Devils on Horseback: Lee, Book 4 (3 page)

Prior to the war, Lee had been young enough to only have kissed a few girls. During the war, he lost his virginity to a camp whore in the middle of a thunderstorm. It was quick, dirty and the most erotic experience of his life. It was the first of many experiences with her. He was careful to let no one know of his obsession with Fiona, the woman who’d taught him how to be a man. She followed the camp as they moved through the muddy fields during the war.

Even Zeke didn’t know the extent of Lee’s relationship with Fiona. She insisted he tell no one about his regular visits since most of the time she didn’t even charge him. It wasn’t until she disappeared that Lee realized just how badly he’d fallen for her. Hell, he almost deserted the Army to look for her. He hadn’t seen her since March 1, 1865, more than two years ago.

Sometimes at night, in his deepest dreams, he would think of her, the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin, the tang of the sweat on her neck. He would wake up shaking and sweating, aching for release in her welcoming body.

Yet she had vanished so completely, even the other women around camp denied knowing her. Lee always wondered what he’d do if she reappeared in his life. A fairy tale to be sure. Considering he was only half the man he’d been before the war, Fiona would likely turn away from him as had every other woman he’d been attracted to since he’d lost his arm.

That is, until he met Genevieve.

She had spoken to him as if having one arm was an everyday thing, as if he could adapt easily. The thought that she could be right never entered his mind. Genevieve didn’t know one damn thing about losing a limb and couldn’t possibly know how fucking hard it was. He’d come to the farm as a favor to Gabby and Jake, and to have the time to put his own life in order. The fact he was there to help the widow was secondary considering there wasn’t much he could do.

With as much trepidation as curiosity, Lee stepped into the house. The interior was lit by a single window over the sink and a lantern on the table. Obviously Genevieve’s husband hadn’t thought windows were important in a house. Likely the man was too damn lazy to put them in or too cheap to pay for them.

The rich smell of food filled the air. She was definitely making some kind of stew for dinner, with potatoes and possibly turnips. His stomach picked that moment to rumble, and he hoped like hell she hadn’t heard it.

Genevieve sat at the table, a blue shirt in hand with needle poised in the air. The thread was a slim connection between the needle and the fabric, glinting in the lamplight. A basket was beside her on the floor, with various shirts and trousers stacked in a neat pile. She gestured to the chair across from her.

“Please sit.”

Lee took a second to review the layout of the house. Along with two closed doors and a large open room, it appeared to be a simple plan with only one entrance that also served as the exit. He pulled the chair to the side of the table so his back was to the wall, then sat down.

She raised one eyebrow at his behavior, but said nothing about it. “What brings you out here, Mr. Blackwood?”

He realized she wasn’t going to make this easy, but then again, his behavior earlier didn’t exactly speak of a polite welcome either.

“Gabby asked me to come,” he blurted. Was there ever a time he could actually speak without making an ass of himself? “I mean, she told me about your situation and thought I should come out here and see if I could help.” He shrugged. “I told her I didn’t think I was the man for the job, but she and Jake do. Not much I can do on a farm, but I’m here.”

She pushed the needle through the fabric a few more times before she spoke. “That’s a flattering offer, Mr. Blackwood.”

Was she being serious or did he detect sarcasm? He didn’t know her well enough to tell.

“Did Gabby tell you what kind of help I needed?” she continued.

“Farm work, chores and such.” Lee hadn’t asked Gabby for more details and probably should have. Now he regretted that.

“It’s a bit more than that. We’ve got to bring in the crop.” She nodded in the direction of the window. “About one hundred acres worth. Without it, Sophie and I won’t last the winter.”

The very idea that this woman and her child’s life depended on his ability to bring in a hundred-acre wheat crop made him break out in a cold sweat. He didn’t want to be responsible for them, and he damn sure wasn’t able to bring in that much damn wheat by himself.

Her husky voice stopped him before he could even move. “Before you run for the door, let me say something first.” She set the shirt down on the table and folded her hands in front of her. “You would not be alone doing this. I have always helped Henry with the harvest. This farm is all I’ve got to give Sophie, and I intend on doing everything I can do to keep it running for her. I know this is a lot to ask of a stranger, but I will give you a room to sleep in while you’re here, feed you whenever you’re hungry and new clothes to take with you when you go.”

