Sullivan (5 page)

"I believe the swelling is already going down. Does it still hurt?"

"No," he said through clenched teeth.

She smiled. He was such a terrible liar! A breeze, cool enough to remind Eden that autumn had arrived, washed over them. The wind ruffled Sinclair Sullivan's long hair and brought goose bumps to Eden's arms. "Are you cold?" she whispered.

"No."

"Well, I am." She brought the thin blanket to her chin and edged closer to Sullivan. His body heat warmed her. His length buffered the wind. Edging a little bit closer still, she felt oddly comforted by his closeness.

Sullivan was a stranger, more or less, and yet she knew without a doubt that she could trust him with her life. It was more than the fact that he was Jedidiah's friend. She looked into his eyes and felt nothing but goodness and warmth, and she always trusted her instincts.

"I'm going to sleep a little while, Sinclair," she said. "Wake me if you hear anything suspicious."

As she drifted off to sleep she could've sworn she heard him mutter, "Jed's
sister
."

* * *

Even if he hadn't been waiting for the Merriweathers to make their move, he wouldn't have gotten any sleep. He'd never given the matter much thought, but in all his twenty-nine years he hadn't actually slept with a woman before. He'd screwed plenty, prostitutes and loose women who thought it might be fun to hook up with a half-breed for a night or two, but he'd never
slept
with one.

Eden Rourke continued to edge closer and closer through the night, as she slept, until she finally ended up with her nose buried in his chest. One small foot slipped between his calves and settled there for the duration, and one dainty hand rested on his side.

Once again he had the sneaking suspicion that Eden was not who she claimed to be. She was much too trusting to be any relation to Jedidiah Rourke.

Sullivan shifted slightly, but his movements didn't disturb the woman who slept against him. He cursed beneath his breath, but she didn't move.

Damn it, this woman made him as nervous as the Merriweathers. Eden Rourke was clearly a lady through and through, and
ladies
usually didn't waste much time on a half-breed who carried a gun and dared anyone to get in his way. They turned away; they crossed the street; they pretended they didn't see him. How many times in his foolish youth had he looked at a woman and noticed the frightened shift of her eyes, the way she lowered her gaze and turned away? Often enough that he didn't bother even looking anymore.

But this one didn't cast down her eyes, did she? She looked her fill and flashed heartfelt smiles as if... as if he was just a man and she was just a woman.

It was near dawn when the Merriweathers made their move. He heard them first, then saw them in the gray light as they crept upon the camp. Revolvers in hand, they headed slowly and cautiously for the place where Sullivan waited and Eden slept.

The rifle was behind him, the six-shooter close at hand.

"Wake up," he whispered in Eden's ear. "They're coming."

She stirred, but she didn't open her eyes.

"Miss Rourke," he whispered again. "Eden."

She smiled and opened her eyes slowly, setting them on him in a way that was warm and trusting and sweet. When she was fully awake and realized exactly where she had slept, that her foot was wedged between his legs and her arm was around his waist, her smile faded and she slowly, carefully, scooted a few inches away from him. Even though it was dark, he was sure he could see her blush. He hated to ruin the moment with the news.

"They're coming."

She nodded once. Her soft body went rigid, but there were no tears, no sign of panic that he could see.

Without words, he told her to stay put. He rolled over, into the dark shadow of a copse of trees, and eased up with the six-shooter in his hand. He headed around the perimeter of the campground, staying in shadow, hoping to take the brothers by surprise. Eden didn't move.

Moving soundlessly, quickly, and with ghostlike grace was his gift. That was the reason he'd been the scout with Reese's elite Confederate unit in the war. He could sneak up on a man eating his supper, take his knife and spoon, and be gone before the man knew what had happened. The others assumed it was his Comanche blood that gifted him with the ability, but he knew better. A lifetime of trying to be invisible had the same result.

The brothers had spread out and approached from three directions in the faint light of dawn. They kept their eyes on the dark lump that had been Sullivan's bed as they sneaked forward. Eden didn't move or make a sound. If he didn't know better, even he would think she was still asleep.

Sullivan approached one brother, staying in the darkness of the trees, making not a single noise, not a whisper or a scrape or an audible breath, until he could almost smell his adversary, until he could reach out and touch the man who crept toward Eden. He made his move quickly and silently, surprising the tall, thin Will, disarming him, and knocking him to the ground with such force that the man lay very still in the dirt as he tried to catch his breath. There was no more need to be silent as the other brothers turned, startled, in his direction. Surprised, they twitched and raised their weapons.

"I don't think so." Eden's soft but firm voice startled them all, and the three armed men turned in her direction.

She had come to her feet and held the rifle as though she knew exactly what she was doing. Steady and calm, she aimed at Curtis Merriweather. When she dropped the lever and brought it back up swiftly, the sound echoed like thunder in the silent morning. Well, that did it. He no longer doubted that Eden was Jed's sister.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Mr. Merriweather." She sighed. "What on earth must your mother think, that all three of her sons have fallen into a life of crime, bless her heart?" She sounded, to Sullivan's ears, as if she were truly distressed.

"She won't shoot," Curtis said, taking a step toward Eden.

Without warning, she did. The dust at Curtis's feet danced and swirled as he came to an abrupt stop. The crack of the rifle split the quiet air. She cocked the lever again.

The man on the ground stirred, sitting up slowly. Maybe Eden did know what she was doing with that rifle, but they were still outnumbered. Three-to-two odds weren't bad, but damn it, he didn't know exactly what to expect from Eden Rourke next. Curtis shook his head in what appeared to be reluctant appreciation. "Good-lookin' and handy with a rifle to boot. What's a woman like you doing married to a goddamn half-breed?"

