Rebel Page 16

  A flash of memory: a man’s slow, deep voice explaining how the beacon cactus captured and stored sunlight by day, but only enough to keep them alight a few hours past sunset.

  Could that voice have been his father, who could have seen for himself that the cacti held heat as well as light?

  Ross had no idea. But if a day was so cloudy or rainy that the sun never came out, the cacti wouldn’t glow that night, so the explanation was probably right. Jennie would know for sure, he supposed.

  He carried the crossbow Mia had made for him—before, he’d had to check out a pistol to do sentry duty—but never had reason to draw it. Ross might feel unsettled, but the night was peaceful.

  The bells rang the change of watch. Ross considered volunteering for another shift, but he knew Ms. Lowenstein would turn him down. She didn’t want exhausted sentries who might miss something.

  Ross reluctantly headed back to the command post. He’d managed to avoid thinking about Summer for a few hours, and hoped the break might give him some new ideas. But it hadn’t. He couldn’t change himself into the wandering gunslinger she’d imagined, he couldn’t change Las Anclas to suit her better, and he didn’t know how to change her mind.

  A shadow moved behind him. A familiar scent of dried herbs and roses drifted to him on the breeze, telling him who was coming as much as her soft footfalls and curvy, broad-shouldered silhouette. His heart lifted.

  “Hi, Jennie,” Ross said. “Who are the new Rangers?”

  “Sujata and Paco,” Jennie replied.

  He heard the sadness and regret behind her pride. Then Ross felt guilty for leaving her alone to watch others get something she deserved but could never have.

  “I should have gone with you,” Ross said.

  To his surprise, she chuckled. “No . . . No . . . Just as well you didn’t.”

  Ross stiffened, instantly wary. “Did Summer do something?”

  Jennie smothered another laugh—what was so funny?—but spoke seriously. “Not at all. She watched, but she was perfectly well-behaved. Last I saw, she was at the stables, peeking at the royal horses. Penny’s near her time. I think Summer’s hoping if she checks in enough, she’ll be around for the birth.”

  Ross relaxed as Jennie accompanied him back along the wall, recounting the ceremony. Ordinarily Ms. Lowenstein came down hard on sentries chatting while on duty, but she trusted Jennie to keep watch while talking and he was about to turn over his watch anyway.

  Meredith met him at the command post. “Hi, Ross.” To Jennie, she said, “Guess the ‘great archer’ is back on her real duty.”

  Ross smiled at her dead-on imitation of Mr. Preston.

  “Are you disappointed, Meredith?” Jennie asked.

  “Nah. Well, sort of. I liked the idea of riding out to find bad guys. But I liked fending them off from here too.” Meredith thumped her bow on the sentry wall, her frizzy hair gleaming red-gold in the torchlight.

  “And it probably doesn’t hurt that everyone else got ‘train harder’ or ‘thanks but no thanks’ or ‘shut up and go away,’ but you got ‘you’re too good to lose to the Rangers,” Jennie teased.

  Meredith grinned. “Did you see Henry’s face? I thought for a second he might punch Mr. Preston.”

  “If he’d brought that fire to training, maybe he’d have had a chance,” Jennie said thoughtfully.

  Meredith snorted. “Not likely. Henry has one moment of being serious once a year, and that was it.”

  Her laughter floated behind them as Ross walked down the steps with Jennie.

  “Ross, what do you want to do?” Jennie asked. “Indra invited everybody to Luc’s. Do you want to go?”

  She left the choice up to him, as she always did. He appreciated how she never made him feel trapped, but ever since Summer’s arrival he’d begun to wonder how much of teacher-Jennie, as Mia called her, was mixed with girlfriend-Jennie. She had the exact same calming note in her voice that she used on the schoolyard.

  I’m not her student, Ross thought.

  He wasn’t made of glass, either. So he didn’t like crowds. But Jennie liked dancing, and Ross liked—maybe even loved—watching her dance.

  “Yeah. I do.” If he looked around to see if anyone was watching them, he’d lose his nerve. So he didn’t look. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Jennie’s beautiful face, her full lips, her skin like the night sky, and he put his arm around her waist.

