Cash (The Rock Creek Six Book 6)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  The solemn words Nate spoke didn’t mean a lot to her. This ceremony was a legality, nothing more. A way for Cash to soothe his conscience a little. A wedding should be the beginning of a wonderful life, but all throughout her secret wedding she kept thinking that this ceremony marked the end.

  * * *

  Married. It was a circumstance he had avoided, ridiculed, frowned upon, and now entered. Like fatherhood, the condition required more than Cash had ever been able to give. Lucky for him, this marriage wasn’t real. Yeah, he was a real lucky guy. So why did he have a boulder sitting in his stomach?

  Holding Nadine’s hand, all but hauling her behind him in the early morning light, he headed for Rogue’s Palace. More specifically, he headed for the bed above stairs, where he had not been able to sleep last night. He wasn’t planning on sleeping now.

  “Where are we going?” Nadine asked as he led her into the dim clinic that had once been his saloon.

  “Where all newlyweds go, darlin’. To bed.”

  “Cash...”

  “Satin sheets,” he said, not bothering to turn around and look at Nadine. If he did, how could he continue to convince himself that he didn’t care about losing her? “Whiskey, if you need it.” God only knows, he might need a swig or two to get through the next few days.

  As soon as he stepped into the room, Cash released Nadine’s hand and shrugged off his coat. With his back to her, he began to undress. The vest and shirt went first, and then he turned around to find Nadine standing in the doorway, staring at him as if he were a stranger.

  It would be best if she turned and walked away right now. Clean break, no tender feelings left, no annoying hope that things might work out. “What are you waiting for?” he asked coolly. “Lose the clothes.”

  Nadine cocked her head and studied him with eyes that saw too much.

  “Hurry up,” he said. “Don’t we have to consummate the marriage for it to be legal?”

  “Is that why we’re here?” she asked softly.

  “Yes.” He waited for his bride to turn and run, as she should, but instead she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, unbuttoning her blouse as she walked toward him.

  “That took a long time to heal, didn’t it?” she asked, nodding to the scar on his side.

  He glanced down. “I guess it did.”

  Nadine whipped the blouse over her head and began to unbutton her skirt. “Turn around.”

  He did as she asked, stiffening as she laid her hand over the scar on his back. “What’s this one?”

  “Knife. The only time I never saw it coming. If Nate hadn’t been there—” He stopped in midsentence as Nadine ran her fingers down the old scar.

  “They look different by daylight,” she said. “Meaner. Harsher.”

  “So do I,” he said as he turned to face her.

  They finished the job of undressing, not assisting each other as they usually did, but circling around restlessly and dropping one piece of clothing at a time until they were both naked.

  Nadine didn’t look harsher by daylight. She looked as beautiful as ever, perfection in his very imperfect world.

  “This one,” she said, laying her hand over the scar on his thigh.

  “Shot by a whore,” he said, keeping the complicated story simple, making it ugly.

  She didn’t recoil in horror but caressed the scar. “Do you know much I hurt for each and every one of these scars? The big ones, the small ones.” She traced the fingers of her other hand over a very thin, tiny mark on his forearm. He couldn’t even remember how he got that one. “I can heal just about anything, but I can’t do a damn thing about your scars.” She lifted his arm and laid her lips over the insignificant mark, tenderly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted.

  She took her time, kissing each scar, tracing every mark with gentle fingers and then tasting, caressing, healing. Circling around him slowly, constantly moving, she kissed and traced the small scars on his back. She even knelt before him and kissed the puckered mark on his thigh. While she kissed him there, one hand rested on his erection, the fingers deftly stroking while she ran her tongue from the scar to his inner thigh and back again.

  When she rose to her feet, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him one more time, there above his heart, her soft lips lingering where the flesh was unmarked, as if she tasted every beat.

  He laid her on red satin sheets, parted her thighs with his hand, and entered her quickly. She was ready. Wet and welcoming, she lifted her hips and took him in. He made love to her fast and hard, eyes on the tantalizing sight of pale flesh on red satin, of perfect flesh against his own imperfect body, her gentle curves against his hard planes.

