Jodi Thomas (30 page)

His hopes crumbled.

“Then,” Chance grabbed his rifle and was out the door before he finished his sentence, “I’d better get to work. I wouldn’t want you to feel I cheated you.”

He stormed across the yard until he reached the darkest part of the corral.

Leaning against the barn wall, he pushed his shoulders into the wood. What was the matter with him? Or was it her? He no longer knew where the trouble lay. The sky cracked apart with lightning and Chance felt like his heart was splitting also. Moving into the wooded area beside the stream, he leaned against an aging pecan tree and listened to the raindrops plopping into the stream. Dear God, how he wished the rain could wash her from his mind; but she was there, carved into his very heart, and she would be there until the day he died. Yet every time he tried to get closer, she pushed him away as easily as she swept dust from the steps.

Anna was within a few feet of him before he heard her soft steps. He whirled, his gun ready as she moved under the protection of the trees. In the flashing light she looked nervous and Chance knew the lightning bothered her as much as it did Maggie.

“I’ve come to talk with you alone.” Anna’s voice was shaking as the storm continued to frighten her.

“Now’s a good time. There isn’t a soul alive who’ll hear us over this storm.” He wanted to hold her, to brush away her fear, but her stance told him she’d come to talk, and she planned to say what was on her mind, storm or no storm. “So if you came out here to say something, get it said.”

“It’s not your place to go settle things with the Indians. Let the men of the colony fight this battle.” Anna shot out at Chance with an anger born of fear.

Resting one hand on the branch above her head, Chance yelled over the thunder, “I know you consider me your hired hand, but I care about this settlement. I don’t have to be German to hope these people aren’t murdered. If I left and made peace for them with the Indians, we’d all be safer in the long run.”

Anna could feel the blood climbing up her neck like fire over dry brush. “You will not go!” she screamed, then bit her lip as if to bite back the words.

“What is that? Another order?” Chance was so close she could feel the heat of his words upon her face, but she stood there, silent and proud, as he continued. “Are you ordering me, or mothering me? You seem to do quite a lot of both. I’m a man, not your slave or your child.”

Anna’s old fears stirred inside her. “I’m older than you.” She said the words as if they mattered, while hot tears stung her eyes and the cool wind brushed her cheeks in bone-chilling contrast.

With force born of desperation, Chance’s arm went around her waist, slamming her against the hard wall of his chest before she could react. “I’m man enough to be a husband to you.” Chance’s words were low in her ear as his lips slid across her cheek and found her mouth. He’d wanted to hold her like this for so long, wanted to feel her body yielding to his. “I’m man enough to give you what you want, Anna.”

His kiss was hard and demanding, bearing all the desire he’d bottled up inside him over the months. As the minutes passed and she didn’t fight, Chance’s mouth softened. He tasted the sweetness of Anna’s lips as he’d longed to do every day and night they’d been together. Her body felt so right in his arms. Her full breasts flattened against his chest, almost driving him insane with their softness. She smelled of soap and honey and home.

Covering her mouth with his own, he moved his hands along her back, molding her to him with each stroke. Her lips opened in a soft cry and he tasted the inside of her mouth. It was far sweeter than he’d imagined. Without letting her mouth free, he slid his finger to her shoulder and pulled the blouse open with one tug. Her breast stood exposed to the damp air only a moment before his hand covered it. The softness of her was maddening as he moved his fingers over the flesh he’d seen so often. The touch of her skin against his palm satisfied a need as deep inside him as the need to breathe. He circled her tender mound and felt the nipple tighten to the touch of his callused hand.

Breaking his kiss, he moved his mouth against her hair and whispered, “Dear God, you feel so wonderful. How I’ve dreamed of touching you like this—of holding you.” She didn’t move but remained still even as he kissed her neck and pulled her waist against the center of his need. “Anna, do you know how you’ve taught me desire these past months? I’ve never known such a fire. You are so lovely, my Anna, my wife.”

