Angel Creek (34 page)

She felt alive for the first time since Lucas had told her what he'd done, the old glitter returning to her eyes.

Watching her closely, Tillie said, “What? What is it? Do you have an idea?”

“I do. And there's something you can do to help me.

“Anything. I'm at your disposal.”

A slow smile broke over Dee's face. “Can you get me some dynamite?”

Always interested in an adventure, Tillie went with her when Dee followed the creek bed up into the mountains to the source. It wasn't an easy trip by any means; Dee was certain there had to be an easier way, but she didn't know what it was.

They both wore pants, which was a good thing because several times they had to proceed on foot, leading their horses. They climbed and skirted and detoured, sometimes losing sight of the creek bed and having to work their way back to it. But when they
reached the fork it was unmistakable. The earthen dam curved across the east fork, sending all of that beautiful water down onto Double C land.

Dee stared at the structure that had killed her farm. If Lucas had needed the water to survive, she would have built the dam herself, a handful of mud at the time. She had been willing to sell the valley to him. But
damn
if she would let him destroy something so beautiful, something that she loved so much, just because he thought he knew what was right for her better than she did!

“Have you ever used dynamite?” Tillie asked.

“No.”

“Oh, my God.”

“Don't worry. I asked in town. The blacksmith used to do some mining and showed me how it's done.”

“Do you just light the fuse and throw it on the dam?”

“No. I'm going to plant it on the east side of the dam, at the bottom of it. That way, when it blows, it'll lower the creek bed, too.” She understood very well the dynamics of what Lucas had done, and she was going to do the same thing.

It took her a while, using a knife, to gouge out two holes in the hardened clay. She wedged the sticks of dynamite in and stretched out the long fuses. She had taken the precaution of burning lengths of fuse so she could time how long it took to burn a foot, and she estimated how long the fuse would have to be to give her time to get safely away from the blast.

“You'd better start on down the mountain,” she said to Tillie. “I'll give you five minutes before I light the fuses.”

“I'd like to watch,” Tillie said. “I came this far. I want to see you do it. I'll leave when you do.”

They looked at each other and grinned.

Dee lit the fuses.

They ran for their horses, swung into the saddle, and rode for all they were worth. Dee silently counted the seconds.

Lucas was walking along the creek bank, looking at the water rushing along, oblivious to the battles that had been fought over it. It was deeper than he'd ever seen it before, in some places deep enough to swim.

He wondered if it was worth it.

Dee had been going from door to door in town, asking for work rather than coming to him. The irony of it was that he was the one person who couldn't deny her anything, and she would rather die than ask him.

He had hoped, despite everything, that she would come to him, that she would cool down enough to realize that he'd done it to protect her. But it wasn't a matter of temper, it was a matter of a hurt so deep that she was still reeling from it.

And it was pride. There had never been a prouder creature born than Dee Swann. That didn't make it easy to love her, but if she had been less proud, less fierce, she wouldn't have been the same person, and he wouldn't have loved her to distraction. If she hadn't been so strong, she wouldn't have been able to match him in strength of will, and he couldn't have loved her otherwise. She was exactly what he needed, a true mate.

But he had struck hard at that pride, and at the independence that was such a large part of it. Dee
would not
forgive him for Angel Creek; she couldn't do that and remain the same person. He had expected—demanded—that she be less than the person she was. She had to have the freedom of independence; it fed something within her, was part and parcel of the spirit that made her so strong. How had she put it? Angel Creek didn't belong to her as much as she belonged to it.

If he forced her to come to him, to surrender her pride, it would kill something within her.

The only chance he had was to give it back to her, that independence and pride. She would never come to him except as an independent woman with her dignity intact. She would always insist on maintaining that independence, on keeping some part of herself separate. How could he blame her for that when he was the same? He would never subordinate himself to anyone else, and neither would she. She might be his partner, but never his dependent. He had never wanted it otherwise, but it had taken losing her to make him realize it.

He looked at the water again. Precious stuff, but not as precious to him as Dee.

She had turned down his marriage proposal even after he'd told her it wasn't because of Angel Creek. At the time he'd been so angry that he hadn't thought about it, but suddenly it hit him. Even if he somehow made it up to her for Angel Creek, she still wouldn't marry him. He had told her all about his plans, how he intended to make the Double C an empire by using his money to influence political decisions. He had talked about the social functions in Denver, the balls and receptions he and his wife would have to attend
because deals had a way of being made in social settings. He had been thinking of Dee at his side, had actually been arrogant enough to think he could make her over into a proper little socialite.

But Dee couldn't live that way, and she knew it. It wasn't just that she wouldn't enjoy the life; she had to be outside, free, unfettered by the suffocating rows of buildings and the unending rules of society. Had he truly been so blind that he had imagined she would fit in just because that was what he wanted? She had never asked him to change. How could he have been so stupid as to expect it of her?

He thought about all of his plans, his ambitions, and he weighed them on a mental scale. He had wanted influence only because of the Double C.

But hell, he was already rich. And Dee would bring much more to the ranch than his ambitions ever could. She would bring herself, her spirit, the children they would have.

He had to choose, and with blinding clarity he knew that there was no choice at all. He would take Dee over any amount of power or influence he could ever hope to build. He would sign the Double C over to her completely if that was what it would take to get her back. He wanted her as his partner for life.

His partner.

He blinked, astonished at the idea that had come to him. It just might work. It was the only thing he'd thought of so far that would even begin to make it up to her.

He heard the boom, low and rumbling, that came from the mountains. He looked up, expecting to see
clouds, but the sky was clear. He didn't know where the thunder had come from.

Thunder, hell! Abruptly he realized exactly what it was. His mouth fell open, and he stared at the mountains. Then, helplessly, he began to laugh.

