Dancing With the Devil (16 page)

Colin’s angry glare moved to Deacon and stayed there. If it was a challenge he was hoping for, Deacon appeared willing to take him up on it. Neither man blinked. It didn’t seem as though either was even breathing.

Finally Colin stepped toward Deacon, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. “Who’s the redhead?”

Rhea pushed to her feet and moved between the men. “That’s Kit,” she explained. “She’s Deacon’s sister.”

“His sister?” Sarcasm oozed from Colin’s voice. “I’m sure she is.”

“She is,” Rhea insisted.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, never taking his eyes off Deacon. “You’ve seen her, Rhea. They’re nothing alike.”

“So what? That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes, it does.” He spat onto the floor, then wiped his mouth. “It ain’t the first time he’s done something like this to you, and I don’t expect it’ll be the last.”

Deacon moved forward just as Colin did, squishing Rhea between them.

“Stop it!” she cried, pushing against their chests. Deacon’s muscles flinched beneath her hand, and his breath hissed sharply, but his face gave nothing away.

“Tell him, Deacon,” Rhea begged. “Tell him about
Kit and…and the other one. Lucille.” It would be much easier to speak if she wasn’t expending all her energy trying to push the two of them apart.

Deacon made no attempt to explain anything. Instead, he pushed closer to Colin, who immediately did the same.

“Oh, for the love of God.” Why were men such yacks? Why did they think everything had to be settled with violence?

She ducked out from between them and waved her hand in the air. “Go on, then. Beat each other senseless and get it over with.”

The words were still reverberating through the room when Colin pulled back and swung just as Deacon dodged to the right. The punch caught the edge of Deacon’s chin and knocked him back a step, but when he found his balance, he came back swinging. He slammed his fist into Colin’s jaw with the force of a freight train. Colin fell back into the desk, righted himself and charged.

Deacon’s breath whooshed out as both men lost their balance, tried to correct it and crashed sideways into Rhea.

She hit the floor hard, pinned beneath Deacon’s weight and a flurry of swinging punches.

“Get off me!” she bellowed, landing a few punches of her own.

Colin scrambled to his feet, followed by Deacon, who immediately whipped her up beside him.

“Are you hurt?” Even as he grimaced through his own pain, Deacon’s hands were touching her everywhere—her head, neck and shoulders—before Colin shoved him away.

“Don’t touch her.” Then it was Colin’s turn to ask, “Are you hurt?”

“Stop it!” She slapped both of their hands away. “Just stop.”

Her new skirt had a large rip down the front, where it must have snagged on something, and the white shirtwaist she’d managed to wash and dry overnight was now even dirtier than yesterday.

“Ugh,” she grunted. Deacon stepped toward her again, but she shoved him away and glared both men down.

“Now you listen to me,” she said through gritted teeth. “Both of you.”

At least they had the decency to look remorseful. Blood oozed from the corner of Deacon’s mouth, and he seemed to be favoring his right side a little. If she hadn’t been so angry, she might have offered him a little sympathy.

“I don’t care one single continental if you believe it or not, Colin, but Kit is in fact Deacon’s sister.”

Her brother’s mouth opened, but slammed shut when she darkened her glare.

“I don’t need you to remind me of Deacon’s past,” she ground out. “Believe me, I’m well aware of what he’s done. I’m not quite as stupid as you seem to think.”

Her glare shifted to Deacon, who looked as though she’d just slapped him. It took her a second to find her voice again. “He’s never promised me anything, and he never will. It’s just not in him, and I’ve known that since the day I met him.”

“Then why do you l—”

“B-because,” she stumbled, then huffed out a breath. It wasn’t just one thing that made her love him. It was a million little things. It was the way he looked at her, the way he let her say what ever she wanted to say without worry of being reprimanded or scolded. It was the way he let her be who she was without trying to change her
or make her more proper, the way he mocked her when she was being too serious, the way he laughed with her when she was being silly and, of course, it was the way he touched her.

Rhea inhaled a long breath before turning her attention to Colin.

“He offered to do this and I took him up on his offer. That’s all that matters.”