Lee glanced at the shirt, realizing she wasn’t mending it, but rather altering it. She’d already begun making him the clothes he’d take with him before he even said yes. Never mind all his worldly belongings were in the saddlebags outside, or that he’d already moved out of the mill. He wasn’t sure he could do what she needed him to. No, he knew he couldn’t do it.

“I appreciate the offer, Miz Blanchard. I’m not sure I can do much in a wheat field. I don’t even have two hands.”

“I’ve got two and between us, we’ve got three. There isn’t anything you can’t do if you’ve a mind to, Mr. Blackwood. I learned that at an early age running the streets of New O— Well, let’s just say I’m not a quitter.” Her gaze was steady and penetrating. “I won’t beg though, so if you want to be on your way, then so be it.”

He took in her earnest expression, the pride obvious in her tone and posture, and the fact she was alone, fighting for her daughter. Whether or not she’d ever worn a uniform, Genevieve Blanchard was a soldier. He respected that more than anything.

“I guess you’ve got yourself a farmhand then.”

When Genevieve smiled, Lee recognized he’d just set himself up to live in a house with a woman whose voice incited erotic fantasies and whose smile lit up a room.

Damn.

Chapter Three

Dinner might have been delicious, but Genny didn’t enjoy it. The stew tasted like sawdust and her stomach jumped like a passel of frogs. Lee barely spoke two words and Sophie spent the meal staring daggers at the man.

It was a ridiculous mess of Genny’s own making.

When he’d walked in the cabin, everything seemed to shrink. The man was big, bigger than she remembered, and damn but he smelled good. She breathed him in, a mixture of soap, man and outdoors. It was a heady combination, and much to her consternation, made her admit to herself that she was definitely attracted to him. That was something she didn’t need, especially now when her future was so uncertain.

Genny probably should have simply accepted his denial of being able to work around the farm. It would have eliminated the discomfort of being attracted to someone she could never be with. The easy way out, but she didn’t have that choice. The practical side of her took over and insisted she convince him to stay. She didn’t fancy starving to death and losing the one good thing Henry had left behind.

Genny mechanically chewed the food while surreptitiously watching Lee out of the corner of her eye. He ate like a gentleman, never getting food stuck in the corner of his mouth or spilling it down his shirt. Someone had taught him amazing table manners, better than hers as a matter of fact.

His lower lip was slightly plumper than the top one, giving him the look as if he was ready to kiss someone. She tried to stop herself from fantasizing what it would be like to kiss him and failed miserably. It wasn’t as if Genny hadn’t been with a man before, but no man actually made her squirm in her darned chair.

“Mama, what are you doing?” Sophie’s voice broke through Genny’s cloud of stupidity.

“Hmm?”

Sophie scowled at her. “You were moaning like your belly hurt, then licked the spoon like we was making frosting or something.”

Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. She couldn’t possibly have been acting like that, no sir. After all, she had iron self-control that couldn’t be broken by an attraction to a man she’d only just met. Not a chance.

“The stew is just so delicious.” She managed a small smile. “I was real hungry after all the chores I did today.”

Lee, bless his heart, didn’t look up from his bowl. Thank God. It was bad enough Sophie noticed her behavior and pointed it out to all of them, but if Lee had been staring at her, Genny would have had to fire him before he even started working for her.

“I think it tastes like horse shit.” Sophie threw her spoon on the table and stalked out the door, leaving Genny openmouthed and even more embarrassed than she had been.

She knew her daughter had been acting wild, but she hadn’t expected the girl to start cussing like Henry had. Genny had already decided she needed to discipline the girl, and as anger pushed the shame aside, she rose to her feet to follow Sophie.

Lee’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Let her be. Girl is upset about me being here and taking her father’s place working the farm. If you go fuss at her now, it’ll only get worse.”

Genny knew he must have certainly struggled because of the loss of his arm. Gabby told her he was a good man, but aside from that, she had known next to nothing about him. Until now.

In his eyes she saw so many things that it was difficult to take them all in. Pain so deep she nearly felt it herself, shame, guilt, and most of all, anger. In the corners, however, she saw tiny bits of hope, forgiveness and charity. Lee was no simple man with simple needs—he was as twisted up inside as she was. Likely take a bonfire to chase away all the shadows lurking in him.

It was unusual for a man to understand a little girl, doubly so considering he didn’t know Sophie, and Henry never even came close to understanding in the seven years since her birth. Genny was almost overwhelmed with what she’d learned in the last sixty seconds about Lee Blackwood. She groped for the words to bring her focus back.

