“As it happens, that’s something I’ve thought about every day since we returned from the festival. I think I’m tired of wandering. Although I don’t totally understand why, I think the last months here have been among the most . . . ” He couldn’t quite come up with the word, at least in Frangelese.
“Maybe something like ‘calming’ is what I mean. I like the people at the ranch—the Toodmans, most of the workers and their families, most other people I’ve met. And yes, that includes your family, even Fenon.”
Maghen laughed, tilting her head back and slapping a thigh. “God help you, I think Fenon likes you, too!”
Why did I ever think she wasn’t attractive? wondered Mark. Maybe not in the Hollywood, plastic model style, but a vibrant person shines through. She’s certainly not a delicate flower, but for this world she’s quite a woman.
“I’m coming to think I might spend the rest of my life in this area. Not just working for Toodman. I’d want to eventually have my own ranch. Land is still available. I can think of several tracts that, with hard work, could turn into fine ranches. Of course, that means I’d need to come up with enough coin to get going.”
Maghen tugged on a strand of hair while she rearranged items on the blanket.
Is she nervous? Mark wondered.
“Hoping to have your own ranch is a big thing,” she said. “Would you also plan on a wife and family?”
Mark sighed. “It’s been many years since I thought of such things. My previous marriage wasn’t good, but I must admit at least some of the fault lies with me. Now would be different. I hope I’ve changed.”
“If you’re thinking about a wife, what would you look for?”
“That’s one of those hard-to-define things. A woman like my previous wife would be totally unsuitable. I’d not want to make another mistake. But what about you? You must have had opportunities to marry. I know there’s a lack of enough men for every woman, but someone like you shouldn’t have a problem.”
Color rose in her face, and she clenched her hands in her lap.
“Not so many men are as interested as you seem to think. Yes, there have been offers, but ever since I became a young woman, I’ve been determined not to settle for just any man. It has to be someone I like, respect, and who I believe will do his best for his family. A couple of times I was close to marrying before I realized I was on the verge of settling, instead of being certain. I’ve never regretted my decisions.”
“Never?”
“Never,” she said, firmly. “Even if I never marry or have a family.”
They sat looking at each other for a minute. Two minutes.
He made a decision—not exactly one on impulse, but on later retrospection it was the result of a coalescence of thoughts over the last months up until the present morning.
“How about you and I, Maghen? Would we be good matches for each other with our different disappointments?”
Oh, shit, Mark thought. Where did that come from? He hadn’t been conscious his thinking had trended in that direction. He also had no idea whether such a direct question was inappropriate in this culture. Yet somehow he intuited that Maghen was comfortable with an openness he wouldn’t have entertained on Earth.
“I . . . I think I would be willing to consider it. You’re an appealing man, and everything I see and hear from others says you’re honest and hardworking. I’ve also heard Toodman say he sees you as eventually having your own ranch if you decide not to stay working for him, possibly as foreman one day.”
Mark wondered what to say next when she rose to her feet and undid her belt. She leaned down to grasp the bottom of her dress and pulled it over her head.
Mark, a stranger to ever experiencing a speechless state, was speechless. Her body reminded him of a Michelangelo statue he’d seen when Jocelyn and he had stopped in Florence on their honeymoon: a strong body, muscles more defined than with most women, yet undeniably feminine with nipple-tipped breasts, a taut curved abdomen, hips flaring from the waist, and V-shaped pubic hair.
She didn’t speak. Seconds passed. The unexpectedness befuddled him. What was he supposed to do? Not that he didn’t feel urges he hadn’t felt in a long time.
His mind locked up, and he sat staring at her face. After almost a minute, her original flush faded to pale. She grabbed her dress and hurriedly pulled it back on.
“Please excuse me, Mark. I misunderstood.”
She began gathering the mid-day meal items back into the bag.
“I need to get back to the ranch. Leesta will wonder where I am.”
“Maghen . . . I’m sorry.”
“No. It’s all right. It’s my fault. I thought you desired me.”
Mark groaned. “It was just unexpected. Where I come from, things are different.”
She frowned. “Northern Frangel? How different can it be?”
“Maghen, please sit. I have things to tell you.”
She hesitated, then sat, legs to one side.
Well, he thought, I guess there’s no reason not to repeat the story I gave when I first met Ulwyn.
He preceded to outline the same tale: cast onto a beach without knowledge of how he got there, not knowing where his homeland was or how to return, adjusting to a new life, his attempts to introduce innovations and the tragic consequences. He passed over killing the guild leaders.
She listened, first puzzled, then concentrating, then sympathetic, and finally amazed.
“My God, Mark. The life you’ve had. The things you’ve seen. Yet you’ve come through it. Not many men would have. I can’t even imagine what it was like. I’ve lived within fifty miles of Nurburt my entire life.”
If you only knew the half of it! he thought sadly. He had a moment’s regret about everything he could never tell her: other worlds, electronics, airplanes, aliens, artificial intelligences, the Denver Broncos, Bruce Springsteen.
