The Devil's Daughter (23 page)

Not too long ago, he could have lived with that. But now he wanted more. He wanted the whole deal: a wife who wanted his touch, who respected him, and who loved him.

That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

“Hullo in the house!”

Jed sat bolt upright in bed. What the. . .?

Lucy stretched beside him, her eyes opening slowly.

“Caine – you in there?” The gravelly old voice bellowed again from outside.

“Oh, shit.” Jed tried to step off the bed, got tangled in his towel and the corner of Lucy’s blanket, and went down hard on his face.

“What’s going on?” Lucy rolled over and laughed. “Oh my.”

“Caine!”

“Yeah,” Jed called back, struggling to get to his feet. “Be out in a second.”

Of all the days to oversleep.

“Who’s out there?” Lucy asked, still laughing. “You really should get dressed before you go out.”

Jed twisted in circles looking for something to put on. Nothing. His wet trousers were still hanging on the nail and every other stitch of clothing he owned was outside, some draped by the fire, some scattered in the dirt.

Shit
.

“Gimme the blanket.”

“Oh no,” Lucy said, gathering it up and scurrying to the far corner of the bed.

“Everything I own is wet or outside in the dirt,” he made to grab for the blanket, but she ducked out of the way.

“You’re a big strong man.” Lines crinkled around her eyes and though she appeared to try and hold it, she was soon laughing all over again. “You’ll survive.”

Jed stood straight in front of her, stark naked, and hard with need already. “It’ll be embarrassing for both of us if I have to go out there like this.”

Lucy’s gaze raked the length of him, her eyes widening at the exact length of him. She sputtered a few times, then nearly fell off the bed in her haste to hand over the blanket.

He took a minute to admire her in her new gown. Even wrinkled, it looked better on her this morning than it had last night. In fact, if Charlie’s man, Dwight, wasn’t waiting outside with his load of lumber, he’d take more than a minute to admire her. Hell, he’d take his own sweet time in. . .

“Caine!”

“Thank you.” He shot her a quick wink and ducked out the door. He’d never live this down with Dwight – or Charlie - but there was nothing worse than wet clothes. Dirty ones he could deal with – as soon as he gathered them all up again.

“’Mornin’, Dwight.” He walked barefoot through the yard to face the man, only to have his embarrassment double.

Berta stood by the fire, staring open-mouthed.

“Berta,” he stammered. “I wasn’t expecting you out here so early.”

Dwight’s laughter split the air between them. “We can see that, Caine. Don’t look like you was expectin’ anyone.”

He couldn’t stop the heat that raced over his cheeks, so he shrugged and tried to laugh it off.

“Seems we overslept,” he said.

“Overslept,” Dwight repeated, glancing from one piece of strewn laundry to the next. “Right.”

“Sorry,” Jed said to Berta, who’d finally turned her face away, then grinned back at Dwight. “Could you pull it over by the lean-to there? I’ll go find some clothes and be back in a minute.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, just scrambled to pick up his scattered clothes, gave them a hard shake, then raced back inside the barn. Lucy had just slipped her blue day dress over her head when he walked in.

He almost wished he was buttoned into his trousers – at least then his desire wouldn’t be so damned obvious.

“Lumber’s here,” he said when he’d found his voice again. “Here, let me help.”

He covered her hands with his until she released the buttons on the back of her dress and let him take over. The blanket pooled at his feet, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t help himself. Every time his fingers brushed against her back, Lucy shivered. And so did he.

Every time she took a breath, it shook on release.

“There,” he murmured. “All done.”

“Thank you.” She kept her face averted and set to work on tying back her hair.

Jed inhaled deeply, then hurried into his dirty smelly clothes.

“Lucy.”

She’d finished with her hair and was busying herself with her boots. She hesitated when he spoke, but finally turned to face him.

“I just, uh--” Ah, hell. He took her in his arms and kissed her, over and over again until she relaxed. Her lips moved against his, searching for everything his did, her fingers weaving through his hair until he moaned against her.

She smiled against his mouth and leaned into him.

“Find this funny, do you?” He smiled back, his mouth still pressed against hers.

Lucy shrugged slightly and kissed him again.

“Oh, God.” He groaned again. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry.” Her whisper brushed over his skin.

“I’m not,” he whispered back. He kissed her cheek, her eyes, and the tip of her nose. There were so many other places he wanted to kiss, to taste. Like that spot right under her ear, and that tiny hollow at the base of her neck. And that valley between her breasts, and --

“I better go.” After one more kiss, of course.

Lucy cupped the side of his face in her hand and let his kiss linger before she lowered her hand and released him.

“That’s a nice way to start the day,” she sighed.

Jed laughed and stepped back toward the door. “That part, sure. The part where I fell out of bed stark-naked and then ran outside wrapped in a blanket. . .” He rolled his eyes. “Not so nice.”

Lucy laughed softly. “I enjoyed it.”

“Is that right?” He moved back to her and yanked her against him. “Let me show you what I’d enjoy.”

She pushed against his chest, laughing all the while. It was a soft, feminine sound that made him want to forget all about Dwight and the load of lumber.

And Berta.

Dammit. Of all the bad luck.

But he had to have one more taste. Just one. Maybe two.

Lucy met his kiss with waiting open lips and a sigh. If he didn’t get out of the barn right then. . .

“I’m really leaving now,” he muttered.

“Then why are you still here?” She kissed his chin, his jaw line, then his Adam’s apple. Desire ripped through him hotter and faster than ever.

“I’m not,” he answered. “I’m gone.”

