The Deep Wood (Sunshine Walkingstick Book 2)

by Celia Roman

  Jazz probably had a hand in that’un.

  If local folks was surprised to see me and Riley out and about, it didn’t show. They nodded and smiled and chitchatted with us like it weren’t no big deal for a Treadwell and a Carson to break bread together, let alone hold hands amongst a crowd of strangers.

  ‘Long and along, the wedding rolled around, and by then, I was ready for a stiff dose of action. Riley picked me up on Halloween night wearing a subtly woven brown, red, and gold plaid tweed sports coat over dark brown, sturdy slacks. He took one look at my dress and whistled long and low.

  I curtsied, an easy enough trick in my boots. “You like?”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said. “Turn around real slow.”

  I huffed out an exasperated breath, then turned around, showing off the front and back of my black Goth dress. It was fitted in the bodice and hips, then flared in asymmetrical, layered hems around my knees. The sleeves was fitted to the elbow, then widened into huge, trailing lengths of sheer fabric at my wrists. The front was cut low, ending its vee-neck around the top of my non-existent cleavage. I covered the bared skin with a handful of long necklaces picked up on the cheap at the Mall of Georgia. Missy’s ring, normally worn ‘round my neck the way she done, I left in my jewelry box. The back of the dress plunged down to just above my bra. Weren’t no covering that without ruining the line of the dress, which I figured I’d do anyhow with a jacket long about sundown when the air nipped and chilled.

  “BobbiJean helped me pick it out.” I turned all the way around, facing him again, and stuck one foot out, showing off my spit-shined boots. “She said since it was Halloween and Jazz was gonna be Jazz, it was ok for the guests to show up in costume.”

  “Well, you’re the first Cherokee woman I’ve ever seen wearing black lipstick.” Riley cupped his hands over my hips, leaned down, and brushed his cheek against mine. “Can I nibble it off during the first dance?”

  I smacked his chest playful like, then rested my hands there and fiddled with the lapels of his sports coat. “You’re all spiffied up.”

  “Not too much, baby,” he said, and his voice was low and hoarse and a little ragged. “How about we start the nibbling now?”

  “Only if you want me to punch you,” I said, but my own voice come out well shy of the tart I was aiming for.

  I rounded up a change of clothes and a jacket, along with the two quarts of home-brewed corn liquor Fame sent down by Gentry for the festivities and a proper present for the happy couple. Riley drove with the understanding that I’d drive back so he could sneak out and sip hooch with the boys. I didn’t mind. Fame’s moonshine went well beyond my tolerance for liquor. A coupla sips done me in ever time. Reckon that’s what I got for being so dadgum scrawny.

  The ceremony was being held at a property owned by one of Jazz’s cousins up in Dillard, alongside a picturesque, gently descending series of waterfalls. When Riley pulled up, guests was mingling among the hay bales arranged in rows in front of a laurel arch decorated in silk autumn leaves colored red, gold, and green. Pumpkins of all sorts was stacked here and there in large piles, intermingled with gourds fresh and dried. A local band was already set up on the makeshift stage fronted by a row of jack o’ lanterns wearing an assorted variety of faces from sweet to demonic. As we got out, somebody was going from one carved shell to the next lighting candles hid deep inside.

  We wedged ourselves into a spot halfway back from the arch, sandwiched between a couple in their Sunday best and another dressed as matching scarecrows. I listened with half an ear to the soft conversations whirling around us whilst Riley chitchatted with the guy in front of him, an acquaintance from work, I gathered.

  “…saw a mountain lion down on Germany,” the guy said.

  My attention perked up. I leaned into Riley a mite, trying hard not to be too obvious about eavesdropping.

  “Seriously?” Riley said. “When?”

  “About two weeks ago. Said it was the biggest one they’d ever seen.” Something off to the side drawed the man’s gaze. He lowered his voice and added, “I went down Patterson Gap Road and searched for that dead panther. Couldn’t find it.”

  I frowned. Me and David marked that spot well. Shoulda been pretty obvious where it was to anybody familiar with the area.

  Riley shrugged. “Maybe another animal dragged it off to eat.”

