Caden's Vow (9 page)

“Men don’t remember women they fornicate with.”

“Honey, there isn’t a man that would lie down with you and
forget.”

He was completely wrong. So many had. “Then, the night should
go well.”

“It’s not even dark yet.”

He was making excuses. “You don’t think I’m pretty enough.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Her heart did a little flutter. She sat on the bedroll with a
plop. “Good.”

He reached down and pulled her to her feet. “But Ace might have
his own opinion.”

Oh, good gravy. She’d forgotten about Ace.

“Unless you were intending on giving him a show?” Caden asked
with a mocking tilt of his head.

The question hit her like a blow. He could be so cruel. She
could feel the pull of her pond, the tranquil and cool water, smell the sweet
breeze of the wildflowers around. It would be so easy to slip out from under the
humiliation of the moment into that soft dream. She wouldn’t have to even close
her eyes. Just let her mind flow... And so unfair.

“Maddie?” Someone shook her.

She blinked, reality coming back into focus. “Caden?”

“Who else?”

She shook her head to clear it. She’d slipped away. For how
long? She licked her lips. “No one.”

His grip eased on her shoulders. She looked at his hands and
then his face. “You were shaking me?”

She had such a hard time putting together the spaces in the
time between her fancy and what was real.

“Yeah.” He let go of her arms slowly as if he was afraid she
was going to bolt. Or fall.

She licked her lips again, and his gaze dropped to her mouth.
For no reason, she remembered that tingle.

“You really do slip away, don’t you?”

What did he want her to say? More important, why did he want
her to say it? “Sometimes.”

“Wonderful. Something to look forward to over the next forty
years. I’m going to get the supplies.” He turned and stalked away.

Instead of following, she stood there and smiled.

Caden was thinking of a future.

CHAPTER EIGHT

F
IVE
HOURS
LATER
Caden was still at an
impasse with Maddie. Dark had fallen, supper was cooked, edible because Caden
had done the honors, and Maddie was singing softly, an Irish song that put a
lilt in her voice that was only faintly there when she sang. Caden sat in front
of the fire and gave it a poke with a stick. The night was warm, they didn’t
really need it, but keeping it going was giving him something to do other than
take potshots at Maddie. She drew him, angered him and just generally threw his
orderly world into chaos, so why couldn’t he just walk away? Why the hell did he
feel as if he owed her an apology?

Ace entered the camp, his boots making soft scuffing sounds on
the rock. He took one look at Caden and said, “At least the horses are
settled.”

“Shut up, Ace.”

Ace waved to Maddie. “Evening, Sprout.”

Maddie waved back. “I set aside supper for you.”

“Thanks.”

Ace grabbed one of the freshly washed bowls off the rock by the
fire and asked, “Who cooked?”

“Maddie made the biscuits.”

Ace immediately piled three on his plate. He hesitated over the
stew.

Caden sighed. “It’s safe. I made the stew.”

Ace loaded up his bowl. “It’s a damn shame that woman can’t
cook.” Dipping a biscuit in the stew, he moaned, “But she sure can bake.”

“She can do a lot of things.”

Ace raised a brow at him. “Maybe even make you happy.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

Ace took a bite of stew. “You’re in a foul mood.”

“It’s my wedding night.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve got a right to be testy.”

“Not what most bridegrooms say.”

“Most bridegrooms aren’t forced to marry at the end of a
shotgun.”

“Yeah, but you got to marry up with Maddie.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Ace dipped his biscuit in the juicy gravy and took another
bite, chewing slowly, making Caden wait until he swallowed before answering.

“It’s a pretty good deal. She can bake.” He held up a biscuit,
which Caden knew from the one he’d had were better than Tia’s cooked in an oven,
and Maddie had done it over an open fire.

“She’s pretty. She’s sweet.”

“She betrayed me.”

“What makes you think she had a choice?”

“I asked her.”

“Hmm.” Ace dipped the biscuit in the gravy again. “I see.”

“What do you see?”

He shook his head. “It’s not my place.”

“Since when has that ever stopped you?”

Ace looked at Maddie and looked at him, as if measuring the
possibilities.

“I’m thinking you’re being a fool, Caden.”

“I didn’t notice you standing up to marry her.”

“She didn’t want me.”

“No, she wanted me, and she arranged it so she got me.”

“Can you blame her? With the life she’s had?”

No. On one level he really couldn’t. On another, he did.
Completely.

“She doesn’t want a divorce. Said you can’t break your word to
God.”

“He’s not someone I’d be breaking my word to.”

“It was a promise I shouldn’t have made in the first
place.”

“Convenient way of thinking.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Between you, Maddie and God? I’m siding with God.”

