Between Two Worlds (20 page)

“Or you,” Gabriel teased. “Indians are very honest people. They
don’t know what it is to lie. And they consider their intimate moments to be
very precious. Almost sacred, in fact. They make love often, I’m told. They
believe it’s good for their health and well being.” His passion-clouded gaze
held her in an iron grip.  When he chuckled, a low, masculine sound, she felt her
pulse accelerate.  She might leap out of her skin if they didn’t change the subject.

“Let’s take a walk through the village,” she suggested, with a
catch in her throat. “I’d like to meet some of the Pima families.”

Fifteen

The entire village, including the young men who’d been hunting all
day, gathered at the ramada that evening to celebrate the birth of the newborn.
Dances With Wind and her newborn son were carried to the community center with
great pomp and circumstance, in a hammock made of deer hide and placed near a
roaring fire. He Who Fights Bravely was seated with his wife and son on one
side of him and their three older children on the other. Gabriel and Delaney were
seated across from him, as his honored guests. They all sat cross-legged on
soft rabbit hide blankets.

The two of them had strolled through the village that afternoon,
watching the women cook and scurry around in preparation for the feast.
Delaney’s curious nature had been piqued as she observed them skinning and
cooking deer, pounding wheat with tools made of wood and smooth rocks, and
brewing the liquid the hunters had squeezed from cactus.

She licked her fingers, having devoured that tender deer meat, as
well as a bowl of fried bread and fruits. She greedily drank cup after cup of
the juice the women had made out of the saguaro. Although she knew she was
becoming intoxicated, she was unable to stop. The drink was so sweet and delicious,
and every time she looked up, someone offered her another mug of the stuff.

“The Pima are such generous people. And so friendly,” she slurred.
“They sure know how to throw a party.”

Gabriel accepted a third hunk of rabbit meat from the mother of
Dances With Wind and agreed. “He Who Fights Bravely once told me that Kit
Carson traveled through here back in 1846 and the community offered him
hospitality. They had no idea who he was at the time. They simply saw him as a
tired man who needed food and shelter. That’s the kind of people they
are—welcoming to all.”

Delaney held a chunk of bread in her balled-up fist. She dunked it
into the cup of saguaro juice and cried, “No kidding! I read about Kit Carson
in school. He was a trapper, a guide, a military man, and Indian agent.”

“That’s right. The father of He Who Fights Bravely was a young man
when Carson came through here. He Who Fights Bravely once told me the story
that was told to him. When Kit tried to pay for the food the Pima provided, his
father told Kit, bread is to eat, not to sell. Take what you want.”

Delaney shook her head in amazement. “If the leaders of the world were
half as wise as that man, there would be no more war.” She stuffed the last
sections of fruit into her mouth and rubbed her stomach. “I’m full. I ate like
a pig.”

“Me, too.” Gabriel wiped his hands on a cloth and leaned into her
shoulder. “Are you enjoying yourself? Are you glad we stayed?” He was tipsy,
too.

“Yeah. I still can’t believe I’m sitting in a real Indian village
and sharing food with these peaceful people. Native Americans have gotten such
a bad rap through history. They’re all made out to be ungodly heathens and
scalpers in the movies.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned movies. What are these
movies?” Gabriel asked.

“They’re picture shows. Like a play, only the story is shown on a
big screen.”

“Oh, I see. It’s a form of entertainment. Like actors on a stage,
only they’re…”

Delaney finished his sentence. “Filmed with cameras. Then people
go to a theatre and they eat popcorn and drink Cokes and watch the movie, or
not watch it. A lot of young couples go to the movies on dates and they make
out there, because it’s dark and they think no one can see them.” She teased
him with her fluttering eyelashes.

“Mmmm. That’s interesting.” Gabriel had a mischievous twinkle in
his eye. “I think I’d like to go to the movies with you. Have you ever
made
out
at the movies?”

She winked and giggled. “A lady never kisses and tells.”

