She stood and walked over by the window. “No. They ran away when they heard the blacksmith was coming to help.”
“How’d you get home?”
Chase felt a momentary twinge of guilt asking a question he already knew the answer to, but he had to see what she’d say about the man.
“Mr. Shepard, the blacksmith, brought me home in his buckboard.”
The thought of her being manhandled made his blood run hot. Not wanting to alarm her, he reined in his temper.
He stood, too. “Well, that’s exactly why I was worried when you took off. What would’ve happened if you’d run into these men out of town? There wouldn’t have been the blacksmith or anyone else around to stop them.” He shook his head. “I’m going to town tomorrow to buy you a horse. Leastwise you won’t have to walk anymore. Do you ride?”
“You can’t. A horse costs money, a lot of it. I can’t afford it.” Jessie emphatically planted her hands on her hips.
Now would be a good time to tell her about Nathan’s pay tucked away in his saddlebag. Perfect way to broach the subject. But in truth, he knew the minute that he did, this tenuous rapport building between them would come crashing down. No doubt, she’d think him the lowest of the low. He’d already decided he was going to buy her supplies and horse out of his pay so she could put hers away to save for the future. He wanted to do something for her and Sarah before he left, and this just felt right. With that decision firmly reached, he resolved to keep the money secret a little longer and then surprise her with it when he was leaving.
“You’ve done way too much for us already. Your duty to your friend is fulfilled. You can leave with a clear conscience!”
Her feistiness made him laugh. “Booting me out so soon? I don’t think I’m quite ready to leave…just yet. Have you fulfilled your end of the bargain?”
“What end?” There was a note of uncertainty in her voice.
“Fine time to forget.” His gaze was drawn to her eyebrows and their expressive tilt of worry.
“If I pretended to be Nathan for you, I could reap some husbandly benefits—not all of course, but some. Remember? Up until now, all I’ve gotten is shot in the head, some bruised ribs, and a heap of worry.”
Chase didn’t know why all of a sudden he felt the urge to badger Jessie. Maybe it was the sight of her and the blacksmith together.
“Now come sit next to me and tell me what kind of horse you’d like.” He smiled mischievously and took her hand.
“No!” She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.
“Good, mindful wives aren’t supposed to say no to their husbands.”
Without warning, Chase gave a swift pull, and Jessie tumbled onto the bed. She came up fighting, and it was all he could do to hold on to her.
“I thought you were nice, but I take it back. You’re not!” Jessie said in a panicked whisper. She thrashed back and forth and her elbow caught Chase in the side.
He grunted, then laughed.
“You just said what happened last night wouldn’t happen again, and now…and now you’re attacking me.”
He held both her wrists in one hand and tickled her with the other.
“Attacking you?” Chase laughed again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so good. His fingers ran down her arm and danced around her rib cage.
Jessie shrieked. She twisted from side to side, trying to escape his fingers.
“Please, oh please, stop, stop.”
He did.
As Jessie quieted, Chase gazed down into her flushed face. Her eyes were closed, and he stared at the thick lashes resting softly on her silky skin. The lone candle on the dresser flickered. Silence embraced the two, and the whole world seemed to condense into this one little room.
He was thinking about kissing her again after he’d just told her it had been a mistake. What was wrong with him anyway? Her lips looked so soft. He could tell she was waiting for him to take a taste.
What would it hurt? One night to satisfy the hunger of both of them.
Hell!
He wasn’t thinking with a clear head. He was leaving. There was no justifying taking advantage of her vulnerability. Women took these things seriously, and, knowing Jessie, she would probably be eaten alive with regret and never forgive herself. Her best interest should be his only concern. But, damn, it was hard to stop when she seemed so willing.
After a moment Jessie’s eyes opened. Her smoky gaze was racked with desire. She pulled him down into her arms and nuzzled his throat.
Her legs twined between his and she pulled him closer. Chase inhaled her sweet vanilla scent, struggling to remember why he was holding back.
