Love Song For A Raven

by Elizabeth Lowell

  But she was not. There was one other woman for Raven. The woman he loved and could not have. Angel.

  Do you still love her?

  Of course. And she loves me, too, now.

  Janna knew that she couldn’t change that; she could only envy it. And she could take the bittersweet gift that was Raven, take him and understand that love was like Eden – savage, innocent, knowing only its own existence, its own needs, a law unto itself, a primeval island set in an endless sea of time.

  „Yes,“ Janna whispered, holding on to Raven until she ached, giving him all of herself that he would allow. „Yes, I want to be remembered with joy. Remember me, love. Remember that I loved you in a place out of time.“

  Raven tried to look into the green depths of Janna’s eyes to the soul beneath, but he saw only the darkness of her long eyelashes and the silken swirl of her hair as her mouth caressed his chest. He started to speak but his breath caught. Her tongue was a dark, sweet flame burning over his skin and her cinnamon hair was wildfire caressing his arms.

  He tried to slide his hands into her unbound hair. Before he could touch her, his whole body clenched and a hoarse sound was torn from his throat as her hands found his aroused flesh. She was woman and she was fire burning him all the way to his soul. With an inarticulate cry he found her softness, caressed her until she came to him and he could bury himself in her sweet, consuming fire, burning both of them alive.

  The second time Janna woke up that morning, she was still locked within Raven’s arms. She nuzzled the resilient chest hair that had been tickling her nose. He tightened his arms around her, silently telling her that he was awake. Smiling, she smoothed her cheek against his warm chest. Soundlessly she whispered I love you and accepted the stab of sadness that came with the knowledge that she wasn’t loved in return. She was cherished, though, and enjoyed as a woman in a very elemental way. Every deliriously sensual ache in her body reminded her of that, as did her breast nestled warmly in Raven’s big hand.

  He might not love her, but he had given her a passion that grew greater each time they made love. For that alone, she would have stayed with him. When passion was joined with his gentleness and strength, his laughter and intelligence, Raven was revealed to her as the man she had always dreamed of and never truly believed she would find.

  And she could not help hoping deep within her mind that any man who made love to her as Raven did could not be utterly lost to another woman. Surely Janna had a chance to steal his love with each kiss, each caress, each cry of ecstasy torn from him.

  Janna nuzzled Raven again, realized that his flat nipple was within reach and touched it dreamily with the tip of her tongue. „Mmm. You taste good. Like an oyster. Salty.“

  „Want some lemon juice?“

  „Raven on the half shell,“ Janna said, tasting him thoughtfully, then biting him with great care. „Nope. No lemon juice needed. Raw is best, the same way I found you.“

  Janna’s stomach growled, reminding both of them that she had eaten nothing last night except a few oysters.

  Smiling, Raven ran the ball of his thumb down her spine. „Want to flip to see who makes breakfast?“

  „Heads,“ she said, then made a startled sound as she was picked up, turned over and gently placed face down on the bunk.

  „Tails it is,“ Raven said, smoothing his palm over the supple curve of Janna’s bottom. „Guess you lose. Unless you want to flip me for it, of course,“ he added innocently.

  Janna pushed hair out of her eyes, saw Raven’s wicked smile and realized, „I’ve been had.“

  „Several times,“ he agreed, laughing. He lifted Janna, pulled her slowly across his body and set her on her feet in the galley aisle. „And if you don’t start breakfast soon,“ he added in a raspy voice as he nibbled on her thigh, „it’s lunch we’ll be flipping over.“ His tongue flicked out and he smiled as he heard her breath catch. „Or maybe dinner.“

  Janna’s fingers threaded into Raven’s black hair. When he caressed her again, she called his name in a husky voice that made him groan.

  „What am I going to do with you?“ he whispered. „Each time I have you I want you more.“

  She started to say something but all that came out was a tiny, wild sound as Raven’s caresses became hotter, more intimate. „No more oysters for you,“ she said, biting her lip against a broken sound of pleasure.

  Raven’s breath washed over Janna’s sensitive skin as he shook his head and nuzzled her at the same time. „If that legend were true,“ he murmured against her, „men would have hunted oysters to extinction long ago.“

  „Or women,“ retorted Janna.

