by Linda Devlin
"Yeah," Sin admitted grudgingly.
"A bowl of soup seems precious little thanks," she murmured.
"Just don't go painting your pretty pictures around Cash," Sin warned. "He's a hard man, and he doesn't do anything for anybody without a damn good reason."
"Don't curse, Sin," Eden murmured.
"Just be careful."
She draped an arm around Sin and made herself more comfortable against him, slipping her foot between his denim-clad legs. "I'm an excellent judge of character," she whispered. "Ethel was an exception, I admit, but I think Daniel is a very sweet man, beneath all the hostility."
"Sweet?" Sin said in disbelief. "Cash?"
Eden smiled and closed her eyes. A man who would be so protective of a friend, as Daniel was for Sin's sake, had to have a sweet streak. Deeply buried as it might be. She was tempted to tell Sin, here and now, that she loved him madly. He wasn't ready to hear it again, though. Not yet.
She melted against him, drifting toward sleep, expecting him to either release her or roll her onto her back and make love to her. He did neither, but continued to hold her.
"I like it here," she whispered when sleep had almost claimed her again, "in your arms. Here I am warm and safe, and nothing evil or ugly can touch me."
She fell asleep knowing Sin would disengage himself from her as soon as consciousness left her, that he would leave her here alone in the bed. Only sex, he said. If she was too tired to make love, he surely had no need of her.
But when she woke, hours later, Sin still held her.
Chapter 21
In the four days following Ethel's capture, the nights began to turn cold. Nate and Rico transported Ethel to the Ranburne jail, turning her over to Sheriff Tilton. Jedidiah made plans for the trip to Georgia, a trip Eden had yet to agree to, and Sin touched her whenever he got the chance.
They kissed in the tub and slept entwined. They kissed in the kitchen and by the river. They didn't speak of love or of marriage, and as long as Jedidiah was around they continued to be either hostile or indifferent to each other. Sin didn't think Jed would take it well if he knew they were sleeping together until the time came for her to leave, and Eden... Well, she had to take care of Sin before she could take care of Jedidiah. She wasn't yet certain how to do that.
She was afraid any mention of permanence would ruin what they had, and since what they had was so beautiful she wasn't ready to take that chance.
Cool autumn rain had fallen for two of those days. The rain was needed, and she found she liked the constant patter of rain on the roof and the windows of the hotel. Sin said sometimes there were violent storms that shook the town to its roots, but this rain was gentle and steady.
She sat back in the tub, reveling in the feel of warm water on her skin. For tonight's bath she'd splurged and added some of her best rose-scented bath oils. Fragrant steam drifted up and tickled her nose.
The children were asleep, Rico and Nate were having a drink in the saloon, and Jedidiah was playing poker with Sam Sanders and Baxter Sutton and someone else whose name she'd already forgotten, in the back room of the general store. Apparently Baxter's wife, Rose, didn't have anything against a friendly game of poker, as long as it didn't take place in the saloon.
Opening her eyes, she looked at Sin. He sat on the floor and leaned against the wall, one leg cocked up, one stretched out and almost reaching the tub. He'd made love to her right there against the wall, once, in a way she'd not thought possible until it had happened. Her heart leaped and her core tightened at the memory.
He looked at her so hard her heart leaped again.
"Jed's talking about taking you out of here next week, whether you want to go or not," he said.
"Oh, is he?" She tried to sound lighthearted, but the fact of the matter was, she'd have a difficult time fighting both Jedidiah and Sin, if they decided it was time for her to go.
"Yeah. He says we should move before winter gets here, and he's got a good point. You don't want to be sleeping in the back of a wagon once it turns cold."
The past few nights had offered a taste of what was coming. Last night she'd placed her hands on the windowpane in her room and felt a cold jolt that cut to her bones. "Do you agree with him?"
He didn't answer.
"Do you still think"—she casually splashed water over her chest—"that it's necessary for me to leave?"
Again he didn't answer, but he did move slowly from his place against the wall. Each movement was reluctant, hesitant, but he ended up sitting beside the tub with one hand in the water. "Are you ready to go?"
