by Laura Drewry
With Deacon working against her, she’d have to double her efforts. She couldn’t let Deacon or their father feel her doubts, not for a single second. If they so much as suspected, it would be her downfall.
She needed Jed. She’d never needed anything, or anyone, before in her life, but she needed him. She needed him to love her, even if for just a moment. A moment would be all she needed to win his soul. Once she had his, Maggie would fall with little effort, and then Lucy could take the child.
The problem was that no one could love the real her, but maybe – just maybe – she could become someone else until she was free, someone Jed could respect. Someone he could love.
His love was the key to her freedom, plain and simple.
The thought of going back to Hell for an eternity with nothing but desolation – no, she couldn’t do it.
She wouldn’t do it.
Lucy inhaled a long, slow breath and tried to clear her mind.
It couldn’t be that hard to win Jed over. If he wouldn’t simply give in to his lust, as most men would have by now, she’d have to do things his way. If he wanted her to respect him, then that’s what she’d do. She’d respect the hell out of him if it killed her.
She’d make him believe anything he liked if it meant her freedom.
First things first, she needed to get outside and start collecting buffalo chips.
Damn it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jed tossed another pile of oats into the stall and sighed. Damn, but he was hungry. He’d hoped to avoid cold beans for supper, but if Lucy wasn’t going to do her part, then there was nothing he could do about it.
With the long days of tending Maggie and trying to keep up with the chores, he was too tired at night to be bothered with a fire. Maggie ate little but bread and cheese, so there was seldom a need to cook for her.
Sooner or later, Lucy would see her way clear, and then he’d eat to his heart’s content. Until then, he could live on cold beans and dried pork a while longer.
But if her anger was any indication, it’d be a while before she saw clear to anything. He’d never seen eyes flash fire like that. It went beyond her tantrum, beyond him denying her advances again, and far beyond any normal woman’s frustrations.
For a moment there, he’d almost thought she’d lit his back on fire with rage from that glare.
It’d be easy enough to let her have her way. And sure as hell it would ease her anger enough to make their first night together a lot more enjoyable, but he had to hold firm. By giving in to her now, he’d be letting her think she could do as she pleased whenever she pleased, and that was no way to win her respect. Worse, she’d never earn his.
While the horses chewed noisily, Jed checked over the tack and stored it neatly away. Why couldn’t he think of anything besides food? Maybe he’d have an extra serving of pork to make the beans more enjoyable.
What he wouldn’t give for a cup of coffee. . .no, he couldn’t. He’d had two cups this morning before heading into town. To make more would mean he’d have to build a fire, and that would defeat the purpose of having Lucy do it.
Stubborn, unbending, and too damn proud for his own good – that’s what he was. It was those exact qualities that forced him to believe he could make something of what others saw as a hopeless piece of land.
And it was those exact qualities he appeared to share with his new wife. God help them both.
With a final glance around, Jed stepped out into the fading afternoon light and inhaled a long, steadying breath.
What the. . .?
He froze in place, lifted his nose to the air, and strained to listen for the familiar crackling above a lone whippoorwill’s cry. It couldn’t be, could it? It smelled like it, but. . .
Cautiously, he stepped around the corner of the barn, half expecting it was nothing more than his mind playing tricks on him, that he’d only imagined both the smell and the sound.
They had fire.
Lucy stood next to the pit, small flames dancing skyward, and a fair-sized pile of buffalo chips stacked nearby.
She hadn’t seen him yet, so he kept to the shadows, watching – and choking back laughter. A rag covered Lucy’s mouth and nose, tied at the back of her head. Her cheeks puffed out, straining against the cloth, as her face went from pink to scarlet.
With her gloved hands, she picked up two more chips, tossed them on the fire, then turned and ran, dropping to her knees about a hundred feet away, gasping for breath.
It wasn’t until she stood and began to walk back that Jed realized the rag she’d covered her face with was actually the bottom of her skirt. It used to hang to the toes of her boots, but now only reached about halfway down her shins. If she hadn’t looked so ridiculous, Jed would have been angry at how she’d ripped apart a perfectly good dress.
But all he could do was grin.
He stepped out of the shadows and moved toward her with slow steady steps.
“Laugh once and you’ll be eating these chips for supper.” Lucy swiped her hair back from her face with her forearm, carefully avoiding any contact with the actual glove.
Jed choked back a chuckle and took another step toward her. “You’d probably do it, too.”
“How are we supposed to eat anything that’s been cooked over a smell like that?”
“Buffalo chips don’t smell.”
Lucy snorted. “This from the man who won’t collect them himself.”
He ignored the argument that crept to his tongue. He’d built his fair share of chip fires before she came along and despite what she said, buffalo chips didn’t stink.
At least not as bad as cow pies.
Brushing the smelly thoughts from his mind, he slapped his hat against his thigh, sending clouds of dust around him and the fire.
“Where’s Maggie?” he asked.
Lucy shot a sharp glare at the house. “She won’t come out of the house.”
“Why not?” Jed started toward the door, but Lucy’s words stopped him in midstep.
