“We sure do,” cook said, also bustling to her feet, her face beaming with pleasure. “The peach cobbler is just about ready and if I recall rightly, it is your favorite Mr. Kincaid.”
Most of the serving dishes in the center of the large table were almost empty, but there was enough food remaining to feed him twice over. But he couldn’t stay. He felt like an intruder. “I’ll take a plate to the bunkhouse.”
Evident disappointment settled on Sheridan’s face, but Mrs. Murphy started packing him a plate.
“I’ll wait in the hallway.”
Before anyone could object, he walked away. Soft footfall followed him, and he knew it was Sheridan. Acting impulsively, he turned left toward the parlor, wanting a bit of privacy with her. He opened the door, and allowed her to precede him. She swept past him, the fall of her skirt brushing against his thighs and the sweet scent of her rushing to his head. She wore a ruby colored evening gown which bared the creamy skin of her shoulders, and her glorious mane of hair was upswept in an intricate style. She appeared the ravishing and genteel English lady.
“You look beautiful.” And her scent…she smelled like wild flowers.
Her eyes widened ever so slightly, then a pleased smile curved her lips. “Thank you. I never thought you would come.”
“I’ve been busy.”
An elegant eyebrow arched. “There is not that much work to be done. With the cattle being driven to market, and the timber already cut and sold from last month,” she pointed out with irrefutable logic. Before he could answer, she turned away and sauntered to a few leather bounded books sprawled onto the Aubusson carpet in the center of the parlor. Instead of sitting onto the sofa, she sank gracefully onto the carpet, the skirt of her gown folding beneath her.
“Will you join me?”
Curious he went over and lowered himself to the carpet, resting his back against the sofa.
Gripping a ledger, she held it up. “I thought you would like to see how the ranch is doing. These ledgers show all the livestock sold for the last year, the profit made from timber, and the loss at the mines.”
He took the ledger and flicked through the information, recognizing her handwriting. He was surprised to see the suggestions for improving the work conditions in the mine in her hand. The Whispering Creek along with the Triple K both owned shares in one of the only coal mines in their territory, their main customer being the Union Pacific Railroad. With a frown, he observed the notations she made dated back to more than two years.
“You are very thorough.” Elijah remembered the admiration and respect he had heard in Tom’s voice when he had pointed out that the efficient way the ranch was being run was Mrs. Galloway’s doing.
She canted her head to the side. “That I am. You will find the profit statements for the last two years in this book,” she said, handing him another. “I thought…I thought you should look on how our spread is doing.”
Ah…it was her way of reminding him how invested she was, and it was becoming clear to him Sheridan had been the brains behind the operations of Whispering Creek, and the money too. He’d never associated her with wealth before. When he’d first met her, she’d just been a young lady of nineteen years living on a too remote ranch. He’d thought her to be Thomas’s ward, because no one had called her the Senora. She had seemed so beautiful and untouchable. But her loneliness had been so haunting. It had drawn him to her, and he had warred with the desire she wrought in him. But he still did not know what had made him watch her with such discreet protectiveness.
After he had kissed her that first time, he had known loving her would be inevitable. He’d planned marriage even though his gut had warned him to stay away from her, and his nightmares had come to life, stalking him during the days. But being in her arms, planning a life with her had somewhat doused the terrors. She had been so fresh, so vibrant, the pain had leeched from her eyes, and he’d seen what the land meant to her, and what having a home meant to her.
“Why don’t you take a room in the main house?”
He forcefully dragged his thoughts from the past and met her regard. Her gaze was direct and curious.
The temptation of you. “It is easier for me to spy anyone coming onto the ranch from the bunkhouse.”
Her eyes warmed in gentle amusement, and a knowledge of her feminine appeal. Then she leaned forward and touched him, a gentle stroke of her finger that jolted Elijah. “I would feel safer if you were close by. We do have several empty bedrooms.”
Not addressing her invitation, he tipped back his head and stared through the open windows facing the eastern side of the range. The night sky shimmered with thousands of stars and his skin itched to be out there on his horse, just riding, perhaps with her beside him. Beneath the layers of emptiness, a rush of need to simply hold onto her and dance beneath the stars gripped him. Sheridan had always loved dancing, and in fact had taught him the steps to many, including her favorite—the waltz.
“Elijah?
”
“Yes.”
“Move into the main house. This is your home too…”
And the hell of it was, he needed to be closer. For the last couple of nights, he had been stalking the ranch while it slept, the desire to be nearer an itch under his skin, if only to ensure no one was slipping beneath his guard.
“And I would sleep better for knowing you are nearer,” she said quietly, as if sensing his battle. “I…I keep waiting for Mr. Sullivan to act.”
So was Elijah. He had even sent a rider to the Triple K ranch to alert his brothers he may have need of them. He believed in being careful and he wanted one or both there to protect Sheridan if needs be. Out on the range there had been no signs of cattle rustling, plugged or poisoned waterholes, or destroyed fencing. Everything had seemed perfect, the meadows rich and rolling. Yet, his heart had jerked in disquiet, and he’d felt the premonition, that this was the calm before the storm. “I’ll move inside.”
She touched his arm lightly. “Thank you. Let’s play some poker,” she said with a secretive smile playing across her lips. “I haven’t had the pleasure in a while. Beth is more interested in whist.”