  He chuckled and nuzzled her soft flesh. „Are you saying that men would have hunted women to extinction, or women would have hunted oysters?“

  „Precisely,“ Janna said. „I’m glad you understand. So many people are confused by a little straightforward ambiguity. What’s for breakfast?“

  He gave her body a look that made her knees weak.

  „Raven,“ she breathed.

  He closed his eyes. „I think I’ll take a swim in the inlet while you cook tinned ham, potatoes and powdered eggs. After we eat you can take a shower while I clean up the galley. Then we’ll go for a walk in the village while we still can.“

  „Still can?“

  „Walk,“ Raven said succinctly. His eyes opened, and they glittered with sensual heat and laughter. „Didn’t you know, small warrior?“ he asked, his voice deep. „We’re going to kill each other in bed.“ His teeth flashed whitely beneath the black mustache as he pulled the torn remains of Janna’s nightshirt from the sheets. „Know something else?“ he asked, dangling the ripped cloth from his fingertip. „I can hardly wait.“

  Janna bit her lower lip, caught between laughter and anticipation, self-consciousness and the breathtaking memory of the instant when Raven had first taken her. She knew that her expression must have revealed her thoughts, because Raven’s eyes became heavy lidded and intent as he watched. With a small sound she grabbed the shredded T-shirt and hid her flushed face in it. She wasn’t used to this kind of sensual teasing any more than she was used to making love – or being in love.

  „I guess you’re going to insist on wearing another of my Tshirts,“ Raven said gravely.

  She nodded without looking up.

  He smiled gently. „On one condition.“

  Warily, Janna lifted her head. „What’s that?“

  „The only thing you wear in bed is me.“

  Raven didn’t ask whether the strangled sound Janna made was agreement or disagreement. He simply stood up, kissed her thoroughly, grabbed a bar of soap and vanished over the Black Star’s railing into the chilly inlet.

  Somehow Janna had managed not to burn, spill or scatter the ingredients of breakfast when Raven emerged from the inlet after his saltwater bath. Naked, powerful, he looked perfectly at ease in the wild land. He also took Janna’s breath away, made her hands shake and her heart beat violently. She wished that the storm were still churning beyond the inlet, locking them in, locking the world out.

  Unfortunately, by the time breakfast was eaten and Janna had taken a shower, it was obvious that the storm was definitely over. She dressed gloomily, wishing that she weren’t going to be kicked out of Eden quite so quickly. She wondered if Raven had business waiting for him, business that couldn’t wait, or if perhaps he wouldn’t mind staying in Eden for a few days longer, giving her a chance to steal just a little bit more of his love.

  „Janna, I found it!“

  She pulled another one of Raven’s dark, huge Tshirts over her head and called, „What?“

  „A real sketchbook for you to use. I knew Angel had left it around here somewhere, but I couldn’t remember where.“

  Janna zipped up her jeans and opened the door to the cubicle that was both shower stall and head.

  „Sketchbook?“ Janna asked, pushing a curtain of cinnamon hair aside. The thick, silky strands ignored her fingers, falling forward aga
in as soon as she lifted her head. She pushed at the softly curling hair again, trying to ignore the emptiness in the pit of her stomach that came every time Angel’s name was mentioned. „Is Angel an artist?“

  „One of the best,“ Raven said, smiling as he remembered the stunning stained glass panel that Angel had done for his home on Vancouver Island. The panel showed the Black Moon, his longline trawler, skimming over a mysterious sea while salmon gathered below in a seething silver storm. „Galleries are lined up begging for her stained glass.“

  „Oh.“ Janna would have said more, but the thought of competing for Raven with a woman who was not only courageous, beautiful and blond but an artist, as well, turned Janna’s normally quick mind to glue. „Life really isn’t fair, is it?“ she muttered under her breath.