"No." She held her breath and waited for the, "It's just sex" talk. She didn't get it.
"I thought I would be tired of you by now," he muttered, reaching out, slipping his hand beneath the water to touch her side. That hand slid slowly up to cup her breast. He didn't look her in the eye, but watched the play of his hand on her flesh.
"You're not?" she whispered.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "No," he admitted. "But it won't last. We're too different, Eden."
"Different is good." She reached out to touch his face. "I like different. Sometimes it seems like you and I were made for each other. When I lie beside you and put my head on your shoulder, it feels so much like my place in the world. I know a peace I've never known before. When we make love, I know you're the only man I ever want to touch me that way." She stroked her hand down to his neck.
"Maybe different hearts fit together the way bodies do."
Sin looked at her as if he wanted to agree, as if he wanted what she said to be true. There was a hint of skepticism in his eyes, though. He stroked her skin, from breast to navel. "You feel slick."
She grinned. "It's the bath oil."
His hand dipped lower to delve between her legs, to gently stroke her in a way she'd never even imagined before marrying Sin. She parted her thighs and allowed him to touch her, leaning forward to meet him halfway, for a kiss. How could he have a single doubt? Didn't he know how much a woman had to trust a man to offer herself so willingly and without fear?
"Well, we do have one thing in common," she said when he pulled his mouth from hers. She glanced at the door. "Since you finally put that latch on the door, why don't you join me?"
She didn't have to ask twice. He quickly shed his clothes. When he was naked, she moved forward so he could sit at the back of the tub, then positioned herself in his lap. The water lapped dangerously close to the edge, and the ends of his long hair floated on and fell beneath the surface of the water.
"How could I ever get tired of this?" she asked, settling herself more comfortably against him, sending a small wave of water splashing onto the floor.
* * *
Sullivan sat at the top of the stairs, just outside the room where Eden slept. He couldn't join her, not until the others were in for the night and snoring behind their own closed doors. Maybe even then he should stay right here.
What he'd said was the truth; he should be tired of Eden by now. He should be ready to send her packing, eager to get her out of town.
But he wasn't, and the words she'd whispered tonight came back to haunt him. Maybe different hearts fit together the way bodies do.
She'd be sound asleep by the time Rico and Jed and Nate returned. He didn't want to wake her, didn't need to. What he needed was to lie beside her and hold her, to memorize the way she felt sleeping in his arms, to listen to the way she breathed, the way she occasionally murmured in her sleep. He'd never thought to need such a thing from a woman, had never imagined he could get caught up in such simple pleasures.
Rico was the first to return, trudging up the stairs with a tired smile on his face. He didn't have to ask how everything was. Sullivan's relaxed posture against the banister at the top of the stairs was enough to tell him that all was well. He muttered good night, passed Sullivan and started down the hallway, and then did a quick about-face.
Sullivan glanced up.
Rico cocked his hea
d and his smile widened. "Dios. You smell like a woman."
"I do not." True, the smell of the rose-scented water was still in his nose, but...
"You smell like a particular woman who has a fondness for roses."
"It's your imagination," Sullivan said. "Or bad whiskey distorting your mind."
Rico folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. His grin did not fade. "Your hair is damp, just on the ends."
Sullivan searched for and discarded an explanation.
Bending over slightly and unfolding his arms, Rico reached out to barely touch Sullivan's forearm. "And your skin is as soft as a baby's butt."
Sullivan jerked his arm away from the grinning kid. "It is not."
"Well, perhaps not, but it is very... soft." He sniffed again. "And rosy."
Sullivan sighed. He'd never been able to get much past Rico, anyway.
"Smoke a cigar," Rico advised. "Splash on a little witch hazel. If you smell like this when Jed gets back, there will be hell to pay, and I for one am too damn tired to lock horns with Jedidiah Rourke tonight."
