Jane's Long March Home (13 page)

Zach yawned. “I’m not tired.”

Chase shared a grin with Jane. “Time to go to bed, anyway.”

His eyelids at half mast, Zach didn’t argue further, but followed Chase up the stairs, flopping onto his bed without changing into pajamas.

The small room had two twin beds. Smiling at the absolute rightness of putting the kids to bed, he settled Abby on the other twin, removed her shoes, and tucked them both in.

Stopping at the door, he looked back at the slumbering kids. Who would have believed when Jane first came to him, that one day in the near future, he would be Jonesing for the four of them to be one big happy family.

Down there in the living room with Jane reading to them, passion ringing in her sweet voice, he’d wanted the woman more than ever. If he didn’t find a way to convince her to stay, his life was going to be more empty than when he’d walked away after failing his brother.

Except for the kids. He’d still have Zach and Abby, and he was more determined than ever to give them the loving home they deserved.

When he went downstairs, he found Jane in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of their popcorn. “They’re sound asleep.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes moody, kissable lips pressed mutinously together. Tension snapped around her slender frame.

He loved the look of her, the feel of what was suddenly crackling between them, and decided it was about time to prod her just a little. See if he could edge her closer to finding a good reason to stay.

“That was a fine performance you gave tonight.”

She gracefully lifted one shoulder and let it fall. Turning back to the sink, she sank her hands in the soapy dishwater to pull the plug. “It’s a very clever story.”

He stepped up behind her, close enough she couldn’t spin around. Plucking a dishtowel off the counter, he wrapped his arms around her, captured one of her hands, thoroughly wiping it dry.

He spoke next to her ear, his breath brushing the ends of her short, spiky hair. “My favorite part was when the glass enclosure vanished and Dudley fell into the snake pen.”

Jane went perfectly still. “He deserved it.”

When she went to scoot away, he grabbed her other hand, drying it with equal attention. “My second favorite part was your British accent.”

She turned her head, smiling lips coming within centimeters of his. Her breath was sweet, like the peppermint she liked in her coffee. Stormy eyes locked on his mouth. Her voice was a husky whisper. “I was stationed in England for awhile.”

He tossed the towel back on the counter, then turned her into his arms. The sound of the house settling for the night surrounded them. The smell of melted butter lingered.

A need for more than basic, relieve-the-itch sex slapped at his nerves. The hell with it. Tugging her against his chest, he fused their lips with a punishing hunger that she quickly took over.

Efficient, long fingered hands grabbed his shirt front, ripping it open, popping buttons across the floor and counter. Those hands found and tested the strength of his chest, eagerly making their way south. When they got to his navel, he sucked in a hard breath, pounding desire making him rock hard.

He grabbed her exploiting hands. “Wait a minute.”

“I believe you started this, Doc,” she said, breathless. 

“And, I want to be with you at the finish line, Marine.”

Her lips quirked, her watchful eyes focused, very cool. “Sure you have the stamina?”

That did it. Chase lifted her onto the breakfast bar. His hands burrowed under her shirt, pushing the cotton up until he could flick open the front latch of her bra. He palmed each heavy globe in turn; ran his thumbs over pebbled peaks.

When he replaced his hands with mouth and tongue, great shuddering breaths racked her. She arched into him, her fingers furrowing through his hair, dragging him closer still. Her skin was soft as silk, her scent hot, destroying whatever strategy he’d started out with.

Who was giving whom a reason to stay? Chase could no longer think straight. She had him panting. Tugging the shirt over her head and tossing it to the side, he brought his hands to her face, holding her there, while practically drowning in the aroused depths of her eyes.

He pulled her to him, nipped her bottom lip, took advantage when they parted. Tongues danced together. His breath caught in his chest. Greedy hands skimmed over her shoulders, down her arched back to take handfuls of her luscious bottom. He scooted her until her heat was right up against his.

“I want you in my bed.”

