Capture The Night (45 page)
What could she tell him? How could she possibly explain what was in her heart? All her life she’d been searching for a dream, and now it was within her grasp. She had a family, a father and a sister; and a beautiful home to return to. In France.
That was a long way from Texas and Brazos Sinclair.
One time, he’d told her he loved her. Once, down in that dungeon cell, where the possibility of their leaving alive appeared slim. He’d not mentioned the word love again, and Madeline wondered if he ever would. Drying her tears, she sighed and said simply, “I missed Rose.”
A shuttered look came over Brazos’s face. “I know, Maddie.” He shut the cabin door and leaned against it, his arms folded, the toe of one boot softly tapping the floor. Silence yawned between them so that every rumble and clang from the engine sounded like a roar. Tension mounted to such a pitch that Madeline wanted to scream.
When Brazos opened his mouth to speak, she knew by the noncommittal look in his eyes that she wouldn’t like what he had to say. “Your father says he’s taking the first ship out of Galveston bound for Europe.” Brazos hesitated for just a moment before he said, “Guess you’ll be goin’ with him and Rose.”
No words had ever hurt more. It was all she could do not to clutch at her stomach and moan aloud. But since acting was one of the numerous skills every good thief possessed, Madeline pasted a smile on her face and replied, “I guess so.”
Brazos pushed away from the door. He paced the room, its space limitations and his size requiring he pivot every four steps, and the more he walked, the more he grimaced. Madeline watched him closely, and the fiercer his scowl, the more she began to hope. “Since the day we met, you’ve talked about wanting a home and family,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants. “Well, you’ve got what you want.”
Madeline returned Rose to her crib, then turned to face her husband. She searched her mind for the right words to say, the words that would make him see what was in her heart, what had always been in her heart. “I’ve never belonged before, Brazos. Not to anyone or anyplace. That’s what I’ve wanted, to belong and to have someone belong to me.”
He stopped. Twice he opened his mouth to speak, twice he snapped it shut without uttering a word. Brazos stared at her, anguish reflected in his eyes. She answered him by allowing love to shine her own.
“Well, hell.” He lifted his gaze to the ceiling. “I tried, Maddie, I truly did. But I reckon I’ve damn well used up my share of nobility.”
Her heart pounded, and her knees felt weak as she asked, “What do you mean, Brazos?”
He flashed her a crooked grin that was rueful, unabashed, and downright wicked all at the same time. “I’m afraid I’m through with being nice about this. You’re not leaving me. I’m not giving you up.”
“You’re not?” Madeline asked, a fierce elation bursting within her like fireworks on a summer sky.
“I’m not.”
She wanted to fling herself into his arms, but she knew she shouldn’t. It wouldn’t do for the man to think he could order her around. So she said, “What makes you think you can stop me?”
He moved as swiftly as the wind, grabbed her hand, and tugged her out of the stateroom and into the one next door. She saw his saddlebags on the table beside the bed and realized this was his room. His bed.
“Why do I think I can stop you?” he repeated, advancing on her like a predator after his prey. “Because I love you. Because, amazing as it may be, you love me, too.” He stroked her cheek with a gentle finger and Madeline shuddered as a wave of desire swept through her.
Brazos pulled her into his arms, holding her firmly, but gently. “Because, Madeline Sinclair you don’t belong to your father and your sister. You belong to me. I belong to you. I’m never letting you go, and I’ll be damned before I allow you to let loose of me.” He brushed kisses against her forehead, her eyelids, her cheeks. Just before he lowered his mouth to hers, he swore, “Hell, I’ll go to France. I’ll go wherever you want to go. I’ll live wherever you want to live. I’ll be happy as a ‘coon in a corncrib as long as we’re together. I love you, Beauty.”
And then he kissed her a deep, passionate, arousing kiss. Madeline thrilled at the rough, erotic touch of his tongue against hers. She exalted in the proof of his hunger pressing hotly against her and answered it with a slow roll of her hips.