  “Probably. Hey, but let me know if you hear of another large cat around here. We’re tracking them…”

  I tuned their conversation out and chewed over the news just imparted. Wouldn’t a scavenger eat the painter where it lay soon as it was found, instead of running the risk of something bigger and meaner coming along and claiming the feast?

  The preacher come out right then decked out in a Catholic priest getup, earning a spatter of laughter amongst the crowd what knowed him to be Presbyterian. Jazz stepped up wearing a surprisingly well-fitting black tuxedo with tails and nary a spot of paint, though he sported a rainbow colored wig over his normally untidy locks.

  The bridal march floated through the air, and finally, out walked BobbiJean holding her daddy’s elbow in one hand and a dahlia bouquet in the other. She and Jazz glanced at each other, and it was like watching the rest of the world fall away, the love was so deep in their eyes.

  Envy speared into me and I looked down at my knees. Some folks, like Jazz and BobbiJean, was destined to find everlasting love, and some folks wasn’t. I knowed exactly which camp I fell into.

  Riley snuck an arm around me and squeezed me close. I swallowed down the self-pity eating away at me and focused on my friends’ happiness. It was Halloween, my best feller was by my side, and two of the kindest people I ever met was getting married. Them was good reasons to enjoy the moment whilst it was upon me.

  The ceremony was beautiful, maybe because it was so unique. The preacher said his piece, then Jazz recited a lyrical poem he wrote, and BobbiJean simply said, “I’m gonna love you forever, James David Pruitt, but if you don’t start picking up your socks, there’s gonna be hell to pay.”

  Ever body laughed as Jazz swooped BobbiJean up and swung her around, mouth firmly planted on hers, then the preacher pronounced them husband and wife, and before I knowed it, I was on my feet laughing and hollering and clapping right along with ever other body there.

  The band struck up a saucy tune soon as Jazz and BobbiJean walked down the hay bale sided aisle, and Riley introduced me to his friend as night swooped down and kissed us with its grace.

  Soon as the happy couple finished walking down the aisle hand in hand, the band switched to a sappy tune about love and life and happy ever after. Riley excused us to his friend, then led me over to the packed earth dance floor and swung me into his arms.

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment all week long,” he said.

  I snickered. “Yeah, right. More like you been waiting for the hooch to be passed around.”

  “That, too.” He tightened his grip on my waist and inched me closer. “I like holding you.”

  What a coincidence. I liked holding him, too. He towered over me tonight like always. His auburn topped head nearly brushed the sky from my lowly perspective. I placed a hand over his heart, over all the good accumulated during his life, and measured the steady thump of it against my own.

  “What are you thinking?”

  His voice was low and husky, and oddly arousing. I shook my head, maybe to disrupt the feelings I got ever time he was near, maybe ‘cause I didn’t know what was going on in my own noggin.

  “It’s ok,” he whispered. “We don’t have to talk.”

  And we didn’t, through that song and the next as he inched me closer and closer under the cover of the music and the people dancing around us, cuddled up under the starry sky the same way we was.

  At the beginning of the third song, a tanned hand tapped Riley’s shoulder and an accented male voice said, “This dance is promised to me.”

  Riley glanced around, and I got a good look at the interruption. Teus
stood behind him dressed in what passed for casual among the deity set, I supposed, a long-sleeved, dark blue polo and khakis.

  I hid my face in Riley’s chest. “Oh, for crying out loud. I done no such thing.”

  “It’s ok, baby.” Riley jiggled me and waited ‘til I raised my face up to his before continuing. “Jazz just came out of the bathroom. I’m gonna say hey.”

  “More like sneak some of Fame’s liquor,” I muttered, and he grinned and passed me off like it weren’t no big deal for another man to want a dance.

  Yet ever time David got near, Riley pitched a conniption. Where was the fair in that?

  I shook my head and obediently settled into Teus’ very proper hold. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Manners, Sunshine.”

  “I got ‘em,” I replied, real cheerful like. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He glanced down at me, expression hid in the scant light thrown by jack o’ lanterns and the bonfire somebody got going during the first coupla dances. “I bought a sculpture from James a few years ago. We’ve become friends since then.”

  It took me a minute to figure out who he was talking about, and when I did, I eased back and cocked an eyebrow at him. “Jazz give you one of his folk art sculptures?”

