CHASE STRETCHED OUT on the faded brocade couch in Robert’s living room. Thinking about the past two weeks boggled his mind. He kept his demons at bay more often these days by pushing his muscles in the ways he hadn’t since boyhood, but he tried not to give them chances to sneak in.
Robert helped, too. He was a quick-minded, nonjudgmental companion. But it was Jill who held the key to Chase’s slow healing. No woman had ever accepted him this unquestioningly, although she knew there was plenty to question. Keeping his secret for this long curled Chase’s insides into knots of guilt that rarely left him. Only his belief that Jill would understand when he finally did explain what had happened in Memphis, kept him searching for the right time.
Robert’s tread on the stairs descending from his bedroom caused Chase to check the time. The clock read nearly nine, and he frowned. They’d expected Jill tonight by eight.
“Jill ain’t here?” Robert sat in his recliner and reached for his current book. Chase noted the Louis L’Amour Western Robert had read at least twice. The old farmer rubbed his eyes with one hand and tapped lightly on his breastbone with the other.
“Something must have come up. You all right, my friend?” Chase asked.
“Yeah, yeah. Little heartburn after dinner. Gotta go feed the horses, but I’ll do it in a minute.”
“I’ll go. You look tired.”
“What? So you can sneak out to go look for the girl? Think you two was already newlyweds.”
“I’m warning you, I’m gonna replace those Westerns with romance novels.”
“Don’t need no damn romances, got one goin’ on right in front of my twenty-twenty.”
A romance he definitely had. Chase lived in a permanent state of anticipation when Jill wasn’t around. When she was, he lived in a permanent state of war with self-control. Jill was far more to him after six weeks than a desirable woman, but lately, especially since he’d learned for certain he could lose her to Colin Pitts-Matherson, his dreams about her had lost all the sweetness they’d ever had.
Now they were urgent.
Angel popped her head up as if a squirrel had darted past her nose. Three seconds later she was whining at the door. Robert grunted.
“That’ll be the girl now. Get out of here now, you two. Quit yammerin’ about romances and go do something about it.”
The old man was sharp as a bee sting. Chase laughed and let the screen door slap behind him. He looked toward the horizon and reveled in the flat expanse of navy-blue night sky dipping to the line of silver-green alfalfa. His eye traveled over the farmyard. The pasture pond was full and its banks weed-choked, but other than that, he and Jill had made quite a few changes.
The new deck floor was finished, and a new railing started. Three old buildings were gone. The lawn, admittedly more crabgrass than bluegrass, looked neat and trimmed nonetheless, and Jill’s flowers, planted with love and optimism along the house and deck perimeters, had taken hold.
He stepped off the deck and followed Angel around the house. To his shock, he found Jill squatting in front of The Creature, her arms wrapped around the dog, her face buried in the curly hair behind Angel’s pointy, floppy ears.
“Can I be next?”
She uncurled herself and smeared away tears beneath her eyes with the back of her hand. His stomach dropped.
“What happened? Aw, Jill, what’s wrong.”
She never cried, but now she flowed into his embrace and buried her head against his chest.
“There’s nothing wrong. This is completely stupid.”
“Tell me.”
“Anita Barnes axed the idea of Jamie riding, that’s all. I don’t even know what to say. Her reasons are completely lame-assed.”
“Honey, I’m sorry.” He lifted her chin and wiped the last of her tears away with his thumb.
“The worst of it is that I care at all, that I’m foolish enough to get invested.”
“You’ll always care too much, Jill. Believe me, that’s what got me into trouble with you in the first place.”
“Great. I didn’t know you were in trouble.”
“Trust me, honey. I’m in old farms, big horses, and problem teens up to my Kentucky red neck. That’s before mentioning beautiful equestrians.”
“And I have a problem with silver-tongued drifters.”
“C’mon. Feed the horses with me and tell me more.”
