Erica gazed out the passenger window as they passed a large, impressive brick building. A fire truck and other official vehicles sat out front. “How’s Travis?” she asked abruptly. “You don’t say much about him.”
“We don’t have much to say to each other.”
Erica looked at James quickly. His wide, firm mouth had thinned a little, and the pain around his eyes couldn’t be hidden. She’d spent several days watching this man try to ignore the pain in his knee, and so she recognized the different type of pain in him now.
“Anything you want to talk about?” she asked.
“I told his wife I’d set her up in a house in Chicago if she’d divorce Travis and stay away for good.”
“Oh, James,” Erica said sadly.
“I guess I sound like a real SOB.”
“I don’t know. Were you doing it for Travis?”
“Yeah. After she left him the fifth time. Father and Grandfather tracked Travis up to the top of Rattlesnake Mountain—it’s a sacred place in the old legends—and they found him sitting there with a gun in his hands. I don’t know what he would have done to himself if they hadn’t brought him back home. When I heard what almost happened, I knew I couldn’t let my brother get to that point again.”
Erica let her breath out. “You’re a good brother, not an SOB.”
“Don’t ask Travis for an opinion.”
“I doubt that he’s stopped loving you. He sounds like a man who loves with great loyalty.”
“I hope so. It’s a tradition with us wolves.”
Erica turned her face so he couldn’t see her expression. “So once you take a mate, it’s for life, eh?”
“We try to work it out that way.”
“Good plan.” She was silent as he drove out of town and into the steep hills. “Where are we going?”
His voice was wicked. “To a wolf’s cave.”
THEY ENTERED THE shadowy coolness and gazed at walls etched with Cherokee letters. “This is where my great-great-great-grandfather hid from the soldiers,” James said softly. “Over one hundred and fifty years ago.”
Erica went to a wall, knelt, and reverently touched letters of a more familiar kind. “Amanda and James,” she read. When she looked up at James urgently, he knew he had to explain.
“I was named after him.”
“And Amanda was the Quaker missionary’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“She came up here and hid with him?”
“That’s what we think. Nobody’s sure. Grandpa says he remembers old stories that say she ran away from home to be with James against her parents’ wishes.”
Erica looked around sympathetically. “She must have suffered up here in the wintertime. They both must have.” She gazed at him with a jaunty tilt to her head. “So the only other James Tall Wolf in the family loved a proper but strong-willed white woman.”
James cast a troubled frown at her. Why had he brought her there? He’d simply wanted to show her how rough life had been for his ancestors, to give her a feeling for the past. Or was that all?
Suddenly he felt that he’d tricked himself into a dangerous situation, that forces beyond his conscious will were making him do reckless things.
James resisted the urge to look around for Little People.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.
He gave her the safe explanation he’d given himself.
“Thank you for sharing this with me,” she murmured softly. “It means a lot to me.”
James looked at her and felt a disastrous urge simply to surrender to the affection in those green eyes. He’d make love to her right there in that lonely, beautiful cave where the Tall Wolf family had begun so long ago. He’d bond her to him with her love for Cherokee history and her need for his touch.
And when she left him, he might be as Travis had been, lost and self-destructive with grief over a woman who’d never been destined to stay with him.
James said gruffly, “So your good buddy Drake was a defensive end at Tech, huh?”
He saw the light fade from her eyes. She smiled innocently and shrugged. “Yep.”
James leaned forward, scrutinized her hard enough to make her blink a few times, and said softly, “Doll, I’d have heard about a monster like him if he’d played defense at a college as important as Tech. Drake Lancaster sure as hell never did.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Right,” she said grimly. “I made it up.”
“The whole thing?”
“The whole thing. I met him about a minute before you walked in the room.” She lifted her chin and looked haughty. “You’re not the only one who can playgames.”
Lord, how he loved this woman’s spirit. If she botched things up, she simply admitted it and took the consequences. And what were the consequences? She’d been trying to make him jealous, and he’d never tell her how well it had been working before she’d made that revealing comment about Lancaster’s playing football.
“Why did you do it?” James demanded. He knew the real reason, but he had to hear the official one.
“To show you that I’m no wimp around men,” she retorted. “Now, go ahead and be annoyed, if you want to. I’m annoyed at myself. I’m not accustomed to stooping to such childish pranks.”
James opened the bag and pulled out a shelled acorn. “Any woman who attacks me with a hand drill, hits me with a stick, then throws cold water on me when I’m naked is no wimp.”
She looked startled by his good humor; then the affection came flooding back into her eyes. “You and I are friends. Nope, you can’t deny it anymore. You want it too. Pals. And because we know it’s never going to be any more than that, we can relax, okay?”
He felt bittersweet sorrow gather inside his chest like an empty mountain valley filling with blue mist.
“Okay,” he agreed solemnly, and sat back wondering why victory had never tasted less sweet.
CHAPTER 7
ERICA ROCKED SLOWLY in her chair and peered at an article in the quarterly history journal published by the tribe.
James lay on the porch near her feet, his head propped on a pillow. He was a very languid-looking wolf as he studied her medallion and awkwardly tried to copy the symbols onto a note pad that lay on his chest. Erica glanced at him, then glanced away, sighing at his effect on her heart rate.
