Find a Christian store

<< Go Back

Love's Silver Bullet

By Julie Lessman

Order Now!

PROLOGUE
Virginia City, Nevada, 1873

“We are gathered here in this barn today to unite this man and this woman”—a hint of a smirk twitched on thirteen-year-old Blaze Donovan’s face, Jake Sullivan’s idiot best friend, before his mock sobriety returned in force—“in the bonds of holy matrimony.”
Barely two months older, Jake Sullivan countered with a scowl as he stood next to Blaze's four-year-old sister Sheridan in an empty stall of the Silver Lining Ranch, a tow-headed mite that barely came to his knees.
Officiating before an audience of dolls propped against logs, Sheridan’s turtle, and his twelve-year-old brother Dash, Blaze elevated a chin shadowed with adolescence scruff like Jake’s own, his pious stance meant to restrain the mockery in his eyes.
It didn’t work.
“Do you Jacob Michal Sullivan take Sheridan Marie Donovan to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and through games of jacks, hopscotch, and pretend wedding or school, till death do you part?
Jake singed Blaze with a look that could have set the Bible aflame. “I do,” he said in a terse tone meant to relay Jake’s intent for eventual payback.
Blaze’s ridiculing expression relaxed into affection as he turned to his litter sister, who looked adorable in a pink frilly pinafore dress complete with a makeshift veil her Uncle Finn had fashioned out of wire and tulle fabric from Mort’s Mercantile. “And you, Sheraton Marie Donovan, do you take Jacob Michael Sullivan to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, despite smelling like a cow at the end of the day, smelly socks, and lemon drops purchased at Burdzy’s Emporium to hide the stink of onions he eats raw, till death do you part?
Jake’s mouth compressed. Which for the pastor, could be sooner than he thinks.
Giggling, Sheridan peered up with the face of an angel, blue eyes brimming with so much adoration, that Jake’s scowl automatically softened into a smile.
“Ahem.” Slapping the Bible closed, Blaze laid it on the half wall of the stall behind him before turning back with an evil gleam in his eyes. “Then by the authority vested in me by the horses and cows in this here barn, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He grinned as he cocked a hip to the wood with a loose fold of arms. “You may now kiss the bride,” he said with an equally diabolical laugh that matched that of Blaze’s brother, Dash, the two of them breaking into raucous laughter like a pack of drunken hyenas.
In stark contrast, the congregation remained somber, not unlike Jake at the moment, who hurled a dirty look at his best friend before he bent on one knee to press a kiss to Sheridan’s riot of blonde curls.
Make that “former” best friend.
“No, Jakie,” she whispered in that little-girl voice that always disarmed him, the tiny crimp above her button nose like a sock in the gut. “You have to kiss me like a man kisses a woman,” she said, dropping her loose bouquet of wildflowers to plant two pudgy hands on either side of his face. “Like this.” She proceeded to pucker rose-petal lips against his, as soft as a butterfly wing.
Blaze bounced off the walls with laughter while Dash literally rolled in the hay, legs dancing in the air with glee while tears spilled from their eyes, both of their faces as red as a baboon’s butt. Ignoring them, Jake cradled a calloused hand against Sheridan’s silky cheek, thinking she was the sweetest and prettiest little thing he had ever seen.
At least since Josie.
The memory stabbed hard, ruining the precious moment he’d just been given.
“Jakie?” Her soft-spoken scold was accompanied by a serious lift of miniature flaxen brows that were barely there. “You forgot to put the ring on my finger.”
