SWEET REVENGE by Katherine Allred
Chapter One
Jessie stood in the middle of the empty room, her reflection cast back to her a hundred times from the mirror-lined walls. The smell of floor wax drifted up from the gleaming wood under her feet, and she inhaled deeply. Her own dance studio. It had taken her ten years, a lot of hard work, and a big chunk of her savings, but she’d finally done it.
The sounds of bagpipes filled the room, the exotic rhythm vibrating in time with her excitement. Unable to contain the feeling another moment, she hooked her thumbs under her belt and executed the steps to a Highland Fling, her feet moving so fast they were a blur in the mirrors.
“How the heck do you do that?”
The voice was filled with disgust, and Jessie grinned at Bridget’s reflection before she turned to face her. “Practice.”
“Well, it shows.” Her chunky friend shook her head and shifted the box in her arms. “I still can’t believe it’s you. You look completely different. Like someone stole your body and replaced it with a new sports model.” Jessie moved to the sound system and turned the music down. “What you’re trying to say is that you expected me to still be fat.”
“You were never fat!”
“Come on, Bridget. I wore a size twenty pants. I went to our senior prom alone and not a single boy asked me to dance. It was one of the most humiliating experiences of my life.”
“You’re sure gonna get even at the class reunion next week. Every man in this town will take one look at you and you’ll be running for your life.”
Lifting the box from Bridget’s arms, Jessie headed for the office. “I’m not interested in any man this town has to offer. They had their chance. If they didn’t want me when I was fat, they darned well can’t have me now. The only thing I want from them is their children in my classes and their money in my pocket.”
“What about Chase Martin?”
“What about him?” Jessie hoped her face remained as neutral as her voice. Just the mention of his name had her stomach rolling like a bowling ball in an empty room.
Bridget slid behind the desk that was now hers and began stocking the drawers from the supplies she’d brought in. “You had a horrible crush on him all through high school. A re you telling me you aren’t even a little curious about him?”
“Not even a little bit,” she lied. “He was the worst of the bunch. Mr. High-and-Mighty football hero. Oh, I was good enough to talk to when he needed help with algebra, but let any of his friends show up and he’d look through me like I didn’t exist. I don’t know what I ever saw in him to start with. I don’t even like football.”
“Yeah, sure.” Bridget rolled her eyes heavenward. “Those blue eyes and coal black hair didn’t have a thing to do with it. A nd neither did that gorgeous body of his.”
“Oh, he had the looks, I’m not denying that. But I learned my lesson when his pals tacked my size thirteen underwear to the bulletin board in homeroom, then tried to convince Mr. Weems it was historical memorabilia because they belonged to Jessie James. Chase knew what they were doing, Bridg. I could see it in his eyes. A nd he just stood there watching me while everyone laughed. It wouldn’t even surprise me to discover that he was the one who stole them from my locker. I cried for a solid week. With the others, I sort of expected things like that, but for some reason, I really thought Chase was different.” She shook her head. “Just goes to show how wrong you can be. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
“Come on, Jess. A dmit it. You’re still interested. The minute I told you Chase was divorced you started talking about coming back.”
“You told me that four years ago. If he were the reason I came back, why would I have waited?” She perched on the edge of the desk and looked at her new secretary seriously. “Bridget, on the inside I’m the same person I was in high school, the same one who swore in blood that we’d be best friends until the day we died. I’ve still got the scar to prove it. See?” She held out her index finger.
“Stop avoiding the subject.”
Jessie grinned. “What subject?”
“Chase Martin. He’s the sheriff now, you know. A nd divorced.”
“Bridget,” Jessie warned. “Drop it.”
“Did I tell you he has a daughter?”
She paused in the act of returning to her own desk. “No, that’s one thing you didn’t mention. A ge?”
“Ten, I think. She was a little premature. Showed up about six months after Chase and Becky married.”
“Put them on the mailing list. I want the flyers to go out tomorrow.”
“Sure. But why the rush? We don’t open until next Monday.”
Her smile turned to one of satisfaction. “Because I’m going to use the reunion as advertisement. By the time that dance is over, I’m going to have parents fighting to get their kids enrolled.”
Bridget blew an unruly lock of red hair away from her face and stared at Jessie suspiciously. “I remember that look. It’s the same one you had right before you suggested we pour dishwashing detergent in the town fountain.”
“A h, the bubbles,” Jessie sighed with contented remembrance. “You have to admit, it was the cleanest the town square has ever been.”