“Rhea.” Deacon’s one word ripped a jagged hole through her heart.

Damn him.

“No.” She held up her hand and stared at her boot for a second, fighting back the lump that lodged halfway up her throat. “Don’t. I’m fine.”

He took her hand and pulled it to his chest. “You’re not fine.”

“I
will
be fine—once this is over.”

“And just when the hell d’you think that’s going to be?” Colin scowled. “Once you’re married for real, Rhea, you’re married. That’s it. There’s no turning back, and the only person you’ll have to blame is yourself.”

Deacon squeezed her hand gently, but she wouldn’t look at him. Even when he tipped her chin up, she kept her eyes cast down. She’d be damned if she’d let him see her tears. Not this time.

“This is the easiest solution, Rhea.”

“Easy?” Rhea choked on a sob. “For whom? Me?”

“Well, yes.”

She yanked her hand away and swiped at her eyes. “You think it’s going to be easy for me to be married to a man who isn’t capable of loving me? A man who comes and goes as he pleases, without so much as a good-bye? A man—” She swallowed back a sob. “Do you really think I want to be married to a man who frequents the…whores…at the saloon?”

A deep frown creased Deacon’s forehead. “But you’ve been pretending to be married to me for months now.” He reached for her again, but she twisted away. “So what difference—”

“The difference,” she cut in, “is that with the exception of the last few days, I’ve been pretending to be widowed, not married. It was easier.”

“Rhea.”

“Leave her be,” Colin warned, but Deacon advanced anyway.

At least he didn’t touch her. Thank God for small mercies. She wanted to scream at him, to make him go away—but if she opened her mouth, she’d never stop crying. Instead, she kept her back to him, crossed her arms over her stomach and stared out the small grimy window.

When he next spoke, his voice was so close, she could feel his breath against her neck.

“Look at me, Rhea,” Deacon said softly.

She shook her head.

“Please.” He set his hands on her shoulders and turned her slowly. “Look at me.”

Why was she so weak? After all this time, she shouldn’t hurt so much.

Deacon took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and held her face up to his until she finally blinked up at him. By marrying Deacon, she would at least save her reputation. The only thing left to do would be to concoct a believable story about why he was leaving again.

He looked straight into her eyes as he stroked his thumb over her bottom lip, his touch so tender, so slow.

How could he look at her like that—with so much desire, so much heartache—when he knew it was killing her?

“Nothing happened between me and Salma.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Colin slammed his hands flat on his desk.

Rhea closed her eyes, swallowed once, then again and pushed Deacon’s hand away. And she’d thought it couldn’t hurt any worse.

“I’m telling you the truth,” he said.

“I have to get back to the store.”

Before he could stop her, she yanked open the door and ran outside. She caught a flash of red hair from the corner of her eye, but kept running until she was safely out of his reach.

Damn Deacon.

Damn him, damn the store and, most importantly, damn herself.

Colin lifted the chair and walked it around the desk. “Get out.”

“With pleasure.” Deacon straightened his jacket and headed for the door. His shoulder throbbed from being slammed against the floor, and the new wounds stretched across his back screamed in agony, but he wouldn’t let Colin know that.

“I mean
go
.” Colin slammed the chair down but didn’t release it. Instead, his fingers gripped the armrests with a fierceness that threatened to snap them off. “Leave town. Me and Rhea’ll figure this out on our own.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Of course you can.” Colin laughed bitterly. “You’ve done it before.”

“Then let me rephrase. I
won’t
do it. Rhea needs me.”

“No,” Colin howled. “What she needs is to have someone knock some sense into her.”

Fire blazed inside Deacon, hotter than anything in Hell. “If you so much as touch her—”

Colin pushed up from the chair, giving Deacon a clear view of his battered face. A purple bruise had already started along his swollen jaw up to his eye. “I didn’t mean
I’d
knock her around, you stupid ass.”

“You better not.”

“Why? Because you’re going to protect her?”

“Yes.” If Deacon hadn’t been so furious just then, he might have admired Colin’s concern for Rhea.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Colin fell into his chair and buried his face in his hands. “The only thing she needs protection from is you!”

