After breakfast Andi retrieved their clothes, now dry, and gave them a brief tour of her home. The main room was the largest, with a small wood stove in the corner, a couch, several armchairs, and a large, rough-hewn table. Everything was battered and weather-beaten, but the room looked comfortable and lived-in.
Besides the Monkees’ “bedroom”, there were four other stilt buildings. One was Andi’s bedroom, and the others were storage rooms, each one fairly crammed with junk. The only other permanent structure was Shesha’s makeshift stall.
“He doesn’t spend a whole lot of time in there--only when it’s raining,” she explained.
“Hey, where is your horse, anyway?” Micky asked.
Andi shrugged. “Probably out grazing somewhere. He can take care of himself.”
“You built all this yourself?” Peter asked.
Andi nodded. “You can get a lot done in five years when you haven’t anything better to do.”
“Do you live ‘ere all alone?” Davy asked, still looking in awe at everything she had built.
“Yeah, since I was fourteen.” There was something in her tone that made them swallow any further questions. They had obviously touched upon a sensitive subject.
When she was done Micky and Davy returned to the beach, and Peter sat in one of Andi’s rickety beach chairs, staring at the waterfall in quiet contentment.
Mike lingered by Andi’s side. “Hey, I just wanted to thank you for, uh, rescuin’ us last night.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad I could help. That guy did not look nice.” Her sentences were short and clipped, and she avoided his eyes. “So what do you guys do, when you’re not being kidnapped by strange men?”
“We’re musicians. We’re a band--we call ourselves the Monkees.”
Andi giggled. As Mike had said that, Micky had made a wild leap into the air. “How appropriate. Have you made any records?”
“No, not yet. We’re always tryin’ to find work, though.”
Some of the ice around Andi’s heart cracked ever so slightly. “Well, I wish you luck.”
Mike gave her an “aw, shucks,” look and kicked at the sand absently. “So, what about you? What do you do all day?”
“I ride, patrol the area, and keep my home in good repair. I practice with my spears and sword, and . . . just . . . exist.”
As she said ‘sword’ the hairs on Mike’s neck stood on end. “Spears? Sword?”
“Yeah. I have to protect myself, and I don’t care for guns. I started studying martial arts when I was ten, and just stayed with it.” Her tone was slightly apologetic. She knew not all people held the same views on violence as she did.
Mike wasn’t sure what to say. Andi was most certainly beautiful, but there was something dangerous lurking beneath that pretty exterior. She looked at him and smiled, but the smile did not reach her eyes.
“You have nothing to fear from me, Mike. If I wanted to hurt you I could have done so easily long before now. You’re safe here.”
Mike could not find any reason to doubt her.
~*~
For the rest of the day Andi tried to stay away from them, but the sound of loud, off-key singing drew her out of her house.
Micky and Davy were holding a contest to see who could hit the loudest, sourest note. So far Micky was winning. As Mike and Peter--whose hands were still clamped firmly over their ears--declared him the winner, he picked up several handfuls of sand and hurled them into the air. That began a furious sand war, which Andi watched with a bemused grin, shaking her head.
Monkees, indeed.
She was walking past them, still chuckling, when a large clump of slightly damp sand struck her in the side of the head.
Andi stopped, the sand flaking down into her shirt. She turned towards Micky, her dark brows drawn together in a glare that even Mike could be jealous of. Micky backed away.
“All right, Dolenz, that is IT!” she roared, charging at him. She leaped onto his back and they both tumbled to the ground.
Andi rolled to her feet and tossed her hair back over her shoulders, laughing maniacally. “I got you!” she cackled.
Micky stared for a few moments before he understood--she was playing.
For the rest of the afternoon she chased them up and down the beach, hooting and hollering and laughing like she hadn’t done in years. Gone were any illusions she’d had about keeping them at arm’s length--she was having too much fun to care.
“Where did YOU come from?” Mike asked, stopping to catch his breath.
“Who cares?” Micky shouted, slapping Andi on the shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!”
Andi paused briefly before resuming her chase. “I haven’t had anyone to play with in a long time,” she said. For a brief moment their eyes locked, and Mike understood. Then she was gone.
~*~
That night they ate dinner in the main building, staying there for quite some time afterwards, playing cards and eventually just talking. Andi had never been so content as she sat on her couch with her long legs drawn up underneath her and her new friends around her.
This is all going to end badly, you know. They can’t stay here forever.
She pushed the thought out of her mind. All she wanted was to savor the moment forever.
“So, you’re musicians, but you haven’t played anything for me yet.”
Mike looked down at his empty hands, realizing for the first time how much he missed his twelve-string. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of hard to play without a guitar.”
Andi rose quickly and ran out of the building, returning less than a minute later clutching a six-string acoustic guitar. Unlike most of her possessions, the guitar looked brand new, with a golden finish on the face and a rich mahogany back. She placed it in Mike’s hands and curled back up on the couch.
“Now you have one,” she said simply.
“Well, guys?” Mike said. After a few moments they decided upon ‘As We Go Along’. Andi listened with rapt attention as they sang, with Mike and Peter filling in for the missing bass and guitars with their voices, and Davy and Micky harmonizing rather nicely.
