by Laura Drewry
“’Mornin’, Dwight.” He walked barefoot through the yard to face the man, only to have his embarrassment double.
Berta stood by the fire, staring open-mouthed.
“Berta,” he stammered. “I wasn’t expecting you out here so early.”
Dwight’s laughter split the air between them. “We can see that, Caine. Don’t look like you was expectin’ anyone.”
He couldn’t stop the heat that raced over his cheeks, so he shrugged and tried to laugh it off.
“Seems we overslept,” he said.
“Overslept,” Dwight repeated, glancing from one piece of strewn laundry to the next. “Right.”
“Sorry,” Jed said to Berta, who’d finally turned her face away, then grinned back at Dwight. “Could you pull it over by the lean-to there? I’ll go find some clothes and be back in a minute.”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just scrambled to pick up his scattered clothes, gave them a hard shake, then raced back inside the barn. Lucy had just slipped her blue day dress over her head when he walked in.
He almost wished he was buttoned into his trousers – at least then his desire wouldn’t be so damned obvious.
“Lumber’s here,” he said when he’d found his voice again. “Here, let me help.”
He covered her hands with his until she released the buttons on the back of her dress and let him take over. The blanket pooled at his feet, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t help himself. Every time his fingers brushed against her back, Lucy shivered. And so did he.
Every time she took a breath, it shook on release.
“There,” he murmured. “All done.”
“Thank you.” She kept her face averted and set to work on tying back her hair.
Jed inhaled deeply, then hurried into his dirty smelly clothes.
“Lucy.”
She’d finished with her hair and was busying herself with her boots. She hesitated when he spoke, but finally turned to face him.
“I just, uh--” Ah, hell. He took her in his arms and kissed her, over and over again until she relaxed. Her lips moved against his, searching for everything his did, her fingers weaving through his hair until he moaned against her.
She smiled against his mouth and leaned into him.
“Find this funny, do you?” He smiled back, his mouth still pressed against hers.
Lucy shrugged slightly and kissed him again.
“Oh, God.” He groaned again. “You’re killing me.”
“I’m sorry.” Her whisper brushed over his skin.
“I’m not,” he whispered back. He kissed her cheek, her eyes, and the tip of her nose. There were so many other places he wanted to kiss, to taste. Like that spot right under her ear, and that tiny hollow at the base of her neck. And that valley between her breasts, and --
“I better go.” After one more kiss, of course.
Lucy cupped the side of his face in her hand and let his kiss linger before she lowered her hand and released him.
“That’s a nice way to start the day,” she sighed.
Jed laughed and stepped back toward the door. “That part, sure. The part where I fell out of bed stark-naked and then ran outside wrapped in a blanket. . .” He rolled his eyes. “Not so nice.”
Lucy laughed softly. “I enjoyed it.”
“Is that right?” He moved back to her and yanked her against him. “Let me show you what I’d enjoy.”
She pushed against his chest, laughing all the while. It was a soft, feminine sound that made him want to forget all about Dwight and the load of lumber.
And Berta.
Dammit. Of all the bad luck.
But he had to have one more taste. Just one. Maybe two.
Lucy met his kiss with waiting open lips and a sigh. If he didn’t get out of the barn right then. . .
“I’m really leaving now,” he muttered.
“Then why are you still here?” She kissed his chin, his jaw line, then his Adam’s apple. Desire ripped through him hotter and faster than ever.
“I’m not,” he answered. “I’m gone.”
“Hmmm.” She kissed his earlobe, then his neck – in that same spot he wanted to kiss her. “Bye, then.”
“Yeah.” He yanked the pins from her hair and filled both hands with its length. God but he loved her hair. “See ya later.”
“Mm-hmm.” She found his mouth again, her lips pressing softly against his, her tongue dancing with his.
“Caine!”
Lucy’s lips froze against his, then curled into another smile.
“Dammit.” Jed sighed. Maybe later, they could. . .no, they couldn’t. Not yet.
He leaned in for one last kiss, then jerked the door open. Before he could leave, though, Lucy touched his arm, bringing him to a dead halt.
“Thank you, Jed.” She almost looked embarrassed, but Jed would have none of that.
“Hold the thanks ‘til I’ve done something you’ll be truly thankful for.” He wiggled his brow at her. “And believe me, the things I have planned for you--”
“Come on, Caine, I ain’t got all day.”
He blew her another final kiss and ran outside. It was going to be a long miserable day unloading that lumber and getting the barn going.
The only saving grace was knowing Lucy would be by his side tonight again. That thought alone was enough to get a man though hell and back.
o0o
Tremors continued to rock Lucy after Jed disappeared outside. How could something feel so wonderful when she knew it was so wrong? So horribly, horribly wrong.
Her fingers trembled against her lips where Jed had kissed her only moments before. For a man who claimed to be so practical and sensible, he certainly knew how to leave a girl out of sorts.
A smile eased up beneath her fingers. Last night had been amazing. From what she knew of human men, they weren’t apt to get that close to bedding a woman, then have to stop. But that’s what Jed had done for her.