The bruise on Colin’s cheek was no match for the one growing inside Deacon. He pushed it down deep, crushing it on top of every other regret he had for what he’d done to Rhea. But no matter how hard he tried to compress them, the pile was getting awfully big, awfully fast.

“I don’t mean to—”

“I don’t give a good goddamn if you mean to hurt her or not,” Colin said, his voice sounding as tired as Deacon felt. “The fact is you
do
. So why the hell don’t you just leave—just go away and stay away.”

Deacon gripped the lapels of his jacket and swallowed hard. “I…the thing is…Rhea—”

“Do you love her?” Though asked in a calm, even tone, Colin’s question screamed through Deacon’s head, echoing off his skull until it finally buried itself on top of every other regret.

When Deacon didn’t answer, Colin folded his hands on his desk and sighed wearily.

“Do us all a favor and just leave. Pack up yourself and your
sister
, and go. Give Rhea at least that much respect.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Each word was an effort. In all his life, he’d never defended himself to a human of any sort, and it wasn’t something he was especially
enjoying now. “I have done nothing wrong, and I told Rhea I’d see her through this.”

“And then you’ll leave.”

Deacon stared back at him in cold silence. It was probably a very good thing he didn’t have any powers just then, or Colin would never draw another breath.

“If there’s nothing else.” He didn’t wait for Colin to excuse him, but stepped outside and slammed the door shut behind him.

Yesterday morning, everything had seemed to be working out pretty well. In fact, for a couple of minutes there, he’d almost believed he and Rhea could have a future

And then Kit had appeared out at the lake, and everything he’d tried to build had collapsed into a massive crater that just kept getting deeper.

Damn Kit.

Damn her, damn their father and, most importantly, damn himself.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

I
can’t believe you’re walking upright after what happened this morning.” Kit swooped down on him the minute his boots hit the sidewalk.

“Go away.” Deacon kept walking, hoping against hope his sister would give up and go away. Of course she didn’t.

She skipped ahead of him and turned to walk backward. Several people stopped to stare, but Deacon kept moving. Nosy humans.

“What are you going to do?”

“First thing I’m going to do is find some clean bandages.”

“I meant about the woman. She’s not making this very easy on you, is she?”

For the first time all morning, Deacon felt a genuine smile tug at his mouth. Rhea had never been one to make his life easy. She challenged him, not to be difficult, but simply because she knew he needed it.

Kit’s voice continued to grate in his ears. “You’d be better off just giving up and coming back with me now.”

Deacon grabbed her by the elbow and half dragged her down a narrow alley between the feed store and the
bank. When they were safely out of earshot of anyone walking by, he jabbed his finger toward her face.

“I came here for a purpose, Kit, and you being here is not helping.”

“I’m not here to help.” She stood toe to toe with him, her hands fisted on her hips and her green eyes shooting fire. “I’m here to make sure you remember where you belong.”

“Believe me, Kit, I know perfectly well where I belong, and once I’m done here, I’ll go back.” Deacon sighed. “Did you ever consider that I might be finished sooner if you’d stop interfering?”

“And did you ever consider that today’s turn with the whip was only a taste of what you’re bringing down on yourself?”

Of course he’d considered it; did she think he was a complete imbecile? From the moment Kit took him into the old feed store, he knew what to expect, and his father was nothing if not consistent. Those twenty lashes across Deacon’s back were merely a warning of what was to come if he prolonged his time with Rhea.

Kit’s fiery glare cooled slightly, and her fists relaxed.

“Your punishment this morning must have left him feeling charitable,” she said quietly. “He’s giving you until the end of the week to finish this—not a minute more.”

The end of the week; the same time Judge Hicks was expected. Without another word, he left Kit standing in the alley and hurried toward the store. He needed to find Rhea, needed to ease the frown from her mouth and wipe the tears from her eyes.

How was he ever going to win her trust and soothe her heart if he kept making her cry?

One step inside the store, he was met with the full force of Ernest’s hostility.

“Miss Rhea’s been crying,” he said, blocking Deacon from moving any further. “And nobody makes Miss Rhea cry.”