Authors: Cheryl St.john
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Romance, #Historical, #Western, #Historical Romance, #Series, #Harlequin Historical, #Westerns
call Jenny Lee “Mama,” a needle of agony had pierced her heart.
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Jenny’s limitations and need for help had been both a blessing and a private torture. Eliza had been able
to bathe him, feed him, care for him and eventually walk him to and from school. Doing so was a
privilege.
Tonight she thought of Moses in the Bible, who was raised as the queen’s son, but nursed and cared for
by his own mother. Her own situation wasn’t nearly as noble, however. The predicament had been
brought on by her impetuousness and foolish trust.
Jenny had told Eliza again and again what an amazing gift she’d given her. She’d been so thankful and it
had pleased her so to call Tyler her own. Royce had gone along without resistance. Eliza suspected
anything that kept Jenny pacified made it easier for him to work his subterfuge behind the scenes without
too many inquiries.
Eliza’s father had been much the same way with Jenny. Their parents babied and mollified her. Jenny
and Eliza each owned a percentage of the company, because Sutherland Brick had started out with Eliza
Jane’s mother’s money, and her mother had chosen the recipients of the holdings.
Eliza’s father had built the business from the ground up. Later on, Eliza had invested, and their money
had gone from income and savings to working for them and multiplying.
Jenny hadn’t cared in the least about the company or the money. Her world had been confined to her
rooms and the people she loved.
Sometimes Eliza wondered what would have happened if Forest had stayed. If he had married her, and
they’d raised Tyler as their own. Would she have remained at the factory or would she still have quit to
care for Jenny? In any case, she’d be able to claim Tyler. He would call
her
Mama.
She might have even had more children.
Oh, she was a foolish woman for giving rein to the what-ifs, but the nights were unbearably long.
A soft rap sounded on the door.
Eliza’s heart skittered. She folded back the covers and reached for her satin dressing gown on the foot
of the bed. Slipping it on, she padded to the door.
Jonas’s broad-shouldered frame and tousled dark hair were outlined by the gas lamp on the wall behind
him. “Come to my room,” he whispered.
Her body responded with a tingle of warmth and a rush of blood through her veins. “I can’t stay long,”
she whispered in return. “Wait a moment.”
She turned into the room, covered her child snugly and picked up the key.
In the hall, Jonas took the key from her and locked the door. Taking her hand, he led her down the back
stairway. In his sitting room, he’d prepared a fire and opened a bottle of sherry. He poured them each a
snifter and handed her one.
Eliza brought it to her lips hesitantly. She took a sip of the pale tangy liquid. The flavor was strong and
citrus-sweet with a nutty taste like almonds. “It’s good.”
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Jonas led her to the coverlet he’d lain out and took the glass from her to set it aside.
Without speaking, he reached for her gown and undressed her. After shrugging out of his shirt, he knelt
before her, cupped her hips and pressed kisses against her abdomen.
Eliza threaded her fingers into his hair and closed her eyes. She wanted to remember every touch, every
kiss, every sound and whisper and moment of their brief time together. Tears seeped from the corners of
her eyes, and she swiped them away quickly before kneeling to face him.
He rested his palm along her cheek and gazed into her eyes.
Eliza’s contrary heart wept with the keen adoration she felt for this man she could never have, for the
love she could never declare or allow.
“When I look at you durin’ the day,” he told her, “I think about you like this. In my arms. Under me with
your black hair in a tumble. Your lips red from kissin’.”
His words, plain as they were, were poetry and music to her empty soul, a soul that had yearned for
recognition and acceptance. His praise brought a lump to her throat.
“Just the lovin’ part isn’t enough,” he said. “I want you to belong to me.”
“Don’t,” she said around the constriction, and shook her head and lowered it so he wouldn’t see the
regret and shame washing over her.
He lifted her chin on a knuckle so their eyes met. “Don’t be ashamed. What I feel for you is decent and
honorable.”
“Oh, Jonas, I don’t doubt your honor for a moment. You’re the finest man I’ve ever known.”
“Then tell me what’s holdin’ you back. Tell me.”
“It’s nothing you could change,” she said. “I’m here now, and we have tonight. I know it’s unfair, but
this is all I have to give. Wanting you is wrong, but I can’t stop.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. “I don’t want you to stop.”
He worked his magic with his hands and his kisses, and Eliza gave back with her whole heart, hoping to
show him he was everything to her, wanting to assure him of her desire and her need for him.
He was tender one moment, demanding and urgent the next, the heat and his passion surprising her. His
fervent dedication to her pleasure and comfort brought more tears to her eyes. And he was still taking
care of her, carefully protecting her by not planting his seed in her.
Eliza wanted to cry, but feared if she started she’d never stop, and she didn’t want him to think he’d
displeased her in any way, because he hadn’t. She was the one who didn’t measure up. She was the one
holding back. She didn’t deserve his esteem.
The mantel clock chimed, and Eliza grabbed up her robe. “I have to go.”
He said nothing, but raised to a sitting position and grabbed his trousers, reaching into a pocket and
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producing her key.
She took it from him. “I’ll let myself out.”
He didn’t argue, and she was glad. She was nearly to the door when he spoke. “Sleep well, Eliza Jane.”
She slipped out and ran silently up the stairs, managing to unlock the door and let herself in before the
tears came. Eliza ran to her bed and huddled under the covers, holding her pillow to catch her sobs.
She closed her eyes against the memory of the question he’d asked so concernedly that first time, but it
rang in her mind.
“Did I hurt you?”
She cried until she feared she’d wake Tyler, so she calmed herself, turned the damp side of her pillow
under and arranged the covers. She wasn’t ashamed of loving Jonas, nor was she ashamed that she’d
loved Forest. But she’d been hurt and humiliated.
