Ace entered the camp, his boots making soft scuffing sounds on the rock. He took one look at Caden and said, “At least the horses are settled.”
“Shut up, Ace.”
Ace waved to Maddie. “Evening, Sprout.”
Maddie waved back. “I set aside supper for you.”
“Thanks.”
Ace grabbed one of the freshly washed bowls off the rock by the fire and asked, “Who cooked?”
“Maddie made the biscuits.”
Ace immediately piled three on his plate. He hesitated over the stew.
Caden sighed. “It’s safe. I made the stew.”
Ace loaded up his bowl. “It’s a damn shame that woman can’t cook.” Dipping a biscuit in the stew, he moaned, “But she sure can bake.”
“She can do a lot of things.”
Ace raised a brow at him. “Maybe even make you happy.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it.”
Ace took a bite of stew. “You’re in a foul mood.”
“It’s my wedding night.”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got a right to be testy.”
“Not what most bridegrooms say.”
“Most bridegrooms aren’t forced to marry at the end of a shotgun.”
“Yeah, but you got to marry up with Maddie.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Ace dipped his biscuit in the juicy gravy and took another bite, chewing slowly, making Caden wait until he swallowed before answering.
“It’s a pretty good deal. She can bake.” He held up a biscuit, which Caden knew from the one he’d had were better than Tia’s cooked in an oven, and Maddie had done it over an open fire.
“She’s pretty. She’s sweet.”
“She betrayed me.”
“What makes you think she had a choice?”
“I asked her.”
“Hmm.” Ace dipped the biscuit in the gravy again. “I see.”
“What do you see?”
He shook his head. “It’s not my place.”
“Since when has that ever stopped you?”
Ace looked at Maddie and looked at him, as if measuring the possibilities.
“I’m thinking you’re being a fool, Caden.”
“I didn’t notice you standing up to marry her.”
“She didn’t want me.”
“No, she wanted me, and she arranged it so she got me.”
“Can you blame her? With the life she’s had?”
No. On one level he really couldn’t. On another, he did. Completely.
“She doesn’t want a divorce. Said you can’t break your word to God.”
“He’s not someone I’d be breaking my word to.”
“It was a promise I shouldn’t have made in the first place.”
“Convenient way of thinking.”
“Whose side are you on?”
“Between you, Maddie and God? I’m siding with God.”
“Since when did you find religion?”
“About the time you started thinking promises convenient.”
Fuck. There was nothing he could say to that.
“She is a pretty little thing.”
Caden followed Ace’s gaze. Maddie was sitting cross-legged, her braid drawn over her shoulder, threading her fingers through the strands, a hairbrush sitting in her lap. If this really were his wedding night, he’d stroll over there and take over the job. Cuddling that soft ass in his lap while he ran his fingers through those silky strands before picking up the brush and running it from crown to end, letting it glide over her nipple again and again until it was as hard as he was.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
Ace smiled. “Feeling possessive?”
“She doesn’t need men gawking at her.”
“Really? Because it seems to me that’s one woman built for love.”
Caden couldn’t argue that. Thick, wavy red hair, sweet face, full breasts and hips that flowed to that narrow waist, and just that certain something about her that made a man think of hot sex. Maddie was definitely a woman made for love, but there was always a catch.
“She’s had enough of men.”
Ace finished off the last of his stew in three bites. “Did you ask her about that?”
“It’s not something anyone needs to ask. She’s been raped her whole life.”
“A husband might be different. A husband can’t rape his wife.”
Caden wasn’t so sure about that. It was so easy to imagine making love to Maddie, touching her with the tenderness he wanted to, slowly unbuttoning her bodice, kissing his way from her mouth down to her breasts, taking those full globes in his hands and plumping those nipples to his lips, rolling his tongue across the tips until they were hard and demanding and then biting them just a little, just enough to make her gasp, before unbuttoning that dress the rest of the way. Sliding it off her shoulders. Pushing all her clothes away until she was naked on the bedroll in front of him, legs spread, lips parted. Anticipating. His cock throbbed and he damn near groaned out loud.
And then he imagined how she’d really look if he did that to her. The fear and loathing that would be on her face followed by that blank stare a whore got when they were doing their job. He never wanted to see any of that on Maddie’s face. “She’s not going to have to worry about that from me.”
“So you plan on just giving up on making love?”
“Hell, no.”
“You’re a married man, Caden. Stepping outside your marriage, that’s breaking a vow.”
Caden poked the fire with a stick. “Did you sit over here to needle me or help me?”
Ace ladled more stew into his bowl. “I haven’t decided yet.”
Maddie finished that side of her hair and, with a graceful move, pulled it all over to the other shoulder and started brushing the other side. Looking closely, Caden could make out the shape of her breast beneath her dress. If he focused on the curves, he could figure out exactly where her nipple was beneath the material. Two inches left of the decorative button that draped the bodice. His fingers tingled. He rubbed them down his thigh.
“Fuck.”
