“I'll be damned,” Oak said, slumping back into his desk chair. “I'll be damned.”
“I still don't understand your point,” Cyrus said. “What has all this got to do with getting my wife back?”
“What I'm saying is that somebody has been playing you ranchers and nesters against one another like a fiddle and getting away with it. Maybe if you got together, you could talk out some of your differences. Once you aren't at each other's throats your wives will have the peace they want. And you'll have your wives back.”
“That still leaves us with rustled cattle,” Oak pointed out.
“You probably won't get back what you've lost,” Kerrigan said. “Chances are the cattle have been sold and the money spent. But if any cash is still around, if it can be recovered, I'll get it back for you. That's what you hired me to do. As for getting the nesters to take down those fences around the water holes, seems to me that could be negotiated between you and them. After all, until nine months ago everything was working out all right.”
“Does this mean you aren't going to seduce Miss Devlin?” Cyrus asked.
Kerrigan was upset that the subject had come up again, but managed to answer in an even voice, “If your negotiations with the nesters turn out successfully, it won't be necessary.”
“How soon do you think you can set up a meeting?” Oak asked.
“To tell you the truth, I've already spoken to Big Ben Davis. How does a week from today sound?”
“Sheeeit!” Cyrus shouted. “That sounds just fine!”
Miss Devlin could hardly believe what her pupils had told her Monday morning. The Association's hired gunslinger had arranged a meeting between all their fathers to be held at the town meetinghouse. It was exactly what Miss Devlin had hoped for—a chance for a peaceful solution to the trouble in Sweetwater. But she wanted a little more insurance that the meeting wouldn't turn into a brawl than Kerrigan's claim that he would keep the peace.
She had sent each pupil homea note suggesting that the wives of the ranchers and nesters accompany their husbands to the meeting, and if the negotiations were successful, that they celebrate with a party and dance. That way the meeting would provide an opportunity for reconciliations not only between ranchers and nesters, but between husbands and wives.
Eden expected Kerrigan to object to her initiative, so she wasn't surprised by the knock on her front door. But it was Sheriff Reeves who stood there with a light dusting of snowflakes on his hat and coat, waiting to be invited inside.
Miss Devlin smiled a welcome. “Hello, Felton. Please come in. Have you heard the good news?”
As she helped him off with his coat he said, “I heard there's going to be a big town meeting next week. But whether it'll be the answer to everyone's prayers—I have my doubts.”
“Don't be such a pessimist,” Miss Devlin admonished, then instructed, “That's a person who always looks at the dark side of—”
“I didn't come here for a school lesson, Miss Devlin.”
“Of course not. Well, I have every confidence that the meeting will—”
“That ain't—isn't—why I come—came,” Felton said, running a finger around the buttoned neck of his striped shirt, which had gotten tight all of a sudden.
“Oh.” Miss Devlin settled herself on the sofa beside the sheriff.
Felton nervously shifted away from her, putting as much distance as possible between them. “Miss Devlin . . .”
Eden examined Felton's agonized expression. “Whatever it is, Felton, it can't be that bad, can it?” she asked with a whimsical smile.
His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his reservations. He thrust a ring box in her lap and said, “Miss Devlin, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Miss Devlin stared at the ring box with eyes that soon glazed over. Here in her lap was a wish come true. She should have been overjoyed. So why did she feel sick instead?
You have to tell him about Kerrigan.
Eden had forbidden herself to think about what else she was giving up when she offered her virtue to the gunslinger, because she had never expected it to matter. She had never really expected to get this proposal. Now that she had it, Eden wasn't entirely sure she wanted it. Which was a good thing, because she couldn't accept Felton's proposal without confessing that he wasn't getting the prim and proper spinster lady he had been led to expect.
Tell him about Kerrigan.
It occurred to her that she should at least pick box and look inside. When she opened it, she saw a tiny diamond in an elaborate, ostentatious gold setting. “Why, it's . . .” She forced herself to finish, “. . . lovely, Felton. Thank you.”
She glanced up at him, and there was such a miserable look on his face that she was taken aback. If he wasn't happy about marrying her, why had he asked? Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out. “Why do you want to marry me, Felton?”
“Why?” His wide blue eyes filled with panic before his gaze shifted away. He had been thinking a lot about what Darcie had said, and it worried him how close he had come to changing his mind about marrying Miss Devlin. He had decided the best thing to do was to get himself committed, and that way he couldn't back out. Here he was, giving her a ring and having a devil of a time explaining why he wanted to marry her.
“I want to marry you because I think you'll make a good wife, Miss Devlin, and a good mother for my children,” he said at last. Of course he had said good, but he meant respectable. Which Darcie wasn't. Which was why he was marrying Miss Devlin instead of the woman he loved.
