The Sheik's Ruby (27 page)

“I will come find you after I speak to the tribal Elder,” Hakim said.

Shelby removed
Al-qamar
’s saddle and bridle. While the mare drank, Shelby rubbed her down with an old brush she found. After making sure
Al-qamar
had something to eat, she climbed out of the corral and rested her forearms on the fence to watch the horses in the dwindling light.

“Shelby Walker.”

Shelby turned to see the Sheik approaching her with another man.

“As-salaamu ‘alaykum
,” she said as she bowed to Sheik Rashid.

“May I please introduce Malik bin Bazyli al Fattah Al Nuaim? He is the Elder of the
Al Nuaim
tribe.”

“
Ahlan wa sahlan,”
she said.

“
Ahlan wa sahlan
, Shelby Walker,” the Elder replied. He spoke her name with a thick accent. He turned and spoke to the Sheik in rapid Arabic.

“Elder Malik would like me to tell you
Al-qamar
is very special to his tribe, and he is pleased to see you treating her so well.”

“
Shukran
,” Shelby thanked him.

The Elder stepped closer to the fence, and
Al-qamar
trotted over, nuzzling him as he spoke.

Sheik Rashid continued, “It is believed by the Bedouin that sharing a tent with an Arabian horse guarantees no evil spirit will enter. They have a deep love for their animals.”

The Elder spoke again and Sheik Rashid translated. “He said
Al-qamar
is happy. She is grateful for the care you give her.”

Shelby couldn’t tell what the Sheik was thinking. Was the Elder serious? Was he some kind of horse whisperer, or was this one of the Sheik’s little tests? She chose her words carefully. “Please tell him I am thankful for the opportunity to spend time with such a remarkable animal, and
Al-qamar
is special to me, too.”

After listening to the Sheik, the Elder gave Shelby an appraising look and a smile. He seemed as if he were about to say more when Hakim arrived.

Hakim bowed to his father and to the Elder. Then Hakim and Elder Malik bent toward each other and briefly touched noses.

Shelby gave a start.
What was that?
She glanced at the Sheik to see his reaction, but he didn’t act as if anything out of the ordinary had happened.

Elder Malik and Hakim spoke together for a few minutes, and Shelby heard her name and
Al-qamar
’s.

“What the heck was that nose bump thing you did?” Shelby murmured to Hakim as they followed the two leaders toward the tents.

“It is a traditional greeting between men. An exchange of breath,” he explained.

“Oh,” said Shelby, still feeling a little awkward. “I thought you guys were going to kiss.”

Hakim chuckled, and his hand found hers in the dark. He leaned close and whispered, “I plan to save my kisses for you.”

Chapter Eighteen

Lanterns came to life throughout the camp, illuminating circles of light in the near pitch-blackness as Shelby and Hakim walked between the tents. Each structure was made of brightly colored woolen fabric, and was constructed around one or two wooden poles supporting the ceiling and the sides. Ropes ran from the corners attaching them to stakes driven into the sand. Most of the tents were closed and dark.

Shelby shivered and rubbed her arms, surprised by how fast the temperature had dropped as soon as the sun went down.

At the end of the common area, a large tent shone, lit with more lanterns that hung from the ceiling and sat on the tables. Delicious smells and the sounds of voices and laughter drifted toward them. As they got closer, Shelby saw thick woolen rugs covered the ground under the tent. Cushions were spread haphazardly on the rugs around short tables. The room looked and smelled welcoming when she entered.

A young girl bowed to Hakim and offered them a drink.

“
Shukran
,” Shelby thanked her. She took a small sip and tasted fruit juice. The beverage was cold and sweet, and delicious.

“
Sharab.
” Hakim gestured to her cup. “Given as a welcome to refresh weary travelers.”

Shelby gazed around as Hakim led her to a seat. Ghaniyah and her friends had already arrived, and she looked fantastic as usual. Apparently, she had found time to freshen up after the sweaty horse-ride. Another face was familiar, and Shelby tried to remember where she knew him from. She finally recognized him as the man who’d delivered
Al-qamar
to the palace. The man whose face drooped on one side.
What was his name—Usman?

