Authors: Sarah McCarty
“Maddie, this marriage is not going to last.”
Her smile broadened. “Only until death do us part.”
“Maddie, look at me.”
She did, all smiles. He felt like the biggest heel as he laid
out the truth along with sulfurs. As she took the small tin, he reiterated,
“Maddie. This marriage isn’t going to stand.”
“Of course it is, silly,” she stated calmly, walking past him
with the confidence that had been lacking before to grab Flower’s reins. “Till
death do us part. That’s what the preacher said, and you can’t go against
God.”
Flower followed her easily up the path; the bond between the
two was strong. Behind him Jester snorted. He hadn’t gotten any further making
friends with the little mare than Caden had gotten with Maddie.
“I know just how you feel,” Caden muttered.
Caden followed Maddie back to the campsite. Sure enough, she
had sticks stacked in front of the fire pit. Signs of Maddie were all over the
campsite. Everything was arranged, neatly aligned, nothing out of place. Maddie
had a penchant about neatness. He liked that in her. Maybe because of the chaos
of what her life was, maybe because of the chaos his life was—whatever. That
quality in her resonated with him.
To the right, two bedrolls were set side by side. Like a red
flag to a bull.
“Oh, hell, no.”
The only hope he had of getting out of this marriage was to not
consummate it.
As fast as he was, Maddie still beat him to the bedroll,
plunking herself down over both of them, spreading her hands over what her hips
didn’t cover, and her hips covered a lot. The woman had a nice ass.
“Stop it,” she told him.
“We’re not sleeping together, Maddie.”
She set her chin. “This is our honeymoon.”
“This is a farce.”
That chin quivered then snapped up.
“You’re not going to ruin this for me.”
“Ruin what?”
“My wedding night.”
“Dammit, Maddie, we’re not having a wedding night. We got
married because it was the only way to rescue you.”
“You could have come in guns blazing.”
“And gotten myself killed, yes, but that wouldn’t have been
much of a rescue.”
“You didn’t fight the wedding.”
“I had a goddamn gun in my back.”
“Gentlemen don’t use bad words around ladies. Tia said so.”
She glared at him as if that was the end of it. The automatic
retort that she wasn’t a lady stuck on his tongue. He unclenched his hands and
squatted in front of Maddie, touching his finger to the curl by her cheek. Her
lids flickered over her eyes and her lips trembled. Some of his anger
melted.
“You here, Maddie mine?”
She nodded a nod that could have meant anything. He asked the
question he’d wanted to ask first off.
“Did they hurt you, honey?”
She pulled away, cutting him a glare out of the corner of her
eye as she smoothed a wrinkle from one of the bedrolls.
“Women like me can’t be hurt.”
Dammit to hell and back. Caden kept his drawl soft. “Anyone can
be hurt.”
Especially someone as gentle as Maddie. She had no defenses, no
ability to stand up for herself. She was as easy to squash as a bug, and he’d
taken a swing at her. Maybe he ought to go back and let Culbart kick his
ass.
“Nothing happened.”
He remembered the clearing, the story told in the disturbance
in the ground, the button... Did he really need to make her relive that? He
settled for “Let me ask you this, then.”
Another glance out of the corner of her eye, sunlight splashed
across her freckles, making him realize how pale she was. For all her bravado,
she was tired, she was scared and she was trapped, had been for most of her
life.
“Did you ever tell Culbart you didn’t want to marry me?”
She shook her head.
It was the answer he expected. Caden pushed the loose curls
away from her face so he could see her expression, but seeing only her profile.
She looked so young with her head tipped like that, exposing the roundness of
her cheek and the delicacy of her neck. “Why not?”
Maddie smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle, not looking at him, not
pulling away, but so tense. “It would have been a lie.”
And Hell’s Eight didn’t lie. He shook his head. “What am I
going to do with you, Maddie?”
