Sweet Release (15 page)

Why should it bother him? Isabelle had had other lovers. Most of Alec’s lovers had been married women who returned to their husbands’ beds after warming his. Never once had he cared. But the thought of Cass ... Miss Blakewell making love with another man ate at him until he found himself plotting like some jealous husband to follow her. One glimpse of her slender throat, one whiff of her skin, one moment’s contact—even the sound of her voice—and his balls began to ache. When he went to bed at night, his mind was filled with her: her scent, the feel of her skin, the image of her—eyes closed, lips parted and swollen from his kisses. Not even old Charlie’s lethal corn whiskey drove her from his thoughts. He wanted her. He wanted her beneath him, bared to his touch, moaning with unbridled pleasure. He wanted her to cry his real name as he brought her to her climax and found his own within her.

Alec shifted, uncomfortable in the saddle, and cursed. To imagine such things only made his predicament worse. To have her was impossible, or at least a very bad idea. Miss Blakewell was nothing but trouble.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the man hiding among the trees watching him.

Cassie stood in the doorway of the cookhouse and gasped with pleasure as, at last, a sticky breeze caught her, bringing some relief from the almost unbearable heat. The morning’s rain had left the ground muddy, the air heavy and humid. Though the cooking fire in the hearth had burned itself low since midday, the kitchen was a furnace. She’d worn her pale green cotton gown, the lightest one she owned, and still she was uncomfortable. Standing over steaming dishwater, as she had been for the past twenty minutes, only made matters worse.

“I’d wager even Satan thinks ‘tis hot today.” Nan sat at the table, peeling potatoes.

“Aye.” But Cassie was only half listening.

The slow
click-clack
of a horse’s hooves on cobblestone grew louder. She withdrew into the shadows, where she could not easily be seen, and watched as Cole led Aldebaran through the courtyard toward the well, Jamie following behind. The past two weeks had taught her he had not been lying when he’d said he was skilled with horses. She’d made a point of checking up on his work at night and had been both pleased and surprised with the results. The stables had been cleaned and reorganized; the tack cleaned, oiled, and hung; broken boards and shingles replaced. The horses had been groomed from forelock to heel, and several had been reshod. Aldebaran, the only horse of which Cassie had ever been remotely afraid, had responded to his handling like a frisky but harmless puppy. It seemed she was not the only living creature rendered pliant by this man’s touch.

As if he knew she was thinking of him, Cole glanced her way before tying off Aldebaran’s reins and lowering the bucket to draw water. She stifled a gasp as he looked directly at her, but his eyes passed lightly over her, as though he did not see her. He looked so like an English country gentleman, with his proud bearing and long, graceful stride. Alec Kenleigh. She allowed herself to whisper the name, testing it. For what must have been the thousandth time since receiving the sheriff’s dispatch, she found herself hoping Cole was telling the truth. It would assuage her guilty conscience greatly to know she craved the touch of a gentleman and not a lying felon.

And crave his touch she did. She could no longer deny it. She thought of Cole every waking moment. Not a night had passed this week or last when she had not lain in bed and remembered, in agonizing detail, what had happened between them. She’d been burning with questions since then. Was it always like this between men and women? Was she a loose woman for having wanted it so? Was it possible to make these feelings go away?

But whom could she ask?

Not Nan. The cook might, out of fear for her safety, tell Micah, and then Cole’s indenture was as good as sold. Besides, Nan had never married and wasn’t supposed to know about such things. Not Rebecca. Though Rebecca was a married woman with a child in her belly, Cassie was her mistress and could ill afford to lose her respect. If news of her feelings for Cole became common knowledge among the redemptioners, they’d have nothing but contempt for her.

The only person left was Takotah. Cassie knew Takotah would take her secret to the grave. Still, Cassie couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone what had happened. How could she possibly explain it when she did not understand it herself?

