Sullivan: Cowboy Protector: The Kavanagh Brothers Book 4 Page 3

“Done what?”

  Sheila took a step toward him. “Let him take our only real way to escape. I’m wondering if I shouldn’t just take Becca and leave. I don’t think this will work out. I know you’re putting your neck out for me, but your decisions make me nervous. Maybe we should take our chances and go home.”

  His face was full of dread and compassion.

  “What? Something has happened. Tell me,” she insisted.

  He took another step until he was right in front of her. He put his warm hands on her shoulders. “There’s no easy way to tell you. Your house and barn were burned down last night. From what I heard, there isn’t anything left.”

  Her stomach churned. The enormity of her loss encompassed her, and her legs began to shake. Everything was gone. How was that possible? She wanted to cry out, she needed to cry out, but Becca was sleeping. She placed both hands over her mouth to keep her sobs in as she wept. Sullivan pulled her to him, and she cried against his chest. She’d been so annoyed at him, and he’d been doing everything to help them. Maybe she was just an awful person.

  She was able to cry because of his strength. She’d had to be the strong one for a long time and her emotions felt like a disastrous storm. Sullivan held her and murmured soft words to her like the friend she knew him to be. It wasn’t easy for her to lean on someone else. But she was blessed to have Sullivan.

  He sat her down on one of the four wooden chairs in the cabin. It felt cold and lonely without him so close.

  Sheila swallowed hard. “If I had done things the way I wanted Becca and I would probably be dead. I’ve always followed my intuition, but now I don’t know what to do anymore. When it’s safe, I’ll dig up my money and go north to a different state. I can find a job. If I change my name and stop being a healer, they won’t find me.”

  “Whoa, there. You’re thinking too far into the future, and there is nothing but what ifs in your thinking. I believe in looking ahead, but we need to survive where we are first. You never know, maybe the men who burned your house will go to prison. You have friends you can rely on.”

  She shook her head as tears still poured down her face. “I don’t have friends except for you and Widow Muse. I heal when I’m called, but other than that most folks don’t feel comfortable around a woman who has had a child without the benefit of marriage. I never knew why I couldn’t go to school with the other kids. Figured our family must have done something horrific at some point. I didn’t realize my mother suffered too. She suffered even more when I came home barely able to stand after that man... I didn’t understand at the time why she’d bemoaned my fate.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You have been good to me, and I’ve tried to fight you the whole way.” She gave a sad shake of her head. “I’m the one who is sorry. I just think about myself.”

  He gave her the merest of smiles. “You always think about Becca.”

  “So, what shall we eat that we don’t have to cook?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “I have canned beans.”

  “Canned beans it is. We’d best set everything out so we know where it is. It’ll be dark in here come nightfall. What about rifles? Did you bring one for me?”

  “There’s two.” He stood and checked the shutters. “It’s a sturdy place.” Next, he got out the beans, three tin plates, and forks, and he put a bucket of water on the table. He unrolled his bedroll and set both rifles on the mantel. “I know it’s not the best situation, but we’ll need to use the pail in the corner instead of the outhouse.”

  “It’ll be fine. I’m thankful we have a safe place to stay.” She gave him a watery smile. “I’m usually not much of a crier. I… well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll get our night clothes out and put them at the bottom of the bed. What else do we need?”

  Sullivan grabbed down three tin cups from a makeshift cupboard.

  “I don’t understand,” she mused out loud. “If the child was dead before she was brought to me, then why blame me? I tended to Jenny many times. She was a clumsy child and she always seemed to have a broken bone. They never went to the doctor, though, not even when that young Dr. Bright set up practice.”

  “That is odd.” Sullivan frowned. “Maybe he needed someone to blame and it was you. Seeing a person burn is unspeakable. I’m not saying it was right, you understand. I’m just thinking out loud.”

  “Nothing justifies burning down my house!” She stood and limped to one of the windows, hoping to see outside, but the place was built to withstand any attack and there wasn’t a crack in the shutters to spy out of.

