Be My Texas Valentine (13 page)

“I just want to know something about you.”

He sighed. “I don’t know how this is going to change anything. My father is Ebenezer Greely. He was never married to Sally Stone although they lived together as man and wife for thirty years and bore fifteen children. We all lived in a two-room dugout ten miles from Fredericksburg. There was never enough of anything—enough food, enough clothes, enough love. We lived like a bunch of dirty cockroaches, always scurrying around looking for a measly bite of anything to put in our bellies. Many were the times we wrestled each other for a morsel of food.”

Rue Ann’s heart broke. She couldn’t imagine the type of life he’d had. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been so hard.”

“Hard doesn’t describe it.” He rubbed his eyes as though to rid himself of the images. “It was impossible. When my mother died, I left there and never looked back. I made a good life for myself working in your father’s law office. He told me I have a bright future.”

“I’m sure you do. Thank you for sharing your past. I can now understand the reasons behind some of the things you said.”

But Rue Ann couldn’t give up her dream of having three boys and two girls. God in heaven, she wanted children more than anything in this world! She just hoped that Theodore would change his mind once they’d married and settled down.

“Theodore, could you possibly reconsider living in the hotel? Could we at least have a house? Please?”

He leaned to place a peck on her cheek. “We’ll see. It’s difficult to deny you, sweetling.”

She raised her hand to touch her cheek. Though she better understood why Theodore was the way he was, she didn’t know how long or if she could live without physical affection.

It sounded like he didn’t intend to show her much attention once they tied the knot.

Her heart sank like a rock.

If she couldn’t bear children or engage in marital bliss, why was she marrying Theodore? He seemed to want nothing more than a cook and maid. And if they had to live in the hotel, he must not want a cook either, for they’d take their meals in the dining room.

How long could she survive without touching, kissing, and intimate conversation? How could anyone?

Her mouth couldn’t have dried more if she’d rinsed it with alum.

Chapter 5

Logan didn’t know how he’d manage to live without Rue Ann.

A lifetime was awfully long. His would indeed be lacking excitement and passion without her in it.

But it was apparent that he’d better start learning to cope fast, for the lady had shunned him.

Dust rising from the road caught his attention. The injured dog that he’d named Sheba rose to sit on her haunches and perked up her ears. Ever since he’d rescued and brought her to the ranch, she’d remained close to his side. She’d proven an excellent companion.

He squinted into the sun, trying to see the buggy that had turned onto his property. It wasn’t his brother or sister-in-law. In fact he couldn’t imagine who was coming to call in the middle of the afternoon.

He laid down the string of barbed wire that he was using to repair a fence. Tugging off his thick leather gloves, he went to meet the visitors.

As they came closer, he could see bonnets and skirts flying in the breeze created by the fast-moving buggy. Then through the cloud of dust he made out the gray hair and wrinkled faces of the spinster Barlow sisters.

“Now what on earth are Miss Emily and Miss Charlotte doing out here?” he muttered. They could be lost, he supposed. Older folks seemed prone to forgetfulness and were easily turned around. He covered the last few feet between him and the buggy and offered a hand to the two women.

When their feet were safely on the ground and he’d waited for the sisters to set their hats to rights, he asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure of having such a charming pair of visitors?”

“Mr. Cutter, how lovely to see you,” trilled Miss Emily, who was outfitted as usual in her legendary funeral weeds.

Miss Charlotte, in her big white hat, which on a man would be called a ten-gallon variety, and yards of ivory and yellowed fragile lace, piped up, “Sister and I have a matter of the utmost importance to discuss, Mr. Cutter.”

“Then please come into the house, ladies, and make yourselves comfortable.”

Sheba trotted along beside Logan and took her normal place on the rug in front of the stone hearth in the small parlor.

Once seated, Miss Charlotte retrieved the ivory fan dangling by a string on her arm, flipped it open, and began to stir the air. “I told Sister that we’d interrupt your work and I saw that was the case when we rode up. She never listens to a word I say.”

“You’re not always right.” Miss Emily shot her sister a warning glare. “Many’s the time you had to eat a mess of crow. I recall in the afternoon on June twenty-fifth, 1841, that you were most certainly wrong when you said Mr. Ashton Tidewater would not ask me to marry him. But he did for a fact.”

