Eden's Sin (8 page)

“
Eden…”

“
Major, if you don’t go, I’m going to call for Alice.”

Damn. She
was
mad. She stood staring at—or through him—he wasn’t sure. Her face was a void mask.

“
Fine, I’ll go.” Let her be stubborn. He wasn’t going to waste any time trying to figure out women. All they did was make a man crazy, and he had enough to do in Ladore without being distracted by a woman. He stepped through the door onto the back porch. “Lock up behind me. Take the shotgun to your room in case Len comes back.”

She shook her head.
“I keep a pistol under my mattress. You’d do well to remember that.”

Now she was threatening him?
He whirled on his heel. “I don’t know what made you so damned angry, lady, but don’t insult me. I would never hurt or force myself on a woman. I have more respect than that. Perhaps you should try to find some respect for yourself and stop blaming men for what’s happened to you.” And hell no, he wasn’t going to examine the fact he hadn’t found self-respect since Coreena. This wasn’t about his faults. Not tonight anyway.

Her expression fell, fresh tears shining in her eyes. Damn it. He turned unwilling to see her pain. He couldn’t take anymore guilt, he just couldn’t.

“Sinclair, wait?” The soft sound of his name on her lips brushed over his skin like silk. He stopped, then stepped back onto the porch. She gazed up at him, the look so intimate his cock hardened despite the fact he was mad enough spit.

He plante
d his arms on either side of the doorway. “Yes?”

She took a deep breath.
“I just … I truly could have been a respectable lady, you know.”

The melancholy in her voice gut-punched him. If she only kn
ew what
respectable
ladies were really like.

“
Ladies
are not always what they seem. So you’re probably better off as you are. Or would be if you’d learn to trust just a little.”

Oh, he heard the irony in that, yes. When was the last time he trusted anyone?

She gave a brittle laugh. “The last man I trusted pushed me down a staircase and left me to die.”

His gut twisted. Had he heard her correctly?

“What?” His hands fisted. An image of her lying broken and bloody at the bottom of a stairwell filled his mind. Red-hot anger pulsed through him.
Who did that?
Who could have hurt her so? “What happened?”

She gave a false smile.
“Well, obviously I lived.” She brushed aside a single tear, her flippant answer not fooling him one bit.

Christ. No wonder she didn’t trust men.

“Eden—”

“Good night, Major.” She started pushing the door, pushing him away again.

This isn’t your fight. Let her be.

“Fine. Good night.” He waited until he heard the lock
click
before shuffling down the porch stairs, but the wrenching sob he heard stopped him cold. He turned and saw her shadow slide down the glass pane of the door. Her agonizing cries splintered his heart. He placed his hand on the knob, hovering. Should he knock? Go back and gather her into his arms? Hell, was she crying because he’d offered to pay her?

He blew a long
breath and scrubbed his hand over his whiskers. Shit. This was his fault.

“
Eden?” He knocked on the glass pane. “Let me in.”

“
No.” Her voice shuddered. “I’m fine. Just go.”

Her shadow moved, skirts rustled, then the lantern went out.

“Eden?”

Nothing. Silence. Oh, he’d bet his horse she was still there, choosing to ignore him, closing out the world, holding in the pain.

Shaking his head, he started toward the street, his steps less than certain. He glanced back at Devil’s Gate. Should he go back? Make her let him help?

No, let her
be.

He quickened his stride, putting distance betwee
n himself and the woman tying him into knots. He felt like he’d been on an unbroken bronc for hours, racing down a mountainside, blind. Drunk. Wild. His legs felt like wet rope. His guts twisted like he’d just been through a battle. Hell, he had.

All because of one beautiful woman with clear, green eyes.

He ducked into his tent and stripped off his coat and hat. Dropping onto his cot, he ran his fingers through his hair.

Weren’t they a pair? Both surviving by keeping everyone at bay, protecting what was left of their pride, their hearts.
Yeah, he recognized it in her, as if looking into his own soul. Didn’t mean he liked it. He didn’t need all these memories and feelings stirred up. Best if he just left her the hell alone. In a week or so he’d be gone anyway, back to Fort Hayes where he could control his life.

He pulled off his bo
ots and socks and flopped back onto his pillow.
Ump.
Reaching beneath his hip, he pulled his beaten harmonica from his pocket. Damn thing didn’t even play anymore. He really should throw it away. He blew a quick run, letting the sour notes bring back sour memories.
Pain
. That’s why he kept it. To remind him of betrayal. To remind him that people lied. That love lied.

He swallowed hard and stared at the once shiny metal.

A sick thud started in his head. Fear fighting to stay forefront as memories flashed.

Coreena
on their wedding day.

Coreena
telling him she was pregnant.

Coreen
a’s suicide.

He heaved a long sigh and pinched
the bridge of his nose. Women couldn’t be trusted not to break a man’s heart.

He’d be a damned fool to give Eden another thought.

A damned fool…

***

“
Good morning, Major.” Corporal Ballard stepped inside the tent and set a steaming cup of coffee on Sinclair’s desk.

“
Morning, Corporal. Make yourself comfortable and let me tell you what we’ve got to do today.”

Sinclair hadn’t slept more than an hour last night.
He tried to tell himself it wasn’t because of Eden, but it was. Apparently he
was
a damned fool.

“
Sir?” The corporal stood looking at him.

