He made a face just as Eve walked into the dining room with a stack of plates in her hands. One look at his expression and her radiant smile faded. He barely had a chance to take in how pretty she looked with no flour dusting her skin, before she set the plates down and went back into the kitchen.
His mother had insisted on having a separate room to eat in. She didn’t want to look at the mess from cooking the meal and instead wanted to enjoy the company of her family while they ate. The dining room became the place where their extended family came, and his uncles had built a huge table to hold at least fifteen people, more if they got cozy.
Now there were only five people left in the house, but his sisters Mary and Ann came over at least once a month, sometimes more during the fall and winter. Adam would sometimes avoid the nearly deafening sound of his family eating a meal together.
What he wouldn’t give for all of them to be here now. Instead, it was quiet as a tomb, now that his presence had diffused Eve’s laughter. Adam picked up the plates and started setting them around the table.
That was when his father came in.
Jake Sheridan had been a soldier, in the Civil War, who had immigrated to Texas after the conflict ended. He’d traveled to Tanger with his closest friends and half brothers, who called themselves the Devils on Horseback. After falling in love with Gabrielle Rinaldi, the daughter of the mill owner, Jake married and settled down.
He was everything Adam hoped to be as a man. However, judging by everything that had transpired that day, he still had a long way to go.
Jake was an older, bigger version of Adam, with a lighter red hair marked by silver at his temples. He frowned as he looked from Adam to Rose. “Should I get the bandages now or is your mother past that part?”
Adam snorted and sank into a chair. “I haven’t received my lashings yet.”
His father winced. “Then we’d best get it over with. What’s happened—” His eyebrows flew toward his hair when Eve walked in with a bowl of stew in her hands. The wisps of steam curled up around her jaw, as though caressing her.
Adam wondered what his father saw. A beautiful young stranger with ragged clothes and more curves than most women had. She blinked at the sight of his father.
“There are two red giants?”
Rose laughed like a donkey. “Oh, I do like her, Adam. You have to keep her.”
Eve’s gaze flickered to Rose. She nodded politely, but Rose continued to act like a fool. Adam elbowed her and she sobered.
“Eve, this is my father, Jake, and my sister Rose.” He gestured to the woman who had turned his life upside down and wondered if he would ever be the same. “Pa, Rose, this is Eve Tate. I almost hit her with the wagon and then I crashed it.”
He pretended he didn’t hear the small gasp from his father. There would be consequences for all of it. Oh yep, there sure would.
“Er, nice to meet you, Miss Tate.” His father smiled his most charming smile. “I hope you weren’t hurt?” He looked to Adam.
“No, she wasn’t hurt. It’s a long story. I think we need food to hear it.”
“Fair enough.” Jake took the bowl from Eve. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”
Adam’s anxiety bubbled beneath the knowledge he’d made a very big mistake. He held in the urge to leave Tanger and head for his friend Jesse Marchand’s ranch.
Then his mother walked in with a plate of biscuits. Her gaze narrowed as though she’d read his thoughts.
“You’re not going anywhere until we sort this out, so sit down, young man.”
Chapter Three
Eve hadn’t felt so out of place in her life. Adam’s family was an odd mixture of two red giants and three raven-haired women who could have been Roma. Each of them watched her out of the corner of their eyes, except for the young one, Rose. She openly stared, but with the curiosity of a child.
Most of her life, Eve had been on the outside looking in, finding ways to survive and put food in her belly. None of them involved being invited into a family’s home for supper. It was disconcerting enough to make her uncomfortable.
As they ate the rabbit stew, which was something Eve was at least familiar with, and ate biscuits, which were delicious, they spoke of nothing. The words were inane and more chatter than conversation. With each passing moment, Eve’s stomach tightened a notch until she thought perhaps she might not ever breathe again.