Miss Charlotte perched on the edge of her chair like a fidgety bird that didn’t know whether it wanted to take flight or sit on its nest. Her back was as stiff as a whalebone corset. The woman sniffed and fanned harder. “And then he got in that dreadful duel and couldn’t outshoot that blowhard Marvin Gatsby.” Miss Charlotte turned to Logan. “Papa always said Sister could do better than Mr. Tidewater. We had to bury the man on what would’ve been his and Sister’s wedding day. And—”

Logan took advantage of Miss Charlotte’s pause for a quick intake of air. “Can I get you ladies some refreshment? I can heat you some mulled cider.”

“That’s mighty nice of you to offer, Mr. Cutter, but we really won’t be here that long. We must get back to town as soon as we have that word with you that we came for.”

Logan hid his agitation and eased back into his seat. He desperately needed to get that barbed wire strung. “Then please let’s get to it.”

Miss Emily smoothed her black crepe skirt. “It’s about our dear beloved friend Rue Ann Spencer.”

A jolt ran through him at the mention of the lady who’d occupied his thoughts ever since she’d come back to Shiloh. “What about her?”

If the Barlow sisters asked him to shoot the little weasel Teddy Greely, he’d gladly do so in a heartbeat. Nothing would please him more than giving the pip-squeak his just deserts.

Miss Emily’s hat bobbed when she leaned closer and patted his hand. “Mr. Cutter, I’ll be perfectly frank here. We don’t like Theodore Greely. He’s all wrong for our lovely Rue Ann. She deserves to be happy. She deserves someone like you.”

Logan raised his hand to stop the woman. “Ladies, you’re wasting your time and energy here. Miss Spencer has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing more to do with me. I have no choice but to respect her wishes.”

“Oh posh! The woman is only trying to see how hard you’ll work to get her back. Haven’t you heard that things that come easy are rarely appreciated?” Miss Emily’s hat slipped at an angle over one ear. She pushed it back in place.

Charlotte Barlow nodded in agreement. “We have it on good authority that Rue Ann still carries feelings in her heart for you.”

Was that true or only wishful thinking? He’d gladly walk through fire if only Rue Ann waited at the end of the pit for him.

“Did Rue Ann send you out here?”

Miss Emily’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not. We came of our own volition because we can’t bear to see you and Rue Ann marry the wrong people. Nothing causes us more pain. We want to see you two back together, like you should be.”

Logan stood. “I’ve done all I can concerning this matter, ladies. Now, I really have to get back to work. That fence won’t repair itself, and I have a herd of cattle arriving tomorrow.”

Charlotte Barlow rose also. “Trust us, Mr. Cutter. We know about affairs of the heart. Just don’t give up on Rue Ann. She’s a fine woman and you shouldn’t let her get away.”

Didn’t the two sisters understand?
Rue Ann didn’t want him.
There, he’d said it to himself, and the truth hurt.

“I appreciate the advice, honestly I do. But even if I’m inclined to take your words to heart, I have Celeste to consider. I can’t, I won’t, hurt another.”

Miss Emily pushed herself from her chair in the small parlor. “Miss Wiggins will find another who’s more suited to her. Such as Mr. Greely. Now, he’d make a fine match for the woman.”

Logan helped the sisters to their buggy and watched them until they careened around the bend in the road. Though it touched him that the two meddling women wanted to fix the problem between Rue Ann and him, it wasn’t possible. They might as well be content to go home and tend to their own knitting and forget the impossible.

On the way back to town, Charlotte Barlow kept a firm hold on the reins and addressed her younger sibling. “Sister, I think that went well. Do you think we put a bee in his bonnet?”

“I do indeed. We’ve set the ball rolling in the right direction. Our plan might need a little more tweaking, though, in order to succeed.” Emily giggled and rubbed her hands together. “This is going to be such fun.”

Rue Ann rode down Shiloh’s Hayes Street and stopped in front of Mrs. Fitzhugh’s Dress Shop. She dismounted and tied her horse to the hitching rail.

She had no idea why she’d come to check on her wedding dress when her heart wasn’t in a wedding. After yesterday’s eye-opening conversation with Teddy, as Logan insisted on calling him, marriage was the farthest thing from her mind.

