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Chase looked up at her and grimaced. The gesture was an aspect of pure irony—or dread. Uncertainty shone in his gunmetal gray eyes for the first time in Linese’s recollection.
“What have you been doing to fill your days while I’ve been gone?” He answered her question with one of his own.
She frowned. He focused on her face intently. He seemed to be perched on the edge of his chair, waiting for her answer with as much anticipation as she had been awaiting his reply only a heartbeat before. Much to Linese’s chagrin she had somehow traded places, and now Chase was the inquisitor. Panic welled up inside her chest.
Chase’s dour warning about women who nudged their way into a man’s world rang inside her head. If he learned she had spent nearly every day at the Gazette working, would he banish her from his bed forever? Would there be any hope of recapturing the passion they had once shared? Or would it, as she suspected, drive a bigger wedge between them and crush their fragile relationship before it had a chance to live again?
She knew she would tell him the truth about the Gazette, but not now.
Her head swam. It was no secret to people in town that she went to the office each day. Chase would probably hear that information from any number of men in Mainfield who would see fit to let him know what had happened in his absence.
The only real secret she kept from him was what she did once she arrived at the Gazette—a secret only she and Hez-ikiah shared. The good people, most particularly the businessmen of Mainfield, would be shocked to learn the words they read calling for loyalty and commitment were her own thoughts and not those of Hezikiah Hershner.
Chase cleared his throat and she knew the silence between them had gone on too long. He was still staring at her with his brows drawing more firmly together.
“I, uh, I spent some time with Hezikiah,” Linese stammered.
Chase gnawed the inside of his jaw and forced his mind to link the threads of information together. Linese had mentioned Hezikiah’s name yesterday, at the newspaper office. Her letters had spoken of him in passing. Chase searched his mind for some hard fact of memory. Nothing tangible floated to the top of the murk inside his head. He did not know who Hezikiah Hershner was, or why his wife would spend time with him. He took a desperate risk and plunged forward like a blind man on the edge of a cliff.
“Then let me escort you to Mainfield to see him today.” Chase forced a stiff smile to his lips, and even while he was doing so, a tiny part of his mind mulled over the idea that his wife had been spending time with another man.
He found himself scowling at the notion while he chided himself for having such preposterous feelings about a woman he only remembered meeting yesterday. It was absurd, yet the feeling of annoyance lingered despite his efforts to wipe it from his mind.
Linese watched Chase’s face in confusion. He seemed to want her company. That fact both elated and perplexed her. If he wanted to be with her, then why did he stay away from their bed? She felt as if she were trying to balance on the sharp edge of a sword, one misstep either way would end their fragile marriage.
“All right. I’m sure Hezikiah will be pleased to see you, and of course you will probably want to talk to him about the operation of the paper, now that you’ve returned.”
“Perhaps,” he said noncommittally. Each time he opened his mouth he had the sensation of facing enemy cannon fire. And mention of this man had brought an unexplainable edginess to him. He had not expected one thing to lead to the other.
He had no memory of the paper or what was involved in the running of it. By going back to Mainfield today he was setting himself up for possible disaster. Yet, he was going to have to find out what he had done before the war—and he had a burning desire to quench his curiosity about Hersh-ner. The question was, could he delve into his past and discover the man he was without revealing to Linese that he was going mad?
Chase shifted uncomfortably in the narrow buggy seat. He was acutely aware of Linese sitting next to him. He tried to keep his mind on the horse, but it was difficult to ignore his lovely wife. He wrapped his fingers tighter around the reins and told himself not to steal sidelong glances at Linese every few minutes like a gourd-green youth, but it did no good. His eyes strayed toward her against his will.
She was wearing gloves again. It was a puzzling habit. Chase wondered how she could keep from withering in the damnable heat, much less wear gloves. He noticed that the oppressive humidity cast a healthy glow across her cheeks and made her lips dewy. Her figure was good and she had a quality of tranquility that drew him like a bee to a flower.
She was pretty, and he was only human. Knowing he had held her in the past, at least on the occasion of their wedding night, only made his dilemma worse. It was like trying to remember the words to a familiar tune only to have your mind go blank and leave you humming off-key in frustration.
He squirmed again and tried to focus on something other than her, but it was useless. All night he had paced the floor and racked his brain, trying to remember her. He forced himself to think of the smooth gold band on her finger, to try and remember placing it there, but he could not. When the pinking dawn found him, he was exhausted and more disheartened than when he’d stepped off the train. There was not one single recollection about the woman who was his wife, or his life in this place he had once called home.
