Eden's Sin (4 page)

“
Anything you need, I’m here,” Cormac said.

“
Yes, one more thing.” Sinclair leaned in close. “A rape was reported to me this morning.”

“
Mary Rose.”

“
Yes. What do you know about that?”

“
Not much. Just the poor lass was walking back to town when it happened.” He nodded toward the back of the saloon. “Eden is the person you need to ask. She's been taking care of Mary. Even paid for some fancy school in Kansas City.”

“
Eden?”

McGrady
pointed to the
Garden
sign.

Ah
. “So she's the madam?”

The Irishman nodded.

Sinclair looked around the room. “Which one is she?” A night with a talented whore should make him forget all about Miz Gabrielli and take his mind off once again being his father’s political pawn.

“
She's cooking tonight. Come on. I'll introduce you.” McGrady pushed away from the table. “Mary Rose is a sweet girl. If you need any help once you find the bastard…” He cracked his knuckles.

“
Much as I agree, if I find him, he'll have to go before a judge. Vigilante justice only breeds more violence.”

McGrady
shrugged. “You know as well as I do violence is all some men understand. And with no sheriff in town, vigilante is what they get.” He turned and strode toward the back.

Unfortunately,
Cormac spoke the truth. The army couldn't uphold the law in the West. Too many little towns dotted the landscape, too far from a fort for help. Towns like this needed a full-time sheriff.

“
Eden?” McGrady led him into the kitchen. “There's someone here needs to speak to you.”

Heat from the iron cook stove smothered the room.
Warm, delicious smells of yeasty bread and frying pork reminded Sinclair he hadn't eaten today. Pies sat cooling on a sideboard, two pots bubbled with soups, and coffee boiled in the pot.

A
shapely woman bent over the oven door. A deep purple skirt hugged the curve of her attractive bottom. Slender, bare arms slid a pan of rolls into the heat, then she stood and stirred a pot of soup.

“
What is it, Cormac? I'm busy back—” The woman turned then froze. Pale green eyes widened, and the spoon clattered to the floor. 

Surprise
tore through Sinclair like a bullet. Gone was the refined woman from this morning. Here stood a lush, earthy creature, dark hair spilling from its pins, blouse gone, just a corset covering a pale blue chemise and her full . . .
damn
.

Just as he'd suspected, she had been hiding something.
Something besides well rounded breasts. But…
Christ.
He swallowed hard. He’d never suspected her secret was this.

She was a
madam.

“
Major Bradford.” Her voice quaked, but she straightened her spine as if going into battle.

“
Miz Gabrielli.” He let his gaze drift over her. Had her lips been as full this morning? Her breasts sure hadn't been so prominently displayed.

He reined in
the surge of lust hardening his body and reminded himself she’d lied to him.
Lied.
Shit. Did he have no sense of judgment when it came to women? His pride couldn’t take another beating – Coreena had damn near beat it to death during their marriage.

“
You two know each other?” McGrady looked from one to the other. 

Miz
Gabrielli's throat convulsed, but she said nothing.

“
Yes, she came to see me this morning.” Pretending to be everything she so obviously was not. Thank God he hadn’t asked McGrady if he knew a sweet woman by the name Gabrielli. The Irishman would have laughed himself silly. “Though she looked a little different.” He narrowed his eyes as he delivered the barb.

She at least had the good grace to blush. Unfortunately it turned the swells of her breasts a tempting
shade of pink, made him wonder if she blushed all over.

“
I—I spoke with the major about Mary Rose.” She talked to McGrady, but her soft voice brushed over Sinclair like a caress, a tempting, will-weakening caress. “You know Stevens or Parsons refuse to do anything.” She bent to retrieve her spoon.

McGrady
nodded. “Yes.”

Sinclai
r glanced at the Irishman. “Thank you for showing me to the kitchen.” If the big man was half as smart as Sinclair suspected, he'd leave. Because with or without an audience, Miz Gabrielli was going to explain herself.

“
All right, yes, my supper will be waitin'. Major, will I see you tomorrow?”

