The Lost Hearts (19 page)

Trevor ground his teeth, his eyes narrowing.  “Don’t put me with everybody else,” he said, his voice gruff.
Alexis hugged her legs tighter and turned her face from him. 

She slid to the ground, nestled sleepily against her blanket, giving Trevor her back.   She let her lids fall gratefully over her eye
s.  In the still she heard Trevor say, “I don’t think you’re silly, Red.  I think you deserve what you want.” 

Days had passed and Alexis stood at the edge of the clearing, remarking how much their campsite had come to resemble something of a permanent home.  Trevor coached Alexis from under the milkwood pine, and she sweated under the sun, carving sticks, stripping ribbons from fallen palm fronds to construct a thatched shelter, the wide, plated leaves catching the mists which rolled through the hills occasionally.  She smiled at her work, feeling more accomplished than ever.  She looked down at her body covered flimsily in a cotton under-dress, soiled with smudges of earth.  Her limbs had tanned as she worked in the sun, the hair on her arms and legs bleaching gold against the darkened hue of her skin.  She felt radiant despite the abyss between her and the material world of artificial beauty, cosmetics, and perfumes. 

The horses seemed
to revel in the lazy afternoons with nothing more to do than pace around the clearing’s perimeter and sample the abundant grass spraying the forest floor.  Trevor told her there was a stream if she followed the hillside north, and every morning she gathered the burlap-covered canteens and tread a path as she wielded the machete before her.  Happily she hummed as she bathed herself, washed the remaining clothes either she or Trevor could claim, and gathered water to boil and wash his wounds.

She w
as surprised to find how easily and cheerfully she accepted her role as provider.  She enjoyed the routine of the day, almost oblivious that it was nothing more than a pause from a life wholly unconnected to the Highlands of New Guinea, its symphonic wilderness, its quiet nights.  More than anything, she had become enamored with the new tenor of her relationship with Trevor.  Though she stifled the discomfiting feelings that pulled at her heartstrings when she thought of the man who’d seemed so disagreeable to her, she involuntarily lapped up his good humor, the appreciation in those deep black eyes when he looked at her now.

She looked for
ward to the nightfall when the sky turned salmon and they would burrow into the mounds of earth around the fire.  In the countless days since Trevor’s encounter with the jaguar, words had been easy, affectionate.  Perhaps it was the disarming nature of their circumstances, or that Trevor was detached from her previous life that made it easy for her to reveal the troubles and fears which had governed her mind.  And with each confession, Trevor seemed to meet her halfway, imparting stoic wisdom, or revealing the truth of his own loneliness.

One evening, as Alexis stoked the logs she had collected and dragged to the campsite, Trevor told her of his grandmother, Binda, who had raised him like her son.  Midway through the story, she heard the air whistle violently throu
gh his teeth, as he doubled forward in pain. 

Alexis leapt at him.  “Are you
alright?  What’s the matter?” she cried. 

“Nothing,” he seeth
ed through his clenched jaw.  “I keep forgetting about that one there.”  He let out an agonized grunt, let his head fall back against the tree trunk.    Kneeling beside him, Alexis peeled the blanket from his torso and saw that underneath the bandage on his oblique, a tiny band of blood began to seep through. 

“I should check to make sure it hasn’t split open.  Lie down,” she ordered firmly.  Trevor inched his body outward until he reclined against the cushion of the bundles stuffed behind him.  Alexis cut through the fabric, pressing a cold cloth aga
inst the sutured gash.  “It’s not bad,” she assured him.

Suddenly she noticed that he was breathing hard through his nose as her hands brushed over his flaming skin.  She
glanced at him nervously.  “Am I hurting you?” she asked.

But she saw in his eyes that it was not his wounds which inspired the tortured breathing, but her c
loseness.  The same silence flooded the few inches between them, palpable, uncomfortable, tense.  Trevor’s jaw flexed, his brow creased, and as Alexis started to recoil in the fear of her desire, she felt his hand close over her arm.  He swallowed slowly, his black wild eyes delving deep into her.  “Alexis,” he said, his voice thick.

