Rapture's Rendezvous (43 page)

“Being in America means many things, Maria,” Alberto grumbled.
“Many. .
. things. .. .”

Having just poured the used washwater down the back steps of her Papa's house, Maria wiped her hands on her apron, making sure to not soil her new dress. Its silken folds rustled about her as she moved to the back window, peering into the distance. She had heard a constant hammering since having kissed her Papa goodbye this morning. It seemed to her that the hammering had begun as soon as the whistle from the coal mine had reverberated through the air. What could it mean? It was surfacing from the coal mine's direction. Neither her Papa nor Alberto had mentioned anything new being added to the community nor to the coal mine area.

Maria shrugged, pulling her apron from around her waist. She only hoped that by laboring so hard she hadn't destroyed the sweet smells of the perfumed bath she had taken earlier in the morning. But she had so wanted to return home to help her Papa and Alberto in any way she still could. Doing their laundry and removing the dust from their meager possessions was all that she could do at this point. She hadn't yet made any progress in securing any of Nathan's money. Only then could she purchase a wooden ice box for her Papa's kitchen. She would even purchase a fancier
stove for him, with embossed nickel trimmings. But now? All she could do was make them as comfortable as possible.

Going to the bedroom, she looked slowly around her. Maybe she could at least purchase a new bedspread and curtains the next time she was in Creal Springs. She could tell Nathan she needed the money for a new .. . hat.. ..

“Even a mirror is needed in this house,” she fussed aloud, reaching upward to touch her hair, wondering if it was in its upswept mass of curls, remembering taking so much extra time with it early this morning, knowing that Michael would see her in whatever way she would happen to arrive at their appointed meeting time.

Her eyes traveled downward. She loved the trimming of this dress with its open-work embroidery of soft colors and the low-cut bodice emphasizing the firm grace of her breasts. The dress, of a rose color, seemed appropriate enough for this fine day of spring. The fullness of its skirt would make it even more accessible for Michael's wandering hands.

Maria's heartbeat increased as she headed toward the door. The time was right. Michael would be waiting. The only thing that was causing uneasiness inside her were the threats of the night before from both Michael and Alberto. Would Nathan have ways of knowing about her and Michael? He did have many . .. representatives… .

As Maria moved from the house and down its front steps, she tensed, listening. The hammering thuds had increased in intensity. She moved out onto the street, peering in the distance, toward the coal mine tipple, and what she saw made her heart skip beats. “Why
would they be building a . . . fence . . . around the coal mine . . . ?” she whispered to herself She looked around and saw others on their porches, watching . . . silently watching. . . .

Something grabbed at Maria's heart. There was something threatening in what she was seeing. A fence . . . meant. . . even a worse kind of prison for the coal miners. It didn't make any sense.

She lifted the skirt of her dress into her arms and began to run, gasping for air, until she reached the iron bridge, then stopped once again, looking behind her. The fence was quickly taking shape, surrounding the whole coal mine. . . .

Turning, she rushed toward the tallest of the Indian grasses, looking anxiously around her, hoping to see Michael's familiar stance, but she saw nothing. All that surrounded her was the slowly weaving grasses and an occasional bee buzzing around her head. All else was as it had always been before. Silent. No movement. Nothing.

Maria's hands went to her throat. “Michael,” she whispered. “Where are you?” She stumbled through the grass, desperately seeking around her, hoping to find him lying, waiting. But still nothing. She went to stand, waiting, hearing only the thuds of the hammers and the sound of the wind as it whipped around her, lifting her skirt upward, and pulling her hair free from its pins.

When another sound surfaced from beside her, she swung around and grew limp as Michael moved into her direction and soon had her in his arms, hugging her tightly to him. “I almost didn't make it,” he said thickly.

“I'm so glad you did,” Maria sighed, lilting her lips to his, searching. She moved her body into his, feeling the same rapturous quivering of excitement flowing through her as his hands reached down and secured a breast.

