Authors: Sarah McCarty
“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 if 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
M
ADDIE
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.”
“If you wanted me safe, you wouldn’t have left me anywhere.
You’d have kept me with you.”
“There’s work I had to do at the mine. Time constraints on
it.”
“So you chose gold over me. Same thing.”
“I chose our future.”
“Our future? No, it’s not our future when you can, on a whim,
just set me aside, take all my money, take my children and just leave me
behind.”
He blinked. “What in the hell are you going on about?”
“I talked to an attorney.”
“You talked to an attorney? Why?”
“To see what my rights were in divorce.”
“Who the hell said anything about divorce?”
“You left me. It was an option. I wanted to see what my rights
were.”
“And what exactly did you find out?”
“That I have none! But you know the worst part, Caden?” She
folded her arms across her chest. “I had more rights as a whore than I do as a
married woman.”
“The hell you say.”
“The hell I do. And you know what else? I don’t like it. I
don’t like that you can tell me you love me one night and the next morning just
drop me off like I’m just so much garbage you’re sick of carrying around.”
“I told you how it was.”
“But you didn’t ask me what I wanted.”
“It’s not my job to ask you. It’s my job to keep you safe and
it’s your job to follow what I say.”
“That’s a crock of shit.”
“Watch your language.”
“You watch yours,” she retorted.
“What the hell’s gotten into you?”
She had no idea, but she was gloriously, furiously mad, and she
wasn’t going to take this anymore.
“Nothing that shouldn’t have been there all along.”
“Pack everything. We’re getting out of here.”
“You pack up
your
things and
leave.”
Caden looked around the small house. “You can’t seriously want
to stay here.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to abandon my business.”
“What business?”
“I have a bakery.” She waved her hand around the kitchen.
“A few loaves of bread for the locals?” The way he scoffed just
grated on her nerves.
She wanted to go move that hutch, rip up the floorboards where
she kept her emergency money and show him just how little her business wasn’t.
Instead, she gritted her teeth.
“The money that you left for me is in the bank.”
“You didn’t spend it?”
“Some of it, but I paid it back and it’s there waiting for
you.”
“Can’t get it without your signature.”
She shook her head. “All you’ve got to do is walk in and tell
them you’re my husband and you can have anything you want.”
The shock in his expression soothed a little of her anger.
“What the hell makes you think I would do that?”
“I don’t know, but it grates the hell out of me that you could.
That everything I’ve worked for my entire life could just vanish into your
pocket. If you were a gambler I could lose it all with no say.”
“I don’t gamble.”
“And if you were a drunk you could just drink it away.”
“I don’t drink.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Not more than a beer or two.” He grabbed her forearms and gave
her a little shake. “Maddie, are you crazy again, just in a different way?”
Yes, she was. Crazy mad at life, at the unfairness of it all,
at the uncertainty of knowing that this business she’d started, that this
identity she’d developed could just
disappear
on his
whim. It drove her crazy. It made her crazy. She wanted to be safe, and nothing
in the law provided that she would be. But she couldn’t expect Caden to
understand that. The advantage was all on his side, and only a fool would give
up that advantage. Caden Miller was no fool.
“No. I’m not.”
“You couldn’t prove it by me.”
“Do I need to?”
On a muttered curse, Caden turned on his heel and slammed out
the back door. Maddie leaned against the counter and put her hand against her
pounding chest and breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t have any doubt that
he’d be back, but a day’s reprieve would be nice. Running her shaking fingers
through her hair, she went to the sink and quickly washed her hands. The dough
she’d left earlier to rise was almost past the point of no return. She quickly
punched it down, flopping it onto the board and rolling it out. Before she was
on the fourth pass, Caden was back, his saddlebags slung over his shoulder, his
rifles in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
“Unpacking.”
“I thought you were going to the hotel.”
“So did I.”
He stopped in the living room and looked around for a door.
“Where’s the bedroom?”
“You’re standing in it.”
“Where do you sleep?”
She looked at the couch.
“Son of a bitch.”
He dropped his gear on the floor.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t like it.”
“I’m staying, Maddie.”
She wanted to scream. “Why? There isn’t even a bed.”
“Because this is where you are, and I promised to cleave unto
you, forsaking all others.” He looked around the tiny house again. “It’d be a
hell of a lot more comfortable cleaving, though, in a hotel room with a nice big
bed and a hip bath.”
The bath did sound nice.
“There’s a swimming hole just out of town.”
He stopped and looked at her. “You saying I stink?”
He didn’t. There was a slight scent of sweat about him, but
mostly he smelled the way he always did, of man and good things.
She shook her head.
“I just thought you might be hot.”
“I am. Maybe after dinner you and I’ll go down and sample
it.”
She shook her head. She remembered all too clearly what
happened last time they’d “cooled off.” “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Caden, I bake until I go to bed, and when I get up in the
morning I start again.”
“Why?”
What was the point of telling him? What was the point of
not?