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Authors: Joan Johnston

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BOOK: Sweetwater Seduction
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“Don't you ever get tired of playing that game?” Miss Devlin asked in a sharp voice.

“Nope.”

With nothing else to do, Miss Devlin watched him play. “You cheated,” she said.

“Who you callin' a cheater?” he snarled.

“I saw you with my own eyes. You took a card from the middle of the deck.”

“You can't cheat when you're playin' by yourself,” he argued.

“If the rules don't count, you might as well turn the cards over and pick out the ones you need,” she said acidly.

Levander's eyes narrowed and his lip curled menacingly. “Why don't you shut up and mind your own damn beeswax. I was doin' fine till you horned in where you wasn't wanted.”

“I simply don't understand how anyone could enjoy playing a game where there is no conceivable chance you can lose. Where is the challenge, Mr. Early?”

Outside the line shack, his back pressed against the rotted wood, Kerrigan felt his lips twitching. He gave in and grinned. Only a woman like Eden Devlin could find herself in a philosophical discussion with an outlaw over a game of solitaire.

The argument continued, and he was grateful for the distraction she was unknowingly providing. Felton was working his way to the other side of the front door, which they had discovered was the only way in or out. A moment later he saw Felton was ready.

Kerrigan signaled to Felton and then counted mentally,
One, two, three, GO!

They crashed through the door with their Colts in their hands, locating Eden before deadly bullets started flying at the outlaws.

Miss Devlin had a second to feel jubilation before she was grabbed by Levander, the lantern went soaring past her to crash on the floor in front of the two intruders, and the bore of a loaded .45 was jabbed into her temple.

She was appalled at the speed with which the four dull-witted outlaws found their weapons in the dark and brought them to bear on the two figures silhouetted momentarily in the growing fire caused by the broken lantern.

The gunfight was over almost before it began.

“Throw down your guns or I swear I'll blow her head off,” Levander shouted.

Kerrigan and Felton exchanged grim glances. Levander was going to kill Eden Devlin whether they threw down their guns or not. Felton left the decision up to Kerrigan.

Eden shook her head no. It was a slight gesture because the gun was pressed so tightly against her skull. “Don't do it, Kerrigan. You know he isn't going to let any of us live if you do.”

Levander grabbed a hank of Miss Devlin's hair and pulled so hard, she cried out in pain. “Hurry up, Kerrigan! I'm gettin' an itchy trigger finger here.”

Kerrigan couldn't take the chance that Levander wasn't bluffing. Eden might still get free if he kept the man talking, and he had his derringer in his boot. He let down the trigger of his .45 and dropped it on the floor. A moment later Felton's gun joined Kerrigan's.

“That's more like it,” Levander said with a smirk. “You two ain't so high and mighty anymore, are you?”

“Doanie, Hogg, come on over here and get their guns.”

“I can't move,” Doanie said. “Bullet broke a bone in my leg.”

“I got it in the gut,” Hogg said. “It don't look good, Levander.”

“Stick, you come get these guns,” Levander said.

Stick didn't answer.

“Stick?”

Doanie said, “He's dead.”

Miss Devlin closed her eyes against the pain of such waste. Her eyes flew open when Levander tightened his hold on her hair and pressed the gun into her cheek.

“I oughta kill you right now, right in front of their eyes,” Levander snarled.

A second later Levander felt a pair of hands go around his chest, and he was lifted off the ground. “What the hell?”

Bud, who had put out the fire caused by the broken lantern, had come up behind Levander and had him in a bear hug. “Y-y-y-you let the teacher be,” he said.

Levander's hand was caught in Miss Devlin's hair and he couldn't free it even if he wanted to. He kept the Colt pointed at her, since it was plain Kerrigan and the sheriff were waiting for a chance to grab their guns, which were still lying in plain sight in front of them.

“Put me down, Bud,” Levander ordered.

“L-l-l-let her go first,” Bud said, squeezing a little tighter.

Levander's hand suddenly came free of Miss Devlin's hair and he clawed at the burly arms that were crushing his chest. Miss Devlin started to move away and Levander warned, “Don't you move an inch, or I'll shoot. I swear I will.”

