Starlight Dunes

by Vickie McKeehan

  “It’s private land, owned by my grandfather’s people for centuries. I’ve been coming here all my life.”

  “Wow! I don’t even want to risk touching it for fear I’ll spoil it in some way. I should’ve known Marcus Cody was holding back. He drove me all the way down to Santa Barbara, in the opposite direction I might add, to make certain I didn’t go near his own personal part of history right here. It worked.” She rocked back on her heels and tossed in, “I guess I can’t blame him.”

  “If he knew I brought you here—”

  “He’d be furious. Got it. He won’t find it out from me but he’s bound to—I don’t know—pick up on some kind of vibe. I don’t want you in trouble with your own father because of this.”

  “I’m sure he will know, maybe even sense it now, but I’ll deal with it when he does because I intend to tell him myself at the right time.”

  “Brave man. Have you ever brought—?”

  “No, it’s a sign of trust. You trusted me enough to tell me about Luke. This is my way of returning the favor.”

  Her hand flew to her breast. “I’m blown away by that.” She stepped to him then, ran her hand down his cheek. “You have an incredible heart, not to mention an incredible mouth.”

  He hauled her up and against his chest. They were eye to eye, dark chocolate to dark chocolate. He bent his head to meet her lips. Tugging, nipping in need and want, they let themselves enjoy the buildup, the edge, right up to fireworks. “I’ve half a mind to take you right here.”

  “Oh that can be arranged.” She sought out where she’d dropped the blanket.

  His eyes tracked hers and twinkled at the implication. He went over to pick it up, spread it out over the hard ground.

  All the while his movements let her know what was about to happen. That’s why she was surprised when he said, “So you see things in the past just by touching them? That’s quite a gift. How long have you known you could do it?”

  “Who told you that?”

  “I do have my own sense about things. Besides, you mentioned as much. And I saw you at the site when you went somewhere else, like in a trance but not.”

  She sighed. “The past comes alive for me. It always has. If only I could use it to somehow help me locate Luke.”

  Knowing Luke was a sensitive subject, he suggested, “Let’s try something.” He dropped to the blanket, patted the space beside him. “Sit down and tell me what you feel in here, what you see.” When he saw the questions form on her face, he added, “It’s okay to reach out and touch.” To prod her a bit, he tugged her toward him, keeping her hand in his.

  Prompted, she sat down next to him, settled into the lotus position.

  When she was ready, they reached out together and glided their fingers along the stone wall. Flashes, bits of images, shot through both. They saw a bustling village where its people went about their daily lives of living and getting things done in organized fashion.

  Teams of boat builders gathered onshore. At one end of the beach, the men carved out the trunk of a sturdy redwood as they used its length to shape and form what would eventually become a twenty-foot-long tomol.

  Farther down the stretch of sand, another group of men worked to smooth out logs using their meager tools of sharkskin, shells or bone. Yet another team busied themselves with planking and sealing the sides of an already carved out canoe with glue they’d made from pine pitch so that it would hold together in the water.

  Some distance inland, large thatched dome structures made from willow reeds and cattails were scattered throughout the encampment. Smoke curled up through the tops.

  Nursing babies nestled against mothers in their time-old tradition. Women sat in groups cracking and peeling acorns out of their shells then sifting the kernels into flour. They would in turn, leach out the bitter tannin of the nut by dousing the mixture with water. For hours they worked at prepping the grainy texture into mush and then into dough that would set overnight to be cooked in the oven pits they’d built into the hillside.

  As some labored over meal preparation, others strung together beads from the olivella shell that would adorn their dresses and capes.

  Using stone bowls and pots, they tended to the communal fires set around the campsite while their supper of oyster stew or black abalone, simmered over the hearth.

  Once night fell though, the work came to a grinding halt as the villagers came in from their chores and gathered to eat. As the stars began to wink to life, the place took on a festive atmosphere. Shamans began to sing. Children joined in, keeping time to the song with the clam shell rattles their mother’s had made them.

  Children.

  At the sight of little ones, Brent sensed River had seen enough. He squeezed her hand to bring her back to the present and noticed her shivering. “Are you cold? Here put on my jacket.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. I’m not really, at least not when I’m with you.” With that, she burrowed her body into his.

  Brent removed his jacket anyway and draped it around her shoulders. In the waning afternoon light, he angled his head to find her mouth. Tender and gentle, he drew the kiss out until finally he said, “I’ll go out, gather wood for a fire. It’ll make it nice and toasty in here for when—”

  The idea had her purring out a sigh. “Oh. A fire would be lovely. And we have all manner of food to hold us for the rest of the day.”

  As he got to his feet, she offered, “Mind if I help?”

  “Nope. Let’s go,” he said tugging her up and out into the bright light.

  Together they hunted down every available branch and twig and stick they could find. She gathered dry leaves to use for kindling. After twenty minutes or so, arms loaded down, they made their way back inside with an air of sexual tension hanging between them brimming on the surface.

