by Carrigan Fox
He glared down at her in silence. “Dance,” he finally muttered. He grabbed her hand and roughly pulled her closer to the band pavilion. He didn’t stop pulling her until they were in the middle of other dancing couples.
“Why are you so angry?” she asked, getting angry herself.
“I am damned tired of your games, Cochrane,” he growled quietly enough that none of the couples nearby could overhear their conversation.
His quiet voice did nothing to take the sting out of his tone. Fear mingled with fury, and both bubbled to the surface. “You have some nerve. I just told you that I’m in love with you, and you accuse me of playing games?”
“Yes. Games. It wasn’t enough that you had the pleasure of rejecting two marriage proposals of mine. What are you playing at? Are you aiming for a third?”
“I didn’t take pleasure from rejecting you. That broke my heart!” Chase realized that she had raised her voice, and they had drawn the attention of others. His hand tightened over her own.
He pulled her closer and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Well I’m glad to see you’ve recovered so well.”
“You are an ass,” she whispered in response. “You didn’t propose love. You proposed duty. You didn’t want to marry me.”
“True.”
The hand resting on his shoulder balled into a fist. She wondered how the town of Slaughter would respond if she punched a man at a holiday festival.
“And you didn’t want to marry me. You made that plain when we first started our affair.”
“I didn’t want to marry anyone. But I’ve changed my mind. Is that so difficult for you to believe?”
“You changing your mind? It’s not so hard to believe, no. You’ve been changing your mind regularly since the moment we met.”
“That’s not true,” she argued. “If anyone has been inconsistent in this relationship, it has been you.”
“I haven’t been inconsistent. I’ve been trying not to fall in love with you. But you are so damned stubborn and beautiful and independent,” he growled.
“You say that like those are good things,” she spat.
“They are, you foolish tart,” he hissed.
She suddenly could feel the heat radiating from his body.
“I tried like hell to resist you, but I have failed. You win,” he sighed in resignation.
“Even though I’m stubborn and independent?”
He pulled back and pushed a strand of hair roughly away from her eyes. “Because you’re stubborn and independent.”
“So you don’t view me as a soulless cow without a mind of her own?” she asked, trying to keep from smiling.
His eyes grinned, and his sexy lips followed suit. “Not remotely.”
“Webb, I’d really like for you to propose to me again,” she whispered.
“I know you would, sweetheart,” he answered.
Chase waited in anticipation, but he only watched the other couples while they moved in time with the music. “Well?” she prodded.
“It’s not going to happen.”
“What do you mean?” She felt her heart racing and her face flushing in humiliation and anger. At the same time, a knot worked its way up into her throat; but she refused to cry in front of this son of a bitch.
“A man’s pride can only take so much rejection.”
“But I won’t reject you this time!” Even she couldn’t deny the whiny tone of her voice.
“That’s right. Because I’m not askin’.” He smiled down at her with enjoyment over her growing frustration.
With a huff, she turned on her heel to storm away from him, but he held tight to her hand and brought her body back against his own.
“Bein’ a strong and independent woman, Chastity Fairfax, I’m sure you’ll get over me,” he taunted, infuriating her even more. The prospect of merely punching him was no longer satisfying. She wanted to maim him.
Chase took a deep breath and shoved him away from her. “Fine,” she huffed. “Then if you aren’t a big enough man to put your pride aside and propose, I will.” She forced the words out through her clenched teeth. They hadn’t avoided a scene entirely so far, and she knew that if she dropped to one knee, both of them would be scandalized. He must have realized this at the same time, because he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms again before she could kneel before him.
An angry and embarrassed flush colored his cheeks. “Woman,” he began. “You have stomped on my pride more than once, and I will be damned if I let you make me the laughing stock of all of Texas by letting you propose to me.”
“You are leaving me no other choice.”
He danced rigidly, body tense with emotion. The crowd around them tried to appear as though they weren’t watching their strange dance. “I’m not proposing again. And I’m not letting you propose. And that’s final.”
“You’re not letting me? If I want to propose—”
“You are more stubborn than any person I’ve ever met.”
“I can think of one person who’s as stubborn,” she hissed.
“We’re going to have to work on this business of compromise if we’re to have an ounce of sanity in our marriage.”
“What marriage?”
“No proposals. Just vows and marriage.”
“Is that an order? Or a proposal?”
