"You can't be serious."
"Very."
She scoffed. "Mr. Elkridge is only a friend. We’ve been getting to know one another, but there was never any romantic interest on my end. Can I not speak to other men?" She brought her hands to her hips.
"Of course, you can speak to other men." But he didn't want her to. He didn't want to cage her, he just didn't want to share her.
She arched a brow as if she didn't believe him, and he didn't blame her. He knew he wasn't acting rationally, but right now, he didn't care. "You can speak to whomever you want."
"What's really going on here, Devon?"
He knew she wasn't going to drop it. "I was jealous, all right?" There, he'd admitted it.
Her jaw dropped open. "You were? Why?"
"I should think that was obvious. He told me he was courting you, and he looked exactly like the man I picture you with."
"And what kind of man is that?"
He took an aggressive step toward her. "The kind with soft hands, soft words, and soft kisses. The kind that actually deserves you."
Anger flared in her eyes. "Only I get to decide which kind of man deserves me. Mr. Elkridge is nice, I won't deny that, but I've known him for some time, and if I had feelings like that for him, I would've married him already. I would have never told you how I feel about you if I wanted to be courted by other men. I thought I made my desires perfectly clear already." She arched a brow as if challenging him, daring him to deny her.
But he couldn't. She had a will of iron, a mind of her own, one that he admired and respected, and he couldn't disagree with her. Still. "When are you going to understand I'm not a good fit for you? I might be jealous and want you all to myself, but it’s not right." Frustration tinged his voice.
She took a challenging step toward him. "And when are you going to understand that I make my own choices? That I reach my own conclusions? I want you, Devon. How many times do I have to tell you that?"
Before he could say anything else, she turned on her heel and marched back into the house, not bothering to glance his way again.
He cursed, raking a hand through his hair. He'd screwed up, big time, and he knew it.
What was wrong with him? Every little thing with Juliette made him crazy. He didn't like this part of himself, didn't like that he felt so out of control, so vulnerable when it came to her.
He had a feeling that wouldn't change anytime soon. He needed to apologize, and then figure out a better way to handle his emotions, because he was afraid they would only get deeper the longer he spent time with her. And he couldn't afford to do anything to lose her.
By nighttime, Juliette decided she was calm enough to talk to Devon. The whole situation between Devon and Mr. Elkridge had shaken her. Sure, she was flattered he was jealous, but it also worried her. She didn't want to be with anyone who was controlling and would try to lock her away. She needed to be able to trust him.
And right now, she wasn't sure she could.
She took a deep breath and stepped out of her room, heading down the steps. She knew Devon was in the front room, and she wanted to talk this over with him once and for all.
She stepped into the room, and was grateful it was well lit. For some reason, the light made it easier to confront him.
He saw her, closed his book quickly, and sat up. "Hi."
"Hello." She lingered in the doorway, not sure what to do.
He set the book aside. "Would you like to sit down?"
She entered the room and chose a chair, instead of sitting on the sofa next to him. A little distance would help her formulate her thoughts more clearly.
He leaned forward and interlocked his fingers. "I'm glad you're here. There's something I want to talk to you about." He said, before she could start the discussion.
"There's something I want to talk about with you, too."
He nodded knowingly. "I can guess. About this morning?"
Juliette nodded, and he blew out a breath. "That's what I thought. Look, I'll be the first to admit it, I was out of line."
His admission surprised her. She'd expected him to clam up, to hide behind his pride, unwilling to admit he'd made a mistake. But she was wrong about that.
"I have no right to tell you who you can see or talk to. No one does, not even your husband, after you marry. You're independent, strong, and intelligent, and even though I might be guarding you, you're capable of taking care of yourself. I overstepped, and I'm sorry."
His speech temporarily tied her tongue. She swallowed a few times and nodded slowly. "Thank you. I appreciate that."
"I mean every word."
"I know you do.” She puffed out a breath. “I won't lie, I was disturbed earlier. Your attitude was high-handed and condescending, and worse, controlling." He nodded his head after every single accusation, not even trying to deny it. "I appreciate your apology, but I want to know why you did it. Why you were so jealous."
"You don’t know?"
"I have my guesses. But until you actually tell me, no I don't."
It looked like he wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but stopped himself, as if he didn't deserve to. "I wish I had a better excuse, but the plain truth is, the thought of him with you, of you wanting him, made me lose my mind. It's not right," he admitted again, "and I'm sorry. I care about you a lot, and the thought of losing you is difficult to swallow. In the future, I'll do better. I promise."
It was as she thought, he was afraid of losing her, but hearing him say it, hearing how he cared, made flutters dance in her stomach. No matter what had happened, she mattered to him, and he wanted a future between them, just as she did. "I appreciate that. I know relationships are hard, and there will be adjustments as we learn more about each other, but I also know that if we are willing to be open, we can make this work. And I still really want to make this work."
He let out a gush of breath and reached for her hand, enclosing it in both of his. "Thank you. I do, too. I think the situation with Mr. Elkridge proved that to me even more. I care about you so much, Juliette. Thank you for giving me another chance."
