Czech Mate 1st Edition Paulin

Visit to download the full and correct content document:

https://ebookmass.com/product/czech-mate-1st-edition-paulin/
Table of Contents

Title Page

Czech Mate
Copyright

Thank You!
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three

Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
Books by Brynn Paulin
 Czech Mate

By Brynn Paulin

Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

Powered by Your Imagination
 Czech Mate
by

Brynn Paulin
I couldn’t say no to spending the holidays in the Czech Republic with my high school friend. I miss
her, and it's the opportunity of a lifetime. My life at home is topsy turvy as I finish up college, too. The
respite away seems like just the thing, while I make a decision about my future.
Until I meet her older brother, Hasya. He does strange things to my insides and sends shivers down
my spine. When I’m around him, I have no space to think. Good thing his sister and I will be seeing
all the sights. I’ll barely see him.

Best laid plans and all that…

Hasya has other ideas. He intends to spend every minute of my vacation right beside me. Yay, me. At
least, the “sights” are drop-dead gorgeous no matter where we go.
 Copyright
© 2023, Brynn Paulin
Czech Mate
Cover Art by Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC

Electronic Format ISBN: 978-1-62344-441-9

Published by: Supernova Indie Publishing Services, LLC
Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work
is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is
investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s
imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely
coincidental.
 Thank You!
Thank you for your purchase of Czech Mate.
I hope you enjoy the story and will consider leaving a review or telling
a friend about the book.
I love hearing from readers! To keep in touch and follow my news,
please visit me on my website at www.brynnpaulin.com.
 Chapter One

Sutton Donovan

Since this was only my second flight ever, the first being my connector from Michigan to JFK, I
wasn’t very versed on the etiquette of being shoulder-to-shoulder with a stranger. Was I supposed to
say hi? Introduce myself?
I turned from the window I stared out and gave the man a small smile. Holy Mother of Everything!
Seriously? The Universe chose to seat me beside a demigod?
Whoever he was, he’d shed his coat, and his muscles strained against the sleeves of his white shirt
he’d rolled to his elbows. He wore a black buttoned vest over it, and dark pants molded his powerful
legs. Light brown hair curled at his collar, and his green eyes danced as his lips tugged, trying to
smirk.
Because, yeah, I was staring. Gaping, really.
I sucked in a sharp breath, tightened my smile then turned back to the window. Shoot, I’d just totally
checked him out, and he knew it. Normally, I’d pray for a hole to open up beneath me, but we were on
a plane, and I couldn’t be responsible for that sort of tragedy. So I’d just quietly die of mortification
in my cushy first-class seat—thank you, Mom and Dad for the gift.
At least, embarrassing myself had distracted me for a second. And…I hadn’t drooled. That would
have upped the embarrassment ante. Thankfully, he couldn’t see what looking at him had done to my
panties.

Geez, I was a mess.

Closing my eyes, I clasped my hands in my lap and reminded myself I was a confident woman who’d
graduated a semester early with her degree in atmospheric science. I’d even been accepted into an
advanced program for next year.
That didn’t mean anything to my nerves. They tumbled over and over on themselves, wrestling for
dominance in my middle as my flight to the Czech Republic AKA Czechia, as it was more casually
called, prepared to take off from JFK in New York. The craft maneuvered from the gate and taxied to
the runway. I listened to the pilot speak then refocused on the cabin attendant giving flight instructions.
“Do not worry,” my seatmate said, leaning toward me and inadvertently giving me a whiff of his
enticing cologne. “I have done this many times. I will assist you if there is trouble.”
He flashed me a smile, and I thought perhaps he was the trouble I’d encounter. If I’d been intrigued by
his looks and scent, his accent roped me in. I gave him another smile I hoped was friendly enough.
“American?” he asked.

“Obvious?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Just a guess. You seem nervous. First time to Czechia, Ano?”
Ano? Wait. I remembered from Ondra that that meant yes. Ondra had been the exchange student who’d
lived with my family when we were both sixteen.

I nodded in response to the guy, thinking I had no business visiting a country where I didn’t even know
the language. I would have learned something if I’d had more time. But I hadn’t. I’d only been invited
to visit Ondra a week ago. Thankfully, I had a passport, and it had taken ten minutes to get my ETIAS
visa waiver. But the language… Therein lay a problem. Ondra assured me I’d be fine, though. Many
in Prague spoke English, and she’d be with me.
Today, while I traveled, I found the whole trip overwhelming. I could only imagine how Ondra had
felt when she’d traveled to my home when we were juniors at Cherish Cove High School. Braver
than me. Now, six years later, it was my turn to visit her. Though we’d kept in touch and even
Facetimed, I hadn’t seen her since she’d flown home, so I was excited about that part of my trip
anyway—just not the flying.
I sucked in a breath then held it as the jet raced down the runway.
“Nervous flyer?” my seatmate asked.
“I guess. I mean…this is my second flight ever. My first was on the way to New York this morning.”
“You will get used to it.”
“Do you travel a lot?” I asked. Obviously, he’d flown to get to the States—at least, I assumed he
hadn’t crossed by boat.

“Ano. My first time here was when I was a teen. I did student exchange. Now, my…team members
and I travel all over the US.” He held out his hand as the plane leveled out, and I realized he’d
distracted me for most of the ascent. “I am Hasya.”
I shook his hand, wondering if the electric pulses I felt were my imagination or part of the attraction
I’d been trying to tamp down.
My tongue darted across my lips, and I swallowed. My ears crackled, and I swallowed again.
“Sutton,” I told him.
“Here,” he said and bent toward the carryon bag at his feet. He came up with two suckers and handed
me one. “Sucking on something will help fight the pressure in your ears.”
Sucking on something…
Heat rushed into my face as my mind raced right into the gutter.
“Thank you,” I said then busied myself unwrapping it lest he see my reaction. To my dismay, his eyes
twinkled when I looked up, and he smiled around the stick of the sucker.

“Most people use gum, but I have a sweet tooth.”

My eyes drifted over him before I could stop myself. He didn’t look as if he had a sweet tooth.
“So you carry around a bag of DumDums?” I raised a brow at him, glad my embarrassment was
fading for a moment.
“A few. So what takes you to Czechia? Business? Pleasure?”
The way he said pleasure conjured images I needed to banish.
“My friend invited me to her home to spend the holidays with her and her family. I’ll be there for
Christmas Day then fly home a couple days after.”

I’d been a little shocked when Ondra had invited me to spend Christmas with her family in Prague
after she’d learned my parents would be in Mexico for the holiday. I hadn’t minded being alone. My
mom and dad were awesome, and it was the only time they could take the trip they’d won, the first
time I could remember them ever going away.
Ondra had insisted I couldn’t be on my own for Christmas.
“Your friend lives in Prague?” he asked, settling back and swiveling his head toward me, so his cheek
rested on the headrest. It seemed intimate to me, but rolling with my attraction and the strange comfort
I felt with him, I mirrored his move. Our faces seemed so close, yet not as close as they would have
been if we weren’t in first class. That proximity would have been too much.
“Yeah, she does. You?”
He nodded slightly. “My family lives in Prague, as well. Because of my work, I have an apartment in
the States, though. So…I must tell you all the places you must visit while in my home country.”
 Chapter Two

Sutton
How could you fall for someone over the course of an almost nine hour flight?
Hasya entranced me the entire way. We talked about his family and mine. I knew he had a little sister
who was three years younger than him. I found out I was also three years younger than him, but it felt
like a comfortable gap.
Ever aware that we were indeed strangers, I kept the information I shared from being too personal,
being vague about specifics like my parents’ names and occupations as well as the name of the small
town where I lived. It seemed safe. Perhaps sensing this, he seemed to do the same and also steered
away from his occupation with an ambiguous comment when we ventured to that topic.
It still left us open to discuss much. Favorites. Dislikes. I knew he’d wrecked his first car, putting it in
a river, and his parents had been pissed, vowing to never help him get another vehicle. Apparently, it
had been the most famous river in the city, and they’d been mortified.
“It was justified,” he acknowledged. “I was being foolish. And I broke my arm which cause some
problems.”
“When I first started driving, my friend and I did some pretty stupid stuff, too,” I confessed. “One
night, we decided to head over to the beach and walk on the pier. Mind you, it was stormy, and the
park closed after dark. There was no way we should have been trying to walk out to the lighthouse.
We both almost got swept in, and by the time the beach security plucked us off the thing, we were both
crying and clinging to the iron frame that runs the center of the pier. So I know a thing or two about
pissed off parents—especially since my friend was our exchange student and she almost got sent
home. I was in such big trouble, and my parents had a lot of damage control to do.”
Hasya looked at me with a searching expression I couldn’t quite define. “You said you’re from
Michigan?”
“Yeah. Why?”
He shook his head. “No reason. Just… So was it Lake Michigan?”
“Yeah. It’s gorgeous. Even in storms—unless you’re on the pier.”
He was about to say something when the captain came on the intercom announcing our arrival in
English then what I guessed was Czech.
“I suppose we are here,” he said, as we stowed away our things for landing.
“Yeah… I… Yeah.” I almost asked if we could contact each other, but I didn’t. What was the point?
We were just strangers who’d passed time on the plane. “It was very nice to meet you,” I said. “I
almost wish the flight was longer.”

He chuckled at my joke, both of us knowing how I felt about flying. Though, I had to admit, it wasn’t
so bad with him keeping me company.

