Mountain Jewel

by Tracey Lyons

  Inhaling deeply, he thought about the past two weeks. Arriving in New York City, he’d learned from Radley that the garnets were arriving every four weeks in crates marked “dynamite.” The last crate had been discovered on one of the railroad cars picked up in Albany. Under a routine inspection, several sticks of the dynamite were found to be suspicious.

  Radley gave Chase additional information and then sent him back here to finish the job. He’d arrived three days ago, and had been lying in wait on the outskirts of camp.

  It appeared Hannah had been keeping herself busy doing some investigating of her own. She, too, had discovered that Amos and Hank were in this together. He should have known she’d never be satisfied until she learned the truth.

  He shook his head. Never in his wildest imaginings would he have thought she’d have ended up snooping around at the McCleary mine, let alone sneaking about Amos’s cabin…by herself…in the dark!

  He refused to let his thoughts wander to what might have happened if Amos had been the one to find her outside the foreman’s cabin.

  That was the least of his worries now, though. Hannah had seen him holding the precious garnets in his hand. He knew without a doubt she’d surmised incorrectly. He urged the horse along the trail; he had to catch up to her and tell her the truth. Surely she would believe him.

  He was counting on Hannah to believe him.

  “Aw, shit! There isn’t any way she’s going to want to listen to what I have to say,” he said into the still night. The horse tensed beneath him. “What’s the matter, boy?” The hairs on the back of Chase’s neck rose up. He sat tall in the saddle, his senses keen. Something was definitely wrong. Again the horse shied. The beast came to a complete halt, nervously pawing at the damp earth beneath his hooves.

  Then Chase smelled it. Smoke. Not yet a heavy odor, the scent was carried on the breeze. At first he thought perhaps someone had made camp nearby, but in a few moments it became evident that it was not a few logs burning on a campfire he smelled.

  He struggled to move the horse forward into the haze. They broke through into the clearing that lay between the McCleary and Jackson properties. The sight that greeted him made his blood run cold. The sky before him was filled with an orange glow.

  “Yah! Yah!” He shouted at the horse as he whipped the loose reins from side to side, forcing the stallion to gallop across the glade.

  Thick clods of dirt flew out from behind the horse’s hooves. Chase felt as if the very life was being pounded from him as he raced through the night. Within minutes he reached the edge of the Jackson homestead. Already he could see the flames as they licked the sky. The acrid smell of the charred wood stung his nostrils. He held his sleeve against his nose and mouth, barely managing to keep the heavy smoke from choking him.

  With the horse fighting him every step of the way, Chase finally had to let the animal go. The horse ran off into the woods, the reins dragging behind. Chase ran the rest of the way, uncertain until he reached the edge of the yard what was burning, the house or the barn.

  The moon was now high above what was once the peak of the barn’s roof. Burning cinders and black smoke blocked out the moon’s glow. Panic filled him! He couldn’t see anyone moving around. The heat from the flames was so intense it felt as if it were singeing his face and the skin on his hands. Even his clothing was hot.

  Black smoke billowed up from the center of the barn as the flames ignited the hay. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the stinging smoke from his eyes. Lifting his arms high, he shielded his face from the heat. He tried to move closer to the building, but the heat and flames drove him back, forcing him to skirt around the edge of the yard.

  A thick gray cloud of smoke rolled out of the burning barn, covering everything in its path. It was impossible to see what was in front of him. Chase looked around wildly.

  Where was Hannah?

  He shouted her name into the night. “Hannah!” Again he called out for her. God, where was she?

  He ran toward the house. The first person he saw was Hannah’s grandmother. Mrs. Jackson sat on the front porch step, her hands pressed against her nose and mouth. Her shoulders heaved up and down as spasms of coughing racked her body.

  By the time Chase managed to reach her he was in a near panic. He hadn’t seen Hannah or her grandfather. He reached out and laid a hand on Mrs. Jackson’s shoulder.

