by Linda Devlin
"You belong here, with me."
She smiled and nodded.
"I love you," he said softly.
"I love you, too," she whispered with a smile. "But you already know that, don't you?"
God, yes, he knew it. She'd told him. She'd shown him in a hundred ways. He kissed her again.
"I've been horn-swoggled," Jed said softly. "You two aren't on the outs at all!"
"No, we're not," Eden admitted as she took her mouth from his. "We're married. We love each other, and if you don't like it you can just...just... Well, you can learn to keep your opinions to yourself."
Sullivan helped Eden to her feet, holding on to her as if she might break if he let go. They were both still a little weak in the knees.
Jed all but sputtered. "I can't believe you fooled us all with that... What you did was treachery, pure and simple. All this time we thought..."
"Speak for yourself, Jed. You were the only one who was blind enough to be fooled," Cash said with a smile as he stepped away from the body of Jacob Merriweather. "Remember how you told me a few days ago that Eden was cleaning the tub? I almost busted a gut trying not to laugh."
"Why?" Jed asked with a frown.
"You see..." Cash began.
"Daniel!" Eden gasped. "Don't you dare."
Cash grinned. "Well, maybe there are some things a brother shouldn't hear about his little sister."
Nate and Rico joined them, telling Eden, when she asked, that the children had been told all was well, and they would remain in Rose Sutton's care until the bodies were removed from the street. She thanked them for being so thoughtful of the children's delicate sensibilities.
"I need to see Millie and Teddy," she said. "To give them a hug and tell them everything is fine. But I can't do that until I change out of this blouse." She wrinkled her nose and plucked at the bloodstained shoulder. "I don't want them to see me like this. It would just upset them, and I'm sure they're already distressed enough by this episode. Goodness, did you hear Teddy scream?"
Eden shuddered as Sullivan draped his arm over her shoulder, and together they turned about. She slipped her arm easily around his waist and leaned comfortably against him. The shaking stopped almost immediately.
Rico grinned widely as Sullivan led Eden toward the hotel. He muttered something in Spanish, and for once no one told him to translate, and Cash didn't bellow at him to speak English. Nate didn't seem to pay them much mind at all, but he did seem quite pleased with himself.
Jed lifted his arms in frustration. "Is there anyone here," he bellowed, "besides me, who was horn-swoggled into thinking these two were... that they didn't... that they hadn't..."
"Not me," Nate said. "I married them, remember? I knew it would last."
"I forgot you're the wise one among us," Jed said tersely.
Rico continued to grin. "If you would take your head out of the sand long enough to take a good look at the people around you, or perhaps to take a nice long smell..."
"I think I like the sand," Jed said, but there was surrender in his voice.
Sullivan and Eden walked toward the hotel and left the others quibbling. He couldn't hold her tight enough, couldn't touch her enough. When he thought of how close he'd come to losing her...
"Hold it right there!" Jed hollered as they reached the hotel doorway.
Together, he and Eden turned to face the furious man.
Jed shook a menacing finger. "I guess if she had to marry one of us, it might as well be you. It could've been worse," he said, glancing at the men around him. "She might've married Rico, or Nate, or"—he shuddered—"Daniel."
"Well, thank you, I think," Sullivan said.
"Is this your way of giving us your blessing?" Eden asked with a dimpled smile.
Jed Rourke actually blushed. "I reckon," he mumbled. He waved a dismissive hand. "You go change out of those clothes, and I'll go check on the kids. If you're all going to stay here, I need to... mend a few fences with my niece and nephew."
"We'll be there in a few minutes," Sullivan said as he turned Eden about and they walked away from Jed.
"I was so scared," she said as he led her up the stairs.
"Me, too." Truth was, he'd never been so scared in his life.
When they reached the second-story hallway, she stopped, took his hand, and laid it over her belly, just beneath her navel. He knew what was coming even before she said, "Mostly I was worried about him. Or her. Our baby."
