Jed (The Rock Creek Six Book 4)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  All eyes turned to her, and she saw sympathy and regret in every pair.

  “Please don’t think that I’m defending Baxter because he’s married to my sister and I feel some kind of... of obligation to defend him.” She took a deep breath and steeled herself, bravely lifting her chin. “The fact of the matter is, he’s a spineless coward who doesn’t have the guts to commit a murder.”

  Mary seemed to consider her argument, and Eden nodded and spoke up. “Well, you have to admit, Baxter never has been of much use in a crisis. He always preferred hiding to confrontation.”

  “This is very true,” Mary said softly. “But the evidence is rather condemning.”

  Hannah explained, again, how Baxter had found the body and foolishly picked up the knife. The ladies were skeptical, but she could see that they at least considered the possibility.

  Their gathering was interrupted when Jed entered the dining room, booted footsteps heavy on the plank floor.

  On short, chubby legs, Fiona ran to her uncle, who cradled his head with one large hand and frowned mightily at the floor.

  Hannah glared at him, hoping he could feel the daggers she put in her mightiest glare.

  Eden jumped to her feet. “Headache?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Jed grumbled. “You got any of that medicine?”

  In spite of the headache he smiled and lifted Fiona into his arms.

  “Of course,” Eden said as she stepped into the kitchen.

  Fiona giggled with delight and grabbed Jed’s nose. Holding the toddler, he looked bigger than ever, imposing and rough and... somehow sweet. Oh, after this morning she knew he was not sweet!

  “Here you go,” Eden said, exiting the kitchen with a brown bottle in her hand.

  Mary and Lily rose and said good-bye, and Mary collected little Georgie and two of the rag dolls. They made plans to meet again on Thursday afternoon, and even said they hoped to see Hannah there. She was quite touched by their warmth and genuine hospitality.

  Eden took Fiona from Jed’s grasp and handed him the dark brown bottle. He uncapped it as if he planned to take a swig directly from the bottle.

  “Hold it,” Hannah snapped as she shot to her feet and stepped toward the big man. “Exactly what is that?”

  He lifted his eyebrows and held the bottle, label out, for her perusal.

  She took the bottle from him and set it aside. “You shouldn’t be taking this,” she said, leaving no room for argument. “It can be addictive, you know.”

  “I only take it when I get one of these headaches,” he said.

  She could see the pain in his eyes, in the set of the muscles in his jaw and his neck. “Sit down,” she ordered.

  He glared at her and stubbornly planted his feet.

  Eden exited the dining room, declaring that it was past time for Fiona’s nap. She left the room with the brisk walk of a woman making her escape.

  “Please,” Hannah said softly, when it appeared that Jed had no intention of doing as she asked.

  It was the please that got him. He pulled out the nearest chair and sat down.

  Hannah moved behind him and laid her hands on his shoulders. If anything, the tension in them increased. “Relax,” she said lowly.

  “If you hit me I’ll put you over my knee and...”

  “I have no intention of hitting you,” she said. Not yet. “Look down.”

  He obeyed, and she moved her hands from his shoulders to his neck, her fingers slipping beneath honey blond strands of hair that were surprisingly soft to the touch. “You really shouldn’t take that medicine,” she said as she began to massage his neck. “It’s not good for you.”

  “It works,” he grumbled.

  “So does this,” she said, pressing her fingers into his neck and kneading the tight muscles there. “Goodness, no wonder you have a headache. You’re much too tense.”

  “It’s been a rough week.” Ah, his voice already sounded better, less strained.

  “I know.” His muscles yielded to her touch, as she kneaded the small circles on the muscles in the side of his neck. “You need to relax.”

  His neck was warm, strong, and well shaped. As her fingers began a rhythm of massage on his tensest muscles, she closed her eyes and relaxed herself. She wished, with all her heart, that she had not gone to Sylvia Clancy’s house that morning, that she didn’t know the odious woman and Jed were lovers.

