Wade laughed, shaking his head, and stepping back. “If you keep that up, Lillian, you won’t make it to your wedding night.”
“Oh, that’s silly. Mic’s got perfect self-control. ”
While the pride in her tone warmed him, he wasn’t so sure. He was powerfully close to losing his self-control and his heart to the woman wiggling her nice bottom against his groin.
Wade stumbled and Lillian’s blade scored his arm, drawing blood. A flesh wound by their standards. It was the price of working with unsheathed blades. “Stop making me laugh,” he chuckled, backing away from them. “Mic’s self-control isn’t that good.”
She gasped and pulled away from Mic, sheathing her knife as she came to inspect his arm. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to hurt you. ”
Wade glanced at Mic over her head with a wink. His arm shot out, jerking her against him, knife at her neck, the other wrapped around her waist. “Never drop your guard, soon-to-be sister. An enemy won’t hesitate. They won’t give you the same consideration. In practice, you face your enemy…. even if he wears the face of a friend.”
It took all of Mic’s remaining self-control to restrain himself from crossing the distance and attacking his brother. Seeing Lillian in his grasp, even knowing his brother wasn’t going to hurt her, had every muscle in his body tense and ready. The need to protect his strong, yet delicate woman was hard to ignore.
Her green eyes were wide, frightened. She grabbed Wade’s arm and nodded. “Got it. I shouldn’t believe anything the enemy says or does.” She tried to push the knife away from her neck, but his arm didn’t budge. “Can I go now?”
Mic shook his head and said the hardest words he’d ever have to say to her. “Get yourself out.”
She stood there for several seconds as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Then she made a pitiful groan and leaned against Wade’s chest, careful of the knife. “What did you put in the food?”
Wade grinned and shook his head, shifting his grip to hold her. “Might work with Mic, but it’s not going to work with me.”
“But if I throw up, then it’s going to get all over you.”
He chuckled. “I’ve had worse all over me.”
“Darn you,” she muttered, sniffing. Tears came to her eyes. “This is so hard. I don’t think I can do it. You’re both such strong men, and I came from back East, you know. They don’t let ladies fight with knives back there.” A couple tears slid down her cheeks, tearing at Mic’s heart. “Why do you have to be so scary?”
Wade’s grip loosened slightly around her waist. The knife fell away from her neck and he sheathed it. “Tears, Lillian?” Several plopped on his forearm. “If someone like Charles gets a hold of you, tears won’t save you.”
The crying ended abruptly and she sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot. Alright. You got me. I’m dead. Now what?”
Mic smiled and stepped forward, a large grin on his face. “You did good, Lillian,” he complimented her. “Most men see women’s tears as weakness, that they can be easily subdued. But tears are more to your favor than flirting.”
“You’re generous,” she told Mic, pushing against Wade’s restraining arm again, “but I don’t think he was fooled for a minute.”
“Because you tore out a chunk of his hair and you’d known him only a few minutes. Wade knows you’re likely to fight him rather than cry. Tears won’t work so well on him.”
“So people like Charles and Robert probably wouldn’t care if a woman was hurt, would they? I need to figure out a different way to do things. Robert doesn’t have enough hair to grab, so that won’t work. ”
“Not a different way, but you need to figure out what to do next.”
She crossed her arms and glanced from one to the other. “So if I was trapped in a perilous situation with one of them, what would be my best bet?”
“I don’t know about Robert, but Charles sees women as lesser, weak. Tears are a sign of weakness to him. He would enjoy them. And that helps you. The weaker you appear to him, the lower his guard will be. The more chances you’ll have to escape him. Bide your time. Outwait him. Seek a possible escape. ”
She nodded. “So I should stay still for the time being and let them win until they’re looking the other way. I think I can do that.”
Wade nodded. “Men aren’t reliably patient. Eventually they’ll let their guard down, thinking you can’t fight them. Jane use to say a woman’s feminine wiles were her greatest strength when paired with brains and the will to survive. A woman could destroy an army with the bat of an eyelash and a seductive smile.”
