Sullivan: Cowboy Protector: The Kavanagh Brothers Book 4

by Ball, Kathleen

  Sullivan: Cowboy Protector

  The Kavanagh Brothers Book 4

  Kathleen Ball

  Copyright © 2020 by Kathleen Ball

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all of you who have helped me get it published-Thank You!!!

  And as always to Bruce, Steven, Colt, Clara and Mavis because I love them.

  Contents

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

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  Donnell: Cowboy Scrutiny

  Teagan: Cowboy Strong

  Cora’s Courage

  Luella’s Longing

  Dawn’s Destiny

  Tara’s Trials

  Candle Glow

  About the Author

  Other Books by Kathleen

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  Chapter One

  Sheila Kelly leaned over, bracing her hand against the rough tree trunk. Her lungs burned and her legs felt like rubber. Her breaths came in loud gasps, and it was hard to hear if she was still being pursued. She’d dealt with all kinds, but she’d never been chased by men with rifles.

  “Witch!” someone shouted.

  Pushing away from the tree, she took off running again. Why couldn’t they understand? There hadn’t been a way to save the little girl; she’d been dead before they brought her into Sheila’s cabin. But they’d put the blame on Sheila and gotten themselves worked up. When they had mentioned burning her at the stake, she took off running out the back door.

  Her face, hands and arms were covered in scratches from the limbs of the trees and bushes. A few of the cuts were deep, but that didn’t matter. She had to get away, but where was she supposed to go? Those men would get the whole town roused against her, and they’d surely hang her. She had to get her daughter and then find a way to leave the area completely.

  “Oof!” She hit the ground hard as she tripped over a root. Wetness trickled into her mouth and she touched it with her fingertips. They came back coated with red liquid. Ugh. Her nose was bleeding. And her ankle throbbed. Still, she needed to get away. Think, think, what to do? Would they expect her to run to town to get help? Then she would go the other way. She turned north and ran until she came to a fence.

  Going any farther was impossible; her ankle needed to rest. She slumped against a big oak tree near the fence and slid down until she lay on the ground, hoping the underbrush would hide her.

  Closing her eyes, she prayed for protection. She was a healer, not a witch. She’d healed so many of the people who lived in the area, but today all good deeds went out the window and blew away in a fierce wind to be forgotten because she couldn’t bring a dead child back to life. She was mostly forgotten as it was… unless someone couldn’t get to the doctor or the doctor was away. Otherwise she lived a hermit type of life and had since she was thirteen.

  Breathing became easier and her nose stopped bleeding. When it was safe, she’d make herself a crutch from branches and go where no one could find her. Waiting until dark would be for the best. Now if only she could get her heart to stop hammering.

  The pounding of hooves alerted her. They sounded to be coming from all sides. This was it. She trembled. What would it feel like to hang?

  One horse and rider were on the other side of the fence while the other was almost stepping on her. The quaking of her body wouldn’t stop.

  “Howdy, Russ,” a familiar voice greeted.

  “Kavanagh. I’m looking for that healing woman. She killed little Jenny Wren. I need to talk to her.”

  “Saw her last week. She was home with her daughter. Haven’t seen her since then, though.”

  “Thanks, Kavanagh, I’ll keep looking,” Russ said, sounding determined.

  As soon as the sound of hoofbeats diminished into the distance, she opened her eyes and released her breath.

  Sullivan vaulted the fence. “It’s just me,” he said in a low voice.

  “I need your help, Sullivan,” she pleaded. “Becca is at Widow Muse’s place and I need to get her before they take her away.” Tears escaped her eyes and trailed down her face.

  Sullivan kneeled before her. His blue eyes were full of purpose as he touched a few of her scratches. Their eyes met, and she felt less shaky.

  “I can’t walk, I hurt my ankle. I could walk with a crutch. But I’d rather stay here if you’d get Becca for me.”

  “I’d feel better getting you home first.” His strong jaw set.

  “No, get Becca… please?”

  He reached forward and wiped a tear off her face with his thumb. Then he stood and looked around and picked up a branch that he handed Sheila. “See if you can use this.”

  She nodded. It would serve as a good crutch.

  “Donnell and Murphy are supposed to be checking the pasture for any poisonous plants the cattle can get into. Wave them down if you see them and have them bring you to the house.”

  “Thank you, Sullivan—” But he’d already jumped the fence, hopped on his bay, and was riding away.

  * * *

  Didn’t people understand Sheila didn’t have a mean bone in her body? He hoped he didn’t meet any armed yahoos out in the forest. Russ’ friends were the shoot first ask questions later type. He rode slowly and silently and made it to the widow’s house without a problem. He tied Zealous at the back of the house.

