Jen's Legacy.

Badger’s Crossing had been named after one of the early explorers who had managed to get across the river at that point over a hundred years before.

It was an easy overnight stop for all of the rafters who came down the river. The crossing itself, was a gently sloping area of wind-blown sand, and rocks and was accessible from a distant road with four-wheelers, or with rugged all-wheel-drive vehicles with high, ground-clearance, but they still took a risk doing it, especially after a heavy rainstorm had moved through, and re-sculpted the trail.

Supplies for the soon-to-be arriving rafting parties, were brought in early on the day the rafts were due; which had been the previous Monday for that last party. Re-supply was by a pair of small four-wheelers hauling trailers of supplies behind them. There had to be two of them so that they could winch each other out of difficulties. They also made repairs to the trail as they travelled it.

For those rare occasions, maybe once every two or three years, when those vehicles had not been able to make that trip to provide supplies, there was a cache of emergency foods; dehydrated items, dried goods, cans of things that the rafting parties could fall back on and that were changed out regularly.

What the rafting parties didn’t use of those fresh supplies, was hauled out the next day, or the one following that, provided the weather had not washed out some of the track, though the storm of last night would have made it unlikely that the re-supply party would have been able to come through just yet.

After those storms, it could be a couple of days before anyone could get in to that location. Until they could repair the access trail to re-supply, each rafting party would need to cater to itself from the emergency supplies all rafts carried, supplementing them from those supplies left at Badger’s Crossing for them.

Royce was strong and could have carried her all day if he had to. She was the one concerned for him now, rather than for herself, and was of two minds about being rescued. She did not want a rescue to happen too soon, considering the progress they had made with each other. What was happening between them should not be interrupted, if at all, for at least a few more days... or for weeks... or for ever.

When they got down to where the rafts had tied up for the night on the previous Monday, there were few traces that anyone had recently camped there after the storm had moved through.

The previous storms might also have stopped the rafters successfully contacting the outside world from Marsden; the next stop down-river, but last night, or today (if the weather had held them from proceeding), was the day they would get to the place on the river where they would pull out at the end of their trip, and there would be others waiting for them to move the rafts back upriver for the next party to come down.

They should have been able to alert someone about what had happened by now, but it was not certain that rescue parties could get going on such short notice, depending upon when they first learned of the accident, and the weather, so either today or tomorrow would see things begin to move.

Royce waded through some of the low scrub-growth that managed to get a toehold in the sand, letting Claire down from his shoulders by simply sitting down, cross-legged, in a larger open area of sand as he held her hands to pull her forward to stop her falling back off him, and let her dismount, as he moved his hold to her leg to steady her, looking up at her as she held onto him.

She knew exactly how he was feeling by the look on his face.

After shrugging out of his pack, they both laid back in the warm sand together as Royce stretched his tired muscles, then rolled over to rest his arm over her, moving her shirt aside out of his way, and kissed her everywhere he could reach, then looked into her eyes.

“How do your feet feel?”

The hell with her feet! Was that all he was thinking of after that delightful little assault?

She wanted a different and more focused kind of attention, but he was concerned for her, so she would go along with him for the moment.

“Not so bad.” She was trying to downplay the discomfort.

He moved down to her feet and undid her sneakers, peeling off her socks as he lifted her feet to see the damage.

Everything seemed to be as it had been that morning, with no new blisters, or anything he needed to be concerned about, but he should change those band-aids.

She watched his face, knowing exactly where he was also looking at her; open for him to admire and touch, and sensed what he was feeling.

“Let your feet breathe, but don’t try to walk around or do anything.”

No way would she try to walk without some protection over her feet.

She leaned back on her arms, her shirt opening up from her, not hiding anything of her entire body, still looking at his face, seeing the developing flush upon it with her open invitation. She was able to see that his ears were burning at what she was letting him see, knowing how it was affecting him and wondering how long he would be able to resist her.

“Royce?” She spoke very softly, startling him, but not easily distracting him.

He liked her questions that always seemed to start with his name.

“We can make love now if you like. I can see... and I know that you want to.”