When Rico was in his room, Sullivan lifted his forearm to his nose and took a deep whiff. He didn't smell anything more than a hint of Eden's rose-scented water, even though his clothes had been thoroughly doused in it when water had splashed from the tub and onto the floor. The shirt was almost dry by now, and a few spots on his jeans were barely damp. Maybe the odor was there and he just couldn't smell it anymore. He could change his clothes, but if the scent was on his skin and in his hair there wasn't much to be done for it tonight.
He would've thought that anyone as much a lady as Eden would be prim in bed, that she would be shy and reserved and prudish when it came to sex. But she wasn't, not at all. She laughed and cried and moaned. She reveled in her own pleasure and his, and found a new wonder in every time they came together.
Even more amazingly, so did he.
He didn't have any witch hazel in his room, but he did have a cigar. That ought to do the trick. He'd smoked half the pungent cigar before Jed came plodding up the stairs, the grin on his face telling Sullivan that he'd come home a winner.
Jed didn't mention the fragrance of roses as he passed.
* * *
Jed paced in the lobby, again and again rehearsing his lines in his head. When he thought of chickening out, he reminded himself that it was his brotherly duty to do this. He stiffened his spine and wished he was fighting banditos again.
The children hurrying down the stairs took his mind off his troubles. Momentarily, anyway. Millie was bright and her smile was amazing. And as for Teddy, well, the kid needed some time, that's all.
As the kids approached, he lowered himself and offered his cheek for a kiss.
He didn't get one.
Millie pursed her lips and looked him square in the eye. "Teddy said you don't like Pa... I mean, Mr. Sullivan. He said you're trying to make Mama go back to Georgia." She stared at him accusingly, and so did Teddy.
"Well... that's not exactly..."
"I heard you," Teddy said softly.
Jed rose to his full height of six-foot-three, which should be enough to intimidate a couple of nosy kids. It apparently wasn't, since they continued to stare accusingly up at him.
"Georgia is a fine place, and the both of you will be better off there." He nodded his head once for emphasis.
Millie's lower lip trembled. "I like it here. I don't want to go back."
Jed bit back a curse as he narrowed one eye. He'd always been a sucker for blond curls and that quivering lower lip, even when Eden had been little and he'd been no bigger than Teddy. Well, he thought, glancing at the dark-eyed boy who glared up at him, he'd likely been born bigger than Teddy. The important thing was, he couldn't let a little girl, Millie or Eden, make him veer from his path. He knew what was right and that was that.
Millie headed for the dining room, and Teddy stepped boldly forward.
"If you make my sister cry," he said in a soft voice, "I'll make you sorry."
Jed didn't like these little kids making him feel guilty! "Oh yeah?" he asked with a glare. "What are you gonna do, kid?"
Teddy curled his fingers together and lifted the pathetically small fist. While Jed eyed the less-than-threatening fist with a grin he could not contain, Teddy kicked him in the shin.
"Jesus, kid!" he yelped, reaching down to rub his stinging shin. "That hurt!"
Teddy ran to join Millie as she reached the dining room, placing his arm around her shoulder and comforting her in a low, reticent voice.
Jed was about to follow, to give the kids a piece of his mind, when Eden called, "Good morning" from the stairway. He turned to watch her descend with a warm smile on her face.
Sullivan was just a few steps behind.
* * *
She'd never seen her brother so nervous. Once the children had gone to school and Jedidiah had ordered Sin to bed, since he'd taken the night watch, he called her into the lobby and instructed gruffly that she sit on the sofa. Once she was settled, he sat beside her.
"I rode to Ranburne and sent out a few telegrams," he said. "I know lawmen all over the West, and one of them is bound to know where the Merriweather boys are and what they're up to. As soon as I get word that they're in jail somewhere or else have been spotted halfway across the country, you're headed home." He nodded his head as a firm and dictatorial ending to his statement. No arguments, the nod said.
"What if I don't want to go?" she asked softly. "Teddy and Millie are doing well here. I'd hate to make them leave their new home and their new friends."
He rolled his eyes and, for some reason, reached down to rub his shin. "They can make friends in Georgia or you can leave them here. I'm sure there's a family or two around who wouldn't mind..."
