Free Native Affairs by Doreen Owens Malek Page B

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