door panel. “Move it, Miss Virginia!” he called. “The bog is awaiting you!”
Raising a brow and tilting her nose, Whitney slowed her speed to saunter toward the jeep. Eagle’s jaw was locked when she reached him, but he said nothing. Pulling her bag from her, he tossed it over the side of the jeep. Then he set the large span of his hands around her waist and hoisted her body over with the same ease before vaulting in himself. His arm stretched behind her as he said, “Better drive on, Randy, before she realizes she’s forgotten her Chanel No 5.”
Whitney was shivering even as she glared at him indignantly. She could still feel the imprint of his hands upon her ribs, as if his touch had been indelibly etched into her with searing heat. She could sense his arm, so casually lying behind her back, with every nerve of her flesh.
“Eagle!” Katie turned reproachful eyes to her brother, folding an arm over the rear of her seat so that she might converse with them. “Be nice! You like Chanel N° 5!” Eagle had no response.
As the jeep pulled along the same road Whitney had stumbled upon the night before, Katie and Randy explained the terrain they would be covering. As well as the seemingly endless marshland of tall sawgrass, the Glades were also composed of high pine lands known as hammocks. The two highways that stretched across the swampland of the southern tip of the state, the Trail and Alligator Alley, had made many areas easily accessible, but there were still countless miles of land that could only be navigated by airboat or canoe. “Many independent Miccosukees live right along the Trail,” Katie said, “but the Eagle clan lives deep in the woods.”
Whitney leaned forward eagerly in her seat. Katie was a wonderful source of information, and their journey might end at any time. “Tell me something about your family,” she begged, mindless of Eagle’s stoic expression beside her. “Are your parents living?”
“My father is—” Katie began.
“Katie!” Eagle barked. “I’m sure Miss Latham isn’t interested in our dubious bloodlines.”
“I’m just going to tell her how they met!” Katie retorted, smiling at Whitney. “My mother and grandmother had marvelously romantic marriages! My mother’s father was a businessman who came to the Glades to hunt. He became entranced by the honesty and high moral code of the Miccosukees, and finally the Eagle family grew to respect and trust him in return. Morning Dew fell head over heels in love with him and—at a time when marriage outside the tribe was unheard of—she defied her father and uncles to be with him. But my grandfather loved her very deeply, too. Instead of demanding that she desert her home, he embraced the life of the Miccosukees and gave up his own society.”
“That is romantic!” Whitney chuckled. “What about your mother and father?”
Eagle muttered some sort of expletive beside her, but Whitney ignored him. Katie glanced at him with a wounded, I-know-what-I’m-doing expression and continued.
“My father was a charter pilot. He was en route to the Keys from Tampa when his plane went down in the Everglades. He was lost, delirious and barely conscious when my mother found him. She was a beautiful woman, and Dad says he fell in love as soon as he opened his eyes to find her tenderly nursing his wounds. They were married both by tribal law and in my father’s church.”
Whitney had a dozen more questions to ask, but White Eagle had had enough. Sitting up in the seat, he put his arm around Whitney’s shoulders and forced her attention to the road. “We’re making a left here to get down to the Trail,” he said. “Straight ahead, you would come to North Naples.” Obviously intending that she not have a chance to open her mouth again, he rapidly began pointing out the abundance of birds and foliage surrounding the road, naming things so quickly she was sure she wouldn’t remember a word. Then the jeep turned again, and
Raising a brow and tilting her nose, Whitney slowed her speed to saunter toward the jeep. Eagle’s jaw was locked when she reached him, but he said nothing. Pulling her bag from her, he tossed it over the side of the jeep. Then he set the large span of his hands around her waist and hoisted her body over with the same ease before vaulting in himself. His arm stretched behind her as he said, “Better drive on, Randy, before she realizes she’s forgotten her Chanel No 5.”
Whitney was shivering even as she glared at him indignantly. She could still feel the imprint of his hands upon her ribs, as if his touch had been indelibly etched into her with searing heat. She could sense his arm, so casually lying behind her back, with every nerve of her flesh.
“Eagle!” Katie turned reproachful eyes to her brother, folding an arm over the rear of her seat so that she might converse with them. “Be nice! You like Chanel N° 5!” Eagle had no response.
As the jeep pulled along the same road Whitney had stumbled upon the night before, Katie and Randy explained the terrain they would be covering. As well as the seemingly endless marshland of tall sawgrass, the Glades were also composed of high pine lands known as hammocks. The two highways that stretched across the swampland of the southern tip of the state, the Trail and Alligator Alley, had made many areas easily accessible, but there were still countless miles of land that could only be navigated by airboat or canoe. “Many independent Miccosukees live right along the Trail,” Katie said, “but the Eagle clan lives deep in the woods.”
Whitney leaned forward eagerly in her seat. Katie was a wonderful source of information, and their journey might end at any time. “Tell me something about your family,” she begged, mindless of Eagle’s stoic expression beside her. “Are your parents living?”
“My father is—” Katie began.
“Katie!” Eagle barked. “I’m sure Miss Latham isn’t interested in our dubious bloodlines.”
“I’m just going to tell her how they met!” Katie retorted, smiling at Whitney. “My mother and grandmother had marvelously romantic marriages! My mother’s father was a businessman who came to the Glades to hunt. He became entranced by the honesty and high moral code of the Miccosukees, and finally the Eagle family grew to respect and trust him in return. Morning Dew fell head over heels in love with him and—at a time when marriage outside the tribe was unheard of—she defied her father and uncles to be with him. But my grandfather loved her very deeply, too. Instead of demanding that she desert her home, he embraced the life of the Miccosukees and gave up his own society.”
“That is romantic!” Whitney chuckled. “What about your mother and father?”
Eagle muttered some sort of expletive beside her, but Whitney ignored him. Katie glanced at him with a wounded, I-know-what-I’m-doing expression and continued.
“My father was a charter pilot. He was en route to the Keys from Tampa when his plane went down in the Everglades. He was lost, delirious and barely conscious when my mother found him. She was a beautiful woman, and Dad says he fell in love as soon as he opened his eyes to find her tenderly nursing his wounds. They were married both by tribal law and in my father’s church.”
Whitney had a dozen more questions to ask, but White Eagle had had enough. Sitting up in the seat, he put his arm around Whitney’s shoulders and forced her attention to the road. “We’re making a left here to get down to the Trail,” he said. “Straight ahead, you would come to North Naples.” Obviously intending that she not have a chance to open her mouth again, he rapidly began pointing out the abundance of birds and foliage surrounding the road, naming things so quickly she was sure she wouldn’t remember a word. Then the jeep turned again, and
Similar Books
