Thank you for the fantastic comments! I have made Adam suffer but maybe, just maybe, there's a bit of light at the end of the tunnel…

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Adam found himself sitting in the same spot on the creek bank where he had once before found relief against the turmoil of his raging mind. He sat staring over the fast flowing creek. A strip of amber sky hovered over the western horizon as if oppressed by the weight of cloud that hung above it. Adam once more felt in control of his grief. But he knew this was because it was being kept at bay by his anger. As far as he was concerned he had just spent hours wallowing in self-pity on the journey back from the trading post, a weak emotion he'd thought he'd put behind him. And this realisation made him angry. Angry with himself for letting the grief overtake him once more, angry with the men who had done this to him, angry with the world full stop. He didn't notice the lowering sun as it drifted below the cloud turning the very air golden and lengthening the shadows across the land. Adam squinted and looked away as the molten fire of the setting sun blinded him and he was momentarily distracted by the calls of a flock of migrating geese as they flew overhead.

Adam's mind was so far away that he physically jumped when someone sat down beside him. It was Wanekia. She stared at the sunset, her skin lit up by the resplendent sun as it dropped ever lower towards the horizon. Adam's anger however made him spiteful, and forgetful of his previous day's wish to know her better.

"Why are you here, Wanekia? Have you come to pity the poor white man as he cries alone in this...," he paused and looked around him, "…magnificent setting."

If Wanekia heard his sarcasm she didn't react to it. "I saw you return with Cameahwait. Something has happened. I wanted to..."

Adam rounded on her. "You wanted to see whether white men cried in the same way, to see whether we're like you, capable of being hurt and feeling sorrow?"

Wanekia sighed as she lowered her eyes, and gathering her skirt around her knees she prepared to rise to her feet. "I know you cry, Adam, you cried many tears when you were sick." She stood up next to him.

Adam suddenly felt ashamed. He'd lashed out at her for no reason. He grabbed her hand. "Wanekia, I'm sorry, I…" He looked away briefly, searching for the right words. "I'm sorry," he said again. Wanekia stayed on her feet for a few moments, Adam's hand tightly curled around hers, before sitting back down. Adam lightened his grip but didn't let go, staring at her fingers as they rested lightly in his palm. For a few moments nothing was said until Adam broke the silence.

"I used to believe that I could easily live apart from my family. We lived in the same house, worked together, played together. We were in each other's pockets." Adam's mouth lifted in a half smile. "Sometimes a little too much." Adam gazed out towards the dying sun. "And there was always this desire within me, a craving, to go other places, experience life away from the Ponderosa." He glanced at Wanekia. "I went to college, you know, back east. I was away for four years and it was one of the greatest things I ever did. I met new people, made some great friends. I learned things I'd never have been able to back home. And I didn't see my family for months on end, and I was okay with that. It didn't bother me too much. And even after four years away, the wanderlust was still there, this desire to see faraway places. Africa to see the lions, the pyramids, the Colosseum in Rome, Paris in springtime." His mouth quirked again as his eyes fell to Wanekia's fingers in his hand. He didn't know whether she could follow what he was saying; he only knew that he had a need to unburden himself of his thoughts.

"But you know what, I now realise that I was able to live without my father and my brothers because, deep down, I carried them with me. We may not have been in the same city or territory but wherever I went, they went. Because they were here." He placed a fist over his heart. "I was part of them just as they were a part of me. And when I left, I took them with me." Adam's voice started to shake as he fought to contain the tears which threatened to break free. "But I didn't know that until now. I took them for granted. But now they're gone, and I feel like a huge chunk of me is gone too. I feel empty without them." Adam could feel his eyes growing hot. "God, Wanekia, I miss them!"

And then she was on her knees, with her arms around his head pulling him to her. She circled her arms around his back as his head fell to her shoulder. The tears were brief, squeezed out of his eyes that he kept tightly shut. After a few moments he lifted his head and looked at the woman in front of him, wiping his eyes with the back of one hand. An embarrassed laugh escaped him. "Guess you got to see a white man cry after all. Goddamn tears."

Wanekia moved her hands to his face and caught his eyes within her gaze. She wiped away the wetness around his eyes with her thumbs, letting her hands linger on the sides of his face. Their eyes stayed locked together for a few seconds and then she moved closer and was lightly pressing her lips against his. When he didn't move away she kissed him again. For a few seconds Adam had toyed with responding. He knew his feelings for this woman were growing, but her kiss, at this time, somehow seemed… amiss. He briefly placed his hands on her arms but then thought better of it and bowed his head, breaking away from her kiss. She sat back on her heels, reluctantly letting her hands drift from his face. They fell to his chest where she focussed her eyes, a look of confusion playing across her features. Adam put his hand on her cheek, trying to draw her eyes upward.

"I'm sorry, Wanekia, but, I don't want this… like this. You're here because you feel sorry for me. I like you, God, you have no idea how much, but…"

Adam was stopped in his tracks when Wanekia looked up at him, and pushed her hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm.

"You are sad, Adam. I want to take the sadness away." She paused, not knowing how to say what was burning her inside. "And…" She stopped again, took a deep breath and fixing her eyes again on his chest, her words rushed out of her. "You are the face I see when I awake, and the face I look for when I work, and when we eat, and I see you when I look at the stars, and I see you last thing at night before I close my eyes to sleep." She picked up his hand and placed it over her heart, looking back up into his eyes. "You are… here."