Despite the annoyance of donning his Sunday best in the middle of the week and the mockery of his two best friends, Jake felt a smile tug at his lips as her tiny fingers dug into the pocket of his suit for the clover ring he’d made for her. He didn’t know how she did it, but somehow that sweet, innocent voice always managed a tone of authority that made Jake feel like he was the four-year-old instead of her. But then she was the wedding expert after all, weekly weddings the favorite game she loved to play with her big brothers. And the game required of them before their Uncle Finn would allow fishing at Silver Lake without their little sister.
Dash lumbered up from the hay, rubbing the tears from his eyes. “By jingo, I just love weddings, don’t you, Blaze?”
“Sure do, Dash, and it couldn’t happen to a nicer guy than old Sully.”
Jake seared them with a lidded look. “Knock it off, you too, or you’ll be playing the groom next time.”
Chuckling, Blaze backed up with palms in the air. “No siree, Jacob Michael, that wouldn’t be fittin’, us blood-related to the bride and all. Plus, you’re the only one she ever wants as a groom, and you know it.”
A silent sigh leaked from Jake’s lips. Yeah, he knew it. Little Sheridan Donovan had followed him around like a lost calf since the day Finn had taken him in, a situation he both bucked and embraced. Bucked because Blaze and Dash ribbed him incessantly, and embraced because Sher symbolized everything he’d lost and never thought he’d have again. An orphan with a family who died, Jake had finally come home at the Silver Lining Ranch, forever grateful to Finn McShane, the man who had not only given him a home, but a job, a family, and two best friends.
Or used to be.
Thumbs hooked in the pockets of his blue jeans, Blaze rolled back on his heels with a broad grin. “So, Dash and I just want to offer our congratulations, Sul, and wish you and little missus the best of luck.”
“Oh, no—it broke!” Jake froze at the sound of Sheridan’s stricken whisper as the wilted clover ring dangled from her tiny hand, torn in two.
His heart cramped when a pool of tears wobbled on the brim of tiny lashes, and frantic to stop their flow, he lunged for a pink daisy wildflower from the bouquet she’d dropped at his feet. “Look, Half-pint, I can make you a new one that’s even prettier,” he said, scooping up the daisy with the strongest stem. “See?” She watched as he wound it round and round until he could tie it off at the end, finally producing a perfect little ring with a pink daisy on top. Heart pounding, he held it against her ruffled pink dress and pinafore. “And it even matches your dress.”
“B-But it’ll j-just die l-like the other one.”
Jake froze at the fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “Sure, sweetheart,” he said in a rush, desperate to bring a smile back to her face, “but that’s okay because I can make you a real one out of silver from your Uncle’s silver mine. Would you like that?”
Her lips trembled into a beautiful smile that made him feel like he’d just beat the pants off a Blaze in a shootin’ contest. “Oh, Jakie, yes!” She flung herself into his arms, all but knocking him over. “I love you!”
“Whoa, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle, holding the daisy ring out so it wouldn’t get crushed. “Let’s get this on your finger for now before it wilts, okay? And then I’ll make you a real one soon as I can.” She held out a tiny hand, and he carefully pushed the daisy ring on, amazed at how perfectly it fit.
“It’s beee-uuu-tiful!” she said in a near squeal, tiny arms hugging him the best she could.
“Okay, wedding’s over, Sullivan, so get a wiggle on.” Blaze tucked the Bible under his arm as he moved toward the door, his and Dash’s hilarity apparently appeased for the moment. “Those fish won’t catch themselves.”
“Yeah, Jakie,” Dash said, tossing a grin over his shoulder as he followed his brother, “after all, you still have to change so you can catch some fish for your bride.”
“Can I go, Jake, please, please?” Sheridan bounced up and down, the makeshift veil flopping in the air along with his heart.
“Uh-oh,” Blaze said to Dash, grimacing as he backed out of the stall. “Definitely our cue to make tracks.” He blew a kiss to his sister. “Sher, you make a beautiful bride, darlin’, although I can’t say too much for the groom”—he winked at Jake—“’cause I think you could have done better.”