When the meal was over, the children cleared the plates and
leftover food in a hasty and efficient manner. Across the fire on the other
side of the ramada, eight men took their places behind drums with large bases
that were covered in deer rawhide. The jubilant roar of the celebratory crowd
settled into a hush as the men simultaneously began drumming.

Gabriel flashed Delaney a quick smile and then cupped his hand to
her ear and whispered, “The dancing is going to begin now.”

She chugged down another cup of liquor and fastened her bleary
eyes to the bronzed men pounding the drums. All her senses came alive as the
strong, steady beats of the drumming filled the air. The musky smells of the
land and the people around her filled her nostrils. The rhythmic pulsing of the
drums sent the blood pumping through her veins as the ground vibrated with the
heartbeats of Mother Earth in motion. When the drummers began chanting, their voices
started out deep and low, with the pitch rising steadily, climbing to higher
and higher octaves until the singing voices all blended in perfect harmony.

It was as if Delaney were hearing their voices in surround-sound.
The drink, no doubt, had heightened her senses. The voices bounced off the wall
of the ramada and zinged back to pierce her head like arrows. Her heart hammered
inside her chest as if it were a sledgehammer coming down on an iron stake.
Blood throbbed in her ears. The combination of the repetitive drumming and the haunting
melody of the chanting put her into a trancelike state that she was unable to
resist or control.

The dancers finally materialized from the dark, shadowy corners
and started gyrating around the bonfire. Delaney’s eyes grew big. The dozen or
so men and women wore a kaleidoscope of bright costumes, adorned with feathers,
beads and twigs. Their arms moved in measured circles, faster and faster, until
they resembled whirlwinds. Their sandaled feet slapped upon the ground,
stomping to the hypnotic rhythm of the beating drums. The dancers’ shoulders
swayed and their knees pumped. All of them were sure footed, fluid, and elegant
as they expressed the motion of life with their beautiful brown bodies.

Gabriel had told Delaney earlier that day that the entire
celebration was a form of praise and worship, but the dancing itself, she
gathered, was a way in which to experience the interconnectedness between
family and friends. Wasn’t that same sense of interconnectedness exactly what
modern people were striving for when they went to clubs to dance and socialize?

Her eyes, though sleepy and drooping, were riveted on the dancers,
the drummers, and the blazing, mystical fire. She felt transported to another
realm. Her dad’s face appeared in her mind, and she wondered what he’d think if
he knew where she was and what she was doing. Had he tried to contact her at
all? She wondered. Did he get worried when he couldn’t reach her at home
or
on
her cell? Would he believe her when she finally returned and told him about Sam
McKinney and being teleported back to 1888? Or would he give her
that look
—the
one she’d come to know meant,
Don’t be ridiculous, Delaney
.

How disappointed would he be if she confessed this experience had
changed her, and she no longer wanted to work in advertising? The thought of
admitting she wasn’t cut out to follow in his footsteps terrified her. She had
no idea how he’d react. More than anything else in the world, she’d striven her
whole life to gain his respect. She wanted him to be proud of her. The only way
she’d ever known to do that was to become an ad man like him. What would happen
to their relationship if that changed? These and other burning questions
bounced around in her mind as she peered up into the dark sky.

A shooting star streaked across the inky palette. In a delayed reaction,
she elbowed Gabriel. The funny juice had caused the reactions of them both to
be slow, and he missed the beautiful sight. The tail of the star disappeared
just as he looked up. Gabriel must have thought she was pointing to the half-moon,
because he said it looked just like the drawing in a nursery book he remembered
as a child. He’d had a good amount of the saguaro punch himself, she’d noticed.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if cows could really jump over the moon?” he
joked, with a goofy, crooked grin. She elbowed him in the ribs and they both
laughed.

After what seemed like hours, the drumming finally ceased and the
dancing and chanting stopped. Delaney’s ears rang. She felt as if her eyes were
bigger than her head. Her muscles twitched and jumped with sensory overload.

He Who Fights Bravely uncrossed his legs and stood up to address
the village. He’d been watching the sky when the star flew overhead. All faces turned
to him as he loudly announced, “My new son’s name shall be Flying Star.”

