Beneath Southern Skies

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Beneath Southern Skies Page 7

by Terra Little


  “Who’s out there?” the voice called out again.

  A flashlight clicked on in the distance, behind a small stand of trees, and Tressie dropped into a crouching position. “Let’s go!” She looked around frantically for Nate and finally spotted him several feet ahead of her, almost at the fence. “Nate! Wait up!”

  “I said ‘let’s go’ two minutes ago!” At the fence, he took a second to bend down and put on his sandals while Tressie raced toward him.

  The flashlight’s beam was getting closer, and Tressie’s heart was pounding. She ran faster than she ever had in her life and that was saying something, because she’d been the star of the Mercy High School track team about a million years ago. She was pretty sure that she’d dropped her panties in the grass a few feet back, but there was no way she was going back for them, even if they were her favorite pair. Nate had already scaled the fence and was straddling the top, ready to grab her and haul her up and over, if only she could get there already.

  “Is anybody out there?”

  There was the voice again and it was getting closer, along with that damned flashlight beam. It was probably just one of Moira’s ancient house staff, come outside to see what all the noise down by the creek was about, but still. This wasn’t exactly the way that she’d planned to make Moira’s acquaintance again after all these years, with her panties on the ground at the woman’s feet, grass in her hair and one of her breasts dangerously close to spilling out of her dress.

  “Wait up!” she hissed at Nate again.

  “Hurry up, Tressie!”

  The grass was steady and dry underneath her feet and she was making good time. A few more feet and she’d be up and over the fence in no time. Getting ready for the jump, she reached up for Nate’s hands at the same time that the ground shifted underneath her. Too shocked to utter a sound, she wobbled sideways and lost her footing. When her ankle twisted, pain shot up her calf and she would’ve screamed if the ground hadn’t chosen that exact moment to disappear. With a comical “Oh” lingering in the air in her wake, the ground opened up and swallowed her.

  “Tressie!”

  Her shoes flew in opposite directions as she landed on her butt on what she guessed was hard-packed dirt and sat there for a moment, getting her bearings. She heard Nate’s voice above her and got to her feet. She rotated her ankle and breathed a sigh a relief when it didn’t seem to be seriously injured. The top of the hole that she’d fallen down into was a few feet over her head, far enough away that she couldn’t reach it, but close enough that she could see up and out of it, to the night sky above. Thank God she hadn’t done herself any real harm. Other than her butt being a little sore and her ankle complaining slightly, she was fine. Her purse was still behind her, dangling from her neck and slapping against her back.

  The landscaping lights up above were no help to her down here, but at least she could clearly see the opening that had swallowed her. She stood directly underneath it. “Down here,” she called back. “I think I fell down a rabbit hole. Toss me the flashlight.”

  Instead of the flashlight, Nate’s legs appeared in the hole. Slowly, he lowered himself down into the ground. Tressie moved back to make room for him, laughing when he landed on his feet like a supersize cat. “Great,” she said when he was finally down there with her, “now we’re both trapped.”

  “I’ve been in worse hiding places than this—trust me,” Nate murmured, looking around in the darkness. “We’ll give it a few minutes and see if whoever is up there leaves, and then we’ll climb back out and get the hell out of here. Remind me to strangle you for getting us in this mess sometime tomorrow, would you?”

  “Is anybody out here?” the voice said from almost directly above them.

  “Shhh,” Nate whispered, moving away from the opening and taking Tressie with him. He pressed her back against a cool dirt wall and held her there with his body against hers. “Don’t make a sound,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Hello?” the voice above called.

  “Do you think they know about this hole?” Tressie wanted to know.

  “They will if you keep talking. Shhh.”

  She slapped the hand that he placed over her mouth away. “What if there are snakes down here or...or rats?”

  “Would you please stop it?” he breathed close to her face.

  “No, I will not stop,” she whispered back. “There could be a ten-foot-long snake somewhere down here right now, waiting to swallow me whole, and those things don’t even have teeth. How is that going to work?”

  “If you’re out here somewhere,” the voice above them called out, “I have your panties. You’d better come out and get them, because they sure ain’t my size.” A few seconds of silence passed and then, “Sure wish they was, though. Cute.”

  Tressie’s head fell back against the dirt wall. “Oh, my God.” It took her a few seconds to realize that Nate was silently cracking up. His body was vibrating against hers softly, in an effort, she guessed, to keep quiet. She pushed at his chest, and he stumbled a few steps back. “You think this is funny?”

  “Hell, yes,” he managed to say between chuckles. “Don’t you?”

  “No.” She was incredulous. “Those were my favorite panties!” That only made him laugh harder. Up above them, the voice was still talking but, thankfully, it sounded farther away.

  “Probably some kids out here fooling around,” it said thoughtfully. “I told Miss Moira that she needs to get some guard dogs. Ain’t no telling how many babies been made out here by this creek.”

  They waited a few minutes to be sure that the coast was clear, then Nate switched on the flashlight, shining it directly in her face. “Are you all right? Let me see your ankle.”