“Are you glad to be home?” I asked, knowing from our conversation that he’d been away for almost a
year.
“Ano. Yes. I will be glad to see my family. Facetime just isn’t the same as being in the same room.
And I think this holiday will prove to be quite interesting.”
Before I could ask more, we were landing then busy gathering our things. My heart sank a little as we
exited the plane and collected our bags. This was it, and I felt strangely…sad. As if I were losing an
opportunity I hadn’t had the chance to take.
I watched him as we headed to customs and found him looking my way, too. He didn’t seem nearly as
disheartened, and I supposed that should tell me something.
With just my one bag, I was able to move through security quickly. Hasya had gifts for his family,
however. Security seemed awfully interested in his violin case, which he’d had as a carry on, and he
growled at them, no doubt telling them to be careful, as it was opened.
Knowing this was it, I gave him a small wave then headed out to find Ondra and begin My Czechia
adventure.
I felt immediately lost in the unfamiliar place.
“Sutton!”
I turned toward the squeal to find Ondra running toward me. She slammed right into me, crushing me
in a hug.
“I cannot believe you are finally here! We are all so excited!” She pulled back, holding my shoulders
and looking at me like a doting aunt. “You look amazing.”
“So do you. I missed you!”
Ondra looked fantastic, actually. Her chic outfit, with her bouncy light brown hair falling around her
shoulders, looked so different from when she’d practically lived in jeans and T-shirts with snarky
sayings on them. Her makeup perfected her stunning features and made her green eyes pop.
Were green eyes a thing here?
“Spratek,” a familiar voice said from behind me, and Ondra jumped.
“Hasya!” she screamed, running into his arms. Okay…no. I wasn’t jealous. But… Damn it.
He said something to her in Czech to which she replied in kind, both of them smiling wide. Ondra
reached out a hand to me. “Sutton, come meet Hasya. I didn’t know he was coming.”

“Surprise,” he said.
“We met on the plane,” I told her. “We were actually sitting beside each other.”
“Really? How strange that you would end up next to my brother. Well, I suppose no introductions are
needed then.” She eyed the cart with his bags then looked to my one suitcase. “I hope everything fits
in the car. You always bring so much, Hasya.”
“I could leave your presents here, spratek.”
“Do not call me a brat in front of my friend,” she growled.
“So then in private?”

“So then never,” she countered and pointed. “I know your secrets.”
“And I know yours.”
That was when I realized he’d known. When I told him about the pier incident, he’d realized who my
friend was. I guessed that made my heart a little lighter and explained why he hadn’t mentioned
keeping in touch after we’d hit it off so well. Though, it still would have made sense.
Ondra ignored him and looked back to me. “So are you tired? Or are you ready to see the sights?”
“We should take her to the market,” he cut in, not letting his sister spirit me away. His hand landed
lightly on my back, skimming across it subtly as he reached for my bag and added it to the cart with
his.
My heartbeat speeding up, I glanced up at him and saw the fire in his eyes. He shuttered it away as he
glanced back at his sister.
Right. He was my good friend’s brother. Whatever I was feeling couldn’t happen. Even if he felt it,
too.
 Chapter Three

Sutton
I should have been exhausted since I’d been up for over twenty-four hours, having started my trip
from home at six in the morning my time. I wasn’t. As we arrived at the Old Town Square Market,
Hasya didn’t seemed tired in the least, either.
Feeling very much the tourist, I gaped around in awe after we parked on the outskirts of the square.
Directly across from us on the far side of the square loomed a giant cathedral, with smaller but still
impressive buildings surrounding it. The area was filled with red awninged booths and milling
people. So many people. A statue surrounded by a makeshift fence stood toward the center of the
space. A giant Christmas tree had been erected near it with what I assumed was a stage for shows
beside it.
It was everything I’d ever envisioned a Christmas market to be. Magical and filled with holiday
spirit.
“Remind me I parked near the clock,” Ondra told her brother. The reality that the hot stranger I’d met
on the plane was my friend’s brother was still settling in. That has to be fate, right?
“Clock?” I asked, looking around.
“It’s actually around the corner there,” Hasya said, pointing. His other hand went to my lower back
again, and though we’d bundled up before venturing out from the airport, the touch seemed to burn
clear down to my skin. I shivered from the tremor that went through me. “Here, I will show you.”

He led me away from Ondra, who called out for us to meet her at the line for…something I didn’t
understand. Hasya however gave her a chin lift, so I figured he understood her. I mean, of course, he
did. Czech was his native language.
“A bit surreal, yes?” he said as we moved toward the corner. “To find that you know my sister?”
“More to find that you’re the brother of my friend. I’ve known her longer. But yeah…it’s kind of
weird.”
He didn’t say anything. I glanced over at him, catching him licking his lips and drawing in his lip as if
he meant to say something but didn’t. His face immediately returned to normal, and he smiled down at
me when he caught me looking at him. He nodded ahead of us.
“This is the city hall tower and the astronomical clock. It is from the 1400s. If we were here when the
hour struck, it would show likenesses of the apostles passing the window above the dial. But that was
about eight minutes ago.”
I stared at the impressive dials, actually amazed at the medieval marvel that had lasted to this day.
“It’s beautiful.”

“Aye, it is.”
“Aye?” I teased.
“Sorry.” He chuckled. “One of my mates is a Scot. I am afraid some parts of his pattern of speaking
have leaked into my knowledge of English.”
“Did you learn English here? Originally?” I asked, remembering Ondra’s proficient yet limited
knowledge of the language when she’d come to live with my family.
“Yes, but it was weak. All my years traveling the States has improved it.”
I had to agree. He seemed to have a perfect grasp.

“When we talked earlier, you said you’d been working in US since you were eighteen. You lived
there while Ondra was with us?” I asked as we headed into the fray to find her. He kept his hand at
my back, protectively guiding me. I didn’t mind. In fact, I could envision him doing that for other more
intimate reasons, such as showing his claim on me.
Stop it, Sutton. My heart didn’t want to heed the warning, though.
“Yes,” he said. “It eased my parents’ worries some, to know I was nearby if there was an emergency.
Though we all understood I couldn’t go to see her.”
“You could have,” I murmured, wishing he had.
“There were rules, as you know. Plus I was working, traveling all over.”
“And what is it you do?” I asked, raising a brow at him. This time, I was direct since he couldn’t
really sidestep. If he didn’t tell me, his family would probably mention it during my stay.
“Music. Ah, there’s Ondra. Of course. She is at the trdelník booth. Come. You will try this?”
“What is…truh…trel…whatever you said?” I looked at the long line where Ondra stood. The scent of
sugary baked goods filled the air, and my stomach growled as I inhaled. Since our flight had been
essentially overnight, it had been a while since I’d eaten a meal. And it was closing in on noon here.
“Trdelník,” he repeated more slowly. “It is a dessert, a traditional Czech cake.”
“Like a…funnel cake?” I asked, trying to match the scent with the fair-like atmosphere of the square.
He shook his head. His hair brushed against his collar, a lock falling over his forehead. My fingers
curled, wanting to reach up and smooth it back—sort of. Because I really just wanted to touch him,
but I loved the rogue curl flirting with one of his green eyes. He smoothed it back before I gave into
temptation.
“You will see,” he said, not answering my curiosity.
Ondra waved us over, and Hasya placed his hand at my back to guide me again. He could do that all
day long as far I was concerned, but I was sure Ondra would start to question it—a problem, since he
was just being polite. And even if that wasn’t true, my friend would probably have a big opinion
about me being attracted to her brother I’d known for less than twelve hours.
As if to confirm my thoughts, Hasya’s hand dropped away and disappointment rose inside me. I tried
to tamp it down, telling myself it was unreasonable. Before I could sort through my thoughts, we
reached the counter of the booth, and Ondra ordered. Next thing I knew, I had a cone-shaped,
cinnamon-sugar covered pastry filled with soft-serve ice cream in my hand.
Taking a taste, I moaned.
Hasya’s eyes came to me, and for a moment, I glimpsed hunger in them. I thought so anyway. He
smiled, amusement pushing aside the darker need so effectively that I wondered if I’d imagined it due
my own errant desire.

“Good?” he asked while Ondra hustled us toward another booth, insisting I needed to check out the
handmade ornaments.
“Very good.” All of this was. In my opinion, this was the start of the best trip of my life. I hoped it
continued to be just as good.
 Chapter Four

Hasya
Though she tried to hide it, Sutton yawned roundly behind her hand while looking away from me.
With the long flight, the time difference and spending hours at the Market Square, I was feeling the
weariness, as well. But I knew that was about to be compounded when I walked into my parents’
house, where Ondra still lived and my bedroom hadn’t been touched since the last time I was here.
My parents thought leaving my room “as is” was more than fair since I’d paid for the remodeling on
the home and attached Airbnb that had been in our family for over a century.

“Ondra, you drag your friend all over town and not bring her direct home,” my mom admonished in
stilted English as she came out the front door. Obviously, she hadn’t seen me yet as I stood behind the
open trunk of the compact car, wrestling out the bags.
“Mama…” Ondra complained.
“Hush. Sutton, I am so pleased to meet you after all these years. You and your family have been in my
prayers on each day.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Novak. I’m glad to meet you. Thank you for inviting me,” my girl said. Yes, mine.
Sometime on the long flight, I’d realized it had been fate seating me beside the first woman to intrigue
me in years. And then when I’d figured out she was my sister’s friend, all my instincts had been
confirmed. She was destined for me.
“Of course. You are family. I have a prepared a room for you in our inn so you will have some
privacy. We do not have guests for the holiday, and my son, whose room is also there, is away.”
“You mean me, Mama?” I asked, stepping out with the bags.
Her screech could be heard across the countryside. She flew at me and crushed me in her arms.
Closing my eyes, I returned her embrace.
“You terrible boy,” she cried into me as her arms tightened, and she reverted to our native language.
“I thought you weren’t coming home for Christmas! You said you had to work.”
“I wanted to surprise you. And I am going to work. The band got here yesterday for the Christmas
special they’re filming for one of the streaming services. I’ll be gone all tomorrow for our rehearsal,
but I have tickets for the show, for all of you, including Ondra’s friend.”
I was more glad than ever that I’d reserved that extra ticket, but I wondered how Sutton would react
to finding out the nature of my job, which I’d glossed over.
“I can’t wait,” Ondra cut in.

