Had I the heart to slide an arm beneath her,
Press her parting lips as her waist I gather slow,
Waking in amazement she could not but embrace me:
Then would she hold me and never let me go?
Shy as the squirrel and wayward as the swallow,
Swift as the swallow along the river's light
Circleting the surface to meet his mirror'd winglets,
Fleeter she seems in her stay than in her flight.
Shy as the squirrel that leaps among the pine-tops,
Wayward as the swallow overhead at set of sun,
She whom I love is hard to catch and conquer,
Hard, but O the glory of the winning were she won!
. . .
Fair as in image my seraph love appears
Borne to me by dreams when dawn is at my eyelids:
Fair as in the flesh she swims to me on tears.
· · ·
Could I find a place to be alone with heaven,
I would speak my heart out: heaven is my need.
George Meredith, "Love in the Valley"
Hilltop, Sutamasina, January 11, 1874
He kissed his bride. The deep blue silk of the canopy above them lifted gently, undulating in the mountain air. The gold threaded patterns of the fabric sparkled in the bright winter sunshine. Heath took Rivka in his arms and kissed her, and for a moment, it was just the two of them: just the kiss; just the smile in her eyes and the warmth of her body; just gratitude; just here, now, this.
Just a few minutes, but there was a lifetime in that kiss. A lifetime…
They were encompassed by family, friends, and an entire village, all ready to celebrate; the couple was, therefore, promptly interrupted. Hand in hand, they stepped out from under the chuppah. There was one more ritual to fulfill.
There came a quiet step behind them, and a soft, questioning whicker of a horse. Heath and Rivka shared a smile.
"Nachtmuzik," she whispered.
Unseen at a small distance away, Moshe lifted his bow and conjured up Mozart. The joyful melody pinwheeled through the bright California air, weaving over, under, and around the Miwok drums, rattles, and songs; it was a mélange of sound both novel and timeless.
They turned to see Nox, now saddled, bridled, and nicely outfitted for the trail. Heath's practiced eye took in the expertly stowed bedroll, tarp tent, canteen and full saddlebags, as well as his rifle in one scabbard and his longbow in the other. He could see the work of Audra's deft hand in the packing. That assessment took but a second; his attention was held by the young redheaded warrior who stood at the horse's head.
"Huntress," he greeted her warmly, his voice softened by respect and deep affection.
"Uncle Heath," she responded. "Aunt Rivka. Congratulations."
Heath's smile widened, though he raised one brow in puzzlement at her restraint. He could see the effort she was making, however, so he did his best to match her tone.
"Artemis. You and I have a lot to talk about. And there are several people who want very much to meet you – Hannah, and Teleli, and Husu, for starters –"
Artemis was barely maintaining her formal, controlled demeanor. Her eyes sparkled with suppressed exuberance, and she assiduously avoided eye contact with either her father or Tommy, for fear she would lose her composure. Even so, she did not think she could continue with her planned speech, and she looked to Ilsa for help.
Ilsa came forward to stand by Nox. She winked at Artemis, and shared a grin with Rivka that left Heath wondering what the women had been planning in their absence.
"Heath." There was a fluid joy in her speech, and laughter in her eyes. "I do not think we have actually been introduced, for all that our lives and families have become intertwined. I cannot say enough how grateful I am to you and Rivka, to Audra and your family, to Teleli and this village, to the doctor who saved my Peter, to Moshe – and to Nox, who brought us all back together. So many connections. So much love and bravery. So much to be grateful for."
"Ilsa," he said with a wondering smile. "The Laughing Woman, now. It suits you. Teleli would talk to me about you. You held on to hope through your darkest time, Oša. You helped Teleli do the same, and for that alone I owe you my life." He paused, taking in the faces around him and feeling the truth of his words, and hers. So many connections. "So much to be grateful for. I am so glad to see you and Peter together and safe, and your beautiful baby girl – and Nox. I've lost count," he added, diffidently, "of how many times that horse of yours has come to my rescue."
"And yet," she mused, "I understand you have never actually ridden her."
"Well, no – not exactly," he stammered, feeling suddenly flushed and self-conscious. He saw Audra grinning at him, and he shot a puzzled look at her, and then Rivka, who wore an expression of peaceful anticipation. That, at least, was reassuring. Rivka slipped her arm around his waist and he relaxed, running a gentle hand over her shoulders.
"In any case," Ilsa went on, "Artemis had a wonderful idea while we were preparing our procession. Moshe and Rivka were explaining to us about the heder yichud."
Heath raised his eyebrows in surprise as he began to suspect what Artemis' idea had been.
Solomon and he had talked over a few things before the ceremony. For the most part, they had sought to put each other at ease, given the circumstances. The rabbi had taken time in that brief conversation to instruct and remind Heath about the elements of the ritual itself, including the heder yichud.
Immediately following a Jewish wedding ceremony, he had explained, the bride and groom traditionally retreat to a room where they can be secluded together, alone, for a brief time. It is an interlude to mark their transition into marriage; and it is an opportunity for the two to focus on each other and their yichud – their unity - before they rejoin the wedding guests as a married couple.
