Free Wade by Jennifer Blake

would want to linger.”
    It was possible that he’d overdone the hayseed cooperation, for Ahmad gave him a hard stare. “There will be no more warnings.”
    â€œNone required.” Wade moved to the door with a rangy stride and reached to pull it open. “But I should tell you that I’ll be in and out a lot. You won’t be surprised if I’m a tad hard to keep tabs on for the rest of my stay?”
    Ahmad’s eyes narrowed. He stepped through the doorway with his interpreter trailing after him, then turned back again in the hall. “I think you will find that the Taliban can lay hands on you whenever it pleases.”
    â€œThey’re sure welcome to try,” Wade returned with his blandest smile.
    As he swung the door shut on his visitors, however, his humor vanished. He stood staring at nothing until he could no longer hear their receding footsteps.

4
    C hloe barely slept at all. Fury that Ahmad would keep her father’s death from her churned in her mind. That he’d forced her to remain dependent while he planned to trap her in a marriage of his choosing then steal her inheritance made her long to thwart him. Most of all, she could not stop replaying the moments in the garden with Wade Benedict. He had destroyed her hard-won acceptance of her life, substituting visions of freedom and paradise that must remain forever out of her reach. Because he had presented this bright hope, her future now appeared more bleak. For this she was almost as angry with him as she was with Ahmad.
    Morning brought the news that Ahmad was suffering the effects of his overeating the night before and would be at home all day. Chloe worked conscientiously around the house, completing her chores so nothing would prevent her from going to teach if the opportunity arose the following day. It paid off. Ahmad left early, and by midmorning she was at the house of Ismael’s mother, Willa, where classes were held once every two weeks or so on a rotating basiswith three other households. Treena had been left at home, as she didn’t feel well. Ismael escorted Chloe for a dutiful visit to his widowed mother.
    A woman of furious energy and intelligence, Willa had lost her husband to pneumonia and a young daughter to childhood illness, as well as her business. Considering her life over at forty, as few women lived much past that age in this part of the world, she had dedicated what time she had left to the underground women’s movement. Besides allowing the school to meet in her sitting room, she kept a small beauty salon in a back closet where the forbidden cosmetics, facials, hair treatments and manicures could be had. Many women enjoyed its services as a comfort in their trials and as a form of secret defiance.
    Chloe and the widow exchanged the ritual three kisses on either cheek of greeting, then settled to glasses of tea in silver holders while waiting for the pupils to gather. They spoke in strained voices of recent difficulties among their group, particularly of a woman they both knew who had had a thumbnail amputated for being caught wearing nail polish. After a few moments, Willa reached to stroke her fingertips across Chloe’s cheek. “You look tired, my dear. Is all well with you?”
    â€œNot exactly,” Chloe answered with a wan smile before going on to tell her of the many things that were taking place.
    The widow stared at her in consternation. “Oh,Chloe. How we shall miss you when you are no longer with us.”
    â€œI said the American has come for me, not that I would go with him.”
    â€œHow can you not? Unless…surely you cannot wish to marry the man chosen for you?”
    â€œI have no need for a groom, no love for any man,” she answered firmly.
    â€œSo you will defy Ahmad?” Willa’s voice was hushed.
    â€œHe hasn’t yet presented a marriage. As long as he is only considering it, worrying serves no purpose.”
    â€œBut