Chase, p.11
Chase, page 11
"No." Chase waved a hand. "Take me to my house."
Cynara frowned. "You'd be more comfortable at the house where we can give you constant care. We could put you in the sewing room."
"On that old cot?" He made a huffing noise. "My bed would be more comfortable."
"All right." Cynara gave in. "Take him to his house, Smokey."
"Yes'm. Will do."
They soon pulled up in front of the old foreman's cottage. The men lifted Chase out, using an old door as a gurney, carried him inside, and lay him on the bed, despite the dirt on his clothes.
"I can watch over 'im, ma'am," Smokey offered.
"That would be helpful," Cynara replied. "Did you send Roy for the doctor?"
"Yes'm."
Roy, the stable boy. Jessamine hadn't realized he'd stayed behind. She walked to the bed and adjusted the pillows under Chase's head. He grabbed onto her hand and clung to it. "Your turn to take care of me and keep my spirits up."
She reached into her skirt pocket with her free hand and brought out the worry stone he'd given her nearly three years ago. "Here. Rub this. It will keep you occupied, take your mind off your pain, and give you something to do."
His laughter ended abruptly. "That hurt. Don't make me laugh again, Jess. But what you said was perfect. Right.”
She smiled, though it lacked enthusiasm. "I'm sorry, Chase. I didn't mean to cause you pain."
"It's okay." He kissed the back of her hand and fell asleep.
Jessamine stayed with him until Barclay burst inside with Jared, waking Chase. The doctor had come and gone. He'd pronounced Smokey's stitching job on Chase's leg excellent, prepared a cast for the arm, and doctored some other scrapes and bruises.
"Can’t leave for a moment without you getting into trouble, can we?" Barclay teased.
Jared snorted. "Bet he was doing some dumb trick with the horse to impress Jessamine."
"She wasn't even there." Chase scowled at him. "I'm fine. Smokey's taking care of me. Get back to the roundup."
"Smokey?" Barclay turned to look at Jared. "I thought Jessamine was the one who found him and came running for help."
"I found him trying to get out of the corral," Jessamine said. Chase's defense of her pleased her, but so did hearing Jared mention her without hatred in his voice. "The stallion had reared up and was about to stomp him."
"Did he charge you?" Barclay asked Jessamine.
"No." Jessamine held up her hands. "He dropped to all-fours, snorted and trotted off."
"Strange," Jared commented.
"No, it isn't." Chase glowered. "I told you her mere presence calms the wild horses."
Jared glanced at her and shrugged. "Maybe you're right. I'd sure like a demonstration."
"She'll be working with the horses more now I'm laid up." The temper eased from Chase's voice and countenance. "Maybe you'll get your chance to watch."
"No, he won't," Barclay said. "We have to get back to the roundup. We have another three weeks or so of work up there, and then there's the branding to do."
"Yeah," Jared agreed. "Better get riding."
"Thanks for checking on me." Chase offered his uninjured hand, and the men shook.
As Jared walked past Jessamine on his way out the door, he said, "Take good care of him."
"I will."
He nodded and left with Barclay.
Jessamine returned to the bed and placed her inner wrist against Chase's forehead to check his temperature. "No fever. That's good."
"Seems like Jared's beginning to accept you, or already has." Chase motioned for her to sit on the side of the bed. "I imagine you can thank Healy for that. She has more common sense in her baby finger than he does in his whole body."
Jessamine settled on the bed but farther away than she knew he would have preferred.
"I wanted to give you a kiss for taking such good care of me," he said.
"You know that's not the best idea." She pushed his hand away when he tried to draw her closer.
"Why not?" Chase frowned. "Jess, I'm not like those outlaws. I will always be gentle with you. Can’t we at least, hug?"
She wished they could. Seeing Chase on the ground at the corral with the stallion rearing over him had nearly scared the hair off her head. She needed her hands on him and his body against hers. Was she too protective of herself? "Logically, what you say makes sense, but when you hold me close, it's like a devil throws a switch in my head, and the terror overwhelms me. I don't do it on purpose. Nor can I stop it from happening."
Or could she?
