The Devil's Daughter

by Laura Drewry

  It was a life Jed wanted no part of. He’d always pictured himself married to a gentle woman, settled down on a big beautiful ranch somewhere with a whole passel of kids.

  Yet suddenly he was married to a woman he knew nothing about, living on a parched piece of land that showed little to no promise at this point. He might never have love in his marriage, but he damn well would be respected.

  And if he had any hope of earning Lucy’s respect, he needed to prove he was interested in more than just her body. But that body. . . .

  He followed the familiar path worn down by his many trips to the creek. Odd-shaped prickly pear cacti grew along the way, but his favorite was the one shaped like a hand. Its five elongated, flat pads seemed more like green fingers pointing toward the sky, and each tip – or fingernail – boasted a single yellow bloom, except for the fourth finger, which had yet to bloom at all.

  When he reached the creek, Jed knelt and splashed his face with the cool clean water. This creek was one of the main reasons he’d bought the parcel in the first place. About eight feet across and four feet at its deepest, it ran diagonally across his property and, according to the previous owner, had never once run dry, nor had it ever overflowed its banks. That was good enough for Jed.

  He filled the buckets, took a long steadying breath, and started back to the house and his new wife. The sun hung above the horizon, leaving the sky awash in winding ribbons of red and pink. Wouldn’t be long ‘til night set in.

  One more day Maggie had survived without Sam; one more day she’d carried that baby; one more day she teetered closer to the brink of madness.

  Lucy sat on the blanket, facing the fire, seemingly lost in thought. The light from the flames danced across her face, casting odd shadows one second, then illuminating the next. He’d give almost anything to know what she was thinking.

  He set the buckets beside the fire, took another deep breath, and lowered himself to the blanket beside her, his legs stretched out in front.

  “I made coffee,” she said. “I think.”

  “You think?” His mouth had already begun to water at the mere mention of the word. Funny how he hadn’t smelled it brewing, though. It was usually a scent he could pick up a mile out.

  Lucy nodded toward the small pot of boiling water. “I’ve never made it before, so I just guessed.”

  Jed cringed. Coffee was like liquid gold to him. He cherished every cup, savored every drop. But he could tell from where he sat that what she’d made wasn’t coffee. The brew was little more than dirty water – cooked in an open pot no less!

  And why the hell were the beans floating in it?

  He didn’t want to taste it, and he sure as hell didn’t want to down a whole mug. But Lucy had gone to the trouble of making it, so the least he could do was drink it, even if it killed him.

  The first sip sat on his tongue a long time before he mustered the will to swallow.

  Eyes wide, almost hopeful, she watched his throat until he’d swallowed completely. “How is it?”

  God-awful.

  “It’s fine,” he answered. He took another sip, then tried to spit the beans out as discreetly as he could.

  “Fine.” The word fell from Lucy’s tongue like a rock. “Just like supper was fine.”

  He couldn’t help laughing, seeing her sitting there in her ripped dress, her long silky hair hanging in tangles around her shoulders, and her boots covered in dust and buffalo dung.

  She was a far cry from the woman he’d met earlier that day. Of course, if she’d had any idea what kind of life she was in for, Jed would’ve bet his entire spread she’d have high-tailed it outta that auction faster than he could spit.

  “First thing tomorrow,” he said. “I’ll teach you how to make coffee. But for now, this is just fine.”

  “Fine,” she repeated with a disheartened grunt. “I’m so sick of that word.”

  Jed stared into the fire a moment longer, choked back the rest of his coffee, then refilled his mug.

  “You don’t have to--” Lucy began.

  “I want to.” With a quick wink in her direction, he lay back on the blanket, hands cupped beneath his head, the mug set on the ground beside him. “Has Maggie come out yet?”

  “No, but I saw her peeking out the window a few times.”

  Jed exhaled a long breath. What was he going to do with her?

