Eden's Sin by Jennifer Jakes Page B

boot into the stirrup and swung into the saddle. “You’re in charge until I return.”
    “ Yes, sir.” Ballard gave a quick salute.
    Sin clair turned Lincoln and headed down the street at a cantor, past camp, past the mercantile. Past Devil’s Gate. Damn. Was Eden awake? Or still in bed, all warm and sleepy and tousled. He groaned. God, he had to stop thinking like that. She meant nothing to him. Nothing. He wasn’t going to give her, or her kisses, or her breasts, or her haunting eyes a second thought.
    His association with Miz Gabrielli was over and done.
    ***
     
    Sinclair pushed his way into the Devil’s Gate, several hours later than he’d hoped, three hours past supper. He was soaked, starving and thoroughly pissed off at Parsons who was still complaining—even after Sinclair had tucked the real payroll safely into the railcar lockbox. It had been a long, wet ride, but much faster and covert alone. A troop of men would have drawn too much attention, and that was the last thing he needed.
    Thunder rumbled the glass windows and lightning lit up t he dark sky as he waved McGrady over to his table.
    “ I’m sorry to make you come out in this weather.” Sinclair poured the man a drink.
    McGrady shrugged out of his coat and downed his whiskey. “You’d best be apologizing to my Addy. I had pleasurable plans for the lass about the time Private Collins knocked on the door.”
    Sin clair shook his head. “Then I’m doubly sorry.” He poured the Irishman another drink. “Tell me what you learned today.”
    Unf ortunately Corporal Ballard nor the men had found out anything about the robberies or rape. They were no closer to having answers than they were yesterday.
    “ I wish I had better news for you.” McGrady gave a huge yawn.
    The crowd of men had thinned until just a few hovered over a card game and others made their way upstairs for a more intimate game, one with a red-haired gal, the other a large breasted brunette.
    His gaze combed the room again. No Eden. Not that he was really looking for her. He downed another drink.
    Was she upstairs working? Not that it mattered.
    Was the laughter he heard floating down the steps hers? And so what if it was?
    He fisted his hands, fighting the urge to start searching for her. What the hell was wrong with him? Maybe she was just cooking again.
    “ Something wrong?” McGrady’s brows wrinkled. “You look like you’re about to have to eat glass.”
    Sin clair exhaled and forced his muscles loose. “No. Nothing.” He glanced upstairs again. “I guess Eden’s up there with someone?”
    McGrady choked on his whiskey. “Eden? She hasn’t greased a mattress since I’ve known her.”
    “ What do you mean? You said she was the madam.”
    McGrady shrugged. “Oh, she is and she used to work , but not since she came here. Don’t know why. She doesn’t talk about her past.”
    She didn’t whore? A grin split his face. He nodded and tried to swallow the stupid happy feeling— Hold up a minute. If she wasn’t whoring, then his offering her money last night … Oh, shit.
    That’s why she got so angry. Wait. Why should she be angry at him for something he didn’t know?
    He pushed back his chair and tossed several coins on the table for the whiskey. “I’ll let you get back to your wife. I’ve got other business to attend tonight.” His gaze flicked to the kitchen door.
    McGrady , the bastard, just grinned. “Yes, I can see that.” He stood. “Will you be out on the cut tomorrow?”
    Sinclair shook his head. “I need to stay close to town.” And wait to hear if the robbers made an attempt on the fake payroll train.
    “ All right. Good night then, Major.”
    Sinclair barely heard him. He managed a n od as he headed to the kitchen, his thoughts focused solely on one fact: She’d lied again.
    Omitted the truth. Yeah, well, same difference.
    He should just walk away. Out that door. Right now. Forget he ever saw her.
    He wavered mid-step. The door was right