She squeezed his hand. "Of course. There are always hiccups in any relationship, and I would hope that when I mess up, you give me another shot, too."
"Always."
He gave her a relieved smile, and pulled her from her chair and onto his lap. He settled her legs across from his and cradled her.
She leaned her head to the side, resting it on his shoulder, relishing the feel of his arms wrapped around her, of being held against him. She took a deep breath, enjoying the spicy smell of him, the warmth that filled her. "So, you get a bit jealous," she said, with a hint of teasing in her voice. "Is there anything else I should know?"
Devon froze beneath her, and she leaned away to look at his face. "Devon?"
It was then he realized his reaction, and that she'd noticed it. "Hmm?" He said, trying to veer her attention away.
"Are you all right?"
Was he all right? No, he wasn't. He could tell she'd been teasing him, but her words struck him to his core. Was there anything else she should know? Yes. There was a lot she should know, but nothing he wanted to tell her. Getting a little jealous over another man was one thing, but finding out he was a criminal was another. "I'm fine. Just enjoying holding you." The lie was sour on his tongue.
She looked as though she didn't believe him, but instead of saying anything, she leaned down and let him hold her.
He squeezed his eyes tight, willing himself to open his mouth, to speak, to confide in her, to tell her everything. But he was afraid, and the longer he sat there, the more he knew the words wouldn't come.
He knew he would regret this moment, regret not telling her. He knew if he wanted this relationship to succeed, he needed to be honest with her, but the thought of losing her terrified him.
No matter how many times he thought of the conversation, how he could present the information, it never turned out well. "I don't deserve you."
&nbs
p; She ran her hand up and down his arm. "You do deserve me. You're a good man, Devon. There's nothing you could tell me that would make me think otherwise."
He shook his head slowly, wishing that were true.
"I mean that. Please believe me." She ran her hand up his neck and into his hair, tugging softly, and his negative thoughts drifted away, pleasure from her touch filling its place.
He really should have told her, and he needed to, soon, if he wanted any chance of keeping her after she found out.
He just needed to find the right way to tell her.
Chapter 11
It had been three weeks since Juliette had learned about the mother lode, and finally, it was almost over. Ronan had come by to tell her the gold was nearly extracted, and the news couldn't have come at a better time. It was dark out, and they'd already finished dinner, but she would have welcomed Ronan in, even if it had been later. She hadn't realized how used she'd become to having the house full. With just her, Devon, and Sylvia for company, she craved more interaction.
She and Devon waved a final goodbye to Ronan as he climbed onto his horse in the dark. It worried her he was riding so far with no light to guide his way, but she was sure Ronan wouldn't have ridden out, if it were dangerous.
Devon closed the door once Ronan rode away and turned to her. "It looks like all of this is almost finished."
She couldn’t tell from his tone or expression if he was happy or disappointed by the news. In the last week since Mr. Elkridge had visited, there seemed to be a bit more distance between them. They'd talked, kissed, and had enjoyed each other's company, but she felt as if he was keeping something from her.
She wished she knew what it was, wished she could reassure him, but if he didn't tell her, didn't open up, she never would be able to.
He followed her as she returned to the front room and sat down, folding her hands over her stomach, grateful for the ample candlelight. "I'm relieved, and somewhat surprised the news hasn't leaked yet."
"We got lucky. Usually this type of information doesn't remain a secret for long. After the mine is clear, we won't need to worry about robbers, we'll just need to worry about you and Willow." He smiled at her. "I guess I should just say Willow. After all your training, I'd say you're capable of taking care of yourself."
A happy rush filled her at his praise. She was proud of all she'd accomplished. In the time he'd been here, she’d gotten better with a pistol, and had mastered a few martial arts skills. He'd focused on moves which favored smaller, weaker people. She hated thinking of herself like that, but against most men, she was. Especially the ones who would try to take advantage of her.
"I definitely like to think so, but I wouldn't mind having a strong man around." She gave him a slow wink. When he grinned at her, she was grateful she'd teased him.
"Is that so?"
She rose from her chair and walked to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "That's so."
He dipped his head and gave her a soft kiss, lingering at the end. "You know, I'm not going to be able to stay here anymore once it's done. It wouldn't be proper."
She sighed. "I know, but I wish that wasn't the case." She wished there was some way he could remain close by, but there wasn’t a place around. Maybe she could stay in town, with one of the other women, so she could see Devon as often as she pleased. She wondered how long they would court before moving on to something more serious. "I could stay in town for a little bit. It would cut down on travel time."
He nuzzled her neck. "You don't have to do that. I'm happy to ride out every day just to see you."
Between his attentions at her neck and his words, her stomach flipped. He knew just how to touch her now, what set her nerves on fire, and she wanted even more. She wished they didn't have to wait. She bit her lip. "Devon, how long do you think you’ll stay in town?"
She tried to sound casual, but he must have sensed her unease. He stilled his attentions. "I hadn't thought about it." He lifted his head and looked in her eyes. "As long as you want me here."
Relief filled her, and she smiled at him. "If that's the case, be prepared for a long stay."
