Follow the Sun

by Deborah Smith

  Nathan came close and squatted down on his heels. Gazing into her eyes with a sorrowful expression on his face, he said softly, “Because Dove Gallatin was his mistress and he never stopped loving her.”

  “Oh no, no.” Kat stared at him as a sick feeling of defeat grew in her stomach. “Not Dove. Erica told me all about her. She was an old maid. She lived in North Carolina.”

  Growing agitated, Kat waved her hands anxiously and rushed on without pausing for breath. “Everyone loved her. They said she had powers. When she got too old and sick to be happy, she willed herself to die. She left us each a family medallion because she cared about the Gallatin family—”

  “Whoa, whoa. That may be all true—except she was no old maid.” Nathan sighed, gazed at the ground, and ran a hand through his hair as he thought for a moment.

  “Don’t try to be nice,” Kat said fiercely. “You and me got no reason to be nice to each other anymore. Just say it like it is.”

  He looked up at her with anguished, angry eyes. “Right. All I know is what Grandpa Micah told me, and he was no saint, at least not by the time I came along. Dove and him carried on for years behind my grandmother’s back. Dove got pregnant, and out of spite she went to my grandmother and told her about the whole affair.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Kat whispered.

  “Believe it. My grandmother killed herself over it. She left a baby son behind.”

  “Your father,” Kat supplied weakly.

  “Yep. My father. Grandpa Micah felt so guilty over what he’d done to his wife that he went straight to hell in a liquor bottle.”

  “What happened to Dove?”

  “She ran off to England with an RAF pilot she knew from God knows where. Married him.”

  “And her baby?”

  “Died of whooping cough before it was four. The pilot was killed during World War Two. That’s all I know about Dove. She ruined my grandpa and deserted him.”

  Kat dug her nails into her palms. “So this Gallatin” Chatham feud came closer to you than I knew. It is personal.”

  He nodded, his cold gray eyes directly on hers. “My daddy had a drunk for a father. Grandpa lost just about everything he owned; he didn’t give a damn how his son grew up, and because of that my daddy grew up worthless. He was a no-account drifter and he died in a bar fight when I was fifteen.”

  Even though this information about Nathan’s background shocked her, she could only manage to retort, “Are you blaming my family for every rotten thing that ever happened to a Chatham?”

  “I’m not blaming you or your cousins for anything. I’m simply saying that four generations of my family have been hurt by one Gallatin or another. It’s only fair that this land should pay some of that debt back.”

  Kat stood up proudly. “We won’t let you do this. You can’t drag out a claim that our kin signed back when our grandparents were kids. It won’t hold up in court.”

  He rose with slow, coiled emotion. “It’s legal. I’ve had it checked out. There’s not a damned thing you can do about it.”

  “I’m a fighter.”

  “You’re a fake fighter. You put on war paint and play at being mean. This match against me is too much for you. Give it up.”

  He held out his hand to her suddenly, and Kat was surprised to see it tremble. “I’m not doing this for the money, Kat. I don’t need the money. I do need you. I want us to be together despite this mining thing. I know that’s a lot to ask.”

  “That’s not just a lot to ask, that’s impossible,” she said softly, almost choking on the words. “My cousins would never forgive me and I’d never forgive myself. Oh, don’t worry, I’m not through with you—not in court, anyway.”

  She left him standing there with his hand out as she walked away.

  • • •

  DEPRESSION CREATED A filter around Kat, diffusing the world until nothing made much of an impression when it reached her eyes, her ears, her emotions.

  “Erica?” Kat murmured into the phone, her voice raspy and low. She leaned wearily on the big antique desk that belonged to their lawyer in Gold Ridge, her shoulders slumped, her head down. Now she knew how warriors must have felt after a lost battle.

  Drained, lifeless, empty.

  “Kat? What’s wrong? Are you sick? When I got your message I was worried. You sound sick.”

  Kat knew she wouldn’t cry. She had only a few tears left, and she was too tired to use them. “There’s something we never knew about the gold on our land. The lawyer didn’t even know. I guess Dove Gallatin knew—maybe she thought we could fix the problem.”