“Jakie, please?” Sheridan kept hopping up and down, hands in prayer mode while that adorable jut of her lower lip reeled him in faster than a blue gill on a cricket dipped in bacon grease.
Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking this shouldn’t be this difficult for a thirteen-year-old pretend groom. But blue blazes, it was hard to say no to this little gal! Expelling a heavy sigh, he gently gripped her arms, reverting to big-brother mode. “Now, Half-pint, you know the rules, sweetheart. Your brothers and I play wedding with you, and you let us go fishing without a fuss, right?”
She gave a jerky little nod while two fat tears made an encore. “But it c-could be our h-honeymoon …” she said with a little heave that all but broke his heart.
Honeymoon? Jake blinked. She was four years old, for crying out loud. Where the devil did she get these things anyway, in a house of bachelors, no less?
Shaking the absurdity of her statement off, Jake homed in on those soggy blue eyes once more. “Silver Lake is no place for a little girl, Sher, and you know it. Weeds and snakes and chiggers and heaven knows what else.” He gave the lace on her frilly puff sleeve a gentle tug. “Besides, you’ve got your best dress on.”
“I can change …” she whispered.
“Sully, you coming or not?!” Blaze’s impatience echoed from the entrance of the barn, ringing in Jake’s ears. “So, help me—we’ll start the blasted tournament without you …”
“Coming!” he shouted with a lift of his head before carefully brushing Sheridan’s long silky curls over her shoulder. “Look, Sher, how ’bout I ask Angus to makes us wedding cake for dessert after dinner, and I’ll even help you cut it. Would you like that?”
She sniffed and nodded. “And will you sit by me too?” She sounded so frail and sad that Jake all but melted into the hay.
“You bet, darlin’, and I’ll even eat any vegetable on your plate you don’t want”—he leaned close to whisper, as if it were their secret—“without your uncle being any wiser, okay?”
“Okay,” she said in voice as small as she, allowing him to brush away her tears with his thumb. She peeked up beneath thick, pale lashes. “And will you play school with me after dinner too?”
He paused, well aware Blaze and Dash would want to play horseshoes with their uncle and him. But one look into those glossy turquoise eyes, and he was a goner. Tamping down a smile, he wagged a finger in jest. “Twenty minutes, young lady, and no more, all right?” He tugged on a silky curl, his sternest look in play. “And no putting me in the corner again, understood?”
A tiny smile peeked through her pout like the sun through a thunderhead, brightening his day. “Cross your heart and hope to die?” she whispered with a blink of blue eyes that captured his heart all over again.
“Jaaaaaake!!” Blaze’s screech could have splintered the walls.
He slapped a hand to his heart, face solemn as he repeated their own personal oath that he’d taught her one day. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” Giving her a squeeze, he stood to his feet. “Gotta go, sweet stuff, but I’ll see you at dinner, all right?”
“Okay,” she said softly, “the sadness in her eyes twisting his heart. “But I wish I could marry you for real someday.”
He winced, praying for the day she’d finally grow up and fall in love, setting him free to be the big brother he longed to be. “I do, too, darlin’,” he said softly, squatting once more to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But you have to remember, Sher, I’m like a big brother, so this is only make-believe. Which means no amount of wishing can ever make it true, okay?” He waited for the shaky nod that never came, finally pulling her into a hug. Propping his chin on top of her silky head, he wandered into a dead stare. Because he had no doubt whatsoever that when it came to wishes and marriage …
He was plumb out of luck.