He was drunk with her nearness. He’d sipped passion’s awakening all day with the memory of the way she’d touched the sheets where he’d lain. He knew she wanted him, but he’d never dreamed he’d hold her in anything but a protective embrace. Now he’d opened the door to passion and it flooded his senses, overwhelming him with pleasure. He held her against him with one iron arm as his free hand roamed her body, loving the feel of her against him. As his fingers moved into her hair, he gently pulled, drawing her head back so he could once more taste her mouth. She was motionless in his arms as he bruised her lips in his eagerness and allowed his fingers to move from her neck down her open blouse to her breasts. Her flesh was softer than anything he’d ever touched and he spread his palm wide to feel every wonderful inch. Lightning flashed and she jerked as he pulled the material free to her waist, but he held her tighter, kissing her deeply to stop all her fears.

Chance pulled slightly away to look into her beautiful green eyes and see the dark fires burning in her as well—but there were none. He’d seen love when she’d looked at the baby and laughter when she talked with Maggie and determination when she’d argued; but never had he seen passion and there was none now.

The sight before him sobered Chance. He saw only stone coldness in her green depths. There was no fire, no desire. Her eyes were as lifeless as a china doll’s in a store window. She stared straight ahead in terror, her hands at her sides, her breathing only a shallow whisper.

Fear touched Chance’s heart. “Anna, what’s wrong? What’s the matter?” She was acting as if she’d never tasted passion on a man’s lips, as if she’d never known love. He cupped her face in his hands. “Anna, what is the matter!” he screamed, not even knowing if she could hear him.

Her words froze the air between them. “You are my husband. Would you rape me and leave me with child as my first husband did?”

Chance’s arm dropped. All the anger, all the bitterness passed from him and a sorrow as wide as a river filled him. He felt he might drown in the pain of her words.

“Anna, I wasn’t raping you. I’d never rape you. I thought you wanted my touch, my kiss. If you didn’t, why didn’t you fight me or push me away?”

“I fought once. I fought with all my strength. He beat me unconscious and slowly raped me.” Anger was tightening the strings of her emotions. She gulped air as if someone had been smothering her; then her words exploded from her. “Each time I came to enough to scream, he hit me again. He’d cover my mouth with his own as he pounded his fists into my body. When I’d stop screaming, he’d slap me over and over just to make sure I wouldn’t make a sound, then he’d start raping me again, all the time saying he was sorry. All the time calling my mother’s name.”

Anna turned to run but Chance grabbed her arm. “Stay,” he ordered. “I want to hear it all.” Hearing her words was like looking at some horrible painting. He wanted to turn away, but he had to look closer.

“No!” Anna screamed and pulled away like a frightened animal caught in a trap.

“Yes!” Chance answered. “There is too much between us for you not to be honest now. Tell me, by God, or I swear we’ll stand here all night.”

Anna gulped back the tears and nodded. The whole world seemed to be crying for her. “The night I was raped, I found out my husband . . . and mother were lovers. He’d married me so that he could have my mother in his house without scandal since we had no proof that my father was dead. I was young and naive enough to believe he only wanted to protect me because he’d been a friend of the family all my life.” She held her blouse closed with both hands. “He’d told me he was unable to do what men and women do when they are married. When he asked me to marry him, he promised never to come to my bed. I was to remain his wife to society and in exchange he’d provide for me and my mother. Only as I grew older I looked more and more like my mother had when they’d met, and William grew bored with her.”

Chance pulled Anna into his arms and stroked her hair as she cried. “Don’t be afraid of me, Anna,” he whispered, but she was stiff in his arms. “I’m not William. I could never hurt you.”

Looking up, Anna saw only the past as she added, “William planned to leave Mother and take me with him to America. They’d had a horrible fight the night he raped me. It was stormy outside, and I thought their words were part of the thunder for a long time. Then, half drunk, he came to my room as if by doing so he would end the argument between them once and for all. At first I thought he only wanted to frighten me. I thought he was playing one of the games with me he sometimes played to show he had power. I cried for my mother’s help. When she saw William in my bed she ran screaming, not caring about me. She didn’t even try to stop him from raping me. William took great pleasure in telling me how many times he’d mounted my mother while we had been married. And each time I cried, he’d slap me over and over, yelling for me to stay quiet until he was through with me. Then he’d climb on top of me and call me by her name.” Anna was silent for a long moment.

