Just a Kiss Away (44 page)

There he found two peanut shells and smiled. This wouldn’t be so difficult after all. The two of them were leaving a trail that could be found by a blind man—or a one-eyed soldier.

“Shh!” Lollie said to Medusa
as she listened to the sounds of the jungle. She could have sworn she’d heard someone. She peered out from behind a plump, vine-tied tree trunk just as a small molelike animal moved past. It had beady little eyes that reminded her of that awful Colonel Luna.

She looked up at the thick forest surrounding her and again felt uneasy. She listened a little longer to all the sounds, the dark sounds—hums and whistles and screeches. Some of the birds in the crowns of the trees sounded just like humans, dying humans. The deeper she traveled, the scarier the noises became, and the darker the forest. She glanced upward. The clouds had completely swallowed any patches of blue sky, and she thought she heard the rumble of thunder in the distance.

“Awk! I wish I was in Dixie. Hurrah! Hurrah!”

“So do I Medusa, so do I.” She looked around the dark, thick rain forest with it tall ominous trees, vines that looked like snakes hanging all around her, and the noise, the horrible noise. “You know what? It was really stupid to take off all alone.”

“Awk! Stupid bitch!” Medusa’s voice had lowered into a perfect imitation of Sam’s muttering.

“Did Sam call me that again?”

“Awk! Damn Yankee!”

She smiled. The bird had that right. “It would serve him right if I went back and gave him enough trouble to make him never forget what he did. In fact . . .” She turned and looked at Medusa. “You know what? We should have never left. He’s the one who’s acted like . . . well, like Sam. Right, Medusa?”

“Awk! I’m Medusa. I’m a mynah! Sam’s an ass!”

“I won’t argue that point,” Lollie mumbled, her head churning with the bud of a new idea, a much better one and a much safer one. “Since he’s the problem, why should we leave the cave? This was a dumb idea.” She paused and shook a warning finger at the bird. “But don’t you tell him I said that. I’d die before I’d admit to Sam that I’d lived up to his expectations.”

She handed Medusa another peanut, a bribe. “We’re going back. He might not love me, but he’s not gonna forget me. I’ll make sure of that.” She turned and marched back the way she’d come.

Ten minutes later, as she made her way through the edge of the basin forest, it began to rain again. She looked up at the mountain and could see the dark entrance to the cave. If she cut across to the right, she could get there without having to climb that steep hillside. From the bottom she could see that the other side was less treacherous.

“Come on, Medusa, we’re going back a quicker way.” She turned off her old trail just as the first drops of rain splattered to the basin floor.

The rain came down
in sheets, sending any evidence of Lollie’s trail running down the hillside. Sam pushed off from the tree where he’d stopped to try to determine her direction. She’d been traveling southeast, so he had continued that way even after the rain washed her tracks away.

He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Lollie! Lollie!” He waited, but the only reply was the thrumming of the rain and a distant rumble of thunder. He whistled the shrill signal Jim used to call the bird. Nothing.

This was all his fault. He’d been pretty hard on her, and he’d meant to be, but he’d had no idea she would do something like this. Although now that he thought about it, he realized he should have figured as much. It was just the kind of stupid thing she’d do, especially after the stupid thing he’d done.

If she was hurt, or worse, he’d never forgive himself. He sagged against a tree, respite from the torrents of water raining down from the sky. He cupped his hands again and called her name.

No answer.

He moved on, the mud so deep now that it came almost to his knees. Rivers of water flowed around the trees, dragging vines and plants and ground debris with them, but worse yet, he’d seen a vampire snake slithering against the tow of the water. Rains like this could wash every deadly reptile and insect right into her, and she’d never know what hit her.

“Lollie! Lollie!” he called, stumbling in the mud and dragging himself up again.

Lightning cracked across the almost black sky, and it rained so hard he could barely see three feet in front of him. His foot hit some loose mud, and the hillside gave way. He slid down, his body flowing on a stream of mud and water. He grabbed a tree and pulled himself out of the flow, then up, where he watched the water run around him.