  She turned toward him. Her bloodshot eyes barely registered recognition. “Hannah and Matthew…they’re in the barn!”

  “Quickly! Run and get me a sheet or a blanket!” She hurried into the house, then came back with a blanket in her hands.

  Taking it from her, Chase ran to the water pump in the side yard and doused the blanket. Throwing the sodden cloth over his head and shoulders, he ran toward the barn. A wall of flame greeted him as he made his way to what were once the double barn doors.

  Just as he was about to dive through the flames and smoke, two figures emerged from out of the chaos. Matthew was being led from the barn by Hannah. He ran to them, grabbing Matthew’s arm and throwing it over his own shoulder. Relieved of her burden, Hannah staggered along beside them to the safety of the house.

  Dropping to her knees at the bottom of the porch steps, Hannah clutched her stomach, coughing and spitting onto the ground. When the spasm finally passed, she looked up at her grandfather. “Why? Why, did you go into the barn?” She swiped the back of her hand across her smoke-stained face.

  “I thought…you were in there…” He clung to the porch railing.

  “No.” Hannah shook her head frantically from side-to-side, sobbing, “No. I saw the fire as I came over the rise.”

  “I thought I heard you ride…in. I went…to look for you.” The effort of talking quickly used up the last of his strength. Chase turned from Hannah and led Matthew into the house.

  “But it wasn’t me,” Hannah’s voice implored them as she stood to follow them into the house.

  Just as they stepped across the threshold a loud whoosh sounded as another wall succumbed to the flames and caved in. Cinders and sparks shot up into the sky, lighting the night. Hannah gripped the railing with both hands and then turned an accusing stare toward him. He couldn’t think of what to say to her. Not now.

  The next half hour was a blur. Hannah and Mrs. Jackson, with his help, managed to get Matthew upstairs to bed. Mrs. Jackson sent him outside for several buckets full of water while the two women tended to Matthew. Having removed her husband’s clothing, she indicated that Chase should remove the smoldering heap from the floor and toss it outside.

  Hannah remained aloof to his presence. Except for that one time on the porch, she hadn’t even so much as glanced at him. Mrs. Jackson laid her head upon Matthew’s heaving chest, listening to his lungs. “It doesn’t sound all that bad. Although I dare say he must have gotten a lungful of smoke!”

  “Clara…don’t talk about me…as…if I’m not here.” Matthew sputtered and coughed the words out. He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but fell back against the feather mattress.

  “Here, Matthew. Allow me.” Chase moved from where he stood just inside the bedroom to assist him.

  Hannah averted her eyes from his gaze while he propped Matthew up against the pillows.

  “Hannah, you run along and clean up.”

  “I’ll go with her. That’s if you don’t need anything else?” he asked, already halfway to the door.

  “No, no. We’ll be just fine.” Clara wiped a tear from her eye as she turned to gaze lovingly at her husband, caught in the grip of another spasm of coughing.

  By the time Chase caught up with Hannah, she was standing at the water pump, her hands poised on the handle. She was very still, her frame silhouetted by the light emanating from the smoldering barn.

  He wanted so desperately to reach out and touch her, longed to pull her close to him and tell her everything would be well again. He wanted to give her comfort—he needed the comfort of her body next to his. Although they
were separated by mere inches, he dared not touch her.

  “Hannah?” He clenched and unclenched his fists, keeping them at his sides, waiting for her to respond to him.

  She responded all right, but not at all in the way he expected! Chase’s head snapped back as Hannah’s open palm connected with the side of his face.

  His hand snaked out and grabbed hold of her delicate wrist. Still reeling from her action, Chase rubbed his free hand over the imprint left by her palm.

  He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had hit him! He managed to say through clenched teeth, “I guess I deserved that.”

  “Oh, you deserve that and so much more!” She flinched as his grip tightened around her wrist.

  He loosened his hold a bit. “I would like to explain.”

