by Stacey Kayne
“I can and I will. If Winifred catches her, we’ve lost.”
“We’ve lost? If this is some kind of vindictive move to get back at Winifred, I won’t let you use Cora Mae. She doesn’t deserve it. What’s it gonna take to convince you she’s nothing like her mother?”
“I know that! Why do you think I want to marry her?”
“How the hell should I know? Your attitude toward her these past weeks hasn’t led me to believe you have a fancy for big-boned women and flaming red—”
“One more insult,” Chance growled, his hands fisting at his sides.
“I’m not insulting her. I was just saying—”
“I know what you were saying! There isn’t a damn thing wrong with Cora’s shape or hair color. I happen to think she’s perfect and damn attractive just the way she is!”
Tucker stood in stunned silence as his brother’s boisterous admission echoed through the barn.
“I want to marry her!”
“You do?”
“I might as well,” he grumbled. “I can’t sleep for thinking about her. She just…she…”
“Let me guess. She becomes more beautiful by the second, consuming your thoughts until she’s all you see, eyes open or shut?”
The sheer misery in his twin’s expression answered Tucker’s question. “Holy hell,” Tuck said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it. You’re in love with Cora Mae.”
“I never said that.”
“If you plan to marry her, you’d better get used to saying it. I do believe proclamations of love are words most women want to hear on their wedding night.”
“Like you said to Skylar on your wedding night?”
“Go ahead and take shots if it’ll make you feel better. But like you, I was too damn scared to tell Skylar I loved her when I should have. I’ve since wised up. I love my wife. I don’t have any qualms about telling her so. In fact, I make a point of it.”
“Not all folks gush like the two of you.”
“True,” agreed Tucker. “Just the lucky ones.”
Chance glanced up at his twin, pain pulling at his chest. He’d never had Tucker’s dumb luck. Or maybe he’d just been too blind to see his good fortune when it was staring him right in the face, kissing him into oblivion.
How could he convince Cora Mae?
He didn’t have a clue, but he’d damn well try.
“Don’t let the preacher leave,” he said as he swung into his saddle. “I’m bringing her back.”
Chapter Sixteen
T he horse had thrown her. Chance spotted two patches of ground where the horse’s hooves had dug in, sending its rider into the dirt and scrub. What had she been thinking? Riding out on a half-wild horse. She’d certainly taken his direction literally, practically making a beeline straight up the mountain. Unfortunately, he’d given an accurate description of Maggie’s location.
A quarter of a mile from Mag’s cabin, a second set of tracks joined Cora Mae’s. He wasn’t sure if he should hope they were Mag’s, or someone else’s. When both sets of tracks disappeared fifty paces later, he knew Cora Mae had found Mag, or more likely, Mag had found Cora Mae. The mountain shrew had done a fine job of covering their trail, but Chance didn’t need any hoofprints to find his way up to her place.
A hundred yards from her cabin, the double click of gun hammers stopped him cold, just before a cool feminine voice sounded from the scrub behind him.
“Lose something, Morgan?”
Chance held his hands out, not doubting the threat in her easy voice. “You ever thought about giving a proper hello?”
“And give you the advantage? Why, no. I’m not inclined to give any kind of greeting to a man who can’t keep his word.”
He glanced back slowly and spotted her crouched on a boulder, a shotgun trained on him. Her tan hat and jacket were decent camouflage against the rock and scrub. She held the long gun with an ease that told him it wouldn’t take more than a reflex for her to fill him full of buckshot.
“She’s the only one, Maggie. And I didn’t tell her everything.”
“Enough for her to march right up to my door, asking directions like I’m some damn trail guide!” She lowered her gun. Her crisp blue eyes sparked with anger. “How did you think I’d greet that?”
“Maggie?”
She swatted tangled strands of black hair away from her pale cheek as though suddenly bothered by it. “You think I want some woman flouncing around these parts spreading gossip about me?”
“Where is she?”
“Devil if I care. You’re the one who cut her loose.”
“If I’d have known—”
“Exactly! Arrogant bastards, all of you. Always thinking the world will bend to your will. You gave Cora information you had no business revealing because you didn’t think she’d have the sand to use it.”
“Wrong. I knew she’d never use it against you.”
“So now you decide who I should trust and who I shouldn’t?”
“I just want Cora.”
“Yeah, well you can want in one hand and sh—”
“Damn it, Mag! Where is she!”
Maggie rocked back on the heels of her boots, seeming to ponder whether or not she should tell him. “That bay’s got fine lines,” she said, her gaze moving over his horse. “Want to sell her?”
His jaw popped beneath the strain of his clenched teeth. “Maggie.”
“I left her inside my cabin so she could tend her wounds.”
“What wounds?”
“Don’t you glare at me! That gnashing bastard she was riding tore her up a bit.”
“Thanks, Mag,” he said, spurring his horse. “I owe you!”
“Damn right you do!”
The rotted wood hovel Maggie called a home looked like a haven as Chance reined in and stepped down from his saddle. The bark-covered door squeaked as he pushed it open.
