Follow the Sun

Jeopard gazed at her with bemused admiration. “You’re becoming a Cherokee.”

  “Yes.” She touched the thick silver chain and looked a little downcast. “I even feel oppressed now.”

  THAT REMARK STAYED with him, making him feel terrible. He moved back on the creek bank, holding the end of the chain but trying to let her have some privacy. There was something reverent about the way she stood in the creek watching the sun rise over the distant mountains.

  She had her skirt tucked up to her thighs; regardless of what her ritual meant, Jeopard wouldn’t have minded standing there every day at dawn watching the water touch her. He envied it that intimacy.

  She bent and scooped water into her hands. “There were a number of ceremonies connected to the rivers and creeks,” she called over her shoulder. “The basic idea is that the water cleans your spirit.”

  Jeopard wondered why she felt the need for it that morning. Was she trying to say that she felt guilty for thinking so badly of him?

  “Maybe I should go stand under the waterfall,” he called back.

  She nodded. “Maybe we both should.”

  “Come on! Let’s do it!”

  She looked at him in astonishment, then smiled for the first time since he’d kidnapped her. “All right!”

  Jeopard made his way along the bank while she waded up the creek. When they neared the waterfall and its pool she stopped just out of the reach of the spray, shivering.

  “It’s cold enough to make a person feel very virtuous,” she said between chattering teeth.

  “Good. I need that.”

  Jeopard wore only shorts and hiking shoes. He climbed onto a rock by the pool, kicked off the shoes, and began tugging at his shorts. She looked up at him wide-eyed.

  “Maybe you want to wear wet clothes all morning, but I don’t,” he explained, squinting at her innocently.

  “Hmmmph.” She pulled her shirt over her head, revealing a bra so flimsy, it was transparent.

  Jeopard did a double-take. “I’ve never seen that before.”

  “Drake brought it. I told him that I needed a spare.”

  “I’d like to have seen the saleswoman’s face when seven feet of Drake Lancaster walked into the lingerie department.”

  “I think Drake has a romantic side.”

  “No. He’s not comfortable around women. They’re intimidated by his size and the fact that he’s such a loner. It’s a shame, because he’s a good man.”

  “Any man who picks out lingerie like this is more comfortable around women than you think.”

  Tess removed the bra and held it in her hand. It was obvious to Jeopard that she intended to look at the bra and not at him, now that he was naked and she was bare from the waist up.

  She has the right idea, he thought as he felt a tightening low in his belly. Carrying the end of her chain as usual. Jeopard quickly stepped under the waterfall and stood with his back to her. He could feel his skin shrinking from the frigid shower.

  “Virtue!” he shouted in a strangled voice. “Give me virtue!”

  A few seconds later she crept under the fall and stood beside him. He looked at her through the veil of water pouring over their heads. She’d removed the rest of her clothes.

  She had her eyes shut and her arms crossed over her chest. She shivered violently and hugged herself, then opened her eyes and gave him a watery smile.

  Progress, he thought. She was freezing, but she was warming up.

  A streak of light slipped through the water, turning it into a shower of pearls. They stood there gazing at the magical sight, then looked at each other.

  His heart pounding. Jeopard held out his arms. Sorrow and frustration filled her eyes. She nodded toward the end of her chain, which he still held in one hand.

  He dropped it. It disappeared into the water around their legs. She looked as if she were bound to the waterfall and the mountain.

  In a way, she was. Her Cherokee ancestors had been part of this land for centuries.

  Jeopard groaned inwardly. If she’d let him, he’d cherish that heritage and become part of her life. He continued to hold his hands out to her.

  She pointed to the chain. “Promise me that you’ll take this off when we get back to the cave. And you’ll believe what I’ve told you about the blue diamond.”

  After a tormented moment. Jeopard lowered his arms to his side and shook his head wearily. She pressed her hand over her mouth in distress.

  With quick, angry movements she pulled the chain out of the pool and gave the end to him. She left him standing under the beautiful water alone, and went to dress.

