69
“Really? You’ve never been to Nebraska before?” Finger asked me, adjusting his sunglasses.
“Except for going to your club that time,” I said. “Otherwise, no. Never had a reason to go. Until now.”
He grinned. He was planning something. “I want to take you somewhere special. Get on.”
I snatched the helmet he held out to me and climbed on the back of his bike, settling into the saddle, my pulse racing. I pressed against him and a deep noise rumbled through his back. We took off and he punched up his speed, my arms tightening around his taut middle. He let the roaring bike hang loose underneath him on the smooth road, keeping our center of gravity easily at his core and in his control. I hadn’t forgotten what this was like; I had kept it sacred in my shrine of shrines all these years. My limbs clung to man and machine, heat searing through me, heart pounding, flying through the wind, flying at the sun.
We left the Black Hills and the expansive farm fields of South Dakota behind, and passed into northern Nebraska. A sign for the Oglala National Grasslands shot by us. Vast sweeps of short grass prairie, waves of burnt yellow and pale green punctuated with small hills of towering dark evergreens swept by us. This used to be all prairie in the old days, but trees were encroaching everywhere now.
Two buffaloes slowly ranged up a hill. Another one hurtled across the golden grasses in the distance. My pulse twanged. Hell, they were huge and fast. Impressive and intimidating. Wild and free the way they had been for centuries in their natural habitat. Grace had been on plenty of bike trips through the region and once told me how buffalo group together in herds as the sun faded from the sky. That would be a sunset to witness.
A long wavy ridge of rock rose in the distance. Butte and peak formations that looked more like a mountain range of frozen layers of sand or a lost city of the stone age. This corner of Nebraska had its own Badlands, just like the Dakotas. Slopes of ground were shadowed from the occasional low lying cloud suspended in the wide open sky, making the greens of the hills sharper, the golden yellows of the dipping valleys deeper. Nature’s pure drama.
He turned his head, gesturing at the sign. “Toadstool Geological Park - Oglala National Grassland”
We rode over a stretch of well kept dirt road, and in no time Finger parked his bike at the turn of the loop trail, and we got off. He immediately took my hand in his large one, keeping me close. Following the signs, we hiked on a dirt trail leading through the ancient riverbed that meandered and twisted. Tufts of grass and brush sprouted the occasional yellow wildflower. Rising before us were unusual rock formations and huge bluffs—an incredible strata of color and texture.
“This is thirty-million years worth of lava ash and sandstone,” Finger said.
People milled around the great stones. A family with two teenagers talked excitedly about having seen animal fossil remains, and an elderly couple with walking poles and protective hats read from a guidebook admiring Nature’s sculpture. And what stones they were—great mushroom-like formations, unlikely swirls and chunks of rock seemingly teetering on pillars at odd angles.
“Wow.” I snapped photos with my phone. “Thus the toadstool.”
“Yeah. A real walk back through time, huh?”
“It’s amazing.”
I took in the vista. A stark wilderness. Remote, desolate even.
He rubbed a hand across his chin. “I like coming here. Clears the mind.”
I winked at him. “I can see the appeal for you. Do they know how these formations came to be? They’re so unusual.”
His lips tipped up. “This is all slow erosion. There are layers of soft clay which erodes away under layers of the hard sandstone, and that creates the strange shapes.”
“It’s strange all right. Even ugly. They look like the building blocks of a prehistoric monster.”
He laughed. “I like that.”
“That strangeness makes them beautiful, though. Wonder what they’ll be like in another couple thousand years.”
His long gaze clung to the big toadstool, unmoving.
I put away my phone. “You come here a lot, don’t you?”
“I do. Here, I get away from the noise. There’s something still yet not still about this place. The light’s always changing, making you discover something new, different. Things get put into a better place when I come here. I sit on a bluff, take in the endless view. Sometimes a mountain sheep wanders by.”
“Oh, what are they like?”
