The Devil's Daughter (16 page)

Sleep lingered in her movements, her body not fully awake yet, and her eyes blinked hard against the glare of the morning sun.

“Shall we try this again?” she asked with a teasing smile. “Good morning, Jed. How did you sleep?”

She pressed a small kiss against his cheek before wrinkling her nose at his mug of steaming coffee.

Jed resisted the urge to pull her back for a better kiss. No matter how often he looked at her, the desire to touch never lessened – even when she looked like a shapeless lump with that blanket hanging around her.

“Slept like a baby.” He grinned back. “Never better.”

“Glad to hear it.” She laughed again – the same genuine laugh as earlier – and all Jed could do was stare at her.

How the hell did he ever get so lucky? Of all the men she could have chosen, of all the men who would have sold their souls to be her husband, she’d picked him.

It still nettled him that he wouldn’t be her first, but at least he had the comfort in knowing he’d be her last. No other man would ever touch his Lucy again.

“I made tea,” he said when he’d found his tongue again. “Don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.”

If he expected her to jump up and down with excitement, he was sorely disappointed. In fact, she almost looked confused.

“You have had tea before, haven’t you?”

“No,” she laughed softly. “But if it smells anything like that mud you drink, I’ll have to decline.”

Jed shook his head in mock disappointment.

There was a change in her he couldn’t quite pin, but it was good. No, it was amazing.
She
was amazing.

“Try this.” He poured a mug of tea, added a spoonful of sugar and handed it to her.

She eyed it warily, then him, but accepted the mug and lifted it to her nose. Her first sniff eased some of the doubt from her frown. After the second sniff, she kept the mug close to her nose. And the third sniff finally convinced her to try a sip.

As she lifted it to her lips, a whippoorwill cried sharply from the roof of the house.

“Caref--,” Jed began, but it was too late.

“Yow!” Lucy slopped half the tea into the fire in her haste to get it away from her tongue.

“It’s hot,” he finished on a lame note.

“Thanks for the warning.” Using the corner of the blanket, she wiped the sloshed tea from her chin while carefully balancing the mug in her other hand.

He tried not to laugh, he really did. But how could he not?

“Thought the steam would have been a pretty clear warning,” he chuckled over the rim of his mug.

Fire snapped back to life in Lucy’s eyes. Her mouth opened, for what Jed was sure would be an angry retort. But instead, she closed it again and smiled.

“Okay,” she answered. “You win. But I’m not even half awake yet – how can I think clearly?”

“It’s tea. It’s supposed to help you wake up.”

“It is?”

Jed shook his head slowly, and even as he spoke the words, he regretted each one. “How can you not know these things?”

Lucy’s smile faded, and her eyes hardened. “Just stupid, I guess.”

“Lucy.” He stepped closer. “That’s not what I meant.”

She didn’t answer, but stood with her face turned toward the fire. Jed reached over and plucked a piece of straw from the blanket. He held it a long moment before dropping it into the fire.

“I’ve just never met anyone who never tasted coffee or tea before.” Jed shrugged out his apology. “Doesn’t mean you’re stupid.”

When she finally looked at him, he offered her a small grin, too.

“I reckon it means I’m the stupid one for not thinking before I go and open my big pie-hole.”

Lucy lips twitched. “Now that’s something we can finally agree on, husband.”

“Am I forgiven?”

A look so odd crossed her face that Jed couldn’t even begin to guess what it meant or what she was thinking.

“You want
me
to forgive
you
?”

He shrugged again, grinning. “That’s normally how this works. Someone says they’re sorry and the other person forgives them.”

“Hmm,” she mused. “Interesting. I’ve never forgiven anyone before.”

The shock of that simple statement nearly yanked Jed’s jaw to the ground. But rather than upset her again, he forced a look that he could only hope was anything but surprised.

If he didn’t know better, he’d swear Lucy had dropped clean out of the sky or something.

He swallowed the rest of his coffee, tipped her a nod and pointed toward the tea.

“Willing to try it again?” he asked. “I recommend you blow on it a little to cool it down first.”

Lucy lifted the mug again, blew a few times and took another tentative sip. Then another. Wonder filled her face as her eyes began to light up again.

“Mmmm,” she managed between sips. “It’s warming me up from the inside out!”

Jed wanted to be the one warming her up. Hell, with what he wanted to do to her, they’d probably both burst into flames. He shook himself from that train of thought and cleared his throat.

“I was thinking,” he said.

“Oh no,” she moaned. “Every time you say that, I find myself knee deep in prickly pear and mesquite bushes.”

“No,” he laughed. “Not this time.”

She allowed him to refill her mug, then settled herself on the ground. Jed refilled his own mug, and sat next to her, fighting the urge to crawl inside that damned blanket with her.

“What would you think about going into town today?” he asked.

Lucy started so quickly, she nearly spilled her tea again.

“Into town?” She wiped a drop of tea from her bottom lip, a simple movement that had Jed adjusting his position to find a comfortable spot again.

“Yes,” he finally managed. “I need to pick up some supplies, and I figured while we were there, we could go find you a dress you won’t want to rip apart. Maybe a coat, too.”

Lucy’s eyes widened with every word. “Really? A coat?”

“Sure,” he laughed. “Unless you want to keep that blanket with you all the time.”

“Uh, no,” she admitted. “But why would you waste more money on me?”

“Waste?” Jed scratched his head and frowned. “If it makes you happy, Lucy, it’s not wasted.”

She didn’t look impressed with his gallantry. Instead, she looked wary.

“Are you sure you can you afford it? You don’t even have the herd yet.”