The murmurs of concurrence filtered amongst the villagers. Dances
With Wind nodded her approval, and the feast, it seemed, was over. The Indians
stood and began dispersing.

When Delaney glanced at her watch, she realized the celebration
had carried on for two hours. She had a headache and felt dizzy. She placed
three fingers to her aching forehead.

Gabriel helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“You’re pale.”

She wanted to speak, but no matter how hard she tried to force the
words out, they wouldn’t come. Her gaze swept across the ramada. The Pima were
leaving, disappearing into the dark like phantoms in the night. Dances With
Wind and her newly christened Flying Star were lifted and taken back to their
hogan in the hide by the same broad shouldered men who had carried them out.

Running Deer, She Who Dreams, and One Who Cries followed their mother
and baby brother. He Who Fights Bravely waited behind and stood in front of
Delaney in all his bare-chested beauty.

She stared into his deep brown eyes. She was mesmerized, drunk,
high, confused, and aroused all at the same time. She grabbed Gabriel’s hand
and squeezed. He squeezed back. She wondered what was to come next. It had been
a very weird evening. A shiver ran down her spine when He Who Fights Bravely
asked, “You like celebration?”

“Yes. Very much.” It was all she could squeak out.

He moved his head up and down—once—firmly. “Follow me.” He led the
couple to a small dwelling far down the road, past his own home. It was located
right on the banks of the river. The bright moon’s rays lit up the splashing water,
which shone like diamonds. Delaney had a strong desire to strip naked and go
skinny-dipping.

“You stay here tonight,” the Indian said, making an arc with the
sweep of his hand. “Make love.” He gazed between them. Seemed there’d be no
conversation about it. He pointed to the hut and then spun around and sprang
like a gazelle onto the road and vanished into the dark.

Stunned, the two of them stood frozen, speechless for a moment.
Delaney awakened suddenly from her high with a jolt, as if ice water had been
thrown on her. But it was Gabriel who found his voice first. He quietly said,
“Well, our mutual friend certainly seems determined to get us together
tonight.”

The corners of her mouth tilted seductively. The potent drink had
made her reckless and over-confident. Silently, she grasped his hand and pulled
him inside. The entrance to the hogan was much smaller than the one He Who
Fights Bravely and his family lived in. They bent down and crawled on their
hands and knees through the small arched doorway. When her eyes adjusted to the
dark surroundings, Delaney glimpsed the makings of a soft animal hide and fur
bed on the ground. Crawling toward the bed, she drew Gabriel with her.

The moment they fell upon the hides, she felt his strong arms
close around her. His mouth urgently came down on hers, and she grew weak in
his embrace. His mouth branded her lips, burning her with fiery kisses.
Greedily, she sucked his breath into her. His eager hands roamed down her back
and over her waist to the curves of her hips. Her mind floated like a feather
on a breeze, as his fingers wrenched her blouse out of the waistband of her
long prairie skirt. When his hand snaked up under the blouse, her entire body
convulsed at his touch. She gasped.

He stopped kissing her and gazed into her eyes. “Are you all
right?”

She murmured, “Yes.” But was she?  Hadn’t she told herself she
wouldn’t let this happen?

“Do you want me to continue?” Gabriel’s breath was warm against
her cheek, his drawl low. His hand fondled her gently.

“Yes,” she whispered, unsure but unwilling to stop him.

He seared her mouth with more kisses before unbuttoning her blouse
and splaying it open. Delaney’s chest heaved with anticipation. Why was she
allowing this? If they made love tonight, what would happen tomorrow?  How
would she be able to say goodbye to Gabriel when the day came that the bridge
appeared and it was time for her to return to her world?

His fingers found the strings of her corset and quickly untied them
with the expertise of an adept and masterful lover. Her heart crawled into her
throat. When he tugged on the corset, she knew it was up to her to make a
decision for them both. If he undressed her, it would be impossible for them to
turn back.