She had to go on. She had to be civil to him, more than civil. She had to make him think the past didn’t matter to her any longer. And she had to make sure he didn’t kiss her again.
Chapter Twelve
Hope was already up, frying bacon in the black iron skillet when Chase and Joey emerged from their tent Saturday morning. She had done her best to clean up, washing her face and hands in water they had brought, but she still felt grubby and ill kempt. It didn’t matter that she had tied her hair back with a neat ribbon, or put on clean clothes. She wanted her usual morning shower, with plenty of soap and shampoo and water for rinsing.
She also wanted a reprieve from the sexy, indomitable Chase.
“Good morning,” he said in a careful, neutral tone.
He’s thinking about the way we kissed, too, Hope realized uncomfortably, working hard to hide a blush. “Morning.” Keeping her eyes on her task, Hope lifted the crisp bacon from the pan and broke eggs into the skillet.
“Biscuits, too?” Joey asked, looking at a square metal pan on the other side of the grill.
“You bet,” Hope told her son cheerfully.
Chase headed for the supply chest, his expression remote. “I’ll put some coffee on,” he offered, keeping his back to Hope.
“And I’ll make the powdered orange juice,” Joey said, noticing nothing amiss between the two adults.
Thanks mostly to her son’s nonstop chattering, breakfast was easy enough. Immediately afterward, they did the dishes and then set off on a nature hike. Chase took the lead, Hope the rear. The conversation was dominated by a barrage of curious questions from her son. Joey listened raptly as Chase pointed out types of flowers and explained to Joey how the forest they were in was different from the rain forests he liked to explore.
“I wish I could go with you, to see a rain forest,” Joey said wistfully, after a while.
Chase grinned and placed his hand on Joey’s shoulder. “Tell you what,” he promised warmly. “If you still want to go when you’re grown up, I’ll take you.”
Joey absorbed that news happily, but for Hope, the conversation just served to remind her how soon Chase would be leaving again. Last night, in a brief moment of passion, she had allowed herself to forget all the things that kept them apart. She’d been drawn into his spell. She couldn’t allow herself to make that mistake again. Joey needed a full-time father. Maybe it was corny and unliberated, but she wanted to be married again. She wanted a husband to live with and love. It would have to be someone who wouldn’t badger her with questions about the past, or make her feel disloyal to Edmond in the bargain. That just wasn’t Chase, she realized sadly.
“Poor kid,” Chase said later that evening, after he and Hope had tucked Joey in. “I think we’ve worn him out.”
“No wonder, with the hiking this morning and the canoeing this afternoon.” She’d hardly had time to catch her breath, either, which perhaps was also for the best.
Chase got up to pour himself some more coffee from the battered metal pot. “Don’t forget our mutual hair washing in a basin this afternoon. He enjoyed that, too.”
So had Hope. Despite her pique with Chase, there had been something very sensual about having Chase rinse her hair after she had washed it. Forcing her mind back to the practical, she commented, “I was surprised you brought shampoo.”
His eyes met hers over the rim of his cup. “I would have dragged it out first thing this morning had it been warm enough.” Instead, baths had been relegated to late afternoon, when it was the warmest, and carried out individually within the privacy of the tents.
Hope had to admit she did feel better now that her hair was clean again. Chase’s blond locks weren’t too shabby, either. Soft and clean, they gleamed gold in the firelight. “Is that what you do when you’re in the rain forest?”
Chase nodded. “Generally, yeah, we get by on hand baths and wash our hair in a basin. At least here we were able to get our water from a pump. Out there we have to carry it in buckets and sterilize it.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“It is.”
Hope studied him curiously. “How do you stand it?”
He shrugged noncommittally, his eyes still holding hers. “It’s for a good cause.” He paused as if that said it all, then shrugged. “Joey didn’t seem to mind the hardship.”