For a moment, she attempted to catch his eye, but when she remembered how he had avoided her gaze when they’d met before, she gave up.

At the far end of the tent, Shelby sat next to Hakim at Elder Malik’s table. In the light, the Elder looked much older than the Sheik. He wore a white
dishdasha
and, on his head, a checkered
kehfiya
. His dark and wrinkled skin spoke of someone who spent a lot of time in the sun. Although his eyes seemed sunken and heavily lidded, Shelby saw a lively spark in them.

His gaze darted around as he watched the people in the room.

Hakim introduced the others at the table as the Elder’s wife and older children.

Shelby shifted on the floor, experimenting with different positions, and finally sat cross-legged.

Many of the men lounged, resting on cushions while they ate, but the women all sat straight.

Hakim sat with his legs crossed, leaning on his hand which rested on the ground slightly behind Shelby. As he translated the conversation at the table, he leaned close, his breath flowing warm on her cheek.

Shelby shivered and reminded herself more than once to sit straight, instead of resting against him. Dinner on the floor felt so comfortable and intimate.

Young girls served the meal in steaming bowls. The food was delicious and simple. Dancers entertained them, their beautiful costumes and jangling jewelry shining in the lantern light.

Shelby felt their genuine hospitality as Elder Malik and his wife spoke in halting English. With Hakim translating, they asked her about her family and her home. Elder Malik seemed especially interested when she told him about her father’s cattle ranch. He asked questions about the weather in Colorado, how it affected the animals, and how her father kept track of such a large herd.

“Well, we brand the calves when they are new. That is how a rancher like my dad identifies his animals if they wander. Hakim can tell you about that. He was there this year for branding.”

Hakim translated using hand gestures and speaking in an excited voice.

The Sheik pulled back, his eyes growing wide.

Elder Malik threw back his head as he laughed. “You will make Prince Hakim to be a cowboy, Miss Walker.”

Shelby smiled at the Elder and risked a glance at the Sheik, expecting a scowl of contempt, but his expression was contemplative as he studied her. How she wished she knew what that man was thinking. Shelby avoided looking at Ghaniyah, although she still felt her glares boring into her throughout dinner.

The meal ended and the Elder stood and spoke to the group. “My friends, I am pleased to have your company here, in my home. It is good to strengthen the bonds between our people. Although our lives are very different, when we meet, we discover we are very much alike. We all share a love for this land, and our cooperation will make Khali-dar strong. It is essential to strengthen ties with our old allies, as well as make new friends.” As he said this, his gaze lit on Shelby, and he gave her a fatherly smile.

Hakim squeezed her hand under the table as he translated the Elder’s words. “It seems you have won the approval of the Elder,” he whispered.

Shelby smiled and inclined her head in a small bow to Elder Malik.

Hakim turned. “Shelby, traditionally after dinner, men and women separate for a short time. Jawahir will take you to the women’s tent.” He raised a hand to indicate one of the Elder’s daughters.

The young woman smiled and gave a small bow.

“Separate? Why?”
Not this again.

“It is simply a tradition.” The corner of Hakim’s mouth twitched in a teasing smile, and he bumped her with his arm. “And we have manly topics to discuss.”

The women began to stand, and Shelby chewed on her lip. She was really starting to hate the “women’s role” thing going on here.

Hakim raised his brows and nodded his encouragement.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few.” Shelby followed Jawahir and the other women to a nearby tent.

One of the women held aside the blanket covering the doorway for Shelby to step through.

Shelby found this tent to be a smaller version of the one they had just left. Close to twenty women sat or stood throughout the space, and Shelby noticed they stayed separated in two distinct groups: the Bedouin women and the city women. Shelby sat next to Jawahir.

“Shelby Walker, it’s good to see you where you belong, among the farmers’ daughters.”

Shelby turned to see Ghaniyah standing behind her.

“Don’t worry, they won’t judge you.” Her cold voice pierced the warmth of the tent. “They prefer their own kind—filthy, poor girls who smell like horses. I’m sure they envy your position as a diversion for a rich man.”

The Bedouin women remained silent, keeping their heads lowered. Some of their faces were flushed.

Why weren’t they saying anything? Did they understand Ghaniyah?

