“What were you just thinking?”
She stared at the floor. “I was thinking I’ll end up marrying someone and that would kill my soul, but I’d do it for Becca.”
“It would really kill your soul?”
Bringing her head up, she stared into his eyes. “Yes, I think it would. Any man would expect a husbandly relationship and I’d feel obligated, but I’d hate myself every time. Plus, no man would put up with my ways. I’ll have to come up with a new plan, won’t I?” She sighed. “I’m exhausted. Sleep well.”
He automatically turned his back so she could have privacy to change. So she’d marry another and probably end up dead for lack of protection. No one else would understand her need to wander the forests the way he did. She’d shrivel. How could she be herself in a gilded cage? Was it even possible? Hopefully one of his brothers would have good news for them soon.
He'd just decided he’d made a mistake allowing his horses to go back to the ranch when Quinn arrived two days later. He had a doll for Becca, but she hid behind Sullivan the whole time while peeking at the doll Sullivan now had in his hands.
“Any news?” Sullivan asked.
“Not really. We went and cleared out the property so you can rebuild, Sheila. Heaven and the kids helped to harvest your garden. Ciara jarred what she could and dried some of the stuff. Gemma can hardly get out of a chair, but she helped too. Dolly is sewing some new things for Becca. She made the doll. We’d all feel better if you all came to the ranch.” Quinn glanced between both Sheila and Sullivan. “I was told by Gemma that if you for some ridiculous reason decided not to come back, she would drive a wagon out here herself to come get you.”
Sullivan’s lips twitched until he saw the expression on Sheila’s face. It almost looked like betrayal. She seemed shocked and her eyes were full of hurt.
“There is no way to refuse,” she said tonelessly. She turned and looked out the window.
Quinn cocked his brow and Sullivan shrugged in return.
“I’m glad that’s settled. We’ll be here tomorrow to help you move. No one even knew you were gone, Sullivan. Donnell rode Zealous everywhere and most know your horse. He kept his distance, so most probably thought he was you.”
Sullivan watched Sheila while he tried to keep track of what Quinn was saying.
“I’ll be off.” With a nod to them both, Quinn quietly left.
“Sully can I have the dolly?” Becca’s dark eyes were wide with hope.
“Sure darlin’,” he said as he gave her the doll. He bent and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Becca smiled brightly before she climbed onto the bed and examined her doll. Sheila still stood motionless at the window.
“Sheila?”
She turned and wrapped her arms around her middle.
* * *
This whole thing had made her weak. She hastily wiped away the few tears that had fallen. “Your family is taking on too much.”
“They just want to help,” he said gently.
“They have everything in motion without even a word to me. It’s me that makes the decisions for my girl and me, not you and not your family. Maybe I decided to move on? But they cleared everything away to rebuild. Did they pick out plans for the house too? How many bedrooms are they building me? And they ravaged my garden. I have recipes I use when canning and I have my own way of drying herbs.” She was trying to keep her voice down, but it was hard. “They all went too far. Your whole family is just like you!” Wide-eyed, she clasped her hands over her mouth.
Sullivan stared at her and turned away. It hurt that he’d put his back to her. It had been such a struggle to keep herself together these last weeks. He didn’t turn around to face her, and it was her own fault; she’d been unyielding in her stubbornness. Her shoulders slumped. She was like Sullivan, and she’d been fighting him at every step. He wasn’t right trying to fix everything for her, but she might have been more grateful and a whole less annoyed.
Oh Lord, how do I ask for forgiveness without it sounding as though I’m giving in to him? I don’t want him to leave me.
He flinched when she lightly touched his back.
“Sullivan I’m going to put Becca to bed. I hope after that we can talk. My emotions are turning me into someone I don’t know anymore. Please Sullivan?”
He turned and looked into her eyes. She winced at the hurt and pain she saw in his blue eyes.
