Cash (The Rock Creek Six Book 6)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “Charm is cheap, and I don’t think talking a thirteen-year-old boy out of something he wants to do is anything like selling penny candy to a farmer.”

  “But you can do it,” she assured him.

  He didn’t release her. Not yet. “If I agree, you have to promise to do anything I say.”

  Her smile faded. “Yes.”

  “Your first instruction is that you tell no one that I used to sweep out Brubaker’s general store and sleep on a pallet by the potato bin.”

  Her eyes danced. “Everyone in Marianna knows.”

  “Well, no one in Rock Creek has a clue, and I’d like to keep it that way. I have a reputation to maintain.”

  He peeled his fingers away from Nadine’s arm and she rose slowly, almost as if she were drunk. “I wouldn’t dream of staining your spotless reputation. I will do my best to make sure everyone here thinks you were born with those six-shooters on your hips and that killer gleam in your eye.” The sarcasm was unmistakable.

  “It would be best if they don’t know about us, either.”

  She stared at him boldly, braver now that she had his word he’d do as she asked. “What’s to know?”

  “Not a damn thing.”

  * * *

  Nadine wanted to think the worst was over, but she knew better. The initial meeting with Danny... Cash, as he insisted upon... had been difficult, and she imagined the days to come wouldn’t be any easier. Of course he had changed, everyone had changed. But she didn’t like what the only man she had ever loved had become.

  “What did he say?” JD asked brightly as she opened the door to their hotel room. She was a little surprised he had stayed put, as she’d ordered him to. Her threat of hauling him along the Rock Creek street by the ear while his idol, the gunman Daniel Cash, watched was enough to keep him in line. For now.

  “I think he’s agreeable. He’ll meet with you tomorrow morning.”

  “Tomorrow?” JD placed his hands on narrow hips, striking a pose of youthful indignation. “We came all this way—”

  “Patience,” Nadine interrupted as she dropped her hat onto a table by the window. “He said patience was to be your first lesson.”

  JD grinned widely. Heavens, there were moments when her son looked so much like his father, he grabbed her heart and wouldn’t let go. He had her green eyes, but that smile reminded her of better days, when the young man she’d adored had let her call him Danny. When he’d smiled without a scornful edge. JD’s dark brown hair fell the way Cash’s black hair had when he’d been a boy, windblown and untamed, framing his beautiful face. More than that, there were moments when JD moved like the boy she remembered. JD was comfortable with himself, even at this age when he was all arms and legs. He was limber, lithe and strong. So much like his father.

  If JD followed in Cash’s footsteps, what would she do? Seeing what Cash had done with his life hurt her more acutely than she cared to admit. If JD took the same route, she would die. She would literally die.

  “If patience is the first lesson, there has to be a second one, right?”

  “I think you have to pass the first lesson before you move on.”

  “I can wait until tomorrow morning,” JD said brightly. “No problem.” He picked up his six-shooter from the bedside table and began to twirl it in his hand. Smoothly, easily, so effortlessly her heart clenched.

  “Put that down,” she insisted softly.

  “I have to practice,” he insisted.

  “You put it down or I go to Cash right now and beg him not to so much as meet with you.”

  He knew she wasn’t bluffing, so with a scowl on his face he did as she asked.

  This was her fault. She had no one else to blame. Allowing JD to learn how to shoot hadn’t struck her as a bad idea at the time. When he’d turned out to be such a natural, it had seemed only fair to allow him to compete in local marksmanship competitions. A man should know how to defend himself and his family, and there had been a time when she’d been so proud of him for finding such a talent.

  But then he’d discovered the stories about Daniel Cash and become fascinated. He’d decided his life’s work would be to hire out his gun, to make a name for himself the way Cash had. And the nightmares had begun. The very idea of JD taking a life or having his own taken away was a fear more intense than she’d imagined possible.

  “We’ll get cleaned up and have supper, then tonight we’ll get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.”

  “I won’t sleep a wink tonight,” JD said.

