“They’re right,” he said softly. “Cash is not going to be glad to see you.”
“He was injured helping me. The least I can do is bring him some chicken soup. He’ll need nourishment to heal.” She stopped at the top of the stairs. “Which room is his?”
Nate pointed, then stepped around Eden to knock curtly and then push open the door. Cash’s room was smaller than those in the hotel, cramped but clean. It was also rather... decadent. The bedspread that covered him to the waist was bright red and surely made of the finest silk, as were the sheets and the pillows. The single chair was covered in red velvet, a fabric similar to the thick curtains that covered the single window.
On his bedside table there was a deck of cards, two distinctive six-shooters, an almost full bottle of whiskey, and a cut-glass tumbler with just a drop of whiskey sitting in the bottom.
Cash opened his eyes as she stepped into the room. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She refused to be put off by his rude tone of voice or the blackness of his eyes. “I brought you soup.” She lifted the tray slightly.
“I hate soup.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Get out.”
Eden ignored him, stepping into the small room and perching on the edge of the red velvet chair. “I can feed you or you can feed yourself. I won’t have you wasting away.”
Slowly, using the strength in his arms, Cash moved into a sitting position. Crimson silk pillows cushioned his back. A crimson silk coverlet covered his legs. His mouth, surrounded by a precisely trimmed mustache and goatee, pursed and twitched. Finally, he pinned his dark eyes on her.
“Let me assure you that I have no intention of wasting away, Miss Rourke,” he said in a dangerous voice that positively dripped sarcasm. “Or is it Mrs. Sullivan? I’m often confused these days.”
“Call me Eden,” she said, taking the spoon in her hand and dipping it into the soup. “Open wide.”
He looked horrified, his black eyebrows arching, his head rearing slightly back. “You are not going to spoon soup into my mouth as if I were a baby or a feeble old codger.”
“All right,” she said, standing with the tray in her hands. She very gingerly placed the tray on Cash’s lap.
The gambler reached down with both hands and grasped the bowl. She knew, immediately, what he intended to do.
“Surely you wouldn’t be so childish,” she said calmly.
He cut his eyes up and narrowed them. “You’d be surprised.” But he didn’t toss the bowl across the room.
“While you two argue about the soup,” Nate muttered, “I’m going downstairs for a drink.”
Eden spun around. “No, you really shouldn’t.” It broke her heart to see the man lose himself in whiskey, to drink until he was insensible. “You drink too much, Nate. It’s not good for you.” She kept her voice low.
“Not good for me?” he asked, amused by her concern.
“No,” she said softly. “You really shouldn’t...”
“If I need a drink it’s none of your business.”
“Well, yes, that may be true,” she said, unable to let it go. “But you don’t need a drink. You want it, but want is entirely different from need.” Given the way Sin affected her, she really wasn’t one to talk. That didn’t stop her, though. “I’m not one to say that whiskey is evil, but...”
“Lady, when you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you can preach to me,” Nate said with a touch of bitter humor. “Until then, leave me the hell alone.” With that he stalked out of the room, leaving the door open.
So far the day had been a complete disaster. First she’d been confronted by Ethel and her nefarious plans, then Cash and his stubbornness, and now Nate.
“Sullivan was right about you,” Cash said.
Oh, she was in no mood to be on the receiving end of Cash’s sarcasm, not now. “Right about me how?” she snapped, trying, and failing, to stop her eyes from filling with tears.
Cash smiled wickedly. “He said you were out to save the world, one person at a time. If that’s the case, Rock Creek is as good a place as any to be. Lots of people here need saving.”
Dejected, she sat again in the red velvet chair. “But I’m not doing a very good job of it. Grady died, Ethel tried to kill me, Sin only wants to send me back to Georgia, Nate put me in my place, and you”—she pinned her eyes on him—“you nearly get yourself killed on my account, and now I can’t even get you to eat a bowl of soup.” Her lower lip quivered.
“Save the histrionics,” Cash drawled. “I’m too damn old to fall for that practiced con. The tremulous lip, the watery eyes. You’re quite the actress, Miss... Eden.”