* * *
M
ADDIE
DIDN
’
T
KNOW
what he was going to do, but
she knew what she wanted him to do. She wanted to tell him to hold her, to keep
her, to cherish her, to look at her the way Ed looked at Tia, but the words
stuck like mud on her tongue. She was a whore. Men didn’t cherish whores. They
used them. They abused them, they discarded them, but they didn’t cherish them.
Especially ones that forced them into marriage.
Oh, dear heavens, what had she done? It’d seemed the right
thing at the time. She remembered thinking Caden was so alone. That he needed
someone and no one would work harder than she to make him happy. She remembered
talking about it, hearing Culbart agreeing. She shook her head. She didn’t
remember more. Didn’t need to. Oh, Lord, what had she done while she’d been
“hiding”?
Her breath rattled in her lungs then lodged in her throat. The
little girl’s voice in her head screamed
run.
The
woman she’d just started to become acquainted with said
stay.
Of the two, the child’s voice was louder. The gray of the
bedroll filled her vision. So ugly when she wanted pretty. She started to
picture her pond in her mind, letting the gray wool blend into the reflection of
a storm cloud chasing over the water, the harshness of Caden’s breath becoming
the rustle of the wind through the leaves...
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
The image wavered. The child cried louder. Out of the corner of
her eye, Maddie looked at his fingers. Scars cut across the back of his
knuckles. Old scars blending with new, the new abrasions from where he’d fought
Culbart’s men. He’d come for her. She followed a scrape down the back of his
hand to his wrists where muscle and tendon were clearly defined. Her husband.
The one to whom she owed loyalty. The one who owed her. The one she’d betrayed.
The woman in her reached out. Grabbed his hand. Clung. His start shot up her
arm. His curse blistered her ears. The child quieted. Maddie took another breath
as the image of the pond faded and once again she was staring at the gray
bedroll. And her nails biting into Caden’s skin. She still didn’t know what to
say. The only words that came out were, “I’m sorry.”
His finger slipped under her chin, forcing her to look up at
him. She hated when he did that. It made it so hard to pretend. “What the hell
is going on in that head of yours?”
A question that didn’t expect an answer. The kind of question a
man posed to an animal or an imbecile. She wished she dared push his hand away.
Instead, she concentrated on relaxing her grip on his hand. It took a lot of
concentration to accomplish the simple task. How did others do this so easily?
Argue. Fight... Confront.
She had a choice. Retreat or go forward. There was nothing for
her in going back. She forced a smile. It shook on her lips. “I was thinking it
was a pretty night for a honeymoon.”
“We’re not married.”
They had to be. She couldn’t face a future without him in it.
This was her life. She might have made a mess of it, but it could be salvaged.
“We stood before the reverend and promised our lives to each other.”
It hurt way down deep that Caden didn’t see that moment with
even a speck of the beauty she did, but when she recalled the day, she’d just
fill happiness in. Coloring bad memories with something pretty was all right,
Tia had said, as long as she didn’t forget what had really happened. And the
reality was they were really married. “That makes us married.”
“That can be undone.”
Could it? “Hell’s Eight never breaks a promise.”
Caden grabbed up one of the bedrolls, yanking it out from under
her hip, and stood. “There’s always a first time for everything.”
If Caden hadn’t stomped off while saying that, Maddie might
have been worried. The man only ran when he had mixed feelings. It was a small
thing to hold on to, but it was something. Feigning a confidence she didn’t
feel, she called after him, “But you won’t.”
He made a sound that could have been a curse and then, “That
promise was made under false pretenses.”
It took her a moment to figure out what that meant. She stood
and brushed off her skirts. “You knew what you were doing.”
Caden always knew what he was doing. She liked that about him.
The indecision that seemed to surround her like a cloud never touched him. He
saw things with a black-and-white clarity that was brutally honest. And he saw
her as a betrayer. She sighed. Inside, the child whined an explanation. She
hushed it. Making the decision to claim her life meant she claimed
responsibility for what she did in it.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he snapped before turning and heading
back toward her. A broad-shouldered man with a purpose. Her heart leaped in her
throat. His shadow crept over her as he got close. Her heart expanded, cutting
off her air.