  „What?“

  „Stained glass, huh?“ Janna said, rallying her thoughts with an effort, saying the first thing that came to her tongue. „I saw a really gorgeous piece in a Seattle gallery last year. I wanted that panel so much I used to stand in front of it and just ache.“ The memory made Janna smile slightly at her own longing. „The glass reminded me of the Inside Passage at twilight, that magical time when all legends are true. There was rank upon rank of mountains falling away to the horizon in every shade of blue imaginable, and the sea was luminous, alive as only a god could be alive, breathing light and life into everything it touched. I wish to hell I could have afforded even a corner of that panel.“

  „Angel put a huge price on it because she couldn’t bear to sell it,“ Raven said, smiling slightly. „It was one of her favorites.“

  „That was Angel’s work?“ Janna asked in disbelief.

  Raven nodded. „She understands that the sea is the source of all life. She’s a remarkable woman,“ he added, holding out the sketchbook to Janna. „Like you.“

  Janna didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream at the sheer unfairness of it all. Bad enough to envy Angel Raven’s love, but to admire her artistic skill as well was more than Janna’s uncertain emotions could handle. Wordlessly she took the sketchbook and flipped through it. Only, three of the pages had drawings on them, studies of driftwood on a wide, sandy beach. There was a balance of elements and a subtle elegance of line that tugged at Janna’s senses, telling her of the artist’s understanding of opposites and unity.

  „I shouldn’t use this,“ she said. „Angel might – “

  „She wouldn’t mind,“ Raven interrupted quickly. „These were just preliminary sketches. The finished piece was a gift to my grandfather.“

  Janna closed the sketchbook and looked at Raven with doubt in her silver-green eyes.

  „Use it,“ Raven urged. „That way you won’t have to go all the way to Masset and then all the way back here just to sketch the totems at dawn. Now that I’ve found a real sketchbook, you can stay a few days longer, can’t you?“ He stopped abruptly. „Unless you have to get back to Masset right away for some reason?“

  Janna smoothed her fingers over the sketchbook while happiness made her eyes as luminous as the sea itself. „No,“ she said huskily, „I don’t have to be anywhere at all. I’d like to spend a few more days in Eden. With you, Raven.“

  The pleased yet almost shy smile that Janna gave Raven made him reach for her and wrap her warmly in his arms. He inhaled her clean, womanly scent and closed his eyes, hardly able to believe his luck. A few more days in Eden.

  And if his conscience gave him hell for taking advantage of Janna’s gratitude, for keeping her away from the civilization that would take her from his arms as surely as night took the sun from the sky, then he would just point out to his conscience that it was only a few days, just a few, and Janna had so many thousands of days left in her life. Surely even after her feeling of gratitude wore off, she wouldn’t look back and regret having spent those few extra days with a lonely raven.

  „I found some pencils, too. Funny-looking ones,“ he said huskily. „Angel left them with the sketchbook. Want to see if they’re the kind you need?“

  „Sure,“ Janna said, holding Raven’s big body until her arms ached, then reluctantly letting go.

  The „funny looking“ pencils turned out to be everything Janna would need to do finished drawings. She examined the pencils reverently, only to look up and see Raven watching her with an intensity that made her breath stop.

  „You touch them as though they were magic,“ he said.

  „They are,“ Janna said simply. „With them, I can draw. Without them, I’m a nightingale without a love song.“

  „In other words, a raven. Ravens sing love songs only in their dreams.“

  Janna hesitated, caught by the regret and acceptance that lay beneath Raven’s words. „Then the raven’s love song must be the most beautiful of all,“ she said softly, „for it’s sung in silence.“

  Raven looked at her for a long moment before he smiled sadly. „You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, Janna. Like the forest veiled in mist. Silver and green and radiant with life.“

  Not knowing what to say except Ilove you, the very words that Raven didn’t want to hear, Janna smiled as sadly as he had. In silence he took the pencils from her and packed them carefully in a rucksack along with the sketchbook. She followed him to the makeshift dock. She was getting accustomed to the logs, but she still wasn’t nearly as adept as Raven was. She was relieved to feel the rocky shore beneath her feet.

  „There used to be paths here,“ Raven said.

  He swept his broad hand in an arc across the shoreline. It was overgrown with salt-tolerant plants that crept above the tide line and blended into a mass of cedar, ferns and moss beds deeper than a mattress. After the first few steps Janna understood why the Haidas had depended on canoes rather than their feet for transportation.

