Devils on Horseback: Lee, Book 4 (2 page)

“I reckon you’re right.” He sat down with a thump across from her, cursing himself for having such a short fuse. He’d always had a problem keeping it under control, and losing his arm made it worse. His friends were the only ones who tolerated his outbursts, and sometimes they lost patience with him.

Lee picked up the cup and glanced at her. “Thanks.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “You’re welcome.”

He should have been a bit more gracious, but he didn’t even know her. Gabby would kick his ass if she knew how he was behaving.

“Are you from around here?” There, that was polite.

She stopped, cup halfway to her mouth. Her lips were a deep shade of pink like the roses old Hettie grew outside her house in town. Just another feature of Genevieve that set him off balance.

“No, not originally.” Her accent was smooth, almost melodic.

Lee focused on trying to remember where he’d heard it, because it for damn sure wasn’t a Texas accent.

“We live on a farm and we don’t need no man to help us.” Sophie glared at him from over the top of the glass of milk, a white mustache sitting above her lips.

“I wasn’t offering,” he shot back.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d have sworn Genevieve smiled behind her coffee cup.

“Mind your manners, Sophie. We’re here to see Miss Gabby, not Mr. Blackwood.” When she leaned down to speak to her daughter, a curl sprang free from her hair and swung back and forth against her cheek.

Lee almost choked on his coffee when the urge to feel that curl raced through him. He covered his idiocy by clearing his throat and willing away the wayward thoughts.

He grasped at any topic of conversation to distract him. “How do you know Gabby?”

“My husband always brought the wheat crop to the mill.” Genevieve returned her focus to him.

Good thing she had a husband, made things a bit less stressful for Lee.

“Gabby was always here and since we’re about the same age, we visited when Henry and me came to town.” Her finger circled the rim of the coffee cup and Lee couldn’t help but notice the nails were clean and short, the fingers long and supple. He was startled to note there was no wedding ring on her left hand. Damn.

“Where’s your husband now?” He was embarrassed to realize his voice broke on the last word. Hell, he was an idiot asking a question he had no business asking.

“He died.” She glanced at Sophie with affection evident on her face. “Almost six months ago.”

This time when her gaze met his, Lee felt a spark jump between them and the air grew heavier. Genevieve was a naturally sensual woman. For reasons he didn’t want to contemplate, he was attracted to her. If he didn’t know better, he might also believe she was attracted to him. Unlike her daughter, who was still shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Oh how he lied.

“Thank you. Henry was, uh, well, he gave me Sophie and a farm to run.” Genevieve let out a short laugh without much humor. “That’s what I need to talk to Gabby about. I need a man.”

Lee’s mind raced with various images of what Genevieve would look like nude on his bed. Shit, he was already getting hard. What the hell was wrong with him? It was no business of his who climbed into her bed or why she needed a man.

When he heard footsteps on the porch, he jumped out of his chair, startling Genevieve and Sophie. “I’ll be right back.”

Lee exploded out the door and slammed into Jake. The redheaded man grabbed Lee’s shoulders as he fell forward, stopping him from landing face first on the porch.

“Jesus Christ. What are you doing?” Jake steadied both of them before letting go of Lee.

Gabby stepped up beside them with both eyebrows raised. “Are you both all right?” Her long wavy black hair was in a fat braid lying over one shoulder while her hand rested on her stomach.

“I’m fine, but Lee looks like he saw a ghost.” Jake smiled and patted Lee’s shoulder.

“There’s a woman in there waiting for you. She needs a man and I need to get some air.” Lee pushed past them and headed to the waterwheel. He wasn’t kidding when he said he needed air. Just the thought of being with a woman, with Genevieve, made him break out in a sweat and get lightheaded.

The sound of the river rushing past the mill called to him. Lee continued on toward the bank and breathing room. Perhaps when he returned, the woman who’d knocked him sideways would be gone.

* * * * *

“She needs help.”

Lee looked up from the accounting ledger at Gabby. She leaned against the doorframe, a frown on her face.

“Who?”