“Neither. It’s a suggestion.”
Trying to suppress a grin, he nodded shortly and pulled her body closer to his to finish the dance.
“All right. But I will only agree on one condition, Webb.”
His smug expression faltered, and he looked down at her with exasperation. “Now what?”
“Understand that if you ever call me a tart again, I will castrate you while you sleep,” she threatened.
***
She leaned closer to her betrothed’s warm body and laced her arm through his. He held the reins of the horses firmly in one hand while putting his free arm around her shoulders.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked.
Chase nodded. She was squeezed between Colton and Elisabeth in their lorry. He had insisted that he drive her home, even though it was out of his way. George Wainwright was puttering along in his car ahead of them, while Marcus rode his own horse and led his sister’s home without a rider.
“Did you notice my sister and Tom tonight? They seemed to spend a few too many numbers dancing and enjoying themselves.”
“Hmmm,” was his only response.
“Marcus sure has his hands full with his two willful sisters.”
“Not to mention his grandmother,” Colton added, chuckling. “I don’t envy the man.”
“We can’t help ourselves. It runs in the family.”
“God help me if we have daughters,” he muttered.
Chase elbowed him squarely in the ribs and caught Elisabeth smiling at their playful bickering.
“Be careful, woman, or I won’t take you home after all.” His grin was sexy and suggestive, and it was tempting to urge him on straight to his house.
“Stop it, Colton,” Elisabeth admonished, putting an abrupt end to their flirtations.
Up ahead, a man on horseback moved into the road to block the way. An identical figure joined the first. Tom rode beside Marcus and pulled his horse around to face the rear.
“They’ve got us blocked in,” he whispered loudly enough for both Marcus and Colton to hear.
Chase could hear the gentleman on horseback behind them, and two more appeared on either side of their lorry. The horse behind them pulled up even with them.
“Good evening, Lady Fairfax.” In spite of the warmth of Webb’s body beside hers, a cold shudder wracked her body at the sound of Jett Stockton’s voice. She suddenly noticed a cool breeze stirring as the sun was preparing to set on this Labor Day.
Four of the five men had shotguns in their hands. One of the men cocked his gun and trained the weapon squarely on her brother. Stockton was the only man who didn’t have a gun in his hands, bu
t he did have a large handgun on his hip and was obviously ready to draw at a moment’s notice.
“You’re wasting your time here, Mr. Stockton. I’m not returning to England with you,” Chase announced loudly. Her voice sounded steadier than she expected.
“On the contrary, m’lady, that’s exactly what you are going to do.”
A second man cocked his gun and aimed at the rear of George Wainwright’s automobile. Her grandmother, Reese, and Elisa were in that seat with the baby.
“Get out of the lorry,” he instructed Chase coldly.
Terror for the safety of the other women made her legs tremble as he stood to climb down, but Colton stopped her by grabbing her arm. “She’s staying with us, Stockton.”
She shook her head at him, silently pleading.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered intently. The urgency in his eyes softened his strong hold that was already bruising her upper arm.
“My family. And the baby,” she whispered.
He released her arm and watched her begin to climb out of the lorry. Stockton rushed toward them and impatiently jerked Chastity off of the carriage, causing her to fall to the ground. A pain shot up through her hip and to her shoulder. Colton made a move to help her, but a third gun was aimed at him. Elisabeth grabbed his arm and pulled him back into his seat.
While nursing her shoulder and hip, Chase reached for her left ankle. She managed to barely wrap her fingers around the gun that was holstered beneath her skirt at her ankle. Then Stockton leaned over in his saddle and pulled her roughly to her feet by the hair and lifted her into the saddle in front of him, tossing her over his lap. He dug his heels into his horse, and his knee caught Chase on the side of her cheek. She cried out in pain as flashes of darkness filled her vision. For a moment, she feared she would lose consciousness and drop her gun, but she managed to stay alert.
As they rode away, Stockton growled, “Do what you’d like with them.”
They weren’t ten paces away when an eruption of gunfire broke out. Chase strained against him to see what was happening, but he pushed her head back down against his leg. Panic began to take hold. She wanted to scream or flail and hit out at something or someone. But she suddenly felt paralyzed. Voices yelled, a woman screamed, baby Jacob’s wails could barely be heard above all the other commotion.
She could almost envision her family in their final moments. Even her own terror could not slow her racing mind. She refused to live a life of servitude with this would-be rapist who could be responsible for murdering the people she loved.
