Southern Comfort (21 page)

• • •

She was dreaming. And it was a wonderful dream. She was floating along without a care in the world snuggled up against the man that she loved on a hot southern night. It was a dream she did not want to wake up from.

“Natalie.” The voice was soft and caring, but she didn’t want to wake up. Not yet. Not while the dream was still so sweet.

She shifted to get more comfortable, her head sliding down his hard chest to rest in his lap. But that was all part of the dream. It wasn’t like she really had her head in his lap. She was just sleeping. It was her pillow. The night was warm, and she was comfortable. And so very sleepy.

A firm hand gripped her shoulder. “Natalie?” He shook her lightly. “You need to get up. It’s morning.”

Morning. She didn’t want to get up. Morning meant responsibility. Running everything, keeping everything in check, making sure her Aunt Bitty didn’t have strange people staying at her house, making sure Aubie got to school, making sure her parents had enough money to put fuel in the yacht. She was so very tired of those responsibilities. She just wanted to stay here snuggled up in this pretend lap and dream just a little while longer.

“Okay,” she mumbled, hoping the voice and that firm hand would go away. Despite their caring nature, they wanted to pull her into responsibility, and she needed a little time to herself. She rubbed her cheek against the fabric of her pillow. Strange, it felt more like denim than Egyptian cotton. She needed to make a note to buy Aunt Bitty some new sheets. These were terrible.

A groan sounded from above her. She sighed as she snuggled down again. “You have to stop that. And you have to get up. Now.”

What was he so grumpy about? Why did he care if she got up? She braced her hands on either side of her head. Just then, it dawned on her that the pillowcase didn’t just
feel
like denim. It
was
denim and her hands weren’t on the pillow or even a mattress, but one was on a hard thigh and the other was on a hard abdomen. And her face had been …

She pushed herself up quickly, her cheeks filling with heat. “I’m up.” She smoothed her hands down the jeans she’d borrowed from Aubie, trying to bring some semblance of order to her appearance, her morning.

Morning? It took a couple of seconds, but the night came back to her. Coming out here to see if she could discover who was sneaking into her aunt’s cellar, running into Newland, then falling asleep on his shoulder. And this morning …

She turned back to him.

He stood, slowly stretching out his legs and adjusting his crotch.

Oh my goodness! She’d had her face pressed against him. For how long she had no idea.

“I–I’m sorry.” Her gaze flickered from his fly to his eyes. They twinkled with a mirth she didn’t understand. “I don’t see what’s so funny about this.”

“Who said it was funny?” he asked in return.

“You … ” She shook her head. “I … ” She started again. “Never mind.” It was best to let the matter drop. There was no coming back from this one with her dignity intact. And the more she talked about it the worse it seemed to get.

“Did we sleep out here all night?”

“You did. I stayed awake.”

“How long did they stay in there?”
That a girl, Natalie. Keep him talking about something else so he forgets that you were —

“They never came out.”

Natalie’s jaw dropped. “They’re still in there?” She looked around. The day was dawning. The sun coming up in the east painted red and indigo streaks across the horizon. It had to be almost seven o’clock. How had they stayed in there so long? And what were they doing? “What are we going to do?”

Newland shook his head. “Go get the police?”

Natalie scoffed. “The sheriff’s not going to do anything. They’re moonshine buddies, remember?”

“Right.”

She couldn’t let them get away with this. They were storing moonshine in her aunt’s cold cellar, potentially putting her in danger. It just wasn’t right.

She went around to the front of the carriage house and took the key from the planter next to the door.

“Really original,” Newland commented.

She shot him a look and unlocked the door, lifting it in one heave-ho.

Newland whistled under his breath. “That’s some car.”

Natalie nodded. “That’s my aunt’s Packard. I believe they bought it off the showroom floor in 1956. It was the last year they made them.”

He took a step forward and ran his hand over the dusty front fender. “I take it she doesn’t drive much?”

Natalie shook her head and began searching along the wall. There had to be something in here she could use as a weapon. “Not so much these days, but she won’t get rid of it. Sentimental reasons, you know.” Ah-ha. Just what she was looking for.

