Authors: Antoinette Stockenberg
Wave after wave of goose bumps rolled over Helen as she stood there, caught in time, fearful and awestruck and overjoyed all at once. She realized that what she now possessed—what she
'
d been missing up until then—was a simple explanation to extraordinary events.
If Helen had been a Native American, if she had had access to a tribal shaman, she would not have stumbled around in the dark for so many months. But she was not a Native American; she was a Salem Yankee with little time for her spiritual side.
Linda Byrne has made me her friend. Her loves are my loves. Her pain is my pain. If
I
fail, she will mourn, if
I
triumph, she will rejoice. We will celebrate together, or we will grieve together. Because she is my friend. I
'
ve known it all along; and yet I haven
'
t understood it at all.
E
xcuse me, miss, are you all right?
"
It was the naturalist, who
'
d sent his group on ahead while he paused to take the measure of Helen.
Tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"
Oh, yes—truly, I
'
m fine,
"
she said.
"
Your Indian legend has touched me very deeply, that
'
s all.
"
He sounded a little wistful as he said,
"
I
'
ve had it happen to friends—confronting an owl that way—but not to me. Maybe someday.
"
Smiling through her tears, she shook his hand.
"
Thank you. You
'
ll never know how much this meant to me. Thank you.
"
They went their separate ways. Helen caught up with Nat at the car; he was wondering where he
'
d lost her. He put a finger to his lips, then pointed into the back seat of the Porsche where Katie sat slumped in her car seat, out to the world.
Smiling, Helen slipped her bag through the open window and whispered,
"
She knows more about owls than they do, anyway.
"
She and Nat lingered outside of the car for a moment, listening for sounds of night birds, hearing only the last, aching notes of a robin singing its evening song.
Nat turned to Helen; slipping his hands behind her head, he lowered his lips to hers in the kiss she knew would come. It was tender, erotic, another step closer to bed. There was no longer a question of
if
between them, just when.
His tongue slid over hers and she caught her breath in her throat. Helen knew the taste of him now, savored it; and she knew she wanted more. Never mind all her good intentions. It wouldn
'
t be long; it
couldn
'
t
be long. She wanted him too much.
He ran his hands down the curve of her back and caught them under her buttocks, pulling her hard against him as he kissed her mouth, her jaw, the skin exposed by the curve of her scooped-neck top. With her neck arched, her eyes closed, Helen clung to him, with one thought filling the recesses of her heart:
I can't let him go, I can't.
Her one wild wish—that they could be in bed just then— couldn
'
t be granted; but she returned his kisses as if it could. Hot, wet, wanton—she was making a fool of herself in the parking lot of an Audubon sanctuary.
"
I
'
m sorry
...
this is
...
oh God
...
I
'
m sorry,
"
she said in whimpering gasps between kisses.
It was insane. He whispered,
"
Helena,
Helena
,
"
combining versions of her name, pounding her with it in a drumbeat of desire.
"
Make love with me!
"
"
How, Nat!
"
she murmured, angry with frustration.
Suddenly he broke from his embrace of her and in a low growl said,
"
I
'
ll show you how.
"
He led her a few steps away to the edge of the wood, practically in spitting distance of the Porsche, and then behind a wild, unkempt shrub that had sprung up beneath a weedy maple. In deepening darkness he leaned against the tree, then pulled her back into his arms.
"
This
is how,
"
he said, kissing her hard and deep.
Somewhere in the racking thunder that rolled through her mind, Helen heard the sound of a zipper and then felt the folds of her skirt being lifted, exposing her thighs to the cool air of the night. She stepped out of one side of her underpants as he pulled them away, and all the while her mind was thinking,
There are a thousand reasons not to do this.
And then all thousand fell away like the last dim rays of light as he hoisted her on top of himself and they
yielded
, with hot, passionate sounds, to this one wild thing.
It was wordless, breathless sex, primitive and focused. He came quickly, after a few deep thrusts; but not so quickly as she. Panting and spent, Helen collapsed on his shoulder, then let her legs slide slowly down the outside of his as she tried, feebly, to stand on her own feet again.
Wildfire.
She
'
d burst into flames and then been quelled, all in the space of two or three minutes. And now that it was over, Helen, dazed, almost in shock, could think of only one thing to say.