Alexis was dizzy, and she felt a blazing heat erupt between her legs.  She was suddenly terrified at the intensity of her longing, but she was paralyzed in his grip.  Never breaking his gaze, he slid his other hand under her arm, and wincing with pain, lifted her against him.  Her body covered him, her breasts pressed hard against h
im, her lowered face just an inch from his.

“Alexis,” he murmured again. 

She shook her head in protest, but when she tried to pull away, found that her body was made of gum, the heat of her desire pulling her into him against her better judgment.  She could feel the breath from her nose on his chin, she could smell him, that sweet, earthy musk.  Her eyes rolled back in her head as she let it fill her lungs.  Trevor cupped her chin, slid his palm around her throat, coaxed her face upward.  She felt the bristles on his face scratch against her swollen lips until her mouth was level with his. 

She felt his mouth open, his full lips grazed against hers, his breath hot.  The he
at was pounding explosively now and her vision flashed white.  His hand gripped her firmly, pulled her into him until their mouths moved hungrily together, their tongues brushing over their lips.  It was as if there had only ever been her desire for Trevor, mounting over a lifetime, blasting desperately as she was sucked into its undertow.   She felt the urgent pulse of warmth pound thunderously against his thigh which rose and ground between her thighs.  She opened her mouth, a low, raspy moan catching in her throat. 

Through half-closed lids, Trevor took her in, his eyes hungrily sweeping over the velvet line of her neck, arched back as he pulled her hard against him.  He ran his fingers through
her scarlet waves, coiled them into his fist, and held her firmly as he let his face press into her throat, his mouth open as he tasted the salt of her skin.  He slid his hand down the nape of her neck, fingering the tiny buttons which plunged down her back.  One by one he unclasped them, holding her steady as she panted above him.  He felt her warmth against him, and when he looked into her heavy-lidded eyes, felt the unbearable hardness of himself rise against the slope of her leg. 

He covered her mouth with his, his mind spinning black, his heart wrenching violently against his chest.  He pulled at the thin cotton fabric, watched it slide over the sun-kissed silk of her shoulders.  Alexis pulled back, her face torn between abandon and fear.  She hissed through her
nose, sucking wildly at the air as he cupped the fullness of her breast in his hand.  In his mind, he imagined hiking up the skirt of her dress, pulling her over him, and sinking into her in one blinding movement.  When he leaned into her, he found that she was resisting, crossing her hands over her breasts.  “No, no,” she was saying, her eyes blinking out of the trance.

“What is it?” he heaved, disbelieving her resistance.  “Come here,” he said softly, the pad of his calloused thumb grazing her chin, his fingers tracing the agonizingly beautiful line of her collarbone.

Alexis tumbled backward, her hair spilling around her like dark, luscious vines.  She hunched back, the ground clawing into the soft pads of her palms as she writhed, catching her breath.  Trevor leaned forward, his hand outstretched, panting and confused.  “I want you, Alexis.” he whispered, the words a betrayal of something more than carnal desire.  They were a confession, and it sent her mind spinning.

She sat there dumbly, watching Trevor in the shadows, his body slumping against the tree.  More than anything she wanted to return to him, to feel his body over her, to bury her face against the warmth of his neck.  But the tempest of her fears swept through her heart, and like a frightened child, she sprung from the ground, and left him as she fled through the sooty forest’s web.

Chapter
Sixteen

In the leafy branches high above them a bird whistled, its shrill call firing in quick succession.  Trevor stirred, light filtering intrusively through his fluttering lids.  His mouth was parched, and he slid his raw, dry tongue over his lips, groaning through his groggy stupor.  He saw Alexis lying in a ball, her back to him, and in a flash he remembered the night before, how near he had come to begging for her closeness.  He shot a scathing look at her backside, growling low with scorn.  Buried in the seething pit of his anger was a wound more anguished than any of those he wore on his skin, and he wished to spring from his invalid slump against the tree, sling himself over his horse, and ride away from her forever.

