Jennifer landed on her dignity, and then was up in a flash, yelling at the top of her lungs.

“Wait a minute! This is supposed to be touch football. That’s illegal, you can’t tackle anybody in this game!”

The onlookers were delighted. They stamped their feet and clapped, roaring their approval. Lee stood by, looking mysteriously smug, and hung his head when the referee came over to give him a tongue lashing. Jennifer told Tom to replace her and walked off the field.

The nerve of him, pouncing on her like that. She retied her sneakers, sitting on the staff bench, yanking at the laces viciously. When she raised her head again, Lee was standing in front of her.

“They threw me out of the game,” he said happily.

Jennifer stared at him, the light beginning to dawn. “You did that deliberately,” she said.

“Pure reflex. Couldn’t help myself.”

“I’ll bet.”

“However, since we both seem to be at liberty, why don’t we take a stroll around the grounds?”

“Stroll alone. After that little stunt I wouldn’t go around this bench with you.”

His face changed. “What’s the matter? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Only my pride.”

He smiled engagingly, and she could feel her resistance melting away under the force of his charm. “Come on. This thing is going to be breaking up in another half an hour or so, and then they’re having a picnic. We’ll come back and get something to eat later.”

The desire to be with him overrode her previous annoyance. “I’m doing this against my better judgment,” she warned him. “The minute I lower my guard you’ll probably blindside me again.”

“Sounds tempting,” he said, motioning with his head toward the grassy copse beyond the playing field. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you about my great-grandfather, the shaman. That should interest a student of Indian folklore like yourself.”

It did. “What’s a shaman?”

“A medicine man, a caster of spells and a weaver of charms. Combination faith healer, herbalist, and grass-roots psychologist.”

They were walking away from the crowd, and the game noises faded in the distance. The sun was warm, and Lee pulled his shirt over his head to reveal a sleeveless tank top underneath. He spread the skivvy on the ground and gestured for her to sit on it She did, and he sprawled full-length beside her. A screen of trees blocked them from view.

“What kind of charms did your great-grandfather weave?”

“All kinds. Love charms, hate charms, charms to make you sick, charms to make you well. His specialty was healing, though. He would put on his saamis, the medicine hat, with feathers and magical bones, and cure anything that ailed you. He died when I was twelve.”

Too bad he’s not around today, Jennifer thought I could use a little help in curing myself of my growing infatuation with you. She stretched out on the grass and sighed.

Lee rolled over on his stomach and the sun glinted off his shining, coal-black hair, making it glow with highlights.

“That old man, he knew something, something that’s been lost forever now,” Lee said softly. “And I don’t think it’s possible to get it back.”

“I understand what you mean,” Jennifer replied. “That knowledge the old people had, I think we traded it for jet planes and microwave ovens and potato chips in a tennis ball can. And I’m not sure we’re better off now. The problems aren’t solved; they’re only different.”

Lee pushed himself up on his forearms and gazed down into her face. “I think you’re a very smart lady,” he said.

“Thank you, kind sir,” she answered, smiling. Her smile faded slowly as she met his gaze and awareness grew between them. Jennifer was very conscious of his almost naked torso above her, the proximity of that powerful, agile body. She tried to sit up, and he pinned her, holding her arms and leaning into her. Prone, submissive, she could feel the warmth of his skin against hers, his breath fanning her cheek. The black eyes seared hers. Then his lashes obscured them as his face came closer and he lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss began tentatively, as all first kisses do, but it was only seconds before Jennifer was kissing him back passionately. She had known all along that she desired him, but the abstract idea was nothing compared with burning reality. His mouth was wonderful, drugging, sensitive and mobile, and a treasure of delights to explore. His tongue probed hers, and she yearned against him, eager for more.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I met you,” he murmured, moving his mouth to her ear, and then back to her lips. He adjusted his position to lie more fully against her, and she gasped as she felt him, ready, against her thigh. His hands slid underneath her to press her to him, and she clasped her arms around his neck.

He raised his head and looked around, and Jennifer realized with alarm that he was checking to see if anyone was watching them, if it was safe to make love to her there, hidden in the small, enclosed wood.

Jennifer began to struggle. The man was mad. If he thought she would be a partner to an outdoor romp in the middle of a park, he was in for a rude awakening.

“Let me go,” she demanded, and he released her instantly, rolling off her. She struggled to her feet, brushing bits of leaves and grass and other debris from her clothes. She felt ridiculous, ashamed.

He stood also, with his hands jammed in his pockets, his hair falling forward over one eye.

“What are you so upset about?” he asked. “I kissed you. You kissed me back.”

Of course, Jennifer thought. He did this sort of tiling all the time.

“Why did you push me away?” he wanted to know.

“You may be in the habit of casual rolls in the hay during coffee breaks, but I certainly am not,” Jennifer said.

His eyes narrowed. “Is that what you think?” he asked. “That I was promoting a pleasant interlude until it’s time to dish up the potato salad? Grab you, and then grab a hamburger?”

Jennifer’s silence was his answer.

He was starting to look very upset. His eyes were flashing sparks, and she could see that the hands in his pockets were balled into fists.

“I seem to have misjudged the situation here,” he said softly.

“That makes two of us,” Jennifer replied nastily.

“Always the smart comeback,” he said. “You’d better watch out, counselor; if you’re that sharp, you’ll cut yourself.”

Jennifer stared at him, then opened her mouth to speak, but nothing happened.

He held up a hand. “Let me say it for you,” he intoned. “You think I’m a lowlife and a user, and the sight of me makes you sick. That about cover it?”

She dropped her eyes. The sight of him could never make her sick.

“I’ll see you later, Jennifer. I think I’d better exit before I say something I’ll regret.”

Jennifer didn’t look up until he was gone.

* * * *

She spent the weeks following the picnic in a state of suspended animation, hoping for a glimpse of Lee and dreading it at the same time. Her fears were groundless. She never saw him and finally concluded that he was avoiding the Freedom’s offices. She knew she was right when she learned that he had had several things delivered there by messenger. He was taking no chances of running into her.

It was amazing how dull everything seemed now, without him. Events that once would have delighted her provoked little reaction. She had lunch with Harold Salamone, the owner of the Freedom, to discuss some business, which was unprecedented, and it did nothing to lift her spirits. At any other time such recognition would have left her elated.

But the time came when she had to contact Lee about the Labor Day parade and the visit to the children’s hospital which was scheduled for the same day. She worked herself into a nervous state over calling him, but when she finally did, she was surprised at her reception. He was pleasant and professional, acting as if nothing had happened between them. She felt as if she were in a time warp, and had somehow been transported back to the days of their initial acquaintance. She was relieved, and yet perversely disappointed, that he’d apparently forgotten the incident.