by Inez Kelley
“Joni, come on. Hurry.”
Jonah didn’t budge. For what seemed like an eternity, he and the snake stared at each other, only the flickering tongue and the ominous rattled-tail moving. Zury’s fingers dug into the rock edge, her eyes locked on the confrontation happening just five feet from her, on the other side of age-old stone.
“Ten cuidado. Please, be careful.”
Over the rattle and rapid clip of her heartbeat, Zury realized Jonah was talking. Soft, almost seductively, he whispered not to her, but to the rattler. She strained to hear his words.
“‘Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.’”
He kept repeating the words, moving steadily and slowly. Zury’s eyes went wide as she realized he wasn’t moving away from the reptile but closer to it.
“What are you doing? Jonah, get away from there!”
The words fell from his lips in an unceasing cadence. The snake’s head bobbed in time, its tongue flicking faster and faster as if trying to catch each note. Jonah’s hand curled around the snake, lifting it from the rock. It stretched at least four feet in length and its rattle-ribbed tail danced in the air before twining around his arm.
Zury cursed and dug into her pocket for her phone. She didn’t dare take her eyes off him to check for a signal but prayed there was one so she could call for help once he got his crazy ass bitten. His mouth never slowed as he walked through the entranceway. Zury scrambled back, out of his path.
Never looking her way, he headed toward the woods, carrying the still rattling snake. The shaking tail drowned out his words but she watched his lips move as he knelt and released the snake. It stared at him for a long second, then flicked its tongue and slithered away.
Jonah walked backward for three paces then turned toward her. Despite his cocky smirk, his hands trembled as they reached for her. She was in his embrace before she could draw another breath. The solid feel of him seeped into her bones, slowly quieting her twanging nerves. This could have turned so ugly, so deadly, but he was safe now.
Safe and in her arms.
The idiot.
She smacked his shoulder. “What the hell was that?”
“Luke 10:19.”
“I don’t care if it was Chanel No. 5!” She threw up her hands, shoving away from him. “Estúpido. Tú estás loco pa’l carajo.”
“I can take a wild guess what estúpido means. Loco is crazy, right? Well, both those have been said before.”
“What the hell were you thinking? No, forget I asked.” She fumed at his sheer recklessness. “You weren’t thinking. You could’ve gotten bit.”
His mouth worked but no sound came. Suddenly, she noted his complexion. His skin had a pale green cast to it and sweat lined his brow, dipping down onto his cheeks. Violent shivers erupted, shaking his entire body.
“Joni?”
“Give me a minute.” He squatted, dropped his face into his hands, and sucked in a noisy breath.
Zury hurried over, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay.”
“Holy sweet fucking hell, I can’t believe I did that.” He reached up and gripped her forearm around his neck, holding on tightly. His laugh was self-effacing. “Talk about a dumb-ass thing to do. I must be more tired than I thought. I didn’t think about what I was doing, just went on automatic. Handling those things always scared the shit out of me.”
“You’ve done that before?”
“Yeah. I think I’m going puke.”
“No, you’re not.” Petting his hair, she murmured soothing words in both English and Spanish, keeping her voice steady and soft. Several deep breaths later, his shudders slowed to a stop.
He stood. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to go all pussy-assed wimp on you.”
Her fist smacked into his arm. “Stop it. It was just a delayed reaction to an incredibly stupid move that could have gotten you killed.”
“Maybe not. I’ve—” He clamped his lips shut, the muscles in his jaw bunching. “Never mind. Let’s head down.”
“I’m not going anywhere so start talking.”
He scrubbed his face. “Drop it, okay?”
She plopped to the ground, her legs crisscrossed.
“Now you’re being childish. Get up.”
Pointedly ignoring him, she started pulling blades of grass loose and shredding them.
“Zury, come on.”
“No hablo inglés.”
“No hablo? Jesus, your middle name should’ve been Mule, know that?” His eyebrows nearly met above his eyes. “Fine. I’ve seen some people bitten by rattlers and they didn’t die, even without treatment. They got sicker than a drunk dog, ended up with scars and mangled hands, but they lived. Satisfied?”
“When did you see that?”
His shoulders slumped. Jamming his hands into the back pockets of his pants, he turned and faced the woods. “Growing up. My dad had snakes, lots of them. He used them in his sermons. Can we go now?”
So many thoughts jumped in her brain that she couldn’t speak. She nodded and, when he stretched out his hand, let him tug her to her feet. She followed him down the path while her mind raced.
West Virginia was one of the few states that hadn’t outlawed snake handling as part of religious services, but Zury’d never met anyone who’d actually seen it in action. She had a healthy respect for all wildlife, especially the lethal parts. Bears, bees, snakes, she respected all of them, from as far away as she could get. Every single nature class and lecture at the Falls preached caution and avoidance. She couldn’t imagine anyone willingly picking one up.
Okay, so she’d just seen Jonah do it, but he’d nearly broken down afterward in delayed fear. Fear was a smart thing in her book.