CHAPTER ONE
Virginia City, Nevada, June 1886

“Come on, Sully, you promised.”
Jake “Sully” Sullivan peered up at his best friend Blaze Donovan through slitted eyes as he hefted his saddle over his horse, Midnight, with a scowl. Make that former best friend, he thought as he cinched up the straps, his mouth in a mulish press while he jerked them good and tight. Just like he wished he could do to his so-called best friend at the moment, who seemed hellbent on pushing Jake into precarious situations with Sheridan, Blaze’s little sister.
And Jake’s for the last sixteen years.
“No, you promised, Donovan,” Jake snapped, tired of these pesky feelings that had suddenly sprung up toward the little girl who used to follow him and her brothers around from the age of four. He stifled a grunt. “Little girl”? If only! Because at eighteen years of age, Sheridan was anything but. Jake secured his saddle with a final jerk, scorching Blaze with a heated glare. “And all because you’re too dad-burned weak-kneed to say no to your little sister.”
Blaze had the gall to grin while he massaged his left shoulder with a fake grimace. “I know. Just like you’re too ‘weak-kneed’ to say no to me since I saved your sorry butt from falling off that cliff, wrenching my shoulder in the process.”
Jake cut loose with a groan as he pinched the bridge of his nose, figuring he’d long since paid his debt to Blaze Donovan for saving his life when they first met. “Blue blazes, Donovan, how long you plan to milk that cow, anyway?”
“For as long as I can, my friend.” Blaze slapped Jake on the back before he moseyed over to lean against the railing of Midnight’s stall, arms in a casual fold while he propped a dusty boot to the lower wall. “Because all Sheridan asked for as a graduation gift was for somebody to teach her how to shoot, and we all know you’re the best shot on this ranch, my friend, and in the state, for that matter. So, naturally Uncle Finn and I thought it should be you.”
Naturally. A second groan slipped through Jake’s clamped lips as he dropped his forehead against Midnight’s saddle. Uncle Finn. Otherwise known as Mayor Griffin McShane. Otherwise known as the man who rescued Jake from the Virginia City orphanage at the age of thirteen, when he took him in as a “cowhand in training,” something he often did for homeless boys.
His employer.
His second father.
And the one man other than Blaze he’d do anything for.
Blaze cleared his throat. “And, of course, Sheridan thought you’d be perfect too,” he said, humor lacing his tone.
Oh, I just bet she did! Jake banged his head against the saddle over and over while Blaze’s laughter ricocheted off the barn walls, both of them fully aware that Sheridan had had a ferocious crush on Jake since he’d arrived at the Silver Lining Ranch. Which was just fine and dandy when she wore pinafores and bows at age four and overalls and dirt through age ten. But the moment she turned eleven, it seemed all she wanted to do was pretty up again in dresses and bows, which was fine if those dad-gum dresses hadn’t started sprouting curves at age sixteen. And now that she was an eighteen-year-old woman heading off to college in three months? Sweet mercy, Jake couldn’t wait for her to go!
Because the truth was that over the last two years, Sheridan Marie Donovan had begun filling out those gingham dresses and blue jeans a little too well to suit, unleashing wayward thoughts in Jake’s brain that no adopted big brother should have. Blaze always thought Jake tried to dodge Sheridan’s flirtations because he saw her as a “little sister” annoyance, always tagging on his heels. And he’d be partially right. She was an annoyance.
Almond-shaped eyes, as clear and turquoise as a glacier stream.
Long flaxen curls, as shiny as corn silk halfway to harvest.
And a petite body with more deadly curves than a sky-high mountain road.
Huffing out a heavy sigh, Jake stood up tall to face his best friend with a plea he’d given more than once over the last year. “Come on, Blaze—have a heart. I’m not comfortable around Sher since she’s all grown up and you know it, especially since she’s made it perfectly clear that she likes me as more than a big brother. So, why can’t one of the other hands just teach her? Clint is almost as good as I am with a gun, and Charlie is right behind, so why not one of them?
“You know why, Sully.” Blaze’s eyes crinkled in sympathy like always when Jake tried to dodge close interaction with his sister. “Neither Uncle Finn nor I are comfortable with any of the hands being around Sher but you, because you know how pie-in-the sky that girl is about romance. Blue blazes, she may be the smartest girl in the county when it comes to schoolin’, but she doesn’t own a lick of common sense when it comes to the real world, especially men. So, you’re the only one we trust since you’re immune to her.”
Yeah, immune. Like a bee to honey.
“Which is why you’re so perfect,” he continued in that quiet, arm-twisting tone, “because it’s you she wants to teach her. Heck, Sul, she’s practically your little sister, so you’re the big brother who can protect her by teaching her to shoot the derringer Uncle Finn bought her from Christmas.”