She huff out a breath, her beautiful blues clouded over with unmistakable arousal, her lips quivering with it. “I won’t lie to you, or make promises I don’t know how to keep. I can’t stay.”

“I know.” Then he lied to her. “It doesn’t matter.”

She looked at him for a long minute. He saw the moment she surrendered. “I need you. Deep inside me. I want you. There. Now.”

That at least was something they agreed on, Chase thought hazily as he lifted the woman into his arms. Carrying her up the stairs and into his bedroom, he kicked the door closed behind them.

CHAPTER

XIV

W
hen he woke up, Jane was gone. The first sign of sunrise filtered through his bedroom window, which faced the back of the house. It was open, and he could hear the thud of gloved fists pounding furiously on the punching bag.

They’d slept little during the night, spending most of the dark, intimate hours exploring, discovering. The headstrong woman would make a rock break sweat. He wasn’t near that tough, but he’d given as much as he’d taken.

Listening to her attack the poor punching bag, he grinned. If the Marine was a little unnerved this morning, she could join his club.

He dressed, checked on the children, then went down to make coffee. Taking the first cup with him, he watched through the screen as Jane, giving the punching bag a break, did a warmup that rivaled the toughest military physical training.

He should feel bad about lying to her last night. He had no excuse except he wasn’t ready to let her go. If he’d told her how deep his feelings ran, it would have scared the soup out of her.

The ache in his chest scared him, too. He'd just had a few more days to get used to the idea of loving the woman, even though she was planning to pack her sea bag, and then head out of his life for good.

No limp in sight, she took off at a slow jog. At a loss for any ideas on how to convince her to stay, Chase took the easy way out - for the moment, anyway - and retreated to his office.

A few hours later, when the phone interrupted his paperwork, he was grateful. With his mind running in circles, he hadn't gotten much done after she'd returned and gone straight to the shower. All he could think about was joining her.

Tossing his pen down, he grabbed the insistent device. “Hello?”

“Hi Chase. It’s Beth.”

“Hi yourself. You’re at it early.” He leaned back in his chair.

“I’m calling about your kids. I have news.”

“Why doesn’t that sound good?”

“Their mother filed a missing children’s report on them.”

“Zack and Abby Malone?”

“Yes. I did a search in my database and ran across their pictures.”

”Are you sure? They told me their mother died in a motor vehicle accident.”

“I’m positive. I can fax over what I’ve found.”

“I’d appreciate it.”

Chase snapped the phone back onto its receiver. Waiting impatiently for the information to come, and unable to sit still, he paced to the window to stare at the mountains glowing in the early morning sun.

He was definitely distracted form his fever over Jane now. Anger fought with deep disappointment and won. He couldn’t blame the kids for lying, but he intended to find out why.

The fax machine activated. Ten minutes later, his temper marginally controlled, the faxed papers gripped tightly in one hand, he found them in the kitchen.

They were all there. Jane freshly showered, hair brushed off her forehead and drying in appealing wisps, poured orange juice. She placed the glasses on the table in front of the kids. Gus was at the stove cooking French toast. Zach and Abby slouched at the table, obviously just out of bed.

His heart hurting, Chase stared at the group that had no chance of becoming a family now. Mentally, he kicked himself. He shouldn’t have fallen so deeply in love with the idea. Jane was leaving, and no matter what their home life was like or why they’d run away, no parent who posted missing children reports would sign papers that gave custody of those kids to a virtual stranger.

 “I just got a call from my friend at Children’s Services.” Four pair of eyes swiveled in Chase’s direction.

“It seems your mother, Goldie Malone, has filed missing person reports on both of her children, Zach and Abby. Do you want to explain what’s going on?” Doing his level best to stay calm, he pinned Zach with a stern look.

The teenager jumped up from the table, eyes blazing, fists punched down at his sides. “Okay, so she’s not dead. She may as well be. She doesn’t want us, and you can’t make us go back to her.”

