Authors: Janet Dailey
Her hands slipped to his chest and then up around his neck as she moved ever nearer to his face, until the initiative was taken from her and Jase was pulling her to him, his head bending to meet hers. Their lips met, hesitantly at first, Coley's innocent and yet following her instinct and his restrained and exploring. A shiver quaked through her body, releasing a long-held torrent of emotion that soon engulfed her as Jase crushed her trembling frame against his. His kiss was no longer seeking, but taking and consuming. His mouth left hers for a moment, remaining suspended above hers until with a groan, he recaptured it, demandingly and hungrily aroused by her response. Then he was pushing her away from him, his arms trembling but his grip like steel.
Coley looked up at him, her rapture mirrored in her eyes. She loved him. She must have been in love with him all along. That was why she had instinctively trusted him. Why the slightest word could depress or delight her. She loved him.
'Stop it!’ His brows constricted momentarily as he looked down at her.
Coley remained standing where he had placed her, just out of his arms, the fire he had started still glowing in her eyes. Jase turned away from her pleading expression, removed a cigar from his coat pocket and placed it between his lips, where he impatiently snapped a match to it.
'Dammit, Coley!’ Jase swore angrily, staring out into the night's darkness.
'Jase, I...’ she whispered.
'Don't say anything,’ he interrupted, his voice sharp and hitter. ‘Just go on back to the party.'
'I don't want to.'
'You forget, you're not my type.'
Coley inhaled sharply at his wounding words. Her face twisted briefly with pain before she retorted sharply, ‘That's right, you like them more amply endowed—with a thick skin. Like Tanya's.'
'Yes, like Tanya's,’ he asserted, gazing at her speculatively before the mask slipped into place. ‘You know how to dance now and do a few other things,’ he added cynically. ‘Go on. You don't need to comfort the family's black sheep any more.'
'No, I don't suppose there's any reason to hang around here, is there?’ Coley agreed bitterly, with the barest hint of pleading hope in the last two words.
'Not unless you're the kind that gets a thrill our of being with someone whose name is just a little bit blackened, who's been accused of doing some evil deed. Perhaps you like to dance with danger. Is that it?’ Jase asked scathingly. ‘Tell me, that conversation you overheard tonight about me. You didn't say what they said about my brother, I don't suppose they mentioned his death at all, did they?’ Coley blanched at his words, but didn't answer. Suddenly her face was caught by his hand and twisted fiercely up towards him. ‘Did they?'
'Yes, they did,’ she answered. The words were barely audible because of his tight grip. Tears began damming up her vision. ‘It doesn't matter.'
'Ha!’ Jase snorted a cynical laugh as he released his hold. ‘It doesn't matter! You've got to be the most optimistic Pollyanna I've ever met. What do you think would happen if the two of us walked back to that party together?’ When Coley managed a negative sideways movement of her head, he inhaled briefly on his cheroot before continuing bitterly, ‘Well, let me tell you. The first thing that you would notice would be the silence. The second thing would be the eyes, all staring at us, shocked and condemning. Your brother would probably take me aside and demand to know my intentions and Aunt Willy would draw you aside to tut-tut to you about getting mixed up with me. If we were lucky, Ben wouldn't see us. Otherwise he'd probably raise out of his wheelchair to beat you personally for being so immoral, and he'd probably file a restraining order forbidding me to set foot on Savage land.'
The dam had burst and the tears were streaming down Coley's face now at the unbearable pain inside caused by the mocking contempt in his voice. Then anger seared through her as she trembled with rage.
'Savage land! Savage land!’ Although her voice was low it vibrated loudly with her anger. ‘That's the only part you'd care about. Savage land!’ Contempt now laced her voice as she fairly spat out the words. ‘I've never known anyone who could care about a bunch of dirt as much as you and your grandfather. You'd kill for this land!'
