Mara McBain

by McCade's Way

  “Thank you for coming for me,” she whispered.

  “You had a doubt?”

  “No,” she whispered, giggling when she realized it was true. “I knew you’d find me, even if it was to strangle me for leaving the yard.”

  Trey threw back his head and laughed. Gen snuggled closer. Damn but that was a beautiful sound. He gave a sharp whistle and then stooped to pick up his hat, still cradling her. She startled as a shape came hurtling out of the dark. Brutus spared a quick look at the fallen pig and then came over to press his cold nose to the back of her leg. Twisting, she tried to preserve a little modesty, tugging her skirt loose of her husband’s arm.

  “Where were you?” she asked, rubbing Brutus’s big head.

  “We already had a long talk about that while we were looking for you,” Trey said, giving the poor dog a hard look. Brutus hung his head. “Seems someone was out chasing God knows what, because he’s covered in burrs and mud.”

  “It’s not his fault.”

  “Why don’t you tell me whose fault it is?” he asked, setting her down as his horse materialized out of the gloom.

  Gen wrapped her arms tight, shivering at the loss of his heat. She jumped, covering her ears as Trey fired his gun in the air several times.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked shakily.

  “Letting Cole know I found you.”

  “Oh. How will he find us?”

  “He won’t. If I needed help, the number of shots and the intervals would’ve been different, and I’d have sent up a flare. He’ll head back to the house.”

  “You’ve thought a lot about this.”

  “My daddy put things in place when we were younger. It’s a big farm. You can’t just pick up a phone if you get in trouble,” Trey said with a wry grin as he knelt to gut the pig. “Are you going to answer my question?”

  Gen bit her lip. She still didn’t know what to do.

  “What question?”

  “Whose fault is it?”

  Her stomach clenched. She watched the big knife slice through the tough skin, and Trey carefully started to remove the pig’s insides. She turned away. Brutus followed her, and she picked at the burrs in his thick coat.

  “Gen?”

  “I guess you can’t blame anyone, but me,” she said softly.

  “Is that a fact?”

  She swallowed hard at his cold tone, but his next words sent a chill through her body.

  “You know, one thing I really can’t stomach, is a liar. Do you want to try that story for me again?”

  When she didn’t answer, he sighed and stood. She couldn’t take her eyes off the bloody knife as he approached her.

  “Let me start the story for you, Gen. You went outside to check on the calf. From there, the details are in question. I found your mitten in the barn, so you made it to the cow’s stall. What happened then?”

  “I—I just wanted to check on the little one,” she whispered, staring at the fingers of her bare hand.

  Trey wiped the knife off and put it away, pulling a piece of tarp from the saddle bag. His silence was as frightening as his growl. Gen wet her lips.

  “Wade came into the barn. He was still upset about me sticking my nose in his business with Lilly. I tri—tried to tell him that you’d pun—”Fear clogged her throat, and Gen shook her head helplessly for a moment.

  Trey regarded her steadily from where he was now rolling the hog in a tarp.

  “The deal with Lilly is over. You and I are squared away on that. If he had issues, Wade should’ve taken them up with me,” he said firmly. “What happened then?”

  The taste of copper crept over her tongue as she struggled against the words she didn’t want to say.

  “I hate liars, Gen. Spit it out. I won’t be angry with you for the truth.”

  Hands clasped in prayer, she forced her lips to move.

  “H—he pressed real close. I was up against the stall door. I was afraid,” she whispered, her gaze and voice dropping. “He wanted to watch you beat me. He said he would enjoy doing it, if you would let him. He reminded me of my father. He kept whispering things to me, and he was touching me. I just panicked. I had to get away. Somehow, I knocked him down and he hit his head. I was afraid of what would happen when he got up, so I ran.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks and she waited for his anger, for more questions, for whatever would happen next. He remained kneeling there for a long minute or so, his head down. She watched his hands flex in heavy leather gloves. Drawing a deep breath, he stood. She searched his face. It was impassive, but his eyes sent a chill down her spine.

