Adam, Devils on Horseback: Generations, Book 1 (4 page)

“Not me. I ain’t had a lick of good luck. And I’ll have to make flour for the rest of my life.” The very thought of it made him ill. “I can’t start my own business if I’m grinding wheat.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Look at me. My pa wanted to make me into a fine human being and I turned into a cowboy instead.” Spencer snorted at his own humor. Good thing he thought he was funny because no one else did.

“The mill was the reason my grandfather came to Tanger. It’s everything to my mother and father. I’m obligated to continue the tradition.” Damn those traditions anyhow. They cost too much in dreams.

“Your choice. Personally I think you should do what you like to do, not what your parents expect you to do.” Spencer shook his head. “Family is important, but
you
are more important.”

Adam snorted. “That doesn’t make any sense. If you’re going to stand there and bother me, at least help me.”

“Hell no! I don’t have the knack for building with rocks. I wouldn’t ask you to use a hoof knife, would I?” Spencer held up his hands as if warding off evil.

“At least stop being an ass.” Adam was troubled enough, without his cousin adding to his problems. Spencer was one of his closest friends and, deep down, he was a good person whom Adam would trust with his life.

“What are you going to do?” Spencer had set aside the teasing, thank God. His expression had become more serious, as had his tone.

“Damned if I know. She’s nice enough, but odd. And I don’t want a wife.” He gritted his teeth. “Nobody ever asks me what I want. They tell me.”

“I know. Me too, which is why I told my father to go to hell and left.”

Adam’s brows went up. “You did what? To Uncle Zeke?” Of all the Devils, the sheriff was the most serious and frightening of the group of five.

“I did. He told me if I was old enough to swing my dick around, then I’d better swing it elsewhere.” Spencer yanked up a handful of grass. “I won’t stay where I’m disrespected.”

Adam had no idea that much strife simmered between Spencer and his father. At least Adam was close to both his parents, no matter how much he disliked flour and the mill. “I’m sorry.”

“I started it. I’m gonna finish it one day.” Spencer got to his feet. “I gotta go. Mama is making dinner and expects me there. Saturdays in town are a pain in the ass. Too bad everybody knows everybody’s business in Tanger.”

With that, his blond cousin returned the way he’d come. Adam was left alone amongst a destroyed wall. He had a lot of work to do and feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to get anything done.

He set to work and told himself to forget about the mill, making flour and his potential wife. The rocks would soothe his fractious thoughts and give him some peace. At least for a short time.

* * * * *

Eve didn’t know what to do with herself. She tried to clean, but the Sheridan house was tidy as could be. The girls were off to visit friends and their parents worked in the mill. Since she didn’t know a thing about how to make flour, she didn’t get in their way.

Although she never stayed in one place very long, Eve was a hard worker and being idle was against her nature. She wandered about the house, lonely and frustrated. She hadn’t seen Adam since breakfast when he said something about rocks and a wall.

The morning had given way to afternoon before she decided to explore the town. She couldn’t let her fear of strangers keep her chained to a house she didn’t even live in.

The sunlight danced through the leaves of the trees in front of the porch. She lifted her face to the warmth and smiled. The sweet smell of honeysuckle perfumed the air. She spread her arms and found herself dancing through the thick grass.

A familiar melody danced across her tongue. She began to sing.

Oh let those magic eyes of thine;

Lady, upon another shine,

Though but in seeing thee I live,

Those eyes, those eyes my death wound give.

As she sang, her heart grew higher, and for the first time since yesterday, she was happy. Her feet led her into the grassy bank by the river, where she danced and sang.

Eyes that such wondrous art possess

Should guarded be with carefulness,

For when they do but glance at me,

Vainly I strive to gaze on thee.

Eve had always escaped to music, to that which flowed through her blood, heart and soul. There was nothing she loved more than to lose herself in a song. She would dance for an audience while the Roma collected money for her performance. Throughout her strange journey in life, Eve had made more than a few coins singing for her supper.

From those dear eyes I light receive

’Tis only in their light I live,

Yet when they do but glance at me,

Vainly I strive to gaze on thee.

