White Deception

by Susan Edwards

  Empty? Yes. The piece of jewelry she’d described to Reed had come from the woman who held his heart. That shouldn’t hurt, but it did.

  “Right. I should just leave you right now.” Reed’s voice was a challenge, pulling Mattie back to the struggle between them: his desire to control her, her need to get her family back together.

  She pressed her lips tightly together. She hated the fact that she couldn’t manage on her own, but faced with a disagreeable man who didn’t believe in the gifts of their heritage or a mother-in-law who hated everything about her Indian birthright, Mattie was willing to pick the lesser of two unpleasantries.

  She slowed her horse to a walk. “So, you do not believe in visions. Have you no tribe?”

  Reed snorted. “I told you. I know nothing of my father or his family. Or of his life.”

  “Yet you have made no effort to learn about your heritage. Have you not sought to be adopted into a tribe of your choosing?”

  Reed was silent. “Why should I have done that? If the whites don’t accept me, why should Indians?”

  “Because we don’t see blood. We see what is inside a man. Honor is more important than the color of their skin.”

  Reed snorted. “Right.”

  Mattie tipped her head to one side. “You’ve been hurt.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Reed said shortly. “The past is passed.”

  “Yet you are here because of the past.” Mattie stopped her horse and waited.

  “What makes you think that, Mrs. O’Leary?” He sounded bored. Or tried to.

  Mattie smiled. “Did you know you call me by my married name only when you seek to put distance between us?”

  “That does not answer my question, Mrs.—Mattie.”

  Stroking Raven’s neck, Mattie softly clucked. She heard Reed’s horse follow hers. “I may not have the use of my eyes, but my hearing is sharp. I listen—not just to words, but how the words are said.” Tones, inflections. She thought of the schoolmarm and Mr. Potts, of other things she’d discerned. “Often what is not said is the true message behind words.”

  Reed remained silent. Mattie sighed. “It was clear that Sheriff Tyler trusted you from the beginning. He left me with you. He ordered you to stay and brought you to the Jensens’.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Reed said.

  Mattie heard the scowl in his voice. “It says it all. Tyler is very protective of all of us. Someone shot at me. You’re a stranger in town. Why would he not suspect you?”

  “He’s a damn fool,” Reed bit out.

  Mattie laughed. “Sheriff Tyler is many things, but—”

  “Yeah, I know. He’s no fool.” Reed’s tone indicated he begrudgingly agreed.

  “Then you do know each other. You’re not just passing through.” The air was turning moist. A single drop of moisture landed on her cheek, and she shivered. She lifted her head to the wind. In the distance she heard cattle. They were nearly to Paddy’s.

  “We’ve met,” Reed muttered.

  Nodding in satisfaction, Mattie relaxed her hold on Raven. “You have a reason for being here, Reed. One that is somehow connected to us. I’ve heard—”

  “That’s a lot of hearing you’ve been doing, Mrs.—”

  Mattie gave a soft laugh. “You’d be surprised at what I know. People assume that because you can’t see, you also can’t hear. How wrong they are.”

  “I’ll remember that,” Reed grunted. He fell silent.

  “You do not ask how I know I’m right.” Mattie didn’t wait for his reply. “Actually, with that, it’s not so much what I heard but what I’ve seen.”

  Reed gave a snort of disbelief. “Nice try, Mattie. But I only believe what I see. Or what it’s possible to see.”

  Reed’s attitude didn’t upset Mattie. He would believe eventually. Everyone did.

  “You showed up the same day my visions returned.” She turned her head toward him, called to her mind’s eye the blue of his irises. She lost herself in them. “Never before have I been able to call a vision to me. Yet, with you, I can do so with ease. I see the blue of your eyes and feel your warmth.”

  “How about we don’t talk about this nonsense,” Reed suggested. “In fact, let’s just turn around and get back to the house before the storm hits.”

  Mattie felt the difference in the ground: pasture had given way to the hard-packed earth of the O’Learys’ yard as the path between the two properties ended.