She'd have to think about that more. She had meant to ask Chase to go to the hideout with her and help dig up the stolen money. If she didn't see it returned to the people who deserved to have it, the guilt would eat her soul.
"Tell you what," Chase said. "We'll get you over this a day at a time, the way I tame the mustangs. Each day I'll give you a quick kiss and hold you for a second. By the end of a week, I'll have you as calm as a turtle dove while I hold you for a whole minute. How about that?"
She smiled. "Chase, you're so entertaining. I wish I could bottle you and take me with you when I leave."
He eyed her speculatively. "Leave my house? Or the ranch? And for good?"
"For good," she said.
"Aw, Jess, don't even talk about that. I can’t bear it."
To soothe him, she slid closer and put her hand on his cheek. "You won't even miss me, Chase."
"Liar." He took her hand, kissed her palm, and pulled her down until she could see the lines in his irises.
"What are you doing?" Jessamine stiffened in Chase's arms. "You said you were going to do this kissing test a second at a time at first.”
"This is a test," he said. "We're going to see how long you can stand for me to kiss you. Start counting in your head."
He gave her until the count of three before he put his lips to hers. Inside, she smiled at his cunning and the curiosity he'd aroused. How long could she endure the intimacy that so terrorized her up to this point?
Four; her pulse quickened.
Five; she began to tremble.
Six; he brushed his lips over hers and nipped gently at her upper lip with his teeth.
Seven; an ache began in her belly.
Eight; he nudged her lips apart with his tongue and slipped it inside, flicking the tip against hers.
Nine, ten, eleven; she'd had no idea kissing could be like this. Some of the outlaws had tried thrusting their tongues in her mouth, and she'd nearly emptied her stomach on them. This, with Chase, was different, softer, gentler, slower.
Twelve; he tightened his embrace. She stiffened. Began to shake. Her chest constricted.
The switch had flipped like a dragon's tail.
Panic.
It filled her, choking off her air, making her skin crawl.
"No!" She pushed away and backed across the room, panting, her heart thumping. "I can't."
She ran for the door.
"Jess. Wait," he called.
She halted. "How long did I last?"
"About thirty seconds. Not too bad, but it could have been tremendously nicer if it had lasted longer."
He meant it. Had she given the test a fair chance? Could she learn to enjoy kissing a man, lying with him? Was Chase right? Was she cheating herself out of one of the joys of life? She wanted to be normal, to marry, bear more children.
With Chase. She wanted to do all those things with him.
But she'd failed the test, and, even if she hadn't, she could do nothing about being barren.
The tears came then, tightening her chest, flooding her eyes, and blurring her view of him. "I'm sorry."
She threw open the door and ran.
"Damn!" Chase pounded his fist on the bed. What he truly wanted to strike was himself for frightening her off.
Couldn't be a bit more patient, could you, ya selfish idiot? You had to make it last longer. Now, see what you've done. What if she never comes back?
He had to get out of bed and start walking again so he could go after her.
With a grunt, he eased over to the edge of the bed. Every muscle hurt. When he made it to the side of the mattress and pushed aside the covers, he sat up.
Hell, he was naked. Getting dressed would be a nightmare. Sitting up had been bad enough. Ten minutes passed as he built up his courage to stand. If Ma were here, she'd have him up in ten seconds with words alone.
He sucked in a deep breath, braced himself on his right leg, and pushed himself up. He moaned and slid to the floor, the entire room dimmed and turned black. He woke up sometime during the night and thought about getting into bed. The idea struck him as too difficult and painful. He yanked on the blanket instead and dragged it over him where he sat. As chilled and uncomfortable as he was, he had strength for nothing else.
Jessamine stood in the kitchen of the big house, getting herself a glass of water the next morning. Through the window, she could see Oysters hurry from Chase's cabin toward the house.
She met the cook at the door. "Is something wrong, Oysters?"
"You might wanta check on Chase, ma'am." He combed his beard with his fingers as he always did when unnerved. "I took over a breakfast tray and found him sitting on the floor, naked, 'cept for a blanket, and unconscious."
"Oh, my stars." She put down her glass and started for the door, then stopped. "Is he still naked on the floor?"