Sin
clair nodded, but kept his gaze on the corseted temptation across the table. “Yes, tomorrow.”

McGrady
turned to the door. “Eden, give Mary Rose my best.”

“
I will. And tell Adella hello from me.”

McGrady
strode from the room.

Sin
clair took two deliberate steps toward Eden. Close enough to see the fire in her eyes, close enough to feel the heat of her body. And Christ, she smelled good—would she taste good?

Damn.
Stop thinking about her body
. What the hell was wrong with him? He should be angry at her for lying. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about stripping off her corset and sucking her nipples through the cotton of her chemise.

Hell.

He inhaled a slow, deep breath. He'd just been too long without visiting the Fort Hayes brothel. That was all. And he was angry.
He was.

“
Well,
Miz
Gabrielli.” He took one more step toward her, ignoring the sweat trickling down his back. It was just the heat from the stove. It was not the way her breasts were pushed high in her corset or her long, bare arms.

She raised her chin just a little, daring him, holding h
er spoon like a weapon as she lifted a finely arched brow at him.

“
Well, what?”

He swallowed.
“It seems we have several things to discuss. Shall we start with why you didn't tell me who you are?”

Anger
tightened her delicate features. “I told you who I am.”

Another lie.
He took another step, gritting his teeth against the old hurt, the old resentment.
She’s not Coreena.

“
Oh? I don’t think so.”

She
slammed the spoon onto the table. “What you really mean is, why didn't I tell you
what
I am.”

He leaned forward, towering over her.
“I already know that answer. What you are,
Madam
, is a liar.”

Chapter Three

“
I am not!”

The urge to slap the smug expression from Major Bradford’s
face made her fist her hands. How could she ever have thought she could depend on him to help, thought he wouldn't find out who she was?

“
I did not lie to you, Major.” But he would see it that way, which meant he would never help Mary. Tears thickened her throat. Damn it all. Once again she’d let someone down, someone who needed her.

He scoffed.
“You didn't tell me you owned this…
establishment
. So I have to wonder what other things you lied about.”

“
You didn’t ask where I worked.” She poked him in the chest with her spoon, her anger building. “You asked where you could find me, and I answered that I'd rather return to your tent. There is no lie in that. None.” She gave another poke, ignoring the tight set of his jaw, and the hard muscles beneath his uniform.

“
So omitting the truth isn't a lie?” His eye twitched.

“
Not when omitting the truth will help the innocent. But obviously you don't intend to do that. You're no better than Stevens or Parsons or any other rich man I've ever had the displeasure of knowing. Too busy licking boots to help a lowly whore.”

He reeled back as if she'd slapped him.
A tic started in his whiskered cheek. “I
do not
give a tinker's damn about pleasing some rich politician.” He gritted each word so hard, Eden heard his jaw crack.

Anger radiated from him, hotter than the stove
. His expression, his reaction out of place … and she hadn't said one word about a politician.

“
Besides,” he stepped forward again, tall, intimidating, so close the enticing scent of leather, man and spice wrapped around her, “I never said I wasn't going to help Mary Rose. I just
want—”

“
What?”
Here it was.
Men always wanted something.
“What do you want? Payment…some compensation?” He was no better than the rest of the men who used women.

“
Huh?” His brows knitted.

“
Sex? If I bed you, you’ll help me, isn’t that what you mean?” She waved her spoon as she spoke, barely resisting the urge to whack him with the wooden handle.

“
No. I never said—”

“
You didn’t have to. I know how men act, how men think.” She stepped closer now, so close her breasts brushed him with each angry breath she took. “You’re
all
the same.”

His face tightened
, a vein in his temple pulsed. “We’re certainly no worse than women. Lying, cheating.” His voice became louder and louder. “I’ve never met a woman who could tell the truth, and you’ve proved that fact. Women use men.”

“
Use
men? Hah! Men use
everyone
and care for
no one
but themselves! Men don’t care if you’re starving, or cold, or hurt.”
Bleeding. Half dead.
Her heart pounded, pictures flashing through her mind, blood, pain, death, money, power. With men it was all about the money and power.

