by Celia Aaron
“You’re mine.” He moved a hand to my throat. “I won’t let you go. I can’t. I’ll destroy any man who tries to take you from me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I ran my palm along his scruffy cheek. “I’m here with you.”
He kissed me again, this time gentler, though his need—his need for me—burned me deeper than anything I’d ever felt.
Raw and rough, he spoke his heart. His words created a new sensation inside me, an inexplicable cocktail of hope, heat, and something stronger. I didn’t dare define it, but as I ran my fingers through his unruly hair, I wished the feeling would never stop.
Chapter Twenty-One
Garrett carried my pack out the front door along with a small one of his own. I finished lacing my boots and followed him out into the brusque wind. The sky was overcast, promising rain later as a front moved in. We had until about three in the afternoon to do our first bit of surveying before the rain arrived.
“You sure today’s the day?” He stowed our packs on the back of the red ATVs and glanced at the clouds.
“Yes. I can’t wait around for the sun to pop out in a few days.” I stretched my bad leg, happy with the absence of pain or discomfort. “Besides, I’m already behind.”
I’d scouted the best route to a mounded area on the southeast edge of the property. The ATVs should be able to make it there and back again with ease. I also hoped to check out another odd spot on the satellite image. I’d shown it to Garrett, and we both surmised it was some sort of shack hidden in a thicket along the edge of a dense stand of pines. He’d been just as puzzled as I was about it being on his property. We were equally stumped by the photos in Lillian’s camera, and Garrett couldn’t determine which hunter’s mark graced the trees in the background. Square one wasn’t so bad, though, now that I had Garrett to scout with me.
I hurried to my car and snagged the pistol from my glove box.
Garrett eyed me as I walked up, then reached behind his back and pulled out his own handgun. “We’re armed to the teeth. I don’t think any boars are going to get the drop on us.”
I slung a leg over my ATV. “It’s not the boars I’m worried about.”
He walked over and tipped my chin up. “You’re safe with me. Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch.” Leaning down, he kissed me with a sweetness that infused me with delicious warmth.
“Is that a gentler version of ‘I’ll cut a bitch’?” I smiled against his lips.
“I’ll do a lot worse than that if anyone lays a finger on you.” He claimed my mouth again, more urgent this time.
I answered, my tongue sweeping against his as he roped my ponytail around his fist. It had been five days since I ran from him. We’d spent hours lying in bed, plenty of mealtimes cooking together, and our nights sleeping together. After that, I’d had a couple more days of laughing with Hart, the two men playing off each other and amusing me to no end.
After Garrett had marked his territory via loud, rough sex on the living room couch, Hart didn’t try any more come-ons. The night before he’d returned to school, he’d told tales of campus conquests until the wee hours, though I suspected half of the women he claimed to have bedded were solely in his imagination. Entertaining all the same, and something about him being around lulled Garrett into a happier mood. Quicker to laugh and throw witty comebacks, quicker to kiss me whenever we got a moment alone.
He pulled back. “If we don’t stop, I’m going to drag you into the house and fuck the day away.”
I pinned my lips between my teeth and shook my head. “No can do. Work first.”
He groaned and dropped another kiss on my lips, his beard tickling my cheeks, before backing away. I admired the low-slung jeans, button-down red plaid shirt, and simple sheepskin coat. When he turned to finish stowing his gear, the view of his perfectly toned ass almost made me change my mind about staying home.
“Oh, one more thing.” He grabbed the black helmet hanging from his handlebar and walked over. “Put this on.”
I worked my ponytail down until it hung low against my neck, then slid the helmet on. It fit well, and the visor did a great job of blocking the wind while still giving decent visibility. Once satisfied I was concussion-proof, Garrett walked back to his ATV and mounted it.
I flipped the visor up. “Where’s your helmet?”
His signature smirk appeared. “I live dangerously, Red.” He cranked his machine and drowned out my protest.
I glared at him and hit the ignition on mine. It roared to life.
He pulled my map from his pocket, checked it once, then pointed past the house and into the woods. I nodded and gripped the handlebars.
He eased down the cracked driveway. I followed, puttering along. Then I got a wild hair. Twisting the handle, I gave it some gas and motored around Garrett.
I zoomed across the driveway and onto the leaf-strewn lawn. The tree line loomed ahead, but Garrett flew past me. I tried to bite back my laugh as he gave me an exasperated stare, though a smile crept along the corners of his lips.
He slowed as he came to the edge of the woods. “Keep up, Andretti, and stay behind me.”
I bobbed my head and followed him under the canopy of trees. It took me fifteen minutes, a couple of rotten trees, and a handful of small streams to get the hang of the ATV, but once I figured out my limits, we made good time. We headed straight for the mounded area that could indicate Native American activity.
Garrett followed the map well, and I couldn’t help but be impressed with his skills at navigating the rough terrain and leading us through the tougher areas. We reached the mound just before eleven and parked under a huge oak at the edge of the rise.
“Lunch, then work. You warm enough?” He walked over and pulled my helmet off before removing his gloves and pressing his palms to my cheek.
“I’m warm. Don’t worry.” I ran my palms along the backs of his hands.