“C-c-c-can't shoot a teacher,” Bud said, his muscles bulging from the effort he was exerting.

The whites of Levander's eyes now showed, and it was clear he wasn't sure whether to keep the gun pointed at Miss Devlin, aim it at the two men in the doorway, or turn it on Bud, who was slowly but surely squeezing the life out of him.

“Bud, you gotta put me down,” Levander rasped.

“C-c-c-can't shoot a teacher,” Bud repeated. His grasp tightened.

Unable to breathe, Levander panicked. He swung his .45 around and shot over his shoulder at Bu

Everything happened at once.

Kerrigan dove for Eden, enfolding her in his arms and rolling them both out of harm's way.

Felton dove for his gun and rolled the other direction, ready to provide covering fire.

Bud grunted as the slug from Levander's gun hit him above the heart. “C-c-c-can't shoot . . .” His voice faded as he used the last of his strength to break Levander's back and slowly squeeze the life out of him. When Bud no longer felt any resistance from the man in his arms, he let go, and Levander toppled to the floor. A moment later, Bud fell dead beside him.

“Oh Lordy, oh Lordy, oh Lordy.” The littany of woe came from Doanie as he lay in his bunk.

“Poor Bud. Poor Stick. Poor Levander. Poor Hogg. All dead,” Hogg said, putting himself in the same class as the other dead men, knowing it was only a matter of time before his belly wound killed him.

“You ain't gonna die, Hogg,” Doanie said.

Miss Devlin struggled out of Kerrigan's arms and hurried over to kneel beside Hogg and Doanie's bunk. It only took a moment to realize Hogg was probably right. The chances were slim that he would survive. But there had been enough tragedy here tonight, Miss Devlin thought angrily, and surely the fates could spare this unhappy soul.

“Help me, Kerrigan. Maybe we can stop the bleeding. If the bullet didn't hit anything important, maybe we can save him.”

Kerrigan was nonplussed by Eden's attitude toward a man who had been one of those holding her prisoner, but she gave him a fierce look that warned him not to argue. He did what he could to help her with Hogg while Felton took care of Doanie's leg as best he could.

“There's room for both of them in the back of the spring wagon Deputy Joe used to bring me here,” Eden said. “We have to get them into town, to Doc Harper.”

“Eden, chances are—”

“Don't argue with me!” Eden said in a shrill voice.

Kerrigan could see she was near the edge. After everything she had been through, he could hardly blame her. He nodded to Felton to keep an eye on the wounded men and went out to harness up what animals he could find to the spring wagon. Eden made sure Kerrigan put the box containing the litter of kittens in the back along with Doanie and Hogg.

It was a long, cold trip back to Sweetwater. It was also a quiet trip. Kerrigan had started once to talk to her about the misunderstanding between them, but the knowledge that the two in the back of the wagon, and Felton riding beside them, would overhear everything he said kept him mute.

It was Eden who finally broke the silen they were nearing town.

“Whatever happened to Deputy Joe?” she asked.

“I don't know,” Kerrigan admitted. “Maybe you can tell us.”

“After he dropped me off with Levander and his gang, he said he was heading back to town. He said he was on duty at the jail and didn't want you suspecting anything. Didn't he get there?”

Felton shook his head. “His bed at the jail wasn't slept in.”

Eden turned and looked all around her at the snowswept plains, an eerie sight in the moonlight. He could be anywhere out there. “I warned him the weather wasn't fit for traveling. Do you suppose he's still out there somewhere?”

“Maybe. Could be he'll turn up when there's a thaw. Or he might show up as a bunch of stripped bones in the spring.”

“He was not a nice man,” Miss Devlin admitted. “He frightened me. What'll happen to Doanie and Hogg?” she asked the sheriff.

“They'll have to stand trial for rustling. Most likely, if they survive their wounds, they'll hang.”

“You don't have any proof they were the rustlers, do you?” Miss Devlin said.

Felton exchanged glances with Kerrigan. Kerrigan shrugged and shook his head. “Not without Kerrigan's testimony, we don't,” Felton said tentatively.

“Maybe you could find jobs for them instead.”

Felton stared at Miss Devlin. “I can what?”

“I am convinced that if Doanie and Hogg were given a chance to do honest work, they could both become good citizens.”