“I, uh, yes. You’re right, of course. It’s been a hard year for her, with losing her pa and all.” If not a complete lie, then a partial one. “You been around young’uns much?”

Lee let her arm loose and the loss of heat made her shiver. He was so blessedly warm.

“Nope. I was the youngest in my family.” He turned his attention back to the stew and didn’t speak again for the rest of the meal, which was a good thing.

While he ate, Genny used the time to find her self-control. It had been quite a while since she’d felt the need to do so. While living with Henry, she either had to hang on with gritted teeth or lose herself completely. Lee, on the other hand, made her want to let all of her walls down. That could never happen.

She rose and started washing the dishes, not waiting to see if he was still eating or had left the table. There would be too many meals to count in the coming weeks and she shouldn’t let herself get worked up over the man each and every time. He would be working for her, an employee, not a lover or friend. She had to keep that in her mind at all times.

Easier said than done of course.

When he stepped up beside her, silent as a cat, she jumped a good foot off the ground. His brows rose but he simply handed her a plate without commenting. No doubt the heat in her cheeks indicated she was blushing like a fool. Up close, she could smell him again, and it was somewhat intoxicating.

“I’ll go get started in the barn.” He disappeared before she could respond.

Genny reminded herself that farm chores were what she hired him for. Certainly she didn’t need him to be in the kitchen underfoot and around her, confusing and arousing her.

She barely resisted the urge to follow him.

Lee couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the house. The woman was odd, and the girl even odder. They gave him a damn eye twitch with all the strange goings-on. He wasn’t about to attribute it to himself because aside from being an ex-soldier with a missing arm and a short fuse, Lee was normal. Genevieve and Sophie were beyond any experience he’d had and it made him off balance to be around them. Next time he went to town, he’d need to find out about her dead husband and see just how crazy the man had been.

The farm itself looked tired, hell even the buildings were sagging as if they needed a long rest. The only thing that looked in somewhat good shape was the barn. No doubt the man had horses he wanted to keep safe. Lee had known many men like that, ones who valued money above all else, including their flesh and blood. Gideon’s pa had been such a man, a terrible uncle to Lee and Zeke, a worse father to Gid.

Lee stepped into the gloom of the barn after kicking the door twice to get it open. The smell hit him first—old shit and piss were hard to miss. His eyes watered and he turned to get both doors open before he ventured any farther into the building. There was a significant amount of scuttling, likely a colony of mice and critters making their home in the filth of the barn.

The wagon sat in the middle, leaving five feet on each side to walk. There appeared to be ten stalls and one horse all the way at the far end. By the looks of the bay, it was the ancient nag he’d seen in town pulling the wagon. He lifted his head and neighed softly as he saw Lee—the horse probably couldn’t smell anymore or he would probably have refused to even enter the barn.

Lee walked down the length of the building toward the only occupant. He glanced in each stall as he passed, noting the mildew-covered straw and old piles of manure long since forgotten. One stall held two fresh bales of hay. The horse had a friendly disposition and nuzzled his great head against Lee’s shoulder, breathing in his scent.

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Lee petted his neck as the equine got to know him. “What’s your name?”

“His name is Ned.” The girl’s voice almost made him jump. She was quiet as a cat in socks, for Pete’s sake. Judging by her tone, she was just as obnoxious and sassy as she’d been earlier.

Lee smiled grimly at the horse. Little Miss Sophie had no idea who she was dealing with. When he turned to look at her, he put on his fiercest expression. “It’s important to take care of your horse so he can take care of you. Does your mama know you don’t keep this barn clean? Or that it smells worse than five outhouses put together? Does she know you keep moving Ned from stall to stall because you don’t want to clean his shit?”

“That’s none of your business.”

She leaned against the wagon wheel, arms crossed, britches held up by a piece of rope. This one reminded him of Nate’s Elisa—all piss and vinegar, ready to fight the world at the drop of a hat. For all the fighting he’d done with their dapper, well-spoken Devil, Lee found the memory of Nate made his throat close up. Damn, he never thought he’d miss the man who married the fiery-tongued Elisa and settled on their ranch a couple days east of them. Lee shook himself to get rid of the soft feelings for the natty Devil and focused on the girl in front of him. Somebody needed to paddle her little ass.

