“No.”
Cocking her head to the side, her gaze never leaving his, she took another step in until the blue gingham skirts of her brand-new dress brushed his boots. She frowned as her fingers trailed down to his wrist. “You’re upset.”
From across the garden, he saw Tia note the familiarity with a frown of her own. Caden shrugged. They could lecture Maddie all they wanted about proper behavior, but it wouldn’t make a difference. She listened, she truly did, but in the end Maddie was Maddie. Open sunshine and optimism covering a lifetime of hurt. Her conduct was as volatile as her grasp on reality. While he’d never seen Maddie actually proposition a man, she often gave the impression she was propositional. And that was a shame, because she had a heart of gold and deserved to be treasured.
Faint strains of music blended with the hum of conversation. Four of Sam’s vaqueros strummed their guitars. The hum of conversation rose as everyone wandered to the grassy center where ribbons and bunches of cut flowers fluttered in the breeze, defining the dance area. Tia had declared May to be the perfect month for a wedding, and Caden had to agree. The day was beautiful, the weather perfect, and the bride and groom happy. There wasn’t a fly in the ointment. As Caden watched, Ed took Tia’s hand and brought it to his lips with a courtly bow Caden would have sworn the former cowhand could never have pulled off. When Tia smiled at her husband, her expression full of love, the last of Caden’s uncertainty slipped away. He could leave cleanly now. Tia was happy and safe. The last of his debts were paid. The sense of excitement he’d expected failed to come.
“Don’t be sad,” Maddie said, her fingertips smoothing over the inside of his wrist.
“Millers don’t get sad.”
“I can feel—”
“I think there’s some cake left, Maddie,” Caine interrupted, coming up beside them, a whiskey glass in each hand and a gentle tone to his normally hard drawl. Everyone at Hell’s Eight used a gentle note with Maddie. A body couldn’t help it. She had that way of wild things about her that made you think one wrong move and she’d either dart to the right or leave looking for a hiding spot. Plain and simple, harsh words shattered Maddie’s fragile hold on reality. “You might want to think about getting some before Tucker’s sweet tooth takes hold.”
Maddie let go of his arm and turned toward the cake table. Sure enough, Tucker was moving toward it.
“He’s like a horde of locusts devouring all in their path,” she muttered.
The comparison made Caden smile. Tucker was a deliberate man, deadly when he chose to be, but he did like his sweets.
As if hearing his thoughts, Caine offered, “He does like his cake.”
So did Maddie. Brought up as she had been, she’d never had a sweet before fourteen and only that one which she’d stolen. Since she’d come to Hell’s Eight, she’d been making up for lost time. Not content with just sampling what Tia baked, she was learning to create her own confections. When he’d asked her why, she’d said in a moment of total clarity that if she knew how to make what she needed, she’d never be needing again. He didn’t like to think of her being without. He’d asked Tia to up the monthly order of baking supplies. No one had complained after Maddie proved she could turn anything she baked to bliss. She never ate what she baked, though. That he couldn’t figure out. And she wouldn’t say why. Which just deepened the puzzle of what made the apparently simple Maddie so complex.
Maddie glared at Caine, her eyes snapping with the knowledge that he was laughing at her. “That doesn’t mean it’s all his.”
No, it didn’t. “Tia did declare the cake fair game after the first serving.”
She bit her lip, revealing white teeth and the slight gap between the top front two. She always tried to hide that gap. Personally he thought it too appealing in a far too sexual way. Maddie wavered, clearly torn between the two things she wanted. Caden took pity on her. Maddie wanted that cake, and right now he needed to give her one last thing because it might be a while before he saw her again. By the time he came back, she might be more grounded in this world. Maybe even married. He resisted the urge to stroke his fingers over the freckles sprinkling across her cheekbones.
Caden put his champagne glass on the potting table beside him. “Go get your cake, Maddie.”
Still she hesitated, looking up at Caden with those leaf-green eyes, her fear in her gaze. “You won’t leave before I get back?”
“No.” He’d be leaving tonight, though. It was time for him to go.
“Best hurry,” Caine prodded.
Maddie frowned at Caine. She looked like a kitten challenging a cougar as she ordered, “You won’t tell him bad stories? He doesn’t sleep well when you do, and he needs his rest.”
Shit, she made him sound downright feeble. Something that wasn’t lost on Caine if the smile tugging at his lips was anything to go by.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Caden turned Maddie toward the crowd gathered at the cake table. “Go, Maddie, before there’s none left.”
She did, lifting her skirts and showing an indecent amount of ankle in her haste to beat Tucker to the cake. She had pretty ankles.
“I’m not even going to ask how she knows how you sleep,” Caine stated with an arch of his brow.
And he wasn’t going to tell. Caden folded his arms across his chest. “I haven’t been messing with her.”
Caine dismissed the challenge with a wave of his hand. Whiskey sloshed in the cut-crystal glass he held. Caden remembered when they used to drink it straight out of the bottle. “Hell, I know that, but that woman has a powerful affection for you.”
“She’s like a child.”
“Maybe when she first got here. But have you noticed lately she’s more here than there?”
“She’s healing.”
“Desi says she’s forgetting.”
Caden took one of the glasses from Caine. “How the hell does a woman forget being forced to serve men from childhood?”
“A woman who knows how to escape into make-believe?” Caine made a slashing motion with his free hand. “How the hell do I know?”
“Then, why are you bringing it up?”
“Because Sally Mae told Desi that I should.”
Of course she had. Caden sighed and swirled the whiskey in the glass. “Life was a hell of a lot easier before we had women cluttering up the place.”
Caine’s whole expression softened as he looked over at his wife. Blonde and petite, her curly hair temporarily confined in a knot, Desi was the love of Caine’s hard life and he was hers. If ever two people fit together like pieces of a puzzle, it was Desi and Caine.
“I happen to like the clutter,” Caine drawled.
Caden bet he did, but the Miller men didn’t have that kind of heart luck. They were treasure hunters, adventurers, trailblazers. Caden took a sip of whiskey. The only thing the Millers brought women was loneliness and disappointment. “I know.”
“You really going to try to salvage that gold mine of Fei’s?” Caine asked.
Caden swallowed the whiskey, savoring the burn. That was more like it. Enough whiskey could cauterize any wound. “Yup.”
“Sam said Fei blew it to hell and gone.”
Caden shrugged. There were ways around that. “Just presents more of a challenge.”
“A hell of a challenge for one man.”
Caden smiled and took another sip. “Since when did Hell’s Eight shy away from a challenge?”
“Never.” Caine swirled the whiskey in his glass.