  Sheila was not one to sit and relax. There was always something that needed doing.

  “Did you bring along your needlepoint to work on?” He sounded hopeful. He probably couldn’t stand her restlessness.

  “I don’t do needlepoint. And even if I did, I was too busy running for my life to do it. Don’t get me wrong, I make nice clothes, but I don’t have time to make fancy needlepoint pictures to put up on the wall.” She stopped and shook her head. “Not one sister in that big family of yours. You have peculiar notions of what women do. I grow many plants and herbs and what I don’t grow I forage for in the woods. I like to have some medicines already mixed. I also try to teach Becca about plants. She’s starting to recognize a few. I grow what we need to eat, and I have traps set. I hunt when I can. Chopping wood takes a lot of time too. Then there is the cooking, and clothes need washing. I mostly get paid in meat or some type of food.”

  “So, the needlepoint idea is out?” He grinned at her, and for a moment she thought her heart would stop. He was such a handsome man. “I threw a few books into my things. Maybe we can read them later.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if he could read in the dark, but she didn’t want his grin to go away.

  “Mama, I’m hungry.”

  And just like that, the spell was broken… even if it had been a one-sided spell.

  * * *

  All he heard all night was tossing and turning. She wasn’t sleeping one wink, and neither was he. The bed creaked again, and he’d had enough. Throwing off his blanket, he got up, lit a nub of candle, and went to the bed. Her eyes widened in panic.

  “I won’t hurt you. I just thought since we both can’t sleep, maybe we could talk. It might help you fall asleep.”

  She hesitated, then she nodded and slipped out of bed. She took an extra blanket to wrap around her.

  Sullivan set the candle on the hearth. It flickered dimly, and probably wouldn’t be enough light to draw attention seeing as they’d kept the shutters closed.

  “It’s strange to sit in front of the fireplace when there isn’t a fire,” he observed.

  “I was afraid I’d wake Becca with my constant movement. I can’t get the thought of everything burning in a fire. Most can’t be replaced. My recipe book for medicine was my great grandmother’s, and we each added to it along the years. My mother’s things are gone. I remember how she saved and saved for one of those big copper tubs. Her smile when she bathed in it was one of bliss, and I had never seen it before. I saved all of Becca’s baby clothes, some had been mine…” She put her elbows on her knees and dropped her head into her hands. “Truthfully, there isn’t much money buried. We’ve had a few lean years, but we always get through without complaint. We give our thanks and praise to God.”

  “I don’t believe in God anymore,” Sullivan said quietly. “A person can only rely on themselves and what makes sense. I saw so many young boys die because they thought they knew better. I was the captain in charge, and I’d tell them the plan. I would even draw it in the dirt with a stick for better understanding, and I can’t even count how many young men thought they knew better than me and ended up… I’m sorry I’m not painting a very pretty picture. I used to pray… It never helped.”

  “You’re still alive.” Her eyes bore into his until he glanced away.

  “That’s part of the problem; I never asked to be saved.” He swallowed h
ard. He’d never talked about the war to anyone before, and now here he was spilling his guts. She was too delicate to hear his words.

  “I kept hoping there wouldn’t be a war. Luckily my house was tucked into the forest. I was never bothered. I made a holster for myself and kept it on a belt around my waist. I carried it everywhere. Sometimes I still feel as though I’m not completely outfitted without it.”

  “It’s good to hear you didn’t suffer at the hands of the soldiers. How come you never came to school? I saw you once in the general store, and then I’d only catch a glimpse of you now and then.” He’d looked for her everywhere he went.

  She straightened up and stared into the empty fireplace. “Someone asked if I could turn a boy into a frog. I told my Ma, and I was never allowed to go back…” Sadness tinged her voice as it dropped off.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I just wondered is all. If we weren’t at school, we worked the ranch. I never wanted to do anything else. It’s in my blood.” He turned his body facing her and took one of her cold hands in his. “Is healing what you wanted to do?” Reaching out, he drew the other hand into his as well. “You’re so cold.”