She gave them both an incredulous look. “I find it hard to believe something like batting an eyelash or smiling would make much difference.”
Mic shook his head. “Tell that to Cleopatra’s lovers.”
Lillian was a tough, smart woman but also innocent and unaware of her own power. She’d grown up in a world where women were told they were weak and powerless, assured that their male relatives or husbands would protect them and save them from folly. Right now he wished Abby or his mother was here to show her that women, while different than men, had their own strengths. All she needed was to learn to use the weapons she had to help her.
Maybe he’d made a mistake by insisting she learned to use weapons to protect herself. She didn’t need to learn to use the knife like Wade and himself, only enough to hurt those who might hurt her.
“What did Cleopatra do?” Lillian finally asked, like he knew she would when curiosity got the better of her.
“She nearly toppled the Roman Empire with her feminine wiles and cunning. She almost made it to Empress before she was thirty. But unfortunately, she backed the wrong lovers.”
“Exactly what did she do? What do you mean by ‘feminine wiles and cunning’? Is it just batting eyelashes and smiling because I don’t think that would have worked on you, Wade.”
“Probably not.” Mic nodded toward Wade’s slack arm. “But while we’ve been talking Wade’s pretty much released you. I wouldn’t suggest running. He’d only catch you. ”
She stepped away from Wade, a small frown forming on her brow. Mic wanted to kiss it away. “So what did Cleopatra do that was so impressive?”
Wade chuckled. “He doesn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want you to use them on anyone except him.”
She glared at Mic and he thought she was probably thinking that he was being hard headed over something so simple. But she didn’t understand. Wade was right; he didn’t want her using the same trick on another man that she’d used that day they’d kissed in the bramble patch.
She groaned. “How am I supposed to get out of a bind if I find myself in one?”
Wade rolled his eyes. “Forgive me in advance for being blunt, Miss Lillian Christian, but men’s minds turn to mush when it comes to sexual things. The simple flash of an ankle. A woman’s too tight or too low cut shirt. The gentle touch of her hand in the right spots.” He looked at her pants with a pointed glance. “Wearing pants. The bat of lashes and a seductive smile. It’s all a sort of promise of things to come. Sexual things. It gets men hot and bothered. Like Mic has been since he kissed you. Do you understand what I’m sayin’?”
She glanced at her pants and looked at Mic and he knew he was in trouble. There was an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. “These pants get you hot and bothered?”
Mic could feel the flush start at the roots of his hair and travel to the tips of his toes. This so wasn’t a discussion he wanted to have with his brothers standing around. “Yes.”
“But they have mud all over them.”
“Oh for God’s sake, be blunt with her, Mic, or she’ll never get it,” Wade growled, but the small smile said he knew she was teasing him.
Mic flushed even hotter. “I don’t think this is helping any.”
“I don’t see what harm these pants do.” She turned to Wade. “Besides, he gave them to me to wear.”
“Yes, but only after our mother’s dre
sses and after he thought you needed to learn to protect yourself.” Wade nudged her with his shoulder. “Truthfully, I don’t think he wanted to see you in them because he knew it would get him hitched before the month was up. A little marriage shy.”
Mic was going to kill him. “I think we need to get back to practice.”
“See if you ever get taken by the enemy, Lil’, Mic’s the kind you want. They’re not mean enough. They’re like clay in your hand. Act like a mouse and they’ll feel bad for you. Then you can mold and shape them into whatever you’d like. ”
She looked at Mic and smiled. “You really find me that attractive?”
He glanced at her. Attractive? He found her beautiful with her liquid green eyes, milky white complexion with its hint of pink from the sun. Her long, straight limbs and height that made him feel less of a giant. Her lithe frame and pert breasts that at this moment pressed insistently against the too tight shirt and the vest that molded around them, offering them upward.