“Since when did you find religion?”

“About the time you started thinking promises convenient.”

Fuck.
There was nothing he could
say to that.

“She is a pretty little thing.”

Caden followed Ace’s gaze. Maddie was sitting cross-legged, her
braid drawn over her shoulder, threading her fingers through the strands, a
hairbrush sitting in her lap. If this really were his wedding night, he’d stroll
over there and take over the job. Cuddling that soft ass in his lap while he ran
his fingers through those silky strands before picking up the brush and running
it from crown to end, letting it glide over her nipple again and again until it
was as hard as he was.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Ace smiled. “Feeling possessive?”

“She doesn’t need men gawking at her.”

“Really? Because it seems to me that’s one woman built for
love.”

Caden couldn’t argue that. Thick, wavy red hair, sweet face,
full breasts and hips that flowed to that narrow waist, and just that certain
something about her that made a man think of hot sex. Maddie was definitely a
woman made for love, but there was always a catch.

“She’s had enough of men.”

Ace finished off the last of his stew in three bites. “Did you
ask her about that?”

“It’s not something anyone needs to ask. She’s been raped her
whole life.”

“A husband might be different. A husband can’t rape his
wife.”

Caden wasn’t so sure about that. It was so easy to imagine
making love to Maddie, touching her with the tenderness he wanted to, slowly
unbuttoning her bodice, kissing his way from her mouth down to her breasts,
taking those full globes in his hands and plumping those nipples to his lips,
rolling his tongue across the tips until they were hard and demanding and then
biting them just a little, just enough to make her gasp, before unbuttoning that
dress the rest of the way. Sliding it off her shoulders. Pushing all her clothes
away until she was naked on the bedroll in front of him, legs spread, lips
parted. Anticipating. His cock throbbed and he damn near groaned out loud.

And then he imagined how she’d really look if he did that to
her. The fear and loathing that would be on her face followed by that blank
stare a whore got when they were doing their job. He never wanted to see any of
that on Maddie’s face. “She’s not going to have to worry about that from
me.”

“So you plan on just giving up on making love?”

“Hell, no.”

“You’re a married man, Caden. Stepping outside your marriage,
that’s breaking a vow.”

Caden poked the fire with a stick. “Did you sit over here to
needle me or help me?”

Ace ladled more stew into his bowl. “I haven’t decided
yet.”

Maddie finished that side of her hair and, with a graceful
move, pulled it all over to the other shoulder and started brushing the other
side. Looking closely, Caden could make out the shape of her breast beneath her
dress. If he focused on the curves, he could figure out exactly where her nipple
was beneath the material. Two inches left of the decorative button that draped
the bodice. His fingers tingled. He rubbed them down his thigh.

“Fuck.”

Ace shrugged. “She’s your wife, Caden. For better or worse, and
from the way I’m looking at it, you could do a hell of a lot worse.”

“You shouldn’t be looking at anything.”

“And you should be looking at everything. What’s your
point?”

Caden shook his head and changed the subject. “Find anything
out there?”

“As far as I could determine, nobody followed us. I went back
to the trail and set a false trail. You should be good for a while up here.”

Caden nodded. “Yeah, up until somebody remembers at some point
that Fei had a mine up here.”

Ace nodded. “Yeah. Someone’s bound to put that together with
your presence.”

“Any signs of Indians?”

Ace nodded. “Plenty.”

“Wonderful.”

“Can’t be blaming them. The army’s been pushing them hard for
years, trying to clear the land for settlers. Now, with that fracas in the East
rising up, they’re getting some room to make a statement of their own. It might
not be safe to have Maddie out here.”

Hell, it wasn’t safe to have Maddie out here even if the
Indians weren’t pitching a fit.

“Well, there’s not much we can do about it now. I’ve got to get
this mine started and get it certified as Hell’s Eight’s. To do that I need
money.”

“Don’t you mean get it certified as yours?”

No, he didn’t. Caden cocked a brow at Ace. “So you do have
something else on your mind besides my marriage.”

Ace hesitated, cursed and set his bowl down. Picking up the
spoon, he started weaving the spoon through his fingers. “Why did you leave
Hell’s Eight?”

“It was time.”

“For what?”

“To build something of my own.”

“So it didn’t have anything to do with that promise you made
your dad?”

“Maybe.”

“You don’t have to repeat your father’s mistakes, Caden.”

“Who said he made mistakes?”

“I do and so would you if you didn’t feel so damn guilty about
the way he died.”

“I should have helped him.”

“You were eight.”

“I could shoot a gun.”

