Cash (The Rock Creek Six Book 6)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Cash leaned back and studied his old friend. “You’re letting your hair get long again.”

  “Yeah.” That one word was Sullivan’s idea of a detailed explanation.

  “Why?” Cash pressed.

  Sullivan shrugged.

  “You’re going to make me guess. All right. You like looking like the breed you are,” Cash said tersely. “The barber pissed you off. You want the longest hair possible, so if we’re ever staked to the ground by renegades again you’ll have the best scalp to offer. You think it makes you look—”

  “Eden likes it,” Sullivan interrupted in a low, curt voice. “Satisfied?”

  Cash grinned. “You are so incredibly whipped.”

  “I am not.”

  “If Eden said she liked you in pink calico, would you pin your sheriff’s star to a shift that matches Fiona’s?”

  “You’re the one who wears ruffles around here, not me.”

  Cash raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps, but you’re the one who has the hair to go with those ruffles.”

  “It never bothered you before.”

  “It doesn’t bother me now.”

  Sullivan sighed. “Now I remember why you and I never talk.”

  In truth, he didn’t converse much with any of his old friends these days. They had nothing to talk about. Cash wanted to talk women, cards, and war. The men he had once fought with talked of other things. Babies, wives, plans for a better and bigger Rock Creek.

  Cash didn’t bother to respond. Nadine was coming down the stairs. Her step was soft, tentative... and he would have known it anywhere.

  With a last despairing glance to Sullivan, Cash stood and circled around the couch to offer Nadine the pilfered flowers. She smiled shyly as she took them. If he allowed himself to be so foolish, he might be swept away by a smile like that.

  But he was not like the others, and nothing swept him away. Not ever.

  Chapter 5

  The world was his kingdom, and he ruled with the arrogance and sense of immortality that only an eighteen-year-old can muster. He’d been a soldier for only three months, but he was good at it. In battle he was fearless, his aim flawless, his ability to tune out the noise and the ugliness around him a true gift. Before this war was over, he was going to be a goddamn general. He’d go home a hero, and Nadine’s father would have no choice but to give them his blessing.

  “Hey, Danny.” Melvin, who was scouting with him on this fine morning, hurried to catch up. He stumbled through the dense Tennessee brush, making all kinds of racket.

  The morning had been so quiet, Danny really didn’t mind the noise. There were no Yankees about, no enemy lying in wait. He was king, and Nadine was waiting for him at home.

  “How come my jacket is already in shreds and yours looks like you just joined up and got a new one?”

  Danny glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “You’re worried about your clothes? This is war, Melvin. Nobody cares what kind of shape your jacket is in.”

  Melvin, who in Danny’s opinion had no business in the army, glanced down at his stained and torn jacket. “I really hate to look so shabby. What would the girls back home think?”

  Danny liked Melvin, but fearless the kid was not. “Here,” he said, shrugging out of his own coat. His uniform looked almost untouched. It was as if he were protected when he went into battle. Protected from blood and dirt and the scrapes that left most of the others looking ragged. He tossed the jacket to a delighted Melvin. “When we get back to camp, scratch my name off the inside of the collar and put your own there.”

  Another skirmish and the jacket would look as bad as the one Melvin whipped off and tossed toward Danny. But if such a simple thing cheered him up for a few days, what difference did it make?

  The jacket Danny caught easily was not befitting a king, so he tossed it over his shoulder and continued scouting, one finger hooked around Melvin’s jacket, his own army-issue Colt six-shooter fitting nicely in the other hand.

  Danny didn’t hear a thing, not a single rustle of warning, but suddenly someone was there. The unexpected appearance of the small man in civilian clothes took both Danny and Melvin by surprise. At the sight of the shotgun clasped in the man’s hands, Danny froze. So did Melvin.

  “Hey,” the stranger said in a soft voice. A boy, Danny decided, not a man. The voice was too mellow to belong to a grown man. He relaxed.

  “What are you doing, kid?” Danny asked, taking a step forward. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out here all by yourself? “

  “I can take care of myself,” the boy mumbled, slightly hefting the shotgun.

