Beverly Jenkins (13 page)

As Cara dressed that evening for Virginia’s birthday party she thought about the talk with Dulcie and Sophie. Was she really in love? She found the idea disconcerting because she was sure Jefferson wasn’t. A harmless flirtation was all it was for him, and in just a few days he’d saddle up and ride out of her life. Still, she was afraid Dulcie
and Sophie were right. She was in love with Jefferson, and didn’t know what to do with the feelings or how to proceed.

Cara rode over to the party with Asa and Sophie. Cara had chosen to sit on the end of the bench so Sophie could sit next to her love. Cara viewed the relationship between them with fresh eyes. She noticed how content they seemed with each other’s company—the way Sophie’s arm laced with Asa’s as he held the reins; the softness in their gazes as they shared a word or two. They appeared so peaceful, so complete. She was envious, and for the first time wondered if maybe there was more to life than the joy found in being a teacher.

Virginia’s guest list included the cream of the region’s Black society, Cara saw as she, Sophie, and Asa made their entrance. Uniformed members of the Tenth were sprinkled among bankers and hoteliers, elected officials, and land wealthy cattlemen. Tonight’s guest list didn’t at all resemble the one for the affair last week. There wasn’t a dress of muslim or gingham in sight. Cara had worn her “good” blouse and a fairly new black skirt, but she knew she still looked slightly out of place alongside the women in their finery and with her wounded eye. It had healed somewhat in the past three days, the bruises beginning to fade and the puffiness going down considerably. Yet, still, she felt pretty. Pretty and younger than her twenty-six years . . . all because of Chase, of course.

And then Chase appeared next to her—and the evening turned from delicious anticipation to disaster. She’d been speaking with Delbert Johnson, the doctor from Nicodemus. He’d courted her during the first year she’d been in the Valley, but they
hadn’t suited and had ended up friends rather than husband and wife. Chase and Delbert just seemed to hate each other on sight and snarled dreadfully at each other.

Cara had no idea why Delbert was being so cold. “You act as if the sergeant has wronged you in some manner, Delbert. Has he?”

“It’s you I’m worried about Cara,” he said. “People are talking about this torrid affair you’re having with him.”

Cara almost laughed. “I’m not having an affair, Delbert.”

Chase
did
laugh, which made Delbert purse his lips and say angrily, “Sergeant, you may not take this woman’s reputation seriously, but we in the Valley do.”

Chase was tired of people telling him how to treat Cara. “Doc, if I weren’t worried about her reputation, believe me, she wouldn’t have one left by now.” His smile made Cara shyly drop her eyes for a moment. “So, Doc, if you’re really worried about Miss Henson’s reputation, you tell your neighbors that as much as I wish the word ‘torrid’ described our activities, it doesn’t apply.”

Delbert raised his chin but looked uncomfortable with the slight setdown. “I apologize, Sergeant.”

Chase answered coolly, “She’s the one you should be apologizing to. Not me.”

Cara realized Jefferson was angry. She hadn’t seen the hard jaw and brittle eyes since that first night back in Topeka.

Delbert looked damn uncomfortable now, “Cara, I’m sorry. You know I’m not one to spread gossip. I apologize.”

“Apology accepted. And gossip or not, you’re a
true friend because you were concerned enough to confront me with what you’d heard.”

He took himself off after that and Chase drawled. “You’ve been here five minutes and already you’re causing a ruckus.”

“Me?!” she whispered, then she realized he was teasing, so she teased back, saying saucily, “You just wait till later. I’ll show you a real ruckus.”

She left him standing there openmouthed as she moved off into the crowd.

Every time Cara glanced up from the many conversations she had while awaiting the call to dinner, she found his eyes waiting. Sometimes he simply smiled, other times his gaze held so much heat, she seriously expected her skirt to go up in flames. It was the most sensual experience of her life, and by the time dinner arrived she was hungry only for him.

Dulcie had been contracted to do tonight’s dinner, and the lavish affair did honor to both hostess and chef. Cara picked at her food. Seated at the table with her were the Three Spinsters: Daisy Miller, the A.M.E. Church secretary; Rachel Eddings, the town’s telegraph clerk; and Lucretia Potter, the town milliner. Usually Cara enjoyed their company. All three women were intelligent and opinionated.