“Don’t play with me, Jessie.”
“It’s all right,” she murmured. “I don’t want to stop.” She pressed her hips to his.
The whispered announcement cut through the haze in Chase’s head.
“You sure? I mean, it’s not like I’m staying or anything.”
Her eyes caressed his face tenderly. “You could if you wanted,” she breathed. Her gaze lingered on his mouth.
He tore his gaze from her face and stared at the wall. “You know it’s not in me to settle down. And even if I did try, I’d only end up hurting you, or breaking your heart.” He looked back down at her angrily. Or something much worse could happen to you, or little Sarah. “I’m just not the settling type!”
Chase saw her tremble and knew what her invitation must have cost her. He felt miserable. It was better if she found somebody else. Somebody dependable like the blacksmith, who could take care of her, give her the things she needed.
Chase pulled away.
“I understand,” she responded softly.
He couldn’t miss the hurt written all over her face.
“Sometimes things affect our lives so powerfully that we think only of the bad—I know I do. But in truth, it had to happen. I know it sounds strange. Whatever it is, there is good, too. Look for it and you may be surprised.”
His eyes narrowed as he gazed at her. He stood and straightened his shirt. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.” The words had a finality that brooked no questions. “I’ll ride into town and tell them about Nathan’s death. Pick up more supplies and buy you a side of beef that’ll last you till spring. I’ll try to find you a suitable horse, but if I can’t do that, I’ll leave you Cody.”
Chapter Seventeen
Awake at sunrise, Chase eased himself out of the rocking chair, where he’d slept all night. Jessie had tossed and turned, eventually curling into a little ball before finally falling asleep. Her mumblings had awakened him, so he pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and tucked her in. It was the least he could do for her. She seemed to be sleeping soundly now. He tiptoed out to avoid waking her.
The cabin was quiet with the young’uns still asleep. Chase lit the stove and set the pot on for coffee.
His mind was made up. He wasn’t changing it. Telling Gabe was going to be hard, though. Explaining that the last few days had all been make-believe, and now it was time for him to be heading out, would be tough. No matter how Chase circled it, Gabe was gonna think he was a coldhearted bastard.
“Mornin’,” Gabe mumbled from his bedroll. His disheveled hair shaded his eyes, and he yawned. “Didn’t hear you get up. Where’s Jessie?”
“Still sleeping.”
Chase waited as Gabe got up and slung his blanket around his shoulders, a shield from the cold. When Gabe returned from the outhouse, Chase motioned for him to have a seat at the table. He kept his voice low so he wouldn’t wake Sarah. “Got some things to explain, and I’d like to get it done before the little one wakes up.” Handing Gabe a cup of hot coffee, he drew up a chair.
Silence hung ominously in the room. By the size of the boy’s eyes, Chase knew he must be thinking he’d stepped out of line.
“Nothing’s wrong, Gabe, so don’t worry. Well, something’s wrong, but it doesn’t involve you. You’ve been doing a fine job around here.”
Chase held back a smile as he saw Gabe release the breath he’d been holding. They both took a sip from their cups, and their eyes met over the rims. Chase was first to speak.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it outright. I think you’re man enough to understand.”
He had Gabe’s full attention.
“I’m not Nathan Strong. Been pretending. To help Jessie so she’d be able to adopt Sarah.” Chase leaned back in his chair.
Color came up in Gabe’s face and his eyes narrowed.
“Nathan was working for the same spread I was. Got himself killed. I brought Jessie the news the night before you arrived.”
Gabe shot up. His chair twirled, almost falling over. With fists clenched he leaned toward Chase. “You sayin’ you and her”—he motioned with his head to the bedroom—“ain’t married?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Gabe was across the table in a heartbeat. Coffee mugs went flying, landing with a crash on the floor. Gabe had a death hold around Chase’s neck, and it was all Chase could do not to fall to the ground.
