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As he wound his way through even denser foliage, a path nonexistent, I wondered at first how he knew where he was going. Then I remembered that as a Ranger, he likely memorized several locations, forced to remember the coordinates at any given time. That’s how he found me. That much he’d relayed during one of our livelier conversations.
“Watch out. There could be snakes. Huge ones that are poisonous.”
I cocked my head, rolling my eyes even though he couldn’t see my expression. “I’m no dummy, soldier. I’m a veterinarian. Remember? I had various interests from birds to snakes, learning on my own what creatures inhabit several different countries. I happen to know for certain the only poisonous snake that could present an issue for humans is the yellow-bellied sea snake, and so far, I haven’t seen one of those. Snakes are also forbidden to be brought in, so I don’t expect to see a boa constrictor either.”
As he slowed down, now going less than five miles per hour, he gave me a mischievous look, acting as if he was pouting. “Remind me not to get into a trivia game with you.”
Laughing, I squeezed his arm. “You’d lose every time.”
“Then I’ll have to find something I can win.”
“Fat chance.”
He downshifted again, moving around a curve. When he pulled into a small clearing, I was awestruck, rising to my feet.
“Oh, my God.” There were few words to describe what I was seeing, the magnificent waterfall cascading over craggy rocks unlike anything I’d ever seen. As it splashed into the basin, I realized the water was the most vibrant cerulean blue and even more crystal clear than the ocean. While I’d seen several streams, the body of water was tremendous in size.
“This is a portion of Halulu Lake. When it’s the rainy season, it’s the largest body of water in the islands.”
“I can see why you love this so much.”
“Come on. Let’s go by the shore.” He climbed out, grabbing one of the towels and waiting until I followed him. The terrain was even rockier, the lake formed from volcanic activity. We were on the low side, the slopes becoming steeper on both sides every few feet.
As he took my hand, carefully leading me down a rocky knoll, I realized the sight had taken my breath away. He carefully placed the towel, smiling until I eased onto the soft cotton before crowding next to me.
He bent his knees, crossing his arms over them, peering out at the water. The waterfall was at least a hundred yards away, but the rumble from the power could be felt underneath me. I noticed he had a contemplative look on his face, never blinking as he stared at the water.
“I spent hours here every week, sometimes unmoving. It allowed me to find harmony, a place of comfort.”
His words were even, devoid of any emotion. “Perfect solitude.”
“Yes.”
“I love the island. I could see setting up a little practice here.”
He chuckled. “To heal injured cattle and sheep? I doubt that’s what you really want to do.”
“You never know. I had a class in big game animals.”
As he laughed openly, an intense comfort washed between us that was more powerful than the electricity we shared. This moment was about closeness and trust, respect and honesty. He’d allowed me into a portion of his world that he’d kept sacred only to himself.
“I imagine you can do anything you put your mind to,” he said without hesitation.
“That’s what I keep telling myself.”
He took a deep breath and for a few minutes, we sat quietly together, doing little more than enjoying the scenery. When he pulled me in front of him, I cradled my legs around his waist. The intensity in his expression was perplexing and as he lifted my hand, sliding my fingers down the length of his scar, I sensed he was ready to share certain aspects of his life.
“I like it when you touch me,” he said, his voice barely audible.
Remaining quiet, I took control, brushing the tip gently along one side then up the other, finally rising onto my knees so I could place gentle kisses along the ragged edge. His long eyelashes fluttered against my cheek, creating a ripple of both nervousness and desire. When I eased back, I rolled the same finger down the side of his neck to his arm, trailing it along the creative tattoo.
“What do they mean?” I asked, trying to keep my voice soft, comforting.
“Freedom.”
“From war?”
“From whatever cage someone was forced to place their life in,” he answered. “We all have them, whether created by circumstances beyond our control or emotional breaks that lock us away in our minds. They represent the reasons to search for something more.”
