by Juanita Kees
He hugged Mason closer as his brother drank, their heads close together. His own pain no longer sliced the way his brother’s did. And the only thing that had changed for him was the arrival of a girl in town with no last name. He could almost hear the whisper of his mother’s approval in the wind which made him wonder if he’d had more to drink than just a few sips. But no, the peace prevailed. If only it could touch Mason too. Perhaps his brother wasn’t ready for it yet.
Mason drained the thermos and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. They sat a while longer in silence before Marty said a prayer and they snuffed out the candles. The bite in the cold night air returned.
“Come on, boys. Let’s go home.” Marty’s voice echoed in the silence.
Chase and Carter stood, each taking an arm to help Mason to his feet. His brother had never been a big drinker, even less so since the accident. The whiskey would hit him hard and fast, aided by the dizzying cold that would meet them as they left the protection of the trees that surrounded the cemetery. In heavy silence, they descended the hill.
*
Charlie blew the feathery strands of her bangs away from her face and tossed her sketch pad onto the sofa. She hadn’t been able to settle since the door had closed behind Chase. Whatever state he returned home in, he deserved a friend. Especially after all he’d done for her and Zoe.
Unsettled, she crossed to the window to look out across the quiet ranch. The guests had retired to their cabins or heated tents. The low lights that dotted pathways and communal areas had been dimmed to a soft glow, and the first drops of rain kissed the glass in front of her face. A swirl of wind whipped up the needles shed by the larch trees that lined the west end of the property. Canada had opened its windows early this year to send arctic blasts Montana’s way. She hoped the men wouldn’t be out there much longer.
Charlie looked to the right up the gentle slope she’d watched Chase and his family take over an hour ago. Four tall figures, one only slightly hunched, made their way back down the slope, heads bent against the sting of the cold raindrops. She recognized Marty’s rounder shape next to Carter. Chase and Mason walked side by side, arms around each other’s shoulders. Who was carrying whom, she wondered.
As they drew closer, she realized Chase’s steps were steady while Mason’s dragged. She could almost feel the pain that shimmered around them. Mason, for all his blustery ways, seemed to be taking things harder than all of them. Charlie’s thoughts drifted back to the pickup truck hidden out of sight at the very back of Calhoun Customs’ showroom, draped in a cover to hide it from the world.
Charlie shivered and drew the long sleeves of her sweater down over her hands, clutching the edges in her fists before crossing her arms. Even though she wasn’t close to her family in the way the Calhouns were, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose one of them or how she’d feel about it.
An idea flitted through her mind, taking shape, growing, building, excitement fizzing until she turned from the window and picked up her sketch pad. She’d known from the shape and size that under that cover was either an F250 or perhaps a Chevy Silverado. Her money was on the Silverado given the number of Chevys she’d counted in their fleet of pickups. A big canvas to work with.
Charlie flicked over the page she’d been working on to a fresh one and began to sketch the outlines, the picture forming in her mind as her pencil flew over the page. Blue flames on a black background, a gray skull in a brown cowboy hat emerging from checkered flags. The same theme would continue around the sides. Two skulls in a race, one ahead of the other, blue flames flaring out behind them. Colors ranging from light blue to navy until they merged with black. Even as she drew, her fingers itched to pick up the spray gun and make her design come to life on the pickup.
Would Chase come home tonight, or would he stay with Mason? The cabin felt empty and quiet without him. Her hand stilled on the sketch. She couldn’t let herself get too used to having him around. He would be so easy to fall in love with. And falling in love with him would be a dangerous thing to do when she had no idea how long she could stay. She’d made a mistake once in her life and couldn’t afford another. Not that she considered Zoe a mistake, but the relationship with her baby’s father had been born out of rebellion rather than affection.
The cabin door opened, letting in a blast of cold air and the sound of raindrops falling heavily on the porch roof. Chase stepped inside, closed the door and dropped his boots on the mat before shrugging off his thick coat. He hung it on the peg by the door and blew on his hands before rubbing them together.
“You’re still awake.”
“I made a thermos of cocoa in case you needed something to warm you up.”
He walked across the floor of the cabin, steady on his feet with no sign at all that he’d drunk too much. “Thanks.”
Charlie moved her feet as he flopped down onto the sofa beside her, resting his head against the back of the sofa. With his eyes closed, she studied his face. Impossibly long, golden lashes brushed his skin, flushed with color as the heat of the cabin seeped in to warm him. That beautiful, kissable mouth drawn tight against the pain bottled up inside him. Her heart cried out to comfort him, to take him in her arms and soothe away the memories that drew his brow into a frown.
His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head toward her. Firelight flickered over his features, making him impossibly attractive in the glow. His eyes, as blue as the color she’d chosen in her mind for the design, searched hers. He seemed to hesitate, as if weighing up his words before he let them pass his lips. He didn’t need to say them. She knew instinctively what he needed.
Closing the sketch pad, she dropped it on the floor along with her pencil. Then she held open her arms to him. Chase didn’t hesitate. He stretched out beside her on the big, marshmallow cushions of the sofa, his head against her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him and held him. Silence filled the cabin. Charlie stroked his hair and held him close, the rise and fall of his chest erratic against her side, the weight of his arm over her stomach as he held her right back. She had no idea how to fix this broken man, but she could give him friendship and comfort.
