Water Rites (17 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

W
aiting outside the base’s ugly wire gate, Nita wondered if she was making a mistake. She had meant to move on, go down the riverbed to Bonneville; maybe David had gone there. But she was tired. Rachel whimpered and Nita hugged her. Carter was talking to a uniformed soldier just inside the gate. The man held an ugly rifle and he didn’t like her. The gate itself scared her. There were two gates, actually, all steel mesh and razor wire, one on either side of the small, square building where the soldier was now tapping keys on a terminal. The soldier was like the gate, all razor-sharp barbs of hostility.

Nita looked away from the glinting, thorny gate. Razor wire had fenced the ag-plex where she had grown up. A drifter had tried to climb it one night, drunk or just desperate. Nita remembered the blood that had soaked his clothes and darkened the dust beneath his tangled, slashed corpse. She shook herself, angry at her own weakness. The past week had left her fragile, full of darkness and childish fears. Carter had offered a clean place to sleep, and this was just a wire gate, nothing more. He was waiting for her. Nita tossed her head, picked up her water jugs, and marched past the razor-wire soldier.

“You’ll have to carry this when you go in and out.” Carter offered her a small plastic card. “You can’t get past the gate without it. Are you all right?”

He was concerned. “I’m just tired.” Nita reached inside the neck of her shirt, fished up the small bag that held her few remaining pieces of scrip, and tucked the card into it. “Thank you,” she said. He was also nervous. His feelings radiated strongly, unmistakably, at this close range. She looked around, jumpy in this strange place, reacting a little to his nervousness. Houses lined the dusty street, bathed in yellow light from lamps on tall poles. So much light! “It looks like a city,” she said.

“It’s like a town. A small one,” Carter said. “The base where I was stationed in Chicago was a lot bigger. This way.” He turned abruptly onto a narrow walk that led up to one of the buildings.

It wasn’t too bad. Fewer people lived here than in The Dalles, so it wasn’t as noisy. Carter had unlocked the door and Nita followed him inside, blinking in the sudden light. The luxury of the room took her breath away. Curtains hung at the window, made of rich, glossy cloth. A thick carpet covered the floor. She touched the padded arm of a sofa, feeling a little dizzy. “The foreman at the ag-plex lived like this,” she said aloud. “We used to peek through the windows when he wasn’t around. We kids thought it was heaven.”

“It’s just a basic, Corps apartment. No frills.”

She had embarrassed him for some reason. Nita bit her lip. The last of her self-assurance was evaporating in the face of this luxury. She was lost here, out of her depth. No, it was David who was lost. Carter was speaking and Nita forced herself to pay attention to his words.

“You and your daughter can sleep in the bedroom,” he was saying. “That’ll give you some privacy. The shower’s in here. I’ll get you a towel.” Carter bustled around as he talked, covering his discomfort with motion.

Nita put Rachel down on the soft, wide bed, hoping she’d stay asleep for a little while longer. The shower was in a small white room along with a toilet and a sink. Incredible. Nita peered through the glass doors, feeling as if she was trapped in some crazy dream. “How do you work this?” she asked.

“Haven’t you ever used a shower before?”

He sounded so
surprised
. The giggle escaped in spite of herself. “We used a pail.” She shook her head. “When the water got too dirty, we poured in on the beans. Where did you grow up?”

“Western Pennsylvania.” Carter looked away. “Outside of Pittsburgh.”

“It’s all right.” Puzzled Nita groped for the source of his discomfort. “There was a shower house on the ag-plex, but it cost too much for us kids to use it. Then I went to hunt bees for David and we lived in a tent, up in the hills. Does that bother you?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Carter laughed awkwardly. “I guess I took some things for granted. I mean, water’s tight, but even in the suburbs, even on a welfare card, you get time in a public shower. The water gets recycled,” he said quickly. “It’s not wasted.”

“I never lived in a city. That’s all.” Nita gave him a tentative smile. “You do things differently there. I grew up in the Dry. What do I push, or turn, or whatever?”

