The Heart Will Lead You Home

by Kristin Leedy

  “Hey, you made it after all,” Hank called out just before Colin took him to the ground. “Hey! I thought this was supposed to be touch football,” he complained.

  “It is touch football. I touched you when I tackled you, didn’t I?”

  Hank eyed him crossly, rubbed the sore spot on his butt, and scrambled back up from the ground with Bud’s help.

  “Good news boys,” Jade called from the other side of the campsite. “You guys get to show us you’re manly ways of setting up a tent.” She smiled her most charming smile, but the boys gave her half a glance, laughed her off and kept playing. All expect Payton who jogged over to where Lizzie and Grace were unloading supplies from the car. He snagged Lizzie around the waist, pulling her back against him and spinning her in fast circles, around and around. When he stopped he bent over her and gave her an upside down kiss. Lizzie noted with surprise that he didn’t even seem phased that the other guys made loud kissy noises from the make shift football field.

  “Okay, we’ve got hot dogs, hot cocoa, chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers- pretty much your basic camping necessities. Who brought the coat hangers,” Grace asked as she chucked the food supplies out onto the ground.

  “Coat hangers?” Colin questioned as he strolled up to the car. “Who do you think we are, civilized society? You’re supposed to use sticks to roast marshmallows, dimwit.” He flicked her playfully on the head and Grace gave him a narrow-slitted glare before turning back to the vehicle.

  From across the campsite Bud yelled, “Hey, I have a great idea. After it gets dark we can all strip naked and go streaking!”

  “Good one, Bud,” one of the other guys retorted, “I’m sure all of Mr. Weatherby’s cows will get a kick out of that.” The rest of the group laughed.

  Just then Summer pulled up in her car and the gang cheered. “Yea, she decided to come to the campout after all.” She rolled her eyes and got out of the car.

  “Ha, ha. Very funny. You guys know I’m never on time. Cut me some slack. What’re you gonna do, give me detention?”

  “No, but I might send you to the tent for time out,” Hank said as he sauntered over and bent her over with a kiss. The rest of the group made kissy noises like they had for Payton and Lizzie.

  The girls spent the afternoon painting each other’s toe nails Vampire Red and cheering for the boys as they played touch football and arm wrestled. Towards sunset they built a campfire and the guys took on the macho role of roasting the hotdogs while the girls set out paper plates on the blanket Jade brought for the picnic area. After the dogs had been severely blackened and everyone griped about it for a good minute, they chowed down on the food and laughed at the stupid stunt Bud had pulled to try and get some vulnerable ninth grade girl to go out with him. Before the sun set completely behind the trees, the guys pulled up a few decaying tree stumps for them to sit on around the campfire, and gathered up a few more logs to throw on the fire, while the girls tried as best they could to clean up the mess they had made with dinner.

  Sometime after the sun went down and the stars had begun to glow in the night sky, Payton came and found Lizzie enjoying the warmth from the fire next to Grace on one of the old logs. He straddled the log, shifting her off of it and into the V his body made, wrapping her up in his warmth.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, looking down into her upturned face, noting the way her thin body had begun to shake from the chill in the air.

  “Hmm, I think I’ll be okay now.”

  “Good. Stick close then because I think Colin’s about to start his ghost story melodrama.”

  “What’s that? Did I hear my name and ghost stories?”

  Everyone in the group groaned.

  “Ah, come on. You know I tell the best stories. I’ve even got a new one I saved up to tell just for this trip. You see, about a hundred years ago Mr. Weatherby’s father lived out here on this farmland. Now, you think Mr. Weatherby was a crotchety old man, you should have met his father-“

  “And you have,” snickered Bud from across the campfire. Colin eyed him then shook his head.