Jake stifled a grunt. Yeah, but who’s going to protect me?
“Face it. None of us are comfortable with Sher traipsing across the country on her own to attend college, especially since she’ll be taking trains back and forth for holidays. So, we all want to make sure she can shoot since we won’t be around, and we both know Uncle Finn has been too busy with town business to do it.” He held up his right hand, which was swathed in a bulky plaster of Paris cast on his wrist, thumb, and palm.” I’m as riled as a rhino with rabies that I hurt my shooting hand busting that bronc last week, so I can’t teach her, and Dash?”—Blaze wrinkled his nose at mention of Sheridan’s other older brother, who spent most of his time managing the Ponderosa Saloon—“well, let’s just say his talents lie in other areas, so that just leaves you.” Blaze pushed off from the stall to approach Jake with hands deep in his pockets and that dad-burned hang-dog look that said he understood completely.
Only he didn’t. Because if he did, he sure in the devil wouldn’t be asking Jake to do this. “Rule number one,” Finn McShane had told the cowhands when Sheridan turned sixteen, “is no one—and I mean no one—is to even look cross-eyed at my niece on this ranch no matter how much she flirts or bats her eyes, understood? Because if you do, you’ll be drawing a paycheck somewhere else branded with a flaming footprint on your butt.”
Jake swallowed hard. Oh, yeah, he understood, better than any cowhand on this ranch.
“The only exception I’ll allow,” Finn had continued, staring every single one of the cowhands down with his needle-thin gaze, “is maybe a dance or two at the annual rodeo.” His look of warning was tempered by the barest crook of a smile that in no way offered any leeway, “because I sure in the devil don’t want that girl to think she’s flat-out ugly.”
All the cowhands had laughed except Jake, who sure didn’t think it was funny. Not when Sheridan dogged his every step, fluttering those lashes so hard it gave him a stiff neck. And not when Finn had forced every man on his dad-burned ranch to take an oath of honor to “defend, protect, and ignore” his eldest niece who seemed hellbent on finding romance.
With me.
Which was fine when she wore pigtails and mud pies.
“Jake,” Finn had said later, taking him aside after last year’s rodeo dance when one of the newest cowhands, Murrell, had approached Sheridan several times, “I’m counting on you to be a big brother to Sheridan when Blaze, Dash, and I aren’t around. I like Murrell well enough, and I didn’t mind him asking Sher for a dance or two because that’s what the rodeo hoedown is for—an annual event for town folk to mingle.”
Finn’s gaze suddenly wandered into a distant stare over Jake’s shoulder, trailing off like his voice into what Jake sensed was a painful regret buried deep in his soul. “But I don’t want my niece ending up like her mother—so in love with the idea of love, she marries the wrong man, and so blasted young, she has two babies before she’s a full-grown woman.”
A sad smile shadowed the lips of this man Jake so admired as Finn’s memories seemed to take him far faraway. “Sheridan reminds me so much of my sister Peg—good girls both, but heads in the clouds about romance, thinking it’s the key to happiness.” The smile slowly faded, his eyes still in a glazed stare. “But for Peg, it was the key to destroying her life, her desire for love so overpowering that she”—his Adam’s apple hitched hard in his throat—“succumbed, bringing shame to herself and my family.” His mouth tamped tight, so imperceptibly that Jake might have imagined it. “And to her oldest son, who was born illegitimate until my brother-in-law finally married Peg when Blaze was almost a year.”
Jake gulped, not exactly sure what to say. “I’m sorry, sir—I had no idea.”
“I don’t wonder,” Finn continued in a monotone, still lost in his thoughts. “Blaze was so ashamed when he found out—from kids calling him a bastard, no less—that he tried to bury it deep, not telling anyone. I’ll wager even Maggie doesn’t know.”
Finn’s gaze suddenly snapped back to Jake, the resolve in his eyes as hard as the steel in his tone. “I’m telling you this for a reason, Son, because you’ve always been like a brother to Blaze and a son to me, and never one to judge.”
“No, sir.” Jake barely breathed, stock still as he stared wide-eyed at Finn.
“I’m telling you because I want to understand just why Blaze and I in particular are so overprotective of Sheridan.” One edge of his lip kicked up. “Or maybe obsessive might be a better word, to the point of infringing upon her freedom, as she would say, and she’s right. At least when it comes to men.”
Finn gouged the bridge of his nose, lids closed. “But the truth is, she’s so much like my sister that I … I …”—he opened his eyes, and Jake was shocked to see a sorrowful sheen glazing their depths—“I’m afraid to see her in a relationship before she’s able to handle it. She’s … she’s”—his throat ducked once again as a seed of a smile broke through, his affection for his niece as potent as his need to protect—“so blasted passionate and trusting and beautiful that I … I just want to keep her safe, you know?”
