by Stacy Reid
“Relax. From the moment she talked about putting her mouth—”
The knife flew from Elijah’s grip and buried in the earth between Joshua’s legs.
Joshua held up his palms, low laughter pulsing from him. “I turned away. Even moved up the trail, but I could still hear her. She said she loved you.”
The memories of Sheridan’s passionate cries of love and sultry heat had Elijah gritting his teeth, fighting back the brutal need to go for her in the cabin. He had taken her over and over trying to exorcise the need for her.
“Only words,” he said flatly, not wanting to traverse along those lines of conversation. Had Emma not said the same thing, had she not promised to love and protect their son at all cost?
“For such a smart man, you’re mighty blind.”
“Leave it alone Joshua,” Elijah growled.
They were silent for a few minutes.
“You marryin’ her?”
He should have known Joshua wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. “No.”
“Why the hell not?”
“She is not made for this life. I am not a man that makes the same mistake twice. A woman like Sheridan would be a mistake.”
“Seems to me she is adjusting mighty fine.”
Elijah remained mute but wished he had spoken if it would have prevented his brother’s next words.
“Not every woman is like Emma, Elijah.”
“She is.”
“I doubt it. If that had been Emma today, when you brought her up to the cabin she would have still been in hysterics,” Joshua drawled. “While I loved Emma as much as you did, she did not have a spine in her backbone. She was like spun glass.”
All his life Elijah had trusted his instinct when dealing with other people, but it was damn silent now when he thought of Sheridan. “If and when I do take a wife again she will be strong, resilient, and able to defend our home and children, able to live and flourish in these wild lands. That is not Sheridan. I let those vermin live today but she still emptied her stomach. I restrained myself only because she was there. A woman like Sheridan is too weak for this land.”
“And you are certain of this?”
Elijah closed his eyes and forced himself to look past his nightmare. Emma’s bloodied body, his son’s gaping throat; Emma’s lifeless eyes condemning him for not reaching her sooner. But Sheridan had been fighting when he came upon them. She had been wild and defiant, not cowering in fear despite knowing the faith that awaited her. Damn. He had to admit she was soft as hell, but mayhap not like Emma.
I am not weak Elijah. I can be that woman. No, nothing like Emma. “She wants me to teach her to defend herself. To fight. Rifle, a six shooter and a knife.”
He felt Joshua start of surprise. “She barely clears five feet. She will not be able to take any man.”
“No,” Elijah mused, “but she is swift and strong. She can learn to throw a knife. She can shoot from a distance. If I teach her, there could be hope for her when she is accosted.”
It was not an if. A woman like Sheridan would always be accosted if she chose to stay in the West. He’d seen the naked hunger in her eyes when she spoke of home, and he would be a son of a bitch if he tried to keep that from her. If he kept pressing for her to leave. He couldn’t leave this land, and he finally understood her love and respect for it was the same. Even though she had not been born in the West like him. He’d not thought much on it, always having a place to call home. She should have that.
“So you’re thinking to teach her then?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I will pitch in when needed.”
The cry of an eagle rode the night air and they identified their younger brother’s call. They shifted in unison and waited for Noah to appear. He came upon them silent and sure. Elijah arched his brow when he took in Noah’s appearance. His hair was plaited in two and had feathers interwoven in them. He wore pants tucked into moccasins with a large hunting knife sheathed at his hips. As usual he wore no guns, they were more Joshua’s style. Dancing green eyes met Elijah’s gaze, and he drew his younger brother into a fierce hug. It had been too long since he last saw him. Almost a year. As a Marshal Noah took on some of the most dangerous jobs, where he left the Triple K for months at a time. As Elijah understood it from Joshua, a few months ago he had gone undercover, riding with a bunch of criminal gang comancheros.
“What did I miss?” Noah drawled.
Elijah released him and Joshua drew Noah into another bear hug.
“Let’s go inside the cabin. If Sheridan is awake I will introduce you.”
Noah mocked stumbled “The Sheridan? Ma will be thrilled to hear this.”
Elijah ignored both his brothers’ low chuckles and walked toward the cabin. The tenseness from his shoulders eased and the rage in his gut settled somewhat. And he knew it had a lot to do with the fact that he was heading back inside to Sheridan’s arms more than his brothers’ presence.
And it was the most difficult thing he had ever admitted.
Chapter Fifteen
Sheridan and Elijah stood on the north side of the cabin. She glanced at his brothers as they gutted a deer and prepared it for the spit. She had met them in the night, and something had eased inside of her. Worry had dimmed to be replaced with hope. Not that she doubted Elijah. Even now she could see the rage that burned beneath his calm façade. She did not want him hunting Sullivan and his goons alone.
She’d come to realized his brothers were hard men, just as capable as Elijah. Last night in the cabin she had listened to them laugh and rabble-rouse each other and a yearning so intense it bordered on pain had filled her. That was what she wanted—a family. They had drunk coffee and eaten biscuits she had cooked with rashers of bacon, and stayed up late into the night talking. She had slipped away after the meal, leaving them alone with their tales. Hoping to pass the time reading, she had searched the small cabinet in the room and had been stunned when she found the dog-eared copy of Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice. She had given it to Elijah after reading the entire book to him a day at a time over the course of a week. To know he had kept it, and had obviously re read it, brought a rush of emotions to burst inside her heart. She had kept riffling through the content of the cabin until she found a few magazines with short, gory, and exciting gunslingers’ stories. She had read until Elijah had come up.
