by Annette Lyon
“You’re scaring me.” She pushed against him again. “Let go of me, or I’ll scream.”
“Hey, now. No need for that.” Wyatt’s voice had softened, and he finally released her — partially, at least. He no longer searched for kisses hungrily, and a Bible or two could have fit between them, but he still had her by the arms.
She decided not to tempt fate by fighting further. He’d backed off, and she no longer felt in danger.
Wyatt stroked her hair with one hand, and she had to force herself to not pull away. Apparently she still had a lingering bit of fright. “I didn’t mean anything,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry if I scared you. It’s just that, well, you have taken over every part of me. You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of in a woman, and...” He shook his head and shrugged. “I suppose I let myself get carried away.”
She’d lowered her head and worried her hands. “I think I should go home.”
“Hazel?” When she didn’t respond, he put a finger under her chin and lifted her face to his. She studied his eyes, his face, his voice, trying to figure out what had gone wrong and what she should think and feel and do. With his thumb, Wyatt stroked her jawline. “It won’t happen again. You have my word.”
Chapter Eight
Nathan tore a section out of the newspaper, folded it, and shoved it into his pocket. He had to find Hazel, now. He stormed out of the house and headed to the square, where the picnic was underway, He searched every corner of the picnic without success. He stopped by her house, thinking that she might have returned home to check on her mother. Not that he had much hope for that, what with what with Wyatt hovering about like an overprotective guard dog. She wasn’t home, and he had to do his best to reassure Mrs. Adams she had nothing to worry about regarding her daughter — though he didn’t believe that at all.
After reading the paper, Nathan was worried — terribly so. He’d since searched almost every place he could think of, having skipped only spots like the pub, the inn, and a few others where young women of good name would never appear. The last place he thought to look was one he shoved aside in his mind more than once, because he hadn’t wanted to consider that she might take a stranger to their tree.
He’d never told Hazel he called it “their tree,” but that’s how he thought of it. Always would. He and Hazel had watched the fireworks from beneath that very tree. He’d kissed her, as he’d wanted to for years. He’d wanted to carve their initials into that tree trunk and surround their initials with a heart and thought it would be a nice surprise to show her after the fireworks — after he’d kissed her, after he’d told her that he loved her.
At the last minute, he’d opted instead to bring along his carving knife, so that after their kiss, they could carve their initials into the tree together, a long-lasting sign of their love. That had been the hope, but of course, Hazel ran away. Away from his arms. Away from his life.
She’d never completely returned.
Having searched everywhere else, he had to consider the possibility that she’d taken Coltrane to their tree. Foolish to think such a location would mean as much to her as it meant to him.
Nathan slowly left the town square and headed for the tree. A pit of worry still in his stomach urged him to call out her name. But as he rounded the last building and the tree came into view, he had no need to call out her name or hear her answer to know whether she was all right. For there she was with Coltrane, but she absolutely was not safe.
She pulled and pushed, trying to wrench away from Coltrane’s grasp, but the tall man held her fast. The snake forced his mouth upon hers. He seemed to want to consume her — almost ravishing her neck with his mouth. His arms traveled around her body, reaching, groping. One reached back to grab her there. The other crawled upward toward her chest.
All of this happened in a matter of seconds, so quickly and forcefully that it took Nathan completely off guard. He stood not twenty paces away, but he felt paralyzed, rooted to the ground like an oak. But Hazel cried out, begging Coltrane to stop. Her plea jolted Nathan into action.
He raced forward and grabbed Coltrane from the back by the shoulders. With all his might, Nathan clung to man’s coat and pulled him. Coltrane lost his balance and stumbled backward two or three steps. Nathan took advantage of the moment and threw Coltrane to the ground as hard as he could, then landed two solid punches before the man got his wits about him.