“They have these curled horns like rams. I’ve seen them once up on bluffs watching the sunset. You don’t see them too often, but when you do, it’s pretty cool. They’re kind of majestic actually. Not your run of the mill sheep.” An almost boyish, uncertain look swept over his features, and my heart swelled. There was something shy about him sharing his fondness for this land with me, for the simple private pleasures he treasured. A gift.
I took his hand. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He dug a boot in the dirt. “I thought you might like it.”
“I do like it. I’d like to come back again with you and see a sunset.”
“Can’t beat the pink and purple sky out here.” He squeezed my hand.
“We’re definitely coming back soon.”
The lines of his face tightened suddenly. “Babe, I realize we aren’t the same people we used to be. We’ll be learning new shit about each other and maybe we’ll like it, maybe we won’t, and it’ll take some getting used to. It’ll take patience. Respect.” The sunlight gleamed off his sunglasses. “Right now, I need to know that from here on in, you and me in each other’s arms is at the end of every one of my days.”
My insides fluttered, and I stood up on my toes and kissed him. “I need that too.”
“Want you with me, baby.” He gently brushed my lips with his. “I don’t care much for my apartment in Elk. It’s not a home for us, and I don’t want to bring you there. You’ve got your store and your house in Meager. We can make it our home too.”
Our home.
My heart skipped a beat. He’d brought me here to his special place to declare himself, make a pledge.
He took me in his arms and held me. The sound of the breeze whipping around us, the crush of his body filled my senses. I kissed his scarred cheek. “I want that too.”
He took in a sharp breath. “Let’s go to the club.”
“Let’s go,” I replied.
He slung an arm around my shoulders, and we headed back to his bike.
We got to Elk within the hour and drove through the gates of the Flames of Hell MC. He parked at the head of a long line of Harleys. My stomach tightened as he shut down the bike, and we snapped off our helmets. This was his territory, his realm.
And now it was mine.
We got off his bike, and my knees wobbled as I handed him my helmet. He pulled me close, throwing an arm over my shoulders. That familiar scent of metal, cedar, and sweat filled my nostrils, and the tension evaporated from my muscles. I slid an arm around his waist, his skin warm, taut muscles moving under my fingertips. Mumbled hellos and looks. Shouted greetings. He ushered me inside his clubhouse.
In the large common room I recognized a very pregnant Nina, Butler’s ex and now Catch’s old lady.
“Lenore!” She hugged me.
I pulled back and admired her swollen belly. “Look at you.”
“Ready to pop,” said Nina. “Get him out of me already.”
“A boy?” I asked.
“Yeah, a boy.” Catch whooped behind her, planting a kiss on the side of his old lady’s face. “Hey, Lenore.”
“Hey, Catch.”
“So.” Catch licked his lips, his eyes racing from me to Finger and back again. “You guys good?”
Nina snorted, elbowing her old man in the belly.
“We’re good,” I said. “Real good.”
“Excellent.” He beamed a look at his President. He cared about his mentor a great deal, and I liked that. Finger only raised his sunglasses over his head, giving Catch a lift of his chin.
“Holy shit. It’s you?” came a strong female voice accompanied by the stomping of heavy boot heels.
A woman my age if not older with blond and brunette ombré hair and flashing eyes stood before me. I knew her. She was one of my very favorite customers. “Krystal?”
She grinned. “Lenore, Lenore, Lenore, Queen Bee of Undies and Naughty Goodness.”
Krystal shopped at my store on her birthday every year, splurging on herself. Bright, opinionated, snarky, strong-willed, take-no-shit Krystal.
“I didn’t know you were—”
“When in other club territory, I keep that shit to myself. Welcome to the Flames, babe.” She pulled me in a big hug. “I’m that troll’s old lady.” She gestured at the Flame who stood with Finger, winking at him. He blew her a kiss. “Drac VP” was patched on his colors.
“Whoa, babe.” Drac saluted me, his thick, dark eyebrows climbing his forehead, a grin splitting his pale face. “I’m one of your biggest fans.”
Finger punched him in the chest with the side of his fist. “Easy.”
Krystal put an arm through mine. “Thrilled to have you here, hon. Thrilled.”