Cash (The Rock Creek Six Book 6)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Her hand grazed over his ribs, and came to rest over the scar at his side. The first, oldest, and worst scar. “This was a bad wound,” she said softly.

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Want to tell me what happened?”

  “Not especially.”

  She sighed, and he felt her hot breath on his skin. “I hope you had someone to take care of you.”

  Cash laughed bitterly. “Four someones,” he whispered.

  Nadine lifted her head and looked down at him, her face soft and deeply shadowed by broken moonlight. “Four someones?”

  What difference did it make? Two weeks from now he’d be gone. But what part of the story did he dare to tell? He would not tell her a sad story that would bring tears to her eyes, and he would not hurt her with the entire truth.

  He had ridden away from Marianna expecting to die. Not caring that he would soon be dead. Hurting so much death would be a relief. But he’d awakened in a soft bed, surrounded by four beautiful, half-clothed women. They’d undressed him, cleaned him, bandaged the wound, and watched over him with an intensity, demanding that he heal.

  “I was separated from my unit,” he said simply. “When I awoke I was in a... large house outside the city limits of a small town.”

  “What town?” she asked, naively curious.

  Cash sighed. Damn, he didn’t want to tell all, but he would not lie to her. Not now, not like this. “A little town close to the Texas-Louisiana border.”

  Her eyes went wide. “You were so close to home,” she whispered, placing her hands on his cheeks and leaning in to place her nose on his. “If you had traveled a little farther, I might’ve been able to—”

  “I had already been to Marianna,” he said sharply. “I was on my way back to my unit when they found me.”

  Nadine didn’t move. For a few seconds the room was so still and quiet, he felt and heard her heart beating against his. “When did this happen?”

  “March 1862,” he whispered.

  Nadine didn’t say a word, she didn’t even breathe.

  A tear dropped from her eye and landed on his face. “Is that when you saw me? My wedding day?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you thought...” She swallowed hard. “You thought I was happy?” she asked, remembering an older conversation.

  “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does,” she breathed. “You were there, and you were hurt.” Her hand skimmed tenderly over the scar. Another tear dropped onto his cheek, and another. “I hate that,” she whispered hoarsely. “So much.”

  He felt her gain control. She stiffened a little, her tears stopped, and she ran a slightly trembling hand through his hair. “But someone found you and took care of you, thank God. Four women? Were they sisters?”

  “Business associates,” he said.

  Nadine’s head came up slowly. “Business associates? You recuperated in a... in a...”

  “Cathouse,” he said, supplying the word she could not bring herself to say.

  It hadn’t taken him long to figure out what kind of establishment he was in. The women... he couldn’t remember their names or their faces, but he certainly did remember their bodies... had always been clothed in sheer nightgowns or low-cut dresses not completely fastened. A young man with a broken heart, he had been utterly fascinated.

  “I thought I was dead,” he whispered. “But they took care of me and I did heal.”

  They’d done their best to heal more than his body. They’d set about to mend his heart as soon as he found himself able. He must have mentioned Nadine’s name in his fevered state, because they knew what had happened. And they all did their best to make him feel better the only way they knew how. It had been his first experience with sex for pure pleasure, and they had taught him well. Some nights he’d come awake to find one of the women already in his bed. Hands and mouths on him, bodies pressed against his.

  One of them, the blond one, had told him he was young and pretty, and they didn’t have many young and pretty men left in the area. Everyone had gone off to war. He didn’t care why they came to his bed, only that they did. And by the time he left he’d convinced himself that what he’d had with Nadine was no different from what he’d had with four women whose names he wouldn’t remember.

  “When I was able to travel, they gave me the clothes that used to belong to a gambler who had died in someone’s bed. A black suit, a ruffled shirt.” He smiled. “I hated that shirt at first. What kind of a man wears ruffles? But it turned out to be a lucky shirt. Nothing touched me after that.”

  “The scar on your thigh,” she said softly.

