Tangled Web (16 page)

Chase glanced up, his dark blond brows lifting a disgruntled notch.

Hope's chest tightened, making it harder to draw a breath. “She wondered why you hadn't come to the office today.”

“What'd you tell her?”

Nothing that had satisfied her, Hope thought. Both hands still clenching the handle, Hope held her briefcase in front of her knees like a shield. “Only that I hadn't seen you since early yesterday morning.” I neglected to mention you were out all night and this morning, she thought.

“And?” Chase looked at her expectantly.

Hope shrugged and shifted her briefcase unnecessarily, glad she had something solid to hang on to. “That seemed to satisfy her.”
Her gaze lingered on his and she admitted to herself she understood Rosemary's actions in this regard. Hope was as hungry for information as to his previous whereabouts as his mother seemed to be. “But she still wanted to know if I knew where you were,” Hope continued flatly.

“And you didn't.”

“No.” Hope paused. One adult to another, she felt Chase was entitled to a private life. No questions asked, no answers given. Nevertheless, his absence had unnerved her. He had left the office rather suddenly, without explaining to anyone where he was going. He'd been out all night, he hadn't bothered to go to the office, and hadn't called. Prior to this, he had seemed interested in helping her get Barrister's back on an even keel. His disinterest was all too reminiscent of the Chase she had known in the past, the Chase that wanted no part of his father's legacy. That being the case, she'd begun to wonder if he had changed his mind about the camping trip and his commitment to helping her and Joey as well.

It was a relief to find him here again, busy packing up camping gear. Still, she was surprised by the tumultuous depth of her feelings. She wasn't used to being concerned about the nocturnal comings and going of any man, especially her stepson. So what if he had stayed out all night? It wasn't her concern.

Chase stood slowly and wiped off his hands with a rag. Tell her, an inner voice demanded. Tell her and get it over with. Don't start this trip with a lie between you. Deciding to get it all out in the open, he rubbed his hand over the aching muscles in his neck and said, “There's something we need to talk about.”

This sounded ominous, Hope thought, reading his reluctant expression. “Okay,” she said.

“Not here,” Chase said. “Somewhere private. The sun room?”

Hope nodded her agreement. Aware of him close behind her, she led the way. They didn't speak again until they were ensconced in the glass-walled room, with the spring sunlight streaming in around them. Chase gestured to one of the wicker chairs and she sank obediently into the plump floral cushions.

“There's no easy way to say this,” he began, “so I'm just going to say it right out. My mother found out you've been meeting with Russell Morris.” Chase watched as all color promptly drained from Hope's face. Forcing himself to go on, he said, “She told
me yesterday she was going to hire a private investigator to dig into your past and find out what went on between the two of you.”

Hope remained very still, looking both sickened and angry.

Chase rushed on, his brusque voice giving no clue as to the inner turmoil he felt. “I didn't want anyone nosing around in your business. So I offered to do it for her.”

Hope bolted from her chair. She glared at him incredulously. “And now what, Chase? Am I supposed to thank you for this?”

Maybe, Chase thought, when you've had time to think about it, you'll want to do just that. “Right now I just want you to listen.” She spun around. He caught her arm, preventing her escape. She wasn't leaving until she had heard him out. “Hope, I talked to your mother yesterday. That's where I was.”

“Why?” she whispered. “Why would you do such a thing to me?”

“Because I didn't want to see you hurt,” he said gruffly. “We both know anything Rosemary learned would be used against you.”

She took a moment to contemplate that, then asked woodenly, with mute terror on her face, “What did you learn?”

Studying her, Chase wondered what it was she didn't want him to know. He answered her in a soft, compassionate voice. “I learned that you must have had a very unhappy childhood.”
That you weren't loved.
“I'm sorry, Hope.” Aware of her closeness and his ardent reaction to it, he swallowed and let her go. “I'm sorry if I hurt you but I had to do what I felt was best.”

Distressed, she ran a hand through her upswept hair, the careless motion knocking down a third of the elaborately pinned dark strands. “You said you saw my mother?” she repeated, as if in shock. “What did she say about me?” Hope took a tiny breath and after a moment dared to look at him. “About Russell.”

Chase shrugged, more aware than ever of how little information he had gotten out of Louise. And how much more he still wanted to know about Hope, how much he wanted her to feel she could confide in him. “She didn't want to talk about it. She seemed very bitter.”

Briefly Hope seemed to relax. She sighed and shook her head in mute regret. “She always was,” she admitted softly, her huge eyes glimmering with an inner sadness that made his own heart
ache. Hope looked up, searching his face. “What are you going to tell your mother?”

