The Education of Madeline (18 page)

Madeline came so hard she saw stars and the moon and everything in between. She heard herself shouting Teague's name, and then he plunged into her deeply. She clenched around him, still rolling on her own pleasure.

It was like the current of the creek, flowing and twisting around her. It seemed like hours, but it was probably only a minute, perhaps two. Teague found his own peak with a groan and a thrust that had her peak beginning all over again.

It was incredible. It was amazing. It was too much. Along with her second peak, Madeline's breath disappeared. Teague withdrew; then, within seconds, she was lying beside him, and he had pulled her close to him.

Madeline closed her eyes and felt a peace steal over her. A peace she hadn't ever remembered feeling. Teague's warm, strong arm was around her waist.

It was indescribable, really. She knew then that she had forgiven him for his betrayal. But if he ever broke her trust again, it would destroy her.

T
eague was readying the carriage for the trip to Denver when he felt a presence behind him.

“Be careful, Mr. Teague. The sheriff knows you're leaving.”

Teague knew before he turned around that the speaker was gone. He knew who it was. Isaiah. Why was he warning him? Before he could even think about what he was doing, he turned and ran to follow Isaiah. He found him just rounding the corner of the barn. Teague grabbed the boy and had him pinned to the ground before he could even take a breath.

He stuck his knee into Isaiah's back and kept him helpless.

“All right, the way I see it, you've been spying on this house since you got here. You want to tell me what you're up to?”

Isaiah grunted and tried to dislodge the knee. No such luck. Teague outweighed him by probably sixty pounds.

“What was that? I didn't quite hear you, Isaiah.”

“I said get offa me and I'll tell ya.”

Teague eased the pressure on his knee but did not let him loose.

“That's all you're gonna get, so start talking, or I start pressing harder.”

Teague was suddenly furious. He was tired of the whole fucking town watching Maddie, recording her every move, scrutinizing her. The first time he'd caught Isaiah, he'd figured it was Eppie the boy was looking at. Now he knew different. It was Maddie.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Orion is my grandfather.”

That explained a lot. Matilda Webster had had Orion since she was a child. Although a free man, he was still under her control completely. Teague was surprised he'd had time to have a family.

“Why are you watching Miss Brewster?”

“Sheriff told me he'd kick my granddaddy out without a penny if I didn't do what he told me to. I didn't have no choice. I like Miss Madeline and Miss Eppie…. I'm sorry for what I done.”

He did sound sorry. Even to Teague's cynical ears. In fact, he sounded like he was going to cry.

“Isaiah, you and me are going to have a chat.”

He let Isaiah up and helped him stand. He looked the boy in the eye and was not surprised to see tears glistening in them.

“You help me, and we can help your granddaddy and get him away from the Websters.”

A small spark of hope ignited in Isaiah's dark eyes.

“Truly?”

“Yeah, let's go into the carriage house. Might as well help me get this goddamn carriage ready while we talk.”

As Teague and Isaiah headed back across the yard, he helped the boy wipe the dirt and grass from his shirt. He had a feeling he and Maddie had just found their ace in the hole.

 

Madeline found Teague in the carriage house sanding something. He looked up at her and smiled.

“I wanted to finish this before we left, but you might as well see what it is.”

Madeline's natural curiosity roared, and she made her way quickly over to him. It was a beautiful bench made of a darkish wood, and in the middle was an inlay that wasn't quite finished.

“The color is mahogany, like your hair. I wanted to give you something your money couldn't buy.”

Her heart sighed as she looked over the beautiful curves and lines of the bench.

“What is the inlay?” she asked as her hands felt the warm wood.

Teague touched the unfinished middle with his calloused fingertips. “A rose. Like you. Your skin smelled of roses the first time I touched you.”

Madeline grabbed his hand and pulled him up. His blue eyes were so full of love she wanted to weep. “It's beautiful. Thank you.”