He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her a little too roughly against him, pressing her soft body tightly to his. He kissed her thoroughly. His tongue swept into her open mouth, tasting her completely, devouring her. Her hands crept around his neck, her fingers brushing through his hair, and he shivered, reluctant to pull away. “More then you can imagine,” he said against her lips, before kissing her again.
Someone cleared his throat. “So when’s the wedding?” Jeremiah asked.
Lillian turned, her eyes widening. Wade grinned at the giant. And Mic wanted to sink into the ground. Could this get any worse?
She shrugged. “I suppose that depends on when we can get to a church or preacher’s house.”
Mic and Wade exchanged looks that said it all. This conversation wouldn’t end well.
Jeremiah tugged on his beard, hiding the grin. “Then you’re in luck. The preacher just came to you.”
“You’re kidding?” She frowned and looked around. “Where?”
“Why would you say such a hurtful thing?” Jeremiah asked.
“Why? What’s so hurtful about it?” She glanced at Mic and Wade who looked as if he were going to laugh again. Her eyes grew wide in understanding and she whipped around to stare at Jeremiah as if he’d suddenly become one of God’s heavenly angels. “You’re really a preacher?”
“Yes, ma’am. Given to the Lord at the age of sixteen when I was too stupid to know better.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lillian studied Jeremiah, trying to determine whether or not he was telling her the truth. Of all the things Jeremiah could tell her, this didn’t seem like one of them. “But you’re not the preacher type.”
He looked her up and down, Mic’s arms still around her waist. “Neither are you, darlin’ girl.”
“I never said I was a preacher,” she corrected him, wondering if he was losing his mind. She gave Mic’s arm a gentle squeeze and smiled at him. “Mic, did you hear me tell Jeremiah I was a preacher?”
“Then stop giving me those holier than though looks. I was a well-respected preacher once upon a time. Before me and a certain someone had a fallin’ out and I was replaced by the snake of a preacher Laramie has now. ”
“I think you just insulted the snake, Jere,” Mic said.
“So what are you doing out here, sneaking up on unsuspecting women?” she asked, wondering how a man of God could fall from grace.
“Seeing if I can resist temptation,” Jeremiah replied.
She shook her head. “Well, you’re going about it the wrong way. You don’t resist temptation by putting your hand in the cookie jar. You resist it by not going into the cupboard.”
His full belly laughter roared through the clearing. “I’ll remember that, Little Spitfire, when I am again presented a pleasing, womanly figure bent over a stream.”
Despite the unexpected thrill of being told she had a pleasing figure, she decided it was only right that he be reprimanded for speaking to her in such a way. It was, after all, only Mic’s place to say something like that since he was going to marry her. “Now look here, Jeremiah. I may not look like it when I’m wearing these clothes, but I’m a lady and someone who was a preacher ought to know better than to speak to me the way you just did. If I had gone to your stream, you’d be right, but you came here. And worse,” she stepped away from Mic and pointed at him, “you didn’t even tell me you were there. You came upon me and took advantage of my weakness as a woman. I think the least you can do is apologize.”
Jeremiah stepped up to her, towering over her by several feet. “And if I don’t?”
She closed the gap between them, deciding if she was going to try some of the techniques she’d just learned, who better to try them on than this overbearing brute? “You know, I may not look like it since I’m smaller than you,” she said as she pulled the knife from her belt, making sure he was looking her in the eyes. “But,” she pressed the hilt of her knife against his private area, “I can remove the temptation for you.”
He didn’t flinch, merely stared her in the eyes. “I approve, Mic. This Little Spitfire is the perfect wife for you.”
From behind her, Mic sighed.
“So I take that to mean you won’t be coming up behind me unawares and trying to take advantage of me?” she tested, not breaking eye contact.
He grinned down at her. “I can’t promise not to sneak up on you unaware, but I promise not to take advantage of my brother’s wife.”
