haven’t seen you in weeks and yet, the moment I’m in a spot of trouble, there you are.”
Chase chuckled, the sound rising up from his chest and filling her with a sense of well-being, finally easing the nausea that rippled her stomach. “Fate? Luck? Good fortune? Or perhaps, misfortune?”
He stopped at her gate and opened it for her, but Kathryne didn’t want him to leave. “May I offer you a cup of coffee?”
Flickers of doubt made his brows draw together. “Are you sure, Katie? Remember who and what I am.”
She smiled and squeezed his arm. “Yes, Chase, I’m sure. It’s just coffee. A reward for saving me.” Weariness crept into his soft gray eyes, his muscles tightened as his body stiffened. She reassured him with, “We can sit on the porch, in full view of anyone who might happen by.”
“That might be worse, Katie. The last thing you want is someone to see us together.”
“Please? I don’t want to be alone just yet. Those men…”
Kathryne knew the moment he made up his mind. The tension eased from him and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “All right. One cup of coffee.” He took her arm again and led her up the walkway. “Wait here.” He opened the front door and let himself into the dark house.
Kathryne stood in the doorway and waited while Chase lit a match so he could see. He whispered a surprised oath as his shin connected with the old trunk they’d found in the attic some time ago. Kathryne cringed. She should have moved that trunk, but truthfully, she didn’t quite know where to put it. No matter where she moved it, the chest seemed to be in the way. “There are sconces on the wall to your right on either side of the fireplace and a kerosene lamp on the small desk to your left.”
Once a warm glow dispelled the darkness, Kathryne entered the house but stayed in the parlor as Chase strode to the kitchen, his boot heels loud on the hardwood floor.
“You can come in now. It’s safe.”
Kathryne dropped her reticule on the desk and made her way to the kitchen. “Please.” She gestured to one of the chairs as she pushed kindling into the stove and filled the coffeepot with water from the spout at the sink. She added ground coffee, carefully measuring out the amount then set the pot on the stove.
She felt his gaze on her as she bustled around the kitchen, the warmth of his stare making her nervous and clumsier than she should have been. He didn’t speak for the longest time, seemed content to just watch her as she slipped into a chair at the table opposite him.
“Tell me again why you were out so late,” he said, filling the comfortable silence. “How did you run into Canady and his boys?”
Kathryne shrugged. “I had dinner with Laurel and Walter. We had the fish he caught. He was so proud. Thank you for taking the time to instruct him.” She traced the pattern in the grains of wood on the table with her finger. “I didn’t intend to stay so late, but you know how it is. One conversation leads to another and another and before I knew it, the whole evening had come and gone.”
She stood, but continued speaking over her shoulder as she gathered cups and saucers from the shelves and brought them to the table. “I enjoy her company and I adore Walter. Besides Emy and Terrence, she’s the only friend I have here. I think she’s been very lonely since her husband died.”
“How did he pass?”
“He was murdered. Shot in the back.”
“When?” The question came out almost strangled, as if he had a hard time asking.
“Eight months ago, about a month after Sheriff Anders was killed the same way. Laurel said her husband had been asking questions about the sheriff’s murder and the next thing she knew, she was burying him.”
Kathryne glanced over her shoulder and saw him sit up straighter. No longer relaxed, concern etched his handsome face. “Did they ever catch the man responsible?”
She shook her head. “Sheriff Townsend didn’t seem to care and
Chase chuckled, the sound rising up from his chest and filling her with a sense of well-being, finally easing the nausea that rippled her stomach. “Fate? Luck? Good fortune? Or perhaps, misfortune?”
He stopped at her gate and opened it for her, but Kathryne didn’t want him to leave. “May I offer you a cup of coffee?”
Flickers of doubt made his brows draw together. “Are you sure, Katie? Remember who and what I am.”
She smiled and squeezed his arm. “Yes, Chase, I’m sure. It’s just coffee. A reward for saving me.” Weariness crept into his soft gray eyes, his muscles tightened as his body stiffened. She reassured him with, “We can sit on the porch, in full view of anyone who might happen by.”
“That might be worse, Katie. The last thing you want is someone to see us together.”
“Please? I don’t want to be alone just yet. Those men…”
Kathryne knew the moment he made up his mind. The tension eased from him and a smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “All right. One cup of coffee.” He took her arm again and led her up the walkway. “Wait here.” He opened the front door and let himself into the dark house.
Kathryne stood in the doorway and waited while Chase lit a match so he could see. He whispered a surprised oath as his shin connected with the old trunk they’d found in the attic some time ago. Kathryne cringed. She should have moved that trunk, but truthfully, she didn’t quite know where to put it. No matter where she moved it, the chest seemed to be in the way. “There are sconces on the wall to your right on either side of the fireplace and a kerosene lamp on the small desk to your left.”
Once a warm glow dispelled the darkness, Kathryne entered the house but stayed in the parlor as Chase strode to the kitchen, his boot heels loud on the hardwood floor.
“You can come in now. It’s safe.”
Kathryne dropped her reticule on the desk and made her way to the kitchen. “Please.” She gestured to one of the chairs as she pushed kindling into the stove and filled the coffeepot with water from the spout at the sink. She added ground coffee, carefully measuring out the amount then set the pot on the stove.
She felt his gaze on her as she bustled around the kitchen, the warmth of his stare making her nervous and clumsier than she should have been. He didn’t speak for the longest time, seemed content to just watch her as she slipped into a chair at the table opposite him.
“Tell me again why you were out so late,” he said, filling the comfortable silence. “How did you run into Canady and his boys?”
Kathryne shrugged. “I had dinner with Laurel and Walter. We had the fish he caught. He was so proud. Thank you for taking the time to instruct him.” She traced the pattern in the grains of wood on the table with her finger. “I didn’t intend to stay so late, but you know how it is. One conversation leads to another and another and before I knew it, the whole evening had come and gone.”
She stood, but continued speaking over her shoulder as she gathered cups and saucers from the shelves and brought them to the table. “I enjoy her company and I adore Walter. Besides Emy and Terrence, she’s the only friend I have here. I think she’s been very lonely since her husband died.”
“How did he pass?”
“He was murdered. Shot in the back.”
“When?” The question came out almost strangled, as if he had a hard time asking.
“Eight months ago, about a month after Sheriff Anders was killed the same way. Laurel said her husband had been asking questions about the sheriff’s murder and the next thing she knew, she was burying him.”
Kathryne glanced over her shoulder and saw him sit up straighter. No longer relaxed, concern etched his handsome face. “Did they ever catch the man responsible?”
She shook her head. “Sheriff Townsend didn’t seem to care and
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