  “Whatever it is, relax,” Erica said patiently. “Our Cherokee relatives are buried on that land. Katherine Blue Song’s family—her parents and three sisters. Tess’s medallion says so. Grandpa Sam just finished deciphering it. I don’t see how we can lease the mining rights, knowing that, so it doesn’t matter about the gold.”

  Kat found her last tears. “Erica, we don’t have any say-so over the mining rights. We never have.”

  “What?”

  “My great-grandfather”—Kat paused to exhale heavily. “Holt Gallatin, he was trying to bribe his way out of trouble, so he signed the rights over to a man named Eli Chatham. A ninety-nine-year lease. There are twenty years left on it.”

  “Oh, Kat, no. I can’t believe Dove’s father would do that! Listen, Dove wrote down a lot of family history. It’s all in Cherokee, and Grandpa Sam is still working on it. But I do know this much—Dove could predict the future. Dove wrote a poem about me that came true.”

  “Erica, I don’t believe in all that kind of stuff.”

  “Dove gave us our medallions for a reason, Kat. Mine says that our great-great-grandmother went on the Trail of Tears to Oklahoma, with the rest of the tribe, but Justis rescued her.”

  “Oh, Erica, Justis didn’t care about Katherine—Katlanicha.”

  “Yes, he did. I’m convinced of that. There’s so much love in those medallions, Kat. Mine also says, ‘A wolf will find his mate, no matter how far she roams.’ Kat, I’m going to marry James Tall Wolf. Do you understand? My medallion held a prophecy.”

  Kat pounded a fist on the desk, “Erica, you’re not listening.”

  “I don’t know what Tess will make of hers. I’ve sent it back to her with the translation of the message. We’ll just have to wait and see how she reacts. When Grandpa gets your medallion figured out, I think we’ll see some kind of pattern. We were meant to have the land, we were meant to take care of it.”

  “My great-grandfather sold the mining rights and there’s nothing we can do about it!” Kat yelled. “That’s all that matters! He sold the rights to Eli Chatham. Later he and Chatham killed each other in a gunfight. And now Chatham’s grandson owns the rights!”

  “Kat, honey, there has to be a way out of this,” Erica said calmly, though there was a slight tremor in her voice. “Damn, I wish you weren’t there alone. I can tell you’re frantic.”

  “I’m sorry for yelling,” Kat said hoarsely. “But listen, you don’t understand. This isn’t business, this is revenge.” She explained the Gallatin-Chatham feud.

  Erica groaned. “Kat, are you saying that this Chatham character blames us for all of that?”

  “No, Nathan’s real sorry for us, but he promised his grandpa, and he has a lot of honor.”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  Kat felt a cold, shriveling pain wrap around her rib cage. “Ours. I’m a Gallatin. I gotta put the land first.”

  Erica asked gently, “Is there something I ought to know about you and Nathan Chatham?”

  Swiping at her eyes, Kat exhaled sharply and said, “Nah. Listen. Micah Chatham put it in his will that nobody could mine our land until after Dove died. Now Dove’s gone, and Nathan Chatham says he’s going to, to—” Her voice cracked. “Do you know what ‘heap leaching’ is?”

  “Oh Lord,” Erica said raggedly, and Kat realized that her cousin was crying, too. “He’ll turn our land into a g
ravel pit full of chemicals.” She took a calming breath. “James and I’ll drive down to Gold Ridge tomorrow morning. We can buy this Chatham bastard off or stop him in court. Kat, I know we can.”

  “Sure. I’m staying at the Kirkland Inn. See ya there.”

  She hung up the phone and sat thinking dully, There’s only one chance of changing Nathan’s plan, and I’m the only Gallatin who can take it.

  HE WOULD NEVER forget this day, no matter how hard he might try—Kat’s face when he’d told her the truth about his pledge to his grandfather, her wilted little questions, and finally the way she’d just turned and limped to her car, without looking back.