The mares galloped in from the pasture at Jill’s call, and Tatters wheeled in after them as if he had ants in his little equine britches. He didn’t care all that much about grain yet, but he had his own little foal bucket to play in. Mostly he jigged and squealed for Jill’s attention, because next to his mother she was just about his favorite thing in the world.
Chase loved to watch her with him. She clearly spoke his language when convincing him his little baby halter wasn’t a torture device, or that walking with a lead rope was a cool game. She climbed into the paddock with him now and ran her hands over every inch of his leggy body. The colt stood perfectly still, as if getting a massage.
“This is what it’s about,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Learning from all creatures. Why can’t Anita Barnes see her daughter is one of those people who needs animals?”
Chase could hear her tears welling up again. He crawled over the fence railing and pried her gently from the foal, spun her to face him, and gazed into the doe brown of her eyes for only a moment before he lowered his mouth.
Right there in the pasture he let his lips roam loosely, achingly over her, and he pressed the hair back from her forehead with both hands. Their cool tongues touched and played until both grew hot. In response, she feathered her fingers across his stomach, and control edged from his grasp. When he tugged on the delicate skin of her lip eliciting a whimper, a dangerous spark seared through his belly, followed by more in rapid succession as she slid her body against his. The sparks fell onto days and days of built-up, smoldering desire and ignited the deep, unstable warmth. His physical response followed swiftly. Groaning, he cupped his hands over her ears, thumbs on her cheeks, and pushed her head away.
“Stop,” he said, his voice in shreds.
“Stop?”
He pulled her through the pasture until he pressed up against the side of the barn. The moment her body joined his he assaulted her mouth anew, and she pressed her hips intimately against the arousal he couldn’t hide, eliciting a mewl of delight from her.
Relentless now, his fingers danced to the swell of her breast, drawing approval from deep in her throat. With no finesse, he yanked the hem of her T-shirt free of her riding breeches, slipped his hand beneath the fabric, and searched out fine lace. He pushed beneath that as well to the soft side of her breast. As his thumb found its fullness, desire hardened him more, and he pushed aside the satin and took her hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
Gasping, she trailed her fingers down his cheek, across his shoulder, and to his elbow. He braced harder against the barn, and with excruciating slowness, she brushed around his hip and tried to delve between where she fit tightly against him. Thwarted, she switched directions and circled his leg to grasp the heavy muscles of his seat. He nearly sank straight into the dirt.
“Honey.” His voice barely functioned. “You’re making me crazy.”
“Good.” She kissed him again.
“Crazy people do things they regret.”
Her whispery kisses slowed. “There’d be no regrets. I’m asking for this, right out loud. I know I’m not as virtuous as you are but don’t hold that against me.”
He grasped her shoulders, unnerved by her words. “What makes you think I would ever consider myself a judge of your virtue?”
“Prove it. Don’t stop yourself on my account.”
He led her to the fence and they ducked under it. Safe from inquisitive foals, he found a grassy spot next to the barn and pulled her to straddle his lap. Her softness against his head was like putting a match to tinder, and he thrust against h
er.
“I will stop us,” he said, leaning for her mouth. “Because we can’t play with this kind of fire simply because we hurt about something else. The act of love changes everything—including futures.”
“At least you admit to the fire.”
“Oh, Lord help me, don’t ever doubt that.”
She placed her mouth carefully on his and kissed him with the most deliberate, thorough tongue dance he’d ever experienced. “We can play without making a whole bonfire,” she whispered, and stroked herself against him, arching at the top with a cry of surprise.
He groaned in surrender and dragged her hips down, rocking beneath her until they found a rhythm that made her whimper in anticipation.
“Okay, baby,” he whispered. “Make it feel good.”
She shattered around him mere minutes later, sobbing out her release and clinging with spaghetti noodle limbs. His own painful desire didn’t matter anymore as the simple magic of an old-fashioned technique overwhelmed him. He stroked her hair.
“I lied. I think that was a bonfire,” she said, shuddering and smiling.