“You sure?” He grabbed my fingers. “Your hands could be warmer. I’ll start a fire.”
I laughed and stood, my thighs and ass sore from the bumpy ride. “Calm down, mountain man. Let’s eat lunch, and then do some digging. I’ll warm up fast from the manual labor.”
He kissed my forehead. “I’ll do the digging.”
“Yes, we will do the digging.” I rummaged in my pack and pulled out some sandwiches, chips, and water.
He grumbled and accepted the food. We leaned against the oak and ate.
“What do you think we’ll find?” He let his eyes rake the trees, rocks, and fertile earth.
“I don’t know. That’s half the fun.” I took a drink of the cold water. “Could be nothing, could be arrowheads, pottery, bones—anything that gives us a clue.”
“What about the shack? What do you expect to find there?”
I finished my chicken salad sandwich and stowed the bag in my pocket. “Not sure. Maybe something that will help me find my father’s grave.”
“And what will that do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, if you do find him, what then?”
I hadn’t thought of after. My life over the past few years had been centered on three things: school, my mother, and wondering if my dad was ever coming back. Eventually, the last thing morphed into trying to find out what happened to him. School was almost over, my mother was definitely over, and the truth about my dad was within my grasp.
I walked past Garrett and pulled the long shovel free from the back of my ATV. “I guess then I’ll know.” I shrugged. “I’ll know, and I can move on and finish my degree and start a career somewhere. Finally start a life.”
“Why can’t you do that now?”
I whirled on him. “And just forget about him? Let whoever killed him walk free?”
He stuffed his hands into his coat pockets. “It’s been two years. Any evidence is bound to be gone. I’m only saying I don’t want you to get your hopes up for a resolution that might not happen.”
“I’m going to fin
d out. I always do. I dig.” I held up the shovel for emphasis. “I’ll dig as deep as I have to and for as long as I have to.”
I turned and snagged my measuring tape. Nothing was going to stop me from figuring out what happened. He walked up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.
“I’m not trying to upset you, okay?” His scent surrounded me, comforted me. “I just don’t want you to end up like me with Lillian, always searching for an answer that won’t come.”
I turned my head and stared up into his steely eyes. “You’re not so bad, you know?”
He kissed my hair. “You’re the only one who thinks that.”
“True.”
He laughed and took the shovel from my hand. “Come on. Put me to work.”
We tramped through the underbrush until we came to a spot dotted with younger trees.
I pointed. “Something was here.”
“What makes you say that?” He scanned the ground, which looked much the same as the earth in the rest of the woods.
“Look.” I pointed to the nearest tree. “That’s a bur oak. A notoriously slow grower. It looks about”—I glanced up and did some quick math in my head—“ninety feet high. That means it’s probably a hundred years old, tops.”
“So, that means what exactly?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Nothing on its own, but look at all the shagbark hickories around here.” I pointed out the nearest five trees. “They’re native to these parts, but not in this concentration.”
“So are you saying someone planted them? Because that’s not possible.” He leaned on the nearest oak.
“No. Of course not.” I kept walking through the trees. “This many hickories in various states of growth—they all grew here on their own, but they didn’t start out that way. The Choctaw preferred hickory for all sorts of crafts and projects and also ate the trees’ nuts. So, what the trees are telling me is that, more likely than not, a Choctaw camp was located in this area within the past few hundred years. The hickory trees mature and die relatively quickly, so these weren’t standing back then.” I rubbed my hand down the gnarled bark of the nearest tree. “But their ancestors were.”
Some brown stalks caught my eye. “And this.” I knelt. “Look at all this sassafras. Dormant now, but thick in the summertime. The Choctaw used sassafras in all sorts of medical applications.” My spider-sense tingled out of control. “Something is here. Has to be.”
He walked over to me, his lips twitching. “Would it be weird for me to say that watching you work and figure shit out is a turn-on for me?”
“Not at all.” I pointed to a spot amidst the sassafras. “Let’s dig.”
He sank the shovel into the dirt. “Yes, ma’am.”
I watched as he dug. After a few turns of dirt yielded nothing, I had him dig every few feet on a straight line toward the nearest stream. While he dug, I used a hard rake and scoured the ground in concentric circles around the grove of hickories. If anything lay close to the surface, the rake would disturb it and, hopefully, bring it to my attention.
I checked my watch. We’d been digging and raking for an hour with no luck. Garrett was halfway hidden behind some tree trunks and only had a few more spots to dig before he got into the marshy area next to the stream.
Leaning on my rake, I wiped the sweat off my forehead and stared at the scored ground. “Shit.” I’d really hoped we’d find something.
“Hey!” Garrett’s deep voice cut through the cold.
Adrenaline shot into my veins, and I hurried toward him. “Find something?”
He sank onto his haunches and plucked something from the fresh dirt. “Arrowhead.”
“Crap.” I took off my gloves and held out my hand.
He dropped the arrowhead into my palm. “I thought finding something was good.”
“It is.” I picked my way to the small stream and dunked the artifact into the clear, cold water. Swishing it around, I drew it out and stared at the rough divots along the shaft. “It’s just that I wanted more. But it’s a good start.”