  Neither will I.

  * * *

  The crowd was small that night, which suited Cash just fine. He was in no mood for company. His customers recognized his foul disposition and steered clear of him as he sat at his usual table, in his usual chair, sipping at a glass of whiskey.

  Evan Hopkins, the aging bartender who didn’t take any guff from anyone and didn’t allow anybody to sing in Rogue’s Palace, served up drinks and kept the polished bar clean. A smart man, he also kept the small crowd away from Cash’s corner.

  Cash allowed the noise around him to fade, a dangerous and unusual reaction to the day’s events. He had too many things to think about, and he didn’t much like where his mind was taking him. Memories he’d thought gone rose to the surface. He had the oddest compulsion to head down to the hotel and walk into Nadine’s room and just look at her. At her and their son. He wanted to stand at the foot of the bed in awe at how beautiful and fine she was, at how much time had gone by... at the fact that she had given him a son.

  Cash shuddered and took a long sip. The very idea of having a child terrified him.

  It was late when Jed burst through the bat-wing doors. His eyes landed on Cash, and he smiled as if nothing had changed. The big man was unarmed, a foolish mistake in Cash’s estimation. Being happily married apparently robbed a man of a good portion of his common sense. Armed or not, though, Jed Rourke was an intimidating man.

  “Just the man I wanted to see,” Jed drawled.

  “What do you want?” Cash asked tersely.

  Jed pulled out a chair and with a flick of his wrist spun it around. He sat down, straddling the seat and resting his arms over the back of the rustic chair. “I need your help.”

  Not again. “Have I sprouted a sign on my forehead that reads Good Samaritan? If not, it must be my past record of doing good deeds that has people coming to me for favors today.”

  Jed ignored the sharp tone of Cash’s voice. “Who else asked you for a favor?”

  Cash lifted his hand and waved off the question. “Never mind. I’ll ask again. What do you want?”

  There was a sparkle in Jed’s eyes, something new and rather frightening. The man was disgustingly happy. “Hannah’s being difficult about getting married again because the first wedding was perfect for her and she doesn’t want to spoil that image with anything common.”

  “So it seems.”

  “So,” Jed said in a lowered voice, “we put on a wedding that’s even better than the first one and performed in English. Everybody gets what they want. I figured you’d know how to make it special.”

  “You want me to help you plan a wedding,” Cash said incredulously.

  “Yeah.” Jed flashed a wide grin.

  “Me.” Cash raised a hand to his chest. “This really sounds like a job for Eden. Or Mary or Lily or Jo. Any one of them—”

  “Any one of them would tell,” Jed interrupted. “They wouldn’t shout it from the rooftops, not at first, but they’d whisper it to one of the other gals, and then that one would tell someone else, and before you know it they’re all standing around Hannah with these goofy smiles on their faces and she’ll know everything. This has to be a surprise or it won’t work.”

  Cash opened his mouth to continue his argument, but Jed wouldn’t allow it.

  “And if I ask any of the other guys, they’ll tell their wives and here we go. It’ll be all over town before sunset.”

  True enough. “What m
akes you think I know a damned thing about weddings?”

  “You have class, Cash.”

  He imagined it was supposed to be a compliment.

  “You’ll know what to do to make the wedding special.”

  His first instinct was to refuse. To utter an absolute, unequivocal no. But of course if Jed planned the surprise wedding himself, it would be a disaster. He’d end up dragging Hannah down the street to the church, issuing demands along the way. Hannah, docile of late or not, would protest. And Hannah did know how to protest. The affair was not likely to turn out well.

  “How long do we have?”

  Jed relaxed visibly. “Hannah’s due in seven weeks, but she’s so huge, I can’t see her going another month and a half. I think the doctor she saw in Dallas made a mistake, I really do.”

  “If her size is any indication of the time of arrival, the sooner the better.”

  “Not too soon,” Jed said with a wave of his big hand. “Too soon is not good.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Jed’s answer was a wide smile.