Chase held her insistent gaze honestly. “That there was nothing to find out,” he said. “That you dated Russell briefly and were, from what little I could discern, considered out of his league socially and monetarily. It ended. Your family left the area.”

Hope's mouth twisted bitterly. “She told you they got kicked off the tenant farm because of me, didn't she?”

Yes, Chase thought, she had. And their anger at Hope over that seemed out of proportion for what she'd done. The Curtises had moved frequently anyway. Moving again shouldn't have been such a big deal to them, even if Hope's brief dating relationship with Russell were the reason. It shouldn't have prompted them to
permanently
disown Hope. Something more had to have gone on. The question was what. Did it have anything to do with the “scheme” Louise had hinted at, or with her estimation of Hope's need from an early age to have more than they could give her? He had never been poor, so he couldn't really imagine what it must be like to grow up that way, but right now, Hope looked more victim than perpetrator, and that puzzled him, too.

Hope buried her face in her hands and took a deep, ragged breath. “They never forgave me for that, either of them.” Her voice broke. “I don't think they ever will.”

Wanting only to comfort her, Chase moved forward and took her in his arms. Where she had swept her hand through her hair, it was falling down in loose, unkempt strands around her pale face. Her eyes were huge and wet…and angry.

“Damn you,” she whispered hoarsely. “Damn you for dredging this all up.” As if unable to bear the sight of him, she wrenched herself out of his arms. She moved away from him and stood with her arms clenched tightly at her waist. She stared out at the lawn. Uniformed men were cutting and trimming and sweeping away the last remnants of winter.

“Hope—” Chase began. Jaw set, she whirled to face him. And suddenly he couldn't go on. He didn't know what else to say that would make her understand, not now, not when she was still so upset and angry. “About the camping trip—”

Hope glanced at her watch. She expelled a weary breath. “We'll go,” she said tersely, lifting her gaze to his. “We promised him.
And he's already been through too much to even consider reneging on that promise.”

But that was the only reason she was still going with him. She'd made that very clear, Chase realized, disappointed. The only reason.

“Hand me the hammer please, will you, Mom?” Joey asked.

Hope picked it up and walked over to where Joey was kneeling beside the half-erected tent. The trip she had been looking forward to had turned out to be agony; she tried to keep her tumultuous emotions hidden from her son. Fortunately he was so hyped up about the fact they were actually going to rough it at long last, he hadn't noticed much of anything except the beauty of the rolling central Texas countryside and the tall fragrant pines that populated much of the Bastrop area. Chase shot her a concerned look from time to time when Joey wasn't looking, but he had disguised whatever he was feeling as well. He was some trooper, her Chase. He was able to go behind her back one moment, and then be her and her son's camping buddy the next. She didn't know how he felt but she was so mixed up she could hardly see straight.

“Pull that rope a little tighter before we stake it.” Chase instructed her son genially from the other side of the tent, where he, too was, holding on to a couple of stakes.

“Okay.” His glasses falling askew on his nose, Joey yanked on the rope, pulling it as tight as he was able.

“Now, Hope, set that stake at an angle and hammer it down firmly into the ground,” Chase continued.

Their eyes met and again she felt that sharp sense of betrayal. She didn't know who he was or what he was thinking or feeling. And though part of her wanted to know everything, the other part of her wanted only to be kept in the dark, away from any further hurt.

I can get through this, Hope told herself firmly. I just have to
concentrate on setting up the campsite. That was much easier if she didn't look at Chase directly, or let him get a good look at her. Feeling like a fish out of water, Hope knelt and did exactly as Chase instructed.

Chase gave her and Joey a grin of approval when she'd finished. “Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?” he asked.

“Nope, it was easy!” Joey said. He turned to Hope and gave her an impulsive hug. “Thanks for letting me go camping, Mom,” he said.

Hope hugged her son back tightly. It did her heart good to see him so happy. Right now she needed a hug, too. “You're welcome,” she said.

“And thanks for talking her into it,” Joey continued, coming forward to embrace Chase in an awkward hug. Chase put his arms around Joey, too. It was the first time Chase had ever embraced his half brother.

Hope turned away. She didn't want to see the two of them becoming closer. Not now. Not when it was all about to come tumbling down. She had known from the beginning that Rosemary would be a threat to her. She just hadn't wanted to think about that threat becoming a reality. And she hadn't wanted Chase to be unwittingly drawn into the mess she had once made of her life. But it was happening, and as hard as she was trying to keep the situation under control, she was powerless, it seemed, to prevent her past from slowly unraveling and from becoming Joey's nightmare…

“What's the other tent for?” Joey asked curiously, when Chase began unrolling the second aqua canvas.

