Follow the Sun

by Deborah Smith

  “I couldn’t walk away when I saw you taking a bath that day,” she told him. “I never saw a man enjoy being naked so much. I wanted to be naked with you.”

  “Now you are.” His briefs fell to his ankles and he stepped out of them.

  Immediately he curved both hands down her spine, underneath the mane of hair, along her rump, then beneath it, so he could pull her to his hardness.

  She gasped with delight as the ridge nestled into her belly, and he thought there would never be a more exquisite sensation in his life than the feel of her soft mound fitted to the tops of his thighs.

  “Nice,” she whispered. “And remember, I’m not real good with words.”

  “You’re great with body language.”

  He picked her up. Her thighs wrapped around his waist and her arms circled his neck in a deep embrace. With his face near enough for her mobile, sweet little mouth to enjoy, she kissed whatever she could reach.

  Nathan staggered from sensation, dimly aware that he was flexing against her and that she was answering the primitive, erotic invitation with movements of her own. She dug the necklace from between them and kissed the nugget.

  “I want to kiss everything on you and everything that ever touched you,” she explained.

  Nathan heard the breath slide from his mouth in a sigh of helpless surrender. The spontaneous movements of their bodies joined them suddenly. Kat made a high-pitched keening sound and, panting, looked at him through half-shut eyes.

  He knew from her silkiness that he hadn’t hurt her. He had surprised her, though.

  “You’re so strong,” she murmured breathlessly, and the devotion in her eyes told him that she loved his surprise.

  “I can hold you,” he promised, and squeezed his hands into her thighs to lift her higher on his body.

  “Hold me,” she begged, kissing him deeply, slipping her tongue in and out of his mouth and filling him with a hunger that poured extraordinary strength into him.

  She was no heavier than a dream, and he moved inside her easily, nuzzling his face along her shoulder, kissing her, biting her, licking her throat when her head fell back and she cried out to him.

  Nathan’s knees buckled a little at the feel of her pulsing with release. Her wail of pleasure held surprise and fierce happiness.

  He found himself laughing and almost crying and on the verge of filling her with everything he could give. “It’s like this with you and me, Katie,” he shouted with delight. “Didn’t you always know it would be like this?”

  Her head fell forward and she sank her mouth onto his for a long moment, which brought him into a realm he’d never known before. “Yes,” she said against his mouth. “Always.”

  Nathan dropped to his knees and arched into her in one final, explosive moment that made his head sag back even as his fingers dug into her and she gave him more—more of her body, more of her fire, more of her soul.

  They collapsed onto the floor together, still joined, their skin slick with sweat, their breaths mingling in a turbulent search for the center of the storm.

  All Nathan could manage to do was hold on to her with the same exhausted grip she had on him. “Now, Katie,” he whispered, “we can start again.”

  Whatever he meant, she stroked his face and hair and smiled down at him with joyful tears in her eyes. “I know.”

  SHE HAD TO leam everything about him, everything that those handsome, droopy eyes had seen and everything that weathered, work-hardened body had done, everything that had made him into the man she now loved.

  Nathan protested that he felt like her private playground, but the smile he gave her said that he didn’t mind a bit. She made him lie on the bed while she nuzzled her face over his torso, licking and kissing the sweaty, sexy essence until he swore she was trying to eat him alive.

  Kat lifted his hands to study the scars and calluses from rough work and dangerous encounters. She traced the lines in his palms, thinking how his past and future seemed to merge with the blemishes; this man had never avoided a challenge, and it showed in his hands.

  Now he’d brought that challenge into her life, and she would read his body like a map, trying to understand him so well that she could find his heart, and keep it.

  Kat stroked a fingertip over the fine white lines on his right knuckles. “You used to fight?”

  “Just enough to keep my hide in one piece so you’d enjoy it one day.” Oh, he knew how to make an electric jolt of pleasure slide through her, and he recognized it in her eyes. “I like your hide, too,” he promised softly, brushing his scarred knuckle over her breasts and smiling when the peaks grew harder.

