CHAPTER TEN
Olivia followed Khalid’s cousins to a large tent to the right of the one they slept in. Situated parallel to the campfire, the dwelling held one of importance. According to Khalid, the closer to the fire the tent’s position, the higher was one’s rank within the tribe.
Escorted inside by both brothers and shadowed by Khalid, Olivia hesitated at the entrance. Not sure what to expect, she was brought up short by the cavernous space, devoid of family and friends, with just traditional nomad furnishings. A lit brazier hung from the center pole. Ornate rugs lined the floor. Several low couches and pillows formed formal sitting areas.
“Baba,” Hassan called out. As he strode into the sleeping area, he waved at Olivia, signaling her to follow. Unlike their tent, there was no dais or bed, just a few scattered pillows. An elderly man was lying on his back on a pile of goatskins. He looked like he hadn’t moved in days.
Olivia smiled at him as she knelt beside him. Khalid knelt on the other side of him and took his hand. They talked conversationally and then their words escalated to almost a shouting match with Hassan and Malik joining in.
“What’s wrong?” Olivia asked.
“He’s hardheaded,” Khalid replied. “He is depending on the gods to heal him and doesn’t want your help.”
Olivia smacked her knees and then stood up. “Well, I’m done here.” She never went against a person’s personal or religious beliefs.
Before she could leave, Hassan stepped forward and another shouting match ensued between father and sons with Khalid intermittently throwing in his two cents.
Tired of the back and forth, Olivia sat back down. “Taghlassa, Issimine Olivia,” she said, placing her hand over her chest.
The man eyed her suspiciously, but then he replied, “Wissam.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia caught Khalid’s surprised look and smiled to herself. Since her time there, she’d picked up a few phrases here and there.
“Falas arhin?” she asked, holding out her hand. Since it wasn’t forbidden for a woman or man not related or intimately linked to touch, she waited for him to take the next step.
Muttering in Tamasheq, the old man shot daggers at his sons, but to Olivia’s surprise he turned his head and took her hand in his. Switching gears, she smiled at Khalid. “Ask him if he’s having any aches or pains.”
Khalid did as commanded and Wassim replied, almost hesitant. “He says his left side is extremely sore like he’s been riding a saddle. At times, the skin burns.”
Processing the information, Olivia nodded. “Can you help me turn him onto his side?”
With the help of all three men, Olivia turned Wissam onto his right hip. She lifted his tunic and eased his trousers down, exposing the top of his buttocks. Obviously embarrassed, Wissam ducked his head under his arm.
“Just what I thought,” Olivia mused out loud, not the least bit put off by a large bedsore on Wissam’s left hip or the foul smelling discharge. About a quarter of an inch deep and three inches across, the skin around the ulcer was blistering red, warm to the touch and oozing pus. Fortunately, the sore hadn’t reached the bone.
“Naak!” Malik exclaimed. He leaned in closer, his hand stretching toward the open wound. Olivia swatted him away before he spread the infection. Looking sheepish, Malik sat back and placed his hand in his lap.
“How long has he been lying like this?”
Khalid translated her question. Hassan held up four fingers, “Ekkoz oran,”replied.
“Four weeks?” Olivia asked.
“Try four months,” Khalid corrected.
Olivia nodded. The number sounded more like it, considering bed sores developed over a period of time.
“Can you help?” Khalid inquired, asking what both of his cousins seemed eager to know, yet remained silent.
“I think we’ve caught it in time,” Olivia declared, looking back down at the open wound. “With the proper treatment and some diligence on everyone’s part, he can bounce back.”
Khalid passed her diagnosis on to his cousins and both of them visually relaxed.
Olivia stood, preparing to dive in as soon as possible. “I’ll clean the wound tonight and everyday thereafter.” She hesitated, mentally determining the medicinal herbs available in the middle of the desert. “Aloe and possibly pine oil should be applied up to three times a day. And he’ll have to have the pressure on that hip relieved.” Olivia glanced around the room. “We’re going to have to obstruct his movements somewhat so that he doesn’t lie on that hip.”
When Olivia looked back at Khalid, his gaze caught hers and held her riveted. She knew exactly where his mind had drifted. She’d seen that hungry look before. And despite the other three occupants in the room and their earlier argument, the tiny bud between her legs throbbed.
Olivia’s face burned hotly. How could he turn her brain to mush with just a look? Irritated by her body’s response, she snapped, “Are you going to gather what I need or sit there mooning over me?”
Malik started coughing profusely, Hassan beat him on the back like a lunatic and Khalid shot daggers at her. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly stood.
“My cousins will procure the plants for your medicines. Other than that you have everything under control and you no longer need me.”
He cut his eyes at his two cousins, tossed them a few parting words, and then headed toward the entrance. Her gaze followed him until he disappeared through the tent flap and into the night.
It was official, she had to be batshit crazy. It was the only thing that could explain why she wanted to run after him and apologize.
***
I don’t want any reminders of this place or you.
Khalid gritted his teeth. She’d spoken the words more than a week ago and the sting of them hadn’t abated. He’d even gone so far as to distance himself from her, and even contemplated sending her back to her brother. Of course, he nixed the latter when he awakened the following morning and found her sleeping next to him.
To say she was breathtaking would’ve been an understatement. She’d lain under the cover, arms curled around a pillow, and her dark hair fanned out around her head. Tempted, he’d reached out and taken one of the curls in his hands and played with it like an infatuated fool. Khalid silently cursed his pathetic lack of willpower that morning. He’d broken his promise to maintain his distance before the sun even broke over the horizon.
Olivia’s mindset would’ve been perfect during his womanizing days. Lord knows every woman he’d taken to his bed had tried to trap him into marriage in some shape or form, including one or two fake pregnancies. And yet, it stung that she’d outright rejected the idea of carrying his child. As if he wasn’t good enough.