  They were to the left of the barn. Below her, Mattie heard the squawk of a chicken. She stopped. “We are already caught up in its eye,” she whispered.

  “Darkness surrounds you as well,” she continued after a moment. “I feel the gathering of hate. Tell me, Reed. Is it within you, or does it follow you?” As soon as she put into words what she’d felt, she knew she was right.

  The darkness of hate, the warmth and beauty of Reed—the visions were connected. She’d thought she was seeing only blue when she called her visions of Reed to her, but the darkness that she’d assumed was her normal sight was actually another force surrounding Reed.

  Good and bad. Beauty and hideousness. Love and hate. Where there was one emotion, the other was not far away. A thread of unease slid through her. If only she had use of her eyesight. But she didn’t, so she would have to use whatever resources she had available—including Reed—and that meant learning why he was here.

  “So…” He broke into her thoughts. “Can you see me?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “Maybe. Maybe I’m curious about what you know.” Reed reached out and smoothed back a strand of hair caught in the corner of her mouth. She felt him move closer. “You said you saw me. Felt warmth. What does that mean?” Mattie heard the doubt mingling with curiosity in his voice.

  She turned her head, calling his image to her. A ribbon of blue swirled before her eyes. She knew right where he was. Not only did she see the blue of his irises, but she felt the warmth of his presence.

  “Safe,” she said. “I felt safe when I first saw you. Protected.” She left out the most important emotion.

  Loved.

  She’d felt warm, safe and loved during that first brief vision of him, that vision when she’d felt his arms around her.

  Hearing a door from the O’Leary house slam, Mattie nudged her horse forward. If Reed didn’t believe her, then that was his problem.

  * * *

  Matilda O’Leary. She unnerved him, downright scared the pants off him, and intrigued the hell out of him. And when fired with the wild passion of her beliefs, she drew him as no other woman ever had.

  Reed dismounted and went to help Mattie down, but Gil had come out of the barn and was already helping her. A surge of jealousy ripped through Reed. He joined them, deliberately standing close to Mattie, invading the man’s space.

  “What are you doing here, Mattie? Is something wrong?” Gil asked. His eyes narrowed on Reed. “Something wrong?”

  Mattie reached out. Gil took her hand. “Gil, where is your father? I need to see him. Right away. Renny and the others left, but I need them back here. My visions warn of danger. If you and your father leave right away, you should be able to catch up with them by nightfall.”

  Hearing the distress in Mattie’s voice made Reed want to pull her into the safety of his arms.

  Safety?

  He suddenly felt ill. He hadn’t been able to protect Anne, couldn’t stop his in-laws from taking his children from him, so how could this woman who knew nothing about him feel safe around him? And why was he trying to protect her? Damn Tyler! Of all men, he knew Reed and Reed’s past. What would Mattie say when she learned that he was responsible for the deaths of her parents? She couldn’t already know.

  Her rejection, the horror that would surely appear in he
r beautiful eyes, nearly brought him to his knees. But her quietly stated confidence made him determined to right those wrongs. No one else would die from his stupidity. He’d give his life to protect her and hers. And when the time came, he’d accept her hate as part of his punishment.

  “I can’t get him,” Gil replied. “Pa went out. Said he was going to see Mr. Brown about a new bull.”

  “Guess that’s that, Mattie. Let’s go.” Reed turned and saw the girl named Brenna standing behind him.

  She stepped forward, into their group. “Momma’s fit to be tied, Gil. People are going to talk.” She walked around her brother, Reed and Mattie as if strolling casually through a garden.

  Gil glared at his sister. “Shut it, Bree. This is none of no one’s business but our own.”

  Brenna shrugged and clasped her hands behind her back. She sent Reed a sly look beneath her lashes. “Renny and Matthew are going to be gone how long? A week, maybe two?”

  Gil stared over her shoulder. “I trust Mattie,” he muttered.

