Devils on Horseback: Lee, Book 4 (7 page)

Lee’s deep drawl pulled her back from her thoughts. She shook her head, trying to resist the urge to get lost in the past, to remember where she was, who she was, and what was important.

“No, it surely isn’t a dress. It is something that should help you, Mr. Blackwood. Now put your coffee down and get the harness finished so you can get to work.”

This time when she touched him his body temperature had risen. The heat came off him, making her own body too warm. Maybe it was the coffee or the stove, or maybe it was because she was touching him again. Her fanciful imagination seemed to want to conjure up all kinds of connections between her and Lee that didn’t exist. Whether or not she wanted them didn’t seem to be important.

She couldn’t help but notice the small baby-fine hairs at the base of his neck. Light blond curls like silk, begging for her touch. Against her will, she skimmed them with her fingers as she reached for the last buckle.

He froze in place and she sighed. The air almost crackled between them.

Genny stepped back and ran a critical eye over her handiwork. It wasn’t pretty but it fit him well and she hoped it would help him. “Well, I guess the next thing left to do is give it a try and hope it works.”

Lee glanced at his left arm, flexed it, moved what was now his hand of sorts, the hook on the end. He looked back up at her, and she saw respect in his expression.

It was a gift, a small one, but a gift just the same.

“Thank you kindly, Miz Blanchard. This is a right fine thing to do.”

As if a curtain fell over his true self, he blinked and all the emotion was gone. He gulped the last of his coffee, took his hat from the back of his chair, and nodded at Genny. As he walked out the door, she wondered what it would be like if he was her husband leaving to work on the farm for the day. An illusion where she could wake up with him in bed each morning and sleep beside him in bed each night. A partner instead of a boss or a master. To have someone who cared she was there, who looked forward to seeing her in the morning, to greeting her in the evening. It was another fanciful notion, but somewhere deep down buried inside the layers of cynicism and hard reality, little Genny Boudreaux smiled at the thought.

* * * * *

Lee couldn’t believe how well Genny’s harness actually worked. It was almost like a sleeve, connected with leather straps and buckles to his shoulder. She’d fashioned a hook on the end from a long nail and given him the ability to strap his arm to the hayfork or use the nail to guide it. The difference in how much he was getting done was truly remarkable.

She was amazing and sexy enough to make him lose his mind. Thank God the brat had interrupted them or he’d have fucked her on the table. That voice, that wide mouth, that talented tongue—she was temptation incarnate and he was helpless to resist her pull.

Oh, he knew she was looking for someone to warm her bed after her husband’s death, and he was a hard, willing body. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to wake up next to her each morning.

Jesus, pretty soon he’d start acting like a lovesick calf.

“Should I be worried that you have a contraption strapped to you or not?” Zeke’s voice interrupted Lee’s thoughts. Thank God.

Lee swiped his sleeve across his brow and glanced up at his brother leaning against the stall door. “I’m getting twice as much done, even if I look like a damn plow horse.” He held up the hook, which made the buckles jangle merrily. “Ain’t it the darnedest thing? Genny made it.”

Zeke’s blond brows shot up toward his hairline. “Genny? Who’s Genny?” Zeke peered at him with that cool stare he had pretty much perfected, the big-brother stare that had become the lawman stare. He used it on people he questioned within his jurisdiction as sheriff.

Lee immediately felt the power of that stare. Zeke always had the ability to get the answers to questions Lee didn’t really want to answer, just by leveling that powerful gaze on his little brother. The excuses Lee scrambled to find in his mind seemed stupid and ineffective. Hell, he’d been through war, death and everything in between with Zeke. They were more than brothers, if that were possible. There wasn’t much they kept from each other anymore. After the war, they’d grown closer, supported each other through tough times. When Zeke had been trying to stay away from the whiskey, Lee was there for him, cleaning up vomit, piss and shit and his heart.

This situation with Genny certainly didn’t compare, although Lee did feel a little like a young kid crowing about his conquest of the night before. Lee touched one of the buckles on the harness.

“Genny is Genevieve Blanchard.”

“Mrs. Blanchard?” Zeke crossed his arms and leaned against the stall door, his expression expectant. “You’ve been here one day. How did she go from Mrs. Blanchard to Genevieve to Genny?”

