The flying lead change whipped her head up. “Excuse me?”
“Walter White Mouse. I wasn’t trying to piss you off. I didn’t know about your mother when I sent him away.”
She looked at him. All the playfulness gone from his face, all the movement gone from his body. Was this what he did when he saw those visions? “It’s okay. He got better.” It was a hard thing to admit, but she hadn’t been about to do anything for Mr. White Mouse. It was harder still to say what came next. But she wanted him to hear it. “And you were right. He couldn’t have afforded any of that anyway.” She cleared her throat. “Why don’t you like vaccines?”
He began to move again—not much, but she could see his fingers tapping on his leg. “Did you know that the government once gave my people blankets contaminated with smallpox?”
She blinked at him. If she only knew what he was going to say next. If she only had a clue. An inkling. The barest of hints. And yet... She answered carefully. “I read about that in school.”
“But you didn’t really believe it.” When she didn’t contradict him, he added, “And sick cattle. Institutionalized eradication.”
What was he implying? “You don’t think I’d give people tainted vaccinations, do you?”
“Not you—not on purpose.” The cynicism was back. She didn’t like it on him, not one bit. “I said the government did it. We’re just being...careful. Have you considered the possibility that it’s not the flu that’s making people sick?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s not smallpox,” she snapped. “All the flu symptoms are there. You should be telling people to let me vaccinate them. Nobody wants the swine flu on top of the stomach flu.”
He laughed. He laughed? What the hell? Still smiling, he turned to look at her. Less cynical. More like he knew something she didn’t know. “Gotten any of those samples back? Got any proof it’s the flu?”
She felt like she was back in that exam room with him telling Mr. White Mouse to go to the sweat lodge again. He was holding out on her, but what the hell would a Traditional Master of Fine Arts know about viruses? “I’m going to call the lab on Monday.”
He looked at her and smiled. “Let me know. I’m not trying to make your life harder. Besides, they make some of those vaccines with mercury. Not good for anyone.”
The silence settled over them with the twilight. She didn’t believe anyone was out to get him—them—but she wouldn’t disagree on the larger principle. He had his reasons for doing what he did. It wasn’t just to drive her crazy. It was because he was trying to protect people. And he wanted proof.
He got some more wood for the fire and refilled her cup. Watching him move around the campfire was enough to make her wish she had a camera, or some paper and pencils, or something to help her remember this moment. She wasn’t a sentimental kind of woman, but she’d give anything to keep the sight of caramel-colored skin glowing in the flickering light in her memory. She didn’t have dreams this good. The tension from the vaccine debate faded in the warm glow of a summer evening. She’d never been camping before, but she was starting to think she might like it.
However, even this living dream had to bow to the pressures of reality. Her blisters began to throb. Sooner or later, she was going to have to get home.
Later wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
He knelt in front of her, backlit by the fire. She could just see his eyes as they moved over her and kept going until they reached the blisters. “How bad are they?”
“They’re fine.” The moment the words left her mouth, she shuddered. The reaction had been involuntary—but she knew he wasn’t buying it. If he ever had. She thought she saw his eyebrow arch. “Actually, they’re not so good.”
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it? I’ll be right back.”
Damn, but he moved fast when he wanted to. Within seconds, he was invisible in the dark, only the sound of his bare feet crunching on grass to tell her he was still there—somewhere. “Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a rack wagon. Keep all my supplies in it,” he called back from the dark.
She had no idea where he was—except she could tell he wasn’t up in the tent. In what she hoped was the far-away distance, a coyote howled. Mr. Steinman popped back into her head. She didn’t want to be eaten by any wildlife today, please and thank you. And she didn’t want Rebel to be eaten either.
And just as easily as he’d disappeared, he was back in the circle of light. “Let me see.” Sitting on his heels like it was the easiest thing in the world, he slid one hand down her calf and picked up her foot. She leaned back on her elbows, only a little nervous about this contact. They were dressed now. She wasn’t overheating. They weren’t in the water. And he was still touching her.