Somehow, through the haze of desire, his words drummed into her senses. “No, Brazos,” she said, pulling away.
“No?”
She nodded. “Yes. ‘No.’”
His words sounded hoarse as he asked, “Why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“You don’t want to,” he repeated scornfully. “Well, honey, that’s not what your body was telling me a second ago.”
“Not that,” Madeline said, waving away his comment. “France. I don’t want to go to France. I want to stay here in Texas, Brazos. I’m a Sinclair and all the Sinclairs live in Texas, right?”
Brazos scowled. “All but for Aunt Penelope. She travels with a circus in Europe, so I would have family over there, too.”
“Circus?” Madeline tilted her head and looked at him. “High-wire act?”
“Bearded lady. She’s actually an aunt by marriage, so you needn’t worry about our daughters, Maddie.”
“That’s a relief.”
Brazos sat on the edge of his bed and rubbed his chin with his palm. “You really don’t want to return to France?” She nodded, and he said, “What about Julian, Maddie? And Rose? Hell, I don’t know that I could stand to live without Rose being in our lives.”
Suddenly, a sense of peace and purpose settled over Madeline. She sat beside Brazos and took his hand in hers. “We’ll work it out, Brazos. I know we will. I’m good at schemes, remember?”
“Oh, I remember all right.” He lay back against the mattress and pulled her down beside him. “Seems like we never finished that fight we were having a good time back. Schemes and stealing. We need to talk about that, Maddie.”
“Later,” she said, kissing the hollow at the base of his neck.
“Later,” he agreed, rolling to his side and sweeping his hands beneath her skirts.
For some hours after that, they did all their conversing with their bodies.
BRAZOS GRUNTED as Madeline’s elbow caught him in the ribs. “Wake up, Sinclair. You’re been asleep for ages, and there’s planning to be done.”
Slowly, he opened one eye and tried to glare. But he felt too good to glare, so it turned out more as a leer. She gouged him with her elbow again. “Ouch, Maddie.” He lifted his head up and this time managed a respectable glower. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“I’ve an idea.”
“Wonderful,” he said glumly.
She snuggled against him, smiling like a cat who’d knocked the lid off the butter churn. “We’ll convince my papa to stay in Texas. He can join the La Réunion colony, and he and Rose can live—”
“Hold it right there, wife. That dog won’t hunt,” Brazos said, gripping her arms and moving her away from him. “I’m not living and raising my children among a bunch of people who intend to establish something called a Court of Love whose leaders are referred to as fairies, fakirs, and genies.”
“Why is it you only remember the parts of Fourier’s teachings that deal with sex, Brazos?”
He ignored her. He’d do just about anything for Madeline, but a man had to draw a line somewhere. Living at La Réunion was his line. “Now, I know that they’re all not amoral—folks like the Brunets are good people—but I don’t liken to the idea of all those men looking at you with community in their eyes.”
Madeline giggled. “Brazos, I’ve told you before that La Réunion is not entirely committed to all of Fourier’s theories. But I don’t have to live there. Maybe we could move across the river to Dallas.”
“Hell, no.” Brazos lay back down and pulled her on top of him. “That’s too close to that pretty-boy wagon master. I don’t want you within a hundred miles of him.”
“Do you mean Ben Litty?” Madeline asked innocently.
He pinched her bottom. “You are wicked, Mrs. Sinclair. Yes, I mean Ben Litty.”
She nibbled at his ear and whispered, “You needn’t worry about Ben. I told him long ago that I was in love with you, and that I wasn’t giving up on our marriage.”
“Damn, Maddie. You told him before you told me?”
“He was ready to hear it.”
“Oh, well, I guess I can’t argue with that.”
“No, you can’t.” Madeline’s teeth nipped at his lower lip as she added, “I don’t really want to live in Dallas, anyway. That’s too close to your dear friend Juanita.”
Brazos licked Madeline’s neck and said, “Not unless you call an ocean away close. The day your pa and I left La Réunion, Monsieur Bureau was fixing to take Juanita with him back to Paris. I suspect they’re halfway there by now.”
