Sullivan (24 page)

"Stupid?"

Rico gestured toward a sleeping Eden with his knife. "She is yours. I can see it in the way she turns those big blue eyes on you, in the way you stare at her when you think no one is watching. I can see it in the way you two look together."

"That doesn't make a damn bit of sense," Sullivan muttered quietly.

"Perhaps not, but that is what I see," Rico said impatiently. "I saw it the day Eden arrived in Rock Creek, when I stepped from the hotel and you were helping her from the wagon. Your eyes were pinned on her, her eyes were riveted on you." He cast out an impatient hand. "I am surprised either of you saw me at all. Eden is beautiful, she is kind, she has a smile that can make a man's heart stop. Why do you think I have not presented myself as a suitor? Because she is yours and I see it even if you do not.
Dios,
Sullivan, if a woman looked at me that way, if she trusted me enough to lay her head in my lap and sleep like a baby knowing danger is near, I would do whatever I had to do in order to keep her."

"I can't... keep her."

"Of course you can."

"I don't want to keep her." That was the truth of it, wasn't it? "If I do, one day she'll wake up and look at me and wonder what the hell she was thinking when she married me. One day she'll realize that she could've done better." And on that day, how would she look at him? With hate, disappointment, revulsion? He didn't plan to be around to see it. He'd seen that look in the faces of the only family he'd ever known, for the first fifteen years of his life. He wasn't about to put himself in a position to be confronted with the hate of someone he loved again.

He'd loved his mother dearly, and there had been days, he was convinced, when he saw a mother's love in her eyes. But the older he got the less frequent those glimpses of affection were. The more he began to look like his father, the more his mother had hated him. He'd even tried to love his grandfather and uncle, but they'd made it impossible. There had never been any affection in their eyes or in their words.

He looked down at Eden and stroked her hair. And he loved her. Damn it, he didn't want to, he
did not
want to love her or anyone else. It wouldn't last and it wasn't real, but for now...

Jed came bursting through the door, his saddlebags in hand. As soon as he saw Eden's position he frowned and dropped the bags. "Damn it, Sullivan."

"She's asleep," he said in a lowered voice. "Since she's exhausted, I think we should let her sleep as long as she wants."

Jed grumbled as he took the closest chair, his eyes on Eden the whole time. "She's my baby sister, the only truly good thing in my life. If anyone were to hurt her, I'd have to kill them. I wouldn't have any choice in the matter. It would be my duty as her brother."

"I understand," Sullivan said. He felt the same anxiety, the same urge to protect her. "The Merriweathers we can handle, once they show up, but this other..."

"Hellfire," Jed mumbled impatiently. "I wasn't talking about the Merriweathers or whoever's been writing those notes. I was talking about you."

* * *

Jed lit a cigar and stepped onto the boardwalk. The sun would be up in half an hour or so, and then maybe he'd go to bed. He didn't know if he could sleep or not, not with a bunch of bandits after Eden, and Sullivan sniffing after her like a mangy dog after a bitch in heat. He took a long draw on the cigar and thought of all the reasons he
shouldn't
kill Sullivan.

They'd ridden together on too many bad days. They'd laughed together too much and gotten pickled when they just couldn't stand to think any more. Sullivan had saved his life more than once, and Jed had returned the favor.

But this was Eden they were talking about. All bets were off.

"Jed?"

He recognized the voice right away and showed no surprise as Sylvia came closer. He'd heard her a while back, as she'd approached cautiously, but he'd also recognized the step as that of a woman. There had been no threat in her stealthy advance.

"Sylvia," he said, turning toward her and taking another drag of his cigar, "a little early for you to be up and about, isn't it?"

She looked no different, hadn't changed at all. Her hair was black and silky, her eyes dark—even though he couldn't see them well in the near-dark. Her figure, in a dark dress that cinched her waist and emphasized her bosom, was breathtaking.

"I was hoping I could catch you alone, for a few minutes," she whispered.

"Not exactly proper for a preacher's wife to be out hunting down her old lovers, is it?" He hadn't known he still felt so hurt until he heard the bitterness in his voice.

Sylvia moved so close he could smell her. The smell was familiar, so he took a long drag on the cigar and blew smoke toward her. She ignored the smoke and lifted her head to look up at him.

"I made a terrible mistake," she whispered. There was just enough light for him to see the sheen of tears in her eyes. "A terrible mistake. I never should've married Maurice." She reached out and laid a trembling hand on his arm. "And I miss you. I never knew how I would miss you until it was too late." She took a step forward and laid her head on his chest.

Jed sighed. Hellfire, he didn't need this! "Isn't he good to you, Sylvia?" He wondered if she wanted him to take her away from Rock Creek, if she was looking for a way to escape her husband.

"He tries." She sighed against his chest. "But... But he's not you." She slipped her arms around him and held on tight. "Don't you miss me at all?" she whispered.

He couldn't say he'd ever loved Sylvia, but they'd had a helluva good time, for a while. Did he miss her? Sometimes, he did. "Do you want me to take you away from here? Do you want to leave Rock Creek?"

"No," she breathed. "I just want you to be my lover again."

"You want to leave Clancy?"

She shook her head. "I can't leave Maurice, but that doesn't mean I don't want you back in my life." She lifted her head and came up on her toes to lay her lips against his neck. "Make love to me, Jed."

He wasn't what anyone would call an upstanding man, but he did draw the line at sleeping with another man's wife. "No, thanks."

She stiffened and stepped back. "No,
thanks
?"

He took her chin in his hand and made her look up at him. What he saw in her face was anger, pure and simple. "If you hadn't married Clancy I'd probably be in your bed right now. But you did, and I'm not, and that's that."