  TESS DIMLY REMEMBERED some rules about decorum and elegance; rules she’d learned at boarding school in England. They belonged to another life, one she didn’t miss.

  She loved the feel of the dark, damp earth under her knees and hands as she knelt on the forest floor, digging into it with a large spoon. She almost forgot that Jeopard sat at the other end of the chain, watching her with a troubled expression.

  She almost forgot that she’d wanted to throw herself into his arms at the waterfall this morning; that she’d been tempted to say that nothing mattered but taking him into her heart and her body again. What was she becoming, a chained pet devoted to her master and ready to do whatever he wanted? No.

  “Got it,” she said excitedly, and held up a dirty root for Jeopard’s perusal.

  “Oink,” he replied.

  “A little respect, please. This is ginseng, atalikuli, which means, ‘It climbs the mountain.’ ”

  “Or ‘It needs plastic surgery.’ That’s pretty obscene-looking.”

  “Medicine isn’t pretty. This is good for headaches, cramps, and ahem, female troubles, the book says.”

  She tossed it into a bucket, where she’d already collected a variety of roots, leaves, and bark.

  “It’s getting late,” Jeopard noted. He glanced at his wristwatch. “Let’s start back to the cave. I have to turn on the CB.”

  He listened every evening from 6:00 P.M. until ten after. If Drake had any news to report, he’d do it then. And if Jeopard needed to tell him anything, he knew that Drake would be beside his radio at that time.

  Jeopard held the end of her chain in one hand and took the bucket in the other. Tess looped the excess over her arm and headed off in front of him, too proud to trail behind or even walk beside him.

  She pointed. “I believe that’s a maidenhair fern growing in that log over there. Kagaskutagi,” she added primly. “It means, ‘Crow shin.’ ”

  “I didn’t know that crows had shins.”

  “It’s good for rheumatism and chills, I think.”

  “Do you want just the plant, your highness, or should I bring the whole log?”

  “The plant alone will do.”

  He tucked her chain into the waistband of his shorts, put the bucket down, and went to the log. Tess watched with grim amusement as he jerked at the fern without result, whacked the log with his fist, and announced, “I need a blowtorch and a crane.”

  He thumped the log again. Suddenly a half-dozen red wasps swarmed out of a crumbling hole in the log’s side and dive-bombed him. Jeopard didn’t make a sound, but he backed up rapidly, with his hands in the air.

  Tess ran to him and shooed at the wasps that had followed his retreat. He stood still, his hands still in the air, his face grim and pale. He was trembling.

  Tess stared at him in wonder. Had she finally found the one thing that unnerved the Iceman, as Drake sometimes called him?

  “You didn’t get stung, did you?” she asked in bewilderment, and peered at his bare torso. He’d gone shirtless all day. “Ouch, they got you in three places. This arm, your shoulder, and the back of your hand. Mmmm, I have some rabbit tobacco in the bucket. I’ll put it on the welts. You’ll be good as new.”

  “Rabbit tobacco,” he said ruefully, and lowered his hands. He took a deep breath, tossed the end of her chain onto the ground, and shook his head. “We have to get back to the cave.” r />
  Tess already had a wad of leaves in one hand. She stared at him anxiously. “What’s wrong? They’re just wasp stings.”

  “Whatever Cherokee curse you put on me, it worked. All your wishes have come true. You’re going to be free of me.”

  “Jeopard, what are you talking about?”

  He looked at her with quiet resignation. “I’m about to have a severe allergic reaction.”

  BY THE TIME they got to the cave his entire upper body was swelling and turning red. He had a chance of surviving only because he’d undergone a complete series of antivenom shots in the past and regularly took boosters to keep up his resistance.

  He explained that one sting wouldn’t have hurt him, but three were too much for his system to control. Still, the protective shots gave him a little hope.

  But only a little hope.

  Tess spoke as calmly as she could. “I’m still going to put rabbit tobacco on your welts. At least it’ll pull some of the venom out.”

  She was so frightened for him that she could barely keep her teeth from chattering. “Jep, stop gesturing … what do you want? Be still, I’ll get it after I put this tobacco on you.”

