Authors: Sarah McCarty
It was awkward and the instant her butt left Caine’s thigh, she knew she was going to fall. She twisted about. The horse sidestepped. She dug her nails into Caine’s forearms and held on for dear life.
“Desi?” His drawl was low and patient and demonstrated none of the terror snapping through her.
“What?”
“Your feet are about six inches off the ground.”
A glance confirmed his statement. She closed her eyes. She let go of his hands and dropped. Pain knifed up from her feet. She stumbled and caught the edge of the saddle.
A hand wrapped around her arm. She gasped and whirled. “Easy, ma’am.”
Trapped.
The one word ricochetted through her mind as she stared up into the hawklike features of the man holding her. Dark, like the ones who’d killed her parents, and possessing the same cruel set to the mouth. And his eyes, she couldn’t look away from his eyes. They were eerily light gray, almost silver…. She took a step back. Tucker’s mouth jerked at the corner as he let her go. She rubbed her arm where he’d touched and took another step back, aware of how it all looked, gasping as the cuts on her feet split open with the move.
“I’m sorry.”
Tucker’s expression didn’t change. “For what?”
For being a coward. For jumping at shadows. For always expecting the worst when she used to see the possibilities. “You just startled me.”
The corner of his mouth twitched again. “Next you’ll be saying you didn’t know I was Indian.”
Sarcasm packed every one of those ten clipped words.
She didn’t know what to say. Part of her reaction
had
been because he was Indian.
“Let it go, Tucker,” Caine ordered.
“Why should I?”
“Because if you don’t, you’re going to feel like a total ass later.”
Desi licked her lips and leaned back as Tucker’s anger rode her nerves like the blade of a knife. His strange silver gaze flicked to Caine and then to her.
“You don’t say.”
“I do.”
Desi reached for Caine, finding the rough leather of his boot with her palm. She couldn’t look away from Tucker. She also couldn’t stop herself from trying to explain. “I don’t do well when startled.”
It wasn’t much of an explanation. This time when those eyes ran over her, they did it more slowly, coming back to her face to linger with disturbing intensity. “Neither do I.”
Was he warning her? She licked her lips again. “I’ll remember.”
“Desi?”
She didn’t take her eyes off Tucker as she answered Caine. “What?”
“Look at me.”
Keeping her eyes on Tucker as much as possible, she tilted her head. Tucker’s hand flashed in her periphery vision. She gasped and leapt back, throwing up her arms to protect her face. Curses rang around her. A low, rumbling growl rose above them. Caine’s hand grabbed hers, the rough calluses abrading with comforting familiarity.
“Son of a bitch, Boone, if you don’t straighten up I’m going to take you out back and shoot you,” Tucker said.
She opened her eyes. A dog—a very big dog, with a smooth red coat, long ears and a fully raised ruff—stood between her and Tucker and it was snarling—at
Tucker.
She couldn’t see the dog’s face, but Tucker was giving him a heck of a glare.
“You can’t kill Boone, Tucker,” Caine drawled. “He’s Hell’s Eight.”
Tucker didn’t look convinced. “The damn dog is so lazy he’s worthless. Won’t track, won’t hunt and is afraid of his own shadow.”
“He doesn’t look too afraid right now.”
Desi had to agree. He looked very intimidating, snarling at Tucker. She glanced over at Tia. She was observing the scenario with a strange expression on her face.
“If he doesn’t shut up soon, I’m going to slit his throat.”
Desi couldn’t let that happen. Not when the dog was protecting her. She reached out and touched the hound’s tail. He glanced at her over his shoulder. He had the biggest eyes, with lots of bags underneath. His tail wagged and then he resumed his threatening stance.
“Call him off, Desi,” Caine ordered.
Was he crazy? “He’s not my dog.”
Tucker was the one who answered. “Looks like he’s decided he is.”
“Boone?” She took the way the dog stilled to mean he was listening. She tapped her thigh with her free hand. “Come here.”
For a split second she didn’t think he was going to respond, then with a short, grunting growl, he spun around, took the two steps to reach her side and collapsed against her pinning her to the horse, long ears falling back. She petted his head tentatively. The wrinkles in his face sagged almost smooth with bliss. “Good boy.”
“Welcome to Hell’s Eight, ma’am.”
The tension was gone from Tucker’s face. “You’re not mad at me anymore.”
“No.”
“Why?”
He pointed to the dog. “Boone’s a particular hound. He’s never cozied up to anyone before.”
“You’re forgiving me because your dog likes me?”
“He’s your dog. I’m giving him to you. And yes.” He touched his hat in a small salute. “I think I can find my way to forgiving our misunderstanding.”
Saddle leather creaked as Caine swung down beside her. His arm came around her shoulder immediately. “You flirting with my wife, Tucker?”
Desi couldn’t imagine the big, dark man doing something as lighthearted as flirting.
“What would you do if I was?”
Unbelievably, Caine laughed. “Teach you how to do it right. That was a damn pathetic attempt.”
Tucker smiled at Caine. “I wasn’t trying.” His gaze dropped back to her. “You should see me when I try.”
She didn’t want to see that. It would be like watching a wolf cozy up to a bunny. Way too much potential danger for her. From here on out, she wanted the placid life. No more adventure. No more excitement. Just one day predictably flowing into the next.
Caine tucked her into his side. She snuck a glance at his face. The shadows were no kinder to the harsh planes of his face than the light. If Tucker was a wolf, Caine was a cougar—lean, lethal and pure predator.
