Sullivan (The Rock Creek Six Book 2) Read online

  “From the look on his face, I’d say things did not go well for Mr. Sullivan this evening,” Cash drawled in a low voice as he leaned against the long, polished bar.

  “Go away,” Sullivan replied, no insult intended by the remark, and none taken judging by the way Cash grinned crookedly.

  “Let me guess,” Cash said softly. “You foolishly made your move on Jed’s sister and she showed you the door.”

  “Close enough,” Sullivan muttered.

  Cash made a low noise in his throat and demanded a bottle of the finest whiskey from his well-trained bartender. They waited until the bottle had been deposited before them and Yvonne had moved down the bar before resuming their conversation.

  “Women,” Cash said, calling on his wisest voice, since he considered himself an expert on the subject, “are fickle creatures. While it is my most ardent suggestion that you keep yourself the hell away from Miss Rourke, if you choose to ignore that advice and move forward you must do so with some considerable caution. She’s not a saloon girl, you know. You need a plan.”

  “What does that mean?” Sullivan asked tiredly.

  “Succinctly, it means court her, promise her whatever she wants, screw her, and then get the hell out of town before her brother returns.”

  Sullivan rotated his head slowly to see if Cash had one of his trademark grins in place. Surely he was kidding! Apparently, the man was deadly serious.

  “I can’t do that. Eden’s a nice girl.” Unfortunately for him, that was the truth.

  Cash tossed back a half glass of whiskey and then slammed his glass on the bar. “God save us from nice girls,” he muttered. “Trust me,” he said, his voice just a little bit louder than before, “inside every nice girl there’s a soul-stealing bitch just waiting to be set free.”

  Sullivan shook his head. “Eden’s not like that.”

  Cash rotated slowly and leaned against the bar. “You want a woman, Sullivan?” He looked smug, at home, at ease in the saloon that was his home. “You never avail yourself of the local talent. Why is that?”

  “I live here.” As far as he was concerned, that was explanation enough. Hell, he was in this saloon almost every day when he was in Rock Creek. He didn’t want any ties here, any obligations. Not even with a prostitute.

  “So you prefer to take your pleasures elsewhere,” Cash said, seeming to understand. “I can understand that.” He wrinkled his nose. “Well, not really. Where’s your sense of community? Don’t you think we should do all we can for the local economy?”

  “Not really.”

  “Look around you,” Cash said, his smile creeping back, “and pick one. I’m very selective about the women I allow to take up residence above stairs. And I don’t take a penny of the money they bring in, so I don’t want you to think I have any ulterior motives in pressing you in their direction.”

  “You know,” Sullivan said, anxious to change the subject, “this is not your place.”

  Cash raised haughty eyebrows. “The coward who owned it ran off when El Diablo showed up, and he never returned. What am I supposed to do? Sit around and allow a perfectly good saloon to go to waste?”

  “That would never do,” Sullivan mumbled.

  Cash ignored his sarcasm and lifted a hand to gesture casually, the lace at his cuff swaying. “Laurel’s a sweetheart,” he said, pointing out the brunette at the opposite end of the bar. “And she’s very”—he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly—“energetic. Ethel,” he said, turning his head to the table where the blonde sat on a gambler’s knee, “is as nice a girl as you’d ever want to know. She’s new. Showed up one day at the door looking for work, and I simply could not make myself turn her away. She makes a lot of noise, though,” he said with a frown. “Likes to talk all the damn time, even when... Well, given that you don’t usually talk much at all, I’d look elsewhere if I were you. Then there’s Kate,” he said, his frown slowly transforming into a sly smile as he watched the redhead climb the stairs with another customer. “The woman has got the finest tits I’ve ever had the pleasure of fondling. And she knows how to keep her pretty mouth shut. Unless of course...”

  “Enough.” Sullivan groaned. “I don’t want...” he began. “I can’t...”

  Cash set cold eyes on him, and Sullivan shivered. He’d suspected, in days past, that Daniel Cash had no heart, perhaps even no soul. He killed too easily, too quickly, and without remorse. No wonder Cash was such a successful gambler; no one could read those eyes.

