Cactus Flower (Gone-to-Texas Trilogy) (52 page)

      
“Oh, just think of how beautiful it once must have been,” Charlee breathed as she watched the bell tower and dome of the basilica come into view. The limestone mortar had crumbled, and the elaborate carved stone facade above the doors gave only a sad hint of what had once been the grandeur of imperial Spanish architecture, now a neglected sentinel of bygone glory.

      
Slade pulled the wagon up in the shade of a copse of willow trees beside the bubbling river's edge. A narrow band of green meandered alongside the river, while the surrounding open landscape was caught dusty and brown in the dry hues of a rainless autumn.

      
Jim jumped from the wagon and reached up to help Charlee down. Nervously, she handed the heavy basket to him and watched him deposit it effortlessly on the ground with one hand. The cat pounced immediately after it, but Mutt had to remove his much larger and clumsier frame to the rear of the wagon to leap down. Slade stood patiently waiting for her to gather her full skirts and let him help her down. He could feel the tension in her tiny body as he swung her to the ground as easily as the lunch hamper.

      
She immediately swished free of the disquieting grip of his large hands, which spanned her waist so easily. Her own hands’ touching of his shoulders was no less disturbing. Not wishing for any close physical contact, she quickly skipped off toward the grassy shade of one large willow.

      
‘This is the perfect place for a picnic, I think,” she pronounced while kneeling with her skirts spread in a graceful arc beside the river. She leaned over and ran one hand along the cool, sandy shallows of the water, splashing it playfully. “Full of fish, Hellfire, old boy,” she teased. ‘Too bad you hate to get wet.”

      
The cat ambled over and rubbed against her, while Mutt watched like a woebegone outcast from the sidelines. Jim sat the hamper down and then reached inside for the blanket folded on top. Spreading it out, he made a grand gesture for her to sit down.

      
“Milady, your repast awaits.” His smile was so ingenuous and boyish, she found it irresistible.

      
Charlee sat on the blanket and opened the basket to remove the enormous feast. “Roast pork, fancy German potato salad, even an apple pie—Weevils didn't make this,” she said, eyeing and sniffing the culinary perfection displayed before her.

      
Slade laughed. “We did want to eat the meal, didn't we? I brought it from town this morning. Your new cook, Mrs. Raufing, prepared it especially for me.”

      
“You can charm women when it suits you,” she said petulantly, irritated that her employee jumped to do his bidding so precipitously. He had taken charge of her boardinghouse just as easily as he had taken charge of her whole life!

      
He watched the shifting play of emotions cross her face as she unpacked the food. Sitting down beside her, he was careful not to move too close to her. “We have to talk, Charlee,” he said quietly.

      
She looked up. “I thought you wanted to enjoy the meal, not get indigestion right off.”

      
He chuckled. “All right. Eat first, then talk.” He placed a generous slab of the spicy roast on each plate, along with a dollop of the rich potatoes and some green beans in vinaigrette, then tore off two hunks of black bread and slathered them with butter. Hellfire waited patiently at his side until he finished with the butter, then put one tentative paw forward and stretched his neck to an incredible length, inhaling the irresistible fragrance. With a pat to the battered head, Slade laughed and offered him the remainder of the butter.

      
Charlee poured cool white wine into tumblers while she watched the interplay between the cat and the man. Was everything she thought her own to be usurped by this arrogant Texian? They exchanged a plate for a glass, and ate and drank in silence, broken only by the sound of the cat's rasping tongue as he attacked the butter noisily.

      
Mutt, eyeing the preoccupied cat, slowly eased near Charlee on the far side of the blanket, keeping the mistress between him and Hellfire's line of vision. Picking bits of pork from her plate, she fed him and talked to him while everyone ate. “You need Asa to take you out for a good long walk by the creek and bag a few squirrels, don't you, boy?”

      
Jim watched her, surrounded by her critters on two sides, like a princess holding court in the countryside.