His fingers brushed against her still-flat belly, where his child, their child, already grew. "I shouldn't be surprised."
"No," she said with a smile. "You certainly shouldn't."
A baby. He should be terrified. He should be concerned about the blood of his father and the blood of his mother running through another body, and how he and Eden were going to make it when they were so different and always would be, but at the moment he was oddly happy.
"Did I thank you?" she whispered, "for saving my life, that is?"
He shook his head. "I don't believe you did."
She came up on her toes and kissed him, her lips soft and yielding, the caress deep and undeniably loving. "Thank you, Sinclair Sullivan," she whispered as she reluctantly took her mouth from his. "What would I do without you?"
He brushed a strand of pale hair away from her face. "You'll never have to know."
"Good," she whispered, kissing him again, much too briefly. "I suppose I should thank Daniel, too, and Rico and Nate and Jedidiah, of course," she said softly. "They were all wonderful."
Sullivan arched his eyebrows slightly. "You can't thank them the way you thanked me," he insisted. "Make 'em soup."
"I do make very good soup," she said with a smile.
How had he survived this long without that smile?
"I meant what I said out there." He slipped his arms around his wife and lifted her off her feet. "I do love you."
She laughed lightly and tilted her head back. "I knew it before you did."
"Yes," he whispered as he gently spun her around. "Yes, you did."
Chapter 23
The Merriweathers had been disposed of less than a week earlier, and Sin was already packing his saddlebags. Eden tried to stay calm.
"How long will you be gone, do you think?" She sat on the edge of the bed and watched him pack.
"Not long," he said. "I have a few things to take care of. A few loose ends to tie up."
How many days was not long? Two? Ten? Thirty? "You're going to Webberville," she said softly.
Sin lifted his head and smiled at her. "Yep."
Eden had to bite her lip to keep from telling him, at least asking him, not to go. "It's that damn hat," she muttered. When Sin lifted surprised eyebrows at her unexpected curse, she muttered an even softer, "Sorry."
She'd told Daniel she would become the woman Sin needed, if that's what it took to keep him. Could she do it? If he needed to ride off on occasion, to one troubled place or another, could she stand it?
Yes.
"You know," she said more calmly, "I still want all of you, but I'd rather have a little piece of you than all of anyone else in the world. If you need to go, go. I'll be waiting for you when you get home."
He gave her a look that said he'd never doubted it, but there was nothing possessive or selfish about that look. It was warm and confident and told her all she needed to know. It told her he loved her.
"I'm going to rename the hotel," she said, changing the subject so she wouldn't cry. "Jedediah's going to help me paint a new sign to replace the old one."
"Does he know this yet?"
Eden shook her head. "No, but he won't mind."
"What are you going to name it?"
She looked deep into his eyes. "Paradise."
* * *
Paradise. He thought about the new name for Eden's hotel all the way to Webberville, a trip much quicker on his horse and alone than it had been in Eden's crowded wagon. Paradise.
What had Eden said? A long time ago, it see
med like, she'd said she'd rather live in the most desolate place on earth surrounded by people she loved than to live alone in paradise. She'd also supposed that the exact opposite was true of him. Maybe she was right, or at least had been then. Now... Hell, he missed her already. He missed the kids. He missed his own bed.
And he'd only been gone a few hours.
He camped out that night, slept on the hard ground. When he dreamed, he dreamed of Eden and the baby she carried. If it was a girl, he decided, he wanted to name her Fiona. The world needed a happy Fiona Sullivan again, he figured.
The next afternoon he arrived in Webberville. No one would take him by surprise this time, that was for goddamn sure. They weren't expecting him, so he had time to glance around as he stepped through the bat-wing doors. Almost immediately, he spotted the men who had ambushed him, his hat hanging behind the bar like a kind of trophy... and something else that drew his attention away from it all.
* * *
Eden looked up at the new sign, red paint on a white background standing out against the weathered boards of her hotel, Paradise.