“You know who. Genevieve Blanchard.” She stepped into the room and sat across from him at the table. “Her husband died a few months ago, after he got the crops planted. She thought she could handle the farm alone, with a seven-year-old child to help, but now that it’s nearly time to bring the wheat in, she’s finally asking for help.”

Lee didn’t want to talk about Genevieve. The woman had set him off balance the entire time she was at the mill. God only knew how odd things would have gotten if Gabby and Jake hadn’t arrived home. All he wanted to know was that he didn’t have to be around her any longer. Her voice still echoed in his head, dammit.

“I want you to help her.”

Gabby’s words fell like a boulder in a still pond, the ripples fanning outward getting larger and larger. Lee’s mouth fell open as he stared at her, wondering if maybe he was dreaming.

“What?”

“I agree with her.” Jake stepped into the room and for once, did not have a smile on his freckled face. It was an unusual occurrence to see him without that smile, which sent a chill up Lee’s spine.

“Have you two gone loco? I can’t help her.” He raised what remained of his left arm. “Remember this? Cripples can’t be farmers.”

“Lee, you are the perfect person to help her.” Gabby reached for his hand, but he dropped the pencil and pulled back before she touched him.

Panic bubbled in his stomach as Lee realized Jake and Gabby were serious. “I can’t do shit on a farm. Jesus, I couldn’t even wash the damn dishes at the restaurant.”

“Those are your own perceptions, not what you can do if you put your mind to it.” Gabby appeared to have lost all reasonable sense. “With effort, you can do anything. Look, you’re a strong man with a strong back and damn smart too.”

Lee snorted. “Jake, your wife is crazy.”

“No, she’s not. If you’d stop hiding behind that stump, you’d realize she’s right.” Jake didn’t normally sound harsh or angry, but this time Lee heard both emotions in his friend’s tone. “We took you in because you needed a place to be away from the restaurant and we respected that. It’s been almost six months and it’s time to move on, to discover what you can do. Hell, you didn’t even know you could balance accounts until a year ago.”

Lee surely didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading. He stood, pushing the chair back so hard it fell with a crash. “I can’t be a farmhand and that’s that. Stop harping on me and you sure as hell better stop judging me.”

“We’re not judging you, Lee.” Gabby looked up at him, sincerity in her voice even he couldn’t dismiss. “We’re trying to help two people at once.”

Oh, he knew who the two people were, he just didn’t want to hear it. Genevieve Blanchard was dangerous, and her daughter was likely a little hellion. No way he’d want to help them even with two arms. “There has to be someone else in town to help her.”

“Who? You know perfectly well the men who live in Tanger. Most of them are old or can’t possibly leave their jobs to help her. Zeke is the sheriff, Gideon runs the only restaurant, Richard runs the bank, Matthew the store, and Martin is the only blacksmith in fifty miles. There is no one else unless we trust a cowboy from one of the outlying ranches, which is like handing her and Sophie to a wolf.”

Damn. She was right about that—Tanger had a very small population of men who were reliable and honest, not to mention under the age of sixty. The cowhands were a transient bunch, moving in and out with the seasons. Not a one of them was worth a spit.

“Don’t make me do this,” popped out of Lee’s mouth. He beat back the urge to plead—no way he’d allow that to happen.

“We won’t make you do anything.” Jake sat beside Gabby and glanced at her. “But there’s something we need to tell you.”

Lee’s heart thumped loud enough to make blood whoosh past his ears. Whatever they were going to tell him, it wasn’t going to be good. He was already in a mood to get the hell out of there permanently. But where would he go? He couldn’t go back to the restaurant. Zeke and Naomi lived above the sheriff’s office in one little room. Richard might let him stay at his house, but Lee didn’t want to accept his friend’s charity. He was trapped by his own inability to be a man and find his path in the world.

“Out with it so I can decide whether or not to run.”

Jake smiled. “It’s not bad news.” He leaned over and planted a loud kiss on Gabby’s cheek. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Chapter Two

Genevieve unhooked the horse’s traces while she mulled over her conversation with Gabby. Relief had mixed with shame when she accepted her friend’s offer to find a man to help her with the harvest and the other chores around the farm. Sophie didn’t speak a word on the way home—the girl had far too much sass in her already, or perhaps the half a dozen peppermints in her hand kept her quiet. Later on Genny would have a talk with her daughter about her runaway mouth.

