Sheridan dropped the drapes, walked over to the settee and sank in its comforting depths. She took the glass of lemonade, and sipped, savoring the tang of flavors bursting on her tongue.
Beth gripped her arm and squeezed. “Please consider what I have said, Sheridan.”
A lump grew in her throat. “We suspect Mr. Sullivan is the one who murdered Thomas, so he could marry me and be the one to control my money. That man cannot be a better choice than Elijah, even with his contempt.”
“I do understand, but I don’t think Elijah will offer you the protection you need,” Beth said softly. “He would more likely beat you if he ever discovered your plan.”
“I don’t believe him capable of harming me in such manner,” Sheridan breathed, guilt lashing at her. “But what will happen to me, to us without the surety of his protection? Mr. Sullivan grows tired of trying the soft way, today is proof of that. He threatened to rape me…to have his men—”
Horror darkened Beth’s eyes. She had firsthand knowledge of what happens to women with no protection. Sheridan pulled Beth close and hugged her fiercely, hating having stirred horrible memories for her.
Sheridan drew back. “Sullivan will take me by force. I have seen how he looks at me…how his men look at me.” Her throat tightened in remembered dread. “They will all—” She faltered, unable to voice the reality that waited for her, if she did not act. “It is a small blessing that he is willing to wed me, but his reputation for cruelty is too much.”
“I understand, and you are right. It was silly of me to even suggest you accept his offer. But what if Elijah refuses you?” asked sympathetically.
Sheridan swallowed, barreling past the uncertainty. “Maybe I can just explain everything to him. Elijah will understand if—” She broke off, stunned by the pity that showed from Beth’s eyes. Shame scalded Sheridan, because she doubted she had disguised the longing in her voice.
“What if he refuses to understand?” Beth murmured gently.
Sheridan understood what Beth did by questioning her. She forced her to analyze the harsh reality of the situation from all angles. Sheridan loved her even more for it.
“Could you make it back to England?”
An icy shiver rippled through Sheridan. “No. And even if I tried, I doubt Sullivan and his men would allow me to travel and escape them. And you and Grayson need me. This is my home, you are my family. I’ve tried to hire more men for fortify the ranch, and that did not work. I’ve been to the sheriff twice, and I was ignored. Our ranch hands have been hurt in trying to protect me and they have their own families to see after. The only option left is my plan to compromise Elijah.”
Beth sighed in surrender.
Throughout the Wyoming and Colorado territories, people feared and admired the Sullivans, and the Kincaids in equal parts. Mr. Sullivan was possibly wealthier than Elijah. But Sheridan did not care about such trappings. If she married Mr. Sullivan he would crush her pride, her will, and he would probably end her life when he tired of her.
Sullivan was t
hicker, taller and more brutish than Elijah. While Elijah also possessed a raw and powerful build, he did not frighten her. She’d never met a man that made her so aware of the differences between a man and a woman, only his strength had always made her feel protected. Everyone knew the Kincaid men were hard and scary, but when they decided something was theirs, they cherished it.
She desired to belong to Elijah wholly. To be known as his. She wanted it so bad she could taste it, a promise of his protection and love, a promise of having a home, of having children, and a life that was not a barren existence.
But she fully understood Beth’s reservation. Elijah would not be pleased to see her. Sheridan squeezed her eyes shut as she made the painful admission. It’d been three
months since she last saw him. It was at Thomas’s burial, and she’d waited in agonized silence to speak with Elijah, praying he would finally give her the chance to explain her actions. He’d been so cold and frighteningly impervious to her pleading, her teeth had chattered.
Sheridan couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the only place she’d ever felt like she belonged. It was easy to quit, to not fight, to give in to the fear. But she could not. She was stronger than fear. And Beth and Grayson relied on her.
It had been the loss of Elijah himself, which made her realize she could endure. That she was strong. But her feminine strength was not enough to withstand Jericho Sullivan, but her mental will was enough to face Elijah’s scorn.
Sheridan gently held Beth’s hand. “You must understand that I am not making a flighty decision. Our safety depends on what I do. Beth, a few months ago you told me that the west was lawless and savage. And to survive, a woman must find a man tough enough to protect her, and their children. I did not listen to you. I stood my ground, I resisted. I even shot three men that wouldn’t listen, but they only persisted. I am hounded at every turn. We are hounded. I need the kind of protection you told me about. There are other men I could possible marry, but Elijah is the man I love…and perhaps he loves me as well. I owe it to myself to find out.”
With those words her decision was final. She would seek Elijah for his protection.
But the worry did not leave Beth’s eyes. “You have never been to his cabin. And you are leaving in the night.”
“I will be fine, I know the terrain,” Sheridan murmured reassuringly. She rose from the settee and took up the carpet bag she had carefully packed with essentials from the center table. “Mr. Sullivan will return tomorrow. I need to go now and be back before he returns.”
Her throat clogged as she walked to the cradle. She dipped, pressing a kiss to Grayson’s sleeping brows, and inhaled his sweet baby scent. She slung the bag over her shoulder and slipped a pistol into its side pocket. They walked in silence through the large entrance hall and exited the back porch. She hugged Beth to her tightly, saying nothing. All that could be said had been said. Beth gave her a watery smile. Sheridan opened her mouth to implore her to be safe, but Beth’s finger halted her speech. Her red head shook, she softly spun, then slipped back into the house.
Sheridan waited in the shadows of the porch, watching for the four men. They could only cover so much ground of the property, but she needed to be careful. She walked with a measured pace, trying to make her steps as soundless as possible. She moved with stealth, knowing the lay of her home so well she did not need a lantern. She slipped towards the rear barn and waited a few minutes. Nothing rustled. A light flared in the distance and she analyzed it. Someone had lit a cigarette. At the barn door, she silently drew the pin from the latch and eased the door open. With sure feet she slipped into the barn and approached her horse.
“Easy, Sugar,” she crooned, saddling her sorrel mare with swift efficiency.
After ensuring the harness and straps were in solid order, she led her quietly out of the barn and turned toward Elijah’s mountain cabin, praying she was not making the most dangerous mistake of her life.