  “Get that thing out of my face,” Tressie snapped, throwing up her hands to shield her face from the surprisingly high-powered beam. “My ankle is fine—just a little sore.” She reached for him and then slipped behind him. She grabbed fistfuls of his T-shirt, pressed up against him and peeked out from behind his shoulder. “Look around and see what else is hiding down here with us.” Dreading what the flashlight might reveal, she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath, waiting.

  When Nate went completely still, she feared the worst.

  “What is it? What do you see?”

  He said nothing and, after several seconds of intense silence, Tressie opened one eye and then the other, leaning sideways slightly to see around him. “What is it?”

  “Do you see what I see?” Nate finally asked.

  “Y-yes,” she squeaked out, staring. Her mouth eventually fell open. “Oh, my God.”

  “You keep saying that.”

  “I know, but I mean it this time.” She stepped out from behind him and crept around the space in her bare feet. One thing in particular caught her attention and held it. She reached for it tentatively, as if it might suddenly strike out at her. “Look—”

  “Don’t touch anything,” Nate barked just before she would’ve touched the object of her attention. “Come back over here to me, sugar. We can’t disturb anything.” He held out a hand to her and she took it, vaguely registering the fact that her hand fit perfectly in his. “Come on, sugar. Watch your step.”

  Back in Nate’s arms, Tressie let the sob that had been building in her chest escape. After the first one, a floodgate seemed to open and she was sobbing uncontrollably. Suddenly the air around them seemed cooler and somehow...sad, and she shivered. The space was no bigger than a small bedroom. The walls, floors and ceiling were made of packed dirt with wooden slats visible in some places. Along the back wall, crude drawings had been etched deep into the dirt, but time had obscured their clarity.

  Still, Tressie knew. She knew. And in case she didn’t, there could be no mistaking the archaic and rusted artifacts scattered on the floor in a dark corner. She had reached for the least
of them, a bowl, and she would’ve picked it up and marveled at it, held it in the palms of her hands, if Nate hadn’t had the presence of mind to stop her. Her fingers itched to touch...feel...experience, but he was right. They couldn’t disturb the sanctity of this space, not yet.

  “Your camera,” she said, frantically wiping the tears from her eyes. “You have to bring your camera here. You have to—”

  “I know,” he cut in almost reverently. His grip on her waist tightened and she heard him swallow. “But first, sugar, let’s just stand here for a minute and feel this place.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and then her forehead, and she felt her heart shift in her chest a little bit. “Let’s just let it feel us.”

  “Do you know what this is, Nate?” Of course he did, but she couldn’t help asking the question anyway. This was too big, too important not to speak aloud into the universe. “Do you know what we just found? What this means?”

  “Sure I do, sugar. It means you didn’t just fall down a rabbit hole. You discovered a stop on the Underground Railroad.”

  * * *

  They were both riding high on the impact of the discovery that they had made less than an hour ago, and neither of them was thinking straight. But then, neither of them really wanted to be. There were calls to make, people to talk to and strategies to plan, but none of it mattered right now.

  First, there was this, Nate thought as he rolled a magnum-size condom onto his stiff and aching penis and lay back in the middle of his bed. A rumbling purr started in the center of his chest and crawled up his throat, slowly curling out of his mouth as Tressie slid on top of him. Her breasts bounced and jiggled in front of his face for all of five seconds before his mouth opened, his tongue shot out and his lips closed over a plump nipple. He sucked it deep inside his mouth and listened to her meow like a kitten.

  First, there was this, he thought again. The rest could wait.

  Down below, she gripped him and slid her slick divide up and down his length, gasping for air every time the head of his penis pushed up and across her engorged clitoris. He wondered through the fog rapidly clouding his brain if she knew how each of the little ecstatic sounds she made landed against his eardrums, if she had any idea how close he was to exploding because of them.

  Unable to stop himself, Nate reached down between them and swept Tressie’s hands out and away from their bodies. He threaded his fingers through hers and held them on the mattress on either side of his head as his hips rotated between her thighs. When his length was up against her sopping-wet opening, he entered her with one long, deep thrust.

  “Ahhh,” Tressie threw her head back and cried out. “Ahhh,” she cried again when his hips rotated quickly, causing him to withdraw almost completely and surge up into her again.

  “Damn,” Nate hissed with her breast still in his mouth. Feeling like a wild, untamed animal, he rolled over and reversed their positions. Tressie’s legs instinctively opened as wide as possible and bowed back, and his eyes slid closed on a low moan. Bracing himself on his hands over her, he gritted his teeth and buried himself in her scorching heat to the hilt. She was almost unbearably tight and hot, and dripping wet and silky and...

  He lost his mind inside her and his hips took on a life of their own, pumping and rolling to their own rhythm. The bed shook beneath them and, underneath him, Tressie’s body vibrated violently. Her head was thrown back, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth opened, but no sound emerged. His strokes rendered her silent, unable to do anything except squeeze her bouncing breasts in her hands and take what he was giving her.

  He was the one shouting as if he had suddenly taken leave of his senses. Growling like a beast and sucking in deep gulps of air to keep himself from passing out. God, she was exquisite and she felt so damn good that he couldn’t stop himself from pushing and pushing and pushing inside her.