Instead he lifted himself onto his haunches, residual pain wailing from the blackened scars that had healed more quickly than he could have hoped.  With slow, burning effort, he began to sift through the camp, tying their supplies into neat bundles, fastening them to the workhors
e.  Alexis shifted drowsily, murmured as she rose, rubbing her eyes as they adjusted to the amber light of morning.  “What are you doing?” she asked, the words scratching in her throat.

Trevor ignored her, his face pulled menaci
ngly into a scowl.  She cringed and lowered her gaze, staring helplessly at the ants marching purposefully over mountains of soil.  She had been silly to forget the brooding hateful storm of his eyes, and she rubbed her temples now, as though to massage out the memory of the previous night, of how everything had suddenly changed.  She neared him, his arms flexing as he cinched the leather straps snug around the barrel of the horse’s belly.  “Trevor,” she said again.  “Are we leaving?  Do you feel well enough to ride?”

Trevor snapped his head at her, his eyes flaming.  “
Well enough,” he lied through a growl.

In silence, they broke the camp until the only evidence of their dwelling was the thatched shelter she had built around Trevor.  Hot tears welled in her eyes when she saw him bear down on it, machete held high.  He hacked at the wooden strips with fury, his face seized in pain from the violence with which he annihilated the monument of their happy time together.  When he finished, his sides flaring from the effort, he saw that she watched him, her eyes wide, mouth parted in disbelief. 

“What?” he spat venomously.

Her chin quivered, a well of regret gushing in her throat.  “Trevor, please,” she pleaded. 

Trevor sneered, throwing his head back.  “Please what?”

“Can’t we talk about this
?”

“You women,” he scoffed, a cruel sneer disfiguring the handsome symmetry of
his features. “You always want to talk.  What’s there to talk about?”

Alexis narrowed her eyes.  This again, she thought.  “I don’t know why I bother,” she grumbled under her breath. 

Trevor reeled back a moment.  Then he rushed her, lowering his face to hers.  His eyes were spitting fire pits, and Alexis recoiled, her heart thumping in her chest.  She had never seen him like this, such explosive rage directed at her.  “Bother?” he cackled, his voice splintering like daggers.  “Don’t worry about me.”  He spun around, calling out wildly into the clearing.  “I’m sorry for you, woman, if you thought that meant anything.”

Alexis turned her back to him.  She wouldn’t let him poison her.  She grabbed the satchel which held her few remaining garments and dressed awkwardly in the brush, donning the stiff jeans she had tossed aside during her days as doctor.  She tucked the short-sleeved cotton shirt under her waistline, slipped on her leather boots now dusty and crusted with mud.  She peered
around the wide body of a tree trunk, her hands grasping its rough bark. 

Trevor stood at the center of the clearing, his face shadowed beneath his hat.  Despite screaming reluctance, she pushed herself from behind the sanctuary of the forest, and wordlessly they mounted their horses.  Claiming her usual spot at the rear of the miniature caravan, she cast a woeful look at the shady nook of their camp and bid farewell to the peace of heart she’d now convinced herself was nothing more than the skeleton of their dwelling scattered lifelessly across the earth.

As they climbed and twisted further i
nto the thick maze of tall trees, Alexis left the task of trailing Trevor’s lead to her horse.  She was a mere passenger now, lost in the perturbing questions of what had transpired.  Why had she stopped Trevor?  She had wanted him, just as he had wanted her.  She had burned for him, and yet she’d pulled away when every atom of her being compelled her to fall against his tender embrace.  And why was Trevor so angry?  Every time she reached the end of these questions, she rewound again, yielding nothing but an inscrutable nebula of confused thoughts and emotions.

