The Devil's Daughter (13 page)

The sounds of the horses moving restlessly in the barn filtered around them.

“You’re welcome.” Jed’s jaw twitched slightly before he asked, “Want a ride back to town? We can hitch up the wagon if you like.”

Lucy caught her jaw before it fell open, but Deacon’s brow shot upward in surprise.

“No. Beasts of burden and all.”

Relief washed over Jed’s face. “Right. Well, it was good to meet you.”

Why was he being so kind to the same man he’d seemed ready to rip apart just an hour earlier?

Jed held out his hand, but it was a long strained minute before Deacon gave it a quick shake.

“Yes,” Deacon said, his tone in complete disagreement with his words. “It’s been
interesting
. Good night to you, Lucille. Miss Blake.”

Lucy tried to cover Berta’s whimper with a cough, but there was no fooling the likes of Deacon. With another short bow, he walked into the shadows of the house and out of sight.

Jed blew a long low breath and scratched his head.

“Think I know why you didn’t tell me about him sooner.”

“Deacon’s, um--” Lucy’s heart hammered against her ribs-- “different.”

“That’s one word for it.”

She studied his profile, watching him stare into the darkness that a moment before had been Deacon.

“Berta?” She turned to the woman, who remained on her chair, frozen in place. “Are you ill?”

Berta shook her head slowly, her eyes never blinking away from the darkness Deacon disappeared into.

“I need to see to Maggie.” With that, Berta lifted her chair and the one Deacon had used and carried them back to the house. A second after the door closed, the Bible thudded against the ground.

Was Berta going mad, too?

Lucy sighed. She didn’t trust Berta any more than she trusted any human, and having her here meant one more person she’d need to get through to get to Maggie.

Sitting on the large boulder near the fire, Jed held his arms out and eased her onto his lap.

“When did you speak to him?” Jed asked.

“Hmm?”

He nodded toward the darkness. “He said you’d told him all about me.”

“Oh, that.” Lucy forced a laugh, shaky though it was. “He stopped by a few days ago.”

“He what?” Jed roared. “How did he know you were here? Where was I? And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Hush or you’ll frighten Maggie and Berta.”

Think
.

Jed would not be put off. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“In case you didn’t notice,” she said softly, “Deacon isn’t someone I’m terribly fond of – even if he is my brother. And I was hoping you wouldn’t have to ever meet him.”

Jed half-nodded, half-shrugged. “You should have told me.”

“You’re right.” She moved closer and rested her hand on his arm. “You surprised me when you offered him a ride back to town. I doubt anyone else would have done the same.”

A slight shrug lifted his right shoulder. “He’s family, Lucy. Can’t say I’m happy about that, but family’s family.” He grinned slowly. “Truth be told, I just wanted to get him out of here as fast as I could.”

She could learn to like this husband of hers. She wouldn’t, of course, but she
could
.

“What in blazes was that thing in his hat – a weasel?” Jed asked, shaking his head.

A small laugh escaped Lucy’s throat. “It’s a ferret.”

“A what?”

“A ferret,” she repeated. ”He’s had it about a month now.”

“Ugliest thing I ever saw.” Jed shook his head slowly. “What kind of animal has red eyes?”

He downed the rest of his coffee, rinsed his mug and set it near the water bucket.

“Wanna help me tend the horses? They’re a little restless tonight.”

Not restless. Scared.

Lucy took her husband’s offered hand and walked with him to the barn. “I’ll just watch,” she said. “I’m like Deacon when it comes to big animals.”

Jed squeezed her hand slightly as he led her inside. “You, dear Lucy, are
nothing
like your brother.”

Even with his back to her, Jed sensed Lucy’s every breath. Something wasn’t right. She’d followed him into the barn, but hadn’t spoken a single word.

He finished with the horses, set the water bucket outside, and closed the door.

“You’ve been awfully quiet since your brother left.” He pressed his hand against the small of her back and gently urged her back toward the dying fire. “Something wrong?”

Lucy shook her head, but Jed wasn’t convinced. The moment Deacon arrived, it was like a dark cloud fell over her.

“Don’t let him upset you.” He tried to smile, but she wouldn’t look at him. “If you don’t mind my saying so, Lucy, your brother’s an ass.”

They stopped at the fire, but it was a long moment of silence before she looked up at him. Her green eyes, usually snapping with fire or mischief, were now dull, almost lifeless.

Then it struck him.

“Oh my God.” He took her by the shoulders and stared down at her. “You’re scared of him, aren’t you?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

“Has he hurt you before?”

When she spoke, her voice came out as flat and lifeless as the look in her eyes.

“Not how you think.”

“Sweet Jesus, Lucy, why didn’t you tell me?”

Again, she didn’t answer, just looked at him with that wooden expression.

He pulled her into his arms and breathed softly against her hair. “You’re safe here.”

Lucy pulled out of his arms and stepped back. “You can’t stop him, he’s too strong. He has power you can’t even imagine.”

A direct slap to his face he could have taken. But a slap to his pride. . .that was completely different.

How could she possibly think a no-account bootlicker like Deacon would be any kind of threat to them? She must think Jed was pathetic. He rubbed his palm across his mouth, smothering a string of curses.

If she thought Deacon was more of a man than him, what chance did he stand of winning her respect?

“Lucy, listen to me.” He tossed a few more chips on the fire, then pulled her up so he could sit on the rock with her on his lap. “Deacon doesn’t scare me. If he even tries--”

A sad chuckle fell from her lips. “You don’t understand. It won’t matter who you are, or who I am. When Deacon decides to do something, he does it.” Her voice lowered to barely a whisper. “There’ll be no stopping him.”