Felton rolled his eyes. He had spent enough time with Darcie to know there was no arguing with a woman when her mind was made up. “I'll do what I can,” he conceded.

“I appreciate that, Felton. I really do,” Miss Devlin said.

When they reached Doc Harper's place, Kerrigan helped Felton carry the two wounded men inside and then came back out, leaving Eden to arrange matters with the doctor, including care for the litter of kittens.

“Where are you headed now?” Kerrigan asked Felton.

“I gotta hire someone at the livery to go out tomorrow and pick up those bodies we left behind and bring them to town for burial. Then I'm gonna hire a rig to drive Darcie over to Canyon Creek. By noon tomorrow—” He looked up at a sky that was already turning pink with the dawn and amended, “—noon today, I'm going to be a happian.”

Kerrigan shook hands with Felton, and bid him good luck and Godspeed, envious of the excitement he saw in Felton's eyes as he looked forward to his wedding. “Are you and Darcie going to live in Sweetwater?” Kerrigan asked.

“It'll depend on what Darcie wants to do,” Felton said. “I'd like to. Good grass for cattle and plenty of water. Man could have a good life here.”

“Yeah, if he had the right woman by his side, keeping his house, raising his kids, it could be heaven on earth,” Kerrigan said as Eden came out of Doc Harper's office to join them.

“Hmmph!” she said, marching past Kerrigan without stopping. “I should have expected to hear such an expedient circumscription of the wife's role from someone as glib-tongued as you!”

Felton turned to Kerrigan and muttered, “Circumscription?”

Miss Devlin kept on walking but raised her voice to recite, “To constrict the range or activity of; to draw a line around; to surround by a boundary.”

Kerrigan grinned.

Felton rolled his eyes, tipped his hat at Kerrigan, and headed for the livery.

Kerrigan hop-skipped to catch up with Eden. “Where are you headed?” he asked, striding along beside her.

Eden stopped dead. She closed her eyes then opened them again, and turned to look up at Kerrigan. “I guess I was running away.”

“How about running toward me instead,” he said, his heart in his throat.

“I . . . I think maybe it's time we talked. Take me home, Kerrigan.”

 

Chapter 22

 

If she says “no,” you haven't asked
the right question—or the question right.

 

A
NEW DAY WAS DAWNING AS
K
ERRIGAN HELPED
Eden back into the spring wagon, made sure the lead rope by which Paint was tied to the rear of the wagon was secure, and climbed up beside her for the ride back home. The wind had stopped blowing—a unique phenomenon in Wyoming—and the sun rose toward a sky that was a clear blue as far as the eye could see.

There wasn't much room on the wagon seat, and Eden had to make a real effort to keep her thigh from brushing against Kerrigan's. She held herself rigid, refusing to give an inch. She had intended to wait until she was home before confronting the gunslinger, but after a very few minutes of poignant silence, she asked, “Is it true, what I heard?

Kerrigan knew that what he said now would make the difference between whether Eden forgave him, or gave him up. “What did you hear?” he replied in a deceptively calm voice.

“That you were paid to seduce me.”

The poignant silence returned.

“I don't know what to say to you, Eden . . . how to explain . . .”

Miss Devlin felt her stomach knot. It was true. Otherwise he would have denied it. “Why?” she whispered.

Kerrigan tried to meet her eyes, but she wouldn't look at him. Her hands were clenched together in her lap so tightly, the knuckles were white.

“It didn't seem so awful at the time,” he said.

Eden moaned.

He hurried to explain, “I had just met you once, and you were so full of spunk and vinegar . . . I wanted you from the moment I laid eyes on you, and I knew I had no business messing with the spinster schoolteacher. I guess I grabbed at the first excuse somebody gave me to see you again. I don't have any better excuse than that. I'm not proud of what I did. I'd give anything to go back and do things differently.”

She felt Kerrigan's eyes on her, demanding, compelling. At last she met his gaze. She searched his dark eyes, looking for something. She wasn't sure what. She saw pain. And confusion. And fear. And hope. “What kind of man are you?”

