Backlash

by Lisa Jackson

Chapter Eight

  Colton drove through a neighboring town and into the mountains. “We’re going to Garner’s Ridge?” she asked, surprised. “A ghost town?”

  Colton laughed, and the rich sound filled the interior of the Jeep. The road twisted upward, turning to gravel as it wound through the pines and brush. The Jeep bounced and shimmied. Eventually the gravel turned to dirt. A sheer granite wall rose on one side of the deserted road, while forested cliffs fell away on the other.

  When Colton shifted, his fingers nearly brushed her knee. As the Jeep rocked, their shoulders touched fleetingly.

  The road narrowed around a final bend, and he slowed the Jeep to a stop at the end of what once had been the main street. A row of dilapidated buildings with sagging roofs and listing walls lined the narrow alley.

  “Not much, is it?”

  Together they walked through the old mining town where, nearly a hundred years before, gold had been discovered. In the beginning miners had flooded the area but later moved on because the mother lode had never been found. The few settlers who had arrived had left within twenty years.

  Colton stepped onto the ramshackle boardwalk and shouldered open a door, which groaned as the rusted hinges gave way. Mice scurried across ancient floorboards, and a huge hole in the roof allowed a view of the darkening sky.

  “Why did you bring me here?” Cassie asked, cautiously peeking through what little glass remained in the broken windows.

  “I thought we needed a chance to be alone.”

  “You, me and the ghosts?”

  Colton chuckled and grabbed her hand. “I thought we needed to put everything into perspective,” he admitted. “Sometimes too many other people and things get in the way.”

  “Meaning Dad?”

  “For one. Uncle John for another.”

  “Not to mention Black Magic.”

  “Right,” he said quietly, walking back through the front door of the old general store and down the uneven steps. Outside, he propped one shoulder against the rough bark of a huge pine tree.

  Mist rose eerily from the forest floor, forming pale clouds near the buildings and giving the shadowy old town an aura of mystery. “You could almost believe real ghosts live in this town,” Colton murmured.

  “And do you see any spirits?” Cassie stood next to him, her gaze following his. “Any ghosts from your past?”

  “The only ghost I’ve had to deal with is you,” he admitted.

  “Me?”

  “That’s right.” Touching her lightly under the chin, he tipped her face up to his, staring into near-perfect features that were already indelibly etched in his mind. Her cheeks were rosy, her hazel eyes wide as they searched his, her ebony hair curling softly around her face. “I’ve been trying to exorcise you for eight years.”

  “And were you successful?”

  His mouth tightening at the corners, he said, “Doesn’t look like it, does it?”

  “It did for eight years.”

  His eyelids lowered to half-mast. “Not really.”

  Cassie’s heart pounded. If only she could believe him. “And now?”

  “Now is difficult, Cass,” he admitted. “A real problem. Every time I shove you out of my mind, you find a way to push yourself right back in.”

  “Not true. I haven’t bothered you once.”

  “Ah, Cassie,” he said with a world-weary sigh, his defenses slipping. “You didn’t have to try. You were always there—even when I thought I’d forgotten you, something would trigger a memory, and there you’d be.”

  “If you expect me to believe that you’ve been pining for the past eight years—”

  “I don’t pine.”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “But I was bothered.”

  “Not enough to call, or write, or stop by,” she pointed out, trying to remember just how much pain he’d caused. But here in the half-light, alone with him, those agonizing memories seemed to slip away.

  “I wasn’t around.”

  “Your choice,” she reminded him, aware of his fingers, hard and warm, against her chilled skin, and angry with herself for even listening to him.

  “I didn’t want to be bothered,” he said tightly, slowly caressing the column of her throat, his gaze delving even deeper into hers.

  Darkness settled between the decrepit facades of the time-worn buildings, and Cassie wished she had the willpower to draw away, to demand to be taken home, to tell him she never wanted to see him again as long as she lived. But she didn’t. Mesmerized by his silvery eyes, she asked, “What made you change your mind?”