“You hate me,” she whispered, certain of the fact.
“Perhaps.”
“Would you like to tell me why?” She didn’t really care if this man liked her or not, but he was in Sin’s closest circle and that meant something to her.
“I don’t like to see my friends jerked around by their nuts.”
Shocked, Eden tilted back and widened her eyes. “Well, you don’t mince words, do you, Mr. Cash?”
“In the past I’ve found it a waste of time to do so,” he snapped.
Amazingly, she found a tender spot in her heart for Cash at that moment. Tough as he was, he obviously cared about his friends. That meant he cared about Sin. They had something in common after all.
“Let me put your mind at ease,” she said softly. “I love Sin, very much. I would never jerk him around by... by anything.” She could feel herself blushing, the heat rising to her cheeks. “If I’ve made mistakes since coming here, it’s because I’ve never been in love before.” She smiled. “I’m learning as I go.”
Cynicism filled his black eyes. “Maybe you really think you love him....”
Eden stood and glared down at Cash. “Don’t tell me I don’t know my own heart. Don’t you dare. I am getting heartily tired of the men of Rock Creek trying to tell me I don’t know what I want. Do you want to know a secret?” She leaned slightly forward and unabashedly met Cash’s stony gaze. “Sin and Jedidiah think I’m going back to Georgia once the Merriweather brothers are caught, but they’re wrong. I’m not leaving. Unless, of course, Sin leaves. I’ll follow him if I have to. I’ll become the kind of woman I need to be in order to be his wife.”
“You would trail after a man who doesn’t love you?” Cash asked, his voice cold.
Eden was tempted to tell him that Sin did love her, but that wasn’t really the question he’d asked, was it?
“Yes.”
She turned on her heel so she didn’t have to look any more into those dark, emotionless eyes. “I’m going to leave before Nate has too much to drink. Eat the soup or don’t, Mr. Cash. And thank you, again.”
After slamming the door behind her, she waited a moment, expecting the crash of a bowl against the door. But all was silent.
* * *
Sullivan sat back on the green lobby sofa while Jed paced and raged.
“Ethel is in the Rock Creek jail?”
“Until we transport her to Ranburne, si,” Rico said calmly. “We hired Sam Sanders to keep an eye on her and feed her, for now. Until we get a sheriff of our own, there is not much else we can do.”
It had been well after dark before Jed had returned, frustrated that his visit to the newly married Lydia had led him nowhere in his investigation. He’d been incensed to know that Ethel, who’d been living under this very roof, was Eden’s tormentor. He’d been just as livid that he’d missed all the action.
“I should skin Eden’s hide for coming here in the first place,” he seethed. “The sooner we get this Merriweather mess over with and get her back to Georgia, the happier I’ll be.”
They all turned toward the door as it opened.
Cash limped in, his white ruffled shirt on but only halfway buttoned, his face unnaturally pale. He carried a tray in one hand and an empty bowl in the other. As he stepped into the light, Sullivan saw a spoon sticking out of his pocket.
Ric
o stepped forward and offered an arm of support, but Cash waved him off. “It’s just a scratch,” he said as he limped into the room. “I wanted to return these.”
Eden came into the lobby from the dining room, Nate right behind her. “Would you please quit following me,” she snapped. “Ethel is in jail, and I seriously doubt the Merriweather brothers are hiding in the pantry.”
“Just doin’ my job, ma’am,” Nate said with a wry smile, weaving unsteadily as he came to a halt.
Eden stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Cash. “What on earth are you doing out of bed? Don’t you have a lick of sense?”
“I’m fine,” he said again. “It’s just a...”
“Fine my foot,” she said, walking to where Cash stood. “You should be resting.”
“I came to return these,” Cash said, barely lifting the tray and bowl. “And to thank you for the soup. It was very good.”
Sullivan sat up straight. He’d come here to thank her? That was not like Cash at all.
Eden took the bowl and tray and handed them to an unprepared Nate, who almost dropped both. “How can you boys just stand there?” she snapped. “Don’t you realize that Mr. Cash has been shot?” She placed an arm around his waist. “Lean on me, Mr. Cash.”
