Chapter Eleven
Chase crumbled up the paper in his fist. He tossed it into the corner, where it landed atop the sizable mound of discarded editorials.
“It’s no use,” he groaned. He laid the pen aside and closed his eyes. His head was aching again, the ringing in his ears had become nearly constant, and he was frustrated beyond human endurance. He had finally managed the press, the typesetting and the proofing roller, but he could not write an intelligent editorial.
If he had once possessed the skill, it had left him with his memory. Or perhaps it was his desire that had disappeared in the face of the mayor’s request. Whatever the reason, he could not find the words to parrot the businessman’s opinions of neutrality for profit. Chase looked out at the deserted dark street and sighed.
Mainfield was deep in slumber. He had stayed at the paper for two reasons. He hoped to avoid his beautiful wife, and he was determined to compose an editorial that would keep his secret safe and pacify the mayor and his friends at least for a while, until he could remember.
But the more he tried, the more futile it seemed. There was just no way for him to straddle the fence on the slavery issue, the violence surrounding their community, and write something that would keep his grandfather’s mysterious secret safe. He didn’t remember exactly why he rode off to war, but he knew deep in his gut that slavery and secession went against his grain. He could not lie about that even to save his own skin, it seemed. But time was running out. He could feel it, sense it.
Chase had a sickening suspicion Hezikiah’s accident had been engineered. Just how far would the paunchy politician go to see his self-serving ideas printed in the Gazette each week? Linese and his grandfather could be in great danger if he didn’t find a way to save them.
The hollow sound of running footsteps echoed on the sidewalk. Chase blew out the solitary lamp on the cluttered desk. He flattened his body against the wall beside the window facing the street. He leaned over, far enough to peer out into the night.
A tall shadow fell across the walk, illuminated by the street lamps. Chase held his breath waiting to see who else was up at this late hour. He half expected to see the mayor outside with some of his friends. Perhaps their patience had run out and they had decided to confront Chase, to give him some physical persuasion along with the blackmail.
Much to Chase’s surprise, it was Ira Goten who stole across the street. He paused by the telegraph office and shot a nervous look over his shoulder. Chase wondered what the man was hiding from. A moment later, two forms materialized from the shadows. It didn’t take Chase long to figure out these were the runaway slaves Kerney had been so upset about. He saw Ira direct them into the darkness at the edge of town.
Chills crept up Chase’s spine along with a new question.
If Ira Goten was such a strong Southern sympathizer, what was he doing helping runaway slaves? And did this have anything to do with whatever thing had happened two years ago? Was this somehow connected to the secret that compelled Ira to keep the Colt and a bag of gold for him? Chase turned the questions over in his mind a million times, but no answers, and no more memories came to fill the void.
*
Chase was already up and partially dressed before Linese stirred. He had spent the night in the rocking chair again, trying to ignore the soft fullness of her mouth and the heat of his own desire.
She opened her eyes and smiled as soon as she saw him. It had the effect of holding gunpowder too near an open flame. Something hot and profound exploded inside his chest. The terrible heat spread throughout his body and set off a hundred tiny explosions in its wake.
“Good morning.” Linese stretched her arms up above her head.
Chase was mesmerized by the creamy swell of her breasts appearing at the top edge of the sheet.
“’Morning.” His voice was tight and dry. He felt scorched by the sight of her, dry to the marrow of his bones.
He wanted to devour her.
She smiled again and licked her lips.
He gulped hard. If she knew what that innocent gesture was doing to him, she would not lie there and stare at him like a well-fed house tabby without a care in the world.
“You’re up early, Chase. Didn’t you sleep well?” Her voice had the intoxicating texture of well-aged whiskey. “I must’ve fallen asleep before you came home last night.”
Hot shivers shot up his back. He caught a glint of playful teasing in her seductive blue eyes. Something about her appeared less innocent in a way that was almost carnal. Could it be that Linese knew what she was doing? Surely she would not taunt him with her body.
Not Linese. She was too pure, too innocent, and yet there was a certain knowledge in her eyes that he didn’t recall being there before. It puzzled and intrigued him.
Chase was loath to believe she would use her abundant feminine attributes on him, but now with her blue eyes winking in the morning sun, he began to think perhaps she was toying with him. The thought annoyed him slightly, coming as it was on the heels of his stifled desire and sexual frustration.
A voice in his head told him to get up and leave. But there came another voice behind it, stronger and more forceful. It said to face her down, cure her of the silly notion once and for all and be done with this game before she got hurt by it.
He decided to give her a tiny, completely innocent taste of her own medicine. Then when he had shocked her with his lust, he would be spared at least a small measure of this torment. She might even decide to move back to the sanctuary of the adjoining room.
Chase rose from the chair and started to unbutton the shirt he had just finished buttoning. He stepped closer to the bed and looked at her with a new scrutiny.
“I did have a restless night, but I think I know the cause of my distress.” His eyes fastened on her face, and he gauged her reaction, waiting for her confidence to slip.
The smile did slowly disappear from Linese’s soft, full mouth. Her eyes followed the slow, deliberate movement of his fingers and he saw her swallow hard.