Eden's lips pursed and she squinted slightly, as if taking aim. "Watch your language, Mr. Merriweather."

He ignored her. "Ain't it enough that the Injun dresses like a white man and tries to pass himself off as a
Sullivan
without going and marrying one of the rare pretty white women we got in these parts?" His grip on the six-shooter changed, tightened; his entire body tensed as he got ready to fire. The six-shooter snapped around quickly.

Eden didn't respond but to shoot again, and Curtis Merriweather's revolver flew out of his hand. He squealed and grasped his fingers; he tried to take a breath and squealed again.

Two reluctant heads appeared from the back of the wagon, rising slowly to peek over the side. "Good morning," Eden said, her voice shaking slightly. "Teddy, would you be so kind as to collect the Merriweathers' horses and hitch them to the back of the wagon?"

The boy moved without question to do as he was asked.

"We'll take your horses to the next town and leave them there," Eden said, "along with a message for the local law officials." She had begun to shake, just a little. The reaction was so subtle, Sullivan wondered if any of the three bandits noticed. If they did, if they sensed a weakness in her now...

George Merriweather looked at his brother Will, who still sat on the ground, and at his other brother Curtis who grasped his fingers and cried in pain. Sullivan saw the desperation, the panic, in George's eyes. Men did stupid things when they were cornered, and this one was about to do something incredibly stupid. He knew it in his gut.

The one remaining armed Merriweather popped his weapon up, taking aim at Eden. Without a single second thought or a moment's hesitation, Sullivan fired. One shot to the heart. George fell to the ground without getting a chance to fire a single shot.

Eden's eyes widened and her shaking got worse. Sullivan cursed beneath his breath. Had she thought it would be so easy? That she could threaten these men and chastise them and then ride away without seeing anyone die? Hellfire, she did not belong here.

Something in her changed dramatically. Something in her weakened. Her confidence dissolved. She'd been so self-assured facing the Merriweather brothers, insisting that they back down. Right now she looked like she might faint at any moment—just like a woman.

Sullivan dismissed his fleeting concern for a woman who shouldn't even be there. Using a length of their own rope, he bound the remaining two brothers, if they were indeed related at all, together and to a tree. He hitched up Eden's horses to the wagon, and checked to see that Teddy had done a good job of securing the bandits' mounts with his own stallion. He had.

He loaded them all, Eden and Teddy and Millie, into the wagon and left the two bandits pleading for mercy. Damn it, he didn't like the look that crept over Eden's face, as if she was finally truly scared, as if the encounter had drained the life out of her.

"What will happen to them?" she asked without looking back.

"We'll stop in the next town and send the sheriff back for them, like you said."

She nodded as if she agreed that was an acceptable plan. They were a good ways down the road before she spoke again.

"I've never seen a man killed before." Her voice was low, soft as the wind. "I'd never even seen a man shot, until I shot Curtis Merriweather's hand." She looked at him then. He didn't look back, but watched her from the corner of his eye. "Jedidiah put a rifle in my hands as soon as I was old enough to hold one. He'd take me out and we'd shoot at targets. Bottles and cans, mostly. Mother would never let me go hunting with him; she said it wasn't a ladylike pastime. But Jedidiah convinced her that I should know how to defend myself, so even after he was gone I practiced several times a week. I promised him, before he left for the war..."

She shuddered. "What happened this morning was nothing at all like shooting at a target that doesn't shoot back, that doesn't... bleed. It all happened so fast, before I even had a chance to
think
, and now a man is dead and another one is injured. It was so... so horribly violent. And so quick," she added in a lowered voice as she shuddered again. "It happened so fast. I hope I never see anything like that again as long as I live."

Sullivan kept his eyes on the road ahead and his mouth shut. He didn't think now was the time to tell Eden that he'd seen so many men die violently he could no longer remember the number.

Chapter 3

Ranburne was an even smaller town than Webberville, but it did have a decent general store and a sober sheriff. As it was the closest town to Rock Creek, Sullivan had met Sheriff Tilton before and trusted him. He told Tilton where he could find what was left of the Merriweathers, handed over their horses, and learned some disturbing information about the brothers.

Tilton knew better than to ask a single question about Sullivan's battered face.

While Sullivan was with the sheriff, Eden went to the general store to buy a few more supplies. Walking in that direction to join her, he considered sending her on her way and heading back to Webberville to reclaim his Colt and the hat he'd left hanging on the hat tree near the swinging saloon doors. A knot of anger twisted in his gut. He liked that hat. It fit just right and was well broken in. Besides, he felt he owed a few residents of Webberville a rematch. If they hadn't caught him off guard, if they hadn't sucker punched him...

But he couldn't go back, not now. As soon as the name "Rourke" had left Eden's mouth, he'd known he was stuck with her and those kids until they reached their destination. Jed was one of the few men in the world he called his friend, and he couldn't abandon the man's sister to travel alone. She was a fool woman for attempting it in the first place, but he couldn't change the fact that she was here. All he could do was make sure that Eden and the kids reached Rock Creek safely. After that, they were Jed's problem, and he could see about getting to Webberville to reclaim his hat.

Teddy stood, solemn and silent, on the boardwalk outside the general store. The kid lifted his eyes and peeked through strands of straight, dark hair that hung too long about his face. He waited, nervous and so anxious he seemed not to breathe at all. Sullivan forgot all about his hat.

The boy was afraid of something, of everything. The fear was in his eyes, in the way he flinched when anyone besides Eden got too near him. Eden, in her own little world, didn't always notice. Sullivan not only noticed, he remembered what it was like to live that way, always afraid, constantly waiting for the next backhand. Or worse.