Lily's Secrets [Elk Creek 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (16 page)

Lily glanced at the window again, silent and contemplative. There was no question that she loved both Wyatt and Dakota. The question was what would she do about it? Could she act on her feelings? Would Wyatt let her? He’d seemed ready to last night before the heaving. Would he really have gone through with it if he hadn’t gotten sick? Or was the idea of being with her at the same time she was with Dakota too horrible for Wyatt to imagine and that was why he got sick?

“After Thayne and Cade left last night we almost…the three of us started to…”

Maia leaned forward, almost coming off of her seat, lips parted as if in anticipation.

“Yes? You started to?”

Lily shook her head again. “But we couldn’t go through with it.” She didn’t want to lay any blame or mention Wyatt’s throwing up. She didn’t know who would look worse in Maia’s eyes or who she was trying to protect.

“Lily, you, all three of you, have to let your inhibitions go. Let your mind wander free with the possibilities.”

Maia had no idea how free Lily’s mind—and libido—had been wandering. That was the problem, wasn’t it? She was on the verge of exploring territory she shouldn’t be exploring.

As suddenly as she had come in and sat down, Maia stood up to leave, moving so unobtrusively, Lily didn’t notice the rocker was empty until she glanced up to see the other woman standing at the door, smiling.

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but I wanted to make sure you know about the dance social next Saturday night.”

Lily gaped, stopping just short of shaking her head. How the woman switched from one subject to the next so seamlessly was beyond her. “The dance social?” Even as she asked, she had a vague memory of the big shindigs the town put on to send cowboys off on a cattle drive. Everyone who was anyone in Elk Creek usually turned out.

She thought herself and Wyatt might barely be welcomed, but didn’t say anything to Maia. If she and Wyatt were scarcely welcomed, what would the town think of Dakota? She refused to even consider going without him. She refused to leave him out of the festivities.

“If it comes up, you can tell Wyatt I let the cat out of the bag,” Maia stage-whispered.

Lily giggled.

“Oh, and speaking of bags, I almost forgot…” Maia made her way back across the room, holding out a colorful, fancily decorated paper bag for Lily.

Cautiously, Lily reached out to take it.

“Just a little swag for when you finally, you know, cross that barrier.”

“Swag?”

“Just some more of my fancy-smancy citified talk.” Maia laughed.

Lily didn’t think she would ever get used to Maia’s fancy-smancy citified ways or her weird vocabulary, but she knew that they both were part of the woman’s undeniable and mysterious charm, that was for sure.

Maia headed back across the room, pausing at the threshold as if she had another second thought. “You know, there’s always a place for you at the shop, Lily, whenever you and Wyatt resolve your differences and you’re ready to take it,” she said.

Lily nodded, but said nothing.

“And I know there’s a place for both men in your bed
and
in your life, when you’re ready to open yourself up.”

The question was would she ever be ready?

Wyatt’s head ached like a son of a bitch! It hurt so bad he was afraid to move for fear of what jarring his body would do.

He knew he couldn’t put off getting up forever. He had a place to take care of because there was always work to be done on a farm, especially when he had left so abruptly yesterday without finishing what needed to be done. He’d barely given the field a lick and a promise, too worried about getting back in the house to see what Lily and Dakota were getting up to.

Grudgingly, he blinked open his eyes then shut them tight as sunlight seared them. He groaned and turned on his side, away from the window. “Turn it off,” he mumbled.

“Only the Great Spirit can do that.” Dakota chuckled.

Wyatt strained and barely heard as the Indian moved to the window and dropped the curtains into place, blocking out most of the sun’s offensive rays. Normally, he loved the sun, liked feeling the heat of it against his skin as he worked out in the fields. He liked how alive it made him feel when he tilted back his head and the warmth washed across his face, but not now.

“How are you feeling, Wyatt?”

For the first time since Dakota had taken up residence in their home, Wyatt actually welcomed the cultured, deep sound of the Indian’s voice. There was something solid, soothing, and dependable about it, like he would have Wyatt’s back if Wyatt ever needed him to.