  “You.”

  She laughed, and the sound echoed through the trees.

  “I’m serious,” he said softly. “As long as I was in another city, or state or country, I could keep away from you. But once I was back here—”

  “You’ve been here for months,” she cut in, forcing herself not to fall under his spell. “You didn’t come see me until Black Magic disappeared.”

  A crooked smile twisted his lips. “Part of the time I was laid up,” he replied, bending to push his face closer to hers.

  “And the rest?”

  “Willpower.”

  “So much for my powers of seduction,” she mocked.

  “Oh, you’ve got them,” Colton whispered, his breath fanning her face, “and I’m not immune. But I had everything under control. Until I saw you again.”

  “What’s this all about, Colton?” she asked, her voice sounding more ragged than she’d hoped. She wanted to appear in control when all of her senses were reeling; her nerve endings tingled from his touch, her nostrils were filled with his scent, her eyes were riveted to the sensual line of his lips.

  “I just wanted to be alone with you,” he admitted, his voice as rough as her own.

  “In a ghost town?”

  “Anywhere.” Suddenly his mouth crashed down on hers, his fingers winding in her hair. The sounds of the night disappeared, and all Cassie heard was the wild cadence of her heart and the answering drum of Colton’s. All she felt was the strength of his arms surrounding her and the force of desire raging between them, a desire so strong it destroyed all rational thought, a desire so potent it heated more quickly than it had eight years before.

  “This—this is a big mistake,” she murmured, dragging her mouth from his and searching for some shred of her sanity. What am I doing? she wondered, her breath short and shallow.

  “Not our first.” He kissed her again, thrusting his tongue wondrously between her teeth. With one set of fingers tangled in her hair, he pressed his other hand insistently against the small of her back.

  Through her clothes she could feel the sheer force of his body, the strength of his muscles, the passion racing through his blood.

  Think, Cassie! But she couldn’t, and as the weight of his body dragged her down to a bed of pine needles and soft boughs, she sighed and wound her arms around his neck. I love you, she realized with a sinking heart. I always have.

  His mouth covered hers, and she didn’t fight the warmth invading her. A familiar heat rushed through her blood like quicksilver, pounding in her eardrums as she lay with him.

  He slipped his fingers beneath her sweater, reaching up, touching the silky lace of her bra, causing her skin to tingle. Her nipple grew hard with anticipation, and when the tips of his fingers brushed lightly against her burgeoning breast, she shuddered.

  “I’ve missed you, Cass,” he admitted, kissing her lips gently as his hand surrounded her breast.

  Her heart clamored crazily as he stroked. Her concentration scattered in the wind. “I—It was hard to tell.”

  “Because I didn’t want to admit it,” he conceded, his teeth tugging gently on her lower lip, his hands moving erotically beneath her sweater, kneading her warm, soft flesh, causing a maelstrom of emotions to roil within her.

  With her own fingers she found the buttons of his shirt, slipped under the coarse fabric, and touched skin stretched taut over a washboard of
corded muscles.

  He sucked in a swift breath, his eyes fluttering closed. “You’re a witch,” he whispered.

  “First I’m a ghost, now a witch,” she murmured. “No wonder I’m crazy about you.”

  “Are you, Cass?” he asked, his eyes suddenly flying open.

  “I must be—crazy, that is. Creeping around a ghost town, falling into the arms of a man who swore vengeance on my family. Honestly, Colton,” she said, her good humor surfacing, “this is something out of a bad horror movie.”

  His grin was a slash of white in the darkness. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. Trust me.”

  The last words spilled over her like a bucket of ice water. “Trust you?” she said, all warmth instantly seeping from her body. “After everything that’s happened between us?” Though Colton’s grip on her tightened, she pushed him away. She needed to be free to think. “What about you, huh? Trust is a two-way street, Colton, and last time I looked, you didn’t trust me or my dad!”

  He reached for her, but she withered at his touch, straightening her sweater and drawing her jacket around her. Pine needles scratched against her back.

