Brighter Tomorrows (5 page)

“You make is it sound so simple.”

“It is, if we’re willing to try. If I work on putting my fear of losing you aside, are you willing to see if you can trust me? We might have something very special if we give it time.”

Her lips quivered, and tears pool in her eyes. A tear slowly leaked out and ran down her cheek. “I haven’t cried in five years.” She swatted the moisture from her cheek. “I’m…scared.”

Again, he lifted her chin.  “Let’s see if there is more to this.” His lips found hers. He went gently, so she would not take flight.

His good intentions flew away as if they rode a mounting gust across the prairie. Her lips tasted sweet as her applesauce and felt soft as rose petals. When she leaned into him, returning the kiss with equal pressure, he battled not to devour her.

Pulling back, he ended the sheer bliss. Her tears released as if a flood had burst through a dam. She shuddered as a gut-wrenching sob tore from her lips. When she buried her tear-streaked face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him, he held her tight, rubbing her back and rocking her as she wept softly. His chest expanded as he realized she had found solace in him enough to release all her pent up torment. 

♥ ♥ ♥

After ambling back to the house hand-in-hand, Callie extinguished the oil lamps, other than the one each of them carried, while Chase bolted the front door for the night. She wondered if he would treat her to another feverish kiss. She longed to see if it was as potent as the last. As they stood at the bottom of the staircase saying goodnight, the outside bell clanged. Callie jumped, making Chase laugh.

“Easy, sweetheart. I doubt anyone up to no good would be ringin’ the bell.” He nonetheless, drew his gun, placed his lamp on the flat-top newel and pushed the door’s curtain back. “It’s all right. It’s one of my men.” Opening the door, he ushered Henry inside. Chase made the introductions and assured Henry he could speak freely.

“Sorry to disturb ya, but I thought ya’d wanna  know they’re  jist the other side of the south ridge. Figure they might take a notion ta pay us a visit tomorrow since they got here early. What do ya think?”

The man appeared so calm you would have thought they were discussing her apple orchard.

“I think you’re right, Henry. If they got here late tomorrow like we thought, they’d wait until after the Fourth and strike. It sure as hell wouldn’t make sense for them sit it out for an extra day. I’ll come with you to make sure everyone’s aware and ready to party first thing tomorrow.” Henry nodded as Chase turned to her.

“You have an extra key I can take?  That way, you can leave the bolt off and lock the door so I can get in, if it’s real late.”

Fear at what would happen tomorrow sunk in like a lead ball to her chest. “Yes…I’ll get it.” She scooted down the hall, returning in less than a minute.

“Henry, give us a minute, and I’ll be right out.”

“Meet ya out on the porch.” He nodded to Callie. “Nice to meet ya, ma’am,” he said, making a beeline through the doorway.

Their gazes met and Chase cupped her face between his palms, his fingers gently caressing her cheeks. “There’s nothing to worry about. We’re only going to make sure everyone knows their parts. I may be back late, so don’t wait up. I’ll need to get up before sunrise so I can coordinate everything before the bank opens at nine.”

“I have a Seth Thomas alarm clock I brought from Virginia. I’ll set it for five—if that’s all right with you—then fix you breakfast before you leave. I’ll need to see you before you go. Please.”

“I’d like that. Just seeing your face before I leave will start my day off right.” He kissed her, slow and gentle. Her heartbeat fluttered.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him and leaning against him. Feeling his arousal, her blood surged hot and wild through her veins.

“We’ll resume this discussion another time. I need to leave now, or I won’t leave at all.” He gave her a peck on the lips, winked and grabbed his Stetson. “Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” 

Chapter Seven

“Another cup of coffee?” Callie asked, covering her mouth as she yawned.

Chase pushed back his chair and stood. “No thanks, but I appreciate you getting up to fix me breakfast. Henry’ll be here any minute. He’s bringing my horse in case we need to ride.”

