Angel Creek Read online

  She must have been in a stupor from shock, from the pain of Lucas’s betrayal. It was the only excuse she had for sitting there instead of doing something about the situation. She had never been one to sit and rail at fate; she rolled up her sleeves and took matters into her own hands.

  She felt alive for the first time since Lucas had told her what he’d done, the old glitter returning to her eyes.

  Watching her closely, Tillie said, “What? What is it? Do you have an idea?”

  “I do. And there’s something you can do to help me.

  “Anything. I’m at your disposal.”

  A slow smile broke over Dee’s face. “Can you get me some dynamite?”

  Always interested in an adventure, Tillie went with her when Dee followed the creek bed up into the mountains to the source. It wasn’t an easy trip by any means; Dee was certain there had to be an easier way, but she didn’t know what it was.

  They both wore pants, which was a good thing because several times they had to proceed on foot, leading their horses. They climbed and skirted and detoured, sometimes losing sight of the creek bed and having to work their way back to it. But when they reached the fork it was unmistakable. The earthen dam curved across the east fork, sending all of that beautiful water down onto Double C land.

  Dee stared at the structure that had killed her farm. If Lucas had needed the water to survive, she would have built the dam herself, a handful of mud at the time. She had been willing to sell the valley to him. But damn if she would let him destroy something so beautiful, something that she loved so much, just because he thought he knew what was right for her better than she did!

  “Have you ever used dynamite?” Tillie asked.

  “No.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  “Don’t worry. I asked in town. The blacksmith used to do some mining and showed me how it’s done.”

  “Do you just light the fuse and throw it on the dam?”

  “No. I’m going to plant it on the east side of the dam, at the bottom of it. That way, when it blows, it’ll lower the creek bed, too.” She understood very well the dynamics of what Lucas had done, and she was going to do the same thing.

  It took her a while, using a knife, to gouge out two holes in the hardened clay. She wedged the sticks of dynamite in and stretched out the long fuses. She had taken the precaution of burning lengths of fuse so she could time how long it took to burn a foot, and she estimated how long the fuse would have to be to give her time to get safely away from the blast.

  “You’d better start on down the mountain,” she said to Tillie. “I’ll give you five minutes before I light the fuses.”

  “I’d like to watch,” Tillie said. “I came this far. I want to see you do it. I’ll leave when you do.”

  They looked at each other and grinned.

  Dee lit the fuses.

  They ran for their horses, swung into the saddle, and rode for all they were worth. Dee silently counted the seconds.

  Lucas was walking along the creek bank, looking at the water rushing along, oblivious to the battles that had been fought over it. It was deeper than he’d ever seen it before, in some places deep enough to swim.

  He wondered if it was worth it.

  Dee had been going from door to door in town, asking for work rather than coming to him. The irony of it was that he was the one person who couldn’t deny her anything, and she would rather die than ask him.

  He had hoped, despite everything, that she would come to him, that she would cool down enough to realize that he’d done it to protect her. But it wasn’t a matter of temper, it was a matter of a hurt so deep that she was still reeling from it.

  And it was pride. There had never been a prouder creature born than Dee Swann. That didn’t make it easy to love her, but if she had been less proud, less fierce, she wouldn’t have been the same person, and he wouldn’t have loved her to distraction. If she hadn’t been so strong, she wouldn’t have been able to match him in strength of will, and he couldn’t have loved her otherwise. She was exactly what he needed, a true mate.

  But he had struck hard at that pride, and at the independence that was such a large part of it. Dee would not forgive him for Angel Creek; she couldn’t do that and remain the same person. He had expected—demanded—that she be less than the person she was. She had to have the freedom of independence; it fed something within her, was part and parcel of the spirit that made her so strong. How had she put it? Angel Creek didn’t belong to her as much as she belonged to it.

  If he forced her to come to him, to surrender her pride, it would kill something within her.

  The only chance he had was to give it back to her, that independence and pride. She would never come to him except as an independent woman with her dignity intact. She would always insist on maintaining that independence, on keeping some part of herself separate. How could he blame her for that when he was the same? He would never subordinate himself to anyone else, and neither would she. She might be his partner, but never his dependent. He had never wanted it otherwise, but it had taken losing her to make him realize it.

  He looked at the water again. Precious stuff, but not as precious to him as Dee.

  She had turned down his marriage proposal even after he’d told her it wasn’t because of Angel Creek. At the time he’d been so angry that he hadn’t thought about it, but suddenly it hit him. Even if he somehow made it up to her for Angel Creek, she still wouldn’t marry him. He had told her all about his plans, how he intended to make the Double C an empire by using his money to influence political decisions. He had talked about the social functions in Denver, the balls and receptions he and his wife would have to attend because deals had a way of being made in social settings. He had been thinking of Dee at his side, had actually been arrogant enough to think he could make her over into a proper little socialite.

  But Dee couldn’t live that way, and she knew it. It wasn’t just that she wouldn’t enjoy the life; she had to be outside, free, unfettered by the suffocating rows of buildings and the unending rules of society. Had he truly been so blind that he had imagined she would fit in just because that was what he wanted? She had never asked him to change. How could he have been so stupid as to expect it of her?

  He thought about all of his plans, his ambitions, and he weighed them on a mental scale. He had wanted influence only because of the Double C.

  But hell, he was already rich. And Dee would bring much more to the ranch than his ambitions ever could. She would bring herself, her spirit, the children they would have.

  He had to choose, and with blinding clarity he knew that there was no choice at all. He would take Dee over any amount of power or influence he could ever hope to build. He would sign the Double C over to her completely if that was what it would take to get her back. He wanted her as his partner for life.

  His partner.

  He blinked, astonished at the idea that had come to him. It just might work. It was the only thing he’d thought of so far that would even begin to make it up to her.

  He heard the boom, low and rumbling, that came from the mountains. He looked up, expecting to see clouds, but the sky was clear. He didn’t know where the thunder had come from.

  Thunder, hell! Abruptly he realized exactly what it was. His mouth fell open, and he stared at the mountains. Then, helplessly, he began to laugh.

  He should have expected that she would do something about the situation. That big boom was a signal that she was back in fighting form.

  It was the next day when Dee heard a horse being ridden right up to the cabin. She looked out and saw Lucas swinging down from the saddle. She had expected him the day before and wondered what had taken him so long.

  She picked up the shotgun and walked out on the porch. “What do you want?” she asked without preamble.

  He stopped with his boot on the first step, warily eyeing the shotgun. “Now, Dee. If you were going to use that, you should have done it the first time I saw you. It’s bee