“It is if I’m to work for your mama. It smells in here and needs to be cleaned up so grab a pitchfork and a wheelbarrow. You need to earn your keep considering this is your mess.” He saw the answer in her eyes before she even opened her mouth to speak. “Don’t bother telling me I can’t order you around. I sure as hell can. Your mama asked for help and I’m gonna give it. That starts with not taking any backtalk from a half-pint like you. Now get the damn pitchfork before I get it for you.”

“We don’t need no man ’round here.” She pooched out her lower lip so far a bird could’ve landed on it.

“Too bad because you’ve only got me. Now git to work, girl.” He didn’t wait for her to obey, instead he turned his back and got busy himself. After he led Ned to join his horse in the sorry excuse for a corral—nearly half the boards were crooked and the other half missing—he went back inside the barn to find Sophie mucking Ned’s stall.

“That’s a start, but every one of these needs to be cleaned. Probably need to tie a cloth around our mouths because it’s foul as hell in here.” His eyes were already watering. How did they stand it?

“You shouldn’t cuss around me. Mama says it ain’t proper.” She didn’t look up from her task as she admonished him. The girl was a forty-year-old woman in the body of a seven-year-old.

“I ain’t no gentleman so it don’t matter one whit. Besides which, I heard you cussing not twenty minutes ago.” He glanced around and spotted another pitchfork hanging on a nail near the door. Lee stared at it, remembering the painful attempts at using a pitchfork with one arm and just how frustrating it was. No help for it though, he was hired to work and that was that.

Half an hour later, Lee wanted to ride back to town. His back screamed for mercy as sweat ran in rivers down his face. He’d chosen the stall with the driest manure to begin since it weighed the least. He stuck the end of the pitchfork under his left arm, or the stump as he called it. Then, by gripping the wooden handle with his armpit, he could guide the implement to the pile and scoop a chunk of the horse shit and hay. Things appeared to be in good shape with the first attempt.

However, without two hands, hefting the full pitchfork into the wheelbarrow was more than difficult. He lost half of it trying to flip the pitchfork, and got at least half a dozen splinters in the skin under his shirt. Cognizant of the little ears in the barn, he cursed under his breath.

Jake was wrong, completely, utterly wrong. Lee couldn’t do it. There was just no possible way he could be a farmhand when he couldn’t even muck out the fucking stalls. How the hell was he supposed to do things like put in a fence post or hold a board to nail it in? He was crippled and nothing would change that, no matter how much he wished it would.

“You need a harness.” Sophie’s voice startled him yet again.

“What the hell are you doing?” He wiped his arm across his sweaty brow and tried to slow down his racing heart.

She looked dirtier than the floor with smudges of God only knew what on her face and arms. He reluctantly acknowledged she had been working, when he honestly expected her not to given the sass in her. “You need a harness, like Ned. He can’t plow the field without a harness to hold the plow ’cause he ain’t got no hands either.”

Lee’s face grew hot at the bald statement, but damned if the little imp wasn’t right.

Genny crept into the barn with a bucket full of cool water in case her new employee was thirsty. Of course, she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she was really checking on Lee. She was afraid he’d run back to Tanger or maybe she wanted to be around him again. That thought made her almost blush. The soft murmur of voices came from the back of the barn as the stench of the mess made her eyes burn. She knew the barn needed work, a lot of it, and felt guilty each time she moved Ned to another stall, but there was only so much she could do. It really was embarrassing to have a stranger see how bad things had gotten on the farm.

Yet this was why she needed help and, grudgingly, a man’s strength. Genny wasn’t tiny, but she just couldn’t pick up a fence post and put it in a hole, and she surely could not harvest acres and acres of wheat. Lee wasn’t what she was expecting, but then again, he was working for next to nothing. He might not have two hands, but he had strength in abundance judging by the width and size of his shoulders.

When she walked nearer to the stalls, she heard Sophie tell him he needed a harness like the horse, and Genny’s face heated. Oh hell, did the child have no manners at all? And whose fault was that? Certainly not Henry, he barely even looked at Sophie and had no hand in raising her.

No, the blame lay squarely on Genny’s shoulders. Since Lee’s arrival at the farm, nothing had gone right between the girl and the man—this was just another nail in Genny’s coffin of bad choices.

Genny walked quickly toward them, her mind whirling with the right way to apologize for Sophie’s too-honest ways. Mr. Blackwood had agreed to her terms of employment knowing she had a child, but it didn’t involve her daughter’s insults.

“You’re right.”

His softly worded response made her pause in mid-stride. Surprise kept her there.