The Devil's Daughter

by Laura Drewry

  “Mr. Caine, please.” Miss Blake mopped her brow with a lace handkerchief. “You need a woman to make you a home, to give you a family, and to help you make something of all that land you bought.”

  He didn’t look the slightest bit swayed.

  “And think of the children.” She lifted her chin and pinned him with what must have been a well-practiced frown. “One day your brother’s child will attend that school – do you not think it’s your responsibility to help ensure the best education possible?”

  Lucy felt the uncertainty ebb over Miss Blake’s soul first, then Mr. Caine’s. He seemed to falter for a moment, but remained rooted where he stood. His mouth tightened into a thin line, his dark eyes staring straight back at Lucy.

  Guilt – it worked amazing feats in humans. Lucy was certain if the fat lady – Miss Blake – could produce one of these book-less unschooled children, the man would no doubt hand over his last penny.

  But Lucy had to give her man credit – he continued to resist. Sure, he’d been tempted, but he’d held strong. If he didn’t want Lucy, he might end up taking home one of these other women.

  That would never do. Still, she held her tongue. Watching the guilt crash and ebb over his expression was almost worth the anxiety of the wait.

  “Mr. Caine,” Miss Blake went on, “if nothing else, think about Maggie.”

  Every muscle in Mr. Caine’s face and neck tightened.

  “It’s not good for her to be out there all alone in her condition. Obviously, if you could care for her yourself, you wouldn’t be here.”

  When he didn’t answer, Miss Blake cleared her throat and continued.

  “She needs a woman with her, someone to tend her needs, someone who understands.” She adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat quietly. “And though it’s not a nice thing to say, most of these other women. . .” she indicated the four behind her, “would not willingly want to take on a responsibility like that with someone in Maggie’s. . .condition.”

  Mr. Caine’s gaze flicked from Miss Blake, to Lucy, to the other four women who all suddenly found great fascination with the toes of their boots.

  He mumbled something under his breath and pushed back to the front of the room.

  “Have you ever done a day’s work in your life?” he asked, taking Lucy’s hands in his and turning her palms up.

  “Yes,” she answered with a definitive nod. Stoking fires and chiseling brimstone counted as work, even in a human world.

  His brow furrowed slightly as he ran his thumb over her calloused and scarred fingers.

  Lucy tried to tug her hands away, but he held them a moment longer, his gaze locked on hers. What did that look mean? And why did a tremble creep up her spine?

  “There’s plenty of other men here, Miss Firr.” He spoke quietly, causing the others to shift and strain to hear. “Why are you set on me?”

  Lucy lifted her chin and leaned close enough to whisper. “Because you have a good soul. I can see it.” She hesitated a moment, then added, “And because you’re the only one not set on me.”

  An odd look came over him, a small spark glinting in the depth of his dark eyes.

  “Okay.” He released her, then held up a hand to quell the burst of complaints. “So long as you understand it’s going to be hard work, and you’ll have to do your share.”

  “M-Miss Firr?” The fat lady stuttered. “Are you in agreement?”

  “Of course – whatever Mr. Caine wants.”

  “Once the money’s paid,” Miss Blake hurried to say, “there’s no refund.”

  Caine nodded in silent agreement.

  “And,” she went on. “Annulments are not--”

  “There’ll be no need for an annulment,” he interrupted with a hard glare.

  Another loud groan sounded through the room, but before anyone could complain too loudly--or, God forbid, change their mind--Miss Blake bartered an amount, had them both sign the slip, then ushered them through the crowd toward the door.

  “Reverend Conroy is waiting at the church.” She hurried them out of the restaurant. “Just give him this slip and the school’s portion of the money. Good luck to you both.”

  She made to shut the door behind them, but stood on the other side, peering through the last remaining crack for a long moment.

  “Mr. Caine,” she said quietly. “I meant what I said. I’ll help in any way I can.”