"No, ma'am." Oysters smiled. "I got him back in bed. He's still out like a doused lamp, though."
Jessamine considered asking why he found that humorous, decided not to waste her time, and passed through the screened porch to the door. Once outside, she ran to Chase's small house and threw open the door, calling his name. "Chase?"
Silence answered, but she'd reached the bedroom and saw him under the hastily drawn-up covers. One bare foot stuck out. The water in the basin had spilled or evaporated. Oysters kept the kitchen meticulous. Everything had its place but appeared to be as far as his tidiness went.
"Chase!" She patted his face. "Chase, wake up."
When he still didn't respond, she glanced at the water pitcher on the washstand. Rather than pouring it over his head, she wet a clean cloth, sat on the side of the bed, and wiped his cheeks.
Chase moaned, and his hand moved.
"Oh, good." She ran the cloth down his neck onto his chest. "Come on, Chase. Wake up. You're scaring me."
His eyes blinked open. "Jess."
"Is your mind as blurry as your eyes?" she asked, bathing his chest. "Yes, it's me."
He took hold of her wrist, stopping her. "I'm naked."
"I know."
"You can’t see me like this." He let go of her and held his hand in front of her eyes.
"Silly. Not only can I see you, but I can also touch you." She lowered the blanket and kept washing. "I'm your nurse."
"My beautiful nurse." He gripped her arm and pulled her toward him. "Kiss me."
"Is this my daily test to see how long I can endure it?"
"That's right. But, this time, you have to kiss me." He closed his eyes and pursed his lips.
Jessamine laughed. "You look daft like that."
He opened one eye. "Then, take pity on me and use your mouth to shut me up."
Jessamine pondered that proposal. She shouldn't encourage him. Even so, she did want to see if she could learn to like kissing. Oh, shoot. She wanted to kiss him.
Bending, she whisked her lips over his. She'd thought she could escape afterward. Instead, he embraced her with his right arm and returned her kiss with enthusiasm. At once, she felt trapped, imprisoned. She began to struggle.
"Well, now, what's going on here?" a familiar voice drawled.
Chapter Twelve
C hase released Jessamine so suddenly that she fell back a few steps and fought to maintain her balance. Once she'd caught herself, she spun around to see who had spoken. Oysters stood in the bedroom doorway with a cup of coffee and a grin, barely visible in his whiskers.
"Easy, Miss Jessie. It's jest me." Oysters stomped to the bed, handing the cup to Chase. "Here's your coffee, but I gotta tell you, this is a long dang walk from the big house. Too much for an old coot like me to be tracking several times a day. I'm moving you to the house, like it or not."
"That's a good idea, Oysters," Jessamine said, her cheeks hot with embarrassment.
"No, it's not." Chase pushed himself up in the bed and leaned against the headboard. "I want to stay in my bed. That blasted cot they want me to sleep on feels like a sack filled with rocks."
"You can sleep in my room," Jessamine said, "and I'll take the sewing room."
Chase muttered something under his breath that she suspected she should be glad not to have heard. She suspected it had something to do with interfering in his kissing game. She wouldn't be kissing him again.
"Savor that coffee, Chase." Oysters headed for the door. "It's the last I'll bring you here. I'll be back shortly to move you." As he came side by side with Jessamine, he winked.
Mortified, she followed him out. "I'll go back with you. I have things to do.”
"Jess," Chase called. "Come back, please."
"Later," she called over her shoulder. Oysters' long legs left her behind.
The rest of the day, Jessamine busied herself knitting a sweater for Vella in the sewing room. She ignored the ruckus of Chase being moved into her room. She'd gotten her most personal belongings switched to her new quarters, except for her dresses and the small chest that held her collection of antique jewelry. No closet existed in the sewing room.
She ignored Chase's calls to her over and over. When the house grew quiet, Cynara tapped on the door. "May I come in?"
"Of course, you can." Sitting on the cot, Jessamine gave her a puzzled look. "It's your house."
"This is your room now." Cynara sat on a chair. "Besides, you're becoming a sort of fixture here."
