“If you wanted me safe, you wouldn’t have left me anywhere. You’d have kept me with you.”
“There’s work I had to do at the mine. Time constraints on it.”
“So you chose gold over me. Same thing.”
“I chose our future.”
“Our future? No, it’s not our future when you can, on a whim, just set me aside, take all my money, take my children and just leave me behind.”
He blinked. “What in the hell are you going on about?”
“I talked to an attorney.”
“You talked to an attorney? Why?”
“To see what my rights were in divorce.”
“Who the hell said anything about divorce?”
“You left me. It was an option. I wanted to see what my rights were.”
“And what exactly did you find out?”
“That I have none! But you know the worst part, Caden?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I had more rights as a whore than I do as a married woman.”
“The hell you say.”
“The hell I do. And you know what else? I don’t like it. I don’t like that you can tell me you love me one night and the next morning just drop me off like I’m just so much garbage you’re sick of carrying around.”
“I told you how it was.”
“But you didn’t ask me what I wanted.”
“It’s not my job to ask you. It’s my job to keep you safe and it’s your job to follow what I say.”
“That’s a crock of shit.”
“Watch your language.”
“You watch yours,” she retorted.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?”
She had no idea, but she was gloriously, furiously mad, and she wasn’t going to take this anymore.
“Nothing that shouldn’t have been there all along.”
“Pack everything. We’re getting out of here.”
“You pack up your things and leave.”
Caden looked around the small house. “You can’t seriously want to stay here.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to abandon my business.”
“What business?”
“I have a bakery.” She waved her hand around the kitchen.
“A few loaves of bread for the locals?” The way he scoffed just grated on her nerves.
She wanted to go move that hutch, rip up the floorboards where she kept her emergency money and show him just how little her business wasn’t. Instead, she gritted her teeth.
“The money that you left for me is in the bank.”
“You didn’t spend it?”
“Some of it, but I paid it back and it’s there waiting for you.”
“Can’t get it without your signature.”
She shook her head. “All you’ve got to do is walk in and tell them you’re my husband and you can have anything you want.”
The shock in his expression soothed a little of her anger.
“What the hell makes you think I would do that?”
“I don’t know, but it grates the hell out of me that you could. That everything I’ve worked for my entire life could just vanish into your pocket. If you were a gambler I could lose it all with no say.”
“I don’t gamble.”
“And if you were a drunk you could just drink it away.”
“I don’t drink.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Not more than a beer or two.” He grabbed her forearms and gave her a little shake. “Maddie, are you crazy again, just in a different way?”
Yes, she was. Crazy mad at life, at the unfairness of it all, at the uncertainty of knowing that this business she’d started, that this identity she’d developed could just disappear on his whim. It drove her crazy. It made her crazy. She wanted to be safe, and nothing in the law provided that she would be. But she couldn’t expect Caden to understand that. The advantage was all on his side, and only a fool would give up that advantage. Caden Miller was no fool.
“No. I’m not.”
“You couldn’t prove it by me.”
“Do I need to?”
On a muttered curse, Caden turned on his heel and slammed out the back door. Maddie leaned against the counter and put her hand against her pounding chest and breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t have any doubt that he’d be back, but a day’s reprieve would be nice. Running her shaking fingers through her hair, she went to the sink and quickly washed her hands. The dough she’d left earlier to rise was almost past the point of no return. She quickly punched it down, flopping it onto the board and rolling it out. Before she was on the fourth pass, Caden was back, his saddlebags slung over his shoulder, his rifles in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Unpacking.”
“I thought you were going to the hotel.”
“So did I.”
He stopped in the living room and looked around for a door. “Where’s the bedroom?”
“You’re standing in it.”
“Where do you sleep?”
She looked at the couch.
“Son of a bitch.”
He dropped his gear on the floor.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t like it.”
“I’m staying, Maddie.”
She wanted to scream. “Why? There isn’t even a bed.”
“Because this is where you are, and I promised to cleave unto you, forsaking all others.” He looked around the tiny house again. “It’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable cleaving, though, in a hotel room with a nice big bed and a hip bath.”
The bath did sound nice.
“There’s a swimming hole just out of town.”
He stopped and looked at her. “You saying I stink?”
He didn’t. There was a slight scent of sweat about him, but mostly he smelled the way he always did, of man and good things.
She shook her head.
“I just thought you might be hot.”
“I am. Maybe after dinner you and I’ll go down and sample it.”
She shook her head. She remembered all too clearly what happened last time they’d “cooled off.” “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Caden, I bake until I go to bed, and when I get up in the morning I start again.”
“Why?”
What was the point of telling him? What was the point of not?
She waited too long.
He made a slashing motion with his hand. “I don’t want to hear it anyway.” He came into the kitchen. “Do we have anything here to eat?”
