Devils on Horseback: Lee, Book 4

by Beth Williamson

“No.”

  She frowned and tried to peer into the depths of the mill. “Is she coming back soon?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “I have some business to talk with her about.” She scrunched the bonnet in her hands as she waited for Lee to respond.

  He didn’t know why he was being rude. The woman had been polite and it wasn’t her fault that her voice did strange things to him. That didn’t stop him from being an ass, apparently. Lee brought his mother’s face to mind and tried to remember to be a gentleman, at least for his mama’s memory.

  “She and Jake went to the doc’s. You can wait for her there.” Now that was a good suggestion. If he were lucky, she’d take it.

  “No, I can’t do that. I’ll be right back.” She went back out the door and Lee wondered what she was doing.

  When she came back inside with the little girl, he almost choked on his own spit. He wasn’t good around children, never was and likely never would be.

  “My daughter and I will wait here for Gabby.”

  The girl took after her mother a bit, but in an awkward knobby-kneed, buck-toothed way. Her hair was in two braids, but it was so thick, there were pieces sticking out every which way. She looked around the room, then at him and what was left of his arm.

  “Mama, that’s the man who could shoot real good.”

  Now the girl had surprised him too. He hadn’t even remembered the shooting contest at the Founder’s Day celebration. Too many things had happened since then, but she obviously remembered him.

  The woman’s worried gaze dropped to his hips, likely expecting a gun to be hanging there. He almost snorted at the thought. It had been a long time since he carried a pistol every day.

  “Hush. Don’t be rude now.” She nodded at him. “I’m Genevieve Blanchard, and this is my daughter, Sophie.”

  Lee stared at her, consistently surprised by how much her voice affected him. If she had decided to be a whore, the men wouldn’t care what she looked like as long as she talked to them in bed. Not only that but she had a fancy French name too. Jesus, it was unnerving.

  When she turned away to stand near the door, he realized he hadn’t introduced himself because he’d been staring at the woman like a fool.

  “Sorry, ma’am, my mind wandered there. I’m Lee Blackwood.”

  Genevieve reached out to shake his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Blackwood.” Her grip was as strong as expected for a woman who looked like she worked hard.

  Lee didn’t know what to make of this woman. She was as plain as prairie grass, but she had bits and pieces that were extraordinary. All of it put together made him want to know more and at the same time, run the other direction.

  “You can come sit in the kitchen if you’d like. I just made a fresh pot of coffee.” Now his mouth had taken over and invited her in. Just like that. Damn fool tongue had apparently made his decision already.

  She stared at him for a few beats, peering into his eyes as if she could see into his soul and determine if he was lying. “I’d be much obliged. The ride in was long and dusty.”

  Lee turned and walked toward the kitchen in the back right corner of the mill. It was the only living quarters downstairs and had a homey feel to it. The morning sun had warmed it up nicely and the smell of coffee permeated the air. It felt like a home to him, something he hadn’t experienced in some time.

  Too bad it wasn’t his home.

  The kitchen was as neat as a pin. Gabby was amazing—running a mill and keeping the house in order was no small task. The oblong table was covered in a green cloth Jake had given her for Christmas. Lee gestured to the woman and the girl.

  “Please go ahead and sit. I can probably rustle up some milk for your daughter.”

  For the last few months, Gabby had been on a milk binge. In fact, every other day, they got a milk delivery from a farmer just outside of town in exchange for one five-pound bag of flour a week. Jake had built a small milk shed right outside the back door. He’d diverted some of the river water into the bottom of the shed. The cold water then surrounded a metal tub where the milk cans sat. Ingenious really, and it kept the milk nice and cold.

  Lee had never been one to drink milk much, but having it cold made a difference. Of course he only drank it around Jake and Gabby. Grown men just didn’t drink it like a baby. As he poured a glass, he considered taking a sip, but didn’t want a milk mustache or anything. The woman and her daughter were already watching him, he didn’t need to give them more ammunition.

