Linda Castle (17 page)

“I’m not ashamed to say I know you, Doralee, or any of these women.” Linese stared down the row of painted faces behind Doralee. Melissa was not among them, and Linese wondered with a tiny twinge of envy if her baby had come yet. “Are you here to see the Captain?” Linese asked.

“You might say that.” Doralee winked in a way that made Linese’s pulse quicken. Curiosity made her follow Doralee inside Rancy Thompson’s office. He was leaning over his desk, thumbing through a stack of wanted posters. He looked up and a frown creased his face.

“Doralee?” He jumped up from his chair. Astonishment was written across his face while the women squeezed into his office and shut the door. “Mrs. Cordell?” Obviously he was incredulous to see Linese among the prostitutes and did little to hide his surprise. “What is this all about?”

Doralee closed her parasol with a snap and proceeded to take off her black lace gloves. Linese could not help but grin at the way she took command of the situation by the simple task of taking off her gloves and making Rancy wait until she was finished.

“Do you have Captain Cordell locked up in there?” Doralee nodded toward the dim hallway and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then I suggest you get the key and let him out.”

Silence fell so heavy in the room Linese swore she could hear her own heart pounding.

“And why would that be, Dora?” Sheriff Thompson eyed the line of women suspiciously.

“I have heard you are accusing him of some silly nonsense that happened on May 30, 1862. Is that right?” Doralee’s voice resonated with impatience.

Thompson’s initial astonishment was fast turning to irritation. “Yeah, so what?” His words rang with offense.

“Well, then let him out, Sheriff. He can’t have possibly have done whatever it is you say he did on May 30.”

“And why is that?” Thompson’s tone was almost belligerent now.

“Because Captain Cordell was at my establishment that night.” Doralee grinned broadly “The whole night, Sheriff, if you get my meaning.”

He wiped his hand down his face and turned toward the hallway. Linese hoped she didn’t look as shocked as Sheriff Thompson, but she was fairly sure she did.

“Wait a minute, Doralee, how is it you are so sure about that date?” Rancy questioned.

“Because that is my birthday, Sheriff, and that is the night the Captain tossed his hat up on my weather vane. Then he proceeded to climb up to get it—” several girls stifled giggles behind their hands “—in the altogether. It is not an event one sees every day in Mainfield, Texas. We are not likely to forget the sight—or the date—of that occurrence anytime soon.”

Thompson’s brows shot up and his face turned a bright crimson, but within seconds his skeptical frown returned.

“You expect me to take the word of—of—you and these women?”

Doralee was unaffected by his veiled insult. “No, Sheriff, I don’t. All of us are fully prepared to sign statements listing the names of the other Mainfield gentlemen who were there… enjoying the festivities and hospitality of my establishment.”

A murmur of agreement spread over the line of women. “I’m sure there are more than one or two wives who would find the list most interesting reading. And I will be sure to tell them that they have you to thank for the privilege.” Doralee batted her long eyelashes and smiled pleasantly.

Thompson went pale. Then he cleared his throat and looked at the floor. “No, Miss Doralee, I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” He turned and grabbed a key from a metal hook, gave the women one more glance, then disappeared down the hallway.

Linese grabbed Doralee and hugged her as hard as she could. “Oh, I could just kiss you.”

“Don’t you dare!” Doralee said in mock horror. “The Captain has always treated me like a real lady. I remember my friends—my enemies, too.” She smiled and touched Linese’s cheek affectionately. “What you can do is get over to the
Gazette,
and let that good-looking man of yours know what has happened. I made him a promise it would be all right. He need not fear for the old Captain’s safety anymore.”

C
hase watched the last paper go through the big flat-head press. Accomplishment swept over him in a rush when he picked it up carefully by the edges so he wouldn’t smudge the damp ink.

His editorial contained none of the beauty Linese was able to put on paper, but he had succeeded in saying what he felt. It was stark, visceral, and painted a picture of war that made Chase’s belly twist when he read it.