“Cara Lee Henson, what are you moping so about?” Rachel asked.

Daisy offered her own explanation between bites. “It’s that soldier, isn’t it?”

Cara shook her head in wonder at small-town living, then asked. “Is there anyone in town who isn’t talking about me and ‘the soldier’?”

“Everybody I know is,” Lucretia said.

“I loved a soldier once,” Rachel said. “He was a
redhead just like me and he looked so handsome in his uniform the day he left with the troops from Louisiana.”

“What happened to him?” Cara asked, because she knew Rachel had never married.

“He was killed at Milliken’s Bend, Virginia, in June of ‘63. I’ll never forget him. . . .”

The table quieted for a moment, then Rachel said, “Cara Lee, if you have even a tiny hope for happiness with Sergeant Jefferson, seize it. Life very rarely gives out second helpings.”

“She’s right Cara,” Daisy said. “If I had it to do over, I would take more chances in life. Now that I’m old and gray, I don’t even have memories, just dreams of what might have been.”

Cara looked at the three and said, “Ladies, I dearly appreciate your advice and your concern, but I can’t have everyone thinking like Delbert Johnson. He thinks I’m having a torrid affair.”

“Delbert Johnson is still sweet on you, Cara, and is just looking to stir the pot,” Daisy pointed out. “Some folks are talking crazy, yes, but most of us are just sitting back enjoying the romantic gossip and hoping Jefferson’s the one.”

“The one for what?” Cara asked.

“The one for you,” Lucretia said in mock testiness. “Haven’t you been listening, dear?”

After dinner, Cara excused herself from the ladies to seek out Sophie. On her way out of the dining room, Miles Sutton called to her.

She turned back.

“Can you and I go someplace and talk? It’s about the night at the church dinner.”

From the humble look on his face Cara gathered that he wanted to apologize. “Where can we go?”

“How about we just step outdoors for a moment?”

Cara took in the fresh air and glanced up at the stars. Miles stood beside her and did the same. “You know,” he began, “I didn’t appreciate you bringing up that incident with the kid to my mother.”

So he hadn’t wanted to beg her pardon. “If you think back, you brought up the subject,” she said tartly. “Is this all you wanted to speak with me about? Because if it is, I’m going back inside.”

“And if it’s not?”

“I’m still going back inside.” She turned to walk away.

He grabbed her arm. “Hey, don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”

“Miles,” she said, “in the last week, I have had my eye blackened and my ankle sprained. I’ve had enough bruises to last a lifetime. I do not need another one on my arm. Let me go.”

“Why don’t you like me? Other women do.”

“It’s because I have terrible taste in men, everyone knows that. Now let me go.”

“I’m not good enough for you.” He shook her. “Is that it?”

“Let go!”

Chase stepped out of the shadow of the house. “You heard the lady. Let her go.”

Miles released her instantly.

“Are you all right?” Chase asked, watching Cara rub her upper arm.

“Yes, Sergeant. Thank you.”

Chase turned his attention back to Miles, and when he spoke his tone was wintry. “Don’t ever put your hands on her again. Do you hear me? Now apologize.”

Miles opened his mouth as if to protest, only to have Chase bark, “Do it!”

Miles mumbled an apology, then looked at Chase with cold eyes. “You’re going to be gone in a few days, soldier, and then the field will be wide open again.”

Before the words had died on the night air, Chase had Miles by his shirtfront and lifted him up on his toes. “I know that wasn’t a threat I heard, was it, boy?”

In the moonlight Miles’s face looked pale with fright. He shook his head.

“That’s what I thought. Because if I had heard a threat I’d have to ask the lady to step back inside so she’d be spared the sight of me whipping your ass.” Chase let him go. “Now you stay away from her after I ride out, and you’ll live a long life. The problems you have with those gamblers will seem like child’s play if you have to tangle with me. Say good night.”

Miles did so quickly and stiffly walked back into the house.

“You sure you’re not hurt?” Chase asked, moving to Cara’s side.

“No, I’m fine. Angry but fine. How’d you know I was out here?”

“I saw you step out with him. You want to go back in?”

“In a minute. Let me calm down first. I actually believed he wanted to apologize to me. He looked so innocent. What a snake.”

“Who rescues you when I’m not around?” Chase asked, brushing back one of the delicate curls framing her face.

“I usually rescue myself.”