They’d had a lovely friendship for three days; except for her constant state of lovesickness she thought the arrangement worked well.
More than ever he wanted to keep it platonic, judging by his sudden decision to dress like a character from Li’l Abner. He wore faded overalls sans shirt or shoes, he ruffled his hair and let its straight black strands do what they wanted, he smoked a long cigar every night after dinner, and he tromped around with grass stains on his feet.
Erica smiled ruefully. He thought he looked ugly to her that way.
Didn’t he know that overalls exposed a tantalizing expanse of his chest and shoulders and that there was something wonderfully indecent about the way they pulled tightly across his muscular rump? He also didn’t realize that she loved the scent of cigars, because her father had smoked them, and the fragrance brought back warm feelings of happiness.
Erica smiled helplessly. James’s hair shagged over his forehead in a handsome way when he didn’t brush it, and his bare feet were big, knotty, cute-ugly things.
“I wonder if my great-great-grandmother had to go on the Trail of Tears. It was worse than I ever imagined. Listen to this, Wolfman.”
“Hmmm?” he mumbled, and looked up at her. Erica snapped her mouth shut—half the time she felt like a slack-jawed trout around him—and went back to reading.
“Here’s the reprint of a letter written by an elderly lady who was a teenager at the time the Cherokees were removed to Oklahoma.
There was a woman of the Blue Clan who knew white people’s medicine. Her name was Katlanicha. She doctored people on the trail, but could not help so many who died from hunger and fever.
>
We called her Ghighau, Beloved Woman. A white man came and stole the Beloved Woman one night. Our people chased him, but his horse was too fast. There was great sadness in the camp. I don’t know what happened to the Beloved Woman. She was very pretty, and the man probably sold her. Sometimes that happened to pretty Cherokee women.
Erica put the journal down and stared into space, thinking. “What an awful fate. Sold into some kind of bondage, I bet. Maybe to a bordello.”
“Think positive. Maybe she escaped.”
“I hope so. Poor woman.”
The sound of a car made them both look toward the driveway. Echo’s deluxe station wagon rolled into sight.
“Nice wheels,” Erica said. “Wonder what ex-football player with lots of money gave it to her for her birthday last year?” She gazed up at James as he came to stand beside her chair. “You’re a sweet guy, even if you do talk dirty to old maids.”
He tried to resist, but finally he smiled at her nonsense. “You love it.”
Echo parked and got out, moving wearily. Her hair was carelessly braided down her back, and she wore a rumpled sundress with old tennis shoes. Erica studied her anxiously, and when she glanced up at James, he looked worried too.
“Hi,” Echo said as she walked to the porch. “I need to talk.”
“Here, sit down.” Erica moved to the floor.
James hugged his sister and looked shrewdly at her pinched face. “It’s about Lancaster,” he said grimly.
She lifted her chin and frowned at James in warning. “I love him. I know he’s an outsider and we haven’t known each other long, but don’t say it’s a mistake.”
To Erica’s surprise James only squeezed her shoulders and said, “I understand. It happens that way sometimes.”
Erica buried her anguish behind a stoic mask. He spoke with such experience. Whom had he loved so deeply and so quickly?
He guided Echo to the chair and sat down at her feet, his legs crossed. “What is it, sis?”
But Echo had turned her attention to Erica. “What else do you know about Drake Lancaster? Anything besides what he told you the other day?”
Erica shook her head. “Do you suspect that he’s not telling the truth? I know what he said about my cousin Tess is true.”
Echo rubbed tired eyes. “All I know is that yesterday he took a pack horse and rode up into the national forest. And when he came back the pack horse had been unloaded. He goes off by himself for about fifteen minutes every afternoon at six. He’s renting a room over near the Nantahala outfitters—one of those places where people stay while they kayak on the Nantahala River. But he won’t let me visit it. Says it’s too cheap, too messy.”
James looked a little perturbed at the idea of his little sister, though full grown and previously married, visiting a man’s room. But he said without rebuke, “So where do you go?”
Echo looked just as perturbed. She cleared her throat. “He took a better room over at one of the inns. But he kept the other room. It doesn’t make sense. And he won’t talk about his research at all. Says it’s dull. Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
Erica sighed with resignation. “Yes, and I’m afraid something else is odd.” She told Echo about Drake’s confident way of handling false identities.
Echo put her head in her hands and made a soft sound of despair. “I’m afraid he’s into something illegal,” she said wretchedly. “Maybe drug running? I don’t know.” When she looked up there were tears on her face. “And he says he loves me, but I think he’s got someone else.”
James vaulted to his feet and began to pace. “What makes you say that, sis?” he asked in a lethal tone.
“He …” Echo swallowed hard and looked at Erica for moral support. Erica reached out and took her hand. “In one of his tote bags I found a brand-new bra. One of those really racy, see-through things. Not my size. It was a gift for someone. It had a pink bow tied to one strap. And I found a box of condoms with a blue bow tied around it.”
“Maybe he’s invited to a, ummm, coed bachelor party,” Erica said lamely.
