"Ride mules?" Rudi asked incredulously. "You must be kidding!"
Jake shrugged. "Beats walking. I'm sure we'll be ready for something other than walking by tomorrow."
"I think it sounds like a good idea." Brit reclined into the curve of Jake's outstretched arm. His body warmed her, thrilled her, and filled her with desire, even though she knew they could have no privacy tonight.
"Sounds like agony to another part of my anatomy," Rudi grumbled.
"Aw, honey. Riding a mule could be fun," Yolanda encouraged.
"It could be a lot of things, but 'fun' isn't one of them," he retorted.
She chuckled devilishly. "It could provide more material for the show. Yolanda rides a mule in the Grand Canyon."
"At my expense!" Rudi grumbled.
"We'll all suffer through it, believe me," Jake warned with a rueful laugh.
Brit sighed wearily. "I can't believe this is our last night in the wild. It's been quite an experience."
"And we owe it all to you, Jake," Rudi said. "You've saved us. And when we get back, buddy, we're going to repay you for your generosity."
"No, no—" Jake began.
"Of course, we will," Yolanda insisted. "You took us into your camp. You saved my life. I owe you everything, Jake. Trouble is, I don't know how to repay someone who saved my life. Maybe I should simply support you the rest of your life."
Jake just shook his head at them. "Thanks, but I have a job. I don't want any payment. Just remember the things you learned about the canyon and the life down here. That's all."
"Well, you've certainly opened up another world for us," Brit said. "Not only is it totally unlike our hustle-bustle cities, but it's been a nice quiet change. We all probably needed a little break from the rat race to make us appreciate the finer aspects of life."
"I wonder why we haven't come across any trace of Frank." Yolanda sat up and looked around. "Isn't this the route he followed?"
"Should have," Jake agreed.
"No traces of fires or anything."
"Well, he knows campfires aren't allowed in this part of the canyon. I figure he took a wrong turn somewhere, or crossed to the other side of the river for some reason."
"I'm worried about him," she said with an uncharacteristic sympathetic tone. "Down here with all the dangers and wild animals."
"We'll find him," Jake assured her. "He's probably out by now, even if he did wander off the beaten path."
"Maybe he found another of those Indian ruins and has decided to abandon society and live down here," Yolanda suggested in a teasing tone.
"It's possible," Jake admitted. "I'm sure there are more places, maybe even civilizations that we haven't discovered."
"It's like a secret cosmos down here," Yolanda said. "And it's a rough one. I can't imagine what we would have done without you to help us after the crash, Jake. I'm sure we couldn't have survived."
"Sure you would," Jake said. "You would've learned how by trial and error."
"Hey," Yolanda said, laughing. "I think that's what we did!"
"I learned about flash floods," Rudi mumbled unenthusiastically.
"But mostly, we learned a lot about ourselves," Brit said quietly. I never imagined that I could go two weeks without all the material stuff I take for granted. Like chewing gum. And shampoo with conditioner."
"And chocolate!" Yolanda chuckled. "When it comes right down to survival, you can't eat diamonds."
"We lost a lot of money in that crash," Rudi grumbled.
"But we lived," Brit said quietly. "Somehow, Italian shoes don't equate."
"When I found the crash and you guys were fighting, I wondered if we'd make it together for long," Jake said. "But all of you have come through okay."
"Tomorrow, civilization," Yolanda said dreamily. "And chocolate! Creamy, rich chocolate!"
"A cold beer," Rudi added, with relish. "And a huge platter of nachos!"
"Black walnut chocolate chip cookies. And my own clothes," Brit said, joining the wish campaign. "A warm bath instead of an icy one. A hair dryer and curling iron."
"Getting my nails fixed," Yolanda added with a laugh. "And makeup!"
"A mirror," Brit said.
"You look fine," Jake assured her in a low voice as he stroked her hair.
"I want to see for myself. What about you, Jake?" she asked. "Don't you miss anything?"
"Sure, all those things, except the curling iron. And getting my nails done. But I came here knowing what to expect, how rugged it is, so I was prepared."