  All of it was branded into him, and the brand would be painfully raw for a long, long time.

  Nathan capped the bottle of bourbon and tossed it aside. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten drunk, but it’d probably been for a celebration of some kind. Well, that’s what tonight was—a celebration of family revenge, family honor, and the evolution of Nathan Chatham, idealistic geologist, into Nathan Chatham, heartless bastard.

  Nathan rubbed his face wearily, slung another piece of wood at his campfire, not caring that his boozy aim made it miss the fire entirely, and stretched out on his side, propped up on one elbow.

  His head swam. He shut his eyes and saw Kat’s face. No, Katie’s face. More often than not he thought of her that way. How could he win her after today? How he could make her understand that nobody would ever love her more than he did, despite the debt he had to settle for his family?

  She was meant to love him back, but like before, it would take time for her to admit that, maybe even to herself.

  Love him like before? Nathan cursed softly and rubbed his forehead again, as if he could force thoughts that made sense inside his brain.

  Katie, give me a chance, gal. Katie.

  “Nathan.”

  He opened his eyes groggily and saw her kneeling on the ground near his feet. Startled, he looked at her without speaking, slowly taking in the fact that she’d walked a half mile through the woods at night, alone, to come to him, that she wore the white dress he’d bought her, and that she’d crimped her hair somehow so that it cascaded around her in ebony waves.

  She was so beautiful that he ached inside, so unreal in the firelight that he rubbed his eyes and checked to make certain she was still there, her hands calmly in her lap.

  Maybe he was looking at a wishful thought.

  But she rested a hand on his leg, and her touch seared him even through his buckskin breeches. “I love you,” she said in a firm, somber voice, her eyes never leaving his.

  Nathan blinked twice, shook his head, and almost said I love you back. But then he remembered the look of desperation on her face earlier that day.

  He laughed hoarsely. “You love this land.”

  “I love you and the land. That’s why I’m asking you for a deal.”

  “Love.” Nathan said something so obscene that her hand trembled on him and she looked a little frightened. “Don’t ever use that word to me,” he warned. “It has nothing to do with what you want.”

  “Okay. If it bothers you so much, then you’ll never hear it from me again.”

  “Good.” He eyed her wearily, with dismay, finally asking, “So what’s your deal?”

  “Anything you want from me, for as long as you want it. I’ll go wherever you tell me to go, do whatever you want me to do, work for you, sleep with you, wash your truck, clean your house—I guess you’ve got a house somewhere, don’t you?” She smiled, but to Nathan it just made her look sadder. “How many men would turn down a nice slave?” she asked.

  He stared at her in amazement. “This man would. I remember you saying, ‘I don’t want to go through the rest of my life being used.’ ”

  “It’s not the rest of my life. It’s for as long as you want.”

  Nathan leaned on both elbows and let his head drape back. It made him dizzy. What he was thinking made the sensation even worse. I wanted you then, I want you now, I want you forever.

  “And I’d give back the mining rights to your land,” he said, tilting his head forward.

  “I don’t expect you to do that, Nathan. I guess I understand why you’ve gotta do what your family deserves.” Her voice sounded old, defeated. “But maybe you could postpone the mining for a few years. You know—give me and my cousins some time to enjoy the land.

  “Maybe Tess and Erica will have kids. If their kids could see this, you know, if the next generation of Gallatin kin could get even one look at where their people came from, where they’re buried—”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Katlanicha’s parents and sisters are buried here,” she explained, looking away from his intense gaze. “If you could give us a few years, maybe we can find their graves and move ’em. Tess’s and Erica’s children could see the old homeplace, and then you could do what you had to do.”

  “What about your children?” he asked grimly.

  She shook her head and met his gaze again. “I don’t think my prospects are too good. I don’t get to know men too easy and I’m not marrying another ‘safe’ one so I can have children.”

  “You got to know me pretty easily,” he reminded her. The hurt, angry look in her eyes made him wince. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Why am I different?”

