Native Affairs (9 page)

“My grandson is attractive,” he observed quietly, glancing from the girl before him to the driveway and then back again.

Though somewhat startled, Cindy answered frankly. “Yes.”

“He is very appealing to you, very sexual,” the old man continued, watching her reaction.

Cindy could feel the flush climbing into her skin, but she answered again, “Yes.”

Eli nodded. “It was the same with my son and Andrew’s mother. The heat between them was obvious, you could see it, almost touch it.”

Her face flaming, unable to believe that she was having this conversation with Drew’s grandfather, Cindy said quietly, “Mr. Fox, if you are making comparisons between Drew’s mother and me, saying that I am like her...”

Eli shook his head once, decisively. “You are not like her, and my name is Eli.”

Cindy smiled, relaxing. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“What, that my name is Eli?” he asked, twinkling, and she laughed.

“You have a nice laugh,” he observed. “No, you are nothing like her. She was earthy, aggressive, outgoing—she chased my son. Now I would say that in your case Andrew is doing the chasing.”

“But I’m not running away,” Cindy said, meeting his wise black eyes.

Eli sighed. “You must understand my concern. When I see another of the Fox men bringing home another beautiful shankree girl, I worry.”

“I’m not beautiful,” Cindy began.

“Of course you are.” He made a dismissive gesture, as if the subject merited no further discussion. “And Andrew likes you. He likes you very much.”

“How can you tell?” Cindy asked, her curiosity overruling her manners.

“You’re here,” Eli answered. “You’re the first friend he has ever brought to meet me.”

Cindy was silent, absorbing that.

“You seem confused,” Eli said. “Don’t you know what it is that he likes? ”

Cindy raised her eyes to his, waiting.

“You have a sweetness, an innocence that even I can see. You’re different to him, the lady in the tower in one of those Anglo-Saxon fairy tales.”

Rapunzel, Cindy thought. Eli was right.

“But that’s not me,” Cindy protested. “I don’t want him to like some ideal, some illusion that doesn’t exist.”

Eli folded his arms on his chest and examined her closely. “Don’t you like to read and to study, as Andrew told me? Don’t you like to be alone with your thoughts? Don’t you prefer the world of ideas to harsh realities?”

“I guess so,” Cindy admitted, not liking to hear herself described in exactly that way.

“Then Andrew is not wrong, is he?” Eli asked.

“I guess not,” Cindy replied, and they both laughed.

Fox appeared at the door in time to hear the burst of laughter. “Well, it looks like you two are getting along famously,” he commented, shrugging into his shirt. “How’s it going, princess? Did you get what you need?”

“More than enough,” Cindy replied. “Your grandfather was very helpful.”

He nodded. “Well, I’ll just wash up inside and then we’ll be on our way.” He glanced at his grandfather. “Everything’s done. Walter is going to finish up the edging when the sun goes down and it’s cooler.”

“Thank you, Andrew,” the old man said, with ineffable dignity. “But can’t you stay for lunch? Walter and I can get something together.”

“No thanks, Eli. Cindy and I have plans.” He winked at Cindy as he walked past her into the house. “Be right back,” he added, and vanished.

Cindy’s eyes followed him, wondering what the plans were.

“When he leaves the room the light goes with him, doesn’t it?” the old man said, studying her expression.

Cindy nodded, unable to say it any better.

“Come back,” Eli invited her. “Come back whenever you like—if you need more information for your paper, or if you just want to visit.”

“Thank you,” Cindy said. “I’d like to make the trip again, with Drew.”

“Oh, who needs him?” Eli said, sniffing. “I hope I don’t need my good looking grandson to attract the attention of a pretty girl.” He leaned in closer to her and whispered conspiratorially, “Come without him and I’ll show you all his embarrassing baby pictures.”

Cindy grinned.

“You like that idea, do you?” Eli said, grinning back. Fox returned to find them smiling at each other.

“I think I’d better get this young lady out of here before you marry her, Eli,” he announced dryly and reached for Cindy’s hand. She allowed him to pull her to her feet and felt her pulse quicken as he slipped his arm casually around her waist.

“I’ll be back on Tuesday,” Fox said to his grandfather. “Try not to let the grass grow between now and then.”

“I’ll do my best,” Eli said, raising his hand in farewell. “And remember what I said,” he called to Cindy as she smiled goodbye.

“I’ll remember,” she answered.

“What did he say?” Fox asked, as they waved to Walter, who was riding the mower back into the storage shed.

“That’s between your grandfather and me,” Cindy answered airily.

“Secrets already,” Fox sighed, opening the door of the cab for her.

“By the way, what are our ‘plans’ for lunch?” Cindy asked.

“Our plans are not to subject ourselves to Walter’s horrendous cooking,” Fox replied, leaning on the open door and looking in at her. “He specializes in rubber omelets and incinerated hamburgers.”

“I see,” Cindy said, laughing. “But there’s one problem. I’m starving.”

Fox spread his hands. “Hey, you’re looking at a man who’s always prepared.” He pointed to the flatbed in back, where she saw a styrofoam hamper through the window. “There’s our lunch. Sandwiches, salad, dessert, the works.”

“You didn’t make all that?” Cindy asked.

“Hell, no. I ordered it from the deli in town and picked it up before I came for you.”

“But what about poor Walter and Eli, passing out from hunger back there at the house?” Cindy reproached him, drawing down the corners of her mouth.

Fox favored her with a superior smile. “I got one for them, too, and left it in the kitchen with a note.”

Cindy shook her head in feigned amazement. “I give up; you think of everything. But I’d guess that your relatives are going to find it mighty suspicious that we didn’t stay to share the picnic with them.”

“Who cares what they think?” he answered, slamming the door. “By now they’re too deep into the coleslaw to wonder about anything.” He went around the back of the truck and got in next to her. “Besides, I want to show you something.”