  He lifted the carcass, his muscles bulging even under the cover of his thick coat. The horse skittered nervously as Trey carefully situated the boar behind the saddle. Surprisingly, his deep voice was soft and soothing as he calmed the animal. Holding the reins, he turned to her and held his hand out. She hesitated.

  “Bowie won’t carry both of us and the boar.”

  Gen looked at the big dapple grey and shook her head, stepping back.

  “Please. I’d rather walk with you.”

  Her husband’s stern face softened a bit.

  “Are you afraid of horses?”

  “I’m not afraid of them as long as I’m not on them,” she whispered. “I think they’re beautiful and noble animals, but they don’t like me on their backs.”

  “If I put you up there, darlin', Bowie will do everything in his power to keep you there. You have to trust me. He’s a good mount. I brought him all the way back from Texas with me.”

  Genevieve smiled. She loved Trey’s loyalty. It was one of her husband’s finest traits.

  “I trust you,” she whispered, putting her hand in his.

  He smiled back, his eyes warming slightly in the moonlight. Boosting her easily to the saddle, he shortened the stirrups for her and made sure she was comfortable. Patting her hands, he urged her to relax her grip on the saddle horn. He reached into his pocket and produced her missing mitten. He winked at her delighted gasp and smile. Letting her wiggle her cold fingers into the warm flannel, he picked up the reins and started for home.

  Back in front of the barn, Gen was stiff as he hauled her down off the big stallion’s back. She stumbled against him, her legs unsteady after sitting in the saddle. He held her, rubbing softly on her back, and keeping a rigid check on his temper. She’d been raised in a household where fists and leather flew easier than love and laughter. Given both Gen’s fears, and what he knew of her father, it wasn’t likely her mother had been spared the man’s brand of heavy-handed discipline. She had no way of knowing anything different. He shrugged. Same as he only knew the way things had been in the McCade household. It was going to take some time, but he’d teach her the McCade way.

  She sat silent on a straw bale as he took care of Bowie and strung the boar up. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, wondering what she was thinking. Rubbing her arms, her lips moved, but he couldn’t hear the words. He frowned.

  “I’m almost done here, darlin', and then you can take a hot soak and warm up.”

  Her gaze jerked to him, eyes wide. She shook her head.

  “You have to be starving,” she whispered.

  “We’ll get to that soon enough. For now, you need to get cleaned up and thawed out.”

  A few minutes later, he guided her through the back door, his hand resting on the small of her back. The surprising smell of hot oil and frying chicken greeted them, making his mouth water. Heat blanketed the house, and he curled his hands, trying to lose the pins and needles feeling that had crept into his fingers. Cole turned from the stove with a smile and pulled a startled Gen into a hug.

  “I’m glad you’re okay, little sister.”

  Trey raised a brow in question over his wife’s head, and his brother indicated the living room with a tilt of his head.

  Returning the hug, Gen stepped back, misery haunting her beautiful silver stare as she shook her head, trembling fingers covering her mouth.<
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  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her tortured gaze sliding from one man to the other. She reached for the tongs in Cole’s hand. “Please. I’ll…” Her words faltered, hand falling away as his uncle’s shadow fell across the opposite doorway.

  Trey laid his hands on her shoulders as she backed into him. His thumb brushed across her nape.

  “Thank God you’re back safe,” Wade said, a smile that never reached his eyes curving his thin lips. “You have no idea how upset Trey was to come home and find you missing.”

  Gen’s back pressed tighter to him. She was shaking. A low growl rumbled through the kitchen, and it took the frightened dart of his wife’s gaze to let Trey know he was responsible for the noise. Cole’s arms opened without a word, and Trey nudged his wife out of the way to lunge at Wade.

  The solid post at the base of the stairs shuddered as he drove his uncle into it with his broad shoulder. Picking him up by the throat, Trey shook him like a rag doll. Umbrellas, canes, and walking sticks scattered as Wade crashed into the old butter churn crock that sat next to the front door. He barely had time to roll over before Trey buried the toe of his boot in his gut, lifting Wade clear of the floor. A roar ripped from his throat as he stomped the son-of-a-bitch. He wanted to kill him.