He had poured his heart into the article and the result was the sad truth. After all the parades were over, the brass bands gone, a soldier was left to face enemy fire on the battlefield alone. In the end, a warrior was faced with one task—his own survival.

While he had been writing, faint memories came floating back. The horror of watching young men puke their lives away haunted him. Images, like dim tintype pictures, assaulted him. They had perished by the hundreds from lack of nourishment, lack of sanitation, lack of proper medical care.

Lack.

If he could sum up his slim recollections of two years of war in one word, it would be that word—
lack.

He stopped reading. There was a bit of moisture at the corner of his eye. He swiped at it with ink-stained fingers and then stared at them in wonder.

Chase was weeping. Not only for the young soldiers who died, but for himself, for the survivors. He had been grieving for the men who came home and tried to pick up the broken threads of their lives. Chase realized that up until this moment, he had been hiding from one more sordid truth about himself. He felt guilty for surviving when so many others did not. But he was glad he had lived. He didn’t want to hide anymore.

He couldn’t do anything about the past—about the man he had been in the past, about the young men who didn’t make it back home. But he could change the kind of man he was now and would be in the future.

He was pretty sure he had been less than he would have wished before he went to war, but he had a chance to atone for that lack in himself now. He intended to change the small corner of the world around him.

This editorial was the beginning. He had found his taste for battle was not wholly gone, it had simply changed forms. He was ready—no, he was anxious—to take on Mayor Ker-ney and his friends.

Chase sighed and felt a great weight ease from his mind. He knew that in part it was because he had started to heal, to forgive himself for a thousand unremembered faults, but it was deeper than that. His grandfather’s shocking admission gave him a glimmer of hope for a future with Linese.

The skeptical part of his brain didn’t completely believe it yet, but he was turning over the possibility that there was little substance to his belief that the Cordell blood was somehow responsible for his missing memory. If it was indeed something caused by his injury, then he could heal.

If it was because he could not face some horrible deed he had committed with Ira Goten, then maybe he would not regain his memory.

He asked himself a million questions, tried on hundreds of possibilities to see if they fit, discarded and replaced them in his mind. He was weighing all the options, when suddenly
the door flew open. At first he thought a dust devil had forced it, then he saw Linese standing in the doorway.

She was out of breath and her eyes were wide. Her hair had tumbled down around her shoulders and her cheeks were flushed from the heat.

“God in heaven, what’s the matter?” He was across the room and beside her in three long steps. “Are you hurt? Is everything all right? Is it grandfather?”

“The Captain is free!” She stood on tiptoe to deliver a series of excited kisses to his jaw. The scent of flowers wafted around them like a clinging vine and drew him ever nearer to her. The feel of her warm form against his chest made his pulse quicken.

Chase felt the smile begin somewhere at the corners of his mouth, but it spread like fingers of flame throughout his body. Affection filled his heart, expanded, swirled, grew.

Her happiness was contagious. He picked Linese up and spun her around like a giddy child. She laughed and clung to him until they were both overheated and out of breath. When he placed her back on solid ground, he paused to gaze into her eyes. The look of happiness in her face blazed a trail straight to his soul.

“Chase, isn’t it wonderful? Doralee and the girls were with the Captain that night. He is free.”

“Good, good. Now I want you to get him at the jail and go home, Linese. Go straight back home to Cordellane where you’ll be safe.”

She raised her eyebrows and the brightness in her eyes faded. “Are you working late again?” Disappointment rang in her question.

“No, not tonight. I’ll be along soon. I just have to deliver a very special paper first.”

The love in her eyes reached out to him. He adored her, and he intended to be the kind of man she deserved. He only had to clear away the last traces of shadow and doubt from their lives and embrace the hope that he would eventually regain the rest of his memory. He was ready to believe it, he
needed to believe it, if he was going to reclaim his life and his wife.

