Page 112 of Love’s Silver Bullet

“So is Half-Pint,” Uncle Finn muttered under his breath, earning a rapid-fire glare from his wife. He homed in on Sheridan once again. “What else?”

“Well, as I already mentioned, he thinks his vile past makes him unfit to have a family.”

“Why the devil would he think that?” Finn demanded.

Sheridan offered her uncle a sad smile. “Because he’s been told that over and over since he’s been small, by his parents, town folk, ministers, doctors, you name it.”

“Doctors?” Dash looked at her with a crimp in his brow.

“Yes,” she whispered, heart aching over the true reason Jake wanted nothing to do with marriage. “Jake’s father was such a violent man, that a doctor once told his mother he believed Jake’s father had a mental illness. An illness that is”—she swallowed hard as tears swelled in her eyes, her voice tapering off to a whisper—“hereditary.”

The room went completely silent, Sheridan’s heart pounding so hard, she was certain everyone could hear it.

“Who was this doctor?” Uncle Finn asked.

Sheridan gave a small lift of shoulders. “I don’t know, Uncle Finn. That’s something you would have to ask Jake.”

“One man’s opinion does not a diagnosis make,” Maggie said quietly, “and there’s certainly no evidence of any mental disorder in Jake.”

“Unless you consider smelly feet a mental disorder,” Dash quipped, obviously trying to lighten the tense mood, “since he sleeps in his boots half the time.”

“And pert near snorting snot when he laughs too hard.” Blaze offered with a lazy smile.

Face somber, Uncle Finn expelled a weary breath, apparently too tired for humor. “Anything else?”

Sheridan nodded. “Both his father and stepfather were killed in the line of duty …” she said, voice trailing off as she sent her uncle a soulful look.

“Line of duty?” Finn squinted at her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “They were both sheriffs,” she whispered, “so between that and Cyrus losing his life in that robbery, Jake refuses to subject any woman to the dangers of his profession.”

“I see.” Finn sagged back in his chair with a tired sigh, head bowed and eyes closed as he rubbed his temple with the pads of his fingers. “Well, I can certainly understand your concern about Jake’s state of mind, Sheridan, and I definitely share it, so I will be happy to talk to him about that further …”

“But?” Libby hovered on the edge of her seat like Sheridan, with the same pinch in her brow.

Finn glanced up, offering his wife a weary smile. “But I can’t force a man to marry my niece no matter how much I may want him in the family, Libby. I love and respect Jake as much as all of you, which is exactly why I refuse to twist his arm into something as important as this.”

Libby issued a grunt. “Too bad you didn’t have the same reservations with Sheridan,” she muttered, “arm-twisting Jake and your nephews to manipulate her life.”

“Might I remind you, Libby,” Finn said in a patient tone that bordered dangerously close to the edge, “that I am Sheridan’s guardian, responsible for her well-being while Jake is a grown man out on his own.”

“And I’m a grown woman, Uncle Finn”—Sheridan’s chin notched up—“who could very well be ‘out on her own’ in five months with a teaching degree in hand.”

“Fine.” Finn picked up his pen once again with a mulish press of his mouth that Aunt Libby often mentioned. “When that happens, young lady, you come back and we’ll talk.”

“No!” Libby shot to her feet, chin elevating to new heights.

Finn’s brows scrunched low. “No?”

“That’s right,” Libby said, battle-ready with a staunch pluck of hands to her hips. “Jake is an important part of this family, Finn, and his well-being affects all of us, especially Sheridan, so this needs to be addressed to all of our satisfaction tonight. Or else.”

Uncle Finn’s jaw went slack … right before it hardened to steel. “Or else? And what the devil is that supposed to mean?”

Sheridan sprang from the chair, shoulders back and head high. “It means, Uncle Finn, that Gray Carmody has asked to court me,” she said, ignoring Shaylee’s gasp and the open-mouthed stares of both her brothers and uncle, “and if I don’t have a commitment from Jake before I leave”—she swallowed hard, Aunt Libby’s assurance that this would work spurring her on—“I plan to say yes.”

“Over my dead body!” Finn shouted with another thump of his fist.

“Precisely, sweetheart,” Aunt Libby said with a sweet smile, “and I’m too fond of you to see that happen, darling, so please don’t risk losing Sheridan over this.” Her brows rose in a veiled dare. “Or me.”