But then Coltrane fought back. Using his greater height and weight against Nathan’s smaller stature, he flipped Nathan and pinned him to the ground. Coltrane straddled him and punched him in the face, again and again. It all happened so fast that everything was a blur. Nathan could hardly know what he was reacting to. All he could think was that at least Coltrane was no longer holding and restraining Hazel. No longer kissing her against her will.
Nathan fought back, twisting about to free his arms and legs — anything to get out from under the man and make him pay.
Hazel. Thinking of her worked; his devotion to her summoned an extra measure of strength. Nathan shoved Coltrane off him once and for all and got to his feet. But then the two men continued to fight, punching, dodging, and finally, locking arms. They circled each other like wild animals on the hunt.
He heard Hazel, yelling, “Stop! Please, stop.”
Does she mean me or for him?
Nathan was vaguely aware of receding footsteps — likely Hazel’s — followed by a call for help. A patter of additional footsteps. Nathan and Coltrane remained locked, neither surrendering to the other. Coltrane had blood dripping down his face. Nathan could feel his nose swelling and what had to be blood trickling onto his lip. One of Coltrane’s eyes was already swelling, and his eyebrow bled heavily. The sight was oddly satisfying.
Soon several townspeople had congregated, although Nathan didn’t notice their arrival. He and Coltrane were pulled apart, but not before each of them tried to land a few more punches and kicks. The Sheriff Thompson appeared moments after the fight had been broken up. He looked concerned, wary. And when he spied Nathan, surprised.
“Siddoway, what in Sam Hill are you doing?”
“Keeping his slimy paws off an innocent woman!” Nathan said, pointing.
Coltrane strained against the men holding him back. “I was doing nothing she didn’t want me to do. How dare you accuse me of not being a gentleman!”
“A gentleman?” Nathan laughed bitterly. “You are the farthest thing from a gentleman. You know it. I know it. Now get out of our town.” He appealed to the sheriff. “He’s a scoundrel. Arrest him.”
“On what grounds?” Sheriff Thompson asked. “I can’t arrest people willy-nilly just because someone wants me to. If anything, I should take you both in.”
“Both of us? But—”
The sheriff raised both hands. “I understand you don’t like him cozying up to Hazel. I do. But—”
“This isn’t about Hazel!”
“Oh, really,” Sheriff Thompson said, folding his arms again. “Sure looks like it to me.”
“Oh, this is about her,” Coltrane said. “He’s jealous that she got eyes for me on the same day I came to town, while he can’t get her no matter how many years he tries. Earlier, he pretended she was his fiancée.” He laughed derisively. “Can you blame her for rejecting him? What woman wouldn’t pick me over a sniveling little boy?” He jutted his chin Nathan’s direction, sparking another bout of the two men struggling against restraints, trying to reach each other.
The sheriff regarded Nathan with utter calm. He didn’t speak until Nathan settled down from trying to get at Coltrane again. He could still feel a vein throbbing in his neck, and he still wanted to pound the lights out of the bastard, but resisted. Only when he’d pulled back did he notice Hazel standing at the side of the small gathering. She looked at him with dismay, disappointment, and confusion. He couldn’t see any tears from where he stood, but he recognized the look on her face and the tremble in her chin; she was about to cry. Worse, the disappointm
ent was aimed his direction rather than at Coltrane’s.
But I saved her. Why wasn’t she relieved or glad, or — or some emotion that made sense? Feeling far more defeated now than he had when Coltrane was pounding him, Nathan lowered his head and waited for the sheriff to speak. If I end up being locked up overnight in the same cell as that sad excuse for a human...
“I’ve known you your whole life,” Sheriff Thompson said.
Nathan nodded guiltily, as if his own father were chastising him for poor behavior.
“I’ve seen you do a lot of really idiotic things over the years — taking dumb chances, pulling pranks that ended up hurting someone...”
That was an extreme exaggeration. What young boy didn’t get into a little trouble now and again? He’d never done anything truly bad or hurtful that he knew of, or at least, that he could remember.