“
Lady, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I could tell you things—” he stopped short. “Just don’t read me your laundry list of why men are the demise of society, because I can match your stories indiscretion for indiscretion, sin for sin, why woman will be our ruination.” His last words were bitter, his eyes filled with hurt.

They stood so close his words brushed the hair at her temple. T
ension crackled between them. Emotion vibrating through her, shaking, trembling, their breathing shallow, angry. She glared up into his eyes and her heart stuttered.

The moment stretched out, seconds, minutes. Neither moved, but slowly his eyes darkened, his lips
parted as if he wanted to say more, but he gave a quick shake of his head and stepped back.

What the hell had just happened?
She never acted like this, never. She was always in control.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and shook his head, looking down as if his dirty boots held the answer to a question.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I’ll help you. And I want nothing in return. I give my word.”

The aching sincerity in his deep voice shivered over her skin. But she’d be a fool to let herself be deceived by pretty words and promises again.
“I don't put much stock in a man's—”

The kitchen door swung open
, and Alice stomped in. “Damnation, Eden, how much longer on them pork chops?” Alice’s eyes widened as she glanced at the two of them. “Everythin' all right in here?”

“
Yes.” Eden waved her away. “I'll have the plates ready in a minute.” She sucked in a deep breath and backed farther away from the major.

“
MmmHmm. Well, I need two bowls of stew and one order of apple pie too.”

“
Fine, fine. I'm working on it. Just get the men their drinks.”

“
MmmHmm.”

“
Alice, go.” Eden squeezed past him to cut a large slice of pie. “Major, if you truly mean to help Mary Rose, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” For her ward’s sake, she’d put aside her anger. Right now, she needed him to leave. She needed to figure out why after twenty-four years of holding her emotions in tight check, she’d just hissed and spewed all over a man she barely knew.

He
leaned casually against the table – obviously ignoring her hint to leave.

“
So why didn't you just tell me everything this morning? Why come dressed like a farm wife?”

“
Because I didn't trust you.” She turned and flipped the sizzling pork chops. “I've tried to get help, but, well, I’ve never found men to be helpful of a whore.” She pulled open the oven door. “In fact, I've never found men to be helpful at—
Aarrgh!
” Pain scorched her hand as a pan of cornbread smashed to the floor.

“
Damn it to hell and back.” She wrapped her palm in her apron skirt. Sharp heat shot through her hand, her reward for allowing him become a distraction.

In two long
strides he was at her side, his dark brows pulled into a frown, concern tightening his handsome face.

“
Let me see it.” He reached for her hand.

“
No. Just go away.” Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back. “I have work to do.” And she couldn’t stand if he was nice to her right now. She just couldn’t.

He sighed
as if she was daft. “You can't work with your hand blistered.”

“
I've worked in worse shape.”
So much worse.

“
What happened?” Alice busted through the door and scowled at Major Bradford. “I heard you scream. Did he hurt you?”

“
No. Nothing. I touched the hot pan is all. I'll have those plates in five minutes.” Eden
shooed
Alice out, then whirled back toward the stove.

“
No you won't.” The major strode to the sink and pumped water onto a towel. “Sit down. Let me tend to your hand.” He stepped toward her.

“
I’m fine.” She couldn’t think with him so close. “You can go.”

“
I could, I’m not going to. Now sit down.” His chin had a stubborn tilt.

Fine
. He could be stubborn all he wanted. So could she. “I don't take orders. Not from you or any man.”

“
Understood. But at least let me see the wound.” He held out his hand, his gaze commanding, then frowning as she refused to show him her hand. “Eden, please. Let me help you. You’re hurt.”

His words were gentle. Almost
caring. But that couldn’t be.
Men don’t care.
But the way he said her name, the deep timbre of his voice, like a caress made her want to believe maybe…maybe…She glanced up into his eyes, and was caught, snared in what she saw.