"It looks good, Mama," Millie said, shielding her eyes with her small hand. "Very pretty."
"Yeah," Teddy said. "I like it."
The streets were crowded, but then it was Saturday afternoon and people from visiting ranches filled the streets and streamed from the businesses along Rock Creek's main thoroughfare. As soon as she hired one or two girls to help her, she might start opening the hotel restaurant for meals in the evening and on Saturday afternoons. There appeared to be lots of hungry people out there.
"Papa's coming," Teddy said softly, his eyes turned to the end of the street.
Eden turned to watch the black stallion making its way slowly down the street. Sin had been gone less than a week, and she'd missed him so much she hurt with it. How would she stand it when he left again?
She would, she reminded herself. She would do whatever she had to do.
Sin wore his accursed hat, the one he'd been compelled to go back to Webberville and fight for, and underneath that hat his long strands of hair were missing. She squinted against the sun to see more clearly, but it didn't help. He might've pulled his hair back, she supposed, but he'd never done that before.
He had another surprise in store for her. A child with pale brown hair peeked warily around Sin's side as he pulled up to the hotel. He helped the kid to his feet before dismounting and tossing the reins across a hitching post. He took the child's hand as he came to Eden with a smile.
"This is the lady I told you about," he said, "Eden Sullivan. Eden, this is Rafe. He's going to be staying with us."
Rafe looked terrified, as if he expected an argument. He held onto Sin's hand and stared up at her with big green eyes. The sun made his hair look like honey, and it was as fine as spun silk. He probably wasn't much older than Millie.
She gave him a smile. "Well, I'm glad to have you here, Rafe."
"You are?" he asked suspiciously.
"Of course," Eden said, her voice leaving no room for doubt.
Millie and Teddy had to vie for Sin's attention, Millie springing up until he caught her, Teddy standing close until Sin dropped to his haunches.
With Millie still in his arms, Sin looked Teddy in the eye, man-to-man. "You been keeping an eye on things around here, like I asked you to?"
Teddy nodded. "Yes, Papa." His eyes got wide. "Uncle Jed is teaching me to shoot a rifle," he added with unconcealed excitement.
Jedidiah and Teddy had spent a lot of time together in the past few days. Teddy didn't glare at his new uncle anymore, and had even confided to Eden once that not all uncles were bad.
"He is?" Sin asked.
"Yep. I have to be able to defend my sister with something other than the pointy toe of my boots. That's what Uncle Jed says. He said I'm a natural marksman." And then something wonderful happened; Teddy smiled. "I'm glad you're home."
Sin ruffled the hair on Teddy's head, not making a big deal out of the smile, and he offered his cheek when Millie leaned forward to kiss him again.
Eden had to do something, otherwise she was sure to cry, right there in the middle of the street. "Teddy, why don't you take Rafe upstairs and show him where he'll be staying. In the room with you two, for now. In a few minutes I'll fix our travelers something to eat. Do you like custard pie, Rafe?"
"I don't know, ma'am," he said softly. "I never had any custard pie."
"That is an injustice that will soon be remedied."
Sin rose slowly to his feet and readjusted the hat on his head. The three children headed into the hotel, leaving Eden to stare up into his face. She'd worried incessantly for days, but in the shadow of the hat she could see no bruises, no cuts. He looked perfect, in fact.
"Got my hat back," he said sheepishly. "And my rig." He jangled the well-worn holster and plain six-shooter that hung low on his hips.
"And I suppose the fine men of Webberville just handed them over without a fuss," she said.
"No, ma'am. I had to kick some ass to get my hat back."
She put a finger on his jaw and turned his head this way and that. "Looks like they didn't touch you."
"Not this time." His smile faded. "That's where I found Rafe. His mother used to work upstairs, but she died a while back. The kid was sweeping the floor when I got there, cleaning up after a bunch of drunks."
"That's terrible," she whispered.