  What was she doing here with him? What had she been thinking? “I think we’d better go!” she said, her teeth chattering as she scrambled to her feet.

  Colton was on his feet in an instant, pinning her against the prickly bark of the pine tree. “What is it, Cassie?” he demanded, his square chin thrust forward, his gray eyes slits. “What’s on your mind?”

  “Trust isn’t something given, it’s earned,” she said, her own chin inching upward mutinously. “And you can never expect me to trust a man who, without waiting for a word of explanation, walked out on me.”

  “There was nothing to explain!”

  “There was plenty!” she nearly screamed, the words that had burned so bright in her mind leaping to her tongue. “I thought I was pregnant, Colton, and I was scared. Scared to death that you’d reject me.”

  “Bah!”

  “I had all the symptoms. I threw up at least once a day, my period was late and I’d been sleeping with you without a thought for birth control!”

  Under the shifting moonlight she witnessed the blanching of his face.

  “But it didn’t matter, you see. You were right. I was too young to care, to understand what a burden a child would be. I could only see the good side, the thrill and joy of sharing everything with you, of bearing your son or daughter—”

  “Cassie, don’t,” he warned, his skin stretching tight across his rugged features.

  But she couldn’t stop. As if a dam had suddenly given way, Cassie’s words tumbled out in a rush. “I trusted you once, Colton. And I loved you. Good Lord, how I loved you. But you took that love and trust and turned it against me, believing what you wanted to believe so that you could leave Montana and not look back! You told me over and over again that you didn’t want a wife, that we were too young, that we had dreams we had to chase, and the first chance you got, you turned your back on me and took off! So don’t talk to me about trust!”

  Colton’s jaw had become rigid, and the hands imprisoning her against the tree had curled into fists. Under the wrath of Cassie’s fury, Colton didn’t notice the splinters in his palms nor the pain. “Are you finished?”

  “There isn’t any more to say.” She tried to duck under his arm, but he captured her wrist, spinning her back.

  “There’s a helluva lot.”

  “You have reasons for the way you behaved? Excuses?”

  “Just the truth. You were pushing too hard, Cassie. You’d been hinting at marriage for a long time. The baby seemed convenient, especially when it never existed.”

  “Maybe I was just hoping.”

  “And maybe I didn’t like being played for a fool!”

  “Only one person can make a person look like a fool, Colton,” she snapped. “And that’s the person himself.” Wrenching her arm free of his grasp, she started for the Jeep. But in three swift strides he was walking with her, matching her furious steps with those of his own. “Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”

  “No!”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don’t believe me, Colt. And that’s what this is all about!” She couldn’t stop the hot tears that burned in her eyes. At the Jeep she spun to face him. “You were right, you know. We were too young. But I would’ve waited if only I’d felt you cared.”

  Leveling an oath at himself, Colt swore, his emotions battling deep inside. He brushed his finger over the slope of her cheek, sweeping aside a tear. “I cared,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “God, I cared. And it scared the hell out of me.” He drew her into the circle of his arms and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, sighing heavily. “I never meant to hurt you. If you don’t believe anything else, please believe that I never intended to cause you any kind of pain. I should’ve told you all this a long time ago, but I couldn’t. I didn’t understand it myself for a long time, and when I finally did, my pride stood in my way.”

  She felt a shudder rip through him and heard the catch in his voice. After eight long years, she believed him. Deep, racking sobs tore through her soul. She cupped his face between her hands, feeling his warm skin beneath her fingers, knowing in her heart that he was finally baring his soul.

  He turned his face in her hands, kissing her palms. “If there were a way to erase all our mistakes, I’d do it, Cass,” he said. “And if I knew how to prove that I cared then and I care now, I’d do it.” He kissed her forehead and held her close.

  She buried her face against his leather jacket and took in long, calming breaths.

  Time passed, the silence a balm to old wounds. Cassie felt suddenly freed, unburdened from a weight so old it had become a part of her.