  In many ways, Jed Rourke had not changed at all. In a fight he would always be handy. He could instill fear with a fierce glare and a low growl. But in some ways he was different. There was a peacefulness in his eyes that had not been there when they’d first come to Rock Creek.

  “What’s it like?” Cash asked in a low voice.

  “What’s what like?”

  Marriage. Complete trust. Being able to sleep at night. “Impending fatherhood.”

  Jed’s smile faded. “To be honest, I’m a little scared.”

  “You are?”

  “No, I’m a lot scared.” Jed ran a hand through his hair and mumbled a foul word. “I haven’t said anything to anybody, but... Hannah is thirty-two years old and just now having her first child. She’s so big, and I can’t help but wonder if the baby is too big.”

  A logical worry, given Jed’s size. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” Cash said, not knowing what else to say. “Alex was a good-sized baby.”

  “Eden is younger than Hannah, and Alex was not her first child.”

  True enough. “Will another wedding make any of this better?”

  “Yes,” Jed insisted. “I know it’s not logical, but I keep thinking that if we’re married in English, everything will turn out all right.”

  So how could he refuse? “All right. Let me give it some thought.”

  Jed grinned as if a load had been lifted from his shoulders. “Thanks. I knew I could count on you.”

  Too many people were counting on Cash these days, and he didn’t like it. Maybe it was time to move on. Permanently this time. This was not the same town the six of them had ridden into and saved. It was growing, becoming more civilized with every passing year. The men Cash had once lived and fought with were not the same. Hell, even Nate was domesticated! Married and tending the Rock Creek flock and constantly sober. Cash didn’t talk to Nate much these days. He told himself that since they no longer had anything in common, there was nothing to say. Nate was as obsessed with his new life—his wife, baby, and congregation—as he had once been with his liquor and his need to hide. Cash stayed here, in a place Nate was sure to avoid. In some dark place deep within the Rev’s heart, the things Rogue’s Palace offered had to call to him still. At least a little.

  Cash stared at the whiskey in his own glass. Yeah, time to move on. But he wasn’t leaving tonight, or tomorrow. He had good deeds to perform before he would be free to go. “I know we always said we’d be there for each other, but I never imagined wedding planning as one of my duties.”

  “Maybe this will be the start of a whole new career for you,” Jed teased.

  “Bite your tongue.”

  Chapter 3

  Eden Sullivan, the sheriff’s wife and hotel proprietor, served an excellent breakfast. Nadine played with her eggs, unable to choke down more than a bite or two of the delicious meal.

  JD’s appetite wasn’t dampened by excitement. He ate like he always did, shoveling the food in as if he couldn’t ever get enough. Normal enough for a growing boy.

  His eyes were bright this morning; he was going to meet his hero. More important, he was going to meet his father. He would never know that, though. Cash had made his wishes on that subject clear enough.

  Not that Nadine had thought seriously about telling JD that Joseph Ellington was not his real father. JD didn’t remember Joseph, but the people of Marianna did. They had been telling him stories about his father for nine years so he wouldn’t be completely robbed of the memory.

  Joseph had been a good husband and father, accepting JD as his own, never once reminding Nadine that she had married him because she’d had no choice. He’d even been kind enough to leave her be on the nights she couldn’t help but cry, knowing that some days she simply needed to mourn quietly, and that she couldn’t do that with him, or anyone else, watching over her. He had known her moods well, understood and respected them. She had always regretted that Joseph also knew, so well, that she’d never loved him. He’d been a good man and he’d deserved better.

  Eden Sullivan moved briskly around the dining room, making sure no one went hungry. A bright and genuine smile was plastered on her face as she went about her work. She checked on the man who was seated in the far corner, a farmer or a rancher by the looks of him, and then something caught her eye and she spun around to face the dining room entrance.

  “Daniel!” she said, her smile growing impossibly wider as she crossed the room. “Why, what a surprise. You’re rarely up and about in time to join us for breakfast.”