  Reed narrowed his gaze. Last night, Brenna had been so quiet, seemed a mouse among the hot-tempered lions. Now he saw that assumption was wrong. “What do you suggest, Miss O’Leary? Your sister-in-law cannot stay with your family. It’d put you all in danger.”

  Gil shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I’m good with a rifle,” he argued.

  “Not as good as I am,” Brenna said, smiling broadly. She rubbed her nose against Raven’s.

  Mattie jumped in. “Yes, you always were the best shot of us all. Used to make your brothers mad.” She laughed.

  “Still do.” Brenna looked sad. “Although Collin hated it even more than Gilly.”

  Seeing the redness creeping into Gil’s face, Reed stepped in. “This is getting us nowhere. What do you want to do now, Mrs. O’Leary?” He deliberately used Mattie’s married name. There was no sense in aggravating either Brenna or Gil.

  “You can stay here if you want,” Gil offered.

  Reed narrowed his eyes. He was not going to let Mattie out of his sight. “If she stays, I stay.”

  Mattie shook her head. “No,” she said. “I won’t put you, your mother or Brenna in danger,” she decided at last.

  To Reed’s relief, she turned back to her horse. Before Gil could offer, he had his hands around her waist and had lifted her onto her horse.

  “They’ll be okay, Mattie,” Gil said. He sounded too cheerful.

  Nodding her head, Mattie swung her horse around and let her mount follow Reed. As soon as they were out of the yard, he dropped back. “Glad you’ve come to your senses,” he said.

  Mattie kicked Raven into a gallop. “They will be fine—because we’re going after them.”

  * * *

  Here he went again! Why he was surprised, he didn’t know. Had he really expected Mattie to meekly accept the fact that she was going to just have to wait for her brother and sister to return as planned?

  Yes, he thought as he urged his horse faster. He’d actually figured that Mattie would finally act sensibly. Yet here she was, riding like the hounds of hell were at her heels.

  The damn woman was blind—why didn’t she act like it!

  A lone oak rose up in her path. He sucked in a breath. “Tree in front of you,” he shouted. No sooner had the words left his mouth than her horse veered. Instead of being relieved, Reed was furious.

  He rode up alongside her. “Slow down,” he ordered. “You’re not going anywhere.” His voice was firm, his decision final. He’d taken on the responsibility of protecting this woman, and he would. Even if it was from herself!

  As he’d commanded, Mattie halted her horse—but without warning.

  Reed cursed the air blue as his horse nearly plowed into hers. He leaned forward, dug his fingers into the mane of his steed and fought to keep his seat. But the horse, unnerved by the tide of high emotion, refused to calm. The chestnut gelding pawed the air, then twisted, throwing Reed.

  Reed expected to hit the ground flat on his back. Instead, he landed against something incredibly soft. And moving.

  Stunned and confused, he struggled. “Hold still,” Mattie’s soft voice ordered.

  Astonished, he realized he’d landed on Mattie’s horse. Right across her lap! She’d reacted quickly, wrapping her arms around him to keep him from tumbling off.

  The soft croon of foreign words washed over him. He didn’t understand the softly spoken phrases, but whatever she was saying seemed to be calming her horse. He remained still, not wanting to risk having her mount panic and send them both flying.

  Glancing around, Reed saw his horse bolting for home. Or at least what was his temporary home. “See if he gets any oats tonight,” he grumbled.

  “It’s not his fault,” Mattie chided. She expertly brought her animal to a halt.

  “No, it’s yours,” Reed blurted. He tried to sit up straight. How was he supposed to take this woman to task when he was all but cuddled in her arms? Her soft, gentle, yet strong arms. When her horse shifted nervously, he stilled.

  A soft laugh came from above his head. He felt her breath, breathed in her sweet scent. “Which of us has eyes that see?” she mocked.

  “That was a damn foolish stunt. We both could have been hurt,” he snapped. He wasn’t sure he liked their positions. She was supposed to be in his arms. Though, he had to admit he liked the feel of her arms around him.

  Fool, a small voice in his head taunted. You don’t just like this. You’re in heaven. Shut up and enjoy it.