“Juanita in France? Well, if nothing else could convince me to stay in Texas…” Her fingers trailed up his thigh.
“Don’t tempt me, Maddie. You plumb wore me out last night. Give me a chance to build my strength back up.”
She bit his ear. “Yeow,” he cried, but he grinned while he did it.
She rolled off him and nestled against his side. “Where will we live, Brazos? Near your parents?”
“I own a bit of land along the Brazos River,” he told her, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair. “It’s pretty—lots of oak, rolling hills, good farmland. It’s near the orphanage, too. If you’ve a mind to, we could settle there. I’d even be willing to spend a month or two at La Réunion helping those folks prepare for their first winter. I’m telling you, Maddie, unless they change their ways, that colony doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of surviving.”
“If we go back, I could tell the colonists good-bye. The Brunets could move in to our house. Lillibet likes it so much more than those the colonists are building,” Madeline absently mused. She was remembering when Sister Cecilia told her about the plantation Brazos had purchased all those years ago. The place where he’d intended to build a home and raise a family. “The land you own sounds like a lovely place to live, Brazos.”
Brazos smiled and tenderly kissed the top of her head. “You think there’s a chance we could convince Julian to stay?”
“I’ve learned to believe that anything I wish for can come true.”
“That reminds me,” Brazos said. He rolled over and pulled open the drawer beneath the bed. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Just do as I say, Beauty.”
“That’ll be the day.”
“Don’t I know it.” He laid three items in her lap. Madeline lifted the first, a sheet of paper and read the writing upon it. “What is this?”
“Recipes. My sister wrote them down for me. I want you to pick which one I should bake.” She stared at him in confusion, and he sighed. “Maddie, I once told you that the day you became my equal was the day I tied on an apron—”
“—and baked a cake,” she finished. “Why, Brazos Sinclair.”
“You asked for chocolate. I figure it’s long overdue. Show me which one you want.”
Laughter bubbled up inside her, “I don’t care about the cake. It’s the apron I want to see. I’ve one at La Réunion that has a lace collar and flowers…”
“Don’t press your luck, woman.”
Smiling, she picked up the second item, the blue velvet bag that had contained all of her stolen articles. The third was her magical mirror. Brazos said, “I left La Réunion in a pretty big hurry, but I figured you’d be wanting this stuff, so I tucked it in my saddlebags.”
“Oh, Brazos,” Madeline sighed, her heart swelling with love. She pulled open the bag and peered inside. Frowning, she dumped out the contents. “Some things are missing.”
“They were mine to start with, Maddie. It’s only right I took ‘em back.”
“Your watch and your gun I understand.” She lifted her brows in a silent question.
His voice held a note of defensiveness as he answered, “That golf ball really is special to me, Maddie.”
Smiling, she shook her head and lifted her mirror. Her fingers traced the gems and filigree on the back; then ever so slowly, she turned it over and gazed into the glass. Tears of joy trickled down her cheeks as she saw reflected in her mirror a new image, one she’d never dreamed before.
A two-story brick house stood on the rise of a hill within calling distance of a slow-moving river. A wooden veranda painted white stretched along three sides, and in the yard, a rope swing hung from the branch of an ancient oak tree. Children played on the lawn. Rose, perhaps nine or ten, pushed a younger child, a girl with gleaming blond hair and sparkling blue eyes, in the swing. Two boys played marbles while another boy stood beside Brazos, an older Brazos, but even more handsome with a touch of gray at his temples. Brazos was showing the boy how to swing a golf club while Julian Desseau waved at an approaching carriage carrying André and Lillibet Brunet and three boys.
Madeline didn’t see herself in the picture, but she knew she was there because she could hear her own laughter at the antics of a toddler chasing a golf ball on the grass.
“What is it, Beauty?” Brazos asked, wrapping his hand around hers, the one that held the enchanted mirror.
“It’s wonderful, Brazos,” she told him softly. “Obviously, we all will live happily ever after.”
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