  Eyes closed, she openly savored every stroke, welcomed every thrust, until she parted her lips and shuddered, her inner muscles grabbing him, squeezing as she climaxed with a hoarse cry. Cash drove deep one last time, came hard and fierce while Nadine still quivered beneath and around him.

  When he drifted down to cover her sweating body with his, she smiled and hummed in contentment. But then, she didn’t know this was the last time they would ever be together this way.

  * * *

  His head pounded, and he didn’t want to open his eyes. The bit of light that shot through his closed eyelids hurt badly enough. Oh, he would never drink another drop of whiskey, he swore it.

  “Come on, JD,” a gruff voice commanded. “Wake up.”

  He opened one eye to find Cash glaring down at him. JD swallowed hard. Had he really threatened to kill Cash last night? Had his mother really taken up with the gunslinger who had once been his hero?

  “We need to talk.”

  JD sat up, trying to hide the fact that it hurt to move. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” he mumbled.

  “Well, I have plenty to say to you.” Cash tossed him his trousers and shirt, leaving the borrowed duster and hat on the chair by the window, where he’d placed them the night before.

  Delving into Cash’s trunk, stealing the gunslinger’s things, had made JD feel big for a few minutes. Now he just felt like a thief.

  But since it was impossible to argue in his underwear, he dressed quickly. “I don’t need you to tell me I made a big mistake.”

  “I don’t imagine I do,” Cash said, staring out the window while JD dressed.

  “And I don’t plan to make drinking a regular diversion.”

  “I certainly hope not.”

  That could mean only one thing. Cash intended to talk about his mother. It was a discussion JD wasn’t looking forward to. He tried to remember exactly what he’d said last night, but he couldn’t. It hadn’t been pretty, he knew that much.

  “All right,” JD said, straightening his spine. “What do you have to say?”

  Cash turned around, his eyes raking over every corner of the room as he moved. “Not here,” he said softly. He stalked from the room, and JD followed.

  He knew almost as soon as they left the hotel where they were headed. The river. JD’s dread grew with every step. For all he knew, Cash planned to beat the tar out of him. For taking his things, for shooting into Millie and Fiona’s bedroom. For ordering Cash to stay away from his mother. JD took a deep breath and fought back the nausea and pain. Hell, maybe Cash should beat the tar out of him. Not for warning him away from Nadine, not for something so small as borrowing his clothes. But for shooting into the hotel... maybe he’d feel better if someone did make him pay.

  Cash went to the rock that jutted over the water and sat, looking toward the east, relaxing. He didn’t look like he was about to beat anyone up. “Have a seat,” he said.

  JD sat beside the gunslinger, who continued to stare out over the water as if there were something special there. Something besides sun on flowing water, wild-flowers, and a scraggly collection of birds.

  Something about the harshness of the morning sunlight made Cash look older. There were lines around his dark eyes, lines bracketing his stern mouth. It was almost as if he’d aged
overnight. Maybe he had. Maybe they all had.

  “I don’t want you to think that I, or anyone, would ever disrespect your mother,” Cash said. He turned and planted his black, narrowed eyes on JD. “I’ve loved her since I was not much older than you are now. She’s a fine woman. If I made a few mistakes, it was because I loved her too much. You were right to defend her,” he added darkly. “I respect that.”

  “I didn’t think you loved her. I just thought—”

  “Not that I want you to tell her I said that,” Cash interrupted curtly. “That’s just between us. A little secret.”

  “Sure,” JD said, feeling confused. Why was something like that a secret?

  “I’m leaving town soon,” Cash said. “I’m sure you’ll take good care of your mother after I’m gone.”

  “Yeah,” JD said, his heart sinking. Was Cash leaving because he’d warned the gunslinger to leave his mother alone? “But you don’t have to—”

  “She’s a good woman,” Cash interrupted again. “Remember that, no matter what. If anyone made any mistakes here, it was me.”