She had blushed something furiously when he had taken her into his arms in the wee hours of the morning. She’d been convinced his brothers would be able to hear them from the rooms next door. He had laughed at her and had simply drawn her into his arms until she fell asleep. Now as she looked at his handsome profile, she wished she had made love with him.
She had dressed in a supple brown leather skirt and vest that he told her belonged to his mother. They were plastered onto her figure, but the length was perfect. It had amused her to know his mother’s stature was as tiny as hers, and yet she had birthed such large strapping men as Elijah and his brothers. She had glared at him when he pointed out his mother birthed tiny babies and not grown men.
They trotted in silence and she tried not to feel too hopeful about how relaxed he seemed. “Will you teach me how to quick draw? I heard that Billy the kid and Jessup were lightening quick.”
Elijah’s lips curved in a smile. “Shooting a man is not only about how quick you are.”
She gave him a skeptical look. “That is not what Frank Tousey says in his dime novels. He argues the quickness of a draw is what determines a man’s faith.”
Pleasure uncurled inside of her as he tugged her close, sliding her body slowly and sensually against his. His head dipped and he pressed a soft kiss on her lips.
“What was that for?”
He shrugged. “You talk too much.”
She narrowed her eyes and swatted him.
“Fighting is a craft, and it must b
e learned and practiced. If you have to be violent, do it quick, do it hard, make it work the first time.” He spoke coolly, distinctly. “Understand this Sheridan, mercy is taught...it is a learned behavior, and you are merciful. You will have none when it comes to those that wish to harm you.”
She assessed his intensity. Mercy was taught? She didn’t shy away from the knowledge she was soft and saw things differently. But that was what she wanted. To be as hard as him…or close enough where she could protect those she loved. Where she could protect him, for she did not want him to stand alone against Sullivan and she did not want to hide behind his protection forever. “I understand.”
He stepped in closer to her. “What do you understand?”
She inclined her head and met the cool distance of his eyes. “That as humans, we are not naturally kind and compassionate. In fact we are savage and merciless…and those that are merciful…chose to be.” She swallowed. “And I must be cold toward those who wish me harm.”
He nodded and stepped back.
“I do not think it so, Elijah. For there was never a time I was merciless. In fact I think we were born kind and compassionate, and then we grew hard because of our circumstances.”
He gave her an incredulous stare. “We are born untamed…and then we draw on the trappings of civilization and present what we wish to the world.”
She walked over to him and held out her hand for the wooden knife he had whittled for her. “And the hardness you present now…that is natural? And your kindness is what you fight to maintain?”
He looked down on her, his face closed. She waited patiently for his response, her heart clamoring.
His lips quirked. “Let us begin.”
She huffed at his lack of response and walked with him a few feet away from the horses. The hour passed for Sheridan in a painful blur. She knew Elijah was being gentle but it did not feel like it. He attacked her by simply banding his arms tightly around her, forcing her to find a way to get out of his hold, all the time whispering directions in her ear. After twenty minutes of dropping her weight, slamming her head back, stomping on his shin she had not loosened his hold at all.
She had only gotten loose when she wriggled her buttocks deliberately against him. He had swollen hard and sure and he had released her with a narrowed eye look of anger. He’d then tackled her to the floor resting his weight on top of her. After struggling for a few minutes, she had kissed him for freedom. He had launched to his feet with a snarl and the laughter of his brothers had cause heat to spread all over her body.
She was lousy when it came to freeing herself from the hold of a man. Elijah had then decided her strategy was to never get taken. He’d given her a bowie knife, its blade sharp and wicked. It had slipped into her hands like it had been made for her.
He praised her that she was a natural and she agreed. Her throws improved and she was even quicker than him if the wicked slice that opened his flannel shirt had anything to do with it.
She panted, knife held low away from her body in the manner he’d showed her. He hooked a finger through the slash in his shirt and grinned at her.
“Good Sheridan, but this cut is too shallow. You should put the strength of your entire body into your slice and thrust so that you maim. This is too shallow.”
She walked over to him studying the ripple of muscles showing through the sliced flannel. “I do hope you are teasing, Elijah. If I had used my strength you would be bleeding now.”
Elijah chucked her under her chin. “That is your aim. I will protect myself. Do not hold back. Again!” He ordered and then mock attacked her.
She danced with him for a few minutes before a sharp pain in her thighs pulled her up. She stumbled and cried out kneading knotted muscles.
“Easy,” he murmured, stooping and pressed his fingers deep into her muscles unknotting them. The minutes passed in silence, and he used the soft sign of pleasure she expelled to guide him as to where to rub.
He rose from his crouch and lifted her and carried her to a large boulder. She leaned against the warm rock, too sore and too tired to care anymore how weak she looked to him.