"We were debating several ideas and locations for a heder yichud," Ilsa was saying, turning to the slim girl holding Nox' rein, "but then Artemis had the best solution."
Artemis held out the rein, a brilliant smile now on her face. "Nox will take you and Rivka to your yichud, wherever you want that to be," she announced proudly. Then, quietly: "But don't stay away too long, because I miss you, and Teleli told me you would show me how to knap better arrowheads."
Yichud. Rivka. Heath inhaled deeply. Nox, that sounds like heaven to me right now.
Heath did not immediately take the proffered rein; he knelt, instead, to hug Artemis warmly and promise her they would be back with plenty of time to visit.
She pressed the rein into his hand, but before he stood, she whispered, "She's an awfully big horse, Uncle Heath. You going to be able to get up there?"
Heath followed her gaze up to the tall mare, who looked even more imposing from where he knelt. Nox tossed her head as if she too were issuing him a challenge.
Good question, he thought.
"She's big. I could barely make it," Artemis went on in tones of professional collegiality.
"Wait. You got up there? How'd you even reach the saddle horn?"
She knew she had him now. She shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. "I had to jump. And a little bit of a running start. You shouldn't need that, though, right?" she opined, confidentially. "I told Tommy and Avram and David that if I could get up there, it was for sure you could do it. They didn't believe me, but I know you'll prove me right."
He shook his head, smiling at the puckish gleam in her eyes. "Oh, Huntress, you do know how to play me. I'm just glad you're on my side."
"Have a nice picnic, Uncle Heath."
He stood and turned to Rivka. The look in her eyes was making his heart race - with joy as well as simple, burning desire. He swallowed. "I know a beautiful spot along Sullivan's Creek, not too far from here…"
"I'll ride anywhere with you, cowboy," she agreed, her expression bright with anticipation. She leaned in close, then, her lips by his ear. "Go jump up on that horse, love."
Desire…He wanted to grab her hand and run off that very instant. He made himself pause, though. He made himself stop. He took a brief breath of time to study her face and feel her presence; and to hold that moment forever in his memory.
Memory. Time. As ever, he could sense that bright silver weaving thread; he could feel it, follow it, trace it forward and back. Now, though, in this moment, he was humming with the energy of this place, these people, these connections. He could feel it in his bones: a deep flow, the source of that bright line, that full moving river on its way to the sea.
I can trust myself.
Breathe in. Breathe out. The river flows.
He could trust it to carry him forward. He could trust himself to be husband to this woman he loved, and father to their child.
He kissed her. "Let's go," he said.
"Not in this dress!" she pronounced. "Are you kidding?" Rivka began untying the sash of the white gown, creating a knot in her hurry. "Audra! I need your help!" she called, laughing.
"I'm coming!"
Jarrod and Nick stood grinning and watching the unconventional proceedings unfold. Audra came rushing over, first scolding her brothers to get out of her way, then giggling as she helped Rivka untangle herself from the yards of fine white fabric in which she had been draped, sari-style. Beneath she was dressed for riding. Rivka threw on her winter coat and beamed at her husband, breathless.
Grinning, he turned to Nox and reached out to trace the fine white blaze of her face.
"What do you say, Nox?" he asked. "Take us for a ride?" She whickered low and tossed her head with a hint of impatience.
Big horse.
He reminded himself he had been doing this all his life. Such a reminder had become a habit, though he hoped the day would come when it was no longer necessary. He grabbed the saddle horn with his right hand. He wanted to use both hands, but her height made that too difficult.
Really big horse, he thought again, trying to picture Artemis jumping to reach the saddle. The image made him smile. He thought of waves on the beach. He could see them, hear them, even taste them; green-blue swells rising, rising, and curling down with slow, effortless power. He stepped back with his right foot, and forward with his left, and jumped.
The feeling of a horse moving beneath him and a whoop of celebration from Artemis snapped him back into focus. He found himself firmly astride Nox, the reins in his hand. He settled himself, marveling at the balance and prodigious power he could so clearly sense in her. He was aware of blazing lines of pain pulsating from his right shoulder on down across his back and into his right leg; it was enough to make his eyes water, but it was already receding, waning with the awareness of tide and wave.
There was a brief flash of fear – How did I get up here? – but he brushed it aside.
You know damn well how you got up here. Trust it.
Ride.
He reached out a hand to Rivka. Nick gave her a boost, and she settled in behind Heath, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly. Then she threw back her head and sang out that ululating, wild cry of celebration. Nox pranced and whinnied – and then, to Heath's amazement, the cry was echoed by almost every woman and child in the village. The sound rose up trilling around them on the hilltop, rising and falling in overlapping streams of sound. Heath smiled in wonderment and with no small feeling of awe; Nox spun in place once as he took it all in. He looked back over his shoulder at Rivka, feeling like the luckiest man ever born.
"Ride, cowboy," she laughed.
He asked Nox to fly, and she took off at a gallop, carrying them forward with a sound of thunder, of drums, of a beating heart.