Grace and the Guiltless

Chapter 20

Alone in her kuugh’a, Grace lay curled under the buffalo skin. She smoothed her hands across it, dreaming of the way Joe had stroked her hair. She ran a finger over her lips again, soft as the caress of a butterfly. Would this be what it felt like to have Joe’s lips touch hers? Grace drifted off to sleep with thoughts of him holding her close.

The next morning when Grace got up, the first person she saw was Joe. He glanced at her but didn’t say a word. He just turned and headed down to the stream.

Grace’s cheeks burned. Maybe he’d realized last night that kissing her would be a big mistake. After all, he had pulled away so quickly, and this morning he couldn’t turn his back on her quickly enough.

It seemed as if their easy companionship was gone, and instead, awkwardness was driving a wedge between them. Part of Grace wished none of that had ever happened last night, so they could go back to their easy, joking relationship. But the other part of her desperately wanted to know what that kiss would have been like.

It doesn’t matter, she told herself. She had decided. Today was her last day there.

But she couldn’t help staring at Joe’s retreating figure, admiring the muscles rippling in his back, his confident stance, his —

“Grace?” Sequoyah’s soft voice behind her made her jump.

Grace turned around quickly. “You scared me!” She tried to still the rapid beating of her heart.

Sequoyah looked apologetic. “Oh, I am much sorry.” Then her look of sorrow turned to a look of curiosity. “You and Joe did not talk?” she asked, glancing toward the direction he had gone.

Grace frowned. She didn’t want to get into a conversation about Joe. She didn’t want to think about him — she needed to concentrate on preparing for her journey away from here.

Away from him.

But before she could say a word, Sequoyah clutched her arm. “Do not fight with Joe. He’s a good man.”

That got Grace right in the gut.

“We aren’t fighting. We’re —” But Grace had no words to describe the awkwardness that had come between them.

Sequoyah laughed. “You not fight. You want to . . . kiss?”

“Absolutely not.” Grace made her words as firm as her resolve not to think of Joe again with longing.

But Sequoyah’s expression became dreamy. “I want to kiss Dahana.” She sighed deeply. “I dream of what it will feel like. My friend Sky say it is like floating in the clouds.”

When Grace didn’t respond, she said, “Maybe you know this feeling already?”

“No!” Grace burst out, but then her voice softened. “I . . . I wish I did.”

Then before she knew what was happening, the story of last night and her pain flowed out.

Sequoyah listened intently. Perhaps she only understood half of what Grace was saying, because the words tumbled over themselves in her haste to get them out of her mind. She poured out her frustration and her anger, and the uncertainty and humiliation of what had happened.

“Tell Joe,” Sequoyah suggested. “You could kiss him.”

Grace shook her head. “I could never do that.”

“It is not good to hold in feelings. Not anger. Not love.” She nodded toward a shriveled plant. “You hold bad feelings in here.” Sequoyah patted her chest. “That is what happens to you.”