  He felt her startled inhale—he could feel every breath that she took—and then she moved to do the same to him, laying her palm flat against his side. He could feel her warmth through her clothes, too, just as she must be able to feel his.

  Teacher-Jennie vanished. Now she was his Jennie, who moved with him as if they were one person in two bodies, whether they were dancing or fighting or merely walking side by side. Her breathing matched his, deep and controlled with an occasional tiny stutter, as if she were having trouble keeping her hand in place. As if she wanted to touch him more.

  That was why. He knew it the same way he knew how to move with her, and she with him. They could read each other’s bodies like some Changed people could read minds.

  “Meet at my place?” Jennie asked. “I want to put on something I can dance in.”

  She brushed at her teacher clothes, sending up a gritty puff of chalk dust.

  “Sure. I want to wash up and change, too.” It had been six months since Ross had gotten regular access to hot baths and clean clothes, but the pleasure of it hadn’t worn off. He’d often spent years in one outfit, and in winter it and he had often stayed grimy for months.

  He was too self-conscious to kiss Jennie right there below the wall full of alert sentries, so they squeezed hands and parted.

  Later, Ross thought. In private.

  He’d rather have kept thinking of Jennie, and the curve of her waist under his arm. But as he reached the surgery, he couldn’t help looking for Summer.

  The building was dark and empty. Ross didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried, but he forced himself not to go check the stables. She was safe within the town walls, and he was not going to let her take over his life or even ruin this one night. Tonight was for him and Jennie.

  Ross bathed and changed into the blue shirt Jennie had made for him, the new pair of jeans he’d finally got around to buying from Mr. Kim, and his old leather jacket.

  He hesitated over his gauntlet, then left it on the table. If he’d been going out with Mia, he’d have left it on, just to see her never-fading delight at her handiwork. But Jennie wouldn’t care, and he wanted to touch her with both hands.

  Downstairs, he checked himself in the mirror while cats wound around his ankles. Would Jennie like what he chose? His gaze fell on the handprint scars across his throat, and he turned away from the mirror. Of course she would.

  Jennie waited for him outside her house. The bright-moths living under the eaves cast a flickering light over the low-cut red dress that clung so temptingly to her curves, the one she’d worn to teach him to dance. The same way he could sense her next move before she made it when they sparred together, he knew that she’d selected the dress because it was his favorite.

  She often unbraided her hair to go dancing, but tonight her braids still swung around her face as she stepped toward him. His smile broadened when he saw she was wearing the agate beads.

  “It’s like Christmas all over again,” she said with a laugh.

  Ross smiled, but didn’t reply. There had to be watching eyes from the windows overhead. Jennie’s little siblings never missed a chance to spy and tease.

  Ross and Jennie walked close together, but not touching. Instinct said, later.

  At Luc’s, music spilled out the open door in a wide shaft of golden light and tempting smells. Ross heard crowd noise, and fought the urge to run. The voices and laughter made it clear that everyone was having a good time. It was just a party, like normal people enjoyed. He didn’t hear Henry, and that laugh would have been impossible to miss. Even better, he di
dn’t hear Felicité’s voice, which too often reminded him of the chiming of the crystal trees. He didn’t see her, either, and even in this crowd, her enormous hat would have caught his eye.

  The person he did see was Summer, perched high on a barrel across from the musicians, the lamplight glittering in her eyes. Her head whipped toward Ross, sending her curtain of black hair swinging. He instantly dropped his gaze. She was not going to ruin his night with her anger or contempt.

  Jennie murmured in his ear, “She’s not watching you.”

  Relieved, Ross raised his head. Summer had turned her attention to the dance floor, where Kerry was dancing with Alfonso Medina. He moved lightly for a guy his size, but Summer only had eyes for Kerry, and Ross could guess why. Kerry danced like a fighter, her movements strong and precise, graceful but not romantic. Alfonso was her partner, nothing more; Kerry appeared to be teaching him the dance.

  A brown hand waved from the crowd. Inside the hot room, a cool breeze rippled Ross’s hair. He laughed.

  “There you are,” Yolanda exclaimed. “I held places for you!”