  “Lift your head,” she ordered tersely. While she should allow him to suffer, or to take that dreadful medicine, she still felt she owed him. Her fingers moved to his temples, where they massaged gently. A satisfied moan escaped from his lips.

  “Breathe deeply,” she said, and he obeyed without question. The pressure at his temples was softer than what she’d applied to his neck, not much more than a gentle stroking. “Now tilt your head back and look at me,” she ordered in a low voice.

  He did, tilting his head back slowly. She moved her fingers to his forehead, stroked deeply from the center outward. Eyes closed, face relaxed, Jed Rourke was oddly beautiful. Oh, he was rough and hairy and craggy, but there was a symmetry in his face, a distinct blend of perfection and ruggedness.

  He opened his eyes and pinned his gaze on her. And then there were the eyes, she was reminded, blue and penetrating.

  “It’s gone,” he said, wonder in his voice.

  “Of course.” She dropped her hands and stepped back.

  Jed stood slowly and faced her. “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “I read about it. The Orientals use massage frequently in their medical treatments.”

  “You read about it?”

  Hannah nodded.

  “You’ve never done it before?”

  “No.” Perhaps she had done something wrong. The way he looked at her...” Well, I did try it on myself a few times,” she admitted, “just to see if it would work.” She sounded like a blithering idiot! Why had she been compelled to try this on Jed? She should’ve let him suffer, or else sat back silently and allowed him to take that addictive medicine. He was going to laugh at her. There could be nothing worse, nothing more humiliating...

  “You’re a wonder, Hannah Winters,” he said with a smile.

  A wave of relief washed through her, followed by a rush of anger at herself for feeling that relief. A proper woman would simply thank him and walk away, and she would definitely not speak her mind about the man’s personal life. But Hannah hadn’t ever been quite proper.

  “So your headache is gone?”

  “Completely.”

  She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye. “Since you’re feeling better, I feel free to tell you that you are a complete moron whose poor taste in women is only exceeded by his complete lack of fashion sense and good hygiene.”

  His smile faded. “My poor taste in women?”

  “Surely Mrs. Clancy told you I was her caller this morning? Really, Jed, her husband’s barely cold and you’re... you’re...”

  “I’m not doing a goddamn thing,” he said, lifting his hands in supplication, “but following you all over town to make sure you don’t go and get yourself killed.”

  She forgot all about his indiscretions. “Following me?”

  Smug and self-satisfied, he grinned at her. The headache was obviously gone. “Following you. From the hotel to the rectory to the general store to the livery to the barber shop to the general store again and finally back here. You did good today, Hannah. No one tried to shoot you.”

  “You didn’t follow me to the rectory,” she said. “You were already there.”

  “I was not.” He didn’t look as if he felt guilty, as if he’d been caught red-handed.

  “Sylvia told me herself....”

  Jed leaned in close, bending down to place his face close to hers. “I don’t care what anybody told you. I wasn’t there.”

  He lifted a finger to silence her. “Let me tell you something, Hannah,” he said quietly. “I’ve done a lot of things in my life that I’m not proud of, b
ut I’ve never lied about any of them. Ask me,” he challenged. “Ask me anything.”

  “Are you and Sylvia... Did you... Are you...” Oh, it wasn’t like her to stammer and stumble over her words!

  “Let me help you out here, darlin’,” Jed said with a wink. “Not anymore.”

  Darlin’. No one had ever called her darlin’ before. “So you weren’t the man who was hiding in her bedroom this morning?” she pressed.

  “Nope.” Not only did Jed deny being that man, he didn’t seem at all concerned that another man had been there.

  Hannah took too much comfort from that realization. If he still cared for Sylvia, wouldn’t he be jealous? “Why on earth are you trailing after me all day?”

  “To keep you from getting killed,” he answered without hesitation.

  “Why?”

  His blue eyes bored into her. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I don’t rightly know.”

  Hannah only had one more question. She was fairly sure she knew what the answer would be, but she needed to hear it from his own lips. “Do you think Baxter is guilty?”