Chase pulled the reins taut and the buggy slowed to a stop in front of the Gazette. The heat shimmered up from the hard-packed street in waves. Luckily, he had managed to remember the route young Toby had used to take them home yesterday. Each store and landmark he saw, each face and name, he committed to memory in the hopes he could continue his charade for one more hour, one more day.
“It’s too hot for you to walk,” he stated. “I’ll let you out here and take the buggy back to the livery.”
He climbed down from the buggy and allowed himself to look up at Linese. She turned to him and her cool-water blue eyes sliced a path from his head to his belly. He wasn’t going to keep his secret very long if he kept falling into the depths of those eyes each time he looked at her.
“That’s very kind of you, Chase.” She picked up her full skirt and scooted close to the edge of the seat so he could help her to the ground. Linese’s voice resonated with obvious surprise at his suggestion.
He was taken aback by her response. Was his kindness something she didn’t expect? Another suspicious doubt about the kind of man he had been in the past snaked its way into his consciousness. What kind of treatment had he given his young wife before he left her? Was he exposing himself by extending the most common courtesy?
Chase grasped her gloved hand and prepared to help her from the buggy. He found himself wondering again why she wore the gloves when it was so hot. He wanted to ask her, then choked back the words. What if he was already supposed to know? There were a million questions he had about this woman and what they had shared, and no way to find any answers without subjecting himself to ridicule, or worse yet—her pity.
“Chase? Is something wrong?” Her voice snapped him out of his trance.
He discovered that he was holding her, suspended halfway between the buggy and the ground. Her shoes hovered several inches above the earth. For a tiny fraction of time his brain registered how pleasant it was to have her so near. A hot flush of embarrassment flooded his cheeks.
“No, nothing is wrong. Nothing at all.” His voice was gruff with the lie.
She flinched at his tone and he saw her blink rapidly for a minute. Was she holding back tears? Dear God, if she cried he would be undone. The temptation to hold her for another minute or two tugged at him, but he let her down to the ground and tore his eyes away from her face. He climbed stiffly back into the seat without meeting her gaze again.
Chase gathered the reins and drove the buggy down the street, but when he reached the corner, he could stand it no more. He gave in to his impulse and glanced back.
Linese was watching him. For an instant their gazes met and he felt something flit through his mind, but before he could analyze whether it was a memory, it winnowed away. Chase swallowed his disappointment and urged the horse on to Goten’s Livery.
The man Linese had pointed out as being Ira Goten was raking manure at the side of the stable when Chase stopped the buggy. A slick sorrel with wild white-ringed eyes poked his head out of a stall at the back of the stable and nickered at the new arrival.
“Morning, Major.” Ira leaned on his rake handle and watched Chase lead the horse and buggy toward the back of the barn.
“’Morning, Mr. Goten. I’d like to keep the horse here while my wife and I are at the Gazette—if that’s all right,” Chase explained.
Ira smiled and gave a little snort. “Mr. Goten? No need to be so formal with me, Chase. I’ve been wondering when you’d stop by. Come inside. I have something of yours I’ve been meaning to return to you.”
“Something of mine?” Chase swallowed hard. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the man who evidently knew him, and once again found his own memory blank.
“Tie your horse up here, I’ll see to him in a bit.” Ira placed the rake against the fence and led the way inside the stable.
The mustiness of grain, straw and horse sweat filled the air. Chase paused a minute to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim light. There was a harness spread out on the floor and assorted tools were scattered around in the dirt and grain chaff. Chase watched Ira stride to a corner and move a wooden box out of the way. Then he squeezed his lean body into a dark cranny where he lifted the lid off a staved barrel.
The aroma of cracked corn filled the air while Ira dug through the grain with his bare hands. His arm disappeared nearly to the shoulder before he smiled and started to pull it out.
“There, I’ve finally got it.”
Ira shook the bits of corn off his arm while he extracted it from the barrel. When his hand reappeared, he was clutching an oilskin-wrapped bundle.
“I kept it real nice for you.” Ira Goten thrust the bundle toward Chase.”I see your hand hardly scarred at all.”