  Her sapphire eyes were ablaze with anger as she shouted at him. “I don’t want to hear any of your explanations!” She began to struggle against his hold, twisting her arm to get away from him.

  “Stop it, Hannah,” he commanded, fearful that she might harm herself. He didn’t let his grip on her wrist go, instead he gave her arm a quick tug, causing her body to fall against his.

  Her heart beat erratically against his chest, and he could see the pulse in her neck throbbing. Her breath came in short, angry gasps. The pulse in her wrist beat wildly against the pressure of his fingertips.

  “I saw you!”

  In the light of the moon he could see that the beautiful skin of her face had been reddened by the fire. Still holding her wrist, he reached out with his other hand to touch her cheek. She pulled back from him, batting his hand away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”

  “Please, please. Let me explain what you saw!” The pain he saw marked on her face was almost too much to bear. He closed his eyes, summoning the courage and strength to finally tell her the truth.

  In that brief moment her pain became his. He opened his eyes and saw the tears running from her eyes, coursing down her flawless face.

  “I can’t believe that I was fool enough to let myself become involved with a criminal.” She pulled back a little more from him. “Hell, I made love to a criminal. A criminal who never once said he loved me,” she whispered.

  “Would it have made a difference to you, Hannah, if I’d said I loved you?” He sucked in his breath, waiting for her to answer because it did matter to him if those words—and all the feeling associated with those words—meant something to her.

  “Telling me that you love me would only make your betrayal worse.”

  He released Hannah’s hand and watched as she rubbed the place where he’d held her wrist. Oh, how he wanted to tell her of his feelings for her! In his heart he knew it would be a long time before she would believe in his love. But he had to at least try; after all, he had nothing else to lose. She already thought the very worst of him.

  “I’m not who you think I am, Hannah.”

  “That’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me in a long time, isn’t it, Chase?” Taking several steps backwards, she held her chin high in defiance, waiting for his response.

  Chase took a tentative step toward the woman he loved. “I work for the government. I’m an agent for the United States Customs Service.”

  She continued to back away.

  Still advancing toward her, he said, “I love you, Hannah Jackson.”

  The words slipped into the night.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hannah wrapped her arms about herself in an attempt to still the tremors that rippled through her. His words fell around her like burning embers, singeing her soul. He loved her. He wasn’t a criminal, but an agent for the government. How could any of this be true? She wanted to run to him—to run from him, but she couldn’t summon the strength to do either.

  Suddenly she found herself in the safety of his arms. He’d closed the gap between them in two easy strides.

  “I love you, Hannah,” he whispered against her ear.

  A sob rose in her throat, and she swayed against him, unable to bring herself to tell him the same thing. The shock caused by the events of this horrible night caught up with her, rendering her speechless.

  “Let’s go back into the house.”

  She allowed him to lead her to the stairs. She was grateful for his support, for as they rounded the corner of the porch, the sight of the crumpled barn almost brought her to her knees. The barn’s only remaining wall stood with its beams a skeleton against the night sky. Tendrils of smoke rose up from the rubble, creating a cloud of their own.

  Gathering her in his arms, Chase soothed her. “It’s going to be all right. I promise you, Hannah, I will make everything all right.”

  Together they turned from the sight and made their way into the house. She didn’t question him as he went with her into her bedroom. She was too drained of emotion and strength to ask him to leave. Once she was seated on the edge of the one chair in her room, she realized she didn’t want him to leave.

  He knelt in front of her. She’d never seen a man look so anguished. He gathered her hands in his and bowed his head, his forehead resting on their joined hands. “My dear, sweet Hannah, what have I done to you and your family?”

  “You’ve protected us.”

  Slowly he brought his head up and met her gaze. His mouth turned down at the corners. “I don’t think I’ve done a very good job of it.”

  She didn’t feel like arguing the point with him. “I wish you could have told me from the beginning who you were.”

  He reached up and wiped a stray tear from under the corner of her eye. “There’s so much I have to tell you.”