“Damn it, Gabe! Let me explain,” Chase gasped, prying the boy’s fingers from around his neck. Gabe Garrison was wiry and strong. Chase hoped he could peel the boy from his throat without using force, but it didn’t seem possible at this point.
As quick as he’d attacked, Gabe dropped his arms and turned from Chase, making for the door.
“Gabe! Hold on.” Chase lunged for him and caught his arm.
“Let go,” Gabe cried, choking on the words.
“Let me explain.” Chase held him to the spot. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
Gabe’s face glowered as he swallowed once. “Yeah? You tell me now, just what am I thinking?” The question was low, hurtful. “I know. It wasn’t you, sleeping in there with Jessie the past few nights. Right?”
The boy had him there. Things looked bad from the kid’s standpoint, and Chase didn’t have any foolproof answers.
Gabe wrenched free the moment Jessie appeared in her bedroom doorway, a startled look on her face.
“What’s going on?” she questioned, taking in the puddles of coffee on the floor, Gabe’s hard, angry expression.
Chase was taken aback. Her face was pasty white, with lines around her eyes and mouth. She slumped on the doorframe, as if needing its support.
Taking advantage of the interruption, Gabe ripped his coat from the peg and ran out the door.
“Horse pucky,” Chase uttered as the door banged closed. He’d made a mess of it now. He turned to Jessie. “You don’t look well. Are you sick?”
“I’m fine. Just need to make a trip outside.”
She didn’t look fine. Last night she hadn’t looked sick, but she’d been broody while asleep. Now she looked almost nervous, too. Chase watched as she disappeared through the door.
Five minutes…ten minutes…fifteen crept by.
Where in the hell was she? He’d have gone looking for her, but felt she needed her privacy. Women were fussy about that sort of thing.
Sarah, who’d somehow slept through all the commotion, was awake now, and hungry as a horse. Chase felt oddly helpless in the face of her need. He offered her a leathery piece of jerky from his saddlebag, but she rejected it, her face clouding with impending tears.
“Hungry,” she whined.
“I know, I know. Jessie will be right back. She’ll fix you something, all right?” As her tears began to fall, he stomped to the door. Sensibilities be danged!
At that moment, Jessie stepped in. “What’s wrong?”
Unnerved by his helplessness, he responded harshly. “Sarah’s hungry, and I couldn’t find anything she wanted.” He strode over to the child, picked her up, and faced Jessie angrily, as if waiting for an answer.
Jessie was dumbfounded. What could she tell him? That she felt terrible? That her head was squeezing her eyes out of their sockets? That her stomach, cramped and bloated, felt as if it’d been pummeled in a fistfight? It was all she could do to not shout back at him.
“Sorry,” she replied evenly, mentally counting to ten. “I just needed some morning air to clear my head. How does biscuits and gravy sound?”
Sarah stopped crying and wiggled out of Chase’s embrace. She ran up to Jessie and held out her arms. Too weary to lift her, Jessie knelt down and kissed her tear-dampened cheek.
“One…two…three.” Jessie let Sarah scoop out three heaping cups of flour from the barrel and dump them into a clay mixing bowl. She showed her how to form a small well in the center of the flour, then carefully poured some water inside. Jessie took over mixing the powdery concoction slowly at first, and then with gusto.
Chase was leaving today.
Folding the dough over, she gave it a punch. That was just fine with her. They didn’t need him. She certainly didn’t need him. Actually, she was glad he was finally going. Things around here had gotten way too complicated.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” she said over her shoulder to Chase as she stirred the gravy. “Call Gabe in from the barn.”
“He’s not in the barn. I’m not sure where he is. I told him about us this morning.”
Jessie turned. “How did he take it? You not being Nathan and all?”
“Not good.”
“Well, what did he say—exactly?” She was getting tired of having to drag every word out of him. This was important, and she wasn’t in the mood to play cat and mouse.
“Didn’t say much of anything. Just went for my throat when he found out we weren’t married.” Chase gingerly touched the red welts Gabe had left behind. “Defending your honor.”