I can tell by your face
That you’re looking to find a place
To settle your mind and reveal who you are
And you shouldn’t be shy, for I’m not gonna try
To hurt you or heal you or steal your star . . .
If the words had any immediate effect, Andi couldn’t tell. But as they sang the bands of ice around her heart cracked and split and fell away.
They’re your friends now, Andi. No use denying it now.
Andi smiled and shook her head. No, there would be no more denial. Then she looked at Mike.
Except . . .
~*~
The next morning Andi awoke late, still dazed from the previous night. The warm, pleasant feeling in her stomach had been replaced by cold, nervous dread. Her feelings for Mike cried out for attention.
What are you going to do, Andi?
“I might be their friend, but I’m not going to let myself fall in love,” she said as she dressed. As she buttoned her shirt she faced her image in the mirror.
I just wish I believed that.
The Monkees were already making breakfast, and they smiled at her as she entered--all except Mike, who nodded and kept his eyes focused rather cautiously on Micky, who was slicing bread with one of Andi’s larger knives.
Andi fended off the brotherly teasing of Micky and Davy with ease, swatting at Micky every time he tried to snatch something off her plate. Whereas before her laughter had been quiet and restrained, now it was joyful and unbridled. The fact that she had managed to live so long without companionship suddenly seemed astounding to her.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. In between running and playing with Micky and Davy, she sat on her porch and tinkered with her guitar. Mike joined her, teaching her some of the simpler chord progressions of his songs. She fairly vibrated with nervous excitement when he moved to sit behind her, reaching around her shoulders to place her fingers in the right positions.
As he touched her the skin on her forearms tingled. I could really get to like this. But I won’t.
Shesha finally turned up after dinner, shaking his head impatiently. Andi realized that she had gone nearly two days without riding him, and she could tell by the way he nipped at her that he was not pleased about that.
She retrieved his bridle and swung up onto his back. As she turned towards the forest, she paused. Mike was leaning against a palm tree, once again watching the others play.
She rode up beside him, fighting back the fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Hey there, tall dark and handsome,” she said, trying to imitate his Texas drawl, but her British accent made it sound all wrong. She grimaced.
Mike, however, didn’t seem to notice. He looked up at her and smiled. “Hey yourself.” He patted Shesha on the neck and the horse gave him a friendly nudge.
“I’m going for a ride,” she said, fighting to keep her voice within its normal range. “Would you like to come with me?”
For a moment it seemed like he was going to say no, but then he shrugged. “Why not?”
She proffered an arm. “Well, then come on.” Mike took her hand and swung up behind her. He grabbed awkwardly at her waist as Shesha took a few halting steps.
“Oh, jeez, I’m sorry,” he said, hastily removing his hands.
“For what? You have to hang on, you know.”
“All right,” he said with a quiet chuckle, taking a cautious hold of her middle.
She trotted over to where Davy and Micky and Peter were playing cards.
“We’re going for a ride, guys. Don’t wait up.”
She turned Shesha around and took off down the beach at a full gallop. Mike forgot all about being gentlemanly as he hung on for dear life.
They exploded through a narrow crack in the dense foliage and climbed a steep trail. At the top of the hill Andi slowed Shesha to a walk, and Mike eased his death grip. “Wow,” he said, slightly out of breath. “You think we could try it a little slower next time?”
She turned around slightly and favored him with a dazzling smile. “Slower? What does that mean?”
Mike just stared at her smile. Now how come I didn’t notice that before?
They rode in silence for a while. The narrow path widened slightly, and Andi let the reins drop. She tossed a leg over Shesha’s neck and turned until she could see Mike. Shesha kept walking as if nothing had happened.
“So, Mike, how do you like my forest?”
“It’s great--what do mean, your forest?”
“It’s mine. I own it. Everything you see--including the road where I found you--belongs to me.”
“And just how did you accomplish that?”
Andi suddenly paled. Oh, jeez, I didn’t realize this was where our conversation was headed.
“I inherited this land from my . . . parents. They . . . they . . . “ She trailed off, her face turning from white to red, a nauseous lump rising in her throat.
“Hey, take it easy,” Mike said, touching her shoulder gently. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s unpleasant.”
She nodded, looking up into his brown eyes. For an instant her mask slipped away and Mike could see the depth of her pain, but then her eyes narrowed and the pain vanished. “Nope, it’s just that I never told anyone before,” she said with a flippancy that Mike could hardly believe. “Anyway, I own this entire area. My uncle Nelson runs the company for me, because I can’t stand business.”
“Company?”
A distinctly mischievous look appeared in her eyes. “Ever heard of the Dellin Corporation?”
“Um . . . no. Wait! Isn’t it that big company that gives away a lot of money to charities?”
“Partly, yes. My parents . . . “ she hesitated again on those words, “were philanthropists in addition to being millionaires.”
Mike froze. “Millionaires?”
“Mm hmm,” she murmured.
“So that means you’re . . . ”
“Up to my neck in money, yes. Only, don’t let it get round to the others. People treat you differently when they find out you have money.”