“It’s so loud,” Mama complained.

“I brought you earplugs, too.” I winked. She wouldn’t use them, but she loved to complain about how
raucous my band was.
She shook her head at me. “Come inside.” She patted my cheek. “You’re hungry. You look like you
could eat. Don’t you eat in America?” She switched to English. “Are you hungry, Sutton?”
“Oh my goodness,” Sutton replied, her eyes sliding over to Ondra then to me as if wondering what to
tell my mother. I shrugged, and she looked back at Mama. “We actually had trdelník at the square,”
she said, coming close on the pronunciation but not quite there. “Then corn dogs and fries, which
surprised me to find here. I think I’ll be full for a while. I’m sorry.”
Her voice went up at the end, almost apologizing for not having my mom prepare food for us.

Mama patted Sutton’s cheek. “Later then, yes. Come, Ondra and I will show you your room. Not as
private now that noisy Hasya is here.”
“I’m not noisy,” I laughed.
“Since when?” She raised a brow at me, while Sutton rolled her lips together, clearly holding back a
smile and failing. She was adorable. I wanted to make her smile often. To giggle. To laugh while I
wrestled with her and tickled her, while I made love to her—okay, maybe I didn’t want her to laugh
then, but I couldn’t get making love to her off my mind.
She ate trdelník, and I thought of her lips on me. I stood near her, and I wondered at how sweet her
scent would be while we were naked and I feasted between her thighs. I touched her arm, and I
wondered how soft her flesh would feel skin-on-skin.
And I’d learn all those things before the end of her time here—as well as how to figure out a way
around Ondra being her friend. I saw Sutton’s caution when it came to that, and she wasn’t wrong.
Our whole life, Ondra had warned me away from her mates—with no good reason for her suspicious
nature. I’d never been interested in a single one of them. How ironic that it would be Sutton, the
woman living in the room beside mine for the next week.
At least, I assumed that was where Mama had put her. It was the space she generally used for family
guests.
“I’ll show her,” Ondra said. “Sutton and I can catch up, and we’ll be down later. Hasya, are you
meeting up with friends, or will you be here later.”
“Both. I have to see them, then I’ll be back.” I looked at Sutton. “I will see you later.”
Hopefully, she took that as the promise it was. I couldn’t be too obvious, until I knew how she wanted
to handle my sister, but I wanted her to know I had intentions for her. Though she couldn’t possibly
have any idea how serious those intentions were. How could she? We’d just met, and my feelings
surprised even me.
Her serious gaze met mine. “I’ll see you later.”

Yes, she definitely would be.

 Chapter Five

Sutton
All of Ondra’s family spoke English, easing my worries about visiting without a good knowledge of
the Czech language.
“It is because of the tourists we have staying at the guesthouse,” Ondra said. “No matter what country
they are from, they usually know English.”
“We are so thankful Ondra has chosen to stay and work at the family business,” her father, Marek, told
me as we ate dinner. “Her cultural and hospitality studies have been helpful. And then there is
Hasya.” He looked across the dinner table at his older child.
“Papa,” Hasya protested.
Marek sighed, playacting being put upon, and I tried to hold back my grin. Ondra and Hasya’s family
was so much fun, and they obviously held deep affection for each other. I knew Ondra could be over-
the-top dramatic, though, and I wondered if that ran through anyone else in the group.
“I think you can make it right by playing a tune for us in place of our prayer,” Marek offered. His lips
quirked, and Hasya nodded, getting up from the table. The fact that he went to the console table just
outside the dining room and immediately returned with a shiny black violin told me he’d expected
this.
Ondra leaned toward me.
“He took a million years of lessons. They like to see how it paid off,” she whispered.
Hasya’s gaze met mine, which had never strayed from him. Mesmerized, I watched him lift the bow in
his long fingers. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he notched the violin beneath his chin.
His fingertips positioned on the strings then the bow drew across.
The air caught in my chest as I watched him sink into the music, and the mournful, hypnotic melody
poured forth. Silent Night. A more nuanced and full-bodied version than I’d ever heard, more than I
could have imagined from a solo violinist. Tears pricked my eyes, and I could understand why Marek
had asked for this as prayer. It moved me so unexpectedly my emotions weren’t prepared. Hasya was
amazing. Talented beyond what I’d ever seen…heard…both.
I wanted to clap when he finished, and I finally breathed. Thankfully, Marek led the way with light
applause, and we all showed our appreciation.
“That was beautiful,” I told Hasya when he returned to his seat across from me.
His chin dipped. “Thank you. The energy of my audience feeds my performance.”

“Cheesy,” Ondra groaned.

“What?” he teased. “You don’t think I enjoy playing for the appreciation of my family.”
His sister rolled her eyes, but my brain caught on family. Was he including me in that? Ondra had
been my exchange student sister, a part of my family when she’d stayed with me. Did he now I
consider me as his sibling?
I didn’t like how that idea settled inside me. The looks he’d given me all day when no one was
looking didn’t mesh with that. They weren’t brotherly. At least, I didn’t think so. I didn’t have
brothers, but none of my friends’ brothers looked at them with heated gazes because, yeah, ew. Still,
there was nothing skeevy about the way Hasya ate me up. I wasn’t imagining it.
It was distinctly possible the energy zinging between us was the only thing keeping me awake at this
point. My brain couldn’t possibly do the math, factoring in the time difference, but I knew I’d been
awake for well over twenty-four hours by now. It was catching up with my fast. I prayed Ondra didn’t
want to do something tonight. Going out sounded like torture to my exhausted body.
Her mom took that out of my hands.
“Your room is good?” she asked me.
“Oh! Yes. It’s perfect.”
She gave a single nod. “You will go to bed after dinner and not let Ondra drag you around Prague
tonight. Get some rest.”
I wasn’t sure if it was an order or if she intended it as a question. In either case, I was grateful. There
wasn’t much I could do to ignore the bone-deep weariness that was beginning to make me feel a little
disconnected from my body.

Returning her nod, smiling, I agreed. “I think that soft bed is calling my name.”
While Ondra and I had sat on it, talking, earlier, it had been all I could do not to curl up on the cloud
of down comforters.
“I will do the same,” Hasya put in. “It will be a long day tomorrow.”

****

The next day, a good sleep had left me refreshed. Ondra had taken me to the Castle Hill Christmas
market, we’d walked the Charles Bridge and even climbed to the top of the bridge’s tower to view
the city. She’d kept me so busy, I barely had time to think about Hasya—that’s not to say I didn’t. I
did. A lot.
I knew he was getting ready for the concert tonight; Ondra had told me he’d be rehearsing all day. Not
that I’d asked.
“You must be glad to have him home,” I told her as the family drove to the concert where he’d play
tonight. I’d never been one for orchestral music, but watching Hasya play would eclipse it all.
I felt her shrug since we were shoulder-to-shoulder in the backseat of the car, her boyfriend on the
other side of her. I felt a little like a third wheel but tried to shake it off. Jakub was nice, and this was
a family outing. Still, I avoided looking at how their hands were twined, disliking the needy, achy
sensation the sight caused in my middle. Not for holding hands with Jakub, but for being close to
Hasya.
“Yes,” she said. “But it has been nice not to have my friends throwing themselves at him. You do not
have a brother, so you have no idea how tiresome and annoying that is.”
“I’ll bet,” I murmured, considering myself duly warned. Apparently, I’d worried about her reaction to
my attraction to her brother with very good reason. A deeper ache set up when I realized nothing
could ever come of it.
Of course, I’d known that. I lived in a small town in Michigan, and he traveled the States—when he
wasn’t home in the Czech Republic. What had I been thinking to allow myself to develop this mini-
crush. Problem was, it didn’t feel like a crush. I’d never, ever felt this way, and as the hopelessness
of it set in, I stared out the car window, watching the city lights reflect off the Vltava River.
Minutes later, I had myself reined in as we walked into the auditorium. My brow furrowed at the
rowdy atmosphere that wasn’t like any symphony I’d ever attended with my parents. Huh. Well, when
in Prague?
I followed Hasya’s parents to our seats in a box high above the stage. Again, color me surprised. But
again, we’d entered through a side entrance, not the front where the crowd of attendees came inside,
so maybe, I should have expected something fancy.
Marek said something in Czech, then as if remembering I didn’t speak the language, he gave me a
small smile.
“This is nice,” he repeated. “These seats.”
I nodded. I mean, what else could I say? I’d never had seats like these at home, cushy and above the
crush of the crowd, with plenty of space between me and the people beside me, so we weren’t
practically sitting in each other’s laps. Curiously, I gazed down at the stage, getting the impression I’d
been very mistaken about what we were about to see. Keyboards…drums…and banks of lights filled
the space.
“What’s Hasya’s band called?” I asked Ondra, feeling pretty stupid that I hadn’t made some sort of
connection.
“Czech Mate. You have heard of them?”
Holy crap.
“Yes.” My voice was small, but I didn’t think she noticed because the lights lowered and excited
yells filled the cavernous space. I melted back into my seat, reality underlined. The attraction
between me and Hasya would go nowhere. Not because we lived in different places, him traveling a
lot and me being a student. No. It was because the man I’d fallen for—secretly, thank goodness—was
an honest-to-God, freaking rock star.
 Chapter Six

Sutton
If anything, the draw to Hasya increased while I watched him race around the stage. Much like
yesterday on the plane, he wore a black vest and black pants, this time with a short-sleeved white
button down beneath. His powerful biceps strained the fabric while he played the crowd, the rock
tunes wailing from his black, modern-style electric violin.
Various people sang, but it was the riffing guitars and yes, the maestro on violin that were the stars of
the show. Czech Mate was known for their fast-paced, hard-rock, instrumental music, not for their
vocals.
My eyes were pinned to Hasya the whole time—as were those of most people. I suspected that. He
was magnetic as he leapt to the beat of the tunes they placed and dashed from place to place. My heart
rose to my throat as a lift raised him horizontal over the audience while he never missed a beat, his
feet planted on the platform while a single strap held him secure. It terrified me. My hand pressed to
my neck, and I couldn’t breathe until he was secure on stage again and resumed his running.
I cheered along with his family and the rest of the crowd when he returned to safety, though I swore he
was looking right at me when he shot a self-satisfied smirk our way before taking off in another dash.
I had no idea how he had so much energy.
The concert ended all-too-soon. We hung out in the box while the auditorium started to empty. After
about twenty minutes, we were ushered back to meet up with Hasya.