Not sure he believed the boy, Chase didn’t try to stop him when he fled the room. Instead, he turned to Abby, hoping she could shed some light on this comedy of errors. Though her eyes were round and frightened, her baby face held too much weariness, and way too much knowledge of the way life shouldn’t be.

 “She gave Zach a hundred dollars and left us at a homeless shelter. She wants to marry George. George doesn’t want kids.” As if that explained it all, and perhaps it did, she quietly followed her brother upstairs.

When he looked at Jane and saw the defeated resignation on her beautiful face, his frustration broke free. Not against himself. Or the kids who’d lied to protect themselves. Or the woman who held his heart in her gentle hands, but couldn’t believe she had a right to her own happiness. All his anger targeted the irresponsible woman who’d treated her children’s hearts and safety so cavalierly.

This time he wasn’t going to walk away. From the kids. Or from Jane.

*

Their mother wasn’t dead
.

Jane swallowed the raw emotion that rose like bile into her throat. She’d almost fallen for it. This picture Chase had started to make her believe in. A family of her own that no one could take away from her.

She sank into the chair Zach had deserted. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to have a little talk with them.” Chase shot her a hard look before heading for the stairs.

Gus placed a plate of French toast in front of her, shaking his head. “Poor kids.”

His sympathy galvanized Jane. She caught up with Chase before he reached the upper landing. 

“What will talking accomplish? Shouldn’t we just hunt the mother down and...I don’t know...make her pay somehow?”

He stopped mid-step. Giving her a chance to back down, he gripped her shoulders, pulled her close, and ambushed her with a quick kiss. “Nice idea, but the system doesn’t work that way.”

She bristled, feeling the heat of dashed hopes along with reawakened awareness on her skin. “I know, but I don’t see what talking is going to accomplish.”

A grin spread across his face. If it was an option, Jane would have fallen for him right then, maybe even used the L word.

“You’re a remarkable woman, Jane Donovan,” he told her before firmly settling her against his chest, his heart thumping beneath her hands.

The kiss was the kind of kiss every school girl dreams of; the kind that leads to happy-ever-after. The only problem was Jane didn't believe in storybook endings.

A little dazed, when he released her, she followed him into the kids’ room, where a belligerent teenager swung to face them. “We’re not going back to her.”

Chase didn't give Zach any wiggle room. “I don’t want to send you back, but I have to know the whole truth before I can make any claims.”

Jane’s stomach fluttered. The man was pretty remarkable himself.

“You said we could stay,” Abby whispered brokenly, sitting forlornly on her bed.

The man staking his claim on Jane's heart sat beside the little girl. Lifting her onto his lap, he turned his razor sharp gaze on Zach. “So what’s the deal with your Mom?”

The teenager glared down at his shoes. “She keeps chasing after these rich dudes. They say they’ll marry her, so she dumps us in a shelter somewhere and takes off with them. But they don’t, so then she comes back and takes us away again.”

Squaring his shoulders, Zach’s eyes overflowed with the hurt and pain of being rejected over and over. Jane remembered how that felt. Anger boiled  in her chest on the kids’ behalf. Mothers like that shouldn’t be allowed-

Zach kicked at the rug covering a small square of the floor. “She doesn’t want us. She only wants the money the state gives her for keeping us. That’s why I thought, if we could live with Pop-”

“Can’t we just stay here with you and Miss Jane and Gus?” Abby begged, tears slipping down her cheeks as she clung to the man gently cradling her.

The little girl’s misery sneaked into Jane’s heart, squeezing hard.

Marines do not cry!
Impotent fury threatened to spill from her lips in the form of colorful sailor words that shouldn’t be uttered in front of innocent children.

Abby switched tactics. Her sweet eyes pleading, she gave Jane a wobbly smile. “You and Mr. Chase could get married. Then it would be all right if you adopted us. If you pay her money, Goldie would never take us away again.”

As though he thought the idea a perfect answer to their problem, Zach looked first at her, then at Chase, hope springing into eyes that perfectly matched his sister’s.