  “The shock of it all, I suppose.” She looked as though she was trying to smile, but it didn’t happen. “I was never told I could be anything else. My fate was sealed when Becca was conceived. No man would have wanted me heavy with child. By the time of Becca’s birth, my name was so muddied, I kept to myself. It was always better that way. I’m good enough to save their kin from death, but not good enough to be acknowledged in a kind way. It’s the way of things. It has been for generations.”

  He gave her hands a light squeeze and let them go. “I’m sorry. I’d have thought people would be grateful to you.”

  “It’s good you came back unhurt. From the war. I bet your family was happy to see you.”

  He smiled. “They asked if I had any wounds, and when I said no they tried to wrestle me. Dolly took after them, but when the next brother came home, we all did the same thing to welcome him back. I don’t have any wounds you can see, but I’m not the same carefree man I was before I left. I knew how to ride and shoot well, and I was moved up in the ranks until whatever I did got men killed. Sometimes it felt like a noose around my neck getting tighter.” He needed to lighten the conversation. “I’m here, and that’s what matters.”

  “Yes, it is.” She sighed. “Sullivan, how am I going to heal others without the plants and roots I need? What about my livestock? Did they make it out of the barn? Is my garden demolished? Part of me wants to run as far as I can, and another part wants to stay and fight.”

  He plucked her from her seat and set her on his lap, putting his arms around her. “We’ll get it all figured out. Don’t worry, I won’t allow you to be left with nothing.” She smelled of lavender, and he wanted to run his hands through her dark curls, but he set her back on her feet instead. “Let’s give sleep another try.” His heart was warmed by a real smile spreading across her face. She was feisty as all get out, but she was also vulnerable. It had taken all of his control not to kiss her. She wouldn’t welcome it now… or maybe ever. Some women when treated so cruelly didn’t want a man to touch them.

  Chapter Five

  They had been inside the cabin for a week, and it hadn’t been as bad as she’d imagined. Sullivan was a very polite and generous man. She was delighted and grateful for his friendship. He’d read books out loud to entertain them. They’d decided that making a fire would be fine. Actually, Sullivan decided, and it chaffed a bit. She was so used to every decision being hers and it was hard to be told no.

  Becca liked him. He’d sat on the floor with her and played. There wasn’t anywhere to go, but she was always at his side. Sheila waited for him to get impatient, but so far… he hadn’t. She’d often exchanged amused glances with him because of Becca’s antics. It was a treasure to share such moments with another. It’d filled part of the void in her heart.

  “Mama, I’ll have a cookie, please.” Her voice was on the demanding side.

  “No, Becca. Maybe after supper.” What had gotten into her child?

  “Sully said I could have a cookie! I want a cookie!” Becca was one hair away from a full-out tantrum.

  “Sullivan, was the cookie your idea?” She folded her arms as she subjected him to an accusing glare.

  “What’s the harm? It’s just a cookie.”

  She took back every kind thought she’d ever had about him.

  “Fine, both of you have as many cookies as you like.” She opened the door and left. How dare he? Just who did he think he was? Becca was her child, hers! A sob bubbled up and she walked away so she wouldn’t be heard. Her shoulders shook as she cried. This was no way to live. She’d done nothing wrong. Why should she have to hide? What gave them the right to burn her out? Why her?

  Oh Lord, what have I done? Have I displeased You so? I know getting pregnant without being married is my sin to bear, just as I was my mother’s sin. Why? Can I not change things?

  Dusk fell upon her rather fast, and she reluctantly went back into the house. As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Becca ran up and hugged her.

  “I sorry.”

  Sheila fell to her knees and grabbed up her girl. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have gotten mad and left.”

  “It scared me, but Sully said you would be back as soon as you were happy again.”

  Sheila didn’t feel generous enough to smile at Sullivan.