She watched each of the Sheridans as surreptitiously as she could. The girls were different as night and day in personality and made sure to speak their part in conversations. Eve liked the younger girl, Rose, better. She had a natural curiosity about her and she smiled at Eve several times throughout the meal. The older girl, Bella, was quieter and kept her gaze on her food.
When the last of the food had been consumed, Mr. Sheridan glanced at his wife, who nodded. “Girls, go on and wash up the dishes. Leave your mama and me with Adam and Miss Tate.”
At his words, Bella got to her feet and started gathering dishes. Rose stuck up her chin and opened her mouth, presumably to argue, but her mother cut her off.
“Not now, Rose. Do as your father says.” Mrs. Sheridan didn’t raise her voice, but her words carried enough weight that Rose sighed and began picking up dishes as well.
When the two younger girls exited the room, Mr. Sheridan spoke again, “At least try to pretend you’re not eavesdropping at the door, Rose.”
The girl’s cheeks flushed and she left the hallway with her nose in the air, her tail obviously in a twist. Eve was impressed by how the parents had treated their children, firmly but with respect. These were good people, by her estimation. Another rarity.
That didn’t mean she was any less tense. The delicious stew and biscuits now sat like rocks, weighing her down. Her heart thumped painfully as she waited for the conversation to begin. She waited for them to ask her who she was and why she was with the Roma. Eve wasn’t prepared to reveal the truth yet. Probably never.
Mr. Sheridan eyed his son with a frown. “Now tell me what happened. Don’t skip anything.”
She listened while Adam told the tale of the wagon accident, the flour explosion and the foot journey into Tanger. To her surprise, he spoke of her with respect, taking responsibility for the entire mess.
She could do worse for a husband. Not that she wanted one. From what she knew and had observed, men were a lot of trouble. Especially husbands. Yet she was stranded without a way to make money or survive. Adam was an unattached man.
The Sheridans listened as Adam spoke, asking questions now and then. Until today, she’d never experienced such a family as the one who surrounded her.
“You spent the night alone with Miss Tate. You’ve compromised her reputation.” Mrs. Sheridan had been the soul of kindness since Eve walked in the door. She’d helped her clean up, made sure she had quenched her thirst and even made her laugh. She was also the person who owned the mill, not her husband.
Eve was intrigued by a woman business owner, particularly one who was a wife and mother. Mrs. Sheridan was a formidable person in her own right.
“She’s a stranger in town.”
“Everyone saw you walk into town with her, covered in flour and dirt. Do you think there’s anyone who hasn’t heard the story? I can only imagine the different versions that are being whispered as we speak.” Mrs. Sheridan scowled. “I know you didn’t do it intentionally, but you’ve caused her harm and damaged her self-worth.”
Eve opened her mouth to refute that claim but stopped herself. She didn’t even know what she was worth. All she ever allowed herself was the instinct to survive. There wasn’t anything else.
“I still don’t understand why she was alone on the road.” Mr. Sheridan glanced at her with concern. “What happened to your family, Miss Tate?”
Eve decided she needed the Sheridans to continue to believe she was an injured party. It
would give her time and an odd, but safe, place to stay. “I don’t have a family or people. I find work where I can, but you’re right. I was alone with your son and spent the night with him.”
Mrs. Sheridan shook her head. “I’m sorry, Miss Tate.”
She shrugged, but she didn’t feel at all casual. “Thank you for your kindness. Things happen that we can’t control. I can fight against it or I can accept it.”
“I’m sorry. Having no family must be difficult. I only had my parents before I met Jake, then I had a big family, and children to love.” Her olive skin and dark eyes reminded Eve of the women she’d lived with. An unexpected pang of homesickness washed over her.
Eve’s childhood had been anything but ordinary and didn’t involve parents or a family. She was a canvas that had been painted, erased and then painted again. Over and over.
“I’ve been on my own for a few years.” She wasn’t ready to tell them the entire story. Although they’d been nicer than she expected, they were still strangers. The first rule of being a chameleon was to change her colors without notice or noise.