  Hannah wanted to gather him against her breast and tell him that everything was going to be all right, just as he’d said, but she couldn’t do it. She pulled her hands from his as fatigue swept over her. As she brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, their gazes locked and she found herself lost in the pools of his gray eyes. There, at last, she saw his regret, and his sorrow over what had happened. There, too, she saw his fatigue. “Tomorrow will be soon enough for us to talk.”

  Together they rose and went to her bed. Hannah sat and pulled her boots off, too tired to care about her soot-stained clothing ruining the bed linens.

  “I’ll sleep in the chair.” He brushed his lips across her forehead.

  She reached for him. “Don’t leave me.” Hannah lay back against the soft pillow. Her fingers gripped his upper arms as she pulled Chase with her.

  He resisted the motion. “Let me take my boots off first.”

  Within minutes he joined her on the bed and turned so that she lay cradled in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. Slowly he ran his hands along her spine, gently massaging her tired muscles.

  Hannah knew that she should be angry with him and perhaps by morning’s light she would be, but for now she just wanted to feel him next to her. Laying her hand across his chest, she felt the steady beat of his heart. The heat from his body surrounded her in a comforting warmth. His breathing began to slow and became more even as he finally relaxed.

  Hannah wasn’t certain after all that had happened that either one of them would find sleep this night. He continued to run his fingers up and down her spine. She moaned and turned her body to his, snuggling closer. The pressure exerted by his fingertips deepened. She sighed.

  As soon as Hannah’s breathing deepened into that of slumber, Chase stopped rubbing her back. One hand rested lightly on her hip, while the other was buried in the silken strands of her hair. Considering all that had happened in the past eight hours, he knew what a fortunate man he was to be lying next to the woman he loved.

  A floorboard overhead creaked. He looked up and knew that he should be down on his knees thanking God that no one in the Jackson family was seriously harmed. A breeze blew the acrid smell of the smoldering barn into the room. He turned and looked out the open window, tempted to shut it. Too bone weary to do much about it, he stayed where he was.

  The fire had just
about burned itself out. He could see the pile of glowing embers, almost all that remained of the destruction. Dawn would be soon enough to worry about the cleanup. The best thing to do now would be to let the fire just go on burning itself out. His head ached. Physically and emotionally drained, he closed his eyes.

  He reached out and wiped away a hot tear that had trickled out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t remember ever crying before. Chase knew just how close he had come to losing the only person who mattered. He loved Hannah, with all his heart and soul. If he hadn’t realized that two weeks ago, before he’d left, he was certain of that love now.

  An eerie silence filled the house. Breathing deeply, he let the last remnants of energy flow from him.

  The next time he opened his eyes it was to the pink light of dawn. He rubbed a hand wearily over his two-day growth of beard, taking a moment to remember where he was. He was soon reminded when Hannah stirred, her soft body curled closer to him. It would be so easy to wrap himself in her warmth, but he knew that would be impossible.

  “Chase?” She blinked in surprise, sleep still clouding her sapphire eyes.

  “Good morning.” He brushed a kiss lightly across her forehead.

  Placing her palm on the side on his cheek, she nudged his mouth to hers. Her lips were warm and tender against his, her caress welcoming. He didn’t deserve this from her and wondered that she could show him any affection at all.

  “Last night wasn’t some horrible dream that I had, was it?”

  “No.” He pushed himself away from her and sat on the edge of the bed.

  She hugged her knees to her chest. “I can’t bring myself to go and look outside.”

  “Hiding from this mess won’t make it go away.” He shifted so that he could look at her face.

  “I know. I just need a minute to clean up and then I’ll go out and see what needs to be done.”

  “That’s my girl, always facing life head-on.”

  He found his boots poking out from under the foot of the bed, grabbed them and tugged them on. He felt her gaze upon his back and turned to look over his shoulder at her. “I have to continue with my investigation.”