Cora Mae sat on a bed against the side wall in a cabin no bigger than his kitchen. She pushed her skirt down and glanced up through a wild mess of curls. A bowl of water sat on the bed beside her. She held a blood-stained rag. Chance’s gaze locked on her ripped gray skirt coated with dirt and thorns. He could only imagine the condition of the delicate skin beneath.
“My God. You wanted to get away from me that badly?”
The stark fear in her eyes kept him lingering in the doorway when he would have gone to her.
“Why are you afraid of me?”
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” she seethed.
Cora looked down at the snags and ground-in dirt on her skirt and silently cursed the unruly horse that had sent her crashing to the ground.
“I should whip that horse,” he said, crouching before her.
“It wasn’t the horse’s fault.”
“You’re right. I should be whipped for driving you to do something so foolish.”
“Chance—”
“I’m sorry for being short with you, Cora Mae, but I’m not the man who raped you.”
“I know that!”
“Then let me help you,” he said, reaching for her skirt. “You know I won’t hurt you.”
“But you do.”
His finger released the gray wool. “How? How do I hurt you?”
“In ways I can’t even explain.”
“I’m not trying to.”
Tears hazed her vision as she shook her head. “I don’t have any defenses with you.”
“I think we’re even in that respect.” A smile touched his lips. “Let me help you.”
“It’s just some scrapes. I’ve already cleaned them.”
“Can I see?”
She held his gaze for a long moment before nodding. Her breath stalled as he nudged her skirt up, revealing her torn black stockings and scraped knees.
“What do your hands look like?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Reflectively, she curled her fingers into her s
craped palms. She’d already picked out the stickers and gravel.
“Cora Mae?”
Biting her lower lip, she held out her hands.
His eyes flinched at the sight of her bloodied palms. “Anything else hurt?”
Touched by the pain so clear in his eyes, she shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.
Chance blew out a breath. “Thank God.” His hands slid around her hips as he fell forward, shocking her as he dropped his head to her lap, hugging her tight in the same motion. “If I ever do anything that stupid again, don’t run. Promise you’ll rage at me.”
Unable to deny herself, Cora slid her fingers into the golden hair curling up from his collar and shared his tremors as she leaned in to kiss the golden crown of his head. “Okay.”
He eased back, his green eyes shimmering with moisture. “Can I sit beside you?”
Hardly able to breathe, she gave another nod.
He moved onto the bed. His arm slid around her. His hip pressed tight against hers, and his long legs maneuvered them back on the bed until he could recline against the wall, inadvertently lifting her feet off the floor.
As if realizing the dominating move, his lips tipped into a wry smile.
“Sorry. I’m just exhausted.”
Cora smiled too and leaned against him, not minding his weight and warmth. Being crushed against his side was rather soothing. “So am I.”
“You’ve got to forgive me, Cora,” he said after a time.
“For what? I’m the one who arrived uninvited, who lied to you.”
“I haven’t treated you as I should have.”
“I understand that I’ve been a disruption to your life.”
“I don’t want to lose you. Please stay.”
She stared up at him, knowing they’d reached an impasse. And now was the time for truths. “I can’t. I’m afraid of the way you make me feel,” she admitted.
His laughter surprised her. “So am I,” he said.
“You don’t really want to marry me.”
“Yes, I do. The fact is, I think you’re ten kinds of wonderful.”
That stunned her.
“You’re partial to me, aren’t you?”
“Wanting to kiss you isn’t a reason to marry,” she said, flustered by the rush of warmth in her cheeks, and other places.
“It’s a good start.”
“Chance!”
“Well, it is,” he insisted. He lifted her hand from her lap and pressed her palm to his chest. “Feel that?”
How could she not? His heart was doing its best to pound out of his chest, the same as her own.
“You do that to me. The sight of you, the thought of you—”
His words added to the rush of sensation flooding her body. “Chance, stop.” She pulled her hand away.
“Don’t you think I’ve tried? Hell, I was prepared to court Salina to try and get you off my mind!”
Tears slid hotly across her cheeks. She’d been ready to let him.
His hands framed her face, his thumbs brushing away the wet trail and setting off a rush of shivers. “I’m crazy about you.”
The rich timbre of Chance’s voice moved through her like a lulling caress. “You make me want to believe you.”
“It’s true. Your mother’s the one who told you lies, Cora Mae.”
“She was unkind, but I am quite aware of my shortcomings. I only wish to live a life where they didn’t much matter.”
“What shortcomings?”
She rolled her eyes and looked away from him. “Do you think she’s the only one who’s made disdainful comments about my hair color or referred to me as having a sturdy build?”
“Not every woman is meant to have the shape of a riding crop.”
A frown tugged at her lips. “Yes, I know.”
“I happen to find every smooth curve of your body damn appealing. In fact, I’ve never been more attracted to a woman in my life.”
Oh, Lord. She couldn’t catch her breath.
“And I love your hair color.” He slid his fingers through a mass of curls. “Reminds me of fall leaves. Did you know fall is my favorite time of year?”