  “You just are.” She frowned, looked down at her lap, fidgeted a little, and said finally, “We’re great together. You said you want things to be right between us again. I know you’re crazy about me in bed. And you like teaching me how to be a Cherokee.”

  “So we can go on like before if I give you a deal on the land?” he asked, feeling anger rise inside him like a snake. “You can fake it, even if you hate my guts?”

  “I know how to make you laugh, and I won’t get in your way much. If you want to travel to any of the crazy places you like to visit, you know I can go along and not be a wimp. How many women got so much to offer and ask so little in return?”

  “You can fake it?” he asked again, his voice rising.

  She shook her head. Her eyes were ancient and despairing. “I don’t hate you. I couldn’t do this if I didn’t want things to be right between us, too. Maybe I hate myself for still wanting you.”

  His fury stalled, and he studied her shrewdly, wondering if she were telling the truth. If she was … Nathan felt his breath grow shallow with hope. He crossed his feet nonchalantly and tossed out, “I never kept a mistress before.”

  She shivered a little, but she looked him straight in the eye and said stoically, “Let’s call it what it is. I wouldn’t be your mistress. I’d be your whore.”

  The slow, sick press of air out of his lungs mingled with an admiration for her strength that made him want to cry. There was a great stillness in the atmosphere around them, as if the night had stopped to listen.

  “I don’t see it that way. I see it as a friendly compromise between two people who need to be together.”

  “Then you’re sugarcoating it to be nice. Don’t get me wrong, there’re plenty of ways to be a whore in this world, and they don’t have anything to do with sex. I’ve seen people trade themselves for a lot of bad reasons. At least I’m doing it for a good one.”

  “I don’t want you on those terms. I want you as a friend and lover.”

  “Okay, if that’s how you look at it.”

  He struggled not to pound a fist against the earth and tell her that he wanted her to love him despite this nonsense between their families. She’s giving you a chance to win her over. Don’t be a fool. Take it.

  “All right. I’ll take your deal. You’re mine, body and soul, for as long as I want. Starting tonight. Tomorrow I’ll have a lawyer draw up a contract.”

  “I trust your word.”

  “You’re awful magnanimous.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but I guess it’s good.” She was trembling noticeably now. “I only have one condition. I don’t want my cousins to know I’ve
got this deal with you. They’d try to stop me. I’ll just tell ’em that I talked you out of mining our land right away.”

  Nathan chuckled harshly. “So you three Cherokee musketeers will have years to attack my mining rights with every legal maneuver you can find.”

  She looked at him for a moment, then said softly, “Yeah, that’s the way I’m figuring it.”

  “All right. I like your honesty. You belong to me. Our secret. In return you get a five-year grace period for your land.” He slipped the gold nugget from around his neck and handed it to her. “I want you to wear this all the time.”

  Her eyes gleamed with surprise. She took the sturdy gold chain and pecan-sized nugget, cupped them in her hand for a moment, then slipped the chain over her head.

  Nathan caught his breath. The gold seemed to gleam brighter just from being close to her. He squinted, shook his head to clear it, but couldn’t rid himself of the illusion.

  It was only right that she have the nugget, right that the warmth of her spirit should make it take on new life. After all, it was the one thing he could give back. It had belonged to Justis Gallatin.

  CHAPTER 8

  THE FRIGID MOUNTAIN water cut through her brooding thoughts and made her think only of getting warm again. That, unfortunately, make her think of Nathan’s leg draped across her thighs and his arm lying relaxed and possessive under her breasts.

  Kat put her soap and shampoo on a rock, sat down close by, and curled her legs to one side. Water closed around her waist, the stream capturing her, making her a part of the land it served.

  She scooped water onto her face and held it there, the silver drops draining down her arms like tears. This bargain would ruin her, because unless Nathan fell in love with her somewhere along the way, she’d lose both him and any chance of saving the land.

  The thought of losing either made her whimper softly; more so because it was Nathan she needed most.

  “Kat.”

  She jerked her head up and looked over her shoulder. He waded across the stream to her, naked, carrying a towel in one hand with little regard for whether it hid anything or not.