I hung back, unsure how to process everything and wondering how I fit into this scenario. I didn’t.
That was the answer, despite all his flirting.
“So, what did you think? he asked, his arms spread wide and matching his broad smile. In the twenty
minutes since leaving the stage, he’d changed and obviously jumped into a quick shower.
“Loud,” his mother said, while his father nodded.
“All those years of lessons,” he bemoaned. It was obvious they were both teasing him. They’d
clapped as loud as everyone else through the whole thing. Now, they both gave him hugs and
murmured things in his ear in Czech, probably words of praise, judging from the softening of his
handsome face.
“Thanks for inviting me,” Jakub said.
Hasya looked around.
“Who let you in?” he teased. “Security!”

He gave Jakub a side hug, his arm hooked around the other man’s neck. Clearly, they were close.

“Jakub is Hasya’s best friend,” Ondra said, leaning in to murmur in my ear.

That seemed…ironic.

Hasya looked toward his sister. “Are you guys coming out after?”
“I think we are going to head home,” she said. “Jakub has work early tomorrow. “
“We are going home, as well,” his mom said. “We are too old for the night life.”
Hasya raised an eyebrow at her, silently calling bullshit.
“You should take Sutton with you,” his dad offered. “No need for her to suffer since we all need to get
home.”
“Oh, I…” I started to protest, then Hasya’s gaze was on me. Something in his green eyes told me he’d
wanted to look at me this whole time, but had waited for the opening. Because…Ondra.
“How did you like the show?” he asked.
“It was amazing. I’ve heard about you guys back in the States, but I’ve never been to a concert.”
“We will have to change that,” he said, as if it were a foregone conclusion that we’d interact after I
went home. I glanced sideways at Ondra, but she seemed occupied by something Jakub said to her.
“So what do you say?” Hasya asked me. “Shall I show you around nighttime in Prague?”
“Oh, you must,” his mom insisted.

I shrugged and took the opening. “Okay.” I looked at Ondra, who seemed to be having some sort of
disagreement with her boyfriend. “You’re okay with it? Do you…um…need me?”
“No,” she said then must have realized her words seemed harsh. Her face softened. “You should go.
Have fun.”
With a nod from Hasya, showing his satisfaction, I got shuffled toward him while the group exchanged
hugs and goodbyes. Then suddenly, we were alone, save for the people still milling around this back
area.
He held out his hand for me to take. “Alone at last.”
“Yes,” I whispered, placing my fingers in his. He closed his around mine.
“Are you okay?”
“I…” Apparently, he’d sensed my turmoil. “This is a little overwhelming. I had no idea.”
He nodded. “I liked that. You got to know me as me first.”

“I guess so. But… You’re Ondra’s brother.”

“True. She warned you away from me?” he asked, guessing correctly at the conversation I’d had with
his sister.
“More or less. She expressed her displeasure at her friends going after you.”

He nodded again. While we talked, he led me through the backstage area of the venue. Crew members
hustled around, but no one stopped him or even seemed to take much notice of him. We headed toward
a door beside a loading bay, and he opened it to show me outside.
“You can just be out and about, and no one cares?” I asked after he saw me into a compact blue car
parked among some other vehicles back there.

He started the engine, then looked over his shoulder to back out of the spot. His eyes paused to take
me in, warming me all over before he turned forward again to put the gear into drive.
“Few realize I am the band. With the lights and distance and pyrotechnics, I am just a guy playing
kickass violin and doing stunts.”
I grinned. “It was kickass. Um…that flying over the crowd thing. I thought I was going to die. That
terrified me.”
“It is very safe. I promise.”
I grimaced but didn’t argue all the things I thought could go wrong. “Are you meeting with your band?
Tonight at wherever we’re going?”
He shook his head. “They are all heading to the hotel with their families. They were sightseeing all
yesterday, and we had practice all day today. Most of them are married or have girlfriends and kids
here. Offstage, we are a boring bunch. Not the stereotypical rock stars who are getting drunk and
doing drugs.”
“I don’t think most do that anyway,” I countered. I wasn’t disappointed that we’d be alone. As much
as I knew nothing could happen with us, something inside me urged me to take this leap, this chance
with Hasya. Not because he was a rock star of sorts. I’d developed the feelings before I had an
inkling of that. But because…I really liked him. He lit me up inside.
“No. You are right. They do not—at least, not the ones I know.” He reached over and linked our
fingers while he drove.
“So where are we going?” I asked.
“I thought perhaps we could walk along the Vltava. It is very beautiful at night. Romantic.”
“Romantic,” I echoed, my throat tight with anticipation. Need. Quickly, I sorted though my feelings.
No, they were totally disconnected from the performance part of his life.
“This is alright?” he asked, his voice a rasp, his accent heavier.

“It is. I…I like you, Hasya.”

“And I, you.”
“I don’t know how this can work. You… Well, being you. And Ondra as your sister. And I’m just a
student in Michigan.”

“We can leave that for later,” he suggested. “Be us, here on vacation until it is time to go home. We
can see where things go.”
“But your home is here.”
“No. My home is in New York. But it can be anywhere. I only tour part of the year, travel to practice
with the group for two months before. We live all over the world.”

My brow furrowed. “Your off time isn’t in the Czechia? The US doesn’t make you leave between
working sessions.”
“No. I perform solo throughout the country for various symphony invitations. They are usually
something I fly in and out for quickly. But I am a US citizen—as of three years ago. I still hold Czech
citizenship, as well.”
“Oh…” I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten to this turn in conversation, but it was good to know, I
supposed. Still, I had to stop looking so far ahead. Be in the now. Peering into the future only brought
disappointment and probably heartbreak.
“Here we are.” Hasya pulled into a space in a small car park, then hurried around to my side to offer
me a hand while he held open the door. My fingers curled into his as I stood. Immediately, he pulled
me toward him, until we were chest-to-chest.

“It is not just me?” he rasped. “You feel this tug, too?”
“Yes.”
“And we will not let things—or people—affect it?”
“Ondra…”
“Ondra is Ondra,” he finished. His hand curled on the side of my neck, then skimmed up to cup my
cheek. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
His head dipped forward, surprising me, but I didn’t hesitate to meet his firm lips and to sink into the
pleasure of kissing this man who’d enraptured me since the moment he’d sat next to me on the plane
ride here.
 Chapter Seven

Hasya
I’d wanted to kiss Sutton since…well, since I’d first seen her. Her soft lips and mouth tasted of
strawberries and mint, and she smelled like strawberries too as I drew her closer, needing to feel her
against my body. Our coats precluded as much contact as I wanted, but it was just as well since we
were beside a public walkway.
I might have told her that I was relatively anonymous here in Prague, but it wasn’t completely true. I
did get recognized from time to time. I didn’t want pictures of Sutton and me making out to land on
social media. My bandmates would have a great time ribbing me about that. Still, I couldn’t resist
holding her tight to me and sinking deeper into the kiss, exploring her mouth. I groaned at the warmth,
her flavor, the slide of her tongue against mine. All of it just made me want more.
“Walk,” I gasped against her lips. “We need to walk before I do something rash like strip us down and
take you against the side of this car.”
“Yes,” she whispered. An agreement that we should walk or an agreement we should make love? I
wasn’t sure. We’d do both if I had my say, though the latter not in public.
Lacing our fingers again, I brushed my mouth over hers once more then led her onto the walkway
beside the river.
“It’s so pretty,” she murmured. “I saw a little bit of it, the lights on the water, while we were driving
to the concert today.”

It was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the woman beside me.

“I like it more than going to a club,” I confessed. Even more so now, since I had Sutton all to myself
here without having to struggle to create a bubble of intimacy around us.
We walked in silence for a time, just enjoying the time together, though it was growing chillier. Not as
cold as I was used to on the East Coast of the States this time of year, though.
“I like it better, too,” she agreed. “I’ve never been much of a club person. I only agreed so I could
spend time with you. Is that terrible?”
“I do not think so. You brought up Ondra, earlier, and her grousing about her friends hitting on me—
which I have never taken them up on. But what would you want? If my sister wasn’t a factor?”
She nibbled her bottom lip, and I groaned, wanting to lean in and kiss her again. I’d just gotten my
dick back under control, however. Still, watching her, wanting her, I was getting hard again.
“If Ondra wasn’t my long-time friend? If I was here on my own for vacation? I wouldn’t have a single
reservation about spending all my time with you.” She lifted a shoulder, her lips twisting to the side,
as if maybe she shouldn’t admit that.

“I feel the same.”

“Tomorrow, I’m on my own,” she added. “Ondra has to go to Jakub’s family’s home for a celebration.
I opted not to go since I don’t want to impose. I figured I would visit the castle and some other
landmarks.”
“I will take you,” I offered, jumping on the opportunity. “It would be my great pleasure.”
“Would it?” she teased, picking up on my eagerness. “Taking me around to the sights? Would this be a
special tour that involves more kisses?”
“Yes. Speaking of…” Having lasted as long as I could, I drew her back to me and dropped my mouth
over hers again. Sutton went to her tiptoes, curling her fingers into my coat and pressing closer to me.
Her lips opened under mine, and I groaned at the pure pleasure that flowed through me, lighting my
senses and throbbing in my cock. I needed Sutton Donovan with everything in me.