“Yeah, and they’re still looking for the criminals who did it. I had nightmares for two years expecting to be arrested any second.”
“I told you they’d never suspect us.”
“We were just lucky. So what are you planning for the reunion? Going to put on a show all by yourself?”
“I won’t be by myself. A t least, not for the dance part. I have a date.”
“With who?”
Jessie absently shuffled through a box of CDs in preparation for filing them. “Dom is coming down for the weekend. He’s going to take me.”
Bridget’s green eyes widened. “Dominic Reyes? The dancer slash actor? Oh, my God! I thought you were joking about knowing him!” Jessie glanced at her with amusement. “Why I would joke about that? Dom is a good friend. I’ve choreographed several of his shows for him. We even dated for a while.”
“Why the heck are you back here, then? Not that I’m ungrateful for the job, but you had everything a person could want in New York. You had a successful career, a wonderful apartment, and Dominic Reyes.”
“Dom and I realized a long time ago that we work better as friends, Bridg.” She rested one hand on the CDs and looked out the window.
The sheriff’s office was directly across the street, a single light from its window cutting through the darkness. Her gaze paused on the square of illumination then drifted, taking in all of Main Street.
“I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I missed Rocky Flats. I guess once a Texan, always a Texan. When Gram died and left me the house, I knew it was time to come home. The studio being for sale was just icing on the cake. I think I’d made my mind up even before you wrote to me about it.”
“Well, I think you’re crazy, but I’m glad you’re back. I’ve missed you. The place hasn’t been the same since you left. A re you unpacked yet?”
“Pretty much. There are a few boxes left. But Gram’s things are still there. I have to decide what to keep and what to donate to charity.”
“I can help you with that if you’d like. I know you’re still not feeling a hundred percent.” Jessie shook her head. She’d had a recurring sinus infection for the last year. Not enough to stop her, but enough to make her feel tired when it was acting up. “I’m already taking up too much of your time with the studio. A nd actually, I’m starting to feel a lot better. Maybe they got it taken care of this time.”
A movement across the street caught her attention and she watched as the light went out in the sheriff’s office and the front door opened.
In spite of her good intentions, her heartbeat jumped a notch as a tall male form paused on the sidewalk, his head turned toward the studio.
She didn’t need a spotlight shining on him to know it was Chase Martin in the flesh. Every nerve in her body was screaming the news loud and clear. She was in the process of reminding herself that Chase Martin was a silly girlish fantasy she’d long ago outgrown when the man stepped off the curb and started across the street.
“Damn.”
“What?” Bridget looked at her in puzzlement.
Jessie turned her back to the window. “Did you lock the door when you came in?”
“In Rocky Flats? What for? The soap in the fountain was the biggest crime this place has ever seen. People are still talking about it.”
“I was afraid of that. Better hide the dishwashing detergent. Wyatt Earp is on his way in.”
“Wyatt Earp?” Her gaze cut to the office door and a sheepish grin crossed her face. “Oh, hi Chase.”
“Bridget.” He nodded politely, his blue eyes sweeping the room before coming to rest on Jessie.
She was going to have to get a bell for that front door, Jessie decided. The man moved way too quietly. A nd if possible, he was even better looking now than he’d been in high school. It took an effort to remain calm.
“Is there something we can help you with, Sheriff?”
“I saw the lights on over here and thought I’d better check it out. This building has been empty for years.” His voice was the same deep, slow drawl she remembered, but he had filled out physically. No longer was he the boy her memory had led her to expect. His shoulders strained against the khaki of his shirt and tapered down to a narrow waist. Jessie swallowed hard, but kept her gaze direct and steady.
“A s I’m sure you can see, it’s not empty anymore. But thank you for your concern.”
“You bought it?”
“That’s right.” She went back to filing CDs. “A nd we’ve got a lot to do before opening day, so if you’ll excuse us?”
“Sorry I bothered you.” He turned to go and then looked at her over his shoulder, his gaze skimming her body with interest. “By the way, my name isn’t Wyatt Earp.”
While Bridget goggled, Jessie smiled sweetly. “How nice for you. I suppose it saves a lot of confusion.” His blue eyes met hers. “A pparently not.” He touched the brim of his hat with one hand. “Bridget. Ma’am.” Before she could blink, he was gone.
“Well, well,” Bridget commented with a grin. “He didn’t recognize you, but you certainly got his attention. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”
“I told you, Bridg, I don’t want his attention. Men like Chase Martin are only interested in pretty packages. Let a woman show a little intelligence or look a little different, and they run like greyhounds. They want a trophy, not a real woman.” Bridget propped her chin on one hand and studied Jessie. “I think you’re letting high school color your opinions. It’s been ten years, Jess.
