She had come to her feet and held the rifle as though she knew exactly what she was doing. Steady and calm, she aimed at Curtis Merriweather. When she dropped the lever and brought it back up swiftly, the sound echoed like thunder in the silent morning. Well, that did it. He no longer doubted that Eden was Jed’s sister.
“I’m very disappointed in you, Mr. Merriweather.” She sighed. “What on earth must your mother think, that all three of her sons have fallen into a life of crime, bless her heart?” She sounded, to Sullivan’s ears, as if she were truly distressed.
“She won’t shoot,” Curtis said, taking a step toward Eden.
Without warning, she did. The dust at Curtis’s feet danced and swirled as he came to an abrupt stop. The crack of the rifle split the quiet air. She cocked the lever again.
The man on the ground stirred, sitting up slowly. Maybe Eden did know what she was doing with that rifle, but they were still outnumbered. Three-to-two odds weren’t bad, but damn it, he didn’t know exactly what to expect from Eden Rourke next. Curtis shook his head in what appeared to be reluctant appreciation. “Good-lookin’ and handy with a rifle to boot. What’s a woman like you doing married to a goddamn half-breed?”
Eden’s lips pursed and she squinted slightly, as if taking aim. “Watch your language, Mr. Merriweather.”
He ignored her. “Ain’t it enough that the Injun dresses like a white man and tries to pass himself off as a Sullivan without going and marrying one of the rare pretty white women we got in these parts?” His grip on the six-shooter changed, tightened; his entire body tensed as he got ready to fire. The six-shooter snapped around quickly.
Eden didn’t respond but to shoot again, and Curtis Merriweather’s revolver flew out of his hand. He squealed and grasped his fingers; he tried to take a breath and squealed again.
Two reluctant heads appeared from the back of the wagon, rising slowly to peek over the side. “Good morning,” Eden said, her voice shaking slightly. “Teddy, would you be so kind as to collect the Merriweathers’ horses and hitch them to the back of the wagon?”
The boy moved without question to do as he was asked.
“We’ll take your horses to the next town and leave them there,” Eden said, “along with a message for the local law officials.” She had begun to shake, just a little. The reaction was so subtle, Sullivan wondered if any of the three bandits noticed. If they did, if they sensed a weakness in her now...
George Merriweather looked at his brother Will, who still sat on the ground, and at his other brother Curtis who grasped his fingers and cried in pain. Sullivan saw the desperation, the panic, in George’s eyes. Men did stupid things when they were cornered, and this one was about to do something incredibly stupid. He knew it in his gut.
The one remaining armed Merriweather popped his weapon up, taking aim at Eden. Without a single second thought or a moment’s hesitation, Sullivan fired. One shot to the heart. George fell to the ground without getting a chance to fire a single shot.
Eden’s eyes widened and her shaking got worse. Sullivan cursed beneath his breath. Had she thought it would be so easy? That she could threaten these men and chastise them and then ride away without seeing anyone die? Hellfire, she did not belong here.
Something in her changed dramatically. Something in her weakened. Her confidence dissolved. She’d been so self-assured facing the Merriweather brothers, insisting that they back down. Right now she looked like she might faint at any moment—just like a woman.
Sullivan dismissed his fleeting concern for a woman who shouldn’t even be there. Using a length of their own rope, he bound the remaining two brothers, if they were indeed related at all, together and to a tree. He hitched up Eden’s horses to the wagon, and checked to see that Teddy had done a good job of securing the bandits’ mounts with his own stallion. He had.
He loaded them all, Eden and Teddy and Millie, into the wagon and left the two bandits pleading for mercy. Damn it, he didn’t like the look that crept over Eden’s face, as if she was finally truly scared, as if the encounter had drained the life out of her.
“What will happen to them?” she asked without looking back.
“We’ll stop in the next town and send the sheriff back for them, like you said.”
She nodded as if she agreed that was an acceptable plan. They were a good ways down the road before she spoke again.