“How about I tell Becca a story while you get her ready for bed? I won’t even turn around. I know a woman needs her privacy.” He sidestepped Sheila and went to the bed where Becca had stood. She jumped into his arms and smiled before she buried her face in his neck. He held her close for a while and then set her down on the floor. “Get your nightgown.”
Becca laughed and ran to a hook where her gown hung. She jumped but couldn’t get it. Sullivan took it down and handed it to her. She handed it back.
“Mama will help you.” He smiled at her.
“Sully help me.”
The frightened expression on his face was priceless.
“Sully will start his story. I’ll help you so we can listen.” Sheila bit the bottom of her lip before she took the gown from him. Her heart felt heavy ; she’d ruined their friendship.
He reached out and cupped Sheila’s cheek, and for a moment his eyes softened. Hope stirred. Perhaps she hadn’t ruined things.
Sullivan finished his story while sitting on one side of the bed with Becca in the middle. She sat up and shook her head.
“What? You didn’t like my story?”
“Sully, where is that bear from?”
“From? Why the woods, of course.”
“A blue bear?” Becca shook her head at him.
“Bears aren’t blue?” he asked.
“Nope,” she said seriously. She gave him a sad frown. “Mama tell him.”
“Sullivan, I don’t know how to break this to you, but bears are usually brown. Sometimes I get colors wrong too.”
“Me too,” Becca said. “Don’t be sad.”
He reached over and hugged the young girl. “I appreciate you telling me the truth. Now I know that bears are brown. That fact will be useful to me.”
Becca beamed as she put her head back on the pillow. Her eyes closed immediately.
Sheila hesitated by the bed. She rarely had to admit to people she had been wrong. This would not be easy. She sat on the empty chair in front of the fire, then lowered her head and stared at the ashes.
“I’m sorry, Sullivan. I shouldn’t have said all those things about your family. I’m very sorry I insulted you. You’ve done so much for me and so has your family.” She glanced up and met his gaze. “I’m so used to doing everything alone that I don’t know how to accept help. I don’t trust people anymore. I always think there is some motive in any kindness. I was carefree as a child. My mother said I had spunk. After the incident that left me pregnant, I changed, and when my mother died I changed even more.” She looked away again. She probably disgusted him.
The next thing she knew she was being picked up into the air and then set back down on Sullivan’s warm lap. His arms around her melted her frozen heart. He made her feel safe; as though everything would be just fine. He pulled her close to him and rested his chin on her head.
“Sullivan, can you forgive me?” she whispered.
“Honey, there’s nothing to forgive. We all say things we don’t mean. I’m glad you didn’t mean them. Frankly, a few of the things you’ve said have hurt me, but I bet I’ve said things you didn’t like either.”
She’d hurt him? He was so big and tall and a man. Her words had more power than she thought. She’d have to think before she said no and rattled off the reasons.
“I thought I lost you.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. Have you ever talked to anyone about what happened with that man? I’m not asking you to tell me now, but if you want to, I’m here to listen. Sometimes it helps to talk about
things.”
She shivered. She’d rather not remember what happened. “Maybe someday. Where will we go tomorrow? Will you drop Becca and me at my place?”
He stilled. “Do you want me to drop you there?”
“I don’t think I’d feel safe unless I had a door to lock. But I don’t want to impose—”
He cut her off by lifting her chin and kissing her. It was a brief kiss, a tender kiss, and an unexpected kiss, but she could feel the powerful emotions behind it. When had this happened? She leaned against him, not wanting to run, and not wanting to encourage. Their truce was so new.
“Tomorrow will be a long day. I’d best get some sleep,” she whispered as she slipped off his lap. Their gazes met, and for a moment there was nothing else in her life but him. Quickly she got herself together and broke the stare.
She turned, and as she walked to the bed, she heard a soft “Good night.”
Chapter Six
Sullivan watched as Sheila tried not to explode. All day she hadn’t been given any choices. She was given clothes for her and Becca that she hadn’t picked, and since they had already been hanging, she hadn’t even been able to decide in which order to put them in the wardrobe.