She punched her brother on the arm. He flinched. "I will not leave them here!" she snapped. "The last thing either of them needs is to be abandoned again."
"Then..."
"And that old crone Miss Hyter is still teaching in the Spring Hill school. Can you just imagine how she'll treat Teddy? If she even allows him to attend school there. He has mixed blood, Jedidiah. He won't be welcome in Spring Hill."
"Then like I said, leave him here," Jedidiah said through gritted teeth.
"I can t."
He sighed and took her hand, an unusually tender gesture for the big man. "I've gotten off the subject. Before we leave town..." He lifted a silencing finger when she opened her mouth to argue with him. "Before we leave town, I have to make sure of one thing."
Eden waited patiently, watching the color rise in Jedidiah's face, feeling the constant movement of the hand that held hers. She'd never seen him so nervous before!
"I know you thought you and Sullivan were married"—he didn't look her in the eye—"so I won't lecture you."
"Thank you," she said dryly.
He did snap a censuring gaze to her, before dropping his eyes again. "It was just the one time, so it's unlikely that there are any... that you are... I mean, it's not likely that the first time..." His face was now beet red. "Damn it, Eden, are you pregnant?"
The question surprised her, but it shouldn't have. Of course, Jedidiah didn't know that she and Sin had been together many times after that first night, that it would be a miracle if she wasn't carrying a baby.
And yet, she hadn't given it much thought. When they were together there was just her and Sin, her love for him, his need for her. But a baby. "I don't know," she whispered.
"Well, when will you know?"
"I'm not... sure."
Jedidiah snapped at her. "Well, you damn well should know!"
"Don't curse," she snapped back. "And how exactly am I supposed to know?"
Impossibly, he turned redder than ever. Even his ears, almost hidden in a mass of unkempt curls, turned a bright red. "I'm not going to tell you. You... You need to talk to another woman."
"I don't know very many women in Rock Creek, and I certainly know none with whom I'd feel comfo
rtable having such a discussion."
Jedidiah scratched his scruffy beard as he thought, and when he had the answer she saw it in his eyes, just before he said, "Mary. Reese's wife. She has a baby." His color returned to near normal. "You've met her, right?"
"Yes, but I don't know her all that well. Certainly not well enough for the conversation you're suggesting."
Jedidiah nodded his head, pleased with himself. "She'll do just fine."
"What if I am?" Eden asked in a soft voice. "What if there's a baby?"
Her brother narrowed his eyes and his neck tensed. He even flexed his hands. "I'll beat the snot out of that..."
"You will not!" Eden interrupted, horrified. "I asked a serious question and I want a serious answer. If there is a baby, what will happen?"
Jedidiah narrowed his eyes. "Like it or not, you'll have to marry Sullivan for real."
She could just see it—Jedidiah demanding that they wed again, probably with the barrel of his shotgun shoved against the groom's back. She wanted Sin, but not that way. He would never forgive her and besides... She wanted him to choose her, to ask her to stay. She wanted him to come to her without obligation.
"Oh, Little Bit," Jedidiah said with a pat to her hand. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want to marry that... that mongrel." He'd taken her sudden sadness for a reluctance to be trapped into marriage with Sin, but the real dilemma was she didn't want Sin to be trapped into marriage with her. She wanted him to choose. "Damn it, right now I want to pound that son of a bitch into the ground."
"Jedidiah," Eden said calmly. "What happened was not entirely Sin's fault. I wanted..."
He leaned back in obvious horror. "I don't want to hear this."
She couldn't help but smile. "Sometimes I think you forget that I'm a fully grown woman."
He looked her up and down. "You call this fully grown?"
"I'm twenty-four years old!"
He sighed deeply. "I swear, I look at you sometimes and I see a twelve-year-old with pigtails and a collection of raggedy dolls and maimed pets."
"I'm not twelve anymore," Eden said softly. "And even though I don't look fully grown to you, I am certainly old enough to make a few decisions for myself."