  The rear door opened, and a white-haired woman appeared. “Quick, take her to safety. Those men were already here, and I put them off, but I bet they’ll be back. Bless you, Sullivan.” She shoved a dark-haired little girl into his arms.

  “You be careful,” he told the widow as he mounted the horse with Becca in his arms.

  “Don’t you worry none about me,” she assured him.

  He tipped his hat and slowly rode away.

  Becca kept turning, trying to see his face, and he leaned down to her ear. “We need to be so very quiet. I’m taking you to your ma.”

  Her head dropped forward and he hugged her to him for a moment. She was such a quiet child to begin with. There were kids on the Kavanagh ranch she could play with at least.

  Sullivan was confident his nine brothers would help him keep Sheila and Becca safe. His gut tightened thinking about Sheila and her daughter being in danger. He urged Zealous to go faster. It didn’t take long before he was in front of the ranch house. He swung down with Becca in his arms.

  “You’d best get her inside,” Donnell advised. “Sheila is all kinds of worried.”

  Good, so his brothers had found her, then. He nodded his thanks and practically raced up the steps of the big house. Once in the door, Becca squirmed until she was standing on the wood planked floor. She flew into her mother’s arms and cried.

  “Are you hurt? Let me look at you.” Sheila peeled Becca�
�s tightly wound arms from her neck. “Did anyone touch you?”

  Becca shook her head. “Just Sullivan. I like him, but I was scared.” She dove against Sheila’s body again and buried her face.

  Sheila met his gaze and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  The fear in her eyes got to him. Sheila was as fearless as they came. It couldn’t be easy raising a child alone, though Sheila made it look like it was.

  His relief at Sheila’s safety engulfed him, overwhelmed him, making him feel uneasy. He liked to care, but this was bordering on caring too much.

  Dolly bustled out of the kitchen with a small tray. She set a cup of tea and a glass of milk on the table. When she peered up at Sullivan, he nodded his gratitude. Dolly had been taking care of the family for as long as he could remember. With their parents gone, she had taken on the role of mother and friend. Sighing, she went back into the kitchen, returning in a few moments with a plate of cookies and a cup of tea of her own.

  “It sounds like you both had an awful fright.” She put the cookies on the table in front of mother and daughter, and then she sat on one of the chairs near the sofa. “Did you manage to bring any of your things with you?”

  “It all happened too fast. It was all I could do to escape. Jenny Wren’s father carried her into the house. She was already dead. But he didn’t want to believe me. The next thing I knew he started to yell it was my fault the girl had died. Russ and a few of his friends were outside, and that’s when I heard them talking about burning the witch. I saw them head for my front door and I ran out the back and down a hidden path.”

  “You poor dear.” Dolly commiserated.

  Teagan, the oldest of the brothers, burst into the house and Gemma his wife hurried down the stairs. Sullivan cringed. Gemma shouldn’t have gone down the steps so quickly. She was heavy with child and out of breath. Teagan seated her.

  “Oh, your ankle is black and blue!” Gemma exclaimed, pointing at Sheila’s foot.

  Dolly immediately stood. “I’ll get a cold wet cloth to wrap it. Donnell pull that chair closer so I can put her leg up on it.”

  Dolly came back with the cloth and wrapped Sheila’s ankle.

  “That feels better. Thank you.”

  “What else do you need? You probably know a plant to cure it.”

  “Actually, Sullivan if you have the liniment, I gave you for the horses, that would be wonderful.” She glanced at Dolly and then at Gemma. “I have cuts on my shoulder that need stitches. Are either of you…?”

  “Your best bet is to have Sullivan do it. He has a way of stitching that makes a scar less noticeable.”

  Gemma nodded in agreement. “Dolly and I are constantly using a needle but when it comes to stitches in skin, Sullivan is the one you want.”

  “Sullivan, carry her to the front bedroom.” Dolly instructed. “It has a big bed Sheila and Becca can share.”

  “I’ll get the water heated and gather the soap, cloths, thread and needle,” Gemma volunteered as she struggled to get up from the plush chair. She laughed as she gave up and held out her hands for Teagan to take.

  “Gemma, I’ll do all that,” Dolly instructed. “Donnell, could you go over to Quinn’s place and see if Heaven can bring the kids over to keep Becca company?” She turned and stared at Sullivan. “Well? What are you waiting for? Donnell grab the liniment while you’re out.”

  Teagan and Gemma exchanged amused glances.

  “Teagan, you hurry on ahead of Sullivan and make sure the bed covers are turned down.”

  Sullivan’s lips twitched. Dolly was good in a crisis, but he’d never noticed before how bossy she was.

  “Ready?” He gazed into Sheila’s dark eyes. When she nodded, he lifted her into his arms. “You can help too, Becca.”