“Now this mattress is big enough for you and Becca,” Dolly said. “And I had the bed pushed against the wall so you can sleep on the outside and keep Becca from falling out.”
Sheila stiffened but nodded without saying a word. It must be hard to be told what side of the bed to sleep on…as though it mattered to anyone else where she laid her head. He could tell she was grateful, but she’d bitten her lower lip almost raw.
“Tomorrow I’ll order wood for the house. I was thinking that the house could be made bigger if you like,” Donnell told her as he put a paper with the plans, he’d drawn in front of her. “I was thinking because there isn’t much land to build on, we could build up. A two-story house is always nice. You’d have quite a view.”
Sullivan knew she wasn’t paying attention. Becca was at Quinn and Heaven’s house for the day, and she seemed to find it distracting.
“Maybe you should go over that tomorrow, Donnell, Sheila looks exhausted.” Sullivan sat down next to her.
She gave him a lopsided smile and nodded. “I am weary, and I can’t give your plan the attention it needs.”
Sullivan put his hand over hers and she gave a sigh that could only have been one of relief.
“I think I’ll take a walk.” She pulled her hand away and hurried to the door.
Why was she racing so fast? Was she afraid she’d be told no? He had to admit she’d been treated more like a child than the woman she was for most of the day. She must be at the end of her rope. He’d give her a few minutes before he stepped outside to join her.
A cry rose from beyond the door. “No!”
Sullivan was out the door in a matter of seconds. He stopped and Dolly ran into his back. The sheriff was tying Sheila’s hands in front of her. The two horses he had with him were skittish, dancing back and forth nervously.
“Wait!” Dolly shouted. “I’ll get her wrap and bonnet for her.”
The sheriff’s expression soured, but he nodded.
Sullivan stepped closer. “Why are you taking her in?”
“You’re lucky I’m not taking you too. It’s against the law to hide a fugitive.”
Sullivan reeled backward. “A fugitive?”
The sheriff gave a curt nod and spat on the ground. “She’s charged with the murder of Jenny Wren and with running from the law.”
Dolly came out with packed saddlebags. Then she put Sheila’s bonnet on for her followed by her wrap. “I packed extra clothes and some things you’ll need.”
Sheila nodded, but her eyes held terror. “Becca…”
“She’ll be safe,” Dolly promised.
The sheriff moved to put his hands on her, and Sullivan pushed him aside with his shoulder. He touched her cheek briefly and then he put his hands around her thin waist, lifting her onto the saddle. Then he arranged her dress to cover as much of her legs as possible.
The sheriff grabbed the saddlebags and put them on the horse he’d rode. Then, clutching the reins of Sheila’s horse in one hand, he mounted. He was having trouble controlling them both. He had no business with those two horses. And if he didn’t take care, he would lose his grip on the reins. Sheila held on to the pommel, her knuckles white around it.
“You can visit in a day or two,” said the sheriff. Then he spurred his mount forward. “Haw!”
* * *
Her heart pounded wildly as she bounced in the saddle, her tied hands preventing her from properly holding on. The sheriff couldn’t control these horses. They were both going to meet their demise.
“Sheriff Ganes, please slow down!” she cried.
He paid no heed.
Her poor Becca. What would they tell her? Would she be sent away or would the Kavanaghs take her in? A warmth touched her. She already knew the answer, Sullivan would raise her as his own. But she still would be without a mother if Sheila didn’t find a way out of her situation and return to her child.
She hung on, reliving the kiss she’d shared with Sullivan. She’d seen men kiss their wives on the forehead in a sweet manner, but she had never expected his kiss to be so tender. The heady feeling had coursed through her. His lips had been gentle yet masculine. There hadn’t been many such tender moments in her life except with Becca.
The town came into view, and she started to shake. The day would probably end with her hanged from a rope. In some ways she’d thought her life was just beginning. She’d wasted so much time being put out by Sullivan for his controlling ways. She should have told him what happened to her, and maybe he would have understood. Now talking to the sheriff would be like talking to the wind. The words would be gone before they were heard. She knew how to cure ailments, but she never figured out the curse part, so if she was a witch, she wasn’t a very good one.