  “We ate supper, but we waited until you were here before we had one cookie each,” Sullivan said softly as he stared into her eyes. His kind eyes made her uncomfortable; they made her feel at fault.

  Standing, she lifted Becca into her arms. Sheila kissed her all over her face until her little girl giggled. Then she set her on a chair. “We might as well have the cookies now. I’m not very hungry.” After brushing Becca’s hair back from her face, Sheila went to the counter. She handed them each a cookie and then she sat.

  “These are good!” Becca said, squirming in her chair.

  Sullivan plucked her up and set her on his lap. Becca looked at him in adoration. She had never had a man in her life. Neither of them had. Sheila was out of words. Being grateful for this moment with Becca so happy was how she should feel. But she didn’t.

  He'd leave them one day, and she’d have to explain things to Becca. She was too young to understand, but her heart would feel it. He was too close to them. How was she supposed soothe Becca’s broken heart when her own heart hurt and she didn’t have any words for herself? The hurt was a reminder she knew better. Her whole life had changed.

  That evening, after Becca was in bed, Sheila stared into the flames, watching the wood burn brightly in colors of yellow, orange, and red. She needed to make a plan. She couldn’t stay here. She never thought they’d be here more than a few days.

  Lord, please show me the way. I’m trying to have a grateful heart, but I’m losing. It’s a battle I don’t know how to fight. I don’t want to grow bitter and old before my time. If You might help me change my fate… I know the women in my family have had the same story and mine has been the same until now. Ultimately, it’s Your choice, but a different town would be the best. I could work as a nurse, perhaps. I wish I had enough faith to just give You all my worries and know that it will all be fine. I have a lot of faith, but not enough. My worst flaw, but maybe I could change?

  What would it be like to have hopes and dreams? She was grateful for the way her life had been. Letting out a shaky breath, she pulled her gaze from the flames and glanced at Sullivan to find him staring at her. His eyes were full of concern and she didn’t blame him. She was concerned about herself too.

  “I need a solid plan. Perhaps if it was just me this wait and see approach would be fine, but I have responsibilities. I need to rebuild or go to another town. I don’t have the resources to do either, but the root cellar is probably still intact. That could be our shelter. There is almost always food to be had in nature.
The root cellar has food I had put up in jars.” She paused as a troubling thought occurred to her. “Oh, but the heat from the fire might have spoiled things. Maybe there are still some things growing in the garden. People lived that way before.”

  “What happens if it snows and you can’t get out of the cellar?”

  “We just stay inside until we can get out.”

  “You might not have enough air to survive.”

  She nodded. “I thought about that, and I’ll figure something out. If I can’t make that work, there is a cave not too far away that we can use. I am a child of God, and I am one with nature. I can survive. It’ll be hard. I’m not fooling myself thinking it will be easy. I just need to make it safe for Becca and me to return to our land. Tomorrow I will see the sheriff.”

  * * *

  He was quiet for a while. He had nothing to say that she’d be happy to hear. “If things were fair and right, your plan would be a good one, a sound one. I know you’re strong enough to survive, but I’m not sure the sheriff can help you. You don’t have any witnesses that they’re the ones who burned you out. Well, as of last week anyway. Things could have changed. If there aren’t witnesses, the sheriff won’t put any man in jail. But they might try to put you in jail because Jenny is dead.”

  The fear in her eyes tore at him, but he couldn’t let her go back unless she knew every danger. “The men you’d accuse are men who live in our community. If it had been a band of outlaws, there would have been a posse chasing them, but it wasn’t, and you may never get justice. Our winters aren’t particularly hard like some places, but there have been years when it’d been particularly cold, and you’d be taking a huge chance. Becca might not make it through.”

  She sat back in the chair and closed her eyes as though she was in agony. He took her hand in his. “I’ll help all I can. The best thing would be for you and Becca to live on the ranch.”

  “No. I refuse to be one of the strays your family takes in. You are all generous, but I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I did that. I will find a way.” She swallowed hard.