  “That came much later,” he said, offering no further explanation. The protection had lasted through the war. Later... he had always been lucky, but he had not remained untouched.

  Nadine settled her head against his chest. “After you healed, you went back to war.”

  And eventually joined Reese and the elite band Colonel Mosby assembled. Six men who were fearless, talented, deadly. Men who didn’t care if they lived or not. “Yes.”

  More silent tears touched his chest. “It’s so unfair,” Nadine whispered. “All I wanted was you. You and our baby. They told me you were dead, and while I was marrying Joseph, you were wounded and watching and... so close.”

  “It doesn’t do either of us any good to cry about it now,” Cash said. “Maybe it was fate. Maybe we just weren’t meant to be.”

  Nadine didn’t lift her head, but something in her body changed. It softened, it raked against his like a cat’s. Her hand snaked lower to touch him. His response was quick and undeniable. “How can you say we weren’t meant to be? We’re together now. We can be together always if you’ll just dismiss this ridiculous notion that love and family are for everyone in the world but Daniel Cash.”

  She lifted her leg over his, very slowly snaked over and across until she straddled him. “Maybe we had to wait, and maybe we had to go through hell to get here. But that doesn’t mean we don’t belong together.”

  He didn’t want to argue with her, not now, but she had to know. “I’m not staying,” he whispered.

  “I have two weeks to change your mind,” she whispered, and then she laid her mouth over his, took him into her slick, hot body, and did her best to do just that.

  Chapter 13

  For the past three days, they had worked in what had once been Rogue’s Palace in the morning, and come down to the river for target practice in the afternoon, before JD sneaked off to tap on walls and tug at floorboards with Teddy and Rafe.

  The kid was good. He had adjusted quickly to Cash’s efforts to rattle him, learning to ignore the crisply barked orders and distractions that were thrown his way. He didn’t miss often, and he remained calm as he fired. JD had the kind of confidence that could get him killed.

  It was one of those hot summer days that sent most people scurrying for shade, but Cash and JD stood bravely in the sun. Jacket and vest long ago discarded, Cash had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up in concession to the heat. He sweated profusely while he watched his son kill whiskey bottles and empty cans with ease.

  Yeah, the kid was too good.

  None of Cash’s subtle warnings about the life of a gunslinger were getting through the boy’s thick skull. Danger meant nothing to him, and he didn’t quite seem to grasp the concept that his life would be on the line every day. He thought he was untouchable. Invincible. Cash remembered that feeling too well.

  Cash knew he could always hand this chore over to one of the other guys, or to all of them. That wasn’t enough. He wanted to know, before he left Rock Creek, that JD had come to his senses.

  A scruffy-looking yellow dog had been hanging around the last two days. The dumb creature didn’t even have the sense to run from gunfire, but watched the proceedings curiously from what he no doubt considered a safe distance.

  Cash glanced at JD’s straight, proud back, the smoking gun in the kid’s hand, and the mutt.

  “Shoot th
e dog,” he ordered.

  JD turned around and looked past Cash to the hill where the dog stood. The mutt’s tongue was hanging out, his tail wagged.

  “I can’t shoot that dog,” he said, shaking his head to reaffirm his position on the subject. “Carrie and Millie feed him. They’d be really pissed if I killed their dog.”

  Cash would not back down. “You’ve proven to me that you can shoot objects that don’t shoot back and don’t bleed. If you’re going to be a gunfighter—”

  “That dog can’t shoot back,” JD interrupted.

  “But it will bleed.”

  “Millie and Carrie—”

  “Every man you will face as a gunfighter has someone who feeds them,” Cash snapped. “A wife, a mother, a sister. If you hesitate, if you think of the man before you as a living being who is cared for by someone, you’re dead, because he’s going to get off the first shot while you’re standing there wondering if you’re doing the right thing.” He knew his son, he knew there was no way the kid would ever shoot that mutt. He just wasn’t sure JD knew that yet.

  “Shoot the dog.”