Could it be that he really did love her? It had to be more than lust, that was for certain, otherwise, he would have insisted she lay with him.
Instead, he’d tucked in behind her and held her all night. It was definitely a feeling she could get used to. One she’d like to get used to.
If only there were a way. . .
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“Too much.” Berta smiled her nervous little smile and took the spoon away from Lucy - again.
“But it’s not completely mixed.”
“I know,” she answered patiently. “With biscuits, you only want to stir enough so the ingredients are slightly mixed, and no more than that. Otherwise, you’ll end up with rocks.”
“Again.”
Berta coughed over a laugh, but her eyes never met Lucy’s. They’d moved the table outside and had been mixing, folding and stirring for almost an hour while Maggie slept, yet Berta had not once looked directly at Lucy, at least not when she thought Lucy would notice.
“Why don’t you go stir the stew and I’ll take care of the biscuits for now?” She handed Lucy a large spoon and practically shooed her toward the fire. “You can try this again tomorrow.”
Lucy shrugged and did as she was directed. For the first time in weeks, she and Jed were going to eat something other than beans – she’d lick Berta’s boots if that’s what the woman told her to do.
Jed walked around the freshly stacked lumber just as Lucy reached the fire.
“Is that. . .no.” He stepped closer, his nose lifted to the wind. “Miss Blake’s stew?”
Lucy forced a hurt look. “You don’t think it smells better than my beans, do you?”
“I. . .uh. . .well--”
“No lying, remember?”
A guilty smile played across Jed’s face. “Okay, well, then how about this - it smells different from your beans.”
“Excellent answer, husband.” She pointed the spoon at him and grinned. “I suppose I should warn you that she’s been trying to teach me how to make biscuits.”
Jed tipped his head to the right. “What do you mean ‘trying’?”
“Apparently, among my other cooking faults, I don’t stir properly.” She whipped the spoon around the stew for good measure. “Imagine my surprise.”
“I dunno about that.” He sidled up beside her until their hips pressed together. With a quick glance in Berta’s direction, he tipped his head closer to Lucy and whispered, “You stir me up pretty good.”
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Not even a little bit funny, Jed.”
“Sure it was.” He winked and shrugged. “True, too.”
She snuggled against him until he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
“She always looks at me with such an odd expression.” Lucy frowned at the stew pot. “And she’s always so nervous.”
“Nervous?” He shook his head. “She seems okay to me.”
“Maybe,” Lucy mused. “But in all the time she’s been here, she won’t look at me. Most of the time, she won’t even talk to me.”
“Maybe she’s shy.”
Lucy quirked her brow. “Doubtful. You don’t think she believes what Maggie says about me, do you?”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. Maggie had held firm to her beliefs and steadfastly refused to set foot outside the house – at least not while Lucy was anywhere nearby.
Berta had forced her outside the day Lucy and Jed went into town, but Maggie refused to stay out long, in case Lucy surprised them by coming back earlier than expected.
The closest Maggie would get to fresh air is sitting by the open window in the early morning and late evening when Lucy was still inside the barn. The second she stepped foot outside, Maggie returned to the farthest corner of the house and stayed there.
After downing two mugs of water, Jed kissed Lucy’s cheek and returned to his stack of lumber. It all needed to be sorted and divided into piles: one for the barn, one for the house, and the leftovers for the corrals. And Dwight still had at least two more loads to deliver.
“How’s the stew?” Berta’s voice startled Lucy.
“Good.” She watched the other woman for a minute, noting every time she flinched, twitched, or cast another nervous glace Lucy’s way.
She couldn’t stand it another minute.
“What’s wrong?” She stood over the fire, spoon in hand, watching Berta’s profile for any clue. “Have I done something?”
“No,” Berta hurried to answer. “You’ve done nothing to me.”
“Then what is it?”
Berta took a long moment to wipe her hands before she turned. When she finally faced Lucy, her eyes were red and swollen with unshed tears. Her chin trembled and she licked her lips several times.
“Sit down,” Lucy said. “Please.” A nervous knot began to coil in her belly, warning her to get out. To run down to the creek and forget she’d ever asked her stupid question. Why should she care if this woman was afraid of her?
But something else, an unfamiliar and much stronger pull, rooted her to the spot.
Using the dish towel as a handkerchief, Berta dabbed her eyes and nose. Then finally she looked straight at Lucy. The longer she stared, the more familiar it became, and the more Lucy fought the urge to run.
It was more than just familiar. It was almost familial. No.
No.
“Lucy,” she began. “I’m. . .”
No. Lucy’s head shook of its own volition. It couldn’t be.
“I’m your mother.”
Lucy stumbled back a step, staring at this woman. . .this horrid horrid woman.
“I felt it the moment you appeared at the auction,” Berta continued, “but I. . .I wasn’t sure and w-was too frightened to say anything.” Tears streamed down the woman’s chubby cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. “I didn’t want to believe it.”
“But how--” Lucy stopped, took a deep breath, and swallowed. “What about. . .why?”
“I was weak,” Berta sobbed. Her shoulders shook with each ragged breath. “And I let Sa— your father seduce me. He promised me everything I ever wanted.”