Digging her nails into her palms, she held her ground. “You
can’t if I don’t let you.”
It felt good to draw so powerful a man up short. The thrill
almost made up for the terror that took over when he pulled his hat down low
with a deliberate tug and asked in a soft, dangerous drawl, “You’re threatening
me?”
Her courage spilled like so much water off a cliff. Biting her
lip, she stood completely still as he tipped her face up with a finger under her
chin. Men always did that, thinking if she was looking at them she couldn’t make
them go away. But she was better than they thought. Stronger.
“Yes.”
“You think you can back that threat?”
Be strong in a way that serves
you.
Bella had given her advice, and remembering it now gave Maddie
courage. She’d followed Caden to claim the future she wanted. Hiding from it now
wouldn’t accomplish her goal. Besides. She was Hell’s Eight. Hell’s Eight never
backed down.
“Yes, I can.”
I hope.
His gaze narrowed. “How?”
She had no idea, but she lifted her chin farther, forcing
herself to meet his gaze. His eyes were so bright with sun striking off them.
This close she could see the gray was flecked with blue, and not just one shade
but variations. No wonder the women sighed when he came about. His eyes were
fascinating. The kind a woman could stare into forever, lured by the illusion
that she could see his soul if she just looked long enough.
The thought was as seductive as the way his shirt fit across
muscular shoulders. Caden was a handsome man, as rugged as the hills, as harshly
beautiful as the plains. The stark cut of his cheekbones under his eyes just
added to his appeal. Beautifully handsome, she corrected as she dropped her gaze
to his mouth. In repose his lips were firm and well shaped, not girlie but not
too thin in that way that made a woman think of a mean spirit. They were, she
decided, just right. A firm stroke of his thumb across her chin and his sigh
brought her back to the moment.
“If you’re going to piss me off, the least you can do is stay
for the fight.”
She blinked. She had drifted off but not in ways he thought. It
was a small personal victory. She added it to her mental hoard. “I’m sorry.”
His head titled to the side. A sunbeam cut a path beneath the
brim of his hat. If she’d thought his eyes were stunning before, they were
mesmerizing now. “No, you’re not.”
She actually wasn’t, and what a pleasant surprise that was. It
seemed she’d been apologizing her whole life, starting with the fact that she’d
been born. “I don’t like to fight.”
His thumb crept up until the tip just grazed the underside of
her lower lip. The strangest of tingles spread out from that spot. Her breath
caught in her throat. His eyes narrowed, and suddenly there was a different kind
of tension between them. “Then, why are you picking one?”
This she could answer. “Because you’re breaking your promise to
me.”
“I never break a promise.”
“You promised you wouldn’t leave before I got back.”
“Shit.” His thumb stopped moving, but the tingles continued.
“So you tricked me into marriage to get revenge for a broken promise?”
She stepped back, breaking the contact. For a second she
thought he was going to follow, but then his hand dropped to his side. “No, I
didn’t, but I can’t let you break another promise to me.”
“How do you intend to stop me?”
“I don’t know.” She thought of Bella and how she faced down Sam
when he was being unreasonable. She couldn’t put her hand on her hip with the
same flair as Bella, but she could imitate her bravado. “Yet.”
That “yet” snapped his chin up. “I don’t like you like
this.”
She didn’t imagine he did, but
she
did. “Well, get used to it.” She snatched up her bedroll and dragged it over to
where his was, laying it out beside his again. “I’m not a child.”
His gaze dropped to her breasts. She was used to men looking at
her breasts. It didn’t mean she had to like it. She put her hand to her bodice.
“I meant inside.”
The expression on his face could only be described as
surprised. She was not an ugly woman, and he needn’t act as if looking at her
breasts was the most shocking of things.
“What the hell are you doing?”
She had no idea. She couldn’t seem to settle between wanting
and running. “I think I’m getting stronger.”
“You always were strong.” He made that claim with a nonchalance
that stunned her. With a motion of his hand, he indicated the bedrolls tossed on
the ground. “Do you think sleeping with me is going to make you more a woman in
my eyes?”