  He actually looked sad, which made JD feel guilty all over again.

  Cash stared out over the water again, squinting against the sun. “About your father,” he began. And then he became silent for so long, JD began to get anxious.

  “What about him?” JD finally urged.

  “Joseph Ellington was a good man,” Cash said. “The finest. I hate that he died before you had a chance to really know him.”

  “Everybody says that about him,” JD said, leaning slightly forward to look at Cash’s stony face.

  Cash nodded. “That’s it. Go home, JD.”

  JD ran, leaving the gunfighter sitting by the river.

  * * *

  Cash made his way slowly into town, taking his time, thinking about the days to come. That stupid yellow dog was soon right beside him.

  “Get lost, mutt,” he mumbled.

  The mutt didn’t have the sense to obey, but continued to lope along with his tongue hanging out and his tail wagging.

  In the days ahead, he would do everything in his power to make sure that Nadine and JD and the baby were taken care of. He had never asked much of his friends, not since the end of the war. But he was going to ask now. He would beg if he had to.

  The dog danced in his path, making Cash come up short again and again. He cursed mightily under his breath, but before long he got used to the mutt.

  “My kid likes you, you stupid dog,” Cash said as he approached town. “He’d call out a gunslinger to keep you safe.” JD was almost a man, and in spite of the mistakes he’d made... and he’d made plenty of them... he had a good heart. The boy had his mother’s heart and his mother’s eyes. Thank God.

  Reese’s house came into view, and he headed in that direction. The dog headed for Lily’s place, where a meal no doubt awaited him.

  A man might become a teacher, Cash thought as he approached Reese’s house, he might put aside his soldiering to settle down, but deep down he was still the same man who had led them into battle and kept them all alive. And he had brought them here.

  He knocked on the door soundly since he heard a baby’s cry from inside the house. Reese answered the door, dressed in perfectly ordinary clothes for a perfectly ordinary day. His youngest daughter, a sniffling Virginia, clung to his shoulder.

  “Sullivan?” Reese inquired crisply.

  “Doing well as of an hour ago,” Cash said.

  Reese nodded, and when Mary came to the door he handed the baby over and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

  Cash put all his pride aside. “I need your help.”

  * * *

  Nadine examined Sullivan’s wound, happy with its appearance.

  Just a couple of hours earlier she had come awake, alone in Cash’s bed, wondering if she’d just woken from a dream. The wedding, the way he’d made love to her afterward... a mixture of emotions and sensations, so beautiful and sad at the same time, could not be real. Could they?

  But coming awake wrapped in red satin sheets, finding her clothes tossed around the room... she knew what had happened was all too real. She also knew that if she didn’t do something soon, she was going to lose Cash forever.

  “You should rest for a few more days,” she instructed as she rebandaged Sullivan’s wound. “If you need help during your convalescence, I’m sure Cash would be happy to take on some of your duties, maybe act as deputy until you’re on your feet.” She knew Cash wanted badly to do something to make amends.

  Sullivan shook his head. “Daniel Cash? The law in this town? Not even for one day.”

  “That’s hardly fair,” Nadine said softly.

  “Fair? If word got out that Cash was acting deputy, this place would be overrun with ambitious gunfighters. I don’t need that. None of us do. I have a deputy. If Marlon needs help, Jed and Rico will fill in until I’m able. I don’t expect that will be more than a couple of days.”

  “Don’t hold a grudge—” she began.

  “I’m not rejecting the offer because Cash shot me,” Sullivan interrupted. “Eden explained everything,” he added in a low voice.

  “She did?”

  “She also said Cash doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  Nadine shook her head. “I don’t understand why he’s so determined to keep it a secret.”

  “I do,” Sullivan said kindly in spite of his current predicament. “Cash shot me without thinking twice, to protect that boy. I can’t blame him. I’d do the same thing to protect any one of my kids.”