  He did. He felt the softness of her breasts, saw every inch of her face as she stared down at him: the tiny mole on the side of her neck, the strong line of her jaw, the soft curve of her face, the gentle slant of her nose, the rich, smooth fullness of her lips.

  His heart nearly stopped as he stared at her mouth—a mouth just made for kissing. His mouth went dry and he lifted his gaze to her eyes. In a million years he’d never have believed her blind, for the intensity of her eyes boring into his surely saw all the emotions not only on his face but those hidden deep inside him.

  “Mattie—”

  “Shush, Reed,” she ordered softly. “I want to see you. Please?”

  Reed swallowed hard. What was he supposed to say to that? “Uh, Mattie, I wish you could, but I’m no miracle worker. You’re the one with the visions.”

  Visions? Yeah, right. But he really did want Mattie to be able to see him.

  “You are handsome?”

  That made him feel awkward. “Well…never heard no one complain about looking at me.”

  “Your hair?”

  “Black.” His eyes closed on a sigh as he felt her fingers comb through his hair.

  “Curly. Soft.” She bent forward. “And clean. Fresh.”

  Reed rolled his eyes. “I do bathe. Daily even.” Damn, he was out of his element! What was a man to do or say when a woman talked this way?

  Humor edged Mattie’s voice. “You’d be surprised how many do not even keep their hair clean.” Her fingers trailed down the side of his face to his shoulders. “I know you’re tall. I saw you—in that first vision. And you’re strong. I feel your strength.” Her hands were sliding across his shoulders.

  Reed felt as though his entire body had turned to butter. At this rate he’d slide off the horse into a puddle on the ground. “Think we’d better get back to the house. It’s too open here. We’re sitting ducks.”

  He had only a knife tucked into his boot. He tried to move, to jump off and lead her horse home, but that made him nearly snort with laughter. The woman didn’t need leading. He was just now realizing just how capable she was.

  “Wait.” Her hands gripped his shoulder. “I need to see…” Her hands lifted slowly and traveled up the column of his neck, cupped his jaw in her palms, her fingers lightly resting behind hi
s ears.

  He covered her hands with his own. “Mattie.” Her name was torn from him. It’d been a long time since he’d reacted to the touch of a woman. Not since Anne. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to pay for pleasure since her murder. His abstinence was just one more way he punished himself.

  Yet in Mattie’s arms, he felt rising from his prison deep inside him the shadow of the man he’d once been. He fought the return of that part of him. He had a job to do. A past to atone for. A murderer to catch.

  “Please?” Mattie sounded hesitant. Vulnerable.

  He stared into her face. Her full mouth was slightly parted, her dark lashes sweeping the softness of her cheeks. The wind billowed through her long hair, curtaining him and her in their own private world.

  He reached up and ran his fingers through that black silk. “How can you see me?” His voice turned to a hoarse croak as she touched his face.

  “Like this.” Her fingers traveled up his jaw, feeling every inch of him. Her touch was soft as a feather, and incredibly sensuous. He fought a shudder of desire as she traced his mouth with her fingertips. His lips came apart on a sigh.

  “Mattie,” he whispered.

  “Shhh,” she responded. Her finger trailed down the straight line of his nose, over his cheeks and forehead. He watched her lashes flutter closed, her head fall back and her brow crease in concentration.

  Reed couldn’t resist. Taking his hands, he lifted them to her jaw and cupped her chin. Her eyes flew open. “I want to touch you, too,” he said. “To learn the feel of you.” He held her gaze—rather, she held his as his fingers slid up and over her smooth, honeyed skin.

  “To see you as you see me,” he continued.

  Reed had never experienced anything so erotic in his life. His blood stirred, his body hummed with need. But it wasn’t just sexual release he sought. He needed the gentle touch, the sweet smile, the soft, dreamy glow—all that was Mattie at her best.

  Her finger slid over his eyelids. “Then close your eyes. And see.”

  Reed did as ordered. He closed his eyes and forgot about everything but the feel of her beneath his fingers.