She stopped on the edge of the river, breathless and feeling better. Eve twirled in a circle and smiled. The birds twittered around her. The water burbled merrily. Peace settled on her shoulders. She knew to grab hold of the good moments and keep them close. They didn’t come very often.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Adam’s voice startled her.

She leapt a foot in the air and stumbled backward, catching herself on a tree trunk, the bark biting into her hand. “Adam…I…you scared me.” She pressed her hand to her heart and tried her damnedest not to blush, which was a ridiculous reaction. She was no inexperienced girl, but she was presented with a sight that made her feel like one.

Adam was shirtless. Utterly, completely naked from the waist up. His chest was covered with whorls of dark-red, almost-brown hair and muscles wrapped around beautiful sinew. Amongst it all was a smattering of freckles on his shoulders. Drops of sweat meandered down his chest to his stomach, where a trail of darker hair led into the waistband of his trousers. He had a few scars here and there, white against the sun-darkened skin.

She’d never seen anything so beautiful. She had trouble catching her breath and her knees wobbled. An unexpected reaction.

“You sing like an angel.” He blinked. “I know that song, but I don’t know where I’ve heard it.”

She managed a lopsided smile, although inside she shook with arousal. “I’ve always known that song, but I don’t know where I heard it either.”

Eve didn’t know where to look. The man was passion wrapped up in the form of a red giant. She wanted to touch him. Badly.

“I’m working on the other side of that wall.” He pointed to a stone wall twenty feet away. “You wanna join me and maybe sing some more?”

Eve’s heart leapt against the wall of her chest. He’d invited her so politely and she had no reason to say no. She would have to figure out where to look, since staring at his chest was making her hot and twitchy.

Since they’d met, their encounters had been one disaster followed by another. But how could she say no to him? He’d taken her home when he could have left her behind. Now she had a safe place to live and two weeks to decide if she would marry him.

There were always consequences to actions. Eve had dealt with them her entire life. However, these particular consequences were watching her with blue eyes and the most beautiful chest ever sculpted. Eve was torn between her need to belong and her survival instinct.

“If you don’t want to, that’s all right. I’m sure Mama—”

“I’m happy to join you.” She clapped her hands behind her back and walked toward the stone wall.

Adam fell in step beside her, shortening his strides to match hers. The scent of his exertions reached her. It wasn’t a bad smell, this manly sweat, but it was foreign and unknown. She could still smell the soap he’d used that morning, presumably. His hair curled around his ears and neck, like ginger-colored bubbles bobbing as he walked.

Eve normally protected herself against all men, no matter who they were. She never let herself be vulnerable. Once burned, twice shy.

She shook off the memories that threatened, of dark times she didn’t want to recall. Today was a day of light and song, of sunshine and the peace she could find.

“I grew up in Tanger. In this town, your fate is written when you’re born.” Adam held out his hand and helped her over the small wall. His fingers were calloused from work, strong and sure. She murmured her thanks. “Everyone expects me to take over the milling and keep the flour money rolling.”

Eve sat down on a finished portion of the wall while he knelt in front of where he’d obviously been working. “You don’t want to take over.” She watched as he grimaced but remained silent. “Sometimes other people’s expectations take over our lives, whether or not we want them to. Your family loves you.” As unusual as that was, she believed it to be true.

“I know, and that’s what makes it so hard.” He fitted a rock into the wall and selected another.

“I understand.” She smoothed her skirt with damp palms.

“I think you do.” He smiled and her heart melted a little. “We’re in a predicament, Eve. You and me. What are we going to do about it?”

She had no answers. She couldn’t confide in him. What could she possibly say? He wouldn’t understand and she was fairly certain he would throw her out of his house.

Eve fought against what she knew was right, but her damn heart objected. She knew very well how to lock away the offending organ, although it took her more than a few moments. Then she opened her mouth and began to sing again.

She escaped into song, the musical notes carrying her troubled soul away.