  Brent kneeled in the center of the room at a shallow, circular pit in the floor. It looked as though it had been used many times before. He took out matches from his pocket, lit the leaves.

  At the first snap and pop of fire, impatience nagged at him. River sensed it, too. “Just so you know I’m not that hungry for food.”

  His toothy grin in response warmed her to the bone. She saw the want in his eyes, as they flickered with the same longing she felt. Because of that, she went to him, took his face between both hands, brought his mouth down to fit hers.

  All the while her blood heated and shot straight to the core. A fine white spear of need kindled and caught.

  They toed off their shoes where they stood.

  He peeled off her top, slid off her jeans. She helped him out of his.

  Wrapped in each other, a hot white blaze had him grabbing her ass, hefting her up and off the floor.

  Her arms laced around his neck, her legs went around his waist.

  They sunk like that to the blanket and shifted to deal with the rough floor underneath. His fingers explored curves and folds. He leaned her back. Hovering over her, his muscles bunching, he skimmed downward with his tongue. Grazing, he placed gentle kisses on her belly, that portion that protruded a little where she’d once carried her son. His lips drifted to her center, found her wet and ready.

  Firelight shimmered off the walls. The bold colors turned to shadows as she closed her eyes. Pleasure built and soared. She felt like she’d taken flight. She climbed to that gilded level where giddiness vied for dizzy. It took hold until she fractured into glorious bits of soft golden beams all around her, through her.

  But then an urgent demand rose in her. “Now, Brent! Now!” she begged.

  He reversed their positions, leaving him to the stony surface beneath. Guiding her over him, he murmured softly to her in the dialect of his ancestors. Using the language of the ancient Chumash, he spoke of endearments he’d never felt before.

  They began to sail as one, ever higher, through wild seas, through billowing whitecaps to water as smooth and sultry as silk. When the surf broke and evened out, they floated and drifted on the glossy waves
. Afterward, they lay tangled, bundled as one.

  Out of breath, he asked, “Are you cold?”

  A little winded herself she whooshed out, “I’m as warm as I’ve ever been. Couldn’t you tell?”

  “I could. I’m not even certain we needed the fire since we made our own.”

  “Can you imagine it? Making love in this place, so special, so remote and knowing we aren’t the first to do it here.”

  He cocked a brow. “How do you know that?”

  “I can see it, feel the history. Can’t you feel the vibe? It’s a good one for sex. And because of it, I feel as though we’re the only two people in the world right now.”

  He ran his fingers through her hair. “Right now, we are. Take a look at those stars above us.”

  It was the first time she realized dusk had fallen. She breathed in the cool evening air and glanced into the glimmering night sky overhead. “Those stars look like we’ve been sprinkled with glitter of our very own. Look there, see the W shape? That’s the constellation, Cassiopeia.”

  “And see the double star, the brightest in the southern sky over there,” Brent pointed out.

  “I feel as though I’m back in another time period, maybe getting another chance at not making the same mistakes I have before tonight.”

  “Shh. Mistakes in life are inevitable no matter what century you find yourself in. Besides, I like it just fine right here where we are.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Thanks for that.”

  He bumped his hip to hers. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “Then let’s dig in. Clothing is optional.”

  They didn’t bother with their clothes. Instead they wrapped up in the blankets and then opened the wine she’d lugged from the truck—a more than decent chardonnay. They unpacked roast chicken thanks to the cook, Max Bingham, at the Hilltop Diner and potato wedges, seasoned with rosemary and olive oil.

  “I had no idea the Diner prepared food that tasted so delicious,” River admitted as she patted her stomach. “Or maybe I just worked up an appetite,” she tossed out with a gleam in her eye.

  “Not many people know this but Max used to work as a chef back in Texas for a chain restaurant. At some point he lost his job and he and Margie hooked up, drifted to California and somehow ended up in Pelican Pointe. Even though Max can throw a terrific meal together, I’d say it’s more like we both worked up an insatiable hunger.” He ran a hand down to her bare breast, toyed with a hard nipple before taking it into his mouth.

  “Mmm, looks like you’re working up another.”

  With that, she shoved him to his back and straddled his naked torso. At the need she saw swimming in his eyes she started riding hard to prove it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Finding human remains always brought out the press. It had been a minor miracle they’d been able to stave off the blitz of reporters until now.

  The Southwest Tribal Foundation, or more like River’s boss, Emilio Matias, believed it best to deal with the event head on. Because of that, he’d called a press conference for bright and early Monday morning and left it to River to handle the local television reporters.

  They advanced on the site out of Santa Cruz, and as far away as San Francisco and Los Angeles. They fired questions at the project leader, intending to put River on the hot seat.

  There was always one in the crowd, some persistent journalist like a dog with a bone, who wouldn’t let go of an issue, determined to hog the Q & A session. Today, a perky blonde out of Santa Cruz who identified herself as Tamara Davis just wouldn’t shut up.