“Hmmm.” She kissed his earlobe, then his neck – in that same spot he wanted to kiss her. “Bye, then.”

“Yeah.” He yanked the pins from her hair and filled both hands with its length. God but he loved her hair. “See ya later.”

“Mm-hmm.” She found his mouth again, her lips pressing softly against his, her tongue dancing with his.

“Caine!”

Lucy’s lips froze against his, then curled into another smile.

“Dammit.” Jed sighed. Maybe later, they could. . .no, they couldn’t. Not yet.

He leaned in for one last kiss, then jerked the door open. Before he could leave, though, Lucy touched his arm, bringing him to a dead halt.

“Thank you, Jed.” She almost looked embarrassed, but Jed would have none of that.

“Hold the thanks ‘til I’ve done something you’ll be truly thankful for.” He wiggled his brow at her. “And believe me, the things I have planned for you--”

“Come on, Caine, I ain’t got all day.”

He blew her another final kiss and ran outside. It was going to be a long miserable day unloading that lumber and getting the barn going.

The only saving grace was knowing Lucy would be by his side tonight again. That thought alone was enough to get a man though hell and back.

 o0o

Tremors continued to rock Lucy after Jed disappeared outside. How could something feel so wonderful when she knew it was so wrong? So horribly, horribly wrong.

Her fingers trembled against her lips where Jed had kissed her only moments before. For a man who claimed to be so practical and sensible, he certainly knew how to leave a girl out of sorts.

A smile eased up beneath her fingers. Last night had been amazing. From what she knew of human men, they weren’t apt to get that close to bedding a woman, then have to stop. But that’s what Jed had done for her.

Could it be that he really did love her? It had to be more than lust, that was for certain, otherwise, he would have insisted she lay with him.

Instead, he’d tucked in behind her and held her all night. It was definitely a feeling she could get used to. One she’d like to get used to.

If only there were a way. . .

“Too much.” Berta smiled her nervous little smile and took the spoon away from Lucy - again.

“But it’s not completely mixed.”

“I know,” she answered patiently. “With biscuits, you only want to stir enough so the ingredients are slightly mixed, and no more than that. Otherwise, you’ll end up with rocks.”

“Again.”

Berta coughed over a laugh, but her eyes never met Lucy’s. They’d moved the table outside and had been mixing, folding and stirring for almost an hour while Maggie slept, yet Berta had not once looked directly at Lucy, at least not when she thought Lucy would notice.

“Why don’t you go stir the stew and I’ll take care of the biscuits for now?” She handed Lucy a large spoon and practically shooed her toward the fire. “You can try this again tomorrow.”

Lucy shrugged and did as she was directed. For the first time in weeks, she and Jed were going to eat something other than beans – she’d lick Berta’s boots if that’s what the woman told her to do.

Jed walked around the freshly stacked lumber just as Lucy reached the fire.

“Is that. . .no.” He stepped closer, his nose lifted to the wind. “Miss Blake’s stew?”

Lucy forced a hurt look. “You don’t think it smells better than my beans, do you?”

“I. . .uh. . .well--”

“No lying, remember?”

A guilty smile played across Jed’s face. “Okay, well, then how about this - it smells
different
from your beans.”

“Excellent answer, husband.” She pointed the spoon at him and grinned. “I suppose I should warn you that she’s been trying to teach me how to make biscuits.”

Jed tipped his head to the right. “What do you mean ‘trying’?”

“Apparently, among my other cooking faults, I don’t stir properly.” She whipped the spoon around the stew for good measure. “Imagine my surprise.”

“I dunno about that.” He sidled up beside her until their hips pressed together. With a quick glance in Berta’s direction, he tipped his head closer to Lucy and whispered, “You stir me up pretty good.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Not even a little bit funny, Jed.”

“Sure it was.” He winked and shrugged. “True, too.”

She snuggled against him until he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“She always looks at me with such an odd expression.” Lucy frowned at the stew pot. “And she’s always so nervous.”

“Nervous?” He shook his head. “She seems okay to me.”

“Maybe,” Lucy mused. “But in all the time she’s been here, she won’t look at me. Most of the time, she won’t even talk to me.”

“Maybe she’s shy.”

Lucy quirked her brow. “Doubtful. You don’t think she believes what Maggie says about me, do you?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Maggie had held firm to her beliefs and steadfastly refused to set foot outside the house – at least not while Lucy was anywhere nearby.

Berta had forced her outside the day Lucy and Jed went into town, but Maggie refused to stay out long, in case Lucy surprised them by coming back earlier than expected.

The closest Maggie would get to fresh air is sitting by the open window in the early morning and late evening when Lucy was still inside the barn. The second she stepped foot outside, Maggie returned to the farthest corner of the house and stayed there.

After downing two mugs of water, Jed kissed Lucy’s cheek and returned to his stack of lumber. It all needed to be sorted and divided into piles: one for the barn, one for the house, and the leftovers for the corrals. And Dwight still had at least two more loads to deliver.

“How’s the stew?” Berta’s voice startled Lucy.

“Good.” She watched the other woman for a minute, noting every time she flinched, twitched, or cast another nervous glace Lucy’s way.

She couldn’t stand it another minute.

“What’s wrong?” She stood over the fire, spoon in hand, watching Berta’s profile for any clue. “Have I done something?”

“No,” Berta hurried to answer. “You’ve done nothing to me.”

“Then what is it?”

Berta took a long moment to wipe her hands before she turned. When she finally faced Lucy, her eyes were red and swollen with unshed tears. Her chin trembled and she licked her lips several times.