Be My Texas Valentine (10 page)

But Logan had betrayed her.

The bitter truth lodged in the center of her heart like a double dose of Hostetter’s Celebrated Stomach Tonic.

A stillness washed over Rue Ann as seething anger replaced the pain. He’d never get another chance to hurt her. She was older now and far wiser. Life had been a strict taskmaster, but she’d learned her lesson well.

Soon she would be Mrs. Theodore Greely.

And life would go on. One day she might even be able to think of Logan without pain welling up from the deep wound inside.

“Are you okay, dear?” A woman’s quiet voice broke into her thoughts.

Startled, Rue Ann hastily forced a smile for Miss Emily Barlow. “I’m fine. I was just looking at the men’s hats, thinking I might get one for my father,” she fibbed, running a finger along the brim of a fine Stetson. “His birthday isn’t far off. But I haven’t a clue about his size so I suppose I’d best wait until my mother can come with me.”

Miss Emily patted her arm. “It’s so nice to see you back in town, dear. Some people around here have missed you.”

Rue Ann wasn’t sure who the
some people
were. It was best to let sleeping dogs lie where that was concerned. Instead she hugged the woman who dressed in black from head to toe and had done so as far back as Rue Ann could remember. If Miss Emily had worn any other color today, it would’ve been another shock. Her mother had told her that Miss Emily’s fiancé had died a week before they were to wed. It had so devastated the sweet lady that she remained locked forever in the moment of her grief. Sadness of it all swept through Rue Ann. She wouldn’t want that to happen to her.

“It’s nice to be missed.” She kissed Miss Emily’s pale, wrinkled cheek that was so thin the skin seemed scarcely able to cover her bones without tearing.

“How are you doing, dear? I’ve been quite worried about you.” Again, more of the tender patting.

Now why would Miss Emily worry? Studying at a women’s finishing school shouldn’t cause anyone to fret.

“I’m in the best of health, thank you.”

“There you are, Sister,” exclaimed Miss Charlotte, the other half of the matching Barlow set. Only this sister dressed all in white. They were salt and pepper. “Oh, Rue Ann. It’s been ages since we’ve seen you, hasn’t it, Sister?”

Miss Emily nodded in agreement, setting the black hat with yards of netting bobbing on her silver hair.

“Didn’t I see you talking with Mr. Cutter a few minutes ago?” Miss Charlotte continued without pausing for air, “I daresay he found the sight of you breathtaking. He’s been quite lonely, you know. That is, until he began courting Celeste Wiggins. Now the two are inseparable.” Miss Charlotte leaned close and whispered loudly in Rue Ann’s ear, “It’s rumored the two will wed soon.”

Pain once again rose swift and without warning. Rue Ann forced air past the huge lump in her throat.

So Logan Cutter was stepping out with Celeste.

Rue Ann had no idea how she’d handle this unpleasant situation. The fact that Logan and Celeste were keeping company drove the dagger deeper. She struggled to find a reply.

“Miss Charlotte, it’s no business of mine who Mr. Cutter chooses to spend his time with,” she finally managed quietly. “Lord knows he’s a free man.”

But why did he have to be involved with Celeste? The woman had spurned Rue Ann’s overtures of friendship at every turn.

Rue Ann had always felt like an ugly stepsister next to Celeste. Her mass of red curls was impossible to tame, and the row of freckles marching across her nose like so many foot soldiers gave her a childish air. Rue Ann had accepted long ago that she’d never be a raving beauty. Nor did she want to, she sternly reminded herself.

Logan Cutter had traded his relationship with Rue Ann for a thousand dollars. That was what she’d been worth to him. He was nothing but a Judas, and she was better off without him.

If only she could convince her heart of that.

Logan Cutter stared after Rue Ann until she vanished into Whipple’s Dry Goods Store. His mouth had gone dry. She was every bit as desirable as she was three years ago.

