“He had a son, Senora.”
The cup rattled in her hands. God, had she ever known Elijah? He had a wife and a child who had been killed. Her hands tightened on the hot cup painfully. “The last time we rode the range…he had said he never intended to have children. I never thought…” she closed her eyes, praying that she hadn’t gotten pregnant from their cabin encounter. “I never thought he’d not wanted children because he lost a son. Why would he not tell me? How did they die Miguel?”
Indecision chased across his face. She placed her cup down and leaned toward him in earnest. “Please Miguel. I ask you not to betray his confidence, but only what would be common knowledge.”
With a sigh he stretched his legs out and clasped his fingers across his stomach. “This happened three years ago. When Elijah eventually came to the Creek and met you, it was because he needed to be away from the memories at Triple K. His family’s spread dwarfs the Whispering Creek three times over. He is one third owner, but he has not been home in a long time. He was holed up in his mountain cabin for months when I convinced him to visit here. Sayin’ I needed his input with Thomas being absent.”
Miguel was silent for a while and Sheridan restrained the urge to implore him to continue.
“I never expected him to react how he did when he met you, Senora.”
She was not sure if the quiet condemnation in his voice was directed at her or himself. “What happened, Miguel?”
He grimaced. “Over a dozen Cheyenne swept down on the Lazy S outfit where his wife and child visited Emma’s family. The Indians don’t normally take prisoners, but wanting to wreak vengeance how the whites did to their people they took six women and four children that day. Joshua Kincaid, Elijah’s brother, is the best tracker this side of the Mississippi, so they did not wait for the authorities. I was the only one that rode with Elijah, Joshua, and Noah. Many were too afraid at the knowledge they were hunting over twenty braves. But the Kincaid brothers did not hesitate. They went huntin’.”
She had heard about the horrors of Indian raids and her heart bled for him.
Miguel glanced at her. “Their captors had satisfied their blood lust and their carnal lust. All of the women had been raped, some many times. We caught up to their camp after one and a half day’s ride. The Kincaid brothers had no mercy and they became legends in these parts. It was only the four of us against a dozen seasoned warriors, but somehow we conquered. When it was all settled Elijah found his wife amongst the bodies. His son’s throat was cut and a knife had been plunged into her breast.”
Sheridan felt light headed at the suddenness of the blood leaving her head. “Oh my heavens, Miguel.”
“Their blood was still pooling around their bodies. They hadn’t been dead long. Elijah’s wife, Emma, was the only woman that had been killed, his son the only child murdered. Noah, his youngest brother, was the one that noted she was untouched. She had not been raped.”
Sheridan stared at him confused. “Why did they kill her then, do you know?”
“The Indians were not the ones that killed them, Senora.”
Sheridan struggled to understand. She looked down into his shuttered face and what she saw in his eyes had pain ripping through her. “I—”A deep foreboding settled into the pit of her stomach, and she wanted to stop him from saying anything further.
“She had taken her own life and their son’s. The other survivors confirmed it.”
Sheridan could not breathe for the longest time. “But he rescued everyone.”
“She did not wait, Senora.”
Sheridan did not think she had to imagine what Elijah dreamt about. Oh God. The pain would have been devastating. He would have reached her in time.
“I only tell you this because I see how you look at Patron. You cannot hide your hunger.”
Her face went hot with mortification. A denial formed on her lips, but the knowing look he gave her silenced her. “I had not thought I was so obvious,” she said softly.
He chuckled mirthlessly. “You are. From the moment he arrived here, you watched him like a filly in heat.”
She surged to her feet, blushing furiously. “I did not!”
“It was because I knew where Thomas’s interest lay that I did not warn Elijah that you were married. And I had never seen him give any woman attention after what had happened with Emma. When I saw the way he looked at you, it filled me with both hope and despair. Hope because I had though him dead inside after what happened. Despair because I knew he would never take a woman like Emma again to be his...If he ever took a woman as wife again, that is.”
Sheridan stumbled back, pain knifing inside of her. “Are you saying I look like his wife? That was the reason he…was with me?” Her throat burned and she fisted her hands at her side, her eyes unknowingly pleading with Miguel to refute her supposition.
“No, Senora. You look nothing like her. Emma was tall and elegant with the brownest of eyes and the fairest of blonde hair.”
Relief pulsed through her. “Then I don’t understand.”
“Emma was also a lady. From a fine family in Boston. Gently bred, not cut out for the savagery of the west. You both belong in fine mansions having tea parties and carriage rides. You should have maids to do all the work and servants to carry the food. Not live on the western plains where our womenfolk tend to these things themselves.”
“Oh!”
Women like you were not built for this land. For this life. The words Elijah had spoken resounded in her. He had not only been referring to her. Something went hollow inside of her. If he thought her fragile like his wife, he would never sell to her, or marry her. She moved almost sluggishly out of Miguel’s room, deaf to his calls.