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Elijah tensed. “We are not friends.”
“It seems, amigo, a little foolish to die for a woman that you have no interest in, si?” the Mexican murmured regretfully, reaching for his weapon.
“Don’t, Ramon! That’s a Kincaid!” Bartley snapped.
Elijah turned his head slowly at the direct challenge and for a long minute he said nothing, letting his eyes burn into the Mexican. The man stopped in the motion of drawing his gun, his face creasing with mingled astonishment and fear.
Sullivan remained unruffled, but Elijah could see the slow spasm above his eyebrow. Elijah kept his rifle trained on Sullivan right above his belt buckle.
“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way gentlemen.” His voice was hard and steady. “Now, being a man that has been on the trail for hours and wanting to get some grub and some sleep, I would prefer the easy way. The easy way is accepting that Lady Sheridan is under my protection, thus she is under the Triple K’s protection. The hard way is deciding to make a play for her right now.”
He met each man’s eyes slowly, keeping the rifle trained on Sullivan, and his colt aimed at the sandy haired killer. “Now, doing this the hard way all of us will die.” When he saw the killer’s eyes narrow, he nodded his head coolly. “Yes, all of you, possibly including me. Not just some. So if you want the hard way, then no one is making it off this range today. I dare you to test the truth of my words.” He let the truth swirl into the air and sink into that cold place that dwelled within him.
Bartley’s brows furrowed, his face white yet angry. He looked uncertain. “We have no war with the Kincaids. You are dipping your nose in business that ain’t yours,” he growled.
“Anything that happens on this ranch is my business,” Elijah stated flatly.
Sullivan smiled, and it made Elijah uneasy.
“Sheridan is not yours or the Whispering Creek’s business. You can say the land is yours...” Sullivan shrugged. “But the woman is not.”
His eyes then went cold and cruel and Elijah understood why Sheridan asked for his forgiveness. This man did not want his land. It was only a pretext, and she was savvy enough to see that. This was all about her.
“So it’s the hard way then?” he drawled and lined his Spencer with Sullivan’s chest. “I’ll shoot the next man that moves,” Elijah said unemotionally. It did not seem as if they doubted him. No one moved. There was a charged silence and the sandy haired boy twitched. Elijah smiled and kept his eyes on Sullivan, letting him see the promise of death, for he would be the first one Elijah took out.
Sullivan was cool and unruffled as he tipped his hat and said, “Kincaid.”
Cool as he pleased he walked to the hitching post, untied his horse, launched into the saddle and rode away. Without giving any command, his guns for hire followed him.
Elijah lowered his weapon, his mind churning cold and logical. They would return. He was dealing with a dangerous man and Sheridan was in a hell of a lot more trouble than she had let on. And his life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
Chapter Seven
The situation was more dangerous than Elijah had ever imagined. He stood gazing into the distance until the last of the dust settled down. They had taken the easy way, but from the look in Sullivan’s eyes it was not from fear. Bartley and one of the men that rode with him had been edgy once they realized he was one of the Kincaid brothers. But not Sullivan.
Elijah felt in his gut they would return, and he had to consider that Sheridan’s supposition could be right. At first it seemed a little farfetched that Jericho would murder Thomas for her. Elijah knew when he saw ruthlessness and intelligence combined in one. Jericho Sullivan had that, along with meanness about his face. He could have killed Thomas so that he could claim her. Sullivan wanted Sheridan. But it was not a want born from lust alone. He would have been more possessive if that had been the case. The way Jericho’s men looked at her made Elijah’s gut crawl.
The slow sickening smile Jericho had given him was an invitation to play. This was a man who would share Sheridan, whether she was willing or not. Sullivan was dangerous. And Elijah did not underrate the men he had with him.
Sheridan waited on the wide wraparound porch. Hell. She had been petrified but she had hidden it well. It was rare for a woman like her to see evil when it was looked upon. She had been reared as a genteel lady and had been protected from much of life’s hardships. When he’d first met her he had been afraid to even converse with her, not wanting to taint her with his nightmares and savagery. He doubted she understood the full extent of Jericho’s depravity, but she was no fool. She knew enough to be scared.
He watched a slender red headed woman come onto the porch and speak with her briefly. It was only as the woman glanced in his direction he recognized Beth. She had changed much. She had always been plump and ripe. Now she looked almost gaunt. She touched Sheridan gently and then gave her a hug, before disappearing inside. His mind flitted to Sheridan’s speech about Beth being fragile and that she needed her. There was a story there, one that he would unravel in time, especially since it involved one of his brothers. Unless Sheridan was mistaken in the baby being a Kincaid.
He met Sheridan’s stare over the distance and cantered towards the main house. She was a blend of courage and determination that intrigued him. It shouldn’t have, but Elijah felt a tug that drew him to her fire. She was alone, a woman without protection, and her marrying would truly be the safest thing for her. To a man that would be able to hold onto her, protect her. He was not that man. He had wanted to be for a while. Desperately. He had tried to bury the nightmares in her sweetness, her gentleness, her innocence. He’d selfishly wanted her in his bleak world to brighten the darkness, to hold the nightmares at bay. It had been a good thing she had not been his to claim, because he had almost chained himself to another fragile woman like Emma, a thing he had promised himself to never do. That way only led to torment and agony.
Sheridan waited on the porch for him, her only sign of nervousness the foot tapping lightly on the wooden floor. Thick, wavy hair tumbled past her shoulders. Even though so small she possessed a lush feminine strength. A surge of lust hit him in the gut and he snarled, resenting the feelings.
He slid off his horse and tied him to the hitching post, taking slow measured steps to her. “Sullivan will not give up. He has determined he wants you and he will be like a rabid dog with a bone.”
“I know,” she said softly.
“The best course of action is to be far from his reach.”
She raised her chin defiantly, but she did not reply.
“When you spoke of him earlier…I thought he simply coveted you for your beauty. But I was wrong. He is not a kind man. He will break you.”
Her lips flattened in a determine line. “I need protection.”