He showed her the lever that turned the water on and told her that it was on a timer and would go off by itself after a few minutes. Then he retreated, closing the door tightly behind him. Nita stripped off her shirt and jeans and stepped into the plastic cabinet. When she turned the lever, water fell down on her like rain, but gentle and warm. It ran sensuously across her skin, funneled down between her milk-heavy breasts, over the flat curve of her stomach, and into the dark hair between her legs. Nita shook her head and smiled as water spattered the cabinet walls. She unbraided her hair, let the water wash through it, and combed the squeaky wet strands with her fingers.

It was wonderful. She wanted to stay in there forever.

The water shut off all too soon. Regretfully, Nita dried herself , careful not to drop any of the water onto the floor where it would evaporate and be wasted. In the bedroom, Rachel was beginning to fuss. Nita pulled on her clothes hastily and opened the door. Carter was hovering in the doorway to the bedroom, eyeing Rachel, his indecision humming in the air. He wasn’t used to babies. Nita slipped past him and scooped Rachel into her arms. “I’m sorry.” She lifted her shirt, letting Rachel find a nipple. “She really is a quiet baby, most of the time.”

“That’s all right.” Carter was carefully not looking at her breast. “Do you need anything else? I put a glass of water by the bed.”

Aha. “We’re fine.” Nita smiled for him, trying to make him feel easier. “Thank you for letting us stay here,” she told him.

His eyelids flickered. “Good night,” he said and closed the door softly behind him.

He had offered her sanctuary and now he wanted her. Men. Nita sighed and shifted Rachel to the other breast. Did he think that would horrify her? She smiled. How old did he think she was, anyway? She had a child. She shifted Rachel to her other breast, the smile lingering. He was honest, this man. He had been honest about his fear, out in the darkness. She liked him for that. Lying down, she curled around her daughter, pulling the quilt over them both. She was tired, but sleep brought dreams of David hit by a truck on the highway, his throat slit by a thief, or torn to pieces by feral dogs.

Those dreams weren’t the worst. The worst were the dreams where he walked away, and never looked back as she called and called.

Rachel whimpered.

“It’s all right, love, it’s all right,” Nita murmured. But it was not all right. She closed her eyes against the stinging tears and concentrated on her daughter’s primitive, hunger-satisfied content.

Nita woke suddenly, wondering when she had fallen asleep. She had dreamed, but she couldn’t remember it. David again? Throat aching with dream tears, Nita eased herself off the bed, tucking the quilt and pillow around Rachel. It was dark in the room, but light from the tall lamps outside seeped in through the windows. Nita peered out The world looked dead, colorless and gray. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it wouldn’t go down. It was so easy to die in this dry land.

David had loved her. She had felt his love for her, warm as his body against hers at night. She had felt the dark shadow of his fear, too; she had had no choice but to feel it. The darkness and the silence pressed around Nita, closing on her like a fist It made her feel more alone than she had ever felt before — even on that long ago day when she had run away from Mama and Alberto forever.

David had come after her then. He had searched for her and found her, alone in the Dry. And she had told him why she had run, because she had understood at last that he loved her.

The first, faint shadow of fear had been born then, on that day. If only . . . she had kept silent.

If only.

Nita leaned her forehead against the thick, cool glass of the window. The dream-tears made a hard lump in her throat and that emptiness outside threatened to drown her, suck the life out of her. Slowly Nita became aware of Carter. He was awake, too, silent in the other room. He wanted her, and, beneath his desire, he felt sorry for her. Because he thought David was dead? Strange man; honest enough to admit that he was afraid, upset because she had never used a shower, angry at himself for his own feelings. He cared about her.

The emptiness beat at the window like a dark wing, trying to get in. Nita edged away, reaching for the bedroom door. It creaked a little as she pushed it open. Carter heard it and knew she was there. Nita took a single step into the room, her heart beating fast, his desire flickering through her like heat lightening. He lay on the sofa that he’d pulled out into a bed, watching her, just visible in the light that seeped in through the windows. He wasn’t sure yet why she was there. But he hoped.

She smiled, invisibly in the dark. The darkness crouched at Nita’s heels and she closed the door against it. He didn’t say anything as she came to stand beside him. She took off her shirt and dropped it onto the floor, hearing the soft hiss of his indrawn breath, aware of his gaze on her skin, hot as noon sun.

“I told you no strings.” His voice was husky.

“I heard you. Hush now.”