“You are improving. We will do this three times per week and you will be proficient in no time. After I feel you have learned enough we will move onto you handling yourself better with a rifle.”
She nodded, too tired to speak. She lifted her head as Noah called out, “Grub is ready.”
She glanced at him and rolled her eyes at the wink he gave her. Whereas Joshua was serious and more than a little scary, Noah was all playful and flirtatious. He flirted with her every chance he got, ignoring Elijah’s scowl.
Sheridan laughed and slithered off the rock. A sense of pride and accomplishment filled her as she walked toward the cabin. Acting on impulse, she gripped Elijah’s hand and laced their fingers together. Her smile widened when he did not tug his hand away from hers. Instead, he drew her even closer to his side.
***
She fitted in with his family. Well his brothers at least. Sheridan’s laughter spilled from her as Noah regaled her with another of his wild and highly unlikely stories. She licked her fingers, and the sensual glide of her tongue did not rouse Elijah. Instead, he only felt a sense of peace, of comfort watching her so clearly enjoying their teasing.
He could not imagine what it had been like for her to grow up so isolated. His mother and father had always been there. His brothers had always been there. Even when stricken mad with grief over Emma and Nathan they had each been there in their own way, strengthening him, anchoring him. Elijah never wanted Sheridan to endure such loneliness again. So, he would remove all threats to her so that she could stay at the Whispering Creek in peace.
Her head canted to the side as she listened to Noah with earnestness. Elijah clenched his teeth to prevent himself from smiling each time she chortled. He loved seeing the shadows that had been haunting her eyes since the attack disappear. Most of the change had come today as he taught her how to defend herself. She was a quick student. She was fast and lithe, graceful and elegant. In only a few hours, she could throw a knife so that it found its target better than men who had practiced for days. She was a natural and she would only get better.
He was eternally grateful that she was such a quick study. It made the decision to leave her at the ranch more palatable. After he dealt with the threat of Sullivan and ensured the ranch had enough men, Elijah would leave. There was a reason he preferred solitude. He liked to be alone with his terrors, away from prying questions and pity.
He hated to interrupt the merriment. “Sheridan.”
Laughing eyes turned to him. “Yes.”
“I will be riding into town tomorrow.”
Her breath hitched and she glanced at his bothers, and then swung her gaze back to him. “I am coming with you.”
He scowled at Noah’s laugh. “Do not be silly. You will be staying here with Noah. Joshua and I will ride into town. Noah will travel down with you to the Creek when the sun goes down. And you will wait there for us.”
“But, Elijah—”
“There is no but, Sheridan.”
Her lips thinned, but she nodded her acquiescence. “Will you kill him?”
“Bloodthirsty little thing isn’t she?” Joshua drawled.
It was her turn to scowl at Joshua. Between him and Noah, they had been teasing her mercilessly about her size.
Elijah sighed. “No, Sheridan. I keep my promises.”
Relief lightened her eyes and she tried to give him a brave smile, but he saw its wobbliness.
“Good. If you gentlemen will excuse me?”
Without waiting for a reply, she leapt off the stool and fairly ran from the room.
He frowned at the look of admiration on Noah’s face as he watched her run up the stairs.
His brother glanced at him. “That is a fine woman you have their,
Elijah. She did well today,” Noah said.
“She is not my woman.” His response was automatic but for the first time it felt wrong.
“You’re serious about being her protector?” Noah asked.
“I am.”
“Then Joshua is right, marry her. You would be a fool not to.”
“No,” Elijah growled and it sounded weak to his ears, because his heart hungered for something more with her. Fucking hell!
He bit back a smile as Noah started whistling a bawdy tune about a man fighting for his woman. Joshua joined in, and without acknowledging them, Elijah rose from his stool and followed her up the stairs. He entered the room in time to see her throwing a pillow into the wall.
“Why are you angry, Sheridan?”
She spun around with a small growl. “I am not angry.”
He raised his brow at the pillows on the floor.
She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Are you not in the least bit worried about facing Sullivan alone with Joshua?”
Elijah walked over to her, grabbed her hips and lifted. She squeaked and clung to him as he tumbled her to the bed twisting so she landed on his chest.
She gripped his shirt. “I am worried…scared. My staying on the ranch is not worth your blood.”
“It will not be my blood being spilt. It will be Sullivan’s and his men.”
“And will that not make him more furious?”
Elijah thought and everything he knew of the man. “No…he is a bully with power. I will strip him in front of the people whom he wants to revere him.”
She pulled away from him and sat on him. “You think he will just allow this?” she demanded incredulously.
“Do you want to leave, Sheridan?” he asked her quietly.
Shadows chased across her face. “No, but I could not live with myself if—”
He slid his hands up to her thighs and squeezed. “Trust me Sheridan.”
She leaned over him so there lips were scant inches apart. “I do trust you.”
“Good.” He claimed her lips in a deep kiss. They were soft and yielding to his kisses, and he allowed himself to be immersed in her taste, burying the flare of guilt. Her expressive eyes had warmed with love and trust and he felt like a worm, for he would leave and retreat back into the mountains as soon as he made sure she was safe.