She handed him a cinnamon roll. He looked at it and sneered.
“You give all your beaus cinnamon rolls?”
She took it back. “Only the ones I like.”
He looked a little stunned. Good.
“Do you want some or not?”
“How many did Culbart have?”
“Four.”
“I’ll take five.”
She put five on a plate and handed it to him, then poured him a cup of coffee. “After you finish that, you can either make yourself useful or leave. I have orders to fill.”
The regulars were arriving at the front door with their usual commotion. “And I’m already behind.”
“Hey, sweet cheeks, I’m here for my sugar!”
Caden’s head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice coming from the alley. “What the hell was that?”
She groaned. Rowdy Rod. This would be the day he decided to show up.
“Hey, sweet thing,” he yelled again. “Come bring me some sugar.”
Caden’s voice got very quiet. “You serving more than cinnamon buns?”
That hurt way down deep. Maddie’s chin came up and she folded her arms across her chest. “Go to hell.”
Caden looked at the sofa in the living room. “I think I’m already there.”
“It’s very comfortable.” That was an outright lie.
Caden stared at her for the longest time, shook his head and swore.
Rodney called out again. She heard someone in the crowd tell him to shut his ass up. It was going to be an ugly morning, maybe because of the heat, but when Caden hit the front door, it got uglier fast.
She ran after him. She couldn’t afford for him to alienate her customers. Caden burst out the door and grabbed Rod by the throat, lifting him off his feet. Rodney wasn’t a small man. Neither was Caden, and Caden was pissed. He kept walking with Rod dangling in his grip until he slammed him up against a tree. Rodney gasped and kicked. Caden didn’t budge.
“Did you have something you want to say to my wife, mister?”
Rodney’s eyes bulged farther as he shook his head. Caden still didn’t let him go.
“You say one more disrespectful thing to her, or you even look at her disrespectful, and I’ll rip off those balls that you’re so proud of and shove ’em down your throat. Do we understand each other?”
The man nodded. Caden looked around at the crowd by the door. Maddie had the impression he was surprised by the numbers. There were at least twenty people waiting to buy her baking.
“That goes for the rest of you, too.”
“Hell, mister, you’re not going to get any complaint from us. Rowdy’s had that coming for a long time.”
“Sure enough that’s the truth.”
“We just want our cinnamon buns.”
“And bread. I need two loaves of sourdough.”
“Miss Maddie,” Anna Lee called. “I need a dozen of the pull-apart rolls for Sunday dinner.”
Orders started flowing from all around. Maddie held up her hand. “Hold on a minute. Let me get my pencil and I’ll be right back. I’m a little behind today.”
One of the women looked at Caden from head to toe, her eyes caressing him like a touch. “Easy enough to see why, honey.”
It was Hester, one of the local soiled doves who had a penchant for cinnamon rolls.
“Heck,” she continued, “if that’d be my husband, I wouldn’t even be answering the door this morning.”
Caden looked at the crowd, at Maddie and shook his head as if he didn’t understand it all, and maybe he didn’t. He’d gone away and left a terrified, cowering bride, and he came back to a businesswoman. But desperate people did desperate things, sometimes stupid, sometimes smart. She had been smart.
People walked up to Caden and started shaking his hand, welcoming him to town, telling him what a good baker Maddie was and what a lucky man he was. One older gentleman with a paunch that hung over his belt patted it and warned Caden in a few years he’d be looking like him with a wife who could bake like that. Caden laughed, but she could tell he was still mad. She could have called out and saved him, but she didn’t. She wanted a few minutes of peace.
When Caden came inside fifteen minutes later, all he said was, “You were busy when I was gone.”
She nodded, poured him fresh coffee and started stacking the bowls that needed to be washed for the next round of ingredients over by the basin.
He picked up a cloth and went to the sink and started filling it again.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do. Consider it an apology.”
“For what?”
“For what I said.”
“You didn’t say anything more than the truth.”
“Shit. It’s going to take me a while to live that one down, isn’t it?”
“Nothing to live down. It’s how you see me.”
“The hell it is.”
Someone knocked at the door. It was Mrs. Petittot for her cinnamon bread. Maddie quickly brought it over. Caden watched with a strange expression on his face, as if he’d never seen her before, but there was nothing in that expression to say whether he liked what he saw. Many men—most men, she had to admit—didn’t like their wives working or earning money; they saw it as a shadow on their manhood
He finished the dishes. There really wasn’t anything else for him to do, and quite frankly, everywhere he stood he was in her way. She had a system and he was in the middle of it. After the fourth time she bumped into him, he stepped out of the kitchen and grabbed his hat.
“I’m going to go up to the saloon.”
She ignored the panicked flutter inside that said loose women were in the saloon, and nodded.
“Thank you.”
“What time will you be done here?”
“I usually stop for dinner at five.”