When Linese was gone, Chase turned his thoughts to Mayor Kerney. He and his group had been jabbing a hornet’s nest since the day Chase stepped off the train. Now they were going to see the results of their actions firsthand.

Chase picked up the fresh issue of the
Gazette
and stepped outside. He locked the door behind him and took off down the walk. By the time he reached Kerney’s office, his shirt was stuck to him from the heat and the humidity and the restless anticipation pulsing through his veins.

Chase flung open the door to the mayor’s office without bothering to knock. Kerney looked up in astonishment from behind a huge carved desk. The paint on his walls looked fresh and clean, the carpet on his floor bright and new. Everything around him spoke of prosperity and wealth, and it served to make Chase even more angry when he thought of the gaunt faces of men who lived by their convictions. It wasn’t fair that a man who had no loyalty should prosper, while better men did not.

“Well, now. Chase Cordell, I’ve been expecting you. Come in, come in.” Kerney leaned back in his chair and laced his hands behind his head. He was the picture of contented victory amid the opulence of his official office.

“I wrote an editorial,” Chase said mildly.

The mayor’s smile grew wider. “I thought you might. Seeing your grandfather behind bars would be just the impetus you needed to get you going. Some of the other boys didn’t think you’d give in so easy. Guess I’m a better judge of character than most, eh, Chase?”

Chase felt as if someone had taken a key and unlocked manacles from his wrists. This moment was going to take away whatever threat the mayor had held over him from the past. His grandfather was free and clear. The Cordells were no longer going to be blackmailed by the Businessman’s Association. Chase was going to be able to live his life without fear, just like anyone else in Mainfield, Texas.

“Here’s a copy for you, mayor. I wanted to be the one to deliver it, personally, to be sure you got the first look at the
Gazette’s
stand on the issues of the war.”

Chase tossed the folded paper across the polished surface of the desk. It slid to the edge, where Kerney’s ample belly prevented it from falling to the floor. Kerney picked it up and opened it to read the bold black headline.

The smile began to slip from his flaccid lips. It was soon replaced by a frown, then a bright red flush of pure rage. Kerney’s head snapped up. His small eyes narrowed down to slits.

“I guess you’ve forgotten your grandfather is behind bars. I hold all the cards in this little game, Chase.”

“Not anymore. Seems he had been seen by a number of people on that night two years ago. You have no more leverage, Mayor. You can no longer threaten me with my grandfather’s safety.”

“You made a big mistake, Cordell, a dangerous mistake. There are other possibilities—involving your wife and grandfather. Their continued health and security is in your hands.” His voice was a menacing hiss.

“Not hardly.” Chase strode forward and placed his palms flat on the desk. He leaned forward and stared into the man’s eyes until his nose and Kerney’s were mere inches apart.

“If anything—I mean anything—happens to Linese or the Captain, I’ll kill you. I don’t care if it’s an accident, my fault or simply an act of God. If they come to harm, or even come close to harm, I’m coming for you. Then I’m tracking down each and every one of the Businessman’s Association. You tell them that, Kerney, tell the association what I said.” Chase raised one brow. “So I suppose you could say Lin-ese’s and my grandfather’s lives, and your own, are
in your
hands, Mayor.”

Chase watched the color drain from the mayor’s face and experienced a moment of pure, cold satisfaction. But the mayor rallied and dredged up one last particle of bravado.

“Then perhaps it would be safer for all concerned if you should be the one to have a small accident, Major Cor-dell.”

Chase grinned and focused on Kerney’s narrow little eyes. Facing his own fears and weaknesses had awakened a part of him that had been in slumber since his return to Main-field. He felt the warrior inside him spring forth at the threat.

“As you may have noticed, Mayor, I’m a hard man to kill. Several thousand Southern soldiers have already attempted to do that very thing, but if you’ve got a notion to try, I’ll be waiting. You come a-running anytime you’re ready.”

The mayor sat in stunned silence while Chase leaned away from the desk and stood up straight. He walked to the door, but stopped with his hand on the knob.