You’ve changed, don’t you think it’s possible that Chase may have changed, too?”
“I suppose it’s possible. It’s just not probable.”
“A nd did Dom date you because you’re ugly?” Bridget blinked her eyes innocently.
“Not gonna work, Bridg.” Jessie smiled at her. “Dom was one of the first people I met in New York. Before I lost the weight,” she added in case Bridget missed the point. “He’s one of the few men I’ve met who doesn’t care about things like that. Maybe because he knows what it’s like to be wanted for your looks. Lord knows, he has to fight women off with a stick.” Bridget sighed. “I don’t think that’s a problem I’ll ever have. Men still look through me instead of at me.”
“Then they don’t deserve you,” Jessie told her gently. “You’re smart and funny and loving. I’ll bet sooner or later, someone will see that, and when they do they’ll hang on to you for dear life.”
“Pardon me if I don’t hold my breath.”
“Come on. Let’s get this stuff put up and get out of here for the night. I’ll even fix your supper.”
“You aren’t going to make me eat bean sprouts, are you?” Bridget was looking suspicious again.
“Nope. How does broiled chicken fajitas sound?”
“Like diet food.”
Jessie laughed. “You’ll never know the difference, I promise.”
* * * * *
Chase Martin’s brow furrowed as he steered the patrol car down Main Street. He’d felt like a tongue-tied idiot standing in the office of the old studio, and he wasn’t real happy about his reaction. It had been a long time since any woman had rattled him like that. But one look at her and his brain had emptied out like water through Swiss cheese.
She was beautiful. The kind of beautiful that stole your breath and made your heart stop beating. Her hair was the color of rich coffee, long and thick, shimmering with highlights. The eyes that had met his were an odd blue-green color with flecks of gold mixed in, and rimmed with lush black lashes.
He would swear he’d never met her before, yet there was something about those eyes that seemed vaguely familiar. Her accent had been northern, though, possibly New York, and he’d rarely been out of this part of the country.
Puzzled, he went over the whole scene in his mind again and came up empty. He hadn’t been there long enough to offend her, yet he’d sensed a definite air of reservation in her posture. Hell, he hadn’t even gotten the chance to introduce himself or find out her name before she’d made it clear he was intruding.
A rueful smile crossed his face as he realized how her attitude had irritated him. A s sheriff he was used to commanding respect. Having someone dislike him on sight was a new experience for him. Maybe she just didn’t care for the law, period. His smile turned to a grin. Maybe she was a criminal. He would sure take great pleasure in frisking her.
The thought shocked him, wiped the grin right off his face. He hadn’t been tempted by a woman since Becky had left, and that was fine with him. He’d been stupid enough to let a woman trap him once. It wasn’t going to happen again. Besides, he had A my to think about. She took up every spare minute he had.
His brow furrowed again at the thought of his daughter. The truth was, he didn’t know how to help her. He’d talked until he was blue in the face, but she still believed Becky had left because of her. Lately, he’d considered taking her for therapy, even though it left a bad taste in his mouth. She didn’t have any friends now. What would happen if the other kids found out she was seeing a shrink?
Pulling the patrol car to a stop in his drive, he climbed out and headed across the front lawn to his aunt’s house, next door. He took the front steps two at a time, then followed the sounds to the kitchen at the back of the house.
His aunt was bustling around the stove, filling a plate from different pots and pans. She glanced up and smiled when he stepped into the room.
“I thought I heard your car. Sit down. I saved you some supper.”
“Thanks, A unt Ruth.” He straddled a chair as she put a plate in front of him. “Where’s A my?”
“She was falling asleep on the couch so I let her go to bed in the spare room. You may as well leave her here tonight.”
“I appreciate you watching her.”
“It’s no trouble at all. She’s such a quiet little thing. A ll she ever does is read.” She put a glass of tea next to his plate. “Did you get your paperwork done?”
“Yeah, it’s all finished.” He dug into the food like a starving man. No one cooked roast like A unt Ruth.
Pouring another glass of tea, she settled into the chair at the end of the table. “I heard Mr. Howard’s emus got out today.” Chase barely slowed his eating. “They did. A nd headed right for the interstate. Blocked traffic for an hour before Harley and I finally chased them back into the pen.”
“I thought chickens were stupid, but those birds have them beat. Don’t know why anyone would put up with them.”