Of one thing, she was sure.  In the moment that she had felt the
sweeping panic wrench her from his arms, she saw in a flash that they were acting out the wishes of the heart.  But what could she want with Trevor?  What could he want with her?  It was so clearly unlikely, and yet it seemed the natural order of the cosmos.  What could either of them expect to come of it?

Her eyes swept across Trevor’s back.  She wondered if they were joined in thought, if he too was sorting out the implications of their brief encounter.   Sighing forlornly, she noticed that he rode stiffly in his seat, as though he braced himself against the excruciating movements of the horse.  She wished desperately that she could help him, at least offer him words of comfort, return to the days when she gave and he accepted with appreciation and humility.  But she knew the sound of her voice would only give him the traction he needed to lash her, to put he
r in her place.

***

“We should reach the village in a day’s time,” Trevor informed her coldly one night after a day of mutual scathing remarks.  He hadn’t traveled this far west, he explained, and had never heard of the village she had marked on the maps Lawrence and Alexis had drawn with the help of field researchers.  In the morning, he would leave her at the camp, explore the area and confirm its location. 

“Will you be okay by yourself?”  She couldn’t help askin
g, her concern for his wellbeing trumping any pride or anger. 

Tr
evor snickered and shook his head.  “Look, if you wanted to run the show, you shouldn’t have hired me.  I’d be happy to leave you here with your expert knowledge.  Is that what you want?”

Alexis’ shoulders tensed as a bolt of indignation flashed through her. 
Let it go
, she told herself.  “And what about Lewis?”

Trevor snorted.  “Keen to get rid of me?”

She couldn’t stifle the urge to roll her eyes.  “I didn’t hire him,” she reminded him flatly.

“Lewis
might already be there.  Maybe you two will hit it off better than we did.”  He whipped her with those black eyes.

“You’re such a Neanderthal,” she bridled.

When she awoke the next morning, she saw that Trevor had folded his bedroll.  He was gone again, and despite the gnawing recollection of the last time she’d woken to his absence,
Alexis felt a wave of cool relief.  She convinced herself that she was better off without him.  He was a louse, using her for nothing more than financial gain.  She told herself that she was merely a dollar sign to him, and nothing more than a pathetic object of his lust.  Why, then, could she not shake the need to be near him?

She coerced her mind to focus on the milestone she had reached.  After a seemingly endless journey, she was one day shy of uncovering ground-breaking clues to her father’s lifelong research.  She knew she should feel intoxicated by its closeness, that she should be chomping at the bit to reach the
village.  But when she imagined herself and Trevor surrounded by people, her spirits wilted at the idea that the intimacy they had experienced would be diluted by the distractions of her work. 

At this she wagged her head in self-contempt.  He was underneath her sk
in, making every cell clamor with need. She tried to drown him in the files she retrieved from her briefcase, in the long-winded, depressed letter stuffed with false enthusiasm she composed to her father.  She flitted about the forest floor, setting up the lone tent, carving a pit for the fire.  She snacked mindlessly on the dwindling supply of crackers, pressing the crumbs absently with her index finger. 

When Trevor returned, he ignored her, dismounting the horse arthritically, and wet its wide haunches with water from a large leather pouch. She waited for him to say something, but he kept his back to her. 

“Well?” she asked finally, watching as he lowered himself at the fire’s side, his sour face illuminated in the glow. 

“It’s there,” he grunted.  “About three hours from here.  We’ll break camp first thing.”

Alexis nodded.  “Good,” she said.  “And you?  How are you feeling?”

“D
on’t worry about me, I told you,” he said, his voice prickly.

Alexis felt her blood boil against the crown of her head.  “Don’t be stupid, Trevor.”

He was squatting by the fire when she said it, poking the blazing wedges of dried wood with a strong, gnarled stick.  He let it drop to the ground, his back expanding in ire.  He ran his fingers through his hair, the locks pulling compliantly from his eyes and he raised his face to her with a slowness that made her own heated anger congeal into fright.