C
hapter Four

T
he afternoon passed quickly. Adam’s work became a source of thoughtful questions by Eve. She’d either watched him, asked questions about him or sung songs. Some he’d never heard and others were familiar. Before today, he couldn’t remember an afternoon spent working and enjoying himself while he did it.

That was all due to Eve. As he’d cleaned up his tools and prepared to leave for home, it occurred to him that not once since they’d arrived in Tanger had he asked about
her
. Eve had also not offered any information about her life.

Guilt ate at him for being self-centered enough to not think of learning more about her, but he didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t have his father’s silver tongue. Most times he sounded cold or annoyed when he talked to the fairer sex. Not intentionally, of course. He was man enough to admit that he didn’t have a suave presence or even a pleasing one. Adam was a redheaded clown. He would ask Rose to be nosy—it was what she did best. He shoved away the further guilt of using his younger sister to ferret information out of Eve.

They walked back to the house together. Eve moved with incredible grace, her skirt swirling around her legs as she walked. He found his gaze straying to her beautiful, lush form and wondering what it felt like to cup her generous breasts.

Eve was a curvy woman who conjured up a healthy dose of lust. She was also an easy woman to talk to. She listened to him when he talked, which not many women did. Most turned him into a stammering idiot. Eve should hate him. After all, he was the reason they were in the situation they were. The Sheridans’ reputation and Eve’s future were jeopardized because he couldn’t keep his eyes on the road. The sad part of that was, he couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking about before the accident. Stupid, foolish choice.

“Thank you for keeping me company.” He spoke to the trees instead of her.

“You’re welcome.” She took in a deep breath. “You have a beautiful town. And I enjoyed your company.” She didn’t look at him either. What was that foolishness?

“I need to wash up at the well pump. Mama refuses to let me in the house when I’m all sweaty and dirty.” He had carried his shirt back, now realizing the reason she might be avoiding his gaze. Adam tried to jam his arms into the shirt, but his toolbox slipped from his grasp and hit the ground, scattering his hammers, chisels and little bits of rock everywhere.

“Oh no!” She leaned down at the same time he did.

Unfortunately he was caught up in his sleeve and couldn’t move fast enough to stop her. His head slammed into hers with enough force to make stars burst across his vision. She yelped and fell backwards, while he held his head with one hand and tried to extract his hand from the goddamn shirt.

“That hurt.”

“Surely two heads can’t be that hard.” She clutched her head, sprawled on the ground, her skirt hiked up to her knees. Two very feminine ankles and calves were visible. A bird-shaped birthmark winked from near her right knee.

He staggered back and averted his gaze, not wanting to embarrass her. Plus his damn head hurt.

“I’m sorry, Eve.”

“It’s my fault as much as yours.” She tugged her skirt down and got to her knees, then started cleaning up his tools.

He moved to intercept her but then stopped himself before they banged their heads together again. “Let me do that, please.”

“I need to do something.” Her voice was low and tight.

“Pardon?”

“I can’t sit idle and do nothing. I am used to spending my days busy—working, cleaning, performing, sewing. I
need
to have a task.” Her brown hair had come loose from its braid and swung as she scrambled to pick up his tools and put them back in the toolbox neatly.

He was again reminded that he hadn’t given a thought to how she was feeling or what she needed. Adam wasn’t a selfish ass by nature, but he was well on his way to achieving that distinction.

“I’m sorry, Eve.” He took her hands and pulled them away from the tools. Her dark-blue eyes watched him warily. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips moist from a swipe of her tongue.

His body tightened with arousal, attraction and need. Adam was a normal man with normal desires.

Kiss her.

Her lips were plump and red, the top lip slightly smaller than the bottom. The late day sun caressed the side of her neck.

Kiss her.

Adam leaned closer, a mere inches from her mouth. She stared at his lips.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

She closed her eyes.

He brushed his mouth over hers, a light touch. She was softer than anything he’d ever felt before. She smelled of something exotic, perhaps a flower or plant she used on her skin or hair. He kissed her again, fitting his mouth over hers. Adam lost himself in the sensation of kissing her, of tasting the essence of Eve.

