The Devil's Daughter (10 page)

Jed continued to smooth his thumbs over her palms, working slow circles across every inch.

“These are the hands of someone who’s known hard work.” His voice lowered. “These are the hands of someone who’s proud enough to hide her hardships.”

Lucy forced an indifferent snort. “Yes, well, you know what they say – pride cometh before the fall.”

Jed ignored her. “These are the hands of the woman I want working with me.”

“But--”

“No buts.” Her curled her hand inside his own and smiled down at her, but it wasn’t a happy smile. Worry and concern reflected through his dark eyes.

As Lucy released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, guilt gnawed at her. For all his honorable and righteous ways, Jedidiah Caine was impossible to dislike – and that wasn’t making her job any easier.

She wouldn’t fail. She wouldn’t.

Blinking hard, she tossed her ratty hair over her shoulder and offered him what she hoped was a bright smile.

“So once the water boils. . .”

A small frown puckered Jed’s forehead until he caught up with her change of subject.

“Right. The water.” He released her hands and turned back to the fire. “Lift the pot off the fire, and add the grounds to the water.”

“How much?” Her voice felt jittery, almost nervous. Why did she get so jumpy every time Jed touched her?

He glanced back at the full drawer of grounds and shrugged. “I’ve never measured,” he admitted. “But you can never make it too strong for me, so that’s not a worry.”

Obviously he still hoped her cooking skills would get better.

Stupid man.

“Stir it up,” he continued. “Then let it sit for a couple minutes.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Is that it?”

“Not quite.”

Lucy fought back a groan. The more instructions he gave her, the more likely she was to forget them. Still, he kept talking.

“Set it back over the fire and let it boil again. You might have to stir it some more to push the grounds down.”

Boil it, stir it, she could do that.

“How long does it boil?”

“Couple minutes.”

“Right. Then it’s ready?”

“Not quite.”

Lucy let out a loud sigh. “What now?”

He motioned toward the bucket of fresh water beside the fire. “Just before you serve it, pour a little bit of cold water in the pot and you’re done.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and fisted her free hand against her hip. “You’re telling me I’m supposed to boil this. . .mud. . .twice, and then once it’s good and hot, I’m supposed to dump cold water in it?”

He grinned. “Cold water helps the grounds settle.”

He pushed to his feet and nodded toward the pot of water, which had yet to boil the first time. “Make sense?”

No.

“Of course.” What was she supposed to do once the water boiled?

“Good. I’ll start on the chores then.” He headed toward the barn, then stopped and turned back, a mischievous grin on his face. “Suppose this means I shouldn’t hope for eggs or biscuits for breakfast?”

“You can hope all you like.”

 o0o

With the animals tended, Jed spent a few minutes at the creek ridding himself of yesterday’s dirt and sweat. And yes, trying to wash away some of the confusion clouding his brain.

Unlike Maggie, Lucy was difficult and trying, but she was also candid and direct, and despite everything, she had made an honest effort to help.

Maggie was usually mild tempered and agreeable, Lucy was anything but. Both were beautiful women, but in vastly different ways. Maggie’s was a gentle, womanly beauty, the kind that made a man want to protect her, shelter her. Lucy’s had a strength behind it that demanded attention. She didn’t need to be taken care of and she had no need of a protector.

Even wrinkled and filthy, there was something about Lucy that drew Jed to her. He hadn’t expected it, and though it was a good thing, it also scared him to death.

Strangest damned thing.

He was supposed to be focused on helping Maggie. Instead, he was thinking about his new wife and how much he’d like to . . .

Jed pushed his head under the water and held it there til his lungs threatened to pop.

There was no denying it. A day into their marriage and he already liked his wife. It was more than just a physical need – though that was strong enough on its own. He liked that she didn’t need to be protected, she didn’t need a man to survive. He liked that she had opinions and she wasn’t afraid to express them.

And he very much liked the idea that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

If only she could learn to like him, too.

Jed walked back toward the house cleansed of dirt and grime, but still thick with need.

Long before he saw it, he smelled it. Strong coffee – really strong coffee - or some variation of it, anyway. He’d given her instruction, so how bad could it be? No matter – it would be hot and that was the main thing.

Lucy stepped out of the barn as he walked up. Her face had been scrubbed, her hair brushed back, and though she was wearing the other new day dress they’d bought, it seemed to have fallen under the same knife as the first one.

“I smell coffee,” he said, grinning broadly. “My mouth’s been watering the whole way back from the creek.”

Lucy’s eyes flew wide. Her mouth opened, then slammed shut as she hurried toward the fire.

A long groan worked its way up Jed’s throat, but he choked it back. She’d added the grounds to the pot, then put it back on to boil and promptly forgotten about it. Brown water bubbled out the top of the pot and sizzled against the dancing flames.

Lucy’s shoulders slumped. “I just went in to get cleaned up a little and . . .”

“That’s okay,” Jed struggled to get out. “I like it strong, remember? And it’ll be good ‘n hot, too.”

Before he could stop her, Lucy lifted the pot from the fire, scooped a mug full of cold water from the bucket and dumped it inside the pot.

Least it
used
to be hot.

She retrieved the mug from beside the water bucket, filled it to the rim with what started out as coffee, and held it toward him.

The first small sip sent his taste buds running for their lives.

“How is it?” she asked, her face full of nervous anticipation.

He took another sip in the hopes the first had simply been off. Nope. The first sip had actually been better.

“It’s, uh. . .” he hesitated long enough to take another sip. Not because he wanted to, but because his own words were kicking him in his conscience.