  He was an unrepentant womanizer, relishing in his pleasures but never getting too close to any one female. He’d smile at a woman and flirt outrageously and get what he wanted from her, but from what Sullivan could see, Cash didn’t feel anything for anyone.

  Talking to Cash about women was like talking to Nate about God.

  “Thanks for the advice,” Sullivan said, pushing away from the bar, “but I think I’ll just head back to the hotel and turn in.”

  “Sullivan,” Cash said softly, “be careful. I don’t have many friends, and I wouldn’t want to see one of the few who are left dangling in the wind over a woman. If you won’t take my earlier advice, then try this. Get out of town. Tonight, first thing in the morning at the latest. Don’t say good-bye. Don’t kid yourself that one last kiss will be all right; just leave. And don’t come back here until you know she’s gone.”

  Sullivan had to admit that last suggestion made a lot of sense. “Maybe I will.” He nodded once, knowing Cash was right. “Yeah, I’ll leave in the morning. I need to... fetch my hat, anyway.”

  Hellfire. The day Daniel Cash started making sense about women was a sorry day, indeed.

  * * *

  After an almost sleepless night spent tossing and turning, gently so as not to disturb Millie, Eden was up with the sun. If she couldn’t sleep, she might as well get some work done.

  Mr. McClure needed nourishment, and he simply refused to eat Lydia’s cooking—with good reason. Eden decided that if she was going to feed the hotel owner, she might as well make enough for everyone. Jedidiah’s friends had been kind to her; it was the least she could do.

  When she caught sight of a figure in the hotel lobby, she was surprised to find anyone else up and about at this hour. When she realized that it was Sin and that he carried heavily loaded saddlebags over his shoulder, her heart did an unpleasant flip in her chest.

  “Good morning,” she said from the stairway, interrupting Sin’s determined stride toward the door.

  He stopped, then turned slowly to face her. “Good morning,” he said in a low, somewhat dejected voice.

  She stepped quickly to the bottom of the stairs. “Where are you going?”

  He sighed before answering. “Webberville.” He shifted, redistributing the weight of his saddlebags. “I want my damn hat back.”

  Her hands balled into fists at her sides. When she’d first seen him, badly outnumbered and being beaten, it had hurt. To see any human being suffer pain was difficult. But now she loved Sin, and the idea that he would subject himself to such pain again was too much to bear.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Something resembling a smile began to cross his face, barely tilting the lips, barely lighting his hazel green eyes. “No?”

  She had to remind herself that he was a man and would not take kindly to orders from a woman. “At least,” she said, calling on her calmest voice, “I wish you would wait a few days. I could use your help,” she added. “I... I need you here.”

  His hint of a smile disappeared. “Why?”

  Why? Why, indeed? She took a deep breath as she searched for an answer Sin would find suitable. If he thought she was trying to protect him, he would surely run.

  “Since Mr. McClure is ill, I thought I might help him out around the hotel. You know, fix the place up a bit. You could help with the heavy lifting and the moving of furniture.”

  “Rico can help you, and I’m sure he’d be glad to. Nate, too, if he hasn’t had too much to drink. Just don’t as
k Cash to lift anything heavy.” He grinned at the mild slur.

  Eden clasped her hands before her and moved forward. She wanted to reach up and push those long strands of hair back, so she could see Sin’s face. Her hands positively itched to touch him. “Well, I suppose it’s true that anyone can help me with those chores, but... but...” She lifted her eyes to Sin’s as the idea came to her. “But I’m going to enroll the children in school today, and I know they’ll want you there. Especially Teddy. It might be a difficult day for him, but I don’t think it would be right to shelter him completely from the world even though I am tempted to keep him close for a few more days. I worry about him.” She took another step forward. “And he does so look up to you.”

  “I really shouldn’t,” he said, but she could tell he was having second thoughts.

  She glanced at the weight on his broad shoulders. “Why such a heavy saddlebag for the trip to Webberville? It can’t be a long trip on horseback.”