He wanted to pull her into his arms, press against her to ease the ache in his cock. It throbbed against his trousers, eager to find pleasure with the woman in front of him. He beat back the urges and kept his touches easy, no matter how loudly his body howled.

Adam was responsible for her and he couldn’t take advantage of her. His father had taught him how to be a gentleman, even if sometimes the lessons were difficult to accept. Now, as a grown man, Adam saw the wisdom of restraint, whereas at thirteen, all he wanted to do was run wild.

He pulled back, ending the kiss. Her eyes fluttered open and he fell into their depths. The color was like the night sky, full of different shades of beautiful blue.

Then she spoke. “Are you going to marry me?”

Eve could have bitten her tongue for scaring Adam off like that. After that lovely kiss that made her toes curl, she’d blurted something about being married
. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Thinking would have been a better choice. Instead, she let her mouth take flight and ruined what had been a perfect day.

Her secrets danced behind her tongue, and she kept them constrained, with effort. She’d done too many things in her life to be ashamed of. She’d tried to become a better person over the last few years, but it didn’t erase her past. Adam confused her, jumbled her thoughts until she said stupid things about being married. Eve didn’t want to lose who she was when she was with Adam. She became a woman he liked enough to kiss. Perhaps to even marry.

“We’ve got two weeks to think on that.” He retreated a distance away from her, his hand clutching the toolbox handle with white-knuckled force.

“Of course.” She put her shoulders back and held her head high, when all she wanted to do was find the nearest hole to hide in.

They returned to the mill in awkward silence. Eve watched as he went around the back to store his tools and wash up. She entered the house with a timid knock, even though Mrs. Sheridan had already told her she was a guest and to come and go as she pleased.

The late day sun streamed through the windows in the parlor, giving everything a golden glow. The crystals on the lamp threw rainbows on the walls and floor. Eve was enchanted. She reached over to cup one in her hand.

“You’re not planning on taking that, are you?” The youngest sister, Rose, appeared in the doorway.

“No, of course not.” Eve wiped her hand on her skirt. “I wanted to see how it made rainbows.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I had to go find out for myself. Nobody knew until I talked to Tabitha. She’s kind of a cousin, on account of our pas are good friends, like brothers. She reads a lot and she told me it’s called a prism. The sunlight hits all the angles in the glass and bends the light.” Rose talked faster than any other person on the earth. The girl had endless words and syllables tumbling from her mouth. “I don’t know much science, but it sounded right to me. Did you spend the day with Adam? He’s back at the pump talking to himself. Sorta arguing actually. And I think he’s losing.”

Eve couldn’t stop the laugh that jumped out. She slapped her hand across her mouth, but Rose was too busy laughing at her own joke to notice. The Sheridans were an interesting family.

“Rose, you need to set the table. I’ve told you twice now,” Mrs. Sheridan called from the kitchen, her husky voice patient.

“Yes, Mama.” Rose made a face, but she got up and left the room, presumably to do her chore.

Eve stared at the lamp, the angles throwing different patterns of light, even rainbows. She wanted to be as beautiful as that. Her past was a murky mash of unknowns and lies. None of which made her anything but a shadow. She would never be a prism, which drew her to them even more.

“Supper is just about ready.” Mrs. Sheridan walked into the parlor with a smile. Her polite inclusion of Eve was unexpected and it made her throat tighten with emotion. It was never that hard to start over before. Why now? What made Adam and his family so special?

“Thank you. I’ll go wash up.” Eve got up to escape, but Mrs. Sheridan blocked her path.

“What is it, Eve? Are you feeling poorly?” Concern spread across the older woman’s face as she frowned. “Are you missing your family?”

Eve shook her head. The Roma had let her live with them, but in truth, Eve had never had family. She’d been on her own her entire life. A family was as foreign as being a miller like Mrs. Sheridan. Unknown and confusing.

“I’m fine. Probably just worn out from the day.” She managed a weak smile. “I’m sure I’ll be better after I eat.”

“Then we’d better get you fed.” Mrs. Sheridan moved out of Eve’s way but didn’t leave.