"No one said they'd miss TV," Yolanda pouted.
"I miss it," Rudi said with a wink and hug for his wife. "I miss our livelihood."
"Now that I've met you, I'll watch the tube, just to look for your show," Jake promised. "Actually, I'm going to miss you all, too."
Brit stiffened. She knew, in that earnest, dreadful moment, that they would part soon. Jake was already anticipating it, and so should she.
The next day, as Jake had predicted, they arrived at Phantom Ranch before one o'clock. There was great excitement among the staff of the only lodge on the floor of the Grand Canyon when they realized that these were the long lost survivors of the helicopter crash they'd heard about more than two weeks ago. Everyone was especially thrilled to meet the TV star, Yolanda, and gave her first-class attention.
The four hikers were treated to a hot meal, rooms with real beds, and the use of the pool and a telephone. At Jake's request, arrangements were made for mules to be sent down for tomorrow's final leg of the long journey to the canyon's rim. Several female employees even found fresh clothes to fit Yolanda and Brit.
After a meal and a warm shower, Brit felt better, although she was still sore and tired. Jake stood at the window, legs apart, hands loose by his sides, when she entered the room with his folded jeans and shirt in her arms. "Thanks for these. I'd like to keep the moccasins if you don't mind."
"Are you going back?" he asked roughly.
She hesitated, not sure exactly what he was talking about. She placed the clothes on the chest of drawers and asked for more explanation. "Back?"
"To L.A.?"
"Of course. I have to oversee Bonnie's movie. I'm sure they've already started on it. They don't really care if I'm there, but it's important to me. For Bonnie. I plan to stay with it until they're finished."
"Where are you staying?"
"I'm not sure, exactly. I have an address. One of the producers rented an apartment for me. He was to meet me when I arrived. I suppose I'll call him when I get to town."
"How long will the movie take?"
"I don't know exactly, since I've never done anything like this before. Probably about three or four months." She felt encouraged by his questions. "Are you sure you won't consider being our Native American consultant on Zuni ways?"
"I — " He halted and turned around and looked at her. "Brit, I don't want to lose you."
"Are you just now realizing that this is almost over?" She knew she sounded angry, but dammit, he hadn't made any effort before now to face this.
"I haven't wanted to think of it. I've been too concerned about getting everyone out safely."
"That's the most shortsighted view, and lame excuse, I've ever heard of!" She felt so frustrated with him that she could scream. "So everyone is almost out safely. What about us, now?"
"You don't have to go back, Brit. You can live anywhere. Come live with me."
She looked at him steadily, one part of her wanting to fall into his arms and submit to his generous offer. Another part of her, though, wanted to stand her ground. "I have the movie, Jake. In L.A. Come with me."
"But I have my work."
She propped her hands on her hips. "Let's talk about my work." Pointing her thumb to her chest, she repeated. "Yes, my work, Jake. You know how you feel about the importance of learning and teaching the truth about the Anasazi? Well, I feel that way about my grandmother's story. Here is a faithful record of the way Bonnie lived in rugged country working wit
h the Indians fifty years ago; she even wrote it down for us. It's real, honest-to-God history, and it's a beautiful love story of two very dissimilar people, from vastly separate backgrounds. This is a story that says a lot about people in general, about equality of sexes, about life. I intend to see that Bonnie's story is portrayed on screen accurately."
"Nice speech. You make it sound . . . worthwhile."
"It is worthwhile!"
"I have no interest in doing something like that."
"So? No one asked you to direct it. Just consult."
"You know what they do in Hollywood, Brit. They rewrite history. They distort everything. Look at what they did with westerns all those years. Everyone has input and powers to change things. All for entertainment. And for profit."
"That's why I have some contractual controls over this one. It's why I care what happens in the portrayal. That's why I want you involved with me. You know what's right and true for that era."
"I have my work, Brit. I can't just leave."
"You could arrange something if you wanted to."
"I ... I can't imagine me doing something like that, Brit." He shook his head and a pained expression came over his face. "Movies . . ."