  He hesitated. She could see the reluctance to answer in his eyes and the way his mouth worked slightly before he answered. “I won’t be coming directly back to Rock Creek.”

  “Where are you going?” she asked, being very careful not to sound too disappointed. “Are you going to visit family?”

  “I don’t have any family,” he said curtly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not,” he said, and she could tell that he meant it.

  Eden took another step forward. “It sounds very lonely, not to have any family at all.”

  “I like it that way.”

  She finished closing the distance between them. “You know, Sin, that’s the main difference between you and me. You enjoy being alone, depending on no one and making sure no one depends on you. And I, well, I’d rather live in the most desolate place on earth, surrounded by people I love, than live alone in paradise.”

  “If you came to Rock Creek looking for the most desolate place on earth, you found it,” he said in a lighthearted voice that rung with insincerity.

  He was going to leave, ride off to Webberville and face those horrid ruffians without anyone there to help him. Who would save him this time? Ah, he would surely never accept or acknowledge that he needed saving.

  “I can’t convince you to stay?” she whispered.

  He shook his head.

  “Then kiss me good-bye.”

  She didn’t give him a choice, but went up on her tiptoes to place her mouth over his. He could’ve pulled away, could’ve easily shifted his head so she couldn’t reach his mouth, but he didn’t. As soon as their lips touched, she closed her eyes and savored the taste and feel of Sin’s kiss, the rush in her body, as though she’d drunk too much wine.

  “Moving furniture,” Sin said as Eden pulled her lips from his.

  “Ummm-hmmm,” she murmured, and then she kissed him again. His lips were soft, sweet, addictive. She couldn’t get enough.

  He pulled his mouth just slightly from hers. If she wasn’t mistaken, he sighed, low and deep, in what could only be resignation. “Maybe it would be best if I took Teddy to school. I could introduce him to Reese, the schoolteacher, and explain the situation.”

  “That would be so sweet,” Eden whispered with a smile, and then she kissed him again. With every kiss she melted a little bit more. And so did he. “You really are a very sweet man,” she muttered against his mouth.

  “Maybe I could postpone my trip for two or three days,” Sin said as Eden pulled her lips from his once again. “Maybe a week or so.”

  “What would I do without you?” she breathed, and Sin dropped his saddlebags to the floor and took her in his arms for a proper kiss.

  * * *

  Sullivan cast a sideways glance to Eden, who held Millie’s hand as the four of them, their little pretend family, walked toward the Rock Creek schoolhouse. There was a deep and complete peacefulness on her face, a serenity he himself had never known and never would.

  Why had he agreed so easily to stay? He never backed down, never, not at the threat of guns or fists or any other weapon of war. Hell, he could recognize and challenge the threat of a blade or a bullet, but blue eyes and a soft kiss did him in. He hadn’t even put up a fight.

  Teddy walked beside him, silent as always and more tense than usual. As the schoolhouse came into view, the kid reached out and grabbed Sullivan’s hand, little fingers slipping against a large palm and taking hold. Sullivan made a fist and held the kid’s hand, firmly but not too tight. Almost immediately, Teddy relaxed.

  Sullivan didn’t like the fact that this kid had somehow come to depend on him, that he, as Eden said, looked up to him. Half-breed bastards who lived their lives moving from one fight to the next didn’t need little kids hanging on to them any more than they needed nice girls popping up to turn those lives upside down.

  When Sullivan opened the schoolhouse door, Reese, who leaned over the desk at the front of the room, lifted his head. His eyebrows arched in surprise as he invited the foursome in.

  Reese was different these days—a schoolteacher, for God’s sake! The man who’d led them all in many battles was a husband, too, and the father of a baby girl. He’d settled in Rock Creek; he’d found peace. But he was the same man he’d always been, in many ways. He was still one of them, and he always would be. The surprise on his face quickly faded.

  “Miss Rourke would like to enroll these kids in school,” Sullivan said as they approached the desk and his former captain. “This pretty little girl is Millie.” He nodded to the child, who smiled brightly. She’d have no problem fitting in, for the duration of Eden’s stay in Rock Creek. “And this is Teddy.”