Chase fell limp for a few strides and then used all of her strength to thrust her body up and off of his lap. She fell to the ground and pushed herself up onto her knees as he rounded the horse and came back for her. Pulling the gun up before her, she used both hands to steady the weapon and aim before squeezing the trigger.
Stockton’s right shoulder jerked backward, and he nearly fell off of his horse. He pulled his weapon and was bringing it around toward her when she shot him a second time. This time, he did fall off of his horse.
Chase scrambled to her feet as he staggered to his.
“You stupid bitch!” he screamed. Spittle flew from his mouth and dripped onto his chin. “You are mine! And if I have to bring you back to England in a pine box, I will happily do just that!” He looked down and realized that he had dropped the gun when he fell off the horse. He hesitated only a moment before roaring in rage and running straight for Chastity. With his teeth bared and spotted with chewing tobacco, he was both terrifying and revolting.
The gun jammed in her hand and would not fire. She squeezed the trigger repeatedly, but to no avail. His body hit hers full force, both of them falling to the ground. His weight landed on top of her and knocked the breath out of her. She suddenly had a flashback to that afternoon in his father’s library, but she knew his father was not going to accidentally save her this time.
“If any member of my family has been harmed…” she began.
“It was my pleasure,” he leered. Wrapping his hands around her throat, he began slowly choking the life out of her.
A warm stickiness soaked through her blouse, and she knew it was his blood. But as the black spots began to fill her vision for the second time in only a few minutes, Chase knew that he would strangle her before he bled to death. The thought of his body lying dead on top of her own made her stomach turn and lurch. Had his hands not been tight around her neck, she might have gagged or vomited.
And then a gunshot rang out. His body jerked above hers, and a warm mist sprayed her face. And then he fell upon her, slowly suffocating her with his weight and his stench. Chase heard a stifled grunt as someone struggled with the dead weight of Stockton’s body, but he was soon rolled off of her.
She sucked in the fresh evening air hungrily and wiped frantically in an attempt to get his blood off of her face. A figure leaned over her for a moment before kneeling, putting the smoking gun down on the ground, and brushing the blood-matted hair off of her forehead.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?”
She nodded slowly and winced in pain. “Yes, Grandmother, I’m fine.”
CHAPTER 24
“Be careful. Don’t hurt yourself,” Chase warned while holding her hands out as though to catch him if he fell.
Colton climbed off of his horse without incident and adjusted his arm in his sling. “I’m fine. Stop worrying about me. We’ll walk from here.”
It had been one week since the Labor Day shooting, and all had returned to normal in Slaughter, Texas. Three of Stockton’s four men were killed in the gunfight and the fourth gunman, Tom, and Colton were struck by gunfire. While this was occurring, the elegant Lady Colchester had pushed out of the automobile, grabbed the shotgun of one of the fallen gunmen, and come running after Jett Stockton’s horse. She saw her granddaughter fall from the horse and had assumed that Stockton had thrown her off. She paused only a moment when she saw Chastity sit up and pull her gun on the man, as he rounded his horse and charged toward her.
“Here it is,” Webb announced with a grand sweep of his left arm.
Chase looked out to where he gestured and smiled. “Our pond.”
“No. I’m talking about this.” He leaned casually onto a stake that had been pounded into the ground.
“A stake?”
“This stake marks the site of our wedding ceremony. As soon as my arm lets me, I’m going to build you a beautiful white gazebo. And then we’re going to get married right here.”
“Here?”
“I thought it would be appropriate.” He shrugged casually. “Or if you’d prefer, we can get married in the church.”
Between settling in, the ranch, her new baby nephew, and the threat of Jett Stockton, Chase realized she hadn’t even been to church in Slaughter yet. “There’s a church here?” she asked, surprised.
“Sure. They hold services in Chantal’s on Sundays.”
“This will be a beautiful place to get married,” she laughed.
“So you’re still interested in gettin’ hitched, Cochrane?”
“Are you proposing, Webb?”
“Nope,” he grinned.
“Funny how things change, isn’t it? I once thought marriage was another form of death.”
“And now?”
“Now I can’t imagine life without you.”
“And how about those bonds of matrimony you once mentioned?”
She only grinned in response, and then laughed as he pulled her into his arms.
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16<
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CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHA PTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24