  Lucy waited until the door was closed before speaking. There was something about the fat lady Lucy didn’t trust. Granted, she didn’t trust anyone, but this woman was particularly odd.

  “Do we have to be married in the church?” Lucy shivered, panic clenching at her throat.

  Mr. Caine held out his arm for her to take, but she didn’t move. She couldn’t go inside a church – God would strike her down before her foot crossed the threshold - and any preacher worth his salt would know what she was the instant he saw her. If that happened, this whole plan would be finished before it began.

  “Change your mind already?” He chuckled, setting his hat over his dark hair and tipping her a raised brow.

  “No,” she answered, her mind racing. “I’m not a particularly religious person is all.” That was putting it mildly. “Couldn’t we go see the judge instead and have him pass the money on to the school?”

  Mr. Caine shrugged. “Makes no difference to me as long as it’s done quickly and we can get back. Day’s a-wastin’.”

  She released a breath and took the arm he offered. Warmth radiated from his skin – a welcome relief to Lucy as she shivered again. “Does it ever get warm?”

  His laughter startled her. “It’s the middle of July, Miss Firr.” He waved towards the sun, directly overhead. “It doesn’t get any hotter than Texas in July.” He turned to look at her while they walked. “Where are you from, anyway?”

  “Somewhere warmer than here,” she answered with a smile.

  He led her across the main street of town, steering her around potholes and horse droppings.

  “What brings you to a town like Redemption?” he asked.

  A lie jumped to her tongue, but Lucy bit it back. It would be much more interesting to see him figure it out bit by bit, even though his mind would refuse to believe any of it.

  “I came here to save myself from a life of misery.” She lifted her silk skirts higher than necessary to avoid another pile of dung. “I want to live what you’d call a normal life.”

  “And you didn’t have a normal life where you lived before?”

  “Normal for there, yes,” she answered.

  They passed by the bank and then the feed store, where two men standing outside leered openly at her. A pointed look from Mr. Caine had them scurrying inside, safe from the trouble his glare promised.

  “What was so bad about where you lived?” he asked, as though nothing had happened.

  Lucy bit back a laugh, then watched his face as she answered. “It was Hell.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t flinch at her language. Instead he chuckled softly. “I know what you mean. I used to think this was hell, too.”

  “Oh no,” she muttered. “This isn’t even close.”

  He led her inside the law office where, within minutes, the old whiskey-smelling judge had made it official.

  She was now Mrs. Jedidiah Caine. Granted, it wouldn’t last long, but she’d never been a wife before.

  This ought to be interesting.

  CHAPTER TWO

  What the hell did he just do?

  Jed fought the panic creeping through his veins. He’d spent two long days thinking the whole thing through so carefully, making detailed mental lists of what he needed – and didn’t need – in a wife and how much he could afford to bid at the auction.

  And then he’d spent the next two days talking himself out of that plan and trying to come up with a way to simply hire a woman to help out for a while.

  Despite all his forethought, he’d just paid two and a half dollars more than he’d origi
nally planned and given his name to a woman who was the exact opposite of anyone he’d ever considered wifelike.

  Sure, she was a looker with all that long black glossy hair and bright green eyes. But the fancy dress she wore, with its low cut bodice and cinched waist, was about as impractical as could be, and as for those satin slippers on her feet. . .

  This was a disaster waiting to happen. Even the way she spoke was wrong; gentle women didn’t dare think the suggestive things that came out of Lucy’s mouth. God knew Maggie had never uttered words like that! And if Lucy spoke so freely about these things, how much of that came from actual experience?

  Yup, Jed had definitely lost his mind when he’d agreed to marry Lucy. But his word was his vow, so now he’d have to find a way to make it work.

  Several more dollars later, he’d outfitted her with two simple day dresses, a pair of sturdy boots, a cotton bonnet she refused to touch, and a pair of work gloves.