  Teddy held on to Sullivan’s hand tight and took a step back, moving to the side, as if trying to hide behind one long leg.

  “Maybe Teddy should wait a few days,” Eden said, looking at the boy with real concern in her eyes. She tensed as much as the kid had. “Perhaps he’s not ready....”

  “He’s ready,” Sullivan said sternly but in a soft voice. “Just let me have a word with him.”

  He and Teddy walked to the back of the room, leaving Eden to introduce herself to Reese. Sullivan heard Millie’s bright voice as he reached the doorway and bent down to look Teddy in the face. They still held hands.

  “Reese is a good man,” he said softly. “He would never hurt you. Do you understand?”

  Teddy nodded once, but he didn’t relax.

  “I know you don’t want to stay here,” he added, “but Eden wants you to get some smarts, so what are we gonna do?” He shrugged slightly, and so did Teddy. “Besides, I want you to keep an eye on Millie for me. She’s just a kid, you know. She’ll need you to watch out for her, she won’t be afraid if she knows you’re here. It’s scary, sometimes, being in a new place with new people.”

  Teddy nodded again, and his dark eyes seemed less panicked. He still looked fragile, too small, too vulnerable.

  “And I’ll be here after school to walk you back to the hotel.”

  Teddy slipped his hand from Sullivan’s and faced the front of the room, head high, spine straight, just a little bit afraid. Sullivan gave him a gentle nudge on the shoulder, and Teddy shuffled forward to join Millie.

  The door opened, and three older girls walked in, laughing and hugging their books to their chests. Eden left Millie and Teddy with Reese and walked to Sullivan with a weak smile on her face. She only looked back twice.

  As she and Sullivan started to walk through the door, Millie called out, her voice bright and clear, “Good-bye Mama. Good-bye Papa.”

  Sullivan glanced over his shoulder to see that this time Reese’s evident surprise was not so quick to fade.

  Chapter 7

  Eden was ready to dive into her chores, once they returned from delivering the children into the schoolmaster’s hands. She missed Millie and Teddy already, but she knew they needed to be in school. An education was important for both of them, and they needed to meet other children. She knew this, and still she missed them.
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  Mr. McClure had been fed and was sleeping soundly, so it was time to come up with something to keep Sin busy, something that would keep him away from Webberville. There was so much to be done in the old hotel, that wouldn’t be at all difficult.

  On the ground floor, not far from the foot of the stairs, there was a chamber, not much more than a pantry really, where residents of the hotel could bathe. A dividing wall separated the area from the lobby, so that someone leaving the room didn’t step directly into the main public room of the hotel. The room was quite small, and apparently it was infrequently used. There was, however, a large, deep bathtub that, when scrubbed, would do quite nicely.

  She had Sin drag the tub out of the small room so she could sweep and dust. When that was done, he carried the tub back in and watched while she wiped it down. As usual, he didn’t say much at all.

  Perhaps that was just as well. If his mind drifted without warning to improper thoughts, as hers had so often during the day, silence was probably best.

  “There,” she said, standing when the chore was finished. “Isn’t that better? Why, with a few clean towels and some bath oils and special soaps, this will be a wonderful room for bathing. And this tub is in excellent condition.” She looked over her shoulder and smiled at Sin. “It’s so large, I’ll bet it’s even big enough for you.”

  She glanced down into the deep tub, already longing for a nice, long soak. “Why don’t you sit in it, just to be sure?”

  “You’re kidding, right?” he asked.

  “No. I’d like to know if it’s adequate for the guests, before I go to the trouble of gathering towels and all the rest. I know it’ll suit me and the children, but since most of the hotel guests are male, it seems only right that I do my best to make sure the facilities are adequate.”

  Sin cursed as he stepped past her and into the tub, boots and all. She didn’t bother to tell him to watch his language.

  “Have a seat,” she said, when he continued to stand there.

  With a sigh he complied, sitting down, then leaning back, then stretching out his long legs so the heels of his boots were propped up on the edge of the tub.