  She pointed to the bench where she, Jose, Brisa, and Becky sat, along with Brisa’s sister Dominica, and Fernando Herrera. They squeezed over, making space for Ross and Jennie.

  “Congratulations on the invite to try again,” Jennie said to Jose, and when he grinned, shaking his head, “Mr. Preston doesn’t say that unless he means it.”

  “He sure didn’t invite me,” Brisa said, laughing. “He sounded like he wished I’d quit before he had a chance to tell me to go away!”

  “Did you want him to invite you?” Becky asked in her barely-there voice. Ross had to lean in to hear her.

  “Getting up before dawn every day to exercise till every muscle in my body hurt? Are you kidding?” Brisa retorted.

  “Then why’d you stay?” Jose asked.

  “Didn’t want to be a quitter.” Then, with a laugh, Brisa added, “And to annoy Mr. Preston. The glare he gave me every morning made it all worthwhile. I’ve been wanting to get back at him ever since he kicked you out, Jennie. And tried to kill you!”

  Brisa looked straight at Ross. He started to duck, then made himself meet her gaze. It was only Brisa, being unexpectedly protective of him. He’d had no idea that she cared. Ross managed a smile. “Thanks.”

  Jennie, who had frozen when Brisa had mentioned her, relaxed her body in the deliberate way that Ross knew so well. “Sweet revenge, and you’re in the best shape of your life. Good work, Brisa.”

  “Yeah!” Brisa flexed her arm. She was as plump as ever, but her biceps bulged visibly beneath the soft layer of fat. She offered her tensed arm to Becky, who stroked it and murmured something Ross couldn’t catch. “Come on, let’s dance and celebrate my escape!”

  Laughing, Brisa slid her arm around Becky’s waist. The girls rose as one and joined the dance floor. The band was playing a lively tune, but they moved at their own, slower pace, arms tightly wrapped around each other, heads leaning together, black hair mingling with blonde.

  A waiter plunked down a tray of tacos and a jug of tamarindo. Savory and tart smells wafted up. Ross helped himself to everything, but Jennie only filled her glass.

  She took a long drink, her head tilted back and her neck arched gracefully, then asked, “Want to dance?”

  He already had a taco in hand, so he held it up, relieved to have an excuse. He did want to dance, but not in this crowd; he wanted to dance alone with her in her own backyard, just the two of them under the stars. “Go ahead.”

  Indra came up, his arm around Nasreen. He was in dancing clothes, not his Ranger uniform: white pants and a long white tunic split up to his hips, embroidered in black. Nasreen wore a deep purple dress and a lavender scarf wrapped around her hair and throat, the end trailing gracefully down her back to the same length as Indra’s braid.

  Ross wondered if Indra had stood in front of a mirror and examined his clothes, hoping to please the person he was with. Maybe Nasreen had, too, and Brisa and Becky. Maybe all the couples here had. The world seemed to shift around Ross as he tested the idea that he wasn’t so different from anyone else in the room. He might not like being in a crowd, but he was still part of it. He wasn’t an outsider anymore, he was just another guy on a date.

  Indra nodded pleasantly at Jennie, who nodded back with a smile like his . . . exactly like his. Measured, not spontaneous. Then his smile vanished. “Have any of you seen Paco?”

  All heads shook.

  “This is his party, too,” Indra said. “I sent Sujata to see if he went back to his room.”

  Sujata appeared out of the crowd. She, too, wore a split tunic and pants, hers in blue embroidered with white. Like Nasreen, she wore a scarf, but hers was blue gauze and wrapped only around her throat, leaving her black hair uncovered.

  “Paco’s at the back wall,” Sujata said. “He took over Henry’s turn at sentry duty.”

  Indra frowned. “Why would he do that?”

  “Maybe he felt sorry for Henry,” Sujata said, but she didn’t sound as if she believed it. “I told Paco he should come, but he said he couldn’t abandon his post.”

  “If Henry really cared, he’d have taken training seriously,” Jose said. “Where is he anyway?”

  “Probably off with Felicité,” Sujata said, rolling her eyes. “Bet he’d have skipped out on sentry duty anyway. It’s not right. Paco should be here. He’s a Ranger!”