Henry would not have allowed either of them to talk back without a slap upside the head. Since he passed, Sophie had been like a mini tornado let loose on the world, wild, untamed and unstoppable. Genny knew she should yank in the reins on her daughter, but after living under Henry’s firm hand for almost eight years, the taste of freedom was very sweet for both of them.

He had left the farm in dire straits and Genny felt every painful second of every day as the harvest time grew closer. If they didn’t bring in the crop, there would be no money for the winter. If he hadn’t been such a lousy husband and farmer, the farm might have been in better shape. However, Henry was a foolish man with a penchant for poker and a lazy streak a mile wide. Genny was glad he was gone, even if it was wrong to speak ill of the dead. It was too bad her husband hadn’t been like Lee Blackwood.

Henry had nothing in common with the stranger. Genny mentally catalogued the two of them and Henry sure came up wanting, even if Lee was missing an arm. He was handsome as sin, with chocolate brown eyes topped by lashes longer than any man should have. His shoulders and chest certainly marked him as a man who worked, as did the calluses on his hand.

Genny sighed. Why did her foolish mind keep circling back to Lee? She didn’t need a man in her life, that was for certain, except for help around the farm. Yet his behavior had taken her aback, not an easy task for someone with her background. The man had one arm and he seemed to act as if he were not only angry about it, but wanted to let everyone know. The fact she’d surprised him by serving coffee was also a bit odd.

He was different, intriguing and dangerous, not to mention sinfully sexy. A combination Genny desperately needed to avoid.

So why in the world was she still thinking about him? Because she was aroused, that’s why. He stirred her lust like a blond god, enough to make her damp between her thighs. Another momentous feat considering Genny had never liked sex with Henry. He was as selfish and boorish about that as he was about everything else. He made sex into a chore Genny tried to avoid as much as possible. She’d discovered ways to pleasure herself instead, given her wealth of knowledge learned in her less-than-normal childhood home.

She loved her daughter with a fierceness she hadn’t known she had. However, Genny hadn’t ever wanted to have a child with Henry. There were a lot of tricks her mother had taught her to prevent a baby, so luckily Genny had successfully avoided that possibility again. Sophie was all she needed. She wouldn’t trade her daughter for even a second of time away from Henry—Sophie was a gift Genny treasured.

Too bad Lee hadn’t been the first man between her legs. Perhaps then Genny might have enjoyed sex. Oh sweet heavens, that was the truth. He probably had that blond hair on his muscled chest that led down like a trail of treasure into his—

“That man, how did he lose his arm, Mama?”

Sophie’s appearance startled Genny so bad she dropped the traces on her foot. Holding in the curses that threatened, she hopped up and down, red-faced and annoyed at herself. Her daughter picked up the traces and hung them on the peg on the wall.

“Sorry if’n I scared you.” She sounded very contrite.

“It’s all right, Sophie. I was woolgathering and should’ve been paying attention.” Genny rubbed her foot, sure she’d probably done more than bruised it. Damn it, she was actually fantasizing about Lee’s prowess in bed and how his body would feel beneath her hands.

“So how did it happen?”

“What? How did what happen?” Genny limped as she led old Ned to his stall. It was time to start paying attention to what she was doing.

“The man’s arm.” Sophie followed along behind, careful to avoid any piles left by the old horse. “What happened to it?”

Genny thought about the shadows lurking in Lee’s eyes. There was definitely some ancient pain deep inside him. “I don’t know, honey. Probably during the war. He has the look of a soldier. Very, ah, strong.”

“He’s strong? Even with one arm?” Sophie took a curry brush and started working on Ned.

For all the trouble she caused in the last six months, Sophie was still a good girl who took her responsibilities seriously. It was rare that Genny had to remind her to do her chores even if she complained loudly about it half the time. Sophie was a walking contradiction Genny didn’t have the wherewithal to solve at the moment. Hell, she could barely focus on what she had to do.

