The dog just looked at her, eyebrows and ears twitching as Chase chuckled and dropped his hat on the table. He pulled out a chair as Kathryne let herself into the cottage. “Do you need help?”
“No, I’ll be right out.”
A few moments later, Kathryne slid a serving tray in front of him. “Nice view. You can see the whole town from here,” he commented but his eyes weren’t on the view—they were on her face as she removed the coffee pot, cups, plates and silverware from the tray and placed them on the table. Proud of her accomplishment in actually baking a cake from a recipe and not burning it, though it did list to the side, she put the confection on the table last.
Sarge dropped the bone in Chase’s lap and let out a muffled woof. His tail fanned the air, the expression on his furry face comical, clearly an invitation to play.
“He wants you to throw it for him,” Kathryne said as she poured coffee into cups and handed him one.
He removed the bone from his lap and dropped it to the floor. “Go get me a stick,” he said and laughed as Sarge darted off the porch in search of the requested item, nearly knocking Kathryne over in his enthusiasm.
With the reflexes of a snake ready to strike, Chase jumped from his seat and wrapped his arms around her to keep her from falling. The heat of his body so close to hers, the power and strength of his embrace, the scent of soap and leather filling her brain, caused a quiver of longing to surge through her. His mouth was so close, his lips so tempting…for a moment, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t form a coherent thought. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, wanted to taste him again. She caught the expression on his face, the warm glow in his eyes and knew, without a doubt, her growing attraction toward him wasn’t one sided. He felt the same toward her, but it didn’t matter what either of them felt—she’d signed a contract, promising to obey the rules of her employment and he…he wasn’t exactly welcome in this town.
“Thank you.” She sucked in her breath and struggled to maintain her composure as he released her. She sank into a chair and shivered against the cool autumn air without his heat to keep her warm. An awkward, uncomfortable silence stretched out between them as Chase took his seat once more. Kathryne said the first thing to pop into her head to cover her embarrassment. “That dog! He’s the most amazing animal. Smart. Affectionate. A wonderful companion, but he has a bad habit of trying to trip me or knock me down.”
Chase said nothing, though a blush stained his cheeks. And he wouldn’t look at her. His gaze focused on the dog trotting up the walkway, a thick stick in his mouth. He took a sip of coffee and sighed. He took another sip then sank his fork into the cake and took a bite. “Mmmm.”
Sarge dropped the stick on the floor beside him, tail fanning the air, his big body tense, anxious for a game of fetch. Without a second thought, Chase picked up the piece of wood and threw it past the picket fence, past the little bridge spanning the stream. It landed in the schoolyard. The dog bounded off the porch in pursuit.
He finally glanced at her as he wiped his hands on a napkin. Kathryne’s heart thundered. His expression held so many emotions, so many feelings he tried to hide. Yes, she detected longing and desire in the softness of his eyes. And loneliness. Such loneliness, it made her heart hurt. He opened his mouth then closed it. Kathryne wondered what he was about to say.
His words weren’t what she expected when he finally spoke. “I heard you had an interesting conversation with Edna.” He shoveled another forkful of cake into his mouth and swallowed. “Are you trying to get yourself in trouble, Katie?”
Kathryne jerked. The coffee in her cup sloshed against the rim. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His eyes narrowed and his expression changed. The longing and desire she swore she’d seen in his eyes disappeared, as did the loneliness, replaced with weariness and trepidation. “Yes, you do. You were asking her about Sheriff Townsend and his deputies, asking about the murders.” He let out a long sigh and reached out to grab her hand, his thumb lightly caressing her knuckles. “She’s concerned about you. So am I.”
“She has no reason to worry about me, Chase, and neither do you.”
