To Seduce a Rogue (17 page)

July left Edgemont, dismissed by an intolerably hot, dry August. Crops and tempers in the small town suffered.

Withering corn stalks had Miles’ face pinched with worry. Kath fretted about Miles. Gerald carried his concern for his son’s farm to the newspaper office, where it joined the tension already simmering between Adam and Charlie. Adam buried himself in his work to avoid thinking of anything else. This only increased Lila’s vile disposition. Hubert Dane went out of his way to please his daughter, disturbed when he could not. He berated his assistant, Tom Walker, at every turn. Tom turned to Charlotte for solace, but she buried herself in her work to avoid thinking of anything else.

Aldo Friedrich seemed the only happy person in town. Whiskey sales had risen for no reason he could fathom.

In the middle of the month, a storm answered the town’s prayers for rain, though it brought hail and violent winds. The day after, the menfolk held an emergency meeting in the church to discuss the damage and organize groups to complete the necessary repairs.

The church, which also served as the town’s schoolhouse, was airless and overcrowded. A burst of conversation assaulted Adam’s ears as he stepped through the door. He pulled his hat off and slid his hair from his eyes. He had been meaning to have it cut. Charlie had grudgingly offered to do it last week, but then she would have to touch him. He knew neither one of them wanted, well...
needed
that. And he was not sure he could endure it without pulling her into his lap and—

He sighed. He had best go to a barber. If Edgemont even had a barber.

Making his way through the assembly, he caught sight of Miles and Gerald at the front. Miles grinned as Adam stopped before them. “You made it.”

Adam slapped his hat against his leg. “I don’t know why. With Gerald here, and Charlie at her place cleaning up, I’m damned shorthanded.”

“This shouldn’t last long.”

Adam grunted. He had seen meetings like these go on longer than an old man’s story.

Gerald clapped his hands. “Gentlemen. We need to call this meeting to order.” He slipped a finger between his lips and released a shrill whistle. Silence rolled like a wave through the assembly. “I thought that would do it. Thank you, for coming on such short notice. I know everyone needs to get back to their homes and farms. First off we ought to see who needs assistance right away. I know of a few things that can’t wait.” He patted his shirt pocket. “Did anyone bring pencil and paper?”

Adam closed his fist around his hat and waited for someone, anyone, to speak up, but the silence swelled. He just knew this was going to take more time than he could afford to spend. “I have it.”

Gerald nodded, his grin growing. “I should have known. Adam, you can be our what-do-you-call-it?” He snapped his fingers.

“Secretary,” Adam said.

“Secretary. Fine. Shall we begin?”

Two hours and ten pages later, the assembly concluded. Adam wiped sweat from his brow and scribbled one more line. The time spent had been worth it after all. He had recorded enough information for a decent write-up of the gathering, initially Gerald’s assignment. And somehow ended up organizing the groups assisting with the repairs, too.

A nudge against his back propelled his pencil across the page in a jagged arch.

“I’m sorry, Adam, to interrupt your writing.”

Adam clicked his teeth together and glanced up. Tom Walker stood there, his gaze as green and clear as the pond behind Adam’s childhood home. An odd thought occurred:
did Charlie like the color
? “Tom. Just putting together a few final ideas.” He shook the pad for emphasis.

“You’re quite an organizer, I must say.”

“Pulling together enough stories to fill a paper for a thousand different press runs must have prepared me.”

“Must have,” Tom said, visibly disinterested. “Actually, I just wanted to see if I could switch groups with someone. I’d like to help with the tree that needs cutting down at Charlotte’s. You know, the one hanging over her porch?”

Of course, he knew
the one hanging over her porch
. He had spotted it this morning, while riding by her house. If he wasn’t such a coward, he would have stopped to talk with her about it. As it was, he told Miles, who made sure to tell her to stay off the porch until they removed it.

Strange, his riding by her house so often. Most times, the neat yard surrounding her home was empty—except for Faustus, floating like a flame upon a sea of green. He wished he could ride by without looking for her.

He wished he did not feel the urge to ride by at all. 

Hell
. He missed her.

Missed exchanging barbs with her, and the way her gaze used to focus on him, as if what he was saying was interesting, important. Missed her honest, deep laugh, so unlike the shallow, thin one she used of late. Missed walking her home, with moonlight spilling across their path.

Of late, she left before it got dark. Avoiding those strolls he had gotten terribly used to.

Did she miss him, too?

If she did, she hid it well. She talked to him, they had to talk, but she was distant.

You’re just like everybody else in this town, Chase. We’ll forget this happened, forget we were ever friends
.

She was wrong, of course. Only, explaining that would further complicate the situation. He should be glad there was distance between them. Now there were no strong bonds to break when he left. Only Lila, which was the weakest bond he could imagine.

In a final thrust of life’s blade, the damned dreams had started again. As vivid as ever. No age-honored tradition of time healing all wounds. The field was just as muddy, Eaton’s blood just as red, flowing through Adam’s fingers in rivers of crimson panic.

“What do you think about making the switch?”

Adam forced his mind from the dreams. He made a show of flipping to the page marked by columns of names and striking through one. “Consider yourself switched.”

Tom frowned. “Are you angry about something?”

