by Paty Jager
The conversation and the world dissolved. Clay wrapped his arms around Rachel, drawing her body against his and savoring the feel of her soft breasts pressed against his chest. He hardened at the contact. She continued to entice him with her sensuous mouth. He needed to touch her soft skin. Trailing his hand up her back, he massaged her neck and traced his fingers around to the front. He slid his fingertips lightly over the satin texture and dipped under the neckline into the warmth between her breasts. She moaned and broke off the kiss, shuddering in his arms.
“It’s still daylight. You all need to go inside.”
Jasper’s gruff voice shook Clay’s haze of desire as soundly as if the man had rang a church bell beside him.
Rachel straightened, pulling away. “You’re right, Mr. Smith.”
Clay kept his arm around Rachel. What they’d done wasn’t wrong, just in the wrong place.
“I got caught up in something. And shouldn’t have.” Clay stood and drew Rachel to her feet. “Jasper, we need you to take us to the train station in the morning. Doctor Tarkiel has a trunk and valise that you’ll need to load at six-thirty?” he questioned Rachel.
“Yes, that would be fine. I’ll have them sitting in the hall outside the infirmary.” Her steady voice and arm looped in his settled the nerves he’d been fighting over taking her away from everything she knew. Even though he assured her she could come back any time, he hoped she loved Sumpter, his family, and him, enough to stay.
“I’s thought you wasn’t gonna leave until next month?” Jasper’s accusing tone didn’t surprise Clay.
“There’s been a change of plans. I’ll send the money for you and Donny to come to Sumpter. Plan on heading out on the original date.” Clay took a step forward, his hand extended. “Nothing has changed in regard to our business.”
Jasper took his hand and held tight. “This have anythin’ to do with her pa bargin’ into you all’s room last night?”
Rachel gasped. “You didn’t tell me Father was here. What did he do and say?”
Clay’s gut clenched. He hadn’t planned to tell her about her father’s nocturnal visit. No sense in setting her more against the judge.
He jerked his hand out of Jasper’s grasp and frowned at the man.
“He came by looking for you.”
Her intake of breath told him more than any words she could’ve uttered. “He thought I was in your bed?” Her high pitch mimicked Celeste’s irritating tone.
“He asked me if I knew where you were.” Clay didn’t want to rile her anymore. No telling what she might do, like dash off to give her father a dressing down.
“How dare you cover for him? He wouldn’t barge into your room looking for me unless he planned to catch us together.” The crunch of gravel fading and returning proved she paced. Her agitation whistled on the air with every breath she took.
She stopped. “What did he hope to prove by catching us? Did he think I’d stoop so low as to jump in your bed to spite him?”
Clay held his facial muscles in check.
She stopped in front of him.
He couldn’t see her staring, but his face heated, and he knew she was.
“You aren’t going to tell me are you?” She sucked in air, and her small hand grasped his. “Did he threaten you again?”
“No, he seemed appeased when I told him you were sleeping in the school.” He ran a palm up her arm and cupped the side of her face. “Go inside, pack, and go to sleep early. We’ll be headed out of here in the morning and no one can do anything about it. As you’ve said, you’re a grown woman and can make up your own mind.”
Her soft, warm lips touched his palm, igniting a fire. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Heat seeped into his palm and radiated up his arm. Her retreating steps crackled the gravel and set his already tightly strung body to humming.
“You all better watch out if’n the judge don’t like you messin’ with his girl.”
Jasper’s voice yanked him away from the carnal thoughts bumping around in his head. “He can’t do anything. She’s a woman and a professional. No law that I know of says she can’t travel where and with whom she chooses.” Clay walked in the direction of the cottage.
Jasper’s heavy steps followed. “Some daddies don’t care how old their girls be, they still don’t like ’em bein’ dallied with.”
“I’m not dallying with Dr. Tarkiel.” He stopped. “I thought you were my friend?”