“Yes, sir,” Jake whispered in a hoarse voice, understanding Finn’s and Blaze’s overly restrictive guardianship better than he ever had before.
A long, wavering sigh slipped from Finn’s lips before he pinned Jake with a pointed stare that burned as intensely as his voice. “But … the biggest reason I hover over that girl is a promise I made my sister before she died. On her deathbed, Peg made me swear that I’d watch Sheridan and Shaylee like a hawk, seeing to it they both got an education instead of marrying in their teens like her, and that’s a promise I intend to keep, even if it kills me.”
Jake swallowed hard. Or me.
Finn tunneled a hand through his hair at the back of his head. “Which will be no easy task, mind you, especially with Sheridan. Heaven knows she’s always had her head in the clouds when it comes to romance and marriage, obsessed with doll weddings from the age of four. My saving grace, of course, is that her second favorite game was playing teacher.” His lips quirked in a fond smile as he wandered off again, clearly indicating his affection for his oldest niece. “I swear if that girl wasn’t marrying off her dolls”—his gaze flicked to Jake—“or you,” he said with a grin before veering off once more, “she was teaching them to read and write.” A chuckle slipped from his lips. “I suppose I should be grateful she wasn’t teaching them to cook or she might have burned the place down.”
Jake grinned along with him, remembering all the times Sher would pester Blaze and Dash to play wedding or school. His grin took a wry twist at the memory of the Donovan brothers ribbing him to no end when Jake was always chosen to be the groom or her star student.
“Nope,” Finn continued with a firm dip of his chin, “her mother wanted Sheridan to have the opportunity to get an education before settling down and so do I, which means I don’t want to smell even a whiff of romance around that girl for a long time to come. Because I have no doubt whatsoever that if Sheridan fell in love, I’d never be able to keep my promise to my sister because I wouldn’t put it past her to elope.” A scowl suddenly tainted his lips. “I practically had to hogtie her at the age of sixteen to get her even thinking about college at all. Argued with me for months on end that she had no intention of doing anything but getting married, period.” He grunted. “Over my dead body.”
He’d hooked Jake’s shoulder then with a firm clasp of his arm. “She’s always liked and respected you, Jake, mooning over you from the get-go, so in a way, you have more influence than Blaze, Dash, or me. That’s why I’m relying on you, Son, to help us keep her path clear till then.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake had said with a quick bob of his throat, forever grateful that the man who had saved his life could trust him with something as precious as family. “I give you my solemn word, sir, I’ll ward off any and all signs of romance till your niece comes home from college with a degree in her hand.”
“Thank you, Son—that means the world to me and greatly puts my heart at ease.” He reached to shake Jake’s hand.
Yeah? Jake swallowed a gulp as he shook it. And mine in panic mode ...
“Outside of Blaze and Dash, there’s no one I trust more to be a big brother to Sher, so don’t let me down, you hear?”
“No, sir.”
“Oh, and just one more thing.” He’d glanced around the barn as if he expected Sheridan to jump out of the hay at any moment, the smile in his eyes dimming to dead serious. “You can never, ever let her know about our agreement because she’s already miffed that Blaze, Dash, and I guard her like a pack of coyotes over a nest of rabbits. She expects us to be vigilant, of course, but not so much you, son, which means she won’t be as careful around you. So, if she does try to go astray, more than likely, you’ll probably be the first to know.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good boy,” he said with a firm slap on Jake’s back, tossing a grin over his shoulder on his way to the door. “Then this’ll be our secret, Jake, all right?”
“Yes, sir. Jake’s eyelids sank with a heavy sigh at the memory of that conversation with Finn he wished he’d never had. He suddenly jumped when Blaze cuffed him on the shoulder, jolting him back to the present where his best friend had just hog-tied him to temptation. “Thanks, buddy. We owe you for putting our minds at ease, knowing Sher is in good hands with a man we can trust.”
A man we can trust.
Stomach in knots, Jake watched as Finn walked out of the barn, burden free while his best friend carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Yeah. Now if I can just trust myself …

Order Now!

<< Go Back


Developed by Camna, LLC

This is a service provided by ACFW, but does not in any way endorse any publisher, author, or work herein.