She rose up and eased off his lap. He kissed her and she lingered, finding a spot cuddled up to his side. Surely, with a firm touch, she cupped him and stroked down his length. “Your turn,” she said into his ear, and the hot words shot straight to a spot beneath her fingers.
“Honey, you don’t—”
“Shhh. Oh yes. I absolutely do.”
She took control, finding the zipper of his jeans and rasping it down to release him. Giving up the last misgiving, he closed his eyes and sank back to let her hold him, and take him dancing on the lip of a volcano.
Chapter Eighteen
TRUST WAS A funny thing. It could be present and not present at the same time. Jill held the two-by-two railing post for Chase, smiling at the top of his head while he pounded, loving that she knew how thick his black hair was beneath her fingers. She loved how well she knew his soft Southern accent in her ear. Loved how he trusted her to touch him so intimately and explore that trust with her all week.
And yet, he remained hidden. She saw the shutters on his emotions more clearly now that they’d shared almost as much physical closeness as they could. Almost, because the trust to share himself completely was not quite there.
Still, he was her champion. He might not rave about going to Florida, but she never doubted he would build her up, remind her to trust herself, tell her how smart and talented and caring she was no matter what got her down. Like now. Helping Chase with the new porch was nearly cathartic enough to let Jill forget how Becky had taken a graceless, although not dangerous fall from Roy that morning when she’d yanked too hard on his reins and pissed him off, then proceeded let Jamie have it for “always being in the way with that stupid chair.”
Jill was running out of ideas for reaching the girl. It really was almost time to cut bait.
At the unexpected crunch of gravel beneath car tires, Angel, lying at Robert’s feet on the new porch decking, jumped up and let out a series of warning barks. Jill’s heart sank at the sight of Jim Krieger’s Lincoln Navigator rolling to a halt outside the chicken yard. They hadn’t seen him in three weeks, but Krieger emerged into the warm evening sun, bringing a chill.
“Hell’s bells,” Robert cursed. “Ain’t we got fun now?”
“Good evening, Mr. McCormick.”
“Krieger,” Robert acknowledged, without rising from his chair. “You’re still in the trespassin’ business I see.”
“Now, now, I’m here to give you an update. You’re important to us, Robert.” Krieger spoke as if dealing with an addled nursing home patient.
“I still don’t want your money, so spare the update and leave.”
Krieger spotted Jill and Chase and his eyes widened. “Ahhh. I find you here after all, Preston. You’re on my list, too. We have a little unfinished business.”
“None that I know of,” Chase replied.
Krieger’s superior smile sent annoyance oozing through Jill’s body. “The decision has been made to push ahead more quickly with the start of the project,” Krieger said. “We’re preparing a petition for the state that will allow the powers that be to declare eminent domain here. I think you need to accept reality, Robert, and take our offer before you’re forced to take the pittance the state will offer.”
“Don’t make me ask you to leave again.” Robert’s reply was almost nonchalant.
“Your stubbornness might seem admirable,” Krieger said, “but if you continue you’ll find out you were very foolish.” He stared at Chase. “Since you two are such good friends, why not talk some sense into the man?”
“He’s talking plenty of sense to me,” Chase said. “And I see they did a fine job on that truck door, so since I paid the bill weeks ago, I can’t see that we have anything else to discuss.”
“You talk pretty bold for a man with so much past.”
Jill couldn’t put a name to what she read on Chase’s face. Controlled fury? Fear?
“Oh? Why don’t you share what you think you know about my past?”
“As a matter of fact, I will. I know the Memphis PD is looking for you right now.”
Jill’s breath caught. The Memphis police? The skin around Chase’s eye tightened, and his face lost half a shade of color.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
Krieger shook his head, a smirk solidly in place. He looked toward the porch. “Oh, Robert, Robert. You’re not only foolish about money but about people, too. Watch yourself. This one isn’t what he seems.” He turned for his car. “And do let us know when you change your mind about selling. We don’t have much time.”
After Krieger drove off, Robert was the only one left in a good mood.