  “You’re plain wicked, Nathan Chatham.” She arched one black brow at him. “You ever fight over a woman?”

  “Yep.” He waited just long enough for her to thump his chest in exasperation. “I punched a water buffalo that was about to do a tap dance on an old Australian lady.”

  “Oh.” She took his hand again and kissed the knuckles. “Other fights?”

  “I had a run-in with boys in Surador last year. Just helping out an acquaintance of mine.”

  When Kat looked at him quizzically he explained, “Fellow I met while I was studying sites. Said he was an anthropologist, but I suspect he was in government work. Nice guy, but a funny name—Surprise. Kyle Surprise. He hung around with me for a few weeks, then moved on.

  “I heard later that he’d gotten into some trouble. One of the nationalist patrons didn’t like Kyle’s brand of anthropology, I think. Had him locked up on a banana plantation.” Nathan shrugged. “I just organized a few of the rebel troops and got him out.”

  Pride swept over Kat, making her bend forward quickly and kiss him. “You’re a wonder.”

  “Wonder all right. Wonder what you’re gonna do to me next.”

  She sat back, stroked the hard plane of his belly, and said in a husky tone, “I’m gonna turn you over and see that tattoo. I want to know all about it.”

  “Got it on the Amazon.”

  “That’s not where I saw it.”

  Chuckling, he rolled onto his stomach without the least hint of shyness and propped his chin on crossed arms.

  Kat smiled in delight. “It looks like a clown face!”

  Nathan huffed loudly. “That’s Numanchuko, the god of earth. The natives said Numanchuko must like me if he let me know his secrets.”

  “Secrets?”

  “Gold.”

  “Oh.” Kat molded her hands to Nathan’s back and drew them down to his thighs, watching the muscles flex in response. “Numanchuko’s lively,” she noted.

  “I think he expects an earthquake.”

  “I expect he’s right. I’m gonna get real friendly with him.”

  Wanting to be close to Nathan in ways she’d never wanted with any other man, she draped herself on top of him like a blanket, smiling a little at the thought of the colorful tattoo face flattened under her stomach.

  “Ol’ Numanchuko’s never had it so good,” Nathan said with a soft groan.

  Kat nibbled the back of his neck, stroked a small patch of hair between his shoulder blades, then slowly slid her hands down his sides.

  “Nathan? I want another pony ride.”

  He slipped a hand into her hair and guided her upward so that her head was next to his. Kat curled over him, giggling when their mouths met awkwardly, losing the breath to giggle when he rebuked her with a deliciously rough tongue. She moved and lay in his arms, pulled chest to chest with him, her thighs hugging the leg he angled between them.

  He drew her lower lip between his teeth, nibbled it, then let go slowly and licked the swollen skin like a wild animal tasting his mate. Kat shut her eyes and still saw him, imagined the primal glitter in his eyes, the ruffled hair of his desperado mustache a little damp from the wet kiss they’d just shared.

  As he rose over her she locked her gaze on his face, trying to see inside him, hoping she could pour all of her love into him until he had no choice but to love her back. />
  He cared for the earth, wore its offering on his body, took from it as her great-great-grandfather had done, but Nathan had honesty and honor; he gave respect in return. On her land, her ancestors’ land, she and Nathan had formed a very special bond that went beyond explanation.

  And she believed that the land would keep them together.

  NATHAN NUZZLED HIS face into her neck and sighed with contentment. “How’s your ankle?”

  She lifted it from the water. “Real good. I like your form of doctoring. Lots of rest, with plenty of company. It’s working. Even when my ankle hurts, I don’t notice.”

  “You’ll go back on the tour right away?”

  “Have to. Got bills to pay.”

  “Nope.”

  Kat turned her head toward his and kissed him gently. “Yep.”

  “Nope. I already paid ’em.”

  She twisted quickly and looked him straight in the eyes. “When?”

  “When we were in town eating lunch the other day. You went to the ladies’ room, and I made a phone call. Just told a friend of mine what to take care of.” When she continued to look at him speechlessly, he added, “I did it so you could stay here longer with me. Is that so bad?”