      
“You ever miss going squirrel hunting yourself, Charlee? Baggy boys' clothes and all the freedom to roam that way?” He watched her consider her reply carefully.

      
“Sometimes. Not as much as at first. When I went to Deborah's and she made me dress like a lady and learn manners, I'd dream of running barefoot through the creek every night. But then after...” She paused and looked up at him uneasily, as if she were about to reveal too much.

      
“After what?”

      
He knew
. She reddened in mortification, angry at his presumption, afraid of his ability to read her. “You know I wanted you to notice me back then, to think of me as a woman, not just a...tomboy.” She sighed. “But it never worked out the way I wanted.”

      
“Oh, lady, I noticed you.” He let out a long, low whistle and lay back on his elbows, stretched out on the blanket, looking up at her. “How I noticed you that day at the pool. My water sprite.”

      
“There, you see, that's just what I mean! You were spying on me, watching me in the...the altogether,” she stammered. “That's not the way you'd treat a lady. Telling me I danced out of step, manhandling me and embarrassing me and—”

      
Just then a furious hiss rent the air, followed by a ferocious growl. Slade had tossed the scraps from his plate into the grass beyond the tree while listening to Charlee's diatribe. Both Mutt and Hellfire took off after the treats, colliding over a particularly juicy pork bone. The cat stood arched with tail up straight, while the dog lowered his head and stuck out his neck while emitting a continuous low, warning growl.

      
Charlee clapped her hands sharply, breaking the stalemate. “You two calm down. There's plenty for each of you. See, here.” She tossed a hunk of cheese to each of them, throwing wide so each had to turn and back off farther from the other to devour his prize.

      
Jim quickly retrieved the bone of contention and placed it in the hamper. Sitting down beside her again, he smiled and said, “You know, we've been just like those two from the day we met.”

      
“Fighting like cats and dogs, you mean?” A wobbly smile appeared half unwillingly. “I remember how I looked in that mud wallow after I rescued my poor defenseless feline from that ferocious dog! If I had only known then how well he could defend himself, I could have saved myself a lot of grief!” She looked down at her hands, clenched tightly at her sides.

      
“So, you weren't always a model of decorum. You still aren't. I have bruises from that dunking in the fountain I'm sure to carry to my grave, but I love you anyway, Charlee. I don't want you to change...just to many me. I guess I went about it all wrong, luring you back here and trying to force you to say yes, but dammit, it seemed every time I tried to talk to you in town, some explosion or other occurred.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he sat up, leaning forward in earnest entreaty.

      
She sat stiffly, staring out at the river, not daring to look at him. “What you're saying, Jim, is that you'll do your duty and marry me now that Tomasina is out of your life.”

      
He took a deep breath while he frantically sought a way to compose his thoughts, and to repress the urge to pummel that mulish hard head of hers. “Charlee, I never loved Sina. I only thought I did when I was a green boy. I’ve told you before my family and hers had made an agreement. I felt honor bound to go through with it. But when you came into my life, everything changed.”

      
“Not so I noticed! You seduced me, but you treated her with respect. She was a lady and I was a nobody,” she spat, furious hurt tears gathering in her darkened green eyes. “Even when you found out she was a traitor, in league with a murderer, you protected her! My God, even your fancy piece in town looked just like her. Consolation after Sina was gone, Jim?” Her eyes were full of accusation.

      
“You mean Edith?” he asked incredulously. “You thought she looked like Sina? They both have black hair, for God's sake! That's all.”

      
She knelt now, hands on her hips, glaring at him furiously. “You mean to sit there and tell me you didn't pick Edith because she looked amazingly like your lost ladylove?” she railed.

      
He rolled back on his elbows again and laughed. “Jesus, if you'd seen my other options at the bordello, you wouldn't be surprised I took Edith! It was either her or a horse-faced blonde, a chubby Indian girl, or a redhead wearing enough paint to coat a two-story house! It never crossed my mind that Edith resembled Sina. Anyway, she was just a conniving schemer, and I was getting rid of her that day by the fountain, no matter how it looked at the time. I don't want any more casual liaisons with whores. I want marriage with you.” He knelt up and caught her hands before she could retreat from her awkward position and avoid him.