“That’s right. I’d forgotten.”

“And I was doing fine until you came into my life.”

“Well, we can’t have that. A man likes to have something to do.”

“Then maybe I should advertise after you leave . . . What are you doing?”

He was sliding the pins out of her hair. “I want to see you with your hair down.”

Cara rippled in response to the whispered touch of his hands. “There’s a houseful of people inside. If I let my hair down it’ll just give them more to talk about.”

But she did let him. Very slowly, one by one, he took the pins from her hair. Its full weight unfurled and she shuddered with the intimacy of the deed.

“Well”—he eased her hair away and kissed the side of her neck—“you should fix your hair again. We don’t want this to get torrid”

Cara lifted a hand for her pins. He put them in her upturned palm, while placing delicate whispers of kisses along her jaw. She could feel herself sway on legs that suddenly had gone weak. She was glad his big body sheltered her from any prying eyes so that for just a moment she could lean back against him and savor the feel of his strong chest and legs pressed against her.

“I’m calling off the competition we’ve been having.

“Why?” she asked, her breathing increasing in proportion to her rising desire.

“Because if I wait for you to ask for my kisses, I’ll still be waiting when I ride out.” He leaned down and kissed her with a fierce gentleness.

When he released her, she stared up through the haze of passion and asked, “So that means I’m the winner. Correct?”

“Don’t gloat.”

She grinned. “Admit it, there is one woman on this earth who can resist your talents.”

He winked. “We’ll see. I’m still waiting for this ruckus you promised me.”

Cara hadn’t forgotten her bold challenge. “Well, I’m glad I won. Now I can succumb willingly. Kiss me. Sergeant.”

He did. Slowly, sweetly, thoroughly.

“Everybody’s going to notice my hair’s different,” Cara said, repinning her hair once they called a mutual halt to the kissing.

Chase laughed. “It’s a little late to think about that now.”

“Yes, it is. Sophie said doing something like this is a sign that—” She closed her mouth and concentrated on her hair. “How’s this?”

“I liked it the way it was. But you didn’t finish. Sophie said it’s a sign of what?”

“Nothing.” She had no intention of telling him of her love. “We should probably go back in.”

He stopped her and tilted up her chin. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She smiled up and beckoned him with a finger. He leaned down, and she stood on tiptoe and kissed his mouth gently. “Thanks for the rescue . . . again.”

Back inside Cara found Sophie in the library playing poker. Cara was really ready to return to town, but knew Sophie rarely liked leaving a table when her cards were hot. Cara took one look at the despondent faces of the men at the table and knew her landlady was winning big.

When Cara came over and whispered her desire to return home, Sophie looked up from her hand
and instructed, “Tell Chase to take you in the buckboard. Asa and I can hitch a ride home with someone later.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, dear. Now run along. These gentlemen still have money in their clips with my initials embroidered on it, and I plan on taking it all before I leave.”

On the buckboard ride back to town Cara sat beside Chase thinking about their departure. Virginia had been visibly upset at Chase’s leaving. She made it clear by her icy manner at the door that the best birthday gift of the evening had been the tall, mustached cavalry soldier in Union blue, and she had planned on unwrapping that present at her leisure. However, Chase had politely declined the Black Widow’s invitation to return for dessert after escorting Cara back to town. Virginia’s look of outrage was a memory Cara would cherish for some time to come. “You made Virginia very angry by leaving.”

“Woman like her needs to be humbled sometimes. She’ll get over it. You know, schoolmarm, you don’t have to sit way over there.”

She smiled shyly and scooted down the bench to his side. “Better?”

“Somewhat.”

She slid over again until their bodies touched and linked her arm into his as he played the reins.

“Perfect,” he pronounced and kissed her on the brow. He drew the horse to a halt. “Is there someplace we can go?” He kissed her sweetly on the lips.

When he withdrew, Cara tried to think, but she never got the chance to gather her thoughts because he kissed her again, this time deeper, longer,
inflaming her with the tiny thrusts of his tongue. “You are so lovely . . .”

The potency of his kiss overwhelmed her once more. Cara slid her hands up the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders, her palms tingling from the contact. He dropped his burning mouth to the trembling column of her throat, and she sighed weakly as his hands came up and slid over the softness of her breasts. She arched as her nipples tightened in response.