Read Thunder In Her Body Online
Authors: C. B. Stanton
“I see where you’re going with this,” Clare said.
“You can’t say nothin’ to her about this, Clare. If she’s gonna like him, it has to be for himself, not what he has. I love that ol’ boy. I don’t wanna see him hurt again. I can tell you, he’s not gonna tell her, unless they up and decide to make their relationship permanent. Do you understand what I’m saying?” which was more an admonition than a question.
“I do,” Clare replied, “but I can tell you about my friend. It won’t matter a hoot if he’s just a foreman on your ranch, if he works as a road construction worker, or if he’s, as you say, rich as Croesus. If she likes him, and that’s pretty much a given, and if she falls in love with him, it will be the man that she will love. Not what the man has,” Clare said, almost sternly.
“I’m gonna take your word for it, ‘cuz you’ve known her a long time, but I’m askin’ you again to please not share any of this conversation with her, not by word or action. Money can sometimes be more of a burden than people think. He’s been chased down by some pretty crafty bitches, just ‘cuz he’s known to have something. Can you give me your promise that you’ll keep this between you and me?” Aaron asked, looking over at her.
Clare hesitated to give an answer, until she had weighed her decision.
“I promise,” she said, hoping that her friend would not suffer for this promise.
Over dinner that night, Aaron told Clare he’d like to take her on up to Gila National Monument on Tuesday, since they were out that way. And it would give him another day alone with her. He was smitten and he liked the feeling of maybe being in love again. She could think of nothing better on her next to last full day before she had to fly back to Austin. She hoped that over time, something good would come of their new- found relationship.
C
HAPTER 8
¤
The Clinic
O
n Monday morning, while Clare and Aaron traversed the desert and mountains of southwestern New Mexico, on their way to Silver City, Blaze and Lynette slept in. Their love-making had exacted a toll on their energy and their bodies. Blaze worked with his hands and his body almost daily so he didn’t have any lingering after-effects to speak of. But, Lynette, who hadn’t had this much action in years, found that her hip muscles were sore, as were her thighs and a few muscles up her back. She could moan and complain about her well-deserved aches and pains, or she could depend on more rapturous encounters to loosen up the stiff muscles, and somehow, she knew she could count on Blaze’s tremendous abilities, to keep those muscles supple.
Finally up, showered and fed, they knew they had business to take care of so they rustled themselves together and left the ranch around 10 a.m. First, she needed to get back to the condo, put on some fresh clothes and do something with her hair. For the past twelve hours, she’d been pulling it back into a pony tail, much like Blaze’s. He liked her hair to hang loosely; she thought she looked like a witch when it wasn’t curled. But compromise was all a part of any healthy relationship, and they had established a relationship. So she decided she would curl her long auburn locks, in a way that framed her oval face and fell softly on her shoulders. Blaze dropped her off at the condo, but chose not to come in. He wanted to get over to the Tribal Clinic as soon as possible. He felt sure that he was safe and healthy, but he was a wise man; and he was sure that he was falling in love with Lynette – no, there was no doubt, he
had
fallen – so he wanted to get all the tests possible to ensure that soon he could meet her, flesh to flesh.
Blaze was painfully deep in thought as he waited his number to be called for his tests. This woman, this blessed woman who had come so suddenly into his life – what was he going to do about her? He knew already that he loved her, and no, it was not just the sex. It was her, all of her. He was so drawn to her, so compelled by her, he marveled in just the sound of her somewhere in the house. He didn’t even have to see her. Just knowing she was around made him happy, content, joyful. She was lively, yet settling. She was passionate, yet gentle. She was extremely intelligent, but had the curiosity of a child. She was everything he could want in a woman; and he wanted her for life. In so many words, in clear simple words, he had told her so. Did she believe him?
At 49 years old, what’s the chances of having this miracle come into my life, he wondered?
What are the chances of having a woman who tantalized his soul, who completed him as a man; who came to him so willingly and filled his head, his heart, his everything, he reasoned. His whole world now made sense with her in it. He had so much to give her. She had everything he needed for himself. The thought of not having her was almost unbearable. He shook his head visibly, as if having a conversation with someone in the room. Two others in the clinic waiting room looked over at him curiously, but said nothing and went back to flipping through their magazines. God, how he loved her already. Would they have to endure weeks, even months of long distance dating? That was untenable. It made no sense. He loved her; she sure as hell showed that she cared for him. What should they have to wait for to move to the next step in this miraculous relationship? If she didn’t love him, she’d learn to. Of that he was sure. He was a good man, a loving man. They had worlds to explore together. The clock was ticking in their lives. Every minute he was away from her was potentially wasted time. Agony swept over his whole being. He was awash with fear that what was the best chance for a fulfilled life, could slip away from him. He didn’t want to wait some fake,
acceptable period of time.
He wanted her now. He knew already that he wanted her for the rest of his natural life and he would be good to her; he would be a caring and loving husband. He’d made two other major decisions in his life before this. One, to join the navy; the second, to live, when he was critically wounded and he and his small, secret group were stranded at sea. And the third, was today, when he knew that he loved and wanted Lynette for his wife.
When he finished all the tests and the paperwork, he knew then what he wanted to do; what he had to do. But would she agree? He made several stops in town, gathering important things, before heading for the condo. This was the first time he’d been inside Lynette’s house, and he complimented her first on her hair, running his fingers through her long, soft tresses, then on her choice, and the manner in which the place was decorated.
