Thursday evening: Ft. Peck Indian Reservation

Lindsay Vanderbilt tossed and turned in her bed. She looked at the LED clock, its bright red numbers cutting through the darkness like a beacon—it was just before midnight.  She’d been in bed for two hours and had still not gotten to sleep. The frogs and crickets were singing their evening songs.

Just as she drifted off she heard her bedroom door creaking. She sat up and looked toward the sound.

“Hello?” she called out, groggy and half-asleep.

There was no answer, but the half-moon in the clear night sky bled through her window revealing a silhouetted figure, tall and imposing. The figure was a Native American man. He seemed familiar. Although she could not make out his face, she saw the man’s long, straight hair.  He approached her purposefully. Lindsay gasped, pulling the covers up to her neck, using them as a protective shield.

The man sat on the bed. She still could not make his face out, but the light of the moon caught the corneas of his eyes, causing them to glisten. She listened to his breathing, deep and slow. He reached for her and for the first time she noticed his hand, an enormous, shadowy hand. His fingers glided across the blanket over her leg.

Her first instinct was to scream, but she didn’t.

“What do you want?” she asked.

He said nothing, just continued to glide his fingers over the blanket. He moved his fingers up higher on the blanket covering her. Lindsay gasped again.

She closed her eyes and sighed. It was nearly inaudible. She felt his fingers pull the blanket away from her body. He touched her breast.

Oh my god, I’m naked, she realized, wondering how her t-shirt and panties disappeared. Those thoughts flittered away as the enormous fingers gently caressed her shoulder, causing her to sigh once again.  The shadow's touch stirred sensations in her body. Her fear waned, replaced by longing.

She shifted her legs, feeling the wetness between them. She reached out, touching the large figure on his chest. His skin was hot and his muscles well-defined. She ran her fingers across the length of his arm as he continued to caress her, moving his hand from her shoulders down her arms. His touch caused an aching between her legs. He leaned his body into her and she slid both arms around his neck welcoming the silkiness of his long hair and the firm muscle tone of his shoulders.

He kissed her; his breath was hot and sweet. She kissed him back, opening her mouth to allow his tongue to enter. They locked in a passionate kiss. She pulled her right hand away from his neck and ran her tiny fingers down his chest.  His pectorals were rock-hard and scarred. She paused again to run her fingers across the scars as the kiss deepened.

The man placed his huge palm onto her petite hand and guided it, across the rippling muscles of his stomach and lower. She sighed louder when her fingers found their destination and she heard the shadow moan for the first time.

He broke off the kiss and stood, sliding his arms under her legs and back.  She could sense his tremendous strength as he lifted her effortlessly. He sat on the edge on the bed with her on his lap, kissing her mouth and neck, his strong hands caressing her back.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” she said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied.

“I’m a virgin,” she added.

“I know.”

“Take me. Take me now.”

“Lindsay.”

“What?”

“Lindsay... wake up.”

“Do what?”

“Lindsay, you’re dreaming,” said Neha Littlebird. “Wake up.”

Lindsay sat up, still half asleep, rubbing her eyes. She could see the beautiful Cheyenne woman standing in the doorway. The hall light behind her illuminated her silhouette.  She squinted at the bright light seeping in from the hall.

“Neha? What time is it?” she asked.

“It’s after midnight,” Neha replied. “I couldn’t sleep. I got up to make a cup of chamomile tea. I heard you moaning. Are you all right?”

Lindsay looked down and realized she was not naked. She was wearing a t-shirt and cotton pajama bottoms—it was a dream.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she expressed. “I was not sleeping well, either. I think I’ll join you for tea.  Go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

Neha smiled, nodded and left.

Lindsay’s entire body was damp with perspiration generated from the heat of the dream. When she pulled away the covers and looked at her pajama bottoms, she saw the telltale evidence of her dream.

She took in a deep breath and exhaled. It was the third time this month she had this dream and now it was intensifying. She pulled fresh underwear and clean pajama bottoms from her drawer and padded to the bathroom to freshen up. When she made her way to the kitchen, the kettle was whistling away.

“Have a seat,” Neha said. “It’s ready.”

“Thank you,” Lindsay answered, watching her pour the tea. Neha was tiny, even smaller than herself. Her silky jet-black hair flowed half-way down her back. She wore a long, sheer nightshirt that clung to her full, shapely breasts. Her smooth, dark legs would have made Halle Berry give a nod and a wink.

She was sweet and smart. She was the perfect match for...

“What were you dreaming about?” Neha asked, sitting a cup filled with tea in front of her.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you were moaning when I walked in on you. It sounded as though you dreamed you were having sex, and damn good sex, too.”