  “I purchased it from him for a fair market price,” Teus said, enunciating each syllable.

  “But he sold it to you, Mr. High and Mighty?”

  “I have a great appreciation for the fine arts, something you would do well to cultivate.”

  I bit my lower lip, holding back laughter as best I could. Jazz painted ever thing what held still long enough to slap pigment on it, and he didn’t care what he painted neither. That’s how BobbiJean ended up with a pair of jeans decked out in roosters and Jazz wore coveralls decorated with the male member in various poses. His sculptures weren’t no different. Irreverent was maybe too mild a word for Jazz’s imagination.

  When I was dead sure I weren’t gonna laugh, I said, “I’ll get right on that.”

  “Sarcasm is unbecoming a woman of your stature, Sunshine.”

  The laughter bubbled over then, couldn’t help it. “My stature? As what, a no account half-breed?”

  Teus’ expression hardened to stone. “Never again demean yourself in that manner. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get you.” Though how telling the truth equaled running myself down, I had no idea. “Do you see the future or something, or do you just like picking on me?”

  “I have the gift of sight.”

  “So, what? You always see us dancing together?” I snorted, just to watch him curl his lip into that holier-than-thou sneer of his. Truth be told, it was kinda cute. Plus, I enjoyed the heck outta getting his goat. “Don’t seem too useful to me.”

  “I see other things, Sunshine,” Teus said, and his voice held that patient tone he used when he was trying to learn me something. “Are you still visiting the boy?”

  A chill gripped me, like somebody walked over my grave, and I stopped dead in my tracks. “Mind your own beeswax, Teus.”

  “I protect what’s mine.” He smiled down at me, gentle and not one whit sensual. “If I confess that you were right, will you promise not to tease me endlessly?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, pretending to think it over. Weren’t no thinking to do. ‘Course, I was gonna tease him, likely ever chance what presented itself. “Depends on what I got right.”

  “I am quite lonely.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Lacking in female companionship. The women around here are…”

  Boy, this was getting mighty interesting. “Go on,” I prodded.

  “Less than adequate.”

  I hooted out a laugh and tugged him back into the dance. “Is that your way of saying they don’t meet your high-falutin’ standards?”

  “Not in the least,” he said stiffly.

  “So where was I right in that?”

  “You’re not the one for me.”

  “Ah.” I relaxed in his embrace, pleased no end he’d finally realized he was sniffing at the wrong woman. “Must be tough being you.”

  “Sunshine.”

  The word was drawn out and long-suffering, like I been poking at him instead of just talking.

  “No, I mean it,” I continued. “How many female deities out there ain’t been claimed yet? Makes it kinda tough to get a date, huh?”

  “Indeed, and that is why I wish you to be my companion. You stimulate me.”

  I bit my lip again. Lordy, if this kept up, I was gonna wear a hole in it trying not to laugh. “Thank you.”

  “The offer is still open, should Ranger Rick forsake you.”

  “You been talking to David, ain’t you?”

  Teus tilted his head to the moon hanging low on the horizon. “He’ll be back soon.”

  “Is that one of them foretellings?”

  “I ran into him at the gas station. He was on his way to Atlanta to visit Gregory.” Teus dipped down and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek, then whispered, “Not every word is a foretelling, Sunshine, but the ones that are, you should heed.”

  Large, warm hands dropped on my shoulders. I peered behind me and caught a glimpse of a familiar sport coat.

  “Hey, baby,” Riley said. “Miss me.”

  “You have no idea,” I muttered, and Teus clucked his tongue and handed me over to a completely sober Riley.

  The night wore on in high revelry, and me and Riley enjoyed ever minute of it. When we wasn’t dancing or chatting with other wedding guests, we hit the buffet of gruesome looking treats made in honor of All Hallow’s Eve. There was bloody fingers, which turned out to be sugar cookies, eyeballs on a stick (cake pops), big hairy spiders (cupcakes with licorice for the spiders’ limbs), and all sorts of other treats.

  The punch was my favorite. Somebody throwed dry ice into it at some point, turning the fruit juice and sprite combo into a spooky fog. Hey, it matched my dress. For once, I fit right in.