  The kid got a gleam in his eye and he smiled. “This is just one of your tests. You don’t really want me to shoot the dog. You wouldn’t shoot it.”

  Cash drew his six-shooter, spun, and fired. The bullet hit the ground a good foot away from the stupid dog. Dirt and grass went flying, and the mutt finally got smart and made his escape at a run.

  He turned around to see that JD had gone deathly white. “You missed,” he said, sounding relieved.

  I never miss. “Yeah,” Cash said as he holstered his gun. “Maybe I should be getting in some target practice myself.”

  JD’s nostrils flared. “I can’t believe you’d shoot a dog,” he said as he holstered his own weapon easily.

  “A gunslinger with a conscience is a dead gunslinger.”

  With a youthful, arrogant gait, JD walked toward him. “You know, I don’t think I want to be a gunfighter anymore,” he said sullenly.

  Cash withheld a grin. “Oh, really?”

  “So far it hasn’t been much fun.”

  “I never said it was fun, kid.”

  “I’m thinking maybe when Teddy goes to work for his uncle Jed, maybe I’ll see if I can get a job there, too.”

  Rourke Detective Agency. Cash wasn’t sure that Nadine would like that idea, either, but at least JD knew he’d have to wait a few years before beginning that career.

  “I don’t know if Mr. Rourke will hire me or not,” JD admitted. “He still calls me a little woodpecker whenever he sees me, and that kinda rankles.”

  “I imagine it does.”

  “But if I show him that I can shoot, and that I’d make a good detective, maybe he’d hire me anyway.”

  “I imagine he would,” Cash said, trying not to sound as relieved as he felt. He really wouldn’t mind leaving his son in Jed’s hands. “And since your mother’s going to stay here in Rock Creek, you could go to school when it starts up again.”

  “Yeah. Teddy said Mr. Reese is a pretty good teacher.” He gave Cash a half-smile. “But he doesn’t look much like any teacher I ever had in Marianna.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t.”

  “I probably won’t be able to get away with much foolishness in his classroom.”

  Cash tried not to smile. “I don’t imagine so.”

  The kid looked directly at him, eyes wide and naive and so much like his mother’s. “Are you disappointed?” he asked. “That I changed my mind?”

  “Not at all,” Cash said calmly. “The last thing I need out there is more competition.”

  The grin JD flashed was genuine and so very young. “Can I tell Ma what we’re doing to your saloon? We’ll be done in just a few days.”

  “Not yet,” Cash said. “I want it to be a surprise. Let’s wait until we’re finished.”

  As they walked away from the river, JD added a little swagger to his walk. Cash could tell the kid was doing some serious thinking, the way his eyes narrowed and his lips hardened. He might have looked quite tough for thirteen, if not for the way his face paled and his voice trembled as he said, “I feel I have to warn you, Cash. If you ever shoot that dog, you’ll have to answer to me.”

  Cash smiled. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

  * * *

  Nadine hurried down the stairs with a bounce in her step and a wide smile on her face. Eden was alone in the lobby of the Paradise Hotel, dusting the long front desk. “Do you know where Cash is?” Nadine asked, almost whispering.

  “He’s taking a bath,” Eden said, nodding toward the room on the ground floor where the tub was located.

  Nadine glanced into the dining room. “Where are the boys?”

  Eden smiled. “They’re digging up the garden, trying to stay out of my line of vision so I’ll have no idea what they’re up to.”

  Nadine paced in the lobby until Eden excused herself to check on how her kitchen help was proceeding with supper. When there was no one around to see, Nadine slipped past the stairs to the doorway of the small room where Cash bathed. She pushed against the door, but it was bolted on the inside.

  She heard the brush of metal against leather as Cash drew his gun. Good heavens, he couldn’t even take a bath without keeping his weapons close at hand!

  “It’s me,” she said softly. “Let me in.”

  She heard the splash of water, a soft footstep, and then the bolt was lifted and the door swung open. A naked, dripping-wet Cash grabbed her arm and pulled her inside before closing and rebolting the door.

