Taming Elijah (The Kincaids Book 1)

by Stacy Reid

  “Oh!”

  Women like you were not built for this land. For this life. The words Elijah had spoken resounded in her. He had not only been referring to her. Something went hollow inside of her. If he thought her fragile like his wife, he would never sell to her, or marry her. She moved almost sluggishly out of Miguel’s room, deaf to his calls.

  She was everything Elijah did not want. Her hands fluttered to her stomach and her heart clenched in pain.

  Oh, Elijah, I’m so sorry for your pain.

  Chapter Ten

  Another vase with rose was resting on the small table by Elijah’s bedside. His damn room was starting to smell and look like a garden. Since their night of poker, though he had won four rounds out of the six they had played, he had been at Sheridan’s table for dinner the last few nights. Though he was careful not to repeat the intimate seclusion they had shared in the parlor, last night, he had almost caved and went to her room, simply because he had stayed in the shadows of the front porch and watched her waltzing by herself under the stars. With a grunt, he strolled toward the library. A sharp piercing cry rent the air, he faltered and swung his head in the direction of the living area. He went inside and walked over to the cot where a baby lay, fists and hands pumping in the air and wailing from a too healthy pair of lungs.

  His gut clenched. He had avoided the baby with a ruthless will, not truly acknowledging the dread of seeing a child that would remind him of his son in so tangible a form. The wail got louder, and after taking a deep bracing breath, Elijah shifted the baby’s blanket, reached to pick him up and froze.

  Ah Christ.

  He was looking at a Kincaid. Deep inside he hadn’t really believed it. He lifted the baby to his face, eyes the replica of his stared at him curiously. His heart itched. The crying stopped and gentle hiccups slipped from his lips. He forced himself to be detached, twisting the child, looking at the back of his knee, and then elbows. He observed the crescent shaped birthmark on the back of his left elbow and studied the rest of his features. Dark blonde hair and forest green eyes, slightly cleft chin. Hell.

  The room faded away, and strings of joyous gurgling filtered on the air as images of his son filled his memories. They were good memories, and he was grateful they were not the echoes of his nightmares. The door was wrenched opened bringing everything back into focus and Beth bustled. “Oh.” She drew up sharply when she spied him.

  Expressions chased across her face too swiftly for him to place them. She squared her shoulders and hurried over giving him a wobbly smile. “I am sorry if he disturbed you, Elijah. I was warming his bottle.”

  He carefully handed her the baby and watched as she bustled with him towards the sofa. “I wasn’t disturbed. He is a beautiful baby.”

  She looked at him with suspicious eyes.

  He worked to disguise the shock from his voice. “He’s your son?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a tentative smile.

  He noted the guardedness. There was no way to hide that Grayson belonged to his brother. Dark hair and green eyes. He even had the crescent birthmark in the same spot as Joshua. He could easily see how Sheridan had concluded he was a Kincaid. The boy possessed nothing of Beth. Elijah prayed he was mistaken. He hung onto that reasoning rather too quickly. He doubted his brother was the only man in Wyoming to have such hair coloring and eyes. “Where is his father?”

  Something akin to fear flashed in the depths of her eyes. “He has no father.” She took a deep breath. “Forgive me for being short.”

  He smiled, hoping to relax her. “Your husband does not claim him?”

  “I...I...” she broke off seemingly at loss how to explain.

  When she seemed to make up her mind, she gave him a faint disarming smile. “Nothing of the sort. I haven’t seen my husband in almost two years. I only meant he has no father in his life.”

  The baby fussed and she surged to her feet. “It is time for his walk, if you will excuse me.”

  He watched the slow blush that covered her face in fascination. “Stay in view of the main house.”

  Her head bobbed as she bustled out of the room, obviously wanting to escape his presence. He let her go, his mind churning with the possibilities.

  The housekeeper approached him and handed him a note. Elijah opened it and looked at it blankly.

  Meet me on the range overlooking the eastern section of the ranch. I have your Winchester.

  He would blister Sheridan’s backside when he saw her. Of all the reckless fool-hardy things for her to do. He considered sending Tom or another ranch hand after her. But the stubborn hellion was not going listen to them, and they wouldn’t put their hands on her when she resisted. Elijah had expressly told her to stay within view of the main house.

  Elijah wasted no time exiting the house. He collected his Spencer and hunting knife and headed to the barn. With questions swirling in his brain he saddled his Palomino stallion with swift efficiency. He launched onto his back and rode to where Sheridan should be. He had not ridden long when he spotted a splash of yellow. She reclined under a large oak tree as if asleep.

  He dismounted and dropped the reins, leaving his horse to roam the range freely.

  One eye peeked open and she gave him a lazy smile and sat up. “I was beginning to think that you would not come.”

  He glanced around the setting. A tablecloth spread on the grass, a carafe of wine, and glasses. Bread, cheese, roasted chicken and an apple pie were also present. But it was the creamy swell of her shoulders, the arch of her neck and the need in her eyes that had his mouth watering. “What is this, Sheridan?”