“I’ve never seen a man killed before.” Her voice was low, soft as the wind. “I’d never even seen a man shot, until I shot Curtis Merriweather’s hand.” She looked at him then. He didn’t look back, but watched her from the corner of his eye. “Jedidiah put a rifle in my hands as soon as I was old enough to hold one. He’d take me out and we’d shoot at targets. Bottles and cans, mostly. Mother would never let me go hunting with him; she said it wasn’t a ladylike pastime. But Jedidiah convinced her that I should know how to defend myself, so even after he was gone I practiced several times a week. I promised him, before he left for the war...”
She shuddered. “What happened this morning was nothing at all like shooting at a target that doesn’t shoot back, that doesn’t... bleed. It all happened so fast, before I even had a chance to think, and now a man is dead and another one is injured. It was so... so horribly violent. And so quick,” she added in a lowered voice as she shuddered again. “It happened so fast. I hope I never see anything like that again as long as I live.”
Sullivan kept his eyes on the road ahead and his mouth shut. He didn’t think now was the time to tell Eden that he’d seen so many men die violently he could no longer remember the number.
Chapter 3
Ranburne was an even smaller town than Webberville, but it did have a decent general store and a sober sheriff. As it was the closest town to Rock Creek, Sullivan had met Sheriff Tilton before and trusted him. He told Tilton where he could find what was left of the Merriweathers, handed over their horses, and learned some disturbing information about the brothers.
Tilton knew better than to ask a single question about Sullivan’s battered face.
While Sullivan was with the sheriff, Eden went to the general store to buy a few more supplies. Walking in that direction to join her, he considered sending her on her way and heading back to Webberville to reclaim his Colt and the hat he’d left hanging on the hat tree near the swinging saloon doors. A knot of anger twisted in his gut. He liked that hat. It fit just right and was well broken in. Besides, he felt he owed a few residents of Webberville a rematch. If they hadn’t caught him off guard, if they hadn’t sucker punched him...
But he couldn’t go back, not now. As soon as the name “Rourke” had left Eden’s mouth, he’d known he was stuck with her and those kids until they reached their destination. Jed was one of the few men in the world he called his friend, and he couldn’t abandon the man’s sister to travel alone. She was a fool woman for attempting it in the first place, but he couldn’t change the fact that she was here. All he could do was make sure that Eden and the kids reached Rock Creek safely. After that, they were Jed’s problem, and he could see about getting to Webberville to reclaim his hat.
Teddy stood, solemn and silent, on the boardwalk outside the general store. The kid lifted his eyes and peeked through strands of straight, dark hair that hung too long about his face. He waited, nervous and so anxious he seemed not to breathe at all. Sullivan forgot all about his hat.
The boy was afraid of something, of everything. The fear was in his eyes, in the way he flinched when anyone besides Eden got too near him. Eden, in her own little world, didn’t always notice. Sullivan not only noticed, he remembered what it was like to live that way, always afraid, constantly waiting for the next backhand. Or worse.
“Are the ladies inside?” he asked as he neared the boy. Teddy nodded, and Sullivan reached out to lay a hand on the boy’s head. The kid didn’t move away, but he tensed so hard his neck corded and his hands balled into little fists. Sullivan’s hand didn’t linger on Teddy’s small head. Trust didn’t com
e easy or fast, he knew.
Eden placed her purchases on the front counter as Sullivan entered the general store, and she turned her head to smile familiarly. Millie had been exploring, and when she saw him standing in the doorway, she shouted “Papa!” and ran to him with a smile on her pretty face.
He didn’t live in this town, but there were a few people here who knew him by reputation and by sight. They knew what had happened in Rock Creek last year; they recognized and respected or feared him. More than a few eyes widened as Millie reached up her arms to him.
He stared down at her, not knowing what to do or say. “You and Teddy get settled in the wagon.” Her little arms fell, but her smile never faded. “We’re almost finished here.”