“Maria, my Maria,” Michael said, moving her to the ground, settling next to her, lifting her dress, caressing her. “Things are quickly changing, my darling,” he said, withdrawing his hands, looking away from her.

Maria followed his gaze. He was also hearing the hammering. He had also seen the fence. “Michael, what's happening?” she asked, reaching up to trace his facial features with a finger. “Why… the… fence… ?”

Michael's blue eyes softened as they turned to search her face. “As we had expected,” he said gruffly. “Nathan knows too much about the plans of our union. He's preparing for the worst.”.

“The worst. . . ?” she gasped.

“The meeting last night?”

“Yes .. . ?”

“I guess his men told him about me . . . and . ..
my
men,” Michael said, plucking a weed, thrusting it between his teeth.

Maria's insides turned cold. “No, Michael,” she whispered. “He just can't know.”

“He's readying himself for the union. I guess he is going to fight us all the way.”

“Hold me, Michael,” Maria said, lifting her arms to' him. “Please hold me. I'm so frightened.”

Michael leaned down over her, covering her body with his, a fortress. “We shouldn't be here, Maria,” he said. “What if I was followed? What if you were followed?”

“Please don't think about that now,” she said, running her hands over his back, loving the feel of the tightness of his muscles, then her fingers lowered and touched the bulge beneath his breeches buttons. “The tall grasses. It would take someone a long time to search us out here. The wind is our protector. It will continue to blow the grasses around and over us. As it weaves and dips, it will be as though nothing is disturbing its flow. Please kiss me. Please hold me.”

“I only have a moment, Maria,” he said thickly, flicking his tongue over her lips. “My men are awaiting my decision on our next move.” His lips lowered and covered the throbbing flesh of her bosom. He reached upward and pulled a breast free and devoured it with his lips, inching his hands downward until he was touching her in the softness between her legs.

“Take me now, Michael,” she whispered, trembling. “No preliminaries this time. I only hunger for you to be inside me. I need you to fill me completely. Please take me. Now.” She lifted her hips, making it easy for him to pull her underthings down. Maria became dizzy with passion. She felt her desire for him increase in momentum as his hands released his manhood from its confines and leaned it down into her. A groan of ecstasy flowed from between her lips as he began to thrust inside her. Her body began to move with him, her hair falling free, settling around her face like a crown. She had become as part of the wind, thrashing against his body as she lifted it to meet him. She no longer cared about the dangers of being discovered. She was as the tall grasses around them, weaving, dancing, as Michael continued to move inside her.

“Michael, oh Michael,” she sighed, tossing her head
sideways, clamping her teeth together, desire for him a never-ending thing. His tongue, his lips, were as pollen to her, so sweet, so very, very sweet. She was the bee, taking from him, enjoying, always enjoying. . . .

“Now, Maria,” Michael whispered, feeling the ache inside him turning to a hungry pain that needed to be quelled. He felt the perspiration rising on his brow and even felt it on her body as she moved so quickly against him. His hunger for her was so great, would he ever be completely fulfilled? As now, the explosion inside himself was almost ready to begin. . . .

He groaned, then let the spasms engulf him in wondrous splashes, smiling to himself when he felt her own similar spasms of delight, pleasure, joining in with his own. Then he pulled from her, panting. He began to laugh hoarsely, reaching to touch the softness between her thighs once again.

“What's so funny, Michael?” Maria whispered, leaning into his fingers, feeling almost wicked, knowing how easily she continued to give of herself to this man. Did he think her shameful? Was he even now laughing at her and her weaknesses for him?

“Us,” he said. “Here we are in broad daylight, with dangers all around us, and we still are able to make love. I find us both a bit amazing, don't you?”

“Yes. Quite,” she purred. Then she tensed when she was aware once again of the hammerings in the distance. She frowned. She rose to a sitting position and looked toward the sounds of the racket.

“And what shall we do when it is impossible for us to meet one another?” Michael said, buttoning his breeches, also rising to a sitting position. He reached and smoothed Maria's hair back from her face. “And
you? Won't everyone know you've just been with a man? Oh, Maria, I've missed you so.”