Wyatt gingerly flipped onto his back, still not opening his eyes until he felt Dakota fluff and stack up the pillows behind him. He wanted to be angry that the other man was treating him like an invalid, but then he remembered sprinting to the water closet last night and throwing up and couldn’t remember anything else.

Who had gotten him cleaned up and into bed when he’d been all but helpless?

Heat rushed to his face right before he opened his eyes to pin Dakota with a glare. He batted away the Indian’s hands. “I don’t need no mollycoddling,” he grumbled. Wyatt knew he was being ornery and ungrateful, but he couldn’t help himself. The thought of being weak and
unconscious
, while another man was awake and alert around his
wife,
left him cold.

“How are you feeling?” Dakota calmly repeated his question, not bothered a lick by Wyatt’s uncouth behavior.

How could he stay mad at someone so calm and unshakable?

It was the same way with Lily. He couldn’t stay angry with her even when he tried.

“I reckon I’ll live.”

“No doubt.” Dakota grinned. “Are you hungry?”

At the question his stomach responded with a loud grumble. He didn’t know if it was in rebellion or agreement, only knew for sure that he couldn’t stay in bed all day letting Dakota wait on him. The very notion stuck in his craw.

Wyatt managed to throw the covers off and get one foot on the floor before a wave of nausea and dizziness whacked him. “Whoa.” He flopped back onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut until the room stopped spinning.

“It is the aftereffects of the firewater.” Dakota put a hand on his shoulder. “Thayne brought something earlier today that’s supposed to make you feel better.”

“Earlier today? What time is it?

“Just past noon.”

Wyatt’s eyes shot open. “What?” He had to force himself not to spring from the bed. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the pain. “I need to get up. I have work to do.”

Dakota squeezed his shoulder. “If you are talking about taking care of the animals and the crop, it has already been done.”

“By who?” He already knew the answer, however, before Dakota responded.

“By me with Lily’s assistance.”

“Oh.” What else could he say, except…? “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. It is the least I could do after everything you and Lily have done for me.” Dakota bowed his head. “I am in your debt.”

“We didn’t do it to get no work out of you or put you in our debt.”

“I know that. Still, you did not have to help me the way you did.”

“You have Lily to thank for that more than me.”

Dakota didn’t say anything, probably already accepting the truth of Wyatt’s statement.

“What exactly happened to you out in the woods that day?” Wyatt blurted, couldn’t help himself. “Who shot you?”

“It was dark and…my assailant was under cover of the forest…”

Wyatt heard the truth in Dakota’s words, but he also heard a mite more behind them, in his hesitation and tone. “You have an idea who did it though, don’t you?” He didn’t mean to sound like he was laying blame, but realized he had succeeded in doing just this when he saw Dakota fidget. Wyatt stared at him, surprised by the Indian’s unusual uneasiness.

“I…I do not wish to incriminate someone on just a…theory.” Dakota lifted his head and fixed Wyatt with an intent look.

Wyatt held his stare and reckoned that Dakota knew exactly who shot him.

Why wouldn’t he just say it? Who was he protecting? It was as bad as dealing with Lily, who wouldn’t say a word against her precious Kiowas or what had happened to her before she came to live with them.

The idea that his woman and Dakota were in cahoots, if just coincidentally, made his blood boil something terrible. It was bad enough knowing that the man wanted Lily and Lily wanted him back. Now they were both hiding something from him besides their lust?

Just as Wyatt was fixing to build up a healthy head of steam, Lily came into the room, her familiar soft lavender fragrance wafting on the air, tickling his nostrils and soothing him at the same time her appearance riled him.

“Oh! You’re awake.”

“For a little while now,” Wyatt said.

“I was just about to give him the mixture Thayne left,” Dakota said.

“Oh, good. Thayne said it would speed up your recuperation and help with the nausea and headache, Wyatt.”

Dakota left the room to retrieve this mysterious concoction, setting Wyatt’s belly to flapping in agitation.

Lily sat on the bed beside him, and when he scooted over to make more room for her, she followed, closing the space between them. She reached out a hand to push a stray lock of hair away from his face and behind his ear.

Wyatt caught her hand and brought it down to his mouth where he placed a soft kiss against her fragrant palm. It smelled like warm apple and cinnamon. “You’ve been baking.”