Cindy settled back against the seat as he drove away, content to go where he would lead her.

Chapter 5

Fox guided the truck further down the dirt road that had brought them to Eli’s house. The lake spread away from them to the right, and Cindy caught glimpses of its blue sparkle through the passing rush of the trees. After another mile Fox pulled off the road into a clearing and stopped the truck.

“What’s this?” she asked, as he helped her to the ground and then took the styrofoam hamper from the back. He grabbed up a checkered tablecloth that had been folded under it and handed it to Cindy.

“This is my uncle’s place,” he answered. “It’s just a short walk through the cypresses. Stay to the path and follow behind me.”

‘‘Are there snakes?” Cindy asked nervously, picking her way gingerly after him and clutching the tablecloth to her chest.

“Water moccasins, I think,” he replied casually. “Rattlers too, maybe a few boa constrictors.”

Cindy stopped walking until she thought about the last thing he’d said. “Wait a minute,” she said suspiciously. “I’m not sure about the first two, but even I know there are no boa constrictors in Florida.”

He turned and faced her, his eyebrows raised. “See? All those years in college have not been in vain.”

“You’re not funny, Fox,” she said, and stepped on something which moved. She yelped and jumped backward, dropping both the cloth and her purse.

Wearing an expression of extreme forbearance, Fox set the hamper down and picked her up in the same smooth motion. “That does it, I’m carrying you,” he said, and proceeded to do so, threading through the trees expertly.

“What about our stuff?” Cindy asked contentedly, not really caring, her arms around his neck and her head on his shoulder. He smelled of his hours in the sun, as if his skin had been baked to its perfect golden color.

“I’ll go back for it, once I’m sure you won’t be taking on the wildlife and losing,” he answered, turning to sidestep the stump of a gnarled oak. He took the opportunity to spin her in dizzying circles until, laughing, she begged him to stop.

“Had enough?” he asked, lowering her weight suddenly, pretending he was about to drop her. “Say uncle.”

“Uncle, uncle,” she gasped, clutching his shirt, breathless.

“I don’t know,” he said, debating. “You don’t sound very sincere.” He shifted her suddenly, tossing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “That’s much better,” he announced, as she kicked in protest. “Puts more distance between you and the piranhas.”

“Piranhas are
fish
,” she squealed, laughing so hard she could hardly get the words out. “Don’t you think I know anything? Now put me down and let me walk.”

He ignored her, proceeding on course until they broke through the screen of trees and reached the shore.

“What do you think?” he asked, setting her down gently, keeping his arms around her so that she was standing with her back to him, his hands folded across her waist.

“Oh, Drew, it’s lovely,” she breathed, taking in the placid, sun spattered surface of the water, the dense circle of encroaching cypresses all along the shore, the cloudless vault of the sky. “Where are we?”

“This is my uncle’s place,” he answered, his voice in her ear. “I built the chiksee just around that bend to the left. He always meant to build a house here but he never did it.”

“Why not?”

“He’s in jail,” Fox answered calmly. “For twenty years.”

Cindy turned within the circle of his embrace to look at him. “Why? What did he do?”

“He killed the man who had raped his wife,” Fox replied, watching her reaction to his statement.

“Oh, Drew, how awful,” she whispered, trying to comprehend the enormity of it.

“If you were my wife, I’d do the same to anybody who touched you,” he said flatly, in a tone that left no doubt that he meant it. Cindy felt a chill which had nothing to do with the weather.

“Don’t you think you’d better go back for the basket?” she asked, wanting to change the subject. “Stay right here,” he directed. “Don’t wander off.” She nodded. She barely heard his footsteps through the trees; he was very quiet in his movements for a big man. When he returned she was rooted to the same spot, waiting.

“Here’s the grub,” he said, spreading the cloth on the ground and setting out the wrapped packages and plastic containers. When it was all displayed they both looked at it.

“I guess I’ve lost my appetite,” Cindy said, and turned away.

He was beside her in a second. “Did I scare you, princess?” he asked, taking hold of her shoulders and forcing her to look at him.

“A little,” she admitted. “I don’t like to hear you talk that way.”

He enfolded her slowly, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, since I met you, I can understand how my uncle must have felt. When I think of somebody putting his hands on you, treating you roughly, forcing you…” The sentence trailed off as his hands tightened on her arms.

“Shhh,” Cindy said, silencing him. “We shouldn’t have come here; I didn’t know about your uncle. It must be terrible for you to be reminded of all that.”

“Not as terrible as it is for him to live it. I visit him with Walter. You should see my uncle now. He used to be so strong, so capable. Now he’s a beaten man.”

“What became of his wife?” Cindy asked.

“She died a few years after he went to jail,” Fox replied. “I was about twenty-five, I guess. Some disease, they said it was, but I think the whole tragedy just slowly killed her.” He held her off and looked at her. “Come on, princess, eat something. You don’t want to leave this feast for the squirrels.”

They sat together on the ground, and once Cindy tasted some of the food her appetite returned. Everything was very good, and Fox produced tumblers of ice cold water from a well on the property that still worked. When they had packed away the leftovers he reclined on the tablecloth, using it as a blanket, and gestured for her to join him. When Cindy sat at his side, he pulled her down with him, molding her to his body. She relaxed against his shoulder, resting her cheek on his chest.

“So what do you think of my kingdom?” Fox asked, gesturing with his free hand.

“Is that what this is?” Cindy asked, looking around at the blue expanse of lake and sky.

“Certainly. And you’re the captive princess from a foreign northern land who has been whisked away to dwell with me in the underworld.”

Cindy smiled, closing her eyes and inhaling the clean fragrance of his skin, his soap. “I think you’ve got a few stories all mixed up there, Mr. Fox.”