''
Katie.
''
Never mind where they were, whom she
'
d been with,
how
she
'
d been with him. The only word left in Helen
'
s vocabulary as she slipped her underpants back on was
Katie.
"
I know,
"
he said, still trying to catch his breath.
"
I kept
...
an eye
on the car.
"
Helen was appalled that he
'
d been able to do that. But she would
'
ve been appalled if he hadn
'
t. The first inkling of coming misery flashed before her like a flare shot off at sea, and then she was left in darkness again.
Dismayed, she said,
"
I never even thought of watching the car.
"
"
You were facing the tree, dope,
"
he said in voice that was meant to be breezy but sounded as shaken as her own.
"
How could you?
"
He took her by the shoulders. She was just able to make out the features of his face, but not to read them with any accuracy as he said,
"
I didn
'
t mean for it to happen this way, either.
"
"
But it did.
"
She said it sadly, knowing there could not be a second first time.
He tilted her chin and gave her a breathless, utterly gentle kiss.
"
Are you all right?
"
She began to say something, then stopped. With a small ache of a laugh, she said,
"
Sure. I guess.
"
Enfolding her in his arms, he whispered a second time,
"
I didn
'
t mean for it
this way.
"
They went back to the car, both of them subdued, and Nat began retracing the route to
Salem
. The raw magic of the sanctuary had touched the wild creature in them; Helen left it behind with more fear than regret.
What had she done?
Her plan to build a gradual, solid, lasting relationship had seemed so reasonable. She had wanted him to come to terms with the death of his wife, to test his commitment to parenting, to put his career in some kind of perspective. She thought of his earlier, poignant plea:
I
'
ve taken a hit from you, Helen,
he
'
d said.
Please don
'
t run.
In the silent darkness of the car, she smiled bleakly to herself. The only thing hit-and-run about her was the sex she
'
d just had.
Another thought flashed across her brain, sending chills through her: What if she became pregnant? Unprotected sex in a wildlife sanctuary? It
had
to have been her fertile time. She tried to remember when her last period was, but drew a blank.
She shuddered, knowing that the night would be the first of many spent in second-guessing.
Nat saw her distress. He said softly,
"
It
'
s not the end of the world, Helen.
"
"
I
'
ve never done anything like that before!
"
His voice was low and sad and pained.
"
I didn
'
t think you had.
"
"
I don
'
t know what came over me,
"
she said, hugging herself.
"
It was nothing we could fight,
"
he said, sounding as abashed as she felt.
"
It was
...
God. It was incredible.
"
Isn
'
t that what the man always says?
She made herself sound brisk.
"
We should have tried harder not to give in.
"
"
Now you sound like Hester Prynne.
"
"
Yes, well, look what happened to her.
"
He reached over across the gearshift and took Helen
'
s hand in his.
"
I understand what you
'
re saying, but—
"
"
I know. You
'
re a numbers man. You
're going to
tell me that the odds are against it.
"
"
No, I was going to say, if anything comes of tonight— I
'
ll be there for you,
Lena
. No matter what happens, no matter what you decide, I
'
ll be there. I promise.
"
Ignoring the fact that she had misread him completely, Helen zeroed in on his tone instead. He sounded more than determined; to her he sounded almost grim.
It's because of Linda,
she decided.
He was never there for his wife, and now he wants to make up for it.
But did she want a man to
"
be there
"
who was spurred by guilt?
She did not.
"
You don
'
t have to worry that I
'
ll become pregnant,
"
she said in a proud lie.
"
It
'
s not the right time of month.
"
"
You sound angry.
"
"
I am; at myself. How can I expect my daughter—inexperienced, with hormones surging—to practice some self-control if I can
'
t do it myself?
"
He said nothing for a moment. Then, softly:
"
Have you been with anyone since Hank?
"
The question took her breath away. How could he p
os
sibly assume that she
'
d go four years without a man? It was insulting.
"
No. I haven
'
t.
"
He amazed her by sounding disappointed with her answer.
"
In that case, there goes my theory of destiny, all shot to hell,
"
he said quietly.
Her laugh had a dangerous edge to it.
"
You
'
re saying the real reason I joined you at a tree in the woods is because I haven
'
t
been
with someone in a while? Ha. Guess what? That
'
s my theory about
you.
"