Eden paid for her purchases, and Sullivan went to the counter to carry them for her. He could feel people watching him, and he knew what they were thinking—Sinclair Sullivan, domesticated? Tamed? Cowed? Married. He thought about correcting all the unspoken thoughts with a few gruff words, but was sure anything he said would come out sounding defensive. Why should he tell these nosy people anything? Let them assume whatever they wanted. Besides, no one would give Eden any trouble if they thought she was his.
The shopkeeper gave Sullivan a sly “you-old-dog” grin as he handed over Eden’s purchases. “Well, Mr. Sullivan, you’re certainly full of surprises.” He turned his much too curious eyes to Eden. “Will you be settling in Rock Creek, ma’am?”
“Yes, I will,” she said brightly, a subdued, alluring smile on her face. “And I’m very much looking forward to it.”
“It’s a rough place,” the man said, “but with Sullivan there to look out for you, you won’t have any problems a’tall.”
Eden looked up and gave Sullivan a smile that was sure to confirm the suspicions that they were married. That smile was full of sunshine and promise and wonder. It was strangely intimate, a smile that spoke volumes to those who cared to listen. Hell, it made his insides do an unexpected dance.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she said. “He’s been quite capable up to this point.”
The shopkeeper’s wide grin faded a little. Capable wasn’t exactly a romantic or thrilling description.
“Let’s go,” Sullivan said as he turned away. “We’ve got a long way to travel today.”
“Of course, Sinclair,” Eden said sweetly. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we’ll get to Rock Creek.”
He tossed Eden’s purchases into the back of the wagon with the kids. They had a three-day trip ahead of them, at the pace they’d been traveling. Three days. On horseback he could be in Rock Creek in a matter of hours, but the way this wagon lurched an inch at a time down the road made the trip interminably long. As he made sure the purchases were secured where they wouldn’t fall over in the wagon, Millie reached out both hands and patted him on the cheeks. Softly, since he still sported a number of cuts and bruises on his face.
“Papa, Papa, Papa,” she said with wonder in her voice. He was about to correct her when she continued. “I never had a papa before, not even a pretend one. I like this game.”
It was going to be a damn long three days.
Perhaps the excitement of the early morning hours had dampened her spirits somewhat, because Eden was quiet for the remainder of the day. She spoke to the kids, and to him when it was necessary, but there were no more attempts at casual conversation; they were well past that point.
He liked the quiet, and he liked sitting beside Eden on the wagon’s hard seat. He liked looking at her, when she didn’t know he was watching, studying the curve of her cheek and the curve of her breasts and the curve of her hip. If not for the kids, if not for the fact that she was Jed’s sister, he might be tempted to reach out and touch one or all of those tempting curves.
That would never happen, of course. He remained with her because he felt an obligation to her and to her brother. She’d likely saved his life in Webberville, and besides... If he left Eden to her own devices, if he allowed her to continue to travel alone, Jed would be pissed.
After they stopped for the night, she fed the kids beans and jerky and ate a few bites herself. She picked at her food, as if she had no appetite. He’d think she was simply tired of beans and jerky if he didn’t already know her so well. The killing still bothered her, more than a little.
When the kids had crawled into the back of the wagon and Eden was preparing to join them, Sullivan broke the silence. “He would’ve killed you,” he said softly, so the kids wouldn’t hear.
“Maybe,” she whispered, uncertainty clear in her voice. “We’ll never know for sure.”
“No maybes about it, Miss Rourke,” he said sternly. “Those men intended to kill you and me and even the kids.”
Her head snapped up, and he could see the fire in her eyes. “They wouldn’t have,” she whispered.
He nodded once. “I’m afraid so. The sheriff in Ranburne told me a little bit about those three when I told him where to find them. They really are brothers, and we weren’t the first travelers they joined up with and ambushed. They’ve done it several times before, and every time but one they killed everybody. The only time they didn’t kill everyone it was a mistake. One of the kids hid under their wagon and watched as they killed his entire family. In the past three years the Merriweather brothers have murdered women and children, young men and old.” It was a harsh reality, but one she had to face up to. He would not pretty the facts up for her, try to make things nice and easy.