Reddening, Jessamine jumped to her feet. "Oh. I've worn out my welcome. I apologize. As soon as—"
"Whoa, Jessamine." Cynara held up her hands. "Sit down. I'm not trying to get rid of you. Quite the opposite. I've enjoyed your company. You fit so well into this household we sometimes forget that you haven't always been here."
"Is that all right?" Jessamine ventured.
"Very all right."
Connor came racing in. "Mama, Jenetta hit me with a stick."
"Why did she do that?" Cynara asked.
"She won't share the rocking horse Unca Jared made us."
His incensed expression caused Jessamine to swallow a laugh. For the life of her, she couldn't see a scratch or bruise, not even reddened skin from being struck.
"I'll come and talk with her in a minute, okay?" Cynara ushered him out the door.
"Okay, but hurry, Mama." He took off like a foot racer.
Cynara blew out a breath and walked to the door. "I've been discovered. Do you want to help get the little angels down for their naps? They should be ready soon."
"Yes, I'd love to. Shall I come with you now?" She put down her knitting.
Before they could get out the door, Vella darted inside, giggling. "I'm hungry, Mama Jess. Can I have an apple?"
"May I," Jessamine corrected. Her gaze shot to Cynara, but instead of being upset, the woman laughed. "I've tried to get her to stop calling me mama," Jessamine said.
"I know. It doesn't matter. Really." Cynara bent to study a tear in Vella's dress. "Another rip. Sometimes, I think I'm raising a band of wild Indians."
With a hand over her mouth, Vella let out a wild yell and galloped out of the room on an invisible steed. When Jessamine stood, she noticed the child was dragging a thread of yarn behind her. "Oh, no. The sweater. Vella, stop!"
The girl had taken hold of the yarn before sprinting off, resulting in the quick unraveling of Jessamine's work. Cynara slammed her foot on the thread to stop the destruction. From the parlor came the sound of a small body thumping onto the floor and a child's startled cry.
Jessamine and Cynara rushed in to find Vella lying on her back, a red woolen thread stretching from her to the sewing room.
"Oh, dear." Cynara helped the girl stand.
"She's not hurt. Are you, Vella?" Jessamine stroked the child's face, and Vella held out her arms to her. "Do you know why this happened, Vella?"
The girl shook her head, letting go of the yarn to put her thumb in her mouth.
Returning to the sewing room, Jessamine showed her what she'd caused. "See. I was making this for you."
Vella asked with surprise. "For me?"
"Yes, but when you took the thread—" Jessamine held the girl to show her she wasn't in trouble. "—it came apart, so it's not a sweater anymore."
"I killed it." Vella opened her mouth and bawled.
"She's ready for a nap," Cynara said. "I'd better round up the other two savages."
"I'll put her down." Jessamine sat in a rocker and continued her effort to calm Vella. "It's all right, sweetheart. You're okay, and I'm not angry with you. No need to cry."
"I ruineded your sweater." Vella blinked big wet eyes, then nestled her head under Jessamine's chin. "You're not mad at me?"
"No, but I hope you learned not to take things that don't belong to you without asking permission."
The girl buried her head against Jessamine's shoulder. "Yes, Mama. I learneded."
"Learned," Jessamine corrected. Vella didn't hear. She'd fallen asleep.
Jessamine stood, holding the little girl, and headed for the stairs. Outside, a wagon rumbled up to the front porch. A look out the window told her the visitor was Ma Givens and another woman. Had Ma heard about her youngest son's accident already? Would she blame Jessamine? She wanted Ma to like her.
Jessamine stood there, unsure whether to keep going to the nursery or wait to greet Julia. While she wasted time thinking, Ma let herself in.
"Hello, Jessamine." Ma put a finger to her lips and tiptoed up to peek at Vella. "Isn't she sweet when she's asleep?"
"Yes. Let me lay her down." Jessamine put the child on the settee and returned to the older women. "You brought popcorn balls?"
Ma chuckled. "If I came without either them or scones, my boys would likely lift my scalp."
"The men aren't here." Jessamine balanced the box on her hip and pointed back from where she'd come. "Only Chase, and he's upstairs in the guest room. He's been hurt, Mrs. Givens."