Eve glanced up at her, wary of the way the other woman’s brows had drawn together.

“I have to say something else.” Mrs. Sheridan sat down beside her. “I don’t know where you came from, or who your family was, but I’m not as trusting as my husband is. A woman caused a lot of damage to this town, to my family, and I’m wary of strangers. I’m asking you not to hurt my son. If you do, I’m a woman who doesn’t forgive easily, nor would I let it pass. I will return the hurt to you twofold.”

Eve’s mouth dropped open. She’d never heard a woman speak her mind, no matter every one of them thought it. Never mind the fact that most women didn’t threaten bodily injury while maintaining a polite expression. “Pardon?”

“I own this mill, not my husband, but he works
with
me, not
for
me. We’re partners in everything and that’s what I wish for my children.” She took Eve’s hands into her cool, calloused ones. “What I’m trying to say is you have a choice to do the right thing. We can help you settle in town, if that’s what you want. Or we’ll ask our extended family, my husband’s best friends, to help you find where you do want to live. All I ask is that you not hurt my son or anyone else.”

Eve understood threats and Mrs. Sheridan had a right to be suspicious. Eve was a survivor, no matter how she had to accomplish it. From the time she could remember, no one had treated her as though she were as important as they were, that she mattered. In one swift fell, Mrs. Sheridan twisted that perception by offering to help her and at the same time threatening her.

One thing Eve had come to know—nothing was as good as it seemed. And no one, no matter who they were, did something without an end goal in mind. She wanted so much to believe the older woman, but experience had taught Eve to guard herself. Not that she thought Mrs. Sheridan was lying, but when push came to shove, no doubt, self-preservation would come into play. The kind that left Eve alone on a dark road with nothing but the clothes on her back.

“I don’t plan to hurt Adam. He’s been gallant and kind to me.” Eve put the right mixture of confusion and wariness in her voice. Most of which wasn’t forced.

“Don’t say anything. Just think about what I said. I wanted to speak with you without the men around, or Rose. She’s my youngest and tends to run roughshod over the world.” Mrs. Sheridan smiled with what appeared to be genuine relief. “I’ll get back to supper, then.” She returned to the kitchen, leaving Eve alone with her thoughts.

She stared at the prisms on the floor. What was it about this family that set them apart? In all her years moving around, Eve had never run across a group of people willing to help her for no backhanded purpose. Perhaps when she was very small and had found herself alone, she’d looked to others for comfort and protection.

No more, though. Eve patted the knife sheathed at her thigh. She would do her best to find out if Adam was going to be a good prospect to use or if she would disappear into the night. She was skilled at vanishing without leaving a trail.

If the Sheridans proved to be as selfish as the rest of the world, she would have no qualms about leaving. Perhaps she would take a prism with her to remind her of the time spent with them.

To remind her she had no angles and no light pouring through her. No, she was more like a plain, discarded stick on the ground. They might think they know her, but once she burned, Eve was nothing but ash.

* * * * *

Adam sipped his coffee the morning after he kissed Eve, his thoughts trapped with the taste and softness of her lips. The sounds of the morning drifted around him. Rose was arguing with Mama and Bella about what to cook for the charity bake sale at the Founder’s Day celebration. Nothing new there.

He’d retrieved a piece of black onyx from his collection. It was a gift for Eve, to apologize for kissing her and for putting her in a situation like she was in. The onyx was one of his most prized rocks and he wanted Eve to know he was sorry. As he reached into his pocket for the onyx, the back door banged open.

He should have known his uncle would want to know what was going on. As the town’s sheriff for all of Adam’s life, Zeke Blackwood made it his business to protect everyone. Especially those he considered family.

The big blond lawman walked into the kitchen and Adam’s gut clenched. He glanced at Eve, who stared at Zeke like a rabbit facing a wolf.

“Good morning, Sheridans!” Zeke greeted everyone with smiles and shoulder pats. He sat down directly across from Eve and Adam. His brown gaze was always as intense, no matter if he was discussing an apple pie or a murder. Being a lawman was his natural calling, that much was obvious, even to Adam when he was a little boy.