The wooden spoon clattered to the floor as Jessie hurried to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To look for Gabe,” Jessie shot back. “I need to explain…”
“Give him some time to work it out on his own. He’s a smart kid.” Chase picked Sarah up and put her on a chair at the table. “Don’t you fall off, now,” he told Sarah softly as he pushed her up to the table. “Besides, this one’s real hungry. We’ll have another uprising on our hands if we don’t get some grub into her.”
After breakfast Jessie cleaned up the kitchen and started a pot of water boiling in the front yard for the laundry she did once a week. She put Sarah, along with some pots and a wooden spoon, under the table and told her not to come out. It was a safe place for her to play while Jessie was busy outside working.
Her lower abdomen, racked with cramps, was all she could think about. If only she could lie down on her bed and die. Since Chase was set on leaving no matter what, she wished he’d just hurry up and go.
He came outside and leaned against the porch post and watched her. Jessie pushed some towels under the bubbling water with her wooden paddle.
Why is he hanging around? she thought irritably. Without warning, she swayed to one side, dangerously close to the hot water.
Chase sprang down the steps, gathering her in his arms. Limp as a rag doll, she leaned into him, drinking in his familiar scent, longing to say so many things.
“Jessie, what’s wrong? I can tell you’re not feeling well. What is it?” Chase’s face was etched with concern.
“Just a bad stomachache. It’ll pass,” she said, making no attempt to leave his embrace.
“You’re going to lie down for a bit.” Chase stood back and looked into her face. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
He scooped her up, carried her into the cabin, and placed her on the bed.
“Nursing me has plumb wore you out. I’ll watch Sarah till you’re feeling better.”
“Chase?” Jessie asked, with eyes closed and burrowed down into the soft mattress.
“Yes?”
“You won’t leave without saying good-bye, will you?”
“Course not.”
She felt him brush a strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. “Now get some rest.”
&nb
sp; Chapter Eighteen
The wash was much harder than Chase had expected. He’d done his own laundry before, but the whole of that consisted of one or two shirts, a pair of long johns, and some socks, not much else. Washing for a family of three was quite another story.
His shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows, he plunged another pair of socks into the rinse bucket. By the time he’d finished scrubbing Jessie’s two dresses, with yards of cotton and serge, and Sarah’s two small ones, he’d worked up a sheen on his face and rings of sweat under his arms.
Gabe’s things were the last of it. He shoved them into the pot, giving them a good swish.
Sarah was happy as a tadpole. He’d brought her from under the table, where Jessie had left her, into the fresh air with him. Her job was to run to the woodpile and bring small logs whenever the fire grew low. She was to stop at the line he’d drawn in the dirt fifteen feet back. Now, she struggled with a piece of wood nearly as long as she was.
As Gabe’s clothes boiled in the soapy water, Chase rinsed Jessie’s and Sarah’s things and spread them on bushes to dry. This chore would be easier if there were a clothesline. A clothesline…
Long strides took him to the barn, where he untied his lariat from his saddle. Returning to the wash area, he strung the hard cord rope between two sturdy trees, and then reached back into the rinse bucket. He withdrew a worn chemise belonging to Jessie. She must’ve washed it and left it to soak in the rinse before he took over the job. Dipping it several times, he wrung it carefully, being cautious not to rip the threadbare garment.
Chase felt a tug on his pant leg and looked down.
“Da, more wood,” Sarah said, pointing proudly to the big log she’d finally managed to drag over to him. Accomplishment shone in her eyes. He didn’t have the heart to scold her for coming too close to the fire. “Thanks…honey. You’re sure a big help. Now stay back where I showed you.”
Sarah beamed her pleasure, then ran back to the woodpile to tackle another piece. Perhaps she was so young she wouldn’t remember the brief role he’d played in her life and would forget all about him after he left. Somehow, though, this thought didn’t make him feel any better.
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