“No, he didn’t.” Hope smiled. “In fact, I’m sure he’ll remember this trip for the rest of his life.” As will I, she thought. She felt a little sad, for Joey’s sake, because such a trip wasn’t likely to be repeated anytime soon. Determined to keep her own thoughts from turning maudlin, she put her coffee cup to her lips. The brew had cooled to lukewarm, but she sipped it anyway, to keep her mind off Chase and the possible repeat of last night’s kiss.
The awkward silence between them continued. It was only nine-thirty. Neither of them were sleepy enough to head for the tents. With no television or radio, they had nothing else to do but talk. “It’s peaceful here,” Chase said.
“Yes.” Hope plucked at the crease on her Liz Claiborne jeans. Although fresh from the laundry this morning, they were now speckled with mud and grass stains. Still, Chase continued to look at her as if she were clad in the most resplendent of evening gowns.
“Nothing like being out under an open sky.”
His attempts to make small talk were turning deliberately comical. Hope shot him a droll look. “Yes,” she agreed.
“But you’re not thinking about how nice it is to be here,” he continued, baiting her.
“No?” she asked. No, she was hoping he wouldn’t try to kiss her again.
“No,” he drawled, looking very smug. His teasing demeanor was breaking the tension that had built between them all day and intensified sharply once they found themselves alone. “You’re still thinking about how tiresome it was to wash up before dinner in that little washbasin in the tent. You’re wishing you had a way to shower and watch TV—”
“Now wait a minute,” Hope countered. She wasn’t about to be pigeonholed as some citified prima donna. After all, she had done without a lot of things as a kid and still turned out nicely. “I like the peace and quiet out here.”
He mulled that over. “Well, you’ve got a point. No one from Barrister’s can bother you way out here.”
Nor could Russell. But she didn’t want to think about that. Nor did she want Chase asking her anything personal again, so she said, “Tell me more about your research.”
“What’s to tell?”
That you’re tired of it, she wished fervently, that you don’t want to do it anymore, and that you want to stay here in the States and be closer to me and to Joey. “Do you really think you’re going to find cures out there?” she asked, managing to keep her tone noncommittal with effort.
He shrugged, promising nothing. “I’ve only been at it a couple of years but already we’ve come very close to finding a possible new treatment for arthritis.” He paused reflectively. “It’s strange, visiting with people from such different cultures. There’s so much that’s different, and so much the same. Families are still families. People still love each other and fight and make up.”
As she watched the play of emotions on his face, she sensed he was talking about more than just different cultures here. “Do you regret not patching things up better between you and your dad before he died?”
A flicker of pain moved across his face. Chase nodded. His eyes on hers, he said with that trademark honesty of his, “Yeah, I do. I regret it all the time.” His voice roughened and he shook his head in obvious regret. “Looking back, it all seems so senseless. If I’d only gone to him and talked to him—but I didn’t. Instead I avoided him like the plague. In essence, I ruined what could have been the best years of our lives together.”
“Is that why you’re spending so much time with Joey?” she asked quietly. “To make it up to Edmond?”
He looked her straight in the eye. “Maybe. In the beginning. I do it now because I’m fon
d of him.” He gauged her reaction carefully. “Is that okay with you?”
Feeling the conversation had once again turned too intimate for comfort, she got up to pour herself more of his industrial-strength coffee. “Why wouldn’t it be okay with me? Unless, of course, you insist that his next camping trip be in the rain forest.”
Chase grinned. “Wimping out on me?”
“You bet.” Hope resumed her seat. “I have no desire whatsoever to be out with the snakes and the scorpions and the tarantulas.”
“There are snakes and scorpions and tarantulas around here, too,” he pointed out knowingly. “I haven’t noticed you being bothered by them. Or did I miss you screaming hysterically at some point?”
“Very funny,” Hope said.