“Just another one of Mr. Howard’s get-rich-quick schemes.” He paused, fork midway to his mouth. “You haven’t heard anything about the old dance studio being sold, have you?”
She took a sip of tea. “Mrs. James’ granddaughter bought it. Ran into her at the grocery store. Lovely girl. She’s been moving into her grandmother’s house the last two days.”
His gaze went to the window, but the house directly behind his own was dark. “I don’t think I knew Mrs. James had a granddaughter.”
“Of course you did. She graduated with your class. I believe her first name is Jessie.” Suddenly he smiled. “Jessie. Jessie James.” He had to stifle the laughter that threatened to erupt from deep in his chest, and he leaned against the back of the chair weakly. It was too ironic. The first woman the sheriff had been attracted to in four years was named after an outlaw. A nd she was going to be living in the house right behind his own.
A surprising surge of excitement coiled in his stomach. With her that close, he’d get to see her, even talk to her. Maybe get to know her better.
He shook his head in stunned amazement. How could he even be thinking these thoughts about a woman he’d seen for all of five minutes? It just didn’t make any sense.
Strange that he didn’t remember her from school, though. In a town the size of Rocky Flats, classes tended to be small. His had been no different. There were only about fifty kids who had graduated with him, and he was fairly sure he would have noticed someone who looked like her, even with Becky in the picture. Her name did stir echoes of memory, but he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just associating it with the outlaw.
Finishing off the last of his meal, he carried the dishes to the sink. “Thanks for supper, A unt Ruth. I’m going to run upstairs and check on A my before I head home.”
“I made an apple pie for dessert. Don’t you want a piece?”
Chase patted his stomach. “Too full.”
“Well, I’ll wrap it up while you look in on A my and you can take it with you.”
“Okay.” It was useless to argue with A unt Ruth when she’d made up her mind.
Moving quietly, he went up the stairs and entered the bedroom, stopping beside the bed to gaze down on his sleeping daughter. She was wrapped tightly in the blankets, only her head showing. He leaned over and brushed a lock of blonde hair away from her face before dropping a kiss on her forehead.
“Night, Pum’kin,” he whispered. “Sleep tight.”
She murmured something and shifted slightly, the movement pushing the blankets aside. There was nothing of Chase in her features.
Even at ten she looked like a shorter, plumper version of her mother.
Readjusting the covers around her, he gave her another peck then slipped from the room, stopping downstairs to collect his pie before heading home.
Like every other house in the area, his was a two-story, cracker box. They’d bought it shortly after A my was born. Becky had hated it from the beginning, but it was the best he could afford at the time. It still suited his needs and it was the only home A my had ever known.
In the familiar darkness, he made his way to the kitchen and deposited the pie in the refrigerator, noting as he did that there were now lights showing in the house behind his. In the kitchen that was a replica of his own, a shadowy form crossed in front of the closed blinds.
Why didn’t he remember her? Overcome with curiosity, he went into the living room and flipped the light switch. The walls on either side of the fireplace held built-in bookshelves, crammed to overflowing with both his and A my’s reading material. It took a few minutes, but he finally located his senior yearbook.
Carrying it to the recliner, he stretched out and began thumbing through the pages, looking for the individual pictures of the graduating seniors. When he found them, he turned immediately to the Js and there she was.
Chase smiled as he studied the picture. No wonder he hadn’t recognized her. Sometime in the last ten years she’d shed sixty pounds or more. But the eyes should have given her away. Even in those days, he’d thought she had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen.
He seemed to remember she’d helped him with A lgebra a time or two, but the only class he’d had with her during that last year was homeroom. She’d sat directly across from him, right were he couldn’t avoid seeing her. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d been so fascinated by her eyes that he’d forgotten to listen to Mr. Weems.
With a sigh he closed the book and returned it to the shelf. A s much as his body might wish otherwise, he couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself get involved with a woman. He had his hands full with A my, and his daughter had to come first. She’d suffered enough trauma when Becky abandoned them. She shouldn’t have to feel like she was competing for his attention now.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he headed upstairs for the bathroom. Somehow, he was going to have to squash his libido where the luscious Ms.
James was concerned. A nd judging from his purely physical reaction earlier tonight, it wasn’t going to be an easy task. Even as he finished stripping and stepped into the shower, a pair of blue-green eyes filled his mind. With a deeper sigh, he set the temperature and let the heated water roll over him. Deep down he suspected he was only fooling himself. He was already trying to think up excuses to talk to her again.