****

Sutton
Last night…
God, last night had been a dream. The concert, spending time with Hasya, kissing him. We’d kissed
for hours. On the river walk, in his car, against my bedroom door. I’d almost invited him into my
room, and I would have except he’d leaned his forehead against mine, breathing hard, and told me
goodnight.

Before I could gather words, he’d strolled away, leaving me vibrating with need. He’d disappeared
into his room before I got myself back together. I almost walked over and knocked on his door, but the
absolute truth of the matter was…I wasn’t that bold. I wasn’t sure any part of me had the lady balls—
plus, we’d only met a little over two days ago. Would it be too soon? I always adhered to the three
date rule—not that many had made it that far. I wasn’t big on dating. I was also pretty dang choosy.
Which made this whole thing with Hasya so out of character for me.
“Ready to go?” Hasya asked as I came back from the kitchen after getting rid of my breakfast plate
and coffee cup. He hadn’t been around when I came down to see off Ondra at an ungodly hour this
morning. After she’d gone, I’d read near the front window and watched the world wake up until one
of the kitchen staff had come out to ask if I’d like coffee.
Another way we were different. The Novak family had staff.
“I am. Do you need to have breakfast? Coffee?”
He shook his head. “I don’t usually eat in the morning. I’ll grab a coffee at the coffee shop on the
way.”

“Oh. Okay. What’s the plan for the day?”

“I thought we could go back to the river and see the swans. Ondra took you to the market yesterday,
but did you try the svarak?”
“No. I don’t think so anyway. I’m finding your sister has quite a sweet tooth—which is amazing with
how thin she is. We tried that dessert, the trdelník, again. Some other pastries, too. And chocolate.”
“Sounds like her. Svarak is a wine. Since you said you might visit the castle, I thought we could go to
Wallenstein Palace, the St. Vitus Cathedral and the Church of St. Nicholas—all must-see landmarks.”
“The wine afterward then?” I laughed, thinking perhaps it would be better to save that until after the
churches.

“After,” he agreed. “Then I will take you to dinner and perhaps even later, have my wicked way with
you, as they say.”
“I’m not sure who they is, but…it sounds like a plan.”
And as the butterflies battered my middle, I already knew what my favorite part of this whole day
would be—being with Hasya, kissing Hasya and getting intimate with Hasya. A sure thing because
those promises were all clear in his bright green eyes.
 Chapter Eight

Sutton
Okay…so svarak was a mulled wine with citrus flavor, and it sure made me all warm and fuzzy, and
boy, I wanted to climb Hasya like the proverbial tree.
“You know what’s hot?” I asked.
“You tipsy? You on any given day?”

“No,” I laughed. “You playing your violin. I…felt things the other night when you played at dinner.
Probably terrible since it was supposed to be prayerful and all. But all I could think was how hot you
are, and how talented your fingers are and how they would feel—”
I clapped a hand over my mouth stopping the flow of embarrassing words. Hasya chuckled.
“I promise I’m not drunk,” I said. “Just a little uninhibited. Unfortunately.”
“I like it. I like hearing what you think of me. I think you are hot, too.”
“Thank you for taking me all over the place today. The art at St. Nicholas was breathtaking. And the
market was fun. Even though I went there with Ondra, it was different with you.”
“I am sure she didn’t kiss you in every secluded corner.”
I giggled, letting him pull me into his embrace. The family was already in bed, and we were alone in
the inn portion of the house. Being with Hasya was fun. Exhilarating. And this was the first time I was
feeling him pressed to me without our coats in the way. The heat from his chest seeped through to me,
every hard plane of muscle testifying to his active lifestyle, to the power he showed on stage.
“You’re like the Energizer Bunny,” I said.
He laughed. “What?”
“I was…” My hands splayed on his chest, feeling his heavy heartbeat beneath my palms. “You’re so
strong. And I was thinking how tireless you are onstage. Like the Energizer Bunny. You keep going
and going and…”
“I would like to show you another way I keep on going.”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a question. It was more an answer. An invitation. “Come to my room?”
“Yes.” But he didn’t move from our spot. His hands skimmed up my back, caressing over my neck
before forking into the hair at the back of my head. His mouth sealed over mine, and I groaned as he
took possession, my back hitting the wall as we grappled to get closer. The taste of svarak lingered
on his tongue, and I drank of him, needing everything he’d give, wanting to give him everything. One
of his hands traveled back down my back to my ass.

He lifted me easily pressing me harder into the wall while his center pressed to mine. I wrapped my
arms and legs around him, holding him close.

“I need you naked,” he said.

“I need you naked.”
“Your room or mine?” he asked, un underlying rumble of laughter keeping things light between us,
even as the heaviness of this unrelenting attraction, lust, dragged us under a blanket of hedonistic
promise.
“Mine.” Even as we came together, the tiniest little voice told me I didn’t want to make the walk back
to my room if anything went wrong between us.
He nodded. Reaching to the side, he opened my door then carried me inside, kicking it shut. Long
strides, which reminded me of his running across stage last night, brought us to the bed in moments.
He tipped me onto the mattress, leaning over me and pressing his lips against mine again.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered. “Are you sure? If I have you, I will not ever be able to give you
up. You will be mine, Sutton. Better or worse. Can you be with a musician who travels, a man who is
Czech?”
“Of course, I can. You being Czech has never crossed my mind as an issue. It’s sexy. You’re sexy.”
“But the other part. I travel.”
Was he trying to talk me out of this? I knew this about him. We’d talked about it last night. The fact he
was so adamant told me he really did want more than a one-night stand or a vacation fling. The reality
stole my breath.
“I’m sure,” I managed. “But…”
“But?”
“You’re sure? About starting this…” This whatever it was. I didn’t know what to call it.
“I’ve been sure since fate put you beside me on that plane.”
I swallowed hard, overwhelmed. “Then…yes. To all of it. To seeing where this goes and not limiting
things to now.”
I was probably crazy to promise that—we were both crazy. How could we both feel this way in a
flash?
“Princezno,” he whispered, kissing me again. His fingers went to the hem of my sweater while I
pulled at the buttons of his black shirt he wore open at the collar. Black…always black clothes.
Unless it was a white button-down.

He whispered something in Czech when he’d bared me to my bra and pants. His lips pressed to the
center of my chest, just below the thin crisscross of ribbon that held the two cups together. He flicked
at the fragile X of silk with his tongue before pulling with his teeth.

I moaned, bowing my back upward in an offering. If he wanted to rip it, fine. I didn’t care. I just
wanted his mouth and hands on me. Answering my silent plea, he reached a hand under me and
flicked open the closure. In a flash, my bra was off and his mouth closed over one turgid nipple,
rolling the beaded, achy tip with his tongue and teasing it with his teeth.
“Hasya,” I gasped.
He growled, sucking harder and sending sparks of electric arousal careening through me to strike at
my very core. Unrelenting, he continued while at the same time plucking at the other nipple, pulling
and rubbing, until I shook beneath him.
My panties were drenched with my need for him, and I wrapped my legs around him, rocking my
pelvis into him, taking my pleasure, even through my clothes.
Another rumble rolled through Hasya, and he reached between us, roughly opening my jeans and
working his hand inside. His fingers slide into my wetness, and he found my clit with the precision of
a NASA scientist guiding trillion dollar machinery. Without pausing, he showed me just what his
talented fingers could do to me. He worked them over my aroused bud as if I were his instrument,
playing me and dragging a symphony of cries from me in the process.
“You feel amazing, princezno. I cannot wait to bury my cock inside you. To make you sing from the
pleasure of it while I fuck you.”
“Oh, God, yes.” I started pulling at his clothes again, yanking open his shirt and not caring if a few
buttons flew. He mostly wore black, so this shirt was expendable, like so many of his others, and at
the moment, I hated it. My hands traveled down his hard belly, tracing the bricks of abs that greeted
me. Good grief, he was built. It was his happy trail that gained most of my attention, though, as I
skimmed my fingers over the thin line of hair to his waistband.
Hasya pulled back from his ministrations and watched me touching him. Our eyes met as I paused.
The fire there, the longing, urged me on. Biting my lip, I swallowed and reached for his waistband.
He swore under his breath, the sound almost sounding like a prayer, and though I didn’t understand the
words, I knew it was the former rather than the later.
My fingers grazed the tip of his long shaft as I released the button on his pants then the backs of them
ran along the throbbing length while I drew down the zipper. Propelled into action, Hasya tugged off
my jeans and panties then stood and yanked off the rest of his clothes.
“You’re a work of art,” I whispered, reaching for him. He climbed back between my legs. His knees
wedged between mine, pushing me wide as he moved lower. Then his shoulders held me open as he
planted his mouth over my pussy.
“Never tasted anything better,” he groaned, licking a path through my folds. My eyes closed, and I
canted my hips up into his marauding mouth. Unable to stop, I sank into the sensations of his slightly
raspy tongue trailing over me, of his fingers exploring. I cried out and bucked when he pushed a finger
inside, unerringly finding my g-spot.
“Hasya!”