“Your mom.” Chase glanced at Hope as if to gauge her reaction to that.

She blushed with a mixture of apprehension and embarrassment. She was suddenly acutely aware that in their rush to go camping they hadn't discussed sleeping arrangements once.

His eyes on hers, Chase continued matter-of-factly, “I figured she'd want a little privacy.”

He was right about that much, Hope thought fervently. More to the point, she wished she had never agreed to come. Not just because she was angry with Chase, but because it was already even more awkward than she had anticipated. They were in the woods alone, and they had only been here a little over an hour.
This early in March, when the night temperatures dipped into the lower sixties and upper fifties, the state park was still relatively deserted. Consequently they'd been able to get a campsite that was both beautiful and very private. The only sounds were those of their voices, and the whisper of the wind through the pines.

She felt vulnerable, physically and emotionally, as dinnertime approached. She couldn't imagine how she would begin to feel when the sun went down and darkness fell, and they had nothing to distract them from each other. Maybe she would keep Joey up later than usual, she thought a little desperately, or use him as a shield to keep the conversation from becoming too personal between her and Chase. Maybe Chase would be tired, from all his spying, she thought, and frowned.

“Am I going to sleep with you?” Joey asked curiously, his brows knitting together. With his index finger, he pushed his glasses a little farther up his nose.

Chase shrugged, as if it made little difference. “Wherever you want, sport, with your mom or with me. The tents are the same size. They both sleep four, so there's plenty of room either place.”

“I'm sleeping with you, then,” Joey said, deepening his voice deliberately and physically aligning himself with Chase's taller form. “Us guys need our privacy, too.”

The grown-up sound of her son's voice and his attempt to be macho and fearless, coaxed a reluctant smile from Hope. No matter how difficult this was for her, it was very good for Joey. And she would weather anything that would benefit her son.

“How soon is dinner?” Joey asked. “I'm getting hungry.”

“Dinner won't be for a while, but there are some granola bars and canned juice in my backpack,” Chase said. “Help yourself to a snack.”

When Joey went off, Chase straightened slowly and looked at Hope. “Thank God he doesn't realize anything's wrong,” Chase murmured.”

A chill ran down her spine at the dissatisfied look in Chase's eyes. “Let's keep it that way,” Hope said, just as softly. Although she could see he wanted to sit down and talk, she didn't want to discuss his visit with her mother. She didn't want to discuss her meetings with Russell Morris, or his mother's attempts to discredit and ruin her. She wanted to leave that all behind, for just a little while. She just wasn't sure he would let her.

 

C
HASE ENDURED
Hope's silence through their meal preparations, dinner and dishes. He knew she was ticked off at him, and maybe she had a right to be, but he'd be damned if he would endure the withering glances she gave him whenever her son's back was turned.

“How long are you going to stay mad at me?” Chase asked, after a thoroughly exhausted Joey had finally gone to sleep. Hope was standing next to the picnic table, her hands immersed to the elbow in the small dishpan of soapy water. Used to seeing her mostly in suits and blouses, it was disconcerting to see her in a simple yellow cotton turtleneck sweater and cords. Her windswept hair hung down around her face, and her cheeks filled with a color generated by the cool night air. Chase had the feeling she didn't let herself relax very often, and as he watched her, he saw she was a long way from tranquillity despite their serene surroundings. Her back and shoulders stiff, she scrubbed vigorously at the aluminum plate in her hand.

“I don't know,” she said tightly. She slid the clean plate into the small tub of clear water next to it.

Chase picked it up and began to dry it.

“Probably a while,” Hope admitted.

At the depth of her fury, Chase felt his own temper begin to fray around the edges. “A while or all weekend?” When she didn't answer, he said, “All month? Until I leave again? How long, Hope?”

She turned to face him so swiftly that water splashed out of the tub, soaking them both at the waist. “You want the truth?” she snarled in an exasperated whisper, inching forward until they stood nose to nose. “I will probably be mad at you forever. Dammit, you betrayed me, going to see my mother like that, asking all those questions.”

“I explained to you why I had to do it.”

“No, Chase,” she countered, “you rationalized why you had to do it. There's a big difference.”

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. He never had been able to understand why people feared the truth. It was the lies and deceptions that ended up really hurting. He opened his eyes to find her still glaring at him. “I didn't have to tell you anything,” he pointed out reasonably.

“Why did you?” She held his glance until doing so became
uncomfortable for both of them, then turned her attention back to the stack of camping dishes.

“Because I didn't want a lie between us.”