  Danny cocked his head to the side, trying to see beneath the wide brim of the boy’s hat. “I’m sure you can,” he said, trying not to hurt the kid’s feelings. “But you need to run on home now, you hear?”

  Without warning the shotgun popped up, and Danny instinctively dropped down, rolling forward. The kid fired, and Melvin didn’t have a face anymore. For a very long second, Danny stared at the soldier on the ground. He had seen battle, he had seen soldiers killed. But not like this. And not a friend.

  When Danny tore his gaze from what was left of Melvin and looked up, the innocent looking attacker took aim again. At him this time. The boy cocked the hammer on the double-barrel shotgun, and Danny propelled himself off the ground and up, taking the kid by surprise. Danny grabbed the barrel and forced it up, so when the trigger was pulled the shot fired aimlessly into the air.

  Danny yanked the weapon from the boy’s hands and threw it aside with a scream that was ripped from his gut. The shotgun broke through branches and landed in thick brush. He lifted his Colt smoothly and pointed it at the kid’s midsection. At the moment, he didn’t care that the boy was unarmed. Melvin was dead. God, he hoped Melvin was dead.

  “Who are you?” Danny croaked. He wanted a name before he shot the boy who had killed Melvin. He got no answer. “Yankee?”

  This time the shooter answered with a shake of his head.

  “You live around here?”

  A nod was his answer.

  “What do you have against Confederate soldiers?” Danny shouted.

  “This is my land,” the boy said softly. “Since my pa died, it’s mine. You’re trespassing.”

  “You didn’t have to shoot him!” Danny shook his gun. “We are Confederate soldiers and we have an army behind us. Do you hear that you moron? An army!”

  Incredibly, the kid sniffled.

  His urge to shoot the unarmed kid was gone. No matter that the boy had killed Melvin, it wasn’t right. It wasn’t why he was there. “You’re coming with me,” Danny reached out to grab the kid. “I’ll let the captain hang you for murder.”

  The arm beneath his hand was soft, the cheek peeking out from beneath the wide-brimmed hat too pale. Something wasn’t right. With an insistent hand, Danny forced the kid to look him square in the eye.

  “You’re a girl,” he said incredulously.

  She sniffled. “I’d rather you shoot me now than take me where there are any soldiers,” she said softly. “I won’t let another soldier touch me, you hear? I won’t let that happen again.”

  Danny felt slightly ill. “Someone... hurt you?” His life had been hard at times, sometimes downright unfair. But still, he came from a world where women were protected, not abused.

  The girl shook off his hand, nodded softly, and dipped her chin. “They broke into my house and... and...”

  She didn’t want to tell any more, and he didn’t want to hear. “Come with me to camp, and we’ll tell the captain what happened,” he said.

  “Can’t you just... leave me here?” she begged, turning what had to be the bluest eyes in the world up to him. “I’m sorry, truly I am. I just panicked.”

  Danny turned around and glanced at what remained of his friend. Melvin in a fine jacket that was not his own. Melvin, who had been so worried about looking shabby. They’d hang the girl for sure when he told what she’d done. He really didn’t want to be resp
onsible for sending a girl who’d been so badly treated to her death. Maybe she had just panicked, like she said. Danny walked toward Melvin’s body. But Melvin was still dead. He couldn’t just...

  Danny heard her movements while his eyes were still on Melvin. In a split second it all came together with heart-wrenching clarity. She had another weapon hidden on her somewhere. Stuck at her spine, under that baggy shirt, in a boot... somewhere. He heard the unmistakable sound of gun metal brushing against clothing. The snick of a trigger being cocked came next. Danny turned, and with a quick shifting of his weight saved himself from a belly wound. But the bullet she fired tore into and through his side, there near his waist.

  He’d been in the army long enough to know how to respond. His Colt popped up, he fired. The girl fell just seconds after he did.

  The girl who’d killed Melvin and tried to kill him wasn’t moving, but Danny was able to make his way to her on his hands and knees. When he reached her he placed a hand on the wound at his side. Damn, that was a lot of blood.

  She wasn’t dead, but she would be soon. The single bullet he’d fired had caught her in the chest.

