Southern Seduction [Bride Train 8] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (9 page)

She nodded to show she’d heard and received a grunt in return. The door opened and another set of boots came in. The man inhaled, loudly.

“Now that smells good enough to make up for getting soaked! How’re y’all on this wet day?”

She didn’t need to turn her head to know it had to be Marshall. Her ears burned at what she’d imagined him doing.

“Shuck off those boots and those wet clothes,” ordered Cole.

“Well, look at you,” crowed Marshall. She heard the thud of his boots being tossed aside. “All ready to eat, with a cute little puppy curled on your chest like a baby.”

The slap of wet clothes hit the floor. Shirt, and then pants. She had to set the table, but if she turned around she’d see his naked body.

“Casey, did you mend my other pants? I don’t have anything dry to put on. Brrr. I’m so cold my dick’s shriveled to the size of Cole’s.”

“I, uh, put the mended clothes on your bed.” She squeaked out the words without looking. Surely that wet patch would have dried by now?

Bare feet thudded through the kitchen. Once they neared the bed she turned to the table to start the dumplings. The door slammed open and Byron came in. She looked up when he shut the door. He looked at Marshall’s pile of wet clothes and started unbuttoning. He shot her a speaking glance to remind her of his warning about them stripping down. She couldn’t turn her back without them thinking something was wrong with her. Boys didn’t care if naked men walked about in front of them. Not unless they had good reason.

So she mixed the flour and eggs, keeping her eyes on her task as Byron shucked everything. Her face was hot, her breasts fought to swell beneath her bindings, and that heavy ache between her legs was back, only worse. She looked up for just a moment. Byron was bent over, facing away, searching for something in his pants. Her mouth went dry. His arse looked even better naked. His cock and bollocks looked large. He turned his head and caught her looking.

She dropped her eyes to her bowl. It was as if she’d been hit by lightning. Every part of her, from head to toes, tingled. Thank God she’d mixed everything and could now turn her back to drop the mix into the stew. She concentrated on making sure each spoonful went in exactly the right place to cover the surface as they cooked and swelled. Marshall came out of the bedroom, dressed she hoped, and carried his things out the back. Byron did the same a few minutes later. She was still hot and aching when they sat down.

Supper was too quiet. She could barely eat from the tension bouncing from one man to the other. Byron watched her with questions in his eyes. Did he think of what she’d told him about Pappy? Was he judging her reaction to seeing him strip in front of her?

Cole either stared at his stew as he ate or gave her an assessing look that made her too flustered to think. Was he going to criticize her about her fear of him? She was doing fine until he came in furious. That made her so nervous she reacted as if she was still living with Pappy. She would’ve been fine if he hadn’t got her all jittery. Seeing Byron naked and—

“Dang it, Cole, what the hell’s got into you?” Byron tossed his spoon onto his empty plate with a clatter.

“Watch your language.” Cole glared at Byron.

“What the hell for?” asked Marshall belligerently. “Ain’t nobody but us here.”

“You’re a bad influence on Casey,” replied Cole.

He raised an eyebrow. His stare pierced her, once more setting her nerves on fire. She jumped to get the gingerbread, an excuse to turn her back. Luckily she already had pieces cut. Otherwise she might have nicked herself with her shaking hands. She put big pieces on three plates and spooned sliced canned peaches over them.

Marshall looked at his plate, then at Byron’s. “Casey, you gave Byron an extra slice of peach.” He winked at her as if to say he was only doing it to bother the others.

She didn’t serve herself. She’d barely eaten a few bites of stew. Cole’s shoulders were almost to his ears, his tension coiled even tighter than before. He cleared his throat, caught her eye, and pointed to her bench.

“Sit.”

His order was cold and abrupt. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. He narrowed his eyes at her. She bit her lip and backed away.

“Ain’t hungry,” she whispered, dropping her eyes.

“I don’t care. I gave you an order. Now, sit!”

Someone cleared his throat. She looked up, trembling. Cole’s face was red. The vein at the side of his neck throbbed. He clenched both hands into fists on the table. Byron’s eyes were narrowed as well, but he looked thoughtful more than furious. Marshall fiddled with his spoon as if eager to eat the gingerbread but not knowing if he should. He looked from Cole, to Byron, and back.