  “I’m trying to add a little enthusiasm to the story, Bud. Now, as I was saying, Mr. Weatherby’s father lived out here. Well, that man…”

  Lizzie snuggled back in the warmth of Payton’s body, tuning out Colin’s words but letting the deep timbre of it wash over her along with the cozy heat from the fire. She could hear night crickets calling to each other, and somewhere in the night an owl let out a hoot. Her head bobbed back and forth with the rise and fall of Payton’s strong chest, and she smiled when she felt him begin to gently stroke his hand up her sides where he was holding on to her.

  His thumb gently grazed the edge of one of her breasts and she felt her body tingle in its wake. A little shiver of delight coursed through her. She thought at first Payton had inadvertently brushed her that way so when she felt him stroke her body again she giggled quietly and felt her body tingle again. With each successive stroke she felt her body grow warmer until she was almost squirming under his torture. She knew, though, that Payton felt the same because she could feel his body hard and long against her back.

  By the time Colin finished his ghost story Lizzie’s body was so enflamed with desire she could barely control herself long enough to make up a decent excuse and head for the tent she and Payton would share that night. Not long after she heard Payton mumble something and head her way. She could hear his heavy footsteps as he crunched among the dead leaves on the ground and she felt her body growing tense with her excitement.

  In the weeks since they’d first made love Lizzie had grown by leaps in bounds in her confidence at making love. Payton had been so generous in his patience and thoughtfulness at teaching her how to make love that she could hardly remember the scared, tentative girl she’d been then. “Making love is an art, Liz. And being able to do it takes practice.” Practice they had done, and Lizzie was more than ready by the time Payton climbed through the entrance to the tent and zipped it shut behind him.

  “Man, I’m tired. I think I’m going to hit the hay and get some shut eye.” He yawned deeply as he turned toward her, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away.

  “Me, too,” Lizzie said with a yawn of her own. She snuggled down deeper in the pair of sleeping bags that they’d zipped together to share, enjoying the feel of the slick material against her naked flesh. She couldn’t wait to see Payton’s face when he found out.

  He made a big deal out of digging around in his bag for a few minutes just so he could watch her squirm in anticipation, before finally stripping off his jeans and t-shirt leaving him naked except for his boxers. He flicked off his flashlight and dove under the covers. A second later she heard a sharp hiss of indrawn breath. She smiled at him in the dark, as he turned to face her so they were both lying on their sides.

  There was a full moon out that weekend, and a generous portion of light filtered through the blue and red material of the tent so that she could see him watching her. The brilliant white of his teeth flashed and she felt his hand touch the soft skin of her hips. It lingered there for a minute before he slowly stroked up until he brushed the outer edge of a breast. Lizzie felt her nipple pucker, and she moved a little to give him easier access to her body.

  “Well, I suppose it’s safe to say that I’m not too tired anymore.”

  Lizzie giggled. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

  He took her hand and pushed it down so she cupped him outside of his boxers. “What do you think?”

  Her eyes rounded, but she wasn’t shocked. Instead she reveled that she was the cause of such a wondrous thing. “I suppose I did.”

  He put his arm around her possessively and slid her so she was lying on top of him. “What do you propose we do about it?” He nipped her lips and pulled back so he could watch her face expectantly.

  Lizzie’s smile was full of seduction. “I think I have an idea.” She put her knees of either side of him and sat back. “And it doesn’t involv
e these,” she said as she slid his boxers off him.

  Then Lizzie set off in a tour of his body. She explored every last inch of him and when he couldn’t take anymore he pulled her up so she was face to face with him. “Your turn,” he said, rolling with her until she was underneath him and he had pinned her arms above her head.

  His lips claimed hers and ran a trail from her lips down her neck by way of a winding path past her earlobes and in the hollow between her clavicles until they found the valley between her breasts. Tenderly he kissed the skin there then licked a trail up the gentle slopes to their peaks. He blew a cool breeze over them and watched as they puckered into tight little pen tips. Then he suckled them until they had warmed and he could repeat the process over again.