He cringed inwardly at what he was doing, but it was for her own good. Any minute now she would stop him. Any moment now she would blush bright red, snatch up her gown, and cover herself in ladylike embarrassment.
A part of him prayed she would not.
He slid his hands to his waist and unbuttoned both sides of his breeches. He allowed the front to fall open and he slipped his hand into the sides of the fabric, as if to shove them down.
Chase was certain she would turn away when she realized he intended to bare himself to her full view. Even among married couples, this kind of behavior in broad daylight was shocking to consider. Chase knew Linese was too well brought up to allow such a crude display without objecting loudly.
She didn’t turn away. She didn’t blush. She threw back the sheet and rose up on her knees, bare, buck naked and more beautiful in the morning light than his wicked mind had envisioned she ever would be.
It jolted Chase down to the deepest core. He was lost. He was powerless to do anything less than reach out to her and step into her waiting arms.
When he pulled her nude body up against him and felt the warmth of her still drowsy flesh against his form, a deep, abiding hunger began to gnaw at his insides. A throaty moan bubbled up from somewhere inside his chest.
He tipped up her chin and covered her lips with his own. She opened for him and the invitation was accepted. There was no part of Chase’s primal male instinct that Linese left untouched. Her tongue darted into his mouth and teased him. Hands that were soft and sure touched and caressed him in ways he had never dreamed of.
She was Eve, she was a temptress, she was innocence, and yet she was not. She was everything— and more.
He tumbled her onto the bed and lay over her, savoring the way her body melded to his, marveling in the way it felt to be on top of her. He kissed her again and drank in the sweet wine of her lips. She was rejuvenation to his desiccated spirit and he had to have more.
Chase slid his lips down her jawbone and neck. Tiny nibbles brought a shudder through her when he reached her breasts. They were taut and full. He cupped them in his hands and gloried in their beauty.
“Oh, Chase, it has been so long.” Linese’s voice was husky with passion.
He could not remember lying with any other woman, could not remember this woman, yet some part of him led the way down the dim and forgotten path toward the passion and satisfaction he knew awaited them both at the end.
Chase shoved his breeches down to his ankles and kicked them out of the way while he shifted himself against her. The abrasive hair at the juncture of her thighs rubbing against his flesh nearly drove him wild. She gyrated her body against him with abandon.
The last of his frayed control snapped.
He was going to take her. He was going to drive himself into her willing body and savor what he knew they both wanted. Damn the consequences, he could not go on like this.
He raised up and looked at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips pink and moist from his kisses. He was going to take what she offered and forget all the reasons why he wasn’t supposed to touch her.
She opened her eyes and looked at him. Trust, faith and all the good emotions of her love for him shone within her eyes. The pure, selfless sentiment condemned him for a bounder—cursed him as an animal who would seek his pleasure in her flesh when he could give her nothing in return. Chase died a little inside those blue depths.
“Linese,” he groaned. “I can’t.” He rolled off her supple body and snatched up his clothes.
He tried to avoid looking at Linese, but he couldn’t avoid seeing his own accusing reflection in the mirror before he walked out of the bedroom with his trousers in his hand.
Linese watched Chase stalk from the room through a haze of unquenched yearning. One hot tear slid down her cheek. For a moment she nearly despaired. Then she swiped at her damp cheek and brought her chin up a bit higher.
“He wants me, I’m sure he wants me. Why did he stop?” she whispered aloud. “Soon, Chase Cordell. Soon you won’t be able to resist me.”
The trip into Mainfield was made in uncompromising silence. Chase gripped the reins with white-knuckled fierceness. His lips were a thin taut line and his eyes were hard and relentless as granite.
Linese studied him from beneath her lowered lashes. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was angry, or if Melissa was right about what a woman could do to a man, and the effect it had upon their moods when they tried to fight their physical needs.
He did look as if he were sitting on a powder keg that might explode any minute. She prayed her plan was working, prayed that Melissa was right.
Chase chewed a hole in the side of his jaw. He felt like a tough, old rooster in the stewing pot. He was tortured over what he wanted to share with Linese, and the lie that kept him from her. This morning he had come dangerously close to making love to her. The thought sent a sobering chill through him.
What could he have been thinking of?
He carried on a silent argument with himself the entire trip into town. When they rounded the corner, Chase was surprised to see Goten’s Livery was closed. The door was latched and nobody seemed to be about. The memory of Ira creeping across the street, with the runaway slaves in his wake, made Chase’s belly clench. He hoped that the fool had not been caught.
Linese saw Chase’s eyebrows slam together in a straight black slash. His eyes were as hard and remote as iron. A terrible feeling of doom swept over Linese. For a moment she saw something like concern wash over Chase’s lean features, but it quickly disappeared and he turned to her with a bland expression in place.
“We’ll leave the horse. I’ll come and check on him later, Ira is bound to be back presently.” His words were short and clipped. She was acutely aware that he helped her down without ever looking at her. Could it be she had gone too far? Had her actions disgusted and appalled him?
“Major Cordell?” A male voice called out and wrenched Linese’s thoughts away.