Chase merely lifted a brow. Suddenly, she knew he wasn’t teasing, that he had seen and ignored what she hadn’t even bothered to look for. She looked around nervously, then got up to move restlessly around the campfire. A shiver moved down her spine and she tucked her hand in the pocket of her jeans. She looked back at where she had been sitting. Was that her imagination or was there a spider hanging from a nearby tree?
She took another step and nearly tripped over Chase’s outstretched leg. He reached up to catch her. “Hey,” he said softly, his skin warm where it was pressed against hers, “I didn’t mean to upset you. You’re not in any danger.”
“I know.” That didn’t change the fact that this was a natural setting; there were crawly things out there. Hope had lived on farms long enough to know that was true. She shuddered again, feeling nervous and on edge. Deciding she was behaving like a fool, she sat down next to Chase, thought she felt something crawling up her back and immediately got back up again.
Chase stood, too. “You really are jumpy tonight.”
She lifted her chin and enunciated plainly, “Not at all.”
He grinned, taunting openly, “Liar.”
She blushed and her eyes still on his, held her ground. Reminded of the previous night’s embrace, she felt an answering wave of desire. You’re not going to kiss him again, she told herself firmly. You know it wouldn’t be wise. But she wanted to kiss him. Very much. It didn’t matter he was her stepson.
Suddenly Chase stepped back. “You really hate it out here, don’t you?” Chase slid a marshmallow onto the pointed end of a stick. He sat again and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He aimed the stick in the direction of the flames and held it there.
Hope lifted her shoulders expressively. “Hate’s a strong word, but yes, you’re right, I do despise the lack of facilities.” She met his gaze equably.
“Why?” The end of his marshmallow began to smoke. He lifted it quickly, and turned it so the uncooked edge was down, facing the flames.
Hope reached for a marshmallow, trying not to let unhappy memories get her down. She poked it on the end of her long-handled cooking fork and positioned it a good distance from his. “Maybe because this reminds me of some of the places we lived while I was growing up. Places without central heat or air or even indoor plumbing.”
Chase leaned back against the log behind him and studied Hope. Having met her mother, he realized what a tough time she’d had growing up. It surprised him she had turned out as well adjusted as she had. So many would have become bitter or selfish. She was neither of those things. She was a very loving mother, who was extremely sensitive to her son’s needs. And to his, too, if he were honest. Today she had gone out of her way to make sure he felt comfortable around her. He appreciated her willingness to try to get along, and his mingled feelings of respect and gratitude had intensified as the day wore on. Now he found himself almost behaving normally again. Still, there was that edge of tension and unresolved conflict between them, and that edge of passion. He knew it could flare quickly out of control.
“But I suppose I’ll have to get used to roughing it for Joey’s sake,” Hope continued in a deliberate, conversational tone. She turned her toasting marshmallow so it would brown evenly.
“Joey has liked it, especially the fishing this afternoon.”
“I know.” Hope ruminated softly, sending him a genuinely grateful look. “I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time.”
Chase grinned. Unable to resist, he teased, “Macho activity will do that for a guy.”
At the exaggerated authority in his voice, Hope rolled her eyes. “Only a man would consider living without every conceivable luxury having a good time, Chase.” Having lived this way because she had to, she saw no reason to seek it out. Then again, maybe that was precisely the appeal for Chase, Hope thought. He wanted a change of pace from the luxuriant way he’d grown up. He wanted simplicity. She wanted comfort.
She went to the supplies and brought back a container of graham crackers and an unopened box of Hershey bars.
Chase watched as she made herself a S’more. Earlier in the day, she had still looked tense, despite her deliberately buoyant mood. The lines in her face had softened as the hours had passed. Now, with her hair drawn into a beribboned ponytail at the back of her neck, and her face framed in the gentle light of the campfire, she was more beautiful than ever. He felt an ache start deep inside him. It was an ache that had to be quenched, not by activity, but by diversion, he decided firmly.