Jed wondered on that a moment. How strong could a dandy like Deacon possibly be? He couldn’t threaten them physically – it might mean his nancy-boy gloves would get dirty.

Light from the stoked fire danced across her pale, drawn cheeks. She let out a long weary sigh – something that worried Jed more than anything else.

In the short time he’d known Lucy, she’d never allowed anything to defeat her. Sure, she’d ripped dresses and threatened to throw pots, but she’d never let anything beat her down before. She simply buckled down and tried again.

She had a fire inside that refused to be doused. Until tonight. And even though her stubbornness was a challenge Jed hadn’t counted on, he much preferred that to this defeated and crushed Lucy.

She obviously wasn’t going to say anything further on the matter. He eased her head down to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her.

“You’re safe with me. No one can hurt you now.”

A soft sniff was her only answer, but it wasn’t long before the neck of his shirt began to feel damp against his skin. He’d never known what to do with a woman when she cried, so he simply sat there, holding her and murmuring reassurances into her hair.

Damn Deacon. Damn him to Hell and back.

No one made Jed Caine’s wife cry.

No one.

 o0o

She was getting weaker. She didn’t know why, but she had to do whatever it took to stop it.

Deacon had always been strong, had always been able to douse what little light she had in her soul with minimal effort. But she’d never cried over it before – at least not in front of anyone. Last night she’d done her best to ward him off, to keep him away from her soul, but he’d still managed to weasel his way in somehow.

Her only victory had been Deacon’s arrogance. So intent was he on turning Jed, he hadn’t noticed his affect on Lucy – and that was the edge she needed.

She’d made the mistake of letting him surprise her, of letting him overwhelm her with his mere presence last night – a mistake she wouldn’t soon repeat. She needed to regain her strength, to focus on her plan, and to prevent Jed’s comforting words and touches from fogging her vision again.

In truth, his touch caused an eruption of disturbing sensations. Strong, tender, and gentle, his hands left her feeling both safe and vulnerable at the same time. Her heart physically ached last night when he’d put his arm around her. If he had any idea of who she really was, he never would have touched her.

Anger, frustration and fear boiled out first, followed by desolation and loneliness. These were not new to her, but since when did she feel them for another soul?

Last night, she’d felt everything for Jed. Fear of what Deacon could do to him, and anger at not having the strength to stop it from happening. But it was only when Jed set her on his lap and held her that the loneliness hit her.

If she won her freedom – no,
when
she won it - Jed would no longer be there with her. He’d never force another cup of her coffee down his throat, he’d never again suggest she restock the supply of buffalo chips, and he’d never run his fingers up her arms or over her back as he had last night after Deacon left.

She’d never feel Jed’s mouth on hers again. And she’d never feel that swirling dive in her stomach when he leaned in for a kiss. Jed would be gone.

Lucy rolled over on the scratchy blanket and stared through the gloom at the barn wall.

What did she care if she never saw Jed Caine again? And what did she care if he never kissed her again? She could have kisses from any man she wanted.

Oddly enough, the thought of kissing any other man was about as appealing as kissing one of those damned chips in the yard.

The sounds of Jed starting the morning fire filtered through the cracks around the door. Any minute now, he’d slip in to get his precious coffeepot as he did every morning.

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. If she didn’t look at him, she’d have a few more minutes to shake the clouds from her head and focus on what needed to be done. And even though the plan seemed less alluring than it had a week ago, it was still the plan.

She needed to get through Jed’s soul and she wasn’t going to do it by falling apart every time Deacon showed his face. Her brother had no idea how determined she was. He’d always thought of her as a weakling and until now, he’d been right.

But not this time.

The barn door creaked open, and Jed tiptoed inside. As usual, he was a rumpled mess, with his shirt buttoned wrong, hanging part way out of his waistband, and bearing yesterday’s sweat stains. Lucy stayed tucked under the blanket, watching and waiting.

In less than a minute, he’d collected his coffee supplies and slipped back outside.

Jed Caine was a handsome man, no question, but for some reason, that fact was multiplied a thousand fold when he first woke up. It might be because he looked so warm and vulnerable, or because she knew minutes before he’d been lying next to her, all warm and masculine.

Or maybe it was simply because morning was the only time of day he didn’t wear that stupid hat.

Jed Caine had amazing hair; wavy, silky and begging to be touched. Yet he insisted on hiding it under that wide-brimmed monstrosity.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing his image from her mind.

Be strong. Focus.

After a few long deep breaths, she slipped out of bed, and pulled the blanket around her. It didn’t matter how attracted she was to Jed. What mattered was how attracted he was to her and how she would turn that attraction into love.

It would help if she had any idea how to tell the difference between his lust and love. Though many humans believed the two to be the same, Jed obviously did not cotton to that way of thinking.

Until she figured out how to tell the difference, simple desire would have to do.

With teeth chattering and fingers shivering, she dropped the blanket and rid herself of the dress she’d slept in. Then, quick as she could, she pulled the blanket around her again, leaving it open just enough to bare her shoulder and the thin string holding her chemise in place.

With her boots pulled on but unlaced and her teeth clenched to stop their rattling, she stepped out into the chilly morning air. Cold be damned, she had work to do, and not a great deal of time to do it. Once she was free, she wouldn’t have to worry about baring skin. She could dress in as many layers as she liked – as long as they were pretty layers, of course.