River Song (33 page)

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Authors: Sharon Ihle

BOOK: River Song
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"There you go, son." Nathan pushed the glass across the desk. "Here's to another successful spring barbecue."

"I'll drink to that." Cole tapped his drink against Nathan's,
then
downed the potent liquid in one gulp. He shook his head, and grinned. "Where've you been keeping this stuff?" He pushed his glass across the desk, observing as Nathan refilled it,
then
settled back in his chair.

"I was saving it for a special occasion like your wedding, son." Nathan tossed his drink down,
then
banged the glass on the desk. "But I
figured,
what the hell. I can always buy another bottle if that day ever comes."

The Fremont men shared a hearty laugh,
then
Nathan leaned forward, his expression serious, his eyes slightly glazed. "I'm glad you stopped in, son. I been doin' a lot of thinking about you, the ranch, and the way you're dragging your feet about setting a date with Liz."

Cole's moment of relaxation was at an end. He straightened his spine and regarded his father. Nathan had been in the study longer than he'd first assumed, and had obviously finished the contents of another jug of whiskey before opening this "special" bottle. Making a note of his father's crimson cheeks, the flush spreading across his thick neck, Cole also determined his blood pressure was dangerously high for a man with his weakened heart.

"Come on, Dad," Cole suggested, getting to his feet. "Let's hit the hay. I'm bushed."

"Not so fast, son."
Nathan bellowed his laughter and directed Cole to return to his seat. "You're not getting away from me till I'm done with you tonight. It's high time you played fair with George Scott's gal. Your ma and I are kinda looking forward to moving to town within the year. Be a pure and simple change of residence once you and Liz take over the ranch. I hear she has a hankering to be a June bride."

Nathan wasn't going to be put off this night, that much was certain, but how much of the truth could his heart handle?
Especially in his condition?
Slowly, carefully, Cole tried to explain his position. "I don't know what Liz wants to do, and frankly, Dad, I don't care. I have no plans to marry her now or ever."

"Ah, come on, son. You two make a perfect couple, and together," Nathan winked and smirked, "you two would make perfect babies."

When his father's laughter subsided, Cole made a final effort to convince him otherwise. "I don't love Elizabeth. In fact, I didn't know what love was until I met Sunny."

"That damn
squaw
? Is that what's holding you back?"

Cole watched the color flare in Nathan's cheeks, saw the embers flickering beneath the dry tinder of his beard. "Calm down, Dad. Remember your heart."

"You
remember my heart," Nathan boomed, slamming his fist onto the desk for emphasis. "You think real hard about it before you bring up such nonsense as loving a damn
injun
, for heaven's sake."

Cole's jaw tensed at his father's words, but he knew better than provoke him any further. The time would come, and soon, but for now he would have to find a way to get Nathan to go to bed. "I'm too tired to talk about this tonight. Let's turn in." Again he started to rise, but his father's voice shoved him back into the chair.

"We're gonna have this out now, boy." Nathan tossed another shot of whiskey down his throat,
then
pointed a thick finger at his son. "I got no argument about your wanting that little gal. Hell, if I was ten years younger and in better health, I might take a stab at her myself."

"That's enough." Cole sprang out of his seat, his fists balled tightly in anger.

"Now, don't go getting you dander up, son. I only meant that I can understand your needs, what you're driving at."

"I doubt that you do. Goodnight, Dad."

"Hold on a minute."

Only the flush of Nathan's skin and the strange gargled noise bubbling in his throat, kept Cole in the room. He would listen, he would have to listen, but he vowed to keep his silence for now. Slowly turning to face his father, Cole shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and regarded him through cold, flat eyes. "What is it, Dad?"

"You're not thinking things through, son." Nathan wobbled to his feet, straining for balance. "What about your kids,
my
grandkids? You're the only hope your ma and I got to carry on our line. Think of that before you reject the idea of marrying Liz Scott."

Nodding, Cole conceded, "I'll be sure to think about it."

"Don't think you're outsmarting me." Nathan waved a wild arm harmlessly,
then
leaned heavily on one elbow.

"Dad, please. You've got to get some rest."

"Don't tell me what I
gotta
do. Here's what
you
’ve
gotta
do. Sleep with that dirty little
injun
if you have to, empty yourself in her savage body if you think that's what you gotta have, but hear me and hear me good."

Nathan looked up from the desk, his eyes bloodshot from his exertions, his pupils swimming from the whiskey, and pleaded, "Marry Liz Scott. Keep this little
injun
gal on the side if you just can't turn her loose, but make your babies with your wife, son. Give me the pretty white grandkids I crave. You deserve that much. So do
I
."

 

Sunny leaned against the door jamb of the study and took several deep breaths. Suddenly off balance, sick to her stomach, the words echoed painfully in her mind:
Sleep with that dirty
injun
,
 
keep
her on the side,
 
marry Liz Scot,
 
give me pretty white grandkids.