Lindsay’s face reddened, “I never remember my dreams,” she lied.

“Pity,” Neha said. “It sounded like one for the ages.”

“Lona didn't come home tonight, I noticed,” Lindsay said, trying to change the subject. Lona was Neha’s seventeen-year-old daughter.

“Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you,” Neha replied. “She took off today.  She’s visiting my sister in Utah.”

“Really? That was sudden. I spoke to her yesterday, and she said nothing about taking a trip.”

“Yeah, it was a last-minute thing.”

“Oh. So... have you heard from...?”

“I was wondering when you’d ask about him again,” Neha replied. She took a sip of tea. “He called me two days ago.”

Lindsay perked up, “He did? How’s he doing?”

“The same. He said nothing new,” she lied. “It was just chit-chat.”

Lindsay took a sip of tea, pretending the answer satisfied her. She waited another minute, trying to not be obvious.

“So... did he ask about me?” she asked.

“No,” Neha responded, flatly. Another lie. Lindsay sensed it.

Her eyes moisten, “He didn’t ask about me? He didn’t want to know how I was doing—nothing?”

Neha exhaled. “I’m sorry Lindsay. Must we go through this every time? He loves you and always will but he wants you to move on. He's convinced if he allows you to remain in his life, you will obsess with getting him free.  It’s not in his nature to allow it.”

Lindsay choked up, fighting off tears yet again, “He’s so full of shit.”

Neha smiled and used her fingertips to brush Lindsay’s hair behind her ear, “He is that, for certain. Lindsay, you're doing great work on the res. The rehabilitation center has already helped hundreds of Cheyenne, Sioux, Lakota and Dakota. We are doing so well, and it’s all because of you.”

Elaine “Vandy” Vanderbilt financed the drug rehabilitation facility now serving the Ft. Peck Reservation, but it was Lindsay who ran it day-to-day and made it a success. It was Lindsay who sought out and acquired the government funding to support the center. Thousands of drug addicts were cut off from their regular drug supply channel after Apollo and Hank Rattling Thunder went to prison.  The center provided services to addicts on the res for free and its early success had exceeded her expectations.

“I miss him so much,” Lindsay said.

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Neha said. “I do, too.”

Lindsay sipped her tea again. She sat down the cup, “I was having a... wet dream,” she confessed.

Neha raised her eyebrows. “Oh, my. With... him?”

She shrugged. Her face reddened in embarrassment, “I think so. I never see his face, but it’s him. It must be.”

“Is this the first time you’ve had this dream?”

She shook her head, “No. I've had it many times. The dreams started a few months ago, perhaps once every other month. It's picked up, perhaps twice a week, now. It’s always the same. In the dream I go to bed dressed in my nightclothes. He shows up and kisses me. When he pulls the covers away, I’m naked. He takes my hand and puts it on his...”

“TMI, Lindsay!” Neha interrupted. “I get the picture.”

“I’m so humiliated,” she said.

“You can’t control what you dream,” Neha said. “It’s not your fault.”

“But, it makes me feel dirty, like subconsciously, I must want...”

“Sweetheart, what you are doing here... it’s not healthy,” Neha said.

“What do you mean?”

“You wear one of his old t-shirts to bed,” she said, “It’s no wonder you’re dreaming about him.”

“The shirt comforts me,” Lindsay said.

Neha placed her hand on Lindsay’s, “This is your body’s way of telling you there is a huge void in your life. This obsession with Rainhorse needs to stop. You’re working seventy hours a week and have no personal life. It's time to meet friends, build other relationships.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t allow myself to relax or enjoy life while Jackson is rotting away in prison.”

“He doesn’t want that for you,” Neha insisted. “He wants you to live a full, happy life. It would crush him to think you are pining away and unhappy. Don’t allow his sacrifice to go to waste.”

“He’s not just saying it? You think he really wants me to back away.”

“I do.”

She nodded, forcing a smile, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I am.”

“Still...”

“I need you to try, Lindsay. Promise me.”

“I’ll try,” she said. “I promise.”

“Ok then, off to bed with you,” Neha said. “Remember, I am picking up Rainy’s nephew and his friend on Sunday.”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” she replied. “Why are they coming here again?”

“I’ve been thinking about putting in some new landscaping and having repairs done on the house.”

“Really? I’ve never heard you mention that before.”

“It’s been on my mind. Rainy’s nephew is a landscaper and handyman. He lives on the Northern Cheyenne Reservation, across the state. Work there has been scarce.”

“Do you know Red Feather well?”

“Yes, when I first met Rainy. Red was a boy, then. I haven’t seen him in years.  He’s married now... to a lawyer no less.”

“Great,” Lindsay said. “Can’t wait to meet him.”