The most incredible feeling of despair welled inside him. He had to find her.

A hour later he pulled himself up and out of the water again. The basin floor was a lake, the surrounding hillsides little more than rivers, carrying monsoon rains into the valley below. But worse yet, it was dark. He looked back over his shoulder, knowing he couldn’t see her, couldn’t find her in this rain. He crawled up the hill, making his way back to the cave. Maybe he could light a fire and signal her somehow. Maybe she’d see it and come back.

He felt so damned helpless. Never in his entire life had he felt so powerless, completely unable to do anything but wait. He wanted to punch something. He wanted some sense of control. He had none.

He moved to the trees alongside the cave. The ground gave way, and he slid back down the hillside. He lay in the muddy mire and looked up. The hillside was even steeper than before, almost straight up, and the rain still came down so hard that he could see only halfway up the hill. He swiped his hair from his face and grabbed a long exposed root. He pulled himself up, hand over hand, slipping only when one of the tree roots broke. He climbed onto the bed of roots near the base of the tree. The woody roots weren’t as slick as the mud, and he could get his footing. He slid both arms around the tree and pulled his body up and over until he was safely on the sheltered side of the trunk. He stood there, catching his breath before he moved on to the next tangle of roots and slowly worked his way up the hillside.

He reached the tree nearest the cave and crawled toward the entrance. The rain slackened a bit, and he could see the glow from the fire within. Lightning cracked, thunder boomed, and a huge muddy section of the hillside slid over him. He held on and finally dragged himself up to the cave. He lay there with his muddy head on his aching arms, panting from the struggle to pull against the weight of the mud.

“No, no. Listen closely. It’s ‘Look away, look away, look away,
Dixieland.’ “

Sam’s head shot up at the sound of Lollie’s voice. She sat in the warm, dry, mudless circle of the fire teaching that goddamn song to a group of Igorot natives. She munched on something. He wiped the mud from his nose. It smelled like meat—cooked meat. Something they hadn’t had since they’d left the camp.

She tossed a bone over her shoulder and reached out. One of the men gave her a beaming smile of worship, then cut off a slice from the huge hunk of cooked meat that was spitted over the fire. She sat there like a queen before her subjects, eating the meat and chatting away with those men who couldn’t understand a word she said.

All this time his mind had been filled with the horrors of what could have happened to her. He’d been scared she was hurt or worse. But she’d been back here all the time. Safe, dry, warm, and having a great old time eating and singing.

He crawled onto his knees, mud dripping from his head and his patch string, leaves stuck to his cheeks. He couldn’t speak. His hands began to itch with the sudden need to squeeze something—her throat would be nice for starters.

She must have sensed his presence, because she turned and glanced at him.

“Oh, hi, Sam.” She turned her attention back to the native men while distractedly handing the bird a piece of banana.

Red. He saw nothing but red. His shout of pure rage echoed through the cave, and he heard it, but it was as if it wasn’t him. He dove at her, his hands reaching for her.

In an instant he was flat on the ground, natives all over him like fruit flies on papaya.

“Let me at her! Let me at her!” He struggled to break their hold, madder than hell. “You stupid bitch! I’ve been searching this whole goddamn valley for you! For two hours! For two frigging hours!” He pulled, trying to break free of the natives’ hold.

Her face had been startled at first, then a little frightened, and now it looked angry. The damn woman looked bloody angry.

“I told you not to call me that.” She glared at him.

He glared back. “I’ll call you any damn thing I want, especially when the phrase fits!” He struggled again, then shouted at the men who held him, “Let me go, dammit!”

They turned toward Lollie, looking for her to tell them what to do. He couldn’t believe it.

“Let me go!” he spouted off in Tagalog.

They ignored him and turned to her again, chanting, calling her a golden princess.

He gave her a look that could almost singe off the rest of that blond hair. “Tell them to let me go.”