  Riley preferred another sort of punch. He sneaked out here and there to sip at Fame’s moonshine, and come back a little happier ever time.

  ‘Long and along, the guests started drifting home, eventually leaving a dozen or so of us to celebrate midnight with the newlyweds. We huddled around the dying bonfire sharing tall tales, me wedged between Riley on my left and BobbiJean on my right, and enjoyed the fire’s crackling serenade as wood-burned smoke drifted over us.

  When the talk wound down a mite, I nudged her arm. “You was beautiful in that dress.”

  She rested her head against Jazz’ arm and beamed a happy, sleepy smile at me. “It was pretty, wasn’t it?”

  “The bride was beautiful.”

  “Aw, thanks, Sunny.” She glanced beyond me and lowered her voice. “When is your turn coming around?”

  Sorrow pierced my heart quick as a rattlesnake strike. I sucked in a harsh breath, let it out again. She meant well, she did, but BobbiJean hit a nerve with that’un. I scrambled for polite and finally landed on the truth. “We ain’t been dating long.”

  “But you’ve known each other forever.” She leaned into me and threaded her arm through mine, squeezing it as she spoke. “And the way he looks at you? Oh, Sunny. Any woman would be lucky to have a man like that.”

  I was happy to have Riley, truly, but I weren’t fool enough to believe it’d last long enough to become permanent. “He’s a good man.”

  “In love with a good woman.”

  I cut her a side-eyed glance. “You been sipping the hooch?”

  “Just a little. Thanks for bringing it.”

  “Fame insisted.”

  “I would say I’m glad, but I think that’s the reason I have to pee so bad.”

  A guffaw slipped outta me, and I laughed so hard, I swayed on the hay bale and bumped into Riley. He slid sideways, and I panicked and grabbed at him, and hauled him back into place with a little help from the guy sitting on his other side.

  “Easy now, big feller,”
I said.

  Riley grinned at me, a happy, not even close to sober smile. “I’m easy. Ain’t I easy, Jazz?”

  Jazz leaned around BobbiJean, his sloppy grin a close twin to Riley’s. “Easy as a whore in Las Vegas, man.”

  “Oh, my God,” BobbiJean muttered. “Come on, Sunny. Walk me to the bathroom. I don’t wanna go by myself in the dark and I am not leaving you here alone with these cretins.”

  I scrambled off the hay bale behind her, not an easy trick in my witchy Goth dress. I’d pulled on a jacket over it, but the night air weren’t so cold I needed pants, ‘specially around the fire. “It’s a wonder they’re still upright.”

  BobbiJean waved a hand at me. “Oh, pshaw. I’ve seen Jazz drink way more than he has tonight and be sober as a tick.”

  We walked down the hill along the graveled drive circling through the property, away from the faint light of the bonfire and the muted conversations holding court there. Halfway down, BobbiJean stumbled and grabbed my elbow. “I’ve been living here for over a decade now, and I still can’t get used to how dark the night is.”

  I hadn’t thought about it. Some things just was, like the sun rising and setting every day. “Moon’s still out. Stars, too.”

  “Oh, fat lot of help you are. I—” She jerked to a stop, her face turned toward the stand of trees rooted between the road and the water. “Did you hear that?”

  I held my breath and listened as I followed her gaze to the shadowed wood beyond the bathhouse. Crickets chirped in time to the rhythm of the river flowing gently over rock. A frog ribbeted here and there. The wind blew through the trees, stirring dry leaves and undergrowth.

  I opened my mouth to tell her weren’t nothing out of the ordinary out there when shadow moved against shadow and a pair of eyes blinked at us from the edge of the trees. BobbiJean screamed and clutched my arm, and before I could say spit, the shadow leapt forward and planted itself in front of us, and become a huge painter with coal black fur and eerie green eyes.

  BobbiJean clapped a hand over her mouth, not even close to stifling the mewl issuing from her throat.

  I froze. Hadn’t brought a gun with me and my knife was tucked into my boot. Of a certainty, that thing’d be on us long before I could draw it. I weren’t willing to risk mine nor BobbiJean’s life in the trying, wedding night or not, but what else could we do?