Eden was afraid to ask Felton whether he loved her, because she was afraid he would admit he didn't. What if he asked her if she loved him? What right did she have to judge his motives for marriage, when hers weren't so lily white. “And I'm sure you'll make a good husband, Felton,” she murmured, returning the compliment. “And a good father.”
“Does that mean you're saying yes?”
His eyes were bleak but determined, and she couldn't look at them without feeling distraught. Even if Kerrigan finally offered marriage, it would be a mistake to accept him. He was like Sundance, the kind of man people called in when they needed help and then couldn't wait to see the back of when their killing had been done for them. She could never be happy living like that again.
Eden stiffened. Until this moment, when she had to make a choice, she had been able to hide from the awful truth. Now it reached out to grab her with a force that left her reeling.
I love Burke Kerrigan.
She loved a man just like her father. Deeply. With her whole heart and soul. Loved him so much that if anything ever happened to him, it would destroy her. The way Sundance's death had destroyed her mother. She simply could not afford to repeat her mother's mistake.
Eden stared at Felton's ring in its red velvet setting. She would never experience the ecstasy of loving with Felton. But she would never experience the agony of losing him, either. And if she was determined not to marry Kerrigan, this was her chance to have the things she had always wanted: a stable home and a husband and children. Eden couldn't throw that chance away just because she didn't like the looks of the ring her future husband had chosen . . . or the expression in his eyes when he had proposed . . . or because she was no longer coming to him untouche
Tell him about Kerrigan.
Felton hadn't said he was marrying her because she was virtuous. He had merely said she would make a good wife and mother. She would be the most loyal and steadfast wife and devoted mother any man could have.
Tell him about Kerrigan.
“You know, Kerrigan and I—”
“Kerrigan won't ask you to marry him,” Felton said in a harsh voice. “He ain't the marrying kind.”
“But he and I—”
“I don't care what you've been to Kerrigan in the past, so long as once you put that ring on your finger you know you're mine.”
Tell him about Kerrigan.
But Felton had already said he didn't care. Who could blame her if she chose to believe him?
Miss Devlin took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I guess this means we're engaged. Would you like to put the ring on my finger?”
“Sure,” he said, his Adam's apple bobbing again.
She held out her hand and after fumbling a little, he slid the ring on her finger. It fit. It didn't look quite so bad once it was on. It took up most of the space on her ring finger below her knuckle, leaving barely enough room for a wedding band.
“You've made me a very happy man,” Felton said. But his eyes said differently.
“And you've made me a happy woman,” Miss Devlin replied, her gaze equally solemn. She had purposely left out the very in front of the happy. There were limits to how much lying she thought she ought to do under the circumstances. “Maybe we should have some kind of party to celebrate,” she suggested, “and invite our friends.”
“Yeah, sure,” Felton agreed. Except Felton's best friend was Darcie Morton, and he didn't hardly think he could, or should, invite her to his engagement party. “On the other hand, maybe we could wait and announce our engagement at that party the town's having at the end of the week,” Felton said. “That way everybody would already be there.”
“Why, that's a wonderful idea!” Once her engagement was public, Miss Devlin wouldn't be having all these doubts and second thoughts. Once it was public, she wouldn't be able to back out.
They both sat for a while, neither saying anything, while a pall settled over them.
Felton wanted to scream, Forget the whole damn thing! but just as he opened his mouth Thank you again for the ring, Felton.”
Miss Devlin knew she ought to oooh and ahhh over the ring a little more, but as long as she was drawing these squiggly lines of honesty, she didn't want to step over them any more than necessary.
She leaned forward, expecting Felton's kiss to seal their engagement. Instead she received a hard, punishing attack on her mouth; there was nothing tender or loving about it. When he was done, she had a lump in her throat and her eyes burned with unshed tears. What they had shared hadn't been a kiss of joy, or reverence, or even passion. It had been an act of tumult, of vehemence, of violence. “What's wrong, Felton?”
Felton jumped, certain Miss Devlin had read the confused state of his mind. He couldn't say the same things to her that he could say to Darcie. And he certainly couldn't confide his stark fear that this engagement was a terrible mistake. So he said, “I'm a little worried, that's all, what with such an important town meeting coming up next week. I guess I'll be saying good night. It's been a long day. Be seeing you.”
Felton was already at the door by the time he finished talking. He let Miss Devlin help him into his coat. His gut tightened when she flinched away from him as he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. Everything would be all right once they were married. He wouldn't feel like kicking something anymore, and this sick feeling would go away.
When Felton was gone, Miss Devlin held her hand out and perused the engagement ring on her finger. She should feel enraptured. A handsome, eligible man had proposed to her. Soon she was going to be a married woman. Why did she feel positively ill?