  The thought sobered him like a bucket of ice water. Stumbling back, he swiped a hand over his goatee, hand shaking at the rage and adrenalin pumping through his body. With his size he was no stranger to fights, but he’d rarely been the aggressor. His goal had always been to finish things as quickly as possible, with just enough force to win and convince the other guy not to come back. Tonight, he wanted to maim and it was a sickening feeling.

  Wade coughed, rolling over on his stomach and pulling his knees up under him. One arm cradled his ribs as he tried to push himself up from the floor.

  “I don’t know what she told you, but we can talk—”

  Lips drawn back in a snarl, Trey brought the heel of his cowboy boot down on Wade’s splayed hand with everything he had. Wade’s piercing scream cut through the house.

  “No more talk. It’s simple. Don’t ever touch what’s mine again,” Trey ground out.

  Wade twisted in agony, clutching his shattered hand to his chest. Rose crouched in the corner, her round face pale in terror. Pinning her under his heavy glare, Trey fought to push civil words past his tongue.

  “You know what kind of man you’re married to. You can go with your husband, or you and Lilly can stay here. It’s your choice. Make it,” he said and turned to the kitchen. “Get him the hell out of my house. Throw him in the back of the truck. I’ll have his things ready in a few minutes. I want you to take him into town. If he doesn’t have enough cash for a hotel room, pay for one night. That is the end of our concern,” he ordered, taking his trembling wife from the haven of his brother’s embrace.

  Sweeping Gen up into his arms, he climbed the stairs without a backward glance.

  Perched on the toilet lid, Genevieve fought to still the traitorous shake of her body. Trey knelt beside the tub, swirling his huge hand in the hot water to stir in the bubble bath. The same hand had closed around Wade’s throat and lifted him in the air with the ease of a doll. She tried not to look at the boots in front of her. Don’t ever touch what’s mine again. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. She’d heard the crunch of bone when Trey had purposely stomped Wade’s hand under his boot. How could that be the same man that had carried her upstairs in his arms and was now drawing her bath?

  His hands had been so gentle in the kitchen, and then he’d exploded. She rubbed at her arms. If she was honest, she’d known it was coming. She’d seen him fighting his anger bent over the fallen boar, had felt the tension humming through him as he’d helped her from the horse and held her. Why had he been holding back? She jumped as his hand landed on her knee.

  “Come on, darlin'. Let’s get your clothes off. You’ll feel a lot better after a soak,” he said softly.

  His hands were gentle as he helped her undress. She shivered as the back of his fingers brushed over the swell of her breasts much like Wade’s had in the barn. The thought of that man touching her made her long for the bath. Don’t ever touch what’s mine again. Trey’s words echoed in her mind. There had been such rage behind the words, and he didn’t even know about Catherine. She bit her lip. That jealous, possessive rage had been unleashed for her. The thought was humbling, frightening, but still sent a tiny thrill through her. She felt a blush creeping up her neck.

  He picked her up and slowly eased her down into the hot water, stopping whenever she gasped before lowering her a bit more. His strength never failed to amaze her. She looked up as he placed a sweet kiss on top of her head.

  “Take your time. I have some things to take care of and then we’ll eat when you’re done.”

  She watched him walk to the door, rolling his shirt sleeves back down his powerful forearms.

  “Trey?”

  He turned at his name. She hesitated, self-conscious under his scrutiny.

  “Thank you.”

  His head cocked to the side in puzzlement.

  “For what?”

  “For coming to find me, rescuing me from the pig, but mostly for believing me,” she whispered.

  He studied her for a moment and then nodded slowly. “Don’t ever lie to me; Gen. That will make it easy to believe you.”

  He didn’t wait for an answer, turning on a heel to leave the room. She sank lower into the suds, glad not to have to answer.