"Well, you're not interested in getting married," she snapped in a low voice. "All you wanted was sex. That's all I'm asking for now. It shouldn't make a bit of difference that I have a husband."

Jed shook his head. "Makes a difference to me."

"But he's not... very..." She sighed. "He's not like you, Jed."

He grinned and chucked her under the chin. "Nobody is, darlin'."

"You're going to punish me for marrying Maurice," she said incredulously.

"Nope. Looks to me like you've done a fine job of punishing yourself."

Sylvia pulled her shoulders back and stood tall. "I'll find another lover."

"I don't doubt it," Jed said lowly.

"You'll miss me."

He shook his head and diligently studied what was left of his cigar. "I don't doubt that, either."

Sylvia left as quietly as she'd come, if a good bit quicker, leaving Jed to stand on the boardwalk and ponder the fairer sex.

By the time the sun came up he wasn't fit company for any man or woman in Rock Creek.

Chapter 16

After two days without any threatening activity, her contingent of guards seemed to relax. Still, they were always close at hand and armed. Eden tried to go about her normal business, cleaning and fixing up the hotel, trying to make it a home for Millie and Teddy.

She'd already set aside a couple of rooms on the third floor. The two bedrooms were in a quiet corner and had a connecting door. For now, she slept in one room and the children slept in the other, but eventually she wanted to expand the suite to four rooms, all with connecting doors for privacy. Yes, four rooms should suffice. One for each of the children, one for her and Sin, and a sitting room for reading or studying or simply sitting by the fire.

She didn't tell Sin that one of the rooms would be theirs. He was still stubbornly insisting that Jedidiah was right, that their marriage wasn't real and binding.

Jedidiah and Nate were eating breakfast, and Rico, who had been up all night, slept. Sin was her guard at the moment, but he stood silently on the stairway between the second and third floors. Jedidiah had backed off a little, actually allowing her to be alone with her husband for brief periods of time. Since he wasn't a man given to surrender, she assumed he thought he no longer had anything to worry about. Perhaps he was right. Sin barely looked at her anymore.

She opened the door to the room that was now solely hers, intending to air it out on this fine autumn day. The room wasn't much better than the one she'd moved into on the day she'd arrived in Rock Creek, even though she'd already given it a good cleaning. It was sorely lacking in the warmth that would one day make this place a home. Well, it would take time to make this room homey.

Who was she kidding? It wouldn't feel like home until Sin moved in, until she'd slept with him in that big bed.

She saw the stalk on the bed, resting on her pillow, but for a moment she didn't realize what it was. Closer inspection revealed a dried and broken bouquet of weeds, all tied together with a red silk ribbon. Her first thought was that Millie had put together an arrangement, much as she'd done on their journey, but the blooms had died too quickly. When she saw the note, she knew she was wrong.

You think your guardians can keep you safe? Soon you'll be as dead as these flowers. They were once beautiful, too.

"Sin," she whispered, her voice so low he surely couldn't hear her.

And still, a moment later he was standing in the doorway, his Colt in one hand. "What's wrong?"

She turned her face to him and pointed to the note and dead bouquet on her bed. Tears filled her eyes, and without so much as a second's hesitation she walked into his arms. Once he decided there was no imminent danger, he sheathed his six-shooter in the holster he'd borrowed from Cash and wrapped his arms around her.

"It's all right," he said in a soothing voice as she buried her head against his chest.

"It's not all right," she whispered. "Someone wants me dead. And whoever it was walked into my room and left this... this
thing
for me. They were right
here
sometime in the past two hours, while I was in the kitchen or serving breakfast in the dining room or dusting in the lobby. This is my home, now, and it's just not right that someone would sneak in here and leave this awful note and those dead flowers."

Sin tried to disengage himself. "We need to tell the others."

Eden held on to him tight. "Not yet," she whispered. "Please don't let me go just yet. Give me just a minute here. Please," she said again. Being in his arms comforted her, made her heart begin to slow to a normal pace, made her fears gradually fade.

Sin's arms tightened around her, and she closed her eyes to get lost in his embrace. How could he say he didn't love her? How could he deny this?

"I won't let anyone hurt you," he whispered in her ear.

"I know."

"Only a coward would do this," he said angrily. "Damn it, when I find out who it is..."

He let the sentence die without telling her what he wanted to do to her tormentor. She knew, well enough, how angry and protective he was. He sheltered her. He only wanted what was best for her. She'd never doubted that.

No longer afraid, she lifted her head and stared up at Sin. "I wish you could tell me you love me as easily as you show it," she whispered.

His body went tense, but he didn't release her.

"I'm a selfish woman, I suppose. I want you," she whispered. "But I want all of you. Not a small piece, not a tiny fragment that you're willing to give away without granting your heart."

"I don't have what you want."

"Yes, you do." She lifted herself up on her toes and kissed him. Softly, tenderly. His whole body responded; she felt it. "You're everything I want, Sinclair Sullivan. Everything I will ever want."

"You don't know what you're saying. This is just... just..."

"Lust?" she finished for him. "Maybe that's part of it, but I know we have more than sheer physical attraction between us. What we have is extraordinary, and it's much more than physical, no matter how you fight accepting the truth.

"But the physical craving is a part of it." She boldly reached down and laid her hand over his arousal. "I won't deny that." She stroked him lightly. "I'm not so ignorant anymore. Not as innocent as I was a few days ago. I still dream about you, Sin, only now I know exactly what I'm dreaming about."

He kissed her hard and deep, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, catching her against his body and holding her there. Her body throbbed and so did his; it was a wondrous feeling.