by Bobbi Smith
"Stealing that arms shipment was no simple operation. We know that. I don't doubt for a minute that there are more than just the two of them involved," Jim agreed. "As soon as I find out anything else, I'll get word to you."
"It will be interesting to see if Talbott and Forrester get back to New Orleans at the same time."
"If you need to contact me before then, just come to the bank and ask for an appointment with me to set up an account." Jim grinned as he rose from his chair next to the bed. "And in the meantime, Reverend, say a prayer or two for my soul. I need all the prayers I can get."
The two men shook hands. Jim left the room and disappeared down the hallway.
Alone and troubled, Logan locked the door and lay down on the bed. Thoughts of Eden stayed with him. The memory of the pleasure of her kiss, coupled with the possibility that she might be part of the conspiracy, haunted him.
Eden was nervous, but her determination kept her from dwelling on her fear. Each minute seemed an hour as she hid out with Darrell, keeping watch from their vantage point. She was not going to give up-not now, not when she was so close.
And then the doors to the bar swung open and Layton and Moran staggered out.
Eden and Darrell were ready. Eden slipped on her mask and ran to mount her horse. Gun in hand, she waited. Darrell came out of the alley, but stayed in the shadows so the Yankees couldn't see him clearly. The less they remembered about him, the better.
"Layton! Moran!" Darrell called out, wanting to lure them across the street. He was relieved that no one else had followed them out of the bar.
The two soldiers stopped and looked his way. They were so drunk they were unsteady on their feet, and Darrell was glad. That meant they'd be easier to handle when the time came.
"Who is it? What d'ya want?" Moran called out in a slurred voice.
"Come here. I got something to show you, something you'll want to see."
Intrigued, the two changed course and crossed the street. Drunk as they were, they were eager for even more excitement that night.
Darrell backed into the alley, staying away from any light, encouraging them to follow him.
"What d'ya got?" Moran asked in a slurred voice as he followed him.
Darrell hid in a darkened doorway.
Layton and Moran had ventured about five feet into the alley, but then stopped. They looked around in confusion to see where the man who'd called them over had gone, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Puzzled by his disappearance, they started to turn to leave when a gruff voice rang out.
"Hold it right there!" Eden shouted, deliberately deepening her voice.
Peering farther down the alley, Layton and Moran saw a figure on horseback. They tensed as the horse moved slowly toward them. It was then that Moran noticed the rider was masked. He started to go for his gun.
"Don't even try," Eden said tersely.
Moran froze as he saw the gun in the rider's hand pointed directly at him. "What the-"
Darrell had put on his own mask, and he stepped out then, revealing himself, his gun drawn and ready. "Drop your guns right now."
Darrell and Eden were pleased and relieved when the two soldiers obeyed without question.
"Kick them over here," Eden ordered.
They did as directed while Layton protested, "We ain't got much money, but what we got you can have-"
"I don't want your money. There's something else I'm after," Eden said.
"What?" Neither drunk could imagine what these two strangers wanted of them if not their cash.
"Your pants."
Both men went still in shock as they looked between their two captors.
"Take your pants off. Both of you."
"Hell, no! I ain't taking off my pants!" Moran protested.
Eden and Darrell both cocked their guns.
"I'd hate to have to shoot you just to get them," she said easily, "but I will."
The steely edge to the voice, along with the gun barrels pointing directly at them, convinced the two to act. They pulled off their boots, hopping around awkwardly as they did, then stripped off their pants. The two stood unarmed, in little more than their shirts and stocking feet before Eden.
Darrell grabbed up the rope they'd brought with them and quickly moved behind the Yankees to tie their hands.
"We'll get you two bastards for this!" Moran swore as his wrists were bound.
"I don't think we're the bastards here," Eden chuckled, enjoying his outrage.
"Why don't you quit laughing and get down off that horse and fight me like a man?" Layton challenged.
Eden's gaze raked insolently over him as he stood there in his underwear. She deliberately paused in her appraisal to let her regard linger on his groin. She turned her attention to Moran as well, then sneered, "I don't see any men here at all, except for me and my friend. Mother Nature wasn't too kind to either one of you two, was she? Looks like she forgot a vital part or two when she was putting you together."
"Why, you-" Layton started to charge forward in his state of drunken outrage.
"I wouldn't if I were you," Darrell said in a harsh voice, pressing the barrel of his gun fiercely into the man's back. "Just put your hands behind you real slow."
Suddenly terrified at the feel of the cold metal against him, Layton went still and obeyed.
Darrell quickly bound his wrists and gave him a shove. "Both of you, get over by the wall."
"What are you going to do to us?" Moran was finally growing afraid, now that they were completely helpless to stop their unknown assailants.
"Sit down on the ground," Eden ordered.
The two men sat. Darrell bound their ankles and then tied the two men to a post. He made certain that they couldn't reach each other's hands, so they couldn't free themselves. They would be trapped, without their pants, in the alley until someone stumbled upon them.
"Here." Eden rode slowly forward. She handed the note she'd written and had been carrying with her to Darrell along with a pin.
He attached the note to Moran's chest.
"What are you doing?" Moran demanded, scared. "What's that for?"
