The Devil's Daughter

by Laura Drewry

  Jed wondered on that a moment. How strong could a dandy like Deacon possibly be? He couldn’t threaten them physically – it might mean his nancy-boy gloves would get dirty.

  Light from the stoked fire danced across her pale, drawn cheeks. She let out a long weary sigh – something that worried Jed more than anything else.

  In the short time he’d known Lucy, she’d never allowed anything to defeat her. Sure, she’d ripped dresses and threatened to throw pots, but she’d never let anything beat her down before. She simply buckled down and tried again.

  She had a fire inside that refused to be doused. Until tonight. And even though her stubbornness was a challenge Jed hadn’t counted on, he much preferred that to this defeated and crushed Lucy.

  She obviously wasn’t going to say anything further on the matter. He eased her head down to his shoulder and wrapped his arms around her.

  “You’re safe with me. No one can hurt you now.”

  A soft sniff was her only answer, but it wasn’t long before the neck of his shirt began to feel damp against his skin. He’d never known what to do with a woman when she cried, so he simply sat there, holding her and murmuring reassurances into her hair.

  Damn Deacon. Damn him to Hell and back.

  No one made Jed Caine’s wife cry.

  No one.

  o0o

  She was getting weaker. She didn’t know why, but she had to do whatever it took to stop it.

  Deacon had always been strong, had always been able to douse what little light she had in her soul with minimal effort. But she’d never cried over it before – at least not in front of anyone. Last night she’d done her best to ward him off, to keep him away from her soul, but he’d still managed to weasel his way in somehow.

  Her only victory had been Deacon’s arrogance. So intent was he on turning Jed, he hadn’t noticed his affect on Lucy – and that was the edge she needed.

  She’d made the mistake of letting him surprise her, of letting him overwhelm her with his mere presence last night – a mistake she wouldn’t soon repeat. She needed to regain her strength, to focus on her plan, and to prevent Jed’s comforting words and touches from fogging her vision again.

  In truth, his touch caused an eruption of disturbing sensations. Strong, tender, and gentle, his hands left her feeling both safe and vulnerable at the same time. Her heart physically ached last night when he’d put his arm around her. If he had any idea of who she really was, he never would have touched her.

  Anger, frustration and fear boiled out first, followed by desolation and loneliness. These were not new to her, but since when did she feel them for another soul?

  Last night, she’d felt everything for Jed. Fear of what Deacon could do to him, and anger at not having the strength to stop it from happening. But it was only when Jed set her on his lap and held her that the loneliness hit her.

  If she won her freedom – no, when she won it - Jed would no longer be there with her. He’d never force another cup of her coffee down his throat, he’d never again suggest she restock the supply of buffalo chips, and he’d never run his fingers up her arms or over her back as he had last night after Deacon left.

  She’d never feel Jed’s mouth on hers again. And she’d never feel that swirling dive in her stomach when he leaned in for a kiss. Jed would be gone.

  Lucy rolled over on the scratchy blanket and stared through the gloom at the barn wall.

  What did she care if she never saw Jed Caine again? And what did she care if he never kissed her again? She could have kisses from any man she wanted.

  Oddly enough, the thought of kissing any other man was about as appealing as kissing one of those damned chips in the yard.

  The sounds of Jed starting the morning fire filtered through the cracks around the door. Any minute now, he’d slip in to get his precious coffeepot as he did every morning.

  Lucy squeezed her eyes shut. If she didn’t look at him, she’d have a few more minutes to shake the clouds from her head and focus on what needed to be done. And even though the plan seemed less alluring than it had a week ago, it was still the plan.

  She needed to get through Jed’s soul and she wasn’t going to do it by falling apart every time Deacon showed his face. Her brother had no idea how determined she was. He’d always thought of her as a weakling and until now, he’d been right.

  But not this time.