“I is, and I’m jus’ sayin’ travelin’ with her and not marryin’ her it looks like dallyin’.”
“She’s willing to wait until we arrive in Sumpter to decide if she wants to be tied to me.”
Clay stomped after the man. What did he care what Jasper, a handyman, or anyone else thought? Only Rachel and he mattered.
Damn!Why had she suggested marriage?
He wasn’t willing to bind her to him yet. She could change her mind about being tethered to a blind man after they traveled together.
For all he knew she’d get tired of his need for assistance and once they landed in Baker City, take the next train back here. He wasn’t avoiding marriage to sully her reputation.
He wouldn’t marry her until after the trip to spare her from a bondage she could grow to despise.
Clay stepped to the door of his room. “Wake me at five.”
Jasper grunted and his door closed with a thud.
If they had enough time in Portland after getting money at a bank, he’d purchase a ring. That’s the strongest commitment he could make until she was certain.
Chapter 19
A hand grasped Clay’s shoulder and shook roughly.
“Wake up.”
Jasper’s deep voice ricocheted in Clay’s head.
“I just went to sleep.” He shoved the covers down and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
“Then you’s been up all night packin’. It’s five. I’m goin’ for Dr. Tarkiel’s things. I’ll come back for you when I’s loaded ’em.”
Clay waved the man away and scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed a shave. He might be blind, but he wasn’t going to have people think Rachel traveled with him out of pity. His shaving soap, strap, and razor were laid out on the bureau.
He found the pitcher, poured water, and lathered up the shave soap. The one good thing about being blind, he could shave anywhere. No need for a mirror. A chuckle warmed his throat. Happiness swelled in his chest. Happiness was something he never thought would find him after the accident. Now, he had something to look forward to besides hopefully one day regaining his sight—Rachel. This trip would be a test for both of them. To see how well he could function without his brothers’ support and to find out if Rachel really had feelings for him. He had to know, and she had to discover if her feelings were due to her desire to help others and pity for him, or if she really loved him.
Clay picked up the razor and scraped at the whiskers. He’d learned the curves and planes of his face by feel. Running fingers over his skin, he found spots he missed. He scraped up the misses and washed.
He pulled on the britches he’d hung over the end of the bed, a clean white shirt, and his suit jacket. Sitting on the chair, he laced his boots.
“She’s waitin’ in the buggy, you ’bout done?”
Jasper’s jovial tone tipped Clay’s lips into a smile. “You saying I take longer to dress than a woman?” Clay dropped his shave gear into the valise and buckled it shut. “Did I get all my things?”
The scrape of wood on wood signaled Jasper checked through the bureau. “I’s don’t see nothin’ in the drawers or hangin’ on the wall.”
“Then I’m packed. Let’s not keep Doctor Tarkiel waiting.” Clay picked up his valise and strode for the door.
Jasper fell into step beside him as they rounded the side of the building.
“Tell Donny I didn’t have time to say good-bye. He knew I was leaving and shouldn’t be too upset. I also told him you’d bring him out with you.”
&
nbsp; Harnesses jingled and a horse snorted. The valise disappeared from his hand.
“How are you this morning, Clay?”
Rachel’s cheerful voice set his heart thumping in his chest. He stretched a welcoming smile from ear to ear.
“Excited. I’m heading home with a beautiful escort.” Clay found the side of the buggy and felt his way to the door. He climbed up. A tug on his sleeve plopped him down on the seat. Citrus invaded his senses.
The vehicle lurched forward. The crackle of gravel under the wheels filled the air around them with a lulling cadence.
He reached over and found her hand. “Are you truly happy to travel with me?”
He’d worried about it all night. Was he pushing her into something she didn’t really want? Was she doing this only to irritate her father?
“I want to be where you are. You give me strength and friendship.”
Her soft words hummed in his chest like a shot of good whiskey. “That’s what I needed to know. Did you leave a note for your parents and Mr. Griffin?”
