"An' you, Rina?" he asked.
Her eyes became almost defiant but her voice betrayed her unsureness.
"I think I'm a Lesbian."
He laughed.
"Don't laugh!" she said quickly. "It's not so crazy.
I've been with girls and I've been with men.
And I've never made it with a man, not with any man like I have with a girl." She laughed bitterly. "Men are such fools.
It's so easy to make them believe what they want to.
And I know all the tricks."
His male vanity was aroused. "Maybe that's because you ain't never come up against a real man."
A challenging note came into her voice. "Oh, no?"
He felt her fingers lightly search his thighs beneath the blanket and find his phallus.
Quickly she threw the blanket aside and pressed her head into his lap.
He felt the movement of her lips, and suddenly he was angry.
He pulled her head back by the hair.
"What're you tryin' to prove?" he asked harshly.
Her breath came hard and uneven.
"That you're the man," she whispered. "The one man that can make me feel."
He stared at her, not answering.
"You are the one, Nevada," she whispered. "I know it. I can feel it down inside me.
You can make me whole again. I’ll never be afraid any more." She turned her head again but his hand held her firm.
Her eyes were wide and desperate. "Please, Nevada, please.
Let me prove how I can love you!"
She began to cry again.
Suddenly, he got to his feet and went over to the fireplace. He stirred the coals alive, fed them kindling and another log.
A moment later, a crackling heat came sparkling into the room.
He turned to look at her.
She was still sitting on the floor in front of the couch, watching him.
Slowly he walked back toward her.
"When I asked you up here, Rina, I thought I was doin' the right thing." He sat down and reached for a cigarette.
Before he could light it, she held a match for him. "Yes, Nevada?" she questioned softly.
The flame glowed in his eyes and died as the match went out. "I ain't the man you're lookin' for, Rina."
Her fingers touched lightly on his cheek. "No, Nevada," she said quickly. "That's not true."
"Mebbe not," he said and a slow smile came over his lips. "But I figger I'm too young.
You see, all I want to do with you is – fuck, fuck, fuck!"
She stared at him for a moment and then she began to smile.
She got up quickly and took the cigarette from his mouth. Her lips brushed fleetingly against his for a moment, then she walked to the fire and turned to face him. She put the cigarette between her lips and inhaled deeply.
Then she made a slight movement and the robe fell to the floor.
The leaping fire turned her naked body into red gold.
Swiftly she threw the cigarette into the fireplace behind her and started back toward him.
"Maybe it's better this way," she said, coming down into his outstretched arms. "Now we can be friends."
8.
"THE SHOW'S IN TROUBLE," THE CASHIER SAID.
Nevada glanced at Rina.
She was looking out the window of the ticket wagon, watching the last act of the Wild-West show going on in the arena.
The faint sounds of the whooping and yelling drifted back to them on the still, warm air.
"How much trouble?" Nevada asked, his eyes coming back from her.
"Enough," the cashier said flatly. "We're booked in a week behind Buffalo Bill Cody's show for the whole summer. If these two weeks are any indication, we'll drop forty thousand this season."
A bugle sounding a charge hung in the air.
Nevada shifted in his uncomfortable wooden chair and began to roll a cigarette.