“Yes.”
His grin widened. The hand resting on her hip slid up to the curve at her waist, then slowly back down, leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. “Glad I’m not the only one taking notice. You do fancy me, don’t you?”
“You’re not short on admirers, Chance. The women in town were practically jumping into your pocket.”
The warm rumble of his laughter intensified the bursts of heat caused by his words and his touch.
“Marry me. I won’t hurt you, Cora Mae. I promise. You trust me to keep my promises, don’t you?”
She knew now it wasn’t Chance who hadn’t kept his promise, but her mother who’d kept her away from him. Even after she’d lied about her mother, Chance had kept his promise. He’d stood by her. “I trust you.”
“Marry me.”
His gaze implored her for an answer, but she didn’t have one. The clash of attraction and emotion only added to her confusion.
His fingers brushed her cheek in a light caress. “Would it be all right if I kissed you?”
Loving that he had asked permission, a smile eased across her lips. “I…suppose.”
Her breath stalled as he leaned closer. His lips brushed lightly against hers, once, then twice. She trembled as the tip of his tongue glided across her lower lip.
She reached up, wanting to feel the pressure of his mouth, the demand of his tongue, the shimmering bursts of heat breaking through her, burning away the rest of the world.
He gave it to her, melding his mouth to hers, his fingers moving tenderly through her hair, against her back.
She loved being lost in the stir of sensation he made her feel.
Startled by the realization she pulled back, breaking the kiss.
Chance didn’t seem offended by her sudden retreat. He didn’t release his hold on her, but watched her with patient green eyes.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said.
“What does your heart say?”
She loved him, but she’d always loved him. That didn’t mean she wanted to marry him. “I never intended to marry.”
“Me, neither.” He kissed her forehead. “Yet here I am, begging you to be my bride.”
“We could have the marriage annulled after Mother leaves.”
“No.”
His instant denial surprised her. “Why not?”
“I’m asking you to stand with me before God and our family. If I say those vows, I intend to keep them.”
Yes, he would, she thought. “You wouldn’t want t-to—”
“I want you until I can barely stand for the thought of having you.”
A combination of fear and fascination flooded Cora’s body.
“But I won’t take you, Cora. Not until you ask me to, plain as day. You have my word on that.”
His fingers brushed a tangle of stray curls away from her face as he traced her jaw, making her tremble.
“I could have you buck-naked on top of me,” he said, “and I’d still stop if you asked me to.”
Cora felt her mouth drop open.
“Want me to prove it?”
His mischievous grin made her smile despite her distress. “No!” He’d just proven he could easily make her want him.
“Can you tell me what happened? What he did to you?”
She shook her head. She didn’t want to remember the humiliation, or her own ignorance. “I should never have gone back,” she said, glancing down at her lap. “She sent Mr. Grissom to Massachusetts to bring me home. I had hoped…” A sigh of regret broke from her chest. “Foolishness.”
Chance’s arm tightened around her shoulders. His lips brushed over her hair. She closed her eyes and let his warmth wash away the chill beneath her skin.
“Hope isn’t foolish, Cora Mae.”
“Perhaps not, but I was. I should have run th
en.”
But she hadn’t. She’d been caught up in the promise of attending a family ball, the chance to be included. Cora didn’t lack social graces, she only needed a chance to prove herself. But once again, her mother had lied. She hadn’t intended to present her to the family—she’d intended to announce nothing short of a family investment. The Tindales wanted ties to a Scottish nobleman, and she’d been the bartering tool.
“I never suspected. Even while she kept me locked up in that house for weeks, I never dreamed…I couldn’t have imagined her intentions. She said there was to be a family ball. Family I’d been unfit to be around all my life. I was to tell them I’d been off teaching at a women’s college. Imagine the scandal if they knew a Tindale had been a common mill worker?”
“They believed you’d been off at a college?”
“I never got to see them. It was the night before the event.”
“He attacked you?”
Tears pricked her eyes.
“Cora Mae?”
“He came to my room,” she said.
“Did you call for help?”
“Would it have mattered? The Tindale estate is enormous with too many servants to know them by name. Besides, who answers the cry of a prisoner?”
“No one,” Chance said, pulling her close.
She didn’t resist, but rested her head on his chest as she curled into his warmth, needing his comfort. “I had no reason to be on guard. My bedroom door was locked, bolted from the outside, as it had been since I’d arrived. To benefit me, of course. Mother didn’t want me ‘sneaking food from the kitchen and puffing up like a toad.’”
“How did he get in?”
She didn’t want to believe the truth that had haunted her for two months. “I woke to a great weight bearing down on me, the smell of bourbon in my face. Before I could register what was happening, the pain of it stole my breath.”
She shuddered at the memory.
“I’m sorry, Cora Mae.”
“It was over as quickly as it had begun. He spoke as he pushed off of me, though I didn’t make out the words. But as he left my room, I heard her. She had been just outside the door.”
A haze of tears slid from her eyes as her mother’s voice played in her mind. I trust our bargain is sealed?