“Yes. Though, I doubt my words will sway any of them to think well of me.” Her deep sigh tightened his gut. “I’ve decided the only people whose feelings matter are you and me.”
Clay grasped her chin and kissed her lips. “I’ve come to the same conclusion.”
Traffic sounds grew, along with shouts and the hiss of steam engines.
“I’ll drop you’s as close to the boardin’ dock as I can,” Jasper’s voice hollered above the chaos.
“My word, there are a lot of people boarding this morning.”
The surprise in Rachel’s voice piqued Clay’s curiosity. “Isn’t it always busy when a train is boarding?”
“The last time we traveled to Portland, I don’t remember this many people bustling about. There must be something going on.” Her arm brushed against him, her body shifted at his side.
“Oh! It looks like there is some kind of a rally taking place. They have streamers on one of the cars.”
Her body stiffened, and her hand clamped onto his arm. “Father is here. They have a podium set up, and he’s standing to the side. How will we board without him seeing us?”
Resentment spiraled through Clay. “I thought you were an independent woman who wanted to go with me?”
“I-I am. I just—”
“If it’s true, then we board the train, and if your father challenges, we tell him the truth. You wish to travel with me to my home.” Clay stepped out of the buggy and held up his hand waiting for her. She clutched his fingers in a vise-like grip as she alighted from the vehicle.
“Here’s your bags.” Jasper put a bag in each of Clay’s hands. “I’ll follow with the trunk.”
Rachel’s small hand curved around his left elbow, and they proceeded through the crowd to the baggage car. A squeeze on his arm stopped Clay.
“Can I see your tickets?” a voice in front of them asked. Rachel’s arm slipped out of his. “Goin’ to Portland. Set the bags and trunk here. I’ll get ’em loaded.”
Clay set the bags down, and Rachel slid her arm back through his.
“May we board the train, now?” Rachel asked.
“You’re gonna miss all the hoopla if ya do.” The man laughed.
“We would rather get seated.”
“Then suit yourself. Just go on down to the passenger car and find a seat. The conductor’ll come along and take your ticket.”
Clay nodded, and Rachel led him to the right. A hand grasped his shoulder stopping their progress.
“I’ll jus’ say bye here,” Jasper said.
Clay stuck out his hand. “You’re a good friend. I’ll see you in a month in Sumpter.” They shook.
“Mr. Smith, I look forward to seeing you again.”
Rachel’s sweet parting warmed Clay. She, too, had found a friend in the handyman.
“I’s lookin’ forward to it, ma’am.”
Rachel resumed walking, and Clay fell into step beside her. Her arm tightened about his elbow and a sharp intake of air whistled at his shoulder. They’d been spotted by someone she knew.
“Your father?” he asked quietly.
“Worse. William.”
The dread in her voice brought out his protective instincts. He squared his shoulders and prepared for whatever would come.
“Rachel, I can’t believe my eyes, you with an escort to two political events in one week. You must be coming out from hiding.”
Contempt rippled in the male voice, rankling Clay’s already rising ire.
“We aren’t here for the rally. We’re boarding the train. If you don’t mind, we’d like to take our seats.” Clay took a step forward, drawing Rachel with him.
“Does her father know she’s leaving town with you?” The man’s comment hovered behind them and above the clamor on the station platform.
Clay pivoted slowly. “I don’t believe that’s your business.”
“Looking out for Rachel is my business.” William’s voice drew closer.
“When you broke off the betrothal you lost that privilege.” Clay leaned forward, his fisted hands rising from his side. How dare this man who threw Rachel away like fool’s gold now claim she was his business? His lip curled in distaste. “She’s a grown woman. One who knows her own mind.”
Clay turned to Rachel. “Where’s our passenger car?” He strode away from the irritating man.
“Thank you,” she whispered and squeezed his arm against her side.