She didn’t wait to see what he would say, knowing how he would respond--a mere helpless man faced with a determined woman-- and helpless to refuse her offering herself to him like this. She peeled off her shirt then began on his clothes, pushing them away from him and down his legs as he groaned and moved over her.

He’d thought she’d never ask.

When they laid back from each other several minutes later, catching their breath again, they laughed.

“We are leaving more evidence now, Royce, for those trackers to find.” She sat up, putting her legs apart to see, and watched in amazement at what she could see of him leaking from her into the sand. He watched her too, always curious, always wanting to see, and to touch.

He became serious, reaching out to place his hand lightly on her middle as though afraid of hurting her. “I love you, Claire Jeannine Prescott.”

She smiled at him. “I know, Royce, just as much as I love you. And thank you.” She thought for a few moments as she laid back, pushing her hands under her head, making her breasts stand out for him to admire. It was all calculatingly done.

“A week ago, I was just another naïve college girl, uncertain of her way in life, not sure what I wanted; not sure of anything; not seeing a future I could buy into. Now, I know exactly what I want; to love, and to be loved by you. Nothing else.”

He changed his position to kiss her on her breasts and then on her naval as though to thank her.

“Does it always get better, Royce, with each time becoming better than the one before?”

“Always.” He was the authority on love-making.

“The more familiar we become with each other, and the more we are able to relax, with no hidden surprises, the more pleasurable it becomes. The only limit to us, and how we make love is in ourselves and in our imaginations.

“However…” There would always be a qualifier. “It sometimes takes a long time to learn about the other person; what they are most comfortable with and how to get the most out of loving; though men are different and more easily satisfied. We are driven differently. Not much can put us off once we get started down that path.”

She had already discovered that. They did not have so far to go to learn all about each other.

“One simple thing is all that interests us, once we find that one woman that we want in our lives forever. She should be beautiful—as you are—(though all women were beautiful in their own way) not too shy nor too aggressive; though aggression is sometimes called for”--he remembered how she had so cleverly approached him about that rash on Tuesday evening-- “and sometimes shyness works really well too.”

She smiled at the way he was stumbling to explain something that needed no explaining; contradicting himself with every other thought.

“I guess I just talked myself into being wrong about everything. Nothing, is simple about making love, or being in love. It is all, delightful insanity, defying all rational explanation. What I do know is that I will never tire of making love to you anytime you want me to.”

“The offer goes both ways, Royce, anytime you want to make love to me. I knew nothing of any of this two days ago; of love, or of these feelings. I couldn’t ever have imagined feeling this way, or that I would see a naked man tending to me, aroused just for me… or my understanding what it meant. Or letting one take all of my clothes off without fighting. I never imagined I would ever dare to touch you so boldly, as I did, or to be so brash as to ask you to make love to me. I so desperately wanted you to touch me, to make love to me, to have you go into my body as you just did again.” She sighed. “So much to learn, and I am learning.”

He moved over her again and returned easily to where he had just been in her without any hesitation or difficulty.

She laid back, welcoming him into her and reached up to touch his head. It was too soon for a repeat of what he had just done to her, so she talked, feeling him moving upon her, getting comfortable, prepared to wait until he revived.

“Can you feel that shaking of the ground, Royce, that low rumble, as if the earth is speaking to you; telling you something.”

His eyes twinkled at her as he paused, and then pushed gently, going deeper into her. The earth was telling him something else altogether.

“I’m like that all of the time when I’m close to you. It’s called being in love.”

She gurgled, liking that answer. “It’s my ancestors... and yours too, turning over in their graves at this entirely immoral woman, seducing the man who saved her life. I am a blot upon their escutcheon... their unblemished dynasty; the descendant who has now upset their once-peaceful rest.”

But doing it for a very good reason; to protect another dynasty: her own and Royce’s. And Jen’s.

He stroked her head, kissing her, liking things exactly where he was. They could spend the next few hours here like this, together, but he also knew that they shouldn’t. Others could soon come.

He slowly backed from her, leaving her reluctantly and with a sigh, sitting up from her.

“I would like to stay here like this with you, all day, but we should be cautious. We don’t know when others will come through here to look for you.”

That, was all they would need; some unexpected rescue team to find them like this, locked in each other’s naked embrace. They would carry him down to the river and throw him in.