“I can’t take credit for a lot of this,” she admitted, “it came with the price. I really felt lucky to get this,” she said proudly. Though she took pride in her “little get away vacation home,” Blaze realized that
things
didn’t seem to matter as much to her. She was more about living life, experiencing nature, being grateful for every day and all the gifts the Creator had bestowed on her. She was about sharing what she had; she was about trying to love purely and unconditionally, and he came to understand that she felt she’d failed miserably at the latter. Could he give her that one gift? Could he be a channel for her to experience love, purely and unconditionally? He had known this wonderful and complex woman for less than 48 hours. She had garnered his attention. She had unquestionably captured his body. She had woven her way into the corridors of his psyche. Could he love her with the abandon she needed? Could she love him with the intensity he wanted? The answer was yes. He was damned sure of it.
Blaze watched her as she conversed with Clare on the phone. He listened to her conversation. She wanted to make sure that Clare was all right. It was her nature to make sure that things were going well for her friend and Aaron. After all, Clare was her best friend. As she pulled herself away from the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room, he walked over to her and wrapped himself around her. He did not try to kiss her – he just held her. He stroked her soft, brown mane. She relaxed in his arms, not knowing the purpose of this embrace but savoring every nuance of it. She did not try to pull away. He gave no indication of letting go. He just held her, in that instant, in that time that they were creating, he just held her.
“When we come back here from the health department, would you throw together a few of your personal things? I want to take you somewhere,” he said.
“Sure,” she responded, without even asking where they were going. Wherever it was, it would be with him. That made it special. All she wanted to be, was with him.
The paperwork was very personal, but it wasn’t the first time she’d completed a form like this. For Roger, she’d done the same many years ago, but she did it at her personal physician’s office. This was an unfamiliar place. It was clean, but Spartan. The staff was friendly, well trained, and the tests took less than fifteen minutes. She asked to be blood tested for every possible kind of STD, and because a woman’s anatomy is different from a man’s, she had to climb up into those dreadfully uncomfortable stirrups and present her bottom-half to a stranger. She was glad, now, that she and Blaze had used protection, because the tests would not be skewed by his bodily fluids. She did, however, quietly long for the time when nothing would come between them. That’s what this was all about. Whatever indignity she felt lying on that table was well worth it.
By the time all the clinic trips were finished, Blaze had given some verbal instructions to Hawk and Maurice, and Lynette had thrown together a little overnight bag, much of the day was gone. She tried to entice Blaze to “christen” her own bed, but he gently worked his way around the proposition. In her mind she thought,
Ah, ha – the boys a bit worn out
, and she chuckled privately. That was Ok, she mused. They had time. It had nothing to do with fatigue or satiation. His libido – his sexual drives, were as strong as hers. Blaze simply wanted to wait until they were in his other place, before he shared himself again.
C
HAPTER 9
¤
The Cabin on the Reservation
T
he road through the Apache Tribal Lands started out as a four-lane major highway, then Blaze turned off onto a paved two lane secondary artery, bounded on all sides by tall, pine, spruce and fir trees. He guided the silver truck onto a narrow gravel road where all views of the mountains and valleys were obscured by the denseness of the forest. The gravel road then came to a fork about two miles in. Blaze took a right at the fork and drove for about a quarter mile on a dirt road until they came to a splendid, tiny meadow. Almost in the middle of this minute clearing sat a very small, weather-worn cabin. It looked more like a shack, in danger of falling in the next wind storm. He drove across a patch of green, as the tire tracks of the past were obliterated by the spring growth of new plants and grasses. It looked as though no one had been there all winter, or for that matter, for many years. Blaze pulled slowly up in front of the building, and with a smile on his face, patted Lynette’s knee and said, “We’re here!”
“Oooo-K,” she replied, obviously curious.
A lesser woman would have questioned this destination, but Lynette was more interested in the remoteness and the apparent antiquity of this tragic-looking abode. Wherever she was with Blaze, she felt safe. So she could indulge her curiosity.
“Watch your step,” Blaze cautioned, “and be careful where you walk. Springtime brings out the slithery things up here,” he said, looking at her for any sign of fear.
They stood outside the ramshackled old building with its pitted tin roof. It had no porch, just a small tin overhang above the grayed and weathered door. There was a hint of a moldy smell and Lynette wondered what creatures inhabited the dark area under the cabin, which sat barely off the ground on a foundation that looked as if it had been many banquets for termites. There were no electric wires near the house, so it was obvious there were no lights inside, and dusk dark would be coming soon. All around the cabin, tiny flowers bloomed. Lynette walked a few steps back toward the truck so she could get a wider view of the cabin in its full setting. She could not count the shades of green towering above and growing below and all around the cabin. The almost miniscule purple flowers dotted the entire landscape and were challenged by bright pink and yellow blooms. It was a painting somehow out of the Hurd collection. Surely an artist had come here. Lynette was sure she had seen this place before.
“This is where my biological mother was born,” Blaze said softly. “She lived here all of her life, in this one tiny house. She died of tuberculosis when I was young. They say she kept me as long as she could, but that’s why I grew up with a stepmother. My stepmother, was my mother’s sister, so she was my biological aunt,” he said sadly.
“I’m told that I wasn’t born in this house, but a ways down the valley, out in a field, under a tree. I lived here as a baby.” He stood quietly, reverently, for awhile.