Cash grinned as he complied, leaning much too familiarly against Eden and placing a casual arm around her shoulder. “Why don’t you call me Daniel?”
Daniel?
Jed and Rico exchanged a surprised look.
“Daniel,” Eden said with a smile. “What a lovely name.” She led Cash to the sofa and brusquely ordered Sullivan to move aside. She didn’t completely let go of her charge until he was settled comfortably on the sofa, his back resting against one arm, his legs stretched out.
“When did you take Cash soup?” Sullivan growled.
“This afternoon,” Eden said sweetly, “while you were sleeping.”
“I had to sleep a couple of hours in order to take the night watch. Can’t you stay out of trouble for two hours, so I can sleep?”
She didn’t seem at all offended. “I didn’t get in trouble, Sin. I just took Daniel a bowl of chicken soup. Nate was with me.”
Daniel. Sullivan glared at Nate, who shrugged his shoulders.
Jed shook a long finger at Sullivan. “Wait a minute. You’ve got the night watch? Why not...” Jed looked at the men around him, at a weaving Nate and a grinning Rico and a smug Cash. Apparently, at this point, there was not a man among them he trusted with his sister. “Maybe I should take the night watch myself.”
“You were up before dawn to ride out and question Lydia,” Eden said sensibly. “I wouldn’t sleep any better with you snoring outside my door. In fact, I don’t think there’s a need for this constant guard any longer.”
“Not a need?” Jed roared. “What about the Merriweathers?”
“Really, Jedidiah”—Eden reached up to pat her brother on one rough cheek—“if you were a cowardly highwayman who made a business of killing and robbing defenseless families, would you ride into town to face”—she glanced around, her gaze moving from one man to another—“all of you? I seriously doubt they are so foolish. They’re probably halfway to California by now.”
Jed grinned. “Good. Then we can leave for Georgia tomorrow.”
Eden wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so. I’m not ready to go.” She spun around before Jed could argue, leaving her brother standing there with an open mouth and a wagging finger.
“Daniel,” she said sweetly, “you look pale. Would you like a cup of hot tea? I think you need the sugar.”
Sullivan held back an evil grin. Hot tea? That offer would wipe the contented smile off of Cash’s face.
But Cash continued to look quite pleased with himself. “That would be wonderful, Eden. Hot tea. Now, why didn’t I think of that?” While Jed and Rico watched Eden and Nate return to the kitchen, Sullivan glared down at Cash. He got a friendly wink for his trouble.
* * *
Eden woke as the bed dipped, knowing, without question, that it was Sin’s weight that made the bed sink. She rolled over slowly to face him.
“I had begun to think you weren’t coming.”
“I almost didn’t,” he said softly. “Besides, I had to wait for everyone else to fall asleep.”
She scooted across the bed to be closer to him, to lay her hand on his side. “It’s been such a long day,” she said tiredly.
“That is has.” Sin let her snuggle against him, as he hadn’t last night. “But you did find time to make soup for Daniel.”
With her face hidden against his chest, she smiled. He was jealous. Not in a million years would he admit it, but he was jealous. “Well, he did get shot on my account, bless his heart.”
“Yeah,” Sin admitted grudgingly.
“A bowl of soup seems precious little thanks,” she murmured.
“Just don’t go painting your pretty pictures around Cash,” Sin warned. “He’s a hard man, and he doesn’t do anything for anybody without a damn good reason.”
“Don’t curse, Sin,” Eden murmured.
“Just be careful.”
She draped an arm around Sin and made herself more comfortable against him, slipping her foot between his denim-clad legs. “I’m an excellent judge of character,” she whispered. “Ethel was an exception, I admit, but I think Daniel is a very sweet man, beneath all the hostility.”
“Sweet?” Sin said in disbelief. “Cash?”
Eden smiled and closed her eyes. A man who would be so protective of a friend, as Daniel was for Sin’s sake, had to have a sweet streak. Deeply buried as it might be. She was tempted to tell Sin, here and now, that she loved him madly. He wasn’t ready to hear it again, though. Not yet.