  This time there was no hesitation. “Yes, I do.”

  * * *

  Standing in the lobby, Jed greeted the kids when they came in from school, lifting Millie off her feet and swinging her around before setting her on the ground to hear Rafe brag about the good grade he’d gotten in English. Teddy asked Jed if he’d like to engage in a little shooting competition down by the river, after he’d finished with his homework. That impudent whippersnapper, Jed thought proudly as he accepted the challenge.

  When Eden and Fiona walked into the lobby, Eden put the toddler down and tried to shush the children, who were all talking at once.

  “Uncle Jed has a headache,” she said in a lowered voice.

  “No, I don’t,” he said with a smile.

  “You took the medicine?” she asked, frowning. “It usually puts you to sleep.”

  He shook his head. “No. Hannah fixed my headache.”

  Eden narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “She fixed it?”

  Jed grinned widely. “Yes ma’am, she did.” The woman never ceased to amaze him.

  Fiona ran straight to Teddy, who handed his books to Rafe and picked up the child. She patted his cheeks and said “Teddy, Teddy, Teddy,” in quick baby-like talk that sounded nothing like the boy’s name yet was still recognizable.

  “There’s milk and apples and biscuits in the kitchen,” Eden said. “You three get a snack and then do your homework.”

  The children obeyed, talking as they walked into the dining room. Teddy continued to carry Fiona, leaving Jed and Eden alone.

  “Have a seat,” Eden said as she sat on the couch and patted the space beside her.

  Jed almost groaned aloud. Eden was wearing her sweetest, most insistent “we-need-to-talk” face.

  But he sat obediently.

  “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I always imagined that one day you would show up at my door with a sweet, young bride. Someone who would tame that vulgar mouth of yours and make you stay in one place for longer than a month or two.”

  “Sounds like hell to me,” Jed grumbled.

  She chastised him with a glance. “It’s what you need Jedidiah.”

  “No,” he said gently. “It’s what you need. The fact of the matter is, I’ll never get married. You know how I am. I get bored with any place or any person after a time. There’s always a better place out there to see, a better woman to... well, a better woman. Would you really want to do that to some sweet, young gal?”

  Eden pursed her lips. “It’s just not natural.”

  Jed grinned.

  “And now you seem to be courting Hannah Winters, and while she is a...”

  “Whoa,” Jed snapped, his grin fading. “I am not courting anyone, and if I were, it wouldn’t be that... that woman. She’s nosy and sharp-tongued and bossy as hell.”

  “Well, you did have dinner with her Saturday night,” Eden said with wide eyes.

  “As friends,” Jed added.

  “You’ve never had a woman friend before.”

  I’ve never met a woman like Hannah. He bit that response back, kept it to himself. Eden would read too much into such a simple statement. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  “Just as well,” Eden said, patting his cheek affectionately. “One day I’ll find that sweet young girl for you and you’ll settle down right here in Rock Creek and have a dozen children.”

  “Heaven forbid,” he grumbled. “Christ, Eden, I thought you liked me.”

  “I adore you,” she said with a smile. “And I know what’s best for you.”

  He narrowed his eyes, feeling strangely defensive. “Are you trying to tell me that Hannah is not what’s best for me?”

  “As long as you’re just friends...”

  “Well, what if I changed my mind?” he challenged. “What if I decided I did want to court her?”

  “It’s just that she’s... I do like her, but she’s not...” Eden bit her lower lip.

  “You have no say in my love life, Eden Sullivan,” he snapped. “What makes you think you know better than I do what I need in a woman?”

  “Well, if this isn’t the pot calling the kettle black,” she countered with a soft smile. “If I remember correctly, you forbade me to marry Sin.”

  His nose twitched, his shoulders tensed. “That was different.”

  “How so?”

  How so? He should have a quick answer for that one, a hundred quick answers. Nothing came to mind.

  He glanced nervously toward the dining room entrance. “Do you think Teddy’s finished with his homework, yet? I promised him we’d have target practice this afternoon. He’s still pulling a bit to the right.”

