Authors: Lindsay Mckenna
Tags: #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Romance - Contemporary, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Historical, #Non-Classifiable, #Romance - General, #Romance & Sagas, #Adult, #Suspense
Heartened, Ari smiled and sat up straight. "I can hardly wait to see it! I would read books to my mother about the
Amazon
Basin
, about all the trees, plants and beautiful, undiscovered orchids that grew there."
"Does what you read stack up against the real thing?" he asked, as he gestured to the triple canopy jungle to the right of them.
"Yes.
A thousand times over!"
Ari clapped her hands. "Even from here I can see what I think are red and pink bromeliads peeking out here and there. Sometimes I wonder if it's my overactive imagination, or just tricks of shadows and light as the sun runs and hides behind the clouds."
"You're seeing right,"
Rafe
replied, congratulating her. "You've got a keen eye.
A trained one, as a matter of fact."
He pointed to a twisted and gnarled rubber tree that grew near the edge of the jungle. "See that?
The tree with the grayish looking bark?"
"Yes.
A rubber tree, right?"
He grinned.
"Right.
Look up toward the top of it, on that one branch that looks like an arm bent backward. See those long, spiky leaves shooting out from the joint area?"
Excitedly, Ari followed his direction. "Yes, I see it."
"That's a bromeliad. A red one, if I don't miss my guess. The red bromeliads have very dark green, pointed or
lacinated
leaves that look like a porcupine with her spines up."
Thrilled, Ari looked intently as the houseboat floated past the tree. "Wow…I see it! I wish we could stop and I could go climb the tree…." And then she laughed. "Of course, I'm scared to death of heights! I don't know what I'm going to do about that. I know a lot of orchids grow in the branches of trees."
Rafe
chuckled. "The
Juma
will help you gather the ones you want. Besides, a lot of orchids are found on tree trunks or on rotting logs that have fallen to the earth. I don't think you'll want for orchids."
Ari couldn't sit still, she was so excited. Pushing her fingers through her hair to tame it into some semblance of smoothness, she confided in a low, hushed voice, "
Rafe
, I'm just afraid I'm in a beautiful dream. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up and it will be gone."
It was early evening when
Rafe
moved the houseboat snugly in the calm, muddy channel. Rays of sunlight shot like spokes on a wheel through the gathering cauliflower-shaped clouds on the western horizon.
"These channels are known as
igarapes
,
"
Rafe
told Ari as he placed the plank from the houseboat to the earthen bank of the channel which was about forty-feet wide. "You'll see banana trees everywhere, palms,
embauba
trees, mangos and lots of coffee bushes." He grinned and leaped to the shore, then stepped halfway up the well-worn, partially painted plank. Holding out his hand to Ari, he said, "Welcome to my humble abode—the Amazon jungle,
señorita
.
"
Ari didn't know where to look first. As she turned to
Rafe
, she couldn't help but smile. He seemed so proud and confident. She stared at the hand he held out to her; it was large with long, artistic fingers, the nails blunt cut, and calluses across his palm. This was a man who worked in nature. Indeed, she thought as she leaned forward, placed her foot on the plank and slid her slender fingers into his, he seemed more and more like the Green Man of European myths and legends. The Green Man was nature personified.
Someone who was in complete harmony with all around him.
"Thank you,
Señor
Antonio," she said in fluent Spanish. His fingers were strong and firm, yet it was obvious he monitored the amount of strength he exerted as he held her hand and guided her down the rickety plank. As she stepped foot on the reddish-colored earth, she gazed around at
Rafe's
camp.
There was a hammock strung between two mango trees and a circular pit for a fire nearby, with four smoothly cut logs around it that acted as chairs. A black iron tripod was set up over the pit, with an iron kettle suspended from it. A few feet away
was
a gray canvas tent. The tent was large, and she could see boxes and other items stowed within it.
A well-worn footpath that led directly into the jungle.
Reluctant to release his hand, she came to
Rafe's
side and eased her fingers from him. "I'm here," she whispered in awe, "I'm really
here.
"
"And the beings of the jungle welcome you,"
Rafe
said. He enjoyed her wonder, the hope burning eloquently in her face as she slowly took in every leaf, tree and bush that grew around the small encampment. Her face glowed with excitement. The jungle was alive with noises announcing the coming dusk. Crickets sang. Frogs croaked. In the distance, monkeys were chattering and alternately screaming and whooping at one another as they found their nests in the arms of trees for the coming night.
Heart swelling with joy, Ari turned when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. A small man, wrinkled and thin, his ribs pronounced above the dark green loincloth he wore, appeared silently out of the jungle on the footpath, his feet
bare
. He was old and his weathered features reminded her of an ancient oak tree. His eyes were dark brown, and his hair was thin and gray. When he met and held her gaze, he smiled. Ari couldn't help but smile back. The old man had most of his front teeth missing. She wondered how he was able to eat. In his hands, he held something about the size of a cantaloupe wrapped in red cloth. She noticed he wore several strands of seed necklaces interspersed with parrot feathers around his thin, wrinkled neck.
"Ah,
Aroka
,"
Rafe
told her conspiratorially. "He's the chief of the
Juma
village. Come, you must meet him."
"How did he know we'd arrived?"