Her stubborn chin lifted, and by the firelight he could see the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes. She was a little thing, but damn it there was strength in her heart. She didn’t back away from anything. “A man who would kill a child deserves to die.”
“Yes, he does.”
Eden paced on the other side of the fire, thoughtful and restless. Perhaps she was wisely deciding she’d made a terrible mistake coming to Texas.
“If you’d like, I’ll take you back to San Antonio and put the three of you on the next train heading East.”
She stopped pacing and set her eyes on him. “I have no intention of going back to Georgia.”
“Jed isn’t waiting in Rock Creek, and he won’t be happy to find you there when he does show up.”
She gave him her haughtiest look, but it didn’t quite work. Maybe it was the delicate cut of her cheek or the almost childish quality of her cute little nose. Maybe it was the gentleness in her eyes. Whatever the reason, haughty didn’t work on her. “He will be happy to see me,” she insisted.
He didn’t argue that if Jed was all that anxious to see her, he would’ve made the trip to Georgia long ago. That didn’t mean he was ready to give up the argument entirely. “You don’t belong here.”
“Maybe not yet,” she said. “But I will. Eventually.”
“What about the kids?” If nothing else, she had a soft spot for those children. She’d do whatever was best for them. He didn’t mind using that soft spot against her. “What are you going to do with two orphans in Rock Creek? It’s a small, hard place. People aren’t exactly lining up to take in other people’s kids.”
“They’ll live with me, of course,” she said, as if she’d never considered any other option. “I’ll enroll them in school. There is a school in Rock Creek, isn’t there? If not, I’ll teach them myself,” she continued without waiting for an answer.
“They’re not yours,” he insisted, wondering why anyone would willingly take on two unwanted kids.
“They are now.”
He looked into the fire. Hell, there was no arguing with this woman. She was completely irrational, had a misguided answer for every logic he presented to her, and like all women, she intended to have her way.
While he stared into the fire, Eden rounded it slowly. He didn’t move, but he sure as hell sensed every step she took as she came near and then sat on the ground beside him.
“I never thanked you,” she said softly. “Those men might’ve... might’ve...” She didn’t want to ta
lk about what might’ve happened anymore than he did.
“No need to thank me,” he said gruffly.
Eden Rourke had no reservations at all when it came to touching. He saw her do it with the kids all the time, a hug, a slender hand on a shoulder, fingers on a smudge of dirt. It was as if she touched without even thinking about what she was doing.
She did it to him now, reaching out to tuck the strands of hair that hid his face from her behind his ear. “Your face looks so much better already,” she said, her finger tracing a small cut. “The swelling is down, and thank goodness nothing seems to be infected.”
Sullivan held his breath, and a strange lump formed in his chest. He fought the urge to grab her wrist and push her away, just as diligently as he fought the urge to reach out, grab her, and pull her body against his. He told himself he wanted to hold Eden because he’d never known anyone like her, because she possessed a goodness he’d never known. He reasoned with himself as he held his breath. She was simply too naive to know that she shouldn’t be touching him, not even innocently. Eventually her hand fell away.
After her hand was gone he felt her, still. He smelled her; he heard her breathing. Something inside him whispered that he could kiss her and she wouldn’t protest. Not much anyway, and not for long. Eden Rourke wasn’t the kind of woman to give herself freely to a man; she was definitely not an easy woman. He’d bet his life she was a virgin. Still, that something whispered that if he said and did everything right he could lie with her tonight.
But he wouldn’t. This tempting, soft woman who kept touching him was Jed’s sister, and Sinclair Sullivan wasn’t ready to die for a woman.
“Good night,” she said, walking away slowly, with an unconscious sway in her hips and a discreet backward glance.
No, he wasn’t willing to die for a woman—not yet, anyway.
* * *
They stopped frequently during the day, to rest the horses and to stretch their own legs. Eden was always grateful for the chance to get down from the wagon’s hard seat and walk around, even if the respite was brief.
Sullivan (The Rock Creek Six Book 2) Page 4