Lee puffed out a breath. “Damned if I know. Can’t understand why she wanted me to work here in the first place. A one-armed man isn’t good for much, especially on a farm.”

Zeke gestured to the harness securely fastened around Lee’s arm. “Seems like she found a use for you after all.”

“Yeah, that she did. Actually it was the brat’s idea. Genny just made it happen.”

“The brat?”

Lee sighed, knowing Zeke would continue to pepper him with questions. “If you saw this girl, or had occasion to speak to her, you’d know she’s a little pain in the ass. She’s got a mouth on her worse than a drunk gambler with two bits in his pocket and a whore on his lap. Brat is a much nicer word than I could use.”

Zeke laughed. “That’s quite a picture you paint there. Does she chew tobacco and spit when she walks too?”

It did sound ridiculous. Lee felt a hint of a smile. “No, she’s just a little pest, that’s all, but she had a damn good idea. That lady in there has got magic fingers. I mean, uh, she can work magic with a needle.”

“I noticed the new shirt. Trousers new too? Got used to seeing you in those faded grays.” A look passed between them, exactly what those faded gray trousers had seen.

“Yep, she’s a helluva woman, Zeke, and I think I’m in trouble.” Saying it out loud made it seem that much more real.

At Lee’s confession, Zeke straightened up, completely serious, the teasing wiped clean from his face. “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know what to make of her, Zeke. The second I laid eyes on her, heard that voice, I got all twisted up inside. I didn’t know my ass from a hole in the ground. When I got here, she gave me the clothes and damn, I felt like I could do anything, like I was almost normal. And then, last night, she was taking a bath and I knocked on the door.” Lee did not inform his brother of the late-night peeping at Genny as she took that bath. He had at least that amount of self-respect, or maybe it was shame. “And I thought maybe she’d want me to help her empty the tub and drag it out of the cabin. But that wasn’t it at all. She came out and she was in the altogether, Zeke. And sweet Lord above, that woman is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Zeke leaned in closer, keeping his voice low. “What happened?”

“Somehow I got naked too and God, I ain’t never, ever felt like that with a woman, Zeke.” Lee trembled at the memory of the raw power of being with her. Even standing there, covered with sweat and hay, smelling of horse shit, he craved her touch, way down deep inside him. It would sit there and wait and gnaw at him until he gave in. He’d never force her, of course, but if Genny opened that door again, there was no way in hell Lee would say no.

He slid down the stable wall and sat on an upturned bucket.

“She’s a widow, at least six months right?” Zeke squatted next to Lee.

“Yeah, near as I can tell her husband wasn’t worth a shit either. This barn, I know you can’t tell today or maybe you can, but it was in sorry shape. Moldy shit, moldy hay, they only got but one horse and that thing is older than God. The fences are falling apart, the child hasn’t got a lick of discipline. This farm is held together by spit and string near as I can tell.”

Zeke nodded. “Well, sounds to me like Mrs. Blanchard made a choice and you accepted. She’s a widow, you’re not married, ain’t no reason why the two of you can’t have your private pleasures in private. Nobody needs to know.”

Lee let out the breath he’d been holding. He’d hoped Zeke would understand. God knew he didn’t understand it. His brother’s acceptance, approval maybe, was more important than just about anything. Lee had spent most of his life proving what an ass he could be, until they’d come to Texas and everything changed. Until a tiny town on the ass-edge of starvation and ruin had yanked Lee back to the land of the living and given him something worth fighting for. He’d bet every dollar he had, which wasn’t much, that if they hadn’t come to Tanger, he would have been dead already in a saloon brawl, maybe killed by a young buck with a shiny new gun and an attitude. Tanger had saved him just as much as he had helped save it.

Now Tanger was giving him one more gift in the form of a widow named Genny. Perhaps it was Lee’s time to find someone to make him feel human again.

“Thanks, Zeke. I’m glad you came out to see me. It’s, uh, mighty nice of you.” It sounded awkward and stupid as usual, but the sentiment was there.

Zeke grinned and jangled the harness. “What are big brothers for? Now how about you go introduce me to your Genny?”

Lee felt like a boy bringing a girl home to meet his parents. In this case, his brother had filled the role of father for many years. Zeke’s approval was more important than Lee would ever let on. He looked to his big brother for guidance even if he didn’t know it.