  The dresses were designed for work, not looks, made with plain, stitched cotton and not so much as a breath of lace. The black leather boots would no doubt hurt something awful until she broke them in, and the bonnet was, without question, unsightly, but it would keep the sun off her head, and that was more important than anything else.

  She’d turned up her nose at all of it and flatly refused to so much as try the gloves on.

  Jed rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. It had been the condition of Lucy’s hands that pushed him into this marriage. She might look all silky and fancy, but those hands told a different story; one she hadn’t wanted him – or anyone else - to know about.

  “Just so you know,” Lucy said with a sniff. “There’s a considerable difference between dresses with no frills and ones that are down-right ugly.”

  “They’re not ugly; they’re sensible.” Jed sighed as he collected the package and led her away from the mercantile toward his waiting wagon. “And besides, I think we both know you couldn’t be ugly if you tried.”

  That seemed to appease her long enough for Jed to double check the rest of the supplies roped down in the back of the wagon, and then help his new wife up onto the blanket-covered seat. She pulled a second blanket from behind the bench and wrapped it around her shoulders, sending a waft of her unusual, exotic scent to tickle Jed’s nose.

  “When we get home, you’d best wash off your perfume,” he sighed, swallowing back his regret. “It attracts mosquitoes.”

  She laughed lightly. “I’m not wearing perfume. Besides, mosquitoes don’t like me – I have bad blood.”

  The horses whinnied and tossed their heads nervously. What was that all about? Jed took a second to scratch their noses, which seemed to calm them a little.

  He climbed up beside Lucy, released the brake, and clicked the horses forward. Why was she moving closer to him? There was plenty of room on her side of the bench.

  “It’s a bit of a ride.” He cleared his throat to try to ease the tight knot that threatened to block his words and his breathing. “You should put that bonnet on.”

  Lucy slid closer until their legs pressed against each other through layers of silk and wool. “I told you, I’m not wearing that revolting thing – especially not through the middle of town where someone might see me.”

  “The heat’ll make you sick,” he said. “You need to cover your head.”

  “This isn’t heat,” she answered airily. “And I don’t get sick, so you can stop fretting.”

  Jed’s patience began to fray. “If I say the sky is blue, I’d wager you’d say it was yellow.”

  Lucy snuggled under the blanket a bit more, without the slightest disturbance crossing her expression. “What are you talking about?”

  “You challenge every word I say!” he bellowed, then took a long deep breath. “There are jobs that need to be done, Lucy, and it’ll be your job to do them. They won’t be fun, and they won’t be easy, but you’ll have to do them anyway.”

  Her only response was a shrug and a smile.

  “You will wear that bonnet, and you will wear the dresses because that. . .thing. . .you’re wearing now will only get ruined. And if you get sick from the heat, you can’t work.”

  “I won’t get sick.”

  “You don’t know that.” He was yelling again.

  “Yes,” she answered plainly. “I do know that.”

  Jed needed to calm down. This was no way to start a marriage – and he sure as hell couldn’t let Maggie see him so upset.

  “You know that for certain?” he asked, forcing his voice to a normal level.

  “Of course.”

  “Here’s what I know for certain.” He tightened his grip on the reins. “I just paid a helluva lot of money for a wife I didn’t want because the school and my family needed me to. And for whatever reason, you were set on leaving that auction with me.”

  Lucy’s smile lit up her entire face. “Yes,” she agreed. “You were the one I wanted.”

  “Well you got me,” he grunted. “This is me, and this is going to be your life from now on. When we get home, you’ll put on one of them other dresses, you’ll tie that stupid bonnet over your head and you’ll get to work.”

  “But--”

  “No. No buts.” He shook his head, but kept his eyes looking straight ahead. “You wanted me, and you got me. I warned you back there it would be a lot of work, and I’m not going to waste time arguing with you over everything I say.”

  He dared a quick glance toward her, just in time to see fire flash in the depth of her green eyes. A heartbeat later, it was gone, replaced with a smile she must have pulled out of nowhere.