“But you say things are different where you come from. Is that why you don’t find me desirable?” She leaned back. “Or is it just me? I know I’m not as attractive as many other women. Maybe you don’t have those feelings when you look at me. If that’s it, then I understand.”
“Maghen . . . Maghen, I do find you a very attractive woman.” To his surprise, he realized the words he’d reflexively spoken to avoid hurting her feelings were actually true. Back on Earth, he never would have thought of her that way, but there was a vitality to her that drew him.
Maybe it’s the different culture and everything I’ve been through that’s changed me, he thought.
She shook her head. “Then I don’t understand. Is it how I offered myself to you? Is that not done where you come from?”
When he didn’t answer immediately, trying to formulate words and thoughts, she rushed on.
“Does it matter that I have lain with other men before? I’ve heard the Madrynese have strict customs about such things, as do the Tekleumers. For me, it was men I considered marrying or when I was very young. The last time was almost a year ago.”
“It’s not that you’re . . . uh . . . experienced in such things. I’ve been with women other than my wife, so I can hardly expect you to be . . . uh . . . a virgin. I confess I haven’t inquired what the customs are here in Frangel as much as I could have. Maybe I hesitate because I like you. Very much. It’s somehow different when I care for the person.”
“I’m confused,” said Maghen. “I think I’ve said enough for you to know I would seriously consider marrying you. You say good things about me and at least hint that you find me appealing. Whether we marry or not is in the future, but for now, most men would want to lie with me, as I would with you. Make me understand.”
“If this was only something we wanted to do today, and we were both willing, I wouldn’t hesitate. Plus, I’m usually the one to make the suggestion.”
Maghen’s face tightened, and she rose to her feet. “Well, you’re not wherever you come from now. Should I take my dress back off or not?”
Mark stared at the
annoyed Valkyrie standing with hands on hips. His pulse and breath quickened. Stirrings in his groin were unmistakable.
With a sweep of his arms, he ejected the items still resting on the blanket onto the grass. He began pulling off his boots. The first time, she had taken off her dress with a hint of coyness. This time she swept the garment over her head with impatience and eager anticipation.
Mark rose to his feet. Before he could slip his shirt over his head, Maghen was doing it for him. He fumbled at his pants and let them drop to his feet. One of her hands lay on his chest, while the other reached for his growing erection.
He stamped his feet to discard the pants, as his hands stroked a breast, the nipple instantly erect.
They dropped to their knees on the blanket, four hands exploring two bodies. Less than a minute later, she put a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him with her. She lay back on the blanket and spread her legs.
“Now, Mark! Now!”
He didn’t need urging. She gasped when he pushed into her, wrapping her legs around him and joining his rhythmic movements. He climaxed in a few short minutes and continued until she followed moments later. When he collapsed, her arms and legs held him in place, in and on her. Their breathing unconsciously synchronized, their heads side by side, his breath expelling onto her neck and hers onto his.
His inhalations drew in their body odors. Both had been working for many hours, he on the fences and she cleaning clothes and removing ashes from fireplaces. They smelled of sweat, earth, soap, smoke, and sex. He couldn’t identify the combination as appealing, but it was real in a way he hadn’t experienced before.
They lay coupled for minutes, he didn’t know how many, silent.
“Do your people kiss?” she asked to his ear.
He raised his head to look at her, then chuckled. “Yes, but usually they kiss first and do this later.”
“My people are the same. If we’re from different people, does that mean we won’t kiss at all?”
He answered with a smacking kiss, followed by a light touching of lips.
When the kiss ended, she sighed and relaxed her vise-like grip on his body.” I don’t want to release you, but I’m afraid one of my legs is cramping.”
They untwined, and sweat made him aware the air had chilled. “I guess we should put our clothes back on,” he said regretfully as he sat back up.
“One moment,” she said and stretched to reach her dress lying near the blanket. From a pocket, she pulled a cloth and proceeded to wipe her groin and thighs. Mark was about to shake his head in bemusement when she nonchalantly did the same for him.
“Don’t want to stain our clothes,” she stated at his startled grunt. “It’s better with a warm damp cloth,” she added matter-of-factly as she finished and rose to her knees.
Mark’s “after-incident” examination confirmed his first impression: a healthy, honest face framing frank, captivating light-brown eyes, a firm body probably honed by work and genetics, breasts, belly, a mons covered by hair, and soft-appearing arms and legs that he now knew belied a not inconsequential musculature.
Momentarily not sure what to say next, he opted to say what popped into his head.
“Well, we’ll have to make arrangements for the next time.”
“Oh,” she said, rising to her feet. “You’re assuming there will be a next time?”
“I hope so,” was all he said, his eyes taking in a different view.
She picked up the dress and slipped it on. As the top rested on her shoulders and the bottom fell below her knees, she said, “Me, too.”
She tugged on a blanket corner, hinting he should get off, which he did. He put his clothes back on while she folded the blanket, recovered items he’d swiped off the blanket, and fastened to her horse’s saddle what she’d take back to the ranch.
“There are things to talk about,” she said, “but they can wait for now. I’ll see you back at the ranch.”
