Paint a Pretty Rainbow Part 2/?
Rating: NC-17
Type: J2-AU
Warning: Angst, Romance and First Time
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing
Words: This part, 3430 words
Part: 2/?
Summary:
Owner of a corporate empire inherited from his father, Jared Padalecki is a talented architect, rich and successful but desperately lonely. Whilst looking at the site for his dream new development, he meets a man who will change his life forever. Can two lonely people break down the barriers of time and find love?
Author’s Note.
Loosely based on the musical Brigadoon (a favourite of mine) but I promise no singing or dancing and I moved the location to the depths of the US, away from Scotland.
I hope you enjoy.
Calysta
Previous
Paint a Pretty Rainbow
by Calysta
Part Two
Three months earlier ……………………
Jared was dreaming.
He let his whole body relax from his fingers to his toes, and dreamt. Dreamt of his latest development, allowing his mind to conjure up the design in glorious technicolour. Gone were the majestic trees standing tall and proud, sheltering and protecting the valley with their strength and power. Gone were the sweeping acres of greenery, and the bursts of summer colours from the wild flowers swaying gently in the breeze that swept up and down the valley slopes softly caressing its beauty. The sparkling blue and silver colours of the river that snaked through the deep valley, the bright sunlight bouncing off the clear water disappeared, as Jared dreamt. They weren't important, and he ignored the beauty dismissing it as irrelevant to the concept in his head. Instead he let his mind wander, visualising the blueprint he had laid out on the grass at his side.
He knew it off by heart, had memorised every line. Every small detail was embedded in his mind, and Jared didn’t need to look at the blueprint to see the new township he planned on building on the land he had recently purchased. His architect’s mind traced the sharp and precise angles of each of the planned buildings, and he imagined them gleaming white in their newness rising up into the sky. Jared could see the large sprawling centre piece, a masterpiece of modern design and technology. Fashioned completely from glass and metal, the shopping mall with a large glass domed roof would house over one hundred and fifty outlets and six food halls. A parking lot would surround the building with spaces for over two thousand vehicles. The new building would be ultra-modern, light, airy and shopper friendly employing many new techniques of design and construction. The complex was an architect’s dream. Jared’s dream. The valley itself was vast, deep and sprawling, spreading out as far as the eye could see and beyond. It was a perfect location, and Jared had spent years looking for just the right piece of land and here it was, laid out before him.
Jared smiled as he saw the new town spreading out from the mall with inter-connecting straight roads leading to the main highway over seventy miles away. The road system had caused him a problem initially as the valley was in the middle of no-where, hidden from the world surrounding it, and seemed inaccessible but Jared had found a way he thought would work. His bulldozers would make short work of the valley sides, flattening and felling everything in their wake. Jared could picture it all - neat housing complexes, a series of modern condos positioned by a man-made lake and planned gardens, and elegant water features and fountains, placed at strategic locations for maximum impact and visual effect. It was his vision, his dream, and Jared was determined to oversee the project personally from start to finish. Jared smiled again to himself.
Jared was jolted out of his musings by a light touch to his shoulder. Startled, thinking he was alone, he snapped his eyes open and jumped to his feet, backing up slightly. Jared narrowed his eyes glaring at the man standing in front of him. “What the hell?” Jared said, trying to calm his thumping heart.
The old man peered at him through dark brown eyes giving him a small smile as he returned the stare silently. Jared squinted at the man, looking him up and down. Dressed in dirty jeans and a red checked shirt, the man was thin and withered looking with weather tanned skin and sharp angular features. Long grey hair framed his face and he wore a strip of red leather around his head. Jared nearly laughed - the man reminded him of every Native American he had ever seen in the movies. He bit back his laughter; Jared couldn’t guess the man’s age, but his bright eyes somehow seemed to belie his age. They were young, full of life, and were scrutinising Jared carefully. Jared fidgeted under the intense scrutiny.
The man smirked, and turned toward the valley. “Beteen biito’owu,” the man waved a hand at the valley below.
“Okay. Whatever,” Jared said slowly with a shrug.
“Beteen bitto’owu,” the man repeated taking a step toward Jared.
Jared sensed the man meant him no harm, but he took a step backward anyway, feeling really stupid at the fear curling in his stomach. “Do you speak English?” he managed to say. The man scowled turning his back on him. “Guess that means no,” Jared mumbled.