“Katie.” Her name slipped from his lips, not as an endearment, but a warning. “You know as well as I do what happens to people in this town when they ask too many questions. I can’t…there are some things…”
He didn’t finish his sentence. Perhaps, he hesitated because he couldn’t find the right words. Or maybe because what he had to say wasn’t the most pleasant. Kathryne pulled her hand out of his grasp as she studied his face. She sensed, rather than saw, there was more he had to tell her, wanted to tell her. A full confession from Chase Hunter? Did she really want to know about his past? Did she want all her illusions that he was a good man shattered?
No, she didn’t want to know. Whatever had happened in his past should stay there. Certain he wasn’t the same man he was a year ago, or even a month ago, she shook her head and blurted, “Don’t tell me.”
“Tell you what? Tell you to stop asking questions? I know how well you respond to a direct order so it would be a waste of my breath. All I’m asking…”
She wasn’t listening, wasn’t paying the least bit attention. She couldn’t. The feeling she’d grown accustomed to, the feeling that eyes were boring into her, grew. Kathryne sat up straighter and scanned the horizon but saw nothing except Sarge, the stick in his mouth, trotting up the walkway.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“We’re being watched,” she whispered. “Can you feel it?”
Chase quieted and scanned the horizon much as she had done. “Yes.” A tight answer, one that didn’t invite conversation. His look didn’t invite conversation either. His eyes narrowed even more and his lips pressed into a thin line beneath his carefully trimmed mustache and goatee. Kathryne saw the tension filling him as every muscle, every sinew tightened in his body. “Go inside, Katie, and lock the doors.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
She shook her head. “I’m not going to let them scare me. Or intimate me.” Brave words and she meant every one.
“Please. For once, just do as I ask,” he said as he rose from his chair, grabbed her arm, and escorted her into the house.
“But…”
“No buts, Katie. Stay inside.”
Kathryne took one look at his expression and sucked in her breath. If this was Chase angry, she didn’t want to see it again. The color of his eyes, the soft gray she liked so much, had changed to the color of polished pewter. His entire body seemed to vibrate. “Sarge!” he bellowed.
The dog dropped the stick and trotted into the house behind her. “Lock the doors.”
She did as he asked, flipping the lock on the door then moved to the window as Chase left the porch at a run. His long legs carried him across the bridge and into the schoolhouse. He came out a moment later then ran around the side of the building and disappeared into the trees.
Hours passed as she stood at the window, waiting for him to return. Darkness fell, hiding the coffee service still on the table on the porch. Nothing moved outside and silence, except for the lonely hoot of an owl in the distance, deafened her. Kathryne lit the sconces on the wall then built a fire in the fireplace as Sarge lay on the rug and chewed on one of the hambones Edna had given him. The flames brought a much needed warmth to the room and managed to chase away some of the coldness seeping into her bones.
She’d just about given up on him when a knock sounded at the back door. Kathryne jumped then raced to the kitchen. She pushed aside the curtain covering the window and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw his face through the glass. She opened the door and let him in while Sarge danced around their legs, issuing his happy little growl-groan.
“There was no one there,” he said, his voice gruff and filled with tension.
“But there was. I felt him staring at us…at me. I felt his hatred.” She fell into his arms. “Maybe I’m just imagining things.”
“No, Katie, you’re not.” He brushed the hair away from her face, tucking the strands behind her ears. “We were being watched. I felt it, too.” He released her then and moved further into the house. “I still would like you to stay inside and keep the doors locked.”
“How am I to teach? How am I to do anything?” She followed him into the parlor then out the front door where he piled everything from their afternoon coffee on the tray and handed it to her. “No, Chase. I can’t allow my fears to keep me from doing what I need to do. I have a classroom full of students eager to learn. I have friends in the community. I will not be a prisoner in my own home.” She felt him following her from the parlor back into the kitchen then give a sudden, muffled cuss as he banged his shin on the trunk she kept moving from place to place.
“Do you want me to put that trunk back in the attic?”
