Page 59 of Wanted

“What?” I have to ask her to repeat because I’m not sure I’ve read her lips correctly.

“With you? I’d like to go to the river with you. Unless, you want to be alone.” She holds up her hand and shakes her head. “No, what was I thinking? You said you needed to wash up, which probably means…”

Her words trail off but her eyes slowly move up and down the length of my body. Without another thought, I take her hand in mine and stride toward the door. With my free hand I grab a T-shirt and pair of jeans and towel I keep on the shelf by the front door.

I stop long enough to allow Emery to slip into the pair of shoes she keeps by the door and then we head to the river.

It’s only about a five-minute walk from my house since I’m positioned a bit of a ways away from the center of our commune.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” Emery says as I release her hand by the bank of the river.

A smile I can’t help springs free on my lips. “If you were a bother, I wouldn’t have brought you. Besides…” I pause as I lift my shirt over my head.

“I like having you around,” I admit.

Emery’s eyebrows raise for a beat before a smile touches her lips. “I enjoy being around you,” she says as I stare at her lips.

“I don’t know what’s come over me the past few days with all of the sleeping and eating, though. I wonder if Dr. Drake will write me the prescription for my iron pills. It’s been over a week now since I’ve had them. That may be why I’ve been so tired and hungry lately.”

She looks at me with a lifted eyebrow as if to ask my opinion.

I withhold my true thoughts.

“Could be,” I say.

A moment of stillness lingers between us. Emery looks out at the crystal clear water of the river. From her profile I see a smile crest on her beautiful face.

“I’d love to wash up here every day,” she says, looking back at me.

“I do,” I reply without thinking.

Her forehead wrinkles in confusion. “You do? I thought you shower at the house.”

Since she’s come to stay with me, I shower at home most days. It’s because ever since she’s come to stay with me, I don’t mind being inside so much.

“I use both.”

I move away from her, going to the large boulder I typically sit on. Beside it, is my tin where I keep a bar of soap and a bar of shampoo, both made by one of our pack members.

Emery watches me as I strip out of my jeans, down to my boxers. She remains silent as she watches me but the moment I take a step toward the river, she holds out an arm.

“Are you going to wash your hair?” Her gaze roams over the hair that hangs over my shoulders.

I nod.

“Can I?”

My head juts back in surprise. “What?”

I think she’s going to negate what she just asked. She surprises me, though, when she asks again.

“Ms. Elsie was telling me that the Apache hair care is very important. She said, you all used to have hair cutting ceremonies once a year in the spring to usher in the new weather. But otherwise, it was forbidden to cut your hair.”

I nod, knowing the history of the importance of our hair.

“I mean, it’s probably just the anthropologist in me, but… can I wash your hair?”

The only reason I made her ask a second time was because I was certain she blurted it out without thinking. But that’s not the case at all.