Well, she had plenty of remedies for an upset stomach. She walked over to the china cabinet and took a silver spoon from the top drawer. She marched into her bedroom and filled the spoon from the bottle of Tasteless Castor Oil. Closing her eyes and opening her mouth wide, she swallowed the stuff down. Her face screwed up so tight, her eyes and lips practically disappeared.
When she could talk again, she said, “Whoever said that was tasteless just plain lied!” To make matters worse, she now felt absolutely nauseous.
Miss Devlin stripped off her clothes and slipped under the bedcovers. She didn't bother with a lamp. She wouldn't be needing any light because she couldn't bear to stay up and read. All she wanted to do was sleep until tomorrow morning. Maybe she would feel a little better about being an engaged woman in the bright light of day.
Kerrigan was troubled when he arrived on Miss Devlin's doorstep in the early evening and found her house dark. In the days since he had come to stay with her, he had gotten used to her habit of reading far into the night, with her legs tucked under her and her spectacles perched on the end of her nose. He knocked on the front door, but when no one answered he opened it and walked in. “Eden? Are you here?”
No answer.
H himself into the bedroom. He found her lying curled up with her hands under her head, minus her spectacles, like Sleeping Beauty waiting for the prince to awaken her with a kiss. Thanks to his Grandma Haley, Kerrigan knew all the romantic fairy tales by heart. He leaned across Eden with a hand on either side of her head, whispered, “Wake now, my lovely princess,” and kissed her softly on the lips.
She must have been dreaming of him because she began to kiss him back. Her lips were yielding and responsive and Kerrigan lifted her into his arms so he could bask in her warmth.
His fingertips brushed tendrils of hair away from her face as he gifted her with kisses at her temple, and on her eyelids and across her freckled nose. “You are so beautiful, Eden,” he whispered. “Like an unspoiled garden of beautiful flowers, budding and blossoming in my arms.”
Still half asleep, Eden thought she was dreaming his words, they were so much what she had always hoped someday to hear from the man she loved. She smiled lazily up at Kerrigan's shadowed profile and threaded her fingers through his hair. His day's growth of beard felt wonderfully rough against her cheek as he nuzzled her neck.
She giggled as his tongue tickled her ear and hunched her shoulder to keep him away. “What are you doing?”
His dark eyes twinkled with mischief. “Relax. If you don't like it I'll stop.”
Eden leaned back into the supportive curl of his arm, and allowed Kerrigan to have his way with her.
He mouthed delightful kisses along the underside of her chin and along her neck on his way to her ear. He took her earlobe in his teeth and bit just until she could feel pain, and then his lips and tongue were there to soothe, sending frissons of excitement dancing along her skin.
“Feel good?” he whispered.
She gasped as his moist breath fanned her ear. “It feels wonderful,” she said. “It's my turn now.”
His lids were lowered and his dark eyes revealed a threatening passion barely held in restraint. “Not yet,” he said.
His mouth claimed hers, or at least tried, because Eden fought him for the right to give the most pleasure, to bite and tease and taste the most. With a heartfelt sigh of surrender, he let her win. It was the first duel Kerrigan had lost since the war, but he was fully, and cheerfully, prepared to suffer the consequences.
“Your turn,” he said, when his mouth was free to speak.
She laughed, and placed her hand on the bulging front of his Levi's.
“Whoa, there, lady!” He caught her hand and held it against his hardness. And felt the ring.
Eden froze, horrified, when she felt him outlining the ring with his fingers. “What am I doing? What have I done?” She tried to jerk herself out of Kerrigan's embrace, but he had hold of her hand and the harder she struggled to free herself, the tighter his grasp became. “You're hurting me!”
“Tell me about the ring, Eden,” he demanded in a harsh voice.
She stopped fighting him and took several deep, calming breaths. “Let me go first.”
He held out her hand so the betraying diamond glittered in the moonlight. “Tell me about the ring.”
It was obvious he wasn't going to move an inch before she told him what he w
anted to know. “Felton gave it to me.”
“What for?”
“It's an engagement ring.”
“You got engaged to Felton Reeves? When?”
“Don't yell. Tonight.”
“I'm not yelling,” he yelled.
“Can I have my hand back now?”
He dropped her hand as if it were a hot coal. As soon as she was free, she sought out a lantern, breaking several matches before she finally got it lit. She sat down at the head of the bed and balled her knees up and held them tight with her laced hands.
Kerrigan jumped up and began pacing back and forth across her bedroom like a caged animal. “I don't understand you. You can't even have a conversation with Felton Reeves without correcting his grammar!”
Sweetwater Seduction Page 28