  She threw her arms around his neck and held on tight, burying her face against his wet shoulder. Laughing and crying at the same time, she held him close. “You did it,” she whispered against his skin. “I knew you could.”

  “I see you’ve talked with JD.”

  She nodded her head. “He wants to go to work for Jed. A week ago he couldn’t stand the man!”

  “I think Teddy has been working on him there,” Cash said casually. “And Teddy probably has as much to do with his decision to give up his notion of being a gunfighter as I do.”

  “I don’t want to thank Teddy,” she whispered, taking her head from Cash’s shoulder so she could look up at him. “I want to thank you.”

  A window set high in the wall allowed light to spill into the small room, bathing them in warm sunshine. Cash looked so vulnerable—naked, wet, his arms around her and his dark eyes boring into hers. He didn’t look like a gunfighter, he looked like a man. Her man. The years that had passed since she’d first fallen in love with him showed in the scars he wore and the small lines around his eyes. The darkness in those eyes told of the things he had seen and borne, and the dusting of dark hair on his hard chest and lean legs reminded her that he was no longer a boy.

  “I love you,” she whispered. “I would give my soul to keep you here with us.”

  “Don’t say that,” he commanded.

  “It’s the truth.” She unbuttoned her blouse and then whipped it over her head. “Don’t ask me to lie to you, Cash. Don’t ask me to pretend I don’t love you.”

  “You’re kidding yourself—”

  “Don’t ruin this moment for me,” she interrupted, touching a finger to Cash’s lips. “JD is safe, I have you, for the moment everything is perfect. I haven’t had many perfect moments in my life. Don’t take this one away.”

  He didn’t try to tell her again that she didn’t, couldn’t, love him.

  She removed her clothing, which was damp from coming in contact with Cash’s wet body, and tossed it to the floor. She walked into his arms again and lifted her face to look him in the eye. That little beard, in conjunction with his dark eyes, made him look slightly devilish. A fact of which he was surely aware. But she saw so much more than a devil. More than a soldier, a gunfighter, a killer. She saw the father of her son, her lover, a tender man hiding behind a facade he’d constructed so carefully, he probably didn’t know who he was anymore. She knew, though
. She knew.

  She laid her lips on the side of his neck and sucked softly. Heavens, she loved the feel of his skin against hers, the taste of his flesh on her tongue. The way he responded when she touched him.

  When she’d come to Rock Creek looking for help, she hadn’t expected to love Cash the way she did, and she had certainly never expected to find pleasure in an act she had always thought a woman’s duty and nothing more. There was pleasure here because she loved him. Why couldn’t he see and accept that?

  Feeling bold, she reached between their bodies and touched him, wrapping her fingers around his arousal. “I want to love you. I want to make love with you as often as possible before you go.”

  He mumbled something she couldn’t understand. It sounded like an assent. He cupped her breast and trailed one lazy hand down her back.

  “Because once you’re gone, no one will ever touch me this way.”

  His hand pressed along her body, dipping down from her breast to her stomach to delve between her thighs. He touched her gently, but with passion and urgency.

  “It doesn’t matter who’s doing the touching,” he said darkly. “As long as it’s done correctly.”

  Was he trying to remind her that she was replaceable? Or that he was?

  She lifted her head and looked him in the eye as she stroked his length and he aroused her with his fingers. “It does matter,” she whispered. “It matters very much.”

  Cash didn’t argue with her again, but lowered her to the floor and settled himself between her spread legs. He pushed inside her with a low growl and a sense of surrender she tasted as he laid his mouth over hers. He made love to her hard, without tenderness, his body pounding over and into hers with an urgency she felt to her bones.

  She wrapped her legs around his lean hips and raked her fingers through his black-as-night hair. “I love you,” she whispered. He only loved her harder, his hips driving and his mouth devouring. He pushed deep, fast and grinding, and she lost the will to speak as she got completely lost in the sensations of his body in hers.