Wild Splendor

Placing her hands at the small of her back, she stood up and watched Runner awhile longer. Then her gaze moved to Sage. She smiled to herself, loving him so much, and wanting so much for him. But her smile faded when she thought about the news that Kit Carson had taken to Harold. He was not the sort of man who took to being scorned so easily.

Forcing him from her mind since she wanted to enjoy having finally arrived where her husband’s stronghold was to be established, Leonida hurried toward the women, who were building a great outdoor fire and taking food supplies from their travel bags to prepare the evening meal. She knew that everyone was already tired from the long journey, but by nightfall they would be not only worn out but starved as well. She wanted to be there to assist in at least this small way.

The day passed quickly as the people built one Hogan after another on a pretty piece of land overlooking the river. Because they were built of forked sticks, bark and mud, some of the Navaho called their homes atchideezahis, or pointed houses. Gay Heart explained to Leonida how the bark was attached to the frame to be strengthened later with mud that would dry as hard as brick.

As with the hogans on the mountain, all of the doors faced east to greet the rising Father Sun.

The afternoon was waning now. The sun was low, the shadowed sides of the cliffs becoming deep pools of violet seeping out across the land. The sunset was bringing the drab clay bluffs to life. A soft breeze was making the cottonwood leaves sing and whisper. The horses were grazing close by, munching on the watercress that fringed the bank of the stream.

Shaded by a cottonwood, Leonida sliced the flatbread that she had made from wheat flour, as cabbage, beans, corn, and squash simmered over the fire in the center of what was quickly looking like a village.

As the people dispersed after the long day’s work to go to the river to be refreshed, Leonida gazed slowly around. The word “paradise” did describe this place well, she thought. A rich, deep green was usually not a part of the desert landscape, but Sage had known the art of finding it, for there it was, a perfect shelter for his people in the deep canyon. In this strip of green could be grown the three sister crops, corn, squash, and beans, and whatever else the people’s hearts desired. They could finally plant their revered peach seeds that they had saved after eating the last of the peaches from the other stronghold. In time even sheep would be acquired and would multiply in the wide green pastures.

Sage knelt down beside her, his stomach rumbling as he got a whiff of the food cooking over the fire. He accepted the piece of bread that Leonida handed to him.

Then he turned and admired the handiwork of his people. “And so the new Navaho village takes shape,” he said proudly. He gazed at Leonida. “Is not it all a fine piece of work done by my people?”

Leonida looked at the many hogans standing like tall, pointed tents, sorting out with her eyes the one that Sage had labored so hard over through the long, hot hours of the day. “They are beautiful,” she said, sighing. She looked up at Sage. “I’m so glad we’re finally here. I hope we have no more problems, Sage. It would be wonderful to awaken each morning without fearing what the day brings us. I want this so much for you. You deserve it. Your people deserve it.”

“I have no choice but to believe that Kit Carson is a man of his word and will see to it that we are left in peace,” Sage said. He turned and smiled as his people began gathering around the outdoor fire, their platters already being filled with the delectable-smelling food.

He turned to Leonida and offered her a hand. She got to her feet, then picked up her large platter of sliced bread to add to the feast. After setting this among the other bowls of steaming food, she searched for Runner. When she found him asleep beneath a tree, the chipmunk scampering around him, sniffing, her heart went out to the child. Runner had worn himself out playing. And his new playmate had returned.

She decided against waking Runner up just yet. The food would be there into the long, shadowed hours of night. There were no signs now that the people were tired. They were enjoying themselves, a celebration seemingly in its first stages.

Now certain that she was eating for two, Leonida sat beside Sage and ate ravenously. All day she had refrained from picking at the food that she had helped prepare. She knew that she must begin now to watch what she ate, and how much. She did not want to become so large that it would be difficult for her to have her baby. Especially out here, where the birthing of her child depended so much on her and how she prepared herself for it.

She gave Sage a glance, smiling. She could hardly wait to tell him her suspicions. Would it not add to the joy that was showing on his face as he kept looking around at his people, who were finally enjoying life, with hopes aplenty for the future?

Sage felt her eyes on him. He turned and studied her expression, seeing something about it that seemed different. She was harboring a pleasant secret, one that he hoped she would share with him. “You look as though you have something to say to Sage, yet not,” he finally said. He placed a hand on her cheek, smiling as she leaned her face into his palm. “Do you wish to tell me what it is, or does your husband have to continue wondering?”

Leonida glanced around her, then moved closer to Sage. “Not now,” she whispered. “Later. I promise I will tell you later.”

“Is it about Runner?” Sage prodded. “Did you see? The chipmunk has returned and is waiting for Runner to awaken, to play with him.”

“Yes, I saw the chipmunk,” Leonida said, smiling up at him. “But, no, what I have to tell you is not about Runner.”

Sage took Leonida’s empty platter and set it down beside his own. He grabbed her hand and urged her to her feet, and laughingly began leading her away from the merriment. It had become more pronounced, with singing and dancing, the thump-thump of a drum setting the beat.

“Where are you taking me?” Leonida asked, her hair billowing out in golden streamers.

“Where we can talk with the moon and the stars,” Sage said, now running in a soft trot, Leonida following his lead. “They will not spread your secret after you tell it to me.”

Leonida ran hand in hand with him until they reached the banks of the river, far from the hogans towering above. It was a private place where all that could be heard were the night sounds of crickets and frogs, and where the lightning bugs’ miniature lanterns glowed mysteriously in the dark. It was a place of fragrant pines and wildflowers and of sweet, warm breezes.

Sage put his hands on Leonida’s waist and turned her around to face him, then held her close, their bodies straining together. “Now tell me,” Sage said huskily, bending to brush a teasing kiss across her lips. “What is your secret? Do you know that it is not good to keep a secre

t from your husband?”

“Perhaps not,” Leonida said, shrugging teasingly herself. She trembled with ecstasy and gasped with pleasure as he gathered her skirt up into his hands, bunching it up past her thighs, holding it there with one hand, while his other cupped the center of her desire and thrust a finger within her.

“Tell your husband,” Sage said, caressing her bud of pleasure, then thrusting his finger within her again, slowly, then faster and faster, dizzying her with the splendor that was building within her.

“How can I be expected to remember what it was that I had to tell you if you continue making me mindless?” Leonida said breathlessly. She lay her cheek on Sage’s powerful chest and twined her arms around his neck as he gently pushed her to the ground. Her skirt hiked up now, and Sage’s breeches lowered, he entered her and began his eager thrusts.

“The secret matters not to me any longer,” he said, his passion rising, his body fluid with fire. “Being with you like this is all there is at this moment. You are the reason I breathe, eat, and even exist. Love me, my wife. Love me.”

“You are my everything,” Leonida whispered back, his pulsing, satin hardness pressing deeper. “And the child will make everything so perfect.”