  “Teddy hasn’t even had time to finish his after-school snack, much less his homework.”

  Jed fidgeted on the sofa.

  “I only want you to be happy,” Eden said softly.

  Jed laid eyes on his sister. All his life he’d protected and sheltered her. Handing her over to Sullivan had been hard. Letting her go completely had been damn near impossible. Eden often accused him of treating her like she was still twelve, and maybe she was right.

  “I am happy,” he assured her. “I like my life the way it is. No ties, no obligations. When my feet get to itching, I move on. I’ll wander to the day I die. That’s what makes me happy.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Eden said simply and decisively.

  Chapter 8

  Hannah’s investigation was maddeningly unsatisfying. Days of interviews revealed nothing new. Reverend Clancy had been a fire-and-brimstone preacher on Sunday and a libertine the other six days of the week. A large number of people in Rock Creek had reason to want him dead. Most were satisfied to pin the crime on Baxter and be done with it.

  Jed continued to follow her, trailing behind at a distance. She didn’t want to prove him right in his assessment of her inadequate social skills and the inevitable result, so she behaved with uncommon decorum. She hit no one with her cane, and no matter how difficult it was, she kept her temper under control. She would not give Jed Rourke the satisfaction of coming to her rescue again!

  As the date of the trial approached, Rose looked worse and worse. It was evident she wasn’t sleeping well, if at all, and Bertie confirmed that to be the truth. Most of Friday was already gone, wasted, and the judge would be here to try Baxter on Monday morning!

  In Hannah’s estimation, Baxter Sutton was a poor excuse for a man. He’d declined to serve in the war, opting instead to move West. To run from conflict. The man had no spine, and no apparent charm to make up for that lack.

  But Rose must love him to suffer so. Hannah began to suspect that if Baxter hung, Rose would die shortly thereafter.

  For all his faults, Baxter did have one redeeming quality. He might not be courageous, but at least once in his life he had made a stand. When Elliot Winters had refused to give Baxter Sutton his eldest daughter
’s hand in marriage, Baxter and Rose had eloped. True, Baxter had not actually stood up to the irascible Elliot Winters, but he had come for Rose in the night and taken her. He had refused to be denied his love.

  For that alone, Hannah felt compelled to save him. It appeared that the only way she could do that would be to act as his attorney. While she had no formal training, she felt certain she was as qualified as any man in Rock Creek to take on the chore.

  The trial would take place in two days. Two days!

  Head high, dejection pushed down as far as possible, she headed for the jail. Perhaps today Baxter would remember seeing something or someone unusual that morning. It was inconceivable that the wrong man would hang and a murderer would go free.

  She found Sheriff Sullivan seated at his desk. Judging by the expression on his face as he rose to his feet, he was not happy to see her.

  “I’d like to see my brother-in-law,” she said crisply.

  “Sure.” Sullivan opened the door that separated the office from the hallway and the two plain cells that completed Rock Creek’s jailhouse. It was always gloomy, as if the light that broke through the two small windows was dimmed not only by winter, but by the very atmosphere of the jail.

  Sitting on the cot at the rear wall of his cell, head down, Baxter was pale and thinner than she remembered. He’d lost weight in the week she’d been here.

  “Any luck?” he asked, no hope in his voice.

  “No,” she said, refusing to lie to him about the situation. “Did you remember seeing anything that morning, anything that might be of help?”

  He shook his head. “I was so angry when I marched over there to see Clancy, I didn’t notice anything or anybody.”

  Exactly what she’d been afraid of. “I’ll serve as your attorney,” she said crisply. “You’re going to need someone to stand up there with you and try to make sense of this.”

  “Thank you,” he said softly, not arguing as she’d expected him to. Baxter lifted his head and laid weary eyes on her. “I want you to promise me something,” he said softly. “If they find me guilty, I want you to take Rose and the boys and get out of Rock Creek as quick as you can.”