They found her on her hands and knees in what remained of the garden. There were apparently still some vegetables left because she was pulling potatoes from the dirt. Her curvaceous ass wiggled with each yank of her hands. Lee must’ve stared at her for a little bit too long because Zeke nudged him with a sharp elbow.

“Miz Blanchard?” Lee thought it best to keep it formal around others as she had done with Sophie.

She answered without turning around. “I’m a little busy as you can see. Can it wait a few minutes? Or maybe Sophie can help you.”
Tug, tug, yank,
oh, the fantasies he could conjure up about her hands.

“Well, no it can’t.” Lee sounded harsher than he intended, but damn, the woman distracted him whenever he was around her. “My brother came by.”

She froze in place, her hand wrapped around a potato, hair hanging down from the kerchief she’d tied around her head. “He’s standing there beside you, isn’t he? And I’m in the dirt.”

“Yes, ma’am, I surely am, but I have no qualms or quarrels with a woman who is a hard worker.” Zeke sounded smooth, covering up Lee’s awkwardness.

With a sigh that could likely be heard round the world, Genny set the potato in the basket with the others. She clapped her hands together and rubbed to try and loosen the dirt, then stood. When she turned to face the two men, her eyes flashed fire at Lee but she just smiled at Zeke.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff Blackwood. I’d shake your hand but I’m sure you don’t want to share the last of the harvest like that.”

Zeke let out a small chuckle. “Since you put it like that, no I probably wouldn’t. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mrs. Blanchard. I remember seeing you at the Founder’s Day celebration with your daughter. She’s the spitting image of you.”

Genny’s face softened at the mention of Sophie. “Yes, she is. She nagged me for weeks to attend since we’d never gone to anything like it. Remembers your brother’s shooting too.”

Lee forced himself not to squirm under her stare. The girl had already told him she remembered so why should he feel embarrassed?

“He’s always had a good eye and a steady hand. Best tracker in the Devils too.” Zeke’s praise went a long way to chasing away Lee’s discomfort.

“The Devils?” Genny looked between them. “I’m not going to hell for hiring him, am I?”

If Lee didn’t know any better, he would swear she winked at him. Jesus, the woman flaunted convention right and left.

He could fall in love with her so easily.

“The Devils on Horseback was the nickname of our group during the war, ma’am. We sort of used it to name our business, D.H. Enterprises, when we were looking for work after it was over.” Zeke tugged at the brim of his hat. The memories of the dark months after the war when starvation rode their backs were likely prickling at his mind too.

“I don’t think I have to ask why you were called that. I’ve heard you and your friends ride as if you were born in the saddle. So there were four of you?” Genny tried to brush the dirt off the front of her faded blue dress, but it seemed to be permanently embedded in the fabric.

“Five of us actually. One of the Devils, Nate Marchand, lives over in Grayton with his wife.” Zeke smiled. “You remind me a bit of his Elisa actually.”

“I assume that’s a compliment. Marchand? Sounds French.” Her curls began to tighten as the breeze dried the sweat on her forehead. They swayed gently, tickling her cheeks until she batted them away.

Lee noted that Zeke’s gaze followed the movement. What the hell was that about? “Oh yep, it’s a compliment. She’s a fighter, strongest woman I’ve ever met. And Marchand is French. Lee used to call him Frenchie all the time.” Zeke pushed at Lee’s shoulder. “The two of them were like brothers who bickered constantly.”

Genny’s brows rose and a smile played around her lips. “I can’t imagine Lee bickering with anyone.”

That comment stung. “I’m not that bad.”

“Oh yes you are.” Zeke folded his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Nobody can be a bigger pain in the ass than you.”

Then Genny shared a look with Zeke. It was an unspoken communication, one that scraped at Lee’s heart like a rusty nail. “What the hell are you doing, Zeke?”

Zeke frowned. “I’m having a conversation with your Genny.”

Lee’s breath caught in his throat at the expression on her face. He shouldn’t have told his brother anything. “She’s not my Genny.”

“No, I’m not, and I don’t appreciate you two talking over me.” Genny’s brows drew together.

“I wasn’t the one flirting with my brother.”