She had just received the most incredible gift of her life, and he'd made it with his hands.
For her
. She hugged him close and thanked God all over again for bringing Teague into her life.

 

The trip to Denver seemed to take days, when in reality it took only hours. Madeline squirmed so much on the seat that Teague snapped at her. Twice. She was as fidgety as a sinner in church, which certainly wasn't a stretch. She was a sinner, through and through. Her sins were in plain sight for anyone to see. In fact, he was sitting right beside her, expertly handling the reins of the Brewster carriage. It had sat unused for two years until today. Her father had had it made by some fancy outfit in Kansas City, with plush velvet seats and gold handles. Just another way to rub his wealth into the noses of Plum Creek.

Madeline hated it, but she couldn't very well ride all the way to Denver. It would definitely defeat the purpose for going if she showed up with horse shit and trail dust on her.

“How long until we get there?”

Teague sighed and shook his head. “You're worse than a kid at Christmas. Probably thirty more minutes, Maddie. Just relax.”

“I can't. I'm…nervous.”

That one word made her whole body clench. She hated admitting it to anyone, even Teague, who held her heart and soul in his big hands.

“I'm sure you are. You've never been anyplace before. Denver is a big city by Plum Creek standards. You're likely to see things you've only heard about. Don't worry. I'll be there with you, honey.”

His deep voice reverberated through her chest, its echoes calming her heart and feeding her starving self-confidence.

“Are you going to tell me what we're going to do in Denver?”

Madeline thought it was safe to tell him now. There was no way anyone else would overhear it.

“We're going to find a lawyer and a judge, find evidence against Jackson Webster and Earl Martin, and put them in jail for embezzlement and fraud.”

He turned to look at her with shrewd eyes. “You think we can do all that in two days?”

“We're damn well going to try.”

The inspiration had hit her days earlier. She wanted to turn the tables on the very men trying to destroy her. She wanted to take away their lives, their future, and show them what it felt like to be an outcast, shunned and disrespected.

In short, she wanted revenge. She also didn't want them to know it was coming.

Madeline was about to become a Brewster and show her claws.

 

It was a bit overwhelming, but as Teague explained everything to her, Madeline learned. There were so many things that were different from what she knew. He was very patient with her, like he was teaching a small, inquisitive child with endless questions.

He took her to the Regency Hotel, an establishment he knew to be reputable. It was quite fancy inside, with velvet chairs, beautiful plants, and a sparkling chandelier that must have had a thousand candles in it. He explained it was electricity, not real candles, but, nevertheless, it looked like a star had come down from the sky.

“Stop gawking, Maddie.” He nudged her with his elbow until she closed her mouth.

“I read newspapers and books, Teague, but this…” She couldn't help but look at the chandelier again. “It's real. Do you understand? Like being with you. It's not just words. It's
real
.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Never thought I'd meet someone who was so book smart but didn't know a damn thing.”

Madeline's pride stung a bit at that, but she knew he was right. It was a little sad that a thirty-two-year-old woman with enough money for two lifetimes was goggle-eyed at a chandelier. She smiled back at him and squared her shoulders. “Proceed, Professor O'Neal.” She gestured to the desk that had a man behind it in a navy-blue jacket pressed with sharp creases. He eyed them with a neutral expression as they walked toward the desk.

Madeline was dressed in her brown serge traveling dress and matching hat, directly imported from New York three years ago. It wasn't new, but it was of the highest quality. One look at the man's eyes confirmed he knew it. His slicked-back hair shone from some kind of pomade; his eyes were small and set deep within his pale complexion.

“Good day, madam. May I help you?”

Madeline felt her confidence rush back like a warm drink on a cold winter day, filling her.

“Yes, you may. My name is Madeline Brewster. I need two rooms. One for me, and one for my brother.”

He didn't even blink. He began writing on a piece of paper with a fountain pen. As he wrote, Madeline noticed his hands were perfect. Not just clean or neat. Perfect. With no calluses or scars or dirt deep down in the whorls.