“I'm human. Sometimes I make the wrong choices. I swear to you, by everything that means anything to me, that when I made love to you, I wasn't thinking about anything except us. You and me. Nothing else. And I never let on to anyone that anything happened between us. As far as anyone in Sweetwater knows, I never laid a hand on you.”

Miss Devlin heaved a sigh of relief. She hadn't realized it mattered so much to her that he hadn't bragged about his conquest.

“I'm asking you to forgive me, Eden,” he said. “I meant the things I said about wanting you for my wife. About wanting to start a new life here in Sweetwater. About wanting to settle down and have kids with you.”

Miss Devlin blinked her eyes to keep the tears at bay. “I . . .” She gritted her teeth to keep her chin from quivering. “I want to believe you're sincere about giving up your gun and settling down. But I wonder if you can really do it.”

“I can. You have to believe I can.”

When Kerrigan still saw doubt in her eyes, he knew he needed some way other than words to convince her he meant what he said. He took Sundance's gun out of the holster and set it in Eden's lap. “Here. This belongs to you. I won't be needing it anymore

Eden stared down at the gun her father had used to kill so many men, then looked back up into Kerrigan's dark eyes, searching for the truth. Because she loved Kerrigan, she wanted to believe he no longer needed it. She wanted to stop running away from happiness and embrace it wholeheartedly. But the fear of losing him to a bullet was still very real. Very frightening. “Kerrigan, I don't—”

He could see he was going to lose her. “I promise you—I swear to you—that if you marry me I will—”

The instant Kerrigan saw the flash of sunlight off steel from within the copse of pine, instincts honed from years of living on the edge of danger came to the fore. He shoved Eden down below the floorboard of the wagon, out of the line of fire, and did a diving roll off the wagon seat into the underbrush beside the road. Seconds later several bullets thudded into the tufted seat, tearing jagged holes where their bodies had been.

Eden was stunned by how quickly Kerrigan had reacted. Still in shock, she stared at the gun in her hand, then looked over to where he was heading into the copse of trees from which the shot had been fired.

“Kerrigan, you forgot—” She bit her lip on the rest of her sentence. She didn't need to tell him he didn't have a gun. She was sure he'd already realized that fact. Yelling it out to him was only going to apprise whoever had attacked them that Kerrigan was armed with only his wits.

Kerrigan realized his mistake the same moment he took the flying leap from the wagon. Since his gun was always in his holster it hadn't occurred to him until he was in the air that he had put it in Eden's lap. When he finished his tumbling roll, he came up running on a diagonal toward the copse of pines where the bushwhacker was hiding. A bullet whined past his ear just as he reached the cover of the trees.

Kerrigan swore. It was obvious he couldn't get back to the wagon without coming under fire. And he was now too far away for Eden to safely throw him his weapon. He had the derringer in his boot, but that was only good up close. Eden was going to get her wish. He had no choice except to resolve the situation without a Colt. As long as his options were limited, he might as well give talking a try.

“Hey, Deputy Joe,” he shouted. “Is that you?”

“Yeah.”

“We thought you froze to death.”

“Nearly did. Got rescued by a drifting peddler. Damn fellow had bells on his wagon. Thought I was going crazy. Funny how things work out, ain't it?”

“How'd you know to wait here for me?”

“I went to the line shack and saw what you done to them boys. Figured you'd have to bring the schoolteacher home sooner or later.”

“It's all over, Joe. Too many people kn about you. You'll have a better chance of living if you give yourself up.”

“This is all your fault, Kerrigan. You gotta pay.”

Kerrigan kept Deputy Joe talking, all the time working his way closer, using the deputy's voice to try to locate him. He didn't have a plan, exactly, but if he could work his way in behind the man . . .

Every time Kerrigan thought he had Joe cornered, the deputy escaped his trap. It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and Kerrigan kept his eye out for a mousehole he could use if things fell apart and the cat took a swipe at him with its claws.

Eden was terrified. She had wanted Kerrigan to lay down his gun, but not like this. She didn't see how he was going to capture Deputy Joe without getting himself killed. She heard them talking to each other, their voices moving farther into the pines. She kept imagining Deputy Joe cornering Kerrigan, sighting down his gun barrel and firing his gun. She saw the red blossom growing on Kerrigan's chest, a mortal wound.