  “How do you respond to those people who say you and your crew are nothing more than tomb raiders?”

  “I’d remind them that this site was not officially a tomb, none that we knew of anyway. No one had an inkling this type of settlement existed here until a mudslide revealed what was underneath. And learning about the past always helps us with the future.”

  “What about the rumors that the site will be cursed after the removal of the bodies?”

  “That’s a popular belief in Native American legends. But I should remind you that the Egyptians and Peruvians felt much the same way. There’s even one myth about the Ice Man found in the Alps that says disturbing the dead results in death for all those who participate in the removal.”

  “Aren’t you scared of that?”

  River smiled. “Not really.”

  “What exactly are the kinds of things you’ve found so far other than the human bones?”

  “Along with the canoe, which we have yet to fully extract, we’ve found various shell beads, bows, arrows, steatite used for carving the jewelry they wore, mostly serpentine pieces, and a good number of stone bowls. The list goes on and is really too numerous to mention in detail. The complete list appears in the media packet you were given.”

  “Do you plan any trips down to Simi Valley to get a better feel for the painted caves there? Those belonged to the Chumash as well?”

  The blonde had done her homework River decided as she pointed out, “You can’t go see Burro Flats without obtaining special permission. The land’s owned by Boeing. Even though I’ve put in a request to see the pictographs there, it isn’t likely me or any member of my team will be heading down there anytime soon.” Because of the way she’d spent her Sunday thanks to Brent, she’d already experienced the ultimate in cave dwellings anyway. So why leave the area? It wasn’t like Burro Flats could top “Starlight Dunes.”

  “In your opinion do you think this site was used for human sacrifices?”

  Ah, thought River, the opportunity to set the public straight on that score. She’d wondered when someone would get around to that leap of logic. She shook her head. “No. There is absolutely no indication that the Chumash lived any other way than to value their families and their traditions. They were among the first boat builders. They fought for what was theirs by defending their territory against the invading Shoshone on occasion but they were not known to war with anyone unless provoked.”

  “How did they live?”

  “They thrived off what the land and the water provided. They held dances and ceremonies to honor nature, the summer and winter solstices, told stories around campfires, and fed entire villages with their keen expertise in hunting and fishing.”

  She looked good on camera, Brent decided as he watched River answer questions with some definite skill at PR and a fiery passion for her work. But then she usually looked damn good doing just about anything wherever she went.

  He still remembered last night and how they’d moved together in the light and the dark. Since they’d moved like that several times over, he noted she hadn’t minded making love in a cave. In fact, she’d seemed stoked at the setting and right at home in the wild.

  About that time the dogged newscaster turned her head, shot Brent a lethal stare. It was then he remembered Tamara. They’d been quite the item—for about six weeks—two years earlier. The breakup hadn’t been without resentment on her part.

  Brent shifted his feet as River put an end to the news conference. As soon as she was sure the camera stopped rolling, Tamara wasted no time storming over to where he stood on the sand. He braced himself for a confrontation with a very pissed off female still holding a grudge after all this time.

  While the sunny blonde read the sheriff the riot act, River stood back and took in the show. It wasn’t every day a tall, lanky hunk faced down the wrath of a woman who obviously wanted to get in his face.

  Even though she couldn’t read lips from this distance, River could make out the gist of the encounter. Someone had unceremoniously dumped someone via text message and they were still miffed about it. As soon as Tamara finished her profanity-laced bluster and headed for her news van, River strolled over to Brent. Calm as glass, she deadpanned, “Women. What’re you gonna do, huh?”

  “You heard all that?”

  “Didn’t have to. That was one ticked off female. Lesson one. You should never break up vi
a text or email.”

  “That isn’t true. I read on the Internet texting is the best way to avoid a scene.”

  “You mean like that one?”

  Brent roared with laughter. “You have a point, even if she did wait two years to do it.” For some reason, he felt the need to touch her. So he went on instinct, plucked her off the ground and took her mouth right there on the beach. They went at each other until he plopped her back on her feet.

  “Seems to me you do that a little too well for someone who takes dating tips seriously from the Internet.” River shook her head in sympathy. “I had no idea anyone actually read those blogs. By the way, thanks for handling the council this morning. We’ll be able to remove the first skeletal remains by mid-week. I’d say the second will take a couple of days longer because of how far down the bones are embedded.”

  “I’m glad I could be the go-between. The council has a tendency to dial up their lawyers if they aren’t happy depending on the degree of dissatisfaction.”

  “Don’t I know it? Come on,” she said, putting her arm through his. “I’ll buy you a lousy cup of coffee Julian made and give you the dime tour inside the RV.” It had been a good long while since she’d flirted. But after the day they’d spent together yesterday, she drew him closer, leaned in to nibble on his ear and whispered, “And if you’re very good, I’ll get rid of my crew so we can make out before I have to go back to work.”