The Devil's Daughter by Laura Drewry

himself.”
    He ignored the argument that crept to his tongue. He’d built his fair share of chip fires before she came along and despite what she said, buffalo chips didn’t stink.
    At least not as bad as cow pies.
    Brushing the smelly thoughts from his mind, he slapped his hat against his thigh, sending clouds of dust around him and the fire.
    “Where’s Maggie?” he asked.
    Lucy shot a sharp glare at the house. “She won’t come out of the house.”
    “Why not?” Jed started toward the door, but Lucy’s words stopped him in midstep.
    “She has it in her head that I’ve come here to hurt her. And she won’t eat because she believes I’m poisoning the food.”
    “What?” Had Maggie truly lost her mind? What would possess her to say these things?
    Lucy shrugged almost indifferently. “That’s what she said.”
    “That’s craziness.”
    Another shrug. “I tried to reason with her, but she only got more upset, so I thought it best if I left her alone for now.”
    Jed was at the cabin door before Lucy finished speaking.
    “Maggie!”
    No response.
    He rapped his fist against the door and called again. “Maggie, you have to eat.”
    “She’s trying to poison me.” Maggie’s shrill voice reached Lucy at the fire. “Go away.”
    “Fine.” Jed sighed. “I’ll make you something myself.”
    “No – I won’t eat anything she’s been near.”
    He pressed his forehead against the door, his palms flattened on each side. “Please, Maggie.”
    “Go away, Jedidiah.”
    “You have to come out sooner or later.”
    “No, I don’t.” Her voice sounded more determined. “I’m quite happy in here.”
    “You’ll have to. . .” he glanced around franticly. . .use the outhouse or get water.”
    A pause. “I’m not coming out so you and your devil wife can kill me and take my baby.” A sob. “I’d rather die.”
    And that was Jed’s biggest fear. He could walk in, of course, but that would just make her panic more. And he couldn’t force food down her throat.
    “Just leave her for now,” Lucy said quietly. “She’ll come around.”
    He wanted to believe that, yet a gnawing doubt kept at him, twisting his stomach and making his head pound. With another sigh, he rubbed his hands over his face and turned back to Lucy.
    “So what are we having for supper?” he asked, his mouth watering at the mere idea of food. ”I could eat the north end of a south-bound skunk right about now.”
    Lucy sank back to the ground and sighed. “Don’t rule that out,” she mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear over the crackling of the fire.
    Jed groaned. No no no.
    He should have listened to his head. He should have stuck to his plan and taken one of the other women at the auction; one who could actually cook – and who wouldn’t have caused such a fuss over starting a fire.
    The fact that none of the other women would have even considered coming home with him was irrelevant.
    “You can’t cook.” It wasn’t a question, since they both knew the answer.
    “No.” With a slow tug, she pulled the rag from her face.
    He kicked a chip with his boot as the hopes of warm biscuits and apple pie drifted away like a feather on a spring breeze. Far, far away.
    “You lied to me.”
    “Yes.” She didn’t look the least bit remorseful, and he didn’t expect her to.
    “Can you cook anything?”
    Lucy’s mouth twisted for a moment before she shook her head. “Nothing.”
    “Not even biscuits?” He could hope.
    She shook her head.
    “Pie?” Please say yes.
    Another shake of her head.
    “But surely you can make coffee.” Desperation tightened his voice.
    “No.”
    Jed blew out a long loud breath. “Can you clean? Do the washing?”
    Lucy yanked the gloves off, rubbed her hand over the back of her neck and offered him an innocent little smile.
    “Well, I never have, but how hard can it be?”
    “You’ve never washed clothes before? Never kept a house clean?” His blood simmered just below a