18
Sweet Dreams Are Made of These
Sunday
Justine awakened to a bright New Mexico sunrise and delectable aromas coming from the kitchen. But how? Darrius was still lying next to her. She looked around the disordered room—covers everywhere, the scent of desert sage lingering in the air, pillows on the floor.
She swiped hair away from her face and said, “What a night!” Her body was still stiff and hurting from the workout Darrius had given her.
Darrius stirred on his side of the bed and then opened his eyes. “Something sure smells good.”
“What is it? Do you have a maid or something?”
“I got up early and put a few things together. I also packed us a picnic basket.”
“A picnic—”
“Yeah! Today is ours, baby. I’ve got plans for us.”
“Can I take my camera?”
“Leave it in the car, but you’ll be so excited when we get to where I’m taking you.”
Justine sat up completely. “Where are we going?”
“We eat first and shower, and then I’ll surprise you.”
“You’re already the best surprise of my life. Until I met you, I was just plain ol’ Justine from the streets of San Francisco. Now look at me. I’m in bed with a prince!”
He tossed back the sheets and slowly stood. “Don’t send any Hail Marys my way yet. I’m just a man, Justine.”
“Not from my side of the bed.”
He saw the contented smile on her lovely face. With her hair tossed in a frazzle of curls about her face and neck and the sheet barely covering her breasts, he had the urge to take her again. But there would be time for that later. He knew if he touched her again that morning their picnic would not happen. “You lie there and relax. Let me finish getting breakfast ready, then you can come in and partake. Okay?”
She said, “Okay.” She was drifting off, dreaming of their lovemaking when she heard him call her.
“Not asleep, are you?” he called from the kitchen.
“I soon will be if you don’t hurry and give me a reason to get up.”
“Just you wait. These aromas will lure you so wickedly you’ll float in here to me.”
More tantalizing aromas soon filled the air, and Justine wrapped Darrius’s robe around her and walked unannounced into the kitchen.
A mixture of sage, meat, baked bread and berries filled the air. Darrius was at the stove mixing a concoction of batter and mixed berries, not seeing her, but feeling her presence the moment she walked in. “Come on, you cheated. I wanted to have the kitchen prepared with a set table and full plates before you came in.”
“The aromas beckoned and I had to come.” She peered into the mixed bowl. “What are you making? More of your fancy bread?”
“Corn batter flapjacks with mixed berries.”
“And the aroma coming from the oven?”
“Jackrabbit links.”
Her smile suddenly turned upside down. “You are kidding, aren’t you?”
“Why? Doesn’t jackrabbit sound appetizing?”
“Frankly, no!”
“Good, then I’ll turn it into wild turkey. That sounds better?”
She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his hips. “Much better. Wild turkey, huh?”
“Ever had it before?”
“No, but I have had a wild stallion.” The palm of her hand rubbed against a half-saluting erection.
“Well, if you keep hanging around here, no telling how wild I’ll get.” At that, he ladled batter into the pan and watched it sizzle around the edges. “Just perfect. Umm, smells better than usual. I love how you inspire the best in me, Justine. Everything seems better when you’re around.”
Plugging in the coffee maker, he said, “A little caffeine to get us jumping while on the road. Tell you what, since you’re here, set the table for me, will ya?”
As if pretending to be the dutiful wife, she opened the spacious cupboards and took out a couple of reddish-brown plates with vibrant yellow and red hummingbirds in the middle. She ran her fingers along the rolled edges of the plates, admiring them. “These are almost too lovely to eat on.”
He turned and sweetly kissed her cheek. “But we have a lot to accomplish today. But before that, I have something that belongs to you.”
“Let me guess; my heart?”
“Cute, but I think I already have that, don’t I?”
“Indeed. What do you have?”
“Something I thought you liked enough to keep with you.” He ducked around a corner and returned with her basket. “Look familiar?”
“My basket! I completely forgot it, being so wrapped up in you these last few days.” She took it from him and examined the etched details, the delicate carvings. “Thanks so much for keeping it for me.”
“Just don’t forget about it again.”
“No way. It goes in the truck with us, right next to my suitcase. I’ll send it ahead tomorrow along with my Koshari clowns and the rest of my trinkets.”
“Good idea.” He took the sausage out of the oven, flipped the flapjacks into a platter and filled the pan with more batter. He filled both plates and added fresh blueberries, watermelon slices, kiwi and strawberries on the side.
Justine was awed by the feast he had whipped up. Not only was he a great lover, but he could cook, too. Yes, he was definitely a keeper. Her old thoughts were returning—the marriage game. Her thoughts were running ahead of her because he hadn’t mentioned a thing about marriage or engagement. That was another problem she saw in herself—jumping the gun.
She asked brightly, trying to redirect her thoughts, “So, where are you taking me today?”
“El Morro National Monument.”
“Near the Zuni mountains?”
“One and the same.”
“I’ve studied parts of New Mexico and other states. At first it was in school, then I realized I liked geography and studied maps while in college. Maybe I was mapping my way to areas I wanted to visit.”
“Could be. Now you’ll have a chance to see some of the things you may have studied. El Morro is a fabulous place, rich in history. You also know that where we’re going is close to sacred Anasazi ruins, right?”
“I wasn’t sure of that. Can we see them?”
“It’s sacred and very hilly, just like the land beyond Red Rock. It would be disrespectful, not to mention dangerous, to go there, but I can show you some other sights.”
“I want to see as much as I can see.”
His hand stretched across the table to caress her cheek. “I don’t think there’s anything I dislike about you.”
“Even the bullheadedness?”
“That is part of who you are.”
“And you know this because…? Oh, let me guess, the eagle told you.”