“Son, you’re worth a hundred shotguns!” he said gleefully. “I love how you best him.”
“Was he serious?” Jill asked, and spun Chase to face her, grasping his upper arms.
His face was such a blank mask, Jill’s heart only pounded harder. What was this man she was falling in love with hiding?
“You told me you weren’t running from the law,” Robert said. “I still believe you if you say it ain’t so.”
“It isn’t so.”
“So Krieger is making things up now?” Jill moved her hand to his face and stroked it, begging him to answer.
“I doubt he’s making it up.” Chase sighed. “I told you I worked in a bad part of Memphis. I saw things. Who knows what the police could want.” For a moment he seemed unreachable, but suddenly he softened, and to Jill’s utter relief wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll call my brother. He’ll know what’s going on. I sure don’t.”
“Really?”
Because if he was in trouble, she was in trouble.
“Really.”
She knew the wall he could erect in front of his emotions. This time it wasn’t there. She sighed. “Robert, what about eminent domain? Isn’t that serious?” she asked.
“The man is all wind, girlie. He’s played that hand before. He knows they don’t need my place for access, but he thinks I’m a fool. I’m not. I have a lawyer, too, and I’ve seen the plans for this gravel pit. If it’s the size they originally said it will be, then the only reason they could want my land is to expand. Eventually they’ll get the farm, but if I have my way, it won’t be until my name is a burr so deep in their fannies they’ll need surgery to remove it.”
“Mean old coot,” Chase said, laughing outright for the first time.
“And proud of it.”
“Stupid gravel pit,” Jill said. “Wish we could buy the farm and continue the standoff longer yet. Robert, just live another eighty years, and I’ll save the money.”
Chase waited until Jill had gone home to call Brody. She had every reason, every right, to be unnerved by Krieger’s accusation, and Chase had promised her he’d solve the mystery first thing in the morning. But he wasn’t about to wait. He’d ignored his brother’s calls unt
il now, but he had a few choice words for Broderick “Brody” Preston he wasn’t sure he could control. Jill didn’t need to hear them.
Rat his whereabouts to the police, had he? Rotten snitch. He’d probably sweet-talked Poppa into giving him Connery’s number. How else would Krieger have known?
The police had to be looking for him in regard to Tiana’s murder, but he’d already told them everything he knew. Brody had worked on Tiana after the shooting. They should be talking to him.
When he was certain Robert, too, had headed off for bed, he wandered toward the barn and punched in Brody’s number. It was close to 11p.m. in Memphis, but Chase didn’t care.
“Are you effin’ kidding me? I was starting plans for your funeral service!” Brody answered with cheerful chastisement, and his voice was as comforting as a back-slapping embrace. To his annoyance, Chase’s ire faded ever so slightly.
“Nice to hear your voice, too,” he said.
“I’m serious, where the hell have you been?”
“Winning friends and creating enemies. Same old, same old.”
“Yeah, enemies like me. What’s up with never returning phone calls?”
“I told you I wouldn’t answer until I was ready.” Chase let his aggravation swell again. “And speaking of enemies, what exactly were you thinking siccing the Memphis police on me? You gave them Connery’s phone number?”
“Whoa! What are you flappin’ your gums about? I didn’t tell them anything.”
“C’mon, somebody did. Poppa wouldn’t. You’re the only two who know where I am.”
“You live in a dream world,” Brody said. “Mama practically beat it out of Poppa.” He chuckled. “Hey, you know, I’ll bet they got to Mama. She probably told ’em to contact you and then carry on fetchin’ you home.”
“Oh, that’s terrific. Then they are after me.”
“They aren’t after you, grits-for-brains. They’ve finally got Chuckie D. and Louis Franto in custody, Louis flipped on Chuckie as the shooter, and the detective has some questions before the arraignment.”
Deep in his heart Chase had known it was something this straightforward. He’d wanted a reason not to need Brody, but he found his anger ebbing away, under the balm of his brother’s cheerful voice.
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