Not long after I left Rick standing behind me, I paused, turned my head and gestured for him to catch up. He did, in a mere couple of seconds, and hand in hand we returned back to camp. The fire, dancing in the sluggish wind, gave off welcomed warmth as Rick and I settled down next to it. However, being consumed by a fire other then the physical one before me, I was quite warm wherever I was.
Sitting in his arms, listing to the quiet sounds of the tranquil desert night, I pondered the day's emotional stresses. I was rather perturbed by the whole ordeal. First of all, I had overreacted to Rick's somewhat-typical mannerisms in such a way that even I was a little shocked. It had simply made me extremely angry, and I could not figure out why on earth this was so. He had done worse things that I hardly even noticed, or chose to dwell on. And second of all, I was unquestionably not one to cry at a battle of wills with my husband, much less turn into a blabbering idiot.
It was all an enigma that, as all puzzles tend to do, weighed heavily on my thoughts. I wanted to figure out what was going on. I was, quite understandably, a little stressed about the impending expedition. But that was hardly a strain, hardly enough to make me become all emotional.
Without meaning to, I sighed heavily, breaking through the silence.
Rick's hold around me tightened slightly. "Everything okay?" he asked quietly.
Turing my head to gaze up at him, I started smiling softly. "I'm fine, Rick."
From across the fire, I heard Jonathan sigh loudly. When I looked at him, he was scowling in that way he has. "You two bloody make me sick," he complained, shaking his head. "I'd forgotten what it was like being around you so much."
"Thank you Jonathan," I retorted dryly. "If you don't like it, you can very well leave."
Standing up and brushing the dust and sand off of his clothes, Jonathan replied that he was going to do just that. Saluting us in a peculiar manner, he quickly retreated into his private tent. As soon as the little flap-door closed, Rick kissed the side of my neck in such a way that goose bumps arose across my arms.
"Honey," I protested weakly, not wanting him to stop and wishing he would at the same moment. "We're in the middle of the desert."
"So?" was Rick's comment.
I sighed wistfully and somehow managed to push his lips away from my neck. Rick made a whimpering sound; I gently patted him on the knee.
"Oh, come on," I chided tenderly, offering an unspoken compromise by settling deeper into his lap. This gambit, however, caused another problem, as now he and I were closer together. I could feel things I couldn't feel before. His breath warmed my skin, sending shivers down my arms, my back. Meaningfully, his hand squeezed my shoulder. Closing my eyes, I sighed happily.
All right Rick…so what if we're in the middle of the desert and Jonathan is in the tent text to ours? Pick me up…carry me away. I want you here and now.
"Evelyn?"
Rick's voice, suddenly flat in sound, hushed and cold, broke through my fantasy. Alarmingly, my eyes shot open to see him staring off in the distance. I followed his gaze, but finding nothing in return.
"What?" I asked, my own voice now subdued.
"Look," Rick whispered, holding up his hand and pointing his index finger toward the horizon. "See that yellow light?"
Again, I looked to where he was hinting at. Ahh, there it was! Just off in the distance was a flickering glow, illuminating the area around it. Squinting my eyes, I tired to get a better look.
"Is it a campfire?"
Rick nodded solemnly, "Looks like it."
I didn't understand. "What's the big deal? It could very well be Bedouin."
Scoffing at my comment, Rick shook his head. "There aren't any around here; we would have seen them."
Somehow I doubted that, but I kept my mouth shut. I had already caused, or helped cause, one squabble today. I had to admit however, it was a bit troubling; all known digs were presently taking place south of us or near Alexandria. There shouldn't be any other people out here with the exception of the natives. But of course, they had every right to be so and they could very well be camping out for one reason or another.
"Honestly Rick," I finally said, sighing again. "Its probably some poor Arab."
Oh, but too late. My husband had already set into soldier-mode and he glanced at me like I was talking nonsense. Grumbling something I couldn't understand, he pushed me off of his lap and into the sand.
"I'm going to keep watch," he said defiantly, standing up and drawing his ever-present pistol out of its holster.
Rolling my eyes, I picked myself up off the ground. "Richard," I whined his name softly, my hands moving to my hips. "C'mon, its cold out. I need you to keep me warm." I stuck out my bottom lip and gave him puppy dog eyes.
Rick eyed me for a few moments; he was trying to decide whether or not to give in. I knew; I could tell by the look in his eyes. I helped him along in his decision, batting my eyelids, slowly but regularly, and tilting my head to one side.
"God damn it Evelyn," he groaned, taking a couple of steps towards me.
My hands relaxed and a soft smile formed on my lips as he wrapped one arm around my waist.
"You really want me to stay?" he asked, reminding me of when he asked me if I really wanted to know the location to Hamunaptra. My answer now was the same as it had been then.
"Well, yes."