      
She forced herself to look in his eyes despite the pain it cost. “You let Tomasina go to save her from punishment, but it also cost you your first choice for a bride. I don't like being second choice, Jim.” She tried to break free of his grip, but he held her small fists prisoner in his large hands.

      
“You are going to listen and listen good, Miss Know-It-All,” he gritted furiously. “I didn't help Sina escape just so she could attach herself to another stupid rich old man and kill him off to inherit his fortune.” At her look of startled incredulity, he went on. “I'm suffering under no illusions about what she's capable of. I only wanted to protect her family name. I owed that to her father and my own. Can you understand that, Charlee?”

      
She couldn't tear free of his hypnotic eyes. “Yes, I suppose so, but she's gone. How did she escape?”

      
“With an Englishman. I had to do the president a favor and let a British agent have something of value. We made a forced bargain of sorts.” His eyes suddenly took on a devilish glint. “Tell me, Charlee, did you ever hear of an order of nuns called the Little Sisters of Mary Magdalene?”

      
Charlee thought for a moment. “Yes, they had a convent in St. Genevieve. A French order, very strict, total isolation from the outside world, vows of silence and complete self-sufficiency. Once a woman goes behind the barred walls, she never comes out again.” A dawning understanding began to spread across her face. “You don't mean...you didn't!”

      
He nodded in mock gravity. “Of poverty, chastity, obedience, and silence, I expect the silence part will be hardest for Sina. You should have heard her shriek when I broke the news to her! You see, there's a convent of the good sisters outside New Orleans. Conveniently, my British adversary had orders to embark for home from that port city. If he ever expected to set foot in Texas again, he had to deliver an unwilling traveler to her new vocation behind those imposing barred walls.”

      
“But surely she'd refuse,” Charlee questioned, even as her eyes gleamed at the thought of Tomasina Carver outfitted in shapeless brown sackcloth.

      
“It was that or the district court in Houston. I sent a letter ahead of her with a sizable endowment to the order. They understood she was of unstable mind and required protective custody when Kennedy delivered her, probably bound and gagged. She won't get her hooks into another man, or kill anyone again, Charlee. It was the best compromise I could arrange because no Texas court would hang a woman of good family…even a murderous bitch.” He held his breath while he waited for her reaction.

      
It began with a tiny giggle. He let a low chuckle of pure relief escape. She responded with a full-fledged laugh, rocking back on her heels to fall on the blanket, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as he rolled down beside her.

      
They lay sprawled side by side, facing one another, and the laughter died. He reached a hand over to smooth a lock of wayward hair from her cheek. “I love you, Chastity Charlene McAllister, only you, always you. I've made a lot of mistakes, and I expect I'll make a lot more where you're concerned. But I want to marry you and no one else.”

      
“Even if I don't always act like a lady? I have a rotten temper—”

      
“So do I. And I don't want a perfect, cool shell of a lady. I want a woman—a Texas woman, a woman as beautiful yet tough and resilient as a cactus flower. Will you be my Cactus Flower?”

      
“Life won't ever be dull, will it?” she ventured, her fingers trailing along his jaw.

      
“Asa asked me if I ever told you I loved you, and I realized I never had, until today. Of course,” he said wryly, “you never gave me much of a chance.”

      
“We have lots of time now,” she said softly, waiting to hear the words once more.

      
“I love you, Charlee. I think I have ever since that day I saw you frolicking naked in the swimming hole, singing that bawdy song. God, I couldn't get the picture of you out of my mind, asleep or awake.” He pulled her to him and began to rain soft nibbling kisses on her face.

      
Breathlessly she replied, “I loved you even before that—from the first time I ever saw you, towering over me so forbiddingly when I rescued a stray cat from Asa's dog. I never wanted to be a woman until that moment.”