“Half-brother,” Mic and Wade said in unison.
She lowered the knife and turned to Mic and Wade. “Isn’t Abby your full-sister, Mic?”
He nodded.
“You’re telling me Jeremiah tried to kiss his half-sister?”
“We didn’t know we were related at the time.”
She shook her head, unable to believe so much chaos could happen in one family. “Have we not had enough surprises for today? Must there be more? I can’t keep up with everything. This whole thing is worse than the drama found in a dime novel.”
Mic shrugged. “Well you’ve met just about everyone in the family who’s still alive.”
Wade snickered. “I should write our life into a dime novel. I think it’s just about as unbelievable.”
“They’re supposed to be unbelievable. That’s the point of fiction. But all of this,” she motioned from them to Jeremiah, “is just uncanny.” She slid the knife back into her sheath and returned to Mic’s side. “Who else is there in your family?”
“My brother,” Jeremiah said, as if that answer explained everything, but it was the tone of his voice, hard and unrelenting, speaking a terrible rage building inside him that forced Lillian to take a step closer to Mic. “We don’t like him much,” he added.
Wade laughed. “We don’t like you much most days.”
“Who is he? Is he one of the other men who took me from the stagecoach?” she asked, looking at Mic.
“No.”
“Are we going to spend all night prattling about no good family or are you going to get married to my brother, Little Spitfire?” Jeremiah asked.
Mic slipped his arm around her waist, a silent encouragement for her to drop the subject, at least for now.
She shrugged. “Alright. I’ll let the matter go so Mic and I can get married.”
Besides, if she kept on talking about their family, Jeremiah might leave and she didn’t know who else would marry them. With everything they needed to do, she didn’t see that there would be a more convenient time, and after all she’d been through, she decided she’d rather enjoy what little time she might have left. Especially when all of that time could be spent with Mic.
Jeremiah looked her up and down. “You plan on getting married with dirt on your face, mud in your hair, and wearing men’s clothes or are you going to get fancied up?”
“If I do all that, I won’t be ready for at least two hours. Just how long do you plan on staying here?” she asked.
Jeremiah smiled at her and patted her on the head as if
she were a girl of ten and not a woman of twenty-two. “Until another matter is resolved. Now go get yerself ready. You too, Mic. This might not be the fanciest wedding but it will be as perfect as we three can make it.”
“Alright. I just want to make sure you’re not going to run off while I’m not here to stop you.”
Jeremiah reached down and lifted her by the waist so they were at eye level. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” And he kissed her chastely on the lips before setting her down, ignoring the knife in her hand.
Though a smile tugged at her lips, she grunted as she straightened her vest. “I see you managed to get that kiss from me after all.”
He flashed her a grin and laughed, a large booming sound. “I hope to steal another before this night is over. But I’ll keep my promise not to take advantage of you. Now go so we can have you married before nightfall.” He walked away, whistling.
Mic shook his head and watched his brother leave. “Such a strange one he is.” He turned to her and pulled a clump of mud from her hair. “Wade, Noah, Lillian needs some water to bathe in.”
She grimaced and ran her fingers through her hair, surprised when she opened her palm and saw a couple more clumps. “I didn’t realize I was this dirty.” She must look atrocious. “A bath would be greatly appreciated.”
Mic pulled her to him, nuzzling her neck. “I think you look perfect.”
She giggled and snuggled against him, loving the way she felt in his arms. “Mic, you say the sweetest things.”
Wade pulled Noah away. “Jeremiah had the right idea.”
Lillian could hear Noah reply, “I think you were worse with Jane. Mic was ready to switch you two when he found you in the barn. . . ”
Despite Lillian’s curiosity, she decided she was better off not knowing. If it was anything like what Noah saw them doing by the stream, then she figured she already knew. She took Mic’s hand and led him away from the others. “Would you like to take the bath first? I can pick out what I’m going to wear then bathe.”
The Stagecoach Bride Page 15