I won’t lie to you, Lucy. Ever.

He nodded briefly before answering. “It’s not the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted.”

The smile that lit Lucy’s face was enough to make him down two full cups of the cold, thin, murky substance.

Over the next several days, things hadn’t improved. Nothing Lucy cooked or boiled tasted as it should, and Maggie hadn’t set foot outside the cabin, despite Jed’s continued pleas.

“I’m going to town today,” he said over Lucy’s latest disaster of breakfast. “Maggie’s agreed to let Miss Blake come and stay with her.”

“Miss Blake? From the auction?” What was this odd fear that suddenly ripped through Lucy’s veins? “Why her?”

“She promised she’d help if I needed it.” Jed’s frown deepened. “And God knows we need it.”

“I think she meant with me.”

“I know,” he agreed quietly. “But she’s our only hope. If she won’t come, Maggie’s going to starve herself and that baby.”

He downed the rest of his coffee, set the mug by the water buckets, and offered Lucy a weary smile.

“I should be back by early afternoon.”

Something in Lucy’s heart twinged, but she dismissed it. This was her chance to prove her worth to him, to make him respect her, maybe even like her.

While he was in town, she’d work like a madwoman. If that didn’t prove something to him, what would?

Half an hour later, he climbed up on the bench of the wagon and steered the horses toward town. The dust hadn’t even begun to settle before Lucy set to work.

Dishes were scrubbed and stacked near the fire, since she couldn’t put them away inside the cabin. The blanket, which now served as their outside table, was shaken out, repositioned, and secured with the largest rocks she could find. Then she set to work on the wash.

How could something so simple be so exhausting?

She plunged Jed’s shirt back into the wash bucket, scrubbed it over the board again, leaving the top layer of her knuckles behind as she did.

This was almost as bad as. . .no, it wasn’t. She pushed her hair back from her eyes and cursed the shirt, the board and the man who’d dirtied the clothes in the first place.

And even as she worked to clean this shirt, she’d no doubt have to wash his other one tomorrow. Lucy bent back over the wash tub, dunked the whole shirt into the water, lifted it out and did it all over again. Why wouldn’t the soap come off?

With a long sigh, she wrung the shirt between her hands, shook it out, then hung it next to Jed’s trousers and her other ugly dress.

Blood oozed from her scraped knuckles and her back ached from the constant bending, but she couldn’t stop. She had to keep working; the more she accomplished in his absence, the happier he’d be.

Consequently, the happier she’d be.

After dumping the washtub out back, she set to work around the yard. By the time she stopped for a drink of water, she’d piled up enough chips to last them a week, and in the process had cleaned the yard of every last nasty bit of dung.

Next she set to work on the barn. If she was going to have to live out there for the next while, she’d damn well be comfortable. A quick search produced Jed’s hammer and a handful of nails, which she pounded into the wall farthest from the stalls. Once the wash was dry, she’d hang the clean clothes inside, instead of leaving them folded in the dirt.

Next, she rearranged the straw they used for a mattress, added more, then covered it all with one of the blankets. It wouldn’t be a huge improvement over sleeping on the straw itself, but it would be something.

When she’d satisfied herself with the new arrangements, she returned the hammer to its spot and retrieved the saw. Jed wanted to use the mesquite for a corral, so she’d help him out a little.

It only took three or four serious jabs of the thorns before Lucy finally gave up and put her gloves back on. Then she set to cutting down the nasty bushes with a vengeance. She didn’t stop for her noon meal, nor did she pay Maggie a second’s glance.

If the woman wanted to stay holed up in that disgusting little cabin, then so be it. Lucy would get to her eventually.

By the time the wagon creaked toward the house, Lucy was scratched, poked, filthy and almost warm. Almost.

Miss Blake sat on the bench next to Jed, her round body jostling against the seat with each dip and jerk the wagon made.

The woman’s gaze darted to the house, the barn, Lucy’s feet, then to Jed, but never once did she look Lucy in the eye.

“Mrs. Caine,” she said quietly. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Miss Blake,” Lucy answered. “I’m sure Maggie will be happy to have you here.”

“Please, call me Berta.”

Lucy tried to smile, but failed. “I’m Lucy.”

Jed helped the woman down from the bench, then pulled her small bag from the back of the wagon. He had yet to say anything, but his frown wasn’t exactly encouraging. Now what had she done wrong?

He probably expected her to have more done, but what?

“How are you managing out here?” Berta still didn’t look directly at her.

“Well...” Lucy laughed lightly. “It’s certainly different.” Her forced smile was a wasted effort as neither Berta nor Jed would look at her.

They stood in the yard for a moment, but no one said anything. Finally Berta cleared her throat.

“I best see to Maggie.”

Jed nodded distractedly and led her toward the cabin.

“Maggie,” he called through the door. “Miss Blake’s here.”

Lucy stayed where she was, watching, as Maggie cracked the door open just enough to see out, then wider to let the other woman inside. Berta’s skirts had barely cleared the opening before Maggie slammed the door shut and Lucy heard the now familiar thud.

The Bible was in place.

With slow, measured steps, Jed made his way back to Lucy, but still he didn’t say anything.

She’d ruined it. Her chance to prove something to Jed and she hadn’t done it.

He rubbed his palm across his face and let out a long low whistle.

“You’ve been busy.”

A bubble of something – pride? – swelled inside Lucy. She half-nodded, half-shrugged as she followed his gaze around the yard.