“
Yes, sorry. Sit down. I’ve come up with a plan of action.” Since he hadn’t slept and his mind chugged along like a new steam engine, he
had
come up with several ideas to catch the thief.

He told Ballard about his conversation with Parsons yesterday, then moved on to his plan.

“To my way of thinking there are three people capable of leaking the payroll information. Parsons’ being one of them–but let’s not muddy the water with him just yet. Right now I don’t see any advantage to him bankrupting himself.”

Ballard nodded.

“Right now my strongest suspicion says either Parsons’ daughter, Kate, or Henry Stevens is the guilty party. Or both if they’re working together.”

“
But why would either of them want to sabotage the railroad?” Ballard frowned. “Don’t both Stevens and Miss Parsons stand to lose more than they would gain?”

“
Daughter and father don’t always see eye to eye. He admitted as much. And you know how vengeful women get when they’re angry.” By God he’d had proof of that last night. He took a sip of the coffee, letting the hot liquid slide down his throat while he gathered his thoughts. “And Stevens, well, I don’t trust that peacock. I think he could be bought before you could say
bribery
.”

Ballard scribbled not
es into a small notebook.

“
But if you take a woman’s revenge out of the equation, that leaves Stevens. I honestly think he’s the one but…” He couldn’t discount the butler. “Ask around about the old man, Floyd. He’s Parsons valet and cook. I don’t think he has a motive, but ask if anyone has seen him with extra money.”

Ballard
looked up. “Then what is the next step?”

Sinclair grin
ned. “Tricking the guilty into thinking they’re getting exactly what they want. The money. We’ll give them the information of when the next payroll is being delivered. False information, of course. We’ll figure out something else if your questions turn up doubts about Floyd. By that time we’ll know if Stevens or Miss Parsons takes our bait.”

After he explained the
rest of the details of his plan, he gave Ballard his orders “So take four men and ride out to the cut-line. You all will need to hire on with Cormac McGrady.” He scribbled a quick note. “Give him this. Then you and the men spread out and ask enough questions to get the workers talking. See if anyone knows any particulars about the robberies in case I’m missing some important detail. We’ll also need to assign a couple of men to ride the train back and forth each trip. I want them in the baggage car with the payroll. Guns ready.”

Yes, sir.
” Ballard finished his notes. “What about that problem yesterday?”

“
What problem?” At the rate problems arose in Ladore, Ballard would have to be more specific.

“
That pretty lady who came in here.”

Sinclair’s heart skipped at just the mention of Eden.
“She came in to report a rape. A young girl who, unfortunately, killed herself last night.” He shook his head. “We have less than nothing to go on for this. All the girl said was the man had a Southern accent and whiskers. I’m going to poke around town and see what I can find out, but …” He let the words hang, unwilling to admit he would fail. Fail Eden. See the disappointment on her face when she looked at him. He’d see that look too many times in his life.

Ballard glanced
up from his paper. “Anything else?”

“
Um, no.” Damn, he had to stop thinking of her. “Get the troop ready for morning inspection. Then the men you pick for missions will need to wear civilian clothes so as to blend in.”

“
Yes, sir.” He stood and gave a brisk salute, then left.

Sinclair gulped the last of his coffee, then scrubbed his hands over his face.
Why was Eden invading his thoughts again? She was just a woman, just another prostitute. There was absolutely no reason for her to be on his mind.

“Pardon me, sir?” Ballard hovered outside the tent.

“
Come in.”

“
There’s a message for you. Parsons’ telegraph man just brought it.”

Sinclair sighed and reached for the thin paper.
He didn’t have to guess who would send a telegram so soon.

Father.

“
Thank you. I’ll be out to speak to the men in just a moment.” He waited until the corporal was gone then unfolded the message.

Sinclair.

I will be joining the group of dignitaries traveling to
Ladore on June 15
th
to inquire as to the problems with the Katy. All investors are distressed. I expect things to be handled before we arrive. If not, there is talk of taking legal action against Parsons. I do not have to tell you what that would mean to those of us with money on the line. Senator Moreton, two lawyers and the governor of Kansas will be in attendance. These men are out for blood. I have put together a small group of investors who will be with me to try to halt whatever plan Moreton has. Do not let me down again. You have two days.

Judge Bradford.

What the hell!? He re-read the telegraph.
Two days?

He wad
ded the paper and threw it across the tent. If he didn’t know better, he would suspect Father had this planned all along. Planned for him to fail.

He kicked his chair and fought the urge to curse a blue streak.
Then stopped.
Senator Moreton.
He had a name now.

He grabbed his hat. He had to speak to
McGrady in person. If he confirmed Moreton was the man who bribed Adella McGrady to sabotage the Katy, then Sinclair was that much closer to solving this mess. And he’d like nothing better than to clamp the irons on a politician.

“Major!” Stevens burst through the tent flap. “Judge Parsons wants to see you.
Now
.”

He did
not
have the time or patience for Stevens. “I’m busy right now.” He didn’t even try to disguise the annoyance in his voice.

“
It’s about the telegram you just received.” Stevens’ jaw tightened. “And the judge doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Oh, he c
ould just bet Parsons was in a lather about the group of angry investors. Nervous as hell about his precious railroad.

“Corporal Ballard.” He motioned to the man hovering at the tent flap. It was time to make a drastic change in plans.