She glanced at her fingernail and made a fuss about cleaning it. He wasn’t fooled one bit.

“Lollie,” he said, gritting his teeth.

She glanced up at him. “Why should I?”

“Because if you don’t, when I get loose—which I can promise you I will—you’ll wish you had.”

“I think not.”

“Tell them, now!”

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head.

The natives looked from him to her. He glared at them and they muttered something. The only word he made out was “madman.” That was the problem. His anger showed. He needed to reason with her. Well, he thought, “persuade” was a better term, since reasoning with her would be like trying to fight a war with a squirt gun. “Tell them to let me go and I won’t do anything.”

“I think you’re still mad.”

“Okay, you’re right. I am still mad.”

“Then telling them to let you go wouldn’t be very smart, would it?”

He was silent.

“Now, as I see it, when someone’s action isn’t very smart, some people call them stupid, don’t they, Sam?”

“Dammit, Lollie!”

“If I tell them to let you go, then I’d be acting stupid, wouldn’t I?”

“I’m warning you. I will get loose.”

She gave a little wave of her hand. “Fine. I’m willing to take that chance. I wouldn’t want to do anything
stupid.”
She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes.

He chose not to speak. Nothing short of thrashing her would do at that moment. While they bound his hands and feet, he sat there, relishing the mental image of just what he’d do to her when he got free. They moved him to a dark corner, four of the men forming a guard wall between Lollie and him.

She picked up something and then sauntered toward him. One of the men touched her arm, pointed at Sam, and shook his head as if to warn her away. “I’ll be fine,” she said, and strolled over to stand next to Sam, watching and gloating. “Hungry?” she asked with a smirk.

When he didn’t answer, she plopped down next to him and held up a hunk of meat. “It’s some kind of bird. Turkey, I think. One of the natives kept gobbling when he handed it to me. Want some?”

“Untie me.”

“I think you’re still mad.”

“I’m more hungry than I am angry. Untie me. I won’t do anything,” he lied.

She rested her chin on her other hand and looked thoughtful. “Hmm. I don’t think so. I’ll feed you.” She smiled and held the meat in front of his mouth.

This was war. He never looked away from her smug face. He just bit into the meat, hard, tearing it from the bone and slowly chewing. He’d fight this battle in his own way. He took another bite of the meat.

“Good, huh?”

He chewed and swallowed.

She smiled, having no idea what was coming. He’d wipe that smile right off her smug little southern face.

“More,” he whispered, then opened his mouth and waited.

Her eyes grew wide. Then she flushed, looking at him uneasily. She’d remembered. She held the meat up again. He tore off more, still never breaking his gaze. He chewed as slowly as he could, then swallowed. He let his gaze drift downward and rest on her breasts.

“More.”

She held the meat again. He bit again, but his stare was purposely hot and directed right at her chest. She squirmed. He hid his smile. “More.”

She fed him and he let his gaze drift back to hers. Her face was still flushed, getting more so each time he said it, and her mouth was open just enough to tell him he’d made his point. He leaned his head back against the rock and raked her body with the hottest look he could give. “Yeah, it’s real good. The best thing I’ve had in my mouth since last night.”

She gasped and scooted back, and he thought for a moment she might hit him with the turkey leg.

One for you, Sammy old boy.
He didn’t gloat, externally anyway.

Then she leaned forward, holding out the meat for him to take another bite. She had to lean farther than before, and he had a perfect view down the front of her shirt. Automatically he opened his mouth, his concentration having just moved to the scenery.

“Sam . .” Her voice was soft, but he really wasn’t listening. He opened his mouth to bite off the meat.

“Stick this in your mouth.” She let go of the turkey leg, leaving it stuck in his mouth. She stood, and without another glance she walked away.

Sam coughed and pushed the meat out of his mouth with his tongue, swearing the whole time. Then he scowled at her retreating back. Her head was high, her shoulders back, and she walked with all the swagger of a winning general. Lollie LaRue could fight after all.