She shook her head as she placed the dirty dishes in the sink and filled the basin with hot water from the stove’s reservoir. “No, I still want to go through it and see what’s inside.” Kathryne turned around and leaned against the counter. She studied his face and sighed. “What would you like me to do, Chase? Go back to Washington? Let them make me so frightened I give up on my dreams? Leave the children I’ve become fond of?” She almost said, “Leave you?” but stopped herself in time.
He took three steps and swept her into his arms. His gaze held hers steady and she saw, within the depths of his eyes, that he didn’t want her to go, didn’t want her to leave. “No.” He shook his head. “Stay here and fight the good fight, Katie.” If there had been any doubts in her mind about his reputation as a bad man, they were erased in one fell swoop. Why would a gun for hire tell her to “fight the good fight” if he was anything but a good man? “You’re making a difference with the children. And with me.” He traced the side of her face with his thumb then leaned forward and captured her mouth with his.
Oh, such a kiss!
If this is wrong, then so be it! Kathryne melted into him, her body pressing against his, her hands snaking around his neck, drawing him closer still. His kiss deepened, his lips sliding over hers, his tongue exploring the recesses of her mouth. Heat flared in her veins, molten honey warming her from the inside out. The strange quiver in her belly every time he came near exploded, sending a shudder of pure pleasure up her spine.
He pulled away, breaking the kiss, leaving her bereft and chilled without his warmth. A flush spread over his face, as if embarrassed he’d let his emotions get out of control. “I should go,” he whispered against her hair then quickly, before he changed his mind, walked out the kitchen door into the darkness of the night.
Kathryne closed and locked the door behind him, then let her pent-up breath escape her and though she still trembled from his touch, she finished washing the dishes, bathed in the brass bathtub hidden in a small room off the kitchen and put on her nightclothes.
She’d never be able to sleep now. Too many thoughts rumbled through her head, her body keyed-up and tense from Chase’s kiss. The warmth of his touch had left an unsatisfied ache burning within.
She made herself a cup of tea then wandered into the parlor. She needed something to do, something to take her mind off the men who watched her, off Chase, who’d left her muscles taut with a yearning she couldn’t deny. Kathryne pushed the trunk near the fireplace, made herself comfortable in her favorite chair, and finally opened the ornate chest that seemed to be in everyone’s way.
Old letters, tied together with a pink ribbon rested on top of a lace and silk wedding dress. There were other things in the chest as well—a small spray of dried flowers, a ticket to a play held at the town hall, folded so often the crease was soft and frayed, a daguerreotype of an older man and woman, but above all, the carved wooden box contained an overwhelming sense of loneliness and foreboding.
Sarge trotted up beside her and stuck his nose into the chest. He sneezed twice then shook his head, sending droplets of water from the drink he’d just taken into the air. “Be a good boy and go lie down.” Obedient as always, he turned in a circle and flopped to the floor, his head resting on her foot.
“What do you think happened to her, Sarge?” The dog whined and gave a small muffled woof. “Even if Amanda Stillwell had eloped, she wouldn’t have left these treasures behind.” She pulled the wedding gown from the trunk and shook it free of wrinkles. “Especially this.” She untied the ribbon holding the letters together and began to read. The letters were from Amanda’s mother in San Francisco and were full of gossipy tidbits of people Amanda must have known well.
Kathryne found herself laughing at Mrs. Stillwell’s words…until the letters took on a more serious tone. Mrs. Stillwell had been very concerned—worried—about the man Amanda had been seeing and her letters reflected as much, especially after the love affair had taken a turn…and not for the better.
By the time Kathryne finished the last letter, she, too, was worried about a woman she’d never met. Amanda had not eloped. And Amanda’s unhappy love affair had been with one of Crystal Creek’s lawmen. But which one? Deputy Montrose, whose fiancé had left town because of his temper or so Edna claimed? Deputy Long? Or the sheriff himself? And if she hadn’t eloped, what happened to her?
