The First Law of Love (26 page)

“Case,” I said, leaning over the table.

The teasing fell from his face as he saw that I appeared concerned, and he leaned towards me too.

“Yancy is here, at the bar,” I told him.

Case looked that way for an instant, then back to my eyes. He said, “Call me crazy, but this doesn't seem like the kind of place that he'd hang out.”

“That's what I was thinking,” I said. “He nodded for me to join him,” and at this I shuddered inadvertently.

I saw the way Case's jaw tightened at this news, though he didn't react in any other way. Instead he said, “We play in about a half hour, but we'll situate you right by the stage, and Wy will sit with you.”

He was thinking of ways to protect me (though I honestly didn't feel overtly fearful of Derrick) and it made my heart swell and sing inside my chest. I said, changing the subject a little, “I can't wait to hear you play again.”

“Tell me what you want to hear, we'll play it,” he said softly.

“Your song,” I said at once. “The one you played at The Spoke last week.”

Case was totally still, almost as though he was holding his breath. He studied me intently and there were several things I sensed he wanted to say, but didn't. Finally he said, “I need the fiddle to play that one right. Next time we're around the fire, I promise.”

“It's a deal,” I agreed.

The rest of the food arrived then and the conversation swelled to include everyone once more, Marsh and Wy vying for attention, Garth telling Case that they better eat fast and make sure their amps were ready to go. I kept stealing long looks at Case, just across from me; he took off his hat before eating and I curled my fingers into my palms to keep from reaching to stroke his red-gold hair. If I was someone who prayed, I would pray to Melinda Spicer, his sweet mother, to thank her for the man before me. Again I felt pain, actual pain, at these thoughts. As though in the past two weeks, life had punched me hard in the chest, repeatedly.

“C'mon, Tish, these guys gotta get ready. We can sit and have dessert if you want though,” Wy told me amiably after we'd finished eating. “Hey, did you like the elk steak?”

In truth, I hadn't been able to eat much of it, my stomach in little hard knots of confusion, but I said, “Yes, it was delicious.”

Case walked close behind me as we all cut back through the bar, and once I felt his hand gently upon my lower back, as though to guide me as we maneuvered through the crowd, sending a spasm of sparks across my body. I stalled, leaning into his light touch; it was so packed with people that it wasn't an obvious ploy for him to keep touching me. But he did and I could have died it felt so good, his warm, strong hand that pressed just a little more firmly now.

I couldn't see his eyes, as he was behind me, but I imagined how he looked as he stroked me ever so gently, his fingers curling around the material of my t-shirt, his thumb moving slowly up and then down, the way he'd stroked my leg last night. I couldn't breathe. The crowd shifted enough that I couldn't remain standing still and Case let his hand move back to his side. My knees were actually weak. I thought of how I had knelt on his bed last night. How I had licked his pillow and probably left behind my earring.

“We're over here,” Case said, tipping near my left ear to tell me.

In the bar the tables were jammed with people; two men with black bandanas were running cords on stage. The Rawleys claimed a small table that was obviously reserved for us.

“You'll be all right here?” Case asked, still close behind me, and I turned enough to see his eyes. My heart absolutely shredded at the sight of him, going all to pieces; he appeared somber and intent, studying me from beneath his hat brim. If I was brave enough, I could have stood on tiptoe and put my arms right around his neck.

I nodded wordlessly and he stunned me by reaching and tucking a stray strand of hair, a loose curl, from the side of my forehead to behind my right ear. He let his fingertips just scarcely trace my jaw as he lowered his hand, and my knees did give out then; luckily for me, I was in the proximity of a chair.

“Tish!” Wy plopped near me as Case, Garth and Marsh carried their guitars up onto the stage. The boy said excitedly, “You wanna get some dessert?”

