Dancing With the Devil (28 page)

“Oh, honey,” Salma fluffed her black hair and nodded. “A girl don’t forget the man who pays her ten dollars to
pretend
she had sex with him.”

“
Ten dollars
?” Rhea gaped. “To
pretend
you had—”

“I know!” The other woman shook her head as though still bewildered by the whole thing. “All he said was I needed to stay upstairs for a while to make it seem like we’d done it.”

“But you didn’t?” Rhea’s mouth hung open in shock.

“Nope. Didn’t even take his boots off.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now?” Rhea cried. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been thinking all this time?”

“I’m guessin’ you were probably thinkin’ what he wanted you to think.” Salma lifted her chin indignantly. “’Sides, you never asked, did you?”

“I-I—” Rhea didn’t even know what to say to that.

A second later, Salma clicked her tongue impatiently
and disappeared back inside, leaving Rhea to stare after her in shocked silence.

Deacon had paid this woman to pretend she’d had sex with him? The relief she wanted to feel, she expected to feel, didn’t come. Instead, she was left with the gnawing question that remained unanswered: why?

C
HAPTER
F
IFTEEN

T
hey walked the rest of the way to the hotel in silence.

The room was dark, but someone had obviously been there. Her dresses hung on the hooks by the door, and her nightgown was folded neatly at the foot of the bed.

She didn’t bother with the lamp, nor did she wait for Deacon to give her any privacy. She simply undressed in the dark, pulled her nightgown over her head and climbed into bed without so much as a word to Deacon.

It had hurt enough when she thought he’d betrayed her, but now that she knew the real truth—that he’d gone out of his way to make her believe such a horrible, horrible lie—the pain was immeasurable.

Rhea pulled the blanket up to her ear and curled up as tight as she could. For a long time afterward, the only sound was the constant tapping of Deacon’s boot heels as he prowled back and forth in front of the window.

Twice he stopped, inhaled as though he was going to speak, and then didn’t. The third time he stopped pacing, he finally pulled his boots off altogether. A minute later, the bed creaked beneath his weight and again as he rolled toward her. Rhea didn’t move. After the day
they’d spent together, the things they’d shared, she couldn’t believe it was going to end this way.

But it was. She loved him, he knew it, and he intentionally set out to break her heart. And she couldn’t even blame him completely because she knew it was going to happen and didn’t guard against it.

From the second he’d stepped foot in her yard, she knew he’d leave again, but instead of letting her brain control her emotions, she’d given her heart full rein.

She had no one to blame but herself.

“Rhea.” Her name was a plea, to forgive him, to try to understand.

She rolled away from him, hoping the meager distance would help. It didn’t. It was hours later before Deacon finally fell asleep, and Rhea was able to breathe normally again.

By the time morning broke, she felt as though someone had wrung her out like a sheet on wash day, but she had to get up and out of that room before he woke up. Such was her hurry that she didn’t even button her boots until she was safely locked inside the store.

Standing behind the counter, she stared out over the store she’d spent her whole life in. She’d deceived everyone in order to keep it for herself, but now, as she let her gaze roam over each section, she had to wonder why.

Her parents had deceived not only each other, but their children as well. Her brothers had helped cover up the deceit, and despite her anger, Rhea knew she was no better. She’d deceived everyone by pretending to be married. She’d used Deacon’s name as her own these past months, but it had never really been hers. And now it never would be.

Deacon told her he hadn’t meant to hurt her, but that was a lie. What he’d done with Salma was an intentional
attempt to cause her more pain than she’d ever experienced.

Rhea sighed. After today, it wouldn’t make any difference. Deacon was leaving, and even if the judge agreed to marry them this afternoon, she wouldn’t go through with it. She refused to live with any more lies. And she refused to take vows with a man who wouldn’t keep them.

The door opened and Ernest stepped inside, a brilliant smile across his face right up until his eyes met Rhea’s.

“‘Mornin’, Miss Rhea,” he said. “How are you feeling today?”

She almost laughed at the question. Should she tell him the truth—that she felt as though her heart had been carved out with a dull spoon?

