The Devil's Daughter (29 page)

“I’ve made a horrible mess.” She circled around the rock, keeping one step ahead of him.

Jed shrugged. “So we’ll clean it up later.”

“N-no,” she stammered. “We can’t. I need to fix it right now.”

She stopped moving and stood facing him. Something wasn’t right, something was obviously upsetting her, but if she’d only let him, he could make her forget her worries. He would take care of her.

He closed the distance between them, ready to take her in his arms.

“I’ve put you in terrible danger.” Incredible anguish, plus a shot of relief, filled her voice. “And Maggie, too.”

Jed stopped cold. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she went on, her words tumbling faster and faster. “When I first came here, to you, I didn’t know you, I didn’t know Maggie, and I certainly didn’t know myself.”

“What are you talking about?” Jed stumbled slightly. Unease gurgled through his stomach.

Lucy took half a step toward him, then stopped. “I didn’t come here to be your wife.” Her words hung in the air between them. “I came here to save myself, and the only way to do that was to. . .”

She stopped, took a long breath, and stared at the toe of her boot. Fingers of ice crept up Jed’s spine; fear, confusion, and disbelief swirled in his blood.

“What have you done with Maggie?”

It took a long time for Lucy to look at him. Every passing second was another rip in his heart, every breath an agonizing chore.

 “Maggie’s fine. Berta is taking her to the preacher.”

“The preacher? What about Doc Billings. . .?” Jed frowned.

Lucy swallowed slowly. “The preacher’s the only hope her baby has.”

“What?” He stumbled back a step, reaching for the top rung of the corral.

“I came for the baby.” Lucy’s face had gone from pale to a sickly greenish color. Her mouth pinched against each word and thick tears flowed steadily down her cheeks.

“The baby?” Jed’s voice was drowned out by the sound of a wagon crashing down the road toward the ranch.

Maggie
.

“Caine!” Dwight’s terrified voice reached Jed’s ears before the wagon rounded the corner into the yard. “Caine!”

With a sideways glance at Lucy, he raced toward the wagon. The horses foamed at their mouths, their eyes wide with fear, but Dwight’s terror shadowed theirs. His arms shook, his breath came in shallow spurts, and his voice quaked uncontrollably.

“He took ‘em,” he said, looking left and right. “Took ‘em, I tell ya.”

“Who?” Jed reached for the bridle of the nearest horse, but it pulled away.

“M-Maggie,” Dwight stuttered. “And M-Miss Blake. He took ‘em.”

“Who took them?”

“And Maggie. . .” Dwight’s jittery gaze seemed to look everywhere at once, but seeing nothing. “Her baby. . .it’s comin’.”

“Dwight.” Jed shouted, bringing the other man’s eyes back into focus. “Who took them?”

“Never seen him b’fore,” Dwight answered. “But he’s like the devil, I tell ya.”

It felt as though an avalanche of rock had fallen inside Jed’s stomach. “Deacon.”

Lucy gasped behind him, then fell into deep gut-wrenching sobs.

“Where are they?” He had to yell it twice before Dwight answered.

“Couple m-miles back.” Dwight’s body shivered uncontrollably. “Th-that stable near Doc’s.”

“Take me.” Jed moved toward the wagon seat, but Dwight slapped the reins against the horses and they shot off in the opposite direction.

Gravel sputtered from beneath the wheels as he raced back toward the road.

“I ain’t goin’ back,” Dwight called over his shoulder. “He’s the devil, I tell ya.”

 “Dwight!”

But he was already gone, leaving behind a huge cloud of dust.

Without so much as a glance at Lucy, Jed raced toward the barn, pulling tack down as he moved.

“Jed,” Lucy’s sob followed him inside. “You can’t win against Deacon. I’ll go.”

His hands stilled against the saddle, as words dried on his tongue. Maggie had been right all this time, and he’d been too blind to see the truth.

He flipped down the stirrups, took up the reins and moved toward the door. He refused to look at her, refused to be taken in by the green of her eyes or the trembling of her lip.

“Why did he take them?” Lucy moved toward him, but he flinched and pushed past her. “Why?” he repeated as he hurled himself up into the saddle.

“He wants the baby’s soul.”

“He what?” Jed shook his head to settle the confusion.

He didn’t have time to think about it now. He didn’t have time to even try to understand what it meant – ‘he wants the baby’s soul.’ All Jed could think about – all he
must
think about – was Maggie and her baby. He’d deal with Lucy afterward.

Jed spurred the horse into a run and didn’t look back.

Jed was gone.

He knew the truth – at least the beginnings of it – and now would never look at her again. He would never touch her, never kiss her, and never again would he warm her with the heat from his smile or the burning desire in his dark beautiful eyes.

Lucy mopped her eyes and ran her arm under her nose. She’d never get Jed back; no human could forgive something like this. All she could do is focus on Maggie and the baby. If she was in labor already, then they were rapidly running out of time.

As she fought to think clearly, Lucy moved back inside the barn. She couldn’t stay there, doing nothing.

Jed’s anger and confusion would only add fuel to Deacon’s powers. The only hope Maggie and her baby had was with Lucy.

And the only hope Lucy had of making any of this right was to find the preacher.

The only horse in the barn, a huge black beast with white feet, snorted and side-stepped away when Lucy neared him. She reached for its bridle, but the horse jerked out of reach, then reared slightly.

Damned animal! Lucy didn’t have time to calm it; she needed to get to the preacher. She hurried from the stall and stood outside, calling on powers she hated.

Deacon could appear and disappear whenever he liked, and today, so would she. She closed her eyes and forced herself to concentrate on the small church she’d seen at the edge of town.

Nothing.

She tried again, and again, but nothing worked. She couldn’t even move herself across the yard.