  “Why?” he asked, angry that she’d shot him, just as angry that shed made him shoot her. “Just because one man hurt you...”

  Amazingly, she laughed. “I have allowed an idiot to kill me,” she said softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  She laid her blue eyes on him. Hard blue eyes with no hint of womanly softness. “If any man tried to lay his hands on me without an invitation, I’d rip off his privates and feed them to him.”

  Danny flinched. He had never heard a woman speak this way. “So you weren’t—”

  “No,” she interrupted. A trickle of blood marred her mouth. “I’m just a thief, you idiot. I was after your weapons and your money. For God’s sake, do you believe everything you’re...”

  She died without finishing her sentence.

  Danny made a bandage using his own shirt and the old jacket Melvin had given him. It wasn’t the best of doctoring, but the dressing did slow the flow of blood. He searched the thief’s pockets, and found proof that she’d been telling the truth. Notes. Coins. Watches and rings. He took them all.

  He had never thought he’d be called upon to kill a woman. But then, this one was unlike any female he had ever met. She shook his faith in everything he knew to be true.

  The world was no longer his kingdom. He no longer felt like the fine soldier he’d thought himself to be. Blood loss robbed him of clarity of thought, and as he made his way through a dense copse of trees and found the bandit’s tethered horse, he had only one clear thought. Getting to Nadine. She would make things right. When he saw her, his life would make sense again.

  He climbed into the saddle and headed away from camp. He hadn’t gone far before he passed out in the saddle.

  * * *

  Nadine had brought the dream with her, Cash decided as he rose from his bed with the sun. Damn her, he hadn’t thought about Melvin and the thief who had shot him for more years than he could count.

  He used to have a dream where everything was different. Instead of a female thief, it had been a Yankee soldier hiding behind that tree. Instead of being surprised, he had been expecting the shotgun-wielding soldier. He had not hesitated, but had raised his gun and fired without a second thought. Melvin lived. Danny wasn’t shot. There had been no need to climb into a saddle and take off looking for something that didn’t exist.

  But the Cash in that dream was the man he had become, not the boy he had been more than fourteen years earlier.

  JD slept in the room next door. By God, if he had to be up at the crack of dawn, so did the kid.

  Cash allowed the door to slam against the wall as he threw it open. JD shot up in his bed. For an instant, one heart-stopping instant, JD looked an awful lot like the Danny who occasionally haunted Cash’s dreams. Naive. Hopeful. Stupid.

  “Rise and shine,” Cash said too loudly.

  JD rubbed at his eyes. “Are we going to shoot today?”

  “No,” Cash said abruptly. “First you’re going to scrub the floors downstairs.”

  JD sighed but did not complain. “Then what?”

  Cash smiled. “We have a wedding to plan.”

  * * *

  Dinner with Cash last night had been interesting, Nadine thought as she entered the dining room for breakfast and her eyes landed on the table they’d shared. The table in the corner, where Cash sat with his back to the wall. They’d both been a little uncomfortable after the scene in the garden. Cash hadn’t been quite sure what to do with his hands. She hadn’t been quite sure what to say. They weren’t strangers, but they didn’t know each other, either.

  There had been moments—brief, wonderful short spans of time when he looked at her and she looked at him and the years melted away. She knew and loved him; he knew and loved her. And then that feeling would disappear, and there would be nothing left but an uneasy queasiness and an urge to run.

  She would endure a lifetime of discomfort if it would help to rid JD of his ridiculous notion. Her son would not be a gunfighter!

  This morning there was a crowd gathered for breakfast. There were couples and children everywhere. Sheriff Sullivan, Eden’s husband, was surrounded by his family. A tall, slim young man who listened carefully, a younger boy who could not quite sit still. A young lady with blond curls and the happy child Fiona, a charmer Nadine had already met and come to adore. A baby, old enough to reach his father’s ear and tug enthusiastically and occasionally yank on a handful of long dark hair, laughing all the while, sat on Sullivan’s knee.

  Such a scene made Nadine wish she’d had more children of her own. A daughter, perhaps, or a brother for JD.