  “She’ll be fine,” Lucy said matter-of-factly. “I imagine it’s difficult for her to have a strange woman show up unannounced.”

  She was probably right; all Maggie needed was a little time to get used to the idea of having Lucy around.

  One thing at a time, that was all Jed could do. If he could get comfortable around Lucy, maybe Maggie would follow his lead. Maybe it would help her understand that they all wanted the best for her and the baby.

  He leaned up on his elbow, took a long drink of the coffee swill, and watched Lucy’s expression as the light from the flames licked and danced across her face.

  “Tell me about yourself, Lucy.” Even as he spoke the words, he wished he could take them back. Did he want to know about her past, the details behind the scars on her hands, or about any other men she may have sat under the stars with?

  It took her a while to answer, almost as if she was trying to decide what she should say. Or perhaps what she shouldn’t. After a while, she turned to him and shrugged.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything.” He tried to smile, but it took too much energy. “If we’re going to be husband and wife, we should probably get to know each other.”

  “Okay.” She tipped her head a bit and looked down at him, her green eyes smoldering like fiery emeralds. “But we don’t have to talk to get to know each other. We can learn all we need by just--”

  Jed sat bolt up. “No.” He took a few deep breaths before looking at her.

  A small pout pushed at her bottom lip. “You’re so stubborn--”

  “Me?” he choked. “You’re the one. . .you. . .what are you. . .?”

  Lucy crept closer until she knelt directly in front of him. Jed tried to scramble back, but she pulled his hat off and tossed it aside, then slid her fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp and tickling the skin behind his ears.

  A soft moan floated around them. From him?

  “There,” Lucy cooed. “Isn’t this better?”

  Why couldn’t he swallow? Her fingers were like magic, making all coherent thought vanish.

  “Lucy. . .I don’t think. . .”

  “Shh.” Instead of silencing him with her finger, as he’d done to her earlier, she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him closer. What the hell--?

  He swallowed hard, his throat as dry as the ground beneath him. Her face hovered closer, her calloused palms cool against his cheeks.

  Sweet Jesus.

  She was like velvet against his mouth, her lips soft, full, and open to him. She intoxicated him with her scent, her touch, her taste.

  He should stop this. He should set her back and try to once again to make her understand that they needed to be practical.

  He sure as hell shouldn’t be pulling her closer or moaning when her tongue met his. That wasn’t practical at all. But hell if he could stop himself.

  Cradling her in his arms, he lowered her to the blanket, then braced his elbows on either side of her, their bodies barely touching. He brushed his mouth over hers, just enough to tease, just long enough for her fingers to find his hair again. Then he took the kiss deeper, longer.

  He teased her lips open with the tip of his tongue, then traced the edges of her teeth, pausing only when she whimpered beneath him.

  Light from the fire flickered softly across her face, revealing eyes, heavy with desire, and cheeks reddened from his stubbled beard.

  He was lost. Somewhere in the ten minutes between that first cup of swill she called coffee and her fingers sliding through his hair, he’d dismissed his entire plan.

  But how could he re
fuse her now? She’d gone from a silk dress and fancy slippers to buffalo chips and dirt – all for him. And as much as he knew he should walk away from her, he also knew there wasn’t a man alive who had that kind of strength.

  Lifting her head off the blanket, he used his left hand as a pillow, then eased her back down. Her lips parted, inviting him to another taste. And like a man starved, he indulged. Then went back for more. Her long slender fingers slid over his shoulders, down his arms, then back to his hair, keeping him close, not giving him a chance to escape – as though he could.

  Had he ever wanted another woman this much? Had he ever been so shameless in his need? No.

  No.

  Jed eased back just enough to look down at Lucy, her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair fanned out in a tousled mess.

  Damn it.

  Her brow furrowed, then eased, a look of disappointment falling across her beautiful, dirt-smudged face.

  “Jed?” Her breathy voice, filled with confusion, whispered against his skin.