After breaking his fast alone, Khalid left their tent. Like most of the tribe, he napped during the hotter part of the day and worked during the coolest. Today he’d had a late start. Pretending to sleep while Olivia moved around the tent, he was able to observe her without her knowledge. A guilty pleasure he’d allowed himself ever since he’d made what he quickly realized was a stupid and pointless vow.
This morning, the camp was abuzz with activity. Children played hide and seek, running from tent to tent, looking for sanctuary. Several women, their arms weighed down with clothes, headed to the oasis. His male cousins watered and fed the horses and camels, others herded the goats.
Per his usual routine, Khalid assisted with the tribe’s camels and preparing them for the winter races in Aoudaghost. For some reason, Hassan believed racing cars qualified him for training camels, particularly a spirited and headstrong female who wouldn’t let anyone saddle train her.
Despite trying to convince his cousin otherwise, Khalid was in the process of breaking in said camel. For the past three weeks, he’d worked with the young female, beginning with simply sitting in the paddock with her.
Curious, the two-year old would come close, then at the last minute bolt. On and on this went for several days until she finally allowed Khalid to touch her. By the second week, she greeted him at the paddock gate. Things were going so well with the camel’s training, Khalid expected her to accept a saddle by month’s end.
If only Olivia had been so easy. His life would be so much more pleasant.
“I see it’s going well.” Khalid glanced over his shoulder. Mounted on Arabian stallions, Hassan and Malik skirted the corral fence. “How much longer do you think before she’ll accept a rider?” Hassan asked as he dismounted.
“Another month, maybe two,” Khalid estimated. “Maybe more. Breaking in a camel is a marathon not a sprint. You almost have to take a hands off approach. Let their curiosity get the better of them until they come to you.”
“Is that how you’re training your female?” Still sitting astride his white Arabian, Malik rested his arms on the pommel and grinned. “Better be careful or my father will steal her from you.”
Khalid knew very well to whom Malik was referring. He’d kept a surreptitious watch over Olivia and Wissam the moment they’d exited the tent.
Olivia had taken to Wissam. In between what seemed like treating half the tribe’s ailments, she’d taken to sitting with the old man on a daily basis. Due to the language barrier neither of them talked. They just sat in companionable silence, enjoying the other’s company. Khalid refused to acknowledge the bitter taste of jealousy tainting his tongue.
“He can have her. I’ll let her move into Wissam’s tent tonight.”
Malik’s mouth tightened, but he held his tongue. After a beat, he turned his horse around and rode off.
“He knows I’m joking, right?” Khalid asked disturbed by his cousin’s reaction.
Dismounting, Hassan shrugged. “My brother takes life too seriously.”
“He wasn’t always like that,” Khalid pointed out, remembering the playful boy who’d enjoyed practical jokes.
Hassan looked at something in the distance. “He changed after the feud.”
“And not for the better,” Khalid surmised, noting the other man’s constant negativity.
“Trouble in paradise?” Hassan asked, changing the subject.
“Big trouble.” Khalid’s eyes drifted back to Olivia. Attired from head to toe in a lavender caftan and matching tasuwart covering her hair, she looked like any woman from his tribe…although all of them paled next to her beauty.
Hassan walked over and placed his arms on the fence. “Want to talk about it?”
Khalid didn’t but the words rushed out of him like pus from an open wound. “She’s my personal obsession. I want her more than I want anything in this life.”
“So you’ve fallen in love. I’m not surprised.”
Khalid opened his mouth to shoot down the validity of his cousin’s theory. Only thing is he couldn’t because it was the truth. He was in irrevocably and unabatedly in love with Olivia.
“She hates me.” Khalid didn’t wait for Hassan to reply. “Not that I haven’t done everything conceivable to earn her hostility, but from the beginning she wanted nothing to do with me. She turned down my proposal of marriage. Even the thought of carrying my child fills her with disgust.”
Hassan looked pensive. “Did you force her?”
Khalid shook his head. “I would never have forgiven myself if I’d stooped to rape.”
“She doesn’t want marriage or anything to do with you, so you say. Now it makes sense. Malik and I were wondering why you’ve been pouting.”
“I haven’t been pouting!” Khalid exploded, his anger increasing in the face of Hassan’s laughter. His mind no longer on the young camel, he marched over and got up in his cousin’s face.
Wary, but still grinning, Hassan backed up. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” He held up his hands. “You have only to look at the two of you to see you’re both miserable.”
Khalid was beyond miserable.
He and Olivia occupied the same tent, but they no longer shared a bed. He should’ve moved out and stayed with Hassan and his family. Always a glutton for punishment, he remained because he couldn’t bear not being near her.
Well, he wasn’t talking. On multiple occasions she’d tried drawing him into conversation, but Khalid greeted her attempts with stony silence.
Merde! He was pouting.
Khalid placed his crossed arms on the fence. Hassan copied his stance.
“Any advice?”
“Start with accepting her terms, even if you don’t agree with them. You don’t have to marry her to be with her. Where is she going to go? She cannot escape and no one in the tribe will grant her refuge, not even my father. If she doesn’t want your children, that’s something your ego must deal with,” Hassan paused to stroke his beard, his gaze directed at something in the distance. “Children kill the mood anyway. I couldn’t tell you how many times Ameenah and I have been interrupted by our four rug bugs.”
Hassan slapped Khalid on the back, startling him. “So you see, you don’t have any troubles. And the problems you do have, they are easily rectifiable. Practice a little patience and she’ll be eating out of your hand.”
Khalid chuckled. He wasn’t sure if Hassan was talking about Olivia or a camel. His cousin didn’t give him the opportunity to clarify his meaning. He’d remounted his horse and cantered off.