David had never come to this town. He had been afraid of her, afraid of what Rachel might be. Darkness lurked on the other side of the flimsy walls. Nita closed her eyes briefly and touched the smooth skin of Carter’s shoulder. He shivered, propped on one elbow, face turned up to her. Nita ran her fingers lightly across the dense curl of his hair, traced the jut of his cheekbones beneath his pale skin. How could you live in the sun with skin so white? She touched his lips lightly with her fingertips, her heart beating fast now, a hot, sweet ache between her legs. When he reached up to tangle his fingers in her loose hair, she slid onto the bed beside him, losing herself in the quick, searing heat of his lips and tongue, twining her legs with his. He rolled onto her and she arched beneath him, breathless with his desire and hers, too. She locked her legs around his narrow hips, moving with the rhythm of his body, riding the tight, soaring spiral of their mingled passion. The bright nova of his coming burst inside Nita and she cried out as he swept her along with him.

His small twitch of reaction told her what she had done — called David’s name. She twisted away from him, burying her face in the pillow. The tears came at last, unstoppable. Because she had hurt him. Because he wasn’t David.

He pulled her gently against him, cradling her face against his chest, stroking her damp hair back from her face. There was no anger inside him, only warmth and a little sadness. “I’m sorry you didn’t find him.” He traced the curve of her cheek with a gentle fingertip. “Part of me isn’t sorry,” he said, and the sadness showed in his smile. “I was afraid I was never going to see you again.” He kissed her gently and Nita tasted the salt of her own tears on her lips. Then he looked down, startled.

“I’m sorry.” Nita wiped at the trickle of milk on her breasts.

Surprised, Carter touched one dark nipple, watching beads of white swell, combine, and trickle down the dark curve of her breast. “Does that always happen?” he asked, fascinated.

“Usually.” Nita smiled through her tears. “Sometimes it’s worse. Be glad Rachel was hungry tonight.”

“I didn’t know that.” Carter met her eyes, his own face gentle. “Tell me about yourself,” he said. “Anything. About David, if you want to.”

“Tell him about David? She wanted to talk about David; she wanted to tell Carter how much she loved him, how he had been a sanctuary of safety and comfort after a childhood of confusion and hurting silence. She needed to tell him so that they would both know. Nita drew a shaky breath. To tell him that, she would have to tell him why David was afraid. She closed her eyes briefly, thinking of Seth and his molten violence. “I was born right here in The Dalles,” she said. “We had a soy farm, I guess. My father . . . was killed when I was little. After that, we went to live with my brother Alberto on a bush farm in the Valley. I didn’t mean to come back here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“About my father?” She studied his face because he was sad again. “Don’t be.” She turned his hand over and traced the lines in his palm. “An old woman I knew claimed she could read your future in your hand. I never knew my father.” She laid his hand down and covered it with her own. “He got shot in some kind of water war. Mama never forgave him for getting killed and leaving her. When I was little, I thought it was my fault, her anger.” Nita sighed. Ghosts inhabited this town. Hurtful ghosts. “She was angry because she had loved him and he had died. I didn’t understand until it was too late,” Nita said. “I think I could have loved Mama if I had understood.”

Carter’s hand closed tight on hers. “I don’t remember my father either. He died when I was a baby. My mother never remarried.” He lifted one shoulder in a jerky shrug, restless suddenly, his hazel eyes dark as copper in the dim light.

A wound here? Something he didn’t want to talk about anyway. Nita lifted his hand, kissing his fingers gently.

“I met a woman who reminded me of you earlier tonight.” Carter changed the subject abruptly. “She talked about the land as if it were alive, as if we could kill it. The land mattered to her. I can’t feel that,” he said. “It just looks like dirt and rock to me.”

“You have to know how to look.”

“Can you show me?” he asked softly. “I think it would help me understand the farmers.”

“Yes,” she said. He wanted something so much here. She wondered just what it was. “We’ll go up into the hills, and I’ll show you.”

He pulled her close again, his breath warm against her face. “You did a crazy thing, you know, coming into that culvert tonight. You could have gotten hurt.”

He was asking her something and she wasn’t sure what it was. “They meant to kill you,” she said and shut her lips tightly, afraid he would ask her how she knew.