Sin opened his mouth, closed it again, shifted uneasily on his booted feet. "Hell, Eden, I couldn't just leave him there."
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Of course you couldn't."
He gave her a belated kiss hello, in spite of the fact that people passed all around. Neither of them cared. When she pulled away, Eden reached up and grabbed his hat.
"Let me get a good look at this hat that's worth so much trouble."
She didn't look at the hat after it left Sin's head. He'd cut his hair. Short. A barber somewhere between Rock Creek and Webberville had given him a crisp, neat, very ordinary haircut. She reached up to touch the strands above his ear.
"You cut your hair," she whispered.
"Do you mind?"
She shook her head. "It's very handsome, but..."
"I don't need it anymore," he interrupted. "On the way into Webberville it kept blowing in my face, and getting tangled against my neck, and I wondered why the hell I'd kept it long all these years."
Eden raised her eyebrows skeptically.
"Besides," he said, "the haircut goes with the job."
Oh, he was going to leave again! She took a deep breath to calm herself. She would be the wife he needed, even if she didn't always like what that entailed. "What job?"
He pulled a telegram from his pocket. "You are looking at the new sheriff of this fine county. The governor's appointed me to the office until we hold a special election and make it official."
"Sheriff Sullivan," she said with a smile. He wasn't going to leave her, after all. He wasn't going to come and go like a nomad. He was going to stay.
He leaned down, placing his handsome face close to hers. "Did you really think I could ride away from you and be content?"
"I did wonder..."
"Well, stop your wondering, Mrs. Sullivan. I'm home to stay."
Sin put his arm around her shoulder and they walked toward the hotel entrance. He glanced up once and studied the new sign.
"Paradise," he muttered as they stepped into the shade of the boardwalk. "You got that right."
The End
Page forward for an excerpt from
Rico
Book 3 of the Rock Creek Six
Excerpt from
Rico
The Rock Creek Six
Book 3
by
Lori Handeland
Chapter 1
"Your job, Betty, is to sing. Singing pays for this room, your food, those brightly colored silks you wear. So get your exquisite, expensive rear end downstairs before I kic
k you out on the street where you belong."
Betty Lillian lifted the hot, damp cloth from her aching forehead and opened one eye to glare at her employer, Randolph Ward. The volume of his voice did nothing for the pounding in her head. "I'm ill, RW. Everyone becomes ill now and again."
He stepped closer to her bed, one he often shared by virtue of his position and hers. One of these days, Betty was going to be in charge of her own bed, her own future, her own life. R.W. had promised her the world then given her nothing but New Orleans.
"No blood," R.W. concluded after studying her like a bug on a pin. He put a beringed finger against her cheek. "No fever. Get your butt onstage. It's carnival; the crowd is thick. Once the men get an eyeful of you—that face, such hair, the body—then an earful of your voice, no one will be able to stop themselves from throwing their money into my coffers when you deal poker."
"I might manage to sing, but I doubt I'd make it through an entire night dealing cards, as well."
"You'll do what I say, Betty. Have you forgotten who took you in and made you what you are? Have you forgotten that without me you'd still be singing on that street corner in Baton Rouge, near starved and worse?"
Some days Betty wondered what could be worse than this, but most nights she still dreamed of her time alone in the dark—belly screaming, heart aching, wolves, albeit human, circling.
"I don't know how I could forget, since you remind me every day."
"Excellent." His smile was as warm as his heart. A handsome man, with a trim golden beard that matched his close-cropped hair, R.W. had sky blue eyes, which should have been kind but weren't. He had little in the way of personality unless you counted avarice and selfishness among the traits of a worthy disposition. "I'll see you downstairs in ten minutes."
He left without another glance, slamming the door behind him. R.W. knew Betty would comply. What choice did she have? What choice had she ever had?
Betty dragged herself from the bed. She did have a headache, but not as bad as she made out. Once in a while her life, this place, R.W., became more than she could bear.