  Jed Rourke and his very pregnant wife, Hannah, sat at a table near the entrance. Hannah lifted her eyes and smiled when she saw Nadine. “Join us for breakfast?”

  Nadine happily accepted, not eager to sit alone in a room filled with families.

  “Be careful,” Jed said as he rose and pulled out a chair for her. “Hannah has a tendency to steal food from other people’s plates these days.”

  “I do not,” Hannah protested with a grin. “Well, if I do, I steal only from your plate. Nadine’s breakfast is perfectly safe.”

  As Nadine sat, her eyes fell to Hannah’s stomach. “You must be due any day.”

  Hannah sighed, and her grin faded. “I have almost two months to go, according to the doctor I saw in Dallas on our way home, and by my own calculations. But I just don’t see how that’s possible.”

  There was a lot of stomach there. Nadine glanced around. Eden had her hands full, and the little girl with the blond curls had just joined her mother in helping with the crowded dining room. They were likely to be undisturbed for at least a few minutes.

  “May I?” she asked, lifting her hand.

  Jed looked skeptical, so she assured him. “I’m a doctor. I’ve lost count of how many babies I’ve delivered.”

  He seemed relieved, and Hannah moved her arms aside to give Nadine better access. Nadine laid one hand and then another on Hannah’s midsection. After a moment, she closed her eyes. Her fingers explored expertly. Goodness, there was baby everywhere!

  “Do either of you have a history of twins in your family?”

  After a moment of silence, Jed muttered a foul word, and Hannah sighed in despair.

  “Oh, dear,” the mother-to-be said. “I never really considered... It did cross my mind early on, but I dismissed it as unlikely... Oh, my sister has the most dreadful twin boys!”

  Jed muttered another foul word.

  Nadine removed her hands and opened her eyes. “I can’t be certain, but it’s definitely a possibility. Twins often come early, and that can be a problem if the babies aren’t fully developed. You really should stay in bed as much as possible.”

  “Stay in bed for more than a month?” Hannah said, her voice just a bit too sharp.

  “Now, Hannah, I’m sure Nadin
e knows what she’s talking about.” The big man had gone very pale. “If she says it’s best for you to stay in bed, then I think you should stay in bed.”

  “It likely won’t be near two months,” Nadine said calmly. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut. Jed and Hannah were both terrified. “If it’s twins, they will come a little early, no matter what you do.”

  “I suppose I could read,” Hannah said. “It’s not as if I’m able to get around and do anything, in any case.”

  “I’ll sit with you,” Jed said, still pale.

  It was very sweet, Nadine decided, that Jed was so concerned about his wife. He loved her. It was so obvious, a blind man could have seen it.

  “Will you still be here when the baby... or babies come?” Jed asked. “Eden and Mary both said they’d midwife, but they’ve never delivered twins before. Nate has some experience, but I’m pretty sure he’s never delivered twins before, either.”

  “I can certainly plan to be here that long,” Nadine said. “If I decide to locate my practice here, I’ll most definitely be around.”

  But, of course, she wouldn’t be setting up practice here. Cash would not allow it. As soon as JD was convinced that taking up gunfighting was not an option, Cash would probably escort them both to the edge of town.

  Nadine took a deep breath. Well, he might make life difficult for her, but he couldn’t force her to leave. At least, not before Hannah delivered.

  * * *

  “What kind of a gunslinger plans weddings?” JD asked in disgust as he stepped from Rogue’s Palace onto the boardwalk.

  Cash grinned at the kid’s back. “A man should always be prepared for anything. No task is too ordinary, or too bizarre.”

  JD turned toward the south end of town, and Cash stayed close behind him. “Why can’t I just call somebody out and get it over with?” he asked, so impatient he couldn’t be still. His head turned as he looked over the town. His long, thin fingers danced. “This is the town where the Rock Creek Six live. I could call any one of them out, win, and my name is made.”

  Something in Cash’s heart shriveled, making him shudder deep. He couldn’t allow the fear the very idea of JD taking on one of his own caused to show. “Great plan,” he said dryly. “Let’s see, we have a bunch of aging family men to choose from. A schoolteacher, the sheriff, and the preacher. Not such a hot idea, kid.”