Damn Deacon. And damn her father. This was their doing.

Lifting her skirt, she ran back inside the barn and jerked the stall door open. The huge horse backstepped again, nostrils flaring, eyes huge.

“I’m going to ride you,” Lucy stated. “Saddle or no, it’s going to happen.”

Before the animal could rear at her again, she grabbed its mane and jerked its head toward her own.

“I
will
ride you.”

The horse tried to pull out of her grasp, but Lucy yanked harder. With both hands now fisted in the thick mane, she led the animal closer to the stall gate. Using its rungs as a ladder, she scrambled up and threw her leg over the horse’s back.

“Run.”

It didn’t need to be told twice. With Lucy bent over its shoulders, the horse raced out of the barn toward the road, trying to get away from the thing that spooked it so badly. Lucy dug her knees into the horse’s sides, kept her hands fisted in its mane and her cheek pressed against its neck.

As they sped past the side road to Doc’s, Lucy didn’t dare look. She needed to focus on the preacher and how she was ever going to convince him to come with her.

 o0o

Jed reined in his horse and leapt from the saddle before it had even stopped. The animal reared back, snorted and ran back the way they’d come, but Jed charged forward.

“Get away from her!”

Maggie lay in the shade of the towering pecan tree, her face contorted in pain, her hair matted with dirt and sweat. Berta, who’d been hovering beside her, bounced up at the first sight of Jed. Deacon simply lounged against the side of the dilapidated open stable, petting his stupid weasel.

“Where’s Lucy?” Berta flung herself toward Jed, her face awash with guilt and fear.

She’d known.

She’d known, and he’d let her care for Maggie. Jed shrugged past her and headed straight for the tree.

“Maggie.” He knelt beside her, taking her hand in his and smoothing her hair back from her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“I told you,” she whispered weakly. “I told you they wanted my baby.”

“Hello, Jedidiah.” Deacon sneered over the rodent’s head. “So good to see you again.”Jed lunged at him, but caught empty air. Deacon now stood on the other side of the stable, at least three feet away, completely unaffected by Jed’s attack.

“Tut, tut. Such violent behavior.”

“Son of a bitch,” Jed growled. “I swear to God--”

Deacon’s laughter was like ice through his veins.

“Your god does not frighten me, human.” Even as he spoke, fear flicked across his face, then vanished. “You can’t save them, no matter what Lucille might have told you.”

Maggie whimpered softly behind him.

Jed twisted between Maggie and Deacon, trying to keep Berta in his sights, too.

“What do you want?” he asked, fighting to keep his voice calm.

“Surely Lucille has explained all that by now.” Deacon lifted his bowler hat from his head, brushed a glove over it, and set it back in place. “I’m here for the child”

Maggie cried out, and Berta was right there to comfort her.

“It’s okay now, Maggie,” she said softly. “Jedidiah won’t let anything happen to you or your baby.”

Deacon tipped his head toward the women. “Miss Blake is mistaken. Jedidiah can no sooner prevent this from happening as he can prevent the sun from rising.”

“Shut the hell up.” Jed’s voice was dangerously low.

“Can’t do that,” Deacon said plainly. “Hell is wide open and waiting.”

A door slammed shut in Jed’s brain. No. It couldn’t be. There wasn’t really fire in Deacon’s eyes; it had to be a reflection – except there was no fire. The sun maybe. . .?

Jed didn’t know where to look, so he continued to shift his gaze between everyone.

“What did your wife tell you?” Deacon asked. He looked so calm, so cool, that it was all Jed could do not to lunge at him again.

“That’s none of your business,” he ground out.

“Actually, it is,” Deacon countered. “It’s a family business.” Very slowly, he stepped out from behind the railing and began to walk in wide circles around the tree.

An overwhelming sense of dread filled Jed, begging him to shut his ears to everything Deacon said, to shut his heart to everything Lucy hadn’t said.

And she obviously hadn’t said a helluva lot.

Deacon clicked his tongue in disgust. “Your wife is not who you think she is.”

Jed reached for the closest post for support. “Who. . .?” He didn’t want to know. He didn’t. Lucy was his wife and that’s all that mattered. She’d put them all in some sort of danger, but Jed would fix it.

Deacon came around the back of the tree, then paused close to Berta’s back. “Lucille’s mother is this wretched creature you’ve kept as a guest, the one who offered to help you.” He rolled his eyes and snorted softly. “But she was of no help to you, human.”

Jed stood in the blasting heat of the sun, but it was a cold sweat that trickled down his neck.

“Did Lucille ever tell you about our father?”

“Deacon, no.” Berta reached a hand toward him, as though she could stop his words with a simple gesture, but the look Deacon shot her momentarily froze her in mid-movement.

Jed released a breath. “A little.”

“A little,” Deacon repeated over a snort. He crossed his arms over his chest and tsked. “Did that ‘little’ include the fact he’s Satan?”

“Who?” No.
No!
Fire burned Jed’s throat. A vise gripped his lungs, making breathing near to impossible.

Satan? The
devil
? As in--

“Lucifer.” The word slipped from his tongue and he watched in horror as Berta shuddered at its sound.

Lucy Firr.

 o0o

Lucy stood at the bottom of the steps and stared up at the church door. Reverend Conroy was their only hope. She had to go inside, consequences be damned.

The small chapel was a place of hope, a place where humans gathered to find comfort and peace from life’s torment. It was too much to hope she’d find any peace inside, but she wasn’t asking for herself, she was asking for Maggie. And for Maggie’s baby.

“Stay here,” she spoke low, hoping against hope the horse would do as instructed. Without another thought, Lucy hurried up the steps and pushed open the door. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust, fought past the tightness in her chest, and stepped toward the man hunched over the pulpit.