Authors: Cheryl St.john
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Historical, #Western, #Historical Romance, #Series, #Harlequin Historical, #Westerns
They headed back along Main Street, the brims of their hats shading their eyes from the bright morning
sun. She couldn’t help checking the doorways and windows above the street. Jonas had always made
her feel secure. Knowing him…
loving him
…had been a balm to her lonely, aching heart. And without a
doubt, she did love him. That was why she had to protect him as fiercely as she protected Tyler.
Someone could be watching them right now, ready to put a bullet in his heart.
Royce had as much as admitted he was responsible for Jonas being shot. He wasn’t going to stop now.
He wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted. To calm the rapid increase of her heartbeat, she took a
deep breath. “I’ll be moving back to the house next week.”
She waited for his reaction.
His face didn’t reveal his thoughts, but he asked, “So soon?”
“I have to go back eventually. And you don’t really need me to do the books any longer. Your arm is
much better.”
“I thought you were avoidin’ bein’ improper and all that.”
“I’ll be hiring a companion.” What was she doing? Lying to him as well as to Royce? It would be too
unfair to go through the motions and hire someone and then disappear.
And there was no point in moving to the house, because once she had no income, there was no reason
to stay. She hadn’t earned nearly enough money. Royce kept cutting her time shorter and shorter.
Royce had most likely hired someone to shoot Jonas. The fact that Jonas wasn’t already dead was no
thanks to a lack of effort. As easily as that shot had come out of nowhere in the night, it could happen
again.
After her dream last night, she hadn’t been able to return to sleep. She’d lain in bed, later stared out the
window into the darkness, then sat in the chair and listened to Tyler’s breathing. And all the while she’d
been thinking. Racking her brain for a better solution.
The confusion and constant fear created by the whole situation nauseated her. It took all her strength of
will not to cry, not to pour out the truth. But she didn’t want to handle the consequences.
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There were only two choices.
Staying and buckling under to Royce’s demands, becoming his wife was an alternative she couldn’t
accept. Maybe it was selfish, but she couldn’t do it. Where would he stop? As long as she lived, he
would have ammunition to hold over her head—and over Tyler’s, as well. Even if she protected Tyler for
as long as she could, Royce might still ruin his life once he was a grown man.
The other option was to disappear. And it was still the best choice. It wasn’t only her welfare she was
looking out for, so it wasn’t entirely selfish. But she wouldn’t get a hundred miles without sufficient
money.
There was one thing she owned that would give her the capital she so badly needed.
She’d never gone back to sleep after that nostalgic dream. She’d sat in the darkness, wishing for a time
and place like she’d once known. A time of innocence and freedom. A place of security and acceptance.
In all the thinking, she’d decided what she must do to survive.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He pushed the brim of his hat back with a thumb and paused on the boardwalk to look at her.
She stopped beside him.
“Gonna forget the paperwork this mornin’?” The twinkle in his eyes told her he had something entirely
different in mind.
Her heart fluttered at the thought, but she pushed it aside. “A business proposition,” she clarified.
“Oh.” He shrugged. “What is it?”
“I’d like you to buy my share of the brickyard.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen the numbers you move around and I’ve tallied your deposits. If you can’t pay the entire
amount, you could borrow the rest. I assure you I’ll give you a good deal.”
“What’re you thinkin’?” he asked, putting a hand at his hip, his elbow cocked out. “Your share
guarantees you an income for life. Or as long as the company is sound, and I don’t see that changin’.”
“Only if I remain single. If I marry, whatever was mine becomes my husband’s.”
He frowned first, then his expression immediately changed to one of discomfort. “Don’t know what t’
say. You won’t let me talk about that. I’d marry you tomorrow if—”
“I know.” She raised her hand to silence him.
“There you go. Stiflin’ me when I go t’say it. What in tarnation do you want of me, Eliza Jane?”
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“I want you to buy my share of Sutherland Brick.”
“If you married me, and the share legally became mine on paper, or if I paid you for it, what would be
the difference? Except I wouldn’t want your shares. I don’t know the first thing about manufacturin’
bricks. I have my own properties and investments.”
Well, she’d stuck her foot in it now. She’d crossed into an area she’d never wanted to discuss. “The
difference is I’d have the money.”
“Well, there’s where your thinkin’ is clear as mud. Then the money would become mine instead of the
shares. Legally speakin’ is all.”
Frustrated, Eliza planted her feet and looked him in the eye. “We’re not marrying, you and I, so that
won’t happen.”
“But you said you wanted to sell your share so it didn’t become your husband’s.” It was plain that he
was aggravated enough to bite nails. He narrowed his gaze. “Are you talkin’ about marrying’ someone
else?
”
“I’m not talking about anyone, no.”
His frustration had been replaced by a flash of hurt, but immediately he masked his feelings with a
tightlipped glower. “So, what has all this been, Eliza Jane? You and me. What am I to you? Someone to
ease your grief and help pass the time till you’re ready to move on?”
“Here isn’t the place to discuss this,” she told him, glancing for the first time at the nearby windows of
the bank and at the hardware store across the street where Yale came out with a broom.
“Morning, Miss Sutherland. I trust your nephew is fine.”
“Yes, thank you. He went to school.”
“Let’s go talk in private then,” Jonas said from beside her.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? Runnin’ out of excuses? Or your interest in me just suddenly tumbled?”
“It’s not like that.”
He surged forward along the boardwalk, his boot heels hitting the wood in rapid succession. Eliza had to
half run to catch up to him. “Jonas, wait!”
He reached the door and held it open, stepping aside and waiting for her to enter the hotel. “You can
report to Ada this mornin’,” he said. “You’re right about my arm. I can handle the ledgers.”