  “Whatever you say, husband.” She pushed her hand out from the folds of the blanket and settled it on his thigh.

  Jed tensed, but didn’t say anything. Sweet Jesus, where did this woman come from? She couldn’t have been from Texas, because Texas ladies were. . .well. . .well-behaved. Granted, it had been a while since he’d been with a woman, but he sure didn’t remember any of them being so free with their hands.

  ‘Course, Lucy wasn’t even a little bit like any of those women; that was mighty clear and he’d only met her, but at least he’d made his point. She knew what was expected now, and God willing there’d be no more arguments over it.

  Her slender fingers inched up a little more, then more yet, and tightened in a gentle squeeze.

  Whoa! Blood ripped through Jed’s system like a hurricane and God help him it was going to be a helluva storm if he didn’t put a stop to it right quick.

  “Lucy,” he struggled to say, lifting her hand from his leg and setting it in her own lap. “There’s some things we need to get straight, and I think we’d best do it now before we get home.”

  “If you say so.” Her eyes sparkled beneath dark lashes. “But remember, husband, I already agreed to do everything you want.”

  Despite his rant a moment ago, Jed wasn’t near stupid enough to believe one word of that. He cleared his throat roughly and nodded. He shoulda never gone to that blasted auction.

  “First things first, then.” He reined in the horses, set the brake and turned to face his new wife. “This is my side of the bench and that--” he pointed to the far side-- “is yours. I need you to sit over there.”

  Confusion dimmed her eyes for a brief moment. “Why?”

  “Because.” He hesitated. Honesty was the key to everything, though she obviously didn’t feel the same way. Regardless, he’d best start off on the right foot – set the example, no matter how uncomfortable it was to admit. “You’re too distracting when you sit this close.”

  Lucy’s face lit up. “Distracting? Oooh, I like that.” She resettled herself a little ways down the bench, not completely on the other side, but far enough away that they no longer touched.

  And more importantly, both of her hands stayed tucked beneath her blanket.

  “Thank you.” Jed set the wagon in motion again, and took two long deep breaths before continuing. “There’s some things you need to know before we ge
t home.”

  “Such as?” She didn’t look the least bit interested, but instead seemed more fascinated by a stand of mesquite bushes along the side of the road. It couldn’t be good if his new wife was more interested in a prickly hard-to-kill weed than in what he had to say.

  Not good at all.

  “Well,” he stammered. “To start with, there’s Maggie.”

  “Your sister-in-law.”

  He nodded. “She’s a little frail right now, worse since Sam disappeared. She gets weepy and sometimes says things she doesn’t mean.”

  No response. Was Lucy even listening?

  “You need to be patient with her. She refuses to believe Sam is dead--”

  “And you believe he is.”

  “I don’t believe my brother would leave his wife in her condition unless he was dead.” His voice uttered the words even as a tiny part of his heart pinched against them. He wanted to hope, as Maggie did, that Sam would come back to them, but he couldn’t afford to hope anymore.

  He had a pregnant sister-in-law and a spread to take care of.

  “Maggie needs to rest,” he said. “She’s already lost two babies, and if she loses this one. . .” He didn’t finish.

  “What about you, husband?” Lucy tipped her head to the side and studied him until he squirmed. “What should I know about you?”

  “Only that I’m a practical man. I don’t have time for frippery and nonsense, and once we get home, neither will you.”

  “And by frippery, you mean. . .”

  “I mean spending time worrying about how you look or what you’re wearing.” He took a slow breath. “There’s only two things you need worry about.”

  “And those would be?”

  “Tending to Maggie and getting the chores done.”

  “You’re not one of the things I need to be worrying about, husband?”

  Jed shook his head and shifted his position on the bench. “We’re not in love, Lucy, and we don’t need to be. All we need is to do is build respect between us.”

  “Not love?” Surprise filled her voice.