“Sure,” I said, not even having heard exactly what he'd asked; I was too busy watching Case as he extracted a dark blue electric guitar from its case and proceeded to hook it up to the proper cords, so efficiently, something he'd done hundreds of times, probably. All this time he'd been out here, living his life and I'd been living mine, back in Illinois. I wanted to chase myself back through those years and shake the shit out of the old me, the girl from Camille's wedding who had been so selfish and so cold. One of the guys in a black bandana was saying something that made Case laugh, and my heart again felt as though it was leaking something vital.

“Another drink?” asked the redheaded server. She leaned closer to Wy and me and nodded towards Marsh as he settled on the stool behind the drums, joking with Garth about something. She asked, “Is he your brother?”

Wy and I said, “Yes,” at the same time, and Wy grinned at my lie.

“What's his name?”

“Marshall,” I told her.

“He's so hot,” she said.

“He thinks so too,” Wy said, and she giggled.

“He's totally single,” I added, helpfully.

“Your next round's on me,” she said. “Sara. Nice to meet you.”

Just like last night, Case would send me a look every so often, a sweet and private look that I felt to the depths of my soul. I sipped my free beer and watched him right back, taking in every last detail; he was careful and loving with his instruments, just as he was with his horses. Tender touches on everything, his big hands with their long and knowing fingers that could tune a guitar just as effortlessly as he could saddle a horse, or pluck sage from the brush in the foothills, or tuck hair behind my ear.

His hair glinted under the bar lights, which also played over the angles of his face; he'd left his hat at the table and it was currently on the chair to my right, where I could reach over and put my fingertips on it, which I kept doing. He looked so damn sexy, tall and lean, his shoulders so wide, his unconsciously graceful movements, powerful and graceful at once. He seemed to have finished his ministrations on the guitar and sent me another look, smiling sweetly at me. I felt an answering smile move directly over my face.

The guys in bandanas finished up their work on the stage and jogged down the steps, back to the floor. Marsh settled behind the drums while Garth and Case took positions near the two floor mics, their electric guitars held near their hips. So totally sexy. The crowd rumbled and then a few cheers turned into a round of excited applause. I noticed for the first time that I recognized people from Jalesville here and there, before my eyes went straight back to Case, cradling his gleaming, dark blue instrument.

“Hi folks, how're you doing this fine evening?” Garth asked. There were raucous whoops and cheers, and he said, “
Fuck
yeah.”

“
We love you!
” called a woman, and Garth grinned and then winked at her; all the Rawley boys had good winks.

“I came out of retirement, just for tonight,” Garth said. “And it feels pretty damn good.” There were more cheers at this, louder than before, and Garth ordered, “So don't fucking disappoint me. I want to see asses on the dance floor, people.”

And with that he led the guitar into the first few bars of “Welcome to the Jungle,” while the crowd went insane. Marsh was wild on the drums and Case tipped his chin, lashes lowered, the bar lights flickering over his handsome face, completely overtaken in the music as his fingers curved and flew to make music, keeping time with his wide shoulders, as though unconsciously, stroking that electric guitar like it was a woman he could not touch enough…

Oh God, look at him. Oh my God. I can
'
t handle it. I just plain can
'
t handle it.

Sometimes when I looked at him the absolute only thing I could think of was how he came to me in my dreams at night, his mouth on my breasts, hot and luscious on my skin, bringing me to orgasm in my sleep. And right now was one of those times. Clutching my icy beer bottle by the neck, I held it to the side of my own and struggled for composure. If I had even one more sip, I would lose my tentative hold on my inhibitions and rush the stage.

After the first song they were laughing, the crowd hot for more; there were plenty of women stalking the stage, I noticed, and felt my fingers become talons. The three of them played and sang with such joy, effortlessly, leading from one rock song to the next, and I could not tear my eyes from Case; he returned my looks every so often, smiling with his eyes, as though to reassure me that everything was all right.

Later, as they led into “Wanted Dead or Alive,” he sent me a longer look, a hint of a smile on his lips. And suddenly everything else in the crowded, busy, chaotic bar faded to a gray haze in the distance, receded to nothing; all I could see was Case, his eyes, his eyes intense upon mine, re-forging a connection that had always been there, broiling just beneath the surface. Thoughts and images suddenly shattered through me, sharp as broken glass.