  Sheila wrapped her arms around his neck, and he felt her breath. It warmed his whole insides. He made his strides a bit longer; he needed to put her down. He was not in the market for a female, especially a carefree one who thumbed her nose at all of society’s rules. She was very attractive, and he enjoyed talking with her, but that was where it stopped.

  Teagan turned down the bed, and Sullivan gently set Sheila on it.

  Why was he the one who had to stitch her up? Gemma, Ciara, and Heaven all sewed. It was going to be very awkward touching her skin. Hopefully, it was just her arm or something.

  Soon enough, everything was brought into the room and everyone was ushered out except for him. This couldn’t be proper, but Sheila didn’t seem bothered by it.

  “I could ask one of the women to stay in here,” he offered.

  “We’re adults, Sullivan. Open the door if you’re concerned.”

  He did just that, but he still didn’t feel right.

  Chapter Two

  They’d become good friends in the last few years, and now Sullivan acted as though she was contagious. Had she done or said something wrong? His was the one friendship she’d treasured. He wanted nothing from her. He differed from the men in town. Most of them assumed her to be a lonely, desperate woman.

  “I’ll need to take my dress off, but I have proper undergarments and of course we’ll use the sheet to cover me.” Usually she said those words to patients to make them comfortable. How odd to be on the other side of things. She unbuttoned her dress and slid it off, hissing at the searing pain. “Worse than I thought. I can do it myself, Sullivan.” She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  He turned and his eyes went wide when he looked at her shoulders and back. “What happened?”

  “Running through the woods and falling.” She fisted her hands.

  “Painful?”

  “Yes, and I don’t have my willow bark tea.” She drew a fortifying breath and tried to slacken her muscles, knowing it would go easier if she wasn’t tense. “It’s fine, just get started. Clean the wound before you stitch.”

  “I have some whiskey,” he offered. “I bet it would help with the pain, too.”

  A shudder rippled through her. “No, thank you. I don’t drink whiskey.”

  He carefully cleaned two spots on her left side. “I will have to sit on the bed to reach the first one.”

  “That’s fine.” She needed him to just do it and get the whole thing over with.

  The mattress dipped when he sat. She gritted her teeth as the needle went in. Deep breathing helped to manage the pain a bit.

  At the sound of approaching footsteps, she turned her head, surprised when Teagan entered the room. “Gemma sent this up for you to drink.” He handed her a teacup.

  She smelled it and smiled. “Willow bark. Tell Gemma I thank her.” She drank it and waited for its effect. Her body began to relax slightly.

  “Do you need me, Sullivan?” Teagan asked.

  “I’m almost done. Make sure you leave the door open,” he quipped.

  Teagan chuckled. “I’m not worried. You’ve always been the protector, not the one who causes trouble.”

  Sheila turned to give Sullivan easier access to the other side of her back. She tried not to flinch at even his softest of touches, but she couldn’t help it. Despite the willow bark tea, she felt the pricks of the needle and the pulling of the thread. Her mind kept repeating what had happened. Surely, people didn’t believe in witches anymore, did they? That Mr. Wren had certainly gotten people believing enough to search for her, though.

  She needed her rainy-day money, and she needed to take her daughter and run. She’d been wise enough to have bags packed and money hidden, but she hadn’t planned where to go. Texas was a big state, but much of it was unsettled. They weren’t awfully far from Oklahoma. She could go there… find a job that didn’t involve her vast knowledge of healing.

  “What do you know about Oklahoma?” she asked, trying to keep her voice nice and light.

  “Not all that much.” He pulled another stitch through. “It’s not a territory yet, and there are plenty of Indians, Choctaw Indians. It’s settled some, but you can’t expect any help if the Indians decide they want you off their lan
d.”

  “That bad, huh? My family has lived in this area for generations. They must have had to fight to keep their land at some point. I think I’m the first to be run off.” Frustration had a hold on her.

  “You planning on taking a trip?” She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell from his voice he didn’t approve. She’d never needed any man’s approval before and never intended to.

  “I need to take Becca to a safe place. I’m not sure which way I plan to go. I also need to stop by my place and grab a few things and then dig up my money.”

  “You might want to wait a few days. Your house is certain to be watched.”

  Frantic pounding on the front door caused her to jump.

  Sullivan cursed under his breath and held her in place while he tied off the thread and set the needle down.

  “I don’t want anyone here to be hurt,” she blurted, ignoring the sting in her back from where the thread had pulled when she’d moved. “I’ll just give myself up, unless there’s another way out of here. But Becca… she needs to be kept safe. Most folks don’t know I have a child.”

  “Stay put.” He stood and stepped in front of her, staring hard. “I mean it.”

  She gave him a curt nod. But he’d soon learn he couldn’t boss her around.

  * * *

  Sullivan joined the rest downstairs and nodded to the man that he’d come across that morning. “What’s going on?” Sullivan asked Teagan.