She grabbed an ax handle out of one dusty corner and started out of the carriage house once again.

She brushed past Newland, who was still staring at the car as if he had somehow won the lottery, and started toward the cellar doors. “Shut the door behind you, okay?” She marched across the yard.

“Where are you going?”

She heard the door of the carriage house shut, but she didn’t stop. “They’re not going to get away with this.”

The next thing she knew she was grabbed around the waist and pulled completely off her feet. “Put me down!”

“Not until you promise you’re not going in there.”

“I have to. They stayed in my aunt’s cellar all night long. That is unacceptable.”

Somehow he wrestled the ax handle from her grip. She supposed it wasn’t too hard since he had her by about six inches and sixty pounds.

“They could have guns, Natalie. Never bring an ax handle to a gunfight.”

She deflated in his embrace. “I can’t allow this, Newland.”

“I understand that, babe. But you can’t go down there like this.”

Had he just called her babe?

He set her on her feet.

Natalie tugged on her t-shirt. It was a little short and kept riding up. “What are you going to do?” she asked him.

He pressed his lips together. “I don’t know, but you can’t go down there.”

She crossed her arms and felt the cool morning air across her midriff.

He gave her a tiny nod. “Nice outfit by the way. Doesn’t seem like something you would own.”

She smiled. “I don’t. These are Aubie’s.”

• • •

“Of course they are.” Newland shook his head. Just when he thought she was relaxing a bit, she had to drop a bombshell on him like that. “Okay here’s the plan. I’m going to take this ax handle and go down there. I’ll check things out, and you’re going to stay up here. Do you understand?”

She nodded, but he didn’t entirely trust her. What he would’ve given at that moment for a pair of handcuffs. He would handcuff her to the door handle where she couldn’t follow him. And then later … He pushed that thought away.

He stood to one side of the cellar doors and cautiously pulled open the right hand side. He took a step back as he waited for something to happen. What, he wasn’t exactly sure, just something. But when no one came out guns blazing, rebel yelling, karate chopping, or performing any other kind of lethal retaliation, he opened the other side much in the same manner.

Natalie snickered.

He glared at her. This wasn’t the time. “I don’t think they’re down there,” he said.

“So they left? I thought you said you stayed awake all night.”

“I did.” He’d taught himself a long time ago to survive on very little sleep. He could stay up for three days straight if necessary. Whatever it took to get the story.

“Then where did they go?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to have a look.”

“I’m right behind you.” He opened his mouth to protest but she raised a hand, cutting him off before he could even start. “This is my aunt’s house and my aunt’s cellar, and I’m going with you.”

Only because he was fairly certain that the Hughes brothers were nowhere near, he reluctantly nodded and started down the newly constructed ladder. He turned on the light while she climbed down next to him.

Just as he suspected, they were the only two in the cellar. Them and about twelve more cases of moonshine. Just where was it all coming from?

“How did they do that?” Natalie asked. “How did they come in but not come back out?”

Newland took his cell phone from his pocket and used his flashlight app to shine some light on the walls, starting over by the steps and slowly turning around. He carefully examined each wall as he went. “I don’t know for sure, but I have a theory.”

“And?” Impatience weighted her voice.

But Newland was more distracted looking for a way out than he was by her at that moment. “I read this article once about southern houses that had tunnels and secret passages that were used in the Underground Railroad.”

Natalie gasped. “You think this is one of those houses?”

Newland continued to study the wall. So far nothing seemed out of the ordinary, just packed-dirt walls hardened to rock over years of wear. “Didn’t you tell me that this house was built by a Yankee sympathizer?”

“Yeah, it was.” Natalie’s voice turned wispy with awe. “So the tunnels are real? You think the Yankee sympathizer put them in to help slaves escape?”

“It’s the only theory I can come up with. Two men the size of mountains came down here last night and never came back up. That means there has to be a second way out.”

“And that would explain how they got in last night without us noticing,” Natalie added.