I
'
ve known you. I
'
ve known you far beyond this place and this time
…

I know this. I can
'
t explain it, but I know it.

I saw him on horseback then, but under the blazing sun, his beautiful hair afire with sparks before he resettled his hat. Looking back over his shoulder at me, where I sat high atop a wagon seat, distant from him.

Come to me, I
'
ll wait for you beyond the horses
, he whispered in my ear, in a moment we risked stealing, kissing my neck, my lips, my breasts through the layers of my gown. I clung to him as hard as I could. My wedding band caught the sun and glinted, while the very air around us crackled with heat. His strong hands were gliding up my legs, beneath my long, heavy skirts. There was an urgency that I could sense before I understood.

I will not risk it
, I told him intently.
I will not put you in danger
…

If we were caught they would kill us, this I knew. Or, far worse, they would kill him to punish me.

I will protect you
, he told me, his hands in my hair, upon my face, clutching my hips.
I swear to you. Please, come to me, I will not live through another night without you
…

I will
, I promised, unable to deny him, scarcely able to breathe.
Oh God, I will come to you
…

I blinked and felt myself reel, returned abruptly from the prairie in my mind to the crowded, noisy barroom; I rose too quickly and told Wy, “I'm going to the bathroom.”

I sensed Case still watching me, worried, as I made my way through the crowd and I looked back at him.

It
'
s all right
, I told him with my eyes.
I just need a second
…

In the bathroom for the second time, I bent over the sink and splashed my face with icy water. Some dripped down the neck of my t-shirt and I let the cold of it shock my senses into something resembling reason.

What the hell?

What in the hell was that? Am I going crazy?

I drew a deep breath and knew longing. Knew need. Knew these things to the interiors of my bones.

Case. Oh God, Case
…

We have belonged to each other before now
…

I realized that I could not stay in here, hiding out; as though to emphasize the point, a toilet flushed. I startled at the sound and pushed back out the door, my hands shaking a little. And almost immediately a voice beside me asked conversationally, “Are you dating him then? Or just fucking him?”

I snapped back to reality with a vengeance, encountering a sound I knew all too well – that of a man who'd had a few too many shots of hard liquor. I turned to see Derrick leaning one shoulder against the wall near the bathrooms, in dress pants and a shirt with the top collar button undone. He was clearly shit-tanked, as Case had said last night, describing his own grandfather.

“You're drunk, so I'm going to forget what you just said,” I told him, trying for a steady voice. “And nothing I do is any of your business.”

“You'd think in a hick town like Jalesville there'd be corrals full of slutty girls I could fuck, but so far no. And then there's
you
. I can't stop thinking about fucking you.” He watched me intently as he slurred through this little speech. Beside him, the door to the men's room opened and emitted a guy who gave us a curious look. There was a wall separating the bathrooms from the bar and I could hear Garth joking with the crowd between songs, though I couldn't see them.

And I desperately wanted to see Case, I wanted to put my eyes upon him, if I couldn't put my hands.

Derrick blocked my path, weaving slightly he was so drunk, and this unexpected version of him made my stomach knot even more tightly, this time with a hint of real fear. I adopted my best lawyer voice and said, “I'm going to ignore that too, if it's all the same to you.”

“What do you see in that goddamn yokel?” he asked then.

I felt my eyebrows draw together, more stunned by the second. He sounded like a frighteningly jealous boyfriend.

Derrick narrowed his eyes at me, as though trying to see into my mind. He shook his head a little in the manner of someone trying to clear his thoughts and then managed to say, “He killed him, you know.
Coward
. Shot him in the back. Fucker has it coming now.”

My own vision wavered and I felt caught up in whatever it was he was talking about, as though I somehow understood. But I demanded, “What are you
talking
about? Killed who?”