  By the time he stepped back into the kitchen, he felt calmer. He wasn’t used to strangers, and he sure as hell didn’t like to be around them more than absolutely necessary. Genevieve was sitting at the table talking quietly to the girl, who had her lower lip stuck out. He wondered what had set wrong with the little one, but not enough to task. It was bad enough he’d let them in and offered them a drink. He didn’t need to know anything else about the child.

  He set the milk down and stepped toward the stove. “It’ll just take a minute to get the coffee.”

  “I already did.”

  Lee turned and saw two twin mugs of steaming coffee on the table. That was something he hadn’t expected at all.

  “I’m used to doing chores and it didn’t seem right to make you wait on us, seeing as how we’re waiting on Gabby.” Genevieve shrugged. “I appreciate your hospitality.”

  “So is it because I would have had to make two trips to bring the coffee to the table?” As soon as the words left his mouth like a black cloud, Lee could have kicked himself.

  She blinked twice before she spoke. “I hadn’t thought about it. I was just doing what I always do.”

  Hidden behind her brown eyes he spotted a wary honesty. Sometimes he let his mouth loose and it made him look like a huge ass. This was no exception.

  “You could use a tray to carry things.” Genevieve pulled a cup toward her. “That way you don’t need to make two trips.”

  Lee opened his mouth to speak then closed it again. She was right, of course, but the idea of using a tray had never occurred to him. Losing his left arm was not new, more than two years ago now, yet he still woke up at least once a week with an itch he could never scratch.

  “I reckon you’re right.” He sat down with a thump across from her, cursing himself for having such a short fuse. He’d always had a problem keeping it under control, and losing his arm made it worse. His friends were the only ones who tolerated his outbursts, and sometimes they lost patience with him.

  Lee picked up the cup and glanced at her. “Thanks.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  He should have been a bit more gracious, but he didn’t even know her. Gabby would kick his ass if she knew how he was behaving.

  “Are you from around here?” There, that was polite.

  She stopped, cup halfway to her mouth. Her lips were a deep shade of pink like the roses old Hettie grew outside her house in town. Just another feature of Genevieve that set him off balance.

  “No, not originally.” Her accent was smooth, almost melodic.

  Lee focused on trying to remember where he’d heard it, because it for damn sure wasn’t a Texas accent.

  “We live on a farm and we don’t need no man to help us.” Sophie glared at him from over the top of the glass of milk, a white mustache sitting above her lips.

  “I wasn’t offering,” he shot back.

  If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn Genevieve smiled behind her coffee cup.

  “Mind your manners, Sophie. We’re here to see Miss Gabby, not Mr. Blackwood.” When she leaned down to speak to her daughter, a curl sprang free from her hair and swung back and forth against her cheek.

  Lee almost choked on his coffee when the urge to feel that curl raced through him. He covered his idiocy by clearing his throat and willing away th
e wayward thoughts.

  He grasped at any topic of conversation to distract him. “How do you know Gabby?”

  “My husband always brought the wheat crop to the mill.” Genevieve returned her focus to him.

  Good thing she had a husband, made things a bit less stressful for Lee.

  “Gabby was always here and since we’re about the same age, we visited when Henry and me came to town.” Her finger circled the rim of the coffee cup and Lee couldn’t help but notice the nails were clean and short, the fingers long and supple. He was startled to note there was no wedding ring on her left hand. Damn.

  “Where’s your husband now?” He was embarrassed to realize his voice broke on the last word. Hell, he was an idiot asking a question he had no business asking.

  “He died.” She glanced at Sophie with affection evident on her face. “Almost six months ago.”

  This time when her gaze met his, Lee felt a spark jump between them and the air grew heavier. Genevieve was a naturally sensual woman. For reasons he didn’t want to contemplate, he was attracted to her. If he didn’t know better, he might also believe she was attracted to him. Unlike her daughter, who was still shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Oh how he lied.

