Free Wade by Jennifer Blake Page A

once he does present it, you will have no choice. Why not go away while there is time?”
    â€œHow can I when I am needed so badly here?” Chloe waved toward the schoolroom.
    â€œHave you thought that it might be kismet? This man who comes may hold your destiny in his hands. It could be you are meant to return to your true home, that you may be of more service there.”
    â€œWhat are you saying?”
    â€œThink, love. You are of that modern world so different and far away over the sea. You understand it. People there may listen if you tell them what we suffer here.”
    â€œAnd they may not,” Chloe said shortly. “That world is also run by men who care more for rules and the rights of those in power than for the things endured by women.”
    â€œThey are not so hardened to suffering, I think.Some have good hearts, or so I’m told. Do you not think that in this place called Louisiana, which you speak of from time to time, that you might find men who would become our allies?”
    Was it possible? Could someone like Wade Benedict understand or care about their problems or be willing to help her effect a change? What a difference it would make.
    Could she really return to Louisiana with a free heart? How she longed to see it again, to discover if it was really the earthly paradise that lingered in her mind. She had pretended to Wade that she barely remembered, but that had been mere self-protection. She could not let him know how often she returned in dreams to that camp on the lake where everything was lush and green, the days golden and long, and her father’s love surrounded her like a benediction. If he knew, if the tall American even guessed, he would surely use it against her.
    â€œBut the most important fight is here!” she argued, clenching her hands into fists as she sought to banish unwanted images of a placid lake and a man’s naked face. “It is here that we must make a stand.”
    â€œAgainst Ahmad? He will break you. Have you learned so little of the power of the head of the family?”
    â€œI’ve learned.” Or rather she had learned to pretend, Chloe thought, to bow her head and do as she was told while hating with all her heart.
    â€œYes. Far better to bend and kiss the stick, then kill quietly while he sleeps.”
    Chloe met the other woman’s eyes at those whispered words. They were not idle. They both knew one mad old woman who now lived on the streets after sewing her abusive husband into a sheet then beating him to death with a broom, and another younger one who had served hers arsenic after the battering he gave her killed her unborn child. Women could be pushed too far.
    â€œAnd yet I fear for you,” Ismael’s mother went on after a moment. “You play the subservient female, just as we taught you with such care, but it isn’t easy for you. Because of where you were born, you are too independent of thought, too fearless and quick to rash action. You will say or do something that will get you killed.”
    â€œLike my mother,” she said, giving voice to the object lesson behind her friend’s words.
    â€œJust so. This wealth you have inherited is a gift from Allah. It could be used to aid our cause. It may be that it is meant for this purpose.”
    â€œYou really think I should go?” Chloe reached for her mint tea, avoiding the other woman’s gaze so her own would not influence the answer. The liquid in the glass reminded her of Wade Benedict’s eyes. It also brought back the tea she’d had so often in Louisiana, cold, sweet refreshment served over tinkling cubes of ice. She set her warm glass down again without drinking.
    â€œHow can I say?” Willa answered. “You must search your heart, think carefully, and then decide for yourself.”
    It wasn’t the answer Chloe wanted to hear. This was the morning she was to meet Wade Benedict in the bazaar. If she was to