“Joey’s not the only one with a good appetite,” he teased. Moving to sit beside her, he reached for the graham crackers and chocolate. If he were busy eating, he wouldn’t be so aware of her. Unfortunately, as he moved, the marshmallow he had so carefully roasted slipped off the end of his stick and landed in the dirt. He swore, roundly. Hope giggled at the distressed expression on his face.
“Don’t laugh,” he warned soberly. He slanted her a quelling look, “It might happen to you next.”
“I don’t think so,” Hope said loftily.
“Why not?”
“Because I know how to hold on to what I have,” she continued grandly. The playful words were out before she could think. Too late, she realized her bald statement could be construed to include her position and power at Barrister’s, her child, or the lovely River Oaks home Edmond had left her. It was true though. She would fight to the last breath to hold on to what was hers.
“I guess you do at that,” Chase replied softly.
She couldn’t tell if he approved of that or not; she only knew a rapid change of subject was in order. “Back to Joey, though,” she continued, steadying her voice with effort, trying hard not to be so aware of the thoughtful look in Chase’s hazel eyes, “I had expected him to be having an asthmatic episode by now.”
At the mention of her son, Chase exhaled slowly. “I half expected it, too,” he admitted, frowning. “I’m glad he hasn’t run into any triggers out here.”
“So far,” she added cautiously, almost afraid to hope.
He studied her, looking serious and concerned. “When exactly did you find out about Joey’s asthma?” Chase asked softly. He leaned forward to stir the fire. “I remember Dad telling me,” he said. “I just can’t recall any of the details. It’s been so long.”
Nor would he have wanted to recall them, considering how he had distanced himself from his father’s new family, Hope thought. But perhaps that, too, was understandable. It would be hard for any guy to see his father start his life over again, just as he himself reached adulthood.
Wrapping her arms around her bent knees to ward off the chill of the night, she answered Chase’s question in a quiet, reflective voice, “It was when he was four. He had a cold he just couldn’t seem to recover from. He eventually ended up in the hospital because he was having trouble breathing. That’s when he was diagnosed.” She closed her eyes, unwillingly remembering that stressful, fear-filled time. “At first I kept thinking there had to be a mistake.” She met Chase’s eyes and saw he not only understood but empathized with her denial. “But our doctor helped us understand what to do.” She released a long breath. “That was the easy part. The hard part has been dealing with other people’s reactions
to him. Sometimes kids are so cruel.”
“Like the Bateman twins,” Chase empathized softly.
“And their father,” Hope added.
Not wanting to talk about that, she got up and carried the bag of marshmallows back to the metal supply chest in the truck. Chase followed her. “I’m sorry,” he said penitently, from behind her. “I didn’t mean to upset you, bringing that up.”
“You didn’t,” Hope reassured. It was just that talking with Chase this way made her feel so vulnerable and close to him. That disturbed her. She wanted to see him as Edmond’s son. She didn’t want to be attracted to him. She didn’t want to yearn to reach out to him or feel as if she was under his spell.
“This trip wasn’t just for Joey, you know,” Chase said gruffly.
“I wanted you to have a good time, too. I know how much stress you’ve been under. And—” he took a deep, ragged breath, as if it pained him to admit it “—I know I’ve been the cause of part of it.” Apology radiated in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Most of all, he thought, he was sorry for the way he’d come on to her the previous night.
Caught off guard, Hope flushed. Was he talking about her work at Barrister’s? Or was he really talking about the passionate way he had kissed her? “Chase, you don’t have to apologize—”
“I think I do,” he said gruffly. “So, will you forgive me for going to see your mother?” And for kissing you the way I did, with no holds barred, as if you had never been married to my father.
Twenty-four hours before, Hope hadn’t thought it possible. Now, having spent the day with him, she knew it was. “I think it’s already happened,” she said shyly. But for Joey’s sake and her own peace of mind, she intended to hang onto this unofficial truce they had called. Anything was better than risking another angry flare-up between them, or worse, another ardent kiss.
Tangled Web Page 19
