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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 find 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 s
preading 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.