“Just a pie.”

“Smells like my favorite. What’s the occasion?”

Lily shrugged. “I haven’t baked since…since I’ve been back. I thought it was high time I got back to it.”

She used to love to bake, but then Lily used to love to do a lot of things that she no longer did until recently. Like her singing, Wyatt had been deprived of her famously delicious apple pies before today.

Dakota thought he was in Wyatt and Lily’s debt, but the truth was, Wyatt and his wife were in the Indian’s debt, at least Wyatt was. Since they’d taken him in Dakota had been gradually bringing Lily back to Wyatt.

Lily cupped his cheek.

Wyatt turned into her caress, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, just for a moment appreciating their closeness and not thinking about all the sadness and losses.

“Wyatt, I have to ask you something.”

“Anything.”

“Last night…when the three of us were getting ready to come into the bedroom…”

“Yeah?”

“When you got sick was it because…I disgust you?”

Wyatt opened his eyes and gawked at her. “What in tarnation?”

“Don’t be angry with me, Wyatt. I just need to know.”

“I’m not angry with you, darlin’, not now or last night.” He put a hand under her chin to lift her face. “Look at me, Lilybelle.”

She slowly lifted her head, long lashes brushing her cheekbones before she finally raised her gaze to meet his.

Once he had her full attention, he said, “
I
should be asking if I disgusted
you
.”

“Why would you disgust me?”

He closed his eyes and swallowed, remembering the condition he had been in last night.

Wyatt knew when he’d been bending his elbow with the boys last night he shouldn’t have been drinking so much on an empty stomach. He knew it, yet he’d kept on knocking back the drinks faster than Hank could put them up on the bar, like he had something to prove, definitely sorrows to drown. Then when he’d gotten good and sloshed and couldn’t stand on his own two feet anymore without staggering around, Thayne and Cade had had the kind hearts and good sense to get him home where he belonged and shouldn’t have left in the first place.

He had been a sad sight last night, that was for certain.

What woman in her right mind wanted to be subjected to that? What woman wanted to be pawed at by the likes of him, under those circumstances? Could he really blame Lily for finding solace in Dakota’s arms? He had to have been a sight—and scent—more appealing than Wyatt had been last night.

He opened his eyes to peer at Lily, trying to convey through just a glance how sorry he was, but knowing he couldn’t take the coward’s way out, not anymore. He had to do what he hadn’t been doing for almost a year now. He had to tell her what he was thinking, feeling.

“I came home soaked, not only soaked but smelling like I fell in a vat of moonshine. Why wouldn’t I disgust you?”

Lily smiled, then took and squeezed his hand. “You have a short memory, Wyatt. I’ve seen you in worse condition before we were married. You weren’t always the teetotaler you are now.”

Well, that was for sure. In his bachelor days he’d had spells of being a pretty randy varmint, but even back then he couldn’t remember drinking as hard as he had last night and with so single-minded a purpose to have a hog-killin’ time.

Wyatt slid an arm around Lily’s waist and drew her closer. “As I remember you put up quite a fuss when I came a-calling once in the same condition I was in last night.”

Lily giggled. “Only because I didn’t want my mama and daddy to see you like that and dash all their hopes and dreams for my life as your wife.”

“I especially didn’t want to dash your daddy’s hopes. He would have had my hide.” Wyatt laughed. “I’m lucky you were so good at hiding me.”

“Almost too good.”

Wyatt grinned when he remembered sleeping in the Simpsons’ storm cellar most of the next day after his night on the town. They had had good times as kids, better times as teens, and once they were married, Wyatt hadn’t thought things could get any better. He was in love with and married to his beautiful best friend. The only thing missing had been a little nipper. They had been denied that, at least so far.

Sobering at the thought, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Lily, so sorry about last night, sorry about…about everything.”

“Oh, Wyatt, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s me who should be apologizing to you. I…I’m sorry for—”

He put a finger over her lips to stop her. He didn’t want to hear Lily put voice to what had happened yesterday between her and Dakota. He didn’t want her to remind him of his neglect that had driven her to the other man’s arms for comfort or whatever else she’d sought.