Her heart pounded so fast she felt faint. She hunched over, biting her lip to stop her jaw from trembling. He said he wouldn’t hurt her, no matter how angry he got. Byron said none of them would because they knew what it was like. Her eyes automatically flicked around the room looking for escape routes. Cole blocked the front door, but if he jumped up, she could run out the back. She slunk over to the bench and perched on the edge. She set her feet, ready to bolt. Under the edge of the table her hands twisted tight.

“Thank you,” said Cole.

His voice sounded far too pleasant, especially following the barked order he’d given her. Bart used to stand beside her and speak quietly into her ear. He’d use a real pleasant voice, smiling wide so others would think he was being nice. Only she would hear his nasty words and see the vicious look that promised harsh punishment.

“What’s this all about?” asked Marshall, frowning. He twisted his spoon between his fingers as he looked at Cole. “You look like you’re ready to beat the stuffing out of some yahoo for slipping an ace out of his sleeve.”

“Casey has a few things to tell us.” Cole turned icy eyes on her. She sensed his power reaching out to overtake her. “Let’s start with your full name.”

Her name? She stared him right in the eyes. Surely he hadn’t seen her bathing? The men she knew would have raced inside to rape her. They’d say she was asking for it. That’s why she’d made sure everyone was going to be gone a long time before she’d stripped off her filthy clothes. She set her hands on the bench, bracing herself to run.

“Don’t.” Cole growled the warning. He raised an eyebrow, making his glare even more overpowering. “You won’t leave Zeus behind, and you’d not take him out into that.” He gestured to the cold rain now slashing against the windows.

He was right. She had nowhere to go. She was caught in a trap she’d agreed to. But this was her life. She only had one, and she’d live it the best she could. She was far better off here, even with Cole angry, than back home. These men wouldn’t rape her, or worse.

Mama said there was always a silver lining, though it might take a lot to find one. She and Willy were what had made her life bearable. Casey had learned to find something good in everything. She gathered her strength, that core Mama said every woman had and could use when she must. Cole’s eyes held a flash of concern, or maybe it was just the lamp. She released the breath she’d been holding.

“What the hell does Casey’s name matter?” Marshall gave in to temptation and attacked his gingerbread. Neither Cole nor Byron moved.

“Oh, it matters,” replied Cole. His mild tone hid steel. “Tell us your full name.”

She sat straight, shoulders back and chin high. “Cassandra Wright.”

“And how old are you, Miss Wright?”

“Twenty-one.”

“What the hell?” Marshall reached one long arm out and yanked her hat off. He looked at her clean face and his eyes went wide. “You’re a woman!”

“Byron Ashcroft, Marshall Stevens, please welcome Miss Cassandra Wright to our humble home.”

Cole didn’t look at his partners as he spoke. He needed to watch Casey. She might still bolt, and he had to be ready to grab her. The way she was trembling, she could do anything. Using Zeus as a threat was perhaps cruel, but she’d die if she ran out in that storm. It was a long way to town, she didn’t know the land, and she might get washed down one of the creeks that would be raging by now.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to get through this, but there was no going back. He’d seen and heard the evidence of her womanhood, and he’d never get it out of his mind.

“I knew it!” Byron smacked his palm on the table. Casey jumped, her face showing the terror she must know so well. Byron held up both hands in apology and shoved his bench back. “You ever see her bend over?” He directed his words to Marshall. “No wonder her ass is so plump.” He shook his head, crossed his arms, and stared at her. “Why didn’t I see it when you were playing with those puppies?” He winced. “No wonder you and Willy ran off. Damn!”

“Watch your language in front of the lady.” Cole scrubbed his hand through his hair in frustration. Now that they knew she was a woman, everything had to change. Everything but the fact that they kept their hands, and other parts, far from her delicious body. At least his partners hadn’t seen her naked. Byron might be able to stay away, but Marshall wouldn’t let anything stop him from a beautiful woman if she wanted his charms.

“We’ve been treating Casey like a boy, and it didn’t bother her none,” said Marshall as if nothing was different. “Why change now?” He reached over and stole Byron’s plate of gingerbread.

“Because we are gentlemen,” replied Cole. Marshall ignored him, too busy enjoying his second dessert. “Cassandra’s been pretending to be Willy’s younger brother to save herself from rape and worse. Isn’t that correct, Miss Wright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Casey stared at her lap. At least her back was straight instead of hunching over, expecting a blow. Her face was white except for her cheeks and ears, which were red. Shame at what she’d done, or embarrassment at being found out?

