Caden's Vow

by Sarah McCarty

  “How much did your mama say to give you?”

  She held up two fingers. Maddie gave her the coin.

  “And this is for you.” She handed her the bun. The little girl’s face lit up and she smiled, revealing two missing front teeth.

  Maddie wondered what it would be like to have a child of her own. She sighed and lifted her braid off the nape of her neck. She sighed. She needed to go back to the attorney she’d consulted with after the revelation at the bank. Before, she’d asked the lawyer all about her business, but she’d never asked him if she was truly married, and if she was, how did she get out of it because she couldn’t see giving up the independence she’d forged for herself the past few weeks to a man’s control. And if Caden came back, that was exactly what would happen. Everything would be his to dispose of as he willed, including her, and she couldn’t have that.

  She waited that whole day on pins and needles, anxiety eating at her appetite, even affecting her baking. Her bread wasn’t as light as it normally was. Nobody complained, but she knew and so did some of her customers based on the looks they gave her. When darkness fell and there was still no Caden, Maddie let out a sigh of relief and started to believe that maybe he wasn’t coming and all the things she worried about were not going to happen. But that night when she dreamed, it was of his hands on her face, his lips on hers, his whisper in her ear, and no matter how she tossed and turned every time she fell back asleep, she heard his promise and she cried.

  She wasn’t in a good mood when she got up the next morning, so when the knock came at the door extra early, it didn’t improve. Thinking it was Lissie, she grabbed the egg money and walked to the living room only to stop dead when the door opened. Frank Culbart. A different Frank than she remembered. He had shaved his beard. His hair was combed back and his clothes were clean. He still looked like a big bear and he still had that aggressive set to his shoulders, but when she looked into his eyes, she would have sworn she saw softness.

  “Maddie.”

  She wished her face wasn’t sweaty and her hair wasn’t sticking to her temples. She wished her hands weren’t coated in flour.

  “Frank.”

  “I heard you were in town.”

  “You heard I was?”

  He shrugged. “A pretty redhead named Maddie that bakes like a dream? Couldn’t be that many in the state.”

  She smiled. “You always did have a sweet tooth for my cinnamon rolls.”

  “I could go for one right now and a cup of coffee if you’ve got time.”

  She didn’t, but she’d make it. She considered telling him to go around back, but then she realized how that would look. She stepped back and let him in. She saw him wince at the heat in the house.

  “It’s the oven,” she explained. “I have to have it on all day to fill orders,” she explained. “But you’re welcome to come sit out back. There’s a nice shade tree.”

  He nodded. She led him through the house. He paused in the kitchen and looked at her organized chaos. His brow went up.

  “You’re doing well for yourself, then.”

  She nodded, not sure what he wanted. She stopped and poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him.

  “I’ll be right out with the cinnamon rolls. I have to take them out of the oven.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  She was starting to protest. He made her uncomfortable the way he watched her, but he was a guest in her house, and even in a whorehouse that had meaning.

  She pulled the cinnamon rolls out of the oven, whipped the icing, moved them to a plate and drizzled it over them. She scooped one up and handed it to him on a cloth so he wouldn’t burn his fingers. He smiled and polished it off as if it wasn’t piping hot, his expression melting in bliss.

  “I made a mistake marrying you off.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that an apology?”

  “More like regret. I should have kept you for myself.”

  “You’re not in love with me, Frank. You’re in love with somebody else.”

  “Don’t matter. It’s not like she’s going to bake me cinnamon rolls.”

  She smiled and shook her head at him. “Maybe if you let her see your sweet side.”

  He motioned for another roll; she motioned him out the door.

  “Go sit outside. I could use a break from this heat myself.”

  He grunted and went out. She put four rolls on a plate and followed him. One would be for her, the other three for him.

  She joined him with a coffee on the bench under the oak tree and handed him the rolls.

  “Aren’t you going to have any?”

  “Three is all you get.”

  “You usually give me four.”

  “You already ate one.”

  He sighed. “Things didn’t work out with that Caden fella, huh?”

  She shook her head.

  “You should have told us when we took you that you weren’t a working girl anymore.”

  “You were a scary bunch.”

  He looked away, and if she wasn’t mistaken, that was a hint of color on his cheekbones.

  “I never forced myself on a woman. It didn’t sit well, you almost having me force myself on you.”

  “Nobody forced you to do anything.”

  “I was drunk.”

  “You were sad and lonely.”

  He looked at her again. “You remind me of her.”

  “I do?”

  He nodded. “She doesn’t have your spirit, though.”

  “How can you say that?”

  “She wouldn’t leave her family to be with me.”

  “I wouldn’t leave a whorehouse to be free.”

  He raised his eyebrows at her. “Why not? Did you like it there?”

  “Oh, heavens, no.”

  “Then why didn’t you leave?”

  “Because it was terrifying not knowing what I would face if I left. I only knew those walls, those rules, and I believed they were as set as gospel.”

  He nodded.

  “Elsbeth lives a very comfortable life. She’s used to fancy things.”