“Come for me,” he demanded. His lips closed around my clit while he pushed another finger inside
and curled both over and over into that most sensitive spot that made me see stars.
I tumbled over the edge more quickly than I’d ever imagined I could. Hasya didn’t stop, driving me
there once more before he could be satisfied.
I stared at him, boneless, when he rose over me. Both of us panted, me from orgasm and him from the
heavy lust darkening his green eyes. Equal lust drove me. I pulled him down with my arm behind his
neck, kissing him wildly while my other hand explored his back. My legs wrapped around him again.
“I have never tasted anything better,” he gasped when I let him up for air. His wide tip pushed to my
opening, and I almost came from the excitement pulsing through me.
“I have never felt anything better,” he added as he pushed forward. “Fuck. Fuck. You are so…tight.
Hot.”
“Oh…Hasya…” I cried as his shaft forced open my clutching walls, pushing deep and filling me. He
paused for a breathless moment then pulled back, starting a forceful rhythm that matched the stamina
I’d attributed to him. I met him stroke for stroke.
He was everything I’d ever fantasized about while alone in my bed. Attentive, possessive, almost
feral… His mouth and hands were everywhere, heightening my pleasure. I clutched at him. My teeth
sank into his shoulder at one point, and I knew my nails dug into his back.
“Mark me,” he growled. “Show everyone I am yours. You are mine.” His mouth ravaged mine again,
and my walls closed around his cock, drawing a yell from him that echoed through me. He pummeled
forward, fighting the clutch of my pussy, and heightening my pleasure as I fell into climax. A moment
later, hot bursts of his release filled me, and strangely calmed me, even as tremors kept shaking
though my body.
“Mine,” he muttered as we collapsed together.
“Mmm,” I murmured in agreement, too spent to form words. In that space of time, I’d be anything he
wanted. And if he said I was his, I was.
 Chapter Nine

Hasya
I held Sutton tight in my arms the next morning, breathing in her strawberry scent and hoping she’d
have no regrets when she woke. It was weird, the happiness and contentment warring with my worry.
No matter. If she had regrets, I’d do whatever was necessary to alleviate them.
Spending time with Sutton had only proven she was the woman for me. She took joy in so many little
things and marveled at the beauty around her. Beyond that, she was so smart and clearly cared about
other people. To my eyes, she was a golden ball of peace and light.
Cheesy. I knew that. But it was true for me. Maybe, that was how it was when you found the other part
of your soul that had been absent for your entire life. It was the oddest thing, the sensation that had
washed over me the second I’d dropped into that seat beside her. I hadn’t even seen her sweet face,
didn’t even know if she was taken by some other asshole. If she had been… God, I couldn’t even
think about it. I just knew she was mine.
The sensation of completeness I felt with her waned whenever we were apart, and it was as if I
needed to get my fix. A big hit of Sutton to fill my vision, her scent flowing into my lungs, her soft
touch bringing my body alive. I wasn’t sure how I’d handle it when she went home and I still had to
tour. Just that quickly, my soul had attached, and it worried me a little.
“I can’t breathe,” Sutton whispered into my chest.
“Oh. Sorry.” I unfolded my arms, and she grumbled, burrowing closer.

“Don’t let go. Just let up a little. What were you thinking about? You got so tense.”
“Being without you. I do not like the idea.”
She sighed, her warm breath washing over my skin. “I don’t like it, either, but you have your music
and touring. I have school. Maybe.”
“Maybe?” I asked, brow furrowing. “You were planning on your masters for meteorology, yes?”
“That’s the plan. I graduated from my university a semester early and I’m slated to start across the
country for my advanced degree. And after all this time… Well, I’m not sure I want to. There are
plenty of jobs I can get, great jobs, without going on. I’ve even been offered one. I’m ready to take my
next step. So, yeah…I’m figuring things out because I don’t know what’s next.”
Was I an asshole because that made me a little happy? Probably. I should be all about her hopes and
dreams and having the brightest vocational future possible, and really…if she wasn’t tied to a
university program, we could spend more time together. It was horribly selfish, but I never claimed to
be perfect.

And I’d do anything to make her happy.

Even sit on the sidelines while she studied.
“Do you want to talk it through?” I offered. I could be a bigger person than my lizard brain urged me
to be.
“No. I just want to enjoy vacation and being with your family. And you. Being with you.”
“I hope the last part is the best part.”
“Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

I sighed, teasing her. “More secrets…”

“No, you are not a secret.”
I kissed her nose. “It is Christmas Eve. It is a very busy day here.”
Her fingers trailed over me, distracting me from the prospect of getting up—not that I was moving
away from her in any way. We were still clasped together in the center of the bed, covered by the
thick down comforter and another blanket.
“I’d rather just stay here a little longer. Do we have time? Before we have to show up at breakfast?”
“Ano. Yes.” I nodded then kissed along her shoulder and down to her collarbone. “I heard the
cathedral clock chiming six a few minutes before you woke up. Coffee and breakfast with the family
is not for an hour.”
“Hmm…however will we spend that time? I suppose we could go back to sleep.”

I rolled her under me and brushed my lips over hers. “I have some ideas.”
She moaned and arched beneath me, her knees going around my hips. “Show me.”

****

“Tell us of your plans,” my father demanded of me as we all sat around the dining table, feasting on
pastries, cheeses and eggs, as well as strong coffee. I had taken the seat beside Sutton since Ondra
hadn’t come down, claiming a headache. While I couldn’t hold Sutton’s hand, I brushed my leg and
arm against her frequently.
“She had a fight with Jakub,” Mama had told Sutton. “Perhaps you can speak with her later? Talk to
her about it?”
“Of course,” Sutton had agreed, her words emphatic. “I hope everything is alright.”

My mom had shrugged, though her face showed a deeper concern than her action implied. “They have
fought often as of late. It is…” She had looked at my father. “Neobvyklé,” she said.
“Unusual,” he supplied in English.
“Yes. Unusual,” she had agreed.

But now all eyes were on me as they waited for me to answer my father.
“The band and I are performing again this week and doing media junkets, as well.” At my father’s
furrowed brow, I translated to Czech.
“I see.” He nodded. “And? The tour is done. You can stay?”

“Papa, you know I live in New York. I will be in the studio to record our next album. I also have
invitations to play with several orchestras as a guest while the band is on break.”
Mama sighed. “Will you ever come home? Marry a nice Czech girl and settle down to give me some
grandchildren?”
This was the most difficult part of my occupation. Being away.
“I’ll come home more often,” I promised. “But I have to disappoint you. I have my eye on an
American girl, and she likes me, too.”
I squeezed Sutton’s knee, trailing my finger along the inner leg near it, hoping to make clear I meant
her.
“What!” Mama exclaimed. “Tell me!”
“I will tell you soon when there is more to tell. I promise.”

She scowled at me. “You had better.”