Chase followed the man’s gaze to the narrow white scar on the back of his right hand. He didn’t know how he got it, but it was plain Ira Goten knew. Some deep instinct inside Chase told him not to touch the bundle the man held out to him, but he ignored the silent warning within his head. Whatever was concealed inside the oilskin, it was a link to his past, a bit of the puzzle he longed to piece together. He reached out and took the object from Ira’s hands.
The bundle was hard and moderately heavy in his grasp. He allowed his fingers to wrap around it while curiosity burned inside him. No recall came attached to the object. He wanted to pull back the covering and see what he held, but Ira Goten was watching him, so he forced himself to wait.
“I never did get a chance to talk to you again before you left. We were damned lucky that night in Ferrin County, weren’t we?” Ira smiled but it was a cheerless expression. “We did what we had to for the cause, didn’t we, Chase? And now you’ve come home a major with all kinds of decorations.” Ira shook his head from side to side as if amazed by the outcome of Chase’s time in the war.
Finally, Chase could wait no longer. He turned the oilskin over and untied it. Slowly, to hide his eagerness, he pulled back the covering until the barrel of a Colt appeared.
“Yep, it’s just like you left it.” Ira reached into one oversize pocket of his overalls and pulled out a small leather bag. Ira dropped the bag into Chase’s empty hand with a metallic plop that was surely money. “I intended to give you this, as well.”
“What—?” Chase asked under his breath.
“Take it. God knows you earned it. I kept it for you all the while you were gone.”
He knew what he would see before he ever pulled the cords at the top to look inside the bag. The sound had been clear and unmistakable. Just as he’d expected, a stack of gold coins was nestled in the bottom of the leather pouch.
Chase yanked the top closed. He couldn’t look at the money. Holding the gun in his hand, hearing what Goten said, he was afraid to think of what he had done to get the coins.
He looked up at Ira Goten’s lean, weathered face and found himself wondering what kind of man he had been before he rode off to war. What was he involved in that would compel this man to keep a gun hidden for two years? And how much blood stained the small bag of gold coins in his hand?
Chase dumped the gold coins deep into his trouser pocket. He tossed the small leather bag in a heap of manure outside Ira’s barn, then he slid the Colt beneath the buggy seat. His head ached from trying to remember what they signified. Now he found himself dreading the moment when he might actually remember his past. Only hours ago it had been the most important task in his life, now he was apprehensive that he might find himself face-to-face with a past he could take no pride in, a past that might shame him more than his grandfather’s feeble mind.
While Chase walked to the Gazette, he was occupied with nothing but questions about his past life. Each time he searched his mind for answers, all he found were more murky questions. And when he looked at his grandfather, he felt a mingling of fear and an overwhelming responsibility to protect and shield the old man from ridicule.
Chase sighed and ran his hand through his hair while he strode unevenly down the alleyway. He had confronted nothing but mystery since he stepped off the train. First, his wife seemed surprised when he showed her the most basic kindness, which made him question their former relationship, now he’d been given a hidden weapon and Chase knew there was a damned good chance he had used it to obtain the gold Ira handed him.
He was beginning to think returning to Mainfield had been a mistake. Everything and everyone he met made him want to turn around and ride out, to lose himself in obscurity, to forget about finding his lost self. Everyone except for Linese.
Linese made him want to stay. Her shy smile and delicate features lured him toward the unknown. The thought that he could reclaim a past they had shared made him want to challenge his fears, to probe his past. She was an anchor in a sea of doubt and despair. He realized that even though he had no real feeling for her that he could recall, no actual memory of having fallen in love with her, he was glad she was his wife. He was glad she was the woman who had waited two years for his return.
The sudden realization brought a cold fist of sadness to Chase. If not for the fear of his infirmity being discovered, he would gladly seek comfort in Linese’s arms. It was a bittersweet truth to face. He would happily allow himself to be a real husband to her, if not for the possibility of her comparing him now to the man he had been.
Chase feared she would find the present persona of himself sadly lacking. She had known him in a way no other person could have known him. Any slip of the tongue, any mistake in action would bring the truth crashing around him like grapeshot. That one fact forced him to keep a rock-solid wall between himself and Linese.
Chase was still lost in his own private hell when he stepped through the door of the newspaper office and found himself toe-to-toe with Mayor Kerney. The shorter man looked up at him. Chase glanced around and found a small group of well-dressed, prosperous-looking men inside the Gazette. One man was verbally haranguing a whipcord-thin fellow covered from chin to toe in black ink. Linese was standing in the corner of the room watching the whole scene in tight-lipped but silent disapproval. She still had her gloves on and held her bonnet stiffly in one hand.