  Her stomach growled as she crept down the stairs. A yawn stretched her jaw. She’d almost fallen asleep in the water. Her fingers and toes were pruned. Peeking into the kitchen, she admired the bunch of her husband’s bicep as he mashed potatoes. A frown of concentration stamped his face, and she had to smile. His head snapped around as if he felt her regard. She bit her lip and offered a tremulous smile. The corner of his mouth turned up in the lopsided grin she loved.

  “Feel better?”

  “Much,” she answered shyly and slipped into the kitchen to help get things on the table.

  “Cole should be back any minute and then we can eat.”

  “Did Rose and Lilly go with him?” she asked softly, keeping her eyes on the bread and preserves she was adding to the table.

  “Yeah.”

  Gen nodded. She’d known they would. Women might have the right to vote, as Wade had sneered that first night, but they had few other rights. If anything, the recent hard times had knocked them a step back. Women were expected to keep the house and family together while compensating for the fact their man was earning less, or none at all, robbing him of his pride and making tempers short. It was a bad situation for them all. She peeked at her husband through the veil of her hair, glad he couldn’t read her thoughts.

  Trey’s stare tracked her every movement as she set the table. As glad as she was he couldn’t read minds, she’d give anything to know what was going through his head. The rumble of the truck in the drive was a welcome diversion. She pulled the platter of chicken from the oven as the back door opened.

  “You didn’t have to wait on me,” Cole said, joining them in a rush of cold air.

  “It was only right,” Trey countered. “Everything go all right?”

  “There was a small rumbling about involving the authorities, but I think we came to an understanding.”

  “An understanding?” Trey inquired dryly, one eyebrow arching in question.

  “If he doesn’t want to be gut shot and his writhing carcass fed to the hogs, he’ll keep his mouth shut and leave my big brother and his alone,” Cole said with a cocky grin and a sly wink.

  Gen’s hand flew up to stifle equal parts shock and amusement, but Trey threw back his head and let his laughter ring unchecked.

  “I guess you can bring the heat with the heart when you need to, little brother.”

  “It’s the McCade way. No one messes with my brothers but me,” Cole said, punching Trey in the shoulder hard e
nough to stagger the big man.

  Trey grabbed the back of his brother’s neck to give him an affectionate shake and then shoved him toward the table. “Let’s eat.”

  Securing the towel around his hips, Trey spread his arms wide to stretch weary shoulders. It had been a hell of a day. Strolling down the hall, he paused at the bedroom door. His eyes locked on the still form under the quilts. The day had taken a toll on his bride. He’d seen the strain on her beautiful face, but she’d showed a quiet strength today. Through everything, she’d kept the tears at bay. Thank God. He hated tears.

  Moving to the side of the bed, he stared down at her. He fought the urge to stroke her copper hair. She’d taken a leap of faith telling him the truth today. He’d seen the fear in her eyes. Family ties were a strong bond. He’d like to think that even if he hadn’t already had an innate distrust for Wade, that he would’ve recognized the truth when he heard it. He frowned. He’d never know for sure.

  Rounding the bed, he ditched the towel and pulled on pajamas. He eased into bed as gently as possible, trying not to wake her. The moment his back hit the mattress, his wife rolled and snuggled up to his side. Her freckled nose rubbed over his bare chest before she rested her cheek against him with a soft sigh. Her hand splayed over his abs. He smiled and wrapped his arm around her, tucking her close and kissing the top of her head. Even if she only sought the heat of his body, the press of hers was pleasant. Bending his other arm behind his head, he closed his eyes.

  The sun’s first rays were peeking through the curtains as Genevieve’s eyes fluttered open. Curled against her husband’s side with his strong arm around her, she couldn’t think of a place she’d rather be. The previous day’s events crept into her happiness, and she shuddered lightly. Trey’s other hand came up and pulled the quilt tighter around her. She looked up in surprise.

  “Good morning, darlin',” he murmured, his deep voice gravely with morning rust.

  Gen smiled against his chest. She loved his voice. She couldn’t resist kissing one well developed pectoral muscle. She loved his chest too. If the truth were to be told, she couldn’t think of anything about this man that she didn’t love. He raised both eyebrows, a little smile twitching at the corner of his lips. He seemed to be waiting for something.