She was about to return to washing dishes when she saw Jamie clamber up the stone side of the well to pat the stallion on the head. She started to scold him and tell him to climb down when Aldebaran shrieked and reared.

The reins went taut and caught Jamie’s legs.

Cassie screamed and ran toward him.

In horror she watched as Jamie toppled backward into the well.

Chapter Ten

“Jamie!”

Deadly hooves slashed through the air around her, striking wood and brick. Heedless of the danger, Cassie dashed past the screaming horse and looked over the well’s rim.

Her heart stopped.

Somehow Cole had managed to catch one of Jamie’s ankles. Below Jamie loomed darkness.

“Cut the reins!” she heard Cole shout.

The stallion shrieked and reared, jerking at the bonds that restrained him.

Cassie darted back to the cookhouse, where Nan stood, mouth agape in horror, and grabbed the potato knife from her hands. Sharp, hard hooves were everywhere, chipping wood, masonry, cobblestone.

Not even thinking, Cassie dashed back and, slashing at the reins with all her might, cut through the tough leather.

Aldebaran reared once more, his dark eyes rolling in his head, then galloped away.

“I won’t let you go,” she heard Cole say, his voice soothing.

Jamie’s frightened whimpers echoed from below.

Cassie peered over the rim, unable to breathe, as Cole slowly pulled Jamie up.

“I’ve got you,” Cole murmured reassuringly as he lifted Jamie over the edge and into his arms. “Take him.”

Cassie grabbed for her brother, hugged him to her, and carried him to the cookhouse steps, where she sank in a trembling heap.

“Praise the Lord!” Nan cried. “Bless ye, Cole Braden! Bless ye!”

“It’s all right. It’s all right,” Cassie crooned, her voice quavering.

“You’re safe, love.”

Was that Jamie crying, or was it her?

She kissed him over and over on his downy curls, holding him tightly. “Don’t ever climb up there! And stay away from that stallion, do you hear me?” Fear made her sound angry. She held him tighter, stroking his hair.

In her arms, Jamie whimpered.

“It wasn’t the stallion’s fault.”

Cassie looked up to see Cole doff his shirt and hurry toward them.

“That animal nearly killed all three of us! Jamie didn’t do anything to frighten—”

“It wasn’t Jamie’s fault, either.”

It was then that Cassie saw the angry red welts on his chest, arms, and abdomen.

“Oh, Cole!”

“If I were you I’d get indoors,” he said. “I think those hornets are feeling spiteful.”

Then Cassie heard it—a faint buzzing sound.

“Hurry!” Nan scolded. “I’ll nae have those devils swarmin’ into me kitchen!”

Gathering Jamie in her arms, Cassie stood and stepped quickly inside, Cole behind her.

“They’ve made a nest in the mortar.” He closed the door behind them. “We’ll need to smoke them out before we can seal the crack.” Cassie sat Jamie on the table and searched his skin for welts.

“Did they sting you, love?”

Jamie shook his head, sniffing back tears.

But more than a dozen angry red blotches stood out against the skin of Cole’s chest, with more on his arms and belly.

“I’ll go find some mud,” he said, moving toward the back door.

“Nonsense,” said Cassie, taking a jar of soda from the shelf.

“What good will mud do? Sit down.”

“Yes, mistress.” Cole grinned.

“Should I fetch Takotah?” Nan asked.

“No need. I can handle it.” Cassie ignored Nan’s pointed expression. “Find Zach and tell him about the nest. I don’t want anyone else to get stung.”

“Aye, missy. Come along, lad.” Nan picked Jamie up, settling him on her ample hip. “I’ll nae be lettin’ ye out of me sight again. Gave me old heart the fright of my life, ye did. I’ve a notion to tan yer backside.”

What felt like a hundred white-hot needles pierced Alec’s skin, burning and itching. He watched as Cassie poured a small amount of the white powder into a bowl and added water from the nearby pitcher, making a thick paste. She scooped the paste onto her fingertips, stood before him, and dabbed it onto the swellings. The paste was cool against his skin, her light touch soothing. “Don’t they hurt?” Her eyelashes cast shadows on her cheek, and her forehead was knitted with concentration.