“I will. I hope maybe I can convince her to marry me someday.”
Sutton coughed, covering her mouth as she half-choked on the sip of coffee she’d taken.
“Sorry. This is stronger than I’m used to,” she said. She took a breath, pressing her hand to her chest.
“Really? You’re feeling that serious about…someone.”
I nodded, trying not to let all my love show on my face. Not yet in front of my parents when Sutton and
I weren’t even sure how to tell Ondra.
“Really, I really am.”
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
passed near here before when out in the woods, and
knew of many darkys who befriended them. Had a
surfeit of food. Stayed at the huts until after midnight,
and then a woman brought us to this place. To-night
we go to Jocko’s hut, across the river. A darky will
row us across the Little Ogechee to Jocco’s hut, and
then he will take us in tow. It is a rice country about
here, with canals running every way. Negroes all
tickled to death because Yankees coming. I am
feeling better than yesterday, but difficult to travel.
Tell the boys they had better leave me with the
friendly blacks and go ahead to our lines, but they
won’t. Plenty to eat and milk to drink, which is just
what I want. The whites now are all away from their
homes and most of the negroes. Imagine we can
hear the booming of cannon, but guess we are
mistaken. Dave is very entertaining and good
company. Don’t get tired of him and his talk. Both of
them are in rebel dress throughout, and can talk and
act just like rebels. Know the commanders of
different rebel regiments. They say that when out
before they on different occasions mixed with the
Southern army, without detection. Said they didn’t
wonder the widow woman knew I was a Yankee.
Ain’t up to that kind of thing.
Dec. 15.—Jocko’s hut was not across the river as I
supposed and wrote yesterday, but on the same side
we were on. At about ten o’clock last night we went
to his abiding place as directed and knocked. After a
long time an old black head was stuck out of the
window with a nightcap on. The owner of the head
didn’t know Jocko or anything about him; was short
and crusty; said: “Go way from dar!” Kept talking to
him and he scolding at being disturbed. Said he had
rheumatics and couldn’t get out to let us in. After a
long time opened the door and we set down on the
door step. Told him we were yankees and wanted
help. Was the funniest darky we have met yet. Would
give something for his picture as he was framed in
his window in the moonlight talking to us, with the
picturesque surroundings, and us yankees trying to
win him over to aid us. Finally owned up that he was
Jocko, but said he couldn’t row us across the river.
He was lame and could not walk, had no boat, and if
he had the river was so swift he couldn’t get us
across, and if it wasn’t swift, the rebels would catch
him at it and hang him. Talked a long time and with
much teasing. By degrees his scruples gave way,
one at a time. Didn’t know but he might row us
across if he only had a boat, and finally didn’t know
but he could find a boat. To get thus far into his good
graces took at least three hours. Went looking
around and found an old scow, fixed up some old
oars, and we got in; before doing so however, he had
warmed up enough to give us some boiled sweet
potatoes and cold baked fish. Rowed us way down
the river and landed us on the noted Miller plantation
and a mile in rear of the negro houses. Jocko, after
we forced our acquaintance on him with all kind of
argument, proved to be a smart able-bodied old
negro, but awful afraid of being caught helping
runaways. Would give something for his picture as
he appeared to us looking out of his cabin window.
Just an old fashioned, genuine negro, and so black
that charcoal would make a white mark on him. Took
us probably three miles from his hut, two miles of
water and one of land, and then started back home
after shaking us a dozen times by the hand, and
“God blessing us.” Said “Ole Massa Miller’s niggers
all Union niggers,” and to go up to the huts in broad
daylight and they would help us. No whites at home
on the plantation. We arrived where Jocko left us an
hour or so before daylight, and lay down to sleep
until light. I woke up after a while feeling wet, and
found the tide had risen and we were surrounded
with water; woke up the boys and scrambled out of
that in a hurry, going through two feet of water in
some places. The spot where we had laid down was
a higher piece of ground than that adjoining. Got on
to dry land and proceeded to get dry. At about ten
o’clock Dave went up to the negro huts and made
himself known, which was hard work. The negroes
are all afraid that we are rebels and trying to get
them into a scrape, but after we once get them
thoroughly satisfied that we are genuine Yanks they
are all right, and will do anything for us. The negroes
have shown us the big house, there being no whites
around, they having left to escape the coming
Yankee army. We went up into the cupola and looked
way off on the ocean, and saw our own noble
gunboats. What would we give to be aboard of them?
Their close proximity makes us discuss the feasibility
of going down the river and out to them, but the
negroes say there are chain boats across the river
farther down, and picketed. Still it makes us anxious,
our being so near, and we have decided to go down
the river to-night in a boat and see if we can’t reach
them. It is now the middle of the afternoon and we
lay off from the huts eighty rods, and the negroes are
about to bring us some dinner. During the night we
traveled over oyster beds by the acre, artificial ones,
and they cut our feet. Negroes say there are two
other runaways hid a mile off and they are going to
bring them to our abiding place. Later.—Negroes
have just fed us with corn bread and a kind of fish
about the size of sardines, boiled by the kettle full,
and they are nice. Fully as good as sardines. Think I
know now where nearly all the imported sardines
come from. Negroes catch them by the thousand, in
nets, put them in kettles, and cook them a few
minutes, when they are ready to eat. Scoop them out
of the creeks. The two other runaways are here with
us. They are out of the 3d Ohio Cavalry. Have been
out in the woods for two weeks. Escaped from
Blackshear and traveled this far. I used to know one
of them in Savannah. We do not take to them at all,
as they are not of our kind. Shall separate to-night,
they going their way and we going ours. Have
secured a dug-out boat to go down the Ogechee
River with to-night. The negroes tell us of a Mr.
Kimball, a white man, living up the country fifteen
miles, who is a Union man, and helps runaways, or
any one of Union proclivities. He lays up the river,
and our gunboats lay down the river. Both have
wonderful charms for us, and shall decide before
night which route to take. Are on rice plantation, and
a valuable one. Before the “wah” there were over
fifteen hundred negroes on this place. Cotton is also
part of the production. Have decided to go down the
river and try to reach our gunboats. It’s a very
hazardous undertaking, and I have my doubts as to
its successful termination.
Dec. 16.—Another adventure, and a red hot one.
Started down the river in our dug-out boat
somewhere near midnight. Ran down all right for an
hour, frequently seeing rebel pickets and camp fires.
Saw we were going right into the lion’s mouth, as the
farther down the more rebels. All at once our boat
gave a lurch and landed in a tree top which was
sticking out of the water, and there we were, swaying
around in the cold water in the middle or near the
middle of the Ogechee. Dave went ashore and to a
negro hut, woke up the inmates, and narrated our
troubles. A negro got up, and with another boat came
to the rescue. Were about froze with the cold and
wet. Said not more than a mile farther down we
would have run right into a chain boat, with pickets
posted on it. It really seems as if a Divine providence
were guiding us. After getting a breakfast of good
things started off toward the Big Ogechee River, and
have traveled three or four miles. Are now
encamped, or rather laying down, on a little hillock
waiting for evening, to get out of this vicinity which is
a dangerous one. In our river escapade lost many of
our things, but still hang to my coverlid and diary.
There are three or four houses in view, and
principally white residences, those of the poor white
trash order, and they are the very ones we must
avoid. Have caught cold and am fearfully out of
traveling condition, but must go it now. A mistake in
coming down the river. Am resting up, preparatory to
traveling all night up the country. No chance of
getting out by the coast. Have enough food to last all
day and night, and that is a good deal. Can’t carry
more than a day’s supply. Have now been out in the
woods, this is the fourth day, and every day has been
fresh adventures thick and fast. If I could only travel
like my comrades, would get along. Bucks praise me
up and encourage me to work away, and I do. For
breakfast had more of those imported sardines.
Storm brewing of some sort and quite chilly. Saw
rebel infantry marching along the highway not more
than eighty rods off. Hugged the ground very close.
Dogs came very near us, and if they had seen us
would have attracted the rebels’ attention. Am writing
with a pencil less than an inch long. Shall print this
diary and make my everlasting fortune, and when
wealthy will visit this country and make every negro
who has helped us millionaires. Could not move from
here half a mile by daylight without being seen, and
as a consequence we are feeling very sore on the
situation. Don’t know but I shall be so lame to-night
that I cannot walk at all, and then the boys must
leave me and go ahead for themselves. However,
they say I am worth a hundred dead men yet, and
will prod me along like a tired ox. Dave goes now
bareheaded, or not quite so bad as that, as he has a
handkerchief tied over his head. The programme
now is to go as straight to Mr. Kimball’s as we can.
He is probably twenty miles away; is a white Union
man I spoke of a day or so ago in this same diary.
Will stick to him like a brother. Can hear wagons go
along the road toward Savannah, which is only
thirteen or fourteen miles away. Later.—Most dark
enough to travel and I have straightened up and am
taking an inventory of myself. Find I can walk with the
greatest difficulty. The boys argue that after I get
warmed up I will go like a top, and we will see.
Dec. 17.—And another day of vicissitudes. We
traveled last night about four miles, piloted by a
young negro. It was a terrible walk to me; slow and
painful. Were fed, and have food for to-day. Are now
about three miles from a canal which we must cross
before another morning. Negroes say “Sherman
most here” and “Bress de Lord!” Mr. Kimball lives
nine miles away and we must reach him some way,
but it seems an impossibility for me to go so far. Are
now in a high and fine country, but too open for us.
Have to lay down all day in the bushes. David is a
thorough scout. Goes crawling around on his hands
and knees taking in his bearings. Troops are
encamped on the main road. Every cross road has
its pickets, and it is slow business to escape running
into them. Eli S. Buck has a sore throat and is
hoarse. Pretty good jaunt for him, tough as he is.
Shall have no guide to-night, as Dave thinks he can
engineer us all right in the right direction. Some
thinks he will leave us both and reach Kimball’s to-
night, and then come back and see us through.
Guess I will be on hand to go along however.
Dec. 18.—Six days of freedom and what a sight of
hardship, sweetened by kind treatment and the
satisfaction of being out from under guard. We
traveled last night some four miles and now are in a
very precarious position. When almost daylight we
came to the canal, and found cavalry pickets all
along the tow-path; walked along until we came to a
lock. A cavalryman was riding his horse up and down
by the lock. At the lock there was a smouldering fire.
It was absolutely necessary that we get across
before daylight. As the mounted picket turned his
horse’s head to go from us, Dave slid across the tow-
path and went across the timbers which formed the
lock, and by the time the picket turned around to
come back Dave was hid on the opposite shore. At
the next trip of the rebel Eli went the same as Dave.
The third one to go was myself, and I expected to get
caught, sure. Could not go as quiet as the rest, and
was slower. Thought the picket saw me when half
way across but kept right on going, and for a wonder
made it all right. Was thoroughly scared for the first
time since jumping off the train. Am very nervous. All
shook hands when the picket turned about to go
back the fourth time. Getting light in the east and we
must move on, as the country is very open. Dare not
travel over half a mile, and here we are hid almost in
a woman’s door yard, not over thirty rods from her
very door. Are in some evergreen bushes and
shrubs. It’s now most noon, and have seen a rather
elderly lady go out and in the house a number of
times. The intrepid Dave is going up to the house to
interview the lady soon. Later.—Dave crawled along
from our hiding place until he came to the open
ground, and then straightened boldly up and walked
to the house. In fifteen minutes he came back with
some bread and dried beef, and said the woman was
a Union woman and would help us. Her daughter
slept at her uncle’s a mile off last night, and expected
her back soon, and perhaps the uncle, who is a
violent Secesh, with her. Said for us to lay low.
Later.—The daughter came home on horseback
and alone. Could see the old lady telling the daughter
about us and pointing our way. About the middle of
the afternoon the old lady started out toward us.
Behind her came a young darky, and behind the
darky came another darky; then a dog, then a white