“Have a nice evening, Mayor. And I’m sure you will be interested in the editorials I’ll be putting in the
Gazette
from now on. I’ll see you have one delivered to your door every week—no charge—a gift from the Cordells.”

Chase rode home with his thoughts running faster than a swollen river. So many things had changed since Rancy had come to arrest his grandfather. He had finally emerged from a long, dark tunnel and at the end there was Linese, with her love shining like a beacon in the dark.

Images of her face swirled through his mind. Some of his recollections were old memories, disjointed pictures that Chase could not sort into any particular order. Some were new. It gave him a measure of peace to know that he was slowly regaining his memory. It was enough to make him start to believe he could become whole again. For the first
time since he had stepped off that train, he felt confident enough to let himself love his wife—completely.

Cordellane was quiet and dark. Chase walked into the library, lit a lamp and sloshed brandy into a glass. The liquid swirled in a dusky vortex. The crescent moon was just peeking through the tall windows at the back of the house.

It had taken him longer to get home than he had anticipated. He glanced toward the darkened staircase and wondered if Linese was still awake.

There was one more thing he had to do before he could be completely free of the dark cloud that had followed him for too long. He had to tell Linese about his loss of memory. She was the one person in this world who deserved to hear the entire truth.

Chase didn’t feel compelled to let anyone else know, but Linese merited his honesty. He wanted her to know exactly who he was now, and why.

He sighed and slammed back the glass of brandy. He dreaded telling her. He wanted to avoid it. Revealing his horrible weakness to her was going to be the hardest task of all, because he was afraid of losing her. But he loved her so much that no matter what happened, he had to be honest with Linese. It wasn’t fair for her to make decisions about their future without having all the facts. He regretted not telling her before. Guilt, fear and slumbering emotions so powerful they made his knees liquid had prevented him.

He turned the wick down until the flame guttered and went out, then he turned toward the stairs and took the first step toward his future.

The bedroom was dim. The sliver of moonlight coming through the open window provided enough light for him to undress, but little else.

Chase nearly gave in to the impulse to wake her, almost reached out and touched her in his desire to unburden himself now, tonight. But his concern for her well-being, her
comfort, won out. He could wait until morning, wait until she woke rested and doe eyed from sleep.

The mattress sagged a tiny bit under his weight when he got quietly into bed. With a flick of his wrist, the sheet settled back upon his bare legs and hips. Chase was instantly aware of Linese’s body heat dancing evenly down his shoulders, backside and thighs.

She is not wearing her nightgown.

The information was telegraphed to his brain with utter certainty. He squeezed the feather pillow in his clenched fists and fought to control his rising passion. He had waited this long, he could wait one more night.

Soft fingers suddenly touched the top ridge of his shoulder and he started at the unexpected contact. Linese trailed them, teasingly, seductively, down his spine, toward the small of his waist. There she paused and flattened out her hand. Chase’s astonished breath stuck in his throat.

She was not asleep. His temperature soared to a feverish state. Fire ignited beneath the petite expanse of her smooth palm when she started inching forward, molding her hand to fit each inch of his flesh, while she sculpted his body as an artisan might mold clay. She moved relentlessly toward the front side of his ribs, just above his hipbone. Her hands were roaming over his skin in a way that paralyzed his mind and his body.

Sweet Lord, give me strength,
his mind screamed silently, for Chase seemed to have lost the ability to speak, as well as the power to move. He was frozen and mute beneath the electric touch of her hand.

He must have breathed, but he wasn’t conscious of it. The only thing he was aware of was Linese’s fingers inching lower, closer, searing a path toward the throbbing heat at the core of his plight. His body vibrated with yearning and anticipation.

A scraping sound accompanied her nail’s contact with the hair on his belly. She twined her fingertips in a curl of hair she encountered below his navel and swirled her seductive,
smooth fingers in the whorl. The muscles in his gut jumped involuntarily and he heard his own breath hiss through his clenched teeth.