  The barn door creaked open, and Jed tiptoed inside. As usual, he was a rumpled mess, with his shirt buttoned wrong, hanging part way out of his waistband, and bearing yesterday’s sweat stains. Lucy stayed tucked under the blanket, watching and waiting.

  In less than a minute, he’d collected his coffee supplies and slipped back outside.

  Jed Caine was a handsome man, no question, but for some reason, that fact was multiplied a thousand fold when he first woke up. It might be because he looked so warm and vulnerable, or because she knew minutes before he’d been lying next to her, all warm and masculine.

  Or maybe it was simply because morning was the only time of day he didn’t wear that stupid hat.

  Jed Caine had amazing hair; wavy, silky and begging to be touched. Yet he insisted on hiding it under that wide-brimmed monstrosity.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing his image from her mind.

  Be strong. Focus.

  After a few long deep breaths, she slipped out of bed, and pulled the blanket around her. It didn’t matter how attracted she was to Jed. What mattered was how attracted he was to her and how she would turn that attraction into love.

  It would help if she had any idea how to tell the difference between his lust and love. Though many humans believed the two to be the same, Jed obviously did not cotton to that way of thinking.

  Until she figured out how to tell the difference, simple desire would have to do.

  With teeth chattering and fingers shivering, she dropped the blanket and rid herself of the dress she’d slept in. Then, quick as she could, she pulled the blanket around her again, leaving it open just enough to bare her shoulder and the thin string holding her chemise in place.

  With her boots pulled on but unlaced and her teeth clenched to stop their rattling, she stepped out into the chilly morning air. Cold be damned, she had work to do, and not a great deal of time to do it. Once she was free, she wouldn’t have to worry about baring skin. She could dress in as many layers as she liked – as long as they were pretty layers, of course.

  “’Morning,” she mumbled, stepping close to the fire.

  Heat. Please give me heat.

  “’Morning.” Jed crouched near the flames, stirring his damned coffee, and didn’t look up until he was into his next sentence. “I thought I’d get started on. . .”

  His gaze wandered over Lucy, following the blanket up her body until it reached her shoulders. He swallowed hard, blinked, then moved his eyes to her face. His Adam’s apple bobbed again.

  Lucy tipped her head, waiting for him to finish. So far, so good. He cleared his throat, rubbed both palms across his stubbled cheeks, then rose.

  “On the. . .uh,” he swallowed again. “On clearing the ground for the new barn.”

  She forced a smile and nodded. “All right. When I’m done here, maybe I can help.”

  Jed’s features twisted in an odd mixture of desire and frustration. Only a man would get worked up over a woman doing chores.

  Good. If she could keep him in that state, maybe she could finish things faster. She slammed her mind shut against the confusion that followed that thought.

  Jed’s practical side finally won him over again. He coughed twice, then motioned toward the far side of the fire. Their last six eggs lay in a basket next to what was left of the ham.

  “Thought you might want to try again,” he said, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

  A groan battled to be released, but Lucy fought it back. If she could manage to cook this one meal – just this one – without burning it, maybe that would win her some regard with Jed.

>   Yes, the first few attempts to fry eggs had turned them into little more than charred ashes, but maybe this time. . .

  “Feeling brave this morning, are you?” she teased.

  Color crept over his cheeks, but Jed only shrugged, never taking his hungry gaze from her.

  Lucy wiggled her back against the blanket.

  “Could you. . .?” she wiggled again. “This blanket’s so itchy.”

  Jed was beside her in a heartbeat. “Where?” he asked, his voice a tight croak.

  “Right. . .there.” Lucy dropped the blanket another couple inches and twisted her arm around to point out the non-itch in the middle of her back.

  The second his fingers touched her, she cursed herself like a madwoman. He was magic against her skin; his warmth seeped into her, turning her whole seduction against her – again!

  “That’s good,” she muttered, yanking the blanket back up. “Thank you.”

  Jed mumbled something incoherent as she ducked back into the barn. She kicked the stable door with the toe of her boot and cursed herself again. There had to be a way to seduce Jed without having him touch her.

