Page 50 of Native Hawk
He grinned. “So what do they look like, these…tortugas?’
“Tartufi.They are lumpy, like soft, brown stones.” She hastened to add, “But they are delicious. They are my favorite.”
“Uh-huh. And what do they taste like?”
“A sort of dark flavor,” she decided, “earthy, like the ground.”
“Mmm, sounds tasty,” he said with obvious sarcasm.
“Theyaretasty,” she insisted, giving him a playful shove. “You will see. I will find you some.”
“I don’t think we have ’em here.”
“No?”
“My father’s people ate just about everything it was possible to eat—lichen, bulbs, acorns—and yourtartufodoesn’t sound like anything they ever had.”
She sighed. That made her a bit sad. Already she missed the garlic and wine of her country, the pasta and gelato. She missed those familiar flavors almost more than she missed her friends.
“I’ll tell you what,” Drew said. “If I sniff any out, I’ll let you know. I have a nose like a sacred sow.”
She grinned. It was nice, talking with Drew like this. She almost forgot they were lying in bed together in their undergarments…
Until he shifted under the covers again and happened to nudge her thigh with his knee. “Sorry.”
She blushed. There was an awkward span of silence as she frantically tried to think of something to say. When she finally spoke, it was at the same time as Drew.
“What kind of—” she began.
“What made you decide to—”
“Sorry.”
“Go ahead.”
She cleared her throat. “What kind of clothings did you wear when you were a boy?” She’d seen drawings of natives with feathered headdresses and buffalo capes.
“Not much,” he said with a chuckle. “When the weather was good, I’d just traipse around in a loincloth and moccasins.”
Her blush deepened.
“When I was older, I dressed like the rest o’ the tribe—a deerskin around my hips and shells around my neck.”
“And a shirt?”
“Naw, no shirt.”
Catalina’s eyes widened. She tried to imagine what he looked like without his shirt. The picture in her mind left her speechless.
“But my mother made us shirts and trousers like the white folks too. We’d wear ’em when we went to town.”
“Why?” Catalina asked, though her thoughts were still whirling over the deerskin and shell necklaces.
“She didn’t want people teasin’ us.”
“Teasing you? Why would they tease you?”
“A lot o’ folks don’t much care for natives. They think we’re savages.”