“But I’ve never seen you attack a man like this, Nathan. It’s not like you, and I don’t know what to think of it.”
“If you’ll listen to me...” Nathan tried his utmost to sound calm in spite of his throbbing jugular. The newspaper article seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket. “I can explain—”
“I think Mr. Coltrane here did a pretty fair job of explaining already. Or can you honestly say Hazel had absolutely nothing to do with why you attacked a visitor and possible new resident of Midway?” Sheriff Thompson waited for an answer, but all Nathan could do was shake his head. “Thought so.”
This all looked so bad. Nathan groaned silently. If only he could have found Hazel before any of this, if he’d been able to talk to her and explain before the picnic. Now no one would listen to him — not the sheriff, and certainly not Hazel.
Sheriff Thompson put a heavy hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. “Because this is so out of character for you, I’ll let you off with a warning.”
Nathan’s head came up. “Really?”
“But don’t let this happen again.”
“Of course not,” Nathan said with shake of his head. “Never.”
“Good.” The sheriff patted his shoulder and turned to Coltrane, who looked as arrogant and self-assured as ever. “As for you, Mr. Coltrane, where are you staying right now?”
“I have a room at Abby’s Inn.”
“Good. I suggest you go there and cool off for a spell.” The sheriff back up a bit so he could see both men at the same time. “And Nathan, you go cool off at home.”
As if being anywhere under the same roof as Peter would allow him to become anything but more agitated. He nodded acquiescence anyway. “Yes, sir.”
The sheriff nodded and spoke to those holding Coltrane. “Men, would you be so kind as to escort our guest back to his room at Abby’s?”
“Should we stand guard outside his door?” one of them asked.
The sheriff looked straight at Coltrane. “Should they? Or can I trust that this scuffle was a one-time thing, and that the next time I see you in public, it’ll be nothing but gentlemanly behavior?”
“No need for a guard.” Coltrane’s voice dripped like honey. “I’ll behave. I’m ever the gentleman, so long as I don’t have a crazy person attacking me out of the blue.”
Nathan glared at him, teeth clenched, but Coltrane only grinned back. The men jerked Coltrane to the side, and he was forced to follow them back to the street and through town to Abby’s Inn several blocks away. Nathan had no escort or restraints. That said something, didn’t it?
As the crowd began to disperse, the sheriff caught Nathan’s eye and gave him look much like the one his father used to give when order good behavior but threatening a whipping if he didn’t do what he was told. Hands on his belt, the sheriff turned and headed back to the main square.
Soon only Hazel remained. To say that Nathan was relieved that she hadn’t been hurt was the greatest understatement; he wanted to hold her and assure himself that she was in one piece. To assure to that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. He dabbed the back of his hand against the blood from his nose then strode toward Hazel.
“I’m so glad you’re—”
“How dare you?”
Chapter Nine
At first, Nathan wasn’t sure who she was talking to. Had Coltrane escaped his escorts and returned? Nathan quickly looked around but found no one. “Did he hurt you?” he asked, looking Hazel over. He wanted to examine her hands, arms, search for any residual signs left behind by the devilish Coltrane.
“Why did you do that?” Hazel threw her hands into the air with utter frustration.
He felt as if he could do the same in utter confusion. “He was forcing himself on you. I heard you ask him to stop. You—”
“Can you honestly stand there and tell me that you saw and heard everything that happened between me and Wyatt?”
“No.”
“Then you can’t know what happened.”
“I know what I saw. And I know that you raised your voice and told him to stop.”
She folded her arms. “Yes, he got a bit carried away. But he also apologized. You didn’t hear that part, did you?”
No, he hadn’t. He’d rushed in to save Hazel, but maybe she hadn’t needed saving. Maybe the scene had looked far worse than it was.
“And I wanted him to kiss me,” Hazel said.
The words made Nathan feel sick to his stomach. He shook his head, refusing to believe it.
“You heard me right.”