  “How long are you gonna stay?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Where will you go after you leave?”

  “Surador. I’ve got work to do down there.” He cupped her face with one hand and gazed at her tenderly. “See, Kat? We’re both nomads. But even nomads can find ways to be together. I’ll be back. I’ll find you.”

  Suddenly the future was a lot less happy. Kat slid her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.

  “I’m not gone yet,” he said gruffly, and stroked her hair.

  It feels like you are, Kat told him silently.

  • • •

  KAT CARRIED AN armload of kindling back toward camp, barely limping now that she’d had several more days of Nathan’s rather untraditional—but highly enjoyable—form of doctoring.

  Sunset made long shadows hang from the trees, and bats darted across patches of sky overhead. She thought about all the Cherokee legends Nathan had told her of monsters and giants, elves and witches.

  Kat chanted under her breath. “Lions and tigers and bears, oh my! Lions and tigers and bears, oh—”

  “Hello,” a bass voice said politely.

  Kat dropped her kindling. Her heart jamming her throat, she swung around on the trail and faced an incredible sight. Oh Lord, Nathan was right. There were giants.

  He didn’t look Cherokee, but he could have been birthed by some Cherokee mountain. He stood there watching her, his neatly cropped black hair brushing a tree limb easily seven feet from the ground. He had shoulders a bodybuilder would die for, but otherwise he was streamlined. Big as a freight train, but streamlined, with a handsome, somewhat angular face.

  Kat exhaled a little. No mythical giant would be dressed in a blue T-shirt, khaki trousers, and hiking boots. But she didn’t like the fact that he had a knife the size of a small sword lashed into a leather scabbard on one side of his belt.

  Kat backed away slowly, her hands balled into fists.

  The giant’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait.”

  “I’m little, but I’m tough,” she warned in a low, fierce voice. “And I’ll take a prize or two before you squash me.”

  He stepped forward, holding up both huge hands in a placating gesture. “I’m—”

  “Dead meat,” she interjected, and whipped out the Beretta that had been hidden in the front waistband of her shorts, under her floppy T-shirt. Kat pointed the gun at the center of his chest.

  “Facedown on the ground. Spread-eagle. Say a word and I’ll turn you into cheddar cheese … Swiss cheese.”

  Kat grimaced. She was so intimidating. She couldn’t even get her cheeses right.

  The giant shrugged, sighed, and lowered himself with surprising grace to the forest floor.

  “Eat the ground,” she ordered, feeling desperate with fear. He sighed again and stuck his face into dark humus that was damp from an afternoon rain.

  “Yo, Kat!” Nathan called from somewhere in the woods near camp. He sang coyly, “Here, kitty, here, kitty!”

  “Naaaathaan!” she screamed. Within seconds she heard him crashing through the forest, taking a shortcut to the trail.

  He burst onto it, his hand wrapped around the hilt of his bowie knife. “What?”

  “I caught this guy on our land!” Our seemed appropriate. It had just popped out.

  Nathan ran up to her, halted in midstride, and stared at the captive, who still had his face buried in the forest floor.

  Kat watched in consternation as Nathan dropped the knife, clasped his stomach, and bent over laughing. “D-Drake L-Lancaster.” He wheezed. “Caught by my Katie.”

  Oh no. Drake Lancaster, Nathan’s co-worker? She stared at the huge man in horrified embarrassment. He remained flat, but his back quivered with laughter, and he raised his head slowly.

  She’s perfect for you, Nathan.”

  DRAKE RETURNED FROM his room in Gold Ridge early the next morning, met them at the site of the Blue Song home, and squinted at Kat in amusement when she solemnly apologized one more time.

  Then he stripped down to hiking shorts and boots, grabbed a shovel, and attacked the house site like a human bulldozer. Nathan wore only jogging shorts and his hiking boots, and Kat felt positively overdressed because she had to wear a bra and T-shirt with her shorts.