  He could hear Lizzie whimpering, trying not to make too much noise so the others wouldn’t hear them. His hand stroked down her body and found her more than ready. She arched against him, silently pleading with him to give them both what they wanted. He came up over her, putting his weight on her as her whispered in her ear.

  Little prickles of hot, thrilling heat stabbed at her when he whispered, “Put it where you want it, sweetheart.” She looked up in his eyes, and after taking a deep breath she moved him so he was ready to claim her.

  She thrust against him and felt his hard body push inside. His mouth covered hers just in time to capture the moan she released. She sighed with long awaited contentment as he withdrew and pushed inside once more. She could feel his weight, heavy and wonderful, on top of her, and she felt so safe there, fully protected underneath this wonderful, powerful man.

  His body began to shake with the need to release himself, but he looked down into her eyes with all the patience in the world. “That’s right, baby. Yeah, just like that,” he whispered as she moved against him, her breasts pushing hard against his chest. “God, you are so beautiful like this.” His voice was almost reverent.

  She could feel her body coiling, getting ready to burst, and she forced herself to open her eyes and stare long and hard into his instead of closing them to enjoy the moment. The green of his eyes linked with the green of hers and she felt herself falling deeper and deeper into his spell. Her world filled with green, her senses consumed with the furnace inside her that was begging to explode, and she gripped him hard, her hands holding his arms, her legs wrapping around his hips.

  “Fly, baby. Fly,” she heard from somewhere in the back of her mind, and then she knew nothing except that a man named Payton Cartwright who kissed like a god and made love even better had just set her free yet another time. She felt his body tighten, all his muscles going rigid and in the next beat he was flying with her.

  “Tell me you believe in soul mates now, Lizzie,” he said sometime later when they’d finally gained conscious thought.

  “Oh, yes. I believe I do.”

  She could die right then, in his arms, and be a very, very happy woman.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Payton sat on the hard wooden bench in the locker room listening to the deafening roar of the crowd as the cheerleaders flipped and tumbled and pumped up the fans for the second half of the game. Sweat dripped from his hair, blood trickled down his arms, and despair pumped through his veins. He had one hell of a job to do to pull his team out of the trenches these next two quarters.

  It was the last game before the State Championship game, and the favored team for the playoffs had somehow found itself down three points to the opposing team. Payton snuffed out the sound of the band playing and focused in on the eerily quiet voice of the coach. He knew the coach was furious by his reddened face and bulging neck veins, but he’d lost his voice in the first quarter he’d been screaming so loudly at his players.

  “You no good players better get out there and… I want to see that ball move…If you don’t get your hands out and ready to…And I had better see some fancy footwork or I will personally….”

  Payton hung his head and tried to think of what plays he could run to save the team from considerable disappointment, but his mental list of plays came up blank. Nothing registered except his father’s voice still echoing in his head. Sorry, bucko, but I’ve got to be out of town this weekend. I’m leaving right after work Friday afternoon and I won’t be back until Monday night late. But don’t worry, I’ll be thinking of you the whole time. Almost as an afterthought he added, “You’ll take care of your mama, won’t you, son? That’s my boy.”

  Payton rubbed the spot on his shoulder where his father had chucked him, and tried to forget how disappointed he was that his father wasn’t there. He snapped back to reality just as the coach let out one more curse just for good measure, finished his rampage and sent the players back out onto the field. Payton took one more deep breath, grabbed his helmet, and followed the team.

  Lizzie watched from the stands, screaming along with the rest of the stadium, as the team moved back out onto the field. She spotted number sixteen, her number sixteen, and prayed that he could lead them to victory after all. He had his helmet on so she couldn’t read his face, but she guessed he was probably tense and ready to get the show on the road. He had been edgy about this game all week, and she was more than a little afraid that the pressure from the town was making him crack.