“So could I, but my parents didn’t want me in the battle. They
wanted me to live. Just likes yours did you.”

“And I am.”

“Like they did without settling anywhere, chasing rainbows
instead of building a home.”

“I’m a Miller.”

“No.” Ace tossed the spoon in the bowl. “There are people that
spend their whole lives looking for a home without finding it, Caden.” Ace
looked over at Maddie and stood. “You’ve found yours. Don’t throw it away.”

“The marriage wasn’t my choice.”

“That doesn’t make it any less real.”

That was true. “This is none of your business, Ace,” he
repeated.

“Maybe not, but in my opinion, you’re still married to one of
the sweetest women I’ve ever met.” With a jerk of his chin, Ace indicated
Caden’s bedroll. “So when you go over there tonight, don’t bring your anger with
you.”

Caden stood. “Are you threatening me?”

Ace didn’t flinch. “Do I need to?”

Caden dragged his hand down his face. It was a measure of how
far he’d wandered from himself that he couldn’t snap out an answer.

* * *

T
HE
TEN
YARDS
to the bedroll did
nothing to provide an answer. His anger still seethed. The tenderness still
struggled. The urge to lash out still raged. Caden expected Maddie to scramble
away in fear as he got closer. Instead, she smiled and patted the blanket beside
her. She was dressed in her thin camisole. The woman definitely took
chances.

“You want to talk.”

The hell he did. He wanted to shout. He wanted to holler. He
wanted to pound something. But talk? No.

“Not really. Scoot over.” She scooted but not over, just
back.

“You want to sleep?”

Her unconstrained breasts shimmied with the move. He couldn’t
take his eyes off the sight. “Not really.”

She looked up at him. He didn’t hide anything in his
expression. Her fingers stilled on the ruffle of her pantaloons. He expected her
to disappear into that place she went. If she had any sense at all, she would.
He was on edge. Wild. Instead, she said in a voice so rational it was almost
cold, “You want to start our honeymoon.”

“I admit the desire is there.”

She started to unbutton her camisole with a calm he’d have
believed if it weren’t for the pulse pounding in her throat and the barely
perceptible shake in her fingers.

“But I’ve decided against it.”

Her head snapped up. Those pretty green eyes widened.

“Why?”

He hadn’t expected the question from her. Hell, he never knew
what to expect from her. He took off his hat, tossed it to the upper right
corner of the bedroll and ran his fingers through his hair. He finally just gave
her the unvarnished truth.

“Because I don’t know what the hell to do with you.”

“You don’t know...?” She looked at him, mouth open.

“Aw, hell. I mean I’d know what to do if I wanted to do
something with you, but short of that I don’t know what to do with you.”

“I’m your wife. You promised to love, honor and cherish
me.”

“You betrayed Hell’s Eight.”

“You think I betrayed
you.
”

And just like that, Maddie cut to the heart of the problem the
way she always did.

“You did.”

“I guess so.”

“You could at least feel guilty.”

She licked her lips, her hands tightened into fists, and those
respirations were doing double time. “It’s hard to talk like this. It takes all
my concentration to not...drift away.”

“And?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I can’t feel and do...
it.
”

That was a very soft, quiet admission.
Jesus.

Caden put his arm around Maddie’s shoulders and pulled her to
him. She didn’t exactly help, so instead of sliding gently into his embrace, she
tumbled, her head hitting his stomach, her elbow driving into his groin. Pain
slammed through him. He grunted, held his breath, lifted her up and then placed
her beside him.

She pushed her hair out of her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Give me a minute,” he said, his voice tight even to his own
ears.

“What’s wrong?”

He cut her a glance. Her camisole was half off her breast,
exposing all but a hint of her nipple. His fingers itched to trail over that
softness, to tease and tempt, to tug that thin fabric down until she was fully
exposed. Vulnerable. Eager. His senses came alert. His balls spasmed in protest.
Her eyes dropped to his groin. She rubbed her elbow as she put two and two
together.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” A lock of hair was hanging in her eyes. He resisted
the urge to push it aside for all of two seconds. The problem with Maddie was
she was just too darn touchable. Tucking the hair behind her ear, he asked,
“Making sure you don’t receive any unwanted advances tonight?”

Another lick of those tempting lips. He wanted to lean in and
capture that moisture on his lips. To feel her hot breath brush over his skin
with the same intimacy of the humid night.

“What makes you think they’d be unwanted?”

He glanced up, catching...something in her eyes. Desire? Fear?
Resignation? “Probably the fact that I’m not seeing the kind of softness a man
sees from a woman that desires him.”

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s probably because I’m not
seeing a lot of softness from you. The kind a man shows when he desires a
woman.”