  But after Drake returned to the inn for the day …

  She followed the two men, picking up the things they unearthed, smiling when Nathan looked over and made clucking noises at her.

  She really did feel like a little hen searching for goodies, and she found plenty to cluck about. By noon she’d stacked twenty window sash weights in a neat pyramid beside a smaller pile of nails, hinges, and miscellaneous metal.

  But her big find was four buttons and a handful of musket balls.

  “Nathan!” She went over to him excitedly and presented the items in her cupped palms. “Look! They were all in the same spot!”

  After carefully scratching dirt off one button with a twig, Nathan’s expression became pensive. He held it so that a stripe of sunlight would illuminate the features.

  “It’s got a U.S. Army insignia.”

  She frowned. “But what would that be doing near the musket balls? Nathan, are you saying a soldier was killed here? But there’s no skeleton!”

  Drake came over and examined the items. He was a very quiet, private person. Kat had already noticed, and he seemed to feel awkward around her, though he certainly wasn’t shy. She judged he was just self-conscious in the manner of large, brutal-looking men who were accustomed to being feared whether they warranted it or not.

  As he volunteered technical information about the musket balls, Kat eyed him curiously. Nathan had said that he coordinated on-site security for Tri-State mines, and it was obvious he was a weapons expert.

  “So what you’re saying,” Nathan observed when he’d finished describing the balls, “is that these probably hit hard objects—stone or metal—not people.”

  “Yes. If the buttons fit the time period when the Cherokees were removed, then it’s possible the army was up here, and these could be musket shots they fired inside the house.”

  Kat gave Nathan a troubled look. Her heart felt like a fist in her chest. “Damn,” she said softly.

  He laid a hand against her cheek. “There could be a lot of explanations.”

  “Yeah, I know. But that one jibes with history. There was a lot of violence when the Cherokees were rounded up.”

  “Well, could be that soldiers came into the house after the family left,” Drake offered. “And shot the place up just for the hell of it. One of them could’ve left a jacket behind. The jacket rotted but the buttons didn’t.”

  “But I thought white settlers took over the deserted ho
uses and cabins,” Kat said. “Why would they let this one sit here until it fell down?”

  Nathan stroked her cheek. “Justis owned it, remember? Nobody’d try to move into the house if the place was claimed by an important man like him.”

  “Great,” Kat said bitterly. “So the only thing that saved the place was the fact that he stole it from Great-Great-Grandmother’s family. Real noble of him. I wonder why he didn’t move his white wife up here. Heck, maybe he did.”

  “Aw, Katie, it wasn’t like that.”

  Kat stared at him. Whenever he spoke in that strange, certain way, calling her Katie, a feeling of trust came over her.

  His eyes locked on hers as if he were trying to remember something and looking at her helped. “Don’t know,” he said after a few seconds, wearily, and the intensity faded from his eyes. “It just seems to me that Justis was most likely a decent man. Maybe I want to like him for your sake.”

  She smiled a little then. “That’s a good enough reason for me, sweetcakes.”

  “Let me take these buttons and musket balls into town,” Drake told them. “There’s a gun shop there run by an old codger who knows local history. He might confirm the button ID.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Nathan answered. Looking at Kat, he said, “I’ll walk to camp and bring back some lunch. Why don’t you sit down and prop your ankle up on something?”

  She nodded. “I’d kinda like to be alone here for a while.” Kat looked around wistfully. “To think.”

  Drake got into a mud-spattered Jeep and drove away. Nathan hugged her tenderly, then swung off down the front side of the ridge, his proud, athletic stride holding her gaze until he was hidden by the trees.

  Kat sat down on a log and stretched her injured leg out. Well, she had Nathan, she had her land, and even if there was a lot of sadness connected to her family’s history she was going to love living here.

  Especially if Nathan would live here with her.

  Kat propped her chin on her hands and stared at the ground, trying to re-create the Blue Song house from its ghosts, wondering what had happened the day the soldiers came. How had Katlanicha escaped? When had she met Justis? Some things would always be a mystery.