His fingers stroked her hip through the warm flannel of her pajama bottoms. “I didn’t get drunk.”
“Is that a first?”
“Yes.”
One word that said so much. Her heart ached for him. “That’s good. It means you’re healing.”
“It’s taken a long time.”
“Some things take longer than others.”
She continued to play with the short soft cut of the hair around his ear, her fingers brushing over the shell-shaped curve. She’d soothed Zoe this way so many times, but with Chase it felt nothing close to motherly.
He turned his face into her neck and tightened his hold, his breath warm on her skin, his lips cool as they touched the pulse that began to race there. She should stop him now, while she still had the strength to. He was hurting, and she knew better than anyone that being taken advantage of when a heart was broken never worked out well. But, darn it, he felt so good next to her, his body warm against hers, his lips soft against her skin in contrast to the scrape of his beard.
“Charlie?”
Her name whispered across her ear, as erotic as if his hands had touched her bare skin. She shivered against the flash of need that ripped through her. “Yes?”
“Stay with me tonight?” The lips that whispered the words trailed along her jaw, moved across the skin of her throat, delivering soft butterfly kisses wherever they touched.
Charlie swallowed and squeezed her eyes closed. If she stayed by his side, there’d be no doubting where this would lead, and it could jeopardize her journey to independence if it didn’t work out. “I can’t.” Even though she wanted to.
He tugged her down gently until they were level. Vivid blue eyes, filled with sadness, searched her face for a moment before his head descended and his lips found hers. His kiss, soft and caring, had her me
lting into him with all the force of tender need. A light brush of the lips that searched while he sought permission to deepen it.
She reached up to touch his face, angled her body to align with his, and opened her mouth to his kiss. One kiss. What harm could it do?
His hand moved over her back, down across her hip, up over her arm to her shoulder. His lips moved in a sultry dance with hers, taking only as much as she’d give. And she wanted to give him more. A slight shift and she was in his arms, kissing him back, pressing into him with an urgency she’d never felt with anyone else, all the reasons she shouldn’t be here with him this way fleeing from the heat of his touch. They were doing this for all the wrong reasons, yet it felt right. How could it be?
“Charlie.” His breath shuddered out against her mouth as he shifted to move under her.
She fit into all his hard places as if her body was designed to do so. Every ridge, every curve melding with his, as if apart they were only pieces of the whole, but together they were a perfectly matched design.
His arms tightened around her even as his kiss softened, the heat seeping from it, leaving it warm and tender. He drew his mouth from hers, tucked her head into his neck, stroked her hair the way she had his, a lifetime and a kiss ago. Under her, his body was rigid, his desire evident, but he’d stopped. He needed comfort, not sex. She needed security not another one-night stand.
“I should go.” She should retreat to the safety of her bedroom where her sleeping baby would remind her of the situation she was in, where the magic of Chase Calhoun couldn’t reach in and compromise her plans for her future.
“I know.” His actions belied his words as he dragged the throw blanket down off the back of the sofa and draped it over them. “Let me hold you for a while longer. You’re warm and real, Charlie. And I need real. Just for a while.”
Perhaps that was what she needed too. Any other man would have pushed on, pursued until she gave in. But not Chase. She snuggled into him, her arms relaxing to either side of him onto the sofa cushions as he rubbed circles on her back with the palm of his big, beautiful hands. Just for a while.
Chapter Eight
Chase woke to the soft glow of a lamp, the sound of rain on the cabin roof, and empty arms. He sat up to rub at the stiffness in his neck from sleeping with his head on the arm of the sofa. He missed the warmth and comfort of Charlie’s curves against him. Somehow, she’d sneaked passed all his defenses.
She’d slotted right in, tackling tasks in the garage without being asked, helping when his dad’s hands became unsteady or froze on the task, assisting Mason in between air brushing her design. As if she were born to it. A thought niggled at the back of his mind. Charlie was no stranger around cars. And then there was the fact that she no longer felt like a stranger.
The soft shuffle of feet made him look toward the kitchen. Charlie had Zoe up over her shoulder, soothing her with a gentle hand. His heart warmed. Whatever had brought her to his doorstep, no matter what she was running away from, he couldn’t dispute the fact he was attracted to her. For the first time in forever, he’d come home from the grave sites and not felt the weight of guilt on his shoulders. Sadness, regret—yes. But not the all-consuming pain that had eaten at him in the past. If only Mason could find that same peace.
“You’re awake.” Her words were soft in the quiet cabin.
“Yeah. Everything okay with Zoe?” He stood and padded over to the kitchen.
“She’s a little snuffly and warm, but her temperature isn’t too high.”
Chase rubbed a hand over Zoe’s downy head. “She could be starting to teethe.”
“That’s what the book said too.” She cuddled her baby tighter, two blonde heads close together.
A frown formed on his brow. Where were the baby’s grandparents? Where was Charlie’s mom? Surely she had family somewhere to support her? She shouldn’t be needing to consult reference books for answers. He couldn’t help her if he didn’t know what it was she was running from. Chase leaned back against the kitchen counter and folded his arms.