Jed tapped her on the nose. “Yes,
we
can afford it. Don’t worry. And while we’re in town, I’ll go make the final arrangements with George to take over part of his herd.”

Lucy carefully sipped her tea and nodded along with him, even as a frown crinkled her forehead. Of course she was worried – Deacon was staying in town somewhere. Maybe this was Jed’s chance to prove he could handle Deacon. Maybe Lucy would finally realize there was nothing to worry about from an ass like Deacon.

“It’ll be fine, Lucy.”

She looked up at him, but Jed would have sworn she didn’t actually see him. It was as though she were looking through him.

In a rush of energy, she leapt up, dropping the blanket to her feet, but keeping her tea tight in hand. She filled a large pot with the remaining water from the bucket and set it atop the fire.

“I can’t very well go to town looking like this,” she announced, then eyed him skeptically. “And neither can you.”

Jed couldn’t help laughing. This was the Lucy he needed back. The Lucy who would rather die than let others see her looking anything but her best. The Lucy who’d deny it forever, but who had as much pride as Jed himself.

“I’ll go clean up at the creek,” he said when he’d stopped laughing at her.

“Ooh, the creek,” she mused. “A bath
would
be better.”

Oh no. The mere thought of Lucy standing naked in his creek was more than Jed could stand. In fact, he couldn’t stand at all at the moment.

He needed to keep her away from that creek – it was his sanctuary; the one place he could go to control his urges with the cold water. Granted, it didn’t control them completely, but at least it helped manage them a little.

“I don’t know,” he croaked. “That water’s mighty cold. You sure you want to. . .expose. . .yourself to that?”

Lucy didn’t seem to notice the strain in his voice or the way his teeth ground together with each word.

“Maybe not.” She grinned, then focused back on the pot of water. “I’ll wash up here, you go to the creek, and we’ll get going as soon as possible.”

She pulled the coffeepot from the rocks. “Are you done with this?”

Before Jed could answer, she emptied the pot on the ground with one graceful swing of her arm. But she made sure her mug was filled before she sent the remaining tea in the same direction.

“Guess I’m done now,” he muttered, struggling to his feet.

The look of excitement on Lucy’s face doused any irritation he had over a stupid pot of coffee.

“I’ll tend the horses, then go clean up,” he said. “Be ready in an hour?”

“An hour?” Lucy shook her head. “Oh no, dear husband, we’ll be well on our way in an hour – so you best get going.”

She pulled the mug from his fingers – the still half-full mug – and pushed him toward the barn. He reached back for his coffee but she’d already dumped it out.

Damn. If she weren’t so adorable, he’d almost be angry. Almost.

Instead, he trudged off to feed and water the horses, grinning stupidly the entire time. He took his time harnessing them to the wagon. After all, no woman could possibly have her chores done and be dressed within an hour. He had plenty of time to get ready and plenty of time to ponder this woman he’d married.

If someone had told him two weeks ago that he’d be married to a woman like Lucy, he never would have believed them. And if they told him he’d be happy about it, he’d have thought them completely mad.

Yet there he was, married to a woman so unlike himself it could hardly be believed.

And he liked it.

Actually, truth be told, he more than liked it. He couldn’t imagine being married to any of those other girls at the auction, and he offered a silent word of thanks for the odd turn of events that got him to where he was.

If he’d followed his plan the way he’d set out to, would he be this happy? Somehow, he doubted it.

The creek did little to wash Lucy out of his mind. In fact, he kept envisioning her standing knee-deep in the water, her eyes laughing back at him, her body dripping with –

”Stop it,” he muttered. “Just stop it.”

He scrubbed his own body with the hard yellow soap, rinsed quickly, and dressed in his clean set of clothes. Dried soap flaked from his shirt as he buttoned it over his still-damp skin. Hopefully one day Lucy would learn how to rinse better before she hung the clothes to dry.

But he wasn’t about to mention it to her. He’d just wear whatever was clean and be damned thankful he wasn’t the one who’d had to use that cursed scrub board.

He buttoned his shirt as he walked, checking to make sure he had the buttons in their proper holes. Wouldn’t do to let anyone think he was distracted.

What the. . .

Jed stopped next to the huge hand-shaped cactus. The four yellow blooms were still as vibrant as ever, but now, the fourth ‘finger’ was pushing a bloom out as well. It was still small compared to the others, but it stood out for no other reason than it wasn’t yellow like the others, but red.

By the time he made it back to the house, Lucy was dressed and waiting at the barn door. Her green silk dress was slightly wrinkled, but she still looked beautiful in it. Her face glowed from its fresh scrubbing, and her glossy black hair fell loosely around her shoulders.

It was the way he liked it best. Not very sensible to leave it down like that, but damn if it didn’t make him want to slide his hands through it silkiness and –

He squeezed his eyes shut, swallowed back several curses, then forced himself to look back at her.

“Decided against the blanket did ya?”

“Yes,” she answered with a cheeky smile. “I save that particular look just for you, dear husband. Aren’t you lucky?”

He deposited his dirty clothes just inside the door, then swept a soft kiss against her cheek.

“Luckiest damn fool in the world.” He shot her a wink, then added, “Give me a second.”

His knock on the cabin door was answered immediately.

“Lucy and I have to go in to town,” he told Berta. “I don’t figure Maggie will want to come with us, but if there’s anything you think we need--”

Berta murmured her answer, then closed the door. Jed hesitated a moment before returning to Lucy. He lifted her up into the wagon, then climbed up beside her, suddenly feeling like he was, truly, the luckiest man God ever saw fit to put on the earth. And yet, at the same time, the most pathetic man ever.