  “And you don’t consider yourself fancy.” She didn’t make it a question and he didn’t pretend it was.

  He held up his hands, showing the calluses and the scars. Even though he’d obviously cleaned up for her, there was still a little dirt under the nails.

  “These aren’t the hands of a gentleman.”

  She took one hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. “But they’re honest hands that know honest work, and the woman that holds them wouldn’t be let down.”

  He looked down at her hand holding his. “You’re holding my hand.”

  She shook her head. “But I’m not the one you want.”

  “I can learn to make do.”

  She let go of his hand. “Are you proposing to me?”

  “Would you be interested?”

  She cocked her head to the side. As soon as Frank had realized that she wasn’t a willing participant, he’d kicked her out of his bed, kicked her out of his house, actually, he was so angry. Ten minutes later, he’d brought her back in and read her the riot act about not being honest with people and the dangers that can happen to a woman who played games. He’d scared her so much she’d retreated and that had scared him, too.

  He hadn’t known what to do with her so he’d declared her off-limits to his men and declared that she was his guest. She hadn’t been comfortable being his guest; owing a man meant being in his debt, and she didn’t want to work off any debts. So one day she’d made rolls, and it had grown from there. Over breakfast, coffee, lunch and dinner, she and Frank had formed a friendship, and one night when he was drunk, she’d learned about his Elsbeth, the woman he loved, the woman he saw as out of his reach. The woman for whom he was building his empire so he’d have enough money to offer her what he thought she wanted. She shook her head. And men thought women had strange notions.

  “You know, Frank,” she said, “you might be surprised i
f you go back and ask Elsbeth again.”

  “Nah, no reason for her to change her mind.”

  “Yes, there is. When you think what you want is always going to be there, you tend to take it for granted. But when it leaves—” she thought of the way Caden had left her here “—you start rethinking who you are and what you want and what you would do over.”

  “Sounds like experience talking.”

  She nodded. “I’ve got a lot of experience. What I don’t have is a lot of practice in making it make sense.”

  He ran his hand through his hair. The action separated the drying strands and they began to curl. She smiled. He truly was a decent man. Not the man for her, but a good man.

  “She could be married by now.”

  “She might not be.”

  “I might get my heart kicked through my teeth.”

  She nodded. “You might.”

  “You think I should go?”

  “I think I would rather know than not. It’s going to take you years to build up that ranch, years where you’ll be alone and she’ll be alone. Maybe you’re supposed to be, I don’t know. But if I had the chance that you do, I’d at least like to know.”

  He wiped his hands on his napkin and swilled down the last of his coffee. For all he was a nice man and she knew him well, he was still a gruff man. He hugged her tight. He smelled of cigarettes and musk and a slight tinge of sweat. It wasn’t a bad smell.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just hitch your wagon to mine?”

  She smiled, but it wasn’t the right smell, either. “You wouldn’t be happy. I’d just be a substitute for the one you wanted.”

  “I’d try.”

  She nodded. “I know. But I’d always know.”

  “There’s also the catch she’s already married,” a voice added in an all-too-familiar drawl.

  Caden.

  Maddie spun around. He stood in the doorway to the house looking out at them, his hand on the butt of his revolver, and he didn’t look happy.

  Damn.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  MADDIE JUMPED TO her feet, but Frank didn’t. He calmly finished his cinnamon roll and licked the icing from his fingers. Maddie’s breath caught in her throat and not for any of the reasons she expected. It didn’t seem possible, but she’d forgotten how handsome he was, how rugged, how just the sight of him made her heart skip a beat.

  “Culbart.” Caden nodded to him.

  “Miller,” Culbart replied, casually getting to his feet and wiping his fingers on the napkin Maddie had provided. “What brings you into town?”

  Caden tore his eyes from Maddie to look at Culbart.

  “Seems to me that might be my question.”

  “Word of a redheaded woman baking cinnamon rolls like a dream spread out to the ranch. Just thought I’d check it out.”

  “Don’t you have enough trouble to keep you at home?”

  “I don’t think—” Maddie began.

  Culbart shushed her with the raise of his hand. “This is between the menfolk, Maddie.”

  How could it not concern her? Before she could say anything more, Caden jumped into the fray.

  “That’s my wife you’re talking to.”

  The threat embedded in Caden’s low drawl didn’t seem to have the impact on Culbart that it did on her. Whereas she wanted to retreat, Frank seemed...invigorated. She crossed her arms over her chest, shielding herself from the animosity.

  “If she’s your wife, why is she all alone struggling to make ends meet? Working her a—” He stopped himself. “Working her behind off trying to make ends meet? If she’s your wife, why haven’t you provided for her?”

  Caden took a step closer to her, forcing her a step back. Away from Frank, she realized. “Nothing about my wife is your business.”

  Maddie immediately felt guilty. Caden had been generous. He’d made sure she had enough money to see her through.

  “He takes care of me fine, Frank.”

  Frank looked at the dark circles under her eyes, the flour on her clothing. “I can see that.”

  “The business was my idea.”

  “Why would a woman with a good husband put her hand to work?”