“If you’ve got money, why are you living here? You could live anywhere in the world, in the lap of luxury . . . “
“Yeah, I know. But I like it here. It’s quiet and secluded and nobody bothers me.”
“Not even me?” he said teasingly.
“Oh, you bother me plenty,” she said, her tone so solemn that for a moment he thought she was serious. Then that dazzling smile returned.
“I am glad you’re here, though. I like you and your friends a lot.”
“Well, we like you, too,” Mike replied, watching as Andi’s face turned bright red. “Okay, Miss Mysterious. Why do you do that?” he asked sternly.
“Do what?”
“Turn red every time I look at you or talk to you.”
Her dark brows knitted together. “Why do you think?” Because I love you, you wretched nit.
“I don’t know why. That’s why I’m askin’ you.”
She made an inarticulate growling noise in the back of her throat. “If you need to ask you’ll never understand.”
Mike bit back on the anger that was slowly worming its way up his throat. “Try me.”
Okay, Andi. You’re stuck now.
“You make me nervous,” she lied. “You’re so strong and silent, and . . . there’s something about you that makes me feel funny, okay?”
“And you really believe that?”
“Yeah, I do. Look, let’s not fight. I still have something to show you.”
She hopped down from Shesha’s back. Mike looked momentarily perplexed.
“Um, how do I get down?”
“You mean you come from Texas and you can’t ride a horse?” She couldn’t keep the smirky grin off her face this time.
Mike gave her a mock-annoyed glare. “Would you cut that out and help me down?” It wasn’t that he couldn’t ride. There were no stirrups and no saddle horn for him to hold on to.
“Just swing your leg over and slide off. Shesha won’t move, I promise.” He swung his leg over Shesha’s neck and dropped awkwardly to the ground. He reached out reflexively, and Andi’s arm was automatically there to steady him.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments before Mike dropped his gaze. “Um, what were you going to show me?”
Andi led the way further down the path, pushing her way past some low-hanging vines that opened onto a sight so beautiful it took his breath away.
A small meadow had been cut into the dense forest. Long golden grasses waved gently in the small breeze that floated past the treetops. Fireflies were already out, illuminating the small field with their momentary glow. The entire place radiated peace and calm, and Andi’s eyes were closed in quiet contentment as she headed out into the field, running her hands through the golden stems.
Mike followed her to a large rock that sat in almost the exact center of the meadow. Andi crawled up onto its craggy surface and settled into an impression that cradled her like a chair.
“Come on up,” she said, patting the spot next to her. “The rock’s fine.”
“You want me to sit on a rock?” Mike said, crossing his arms stubbornly.
“Just get up here,” she giggled. Mike let out a sigh of frustration and clambered up beside her. The rock was surprisingly warm, and the impression seemed like it had been carved with his body in mind.
“It’s not so bad, is it?” she said.
“No, I guess not.” They sat in silence for several long minutes, during which Mike tried not to stare at Andi, without much success. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the graceful lines of her neck or the elegant curves of her jaw and cheekbones.
She giggled slightly as a light breeze blew several locks of ebony hair into her face. Without thinking, Mike reached out and brushed the hair back. His hand lingered, and he gently touched her cheek. She smiled and reached up to touch his face, brushing one cheek with a calloused hand. Purely on impulse, he leaned over and kissed her.
Andi froze. Her mind swirled. She didn’t know whether she loved him or not, or even whether she was willing to admit it. Confusion and confliction tore away at her, filling her head with static.
“Andi? Are you okay?” he asked.
No.
“Um . . . yeah. First kiss,” she mumbled. “It’s not exactly what I expected.”
Mike drew back in surprise. “You mean no one’s ever kissed you before?”
Andi shook her head.
“What a crime,” he said with mock-seriousness. “I’m goin’ to change that.” He leaned in for another kiss, but Andi moved away.
“No, stop. Why are you doing this?”
“Well, Andi . . . “ he stammered, looking down at his hands, “I . . . like you. I like you a lot.”
Andi closed her eyes, wishing he hadn’t said that.
“Listen, Mike,” she said, fully intending to shatter his illusions right then and there, “You don’t want me. I’m damaged goods. I can’t . . . I can’t feel, or cry. I can shed no tears for you; I’ve wept them all.” Her voice was full of the emotion she was trying--and failing--to deny she felt.
“I don’t care,” Mike said stubbornly.
“But it’s not fair to you. You need someone who can love you, and I . . . just can’t.”
“Why? You’ve been hidin’ somethin’ from me since I got here. Why are you afraid to tell me?”
“I’m not afraid!” she snapped.
Yes, you are. She suppressed the urge to tell the voice to shut up.
“Then what, for the love of God, is it?” he asked, exasperated.
Andi took a deep breath. “I . . . my . . . parents . . . “ Once again, as she mentioned her parents, the world seemed to close in on her, choking off her air. She raised her eyes but could not bring herself to look him in the face. “Look, just forget about me. I can’t love you and I can’t care about you. Just . . . forget you ever knew me.” She leaped down from the rock.
“Go back to the path. Shesha will lead you back home.” She turned and ran off, her long legs quickly carrying her away from the one with whom she had fallen in love.
On to Part Three
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