Echo shook her head. “He’s a loner. He says he doesn’t need to know anyone around here except me.”
James stopped by the chair and looked down at her, a muscle flexing in his jaw. “Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. That’s what big brothers are for. I’ll go talk to this character—”
Echo gasped. “James, I love you dearly, but I don’t want you to fight my battles. I just hoped that you and Erica would have some advice. I mean, you two are from the outside. You’ve both had a lot of experience with relationships.”
James pursed his lips and gazed at Erica solemnly. “Red? What kind of advice do you have?”
Erica thought she’d enjoy taking the drill to him after Echo left. “Well, I believe in honesty. You should just go to Drake and tell him you want the truth.”
“Or your brothers will help him reenact Custer’s Last Mistake,” James added. “With the obvious ending.”
Echo wiped her eyes and managed to smile. “At least you and Travis finally agree on something. He said the same thing.”
Erica watched quiet pleasure darken James’s eyes. “Good,” he said gruffly.
Echo looked from him to Erica. “I think you should know. People are talking about you two. Of course, Becky and Grandpa and I just ignore it, but we’d like to know what the, ummm, arrangement is here.”
Erica smiled brightly. “We have a very modern relationship. We’re just housemates and friends.”
“Ah-hah.” Echo looked at her askance, as if James had never had such a rare animal in his possession before.
“What are people saying?” James asked, his eyes troubled.
“Gossip.” Echo exhaled as if the word were a burden. “The most interesting rumor is that Erica’s pregnant and she’s hiding here until she has the baby, because you don’t want to marry her. But James, you remember how it is around here. People gossip just to have something to do. And you’re big news. It’ll pass. Becky and I’ll work on it.”
Erica’s heart sank as she saw even more dismay on James’s face.
“Well that’s the end of that,” he said gruffly. “I’ll move out. I was wrong to stay here in the first place.”
Erica clenched her hands in her lap and fought to keep from making a sound of despair. “Hey, I don’t mind what people say,” she assured him. “You know, up in D.C, I’m used to Harold Brumby’s calling me things like ‘that big Amazon witch who stole my award.’ I’m certainly not offended by rumors of being pregnant.” She paused impishly. “Even by you.”
James shook his head. “You’ve only been here a couple of weeks. I won’t let gossip ruin your chances of making friends with people.”
Echo stood up, and it was obvious from her tactful smile that she thought it best to leave. “I’ll let you know how things go with my mysterious giant. ‘Bye.”
After Echo’s station wagon disappeared down the driveway. Erica followed James into the house. Misery was a cold lump in her stomach.
“Hey, Wolfman, are you sure I’ll be safe here alone, with violent turkeys flapping around at night?”
He slipped his feet into a pair of jogging shoes and began stuffing clothes into his leather tote. “You’ll be fine. Red.”
Erica shut her eyes for a moment, then quoted to herself: “Let him be sorrowing as he goes along, and not for one night alone. Let him become an aimless wanderer, whose trail may never be followed. His eyes have come to fasten themselves on one alone.”
“There’s a draft in here,” James said abruptly. Frowning, he looked around.
Erica gazed at the goose bumps on his arms and hoped that he’d just been zapped by her lovespell. There was something else in the formula, something about wiping your spit on the intended. What the heck.
“You’ve got a spot of dirt on your arm,” she told him. Erica licked her fingertips and dabbed quickly. “There.”
He looked at her quizzically fo
r several long seconds, then said, “Thank you. Erica Alice.”
She pulled an imaginary skirt out from her jeans and curtsied. “Come back any time. I have lots of spit.” Erica wanted to die at what her mouth had just said, I have lots of spit? No wonder he didn’t find her sexy.
“I’ll be just a few miles away. There’s so much you still need to see and do. Don’t worry, I won’t desert you.”
“I know. Sure.” Erica smiled widely, using muscles that would never recover from the strain, she figured. “You’ve been great. Thanks for giving me a chance to fit in.”
He started to speak, seemed to have trouble, waited another second, then said finally, “I know you can fit in, but I also know that you can’t stay.”
Erica nodded. She had a successful business in Washington, and what kind of work could she possibly do here full time? But she wanted desperately to tell him that she’d gladly earn a million frequent-flyer points shuttling between her world and his, if he’d only ask.
She said in a playful, tear-soaked voice, “But I’m going to keep our bargain, Wolfman, and then I’ll always have Dove’s place if I want to visit.”
He nodded. “I hope you do that.”
That was it. She couldn’t talk to him for another second without losing her dignity. Erica nodded jerkily. “Bye.” She thought her voice did a great imitation of a laryngitis victim’s. “The kamama egwa says see you later. Do-na-da-go-huh.”
“Do-na-da-go-huh,” he murmured, his eyes so still and dark that she could see herself in their reflection.
Erica stepped out of his way and went inside. As soon as she shut the door she pressed both hands to her mouth and walked quickly to the back room.
Erica knew she’d be sore from crying so hard, but she cried anyway, her knees drawn up, her breath coming in big gulps that obliterated all outside sound.
So by the time she realized that there were noises in the house, James was already halfway across the bedroom to her. Erica bolted upright and covered her face. “No!” she wailed in humiliation.
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