But her father insisted, as he had from the beginning, that she go through with the sham or else he’d cut her out of his will. Her brother would inherit Bent Tree and everything else.

No one loved the ranch more than she. The land was in her blood. She breathed the same air as her ancestors who settled Shiloh and Hays County when Texas was fighting for independence. This was her birthright. She’d not give it up.

Rue Ann’s boots struck the wooden sidewalk as she strode to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. An awful racket came from the back of the dress shop.

Curious, she moved in the direction of the sound. When she cleared the corner, she saw that the noise originated from the outhouse. Someone was bellowing like a stuck pig and banging on the door for all they were worth.

Moving closer, she could see a board had lodged against the door, trapping the person inside.

A crowd had gathered, drawn by the commotion.

Rue Ann was the first to reach the necessary and wrenched the board free. A woman burst from the structure with a sudden lunge. But as she cleared the door, a bucket fell from the roof onto her head and thick, gooey molasses oozed down her face and covered a fancy dress that most likely cost a pretty penny.

The throng of people laughed. Two of the people with front-row seats were Miss Emily and Miss Charlotte Barlow. They tittered and whispered to each other.

The victim of the prank yanked the bucket off her head and slung it.

With the woman’s head unencumbered, Rue Ann recognized Celeste as the outhouse occupant, and to say that the woman was livid was an understatement.

She looked like a soggy pancake with her prized hair plastered to her scalp and her dress hanging limp on her voluptuous frame.

Celeste caught sight of Rue Ann through the mess. “You! You did this!”

Rue Ann turned to go but Celeste grabbed her arm. “Oh no you don’t, I’m going to make you pay for this, senator’s daughter or not.”

“I didn’t do this. I just rode into town and heard the commotion and came around the dress shop.”

Celeste Wiggins used her fingers and both palms to dig some of the molasses from her eyes. “I’m sure Theodore would like to know the kind of woman he’s marrying. And Logan needs to find out what he escaped by the skin of his teeth,” she snapped.

“If it’ll make you feel better, go ahead and spread your venom. Do what you need to do. You’ll be telling lies, though.”

Just then Mrs. Fitzhugh appeared on the scene. “I watched Rue Ann ride up and hitch her horse to the rail in front of my dress shop. She couldn’t have played the prank on you.”

Celeste sputtered like a candle that had burned all the wax and left nothing but the charred wick. “Well, she would’ve if she’d thought of it. She delights in making me a laughingstock.”

The way Celeste acted, Rue Ann had ruined her every chance she got, which couldn’t be farther from the truth. Rue Ann had never done anything to the woman.

Miss Charlotte stepped forward and handed Celeste a wet towel. “Better watch what you say about Rue Ann, missy. She’s our friend. You’re not fit for her to wipe her feet on.”

Without another word, Celeste snatched the towel and stomped toward her home.

Lured by the sweet molasses, a swarm of bees circled her head. Celeste finally threw the towel over her head and took off running with a pack of dogs giving chase, barking and growling around her feet.

Miss Emily put her arms around Rue Ann and hugged her. “That hussy doesn’t need to be running loose. She’s crazier than a Bessie bug. Try not to let her upset you.”

“I learned a long time ago that I can’t control what others do or say. The episode embarrassed her dreadfully, though.”

Miss Charlotte sniffed. “It’s good for that one to be taken down a notch. Celeste is too prissified for my tastes.”

Rue Ann returned to the dress shop for another fitting of her wedding dress. Within minutes she stood in front of the mirror admiring the silk and satin emerald creation. It was the most beautiful dress she’d ever seen. But then it should be, seeing the amount of money her father had forked over for it.

Her stomach was a mass of nerves as she fingered the rows of seed pearls and ruffles. This was all wrong. She couldn’t go through with the arranged marriage.

She got back into her riding skirt and jacket and left the little shop.

It was time she talked to her father. It was time she told him he couldn’t run her life. And it was past time she took charge of her own destiny.

The house was quiet when she entered through the kitchen. She wondered if anyone was home. But as she neared her father’s study, she heard low voices. She recognized her father’s gruff baritone. And the other voice belonged to Theodore.