Shocked at how reasonable it sounded, and how truly appealing the thought of marrying Chase Russell was, Jane didn’t dare look at the man.

“That’s not going to work.” The words flew out of her mouth in a hurry, jagged as if she’d just chewed on slivers of glass. “I mean, I’m not going to be here much longer. I have to get back to the base.”

A wife and mother? That took courage. And maternal skills. All she knew how to be was a soldier, and most recently, not a good one at that.

The hope in Zach and Abby's eyes was fading. Jane straightened. She had to make them understand.

“Chase and I can’t get married.”

“Why not?” Zach demanded, his fists perched on his hips.

“We’re not in love.” She looked at Chase. His handsome face was impassive, though his eyes broiled darkly with an emotion she was afraid to put a name to. Those shards of glass got sharper. “Right?”

“No, I suppose not.”

He supposed not?
 

For a second, Jane thought she saw disappointment skip cross his face, and was surprised by the wallop it gave her. But then it was gone, and she figured it must have been a mistake.

   Understandably desperate, Zach wouldn’t give up. “That doesn’t matter, does it? Do you have to be in love to get married? You like each other. Isn’t that enough?” 

She suddenly wanted it to be, but knew it wasn’t. She respected Chase, admired his dedication. Sex with him was a whole lot more than she’d expected. Heartfelt. Fantastic. Fourth of July fireworks.

When everything was said and done, they could end up friends. But, married?

Chase couldn’t take his eyes off Jane and the internal battle he could see she was fighting. His stomach clenched.

He loved the lady; had plotted to find a way to get her to stay. But, marriage? Now that the kids brought it up.

He knew what it took to make a marriage work. Plain stubbornness and a love that could survive anything. His parents had set a good example.

The Marine had enough stubbornness for the both of them, but from the look on her face, she didn’t feel the kind of love it would take. And, why should she? He needed time to convince her.

“I’m not looking for a quick fix here. If things are as bad as you say with your mother, I need a plan that will convince the authorities you should stay with me permanently.”

Zach looked skeptical.

“Promise you won’t do anything rash. Give me a chance to work things out.” He spoke to the boy, but looked straight at Jane.

Zach hesitated before agreeing, “Okay.”

Suddenly, four people in the small room was one too many for Chase. Moving Abby to the bed, he rose, coming face to face with Jane.

Her barricades were up, as though the night they'd spent together never happened. Of course marrying him, even to give Zach and Abby the break they needed, was the last thing she’d bargained for when she first came to the ranch.

He shouldn’t give it a moment’s consideration either, but then, why did he feel like he’d just been soundly kicked in the gut?

*

It took only moments for Jane to make her way out of the house and to the barn. The good thing about her good buddy, Mr. Harley, was that the bike didn’t make her heart ache with dreams that couldn’t possibly come true.

She clamped on a helmet. Pushing the big machine out of the barn, she climbed aboard, revved up the engine and let the resulting roar block out the heart-stirring image of Chase Russell, sitting on a child’s bed, offering comfort to a little girl who had no one else to turn to.

Flying out of the ranch yard, she turned toward town. When she passed the graveled road that ended at the hot springs, she made a sharp u-turn, gunned the engine in a roar that brought the front tire off the ground.

In that brief second before regret flitted across his handsome face, Chase had reached out to her, silently asking her to join him in his crusade to take care of Zach and Abby. A crusade she’d pushed him into taking on in the first place.

But, he was asking too much.

Parking the bike, she left the helmet on the seat and walked up to the steaming water. The scent of sulfur filled the thick air.

Squatting at the edge of the natural spa, she rested one arm on her knee. The other skimmed the swirling surface, her mind filling with images of what she’d done the last time she was there.

She snorted, cursing the blush that warmed her skin. A marriage for convenience was absolutely out of the question. Only a kid who found himself in a hopeless situation would think
that
the perfect solution.