He thought he’d been prepared for the inevitable meeting after hearing that she’d returned to Shiloh. He’d tried to steel himself against the power of those jade green eyes and auburn hair that reminded him of beautiful autumn leaves.

But the minute she’d met his gaze, he was lost, thrown back to an innocent time when they’d lived and breathed each other’s presence.

If only he knew what had happened, he might make some sense of her sudden disappearance from town.

Logan gave himself a hard mental shake. Why dwell on has-beens? He needed to forget the taste of her lips and move on with his life. As indeed he was trying. Celeste Wiggins was everything a man desired in a wife. The woman was quite something with her silky golden hair and expressive lavender eyes. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to marry him. Why he held back, he couldn’t say exactly.

He only knew one thing—she wasn’t Rue Ann.

Someone touched his shoulder. “There you are, Logan. What size nails did you say you needed to pick up?”

The voice belonged to his older brother, Matthew Cutter, who had ridden into town with him to pick up some supplies. Matt and his wife lived on a small fifty-acre spread next to Logan and were trying to make a go of farming. Although it pretty much looked like all they’d succeeded in raising was a bumper crop of kids. Six of them so far.

“Gathering wool, little brother?” Matthew prodded, leaning against the hitching rail in front of the store.

“Of course not, why?”

“I asked what size nails you needed and you paid me no mind. You were a million miles away. What’s going on with you?”

“Just have my thoughts somewhere else.” His thoughts certainly weren’t on ranch repair. “I need a sack of ten-penny nails.”

“Do you want me to get them? I need to get back home as quick as possible. Lucy needs a sack of flour. She said if I dawdle, I won’t get that loaf of fresh bread or the apple pie I’ve had a hankering for.” Matthew pushed back the brim of his hat and scratched his forehead. “I saw you talking with Rue Ann.”

That figured. Probably half the town saw them. Just what he needed. He’d have to tell Celeste before someone else did.

“There wasn’t much talking going on. She was coming out of this dress shop here the very moment I was walking by and we collided. That’s all there was to it.”

“I can’t believe she threw you over for Theodore Greely.”

Logan was stumped as well. Rue Ann could choose from a dozen or so men who were far better suited than Greely. So why take up with a man of that ilk? He wished he knew.

“Yeah, well, she did and that’s that.” Logan tried to tear his gaze away from the door of Whipple’s Dry Goods. It seemed a lost cause, though. He wanted one more glimpse of Rue Ann.

“The shyster is nothing but a little beady-eyed stuffed shirt. Struts around town like he owns Shiloh and half of Texas. I still don’t know why Rue Ann’s father took the man into business with him. Typical lawyer, I reckon, but Greely sure rubs me the wrong way.”

Logan would gladly pay a fine if he could set the man back on his heels just once. He sighed. “Do you think your Lucy would fix me a pie if I asked her real nice-like?”

Nothing could improve his spirits like a homemade pie.

Matthew snorted. “If you’d quit mooning after Rue Ann and marry Celeste, you’d have all the fruit pies and whatnot you could eat. What’s the holdup?”

“That’s none of your business, big brother,” Logan snapped.

“You ask me, Celeste would make some man a mighty good wife. Might as well be you.”

“I didn’t ask you, though, did I?”

“You’re grouchier than a grizzly with a toothache. I wash my hands of the matter.” Matthew pushed away from the hitching rail. “You want to waste your time waiting for Rue Ann to come to her right mind, it’s no skin off my nose.”

“Keep your horseback opinions to yourself.”

“Fine. I’m heading to the mercantile. You coming?”

Just then Rue Ann emerged empty-handed from Whipple’s. Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You go on. I’ll catch up.”

This was as good a time as any to get some answers.

With long strides, Logan headed toward the woman who’d spurned his love. A look of surprise crossed her pretty features when she saw him coming. She whirled on her heels, lifted her heavy skirts, and in a near all-out sprint, aimed for her father’s law office.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Logan muttered under his breath, increasing his pace.

He caught up with her between the telegraph office and Doc Pritchard’s. Planting himself in her path, he grabbed her arm.