Her chest ached with a stab of regret and an entirely different kind of shame. Forest had left her without
so much as a by-your-leave. Left her to wait and wonder as the days and weeks and months stretched
out.
She was planning to do the same thing to Jonas.
He wanted a commitment. If she hadn’t silenced him every time he’d tried, he would have proposed by
now. But he was honoring her wishes. Loving her the only way she’d let him.
Too late she’d discovered a man who appreciated her and held her in high esteem. There was no way
anything could come of their growing feelings for each other. And no way she could deny herself the
pleasure she found in his arms.
She would never sleep well again.
Eliza hoped she’d masked her sleepless night by rinsing her face with cold water and by liberal
applications of witch hazel, massage cream and a dusting of rice powder. She served Tyler breakfast and
he sat at the end of a table with Matt, Daniel and Phoebe. Eliza fixed a plate and nibbled at the eggs and
a slice of ham.
Watching Tyler interact with the Harper boys, she was sure staying here had been a good experience for
him. He’d been able to stretch beyond his usual confines and participate in things a boy should. Jonas’s
attention had brought an enormous change to Tyler’s confidence. She wouldn’t regret the experience.
The boys finished and carried their plates to the kitchen. Tyler returned, grabbed up his books and his
sack lunch. “Bye, Aunt Liza.”
“Have a good day,” she told him with a smile.
At night he kissed and hugged her before bed, but here in front of the boys, he acted too old for that.
The three of them jostled each other, seeing who could get out the door first, and the sound of their
laughter and running echoed in the back hall.
“Shame they grow up to be men,” Phoebe said with a teasing grin. “They’re still so cute at his age.”
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“I heard that,” Ward said on his way to the kitchen.
Eliza finished her tea and took her dishes into the other room, where Lilibelle was giving orders for the
day.
When Eliza reached the office, Jonas was already seated at his desk, a mug of coffee within reach. He
held a small pouch in his right hand and squeezed it repeatedly. “Doc told me to work my hand and arm
with this bag of sand,” he told her, then tossed it down. “Sleep well?”
Visions of their lovemaking the night before brought heat to her collar and made her heart trip. His sly
expression told her he knew exactly what she was thinking.
The small room seemed to close in on her. If there had been a window, she would have opened it. “Did
you?”
“Not particularly.”
She sat, arranged the pen and ink on the blotter and opened one of the ledgers he’d stacked there.
“What’s first?”
The day passed unremarkably. Jonas left to attend a meeting with the town council members and
returned after lunch.
Eliza checked her brooch, and when it was time for the boys to return from school, she went to the
kitchen and prepared them slices of bread and butter and poured cold buttermilk.
Ada arrived and they sat together at the table, waiting.
Lilibelle and the kitchen help worked their dinner magic around them. Eliza and Ada chatted. Finally,
Ada stood. “What do you suppose those boys have found to occupy them for so long? They know
chores are waitin’.”
“I’ll go check,” Eliza told her, making her way out the rear door that led into the alley and headed west
behind the dry goods store. She walked all the way to the schoolhouse and found the door standing
open.
Miss Fletcher was erasing the blackboards when Eliza entered the classroom. She turned with a
greeting. “Well, hello, Miss Sutherland. What brings you here?”
“Tyler and the Harper boys haven’t come home yet, and I thought they might still be in class for some
reason.”
Frowning, the teacher brushed her hands together. “Tyler, Daniel and Matthew weren’t in class today. I
thought they’d all come down with something.”
Eliza absorbed the teacher’s words. “They never came to school?”
Miss Fletcher shook her head. “No.”
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T
he boys had never arrived at school?
“What?” Panic rising, Eliza turned back toward the door. “I don’t understand. Ada and I sent them out at
the usual time.”
The teacher gave a disapproving shake of her head. “You might look at the nearest fishing hole. It’s a
bright spring day, and even the finest of students has been known to be lured away by the weather.”
“Tyler doesn’t know the first thing about fishing,” she answered, hurrying from the small building.
Eliza ran the entire way back to the hotel and burst into the kitchen. “They never went to school!”
Ada got up from the table. “You’re sure?”
“Miss Fletcher said they didn’t arrive this morning. She thought maybe they went fishing.”
“Daniel and Matt know I’d skin them alive if they played hooky,” Ada said, hands on hips.
“But maybe?” Eliza asked.
Ada raised both hands and tilted her head. “Maybe.”
Eliza hurried back to the office, but Jonas wasn’t there. This time of the afternoon he sometimes spent a
couple of hours at the saloon. She ran out the front door and along the boardwalk. Out of breath, she
pushed open the green batwing doors.
Jonas sat at a table with Quay and two women dressed in plain skirts and shirtwaists. One of them Eliza
recognized as Madeline Holmes. “Somethin’ wrong?” Jonas asked after one look at her.
“Tyler and the Harper boys didn’t go to school this morning. Miss Fletcher said she hadn’t seen them all
day. She thought maybe they found a fishing hole.” Her mind ran through worse possibilities. “What if
they found one of those poisonous snakes and it bit them?”
“Wouldn’t bite all three of ’em at the same time.” Always logical, Jonas got to his feet. “Someone
could’ve run back for help if one got bit. Most likely they’re fishin’.”
“Do you know where?”
“I can figure it out. Would he try to find Willie’s place so he could see the horse again?”
She pressed a knuckle against her lips as she considered. “It doesn’t sound like him, but he’s never
missed school before, either.”
Quay stood. “I’ll saddle our horses, boss,” he said on his way out the door.
“Rowena,” Jonas said, turning to the red-haired woman across the table. “Go find Marshal Haglar and
let ’im know we’re lookin’ for Tyler and Ada’s boys, will you?”
“Sure thing.” She rose and headed for the door.
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