She melted against him, drifting toward sleep, expecting him to either release her or roll her onto her back and make love to her. He did neither, but continued to hold her.
“I like it here,” she whispered when sleep had almost claimed her again, “in your arms. Here I am warm and safe, and nothing evil or ugly can touch me.”
She fell asleep knowing Sin would disengage himself from her as soon as consciousness left her, that he would leave her here alone in the bed. Only sex, he said. If she was too tired to make love, he surely had no need of her.
But when she woke, hours later, Sin still held her.
Chapter 21
In the four days following Ethel’s capture, the nights began to turn cold. Nate and Rico transported Ethel to the Ranburne jail, turning her over to Sheriff Tilton. Jedidiah made plans for the trip to Georgia, a trip Eden had yet to agree to, and Sin touched her whenever he got the chance.
They kissed in the tub and slept entwined. They kissed in the kitchen and by the river. They didn’t speak of love or of marriage, and as long as Jedidiah was around they continued to be either hostile or indifferent to each other. Sin didn’t think Jed would take it well if he knew they were sleeping together until the time came for her to leave, and Eden... Well, she had to take care of Sin before she could take care of Jedidiah. She wasn’t yet certain how to do that.
She was afraid any mention of permanence would ruin what they had, and since what they had was so beautiful she wasn’t ready to take that chance.
Cool autumn rain had fallen for two of those days. The rain was needed, and she found she liked the constant patter of rain on the roof and the windows of the hotel. Sin said sometimes there were violent storms that shook the town to its roots, but this rain was gentle and steady.
She sat back in the tub, reveling in the feel of warm water on her skin. For tonight’s bath she’d splurged and added some of her best rose-scented bath oils. Fragrant steam drifted up and tickled her nose.
The children were asleep, Rico and Nate were having a drink in the saloon, and Jedidiah was playing poker with Sam Sanders and Baxter Sutton and someone else whose name she’d already forgotten, in the back room of the general store. Apparently Baxter’s wife, Rose, didn’t have anything against a fr
iendly game of poker, as long as it didn’t take place in the saloon.
Opening her eyes, she looked at Sin. He sat on the floor and leaned against the wall, one leg cocked up, one stretched out and almost reaching the tub. He’d made love to her right there against the wall, once, in a way she’d not thought possible until it had happened. Her heart leaped and her core tightened at the memory.
He looked at her so hard her heart leaped again.
“Jed’s talking about taking you out of here next week, whether you want to go or not,” he said.
“Oh, is he?” She tried to sound lighthearted, but the fact of the matter was, she’d have a difficult time fighting both Jedidiah and Sin, if they decided it was time for her to go.
“Yeah. He says we should move before winter gets here, and he’s got a good point. You don’t want to be sleeping in the back of a wagon once it turns cold.”
The past few nights had offered a taste of what was coming. Last night she’d placed her hands on the windowpane in her room and felt a cold jolt that cut to her bones. “Do you agree with him?”
He didn’t answer.
“Do you still think”—she casually splashed water over her chest—“that it’s necessary for me to leave?”
Again he didn’t answer, but he did move slowly from his place against the wall. Each movement was reluctant, hesitant, but he ended up sitting beside the tub with one hand in the water. “Are you ready to go?”
“No.” She held her breath and waited for the, “It’s just sex” talk. She didn’t get it.
“I thought I would be tired of you by now,” he muttered, reaching out, slipping his hand beneath the water to touch her side. That hand slid slowly up to cup her breast. He didn’t look her in the eye, but watched the play of his hand on her flesh.
“You’re not?” she whispered.
He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No,” he admitted. “But it won’t last. We’re too different, Eden.”
“Different is good.” She reached out to touch his face. “I like different. Sometimes it seems like you and I were made for each other. When I lie beside you and put my head on your shoulder, it feels so much like my place in the world. I know a peace I’ve never known before. When we make love, I know you’re the only man I ever want to touch me that way.” She stroked her hand down to his neck.
Sullivan (The Rock Creek Six Book 2) Page 23