“Charlie?”
She looked up at him over Zoe’s head. “Yeah?”
“Honey, I know you’re in some kind of trouble. Do you think you could trust me enough to help you?”
“It’s not trouble on my tail, it’s a journey to find the real me. The person I want to be, not the girl my family expects me to be. If I don’t succeed, I’ll always be under my father’s thumb. But that’s not to say he won’t make trouble trying to stop me.” Eyes as green as jade held his. “I can’t thank you enough for how much you’ve done for me already.”
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you want to. Dad is very pleased with your work.”
Her gaze darted away. “I’d like that so much, but it’s complicated.”
“Only if you let it be.”
“I’m scared, Chase. If I tell you the truth, you may not want me here at all.”
“Have you committed a crime?” He couldn’t imagine her doing something illegal.
She frowned. “I did a lot of irrational things out of anger that skirted the edges of the law.”
“Since we’re all awake, why not tell me what it is you think you’ve done wrong?”
Charlie shifted the baby onto her hip with a sigh. “I’m the rebel in the family.”
“Not a crime the last time I checked. Every family has one. Grace is ours, but we still love her.” That brought a smile to her face that made him want to touch her lips and trace the curve of her mouth.
“When you’re a part of my family, there is no room for rebellion. You simply never cross the line my father draws. I crossed it many times.” Sadness stole the smile from her eyes. She hugged her baby so close that Zoe uttered a muffled protest against her shoulder. “And now he wants to bring me back in line.”
“You’re a grown woman. Surely you can make your own choices?” He had no idea who her father was, but if he ever met him, Chase could think of a few things to say to the man.
She sighed. “I’ve made some very poor choices in life. Some I’m not proud of and wish I could undo. The only choice I’m sure was the right one, is the choice I made to keep Zoe.”
“Anyone can make a mistake, Charlie.” He reached out to put a hand on her arm and draw her closer.
“But mine have the potential to harm people, and that includes my daughter.”
“Then tell me, so we can work something out to fix it.”
“I wasn’t a nice person, Chase. It took falling pregnant with Zoe to make me realize that.” She laughed, a bitter sound that tugged at his heart. “I was jealous of my brother’s success and popularity, of him being allowed to follow his choice of career while I was designated to the background, forced to give up my dreams so I could ‘support’ my brother. My father is big on family support, but not in the same way yours is.”
“What do you mean?” He folded his arms again because touching her when she appeared so vulnerable made him want to hold her again. He didn’t think she was ready for that.
“Your father and brothers are warm with a real bond between you. My family is run more like a business corporation. We run to deadlines with every step carefully plotted and planned for maximum media effect. Affection is saved for when there is a media presence making it a necessary requirement to present ourselves as a normal, supportive family unit.”
“Sounds awful.” Chase couldn’t imagine being part of a family like that.
Mason might be a pain in the ass at times, Carter could be as stubborn as his black stallion, and the girls had been challenging during their teenage years, but he wouldn’t change a thing when the moment they came home, the family would be whole again. Sure, there’d be arguments, but they’d be followed by hugs and forgiveness before everyone moved on from it.
“It is. To my parents, their marriage is a business partnership. My father is the celebrity CEO while my mother is the face of his charity dinners and social engagements. They’re so cold an
d polite toward each other, it surprises me that they managed to procreate.”
The bitter regret in her voice had him hauling her and Zoe into his arms, a complete package he had no will to resist. “If that didn’t sound so awful and cold, I’d think you were making a joke, Charlie.” He pressed a kiss to the softness of her hair then leaned back to take their weight against him, arms around her loosely, giving her the option to stay or go. He wanted her to stay. Badly.
“It’s no joke. I rebelled against everything they stood for. I wanted to feel emotion, feel what it was like to be loved, appreciated, to be my own person rather than live in my brother’s shadow. I did things to get that attention that I’m not proud of, but I won’t ever regret that I gained Zoe out of that, even though there is a very real chance I could still lose her if my father continues to pursue the path of adoption.”
Chase frowned and tipped her face, so he could read her expressions. “I’ve seen you with Zoe, honey. There’s no doubt you love that baby. Is that why you’re hiding from him? Because he wants to have the baby adopted? Why?”
Her gaze searched his as she weighed up thoughts and words in her mind. He could see her thinking, hesitating. Could read the doubt in her eyes. It took ages for her to answer as a myriad of emotions flitted over her face.
He’d almost given up on an answer when she said, “Because I’ve tarnished the family name by my actions and now I’ve gone against his orders. I set out to prove to myself that I wasn’t a rebellious brat, that I could be responsible and take ownership of my life and my baby. That I could change. It may not be enough. He’s a powerful man with strong, influential connections and if he wants something done his way, he gets it.”
Chase lifted his hands to her shoulders and set her back a little. “Just who are you, Charlie?”
She chewed her lip before dipping her head and staring at his chest, avoiding eye contact. He could feel the tension in her shoulders, the fear that shivered through her and realized she was putting everything on the line.