“She has it in her head that I’ve come here to hurt her. And she won’t eat because she believes I’m poisoning the food.”
“What?” Had Maggie truly lost her mind? What would possess her to say these things?
Lucy shrugged almost indifferently. “That’s what she said.”
“That’s craziness.”
Another shrug. “I tried to reason with her, but she only got more upset, so I thought it best if I left her alone for now.”
Jed was at the cabin door before Lucy finished speaking.
“Maggie!”
No response.
He rapped his fist against the door and called again. “Maggie, you have to eat.”
“She’s trying to poison me.” Maggie’s shrill voice reached Lucy at the fire. “Go away.”
“Fine.” Jed sighed. “I’ll make you something myself.”
“No – I won’t eat anything she’s been near.”
He pressed his forehead against the door, his palms flattened on each side. “Please, Maggie.”
“Go away, Jedidiah.”
“You have to come out sooner or later.”
“No, I don’t.” Her voice sounded more determined. “I’m quite happy in here.”
“You’ll have to. . .” he glanced around franticly. . .use the outhouse or get water.”
A pause. “I’m not coming out so you and your devil wife can kill me and take my baby.” A sob. “I’d rather die.”
And that was Jed’s biggest fear. He could walk in, of course, but that would just make her panic more. And he couldn’t force food down her throat.
“Just leave her for now,” Lucy said quietly. “She’ll come around.”
He wanted to believe that, yet a gnawing doubt kept at him, twisting his stomach and making his head pound. With another sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face and turned back to Lucy.
“So what are we having for supper?” he asked, his mouth watering at the mere idea of food. �
�I could eat the north end of a south-bound skunk right about now.”
Lucy sank back to the ground and sighed. “Don’t rule that out,” she mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear over the crackling of the fire.
Jed groaned. No no no.
He should have listened to his head. He should have stuck to his plan and taken one of the other women at the auction; one who could actually cook – and who wouldn’t have caused such a fuss over starting a fire.
The fact that none of the other women would have even considered coming home with him was irrelevant.
“You can’t cook.” It wasn’t a question, since they both knew the answer.
“No.” With a slow tug, she pulled the rag from her face.
He kicked a chip with his boot as the hopes of warm biscuits and apple pie drifted away like a feather on a spring breeze. Far, far away.
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.” She didn’t look the least bit remorseful, and he didn’t expect her to.
“Can you cook anything?”
Lucy’s mouth twisted for a moment before she shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Not even biscuits?” He could hope.
She shook her head.
“Pie?” Please say yes.
Another shake of her head.
“But surely you can make coffee.” Desperation tightened his voice.
“No.”
Jed blew out a long loud breath. “Can you clean? Do the washing?”
Lucy yanked the gloves off, rubbed her hand over the back of her neck and offered him an innocent little smile.
“Well, I never have, but how hard can it be?”
“You’ve never washed clothes before? Never kept a house clean?” His blood simmered just below a boil.
“No.”
Jed paced beside the fire, his teeth clenched, his belly enflamed and knotted – and growling loud enough to wake the dead. “Why?” He wanted to grab her and shake an answer out of her, but doubted her answer would be anything he wanted to hear. “And where they hell did you come from that you didn’t learn to cook or clean?”
Her silence fueled his frustrations until he thought he’d scream – at himself, not her.
Jed cursed himself sideways. Lucy was the only woman who would have left that auction with him. He needed her even if she couldn’t boil water.
At first glance, he’d wanted Lucy for the same reason every other man at the auction had wanted her: she was sexy as hell. But he could have resisted that. Good looks didn’t last under the hardships of Texas ranching. He’d been pulled in by something so ridiculous, he still couldn’t believe it.
It all came down to pride.
She had tried to hide the calluses on her hands, evidence of hardship and years of work. Those hands tipped it for him, despite what the rest of her appearance said. Anyone with hands like that knew hard work, and that was the kind of woman he wanted working with him.
And he’d enjoyed that she would only have him and no other man. That alone should have been a warning.
Pride cometh before the fall, after all.
When he turned to face her, she didn’t even have the courtesy to look contrite.
“What about children?” he finally asked. “Was that a lie, too?”
So help him, if she admitted to that lie as well, he’d load her into the wagon right this minute and haul her back to town so fast she’d be dizzy for a week.
No matter what Miss Blake said, annulments were easy enough to get these days – especially if it involved a woman who lied as Lucy did. He might not ever be able to hold his head up in town again, but that was just all the more reason to avoid town.
“No.” She looked him square in the eye and smiled. “That wasn’t a lie. If it’s truly my lot in life to have children, I’ll welcome them.”
“Your lot?” The faint glimmer of hope he’d felt a second ago, flickered out. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t want children?”
“There was a time. . .” She shrugged slowly.
“But—”
She silenced him with raised finger. “No buts, remember? I told you I’d do whatever you wanted, Jed, and if that includes children, then that’s fine with me.”
Despite his anger, despite her lies, she had the audacity to smile back at him.