“Look at me when you speak, Casey,” he gently admonished. She didn’t look up, but he wasn’t going to push her at this point. “You are still our hired cook, paid to do as you’re told.”

He spoke to her as if she was just another hired hand. He now knew she was a lovely woman, thanks to that shaft of sunlight which had changed his world. But the tasks she was hired to do hadn’t changed. He could be a gentleman and still expect her to work hard.

She was nothing like Grandma, too precious to harm with coarse work. Casey looked, acted, and spoke like the backwoods mountain gal she was. She was used to living a hard life. He and his cousins would treat her far better than her family had. Though she trembled, she looked ready to face the music. And he was the piper calling her tune.

“Casey, take my saddlebags up to the loft. I borrowed some clothes from Jessie for you. Put them on and come back down properly dressed. Leave your coat here.”

He waited to see if she would fight his order, but she stood up and stepped out from behind the bench. She dropped her coat on it and walked stiffly across the room to where he’d left his saddlebags. Now that he knew what was inside that rough shirt and pants, he couldn’t believe he’d missed the signs. Her full bottom, the hips which gently flared from her waist. All had been hidden under her suit coat and loose clothes. But if you knew what to look for, it was there. Even her pixie face, which she always hid under her hat brim.

“How long have you known?” asked Byron, frowning. “And how come you said nothing?”

“My mare came up lame this morning,” Cole explained. “I had to walk her back. When I came in the yard, I heard someone singing. She sounded just like Grandma, only better. I figured Casey was no boy so I saddled up a fresh horse and went to the Double Diamond.”

“Ye found out ’bout me ’cause ye heard me sing?”

He couldn’t tell her the truth. If she knew he’d seen her bathing, she’d have an even harder time living with them. His cock throbbed at the memory of what was under those clothes. He was going to have a damn hard time living with her!

“That hymn was one of our grandma’s favorites,” said Cole, as if it explained everything. “You have a wonderful voice, my dear. Clear and powerful.” Especially since she didn’t have that god-awful accent when she sang.

“Thankee,” she whispered.

She held the saddlebags to her chest as if they’d protect her from him. No, he’d have to do the protecting.

“We’ll sit here until you come down,” he said. “When you’re done, we’ll hang a blanket across for a wall. You’ll be sleeping up there now.” He motioned to the stairs. “Off you go. You should find everything you need.”

She worried at her lower lip and took a hesitant step.

“And take that binding from your chest,” he added. “No wonder you’re always out of breath. Now off you go.”

“Whoo-eee,” whispered Marshall once they heard her soft footsteps above them. “You can’t tell me you knew just from hearing her sing.”

“She’s clean, wearing her new clothes,” said Byron. He slanted Cole a speaking glance. “You saw her bathing.”

Cole set both elbows on the table. He clasped his hands and dropped his head on them for a moment. He exhaled, thankful that scene was over without Casey screaming, fainting, or doing something stupid like running away.

“Yep, but if she knew that, she’d be scared, furious, or both.”

“Both,” said Byron.

“What’s she look like?” asked Marshall eagerly. He drew an hourglass shape with his hands. His eyebrows wiggled like a busy caterpillar. “I bet she’s quite the looker.”

Cole sighed. He ran his hands over his face as if scrubbing off dirt. “Yep. Better than anything I could’ve dreamed.”

“So, what’re we gonna do?” Marshall grinned eagerly, though he kept his voice low.

“She’s had to be strong to get this far with all that happened to her, but she’s also got a powerful fear,” said Cole. “When Zeus bit my toe, trying to haul my sock off, she thought I was going to kill him for it.” He sighed. “If I could get my hands on that Pappy of hers, I’d string him up over a slow fire.”

“You’ll marry her, of course,” declared Byron. He shifted on the bench. He had an eager glint in his eye. “I liked her as a boy, and I’m damn sure I’ll enjoy her as a woman.”

“Whoa!” said Cole, holding up one hand. He had to make this crystal clear to his cousins. “I’ll marry her, but it’ll only be on paper. We’ll get an annulment in the spring so I can find a real wife.” He enforced his message with a glare. “That means no touching.”