While she put fresh feed in Ned’s bucket, Genny contemplated how to answer Sophie. Although the girl had not known anyone without an arm before, her question was an honest one.

“He looks strong to me. And I think that when folks lose something, they tend to make it up in other places. Like Mr. Blackwood. He’s likely very strong with his right arm.” Genny leaned against the stall door and watched her daughter curry the horse.

After finishing with Ned, Genny and Sophie headed to the house with the late-morning sun burning brightly in their eyes. Genny was exhausted from the anxiety of the day, yet dinner and getting the room ready for whomever Gabby convinced to help them awaited her. Sophie could help, but the girl looked as tired as Genny felt.

“Why don’t you go lie down, sweetie? I’ll wake you when it’s time to eat.” She opened the door and ushered Sophie in.

“I’m not a baby, Mama. I don’t need a nap.” The girl let loose a jaw-cracking yawn.

“I know, but I need quiet. You’d be doing me a favor.” Genny sighed with a bit more gusto than needed. “That drive plumb wore me out.”

Sophie looked at her dubiously. “Not sure if you’re fibbing or not, but I’ll go lay down so’s you can have quiet.”

Lord, the girl was too stubborn by half. If someone told Sophie the sky was blue, she might have to argue with them. Genny shook her head and grabbed the bucket by the door. She had to wash some vegetables for dinner as well as her face and hands. The dust and dirt from the road coated her skin.

After getting water from the well, Genny took potatoes, turnips and carrots from the trapdoor under the kitchen. Performing a normal chore like making a meal helped to calm her frayed nerves. She only had a month until it was too late to bring the wheat in, then it would rot out in the fields and that possibility scared the hell out of her.

* * * * *

Lee stared out at the water as it rushed past the mill, the sound of the wheel making a thunderous noise even louder than the river. The spray from the water cooled his face, giving him a chance to catch his breath. Not only were Gabby and Jake pushing him to help the Blanchard woman, but they were going to have a baby.

That meant the bedroom Lee currently slept in would be needed for the child. Certainly they wouldn’t move him in with Gabby’s father—the man was an invalid. Then there was the reclusive Cindy Cooley, who’d barely left her room since she entered it a year and a half ago.

Lee occupied the room which at one time was probably a closet, but it was private and gave him the home he needed when he needed it. Now he’d been given a choice—to either leave before there wouldn’t be a place for him or wait until they were forced to kick him out.

No way in hell he wanted to be in that position. He had too much pride for that, and damn sure he didn’t relish being the unwanted guest with no place to sleep. Just the thought of being a nuisance to Jake and Gabby made his stomach clench.

There wasn’t a choice—he had to leave.

Before he could change his mind or even think too hard about what he was doing, Lee headed back into the mill to pack. While he was gathering his few clothing items, strop and razor, and his other meager possessions, Lee realized he really had nothing. After the war, when they discovered Briar Creek had been destroyed, he and the Devils only had the clothes on their backs.

For Lee, he’d accumulated a whole lot of nothing since then as well. The only things he truly cared for were the men he traveled with, and now he was alone. The thought was like a punch in the gut, hard and fast. He had to sit on the small bed while he absorbed the idea.

He knew he still had them as friends, but they’d come to a point in their lives, a crossroads of sorts, where they were no longer making the journey together. Aside from Gideon, who had a restaurant to run, the other Devils had found their mates and put down roots. Lee, on the other hand, was still like a puff in the wind, blowing this way and that.

He had no roots, no mate, no future and no left arm.

A wave of sadness roared through him, and damned if he didn’t have to swallow back tears as his throat closed up with emotion. Lee prided himself on never giving into the melancholy that plagued many men during and after the war. Yet here he was wallowing in self-pity instead of getting on his feet and changing his circumstances.

At first, Jake might have had to convince Lee to go to the widow’s ranch. However, now Lee made the decision to step up and become his own man, to grab the reins and choose a path. He had to stop floundering around—it had gone on for two years. He would help Genevieve Blanchard then set up shop in Tanger as the town’s accountant. Not a job many men would take, but dammit a cripple didn’t have many choices. He couldn’t work as a wrangler, cowboy or any other job requiring two arms. Besides he was damn good with numbers and could make his way in life as an accountant.