“I know you’re kidding, but a totem did tell me—my dragonfly totem. I don’t take kindly to just any woman; namely, those with guns and liquor bottles.”
“I’m glad you’re able to joke about that. I know she hurt you.”
“She did, but that part of my life is over. You’re with me now. How we do this after you leave tomorrow is the trick.”
“Well, as my totem says, take things slow and let things work out on their own. And they will, Darrius. Trust it.”
“You’re right.” He looked at the wall clock, noting the time. “We must eat quickly. You still need to shower, without me—”
“What a drag!”
“Indeed, but if we’re to explore, we must do it during the best of light. Besides, you need to get more clothing. Your clown shirt is wrinkled, your sandals are wet and your jeans are stained, though you would look beautiful in a sack.”
“Sweet talk. Words like that could make me move in here with you if I wasn’t leaving in a day or two. Would you let me?”
“In a heartbeat!”
* * *
Past the visitor center and in the near distance stood rows of tall pointed sandstone rocks called Inscription Rock, a.k.a. El Morro National Monument. Justine was speechless at the breathtaking sight.
“The bluff is a hell of a place, is it not?” Darrius asked, reacting to the awe he saw on her face.
“Wh—What?”
“That’s what it’s called, the bluff, and aren’t you glad I insisted you wear ground-grippers instead of those pretty sandals?”
“Oh, yes. I was just so taken by—”
“The beauty of El Morro?”
“It’s incredible.”
“You have yet to see how incredible it truly is. Let’s walk another half mile so you can see the inscriptions. They date back to the fifteenth century. You’ll have to hold my hand, though. The terrain is hilly. Can’t have you falling off a cliff.”
“Could that happen up there?”
“Only near the ruins, which we won’t be going to, though I know you want to.”
“Can’t we?”
“Justine,” he said sternly.
“Okay, okay. Show me the inscriptions, then let’s tour. Surely, there are other places you can take me to.”
“There are, and just so you could have something tangible to remember this day, I have one of your cameras. I slid it into the picnic basket.”
“Quite the man, aren’t you?”
“Quite! Let’s roll. I think you’ll like Inscription Loop. There are over two thousand signatures and petroglyphs to look at.”
“Really? Who are some of the signers?”
“Mostly the Spanish on their trek to conquer many a Native American lifestyle. I can’t remember some of the names, but you’ll see them. They’re very old, and preservationists are constantly finding ways to keep them safe.”
Inscription Rock was a wealth of sights that Justine was eager to capture. She was thankful Darrius brought one of her cameras. The Examiner would be indebted to her for years to come for these pictures. She only wished she could shoot the ruins, the old Anasazi villages at the top of the mesa and whatever it was behind Red Rock, but values and traditions were not something she dared tamper with. It would be like someone coming into her parents’ home, uninvited, and rifling through their most prized possessions. Besides, her lover would send her flying back to her own ancestors, and she was not ready to go yet. She took his hand and followed him to the wall, which was covered with inscriptions and petroglyphs.
Darrius led her to something he thought she would love: the first English inscription made by Lieutenant J.H. Simpson and artist R.H Kern. Without a word, she aimed and shot the 1849 inscription, murmuring, “This autograph will be the prize of the photo spread.”
“Not quite,” Darrius said. “I think this will be: Don Juan de Ornate, New Mexico’s supposed first governor, though many an Indian ruled this place first. Let’s look at his and a few more and then try to get to the pool of water at the bottom for our picnic.”
“Is it safe for us to travel down that far?”
He smiled. “No, not the way I go. I come here a lot when I need to think.”
If only I were as brave as he thinks I am. “To have sweat lodges or vision quests?”
“No, just to think about life, what’s going on and what I need to do to make my people happy despite adversity.”
Justine looped her arm through his. “You always seem to think of others first. That’s the second thing I like about you.”
“And the first?”
“The way you love me. I feel warm and needed when with you.”
“I need you too, kid. Come on, my belly is rumbling, and we’ve got things yet to see.”
Justine took a few shots of the inscription Don Juan Ornate and his men made back in 1605. Using her poor Spanish skills, she tried to make out the inscribed words. Finally, she pulled Darrius away from other inscriptions and asked, “What does Paso por aqui mean?”
“ ‘I passed through here.’ He made his arrival on April 16, 1605. You see where he made his mark, just above a native petroglyph, almost disfiguring its natural beauty.”
“That bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Our land should be respected. I, too, am part of the efforts to keep this place intact. I donate money, and sometimes my time when I have it.” He faced her. “I love my land, Justine, and anyone who can’t doesn’t have a place in my life. That’s why I’m so taken with you. True, you would like to venture into territory that is off limits, but not to exploit it without seeing the beauty of it. You want to share its beauty with others, not see what you can get out of it.”
Not quite knowing how to respond, she took his hand. “Come, let’s see the rest of its beauty.”
With a lighter heart, Darrius took her to a place that he had sworn he would never take anyone who wasn’t Native American—the Pueblo ruins. Atop a large hillside, they stared into the distance and saw the beautiful sandstone city sectioned off into what looked like separate ancient homes. “The Pueblo city, huh? It reminds me of the old Pueblo woman who had this bracelet before I did. Her family probably had many memories of how this place used to look when it was thriving.”
“Probably so.”
Justine’s eyes soon looked beyond him and widened in glory. She was dying to photograph the place, but remembered what Darrius had said about loving her for her non-exploitive ways. She wanted to keep his view of her intact, and that meant not desecrating sacred lands for a mere photograph. It took hundreds of years for the Pueblos to create life there, back in the day, and that’s how she wanted it to stay. Yet her zeal to explore was almost getting the best of her.