"Oh, really?" He asked, leaning down for a quick kiss. "If that's the case, then—"
A loud crash sounded behind the house and Devon was already hauling her towards the stairs before she knew what was happening. "Devon!"
He urged her up the stairs, but halfway up, the door banged open. Devon instantly had his gun out of his holster, and fired a shot through the open doorway, warning whoever was out there what would happen if they stepped inside.
Devon didn’t duck for cover. Instead, he stayed in front of Juliette, protecting her body with his own. "You come in the door, and you're dead! I won't even hesitate."
Juliette was about to slip into her room when she heard a voice from outside. "Oh, come now, Juliette, you'd have your own brother shot?"
Ice filled her veins, and she hurried back down the steps to stand beside Devon. "Sam?"
Devon had gone rigid next to her, then he cursed as her brother stepped into the doorway.
"That's right, Jules. Now, can I come in, or are you going to have Dev shoot me?"
Shock that he was here warred with her confusion. How did he know Devon's name? Had he overheard her saying it?
"Juliette…" Devon said, warning her to think before she made her choice.
But what other choice did she have? She couldn't be responsible for her brother getting shot.
Sam waited in the doorway as she made up her mind. "You can come in," she said, because she had no other choice. If he was here, it was because he wanted something, and even if she told him to leave, she knew he wouldn't.
He grinned, as if he'd known her answer all along. "Well, that's much better." He stepped into the house and then gestured back to the doorway. "I hope you don't mind if my friends join us."
Devon's gun never strayed from the doorway, but movement drew her gaze away from his weapon. Five other men, all shabbily dressed and rough looking, stepped into the house.
Fear raced through her. This couldn't be good, especially if Sam had brought these men with him. "What do you want?"
Her brother sighed loudly. "Is that how you treat a guest? Why don't you come sit with me in the front room?" He asked easily, but she knew it really wasn't a request.
Devon hadn't lowered his weapon, and didn't look like he would, but Juliette knew there would be no fighting through this. She placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, urging him to lower the gun. She didn't want to see him get hurt.
Knowing what she wanted, he lowered the pistol, and Sam's smile widened. "Good choice, Dev." He nodded toward the sitting room, silently commanding them to follow him.
Juliette treaded silently behind Devon, dread filling her with every step she took closer to her brother. More than anything, she was beginning to think her brother actually knew Devon. Suddenly, she remembered an earlier conversation, where Devon had said he'd seen Sam throwing a knife. She'd thought Devon had been a victim, but now, she wasn't so sure.
Heavens above, what did that mean?
As she entered the sitting room, her brother lounged cozily on the sofa, his minions hovering behind him. "Sit," he commanded.
She wanted to remind him he was in her house, and he didn't have a right to order her about. But she held her tongue, knowing it would only infuriate him, and she wanted to keep him as calm as possible. If she played weak, dumb, and inferior, she and Devon might get out of here in one piece. She sat. "Why are you here, Sam?"
"I think you know exactly why I'm here." He arched his brow in the exact same way she did. They had the same coloring, and similar features, but where hers were delicate, his were severe, cruel.
"Actually—" she held up her hands "—I don't. I haven't seen you in almost two years. I'm assuming you're not here because you missed me."
He snorted his amusement, and it took everything Juliette had to hold a steady face. He didn't even pretend
to care about her.
"But I did miss you, little sister. You're the only family I have left."
She bit her tongue. "You still have our aunts and uncles."
"As if I would consider that garbage family. Look what they did to us after mother and father died, cast us off without even a moment of remorse."
There were so many things she could say, so many accusations she wanted to hurl at him. Their aunts and uncles would've taken them in, cared for them, but it was because of Sam they'd been cast out.
"All right. So, you missed me. I appreciate you coming for a visit, but right now is a bad time. Maybe you could come back in a couple months—" she glanced to the men behind him "—without your friends, and have a nice, long visit.”
He tsked. "I don't think so, Jules. You have something that I want."
She stood up as realization dawned. "The mine." He nodded approvingly. "How did you know?"
"Come now, Jules. You know me. I kept tabs on you when you left, and when you were given part of the mine, I bribed one of the workers to let me know if it ever struck it big. I didn't think it would ever happen, but now I’m glad I paid such close attention."
Juliette felt like a rug had been pulled out from under her. "A worker?" She tried to fully grasp what he'd done, how long he'd been involved, but she struggled. She wished she could turn to Devon, to wrap her arms around him, close her eyes, and will this all away. But she couldn't. Instead, she took a deep breath and focused on her brother. She needed to remain vigilant, sharp, if she were going to deal with him. "So, what now? You want more money, is that it?"
She knew couldn’t be the case. He'd robbed so many banks, he had to be floating in cash.
"I want a bit more than that." He grinned cruelly. "I want it all, and to get it, you'll be coming with us."
She gasped and took a step in retreat, her back plastering against Devon's front. His hands went to her shoulders and he squeezed as if to reassure her, but he couldn't. There were six men against the two of them. No matter what happened, Devon would be injured if they fought. They had to figure out another way to get through this.
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