Adam recalled all the times during past days when he'd looked up and she'd been there within his view. He'd attributed it to his constant searching for her, the need to see where she was and what she was doing. He wondered now whether she had been purposely looking for him too. And he remembered the flash of desire he had seen in her eyes just the previous night. And the teasing conversation by the creek. Adam knew then that her kiss was more than one of consolation; he could read the desire in her eyes. There was no pity in her expression, just a deep longing. Ever so slowly, Wanekia drew herself closer to him, hesitant that he would reject her again, but this time he knew he wouldn't cast her away. He opened his lips to hers.

Their kiss was initially cautious, their mouths barely moving as their lips gently touched. But then as Adam felt his mind calm in the warmth of Wanekia's arms, the kiss became a longer caress as they began to discover each other's lips and mouths. Her fingers skimmed over the beard that covered his throat and cheeks. Adam ran the tips of his fingers over her jaw line, over her throat and neck, stroking the tender skin behind her ears and toying with the soft strands of hair that had escaped the confines of her braid.

The gentle touch of her hands and the soft caresses of her lips were drawing Adam back from the brink of despair, and he found himself wanting this woman to stay in his arms forever. He felt a new emotion starting to blossom within him: he started to feel hope. Hope in a future where he wasn't alone but could maybe, just maybe, experience life in a family again. He'd noticed how strong and united the families were within the village and it had dismayed him to think that he would never know that feeling of protection and security, and love, again. But as Wanekia shifted closer to his body, and wrapped her arms around his back, Adam recognised that, despite the tragedy that had made him want to curl up and stop breathing, Wanekia offered him salvation. And with that new thought in his mind, and as they slowly broke away from their kiss, Adam enfolded Wanekia in his arms, pressing her body to his and burying his face in the smooth curve where her shoulder met her neck.

They stayed locked together for several minutes, Wanekia's nearness and touch acting like a balm on Adam's troubled mind, erasing the memories of the day. And after they'd reluctantly pulled out of their embrace, they sat back on the bank of the creek, side by side, shoulders touching. Their skin glowed in the dying light of the sun's golden rays. But as the last vestiges of the sunset seared a staggering beauty across the evening sky, the majesty was lost on them. They were each too aware of the person at their side.

As the sun disappeared and the sky turned the colour of freshly cut watermelon, Wanekia stirred next to him. "I must go," she said simply.

Adam didn't want her to leave.

"I'll come back with you," he said and started to rise with her. But Wanekia stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, you stay. I cannot be seen with you like this. Not yet."

Adam knew that the Indian tribes had complex rules regarding the death of a loved one. Wanekia was still officially in mourning for her husband, and for her to be seen alone with another man at this time could bring shame on her and her family. He pulled her back down to her knees and gave her a last sweet lingering kiss. As he drew back he saw Wanekia smile for the first time since he'd arrived in the village. Her unconventional features were such that most people would consider her interesting to look at but not an out and out beauty. Adam, however, saw the most exquisite face looking back at him and now, when he saw her smile, he was taken aback by how her eyes flashed and her shy smile produced a pair of dimples much like Adam's own. His heart swelled as he realised that the burgeoning attraction he had felt for this woman had developed into something more significant.

She pulled out of his arms and stood. Then lowering her eyes, she adopted the mantle that she wore when she was around the other Ute, and walked quickly away back to the village.

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That night, alone in his lodge, Adam thought back over the day he'd just experienced. And he wondered at how, for the second time in a few short weeks, his life had been unexpectedly turned around in barely a few minutes.

As had become his normal practice, he had sat with Cameahwait's family for the evening meal. Wanekia had hovered nearby serving his helpings to him. But not a word was said, or glance exchanged. When she had handed him his bowl, she had kept her fingers where they couldn't accidently brush against his. Yet it had been all Adam could do to stop himself from grabbing her as she passed, pulling her down to his lap and pressing his lips against hers. He had been distracted knowing she was so close, and disjointedly entered into the conversations around him.

And when he had eventually been able to make his escape and return to his lodge, he had been startled to find a straight razor lying on his blanket. Cameahwait must have traded some of their precious pelts for it earlier in the day. He ran his finger over the blade. It needed to be honed before Adam could use it so he decided that he would make that his first task of the following day. He was overcome by the Ute's quiet, unspoken generosity, especially considering he'd nearly jeopardised the success of the trading party.

He lay on his furs and closed his eyes, his thoughts wandering to Wanekia. She had been the light in a very dark day. He was ashamed of how he had lost control at the trading post, an act that could have had dire consequences for his Ute benefactors. And he had wallowed in self-pity, as feelings of grief and sorrow and anger had flooded back to the forefront of his mind. But then, just as the anger was threatening to consume him once more, Wanekia and her touch alone had vanquished the emotions that lay simmering below the surface. Instead a new emotion had arisen, one he had not felt in a long time: she had given him hope; a vision of a future that suddenly didn't seem so dim.

As he lay there in the dark of his lodge he tried to sort out his feelings for her. He knew he had a deep affection for her. But was he in love? He wasn't sure. It seemed too soon. But as he recalled the touch of her hand on his chest, and her face so close he could feel her soft breath on his cheek, a smile played across his lips. And he felt anticipation, anticipation for the times ahead, of getting to know Wanekia better, of tasting her lips again, of holding her body close to his. He'd experienced more emotions than one person should rightly feel in a day. But for the first time in a long while, Adam felt optimistic about the new day to come. He would treat it as a new beginning.