Defeated. That was the only word that could describe him. His arms and legs felt like sacks of sand. He found a nearby stump and dropped to it. The movement crinkled the newsprint in his pocket. If he showed it to her, she’d understand that he had more reason to worry than what he’d witnessed. But would she believe him, when she was so clearly enamored with Coltrane? Nathan lowered his face into his hands and battled a chaotic mix of emotions.
“I’m sorry.” Hazel stood beside him; he hadn’t heard her walk up.
He lifted his face, not sure what he’d see in hers.
“I overreacted.” Hazel gestured toward the stump; he scooted over to make room for her to sit beside him.
“Just let me explain,” he said, grateful that she was near, and, from the looks of it, safe — neither of which had been givens a few minutes ago.
“All right.” Hazel placed her hands in her lap. “Go ahead. Explain.”
And suddenly, Nathan had no idea where to begin. He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed.
“There is an explanation, isn’t there?” Hazel asked.
“Yes. Definitely.” He placed his hands on his knees and jumped in, determined to get it all out. “As you know, I went home after the parade.”
She tilted her head to one side and then the other as if weighing the accuracy of the claim. “Not immediately. You went home after stealing a quarter of my pie.”
“Stealing?” Nathan said, in mock offense. No, he could not afford to be distracted right now. He waved a hand to change the topic. “At home, Peter, of course could tell that I was on edge.”
“Because of Wyatt,” Hazel filled in.
“Because of seeing you and Coltrane acting so intimate and romantic, when you met only a few hours ago, and when I told you that I had a bad feeling about him.”
She turned to face him better and leveled her gaze at him. “Considering our past, you must pardon me if I take such statements from you with a grain of salt.”
“I understand that completely.”
“Wait, you do?” she sounded genuinely surprised.
“Yes.” He turned to face her more full on as well. “So please understand that my concern goes beyond...” He took a breath and let it out. “Our past.”
She rolled her eyes and looked away. “You’re better than this, Nathan.”
“That’s my point.” He reached out to take her arm, but when he touched her, she instinctively yanked away — and then froze, as if her own reflexes had startled her.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” she said quietly, as if half to him, half t
o herself.
Nathan had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why she’d recoiled; she had been restrained by Coltrane against her will, and the experience had unsettled her far more deeply than she’d admitted to him, and probably to herself.
He made sure to keep his voice low and gentle, to not make any sudden moves or to touch her without a clear invitation to do so. “When I went home, I paced the house like a madman.” At this point, he made sure to keep his eyes deflected from hers so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. He had to tell the full story, but doing so left him feeling intensely vulnerable.
“And then what?” she asked with gentle tone that matched his own. He smiled at that. She was trying to bridge the distance between them.
“Then Peter shoved a newspaper into my hands and told me to quit my griping and read.”
Hazel cracked a smile. “Why didn’t he hand you a novel? That would have kept you quiet much longer. Perhaps Bleak House or War and Peace...”
Oh, how he loved that smile and the tint of pink it brought to her cheeks.
“Turns out that the newspaper was the just what I needed.”
She turned to look at him again, brows lifted in curiosity. “How so?”
How to tell the next — worst — part? The part that would explain why he’d attacked Coltrane and why she had to stay away from him?
“I found a sketch of a man who is wanted in several western states, most recently in Colorado, for perpetrating fraud on small towns and for...” Oh, saying the next part was enough to make his heart threaten to tear in two.
“And for what?”
“And for having his way with women after promising marriage, wealth, and a comfortable life.”
Hazel sigh. “And you think the sketch of Coltrane? Did it name him?”
Nathan pulled the rumpled piece of newsprint from his pocket. He unfolded it and held it out to her, tapping at the sketch. “See for yourself. That’s Coltrane.”
She took the paper and studied it but within seconds began shaking her head. “This drawing is so general that it could be of any number of men. And look, this man has a mustache. Wyatt doesn’t.”