“He means you no harm,” a voice said from behind him. Jared started again idly wondering if everyone around these parts snuck up on unsuspecting people trying to give them heart attacks. He glanced over his shoulder scowling. Tall and tanned with his long dark hair touching the shoulders of his uniform, the local sheriff grinned back.
Jared had seen the sheriff at the town meeting that morning. He had done his homework, determined to be thorough in every aspect of the project. The nearest two towns to the valley, the ones that would benefit the most in Jared’s mind, were made up of a mixture of races, but the largest group were descended from Native American tribes, proud people, fiercely protective of their heritage and traditions, even though their native language and customs were slowly dying out as the younger generation moved onto to more modern aspirations.
Jared’s attendance at the meeting had been met with varying degrees of curiosity and animosity. The meeting hadn’t gone well, or as planned, and his proposals and enthusiasm hadn’t been entirely welcomed, and the meeting had been loud and confrontational with many opposing views, some for and some against the new town. The younger people of the town welcomed the development, but the older people hated it, were vociferous in their opposition giving all kinds of reasons. The sheriff had been a silent oasis of calm for which Jared had been grateful.
“Do you always sneak up on people?” Jared said, vaguely irritated.
The sheriff chuckled. “Sorry.”
“Beteen bitto’owu,” the older man waved at the valley again.
“He sure is persistent,” Jared said.
The sheriff chuckled again, moving to stand next to Jared. “He means you no harm. And I made him leave his tomahawk at home today,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Jared studied the amused expression, and gave a small smile back, his good humour returning. “Lucky for me,” he quipped. “So he doesn’t speak English.”
“Oh he understands you, but my stubborn old grandfather refuses to speak English,” the sheriff confirmed. “Believes that our language and customs are dying. That the young people don’t care enough to learn any more,” he explained. “And he’s right in a way. Our language, our way of life is slowly dying.”
“He looks like Cochise,” Jared couldn’t help saying, hoping that he wasn’t being rude. “Is he a chief or something?” he asked suddenly curious. “You know like Geronimo?”
“No,” the sheriff laughed. “And for the record, Cochise and Geronimo were both Chiricahua Apache. Cochise was a chief, but Geronimo was never a chief. He was just a well respected man among his people. A medicine man,” he explained.
“So you’re …?” Jared asked.
“Arapaho. Like most of the people around these parts, descended from the original tribe who were forced to move down here from the North. They even had to make a pact with former enemies, the Shoshone. They gave us a home here and we’ve been here every since,” the sheriff explained as he offered his hand to Jared. “Joe,” he introduced.
“Don’t you usually have a ... a spirit name or something? Like Running Bear or something?” Jared couldn’t help asking as he shook the sheriff’s hand. He blushed knowing he was probably being bad-mannered asking so many questions, but he was curious.
“Run With The Wind,” Joe replied with a broad smile. “I know it doesn’t look like I can,” he patted his rounded stomach. “And anyways I prefer Joe,” he said. “And my grandfather is Spirit Wolf,” Joe motioned to the older man.
Jared nodded. “Jared Padalecki,” he offered in return.
“Yeah I know,” Joe grinned again. “You’ve caused quite a stir in the town.”
Jared decided to ignore the comment, not really wanting to get into yet another argument. “So what’s he trying to tell me?” he asked instead, nodding at the older man. “That the land belongs to your people. That I have no right to be here.”
Joe shook his head. “This valley has never belonged to anyone. Not the Arapaho. Not even the Shoshone. Well, not until now. Now it belongs to you,” he gave Jared a hard look for a moment before shrugging. “The older people around here, like my grandfather, believe that the valley is sacred, that it belongs to the biiteii. That’s ghosts to you,” Joe explained with a smile.
“Ghosts,” Jared snorted in disbelief. He knew that the sacred land bit wasn’t true as he had carefully researched the area, mindful of local traditions, culture and land rights. “Just what I need, a bunch of ghosts.”
Joe gave a small shrug. “I grew up listening to the stories about the ghosts that live here. As a kid I soaked up the stories. Stories passed down from generation to generation by the story tellers of our tribe. Even believed them. My friends and I used to come here all the time looking for the ghosts. Never found them.”
“I don’t really believe in ghosts,” Jared said.
Joe smiled. “The older people of the tribe believe that the valley is sacred land. Not a burial ground, or any of that sort of thing. Just sacred. That’s what my grandfather is saying to you. Beteen bitto’owu means sacred land.”