“I’m fine, thank you, but I do think it’s time you stopped calling me ‘miss.’ ”

His face flushed and he didn’t seem to know where to look. After a moment, he nodded briefly and made his way to the back for his apron. Rhea followed him.

“You’re awfully happy this morning,” she said warily. “What’s going on?”

Ernest handed her an apron and waited for her to tie it before he spoke.

“It’s Polly.” He looked as though he was about to burst wide open. “I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”

It took a full two seconds for his words to settle in Rhea’s brain.

“That’s wonderful!” She threw her arms around him. “Congratulations!”

Ernest edged out of her hug. “Mrs. Hale’s insisting on a big church weddin’, so we gotta wait for Reverend Goodwin to get back before we can even set a date,” he
said. “But we’re hopin’ he’s back soon, because neither one of us wants to wait another minute.”

Of course they didn’t. They were young and in love; everything was perfect. She beat back the cynical voice that wanted to laugh in his face and explain how imperfect love was, how easy it was to hurt each other and how easily vows could be broken.

Instead, she forced a brighter smile.

“What about Houston?”

The boy’s face positively glowed. “I told her pa there weren’t no man in Houston—or the great state of Texas, for that matter—who’d love his daughter more than me, and that’s all he needed to hear.”

“I always knew he was a reasonable man,” she said. “Let’s hope the reverend’s back very soon.”

She hugged him again and then shooed him out front so he wouldn’t have to see her cry.

The more she tried to stop, the faster the tears flowed, until she finally gave up and let them run out. By the time she had regained her composure, Ernest was helping Mr. Worth find something in one of the catalogs, so Rhea was left to wander aimlessly around the store. There was always something to do, stock that needed to be tended or refilled, but her mind wouldn’t focus on any of that.

All she could do was stare out the window and wait for the stage to pull up across the street.

Just after Mr. Worth left, Rhea caught sight of Deacon walking toward the store. He looked about as grim as she felt, but his stride was long and determined. As he neared the newspaper office, a small orange tabby cat crossed the boardwalk in front of him. It froze, arched its back and stalked away, hissing at Deacon.

“No.” She pressed her hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. It couldn’t be…he would have told her, wouldn’t he?

Rhea fought back another sob. Of course he wouldn’t. It was just one more thing he’d kept from her.

Deacon had his powers back.

When they’d gone for the ride out to the lake, the horses hadn’t sensed anything because he didn’t have any powers. But yesterday, out at Colin’s, the cow wouldn’t settle until Deacon went into the house. And now, this cat…

Stumbling back into the display of canned goods, she righted a few that fell, then ran straight to the backroom. She grabbed up an old metal bucket and bent over it as her empty stomach revolted against the bile, causing her to heave again and again.

Her spine ached, her throat screamed, but she couldn’t stop. Ernest begged her to let him fetch the doctor, but she shook her head. She didn’t want to see anyone, especially not Deacon, who strode in seconds later and immediately knelt at her side, rubbing her back.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Her voice shook more than her legs. She wiped her face with the apron, then yanked it off and threw it in the corner. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to trust you again.”

“Rhea, please, Salma was telling the truth,” he said, his voice sounding as shocked and desperate as hers was angry. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

“Salma?” she cried. “She might be a whore, but at least I can trust her. You—”

“What?” He actually had the audacity to look confused. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, did you?” She moved slowly but steadily toward the curtain, keeping her voice to a harsh whisper. “You let me believe you’d had relations with that woman instead of just telling me the truth.”

“The truth?”

“Yes, Deacon, the truth. Believe it or not, I’d rather
hear you tell me you didn’t love me than leave me thinking those things about you and Salma.”

“
Not love you?
” he gaped. “Why would I—”

Her heart was beating so hard, she actually thought it might beat its way up her throat.

“Because you’re a coward! It’s easier for you to run away than it is to stand up and tell the truth.”

“I’ve told you the truth.”

“Oh really?” She set the bucket on the floor and stood to face him. “When did you get your powers back?”