She watched his broad shoulders as he strode down the trail. He’d handled snakes before, but she’d bet her last nickel it hadn’t been by choice, not with the reaction he’d just had. Why would his father make him do that when he was clearly frightened? Old prejudices she hadn’t realized she held bubbled to the surface. Snake-handling religions were mostly backwater hillbilly crap that educated people had left behind. It seemed almost primitive, the use of snakes, charms and faith healing, and the shunning of all those outside their small circles.
Jonah had grown up in that environment? Thinking like that gave her a headache. He was to savvy, too polished and erudite to fit into that skewed mold.
“Was your father the one you saw get bitten?” The question slipped off her tongue before she could catch it.
“Yeah, couple times.” Jonah never slowed.
“Did he get treatment?”
“Nope. If it’s God’s will, he lives. If not, he dies.”
Present tense. He spoke in the present tense, not in the past. “Is he still preaching?”
His bark of a laugh was angry. “He’ll preach until he’s cold and stiff.”
“Did he—”
He stopped so abruptly, she slammed into his back.
“I don’t want to talk about him or my past any more. He’s a fanatical crackpot who beat his wife and his kids.” He screwed up his mouth, as if surprised and furious he’d let those words escape. “Just stop, all right?”
Beat his wife and his kids. Pity swelled in her throat. It made her reply feather soft. “All right. Sorry.”
Hand in hand, they trekked down the hillside, each lost in thought. Although he’d been the one to claim he could read her mind, it wasn’t hard to tell that Jonah was thinking far too many thoughts about his childhood. The scowl never left his face.
Chapter Eight
Per the Arbor Day Foundation, “one mature leafy tree produces as much oxygen in a season as ten people inhale in a year.”
It takes one tree every year per person to meet their needs for paper, packaging, lumber, fiber compounds and panel products.
Whistling along with the radio, Jonah pulled into his assigned slot and killed the engine. His phone chirped with an incoming text that silenced his tune but brought a smile to his face.
Te comiera a besos
What?
LOL wntd 2 say buenos dias
Jonah sighed. He wanted a good morning in person, with sleepy kisses while their sated skin rubbed against each other. Cold showers were fast becoming his norm but even the frigid water hadn’t prevented him from dreaming of her late at night. His hand would automatically slip inside his boxers, stroking until her name tore from his lips.
Still, the past weeks had been some of the best ones he could ever remember just spending time with her. But he really wanted her.
Morning. 2nyt?
Can’t, spinning wheel class 7-9
:( 2mrw?
Deal. Will cook.
What?
Arroz con frijoles negros y pollo frito
Is that food?
White rice, black beans, fried chicken. —U bring beer
OK. Can I stay over? plz don’t make me beg.
MayB ;)
!!! Now I’ve got wood
Supposed 2. U work in lumber. :p
This 1 is all for U
Go to work, Slick.
He cleared the phone and exited his SUV with a bounce in his step. Maybe, finally, she was ready to sleep with him. God knows he had blue balls so bad Papa Smurf sympathized with him.
Jonah knew the minute he stepped into the main entrance that something had happened. One of the secretaries said Webb was waiting on him when he didn’t have a meeting scheduled. He glanced at the clock. It was barely eight o’clock. He dropped his stuff in his office and headed toward Webb’s with the sinking feeling that this impromptu meeting was going to be a bad one.
The idea solidified when he walked through the door. The air was artificially cooled but the atmosphere was heavy with fury. Webb’s jaw was tighter than shrink-wrap and Bob’s painted fingernails flew over her keyboard. Matt sat ramrod straight in his seat, his forearms bunching and flexing. No one would look directly at him.
“What happened?”
Webb’s glare latched on to him. “Sit down.”
His ass had barely hit the chair when a digital tablet slid across the desk. An image of a rabbit stared at him, blissfully munching on a bit of grass. A twitch began next to his eye. “What’s this?”
“That is Sylvilagus obscurus, commonly called the Appalachian Cottontail.” Webb’s thumb drummed incessantly on his desk. “It’s the reason all harvesting has stopped at the Canyon.”
“What?” Jonah swiveled to Matt.
The logging manager held up a tri-folded paper. “The Terran Guards got an injunction against disrupting the habitat of a threatened species.”
Words stuck in his throat and he fought for air. No. This couldn’t be right. Zury Castellano wouldn’t have called in the Terran Guards. Hell, no respectable environmental activists would have anything to do with them. Every legitimate group had verbally condemned them as eco-terrorists. “They’re based out west. What’s the chance they’ll get involved on this side of the country?”
“They’re involved now.” Webb tossed his reading glasses on the desk and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had a bitch of a headache.
Jonah fished the travel bottle of ibuprofen out of his pocket and tossed it to him. “They don’t have a leg to stand on. We had all wildlife cleared. The state biologist signed off on all the permits.”
“They found someone stupid enough to listen to their snow job and with enough clout to shut us down.” Pushing away from his desk, Webb strode to the wet bar in the corner and grabbed a water bottle. He downed half of it with a handful of tablets.
