I shook my head and, thankfully, the gunrunner backed off that line of questioning. “Where did you learn how to ride these things so well?”
“My great-aunt had some land up in Quebec when I was growing up,” I replied, glad for the subject change. Jeremiah pulled beside me as I continued. “We used to race snowmobiles around her property in the winter.” I didn’t tell them that it had been over a decade, and I’d never driven one by myself. I was having fun with the quad anyway and doing well enough on my own.
Lucas laughed. “Sounds like fun.”
“I thought you didn’t have any family left.”
I shrugged at Jeremiah’s question. “When my parents moved to New York, we fell out of touch. I don’t know them except for a few childhood memories. So when my parents died, asking them for help seemed like asking for charity.”
“Pride cometh before the fall,” Lucas quipped, and I flinched. The smile slipped from his face. “I’m sorry, that was insensitive.”
I maneuvered the quad back and around both of the other vehicles. Right at that moment I didn’t want to talk to either man about my family or the choices I’d made in life. My secret gnawed at my soul; being with both men only made my guilt that much sharper. Flying down the tall dune, I followed after the main group that was waiting for us. We were the only ones riding on the quads, Rashid and his men preferring the relative safety of the SUV.
The shadows cast by the sandy hills were growing larger by the minute as the sun set along the distant horizon. The wind on my face helped clear the twin tears sliding down my cheeks. By the time the two Hamilton men had caught up with me, the dry desert air had already soaked up the moisture on my face.
When we reached the encampment, the sun had already disappeared below the horizon, leaving the last tendrils of twilight to guide our way. The camp however was difficult to miss; it glowed like a fiery brand against the fading light, an oasis of light in the growing night.
The entire encampment had a wall surrounding it made up of reeds or some kind of vegetation. As we came inside, I saw that the area was lit with a combination of fire and electricity. I neither saw nor heard any generators running, and although I saw no panels, I wagered a silent guess that the Bedouin camp used solar energy. Perfect for a desert people, if not quite as rustic as one might imagine.
We parked the vehicles near the entrance, and I winced as I swung my leg from the ATV. Much of the afternoon had been spent on the four wheelers, and I walked bow-legged for a moment before my muscles stopped cramping. Away from where the vehicles were parked, large rugs lay on the sand around the areas where people could walk. The wind had picked up, swirling little eddies of sand around the SUV.
“Lucy!”
At the familiar voice, I turned to see Amyrah walking toward me. A big grin split my face as we embraced. “I thought your brother wouldn’t let you out of the hotel,” I said incredulously.
“Oh, he almost wouldn’t. I had to plead and beg to come see you again.” She tugged at my arm. “Come, we have food and entertainment waiting.”
“Entertainment?”
I had no idea what kind of extravaganza we’d be in for at the desert camp.
While we ate, Amyrah introduced me to several of the women in the group. Several of them were dancers, the thin veils they covered themselves with barely hiding the curves of skin and gilded outfits. They were all beautiful, and Amyrah seemed to be friends with many of them. I got the impression the young girl desperately wanted to be amongst their ranks, be allowed to wear the sparkling, skimpy outfits and dance on stage.
The furtive looks over her shoulder toward her brother, and the constant guard detail she had flanking her, told me Amyrah’s struggle in that respect would be long.
The entertainment began before everyone had finished eating. The belly dancers started the show, and I was mesmerized by how their bodies moved to the beat of the nearby drums. The wind blew their veils all around but the dancers moved with it, allowing the currents to only add to the dance. I watched, fascinated, by the movements of the women; they were so much more sexual than I would have thought from the Arabic country.
When my wood plate skidded across the table with the wind and people began milling about in the background, I realized something was amiss. The dancer on stage finished her routine, the veils whipping around her, then as she exited the platform Rashid stepped toward us. “We will be staying here tonight,” he said, directing his words at Jeremiah and Lucas who flanked me. He beckoned Amyrah to him, then gestured to one of the male dancers. “Hassan will show you where you will spend the night.”
The wind was howling now, sand pelting my exposed skin. Jeremiah tucked me in to his side, shielding me with his jacket as we followed the dancer toward a row of tents at the far end of the complex. Around us, lights were going out one by one, plunging our path into near darkness. Fortunately, Hassan had a flashlight which, if we stayed close to him, was still visible through the sandy air.
We ducked into a small hallway lined with rugs and woven blankets, a brief respite to the sandy conditions. Hassan, it appeared, couldn’t speak English but he did just fine by pointing: I was to go there, Jeremiah there, and Lucas over there. Without a word we parted ways, although I was loathe to release the large man holding me. Being back in his arms was pure heaven; the guilt weighing my soul was still there, but I wanted to cling to this moment for as long as possible.
The interior of my tent was much like the outside. Thick cloth protected us from the elements, the material rippling with the wind. The floor was covered by rugs, with a single solar lamp on the floor lighting the room. To one side, there was a low bed, only raised a foot or so off the ground. Pillows lined the room, and an ornate hookah sat on a low table at one end.
Despite myself, I paused to marvel at my surroundings. I was in a Bedouin camp, inside one of their tents, on the Arabian desert. This was not at all where I thought I would ever find myself, and despite everything I was happy to be part of this.
I heard the howling winds grow louder behind me and turned to see Jeremiah close the flap over the door. My breath caught as we stared at one another from across the small room. His face was as open as I’d ever seen; deep emotion warred across his features, but he didn’t step forward. I was rooted in place, unable to make a move.
Finally, he spoke. “I admit that I’ve put you through a lot in our time together.” His voice was rough, but his gaze on me didn’t waver. “Say the word and I’m gone.”