  Nadine couldn’t see Cash, but the sound of his voice sent a shiver up her spine. That voice was low, and more friendly than she had expected it would be. “Perhaps I’m attempting to mend my wicked ways.”

  “I doubt that,” Eden said familiarly.

  Nadine turned her head slowly to watch the warm reunion, jealous that Cash mustered a friendly expression for Mrs. Sullivan when he had been able to manage only distaste and disappointment for her.

  Like yesterday, he was dressed in a perfectly cut black suit and a fancy white shirt. There were no ruffles on that shirt today, but to make up for the lack he wore a silver-gray brocade vest.

  How could a man dress like a dandy and still look so dangerous? It was more than the matching six-shooters hanging on his lean hips, more than his bloody reputation. The very air around him was charged. The sight of him might make the hair on the back of anyone’s neck stand up.

  And she was going to entrust him with their son’s well-being. Good heavens, what had she done?

  Cash’s eyes landed on her briefly, and then they shifted. Nadine snapped her head around to see that JD stared in awe at his hero, breakfast forgotten. Her son thought he was so grown-up, but at the moment he looked like a child on Christmas morning.

  She wanted to warn him then and there not to expect too much of Daniel Cash. He was a man who could, and would, break your heart without so much as blinking. He made promises he would not keep.

  Cash made his way to the table with a step that was lazy and still brimming with tension. The click of his boot heel on the floor was steady and rhythmic.

  Eden Sullivan stayed right beside him, her own step less uniform. She almost danced across the floor. “Oh, Daniel,” she said, her voice only slightly tight with a tension of her own. “These are our newest guests. Mrs. Ellington and her son, JD.”

  “How very charming,” Cash said with a half-smile and a dark twinkle in his eye.

  “Mrs. Ellington,” Mrs. Sullivan continued. “This is one of our Rock Creek residents. Well, he is usually a resident, though he does tend to come and go.”

  The friendly blonde seemed surprised that Cash had stayed put for so long. Nadine wondered if the hotel proprietor was trying to avoid mentioning the name of the local gunslinger. That name was too well known these days. “Daniel Cash,” she finally finished.

  “Mr. Cash,” Nadine said lowly. �
��A pleasure.”

  He offered his hand as if for a handshake. Nadine hesitated, then lifted her own trembling hand. Cash took it in his, raised it, and leaned forward to kiss her knuckles. His fingers lingered just a moment too long. A tingle shimmied up her arm all the way to her neck.

  “This is my son, JD,” she said, her eyes pinned to Cash’s.

  He took a deep breath before turning his eyes to take his first good look at his son. Nadine wondered if he saw himself there, if he was, in some small way, pleased to know that he had a healthy, beautiful, wonderful child. If that were true, he hid the emotion well.

  His only greeting to JD was a curt nod of his head.

  JD was not disappointed by the cool response. “Would you have breakfast with us? Please?”

  Mrs. Sullivan tried to rescue them all. “Well, isn’t that sweet? But Daniel prefers to dine—”

  “I’d be delighted,” Cash interrupted, rounding the table and choosing a seat that placed him between Nadine and JD, and facing the doorway.

  Eden Sullivan stood by the table, wide-eyed in surprise. “I’ll bring you a plate,” she said.

  “Just coffee.”

  The blonde dismissed her surprise and smiled. “Do you really think I’m going to let you get away with that? Eggs and ham and biscuits, coming up.”

  “And coffee,” Cash added as she walked away.

  “Of course.”

  * * *

  He kept his eyes on Nadine, because looking at the kid was unexpectedly painful. It was as if the image of his son went from his eyes to his throat to his heart, where it grabbed and squeezed too tight.

  And besides, looking at Nadine was definitely not a chore. She’d cleaned the road dust from her skin, piled her abundant hair in a simple and gentle fashion atop her head, and wore a pale blue blouse that showed off her figure to perfection. No corset again today, he noted. The curves were soft and natural, and might be tempting to any man. Even him.