“I’ll be here at five, then.”
She forced a smile. “All right.”
“We’re going to talk, you know.”
She nodded again. But not any sooner than she had to, she said to herself.
He stopped at the door and looked back.
“Did you really think I wasn’t coming back for you, Maddie?”
She shrugged. “I couldn’t take the chance.”
He left then, slamming the door shut behind him. She had the oddest feeling she’d just hurt his feelings.
* * *
AS SOON AS CADEN entered the saloon, he noticed Ace at a table in the corner. Caden snagged the whiskey bottle off the counter as he passed. The owner complained, but Caden tossed the man a coin that would more than cover the cost. The bartender slapped another bottle in its place. Farther down the bar, Caden grabbed two glasses. When he reached the table, he set one in front of Ace and one in front of himself.
“I take it from this—” Ace motioned to the bottle and glasses “—your reunion with Maddie didn’t go too well.”
“She started a business.”
“From what I heard, quite a successful one. She’s got a nice little deposit over at the bank.”
Caden growled in his throat.
“What?” Ace argued. “That’s resourceful on her part.”
“It was unnecessary.” Caden poured the whiskey into the glasses and slammed his shot back. Ace sipped his more slowly.
“Maybe from your point of view.”
“Who else’s point of view matters?”
“Hers.”
“My wife does not have to work.”
“Maybe not, but your wife wants to.”
“How the hell do you know?”
“If she really thought you weren’t coming back and she really didn’t want to work, she’d bat those big green eyes at that fat banker in town and have him cover her bills for her.”
“Shut up and drink your whiskey.”
“Why? You don’t like hearing the truth?”
“No.”
“What truth don’t you want to hear?” Ace asked. “That you have a wife clever enough to come up with a business idea, who’s more than capable of supporting herself? Or that you fucked it up so badly your own wife thought you weren’t coming back for her?”
Caden tightened his fingers around the glass.
“You say it’s not my business, but since you sat at my table and started chewing on my ear, I figure I’m going to make it so. Why do you think that is?”
“Because you think I’m like my father.”
“For Christ’s sake.” Ace slammed back his shot and held the glass out for more. “You’re no more your father than I’m my mother.”
“You didn’t know him.”
“I knew him. We all knew him. He was outwardly charming and completely irresponsible. He spent more time in the bar than he did at home. He had women everywhere, and he liked to pretend that he was chasing gold when the only gold he ever found was between some loose woman’s thighs.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your father was a rounder, Caden. I’m not saying he didn’t love you, but he was an out-and-out rounder.”
“He loved me and he loved my mother.”
“Yeah, he did. But he was lousy at the day-to-day part of it. He couldn’t handle responsibility. The responsibility of being a dad and a husband. He’d rather play cards than put food on the table. He’d rather chase rainbows than be there with you. It didn’t mean he didn’t love you, but he sure as shit wasn’t r
eliable.”
“Who says?”
“Everyone says. Everyone knew. Even you if you think about it. Why the hell do you think you’re so worried about being like him?”
Caden shook his head.
“He was your father and you loved him and you should’ve and that’s the way it is. But you grew up differently and you are different and if you’d stop fucking around trying to fulfill a promise to him that he probably didn’t even mean, your wife wouldn’t be over there building her business.”
“She’s proud of it.”
“Of course she’s proud of it. Who wouldn’t be proud of it? Hell, I’d be proud of it if I’d made it happen. Why the hell does that make you so mad?”
“I don’t know, but it does.”
“Then maybe you’d better chew on the why of that before you head on over there to chat with your wife again. She did what she thought she needed to do. She didn’t lie on her back and spread her legs. She didn’t rely on a man. She used her brain and her skills and she created a legitimate business to support herself when she thought you weren’t coming back. Now, if it bothers you that your wife doesn’t have any faith in you, then I suggest you look at just what the hell you’ve done to make her lose it. But ranting and raving about how you’re like your dad? That’s just bullshit and it’s not going to serve either of you.”
“Anybody ever tell you, you talk too much?”
“Anybody ever tell you, you don’t talk enough? You hold everything inside and think your actions speak for you. Well, they don’t. For as long as I can remember, for more than half the time I’ve known you, I haven’t known why you do whatever the hell it is you’re doing. I just take it on faith it’s for a good reason. Your wife hasn’t even known you a year and she depends on you a hell of a lot more than I do, and you seem to think she ought to be able to figure it out. Well, it’s not going to happen, Caden. Sitting here drinking whiskey isn’t going to solve your problems any more than standing at that house and screaming like a madman—”
“What the hell do you know about that?”
“Everybody knows. It’s all over town that Maddie Miller’s husband came home and he’s pissed as hell at her and that is a damn shame, Caden, because somebody’s going to tell her that, too. And it hurts when you love someone and they’re not proud of what you accomplish.”
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