Ace shrugged. “She’s your wife, Caden. For better or worse, and from the way I’m looking at it, you could do a hell of a lot worse.”
“You shouldn’t be looking at anything.”
“And you should be looking at everything. What’s your point?”
Caden shook his head and changed the subject. “Find anything out there?”
“As far as I could determine, nobody followed us. I went back to the trail and set a false trail. You should be good for a while up here.”
Caden nodded. “Yeah, up until somebody remembers at some point that Fei had a mine up here.”
Ace nodded. “Yeah. Someone’s bound to put that together with your presence.”
“Any signs of Indians?”
Ace nodded. “Plenty.”
“Wonderful.”
“Can’t be blaming them. The army’s been pushing them hard for years, trying to clear the land for settlers. Now, with that fracas in the East rising up, they’re getting some room to make a statement of their own. It might not be safe to have Maddie out here.”
Hell, it wasn’t safe to have Maddie out here even if the Indians weren’t pitching a fit.
“Well, there’s not much we can do about it now. I’ve got to get this mine started and get it certified as Hell’s Eight’s. To do that I need money.”
“Don’t you mean get it certified as yours?”
No, he didn’t. Caden cocked a brow at Ace. “So you do have something else on your mind besides my marriage.”
Ace hesitated, cursed and set his bowl down. Picking up the spoon, he started weaving the spoon through his fingers. “Why did you leave Hell’s Eight?”
“It was time.”
“For what?”
“To build something of my own.”
“So it didn’t have anything to do with that promise you made y
our dad?”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t have to repeat your father’s mistakes, Caden.”
“Who said he made mistakes?”
“I do and so would you if you didn’t feel so damn guilty about the way he died.”
“I should have helped him.”
“You were eight.”
“I could shoot a gun.”
“So could I, but my parents didn’t want me in the battle. They wanted me to live. Just likes yours did you.”
“And I am.”
“Like they did without settling anywhere, chasing rainbows instead of building a home.”
“I’m a Miller.”
“No.” Ace tossed the spoon in the bowl. “There are people that spend their whole lives looking for a home without finding it, Caden.” Ace looked over at Maddie and stood. “You’ve found yours. Don’t throw it away.”
“The marriage wasn’t my choice.”
“That doesn’t make it any less real.”
That was true. “This is none of your business, Ace,” he repeated.
“Maybe not, but in my opinion, you’re still married to one of the sweetest women I’ve ever met.” With a jerk of his chin, Ace indicated Caden’s bedroll. “So when you go over there tonight, don’t bring your anger with you.”
Caden stood. “Are you threatening me?”
Ace didn’t flinch. “Do I need to?”
Caden dragged his hand down his face. It was a measure of how far he’d wandered from himself that he couldn’t snap out an answer.
* * *
THE TEN YARDS to the bedroll did nothing to provide an answer. His anger still seethed. The tenderness still struggled. The urge to lash out still raged. Caden expected Maddie to scramble away in fear as he got closer. Instead, she smiled and patted the blanket beside her. She was dressed in her thin camisole. The woman definitely took chances.
“You want to talk.”
The hell he did. He wanted to shout. He wanted to holler. He wanted to pound something. But talk? No.
“Not really. Scoot over.” She scooted but not over, just back.
“You want to sleep?”
Her unconstrained breasts shimmied with the move. He couldn’t take his eyes off the sight. “Not really.”
She looked up at him. He didn’t hide anything in his expression. Her fingers stilled on the ruffle of her pantaloons. He expected her to disappear into that place she went. If she had any sense at all, she would. He was on edge. Wild. Instead, she said in a voice so rational it was almost cold, “You want to start our honeymoon.”
“I admit the desire is there.”
She started to unbutton her camisole with a calm he’d have believed if it weren’t for the pulse pounding in her throat and the barely perceptible shake in her fingers.
“But I’ve decided against it.”
Her head snapped up. Those pretty green eyes widened.
“Why?”
He hadn’t expected the question from her. Hell, he never knew what to expect from her. He took off his hat, tossed it to the upper right corner of the bedroll and ran his fingers through his hair. He finally just gave her the unvarnished truth.
“Because I don’t know what the hell to do with you.”
“You don’t know...?” She looked at him, mouth open.
“Aw, hell. I mean I’d know what to do if I wanted to do something with you, but short of that I don’t know what to do with you.”
“I’m your wife. You promised to love, honor and cherish me.”
“You betrayed Hell’s Eight.”
“You think I betrayed you.”
And just like that, Maddie cut to the heart of the problem the way she always did.
“You did.”
“I guess so.”
“You could at least feel guilty.”
She licked her lips, her hands tightened into fists, and those respirations were doing double time. “It’s hard to talk like this. It takes all my concentration to not...drift away.”
“And?”
“I need to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I can’t feel and do...it.”
That was a very soft, quiet admission. Jesus.
Caden put his arm around Maddie’s shoulders and pulled her to him. She didn’t exactly help, so instead of sliding gently into his embrace, she tumbled, her head hitting his stomach, her elbow driving into his groin. Pain slammed through him. He grunted, held his breath, lifted her up and then placed her beside him.