Eden's whole body trembled with fear. What she had really wanted, when she asked Kerrigan to lay down his gun, was a guarantee that his life would never be in danger again. If they lived in a perfect world, a civilized world, maybe she could have had her wish. In such a world, guns would be unnecessary. But this was not a perfect world.

Certainly Kerrigan would live longer if he made his living as a rancher rather than as a gunslinger. That much she could, and would, ask of him. Even then, there were bandits and rustlers and outlaws of even worse ilk roaming the Wyoming frontier. On the frontier, a gun was sometimes necessary for survival. She couldn't ask Kerrigan never to carry a gun again. That would likely get him killed someday when he needed a gun and didn't have one—like right now.

Eden knew now why her mother had stayed with Sundance despite the pain she must have known would come some day. Lillian had known that living without the man you love is no life at all. Now that she understood that, the choice became simple for Eden.

She climbed down from the wagon, anxious to get Sundance's Colt to Kerrigan. Voices reached her, Kerrigan's and then the deputy's, taunting each other. Moving as quietly as she could, she made her way through the pines.

Kerrigan had found his quarry. Deputy Joe was walking right toward the spot where Kerrigan was hidden behind twin pines, his gun held outstretched before him. All Kerrigan had to do was let the deputy walk past and relieve him of his weapon.

The crackling of underbrush off to the left startled them both. Kerrigan watched Joe swing his gun toward the sound. An instant later Eden stepped through the undergrowth holding Sundance's gun in her hand.

Kerrigan saw Joe taking aim and knew he had to do something fast. He stepped out from behind the pines and said, “You looking for me, Joe?”

Joe swung his gun around to aim it at Kerrigan. At the same time Eden realized the danger and quickly Sundance's gun, aiming it at Joe.

“Hold your fire,” she said. “Or I'll shoot.”

Joe was in a quandary. He could see Kerrigan was unarmed. But if he shot Kerrigan, Miss Devlin had threatened to shoot him. If he turned and fired at Miss Devlin, Kerrigan was liable to jump him before he could get off another shot. His best bet was to kill Kerrigan first and take the chance Miss Devlin would either not shoot at all, or miss on the first shot.

“Give it up, Joe. You haven't got a chance,” Kerrigan said in the same calming voice he had used on the boys in Eden's schoolroom.

“Everyone knows how Miss Devlin feels about guns. She ain't going to shoot me. You're a dead man, Kerrigan.” Joe cocked his .45.

“You're wrong about me, Deputy Joe,” Eden said, trying to keep her voice as calm as Kerrigan's and only half succeeding. “I'll kill you if I have to.”

Joe turned and sneered at her. “Don't make me laugh.”

“You've heard of a gunslinger named Sundance, haven't you, Joe?” Kerrigan asked.

Joe's head whirled back around to hear about this new threat. “Sundance? What does he have to do with anything?”

“Sundance was Miss Devlin's father.”

“Sheeeit. You're just saying that,” Deputy Joe said. But a sweat broke out on his forehead, and his eyes shifted back to Miss Devlin even though he kept the gun on Kerrigan. “He's makin' that up. He's gotta be makin' that up.”

“He's telling you the truth,” Eden said. “Sundance was my father. He taught me everything I know about guns.”

“Sheeeit. I don't figure to get myself shot by some gunslinger's kid, even if she is a woman.” Deputy Joe looked nervously from Miss Devlin to Kerrigan and back. “'Specially when you got no proof I did anything wrong. I'm gonna drop my gun, you hear? Don't you go gettin' trigger-happy.”

The instant Deputy Joe dropped the gun, Kerrigan was there. He stuck the deputy's gun in his belt and used his bandanna to tie Deputy Joe's hands behind him. He wasn't gentle.

Once he was done, Kerrigan grabbed the deputy by the elbow and hauled him over to where Eden was still standing with Sundance's gun in her hand, which was now hanging at her side.

“Eden?” he said. “Are you all right?” He took the gun out of her hand and discovered she was shivering. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, all the while holding a gun on Joe to keep him from making a run for it. “It's all right, love,” he crooned. “It's all over now. You're all

“Sheeeit,” Deputy Joe said. “You were never gonna fire that gun at me, were you?”

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