She turned around and saw Sheriff Rancy Thompson striding down the sidewalk toward her and Chase.
“Yes?” Chase’s voice was taut and flat, almost guarded. He closed his fists stiffly at his sides as if he were bracing himself for bad news. It occurred to her that he knew something, feared something, but she could not imagine what.
“I wanted to warn you and Mrs. Cordell, Major. There’s been some trouble last night. Those runaway slaves are still on the loose. Most of the businessmen in Mainfield are staying home with their families. I advise you to do the same, sir. There is no telling whether they might still be about. I suggest you get back to Cordellane and guard your property.”
“Slaves? Runaways?” A hot, hard lump formed in Lin-ese’s throat. The war was crashing over them like a great destructive wave, sweeping away her fragile security and hope.
“Yes, ma’am. There’s been several men injured over in Denton County.”
Chase thought about Ira Goten again. Where was he now? Was he home like most of the townspeople, or was he off doing something else?
“What happened, Sheriff?”
Rancy grimaced. “Someone tried to stop them and got his head smashed for his trouble. Just to be on the safe side, I suggest you leave the Gazette closed for a day or two and go on home.”
Chase sighed in strained relief and the irony of the situation almost made him smile. This sad calamity bought him a few more days of peace, a few days before he had to write the editorial.
“Whatever you say, Sheriff.” He unconsciously placed his hand in the small of Linese’s back to escort her back to the buggy. He could avoid the Gazette for a few days, but how was he going to avoid Linese if he was at Cordellane with her? Maybe he should leave and go somewhere else.
“Do you think we’ll be safe?” Linese’s words interrupted Chase’s worry. Distress was written across her pretty face. How could he even think of leaving her alone if there was any possibility of danger?
“Linese, one thing I can promise you—I’ll do whatever I have to, to keep you and Grandpa safe. Always. You can count on that.”
Linese was in his arms before he had time to react. He felt her breasts rub against his chest through the layers of their clothing. His aching heart thudded painfully inside his rib cage while he fought a silent battle between desire, passion and his flagging willpower. Without conscious effort his own hands wrapped around her tiny waist, as if they belonged there, as if they had a right to be there.
“Oh, Chase, you are the most wonderful man….”
Chase felt the noose of hypocrisy tighten around his neck. He couldn’t let her go on like this. He unlaced her fingers from behind his neck and held her away from him, even though it cost him dearly to do so.
“Linese, let’s go home.”
Linese looked up at Chase’s stern face. The muscle in his lean jaw was working spasmodically. Anxiety crept over her, but she forced herself to nod in agreement. She held her head high while she walked beside him back to the buggy. She couldn’t become fainthearted now. She had to believe that Melissa was right, and keep doing what the young woman had told her to do. Their future together depended upon it. They were in front of Goten’s Livery when the mayor appeared from a nearby alley.
“Chase, we have to talk—now.”
Linese felt tension telegraph its way through Chase’s fingers and into her back. “Chase?” She detected something sinister in the mayor’s face.
“Get in the buggy, Linese. I’ll be right there.” Chase turned and followed Mayor Kerney to the side of the stable. The mayor hitched up his leg and leaned against the building. His round face was lost in the shadows cast by the overhanging eaves. She could neither hear him nor see the expression on his face.
“What is it now?” Chase growled. It was almost impossible to be civil to the man who held his past over his head.
“I, that is, we have been patient, Chase. We kept the old Captain off the gallows two years ago, and
for that, we expect something in return. When you decided to run off and join the fighting, you must’ve thought that would be the end of our bargain. It’s not. When do you intend, to start printing the editorials we want?”
Chase followed the tangled conversation as well as he could. New information settled in his brain. So, he had made a devil’s bargain to keep his grandfather from hanging before he left.
But why? His grandfather didn’t seem capable of doing anything that would earn him a hemp necklace. Chase grappled with his lost memory, praying he could find some spark of recollection about what his grandfather had done.
“Chase? Are you listening? When you provided the alibi for your grandfather, we let it be. The investigation was stopped. We never looked any further when you told us you were with the old man, whether we believed it or not. If I don’t see something in the Gazette this week, I’ll see to it that the investigation is reopened. I’d hate to think what the law would say about you lying to protect him.”
Chase swallowed his anger and choked back the urge to smash his fist into the man’s face. “I have to take Linese home. I won’t have her in danger,” he said truthfully.
“Fine, Chase, but you remember what I said.” The mayor leaned away from the stable. “Your grandfather’s alibi is you, and we both know you lied. You couldn’t have been with him at Cordellane like you said. I’d hate to see an old ranger brought to such shame.”
Chase watched the pudgy man turn and walk away. He didn’t have any idea what his grandfather had done—but he was willing to do whatever was necessary to keep him and Linese safe from Mayor Kerney and the pack of coyotes the tubby politician called his friends.
Chapter Twelve
Chase slammed the library door shut behind him so hard the portraits on the wall shook. He lit a lamp and slumped into a chair. He couldn’t keep this up. He had to remember.
With a sigh of frustration, he began to pick his way back through the old issues of the Gazette.
Linda Castle Page 13