  If he had any sense at all, he’d see her into the house for the night. Problem was, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go yet. He rolled onto his back and pulled her up beside him, settling her head on his shoulder, while his other arm pillowed the back of his head.

  “Maggie might see us.”

  A low sigh was her only response.

  They stared up at the stars for a long time, Jed’s heart thundering beneath her ear, his fingers drawn to her skin like bees to flowers. He traced the length of her arm with slow strokes, wondering how long he’d have to wait before he could trust himself to kiss her again.

  The neglected fire simmered in the silence. Wouldn’t be long before it went out completely, and with it, the last of their light. Then he’d have only the memory of her desire – and the heat of his own - to keep him warm.

  “Maggie’s not going to let me sleep in there,” Lucy whispered into the night.

  Maggie. Shame coursed through Jed like a flash flood. He should be thinking about Maggie, not his own urges.

  “Of course she will.” Easy to say, another thing entirely to believe. He eased Lucy away from him and stood, taking a moment to adjust his trousers before walking toward the house.

  “Maggie.” He rapped his knuckles on the door and waited. And waited.

  From behind the door came the muted sounds of shuffling feet and whimpers.

  “Maggie.” He opened the door and stepped inside. His sister-in-law didn’t look up as she paced the dirt floor in front of the bed. Only took her two or three steps before she had to turn and go the other way, and after watching her for about ten seconds, Jed was dizzy enough for the both of them.

  He stepped close enough to touch her arm. “Maggie.”

  She started, jerked back, then looked up. “Jedidiah,” she exclaimed. “How did you get in? I barred the door.”

  Jed cast a quick glance at the old Bible on the floor, then looked back at Maggie. When was he last time she’d washed her face or brushed her hair?

  He took her hand and led her to the table, then waited until she was seated before he sat across from her.

  “It’s getting late,” he said quietly.

  “Yes.” She nodded quickly, her gaze darting around the room, never settling on any one thing for more than a second.

  “Lucy needs to get ready for bed.”

  “No.” She smothered her belly with the length of her arms. “She’s not coming in here.”

  “Maggie. . .”

  “No!” Maggie pushed away from the table and began to pace again. “She’s evil, Jedidiah. Evil.”

  “No she’s not. She’s here to help.”

  Maggie shook her head with thunderous force. “No. You need to send her away before she makes you evil, too.”

  “I can’t send her away, Maggie. She’s my wife.”

  “She’s evil.” Her voice was little more than a harsh whisper. “If you let her in here, she’ll take my baby.”

  “Maggie.” Jed rose wearily and moved to take her hands, but she pulled away from him. “Nobody’s going to take your baby.”

  She continued to pace, continued shaking her head. “Sam will come back. He’ll make her go away.”

  It had been almost two weeks since Sam disappeared. The whole town believed him dead, everyone except Maggie. She clung to her husband’s memory as though it was her last thread of sanity.

  “You can’t make Lucy sleep out in the barn.”

  “Yes, I can,” Maggie hissed. “She’s an animal.”

  “Maggie. . .” Jed couldn’t say anything else. He’d never seen Maggie so upset, so crazed. Maybe Lucy would agree to the barn for one night. It’d probably mean he’d have to find a way to make it up to her, but at this point, what choice did he have?

  “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll set Lucy up in the barn tonight, but tomorrow she sleeps in here.”

  “No.” Maggie didn’t blink. “I won’t ever let her in here. I’ll keep the door barred.”

  When he opened his mouth to argue, she waggled her finger in his face. “I’ll kill her before I let her hurt my baby.”

  She really was crazy. The realization settled over Jed like an unbearable weight. What was he going to do with her? No one in such a state would be capable of raising a child.

  “I think we both need to get some rest,” he finally sighed. “We’ll talk some more tomorrow.”

  He gathered the items Lucy would need for the night and morning, then stepped out into the still night air, out to where Lucy sat waiting.