They were soon surrounded by a mob of people, screaming for justice. Would she even make it inside the jail? The sheriff’s office door opened, and a burly young deputy pushed through and pulled her from the horse. He gripped her upper arm until the pain brought tears.
“I don’t have all day. Get a move on!” He shoved her through the door, and she fell.
She lay on the cold slate floor for a moment to catch her breath. She tried to sit up, but the deputy put his foot on her shoulder and kept her down. The sheriff entered and snickered at her.
“Moore, let her up and throw her into the first cell there.”
She was dragged more than she was helped up. The cell door opened with a loud creak. She hit the ground again, this time smashing her hip, and the door slammed behind her. It was a while before she managed to get up, her hands were stilled tied.
The tick mattress was heavily stained, and the smell of urine was overwhelming. She stood against the wall, hoping she’d be untied. So far, they’d ignored her and any questions she asked. That probably didn’t bode well.
A crowd was gathering outside and plenty of them shouted “hang the witch,” while others wanted her burned at the stake. A shudder rippled through her. This wasn’t supposed to be her fate, was it? What about Becca? Her poor baby must be scared.
“Could you please untie my hands?”
Sheriff Ganes shrugged, swung his feet off the desk, and stood. He made a big show of stretching before he grabbed the keys and a knife. The sneer on his face made her nervous.
“Put your hands out through the bars.” As soon as she did, he cut the rope and grabbed her wrist. “I don’t want any trouble, you hear?”
She nodded, wanting him to let go of her. Abruptly, he dropped her hands and walked back to his desk. She glanced at the other cells. They were empty, and they didn’t look as filthy as hers. She’d operated on the sheriff once. It had been a long and difficult process, but she had gotten him up and back to work. Had all she’d done been for nothing? Dying didn’t bother her as much as leavin
g Becca behind. It didn’t matter how she was conceived; the moment she had seen her baby’s face, Sheila had fallen in love.
It would have been nice to spend more time with Sullivan. He was a worthy man but that didn’t mean he’d meant anything by his kiss. More than likely he’d felt sorry for her. Still, she would have liked to have seen if it could have led somewhere.
After pacing for a while, she found a small space that wasn’t as dirty. She sat down on the cold floor and leaned back against the hard wall. It wasn’t comfortable, but she hadn’t planned on sleeping much anyway. The noise from the crowd outside didn’t seem as loud, it seemed as it grew later more and more of them left.
Lord, I don’t know what to say. I could plead for my life but I’m sure my life and death are already known to you. Please keep Becca safe and away from healing. I took too much pride in my ability to heal. I have my share of anger I can’t seem to let go. I’m filled with too much doubt. All the things a good Christian should be, I’ve failed. I have faith in You, and I know You know best. That is why I’m not begging for my life. I have tried to keep myself modest and sin free. You know I’ve had so many offers over the years but none that were decent. Becca and I sometimes went without because I refused to go against my teachings as a Christian.
I’ve seen people flinch when I touch them. They don’t think of me as having an ounce of virtue. For the most part I’ve held my tongue. I knew most folks wouldn’t thank me or pay me, but I still went when asked. I figured my healing was a gift You gave to me and I was to share it. Lord, You know I didn’t kill Jenny, and I don’t want Becca to have to live with something I didn’t do. It will be a millstone around her neck. Watch over her and keep her safe.
Thank you for sending Sullivan into my life. He was able to postpone the inevitable, and he showed me just how stubborn I am. I’m afraid to lean on anyone. I never could rely on anyone other than my ma. It’s been safer to do things on my own. He’s a good man and I hope that someday You will bring love into his heart. He’d be a wonderful husband and father. As I sit here, I will still have doubts. I can’t help it. My doubts aren’t about You but the other people. Bless me please, Lord. Amen.
Sullivan: Cowboy Protector: The Kavanagh Brothers Book 4 Page 4