  Breathing harshly, he sank onto his mattress. “Come here. Close.”

  Tess grabbed the tobacco from her bucket, spit on it, and began mashing it between her fingers.

  “Come here,” he demanded, wheezing.

  She knelt beside him and almost cried at what was happening to his face and torso. His skin looked as if it had been badly burned by the sun.

  “What, Jep, for heaven’s sake?”

  “The key.” He patted the pocket of his shorts. “Get rid of …”He panted for breath. “Your chain.”

  “Not right this minute.”

  “Listen! Guns, here. Ammo, too. Beside mattress. If I die, wait for Drake to come for you. Pull my body out of the cave and stay put.”

  Horrified, she grabbed his shoulders. “I won’t let you die!”

  He managed to smile, although his face was now so badly swollen that it was a pathetic effort. “Know some Cherokee … magic to save … me?”

  Tess choked back a sob. “No, but I know how to broadcast an emergency call for help on the radio.”

  “No!”

  She ran to the CB. “My father loved these things. He taught me all about them.”

  “No! I don’t want anyone to know … where you are. Might not be safe. Wait till six. Talk to Drake.”

  “Shut up. Lie down.” She grabbed the microphone.

  “Get away from that. Dammit, I’ll shoot!”

  She looked up and found him pointing a gun at her. No, not at her, at the radio. He could barely sit up now. He leaned heavily on one elbow and had to prop the gun in both hands.

  “Jep”—she spoke softly and firmly—”I am going to call for help.”

  The radio made a popping sound and leaped sideways as a bullet crashed into it. Tess fell back, holding the disengaged microphone in her hand.

  “No,” he answered weakly, “you’re not.”

  He slumped onto the mattress and dropped the gun beside it. Then he shut his eyes and groaned.

  Crying with frustration and despair, Tess ran to him and knelt down. “I’ll never forgive you for that.”

  “Save you. Do that … good thing. Love … you.”

  “Oh, Jep.” She balled her hands into fists and stared down at him in desperate anguish.

  The histamines released by the stings were making his blood pressure soar. He had trouble breathing, and he put a horribly swollen hand on the center of his chest.

  “Bad,” he whispered. “Pain.”

  Tess jerked the padlock key from his shorts pocket and quickly unfastened the chain. It dropped to the floor, and she kicked both it and the gun aside without a second glance.

  She had to do something fast or he was going to die. He was going to die for her sake.

  “No!” she said in a guttural tone. Tess ran to the bucket of medicinal plants and searched through it. She’d collected a bark that was supposed to act as a mild stimulant; from what she knew of insect allergies, the medical treatment sometimes included a shot of adrenaline for that purpose.

  Tess bit her lip until it bled. She might overdose Jeopard or fail to help him at all, but it was her only hope.

  Tess grabbed a double handful of bark and threw it into a cooking pot, then opened a jug and added drinking water to it. She fired up the camp stove and turned both its burners as high as they’d go. While the brew was heating, she hurried back to Jeopard.

  He was panting, and his eyes had swollen shut. Tess grasped his face between her hands and kissed him. “I love you, Sundance. Don’t you dare die,” she cried. “I’ll wear your chain the rest of my life! I’ll do anything! Just hang on!”

  He raised his hand weakly, and she sobbed out loud at the state of it. Tess kissed the angry welt mark, then retrieved the rabbit tobacco from where she’d dropped it on her way to the radio. She plastered his hand with the soggy, crushed leaves, then put the same poultice on his forearm and shoulder.

  “Yuck,” he managed to say.

  “Yuck. Good.” She glanced down his body and gasped when she saw that his feet and legs were swelling too. Tess frantically undressed him, and when he lay naked she poured cold water over him.

  “Virtue,” he murmured, his voice so breathless that she could barely understand him.

  “I don’t know what else to do. It might be the wrong thing.”

  Tess went to the stove. The simmering bark had turned the water a dark brown color. She wasn’t sure if it was ready, but she couldn’t wait any longer—he might lose consciousness, and then she’d never get the liquid down him.