  “Come on,” he cajoled. “I’ll take you to dinner. Anywhere you want!”

  “Paris?” she replied, blinking and smiling through unshed tears. He chuckled, though his gaze, staring deep into her eyes, remained sober. “If that’s what you want.”

  “I guess it doesn’t really matter.” She sniffed to keep from crying and made a valiant attempt to disguise the depth of her emotions.

  “How about if we take a rain check on Paris and try something closer?”

  “I’ll hold you to it, you know. I won’t forget.”

  “Oh, yeah. I know, Cass,” he said, opening the passenger door of the Jeep and helping her inside. “I know.”

  * * *

  The minute they stepped through the door of the Pinewood Café, Cassie knew they’d made an irreversible mistake. Every eye in the small restaurant seemed to have turned curiously in their direction.

  Most of the booths, upholstered in a forest-green Naugahyde, were filled. Smoke curled lazily to the ceiling, where a wheezing air-conditioning unit was fighting a losing battle to clean the air. Voices buzzed in low tones, glasses clinked and waitresses bustled from one table to the next.

  As Colton touched Cassie’s elbow and guided her to a booth near the back, she recognized Matt Wilkerson and Bill Simpson at one table, Nate and Paula Edwards at another, and Vince Monroe with his wife, Nadine, and daughter, Jessica, just being seated. Half the town seemed to have decided to have dinner at the Pinewood.

  Cassie nodded to a few people who waved to her, smiling at those who didn’t. She wondered if her lips still looked swollen, or if mascara darkened her cheeks. She’d swiped at her eyes in the Jeep and run her fingers through her loose, bedraggled curls, but she knew she must look like something the cat had dragged in, only to toss out again.

  Most people in Three Falls knew her since she’d grown up in this small town and become one of two veterinarians who helped the neighboring ranchers with their stock and the townspeople with their pets. Managing a bright smile, she tried to act as if dining with Colton McLean were the most natural thing in the world.

  “Popular spot,” Colton observed, glancing around the room as he hung both their jackets on a post separati
ng their booth from the next.

  “Maybe everyone knew we were coming,” she quipped, sliding into the bench across from him.

  Colton laughed, and Cassie felt most of the interested gazes turn back to their meals, though she was sure that Jessica as well as her father cast more than one sidelong glance in their direction.

  A slow smile spread across Colton’s face, and he leaned back casually, his dark hair falling over his forehead, his face a mask of ease.

  A tiny waitress with a brunette ponytail swinging behind her and a uniform that matched the upholstery hurried toward their table. “Hi, I’m Penny,” she said a trifle breathlessly as she handed them each a plastic-covered menu. “The specials tonight are stuffed trout and prime rib. I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu, then I’ll be back for your order.” With a quick smile she scurried to the next table. She seemed nervous and flustered, as if this were her first night on the job.

  Cassie quickly scanned the menu, which she knew by heart. After Vanessa had left, her father had brought her to the Pinewood every Thursday night. Though the restaurant had changed hands and decor several times, the menu hadn’t varied much.

  “I’ll have the game hen,” she decided when Penny appeared again. Colton ordered a steak and fries. Penny scribbled furiously, biting on her lower lip as she concentrated.

  “Dessert?”

  “Not for me,” Cassie replied.

  “I’ll wait until after my meal,” Colton put in.

  “It’ll just be a few minutes.” Penny walked quickly to the counter, filled their drink orders and returned to set a glass of iced tea in front of Cassie and a chilled glass and bottle of beer on Colton’s side of the table.

  “If you need anything else, just let me know,” she said, eager to please. As she dashed through swinging doors leading to the kitchen, Cassie sipped her tea and Colton nursed his beer. The front door swung open again, and a rush of cool night air followed a young man into the pine-paneled room.

  Cassie looked casually toward the door, and her fingers tightened over her glass. Ryan Ferguson, his helmet tucked under one arm, strode to a booth near the front window, where a pulsating green-and-yellow neon sign promoted a local brand of beer.