  “That’s a good question, and as soon as you leave, Maddie and I will be discussing it.”

  Maddie didn’t like his tone. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

  Caden’s brow went up in the way that said she was pushing him. She didn’t care. Neither, apparently, did Culbart. “I don’t recall the lady asking me to leave.”

  The last thing Maddie wanted was a showdown in her backyard. They were both big, both mean and probably both fought to the death, and for her there was no winning if either one died. She had to make a choice. Frank might be a friend, but Caden was her husband and Hell’s Eight.

  “It’s all right, Frank. I appreciate your concern, but I do have things to discuss with my husband.”

  “I think,” Culbart said quietly in that deep voice of his, “that you, Miller, and the rest of Hell’s Eight are going to discover that there is more to little Maddie than you gave her credit for.” He settled his hat on his head. “But since I care about Maddie’s welfare, I’m going to give you a bit of advice.”

  Caden grabbed her arm and pushed her behind him with controlled violence. “Shove your advice.”

  Culbart’s lips twitched. “Your tendency to be an arrogant bastard isn’t going to get you what you want.” Culbart touched his fingers to the rim of his hat. “Maddie.”

  “Goodbye, Frank.”

  He turned and headed down the alley alongside the house. Maddie watched him go, counting his steps, trying to regulate her heartbeat. It didn’t help. It was pounding wildly.

  “He’s gone. You can stop pretending to watch him now.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, she faced Caden. “You’re mad.”

  “Of course I’m mad. I left you plenty of money. What the hell happened?”

  “Nothing happened. I saw an opportunity.”

  “To rub my name in the dirt? Everyone here knows you’re my wife.”

  She shrugged. “Now everyone here knows I can bake.”

  “And this gets you what?”

  “Respect.”

  “You had that before.”

  “As your wife, not as me.”

  “And it matters?”

  Maddie scooped up the napkins and tossed them on the plate before grabbing the handles of the empty coffee cups and carried everything back into the house. When she got to the door, Caden was there ahead of her, holding it open.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “The answer is obvious.”

  “I still want to hear it.”

  She placed the dishes on the counter and spun around. “Why? Because I didn’t sit in that hotel room and wait for my money to run out?”

  “I told you I was coming back.”

  “Men always say they’re coming back.”

  “I’m not all men. I’m your husband.”

  “And you left me. You told me you wouldn’t but you did, another promise broken.”

  “I kept my word and came back.”

  “Seems to me you’re not too picky about what word you keep and what you break.”

  Caden sighed. He poured hot water from the kettle into the basin. While she watched, he lathered up a cloth and took the cups from the counter and dropped them in. She watched, stunned, as he started to wash them.

  “What?” he asked, a bit of the edge leaving his drawl. “Tia made sure we all knew how to clean.”

  She knew that. “But why are you doing it here?”

  “Because this is our home and my hands are available and it looks like you could use the help.”

  She didn’t have anything to say to that. While he washed, she took the time to inspect him for any visible wounds. He appeared fine.

  “Did all go well at the mine?”

  “A couple skirmishes. Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

 
; “So there was no need for you to leave me here after all.”

  Caden set a freshly cleaned plate on the sideboard and wiped his hands on a towel. The distance she thought so safe between them was closed in two steps. His hand snaked around the back of her neck and pulled her up against him.

  “I’m madder than shit right now, Maddie. I wouldn’t suggest pushing me.”

  “How am I pushing you?”

  “You’re my goddamn wife. It’s my job to keep you safe, not put you in harm’s way just because you don’t feel like spending some time without me.”

  She blinked at him. She hadn’t thought of it that way.

  “There’s going to be a lot more Indian trouble around here. All those settlers that have got their homes out there are going to find out how lonely it is to be so far from help. Blood’s going to be shed before this is over. A hell of a lot of it. I’m determined not one drop of it is going to be yours.”

  Again she didn’t know what to say. “What about Hell’s Eight?”

  “We may come under attack, but we have the skills to defend it. And the hands. And our location definitely helps.”

  “What makes you so sure there’s going to be bloodshed?”

  His mouth tightened. “I can read signs.”

  “Seeing tracks in the ground tells you this?”

  He dropped his hand from her neck. “Looking at burned and scalped bodies has a way of making a point.”

  She reached for the chair. “You saw bodies.”

  “Of course. So did Culbart. I suspect that’s why he’s here.”

  “He said he came to see me.”

  Caden snorted. “That might have been one of his reasons, but it’s not the main one. I’ll lay you money he came here looking for guns. His ranch is going to be one of the first to be attacked.”

  “Why, if he’s got so many men to defend it?”

  “To put the fear of God into the enemy. Take out a ranch like the Fallen C and you strike terror into the hearts of everyone around it.”

  “The Indians wouldn’t attack the town, would they?”

  “Not Simple, but maybe the smaller ones.”

  “Then I was safe.”

  “You were safe in the hotel. Here you’re off by yourself, an easy target for any no-account that gets a notion. If I’d have wanted you ripe for the plucking, I would have just left you in the middle of the plains.”