"One movie. My movie, Jake. You know, two weeks ago, I couldn't imagine me living in a camp on the floor of the Grand Canyon. But I did. I couldn't imagine falling in love with a man that I met down there who was so very different from me. But I did."
"Brit . . ." He reached for her, but she stepped back.
"This is ridiculous, Jake. Here we are, the night before parting, trying to figure out what we're going to do with us. I'm begging. And you're resisting. You've got to have it your way or nothing."
"Not true." His dark eyes narrowed. "I want you. But . . ." He paused and gazed out the window. His dark straight hair was long and shaggier than ever, giving him a rugged appearance. He looked more like she imagined Bonnie's lover, Knife Wing, than ever. It was uncanny.
When he turned back to her, his expression was filled with turmoil. "Brit, I don't really know what I feel right now."
"You're afraid of love."
"No! I'm afraid you're my fantasy. A beautiful blond from California, who happens to be making a movie, for Pete's sake! I mean, what better fantasy could a lonely professor create?"
She walked to him and placed both hands on his chest, careful not to press too hard on his injured rib. She felt his heartbeat beneath her fingers and knew her own was pounding just as hard. "I am no fantasy, Jake. I'm me. Real, flesh and blood, a person with feelings, desires, and my own life. I just want it to include you. If you can't handle that — "
She got no further before his hands grasped her shoulders, hauling her lightly against him. His lips covered hers, forcing them open. The kiss was all-encompassing, overwhelming, exciting. Brit forgot her argument. She forgot their disagreement. She only knew she wanted him.
There was no question that Jake wanted her. Within moments, her fresh, clean clothes were discarded on the floor and she helped him shed his. Then they were together on the narrow bed, needing only space for one body, one bare, nude body pressed to the other.
Flattening his shoulders, she made him lie back so he wouldn't be in pain from the rib injury. "I'll be gentle," she murmured teasingly, kissing his chest and the black Zuni bear pendant that always adorned his nude body. She touched his hair, running her fingers through every morsel of it, memorizing the shape of his head and the feel of his coarse dark hair between her fingers and against her whole hands. She rotated his face to her and kissed him roughly, passionately, then embraced him with a special sensitivity to his injury.
Jake responded by gathering her tight against his aroused body. He tried to repay the caress by jamming his fingers through her hair, which was still wet from her shower. His fingers struggled in her knotted hair, combing and untangling it.
"Come to me," he murmured, pulling her down to him so he could kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. "You look like an angel tonight. An angel who spreads her golden wings to dry in the sun. So beautiful." He kissed her palms and the insides of her wrists.
Brit writhed and moved against him, then placed a kiss on his bare, smooth chest. Her tongue circled one nipple, then the other, and he made a soft urging noise. Her lips grazed his navel and her tongue dipped inside.
"Yes,oh, yes," he muttered.
She stretched with him, her legs spreading his, her body lightly on his. Her tongue laved each tightly beaded nipple and the surrounding framework of muscles of his chest. A low moan escaped his lips, but he had no desire to escape. And she had no intention of letting him get away. It was a game of loving that they played as she hovered over his outstretched body, teasing and enticing.
She wanted him everywhere, touching all her private places, pressing himself to all her secret spots. She moaned and wanted to tell him something about love, but he kissed her again, hard and open-mouthed, and she forgot everything except that kiss and what he did to her body.
His tongue enticed her, reaching deeper, teasing her senses to wild distraction. .Then, just when she thought she would burst, his hands molded her body, touching her form as if to memorize her shape, and suddenly she wanted him to ache for her as she ached for him. She wanted him to love her as she loved him.
He slid his hands down her smooth legs, caressing from her thighs to knees to calves, then back up the length of her long legs, up to the most feminine part of her. His moist kisses drove her crazy and she cried out for him . . . softly, she hoped.
He was kissing her again, closing her mouth with his. Strong brown hands firmly grasped hers, clasping and lacing fingers as he pulled her over him, kissing her ear, her neck. His muscular arms paralleled hers, pulsing wrist to pulsing wrist. The motion was symbolic. They would soon be as one, throbbing together. She gasped for air and begged him to "Hurry! Now, Jake...