“Great,” Jared hissed to himself.
“Don’t worry young man,” Joe patted his shoulder. “The Arapaho were generally known as a peaceful tribe in the past. We still are so they won’t give you any trouble.” He patted Jared’s back again, and spoke to his grandfather. The older man nodded, and joined Joe. He looked down the valley mumbling.
“What did he say?” Jared asked, intrigued despite his vague annoyance at the older man.
Joe frowned, turning to Jared. “He said that’s it’s nearly time, and then you will see, know that this land belongs to no-one.” The sheriff shrugged shaking his head. “My grandfather likes to be mysterious. But as I said he won’t cause you any trouble.”
The old man turned, giving Jared a hard appraising stare. “Learn,” he said in broken English. “Then may be you will believe,” he turned on Jared, and began to walk in the direction of the township.
Jared frowned at the older man’s back. “No trouble huh?” he cocked his head to one side.
Joe laughed lightly. “I promise to hide his tomahawk,” he quipped, turning to follow his grandfather.
“Thanks,” Jared gave a small wave before slumping to the ground again, lost in his thoughts, putting Joe and his grandfather firmly out of his mind. Jared glanced at his blueprints again, fingers them, before carefully folding the plans tucking them carefully into his holdall. Jared grinned
as he stared across the valley. His new purchase. The perfect location for his dream, the perfect town, with its straight lines, precise nature and tall wonderful modern buildings.
With a sigh, Jared leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He willed himself to relax again. Time ebbed, meaning nothing as Jared watched the sunshine blue sky slowly turn to an inky blue/black colour. He yawned, bone weary and tired from the day’s events.
A few hours later......
Jared woke with a start. He groaned as he shifted, the stark realisation he had fallen asleep on the hard ground, hitting him suddenly. Jared groaned again as he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He blinked rapidly in an effort to wake himself up, rolling his shoulders slowly in an effort to iron out the kinks in his aching back. Closing his eyes again, he cautiously moved his head from side to side rubbing at the tense muscles in his neck. “Note to self,” he murmured. “Don’t fall asleep on the ground.”
Jared opened his eyes again. Silence surrounded him, and Jared couldn’t help shivering despite the warmth in the air. He stared up at the sky. The inky blue blackness of night was turning to a reddish orange colour as morning began to dawn over the valley. Jared looked downward into the dimness. The early morning mist curled and undulated smothering the bottom of the valley in its ethereal veil as its snake-like tendrils crept over the grass and up gentle slopes, dew dampening the grass, trees and bushes.
Jared yawned long and hard brushing at his jeans absently. Something in his peripheral vision caught his eye, and he glanced downward. “What the hell?” he leapt to his feet, despite his protesting muscles. Jared blinked, rubbing at his eyes furiously. “No. No. I’m dreaming,” he told himself, rubbing at his eyes again.
Jared could feel the scream rising in his throat, but he pushed it down as he stared down into the valley. The mist seemed to swirl, dissipating with the light breeze, up into the air, releasing its hold of the valley and its greenness. As the haze slowly disappeared, Jared was convinced he could see lights in the distance. He squinted, and could just about make out the unmistakable shape of houses looming out of the mist, their lights shining out into the dimness deep in the valley. Jared closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again hoping against hope he was dreaming. The lights still flickered in the distance, and Jared swore he could hear a dog barking. Definite evidence of a town waking to greet the new day. “No. No. It’s gotta be a dream,” Jared muttered as he grabbed his holdall, slung it over his shoulder, and started to slip slide, in the wet grass, down the side of the hill toward the apparently awakening township.
The dimness of early morning and the sunrise had been chased away by the blueness of the morning sky when, half an hour later, Jared skidded to a halt at the bottom of the valley. His heart pumped in his chest, his mouth was dry, his mind whirled with all kinds of possibilities, but all Jared could think about was his dream was in danger. In his head, he could see and hear his beautiful tall beautiful buildings crash down into the dusty ground disappearing in a cloud of dust.
Slightly panicked, Jared scanned the area looking for an explanation. His eyes came to rest on a small stone bridge over the stream he hadn’t noticed before. He jogged onto the bridge, absently noticing that intricate carvings fashioned into the stone. Jared stopped on the hump of the bridge and looked around, squinting in the sunlight. He worried his lips with his teeth - he wanted and needed answers. Jared put his hand up, shielding his face from the sun. Two fields over, he could see a man. Mind made up, Jared started to jog toward the field, and the answers he hoped he would find, deciding it was as good as any place to start.