They walked down the hall and stopped by the hall tree.  He already wore his guns, and had forgone wearing his suit coat today. He looked good either way, but oh my, he looked so very much more the Texan without the coat.

He turned toward her. “You bakin’ your corn bread today?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to do loads of laundry, and lots of cleaning so I don’t have to think. I won’t bake the bread until tomorrow afternoon.  That way, I can cover the pans with a quilt and they’ll stay warm. I’ll go watch the games and visit for an hour or two in the afternoon, then come back to bake.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it down to a science.” He hesitated.  “Just promise you’ll stay out of town today. For me.”

Their gazes met, each saying a thousand words silently.

“I promise. And you be careful. For me. Will you have someone tell me when it’s over?” Her attempt to smile failed.

“I will. Most shop owners do their banking first thing, and others, usually right after lunch. If I have him pegged correctly, he’ll wait until late morning or early afternoon, when the crowd is thinner.”

He crushed her to him, devouring her lips, robbing her of all thought. She matched his passion.  He pulled back and gazed at her with so much emotion she trembled.  “Henry should be outside by now. Hold all your thoughts till I get back.”

He turned, placed his Stetson. She followed him out to road. She greeted Henry, and Chase mounted. She watched the two walk their horses toward town.

Ready to turn and go inside, Callie stopped when she saw Chase halt and twist in the saddle.  “Just in case,” he yelled so loud the birds overhead took flight, “I love you. More than life itself. Just sayin’…so you know.”  His grin matched that of a cocky, pleased little boy.

Her heart almost took flight with the birds. “It’s a helluva time to tell me,” she bellowed loud enough for anyone down the road to hear. “I love you too, and you better come back to me. Just sayin’.”

Chase and Henry both hooted and set their mounts to jogging.

♥ ♥ ♥

Callie scrubbed clothes to lessen her rioting nerves. As she hung out the towels, she sputtered. Of all the times to profess his love, he had to yell it while going off to a shootout. She smiled, remembering the look on his face, his laughter.
Don’t you leave me now.

“Well, now, ain’t that the purdiest sight,” a voice, scratchy and sinister, sneered from ten feet behind her.

Callie’s fingers froze against the line. Sheer black fright ran through her. If this was Amos Marten, why would he be here, now, unless…unless he had been following Chase’s moves.
Dear Heavenly Father. Please help me…help Chase…the others.

“Was that smile fer me, sweet cheeks, or Chasey-boy?”

Her fear turned to fury. This vile vermin had no right to slander her love for Chase. She wouldn’t step aside and allow him to hurt him or use her to curtail Chase’s mission. Somehow, she had to get a message to Chase—or figure out how to best this creature herself. Think.

“You look at me, woman. I was countin’ on diddlin’ ya but I jist as soon put a bullet in ya if ya don’t behave better. Ya hear?”

That did it!
She’d kill the slug herself before the sun had time to set. No one would use her for their own purpose ever again. He had signed his death warrant with Chase years ago, with plenty more, too; and now, he’d just added one more to the roster.

She turned and nearly threw up. His pinched face, wizened from years of hard-core living, resembled a rat—not hard to believe—his scruffy beard and straggly filthy brown hair were sure to be infested with lice, having a rip-roaring field day. Cold, black eyes leered as threatening as a coiled rattler.

He glared, and she returned the favor. She needed to think, to somehow foil his plan. “What do you want?”

“Well, now that’s right nice to ask.”

She was tempted to throw caution to the wind.

“I be wantin’ what yuv been givin’ ta the boy. “

Vulgar monster!
“It isn’t like that.”

“Oowee! Ya don’t say. Never had me no virgin before. Hot damn!” He slapped his thigh with his left hand. “Hit the jackpot on this one. Now, ya stop that glarin’ and let’s you and me go inside and get real cozy-like.”

She glanced at the basket of clothes.

“I meant now. Don’t git me riled.”