His green eyes flicked to hers, male possession in the depths. A shudder ran up her spine. She quickly quelled it. A wife was different than a whore. And Caine, at least, looked to be a man who valued his possessions. She forced herself to lean into his side as he clearly wanted. She might have done stupid things in the past, but she was smart enough to know a strong man to protect her was not something a woman should sneeze at. Not out here where the size of a man’s muscle counted more than the size of his bank account. She rubbed the hound’s ears, and for the first time she really began to accept she was Caine’s wife.
Something brushed her hair. Caine’s chin or his lips? There was no way to tell and, truthfully, she didn’t know if she wanted to know. She was playing a game of survival. If she started worrying now about who got hurt being fooled, she’d never make it to tomorrow. She brought her weight down on her right foot. She winced. Tucker frowned and Tia asked, “Are you injured?”
Caine’s reply overrode hers His hands slid behind her knees. “Her feet are shredded.”
Tucker went still. “From what?”
Caine swung her up into his arms. Her weight didn’t even put a dent in his calm. “Running barefoot.”
“Why was she running?” Tia asked. Desi looped her arms around Caine’s neck, burying her face in his throat. Once he answered, they would all know what she was. “Because I scared her.”
It wasn’t what she had expected him to say.
“Why would you do that?” Tucker asked.
Caine’s hand opened on her back beneath her shoulder blades, taking the pressure off her arms. “It’s been so long since I dealt with a decent woman, I lost my head.”
“Uh-huh.”
It didn’t sound like Tucker believed that lie, but Desi didn’t care. She wanted to believe it.
“Unless you’ve got something else we need to talk about, I want to get my wife in out of the cold.”
Desi was beginning to get used to the way Caine said
wife.
She let her hands slip down his chest and rested her cheek on his shoulder. It had a nice solid
real
sound when he said it.
“I’m done.” Tucker touched his finger to his hat brim. “Evening, ma’am.”
“Evening.” She barely had the time to get the word out before Caine was moving. He closed the distance to the house in long, sure strides, none of the weariness dragging her down apparent in anything he did.
As his boot hit the first step of the porch he said, “You can owe me for that.”
“What?”
“That doubt back there, thinking I wouldn’t shield you.”
“I had no reason to think you would.”
“You’re my wife. Of course, I would.”
She could feel him looking at her, willing her to look at him. She didn’t. Not because she was afraid, but because it required too much energy to lift her head. “What do I owe you?”
Two thuds of his boot heels and they were on the wide porch. “An apology.”
“Why?”
He stopped just inside the door. His sigh was big enough to lift her up. “Because, Desi girl, you’re my wife, humiliating you humiliates me, and because as my wife, you should know that.”
She didn’t know anything of the sort. “Pretending I’m not what I am isn’t going to change anything.”
“And what are you,
niña?
” Tia asked from somewhere to her right.
Damn the too big jacket! The way it bunched up, she might as well be wearing blinders. Desi didn’t know why she hesitated to answer. It wasn’t like the truth wasn’t going to come out anyway.
“Spoiled, very spoiled.”
Caine snorted. “Hardly.”
But she had been. Before James, before the Comancheros, she’d been pampered and indulged. Anything she’d wanted had been given to her with a smile and a pat on the head. Anything to keep her quiet and out of the way, she was beginning to understand. “I was a very spoiled child.”
Tia came into her line of vision, her head tilted to the side and those beautiful eyes seemed to see a lot of what Desi wanted hidden. This was not a dumb woman. “And now a very tired woman, I am thinking.”
“Definitely.”
Tia waved in the direction of the doorway to the right. “I have started your bath.”
That brought her head up. She hadn’t had a real bath in forever. “There hasn’t been time to heat the water.”
Back home, indoor plumbing was becoming common for the wealthy, but she couldn’t see it existing here.
With an elegant gesture that indicated they should precede her, Tia said, “I keep the reservoir on the stove filled for whenever the men come in.”
Caine headed for the door. Tia fell into step behind.
“The tub is not completely filled, but the men have the fire started and will add more hot water as time goes.”
Desi felt a light tug on her hair.
“I am thinking it will take much to get your hair clean.”
Desi put her hand to the side of her head, feeling the mats. “I think it might be easier just to cut it all off.”
Caine’s “No” was immediate. Tia’s wasn’t far behind.
“It’s just hair. It’ll grow back.”
Tia headed for the cupboard back by the door they’d just come in. “A woman’s hair is her glory.”
Caine set her in a chair and lifted a skein off her shoulder. The knotted curls twisted around his fingers.
“And a man’s pride and joy,” Tia added, glancing fondly at Caine as she grabbed a jar. “Men love a woman’s hair.”
Desi eyed the mess Caine was holding out of the corner of her eye. It fell in a matted lump when he dropped it. “You really may not have a choice.”
Caine squatted beside Desi and started untying the moccasins he’d laced her into. “I keep telling you, Gypsy, there’s always a choice.”
I
f Desi had been expecting privacy, she was doomed to disappointment. As the last binding came off her feet, Tia gasped. “Your feet are a mess.” She cast a look at Caine. “How again did it happen?”
Desi turned her foot and looked at the angry abrasions. “I didn’t run fast enough.”
The brim of Caine’s hat blocked her view of his face, but from the jerk of his shoulders, he might have chuckled. She had an insane urge to knock that hat off his head. It was as much of a shield as the carefully blank expression he often wore.
“From what?”
Again, Caine didn’t deny his part in her downfall. “Me.”
He pressed to the sides of the deep cut down the middle of her right foot. Blood welled. “You opened this up again.”
Tia halted on the way to the tub and headed back the way she’d just come. “I will get the salve.” As she walked by, she clapped Caine on the head, knocking his hat askew. “And you—I taught you better on how to treat a wife.”
Caine straightened his hat. “She wasn’t my wife at the time.”
Tia spun around and came back, swatted his hat again and put her hands on her hips. “And this makes it better how?”