Five minutes later......
As Jared neared the field, he saw the man was not alone. Two horses, one black and one white, stood waiting patiently as the man fiddled with some leather strapping on the white horse’s flank. Jared was surprised to see an old-fashioned battered plough secured by more leather strapping to the horses’ tack. He frowned confused. “Excuse me,” Jared said, digging into his holdall to retrieve his map.
“Morning.”
Having retrieved his map, Jared looked up. His breath caught in his throat distracting him for a moment, and leaving him speechless. The man smiled at him. He was probably the most beautiful creature Jared had ever laid eyes on. He swallowed hard, suddenly flustered, letting his gaze roam up and down the man’s body. He was dressed in dark brown pants with black leather braces, a white shirt half un-tucked with the sleeves pushed up weather tanned arms. The shirt collar was open revealing an elegant neck. The man was slightly shorter and leaner than Jared, but his body was well-defined and muscular. A narrow waist and hips tapered down to longish slightly bowed legs. His dirty blonde hair was short and unruly, and his skin was lightly tanned with a light blush of sunburn on his cheeks. His features were somehow sharp and soft at the same time. A smudge of dirt on one cheek made him look vaguely child-like, and the sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks accentuated the overall child-like impression. He had pouty, almost girlish, lips and the most beautiful jade green eyes Jared had ever seen. Green eyes that were now staring at him, amusement sparkling in their depths.
Jared could feel the heat of a blush spread over his face and down his neck. He shook himself out of his stupor, dragging his gaze away from the man. He cleared his throat several times as he glanced down at his map desperately trying to distract himself, and trying to remember exactly what it was he was going to ask the man. Jared fumbled with the map sensing the man was still looking at him, curious.
“You won’t find our town on any map,” the man said, his tone deep. And sexy, Jared’s mind added helpfully.
Jared jerked his head up, glaring. “Every town is on a map,” he snapped.
“Not this one my friend,” the man answered, with a boyish grin.
Jared fumbled with the map again, still slightly flustered by the man’s presence. “That’s pretty big-headed of you,” he accused, finally finding the right piece of the map. He blew out a silent breath of relief.
“May be,” the man shrugged, his grin still in place, seemingly unaffected by the accusation. “Still won’t find us on your map.”
Jared glared and stepped forward toward the man, warily keeping an eye on the horses. He thrust the map at the man. “Just point where we are,” he said, stupidly irritated by the grin on the man’s face.
The large black horse stepped closer blowing out a long noisy snorting breath nudging at Jared. Jared stepped back startled, glaring at the horse.
The man chuckled. “Sorry. He don’t mean anything by it. Looking for apples most like.”
“I don’t have any apples,” Jared glared at the horse again. The horse snorted again making Jared jump back despite himself. He scowled at the horse.
The man patted the horse’s neck. “Play nice,” he whispered before wiping his hands on his pants. “Jensen Ackles.” He stuck his hand out, and tilted his head to one side.
“What?” Jared said, confused for a moment, intent again on the map.
“My name is Jensen, and you would be?” Jensen said, his hand still proffered.
Jared flushed under Jensen’s intense scrutiny. “Jared Padalecki,” he introduced giving Jensen’s hand a quick shake.
“Good to meet you Jared Padalecki,” Jensen smiled again. “Breakfast?”
“What?” Jared asked stupidly.
Jensen grinned. “I’ve been out here two hours and these guys,” he patted the large black horse. “Are about ready for some hay. And me, well I’m ready for some breakfast. And you look like you could use some too. Care to join me?”
“No,” Jared answered. His stomach growled reminding him he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning. “I’m not hungry,” he lied.
Jensen quirked an eyebrow at Jared. “Well Jared, if you change your mind, I’ll be in town, just along that dust road, about a mile and a half. There’s a small eating place at the far end of town. They do a pretty good breakfast.” With another smile, Jensen turned away from Jared leading his horses across the field toward a small ramshackle house with an adjoining barn.
“What about the map?” Jared shouted. He waved the map ineffectually in the air immediately feeling stupid.
“You can bring the map along if you like.”
Jared growled in the back of his throat. He turned around, on the spot, looking for someone else to ask for help but there was no-one. Jared slumped onto the ground. “I hate my life,” he cursed as he watched Jensen go into the barn. Jared lay back staring up at the sky.
Part Three