Adam rolled his shoulders, not able to hide his fatigue. “Sorry. Just tired. The paper.” He waved a hand in dismissal as he stood and headed for the door.

Tom was the better man, and they all needed to remember that fact.

* * *

The second round of knocking sounded. “I’m coming,” Charlie called. She passed through a strip of sunlight just beginning its climb from the neatly swept floor to the wall. She struggled to tie a knot at the back of her apron. She never put it on unless she expected company.

The men were coming to cut down the pine tree. She told Miles it could wait until they finished the other repairs in town. What did they think she was going to do—climb on the branches and swing? She opened the door, surprised to see Tom standing on the porch with an ax in his hand. The scent of smoke drifted in around him.

Of course, it was fine for Tom to cut down the tree, but she’d assumed Miles—or maybe Chase—would do it.

“Hello, Tom.”

“Charlotte.” He moved a step closer.

She smothered the urge to step back. “I’m surprised to see you here. Can the bank do without you for an entire day?” She smiled to lighten the gibe.

He laughed, good-natured clear to his bones. “Oh, they can do without me today, I think. Especially after I specifically requested this assignment.” His eyes danced with something she did not care to define.

“Oh?” Was this gesture supposed to please her? She wasn’t good at faking flattery. And frankly, the need to did not arise often.

“I asked Adam if he would switch with me. Originally, he and Miles were coming. But, dog, don’t you see those two enough?”

She wished she could see more of Adam Chase.

Her stomach fluttered as she recalled their stolen kiss. She swallowed hard. “Thank you, thank you for volunteering to help. Chase is so busy, surely he doesn’t have the time...” She shut her mouth to halt a stream of words that might get her into trouble if she wasn’t careful.

“Oh, he and Miles didn’t get off that easy. They’re repairing Mr. Whitefield’s storage shed. The roof collapsed.”

“That’s good, great. Nice of them, I mean.”

“Charlotte, are you all right? Have you been getting enough sleep?” His frowned, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. “And at the meeting yesterday, Adam looked as if he was ready to drop.” He tapped the ax handle against his boot. “Can that newspaper mean so much?”

She shook her head, when she really meant yes.
Yes it does mean that much
. “Tom, I would love to have a nice, long visit, but I’m in he middle of cleaning. Besides, you have to attend to that dangerous tree, right?”

“Yes, I do.” He turned, taking the steps with his measured, efficient gait. He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze was alert, surveying. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”

She presented what she hoped was a healthful, comforting smile. He smiled back, but, for the first time since she’d known him, she doubted his sincerity. As he walked off, she closed the door, leaning her shoulder into it. She knew what she must do. This farce with Tom had gone on long enough. He was taking her to dinner Saturday; she would tell him then. She liked him, had always thought of him as a friend. Not a good friend like Miles...Kath...
Chase
. But a friend just the same.

It wasn’t fair to let him wait for her to come around. She understood now—better than ever—that she was never going to
come around
. The idea of marrying Tom had, at one time, held a certain secure charm. It wasn’t all her fault. He could have retreated at any time. There weren’t many reasons she could see for him to have kept trying.

One being that he loved her.

Releasing a breath, she slid to the floor, dropping her chin to her knees and wrapping her arms around her legs. Had she ever—honestly, in her heart—believed she would share a home with Tom?

Share a bed?

It wasn’t Tom she imagined sharing a bed with. It wasn’t Tom she imagined touching, kissing,
licking
. Did people even do such things? She prayed they did, because horribly vivid images of entered her mind constantly. Images clear enough to send sharp, almost painful trails of heat through her belly and even sometimes, well...
below
. Nothing exact, rather, it was a mix for the senses.

Chase’s lips guiding hers, his hands, his
fingers
, caressing her. The images were indecent. Exhilarating. Frightening. Forbidden. This was something a woman dreamed about doing with her husband, for heaven’s sake. Here she was, oh, her face burned to think of it.

She scrubbed her hands over her eyes, trying to erase the pictures.

If only.

If only
what
, Charlie? She flung her hands to the floor. If only he weren’t leaving? Would that make any difference? She shook her head, knowing it would not. She
knew
him. He was too much like her. It was true, she didn’t know all the details of his past, but she had seen sides of him others had not. He didn’t believe in love; he was
not
in love with her. Perhaps, he thought there was a mild infatuation between them, an innocent flirtation.

Beyond doubt, other women had been in love with him. With his looks, wealth and charm, how could there not be others?

Chase’s women, ah, they probably understood him as well as a lengthy Russian novel. Much of his duplicity was deliberate—sly glances and coy words meant to cloak genuine sentiment.

The beautiful smiles and flashing dimples tended to daze a girl.

Her only advantage—as strange as it was, since it had never been an advantage before—was that she thought like a man. She was as stubborn, as determined. As capable.

What about Lila, who was trying her hardest to ensnare him? Charlie couldn’t even collect a dose of malice for
her
, because he was going to leave her, too. In any case, she didn’t deserve him. If the real Chase—the person beneath the handsome facade—walked past Lila on the street, she wouldn’t recognize him. Would she think his mind, his sharp intellect, his clear, articulate speech splendid? Would she enjoy sparing with him, challenging his inestimable wit? Would she protect his vulnerability? Would she even think to search for it?