“My what?” This time he did move closer. Too close.

“Your powers.” She backed up a bit more and reached for the broom. Not exactly the best weapon, but she’d use it if she had to. “You told me he’d taken them away from you.”

“He did.”

Rhea forced each word from her tongue with infuriated precision. “When did you get them back?”

He stopped, blinked hard and exhaled. “The cow.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly yesterday,” she spat, “so the stupid cow didn’t mean anything to me. But the cat…” Rhea stopped, gulped a breath. “Were you ever going to tell me? Or was it going to be just one more of those things you needed to protect me from?”

“It was better for you if you didn’t know.” He looked as though he was going to topple sideways, but Rhea didn’t care. Let him fall. Let him hurt.

God knew she had.

“Um, Miss…er…Rhea.”

She whipped the curtain back to find Ernest standing on the other side, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

“The sheriff’s here.” He gestured toward the front door. “Says to tell you the stage is in.”

Rhea’s stomach plummeted straight to her feet. “Oh…I, um…oh.”

It didn’t seem possible she had more tears, yet they continued to pour down her face, so fast she couldn’t wipe them away before more fell.

“Thank you, Ernest.” She forced a smile through her sniffles, knowing darn well it would do nothing to ease the distress from his face. “I’m afraid I need you to mind the store again this afternoon. C-can you do that for me?”

“Of course.” She’d never heard his voice so tight, and she’d certainly never seen him look at someone with as much hatred as he shot toward Deacon. “I’ll be fine, Miss Rhea. Don’t you worry.”

“Thank you.” She whirled at the sound of Deacon’s footsteps and jabbed the end of the broomstick into his chest. “You can go to hell.”

Inhaling a steadying breath, she pushed the broom into Ernest’s hand and walked straight through the store toward Colin, who paced outside on the walk. The last thing she heard as she closed the door behind her was the sound of bones crunching, someone grunting, and then a loud crash.

She didn’t look back.

All the way to the jail, neither Rhea nor Colin spoke. She had no idea what she was going to say to Judge Hicks, the man who’d helped to ruin her mother’s good name; the man who held her own future in his hands.

A sob lodged in her throat. What future?

Before she could answer her own question, Colin ushered her inside and closed the door.

Judge Hicks pushed to his feet and stood awkwardly behind Deacon’s desk. His black suit was covered in a thin layer of dust, and his string tie looked as though it had been loosened and retightened several times. Time had been kind to the man, leaving him with enough gray hair to look distinguished, but not old. The lines on
his face were no doubt the result of his easy laughter, which had always been one of the things her family had found so charming.

Or so she’d thought.

Rhea didn’t speak. She simply moved farther into the room, using all her strength to stay upright.

“Rhea,” Judge Hicks said. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His smile was uneasy, made worse by the way he plucked at the buttons on his vest.

“Judge.”

He offered her the chair, which she immediately took, leaving the judge to lean his backside against the corner of the desk and Colin to stand against the adjacent wall.

“How are you?” Judge Hicks asked.

“I’ve had better days.”

“I’m sure.” The judge blinked slowly. “Obviously we have a marriage issue to discuss, but before we get into that,” he said, “we should discuss your mother.”

Rhea’s hackles instantly shot up. “I have no intention of sitting here and discussing my moth—”

“I loved her, Rhea.” The pain etched across his face as he spoke would almost have broken Rhea’s heart—if there’d been anything left to break. “I know that doesn’t excuse what we did, but I don’t want you to think it was anything less than what it was.”

“Oh, I know full well what it was,” Rhea snapped. “It was both of you dishonoring my father.”

The judge nodded solemnly. “As he had dishonored her so many times.”

“That doesn’t make it right.” Fresh waves of anger and pain washed through her with such force she couldn’t hold on to either one for any length of time.

“No, it doesn’t.” Despite how much she hated him at the moment, she had to admire the courage he had to sit there and endure her anger. “If it’s any consolation,
I wanted to marry her. I begged her to leave your father, but she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t shame him that way.”