A devilish look forming in his eyes, he leaned in and softly kissed me. Melting against him, I felt my knees begin to weaken, my heart beat faster with each touch, each kiss. I was well on my way to being in complete oblivion; I was clay in my creator's hands. This was not an innocent embrace, nor kiss. Rick knew what he was doing and what he was doing to me in the process. He knew that any moment now we would both forget any inhibitions that lay as stones in our path. We would drop everything and continue our progressive journey into a world that only we knew.
And then he pulled away.
Opening my eyes, I found him walking placidly away, as if nothing had happened. He didn't even look back to see if I were watching him.
I sighed, disappointed, and I admit, a little angry, and turned, walking towards our tent. It seemed large and uninviting as I pulled the flab backed and sulked in. Our beds were made up, making me immediately remember exactly who had made them up. And why I had not been there in the process. Cringing, I laid down, not bothering to get undressed save to un-tuck my shirt from my skirt and to slip off my shoes. I was, in truth, too tired to look for my nightgown. This was uncompleted and required little effort.
But not very comfortable.
Sighing once again, I tried to get my skirt to stop sticking to my skin and my shirt to loosen up as I moved about. Finally, after a good deal of careful maneuvering and skillful placing of fabric, I was situated. Well, except for the fact that I only had one pillow. I reached across and grabbed Rick's from his area; if he wasn't here to claim it that was his own fault. I placed my own under my head and then hugged his to my body. It smelled like him, which was a danger and a comfort at the same time.
Now, I was situated. Watching the fire dance languidly though the tent walls, I felt my eyelids become heavier and heavier as they inched closer to completely shut. I wanted so badly to stay awake, hopeful Rick would change his mind and come snuggle up with me. But at the same moment another force was towing me toward dreamland. I wasn't completely sure which force would win the battle, but either way I would be content.
More thoughts of Rick occupied my brain as I waited for nature to choose its path. I loved him more then I knew how to express, and it pained me to think of how I hurt him earlier. That had never been my intention. Sometimes we were both to stubborn for our own good, I think. Very often it got the best of us.
Things always turned out for the best however. We both loved each other too much to let differences in opinion cause to much damage. And if there was in fact harm, the making up certainly fixed any problems that might linger.
Rick was complicated that way. He always let his actions speak, rather then the words that I knew were at the base of his throat. I wasn't entirely sure why this was so, and for a while it got on my nerves. That was, until, I realized that it was just in his character. A man of little words, but his actions spoke volumes. And while I could count on one hand the number of times he had actually stated the words "I love you" to me, the number of times he had shown me such was immeasurable.
Related thoughts lured me to sleep that night, accompanied by the quiet cracking of the fire and the soft wind. The last image that crossed my foggy brain was that of my husband, quietly looking into the tent to check up on me, asking if I was doing all right and whether or not I was asleep.
I hadn't the energy to reply.
********
When I awoke the next morning, I was not at all surprised to find Rick sill absent from our bed. No doubt he had spent the entire night pacing around the camp, worrying about something that hardly presented itself as a threat. Our experiences had changed him in that way; anything that could be was a potential problem and if there was a way to repress it, he would be there.
I threw the blankets aside and sat up, stretching my lazy arms over my head and yawning. My back was stiff, my head hurt, but I felt none of it. As I thought of the journey ahead, I felt the flutter of excitement start in my belly.
Or perhaps it was something else. As I stood, I felt a wave of strong nausea come over me, elevating the funny flutter in my stomach. I paused at the tent flap and groaned softly, remembering I had not eaten last night. Another prime example of how stubbornness had gotten the better of me, again. Refusing Rick's dinner had been a foolish thing to do on my part; out here that sort of thing could kill you.
Weakly, I stumbled out of the tent and into the bright sunlight. It made me feel dizzy and had Rick not seen me start to waver, I might have fallen over. He was there in no time, grabbing me by the arm and holding me upright.
"You all right?" he asked, looking at me with a concerned expression.
I moaned and leaned against him, thankful for his strong body. I shut my eyes and buried my head into the warm folds of his shirt, letting his arms encircle me.
"You should have eaten," he chided softly, figuring out what was wrong without me having to explain. For this I was grateful; I feared that if I opened my mouth the food that I had consumed for breakfast yesterday would, without a doubt, reappear.
I let him lead me over to the campfire and set me down gently on a blanket upon the sand. I feebly complied with what he told me to do and let him fuss over me as he brought first some water and then the corner off a loaf of bread.
They seemed to calm my stomach and by the time Jonathan emerged from his tent a half an hour later, I was feeling much better. Rick wouldn't let me help with the clean up however, telling me to sit down repeatedly and to stay there. I argued that I hadn't helped yesterday and that I owed both of them, but he would have none of it. Stubborn man.
It was another hour before we were situated to go. Rick, having assured himself that I was perfectly fine to ride on my own camel, told me to stay close and kept me there the entire day. Jonathan rode along the other side, and although it felt a bit like I was a prisoner between my husband and my brother, I was hardly mad. I was too excited with the road ahead. And for Karnack, which was getting closer and closer with each minute.
I quite forgot about the strange campfire, and in all honesty, I think Rick did too.