Matt growled. “I’ve got three dozen men on two different cutting sites twiddling their damn thumbs over a stupid fucking rabbit that is more threatened by hunting season than my crews. If Redbear’d done his damn homework, he’d see we’re actually increasing the rabbit population by creating more dens and interrupting predator patterns.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Webb was no less imposing in his company polo and Dockers than in his power suits. He pressed the water bottle to his forehead. “It’s an annoyance tactic. He has no legal grounds so he’s trying to stir a public outcry about the big bad lumber company killing all the cute little bunnies.”
“Kayla thought they were cute too until they destroyed her cabbage crop.” Matt snorted. “Now she has a great rabbit stew recipe.”
Webb’s half smile was resigned. “Matt, hire security for the logging sites.”
“Armed?”
“I don’t want them carrying daisies. I refuse to lose one single man to the Terran Guards.”
“Do you really think they’ll come to West Virginia?” Matt voiced the question that Jonah had feared.
“If they’re starting legal paperwork, I’d bet my ass they show up eventually.”
“Then I’m on it.” Matt left a pile of sawdust on the chair as he stood up. His dark brows drew tightly down. “Jonah, why don’t you bring your new girlfriend to dinner tonight?”
Jonah blinked at the abrupt change of topic. “She’s busy tonight.”
“Tomorrow then. Bring her. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” With that enigmatic statement, he left, slamming the office door shut.
The leather captain’s chair groaned as Webb dropped into it. He leaned back and pressed a fist to his mouth, his hardened stare digging into Jonah. “So far this is contained. I want it to stay that way. Work your magic, pretty boy.”
“If you have a Harry Potter wand up your ass, share it because this is a nightmare.” Jonah flicked the tablet. “He couldn’t pick an ugly animal like a slug or a tick? Statistically speaking, the more socially appealing an animal is, the harder the outrage is to combat. Can we shut him up through the court system?”
“You bet your butt I can. He messed with the wrong chick,” Bob muttered, never taking her eyes off her screen. “Give me time and I’ll bury his injunction so far up his ass he’ll shit legalese for a month. Redbear’s a phony. The guy’s real name is Taylor and he has no Native American blood at all. Any affiliation is in his twisted sadistic mind. Several Native Tribes have publicly denounced him.” She arched one perfectly sculpted brow. “Wonder if any of them still practice scalping?”
Bob was beautiful but when she got her dander up, it was like a tornado ripping through a cornfield. Her normally buried southern accent kicked up the higher her anger got. Right now, she sounded like a bastardized version of Scarlet O’Hara.
Jonah’s eyes fell to the image that seemed so harmless but threatened to needlessly derail a multimillion dollar project. His forearms clenched as his hands curled into fists. No way in sweet fiery hell was he letting that happen with Hawkins Hardwood.
The next seven hours were packed with phone calls, text messages and brainstorming. Jonah and Bob camped in the main conference room with yellow legal pads, three laptops and phone lines stretched between them. Office staff brought lunch in for them but neither touched the delivery from McCreedy’s Diner. The spicy scent of Molly’s homemade chili, normally a favorite, made his gut twist.
Jonah loosened his tie and chewed half a dozen antacids. His mind spun with tactics while his heart sank lower and lower. Had Zury contacted the Terran Guards personally? He couldn’t believe that. Her passion was deep but it wasn’t mindless. As much as she wanted to stop the logging, she wouldn’t encourage a group that had killed before. They had to have just been drawn to the escalating protests. A surge of stomach acid burned his throat. Protests that Zury had sparked and was still encouraging.
Bob clicked her
phone off and ran her fingers through her dark hair. “All right, Judge Dempsey is set to review the case on Monday. With all our proof and clearances, he should nullify the injunction.”
“Most of the people I spoke to agreed to wait until the final ruling before publishing or airing any of Redbear’s bullshit. So far he hasn’t contacted any of them.” Jonah rubbed his stinging eyes then pulled his notes closer. “The state biologist is writing up yet another wildlife waiver. Department of Natural Resources is also sending over a statement of a larger Appalachian Cottontail population farther south of the Canyon, and I have a call into the U.S. Forestry Department chair. Worst comes to worst, we can ask him to agree to a weekly monitoring of the habitat impact.”
“Nice work.” Bob clicked a few keys then grew silent. “Well, shit. Marlington Post just posted a story about Hawkins Hardwood slaughtering baby bunnies. And USANews has one on the destruction of animal habitats by lumber companies, using Hawkins as their example.”
“Fuck,” Jonah moaned. “Know what I’m working on tomorrow.”
“Good. I think we’re as ready as we can be at this point. It’s a waiting game.” She pushed away from the table and crossed her legs. “How’s Ms. Castellano?”
His pen froze an inch above the paper. “Fine, why?”
“Just asking.” Bob’s cat-slanted eyes tapered. “You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with her, I hear.”
“Is that a problem?”
“You tell me.”
“No, Bob, you tell me.” Defenses snapped into place like Legos and he drew his shoulders back, prepared to challenge her every point. “Hawkins hasn’t ever been interested in my private life before. Why are you asking now?”
She carefully laid her stylus on the glossy cherry table. “How do you think the Terran Guards learned of the Black Cherry Canyon project? It wasn’t by magic owl. Your new girlfriend emailed them.”