She tried not to be hurt that he’d dismissed her from his presence. She’d been evasive and downright
mean with her lack of explanations and deserved his ire. He had every right to be angry. She’d never
wanted to hurt him, but she had. And still he remained her best hope. “Will you think about buying my
share?”
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“I’ll ponder it.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
Jonas watched her climb the stairs, a hard knot of confusion in his belly. As mad as he was, he could still
see past it to recognize that something was wrong. Here she was seeking money. Again. This time an
exorbitant amount.
He could come up with it, he figured. He didn’t know the exact figures involved, but he’d inherited his
father’s savings, was drawing interest from a big percent of his army pay, and had profits coming in from
three flourishing businesses.
But why did she want to sell so badly? What did she need money for? Why had she wanted to work in
the first place?
Heading back to the office, his thoughts straggled back to the conclusion he’d come to before: she was
planning to run away. He’d glossed over that assumption, but he’d been fooling himself. The theory was
believable. She needed money. She didn’t plan to be here come fall. And she had never planned for their
relationship to be permanent.
He still didn’t know who Tyler’s father was. If it was Dunlap, Jonas couldn’t stand by and let her take
his boy and run. Just being a jerk wasn’t a reason to lose your kid for life, but the way she behaved
around Dunlap made it pretty clear he was holding something over her head.
It was his nature to think over all the aspects. The boy deserved a father, but he needed a father that
showed him some love. Royce had never even shown the slightest interest.
And Jonas wasn’t convinced Dunlap was Tyler’s father, and if he was, that he hadn’t forced himself on
her. In that case, he didn’t have any rights.
Jonas had to make some decisions.
It ate at him all day, her refusal to let him in on what was going on. That night he again observed Luther
spending money in the saloon. Long about ten, his cash ran out.
“Think he went through five hundred dollars?” Jonas asked Quay.
“Pert near,” the man replied. “He has new duds, and this afternoon he brung gifts for the girls. Scarves
and such. Mrs. Holmes and Rowena left theirs on the bar.”
Luther’s popularity waned with his spending money, and by eleven, he grabbed his hat and left the
saloon.
Jonas walked out behind him and watched him untether his mount and ride off. From the doorway,
Jonas gave Quay a nod and turned to head home. A relaxing bath sounded good, so he heated water
and filled a tub, sinking into the steaming depths and closing his eyes.
Part of him wished Eliza Jane would come looking for him tonight. Part of him wished he’d never lost his
good sense and gotten involved. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand by. Maybe he’d been
too patient.
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He’d never be in this room again without thinking of her, without remembering their steamy lovemaking
and her ivory beauty in the gaslight. The more he thought about it—about her—the more he fumed.
Enough of her evasion; he was full up to his gullet with that foolishness. Restraining himself was the
hardest thing he’d ever done. He’d jumped into scuffles with men three times the size of that curvy
temptress, raised both fists and come out unscathed. Why was he holding back? He had no reason to
worry about scaring her off now. She was planning to go anyhow.
Releasing the water down the drain, he rose from the tub, dried and dressed, tucking in his shirttail
haphazardly. Grabbing up his hat, holster and boots, he dropped them off in his rooms on his way up to
the third floor.
liza was sitting in the chair near the table and lamp, unable to concentrate on the book in her hands. At
the firm rap on the door, she jumped, the book falling to the floor with a thud.
Tyler didn’t move.
She got up and padded to the door. “Who is it?” she asked, barely above a whisper.
“Me.”
Her heart jumped again. She opened the door and slipped out into the hall, pulling the door closed
behind her. Jonas’s dark hair was wet and standing in disarray. The clean enticing scents of soap and
man assaulted her senses. “Did you make a decision?”
“Nadine is gonna stay with Tyler while you and I go over a few things.”
She hadn’t noticed the slender young woman standing a few feet away in the hall. Her skirt and twisted
shirtwaist looked as though she’d yanked them on in a hurry. Eliza gave her a feeble smile. “What are
you doing?” she whispered to Jonas.
“We’re gonna talk.”
Not will you talk to me, not please let’s talk, but we’re going to. His bullheadedness had Eliza’s hackles
up. She’d had enough of men telling her what to do.
“We’ve pretty much said it all unless you have an answer about the shares.”
“Not all,” he disagreed. “You haven’t said anything that made sense yet,” he told her. “C’mon now,
before we make a scene in the hall.”
She hadn’t changed into her nightclothes yet, so it wasn’t that him calling on her was such an
inconvenience. She looked at Nadine again. “Thank you. I’m sorry you got dragged out of your bed.”
“It’s all right. I wasn’t asleep yet.” She raised a book that she’d been holding at her side. “I can read
here just as well as in my room.”
“Lock the door behind us,” Eliza told her and watched the young woman go into the room. The key
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turned in the lock.
Jonas gestured toward the stairs. She marched up ahead of him.
“This was uncalled for,” she told him as he opened the door to his quarters and stood back to let her
pass.
He locked the door and dropped the key into the pocket of his trousers. The air in the room seemed too
close, and she fought back a rising edge of panic. He meant her no harm, she was sure of that. But his
demanding behavior could make trouble for her.
“What’s uncalled for,” he answered, “is the way you’ve avoided comin’ right out and tellin’ me what’s
goin’ on.” He gestured to a side table. “Like somethin’ to drink? Sherry maybe?”
“This isn’t a social visit. Or a seduction,” she answered. “You ordered me out of my bed as though you
have the right.”
“Some things need discussin’,” he told her. “Like the reason you’re hell bent to get your hands on cash.”
“It’s actually none of your business,” she said, bristling.