She prepared to mount, then stopped and abruptly walked back to Mark. She gave him a quick kiss, returned to her horse, and rode off without looking back.
A whinny to Mark’s left prompted him to look at his horse.
“What do you think, Secretariat? Is this a good idea or not?”
The grazing horse raised its head, snorted, then returned to eating.
“Yeah, I know. Life is much simpler the way it’s been, but it’s time to move on. Oh, thanks for looking the other way, and I’d appreciate your not gossiping about what happened here to the other horses.”
Mark turned back to watch Maghen riding away, curious whether she would ever look back. She was close to a half-mile away, just barely visible outlined against the sky, when she turned and waved. He waved back, smiling.
Well, maybe my luck has just changed.
CHAPTER 23
COMMITMENT
Mark needed another hour to hurriedly finish the fence repairs. Maghen’s visit had taken enough time that he had to push Secretariat on a futile search for the neighbor’s horses. Then he collected the tools and rode back to the ranch, wondering on the way about seeing Maghen at evening meal.
When he returned, he gave Secretariat a short groom, stabled the horse, and used the men’s common washroom to clean up. He was the last man to sit at the long table, with Maghen and another woman bringing food and water or removing used plates.
“Got here just in time, Kaldwel,” said Maghen. “Sit your ass down and eat what’s left before all these scavengers leave nothing but bones.”
Mark didn’t join in the good-natured responses from the other men. He felt an unfamiliar awkwardness at hiding something, even though hiding had been a defining feature of his life since being cast away on Anyar.
Because he was the last to arrive, it gave him an excuse to finish eating after the other men had left.
“You go ahead and stay with the dishes,” Maghen told her coworker. “I’ll be cleaning up in here while Kaldwel finishes.”
After the older woman left the room, Maghen walked close by. Mark reached for her, only to have his hand slapped away by a cloth she was using to wipe the table.
“None of that now. You’ve touched me enough for one day.” She lowered her voice. “I think Leesta knows.”
“Toodman’s wife? How could she—?”
“When I returned, she asked what took so long to bring you a meal. I’m afraid I blushed, and she started laughing. She finally took pity and said she hoped I was happy with what happened. I said I thought I was, though time would tell.”
“When can I see you again?”
“By see me, I assume you mean without clothes.”
“Well, yes, but also time for the talk you mentioned.”
“I share a cottage with the two Ofalyn sisters. They’re planning on visiting their family for a few days starting this Godsday. If we’re careful, you can come to the cottage after everyone is asleep, as long as you leave before dawn.”
She picked up his empty plates and turned toward the kitchen. He rose, reached out, and grabbed her arm, pulling her to him for a kiss while she held plates in both hands. When he released her, her face was flushed. Strands of hair fell across her brow, only partly hiding the sparkle in her eyes.
They hardly spoke again the next three days, though they saw each other at morning and evening meals and several times passed each other on the grounds. At meals, they ignored each other. When passing, they nods or comments to keep up appearances for anyone within hearing.
There was no formal worship site near the ranch. Once a month, a caravan took ranch workers to Nurburt to attend services at the main cathedral. On other Godsdays, there was an abbreviated service at an outdoor shrine at the ranch for those wishing to participate. Mark’s experience in accompanying the Hoveys to the Tregallon cathedral made him assume the services would be similar here. Thus, he was surprised the first time he attended a service at the ranch that although some of the declarations and responses were the same, others were different.
“We have both Sholster and Morwyn believers in this part of Frangel,” said Tylmar when Mark asked about the service, “although I think there are more Sholsterers. I know at least three of Toodman’s permanent workers follow Morwynism. We’re near the border between the historic Sholster and Morwyn areas.”
“Ah, I remember now,” said Mark. “It was similar where I’m from in the north.”
“Well, I’ve done my duty to God,” said Tylmar. “What do you have planned for the rest of the day?”
“After mid-day meal, I’ll give Secretariat a good grooming and sneak him a couple of fruits. Then I’ll catch up on some sleep if the other men keep quiet enough.”
“Murklyn is having men over to his house for card games later if you’re interested.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” said Mark.
After giving Secretariat his grooming and treats, Mark slept four hours and played cards until dark. Later that evening, he sat on a log section in a grove of trees two hundred yards from the ranch buildings, waiting for the last lantern to be extinguished. It being a working ranch, most residents were asleep within an hour of last light. The exception was in Toodman’s house, where a lantern in the bedroom of their oldest son stayed lit for an hour after the other lights.
Two dogs resembling Rhodesian ridgebacks roamed at night to keep away bold pests, but both animals were familiar with Mark and ignored him. When he got to Maghen’s cottage, he knocked gently. She wore a nightshirt and a shawl when she let him in.
“This feels almost wicked,” whispered Maghen. She closed the door and raised her voice to be merely soft. “This is the first time I’ve had a man in here.”
He couldn’t help but wonder where she’d rendezvoused with the other men she’d lain with, but it wasn’t important enough to ask.
“No one saw you coming?”
“I don’t think so. I waited a few minutes after the last light went out.”
He reached out to embrace her.
“Talk first,” she said.
Passages Page 29