  Maybe he was right. Maybe she needed to earn his respect to make him love her. But could she do it before Maggie’s baby came?

  Lucy dressed quickly in the dark, tossed yesterday’s dress into the pile near the door, then ran a brush through her hair. As much as Jed liked to look at it when it hung loose, it would only be in the way, so she quickly knotted it at the back of her head.

  If he wanted a practical wife, he’d get one. Those kind of women got respect, didn’t they?

  A minute later, she was back at the fire, determined to cook him a decent meal. Or at least one that didn’t disintegrate on his plate.

  Crouched as close as she dared, she refused to look away from the frying pan. At the first signs of the yolks hardening, she flipped each egg with careful precision, then turned the ham slices. So far, so good.

  A shifting movement to her right dragged her attention away. Garden snake. Big one, too. She snapped up the axe and chased it down until it was good and dead, lying in pieces behind the house. If only she could rid herself of the snake that was her brother.

  By the time she got back to the fire, her perfect breakfast had begun to burn.

  Using the piece of cloth she’d ripped from her skirt that first day, she yanked the frying pan from the flames and dropped it in the dirt. Thankfully, only one of the smaller pieces of ham bounced out. She lifted it up with the tips of her fingers, brushed the dirt off and set it on her plate.

  Jed emerged from the barn a moment later, looking freshly shaven and dressed in his cleaner clothes. His eyes widened the closer he walked.

  “Looks great,” he beamed at her. “Even smells great.”

  Lucy shook her head. “The eggs are a little burned on the bottom,” she muttered. “Stupid snake.”

  “Snake?” he frowned. “Where?”

  “Behind the house.” She dished two of the eggs onto his plate, then loaded it with ham before taking her own. Jed was halfway to the house before she stopped him. “I already got it, but that’s why the eggs are burnt.”

  “You got it?” he repeated. “What kind?”

  She shrugged. “Just a garden snake.”

  “You sure?” He strode back, concern clouding his face.

  “Believe me, husband, I know my snakes.” Her laugh was brittle, even to her own ears. “Now come and eat before it goes cold.”

  Jed walked slowly back toward her, his boots leaving clouds of dust in his wake.

  “How many were there?” he asked, nodding his thanks as she handed him his plate.

  “Just one.”

  “What did you kill it with?”

  “The axe.”

  Jed gaped. “You took the axe to it?”

  With a tip of her head, Lucy smiled slowly. “I couldn’t help myself. It reminded me of Deacon.”

  His laughter rolled between them in warm, rumbling waves. “Well I’ll be damned.”

  The irony of that simple statement. . .

  Lucy bit back a chuckle. “It’s just a snake, Jed.”

  He shook his head slowly, then sat on the ground next to the fire and filled his fork with the half-burnt eggs. Lucy held her breath and waited.

  Jed’s eyes widened, his chewing slowed, then sped up again.

  “This is pretty good,” he managed over his next forkful of egg. “Really!”

  Lucy lifted her fork, doubtful he spoke the truth. But once the egg hit her tongue, she couldn’t help smiling.

  “This is pretty good, isn’t it?”

  Jed hunkered down over his plate and continued to shovel the food in as fast as he could chew.

  “Is there more?” he asked when he’d scraped the last speck from his plate.

  Lucy shook her head and swallowed. “Sorry, I’m saving the rest for Berta and Maggie, if she’ll eat it.”

  “Nope, don’t be sorry.” He set the plate aside and patted his stomach. “Too much of a good thing does a body harm.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she murmured with a sly smile. “I’m certain there must be some good things a body can never get enough of.”

  “Wha. . .?” Jed stopped, chuckled, then nodded slowly. “I’ll go find the shovel and rake. I’ll be behind the barn when you’re ready.”

  It was Lucy’s turn to laugh. “Behind the barn? Oh yes, dear husband, I’ll gladly meet you behind the barn – with or without the shovel and rake.”