Chapter Eleven
“The end,” Kathryne said as she read the very last words of The Adventures of Oliver Twist and closed the book. She smiled as her gaze passed over the students in her class. For the past thirty minutes, they’d sat quietly, riveted by Charles Dickens’ words, enthralled by the tale. “Did you all enjoy the story?”
Nods and grins came from the children. If nothing else, perhaps she had sparked a love of the written word for them. Some of her happiest childhood memories revolved around sitting in her favorite chair and getting lost in the pages of a good book.
“Thank you, Mary, for sharing your book.” She walked between the small clusters of desks and handed the novel to Mary. “Now, take this home and put it in a very special place, but don’t just let it sit there gathering dust. Read it again. As often as you like.” She strolled toward the front of the room and her desk. Movement outside the window caught her attention.
He was there again. In the same place he was in yesterday and the day before. Shep Turner. Standing beneath a tree, his intense stare focused on her as he cleaned his fingernails with the tip of his knife. Kathryne took a deep breath and did her best to ignore his presence, but she trembled just the same. She didn’t like him. In all truth, he frightened her. He’d only approached her one other time since that night when he accosted her on the street several weeks ago. He’d been following her as she left the Wagon Wheel but Sarge hadn’t liked the idea. The man had backed off once the dog stepped between them and emitted a menacing growl low in his throat. From that moment, Shep hadn’t come near her again, but he still watched her.
With effort, Kathryne pulled her gaze away from the window. “Does anyone else have a book they’d like to share with the class?”
Paul Maitland raised his hand. “My mother’s favorite story is Gulliver’s Travels. She might let me bring it in.”
“That’s a wonderful story. It’s one of my favorites as well. I’ll write a note to your mother. Perhaps she’ll let us borrow it for a while.” Kathryne quickly jotted a message on a piece of paper, folded it and handed it to Paul. “Class dismissed.” The sound of chairs scraping and children talking followed her words.
She stood at the door, Sarge dancing around her skirts as she inspected each child to make sure coats were buttoned. The weather had turned colder in the past few days and the scent of snow hung in the air, but as yet, no snow had fallen. Though only the beginning of November, winter had come to Crystal Springs, necessitating the use of her fireplace at home and the small Ben Franklin stove in the schoolhouse, which someone always had blazing by the time she walked into the schoolhouse each morning.
Walter and Joe were the last two students left in the classroom. “Joe, would you please do me a favor and wal
k Walter home?” She adjusted the collar of Walter’s coat, bringing the wool closer to his throat.
“Aw, Miss Kate, I don’t need no one to walk me home.” Walter tried to twist away from her. “I’m a big boy. Mama said so.”
Kathryne grinned. She couldn’t help it. He’d become so special to her, as had his mother, and though Shep had not once approached any of the children, she’d feel better knowing Walter wasn’t alone. “Yes, you are, Walter, but I would consider it a special favor if you and Joe walked together.”
She and Joe exchanged glances over the boy’s head.
“Come on, Walter. Maybe we can stop at Graham’s and get some candy.” Joe grinned as he said the words then dug deep in his pocket to pull out a few pennies.
Walter’s face lit up, the freckles adorning his nose more pronounced, his eyes twinkling with the prospect. He took one of the pennies and closed his fingers around it. “Do you think Mr. Graham has peppermint sticks?”
Joe ushered him out the door as he nodded his goodbyes to her. “He did yesterday.”
She folded her arms across her chest against the chill. “Stay out of trouble, boys.”
As Kathryne watched them walk down the path, she marveled at the changes that had come over Joe in the past couple weeks. She couldn’t help wondering what—or who—had inspired them. He’d gone from being a belligerent bully to a boy who was more respectful, more helpful. His grades had improved as well. Part of that, she hoped, might have something to do with her influence and the love she had for teaching.
She grabbed her shawl from the hook beside the door and left the schoolhouse. Sarge pushed his cold, wet nose into her hand. She noticed that his fur was cold too. “Let’s go home, boy.”
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