The besmudged man turned away from his inquisitor and looked at Chase. His black eyes glittered with intelligent irritation. Chase surmised he was staring at Hezikiah Hersh-ner and he felt a measure of relief.
He knew it was foolish that, under the circumstances, he would have begrudged Linese the company of a young, handsome man in his absence, but he admitted to himself he was glad Hezikiah was twice his age and plain as pudding.
“I’m glad you’ve arrived, Major. These gentlemen want to talk to the newspaper editor about certain plans they have,” Hezikiah told Chase curtly.
Chase saw the printer’s gaze slide over to Linese. She lowered her eyes and flushed a pretty rose under the man’s pointed attention. Hershner stared at her as if he expected her to say something more, but she remained silent under Chase’s gaze. He had the feeling there was much more going on beneath the cool exterior of Linese’s proper manners and demure silence. He tried to quell the sharp, yearning desire he had to explore her depths. With little enthusiasm, Chase forced himself to look back at Mayor Ker-ney and away from the beautiful mystery he was married to.
The mayor stepped forward. Chase remembered the long-winded speech he had suffered through at the train station and cringed inwardly. It was too damned hot, and his head hurt from trying to remember Ira Goten and his mysterious gifts, to be subjected to another political sermon.
“I told you, Hershner. Major Cordell will be pleased to see us and just as pleased to hear what we have to say.” The mayor winked at Chase as if they shared a confidence. Doubt about his past came seeping back into his limbs like cold water into a sponge.
Hezikiah turned back toward the press. He mumbled something under his breath that Chase couldn’t quite make out.
“Why don’t you step into my husband’s office, Mayor Kerney,” Linese gestured to a door that cut a wall in two equal sections. “I’m sure you will want to speak privately.”
Chase didn’t have the slightest idea what the men wanted to speak to him about, and he didn’t want to speak with them privately or any other way. He grasped Linese’s gloved hand in his own and looked down at her. When he stared into her eyes he felt an internal tug. For one moment he thought he might remember her, but he was wrong, and the strange notion evaporated from his mind. Disappointment left him feeling empty and more alone.
He knew it was foolish to want her with him, but he did. When she stood beside him, he felt less like a trapped animal.
“Linese.” He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “I’d like you to be with me in case I have any questions about—about the Gazette—about what’s been going on while I was away.” He marveled at how easily the lie slipped from his tongue. Had he been a liar in the past or was this aspect of his murky personality something new?
“You want me to be there while you talk business?” she murmured softly.
“Yes.” Chase watched Linese scan his face with innocent blue eyes that turned him inside out. She had the ability to make him feel stripped bare to the bone, make him feel more of a man and less of a man than he was now. His belly twisted painfully while he wondered if he had been a better man in past. Surely he must have been to have won such a prize as her.
Linese studied Chase’s face and tried to understand the man who had returned to her. Chase had met with the mayor and the members of the local business association on at least two occasions after he brought her to Mainfield. He had made it plain at both meetings that he did not want her around, just as he’d made it clear that women should have no opinion about business. Her head swam while she tried to reason out the change two years of war had wrought. Finally she simply allowed herself to answer, even though she had no idea how or why his attitudes were so different than they used to be. “All right, Chase, if that is what you want.”
“It is what I want, Linese.” He impulsively gave her hand a little squeeze as a sort of silent thank-you.
Her cheeks flushed prettily when he stared at her a moment longer than propriety dictated he should gaze at his wife in front of the mayor and his associates. He heard one of them clear his throat in annoyance or possibly discomfort while time seemed to hang suspended. A strange sensation began to creep over Chase. It was like witnessing the first dawn. The feeling flooding through him was like watching sunrise turn pitch to a paler shade of gray. Each time he looked at Linese he felt a small part of the bleak places in his mind recede.
He felt something for her then, something more than simple indebtedness, and not only the strong physical attraction he could not deny. His heart was buffeted by an emotion infinitely more complicated and undefinable. Whatever the unique awareness was, it was just as potent and threatening to him as his fear of being exposed. Linese had a power over him, a power that fascinated and disturbed him. He craved her company at the same moment he feared her nearness. It was a puzzle Chase didn’t understand, but he would have to think about it later since the businessmen were waiting to speak with him. Chase tore his gaze from Linese and managed a smile.
“Gentlemen,” he said, and gestured to the doorway.