boy, then a darky, and then the daughter. Old lady
peeked in, and so did the rest except the grown-up
girl, who was too afraid. Finally came closer, and as
she got a good view of us she says: “Why, mother,
they look just like anybody else.” She had never seen
a Yankee before. Brought us some more food, and
after dark will set a table for us to come to the house
and eat. Her name is Mrs. Dickinson. They went
back to the house and we proceeded to shake hands
with one another. During the afternoon five rebel
soldiers came to the house, one at a time. It is now
most dark and we are about ready to go to the house
and eat. Mr. Kimball lives only four miles away.
Dec. 19.—We are now less than half a mile from
Mr. Kimball’s. After dark last night we went to Mrs.
Dickinson’s house and partook of a splendid supper.
I wrote a paper directed to the officer commanding
the first Yankee troops that should arrive here telling
what she had done for us runaway Yankees. She
talked a great deal, and I thought was careless
leaving the front door open. Three or four times I got
up and shut that door. We had taken off our blankets
and other wraps and left them in a sort of a kitchen,
and were talking in the best room. I heard the gate
click, and on looking out saw two rebel officers
coming to the house and not six rods off. We jumped
into the other room and out of the back door and
behind a corn house, bare headed. The officers were
asked into the front room by the daughter. They
asked who the parties were who ran out of the back
way. She said she reckoned no one. They kept at her
and jokingly intimated that some of her skulking
lovers had been to see her. She kept talking back
and finally said: “Mother, did any one just go away?”
And the old lady said: “Why, yes, brother Sam and
his ‘boy’ just went off home.” Them confounded
rebels had come to see the girl and spend the
evening, and we shivering out in the cold. Joked her
for an hour and a half about her lovers and we
hearing every word. Finally they got up and bid her
good night, saying they would send back some men
to guard the house and keep her lovers away. Just
as soon as they were down the road a ways, the
daughter came out very frightened and said for us to
hurry off, as they would send back troops to look for
us. Hurried into the house, got our things and some
dried beef, and started off toward Mr. Kimball’s
house. Reached here just before daylight and lay
down back of the house about eighty rods, in the
corner of the fence, to sleep a little before morning.
Just at break of day heard some one calling hogs.
David got up and went toward an old man whom we
knew was our friend Kimball. Came to us, and was
glad to shake hands with genuine Yankees. Said one
of his neighbors was coming over early to go with
him to hunt some hogs, and for us to go farther off
and stay until night, and he would think up during the
day what to do with us. Did not want anything to eat.
Came to this place where we now are, and feeling
that our journey was most ended. Mr. Kimball said
that Sherman was not over fifty miles off, and coming
right along twenty miles per day, and our plan was to
hide and await coming events. Mr. Kimball is an old
man, probably sixty years old, white haired and stoop
shouldered. He had five sons, all drafted into the
rebel army. All refused to serve. Two have been shot
by the rebels, one is in some prison for his Union
proclivities, and two are refugees. The old man has
been imprisoned time and again, his stock
confiscated, property destroyed, and all together had
a hard time of it. Still he is true blue, a Union man to
the back bone. Really think our troubles coming to an
end. Kimball said: “Glory to God, the old Stars and
Stripes shall float over my house in less than a
week!” It’s a noble man who will stand out through all
that he has, for his principles, when his interests are
all here. Is not only willing, but glad to help us, and
says anything he has is ours, if it will help us toward
our escape. Later.—Have been laying all day
watching Kimball’s house. Along in the morning the
neighbor spoken of came to Kimball’s, and they both
went off on horseback to shoot hogs. The swine here
roam over a large territory and become most wild,
and when they want fresh pork they have to go after
it with a gun. You may be sure the hunters did not
come near us with Mr. Kimball for a guide. A negro
boy went with them with a light wagon and mule
attached. Near noon they returned with some killed
hogs in the wagon. At three or four o’clock the old
man came down where we were “to look after his
boys,” he said. Is in the best of spirits. Says we are to
hide to-night where he tells us, and stay until our
troops reach us. That is jolly good news for me, as I
hate to travel. Said come to the house after dark and
he would have a supper prepared for us, and has just
left us. Later.—Have just eaten a splendid supper at
Kimball’s and getting ready to travel three miles to a
safe hiding place.
Dec. 20.—Well, we are just well fixed and happy.
After partaking of a royal repast last night, served in
an out-building near the main building of the Kimball
home, we were directed to this place which is on the
banks of the Big Ogechee river, in a most delightful
spot. While we were at Kimball’s he had negro
sentinels stationed at different points on the
plantation to announce the coming of any rebel
soldiers or citizens that might see fit to come near.
He gave us an axe, a quart of salt, a ham too big to
carry conveniently, and all the sweet potatoes we
could drag along; also a butcher knife. Went with us
a mile as guide and then told us so we found the
place pointed out. Also gave us some shelled corn to
bait hogs and told Dave how to make a deadfall to
catch them. We left the main road going directly West
until we came to a fence, then turned to the left and
followed the line of the fence, and when we had got
to the end of it kept straight ahead going through a
swampy low section. After a while came to higher
and dry land and to the banks of the river. Is a sort of
an island, and as I said before, a very pretty and
pleasant spot. Out in the river grows tall canebrake
which effectually hides us from any one going either
up or down the river. Tall pines are here in
abundance and nice grass plats, with as handsome
palm clusters as ever I saw. Are going to build us a
house to keep off the cold and rain. Have matches
and a rousing fire cooked our breakfast of nice ham
and sweet potatoes. We also roasted some corn and
had corn coffee. Any quantity of hogs running around
and Dave is already thinking of a trap to catch them.
It will be necessary for we are making that ham look
sick. Eat so much breakfast that we can hardly walk
and don’t know but will commit suicide by eating.
Buzzards fly around attracted by the cooking. Are as
large and look like turkeys. Our government should
give to Mr. Kimball a fortune for his patriotism and
sacrifices to the Union cause. About eight miles
above is a long bridge across the river and there it is
thought a big fight will take place when Sherman
attempts to cross, and so we will know when they
approach, as we could hear a battle that distance.
Night.—We have built the cosyest and nicest little
house to lay in. Cut poles with the axe and made a
frame, and then covered the top with palm leaves
just like shingles on a house at the North, then fixed
three sides the same way, each leaf overlapping the
other, and the fourth side open to a fire and the river.
The water is cold and clear and nice to drink; just like
spring water. Have eaten the ham half up; ditto
potatoes. The increased prosperity makes me feel
well bodily, and mentally am more so. It is still the
“Astor House Mess.” We all cook, and we all eat.
Dave prays to-night as he does every night and
morning, and I ain’t sure but all through the day. Is a
thorough Christian if ever there was one. I also wrote
a letter for Mr. Kimball to the commanding Union
officer who may first approach these parts. In it I told
how he had befriended us and others. We heard
boats going by on the river to-day. At such times all
we do is to keep still, as no one can see us. Rebels
are too busy to look for us or any one else. All they
can do now to take care of themselves. Eli is making
up our bed, getting ready to turn in. I have just
brought a tin pail of nice water and we all drink. Take
off our shoes for the first time in some days. A
beautiful night—clear and cold. And thus ends
another day, and we are in safety.
Dec. 21.—Got up bright and early. Never slept
better. Getting rested up. We talk continually. Both
Bucks are great talkers, especially David. Cooked
and ate our breakfast, and would you believe it the
ham is all gone. Incredible, the amount of food we
eat. Wonder it don’t make us all sick. Sweet potatoes
getting low. Dave fixing up his deadfall for hogs. Has
rolled some heavy logs together forty rods away from
our house, and fixed up a figure four spring trap, with
the logs for weight to hold down the animal which
may be enticed into it. Has scattered corn in and
around the trap, and we wait for developments. Hogs
are very shy of us and surroundings. Are apparently
fat and in good order. Plenty of roots and shack
which they eat, and thrive thereon. Buzzards are very
curious in regard to us. They light on the limbs in the
trees, and if their support is a dead limb it breaks and
makes a great noise in the still woods. Two or three
hundred all together make a terrible racket, and
scare us sometimes. The weather is very fine, and
this must be a healthy climate. Dave is going out to-
day to look around. As I have said before, he is a
scout and understands spying around, and won’t get
caught. If we had a fish hook and line or a net of
some sort could catch fish to eat. That would be a
grand sport as we can see nice large fish in the
water. The main road is away about one and a half
miles we think by the sound of the teams which
occasionally rumble along. Often hear shouting on
the road as if cattle were being driven along toward
Savannah. Once in a while we hear guns fired off,
but it is no doubt hogs being killed. We also hear
folks going up and down the river, but cannot see
them. After dark we have no fire as that would
expose us, it is so much plainer to be seen in the
night. The river is wide; should think a third of a mile,
as we can view it from away up the stream. The cane
that grows in the river is the same as we have for fish
poles at the North, and are shipped from the South.
Have added some repairs to the house and it is now
water tight, we think. Made a bed of soft boughs, and
with our three blankets have a good sleeping place.
Dave got a tall cane and fastened up on the house,
and for a flag fastened on a piece of black cloth—the
best we could do. That means no quarter; and it is
just about what we mean, too. Don’t believe we
would be taken very easy now. I am getting fat every
day, yet lame, and have come to the conclusion that
it will be a long time before I get over it. The cords
have contracted so in my right leg that they don’t
seem to stretch out again to their original length. That
scurvy business came very near killing me. Later.—I
also went out of our hiding place, and saw away out
in a field what I took to be a mound where sweet
potatoes were buried. Came back and got a pair of
drawers, tied the bottom of the legs together, and
sallied forth. The mound of potatoes was a good way
back from the house, although in plain sight. I
crawled up, and began digging into it with a piece of
canteen. Very soon had a hole in, and found some of
the nicest potatoes that you can imagine, of the red
variety, which I believe are the genuine Southern
yam. Filled the drawers cram full, filled my pockets
and got all I could possibly carry, then closed up the
hole and worked my way back to camp. Eli was
alone, Dave not having returned from his scouting
trip. Had a war dance around those potatoes. Believe
there is a bushel of them, and like to have killed
myself getting them here. After I got into the woods
and out of the field, straightened up and got the
drawers on my shoulders and picked the way to
head-quarters. We don’t any of us call any such thing
as that stealing. It’s one of the necessities of our lives
that we should have food, and if we have not got it,
must do the best we can. Now if we can catch a
porker will be fixed all right for some days to come.
Think it is about the time of year for butchering. We
don’t expect to be here more than two or three days
at fartherest, although I shall hate to leave this
beautiful spot, our nice house and all. Listen all the
time for the expected battle at the bridge, and at any
unusual sound of commotion in that direction we are
all excitement. Later.—Dave has returned. He went
to the main road and saw a negro. Was lucky enough
to get a Savannah paper three days old in which
there was nothing we did not know in regard to
Sherman’s coming. The negro said yankee scouts
had been seen just across the river near the bridge,
and the main army is expected every day. The rebels
will fall back across the river and contest the
crossing. Fortifications are built all along clear to
Savannah, and it may be reasonably expected that
some hard fighting will take place. Savannah is the
pride of the South and they will not easily give it up.
Dave did not tell the negro that he was a yankee, but
represented himself as a conscript hiding in the
woods to keep from fighting in the rebel army. Was
glad to see supply of potatoes and says I will do. Has
freshly baited his trap for hogs and thinks before
night we will have fresh pork to go with the potatoes.
Later.—We went around a drove of hogs and
gradually and carefully worked them up to the trap.
Pretty soon they began to pick up the corn and one
of them went under the figure four, sprung it and
down came the logs and such a squealing and
scrambling of those not caught. The axe had been