She pushed her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Give me a minute,” he said, his voice tight even to his own ears.
“What’s wrong?”
He cut her a glance. Her camisole was half off her breast, exposing all but a hint of her nipple. His fingers itched to trail over that softness, to tease and tempt, to tug that thin fabric down until she was fully exposed. Vulnerable. Eager. His senses came alert. His balls spasmed in protest. Her eyes dropped to his groin. She rubbed her elbow as she put two and two together.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.” A lock of hair was hanging in her eyes. He resisted the urge to push it aside for all of two seconds. The problem with Maddie was she was just too darn touchable. Tucking the hair behind her ear, he asked, “Making sure you don’t receive any unwanted advances tonight?”
Another lick of those tempting lips. He wanted to lean in and capture that moisture on his lips. To feel her hot breath brush over his skin with the same intimacy of the humid night.
“What makes you think they’d be unwanted?”
He glanced up, catching...something in her eyes. Desire? Fear? Resignation? “Probably the fact that I’m not seeing the kind of softness a man sees from a woman that desires him.”
She raised her eyebrows. “That’s probably because I’m not seeing a lot of softness from you. The kind a man shows when he desires a woman.”
That shot hit home. He didn’t have much to say to that, and she didn’t have much follow-up, which just left them sitting there on their respective bedrolls, side by side, on their honeymoon with nowhere to go. As the minutes passed, so did Caden’s anger. Her touch on his arm, the slide of her fingers down the inside of his wrist, her fingers meshing with his before giving a gentle squeeze polished off the last of it. He squeezed back. They did all right when they weren’t talking.
“Maddie—”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t start talking. Don’t start hating me.” She made a cutting motion with her hand. “Just don’t.”
“I don’t understand why you did what you did.”
She shrugged. “If it helps, neither do I.”
He sighed and put his arm around her shoulder. She jumped as he pulled her to his side, sitting as stiff as a spinster. As if she didn’t know what to do, what to make of it. Of him. And probably she didn’t.
“Haven’t you ever cuddled with a man before, Maddie?”
Her hair rustled against the cotton of his shirt as she shook her head.
Shit. “Never?”
“I never had a beau.”
A beau. A quaint term for what for most was part of growing up. He thought of the firsts that came with a beau—first grown-up dress, first courtship. First kiss. First love. First broken heart.
Truth was, he didn’t have much contact with above-stairs girls, but enough of them married and left the business that they had to fit romance in there somewhere. “No one ever came calling? Wanted to take you out?”
She shook her head again. He couldn’t imagine it. Prostitute or not, some man must have wanted Maddie.
“No one?”
She sat as stiff as a board under his arm. As if each word were glass dragging across her tongue, she whispered, “Men don’t cuddle whores.”
She’d come to a lot of conclusions about what men did and didn’t do over her eighteen years. There was a time when he’d told himself she was too y
oung for him. Now he wasn’t so sure. That much bad living left a woman with scars too deep for a younger man to handle.
“Maybe that’s true, but I didn’t ask about whores. I asked about you.”
She shrugged and looked down. “It’s one and the same.”
He tipped her chin up. She still managed to avoid his gaze. He didn’t let that deter him. “No, it’s not.”
She grabbed his wrist, holding on tightly. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
She shook her head. In her eyes he could see the glint of tears. “Please don’t make fun of me this way. I know you’re mad, but please, don’t pretend you see me as I’m not.”
See her as she wasn’t? She was begging him not to humiliate her. Son of a bitch. How had he let things get this bad?
“I’m not trying to upset you, Maddie.”
“I know. You’re just working it out in your mind.”
“Working what out?”
She clasped her hands in her lap. “The fact that you don’t have to worry with me. It’s all right.”
“What’s all right?”
She shrugged. “Whatever you want to do.”
She thought he was working around to giving in to his baser instincts. He tried to imagine that. What it was like to sit with a stranger and watch him decide you didn’t deserve respect. That you were there for his use, however he saw fit. To do with as he saw fit.
“Maddie—”
She cut him off. “All men do it. Even the decent ones.”
He guessed it could be difficult for a man looking at Maddie’s sweetness to be all right with releasing the animal in him. But he bet they all managed.
“They’re the worst.” She shrugged. “It just takes them a little longer.”
“For what?”
She looked away. He could actually see her withdrawal.
“To do whatever it is they want to do. Sexually.”
He’d called her a whore to her face, then argued with her when she said she wasn’t worth anything because he’d expected her to see herself as something. Yet her whole life she’d sat waiting to be shown the opposite. Fuck.
From the time she was eight, she’d been learning that lesson. With every customer the madam had sent up, she’d been taught she was worthless. He tried to imagine her at eight. How sweet and innocent she’d have looked. How innocent she’d have been. It was all too easy to imagine that. What was hard was imagining any man looking at her at that tender age and seeing a woman.
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