Brit pressed her soft breasts to his solid chest, and they lay nipple to nipple. She could feel the pounding of his heart match hers, sharing the quiescent energy. His brown body seemed to reach for her pale one, tempting and promising fulfillment. His long sinewy legs aligned with hers, rubbing, bare feet and toes entwined. Her knees opened to surround him, to make their union complete.
She embraced him, taking his hot maleness into her warm shelter. He moved in her, hard and piercing, seeking, ever seeking the ecstasy growing within them both. He slowed, driving upward with deliberate skill. He would not be satisfied to make this sensuous journey alone, and she knew it. He waited, silently insisting that she go along.
She arched, taking all he offered, rising with him, the wanting as strong in her as in him. The rhythm and strength of their love rocked them into oblivion, taking them beyond fantasy, beyond dreams to more. And more.
Then, lights, energy, ultimate happiness. With a sigh, she slumped over his spent body.
The tight coil deep inside her unwound slowly, leisurely. All was quiet except for their labored breathing. Eventually, reality returned. They were no longer on a fantasy flight, soaring above reality. They were back to being two bare bodies, entwined as one, on a small bed in Phantom Ranch, at the floor of the Grand Canyon. That much was real and apparent. What was not visible, but just as real, was that tomorrow they would part.
Even as Jake still lay with her, tears stung Brit's eyes. Tonight would be their last. How could she bear it?
Early next morning, the park service sent four mules and a trail boss to escort them to the canyon's rim. The junket took more than four hours of rough riding, with a promise of sore bottoms tomorrow. But everyone, even Yolanda, agreed it was the best and fastest way out.
For some unexplainable reason, none of them was in good spirits. Jake was unusually quiet. Yolanda and Rudi snapped at each other for the first time in days. Brit felt like a time bomb, ready to explode, on the verge of collapsing in tears.
She had given her all to solving their problem and could think of nothing else left. She, too, was quiet on the jou
rney and couldn't even admire the spectacular views they encountered from the backs of the plodding mules. Nothing could be grander than what they had experienced at the camp and Indian ruins on the canyon floor. Nothing could be more beautiful than the white beach where she and Jake had made love.
None of them expected the confusion and cacophony at the rim when they arrived, least of all, Brit. Tourists, fans, and the generally curious lined the rails. Hundreds of them. They cheered and yelled as the small wretched caravan rode their mules into sight. But the most amazing, and most aggressive, were the aggressive photographers.
Dozens of them flashed cameras and stuck microphones into the riders' faces shouting urgent questions. "What was it like? Were you scared? Did you get hurt? What did you eat?" And then a familiar face stepped, or hobbled, out from the bank of reporters. Their pilot, Frank came forward, and he was on crutches. In spite of the former ill feelings, they all hugged him and listened to his tales of spraining his ankle and practically dragging himself to a clearing and waiting until he was spotted by a touring plane. He was rescued and flown immediately to the rim.
They left the mules and mingled with Yolanda's eager fans and the reporters. Someone led them to a circle of microphones where they were all questioned. "Are you hurt? Do you need to see a doctor? Where have you been? Are you ready to go home?"
Somehow in the melee, Brit and Jake managed to slip away, leaving Yolanda and Rudi surrounded by flashing bulbs and screaming journalists.
"Brit, I will never forget you . . ."
She blinked. They were alone, against a wall, hiding between two buildings. The clamoring world was a thousand miles away. She and Jake were alone in the world, just the two of them. What was he saying? . . . never forget you . . . That wasn't what she wanted to hear. She wanted—"Jake, now is not the time—"
He kissed her roughly, quickly. "We'll stay in touch. This is for luck." He pressed something into her hand and was gone.
She wandered out to the front of El Tovar Hotel and was again surrounded. Police officers, an official of the park service, someone from the company that owned the downed helicopter were all talking at once, then ushering her into a waiting limousine.
A Rare Breed Page 18