“Fine, but I’m taking the clothes. Anyone, even animals, could take them.” She picked up the basket, marched around the side and to the front. On the porch, she set the basket down. “Thank you. They’re wet, so I’ll leave them here, except these.” She grabbed two towels so she’d have an excuse to go to the kitchen. Would anyone realize the basket was her distress signal?

♥ ♥ ♥

Fifteen men dispersed throughout the town on a mission most were not privy to.

At two minutes to nine, Chase and Matt tied their horses in front of Harper’s and ambled toward the bank. Marianne, holding a small leather satchel, stood behind an elderly couple.

“Good morning, Miss Grover. Nice to see you again.” Matt, grinning like a fool, spoke and nodded.

“Good morning to both of you. Time got away from me yesterday and I didn’t make it to the bank. I need change before I open.” Marianne glanced up at Matt and Chase, smiling.

The bank president, Mr. Williams, opened the door, called out a greeting, and announced they were open for business.

“I think Callie is mighty keyed-up about finishing her upstairs. I never thought to see anything mar her porch.” She moved up to the teller window as the couple finished.

A warning whispered in Chase’s head. As soon as Marianne stuffed her money in her satchel, Chase directed her to the far corner. “What about Callie’s porch?”

“She left a laundry basket, full of clothes, right in the middle of the porch above the steps. I wish I’d had time to stop and tease her, but I needed to get the bank before I opened.”

His blood iced over thicker than on a pond in February. Fear like he had never known seized his heart.

Marianne’s eyes widened. “What’s going on?”

“There’s no time. We’ll take care of Callie. Promise you’ll go to your shop and stay there.”

“I…promise.”

♥ ♥ ♥

Callie led him to the kitchen and set the towels on the counter. Could she grab a knife? Her mind spun.

“Sure smells good in here. Bacon’s my favorite. Ya got some left? I could eat me some before I take my fill of you.”

“I can fry some in a minute. Eggs, too.”

He eyed her. “Well now, ain’t that obligin’.” He plunked down on the chair at the work table and kept his gun pointed in her direction. “Two eggs, three bacons. Make it quick. My pecker needs carin’ for before I gotta take care of business. Name’s Amos Marten. Ya oughta know who’s gonna diddle ya.”

Vulgar
…She set a cup of coffee in front of him. She’d love to serve him hot grease. When the bacon sizzled, she stared. As young teenagers, her brother had taught her to flick. They had contests using plates, and fry pans, lighter with shallower sides than cast. Could she do it?

She placed a table setting in front of him. After cracking two eggs into another pan, she lifted the skillet with a pot holder, wiggled her wrist to test the weight. She’d use two hands today due to the added weight. A possible life with Chase and many other lives depended on her. Those incentives boosted her fortitude to hurl a blacksmith’s anvil.

After serving his eggs, she returned to the stove. Tightening her grip on the handle, she hefted the skillet using two hands. “I don’t want to splatter you. I’ll hold the pan, if you’ll remove the three strips with your fork.”

As soon as he finished, he held his fork in his left hand and kept the gun in his right. She took two steps toward the stove, then turned her head to see him chomp bacon. Tipping the pan to what she prayed was the correct angle for the grease to slosh out freely, she gave the pan handle the hardest flick she had ever done.

Hot grease spewed through the air like a thin horizontal waterfall. Marten shrieked as the scalding oil reddened and instantly blistered patches across his face. His gun zoomed through the air like an arrow. As if painted blazing red, his hands swelled before her frightened eyes. His shirt and pants were coated, and looked melted to his skin. Scrambling to his feet, quaking and shaking as if convulsing, he fought to pull the material from his heated skin. He howled and screeched. 

Before she could reconsider, she swung the pan like a stick of wood, full force. A direct hit to his head. He went down like a flimsy rag doll. Callie stood silent, frozen in place at what she had done. She had not thought she could be so vicious.
Dear God, forgive me for what I have done.