  Her hands shaking, Tess poured some of the hot tea into a cup and carried it to him. She sat down and struggled until she had his head and shoulders propped on her leg.

  “Drink this, Jep,” she urged, holding the cup to his mouth.

  He could barely open his lips, and his tongue was badly swollen too. After a few seconds of futile struggling, Tess groaned with defeat. She knelt beside him and took a mouthful of bitter bark tea from the cup.

  Holding his jaw with one hand and tilting his head back with the other, she put her mouth in his and dribbled the tea down his throat.

  He coughed and tried to turn his head away, but he swallowed. “Good! That’s it, Sundance! Anything that tastes this bad has got to work!”

  She forced the entire cup of tea down him, one mouthful at a time, then got another cupful and did the same with it.

  Tess sat back on her heels and stroked his chest, watching him anxiously. He seemed to be breathing a little more easily. “Better?” she asked.

  He nodded weakly. “A little.”

  She catapulted to her feet. “More tea!”

  Cup by cup, he recovered. Tess began to wait for long periods between each new dose, afraid that she’d give him too much. When he could breathe decently and the worst of the swelling was gone, she decided to stop.

  Exhausted from fear, she slumped beside him and wiped his perspiring body with a wet cloth. When he didn’t move or make a sound, she poked him in the ribs.

  “Ouch,” he said finally, his eyes shut. “Sleepy.”

  “Sorry. I have an inclination to worry.”

  “Love you.”

  Tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped his swollen, ugly face and whispered, “I love you too.”

  “Must look like a toad.”

  “Yes, you do. I love you anyway. In fact, I think I love you more right now than when you look incredibly handsome.”

  “Strange woman.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, smiling.

  “Missed your chance to escape.”

  “How could I leave a man who shoots CB radios? Such an ornery creature. I had to stay and see what ridiculous thing you’d do next.”

  “Not ridiculous.”

  “Not the sort of thing a coldhearted con artist would do, I suppose.” Tess lovingl
y brushed her fingertips over his forehead.

  “Think like the enemy too long, you become like him. Can’t help it, unless you turn everything off. Machine … doesn’t feel. No hurt. But no love, either.”

  “What enemy, Jep? Tell me.”

  He sighed deeply. “Worked for a government contractor. Agent.”

  “CIA?”

  “No. Free lance. Group of us. Only top people knew about us. Very covert.”

  “What kind of work was it?”

  “Went after specific people. Terrorists. Spies.”

  “So you worked outside the law?”

  “Yes.”

  “And sometimes you did things—”

  “Things that had to be done. No regrets. World’s a better place for it. But it gets to you after a while. World seems so ugly. That’s why Kyle and I retired.”

  “Drake too?”

  “Yes.”

  She rested her head on his good shoulder. “My poor Sundance. I understand so much now.”

  “Tess? Whatever you tell me … about the diamond … you can trust me with the truth.”

  “I know that,” she whispered. “I know it better than ever.”

  “I won’t ask anymore.”

  She kissed his dear, puffy face. “Listen to me. There’s no way I can prove what I’ve already told you, but it’s the truth. I knew Royce was a jewel thief, but he’d given it up by the time we became involved. He was a lovely man who cared about people, acted honorably toward his friends, and I don’t regret marrying him.

  “He wouldn’t let me take his name—he wanted to protect me from his past. He never did anything that would harm me, and he certainly didn’t give men the blue diamond. My grandparents did, and I have no idea how they really came into possession of it.

  “I don’t know why anyone would want to take revenge on me. My business is totally legitimate. I’ve never stolen anything from anyone.”

  She was silent, watching Jeopard’s face. He opened bloodshot eyes and looked at her gently for a long moment. ‘Okay,” he whispered. “We start fresh. Go to water. Feel virtuous. Take care of each other.”

  “Yes.” Nodding, crying a little, she smoothed his hair, then lay down beside him. “Now try to sleep.”

  “What … what are you doing?”