“And what you wanted,” Lucy said, holding her own tears in check, “didn’t include me.”
“That’s not true,” Berta sniffled. She reached for Lucy’s hands, but Lucy drew back. “Please try to understand.”
“Understand?” she cried, then lowered her voice. The last thing she needed was Jed – or Maggie, for that matter – running out to hear. “How can you expect me to understand? You left me with him! Do you have any idea what that was like?”
Berta shook her head, then let her chin drop to her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” Anger propelled Lucy in a large circle around the fire. “Sorry?”
She paced the ground in front of Berta, clenching and unclenching her fists, wishing more than anything she could throw something.
“Yes,” Berta said between sobs. “I’m so ashamed of what I did. But he didn’t give me any choice.”
Lucy froze in the middle of her next step and glared at the woman who’d given her birth; the human woman. “We all have choices, Berta. You obviously made yours.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“No?” Lucy seethed. “Then what is it? Explain to me how a mother gives up her baby daughter to a life like that. If you didn’t want me, there must have been someone who did.”
Berta blew her nose into the towel and stood up to face Lucy.
“My father was a church minister,” she started. “I was afraid if he discovered my secret, I’d be condemned on the spot.”
“Oh, I see,” Lucy said, wringing her hands to keep them from wringing Berta’s neck. “You didn’t want to spend eternity in Hell, but it was all right to send your child there.”
“No,” she cried, wiping her nose again. “It wasn’t me.”
Lucy waited for Berta to continue.
“Pregnancy isn’t something a woman can hide for too long,” she said. “When my father learned of my condition, he beat the truth out of me.”
For a second, Lucy almost felt for the woman. Almost.
“He threatened to kill me and my child for shaming him so badly.” She sniffed again. “That’s when your father came back.”
Lucy’s patience teetered on snapping. “And what did he do?”
Berta took a breath. “He told my father if he let us live, he’d take the child and Father would never have to see it.”
“Or?”
“Or Father would condemn himself to Hell for murdering me and my child.”
“Choices,” Lucy muttered. “Always choices.”
“Yes,” Berta nodded, wiped her eyes, and continued. “I was sent to live with my aunt until. . .”
“Until you handed me over.”
Tears fell in a steady stream from Berta’s eyes. “You were six months old when he took you from me. I loved you more than you can ever imagine, Lucy.”
“Just not enough to keep me.”
“I tried.”
Lucy snorted.
“No, I did,” Berta hurried on. “I ran away from my aunt’s house after you were born. I thought if I could get far enough away from there, he wouldn’t be able to find me.”
“Did you honestly think you could hide from him?” Even as the words spilled from her lips, Lucy wanted to take them back. How many times had she tried to hide, knowing full well it was impossible?
“I was fifteen.” Berta nodded and sniffed. “You can’t imagine how awful it was.”
“Yes, I can.” Lucy stared at this woman who claimed to be her mother. “You never came back for me.”
“I was so scared.” Berta’s voice trembled, her heard shook slowly. “I had no one left to help me. No way of knowing how to get to you.”
Lucy narrowed her glare at the woman. Her mother. There was only one way to retrieve a soul from Hell, and no human had that kind of strength.
“Why didn’t you say something at the auction?”
Ber
ta blew a long breath and slumped back on the boulder again. “All this time I didn’t dare hope to see you again until I was dead. And then suddenly you were there, standing in front of me, looking more beautiful than I ever imagined.”
Berta’s smile sparkled in her eyes, even as more tears poured out. There was something in that smile - but what? A spark ignited in the woman’s soul and began to push the darkness away.
“Right then, I knew I had to do something to protect you. Something to keep you safe and away from him.”
“Is that why you pushed Jed into marrying me?”
“You seemed set on having him.” Guilt and shame crowded Berta’s features, but her voice was firm and determined. “I didn’t have time to think of anything else, Lucy. All I knew was that of all the men there, you wanted him.”
When Lucy didn’t answer, Berta shrugged slightly. “Jed’s a good man. I knew if anyone could keep you safe, it’d be him. Those other men only wanted you for. . .well, you know what I mean.”
Oh yes, Lucy knew exactly what Berta meant. They’d all wanted her for one thing, just as she’d wanted Jed for one thing.
They fell silent for a moment. If Berta knew who Lucy was, did she know why she’d come to Redemption? Lucy had to be sure her mother wasn’t lying – or worse, in cahoots with Deacon.
She lifted the stew off the fire and set it on the ground next to the pit. If they dared let it burn, Jed would surely suspect something was up. According to him, Berta never burned anything.
“Do you know why I’m here?” she asked quietly with a furtive glance toward the barn, then the house.
Berta hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I think so.”
The nervous knot that had started in Lucy’s stomach tightened until she could no longer breathe. Berta knew. And Berta was human. Humans were cursed with consciences. If she let her conscience get the better of her, there was no telling what she’d do.
She might even tell Jed what Lucy was doing.
“You’re after his soul, aren’t you?”
Any hope Lucy had of her plan working began to slip away.
“And Maggie’s?” Berta’s tears flowed again. “The baby’s?”
“What if I am?”