  Only where the ocean actually washed over the land could rock be seen. The rest of the inlet was covered in a seamless, multihued green blanket of life. If trees didn’t grow in a given place, it was because the earth was too wet to support them. Boggy areas were common. Even in the forest itself it was rare to see bare bark or wood. Moss hung in beards and veils from every surface. Deadfalls were draped in thick blankets of deceptively solid-looking moss, making green traps that waited to be sprung by unwary feet. Often trees grew so close together that nothing could squeeze between. Animal life abounded, but was nearly invisible – and therefore safe from man. It was almost impossible to hunt even something as large as a bear or a deer for the simple reason that the hunter could see only a few feet beyond the barrel of his rifle.

  On the other hand, if the land were impenetrable, the sea was not. Steep-sided inlets and deep sounds provided natural shelter from storm and wind. Fish abounded. Shellfish were always within reach. The ancient Haidas had wisely taken the sea’s gifts and used only the narrow margin of land just beyond high tide mark. It was there that they built their cedar lodges and carved totem poles as tall as the tallest cedar trees. The totems stood facing the sea, their weathered faces bathed in the salt-laden wind. Raven identified the highly stylized symbols for Janna, pointing out the killer whale and the frog, the salmon and the eagle and the raven with wings spread on top of the pole.

  „What are you going to do while I sketch?“ Janna asked, pencil poised over pad.

  „What I came here to do. Think.“

  She looked at Raven hastily, feeling guilty for having interrupted him. He cupped his broad palm under her chin and tipped her face up to his.

  „I came here because I felt… restless. I don’t feel that way anymore.“ Raven brushed his lips over Janna’s. „If I didn’t want to be here with you, we’d be on our way to Masset right now. Go ahead and sketch all you want. I’ll be nearby if you need me.“ He started to walk away, then turned back. „Don’t go into any of the old lodges. They’re just waiting for an excuse to collapse.“

  „I won’t,“ Janna said. She turned to look at the cedar houses slowly dissolving back into the land from which they had come. „The lodges belong t
o other people. It would be like trespassing.“

  „You mean you don’t want to take them apart looking for beads and bones?“ he asked sardonically.

  Janna looked at Raven’s impassive face. Slowly she shook her head. „There would be no point. I’m not an archaeologist. I can’t recreate a lost past from a handful of fragments. So I’d rather just sit and sketch and let the ghosts whisper to me across the years.“

  Raven looked at Janna for a long moment, a look as consuming as any kiss he had ever given her. Then he touched her mouth with his fingertips, turned away and stepped into the forest.

  He vanished.

  Janna blinked, unable to believe that a man as big as Raven could disappear so quickly. She took several steps forward and saw the moss springing back into place where Raven’s footsteps had compressed it. She took two more steps and stopped suddenly. Evergreens and moss surrounded her. There was no sky, no sea, no true ground, just the forest primeval enfolding her in a scented embrace. Even as she watched, the last evidence of Raven’s passage vanished, leaving her utterly alone.

  For a moment she stood without moving, caught by the elemental stillness of the forest. Then through the trees came the harsh, primitive cry of a raven searching for its mate. In the distance came a sound that could have been an answer. Janna held her breath, listening, but heard no more. The raven called again, farther away now, a shimmering black shadow skimming over endless shades of green.

  After a few moments Janna turned and went toward the shore, knowing that if she attempted the forest alone she would be hopelessly lost within a few steps. There were no trails, no piled stones to point the way, no blazes old or new to mark the passage of man. She walked along the margin of land and sea. For a long time she stood wrapped in silence, looking at the massive icons of another time, another race, another culture, another way of looking at the complex mystery of life. She found totems that were canted, on the edge of toppling over, and totems that had fallen long ago. She found totems in which the cedar itself had somehow survived the carving and had taken root once more, sending out fragrant branches. The sight of faces watching her from between the lacy branches made the hair stir on Janna’s neck, as though gods had come and taken root in the Queen Charlottes’ savage Eden.