“Do you want to marry Adam? That seems to be the question on everyone’s mind.” Mr. Sheridan casually asked the question as he speared her with his blue eyes, a shade lighter than his son’s.
Eve looked at Adam. He met her gaze, and she recognized he was giving her the choice. She wasn’t truly compromised but the temptation to take what was offered was great. There were very few moments in her life when she had control. She’d waited while the world carried her along on the path selected for her.
This time it was up to her.
“Does he want to marry me?” she blurted before she could stop herself. What was she thinking? She couldn’t marry anyone. It was time to move on.
Adam’s eyes widened and his lips twitched. “You turned that around on me.”
“I won’t pretend I have no home, no family and no place to sleep tonight. But I won’t take charity or worse, pity, from anyone.” Her voice grew stronger as she spoke, “I can’t choose to marry someone I don’t know.”
“Does that mean you’ll stay and get to know him?” Mrs. Sheridan raised her brows. “I think that’s a marvelous idea. It will stop the tongues from wagging, but Adam will have to sleep at the mill.”
“She can sleep in Mary’s old room.” Rose’s voice came through the closed door. “Mama and me can teach her about the mill.”
Mr. Sheridan shook his head. “Are you sure you want to be around us?”
Eve was no fool. A roof over her head, food and kind people were a gift she couldn’t refuse. It would give her time to determine where she would go next and who she would become. “Yes, if you’ll have me. I can work hard and do any chores you need doing.”
“Sounds fair enough.” Mr. Sheridan crossed his arms. “Adam will be a gentleman while you do your thinking. Is two weeks enough time? The town’s Founder’s Day celebration is on that weekend. It would be a nice time for a wedding.”
“We were married in less than a month,” Mrs. Sheridan reminded her husband. “I think I knew the moment I met you that you were the man for me.”
The look that passed between them made Eve question what she was seeing. This couldn’t be real. These people couldn’t possibly be normal. Who offered to take in a perfect stranger, and possibly marry their son, with only half a day’s knowing her? It was beyond strange.
Yet they’d given her a choice. Two weeks to choose the path for the rest of her life. Two weeks to decide if a man was to be her husband or if she would face the world on her own. She didn’t need two weeks to decide since she already knew she wouldn’t marry him. However, she would accept their hospitality for that time. Why wouldn’t she?
Eve managed to nod. “Two weeks.”
* * * *
The morning sun kissed the horizon as Adam rode beside his father. The first half hour of travel had been strained silence. The only sounds were the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the twitter of birds in the trees.
He normally would be talking with his pa about this and that. Today, however, they were on their way to meet his uncle Lee to retrieve the broken wagon and whatever flour they could salvage.
This was not a pleasant trip.
“Before we meet up with Lee, I wanted to talk to you.”
Of course he did. Adam was angry with himself, enough for two. He’d made an absolute mess, cost the family money, reputation and had caused big issues for a young woman caught in Adam’s web. His damn stars would never align, no matter what.
“I apologized for the accident, Pa.”
“That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” His father cleared his throat. “Not that this situation is good for any of us, but I wanted to talk to you about the mill.”
Adam couldn’t help but be surprised. Pa never talked about the mill He simply ordered everyone to do their chores. “What of it?”
“I’ve heard your complaints about the mill, the flour and being trapped.”
Shit.
“I know you don’t like it, but I need you there, boy.” His father’s voice had dropped to a husky whisper. “We work hard as a family and we fail as a family. No matter who’s at fault, we need time to recover from the loss of the flour.”
Adam felt about two inches high. It was true he’d never truly liked the mill or the process of making flour. But he loved his family more than anything and knew he was responsible for a financial disaster that hurt them. His chest constricted with pain.