Jase towered over her, the blue icicles in his eyes freezing her with their intensity. His head was turned at just the right angle for the scar to be the only part of his face illuminated by the light. Coley cringed as the full horror of her words and their unspeakable cruelty dawned on her.
'I didn't mean it, Jase, I swear I di...’ she began, but he interrupted.
'You were absolutely right. Good night, Colleen.’ Finality was so clear in his words that Coley knew he might as well have said ‘Good-bye.'
She stood silent, as immobile as the oak tree beside her, while Jase walked off into the darkness. A dry, hacking grief tore at her, knowing that nothing she could do or say would bring him back to her. There were no words she could call out to him that could erase the wretched words she had uttered.
Finally she picked up the rose that had fallen from his hand. The delicate petals were as torn and bruised as her own heart. He had once compared her with a yellow rose. He had even laughed about her thorns, but what did he think of them now? she wondered as a brief but hysterical laugh escaped her lips before she buried her head in her arms and leaned against the tree to cry. What had she done to him now?
Chapter Eight
A MONTH, a whole month since the party, Coley thought, staring at herself in the mirror. But it was as fresh in her mind as if it were last night. Somehow she had pulled herself together that night and returned to the party. There had been nowhere else to go and her absence would have been too noticeable.
Punishment for her hasty words had begun that night. The gay festivities and laughing voices had taken on a nightmarish quality as she endured it all in a stupor. None of it had seemed to touch her. She couldn't even summon an objection to Tony's persistent attention. Perhaps because she couldn't take her eyes off Jase and the dark-haired Tanya who clung to his arm, never taking her eyes off him either.
And now, a month later, Coley's torpor remained. But her reflection showed that this apathy had taken its toll in the dullness of her eyes, the drawnness around her mouth and the gradual loss of weight. Her appearance hadn't gone unnoticed. Aunt Willy clucked over her, trying to find out what was troubling her. Tony had become affronted by her continued lack of response to his attentions. Ben had been the most understanding, filling her days with busy but undemanding tasks. The hours spent with him had been the most rewarding for Coley. She felt in some unmeasurable way she was giving something back to him for the comfort he gave her.
Only Jase ignored the change in her. His subtle revenge was unique. He would ride off in the morning, as if on a day's work, and not return for two or three days. But his reappearance was always timed to coincide with Coley's presence with his grandfather, so that she could witness their maliciously cruel word-slinging matches. Only when Jase was absent was there ever a peaceful meal. Their bitter quarrelling and vicious jibes seemed to be the only conversation at the table.
It was as if there was no gentleness left in Jase. His face had turned to stone, the expression never changing, always cynical and mocking. His eyes were like an eagle's, harsh and piercing. Oh, yes, Coley thought, the name Savage suited him very well.
The burden of her guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders as she replaced the hairbrush on her dressing-table. At least last night she had shown Jase that he had won. It had been during the evening meal amidst one of their bitter arguments that Coley had finally lost control of her emotions. The heated dispute over some petty thing had driven her to the point where she couldn't take any more. She had dropped her silverware with a clatter and tipped over her chair in her frantic desire to get away. She remembered that she had stopped at the doorway, halted by Aunt Willy's imperious call, to look back at Jase. He had raised a quieting hand to Willy.
'But she didn't even ask to be excused,’ Aunt Willy had protested.
Jase had given her a reproachful, silencing glance before turning back to Coley. He had stood there, looking arrogantly across the room with narrowed eyes. Then, with head bowed, Coley had raced out the door and up to her room, an ignominious exit but a desperate one.
Funny, when she looked in the mirror now she expected to see some starched matronly person instead of this youthful shell of a young woman looking back at her with haunted eyes. Cupid's arrow which had struck so swiftly had left an open wound in her heart. And despite everything, she still loved Jase. There was the cruelty of the whole situation, that those few brief words of anger to the man she now loved could destroy the fire that had flamed shortly between them. Her great hopes of bringing peace to the family had resulted in a full-fledged war. How many more battles were left before the end came? And how could there ever be a victory for either side?