Garrett laughed. “So you found what you were looking for, but you won’t be satisfied until you have it all?”
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Look who’s finally on the same page.”
His jaw tightened. “We need to get home.”
“Why?” I stood up and stowed the arrowhead in my pocket.
“Because it’s time you became acquainted with a few of my favorite toys.”
I walked over to him and tugged on his beard. “I’m so very scared, Mr. Blackwood.”
He gripped my ass and lifted me until I had to straddle him. “Taming your smart mouth is going to be a real pleasure.”
I affected an innocent pout. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He walked until my back struck the nearest tree. “I think you do.” He licked across my lips, then forced his tongue into my mouth.
I opened for him as he pressed me into the tree, his cock already rock-hard against me. He gripped my ponytail and yanked my head back. His teeth hit my throat, teased with a little pressure, then bit down.
“Garrett!” I dug my nails into his side as he kissed back to my mouth, the force of his kiss creating a shockwave of need in me.
He ground against me, my clit taking the full brunt of his cock as he trapped me against the trunk. I wanted him to fuck me right there, up against the tree like two wild animals. He must have had the same thought, because he groaned into my mouth and skated his fingers down to my jeans.
Something popped, and the skin along the top of my shoulder burned. Garrett’s body shuddered and he broke our kiss. His brows drew together, confusion washing across his face.
“What? What is it?” I stared at him.
Another pop, and the bark next to my head burst into shards of wood.
“Down!” He sank to his knees and dragged me around to the back of the tree, then covered me with his body.
It was only then that I noticed the crimson stain spreading along his chest and soaking through the sheepskin coat.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rain soaked through my clothes until my skin crawled, my teeth chattering nonstop. Garrett sat behind me on the ATV, his head lolling forward onto my trembling shoulder every so often. He’d stopped shaking, which worried me more than anything else.
We’d waited behind the tree while I did my best to stop Garrett’s bleeding. The bullet had gone straight through, but I couldn’t tell if it had hit any organs. The blood worried me, the crimson stain soaking his shirt despite my attempts to stanch the flow. And his breathing had taken on an ugly wheeze.
He’d wanted to wait until dark before we moved, but I refused. He couldn’t stay out in the frigid woods for that long with major blood loss. So, despite his protests, I’d darted out to an ATV, started it up and driven it to where he was. He’d managed to climb on behind me, and then we took off through the woods.
The rain had set in only an hour later, the smell of water mixing with the dirt. The forest floor became a sloppy mess, and I couldn’t fight the chill. Instead of trying to make it to the house, which was two more hours away, I headed for the shack. I prayed that it still had a roof. If I could get us somewhere dry, I could tend to Garrett and warm him up.
I pushed ahead through a thicket, pinning the vines and scraping brush beneath the ATV. At least the shack was well hidden, though I had no reason to believe that whoever shot Garrett didn’t know about it. I stowed that thought and decided to worry about it later. I had enough on my plate.
Once through the first wall of foliage, I saw the shack ahead. About ten feet by ten feet, the wooden structure had been constructed of roughly-hewn wood from nearby trees. The roof consisted of a pine thatch, one corner completely rotted through. Fuck.
I motored up to it and peered through the darkened doorway. No windows greeted me, just a narrow entry. It would have to do. A burst of lightning shot across the sky, and the thunder chased it down, the rumb
le deep and loud.
“Garrett.”
“Mmph.” He squeezed around my waist.
“Come on. We’re here. I have to get you inside.” I threw my leg over and slid off the ATV.
He stared up at me with glassy eyes, his wet hair plastered to his head. “Here?” His breath wheezed in and out.
“Yes.” I dug in my pack and grabbed my gun, then found my flashlight, which I clamped between my teeth.
I slung his arm over my shoulders and pulled, keeping my gun in my free hand.
He stumbled to his feet, and I struggled under his weight.
He stopped, his breath a rattle. “This isn’t the house.”
“Uh huh,” I mumbled around the flashlight and helped him walk forward as the rain intensified, the sheets broken up by the pine boughs overhead.
Training the gun on the door, I followed the beam of light and checked the dank interior. The floor was made of packed dirt and strewn with pine needles. A pile of leaves in one corner appeared to be an abandoned critter nest of some sort. The back left side was wet, water pouring through the hole in the ceiling. Not good, but the ground sloped, so the water ran out between the rough planks. I could work with that. I dropped the flashlight and pulled Garrett along.
“Let’s go.” I dragged him inside, turning sideways so we could navigate through the narrow door.
My back ached, and I wondered if I’d pulled something as I lowered him to the ground in the dry corner.
“Stay.” I retrieved the flashlight and did one more sweep just to make sure nothing was going to jump out.
Dashing back to the ATV, I grabbed our bags and dumped them inside the door. My face and hands were so cold they hurt. Not a good sign. Garrett rested against the wall, his eyes closed.
Even in the dim shack, I could tell his skin was ghostly pale. A frozen hand squeezed my heart, and I snapped. “Garrett!”
His eyes fluttered open. “Yeah?”
“Stay awake, okay?”
“Bossy. I like it.”
I tore through my pack and snagged my Superman lunch box.