He reached out to touch a wayward curl, but caught himself and pulled his hand back. “Aye, they sting.”

She stopped and looked up at him, her green eyes wide. Tears had left tracks on her cheeks. “How did you manage to hold on?”

Alec remembered Jamie’s terrified little face as he fell, Cassie’s heartrending scream. “I wouldn’t have let go for anything.” He brushed his fingertips over the smoothness of her cheek. It was a mistake.

She moved away from his touch as if scorched. Finished with his chest, she walked behind him. She worked quickly now, smoothing paste over the welts on his back and shoulders as if she couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

“There,” she said at last. “That should calm the itching and bring the swelling down.”

Remarkably, it already had. Only the welts on his thighs bothered him now.

“I believe I’ve some on my legs.”

Cassie looked down at his thighs, her eyes resting for a moment on his groin. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she looked up at him with something akin to horror in her eyes.

Alec couldn’t help but laugh. “I can handle that part myself.” He took the small bowl from her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll tend to myself and then find Aldebaran.”

He had reached the back steps and was about to leave when she spoke.

“ I . . . don’t know how to thank you. What you did was—”

He turned to find her watching him, her hands twisting nervously in the folds of her skirts.

“We were lucky.”

He stepped outside and walked toward his cabin, certain she was still watching him.

The hornet’s nest was the object of much curiosity for the rest of the afternoon. Children watched from a distance as the men examined it, built a fire beneath it, and flushed the bothersome insects from their hiding place. The acrid scent of smoke still hung in the air when Cassie stepped from the cookhouse, where she had been chopping carrots and leeks for their dinner of turtle soup. She needed to find Cole. She hadn’t seen him since he’d left this afternoon, and she needed to see how he was faring. That was what she told herself. She’d mixed up more soda paste for his welts in case he needed it. But truth was, she needed to talk to him. To thank him properly. He had saved Jamie’s life, and he hadn’t let her thank him.

When she caught up with him. Cole was settling the horses with their evening oats.

“Mr. Braden,” she said, unsure of how to begin. Her feelings became jumbled when he was near. She breathed in the scent of horses and sweet, fresh hay, willing herself to be calm. She was no silly girl who lost her wits whenever she saw a handsome face. He turned his head, glanced at her, then started brushing Aldebaran without so much as saying good day.

She frowned. “ I . . . I wanted to thank you.” She smoothed her skirts.

He stopped brushing and at last faced her.

“Jamie is very fond of you,” she added awkwardly. She tried not to notice that the ties of his shirt had come undone, revealing his throat and a good portion of his chest. Or that the scent of the forest still clung to his skin. Or that her heart began to pound when he looked directly at her.

“As I am of him. It must be very frightening for you to be raising the boy alone.”

“Aye.” Her throat was suddenly tight.

“You’ve done an admirable job.”

Surprised by the compliment, she didn’t know what to say.

“Thank you,” she said at last. “When he was born, I was sure he would die. And when he didn’t... I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.”

Those had been lonely days, and hard, but she wasn’t sure why she now felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. Nor did she want to consider why she had just shared her feelings on such a private matter with a man who was practically a stranger. She had not been herself lately.

She felt the first hot tear slide down her cheek. He stepped closer, caught it, and gently wiped it away, his thumb leaving a trail of heat on her cheek. His gaze caught and held hers.

“You must know,” he said softly, “I’d never let anything happen to your son.”

“My son? Jamie?” Cassie laughed after a moment, her sorrow forgotten. “Jamie is my brother.”

Your
brother?
But…” Cole looked genuinely confused.

“Aye, my brother. My mother died four days after his birth. And my father . . . my father has not been himself since. I’ve raised Jamie since then.”