Coley glanced at the alarm clock on her dressing-table. It was time for Uncle Ben's morning tea. Lately it had become a ritual for Coley to bring him his tea, a welcome ritual for her because it filled her morning. She had grown to like the dark panelled study, drawing comfort from its stern interior. No longer did she desire to throw wide the curtains and let the sunshine in. She revelled in the gloom just as she once revelled in the light.
There was no need to hurry as she made her way slowly out the room and down the steps. Maggie would have the tray prepared. Nothing was demanded of Coley except to carry it into her uncle's den, occasionally comment to about the weather, and, after an hour or so, return the tray to the kitchen. It was just as well, she thought to herself. Her wounds were too fresh and painful for her mind to dwell on anything but Jase.
She picked up the tray sitting on the kitchen counter, nodded absently to the stern housekeeper and walked quietly towards the den. Entering the room without knocking, she placed the tray on the desk. She poured a cup for herself and Ben before settling herself in the huge leather armchair that cradled her deeper into the gloom.
'If these cattle prices hold, we'll have a real nice profit this year,’ Ben commented, without taking his gaze from the books he was studying. When Coley failed to reply, his hawk-like eyes glanced at her above the steaming cup he brought to his lips. ‘Well, aren't you going to say anything?'
'What?’ Coley asked in a dazed voice before remembering just what he had said. ‘Oh, yes, that will be great.'
'Your enthusiasm is overwhelming,’ the man replied with a rueful shake of his iron-grey head. He peered at her intently beneath his unruly eyebrows. ‘Not too long ago you would have made some comment giving credit to Jase. Have you finally learned some truth about that unscrupulous foreman of mine?'
'Uncle Ben, please!’ Coley begged quietly, shifting uncomfortably in her chair at his deliberate lack of reference to Jase as his grandson. ‘Your tea's going to get cold if you don't drink it.'
'Don't change the subject with me, young lady,’ Ben growled. ‘When I ask a question I expect an answer.'
'There's enough quarrelling around this house these days without you and me starting in.’ Coley raised the cup to her lips to hide the trembling of her chin.
'What's the matter, child? Were you disillusioned into believing the sheep's clothing was real and there wasn't a wolf inside?’ the old man snorted. ‘It's about time those ridiculous images of a knight in shining armour stopped drifting through your head and you saw Jason for what he is, an unspeakably cruel man who firmly believes the end justifies the means. But then, of course, he hasn't got the Slash S yet, has he?'
'That's rather like the pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?’ Coley said bitterly, sitting her cup rather abruptly on the flat surface of the magazine table. ‘Jase wasn't responsible for anyone's death. So what kind of a grandfather does that make you, when you can sit there and tell me that you believe your own flesh and blood would allow his brother to die?’
'So the thick skin isn't so very thick after all,’ Ben said, leaning back in his wheelchair to allow Coley to see the satisfied smile on his face and the devilish gleam in his eyes. ‘I'd almost decided you were a zombie, incapable of any emotion. But last night when you ran out of the dining room like the chicken being chased by a hatchet, I decided that maybe there was some life in the old girl yet.'
'This is the most sadistic family I've ever met!’ Coley retorted. ‘I've never known anyone who could get so much pleasure out of engaging in vicious quarrels.'
'Anger tends to loosen the tongue and let the truth flow out,’ Ben snapped, wheeling his chair out from behind the desk.
'No,’ Coley replied, shaking her head slowly. ‘Anger is like a whip lashing out at old wounds to prevent them from healing.'
'Forgive and forget, that's your motto, huh?'
'If you can't forgive, you can't forget and vice versa,’ Coley replied with far more calmness than she felt.
'And that's what you expect of me, isn't it?’ Ben demanded suddenly, bending forward in his chair to scowl at Coley. ‘You expect me to forget that Jase stood by and let his own brother die because he knew that Rick would inherit this ranch, and now I'm to welcome him back into the fold with open arms.'