  The first few plays of the third quarter went smoothly, and Dixie steadily worked its way down the field to the Clinton Ram’s fifteen yard line. The ball snapped, the crowd erupted as Payton sent out a perfect pass just barely fitting between two hulking Rams players. At the last second the ball was intercepted by a Ram defensive lineman, and he ran it all the way in for a touchdown.

  The announcer came over the speaker. “Well, folks, it’s not looking good for Dixie. Can Number Sixteen pull out a few recovery plays? We’ll have to wait and see.” Even the cheerleaders looked doubtful at this point, Lizzie secretly suspected they enjoyed doing all those crazy push-ups.

  In the end it didn’t matter how much the cheerleaders chanted, the crowd cheered, or how often the announcer questioned the players’ abilities. It didn’t even matter how hard Payton struggled to get his ball through to the end-zone. DixieAcademy lost the game 27 to 7, and Payton felt the world land squarely on top of his shoulders. He wanted to bury his head in his locker and never dig it back out.

  Lizzie was sitting on the hood of his truck waiting for him when he walked up the ramp from the locker room to the parking lot. He let out a muffled curse and shoved his duffle bag farther onto his shoulder. The last person he wanted to see right now was Lizzie. She’d only try to say something sweet, and give him a hug, and try to make things all better when they really weren’t. Nothing could make this night better right then, not even the most special person in the world.

  He tried not to look directly at her as he approached the truck so he wouldn’t encourage any more conversation than was necessary. Obviously she wasn’t taking the hint because she hopped off the hood in that ridiculously wonderful Lizzie way that made him hate her even more right then. Didn’t she have any sense to know when someone wanted company and when they didn’t?

  “Hey, you.” Lizzie tucked her hands in her blue jean jacket. “How’re you doing?”

  He hated the sympathy in her eyes almost as much as he hated it in her voice.

  “Fine.” He opened the door to his truck and threw the duffel bag across to the other side, hopping in before she could wrap her arms around him. The last thing he wanted was for her to touch him. He had too much pent up inside of him right now, and he couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t take it out on her if she made contact.

  “It’s going to be okay, Payton. No one’s angry with you.” He was angry with him, and besides he knew she was just being nice so he grunted in protest.

  “Well, Grace and I are headed over to the post-game party. You’re coming aren’t you?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” He shoved his fingers through his still wet hair and drummed his fingers on the door impatiently. “Look, I’ve got to get home and check on my mom.
I’ll catch you later, alright?”

  She eyed him warily, trying not to get her feelings hurt that he so obviously didn’t want to be with her tonight. She knew him too well, and could see he was hurting from their loss and just needed time to lick his wounds, but deep inside she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was upset at her for some reason as well. She thought she might know why.

  She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing nerves. The night before, while they were making love she had been so moved that she couldn’t hold back what she felt for him any longer. She had looked deep into his eyes, a tear trailing down her cheek and explained that she had loved him for years. Something in his eyes glittered, and she would never forget the way he had so tenderly wiped the tear from her cheek. She thought that the way he had smiled into her eyes and kissed the tip of her nose after she told him meant that he felt the same, or at least he felt something pretty strong for her as well. But now she wasn’t so sure.

  “Well, call me tomorrow, okay?”

  “Fine.”

  He wanted to kick himself for it, but something mean had taken residence in his heart that evening so when Lizzie leaned in through the window to give him a kiss he turned his head and let her brush his cheek instead of his lips. He roared the engine to life and peeled out of the parking lot like the hormonal teenage boy he was. He tried not to care that he saw Lizzie from his rearview mirror standing there staring after him with what looked close to tears swimming in her eyes.

  He took a detour through the countryside on his way home from the game. The cool night air felt good whipping through the windows and over his hot skin. He hoped that the long drive and cool air might calm his nerves, but he couldn’t get the game and all the stupid plays he’d made out of his head, or the fact that his father hadn’t been there because he’d had to be out of town on work. His father had always been there for him, cheering him on at all his games. Only this year his dad had seemed so preoccupied with work.