He took a step closer to the wall reaching out one hand and touching … Fabric. “Here!” he cried. He felt toward the right again until he found the edge of the cloth. It was as big as a sheet and had been painted to look just like the wall surrounding it. Had he not been that close to it and looking at it directly, he might have never noticed. The dim light coupled with the lack of expectancy had fooled them into thinking it was just another piece of the wall. He pulled the painted curtain aside to reveal a gaping hole big enough to easily accommodate two large men.

“Is that what I think it is?” Natalie asked.

“Yeah, it is.” Newland shook his head. It was like some bad
Hardy Boys
mystery, moonshine stacked in the corner and secret tunnels.

“Where does it go?”

He shot her a look. “Like I know.”

“Only one way to find out,” she prodded.

“We are not going in there.”

“We have to!”

Newland pulled the curtain back into place. To the casual jelly seeker it looked just like another section of wall. And that was just the way it would remain. “No, we don’t. It’s dangerous. And if we can’t get the sheriff on our side then we’re going to have to come up with a different way to figure out why the Hughes brothers are storing moonshine in your aunt’s cellar.” He shook his head. “We don’t need to know why. They’re evidently moving it through the tunnel.”

“And that’s exactly why we need to know where the tunnel lets out.”

He shook his head again and grabbed her by one arm, pointing her toward the stairs leading out of the cellar. “It’s too dangerous, I’m not going to let you do that.”

She growled at him.

“Let it go babe,” he said. “You can get frustrated with lack of control all you want. But you are not in control of the situation. I am, and I say you’re not going down there.”

“But—”

“No buts.” He placed his hand on hers and pushed her toward the ladder once more.

Reluctantly, she did as he bade, but a part of him wondered if she did it to get away from his touch or if she truly was relinquishing control to him.

Fat chance.

• • •

Natalie fumed for most of the morning. Then she begged off spending any time with Newland and her aunt, citing she needed to go to her apartment and do some laundry. Most everything went to the cleaners except for the unmentionables and Aubie’s school clothes. But she just had to get away. Of course her apartment wasn’t any better, considering what had happened the last time she’d been there. She would never look at that couch the same way again. She’d probably have to get rid of it next week. And not just because it reminded her of Newland, but because it proved to her how quickly she could lose control over the situation. That was the last thing she needed. The one thing that she didn’t want in her life was someone who could make her abandon all of her sensibilities.

But it felt good to feel free just that one time, a tiny voice inside her whispered.

She squashed the voice and flipped through the magazine again. Oskar whined at the sliding glass door off the kitchen. She let him out into the common yard. He usually took care of his business and came back in. Well, not without a little bit of incentive.

She poured herself a drink as she waited for him to come back, knowing what was next. He stood at the opened door and whined again.

“Come on in, baby,” she crooned.

He whined louder.

Natalie sighed. “You want a piece of cheese?”

He barked enthusiastically and promptly pranced into the house. It was a bad habit they had gotten into. Now she couldn’t get him to come in without the coercion. Wasn’t that just the way of it? No one did anything out of the goodness of their heart anymore. Everybody had to have a reward.

Except for Gerald.

Normally the thought of him warmed the blood in her veins, but now she was just confused. How could she sleep with Newland if she was in love with Gerald Davenport?

It was just a matter of time before he declared his love for her and asked her to be his wife. Once that happened, everything would be perfect. Exactly the way she wanted it. And it wouldn’t matter that her dog begged for cheese before he would come into the house or that her brother had to be constantly reminded to brush his teeth, or that her aunt drank moonshine and played poker on Wednesday nights.

What about Newland?

She wasn’t going to think about that. She had to look toward the future. And he was not part of that. Gerald was.

After Thursday night Newland Tran would be gone. Gerald would remain, steady as always by her side.

They just needed a date night. That’s all it was. It’d been a long time since she’d gotten to spend any alone time with Gerald. They hadn’t had a non-benefit dinner together in months. It seemed like everything on their social calendar involved a charity or a foundation. They needed a night to rekindle things. That was all. One night to set everything back to rights. One night and everything would be perfect again.