  He started to say something, then stopped. Instead, he reached over and kissed her cheek. It almost seemed a natural thing for him to do, as if he’d begun to enjoy her attempts to seduce him.

  “Thank you. That was the best breakfast I’ve had in too long to remember.” He rose to his feet and flashed her that wink, the one that made every cell of her body weaken. “I’m looking forward to more.”

  Lucy watched him walk away, taking a moment to admire his rear end. He’d get more all right, more than he expected and a hell of a lot more than he would know what to do with.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Berta kept her eyes averted even as she walked directly toward Lucy.

  “Good morning,” Lucy said.

  Berta nodded.

  “How is Maggie this morning?”

  With a mournful glance back to the house, Berta sighed, and finally spoke. “She’s not well, the poor dear. She needs to eat something other than bread and cheese.”

  Lucy pointed toward the basket. “I saved some of the eggs and ham. Will she eat that?”

  A faint light glimmered in the other woman’s pale eyes. “Hopefully.”

  While Lucy set to cleaning up one set of breakfast dishes, Berta set to dirtying another set. The woman worked with a sure efficiency that both amazed and irritated Lucy. Why couldn’t she do that?

  Perfect eggs and crisp, but not burnt, ham was ready in no time; all cooked in silence.

  “Looks good.” Ugh – had Lucy said that out loud?

  “Thank you.” Berta bobbed her head slightly before scurrying back into the cabin.

  Why on earth was the woman so nervous? The woman’s soul was troubled, no question, but for a human, she had a remarkable ability to block soul seekers from getting too close. How could a human gain that skill?

  o0o

  Jed paced off the area to be cleared, then marked the corners with large rocks. By the time he set the final corner, Lucy arrived, armed with her work gloves and a bucket of water.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She smiled back at him, but it was too late; he’d seen the frown, the tight lines around her mouth and the distant look in her eyes.

  “Nothing.”

  “Lucy.” He stepped up, tugged the bucket from her hand and set it on the ground. The gloves followed. “Tell me.”

  If she chewed that bottom lip any harder, she’d no doubt draw blood.

  “Is it Maggie?”

  A brief hesitation, then a short shrug. �
�Berta.”

  “What?”

  Lucy sighed softly and tried to pull her hands from his, but he held her fast.

  “There’s something not right with her, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  Jed grinned. “You probably scared the bejeepers out of her at the auction, with the way you walked in and told her how things were going to be.”

  She didn’t look convinced, but nodded anyway. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Ready to get started?”

  She lifted her brow in answer and tugged on her work gloves. Using the small chip-cart, Lucy loaded up weeds, brambles and rocks, and wheeled it to the area Jed set aside. Anything useable was piled separately to be retrieved later for the corrals and stalls; the rest would be burned.

  Under the piercing July sun, he mopped his brow and neck every few minutes, but Lucy didn’t seem the least bit bothered by it. Several times she stopped working, but only to rub her hands up and down her arms.

  She was working just as hard as Jed, so how could she possibly be cold?

  They worked past noon, pulling up the lighter stuff and hauling it away. Conversations were brief, given they’d have to almost yell to hear each other across the area they worked, but Jed did plenty of watching.

  She was a helluva lot stronger than he ever would have guessed. In fact, she could probably outwork all of the woman and most of the men at the auction. Maybe he’d made the right decision after all, even if it hadn’t seemed very practical at the time.

  Every passing day with Lucy surprised him a little more.

  She didn’t enjoy the work, that was evident, but she did it. She often seemed ready to quit, to run screaming down the road as fast as she could, but she never did. She’d simply grind her teeth together, glare fire in Jed’s direction, then get back down to work.

  She refused to give up on making coffee – wouldn’t even let Berta do it for her. It was as though she enjoyed the challenge. And finally, for the first time since she’d arrived, she’d cooked a tasty meal. Hell, it had been more than tasty. A little burned, but damn fine nonetheless.