  “Thank you. Henry was, uh, well, he gave me Sophie and a farm to run.” Genevieve let out a short laugh without much humor. “That’s what I need to talk to Gabby about. I need a man.”

  Lee’s mind raced with various images of what Genevieve would look like nude on his bed. Shit, he was already getting hard. What the hell was wrong with him? It was no business of his who climbed into her bed or why she needed a man.

  When he heard footsteps on the porch, he jumped out of his chair, startling Genevieve and Sophie. “I’ll be right back.”

  Lee exploded out the door and slammed into Jake. The redheaded man grabbed Lee’s shoulders as he fell forward, stopping him from landing face first on the porch.

  “Jesus Christ. What are you doing?” Jake steadied both of them before letting go of Lee.

  Gabby stepped up beside them with both eyebrows raised. “Are you both all right?” Her long wavy black hair was in a fat braid lying over one shoulder while her hand rested on her stomach.

  “I’m fine, but Lee looks like he saw a ghost.” Jake smiled and patted Lee’s shoulder.

  “There’s a woman in there waiting for you. She needs a man and I need to get some air.” Lee pushed past them and headed to the waterwheel. He wasn’t kidding when he said he needed air. Just the thought of being with a woman, with Genevieve, made him break out in a sweat and get lightheaded.

  The sound of the river rushing past the mill called to him. Lee continued on toward the bank and breathing room. Perhaps when he returned, the woman who’d knocked him sideways would be gone.

  * * * * *

  “She needs help.”

  Lee looked up from the accounting ledger at Gabby. She leaned against the doorframe, a frown on her face.

  “Who?”

  “You know who. Genevieve Blanchard.” She stepped into the room and sat across from him at the table. “Her husband died a few months ago, after he got the crops planted. She thought she could handle the farm alone, with a seven-year-old child to help, but now that it’s nearly time to bring the wheat in, she’s finally asking for help.”

  Lee didn’t want to talk about Genevieve. The woman had set him off balance the entire time she was at the mill. God only knew how odd things would have gotten if Gabby and Jake hadn’t arrived home. All he wanted to know was that he didn’t have to be around her any longer. Her voice still echoed in his head, dammit.

  “I want you to help her.”

  Gabby’s words fell like a boulder in a still pond, the ripples fanning outward getting larger and larger. Lee’s mouth fell open as he stared at her, wondering if maybe he was dreaming.

  “What?”

  “I agree with her.” Jake stepped into the room and for once, did not have a smile on his freckled face. It was an unusual occurrence to see him without that smile, which sent a chill up Lee’s spine.

  “Have you two gone loco? I can’t help her.” He raised what remained of his left arm. “Remember this? Cripples can’t be farmers.”

  “Lee, you are the perfect person to help her.” Gabby reached for his hand, but he dropped the pencil and pulled back before she touched him.

  Panic bubbled in his stomach as Lee realized Jake and Gabby were serious. “I can’t do shit on a farm. Jesus, I couldn’t even wash the damn dishes at the restaurant.”

  “Those are your own perceptions, not what you can do if you put your mind to it.” Gabby appeared to have lost all reasonable sense. “With effort, you can do anything. Look, you’re a strong man with a strong back and damn smart too.”

  Lee snorted. “Jake, your wife is crazy.”

  “No, she’s not. If you’d stop hiding behind that stump, you’d realize she’s right.” Jake didn’t normally sound harsh or angry, but this time Lee heard both emotions in his friend’s tone. “We took you in because you needed a place to be away from the restaurant and we respected that. It’s been almost six months and it’s time to move on, to discover what you can do. Hell, you didn’t even know you could balance accounts until a year ago.”

  Lee surely didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading. He stood, pushing the chair back so hard it fell with a crash. “I can’t be a farmhand and that’s that. Stop harping on me and you sure as hell better stop judging me.”

  “We’re not judging you, Lee.” Gabby looked up at him, sincerity in her voice even he couldn’t dismiss. “We’re trying to help two people at once.”