Lee stood and picked up his saddlebags, finally ready to begin the rest of his life.

* * * * *

Genny didn’t expect anyone at the farm that day. After all, she’d only gone to town that morning and surely Gabby hadn’t found someone willing to help already, so when she heard the sound of a horse whinny, then Ned’s response, she dropped the sewing and rose. The shotgun lay next to the door, loaded and ready. She picked it up, the weight comfortable in her hand, then went to the kitchen.

She peered out the tiny window in the kitchen and didn’t see anyone. Her heart pounded a steady tattoo as her hand tightened on the barrel of the gun. The early afternoon sun spilled bright light into the front yard. A breeze kicked up a small dust cloud across the otherwise still afternoon.

Genny strained to hear sounds, and above the short bursts of her breath, she heard the sound of hoofbeats. They grew louder as whoever was on the horse got closer to the house.

Since Henry’s death, Genny had dreaded the day a stranger would come to the farm and demand more from her than a meal. She knew how to use the shotgun and wasn’t afraid to. Her worry was for Sophie and what would happen to her daughter if Genny were hurt or killed.

The horse’s neigh startled her enough that she almost dropped the gun. She took a deep breath and leaned to the right to view the front of the porch. All she could see was the side of the horse with a man’s leg and foot in the stirrup. He wore a pair of gray trousers with a faint trim down the side—an ex-Confederate soldier then.

It could be someone from Tanger, but it could also be a man who was desperate for anything he could get his hands on. Glancing backwards at her daughter’s room, Genny felt a surge of courage, or perhaps stupidity, and went to the door. As she turned the knob, her stomach clenched so hard she tasted bile, but she went outside.

At first the sun was in her eyes, but she quickly stepped to the right and got a bead on the man on the horse. She wasn’t sure if it was relief or surprise coursing through her when she recognized the stranger was none other than Lee Blackwood.

The brim of his hat shaded his eyes, but she noticed the tightening of his hand on the reins as she stood there with a weapon aimed at him.

She slowly lowered the gun, letting him know the situation was in her control, not his. Genny learned long ago that men would take control of any situation if a woman allowed them to. She wouldn’t be that kind of woman.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Blackwood.”

“Miz Blanchard.” He inclined his head. “Do you always greet visitors with a shotgun?”

His voice was hard, even a bit more than she’d expected. This was the man who had been in her thoughts since they’d met at the mill. The fact he’d been the one to appear at the farm made her pulse flutter.

“I’m a woman alone with a little girl. Would you expect me to not protect me and mine?” Genny stepped off the porch. “You’re more than welcome here, so if you don’t mind, get down off the horse before I get a crick in my neck looking at you.”

She sounded annoyed, dammit, and she didn’t want to. The man had caught her off-guard, when she was ready to do battle for her daughter, and remembering her reaction to him made everything whirl around inside her. Genny didn’t like the feeling, and as much as she found Lee to be intriguing, there were more important things to worry about than him.

He frowned at her, but he dismounted in a smoother motion than she anticipated. Considering he only had half of his left arm, she expected him to be awkward, but he was anything but. He landed on the dusty ground and walked in front of the horse, leading him by the reins. As he stepped closer, Genny fought the urge to move back.

“For someone who’s asked for help, your hospitality ain’t the best I’ve seen.” The words flowed from his mouth in a lazy southern drawl, but she heard the bite behind them.

“I have to do what I have to do, Mr. Blackwood. I was doing some sewing inside. Why don’t you set your horse in the barn and come on in for a spell.” She turned her back on him, not waiting for a response, and headed into the house.

Genny wasn’t sure if she was hoping for him to follow her or praying that he got back on his horse and rode away.

Lee stared at her nicely rounded backside, annoyed, intrigued and, damn, aroused again. Genevieve Blanchard knew exactly how to confound him, that was for sure. He grunted as he tied off the horse’s reins to the hitching post. He damn sure needed to get his thoughts in order before he followed her.