  Before Maggie shut the door behind him, she laid her hand on his shoulder and smiled up at him with the same sweet and gentle smile that had first attracted him to her so many years earlier.

  “Good night, Jed. Have a good sleep.”

  A second after the door closed, a soft thud signaled she’d barred the door. He didn’t move for a long time, just stood staring toward the fire, caught between two completely different women, both of whom he’d made promises to.

  It took him a while to gather his wits. His wife would not be happy about sleeping in the smelly, cold, barn, but –-

  Was she sleeping already? He strained to hear as he moved closer, quietly as possible. Sure enough, Lucy had curled up in the blanket, and lay snoring on the hard ground. There would be no argument about sleeping arrangements tonight.

  Thank you, God.

  He took the supplies into the barn and set them in a neat pile before returning to Lucy. With the blanket cocooned around her, head to toe, the only part not covered was her face, and still her lips had taken on a slight blue tinge. How could she possibly be so cold?

  After a long moment of staring down at her, he lifted her into his arms, careful not to wake her. Better to ask forgiveness in the morning than permission in the middle of the night.

  She’d be plenty mad when she realized where she’d slept, but he’d deal with that in the morning. Right now he was too damned tired to even think about it. All he wanted to do was get his wife into bed. Any bed.

  Of course, he hadn’t planned on sleeping in the same bed yet, but he couldn’t very well leave her out there on the hard ground. Surely he could manage one night of lying beside her; after all, they’d both be dressed. . .

  Dammit. Was he being punished for something? He didn’t want to want his wife so soon. He needed to be stronger. He would not be the man his father was.

  No matter how much effort it took, no matter how much Lucy fought him, and no matter how many dips in the creek he’d need to take – he would make this into a good marriage or die trying.

  With that thought lingering in his brain, Jed carried Lucy through the darkness of the barn and settled her on top of the lumpy pile of straw he’d been using as a mattress.

  What a contrast she was to Maggie; she so dark and headstrong, Maggie so fair and gentle. Like night and day.

  He tucked a second gray wool blanket up under Lucy’s chin and stood staring down at her for a few more min
utes, his brain waging war against every other part of him. It’d be so easy to take her back in his arms and make them man and wife in the most basic way.

  But life wasn’t meant to be easy – and Lucy was living proof of that. With her lying next to him, he’d never get any sleep, especially with her kiss still fresh in his mind. And still fresh on his lips.

  All these years he’d thought he wanted a woman like Maggie; one who wouldn’t argue with him at every turn, and who would make life easy and trouble-free. Who’d have thought he’d find himself married to a woman so completely opposite, or that his new wife would cause flickers of doubt to creep through him so soon?

  Maybe a quiet, gentle woman wasn’t what he wanted after all.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lucy’s first night as Mrs. Jedidiah Caine hadn’t exactly fulfilled her expectations.

  She should have woken up in her husband’s arms, after having spent the night securing at least part of his soul as her own. But he’d simply tucked her in to the hell he called a bed and turned his back to her.

  Waking up in the barn – the barn, for the love of Satan! – was not something she was terribly happy about, but at least Jed hadn’t left her outside on the cold hard ground.

  Memories of the night before flashed in her mind, the way Jed had looked at her with such hunger and confusion. And the way he’d kissed her. Lucy lifted her finger to her lips. She’d never been kissed like that before. Gentle yet strong. Slow yet intense - very, very intense.

  He could have taken her right there by the fire if he’d wanted to – and she was quite sure he’d wanted to. But instead, he’d stopped himself, and done the most confusing thing.

  He’d lain on that horrible blanket and pulled her close to his side, making sure she was comfortable even though he wasn’t.

  What purpose could that have served? She’d been ready and willing to do his bidding, but he’d refused her.

  Again.

  She wanted to laugh at his determination, to mock the way he fought so hard in a battle he was destined to lose. But she couldn’t. Jed Caine was turning out to be a complicated man whose single-minded resolve was infuriating.