"It's just a note that tells everybody what fine, upstanding citizens you are," Eden told them.
Moran strained to read it, but he couldn't.
"What's it say?" Layton asked.
"You'll find out soon enough," Eden said with satisfaction. She hoped someone paid attention to her message. The note read:
These drunken men are abusers of women and children.
Darrell gagged both men. He did not want them to be discovered too quickly, and they would be if they started shouting once he and Eden had gone. That done, Darrell grabbed up their pants and handed both pairs to Eden. He got his horse, and together they rode quietly away from the scene. They took off their masks before they entered the street and disappeared into the night. Eden discarded the pants on the riverfront. The drunks were left alone in the darkness, shuddering in terror and humiliation.
Eden turned to Darrell as they made their way through the deserted streets on the way back to the Haven.
"Thank you. I couldn't have done it without you," she told him, her tone serious. She was feeling great satisfaction in having taught the two Yankees a lesson. Maybe when they finally sobered up, they would realize the error of their ways and never drink or hurt anyone again.
"I won't say it was a pleasure, but I'd sure like to be around when someone finds them. It'll probably be after daylight, and whoever shows up first is going to be in for quite a show."
Eden found herself grinning at the thought. "I know."
When they reached the carriage house behind the Haven, Eden dismounted and handed her reins to Darrell. They shared one last look of understanding before he rode away.
Eden made sure she moved silently as she passed through the garden and reached the side of the house. She didn't want to draw any atten tion to herself, dressed as she was and sneaking back into the Haven in the middle of the night.
She heard a horse out in the street in front of the house, so she was extra careful not to make any noise. She quietly pushed the unlocked window up far enough to allow her to climb inside.
The night before, Eden had been very nervous when she'd returned, but tonight, having accomplished her goal, she was almost calm. She pulled herself in through the open window, glad to be back in the orphanage, glad to be safe in the Haven once again.
Logan had sought rest, but sleep didn't come. He tried to keep his thoughts off Eden, but he failed. Over and over, he'd found himself questioning her connection to the arms theft. He wondered if he could trust her or if she really was a part of Forrester's organization.
The sense of unease that filled Logan drove him from his bed, and he left the hotel. He decided to go for a ride, and after saddling his horse, he headed out. His path took him past the Haven. He hadn't consciously gone there, but for some reason he felt drawn to the place that night.
Logan was frowning as he rode slowly by the orphanage. He studied the darkened building, asking the silent structure for a clue, for some hint of what really was going on there.
And then he caught a glimpse of an elusive, darkly clad figure slipping into the house through the side window.
Logan was immediately worried. He feared it was one of the Union soldiers returning to harm Eden and the children. He gave no thought to anything except going to Eden's aid. Reining in, Logan jumped down from his horse and raced toward the window where he'd seen the intruder enter the building.
Eden started to unbutton her shirt as she walked to the dresser to put away the gun and light the lamp. She was more than ready to change clothes. She had to get some rest, for it would be dawn soon.
Logan was determined to get inside the Haven as quickly as possible. Eden was in danger! He regretted that he was unarmed, but he hoped to take the invader by surprise. Relief filled him when he saw that the window was still open. Without pause, he climbed in.
Eden put the chimney back on the lamp and turned it up to a soft glow. She was reaching for her nightgown when she heard a noise behind her. Startled, and realizing she'd forgotten to close the window, she turned to find that a man had climbed in and was advancing on her. Eden made a grab for her gun.
Logan was ready for trouble as he came into the room, but the moment he eyed the stranger standing with his back to him lighting the lamp, he realized he wasn't one of the soldiers. This man was physically too small to be Layton or Moran. Even so, Logan felt no relief. He took a threatening step toward the man just as he turned on him.
"Eden?" Logan went still, and his gaze raked over her as she stood before him, the gun in her hand aimed at the center of his chest.
"Logan!" She'd been shaking with fear from the thought of an intruder in her room, but now that terror turned to confusion. There was no intruder. It was Logan. Relief flooded through her.
"What are you doing here?" Eden asked, lowering her gun and placing it back on the dresser.
"What am I doing here?" Logan repeated in disbelief, frowning as his suspicions about her involvement with the spies returned full force. "The real question is: What are you doing dressed like that, running around in the middle of the night carrying a gun? I was riding by, and I saw you climb in the window. I thought you were a thief or one of the Yankees breaking into the orphanage. I was afraid that someone was going to hurt you."
For all that his doubts about Eden's loyalties were plaguing him, he had to admit to himself, with some surprise, that he had really been wor ried about her safety. He was vastly relieved to discover that she was all right.
As Eden stared up at Logan, she could see the concern in his expression, and she was touched by it. Since he was a minister, though, she didn't think he'd appreciate what she'd done to the Yankees that night, and she didn't want to tell him. She thought it would be better if he left, now that he knew everything was fine at the Haven. "As you can see, there's nothing wrong. So you can go.