“Easy.” He took one small step closer. “Just let me look. I want to help, Eden. Please. Let’s just pretend our skirmish didn’t happen. Pretend we’ve just met. How do you do, I’m Major Bradford.” He bowed. “Full time soldier, part time horse’s ass.”

A short giggle escaped her.
She couldn’t stop it. His earnest apology unnerved her, but his wry remark made her feel…
What? Relaxed? Safe?
Was she really so pathetic?

No, she wasn’t.

Unfisting her fingers, she stuck out her hand. “See? Now that you’ve surveyed the wound, you can leave.”

“
No.” He gently took her wrist and placed the cold rag against the large blister.

“
Isssshhh.
Damn the Devil that hurts.” She tried to jerk her hand free.

“
I'm sorry.” He removed the towel and examined the burn. “You need some salve on this.”

He held her hand loosely, but the heat of his touch felt as hot as the blister. One long finger stroked her wrist
, that single touch, the most intimate thing she'd shared with a man in so, so long, the stroke of temptation, the most perilous feeling she'd had since Alexander.

“
Major Bradford—” She needed him to leave. She needed her heart to stop pounding like a silly schoolgirl’s. Why was he making her feel things? She’d thought herself immune to men after –

“
Sinclair.” His voice rumbled over her.

“
What?” She tried to ignore her pounding pulse.
Had the room gotten hotter?

“
My name is Sinclair.”

“
All right. But I told you I have work to do. I'll doctor this later.”
Please go. Just go.

He shook his head.
“Salve?”

Eden sighed. He wasn't going to give up. Just as he'd told her this morning.
“Above the pie safe.” Maybe if she let him doctor it, then he’d go.

He nodded and
walked to the shelf. Pulling down the tin, he took off the lid and dipped his fingers inside.

“
Give me your hand.”

She studied his face.
The same sense of stubborn integrity was still there, in his eyes, the set of his jaw. Integrity mixed with good looks enough to tempt a saint. Dear God, he was sinfully dangerous.

Temptation
blocked her good sense in the past. She couldn't let it happen again. Besides, things that seemed too good be true most likely were. Especially concerning a man.

“
Why are you being nice? I thought you were angry at me.” And angry men were deadly.

His brow lifted.
“Being angry doesn't negate doing what's right.” Smearing a big dollop of slave onto the blister, he made a loose wrap of the damp towel. “I was sent here to do a job. Since I've found out about Mary Rose, part of that job is finding who assaulted her.” He bit his lip as he concentrated on tying the ends of the towel together. “We may have started off on the wrong foot, but I
will
help you. Now sit down.”

He was too damned bossy.
“Major—”

“
I know. There's work to do.” He gently pushed her into a chair then turned, peeled off his coat and hat, then stabbed the pork chops from the pan. “What else goes with these?”

“
Pardon?”  Did he really mean to prepare the orders? To help in the
kitchen
?

“
What. Else. Goes. On. The. Plates?” He stressed each word as if she were deaf.

“
Umm,” The sight of him standing there, an orderly cavalry major, hair mussed, steaming plate in hand, tied her tongue. “Um, the turnip greens and mashed potatoes. Then two biscuits.”

He placed
everything she listed and reached for bowls. “And Alice said two bowls of stew and one apple pie, correct?”

Eden nodded
.

He ladled
the soup and cut the pie, setting everything on a large serving tray, then hollered for Alice.

The woman pushed open the door
and frowned. “So now you're cookin? What you be wantin?”

“
Alice,” Eden scolded, “take out the food while it's hot.”

“
Fine. But mark my word, he wants something from you. MmmHmm. Want I should get the pistol?”

Eden heaved a long sigh.
“No. That won't be necessary. The major is going to find the man who attacked Mary Rose.”

“
MmmHmm. Well, then…I reckon he can stay. Besides, I need a steak, rare, one plate of biscuits and gravy, and another bowl of potato soup. And I need them in a hurry, soldier.” She took the tray and scuttled out the door.

Sinclair
gave a crooked grin. “She’s full of piss and vinegar, but at least you know where you stand.”