“No.”
“Do you believe a son has to pay for the sins of his father?” When she started to answer, he interrupted her. “Be careful what you say, because if you’re going to make Chase pay for what his father did, don’t forget that your son’s father is Chase Calder.”
A tiny shockwave went through her, his words
reverberating in her mind—pay for the sins of his father. She was trembling inside, not certain why. There was a sudden confusion in her head that she couldn’t sort through. Her thoughts were all whirling too fast.
“Well—” Tucker hefted the potato sack onto his shoulder. “I gotta get to work. The boys will be hungry soon.” Then he paused. “I’ll get word to Culley that you want to see him.”
“Thanks, Tucker.” It was an almost absent reply as she turned to walk slowly toward The Homestead.
The wedding ceremony was quick and painless, held in the evening so it wouldn’t interfere with Chase’s work schedule. Ruth and Virgil Haskell acted as their witnesses. Ty was the only other one in attendance. There had been only one awkward moment, which occurred when it was time to exchange the plain gold wedding bands. Maggie had forgotten to remove the interlocking diamond solitaire wedding set that Phillip had given her. Looking back, she couldn’t be sure whether it was an oversight or subconscious design. Either way, when Chase saw them, his mouth had tightened as he deftly removed them and slipped them into his pocket, returning Phillip’s wedding band and ring to her after the ceremony. Later, his kiss had been cool and impersonal, hardly a kiss at all.
Afterward, Chase had fixed drinks in the den while the license was signed and witnessed. The minister had offered a toast to their future happiness together before leaving. The Haskells hadn’t lingered, and even Ty discreetly slipped away to leave them alone. Chase had promptly excused himself to finish some paperwork, leaving Maggie with the feeling that it had all been a farce.
What had she expected? Lying in the bed of the master suite, she stared at the moon patterns on the ceiling. Her ego was suffering. She had wanted to be the one who did the ignoring. She was disgusted with her childish reaction. What did it matter which of them set the mood of quiet civility?
She listened to his footsteps climbing the stairs to the top and the unhurried stride that carried him past her door without any hesitation. His bedroom was located in the northwest corner of the second floor. He had dryly pointed it out to her when he’d given her the master suite her first night. The door to his room opened and closed. Then there was silence.
She rolled onto her side, sliding her hands under the pillow beneath her head. The wide gold band felt strangely heavy on her finger. She wasn’t accustomed to the feel of it; she was used to the diamond crown of Phillip’s ring. She had barely closed her eyes when the loudest clanging and banging broke out all around her. The deafening racket drove Maggie out of bed. She grabbed for the matching robe to her satin gown and bolted into the outer hall, nearly running into Chase.
“What is that?” There wasn’t any letup in the clamorous din.
“I don’t know.” His shirt was unbuttoned and hanging free. He was just starting to tuck it inside the waistband of his pants when he stopped and drew in a sharp breath of recognition. “Oh, no.” It came out in an exasperated sigh.
“What?” She looked at him, puzzled and vaguely alarmed.
He slanted her a wry, downward look. “They are giving us a shivaree. I have no doubt it was Buck’s idea.” A laugh broke from her throat, short and relieved, then interrupted by the opening of the front door downstairs and the invasion of tramping boots and the clanging of metal pots.
“We want the bride and groom!” A chorus of rowdy voices shouted.
Maggie started to tie the tasseled sash of her robe. Chase raked her with a look that took special note of the way the satin material shaped itself to her breasts and hips. Very little was left to the imagination.
“You can’t go downstairs wearing that,” he snapped in a low undertone.
For a stunned second, she could only look at him. “I have half a dozen evening gowns more revealing than this!” she retorted. “Phillip never considered I was dressed indecently.”
“Well, I’m not Phillip, and this isn’t California. Our women don’t go around showing their bodies in front of other men.” His voice was a sharp reminder that he belonged to a breed of men who judged women by standards different from those of the outside world. Rebellion licked through her veins, either sparked by his rebuke or the possessive ring in his tone when he had grouped her into the category of “our women.”
“Hey! Are you coming down, or do we have to come up?” a voice challenged from the foot of the stairs.
“Give us a couple of minutes to get decent!” Chase lifted his voice to reply, then gathered Maggie by the shoulders and marched her into the master suite amidst hoots and hollers from below.
If it wasn’t for the very real possibility that Ty was a member of the party downstairs, and Maggie didn’t want to embarrass him, she would have refused to change clothes. Chase had already snapped the light on and was going through her meager wardrobe, since the rest of her clothes hadn’t arrived. Maggie was irritated further by the implication that he didn’t trust her to choose something suitable. Angrily, she shrugged out of her robe and tossed it onto the rumpled bedcovers.
She had just peeled the nightslip over her head and was reaching for her underclothes when Chase said, “Here. Wear this.”
“What?” When she turned to see what he had chosen, she was held motionless by the look in his eyes.
They traveled over her nakedness, lingering on the tawny points of her breasts, the flatness of her stomach, and the black vee of curling hair. Then they slowly traveled upward over the same route. Maggie was shaken by the sensation he was making love to her with his eyes, and she felt the heat rushing through her body, the heat of desire. She had to defend herself against this most intimate of invasions.
“Stop gawking like a cowboy, Chase.” She spoke curtly because she was quivering inside. “You’ve seen me naked before.”
The taunt broke the spell, and Maggie moved quickly to slip on her bra and panties. Chase had chosen a sleeveless daytime dress of ice-blue, made out of the shimmering terry-cloth-like material. When she reached out to take it from his hand, he held it for an instant, forcing her to meet his eyes, gleaming hard like polished stone.
“But when I saw you naked before, Maggie, I always looked,” he reminded her simply and let go of the dress to turn away.
A chanting began downstairs. “We want the bride and groom! We want the bride and groom!” Chase waited at the door with barely disguised impatience while Maggie buttoned the front of the dress and slipped her bare feet into a pair of backless heels. His gaze made a cursory inspection of her when she joined him. She simmered, feeling raw, as if the wall she had so carefully erected to keep out unwanted sensations was being eaten away, and she needed the protection against his vibrant animal attraction.