  “I thought we could have a picnic and talk.”

  He glanced around the prairie assessing how secluded they were from everyone. “I am going to tan your backside.”

  He blinked at the dazzling smile she bestowed upon him. Her smile sent a shaft of hunger straight into him, which hardened his cock almost immediately. She tumbled onto her stomach and arched her buttocks enticingly.

  “Go ahead,” she said, her eyes laughing at him. “It seems you quite enjoy tanning my buttocks, and it would be an appropriate beginning for our renewed courtship.”

  She chuckled, clearly amused by her own antics.

  He released a confounded breath then sat on the blanket. He reached for an apple and crunched into it, studying her. “It is dangerous to be so far from the main house, Sheridan. I gave you specific instructions on how far you could travel.”

  She rolled onto her back, propping herself onto her elbows, watching him with a curious mix of wariness and sexual hunger. “Would you have come for me if I had been within range?” She placed a sweet cake into her mouth. “I assure you I was very careful. I positioned myself so I could see whoever rode onto the ranch. And I have the Winchester.”

  He grunted.

  Before he could berate her for her recklessness she pounced. “I believe I would like you to kiss me…”

  He stared at her, wondering how long she would keep up her foolish idea about courting him. She presented a very provocative picture in her simple cotton day dress. It clung to her frame, shaping her curves in the most exquisite manner. And her hair, a cascade of midnight, rippled down to her hips. “Are you by chance still trying to seduce me, Sheridan?”

  “You needn’t worry none about that,” she drawled in her best western cadence.

  At his narrow eyed look she shrugged daintily. “Courting you. There is a difference you know. I even have a book that says so. If I wanted to seduce you I would have slipped into your bed when you slept.”

  The memory of the first night they came together seeped between them, enticing him.

  He reached for another apple fighting back a smile at her reckless audacity. Almost against his will, his eyes dipped to her legs. She deliberately allowed the day dress to ride up to her knees.

  “I had a weak momen
t in the cabin. It will not happen again.”

  An elegant brow arched high. “It seemed like it was several weak moments to me.” She seemed thoughtful as she tapped her chin. “Three weak moments if I recall correctly…Seems a mite ridiculous to deny yourself the pleasure of a simple kiss now.”

  He smiled, wondering how the hell he would deal with her persistence. “Sheridan….”

  “Don’t.”

  The seriousness of her tone had him paying deeper attention to her. She sat up and folded her legs beneath her buttocks, hands folded in her lap. She looked off into the distance for a few seconds before facing him. He swallowed at the look of pure need and determination on her face.

  “You do not trust me, Elijah.”

  His gut tightened but he did not refute her claims. A strong wind rolled off the mountain, lifting her hair and curling it around her hips. She looked so damn beautiful it haunted him. Even though she spent time outdoors, her skin still had that delicate porcelain look.

  She looked him straight in the eye. “There is a past between us that needs to be addressed and you will listen. You have not given me a chance to apologize. If you have no wish to accept it, I cannot force you, but I do wish you to know how very sorry I am for what I did. There is no excuse for lying to you…but I hungered for my own family. I dreamt of running the ranch, having a garden, children to tell stories to by winter fires. It may be simplistic to you…but it was what I wanted and I knew I had no hope of receiving such a life from Thomas.”

  Elijah had never seen her looking so fierce. He realized she would forever talk about it, unless he made some overture to close a chapter of their life that had been left open too long. Hell. Probably this was what he needed to do for her to move on. “Sheridan—”

  She slashed her hands cutting him off. “No Elijah. Let me speak.”

  He nodded and she gave him a small smile that had his gut clenching in need.

  “I want you to trust me. I want to marry you. I have made no secret of that. I am not ashamed to admit that it is you I want.”

  Her intensity petrified him. A woman like her needed loving. He didn’t have that. He understood a lot more about her than she thought…and it was that understanding that made him aware she was too weak for this life. Her words of love had always clenched something inside of him. He remembered with absolute clarity the first time she had whispered it to him. They had been lying under the large oak tree behind the bunkhouse watching the sinking sun. He’d felt peace for the first time in months, and then her softly whispered words of love had tied him in knots. He’d been unable to return her sentiments. Not knowing if what he felt for her was love. She made him burn, and he was damned if he knew if it was a good thing or not.

  That day he had thought about Emma for the first time without rage and grief battling inside of him. He had loved Emma. He had trusted Emma. After all, he had known she would have been his from the time he was fourteen and she a mere twelve. He had waited for her, and she had become his on her sixteenth birthday. What he had with Emma had been soft and gentle, always present and comforting. Elijah had thought he’d known everything about Emma, but she had devastated him in a way he had yet to recover from.

  What Sheridan didn’t realize was his mistrust of her ran deeper than her lying to him about being unattached. But he could never explain that to her. While Emma had been raised in Boston, she had at least understood the West. Sheridan was wholly naïve about their way of life. He couldn’t trust her to be strong, to be undoubting in the face of danger. She had a core of steel born from stubbornness, but it was not enough for their savage world, and it would never be enough for him.