“Of course,” she added, “if you want children, you’ll need to bed me first.”
o0o
Lucy choked back her last mouthful of burnt beans, then downed it with another cup of water. Maybe Jed would see the light now and take over the cooking; surely he wouldn’t let his darling sister-in-law starve to death.
He’d been awfully quiet since learning she’d deceived him, but he’d as much as licked his plate clean, so perhaps he wasn’t as angry as she’d thought.
“Thank you.” He set his plate on the blanket next to him. “That was a fine supper.”
She fought the urge to snort. Instead, she set her plate on top of his and looked up at him with a wry smile.
“What?” he asked. A quick splash in the creek had rid his hands and face of the afternoon’s dust and sweat, but not the frown etched across his brow.
“I never would’ve taken you for a liar.”
A look of absolute umbrage froze his mouth in an O. “I don’t lie.”
“Oh really?” She rolled her eyes for effect. “’A fine supper’?”
Jed sputtered for a second. “But it was a fine supper.”
“What we just ate, dear husband, was anything but fine.” She lifted her chin a notch, then pushed up from the blanket. “You needn’t waste time trying to appease me, Jed. I’m a horrible cook and we both know it.”
She walked over to the side of the fire pit, where she’d left a pot of boiled water to cool, and set to washing the dishes.
“Lucy.”
Hunched over the pot, she bit her lip to stop from smiling. Miss Blake knew what she was doing with the whole guilt idea. Jed would no doubt give in and relieve her of all future cooking duties. Maybe the dish duty, too.
His huge fingers wrapped around her arm, gently pulling her to her feet.
When she was standing next to him, he released her. Lucy could only hope she looked as hurt as she was trying to be.
“Supper was fine,” he said, then held up a hand when she opened her mouth to object. “I told you earlier, I’ve been eating nothing but cold beans and a little dried pork for weeks.” He paused a second, then added with a drawn out sigh, “Long, tiresome weeks.”
“And you want me to believe what I served you tonight was better than that?”
Color crept up Jed’s neck as he chuckled softly. “Well, now, I never said it was better, did I?”
Lucy opened her mouth to argue, then snapped it shut.
“No,” she admitted, looking down at his boots. “You never did.”
He tipped her chin back up with the crook of his finger and smiled down at her. “I didn’t say it was bad, either. It was fine.”
“It was burnt.”
“It was cooked – which is a darn sight better than what I’ve been living on lately.”
“But--”
Jed pressed his finger against her lips. Her heart stuttered, her breath held, and for a long moment, they simply stood there; Jed seemingly mesmerized by the mating of his finger against her lips.
Lucy stood rooted to the spot, willing him to kiss her, to press his lips against hers and take everything he wanted.
His mouth opened and shut twice. Then he licked his lips and swallowed hard.
“No buts,” he murmured before pulling his finger away and stuffing both hands deep in his pockets.
An odd feeling coursed through Lucy’s body. Her lips tingled from his touch, and it took every ounce of strength she could muster – and then some – to not slide her tongue out to taste where he’d touched.
Startled, she shook herself hard. What the --?
Biting back a curse, she turned away from Jed and set back to wor
k on the dishes. She needed to focus. With Deacon working against her and her husband worrying about a long and fruitful marriage, she definitely needed to rethink her plan.
Lucy had no intention of going back to Hell with Deacon, but she sure as Satan wasn’t going to have a long and fruitful commitment to any man, least of all one who made her collect buffalo chips. Only a few hours into this marriage, and she’d already had enough of being told what to do and when to do it, especially by a mere mortal.
He’d be sorry.
They’d all be sorry.
CHAPTER SIX
Lust. That’s all it was.
He’d been a long time without a woman and Lucy was a hundred times more woman than he’d planned on bringing home.
Jed scooped the two large buckets from the ground and began the short walk down to the creek, leaving Lucy staring after him. With any luck, the distance would give him time to regain his senses.
He hadn’t set out to touch her. Hadn’t even meant to stand that close, yet before he knew it, he’d done both. Her lips were softer than any he’d ever felt, and if he hadn’t regained his control when he did, sure as hell he’d have kissed her. But kissing her wouldn’t be enough – he knew that, and apparently so did she.
He tried not to wonder how many other men had touched her lips or worse. . .
Jed shook his head. It didn’t matter. He needed to be patient, to create a bond with Lucy before they let themselves fall into bed – or onto the hard ground, as was more likely the case with her. How long could he resist her, though? Even when she wasn’t intentionally trying to seduce him, she was far more than he was prepared to handle.
What he had was a wife who didn’t think the same way he did. He had a wife who was only interested in the physical end of a marriage – and that was something no man could resist.
The other men at the auction would lynch him if they knew he hadn’t taken her to bed the moment they’d arrived at the house – or sooner.
But he couldn’t. Well, he could, but a marriage needed to be built on respect. It was a hard-learned lesson, but one he’d never forget. How many times had he seen the disgust in his mother’s face when she looked at her husband? And how many times had his father taken up with a girl in town simply because she didn’t look at him that way?