“For what?” He flexed his fingers. He’d wanted a roaring good fight, but he guessed it wouldn’t happen today. Ever since meeting the man, he’d been itching to pop him in the nose.
“For standing up for me and telling him I know what I’m doing.”
“You don’t have to thank me for telling the truth. I’ll always be here for you.” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“Oh dear. Father straight ahead.”
Her harsh whisper riled him. The man shouldn’t instill fear in his daughter.
“Rachel—” Judge Tarkiel said, and her grip tightened on Clay’s arm. “I didn’t know you planned to attend the rally.”
“Judge Tarkiel.” Clay held out his hand. He didn’t expect a firm handshake and wasn’t sure how to proceed when the judge not only shook his hand, but clasped his arm in the process.
The man drew away. Clay pondered the cordial meeting until Rachel’s fingers reluctantly let loose of his arm. Where was she going and why?
“Father.”
“What are you doing with this man?”
The judge’s whisper hissed not far from Clay’s ear as the man’s shoulder bumped his. The judge must have embraced his daughter. His friendly handshake only served as a political ruse.
Clay bristled at being used. “We didn’t know there was a rally. We’re actually boarding the train.” He raised his voice making sure anyone standing nearby on the platform would hear his declaration.
Rachel grabbed onto his arm, running her hand down and lacing their fingers. “Father, I’m escorting Clay back to his family. If I like things there, you will receive a wedding invitation.”
“You’re doing no such thing!” Judge Tarkiel bellowed.
Footsteps and voices circled. Chaos clamored around them. Clay clutched Rachel’s hand tighter. They couldn’t be separated. She needed his strength and he needed her eyes. The press of bodies forced him to pull Rachel closer.
“What’s happening?” he whispered in her ear.
“My father’s friends are gathering around, forming a wall.”
“Does it look like I’ll need to fight our way through?”
Rachel stared at Clay. He’d take on this mob to give her the freedom she craved. She kissed his cheek and took a step toward her father, keeping hold of Clay’s hand.
“Father and anyone else here who seems to think my business is theirs. Mr. Halsey and I have tickets to Portland and we plan to be on the train.”
She faced her father. His face h
ad reddened since their first encounter. The anger in his usually loving eyes hurt, but she didn’t let it stop what she had to say.
“I have wanted only two things since returning to Salem—to practice medicine, real medicine, and to be treated as an equal. Mr. Halsey has offered me both.”
She tucked her hand through Clay’s arm and drew him forward, peering at the men until they parted, allowing her and Clay to pass.
“What about your mother?” her father called.
“I left a note at the school.” She grasped the handle on the side of the passenger car.
“There are three steps up,” she warned Clay and climbed aboard the car with the help of the conductor. When Clay stood on the platform, she twined her fingers with his. They walked down the aisle between the wooden bench seats. She picked a shiny, slick well-used seat away from the platform and slid in.
Clay moved in beside her and sat. “You were wonderful.” He placed a tender kiss on her cheek.
“Let’s hope my note and explanation will appease my mother.” She settled into the seat and scanned the people climbing on board the passenger car.
“If it doesn’t, we’ll handle whatever they try.”
She smiled at his confidence in their bond. However, her father hadn’t got where he was by giving up easily.
“Heavens! He doesn’t know when to quit. My father… He’s stomping up the aisle toward us.”
“Rachel, child, what are you thinking?” Her father loomed over them, glaring at Clay.
Clay’s body tensed and rose off the seat. Rachel held him down with their joined hands.
“That’s the problem, Father, you think of me as a child. I want to be treated as an adult. For heaven’s sake, I’m twenty-six years old. Stop treating me like I’m twelve.”
“But these actions remind me of an impetuous child.” He crossed his arms, stood in the aisle, and glared at her, not allowing anyone to pass.
“What I’m doing isn’t impetuous. I’ve thought it out and wish to travel with Clay.” She leaned forward. “Please, go back to the rally and let us continue in peace. I’ll send a letter when I reach Sumpter.”