“I’m sorry, Pa. I didn’t—”
“I don’t want to talk about the accident. I’m asking you to stay on and get the mill back on track. Then you decide where you want to go and what you want to do.” Pa sighed. “My pa never acknowledged me as his son. I had to learn how to be a father with you. I know I made mistakes.”
Adam squeezed the reins to stop himself from reaching for his father. “You are the best father I could’ve asked for. Don’t give me any more shit about making mistakes. I’ve made more than you.”
“You’ve no idea what I did when I was your age.”
He’d never talked about the war with Adam, but it was obvious it had been a huge changing point in his life. It was the reason Jake Sheridan and his friends came to Texas, to Tanger.
“True enough. I’ll stay at the mill, Pa. I won’t ever abandon my family.” Adam had held on to the possibility of following his private dream to work with rocks, but his family was more important.
“I know you won’t, but I wanted to say it. Your mama tells me I don’t talk enough about important things.” Pa grimaced. “It’s not easy.”
Adam saw his uncle Lee and cousin Clint ahead in the wagon waiting for them. The rest of the conversation would have to wait. The entire day would be spent in retrieving the flour and trying to fix the wagon Adam had crashed.
Pa was right. Important things weren’t easy.
* * * * *
Adam stacked the next stone on the wall and wiggled it until it fit in the opening just as he thought it would. Building stone walls was a hobby he’d started ten years earlier when he knocked over a neighbor’s doing a stunt with a wagon wheel, a log and several horseshoes. It had gone horribly wrong, but the end result was Adam discovering his love of rocks, extending to building with them.
It was soothing to see the end result in his mind before he began, and to find the perfect rock for the perfect spot. It also got him away from the mill and the flour that wrapped its powdery arms around him every day. Plus he needed the extra money to make up for the flour he’d destroyed.
“I heard you got a wife and destroyed an entire wagon of flour.” His cousin Spencer’s voice, filled with amusement and glee, made Adam groan.
“Why are you here?”
“I couldn’t miss this.” Spencer stood by, his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face
. He took after his father, Zeke, with his big build, blond hair and brown eyes. Spencer was a ranch hand who had natural skills with horses. Since his father was the sheriff, Spencer did all he could to get away from the strict house rules. He’d left home at sixteen to work.
“Miss what?” Adam picked up another stone.
“Meeting your wife-to-be.” Spencer crossed his arms and smiled like an idiot. “I heard you got yourself a gypsy woman.”
Adam bared his teeth. “You looking to get a couple black eyes or a broken nose? I need to get out some frustration and conveniently you’re here.”
“Oh ho! It’s worse than I thought.” Spencer laughed. “You love this little paragon of virtue.”
“Don’t be an ass. I hardly know her.” Adam hefted the rock in his hand. “But I have no problem in messing up that pretty face of yours.”
Spencer backed away, his grin widening. “You’ve got shit for aim and I can run like the wind.”
“Fuck you, Spencer.” Adam wanted to tussle with his cousin, but he returned to his task instead. He wasn’t in the mood to play games with Spencer. The rest of his life hung in the balance and it damn well wasn’t funny.
“Hey, you’re serious about this.” Spencer returned with a frown on his face. “When Elias told me—”
“How the hell does Elias know?” Another cousin, this one Uncle Gideon’s oldest, was the town physician. As calm natured as he was, Elias was the peacekeeper of the group, the one who kept them from killing each other or from the occasional maiming.
“He eats at Cindy’s Restaurant every day. That’s where gossip happens. Both of us had breakfast with Clint and we heard the news.” Spencer picked up a piece of grass and twirled it between his fingers. “We thought maybe it wasn’t true.” His brown gaze grew serious. “What did you do?”
Adam threw the rock at the half-finished wall, knocking it backward. “Fuck.” He sat down beside his cousin and started pitching small rocks into the dirt. “I lost a lot of flour and I spent the night alone with an unmarried woman. I’m a goddamn bad luck charm.”
Adam, Devils on Horseback: Generations, Book 1 Page 3