All the men who had been in the outer office managed to squeeze into the cramped confines of the smaller one. Chase felt his body shoved against Linese while he made room for the pudgy mayor.
Finally the door slammed shut and the mayor took a deep breath that threatened to empty the room of oxygen. “Chase, the Businessman’s Association met this morning at my office.”
Chase glanced down at the top of Linese’s head and noticed the soft, silky texture of her pale hair. The scent of honeysuckle blossoms and starched cotton wafted up from her body, while the temperature in the small office rose in accordance with the hot air the mayor was expelling. He struggled to listen to what the man was saying, but his mind was more occupied with the way Linese’s body fit next to his own.
There was a curiosity within him. A need to know her, not just to remember her, but to know the mystery that made her so special. He forced himself to focus on the mayor’s words.
“…we want you to write a series of articles about the way the prominent citizens of Mainfield have handled this conflict. We have managed to come out of this with a little profit, there is no reason why other people in this community can’t do the same thing.” The mayor looked at Chase with an excited expectancy shining in his face. “It could mean real power to Mainfield—and you—if you get my meaning.”
Chase’s belly flip-flopped. He didn’t understand the mayor’s meaning. “I’m not sure I do.”
Kerney looked at him with narrowed eyes. “As long as we remain neutral and don’t get involved with abolitionists or secessionists, as long as we remember that prosperity can come out of war, we can turn this to our advantage. It’s up to you, Chase. The people of Mainfield will listen to the Gazette. You could make a real difference to them. If you speak out and tell them to refuse to go with either side, they can all profit from this. Besides, do we care who wins? The real issue is how much profit we can make during the conflict.”
Chase felt his gut plummet to the bottom of his boots. What he had seen reflected in the eyes of the men in the infirmary while he was healing were memories he would carry forever. Those men, both Unionist and Rebel, had given all they had for their ideals. Now Mayor Kerney was telling him that as long as men could forget having ideals, and think only about profit, they could benefit from the war. His mind rebelled against the notion.
Chase didn’t remember the kind of man he was before he rode away two years ago. But the person he was now didn’t care about becoming powerful, or rich. He could not lie and say a man’s convictions didn’t matter—because in the end they were about the only things that did matter.
Silence stretched on while the men looked at Chase. There was something in their faces, something dark and familiar and almost expectant. The chaos in Chase’s soul was matched by the windstorm in his mind. He glanced at Lin-ese and saw nothing but innocence and trust shining in her eyes. He didn’t know what his association had been with these men in the past, but he knew where his responsibility lay today.
It was with Linese. She was saddled with a husband who could not remember her. She had lost so much in the war, perhaps even more than he had himself.
He wanted to see her smile. He wanted to do something that would take away the sting of guilt he felt each time he thought of her waiting for a man who had not returned to her.
“That is a mighty great responsibility, Mayor.” Chase slipped his arm around Linese and drew her close to him, partly for effect, partly because he wanted to feel her warmth against him. Even through the heavy-boned corset he felt her start at the unexpected contact of his hip against her. “All I want to do right now is get reacquainted with my wife.”
Linese’s head snapped up to stare gape-mouthed at Chase. The men in the room murmured with surprise. She fought to control her reaction. She had been raised to be a lady, and a lady never betrayed her feelings in public, but Chase had shocked her down to her high-buttoned shoes.
Last night he had sent her from their bedroom. Now he looked at her as if there were no place he’d rather be than beside her. The arm wrapped around her waist felt possessive.
“I know you gentlemen will understand. I just want to live quietly and put the war behind me. I can’t take the responsibility of trying to sway other men’s opinions.” Sincerity rang in Chase’s voice. He realized those were the first truthful words he had uttered since waking in the field hospital.
Linese watched the mayor’s flabby jowls quiver. Anger flashed in his small round eyes. “You can’t do this, Chase. We’ve been counting on you. We’ve had certain expectations. We had an agreement….”
Something in the man’s tone sent a warning through Chase’s mind. A flash of memory hit him like a cold rush of water.
He remembered the mayor’s smiling face reflected in the glow of torchlight. It was a time long ago, perhaps two years ago.
“Don’t you worry, Chase, we’ll keep your secret.”
The memory flashed brilliant like a strike of lightning, then it was gone. The fading image and the sound of the man’s voice remained lodged in Chase’s mind. He tried to remember more, but it was useless. Only that one small fragment had crystallized.