  Oh, he knew who the two people were, he just didn’t want to hear it. Genevieve Blanchard was dangerous, and her daughter was likely a little hellion. No way he’d want to help them even with two arms. “There has to be someone else in town to help her.”

  “Who? You know perfectly well the men who live in Tanger. Most of them are old or can’t possibly leave their jobs to help her. Zeke is the sheriff, Gideon runs the only restaurant, Richard runs the bank, Matthew the store, and Martin is the only blacksmith in fifty miles. There is no one else unless we trust a cowboy from one of the outlying ranches, which is like handing her and Sophie to a wolf.”

  Damn. She was right about that—Tanger had a very small population of men who were reliable and honest, not to mention under the age of sixty. The cowhands were a transient bunch, moving in and out with the seasons. Not a one of them was worth a spit.

  “Don’t make me do this,” popped out of Lee’s mouth. He beat back the urge to plead—no way he’d allow that to happen.

  “We won’t make you do anything.” Jake sat beside Gabby and glanced at her. “But there’s something we need to tell you.”

  Lee’s heart thumped loud enough to make blood whoosh past his ears. Whatever they were going to tell him, it wasn’t going to be good. He was already in a mood to get the hell out of there permanently. But where would he go? He couldn’t go back to the restaurant. Zeke and Naomi lived above the sheriff’s office in one little room. Richard might let him stay at his house, but Lee didn’t want to accept his friend’s charity. He was trapped by his own inability to be a man and find his path in the world.

  “Out with it so I can decide whether or not to run.”

  Jake smiled. “It’s not bad news.” He leaned over and planted a loud kiss on Gabby’s cheek. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  Chapter Two

  Genevieve unhooked the horse’s traces while she mulled over her conversation with Gabby. Relief had mixed with shame when she accepted her friend’s offer to find a man to help her with the harvest and the other chores around the farm. Sophie didn’t speak a word on the way home—the girl had far too much sass in her already, or perhaps the half a dozen peppermints in he
r hand kept her quiet. Later on Genny would have a talk with her daughter about her runaway mouth.

  Henry would not have allowed either of them to talk back without a slap upside the head. Since he passed, Sophie had been like a mini tornado let loose on the world, wild, untamed and unstoppable. Genny knew she should yank in the reins on her daughter, but after living under Henry’s firm hand for almost eight years, the taste of freedom was very sweet for both of them.

  He had left the farm in dire straits and Genny felt every painful second of every day as the harvest time grew closer. If they didn’t bring in the crop, there would be no money for the winter. If he hadn’t been such a lousy husband and farmer, the farm might have been in better shape. However, Henry was a foolish man with a penchant for poker and a lazy streak a mile wide. Genny was glad he was gone, even if it was wrong to speak ill of the dead. It was too bad her husband hadn’t been like Lee Blackwood.

  Henry had nothing in common with the stranger. Genny mentally catalogued the two of them and Henry sure came up wanting, even if Lee was missing an arm. He was handsome as sin, with chocolate brown eyes topped by lashes longer than any man should have. His shoulders and chest certainly marked him as a man who worked, as did the calluses on his hand.

  Genny sighed. Why did her foolish mind keep circling back to Lee? She didn’t need a man in her life, that was for certain, except for help around the farm. Yet his behavior had taken her aback, not an easy task for someone with her background. The man had one arm and he seemed to act as if he were not only angry about it, but wanted to let everyone know. The fact she’d surprised him by serving coffee was also a bit odd.

  He was different, intriguing and dangerous, not to mention sinfully sexy. A combination Genny desperately needed to avoid.

  So why in the world was she still thinking about him? Because she was aroused, that’s why. He stirred her lust like a blond god, enough to make her damp between her thighs. Another momentous feat considering Genny had never liked sex with Henry. He was as selfish and boorish about that as he was about everything else. He made sex into a chore Genny tried to avoid as much as possible. She’d discovered ways to pleasure herself instead, given her wealth of knowledge learned in her less-than-normal childhood home.