  Indra looked at Jennie, not Sujata, as he said, “Maybe Paco wants some private time to let it sink in.”

  Jennie nodded, but avoided Indra’s gaze. “Just enjoy the evening, Sujata. We’re here, so let’s celebrate. Who wants to dance?”

  Ross noticed that Jennie’s invitation seemed directed at everyone but Indra, though he was still watching her. Indra started to reach out to her, but Jennie turned her head away. He smoothly moved to take Nasreen’s hand, and they headed for the dance floor.

  Ross wondered what that had been about. Indra and Jennie used to date, but that was over now. Something to do with the Rangers? With Paco?

  Ross’s senses had sharpened, noise and light and smells clear and distinct. It wasn’t quite danger sense, but close, as if he were missing something important. Was he ever going to really understand other people?

  Tommy Horst shouldered his way through the crowd, his height and bulk easily moving others aside. “Jennie? How about a dance?”

  He sent a challenging glance at Ross as he spoke. That, Ross understood. But he wasn’t threatened. If Jennie agreed, it was only because she wanted a dance partner. Ross raised his taco and smiled. Tommy looked confused.

  “Sure.” Jennie nodded at Tommy, but without taking his offered hand.

  Once they were in the middle of the dance floor, Tommy cleared space with his big body and long reach. Others looked at Jennie, then stepped back, giving her room. By now Ross knew that he wasn’t the only person who thought Jennie was one of the best dancers in Las Anclas.

  She twirled, sending her skirt flaring out in a scarlet circle. Tommy followed along, giving her support when she needed it, and once lifting her over his head. But Ross’s attention was on Jennie alone as she stamped and leaped, now impressing him with the speed and complexity of her hand gestures, now making his whole body burn as she dropped down and slithered along the floor in an unexpectedly sensual movement.

  His breath caught, then caught again as Jennie launched herself into the air, going from a lying position to a flip.

  The crowd cheered. It was an amazing, impossible-looking move. But a different kind of warmth, slower and deeper, filled Ross as he realized how long she must have spent practicing it in secret. And that she’d revealed it now, for the first time, for him. He knew it even before her bright gaze caught his, and she winked at him.

  As he watched her strong, graceful body whirling about the room, he wanted to watch her dance forever, but he wanted to take her away from Luc’s, and be alone with her.

  Ross could be alone wit
h her. He could do anything he wanted. All he needed to do was say yes.

  A familiar panic rose within him, but he neither fought it nor gave in to it. He stayed where he was, watching Jennie dance.

  When the music ended, Tommy stepped away and Sujata took his place. The girls mirrored each other’s movements in a complicated dance Ross had never seen before, though they had obviously danced it many times before. Sujata moved well, but Ross barely noticed her. He only saw Jennie, her beaded braids swinging and her hips swaying in provocative counterpoint, her scarlet blouse barely containing her breasts, her skirt flaring out, her eyes reflecting the lights, he soft lips parted in the joy of movement.

  She was so beautiful.

  Every now and then, she looked straight at him, catching his gaze and holding it long enough for him to get her message: For you.

  She finished her last dance—a solo—and made her way to his side. “Want to go?”

  Outside, Ross breathed in the fresh air, then caught a whiff of burning pine. No one used pine as firewood. It burst into showers of sparks that could float in all directions and set the bone-dry weeds aflame. The smell was gone in another breath, but he and Jennie stood watching the hills until they were sure no fire threatened the town.

  “Thought I smelled smoke,” Jennie said.

  “Me, too.” As he spoke, he realized how unnecessary the words were. They’d both known what the other was thinking and doing.

  They reached out, lacing their fingers together. Her palm was damp but warm, as was his. He let her lead him, and was unsurprised to find her heading for her home rather than his. Unusually, all but one of the windows were dark.

  “Grandma,” Jennie said, indicating the square of light. “The little kids are asleep, Ma’s at the stable with the pregnant mares, and everyone else is dancing at Luc’s or talking politics at Jack’s. Want to dance in the backyard?”

  Once again, she’d read his mind—his body—maybe it was all the same thing. This time he was the one who led her to the yard. The sweet scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air, the stars shone brilliant overhead, and the bushes hid them from view.