“Stupid?”  His voice was a terrifying rumble.  “Well, if the world-renowned Dr. Scott says it, it must be so.”

“I didn’t mean it that way –“

“I know how you meant it.”  Now he stood up completely, towering above her.  She couldn’t bear to look him in the eye.  After a moment of agonizing silence, he said, “I just think it’s funny, is all,” his voice twisted sardonically.  “You think you’re so smart, Red.  You think because you’ve read a few books, gone to a fancy school that you’re better.  But you’re a fraud,” he spat.  “You’d be lost here…no, you
are
lost here.  You’re just the person they sent to take notes, to go back to “civilization” and pat yourself on the back that you pissed on the island before anyone else did.  You were right, Red,” he said, finally taking a breath.  “I do think you’re silly.  You’re a silly woman who ought to go back to Boston, marry your prince, and play wife.  You’d be much better at it than any of this.”

Alexis’ spirit stretched between bitter venom and crippling disappointment.  All at once she felt his heart’s wrath pour on her, and she looked up at him helplessly.  The fire swathed her face in l
ight, catching the tears welling at her lids.  She felt her chin rise and tremble, her lips parting as she tried to catch her breath. 
How could he?

Trevor’s heart swelled in his chest, and for a split second he felt it burst as he saw the tears gather in her eyes.  The soulful allure of this small, flaming haired creature had aroused in him a longing he had long entombed, and he would be damned to hell if he was to admit it.  She had turned from him, made her feelings clear when he had exposed himself only to find that she pushed away, and he would whip her until he couldn’t remember the poignant loveliness of her touch, or the softness of her gaze.

“What’s this?” he mocked her.  “You’re crying?  How original.”

Alexis’ shoulders pitched as she fought to stifle the sobs surging mutinously from her gut.  “How can you be so cruel?”  Her head sank into her palms.  “I don’t understand…we were so…you were so kind to me…”

Like a bullfighter, he saw the opportunity to slay the weakened prey, and with a sadistic sneer, he plunged the sword into the fragile softness of her vulnerability.  He let out a howl of laughter, “Oh!  I get it!”  He slapped his thigh in comic hilarity.  “You actually think that I give a damn?  Foolish, foolish woman.”  He shook his head theatrically, tsk-tsked as he wagged his finger.  “The only difference between you and any other woman I’ve had, and believe me, I’ve had my fair share, is that you were harder to crack.”

Her mind cringed at the thought of giving him the pleasure of seeing her suffer with this announcement, but her sadness was beyond control and she let out a long, helpless wail, her voice splitting with heartbreak.  As though possessed by a maniacal spirit, Alexis lunged from the log, her bloodless fists balls of white, and she assailed him in the electric blindness of her rage.  She felt her knuckles pummel his chest, her hair flying wildly around her. 

She was coming at him so quickly, her arms flailing and striking as indiscriminately as a drunk man in a bar fight.  He lifted his arms, shielding himself from her onslaught until he seized his moment and grabbed the smallness of her wrists in his palms.  She thrashed rabidly against him, and he saw in her eyes that he had gone too far.  He knew that she could not un-see the burning script of those savage falsehoods, and his heart clawed into his throat with remorse. 

And then he gathered her in his arms, her frame tiny and feral as she writhed, her mouth screaming into the barrel of his chest.  He cradled her head against him until he could feel his heart pounding soulfully against her crimson cheek.  She wrenched away, raising her hand to slap his face.  He accepted it in submission, and she buckled forward as her hand slid from his stinging skin. 

“Alexis,” he croaked.

He swept her up and she fell against him helplessly like a rag doll as he lowered their bodies to the ground atop the woolen pad of her bedroll.  An instant searing torch flared inside, every inch of his skin clamoring to feel her touch.  He let her head fall back, saw that her face glistened wet, and caressed the lovely rise of her cheekbone with his chin.