  “I have been hoping for so much. A life here…With you and since our night in the cabin, perhaps….one day having a child with you…”

  The breath rushed from his lungs. The force of her words rooting him to the spot. “What did you say?”

  She squared her shoulders. “I had hoped I would have gotten with child…and then maybe we could wed. But I have decided I will not come to your bed again.”

  Her face blushed with furious color and he could only stare at her amazed. His heart clamored. He did not forget how careless he had been, how he had lost his head the minute she had tempted him in the cabin. “Are you with child?”

  She swallowed. “It is too soon to tell.”

  He raked his fingers through his hair and gave her an incredulous stare. “So are you telling me, Sheridan, the reason you climbed in my bed at the cabin was in hope you would get pregnant, so I would marry you?”

  She frowned. “I was hoping to seduce you into offering marriage, but I have since realized a child could have been created.”

  He could not help himself, he started to laugh. “And you are telling me this now, because you want me to trust you?”

  “Yes…I only want honesty between us.”

  She stared back with an earnestness that baffled him.

  “Since we are going for honesty, Sheridan, I do not want a child. I take full responsibility for my recklessness in the cabin. But if you were to become with child…you would be going east or back to London to rear him or her in a safer environment. Never would I allow you to remain in the West. That would be the surest way to lose this land you are determined to hold onto.”

  She shifted, unfolding her legs and leaned back against the trunk of the tree. He had expected her to spit fire at him at his statement; instead she looked at him with curiosity and understanding.

  “And would you come with me?”

  His eyes dipped to her stomach and a jolt of pure fear tore through him. He buried it deeply and strove to present a calm façade. It would not do for her to know how much their conversation was rattling him. He wanted to run from it. Would he have gone with her? Hell. He would marry her if she was pregnant and he prayed to God he didn’t have to. Not because he was stupid.

  He heard the distant cry in his head. The scream of his son, and it was the hardest thing for him to sit there and present an unaffected mien. “I would come with you.”

  The smile she gave him almost blinded him. He would never understand her.

  “I hope I am not with child either.” She shifted closer to him and the sweet scent of lilac mixed with jasmine drifted to his nostrils. “For I know you love the land…as much as I do…And this is where we belong.”

  A deep part of Elijah agreed. He could never imagine leaving the land. It was in his blood.

  “Why?”

  He had been expecting it, surprised at her easy acceptance of his resolve to never have a child. Her face only showed patience and he wondered what she knew. “Why what, Sheridan?”

  She hesitated then looked away from him guilty. She was aware of some of his history if not all. Miguel. He could have been the only person to speak with her. Elijah waited, curious to see if she would lie to him, if she would pretend ignorance. He waited on her response, the wails of his son rising in his mind.

  Relief pulsed through him when she smiled slightly. “Another day, Elijah. I will ask another day.”

  Perhaps he was a coward for not pressing, but he was comfortable with another day. Perhaps too comfortable. His hand curled into the grass at the edge of the blanket and pulled up a tuft of grass. The scent of earth and moist air wrapped around his senses. He found he liked the interlude. Too damned much. He should insist they return to the main house, but he wanted to lose himself in the simple pleasure of having a picnic overlooking the beauty of their land.

  ***

  Thunder rumbled in the distance and Sheridan prayed it would not rain. The tentative truce between her and Elijah filled her with pleasure. Instead of being snarling and angry, he seemed more contemplative, and at peace. He had yet to mention her leaving Whispering Creek and she was grateful for it, and he was listening to her apology. He took the plate she handed him. “Thank you.”

 
She nodded and they ate in silence for a few minutes.

  “Jericho has someone watching the range.”

  Sheridan snapped her head around scanning the prairie. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes…I saw a flicker of light last night and I rode out this morning to look at the tracks. At least two men camped a few miles from the main creek. Only Jericho would send them.”

  She took a deep gulp of the wine. “How do we deal with it? Please do not say I should leave, me running is not the solution.”

  “Fighting isn’t either.” He raised the flask of water and took several swallows.

  She followed the strong column of his jaw and watched as his throat worked. She wanted to kiss him. She almost acted on the impulse to lean in and press her lips to his. She wanted to grip his hair and just run her hand through its thick sable.

  “Do you miss London? Your life?”

  His sudden question had her eyes jerking from his lips to his face. The amusement dancing in his eyes indicated he saw how she had been looking at him. She flushed and busied herself by pouring water into a cup. “No. How can I miss loneliness?”

  “What about your family?”

  She shrugged, feigning disinterest in the topic. This is not what she had lured him here for. “I am not overly interested in them.”

  “Liar.”

  The gentleness in his tone made her lift her head and met his stare.

  “Tell me,” he encouraged softly.

  She swallowed, hating the lump in her throat. “There are times I miss my father so much I cry,” she confessed. “I write every so often but I have received no reply.”

  “What about the letters from Lady Ashton?”

  Her heart lurched. “How did you know about her?”

  “They were in the top drawer of the chest in the Library. I found them when I was searching for receipts to match with purchases in the sale ledger.”