The Devil's Daughter by Laura Drewry Page A

rolled his eyes, but only Lucy saw. “I don’t really have a place to call home.”
    After a moment’s hesitation, Jed’s gaze swung uneasily from Deacon to Lucy, but even as she shook her head, the words fell from his lips.
    “So will you be needing to stay here, then?”
    The grin that split Deacon’s face was enough to make Lucy want to hit him. Hard.
    “Wouldn’t think of it,” he said.
    “Of course not.” It was Lucy’s turn to grin. “Couldn’t let those clothes get dirty, could we?”
    She looked over at Jed just as he released a long breath. Damned conscience of his could have gotten them into serious trouble.
    He bent back over the coffeepot, and for a moment the only sound in the cool night air was him carefully tapping grounds into the rapidly boiling water. There was a certain rhythm to his movements, a gentle yet continuous motion that slipped the grounds into the water in an even pattern, not anything like the way Lucy dumped them all in at once.
    Maybe that was her problem.
    Her thoughts were interrupted by Deacon’s forced cough.
    “It’s a lot of land you’ve got here, Jedidiah.” His expression showed naught but indifference. “Lot of wide open,
empty
land.”
    Lucy’s hard glare went ignored.
    “It’s a fair size.” Jed straightened from the fire and looked around with that air of determination he always wore when talking about his land.
    “Yes, but what will you do with so much emptiness?” Deacon wrinkled his nose, one brow arched in distaste.
    This was a tactic Deacon used all the time, and in fact, one Lucy had used herself when she first arrived. With each small disappointment, a tiny bit of darkness pressed into Jed’s soul. She needed to prevent Deacon from causing too many of them, or Jed would fall to her brother instead.
    “Might seem empty now.” Jed shrugged. “But not for long.”
    His face shone with resolve and pride, and for a moment, Lucy wanted to share those feelings with him; to be so sure of something – so sure of
anything
– that she could ignore the dissenters and make her plan work. Problem was, her dissenters wielded more power than she did.
    “We’re going to turn it into the best spread this county’s ever seen, ain’t that right, Lucy?”
    She couldn’t answer. Words formed, her mouth opened to say them, but the smile he shone her way burned each syllable to her tongue.
    “Miss Blake.” Jed stepped away from Lucy and toward the other woman as she closed the cabin door behind her.
    “This is Lucy’s brother, Deacon.”
    Berta’s face froze against a smile that started but never finished.
    “Deacon,” Jed continued. “Miss Blake is here to help out with my-- ”
    “Cooking,” Lucy interrupted, then ignored Jed when he rose his brow in question. “She’s here to teach me some new recipes.”
    Deacon made no move to rise, but instead bobbed his head in acknowledgment, then laughed coldly. “Jedidiah and Lucille were just starting to tell me about their plans for this. . .land.”
    Pale and skittish, Berta looked on the verge of collapse. Jed was so occupied with staring at Deacon, he didn’t seem to notice. Lucy pushed off her chair and led the other woman to it. Berta sat down hard, then twisted away from Deacon’s direct line of vision.
    “Not feeling well?” Deacon asked with slight sneer.
    “She’s fine,” Lucy answered, putting herself between them. “Just tired.”
    This was Lucy’s job, not Deacon’s. These were her souls to take, not his.
    “Yes,” he said dryly. “I imagine it must be exhausting to work a place like this.”
    “It’s nothing Lucy and I can’t manage.” Jed’s voice was far from friendly.
    “Lucille works?” Deacon snorted. “Doing what?”
    Shame rose within her like a massive tidal wave. It was no secret she hated any kind of work, but the last week of helping Jed had done something to her.
    She still didn’t want to do chores. She’d much rather have someone else do them, but once