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Elijah was in full agreement. “You will have mine until you depart.”
Panic flickered over her face and she pressed on. “I do not have to leave. Not if I have the protection of the Kincaid name. Not if I have your protection, Elijah.”
His heart slammed into his throat, and echoes of screams rose in his mind. “You will have my strength and my gun for as long as you choose to remain here. But we will never marry.” Regret soured in his gut, he should be doing the honorable thing, especially after last night. But where would that leave them? Trapped in a marriage filled with nightmares and bitterness?
“Do you hate me that much? Instead of marrying me you will allow them to take me?”
He stepped in close enough where she had to tilt her head to watch him. “I do not hate you, Sheridan, do not believe that for a second. Know that as long as I breathe Sullivan will not take you. I will protect you to the best of my ability.”
“There was a time you wanted to marry me, Elijah,” she said softly.
He hardened himself against the rush of desire as she rested h
er palms on his chest, eyes imploring as she stared at him.
“That time has passed.”
She barely controlled her flinch and a part of him wanted to retract the words. He could not. He would not give her hope when there was none. She set her chin and Elijah caught a glimpse of the strength he knew she harbored.
“This is my home, Elijah. The only place I have ever belonged.” She shifted away from him, fisting her hand at her side. “I will take your protection for however long you offer it, but I will not run. My inheritance has been poured into this ranch. This outfit should be mine. If you are not willing to marry me for it…I want to buy your shares from you. I will hire enough men to work for me, and to help me hold it.”
He sighed. “They will not work for you, Sheridan.”
“I know I am a foreigner. But if you were here...Helping me. I would have a chance. Don’t ask me to abandon my home. Wherever I go, my wealth will always be coveted. If I go to Santa Fe, Boston or Tennessee. There will always be someone that will want to take what I have. And I will not give it up. It belongs to my children, and their children.”
The truth of her words slapped him. He had already suspected that Sullivan would not give up. And it was possible having him on the ranch would be the safest thing for her, until he found out the depths Sullivan would go to claim her. Elijah could not in good conscience send her away, not if Sullivan would hunt her across state for the wealth she had. Elijah needed to understand the depths of Sullivan’s resolve. “Where is Miguel?”
“He is inside on the ground floor. He is in the sun room.”
Elijah arched a brow. “The sun room?”
She smiled and shrugged. “The fifth door on the left.”
He made to leave but paused when she grabbed his hand.
“Will you sell to me, Elijah?”
“No.”
“Why not?” she demanded, her eyes flashing.
He did not hesitate in giving her the unvarnished truth. “Women like you were not built for this land. For this life. I say this because it is the reality of the land. I will not sell to you. That will make you more of a target than you already are. You are accustomed to balls and tea parties, servants and ladies’ maids to braid your hair. Take Beth and go to Boston, New York, or return to England. You can carve out a life for yourself there. I will not always be here to protect you. Pack up and leave, Sheridan. If you value your life...Leave, you are a sheep amongst coyotes out here.”
He stepped back from her, steeling himself against the devastation in her eyes. He opened the massive carved wooden oak doors, and stepped into the house he had sworn to himself he would never re-enter as long as she lived there.
The ranch house was drastically changed since the last time he had been in it. Elijah walked through the entrance hall, and turned left down the hall way. He took note of the differences and inhaled the scent of fresh pine into his lungs. The floor glistened and the place glowed with a vitality that had not been present when he’d last visited.
All the drab curtains had been switched out to beautiful drapes of vibrant colors. Paintings now graced the walls in the living area. He paused in front of the grand piano that sat in the hall. The interior was graceful and beautiful like Sheridan herself. It showed that money had been spent on making the house elegant, but that it had been spent with taste.
He forced himself to move on and knocked on the fifth door. A voice bid him to enter and he strode into the room. Miguel La Vega, a Mexican vaquero, was Elijah’s friend and foreman. Miguel lay in the bed and he struggled to sit up when he saw Elijah, a wide smile splitting his face. Miguel was not a soft man, and being in bed for weeks did not lessen him in any way. He was muscled from wrestling broncos and steers, roping cattle, and he did not seem diminished. Elijah was glad to see that he was well on the way to recovery.
“Patron. It is good to see that you have returned. The Senora has needed you.”
Elijah clasped his hands up to his forearm and grinned. “It is good to see you, Miguel. How are you doing?”
“I’m doin’ all right. So will the Senora, now that you are here.”
He grunted at Miguel’s assessment and drew the great chair closer to his bed and sat.