•Maria's face drained of color. She hadn't thought to worry about that. She looked down at the disarray of her dress and reached up and felt her hair. She had even lost its'pins in the depths, of the grass. “I didn't think. . . .” she murmured. Then she smiled coyly. “But, my love, it was worth it,” she said, smoothing her dress down after pulling her underthings back up. “I would even die to get to be with you. Don't you know that?”

Michael helped her up from the ground, and they stood arm-in-arm looking toward the coal mine tipple and the fence that was being erected. He hugged her to him. “We shall make this thing right,” he grumbled. “I must leave now. I must meet with my men. See-what our strategy will be. That damn Nathan Hawkins. What does he think he's doing surrounding his coal mine with a fence? Doesn't he know a fence won't keep men from talking? Doesn't he know that a fence won't keep his men from being unhappy with the conditions of the coal mine once Alberto discloses the dangers to them?”

“Alberto. He and Papa . . . how will they react once they see the fence?”

“Mad . . . scared. . ..” Michael grumbled. “Damn. Who knows?”

Michael framed Maria's face between his hands. “But, Maria, I must truly leave. I don't know what this day will bring for us all. Please understand my haste in saying goodbye.”

“You don't know when we can meet again?” she whispered, leaning into his hands, loving the warmth
they evoked.

“I think we'd best let some time pass before our next rendezvous. Nathan Hawkins will, well, he isn't a dumb man. In time, he would find out.”

“I see,” she murmured, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. “Then, my love, kiss me once more. Long and lingering.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt the usual giddiness of her head when his lips covered hers; then he was gone from her almost as quickly as he had appeared, waving, leaving her there alone with the wind and the grass, still wiping a few tears from her eyes. She waved over and over again, then lowered her eyes when he disappeared from her sight.

With an emptiness inside her, she moved through the thigh-high grass until she reached the road that led to her home, a home that she could not feel comfortable in. She knew that it had been home to many women before her, and that it would always be Nathan's, even when she was just another passing thought in his mind.

Reaching up, she tried to straighten her hair. But without pins, she could not make it presentable. Then she looked downward. Her dress. It was so wrinkled. How could she explain it away if she was asked? She had to hope that Nathan was still away at his meetings. He hadn't arrived home yet when she had left near sunrise. Maybe she would continue to be as lucky.

Hurrying her pace, she moved up the steps of her house, then on inside, past the noise surfacing from the kitchen, up the stairs until she entered the privacy of her own room. When she closed the door, she turned with a start when she heard a noise from behind her.
Her eyes widened and her pulsebeat raced when she found Nathan moving toward her. His eyes had never appeared so narrow and bottomless. They were all grays, washing over her appearance. His briar-thicket brows bounced as his eyes moved back up to search her face.

“And where have you been, my sweet?” he said in his usual high-pitched voice. His fingers reached up and began to caress his thick moustache as his lips continued to be wetted by his flicking tongue.

“I've been out. Enjoying the beautiful day,” she said, trembling. She laughed nervously, reaching up to push her hair back from her shoulders. “It seems the March winds continue to play havoc with my hair,” she uttered softly.

“And your dress?” he accused. “Is the weather so rough that your dress gets so wrinkled by the harshness of the wind's breath?”

Maria's gaze lowered. She began to fidget with the gathers of her dress, waiting for his further accusations. She knew that her words were frozen deeply inside her. No way could she talk her way out of this discovery.

“Come here, Maria,” Nathan said strongly.

Maria's gaze moved toward him, seeing him unbuttoning his breeches. “What .. . ?” she gasped, swallowing hard.

“I said to come here,” he ordered, his voice seeming to have dropped an octave. He reached inside his breeches and pulled from it his drooping manhood.

“Why … ?” Maria whispered, putting her hands to her throat, feeling suddenly ill. She didn't want to think that she would have just left Michael and his caresses to have to be plunged into such an ugly sexual confrontalion
with Nathan, even if Nathan was her husband, and Michael not. She stood her ground, shaking her head back and forth.