"But, Eden-why are you disguised this way?" Logan took a step closer to her. He wanted to find out what she'd been up to, but on an instinctive level, he was also very aware of the way her pants accented the curve of her hips and the way the unbuttoned shirt revealed the lace camisole she wore under it. He grew irritated with himself and struggled to keep his focus on her possible spying. "If you're in any kind of trouble, I can help you. All you have to do is ask me.
"This was something I had to do myself," she said quietly. She found herself lost in the depths of his dark-eyed gaze. The intensity of his regard seared her, leaving her a bit breathless and very much aware of him as a man.
"It had to have been dangerous if you dressed yourself this way. What if something had happened to you? What if everything hadn't turned out all right?" Logan closed on her and lifted one hand to take off her hat, so that he could see her features more clearly in the soft lamplight. When he did, her hair tumbled free in a thick, dark mane about her shoulders, and there was suddenly nothing the least bit masculine about Eden wearing men's attire. Logan stood before her mesmerized, his gaze warming as it traced a path down to the front of her shirt. With an effort, he forced himself to look back up at her face.
"But nothing did happen to me," she protested. Then she added, "But I think Moran and Layton will remember this night for a long time."
"Moran and Layton?" He was shocked.
Eden nodded. "I wanted to teach those Yankees a lesson. I knew no one else was going to stop them, so I had to try. I wanted to make sure they never hurt anyone ever again."
"Eden, those two are very dangerous men. You could have been-" He found himself torn between wanting to throttle her for endangering herself and applauding her for her bravery and determination. She truly was unlike any other woman he had ever known.
"But I wasn't." She smiled at Logan, remembering the sight of the two men in their underwear. "And they didn't look too dangerous when I got done with them."
"What did you do?"
"Considering your vocation, I think the less you know about what happened, the better."
His expression turned fierce. He wasn't feeling very religious right then, and he struggled to act as his own disguise dictated. "Reverend that I am, my vocation calls me to save souls and to worry about innocents who find themselves in trouble."
At his words, she looked up at him. Seeing the intensity of his gaze, her heartbeat quickened, and she found herself remembering the thrill of the kiss they'd shared in the garden.
"You don't have to worry about me," she said in a soft voice, never taking her eyes from his. "I'm not in any trouble. They didn't recognize me.
"Thank God." With a low, guttural growl, Logan reached out and dragged her into his embrace, crushing her against his chest. "And thank God you're safe."
His mouth swooped down to claim hers.
Reason told Logan that this was crazy. This was Eden. She might be his sworn enemy. He told himself, too, that he was supposed to be Reverend Matthews, a man of the cloth, but his desire for her was too powerful. It overruled his meager attempt at logic. Nothing mattered to Logan at that moment except that Eden was in his arms, returning his kiss with equal fervor.
Eden reveled in Logan's embrace. Her heart filled with emotion as she surrendered to his masterful touch. She had gone from terror to ecstasy in a matter of minutes, and the knowledge that Logan had come through that window to rescue her yet another time only heightened the love she felt for him.
Love.
The realization that she loved him shocked her. It was the first time she'd thought of it, but as she lost herself in the heaven of his kiss, she knew it was true. She loved Logan Matthews. Never before had she responded to any man the way she responded to him. He alone could set her soul aflame.
Logan's lips left hers to trail searing kisses down the side of her neck, and Eden gasped at the shiver of sensual awareness that shot through her at his erotic caresses. She closed her eyes and arched back to give him freer access to her throat, rev
eling in the sensual warmth of his lips.
Logan lost himself in the sweet scent and taste of her. The fact that Eden had been in very real danger that night heightened his need for her. He wanted to hold her close and never let her go. Only when she was safe within his arms could he be certain she was protected from harm.
His lips settled over hers again. This time he deepened the kiss as he parted her shirt and slipped his hand inside to seek out the fullness of her breast.
Eden gasped at the intimate contact. She had never been touched that way before, and yet with Logan there was no thought of resisting. With him, it seemed so right. She responded fully to his explorations, clinging to him, enjoying the rapturous feel of his hard, lean body against her. A deep, abiding ache began to grow within the womanly heart of her. She found she wanted-no, needed-more from him. Hungry to touch him as he was touching her, Eden began to work at the buttons of his shirt and then slipped her hands within to trace the muscled wall of his chest with her fingertips.
Logan reacted passionately to her boldness. He swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. There was no thought of leaving her. He only knew that he had to have her, had to be one with her. He lay her upon the softness and then followed her down, covering her body with his. They fit perfectly together, and he braced himself above her on his elbows to gaze down at her passion-flushed features.
"You are so beautiful," he said in a husky voice as he bent slowly to kiss her again.
His words set her heart soaring. Eden had never thought of herself as beautiful. She'd always thought Camille was the pretty one in the family, yet Logan desired her. Logan wanted her. His mouth moved possessively over hers, and she delighted in the power of his embrace. When he drew away from her, she reached out, wanting to pull him back down to her, but he stilled her efforts.
"I want to see you," he told her.
Ever so slowly, he began to remove her clothing. He slipped the shirt from her shoulders and then unfastened the pants and drew them down to reveal her slender, shapely legs. His hands caressed that bared flesh. After stripping away her undergarments, he gazed down at her, commit ting to memory the glory of her innocence and beauty.