  “You should tell him that,” Nadine suggested. “He’s so sure this has ruined... everything. All he wants is to start over. You did that, and so did the others. Why is Cash so certain he can’t do the same thing?”

  “When you have a name like Cash does, it’s not so easy,” Sullivan said, his voice low and understanding. “He’s like a brother to me, and if I could make things right for him, I would. But his life is catching up with him, and I don’t think he’s got any place left to hide.”

  Nadine closed her eyes. So many secrets. A son, a marriage, a baby. And no place to hide for any of them.

  Chapter 18

  It would be so easy to indulge in one wedding night. One last night in Nadine’s bed, one night where everything in his life was as right as it was ever going to be. She was his wife, they were together, to hell with tomorrow.

  That was impossible. He wanted more than anything to cross the street and walk up the stairs to Nadine’s room, but he wouldn’t for three very good reasons. First of all, leaving was already going to hurt too much. Best to make a clean break, and sooner was always better than later. He also had to consider the possibility that if he indulged in one more night with Nadine, she would talk him into staying. For another week, for another month. Forever. He had a feeling he would not put up much of a fight in the right circumstances.

  But it was the third reason that kept him in his chair in Three Queens. If he went to Nadine now, she would know how he felt. She would romanticize their time together and after he left she would wait for him to come back. The faithful wife, waiting for her vagabond husband. He couldn’t do that to her, give her hope where there was none.

  He shouldn’t have taken her to his room after the solemn, hellish wedding that morning. He’d meant the episode to be cold physical pleasure and nothing else, a distant and heartless good-bye. But with a touch and a word, Nadine had come too close to making their last joining something more, a meeting of the heart as well as the body.

  She had such hope, such foolish optimism. Hell, not going to her tonight would not be enough. He’d have to make her understand that she meant nothing to him. That once he left Rock Creek, he would never come back.

  Lily was onstage singing. Usually such entertainment in an otherwise perfectly good saloon annoyed him, but tonight he liked it. Rico’s wife had never cut Cash any slack, and there were times when the very sight of her got his hackles up. But,
he had to admit, the sound of her voice was oddly soothing tonight. It made him forget for a few minutes what he’d done and what he still had to do.

  Rico joined him at the table. The kid wasn’t wearing his usual easy grin as he pulled out a chair and sat. They didn’t have much to smile about tonight.

  “Jed said Sullivan is doing well. Complaining that the doctor will not let him out of bed, but that is to be expected.”

  Cash just nodded.

  “He is robusto. He will be on his feet in no time.”

  “English, kid,” Cash said without any real fire in his voice or his heart. He took a deep breath and stared not at the man across the table but at the whiskey before him. “If it had been daylight, I would have shot the gun out of his hand. But it was too dark, and I was running, and Sullivan was moving. I didn’t want to shoot his gun hand, maybe blow off a finger or damage the muscle so that he’d have to learn to shoot with his left. He was never very good with his left hand, you remember?”

  “Si.”

  “I could’ve winged him in the leg and that would’ve dropped him, but it wouldn’t have made him drop his gun, and he still would’ve fired at JD.” Cash finally lifted his eyes from the whiskey. Did they all look at him differently now? Would they forever look at him differently? They fought, they argued... but they didn’t shoot one another.

  “It is not your fault,” Rico said softly.

  “How could it possibly not be my fault?” Cash asked, his voice sharp. “I shot him.”

  “To save a child,” Rico said. “Your child,” he added softly.

  Cash almost laughed. “Eden told you?”

  “No one told me, amigo.” Rico gave in to a weak smile. “JD walks like you, with that I-dare-the-world-to-stop-me swagger.”

  Cash lifted his eyebrows slightly.

  “He has your mouth,” Rico continued.

  “No, he has his mother’s—”

  “Not the shape,” Rico interrupted. “The tendency to say that which should not be said in a way that is sure to offend everyone.” His quick smile faded. “He stands like you, he squints at the sun like you... he eats a biscuit like you do.”