♥ ♥ ♥

Once Chase made sure the bank was covered by others, he and Matt mounted and raced toward Callie’s. Chase would go in the front; Matt would enter the back.

His gun drawn, Chase silently opened the door. He eyed the vacant parlor to his left, then crept down the hall, his mind alert. He checked the dining room to the left, Callie’s bedroom to the right.
All empty.
 

Nearing the kitchen, he saw her. She stood still, facing left. Relief swelled in his heart, yet he listened for voices, any movement.
Nothing.
  With pot holders, she gripped a fry pan in both hands, in front of her. His instincts went on alert. He took a step.

Below the table a man, unmoving, lay prone, arms and legs contorted at different angles.

Spotting Matt with his gun aimed, peeking from the entryway, Chase tilted his head toward the table. Matt’s eyes widened. Chase scanned the room, found nothing, and breathed a huge sigh. He holstered his gun and held up a hand to hold Matt at bay.

“Callie.”

She remained silent, ashen. He moved slowly, stepped in front of her.

“Callie, it’s Chase. I’m going to take the pan from you.” 

“Hot,” she said in a stoic voice. Taking a frank look at him, her brown eyes softened.

That’s my girl.

“I think I killed him.” She went to the stove and set the pan down. He followed her.

“Matt, check and see if he’s breathin’,” Chase directed.

From behind, Chase wrapped his arms around her and inhaled her apple scent as he buried his face in her hair. “Let me hold you. Did he hurt you, sweetheart?” He held his breath while his heart thudded.

She turned within his arms, laid her head against his chest, and wrapped her arms around his torso. “He was vulgar. He said he’d…he’d—you know…after he ate, but he didn’t hurt me. He laughed when he told me he’d been watching you.”

They clung to each other, both content to merely savor the moment. Chase knew he would have gone mad had Marten physically hurt or violated her.
Thank you, God, from us both.

“It’s Amos Marten all right, and he’s still breathin’…for now,” Matt said. “He’s a mess, Chase. He needs a doc bad. He’s out cold.” 

Let him rot on the floor.

Chase turned his head. “Get the doc. Have him bring a stretcher and men. Then, bring Marianne to stay with Callie. Tell doc to hurry, we need the rest of the gang.”

Matt vanished.

Chase preferred to take Callie to the parlor, but Marten’s ankles and wrists were so red and blistered he could not add more injury by cuffing the heinous beast to the table. Neither could he leave him unattended.

He sat on a kitchen chair in the far corner with Callie nestled on his lap. Sometimes, bad situations had their benefits. He insisted she needed to talk about it. She recounted the events of the morning. 

Doctor Swithers, accompanied by four strong men toted Marten away. When Marianne arrived, Chase and Matt hightailed it to town to help round up the other four. As they left, they heard Marianne insisting Callie start at the beginning—and this time, she wanted the particulars—how long Callie had known John…Chase…whoever. 

♥ ♥ ♥

The late afternoon breeze ruffled Callie’s hair as she sat in the swing awaiting Chase. After convincing Marianne she was fine, her friend agreed to go home to her animals. Her stomach growled just as Chase strode toward her house. Hiking up her skirt, she ran across the yard and bear-hugged him. Their lips clung before his deep belly laugh erupted. “I believe you missed me.”

“You know I did.” She drank in his raw masculinity and wondered how she’d gotten so lucky.

“I’ve brought food for sustenance,” he said holding up the crushed bag. “I stopped at the Chat-a-While and had Laura pack us some supper. Have you eaten?”

“No. Marianne cleaned up the kitchen before she left. I wasn’t hungry before.”

“Good.”

While Callie opened containers, Chase washed up.

As they ate, he related how the three other outlaws had been in a tizzy waiting for Marten to show up. They were to meet behind Harper’s. Two of them, at intervals, would leave to look for the fool. They’d been sitting ducks. It’d taken all day to process the men, send telegraphs to authorities and thank all involved, drop off his horse, and grab the supper.