The women sat with shoulders hunched, their eyes shifting. They avoided Ghaniyah’s gaze and some fiddled with their hands to appear busy, while others clenched their fists.

Shelby stood and took a deep breath to get herself under control. Yelling would solve nothing. “Ghaniyah, you’re right. I do belong here. I’m proud to sit with these women. How dare you insult them this way? You’re their guest.” She tried to speak calmly, though her voice trembled with rage. “That’s the problem with people like you. You believe having a big house and a rich daddy makes you better than everybody else. The Sheik listens to Elder Malik and considers him an important ally. How would he react if he heard that you thought a member of a respected family in his kingdom wasn’t good enough? Prince Hakim would be disappointed and ashamed to hear how you treated these people. He’d never want a partner who acts so disrespectful.”

“You have the gall to consider yourself ‘his partner’?” Ghaniyah spat out the words. “Do you really think the two of you have a
relationship
?”

“Frankly, Ghaniyah”—Shelby spoke just as softly, hoping her trembling voice didn’t betray her anger—“it’s quite clear Hakim prefers spending time with me to spending time with you. He isn’t looking for a spoiled brat who worries more about her appearance than being his friend. He wants to be with someone who keeps up with him, races horses, talks about important things, and likes the things he likes. Someone who loves him, not just his title.”

The silence stretched through the room like a thick mist, pressing down on them until Shelby thought she could actually feel it. The women from both groups stared open-mouthed as Shelby again sat next to Jawahir. She ignored the tension, and instead, asked the Bedouin women about their camp. Most were able to answer her in halting English. A few of the city women looked interested in the conversation, so Shelby scooted over, making the circle bigger.

Ghaniyah remained standing in the same spot, apparently considering her options. She didn’t storm out to stand outside in the dark by herself. After a few moments, she sat—although, she remained on the other side of the tent, as far away from Shelby as possible.

One of the women asked Shelby about her home, and the conversation turned toward her family and life on the ranch. Shelby had just finished explaining about some of the different rodeo events, and relating one of Chet’s more hilarious adventures in bull-dogging, when they heard men’s voices outside their tent.

The women gathered their things and said their goodbyes.

Jawahir and her mother stood next to Shelby. “Thank you, Shelby Walker.” Jawahir took Shelby’s hand and slipped a bangle bracelet onto Shelby’s arm.

Shelby ran her finger over the bracelet. It was made of small threads of metal woven together into an intricate pattern. Coins and colorful beads and jangled when Shelby moved. “Jawahir, this is beautiful.
Shukran
.”

“You are a good friend to my family,” she said in a heavy accent.

Her mother lifted Shelby’s other hand.

Shelby hugged both of the women and turned to find Hakim, Sheik Rashid, and Elder Malik watching her from the tent entrance.

Both Hakim and Elder Malik smiled.

An expression flashed over the Sheik’s guarded face, and Shelby wondered if she’d imagined it. Was it approval?

Hakim held Shelby’s hand as they followed the Sheik and Elder Malik through the darkened camp to the gates. Her tinkling bracelet was the only sound in the darkness.

When they arrived at the fence surrounding the camp, the group stopped.

“
Shukran
” Shelby placed her hands together and bowed to the Elder. “Thank you for a lovely evening.”

He smiled, the lines around his eyes showing even in the darkness. “You will always be welcome here, Shelby Walker. Please return.”

“I would love to. And I will bring
Al-qamar
to visit.”

The Elder nodded his head and bid farewell to Hakim and his father.

Nasir waited outside the lantern light to lead them to their vehicle and drive them back to the palace.

Shelby didn’t realize how tired she was and remembered nothing after Nasir closed the vehicle door behind her.

“Shelby.” Hakim brushed her hair back from her face.

She sat up, lifting her cheek off his chest. Sometime during the ride, he had pulled her into his lap and held her as she slept.

“Wake up. We are home.”

His words jolted her out of her sleepy stupor, and warmth spread through her chest.
We are home?
She liked the sound of that.

****

“
Sab’a, thamaaniya, tis’a…
um,
…’ashra.”
Shelby finished counting.

“Excellent,” Aaliya said.

The two sat poolside, dangling their feet in the water.