“Please unhand me this instant,” she demanded icily.

People had begun to stare, but Logan didn’t pay them any mind. “I will if you’ll tell me why you didn’t have enough gumption to come to me before you just packed up and left town.”

She hadn’t even bothered to trouble herself with a note to tell him where she was going. He’d spent the better part of two years trying to locate her but to no avail. He would’ve done the right thing and married her. He’d have done anything for her, gone to any lengths, swum any ocean, fought any dragon.

If only she’d trusted, loved him, enough to have come to him when her back was against the wall.

Instead she’d simply vanished. A wealthy state senator for a father had made that happen.

Deep, heavy sadness washed over him, so powerful it nearly dropped him to his knees.

Rue Ann gasped. “Me? Gumption? Of all the nerve!”

Whatever she was trying to pull wouldn’t work.

“Yes, you. You were the one who didn’t trust me to take care of you, who didn’t give me so much as a fare-thee-well.” Logan hardened his heart against the effects of her nearness, which lured him like a prideful she-wolf to a steel trap.

Fire flashed from the green depths of her eyes. And then strangely he thought he saw tears gathering, but decided it was a figment of his imagination because they vanished as soon as they formed.

“I said let me go,” she ordered from between clenched teeth. “You’re not going to get your pound of flesh today or any other.”

Logan believed there was a golden hour in every relationship where problems could be fixed. This was theirs. Even if they couldn’t return things to the way they were before, at least maybe they’d pass on the street without crossing to the other side. That would be a good start.

“I’m not after a pound of flesh. I simply want to know what happened. That too much to hope for?” Cutter asked.

“I know what you did,” she whispered angrily.

The anguish in her tone, the hurt in her eyes, bruised something deep inside him.

“What are you talking about?” He searched his mind for a hint of whatever he’d done. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember. Had the months erased his memory?

Rue Ann looked over his shoulder. Her green eyes widened as she jerked her arm from his grasp. “Now is not a good time.”

A stern male voice came from behind. “Sweetling, did you forget that I told you to meet me at three-thirty? You’re four and a half minutes late.”

Logan turned and stared into Theodore Greely’s hard, granite eyes. The man reeked with disapproval as he returned his ornate watch to his vest pocket. Logan had never wanted to hit anyone as much as he wanted to now. The two men sized each other up like two curs who couldn’t stand the scent of the other.

Forcing himself to unclench his fists, Logan smiled frostily. “It’s my fault. Miss Spencer and I were talking.”

“I’m sure you have nothing to say that would be relevant to anything.” Greely jerked Rue Ann’s arm. “Come along, sweetling.”

Rue Ann lowered her gaze as Greely propelled her, with force it seemed, toward her father’s law office.

Logan watched, powerless to intervene. Until the lady wanted and asked for his help, his hands were tied. Things were in a sorry state, and his confrontation with her hadn’t accomplished a thing except to raise Greely’s dander.

It wasn’t over yet, though. He still wanted an answer to his burning question.

And he meant to get it one way or another.

Chapter 2

The last thing Rue Ann wanted was to risk running into Logan Cutter again. But she had little choice in the matter.

Their nearest neighbors, the Williamsons, invited her and Theodore to the betrothal party for their daughter. And since Bethany had managed to snag one of the town’s most eligible bachelors, they’d spared no expense. The Williamsons were beyond delighted for a chance to crow a little.

The end of January wasn’t the most ideal time for such a social affair, but the crisp weather was clear and beautiful, especially on this night.

Buggies and buckboards packed every square inch around the barn. Seemed people from most all of the ranches had come.

Inside the Williamsons’ barn, Rue Ann cast a glance around the gathering, tapping her foot nervously. Feeling like a spring that’d been wound too tight and was about to come undone, she hugged the hostess. Pressing close beside her, Theodore Greely must’ve felt some anxiousness himself because he was clingier than usual. His cloying scent circled around her head.