Grinning,
Rafe
slid his hands into hers and brought her along with him. The gesture was automatic. The look in Ari's eyes was one of acceptance and happiness, if he wasn't mistaken. Around her,
Rafe
was finding that he was becoming completely instinctive and spontaneous. His head warned him that he shouldn't give in so easily to his desires, but his heart, so lonely and so long without a
woman
who loved this incredible jungle as he did, said it was perfectly all right.
Rafe
deferred to his heart—at least this one time. He couldn't help it—he was enchanted by Ari's happiness at being here.
Ari saw
Aroka
smile even more broadly as they halted in front of him. He spoke in an Indian language she didn't understand. As he spoke, he looked directly at her.
Rafe
reluctantly released Ari's hand and stood between them, acting as interpreter. "Chief
Aroka
is officially welcoming you to his village. He has invited us to have dinner with him and his family tonight. Today he caught and killed a wild pig, which has been roasting all day in your honor. He says that you look like the sun goddess and wonders if your hair glows at night."
Ari laughed gently and reached out and touched the chief's shoulder. "Tell him I'm afraid not. Thank him. Can we go eat with them?"
Rafe
swallowed his complete surprise. He hadn't expected Ari to be so willing to socialize with the natives just yet.
"Of course.
Half the time I'm eating with the chief and his family, anyway. If it wasn't for his wife, I'd starve at times."
Aroka
nodded as
Rafe
accepted the invitation. The old man's pleasure was mirrored in his tobacco brown features, but then he lost his smile and began a solemn speech to Ari.
Rafe
smiled a little and translated. "The chief knows that you have come to draw the many orchids that live in the Great Mother Goddess's breast. He says that he had a dream last night, before you arrived. This gift he brings to you in welcoming you to his humble
village,
was what was shown to him by the goddess. He consulted his medicine woman, a priestess of the Jaguar Clan, and she said to present you with this orchid upon your arrival."
Ari gasped.
"An orchid?"
She had to stop herself from reaching out for it.
Aroka
saw her hesitate, and laughed. Bowing deeply, he handed her the gift, which was wrapped in the frayed, red cotton cloth.
The instant the bundle settled in her hands, Ari quickly pulled away the cloth, which fluttered to the ground. What she held in her hands made her give a cry of joy.
Of surprise.
"Oh,
Rafe
!
Look! Look at this! Isn't it exquisite? Beautiful?"
The woman I'm looking at is exquisite and beautiful.
Rafe
bit back the words. Where had they come from? Instead, he said, "It is." His voice was strained.
Gazing up at him, Ari drowned in the cinnamon warmth of his gaze and the gentle, hesitant smile he gave her. Instantly, she felt heat charge up her neck and flood her face. She was blushing badly, and her heart pounded at his sincere look. Tearing her gaze from his, she found the words choked in her throat, felt terribly shy in his suddenly larger-than-life presence.
Rafe
realized he'd sounded less than enthusiastic. Her crestfallen expression squeezed his pounding heart. "Please," he urged her, "look at the beauty of the chief's gift. This is a
Gustavia
august
orchid. The family is
Leychidacea
.
" The pink color on the petals reminded him of her blush, the white of the color of her skin.
Grateful, Ari stared down at the orchid that filled her hand. The leaves were oval, thick and leathery. There were two blooms on the orchid, one fully open,
the
other partially. The blooms reminded her of roses in shape and color, the pink ranging from
fuschia
to pale pink at the bottom of the petals. Intermixed with the pink was white and, at the base of each petal, a glaze of pale yellow. The center of the orchid held hundreds of tiny white filigree stamens that arced and bowed toward the deep gold center. Her hands grew hot holding the flower and tingles raced up her fingers and into her forearms. She felt as if in a dream; she was
living
a dream.
Her mother's dream.
So much came flowing gently back to Ari as she stood between the two men on that bank while dusk softly approached. The shock that she was really here in the
Amazon
Basin
living the dream she and her mother had planned suddenly overcame Ari. Tears welled in her eyes and quickly streaked down her face, dribbling off her chin as she reverently held the orchid in her hands.
"This—this is too much," she said in a choked voice. "Please…thank Chief
Aroka
. I never expected such a beautiful, incredible gift. I really didn't…."
Rafe
laughed pleasantly and eased his hand across her slumped shoulders. He couldn't help but touch her because her fears overwhelmed his protective heart. "Well, get used to it, my wild woman. Down here in
Amazonia
, the Indians are the most generous people in the world. They will do anything for you. They will feed you, clothe you, even if they are starving and have no clothes to wear themselves. Such is the nature of their generosity and heart."
As
Rafe
slid his hand in a comforting gesture across her shoulders, Ari sniffed and balanced the huge orchid in her left hand. The white roots, a promise of new growth, looked like thick, gleaming worms beneath it. "Thanks,
Rafe
. Sorry I'm crying. It's just all a little overwhelming…."
Taking a linen handkerchief from his back pocket, he placed it in her right hand. "I
understand,
mi
rainha
.
"
Rafe
chided himself for the Portuguese endearment. It meant "my queen." Being around Ari was disconcerting. It was as if he were no longer in control of his well-ordered world.
Ari blotted her eyes and apologized profusely to the chief. She wondered what
Rafe
had said to her in his own tongue. Whatever it was, she saw that his eyes had softened.