Thunder rattled more tears loose from the clouds as she continued. “We found her the next morning floating in the lake. It wasn’t me she cared about, but the loss of her lover. If she’d cared for me at all, she never would have left me alone with him. I watched her body riding on the muddy water and I didn’t care that she was dead, because part of me was dead also.”

Anna pushed away from Chance. “William grieved for her and blamed me for her death. He promised never to touch me again if I’d come with him. When he was sober, he could be quite rational. The only thing we shared was a desire to keep the reason for my mother’s death a secret. We let the town believe she’d gone mad.”

Turning to face the dim light coming from the cabin, Anna continued. “I had no family, no home. I had to come with William. But one night on board the ship he took me again, the same as before. Only this time I knew better than to scream and take a beating with the rape.”

“But wouldn’t the folks on board help?” Chance saw the hatred of all men in her eyes.

“No man would interfere with a married couple. If anything, they would have hated me. They already saw how cold I was toward him and whispered about it. All I could do was lay there and pray for the pain to end. He was drunk and already a little sick from the bad food. It took a long time and afterward I went on deck to vomit. I thought of throwing myself into the ocean, but the memory of my mother’s floating body kept me from taking my own life.”

“I’m so sorry.” Chance wanted to comfort her, but she stepped back each time he neared.

Anna lifted her chin. “I don’t want your pity and I don’t want your love. I don’t want anything from you beyond our bargain and your word that come January you’ll be gone. Every man I’ve ever known has lied to me. I’d like to know that once, just once, there was a man who would keep his word.”

“Anna . . .” Chance whispered.

Raising her hand as though she could stop anything he was about to say, she shouted, “No. Don’t say more. I’m not like my mother. I’m strong. I don’t need anyone.”

Showing no sign of even feeling the rain that pounded from above, she ran back to the house. For months he’d thought she couldn’t bear his touch because she’d known another love, and now he knew all proud, silent Anna had ever known was rape.

Chance stared up at the sky, not knowing if the water on his face was rain or tears. One realization hit him like a bolt of white lightning. He loved Anna and would love her till the day he died . . . even if he never touched her again.

T
he rain continued through most of the night and soaked Chance to the bone as he sat beneath the trees watching the cabin. He wanted to follow Anna, but he knew she would only see him as part of the problem. His hatred for her first husband was so strong he knew he could easily have killed the man if William were still alive. How could any man have treated Anna so badly? How could he have frightened her so completely that she’d lost the instinct to fight?

Cursing himself, Chance remembered the rough way he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He thought over all the times she’d stared at him and let him kiss her lightly, without passion. He thought of the way she’d touched the sheets and watched his hand when he’d stroked Maggie. She wanted him, he was sure of it, but not in the way he’d reasoned. She wanted to be held and protected, but not loved—not in the way a man loves a woman.

Chance swore in every language he knew. He wondered if he could live with Anna the rest of the year and never do more than hold her. Would she allow him even that after the way he’d acted? Could he leave and prove his honor when the year was over even though the cost would be his very soul? Her nearness had taught him the meaning of desire, and now her withdrawal would test his self-control.

As a golden dawn spread across the hills, Chance picked up two buttons from the wet grass. He held them in his fist and set his will to iron.

A few moments later he walked into the cabin. Not a sound came from the shadows, but the smell of coffee welcomed him. Anna was sitting at the table. He knew she’d heard him come in, but she didn’t look up. She was slowly picking the hairs from her brush and storing them in her hair receiver.

“Morning,” Chance whispered as he poured himself a cup of coffee and straddled the bench beside her.

Anna looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “You’re dripping wet.” She stood to get a towel.