  “Ah, yes, sugar,” he crooned when Tressie’s legs bowed back even farther and her knees damn near met her ears. “That’s right. Open up for me. Give this to me...all of it.”

  She did open up and then her walls clamped shut around him, closing him into a velvet fist that he wanted to stay trapped inside of forever. A gentle thumping at the base of his spine alerted him to the fact that forever wasn’t meant to be, though. He lost his breath and before he could catch it again, he was coming, shouting her name and issuing some kind of ancient tribal-sounding call, all at the same time.

  While he was still sprawled on top of her, searching for his breath and not finding it, she turned her head, slipped her tongue inside his mouth like a dream and found his. All tongue and teeth, the kiss seemed to go on and on, until she finally ended it with a soft, lingering peck.

  Ignoring his protesting groan, she pushed her fingers up into the depths of his hair, cupped his still-tingling scalp and gently urged his head down onto the pillow next to hers.

  His last coherent thought, before he fell asleep lying on top of her and still buried inside her, was, Tressie Valentine? Seriously?

  * * *

  “Hello?”

  “Miss Valentine, this is Norman Harper.”

  “Uh...just a second, please.”

  Mentally kicking herself for not taking time to look at the caller-ID screen before answering, Tressie tucked her cell phone between her head and shoulder, and glanced back over her shoulder nervously. Nate was still asleep and snoring lightly, thank God. She climbed out of bed as quietly as possible and grabbed her sundress off the lampshade on her way out of the bedroom. She went into the bathroom off the hallway and closed the door behind her.

  “Good morning, Mr. Harper,” she half whispered into the phone, automatically shifting into professional mode. “What can I do for you?”

  “I think a better question would be, what can I do for you, Miss Valentine,” he said. “Have you thought any more about the offer that Consolidated Investments made you? We would really like to take possession of your house as soon as possible. I assume you’re still interested in selling?”

  “Um, yes, I am, but there are still a few minor details that I need to take care of,” Tressie lied. Nate had helped her finish packing up and clearing out the house days ago. Most of the furniture was safely in storage, and there was a slightly shabby but clean local motel that she could check in to anytime she wanted. But she wasn’t quite ready to turn over Ma’Dear’s house to Consolidated Investments, even if she did desperately need the money that the sale would bring her. Nate had made his opinion of what she had come to Mercy to do very clear in the days since they had agreed to work together and, for some reason, his opinion mattered.

  He’s not your husband, Tressie, a little voice in the back of her mind insisted. Who cares what he thinks? Think of Vanessa Valentino and what this money could do for her, for her career. You want your career back, don’t you?

  “Can you give me a little more time?” she heard herself ask. “A few more days, maybe?”

  “Sure,” Norman said easily, “but I’m sure you’re aware of the time-sensitive nature of our offer. We pride ourselves on being a fair-minded company, which is why we’ve been very generous in our offers to purchase certain homes in Mercy. I hope I don’t have to remind you, Miss Valentine, that once the eminent domain laws go into effect, those offers will decrease significantly, and some may even be rescinded.”

  “No, you don’t, Mr. Harper. I’m well aware of how eminent domain laws work. But I do need a few more days to get my affairs in order. Would it be possible for you to email me the documents? That way I can familiarize myself with everything before I call you back on, say, Tuesday?”

  “Tuesday sounds good, Miss Valentine. I’ll have my assistant send you digital copies of the purchase offer for your review and look forward to your call.”

  “Tuesday.” She hung up and jumped into her sundress quickly. What the hell was she going to do when Tuesday rol
led around and she still wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to sign on the dotted line?

  Don’t think about it right now, Tressie.

  Right. That sounded like a plan. A good one, too. Between now and Tuesday, she had plenty of stuff to do to keep her occupied. There was the final draft of her write-up on Mercy’s history to get through,

  Nate’s photo journal to help put together and a publicity plan to come up with. Norman Harper and Consolidated Investments could wait a few more days. By then, she’d have a clearer idea of what direction she definitely needed to go in—sell the house and land and make out like a bandit with the money from the sale, or make out like a bandit from the publicity and credibility that her work with Nate would bring her. The only thing she was sure about right now was that she couldn’t have it both ways.

  Okay, Tressie. Think.

  A lengthy, heartwarming spread in major newspapers across the country was good, but was it good enough? A few sound bites during television news broadcasts would be very beneficial, but would they be enough?

  Maybe, maybe not, she thought as she paced the floor in the bathroom. When it came to the common man going up against powerful corporate entities, the outcome was always a crapshoot. Anything could happen. And, sadly, she hadn’t heard of very many instances when the common man had prevailed. Unless she and Nate came up with a bulletproof plan of action, Mercy was going down, heartwarming story or not.

  She thought about the discovery that she and Nate had made last night. Stumbling upon an authentic stop on the Underground Railroad was big news, but what did it really mean? And if there was one stop, what were the chances that there were more undiscovered stops around town somewhere? Could they find others? And even if they did find other stops in town, what would stop big business from simply erecting signs acknowledging their locations and tearing down and building around them?

 

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