She glanced at Teague's hands as they held her bags. Big, strong hands covered with calluses and a lifetime of experiences. She winked at him, and a spark down deep in his beautiful blue eyes rewarded her.

“How long will you be staying with us?”

Madeline turned her attention back to the desk clerk.

“I'm not certain. At least two days, possibly more.”

Within a matter of moments, Madeline had paid for the rooms, and a man Teague called a bellhop took them upstairs to a room decorated in ivory silk, with two ornate chairs in front of a fireplace with a black marble hearth. The bed had a green bedspread and what seemed like a dozen pillows. Her room even had a private bath. Something she hadn't expected. The claw-foot tub was large, larger than her tub at home. The sheer size of it gave her ideas about Teague.

Her body responded immediately with a low hum deep down in her belly. The things Teague had done in the bathroom at her house were insistent memories her body couldn't forget. Especially the blindfold.

“Maddie?”

Teague's voice floated in from the room. With a sigh and a promise, Madeline went to meet him.

 

“Just what exactly does that mean, Mr. Robinson?” Madeline asked through clenched teeth. She was dressed beautifully again in an elegant gray worsted-wool suit, her hair up in a bun on the back of her head.

Teague sat beside her, anger burning and rolling in his gut at the way Maddie had been treated the past two days. They had visited at least a dozen attorneys, and every one of them, down to this little weasel, had told her no.

The little balding man (who probably was only as tall as Madeline's shoulder) adjusted his spectacles and tugged at his striped waistcoat. Teague could practically smell the distaste coming off him.

“I cannot assist you with your endeavor, Miss Brewster. No attorney in their right mind would assist you. What you're asking us to do borders on illegal.”

Madeline clenched her fist as it rested on her knees and stuck her chin up in the air. “It is not illegal. Land transfers are a matter of public record, and so are the moneys paid to elected servants like judges and sheriffs. I can find that information myself. What I'm asking you to do is represent me in any legal proceedings when I sue them for embezzlement.”

Every time Teague heard her plan, his stomach clenched. She was looking for a fight. No, not just a fight. A war. Maddie had brass balls to turn the sights from herself to them. It made him nervous. No, it scared the hell out of him. Teague hadn't fought for anything in many years. He had hidden behind apathy and recklessness.

Loving Madeline had dragged him from that pit and pushed him back to the front line. He wasn't at all sure he was comfortable holding a gun again, but for Maddie, he would do it. In fact, listening to this asshole was getting his back up good.

“Not possible. You will never get a judge to listen to you, Miss Brewster. You are an unmarried female meddling in business you have no right meddling in.”

Teague could practically see the steam coming from Maddie's ears. She stood abruptly, her reticule clutched tightly in her hands.

“I pity your wife, Mr. Robinson, if anyone was stupid enough to marry you. You are ignorant, biased, and small-minded. I thank you for not accepting me as a client. It saved me from having to fire you.”

With a regal grace, she swept out of the room, leaving a slack-jawed Mr. Robinson staring after her. Teague rose slowly. Staring down at the attorney, he made his intentions clear with just his eyes.

Come near her, and you'll deal with me.

“You ought to marry that woman and teach her how to respect men,” Mr. Robinson huffed.

Teague shook his head and followed Madeline out the door.

She was standing on the street pacing in a little circle. The sounds of her boots clicking were like a woodpecker tapping frantically on a tree. He grabbed her hand.

“Slow down, honey.”

She whipped her head around and stared at him with her dark eyes full of anger and worry. “There's only a handful of attorneys we haven't spoken to. We're running out of options, Teague. I'm tired of these men telling me to get back to the kitchen!” Her cheeks were flushed with passion, and Teague felt his body stir to life. Now wasn't exactly the time to think about
that
.

“Let's take a walk down to Confluence Park. You need to catch your breath and calm down before you deck the next one.”