“Bull,” she said, slamming both sudsy hands quietly down on either side of the dishpan. She faced him fiercely. “You just couldn't deal with feeling guilty about what you'd done and thought by confessing your misdeed you would be exonerated in some fundamental way.” Her statement hit its target.

The heat of regret filled his face. “Maybe I did feel guilty,” Chase admitted reluctantly after a moment. He tried hard not to notice how the lamplight illuminated the fragile beauty of her face and brought out the shadows beneath her eyes, and the vulnerable trembling of her mouth and its softness. “I don't like dealing with people that way.”

“Then maybe that's a clue not to do it again in the future,” Hope countered stiffly, resuming her dishwashing with unnecessary force.

Again, water surged over the rim of the small plastic dishpan, this time dampening both their thighs. Tears sparkled against her lashes, but fell no farther. Desperate to mend the rift between them, Chase grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. He held her there when she would have bolted. “Hope, I was trying to protect you.” In her heart, he felt she knew that.

She gave a bitter little laugh, and looked even more distressed. “If you cared about my feelings you would never have gone there,” she whispered hoarsely. Her wet hands inched up to try to pry his fingers from her shoulders. “Ever! Damn you!”

Afraid she would wake Joey if her escalating emotions remained unchecked, he cupped a hand beneath her elbow and half dragged, half led her farther away from the tents, not stopping until they were standing at the far edge of the campsite, in a stand of trees.

“I'm sorry, okay?” He knew he'd had no right to go snooping around like that, but he also knew instinctively that she was in some sort of trouble. Russell Morris was a part of that trouble, even if she wouldn't yet admit it to him. “But at least I was honest,” he continued when she pushed away from him and leaned her back against the spreading base of a live oak. “At least I leveled with you.”

She shook her head in exasperation and tilted her head up to his. “Is that oh-so-noble gesture supposed to win you my admi
ration?” she questioned sarcastically. “Is that supposed to get you off the hook with me?”

Yes, dammit, Chase thought, it was. He had expected her to be open to reason with the passage of this much time; the fact that she wasn't was both frustrating and annoying. “I said it before. I'll say it again. I'm sorry if I hurt you,” he repeated tightly.

“Well, sorry doesn't cut it,” she snapped. She tried to step around him. “Not in this case. You lied to me, Chase.” And that she wouldn't sanction. She'd been played for the fool once. It would never happen again.

He stopped her from fleeing by planting a hand on either side of her. She had run from too much already—from her past, her home, her parents, and Russell Morris. She wasn't going to run from him, too. “And you're not lying? Pretending you have no feelings for Russell Morris, then meeting him on the sly.”

The thought of her with Morris made him furious. Dammit, she knew the guy was a sleazy jerk! Yet she was spending time with him again! Why? Were they back to her need for money again? Was she part of one of Russell's schemes?

Hope was aware how close they were, how damp and clinging the midsections of their clothing, and how very much she wanted him to hold her in his arms. “I don't have any feelings for Russell.” The idea that she could was ludicrous! She hated Russell Morris. It was Chase she cared about, Chase who she didn't want to think badly of her. Chase who, if he found out the truth, undoubtedly would think her a fool and a coward and maybe even a tramp. And she couldn't bear that. She couldn't bear it if he, too, looked at her with the same disdain as her parents and all the people she had once known. They hadn't believed her story, either.

Chase's glance narrowed. “Then why were you meeting with him?” he asked in disbelief.

Hope pushed at his shoulders, and found them immovable. Dropping her hands, she leaned back against the cold, rough bark. Although they weren't touching, she was acutely aware of his body and of the energy seething between them. Turning her head to the side, she ignored his nearness. “I only saw Russell for one reason. I was trying to get rid of him!”

His arms flexing slightly, he studied her. “You're not still carrying a torch for him?” he asked roughly.

“No.” Just the thought of him made her ill and brought on the
awful migraines. She closed her eyes briefly, unable to deal with Chase's penetrating gaze, or her need to vindicate herself in his eyes. She feared she would inadvertently reveal too much, and cause an even bigger mess than the tangled web of lies and half-truths they were already in. “I hate the man!”

He waited until she opened her eyes again before he spoke. “Because of what he did to your family?” Chase watched as she wet her lips.

“Yes,” Hope answered hoarsely. Part of her wished he would let her go, the other part wished he would find out everything now, so they could just get it over with. Then he could think her a fool like everyone else. He would walk away before they became any closer. She knew now how very wrong they were for each other. Chase thought they should tell everything, risk everything. Only she knew how very much the truth could hurt.

The moments drew out and the embattled silence continued. Whatever had happened back then had scarred Hope irrevocably and made her afraid to trust, Chase thought. He wanted to help her, but in order to do that he had to get her to talk.