He should have expected that she would do something about the situation. That big boom was a signal that she was back in fighting form.

It was the next day when Dee heard a horse being ridden right up to the cabin. She looked out and saw Lucas swinging down from the saddle. She had expected him the day before and wondered what had taken him so long.

She picked up the shotgun and walked out on the porch. “What do you want?” she asked without preamble.

He stopped with his boot on the first step, warily eyeing the shotgun. “Now, Dee. If you were going to use that, you should have done it the first time I saw you. It's been too late ever since then.”

She smiled. “It's never too late to correct a mistake.”

“Exactly.” He jerked his head toward the sound of running water, where Angel Creek once again flowed clear and deep. “Who set the charges for you?”

She jerked her chin up. “I didn't need anyone to do it for me. I did it myself.”

Lucas stared at her, aghast. His heart almost stopped as he thought of the danger she had been in. Damn it, didn't she know how unstable dynamite was? He hadn't even considered that she had done it
herself, though now that he thought about it he realized that he should have expected it. When had Dee ever asked anyone to do anything for her?

“Are you crazy?” he yelled, his face flushing with anger. “You could have been killed!”

She gave him a scornful look. “I suppose you think I didn't know what I was doing.”

“Did you?” he shot back.

She lifted her eyebrows at him. “Evidently,” she drawled. “I'm still here.”

He felt like banging his head against the wall in frustration, and then suddenly he laughed, because he hoped she would be driving him crazy like that for the rest of his life. Maybe he was already crazy, because he could swear he'd seen a glint of amusement in those witch-green eyes. She loved making him lose control.

“Tillie helped me,” she volunteered.

“Tillie!” He took off his hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead with an agitated motion. “Jesus.” But it made sense. Tillie would do it because she would feel obligated to atone for Kyle's sins. In this instance, Lucas knew that his own transgression had been much greater than Kyle's, even though he had done it out of love.

Dee gave him a challenging look. “If you build another dam, I'll just blow that one up, too.”

“I don't intend to build another dam,” he said irritably. “Hell, I should have blown that one up myself. I just didn't think of it in time.”

Startled, Dee stared at him. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I was wrong.” He gave her a level look, their gazes locking. “Because I didn't have any right to
build it in the first place. Because I'd do anything to get you back.”

She had never seen his eyes so blue, so determined. Her heart began thumping in her chest, but she didn't dare let him see it.

He moved up one step, and she brought the shotgun up. “Stay right there,” she warned.

He didn't even look at the shotgun. “Will you marry me?” he asked.

Involuntarily she glanced toward the creek.

“No, not because of that damn water,” he snapped. “Keep this valley. I don't need it. What I need is you. I'll have papers drawn up so that the valley remains yours, and I'll sign the Double C over to you. Just marry me.”

Dee was astounded by the offer. Her arms went limp, letting the shotgun waver and the barrel point downward. Before she could take another breath Lucas was on the porch, cautiously removing it from her hands and setting it aside.

“What did you say?” she asked dazedly.

“I said Angel Creek will stay your personal property, yours to do with as you see fit without any say-so from me. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. And I'll give you my ranch. I'll give you whatever you want if you'll just say yes.”

She had never imagined he would say anything so astounding. He simply couldn't mean what he was saying. “But. . .
why?”

He drew a deep breath; it was damn hard to put himself on the line, staking everything he had and his future happiness against her answer. “Because I need you, sweetheart. I need a wife who'll knock me in the
head when I try to ride roughshod over her, and you're the only one who has ever dared. I've lost count now of how many times I've asked you to marry me, but let's get one thing straight right now: I've never asked you because of this valley or the water. I asked you because I love you. Is that clear?”

She couldn't think of anything to say. She gaped at him, her mind as blank as a chalkboard that had been wiped clean.

“I said, is that clear?” he barked.

“You can't want me,” she blurted.

“Why the hell can't I?”

“Because . . . because I'm not what you want,” she sputtered. “You're going to spend a lot of time in Denver, and I couldn't live like that. People would make fun of me. I wouldn't fit—”

“No, you wouldn't,” he agreed maddeningly. “To hell with Denver. I'd rather have you.”

“I can't ask you to give up—”

“Goddammit, you aren't asking me to give up anything!” he roared, at the end of his patience. “I know what I want. Now answer my damn question!”

She blinked and tried to gather her scattered thoughts. “I don't want the Double C,” she said. “I wouldn't marry you because you offered me land.”

Lucas threw his hat on the porch and considered stomping it. Instead he seized her arms and shook her. “Then forget the damn land,” he said, his teeth clenched tight. “Just say you'll marry me.”

It began unfurling slowly, a bloom of joy swelling inside her chest, and she tried to contain it. If she didn't, she'd be in danger of bursting. He meant it. Incredible as it was, he meant it. He would never offer
to part with an inch of his beloved Double C unless he thought it was the only way he could convince her to marry him, yet he had offered to give her the entire ranch. He loved her, and the hot look in those blue eyes told her that he didn't feel even a tinge of regret for giving up his ambitions. He had made up his mind, and when Lucas Cochran made up his mind about something no one could change it.

“All right,” she said.

He shook her again. “All right,
what?”

She began to laugh. “Yes,” she said.

“Yes,
what?”
God, she would make him a raving maniac before the year was out.

She gave him a smile of blinding sweetness. “Yes, I love you, too. Yes, I'll marry you. But not because of the Double C or any other reason, except that I love you. Was there anything else?”

Lucas hauled her against his chest, his arms so tight that her ribs were constricted. He closed his eyes as tears burned. He had gambled his entire life on this and had been in terror that she would refuse him. “God, you're stubborn.”