She'd been looking through the house for Cole, heard angry voices shouting from somewhere, and found herself standing in front of Nathan's study just a few moments ago. She hadn't planned to eavesdrop. She meant to turn away as soon as she recognized the voices. But then, she'd heard her own name and the nasty accusations that followed had frozen her to the spot.

Cole?
Sunny mouthed his name, waiting, wishing he would answer his father's outrageous demands and profess his undying love for her. But there was only silence.
Cole's silence.
Cole's concession.

She whirled
around,
moving on feet made of feathers, and ran blindly from the house. Once outside, Sunny caught her breath and made a dash for the barn, praying as she picked her way across the yard that Sean was inside. After pushing the heavy doors aside, Sunny waited for her eyes to adjust to the semi-darkness, then she scrambled up the ladder to the loft.

"Sean?" she called in a whisper. "Sean, please. Are you up there?"

Hay rustled,
then
Sean stepped out of the shadows. "Sunny? Is that you?"

"Yes," she whispered just as she launched her trembling body across the bedding straw and into his arms. "Oh, my brother, I have been such a fool."

Her tears fell, splattering the checkered fabric of his shirt, and Sean stood quietly waiting for the storm to pass before he inquired, "What troubles you so, little sister?"

But her sobs cut off her breath, made conversation impossible.

Sean dropped the gun he'd grabbed when the barn doors opened, and coaxed his sister to sit down in the straw. "Hush now. Relax and tell me what's happened."

Sunny leaned back, stared up at the ceiling, and took several gulps of air. More in control now, she sat up and murmured, "I do not belong here. Not for the two more weeks I had asked that you allow me, and not for any longer than this night. I wish to go home with you and Eileen."

"And you shall." Her pain cut into him as if it were his own. Sean draped a comforting arm across her shoulders. "Tell me, though. What has happened to hurt you so?"

But the cruel statements and thoughtless words she'd heard wouldn't form in
her own
mouth. "I have discovered that you were right, that I have tried to become something I am not. I do not belong here and I know I must go. If I stay, I will only hurt the man I love and tear his family apart." Sunny glanced at her brother, her expression emotionless, shocked, and asked, "Did you make arrangements to meet Eileen?"

He longed to comfort her, to tell her how wrong he'd been, but such a move would only delay the inevitable. The kindest thing he could do was take her away and allow her the time to heal, because he knew she would never forget. "I will leave soon. I have a two-hour ride to the Hobbs ranch,
then
I told Eileen I'd meet her at a nearby creek. If you're ready to leave now, you can stay up here while I go collect Whiskey and Paddy from the pasture."

"No. I need more time."

"I don't have more time. Once Eileen leaves that house, she will be alone and defenseless. I have to be there for her. I promised I would be."

"I know, and I do not mean to add more danger to your plans, but I must have more time. I must say goodbye to Cole."
In my own way, in my own good time.
She straightened her shoulders and held her head high. "Is there some place I might meet you two?"

Sean thought of arguing, of convincing her to leave with him now, but knew it would do no good. She had to follow her heart as he did. Shrugging, he plucked at the straw. "Do you know where the road from here forks just outside of Phoenix?" At her enthusiastic nod, he explained, "The road is thick with trees and shrubs, and has plenty of cover for you to hide in the darkness. If you leave two hours before dawn, you will have more than enough time to meet us."

"Yes, I know I can make it. I will be there."

"Sunny ..." Sean hesitated, taking her hand in his before he could continue. "I have to make sure you understand the risk to both Eileen and
myself
if we wait for you. If you aren't at the fork by dawn, we'll have no choice but to move on without you."

"I do understand, my brother." And, also recognizing that he needed reassurance more than she did, she smiled and promised, "Do not worry about me. When dawn unveils her first ribbons of light, you will see the happy face of your sister and all of her tears will have been shed."

Grateful for her insight, her willingness to put her own hurt aside and free him to go to Eileen, Sean leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "This Cole Fremont is the foolish one, not you, little one."

The corners of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. "I intend to make sure he knows that, too, before I leave this ranch."

With a hoarse chuckle, Sean unfolded his legs and stood up. "It's time I got moving. What will you carry as a weapon?"

"Those I brought with me. Pop's hunting knife is with Mike's clothes in my bedroom, but Grandfather's war club is in Nathan Fremont's study. I will have to sneak in there and get it."

Sean disappeared into the shadows and collected his belongings, then returned and searched through the hay for his discarded pistol. "What about a gun? Maybe I should leave this with you."

Sunny glanced at the pistol he offered,
then
shivered as the terrible memories flooded her; her near assault on Cole, the vicious stranger and his unholy plans for her, and the subsequent murder of the disgusting man by her own hand. She violently shook her head. "I have no use for a gun. Please take it with you."

"You're sure?"

"I am positive."

Bending down, Sean stroked Sunny's brow. "I'll see you at dawn. Take care."

She blew him a kiss, and whispered to his retreating figure, "You too, my brother. May the seven saints of Ireland protect and guide you."

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