Lorraine Heath (14 page)

Dallas crossed his arms over the top railing and stared at the stars. Spending the day with his brother’s family had sharply brought home just how much was missing from his own life: not only his son, but the warm glances Houston and Amelia had exchanged throughout the day that had revealed the depth of their love for each other without a single word being spoken.

He didn’t expect Cordelia to ever look at him the way Amelia looked at Houston: as though he hung the moon and stars. If he were a kind man, he’d set Cordelia free, send her back to her father without ever knowing the complete taste of her mouth, the feel of her flesh within his palms, the sound of her cries as he poured his seed into her.

But he wasn’t a kind man. He wanted to kiss her again, more deeply than before, his mouth devouring hers. He wanted to skim his hands over her breasts, across her narrow waist, and along her slender hips. He wanted to hear her gasps, sighs, and moans.

He wanted her in his bed—he groaned in frustration. She was already in his bed. His problem was that he didn’t know how to get himself back into his bed without knocking on her door and seeing the fear reflected in her eyes.

He’d thought about slipping into her room in the dead of night, nuzzling her awake, trailing kisses—

“Dallas?”

He swung around at the hesitant lilt of Cordelia’s soft voice. She had come to his study shortly after they had returned home to get his catalogue. He had hoped she would browse through it in his office, but she’d just grabbed it and scurried out like a frightened rabbit. He hadn’t seen her since, had assumed she’d gone to bed—without him once again.

He crossed his arms over his bare chest and wished to God his feet weren’t bare. He felt naked and chose to clothe himself in anger. “What are you doing out here?”

“Austin told me to come talk to you.”

First Amelia. Now Austin. It seemed his whole family was intent on nudging the woman toward him. Unfortunately, he wanted her to come of her own accord.

Cautiously, she eased closer to the corral and ran her finger along the railing. “I see you out here often. Do you have trouble sleeping?”

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

How pretty your eyes are. How soft your skin looks. How sweet you smell. How much I want to hold you.

“My brand. I need to change it.”

“Why?”

Because I haven’t held a woman in years, not since Amelia.

“Because the symbol isn’t right anymore.”

“What happened to change it, to make it wrong?”

Destiny.

“When I first bought this land, I used a
D
for Dallas. When Amelia agreed to marry me, I added an
A.
I made it lean against the side of the
D
so the letters were joined. Only she and I aren’t joined. You and I are, so I need to change the symbol, but your name doesn’t lend itself well to leaning against the D. A
C
and
D
just look like two
D’s
back to back so I’m trying to figure out how to put the
C
and
D
together so they look like themselves and not other letters.”
And rambling like an idiot in the process.

She held his gaze in the moonlight. “Did you love her?”

“Who?”

She lowered her lashes. “Amelia. Did you love her?”

He brushed his thumb and forefinger over his mustache. He’d never stopped to ask himself that question. Maybe he should have. “I was fond of her. She added a grace to my life while she was here, but no, I didn’t love her. Not the way Houston did then; not as deeply as he does now.”

“They seem happy.”

“I reckon they are.”

She stepped on the bottom rung of the fence. Her toes curled around the wood. He thought about touching his bare foot to hers, rubbing his sole along her delicate ankle.

Pulling herself up, she leaned against the corral. Within the shadows of the night, he could see the curve of her breasts pressing against her wrapper. He ached to slip her wrapper off her shoulders, cup her breasts, and feel her satiny skin against his roughened palms. He dug his fingers into his arms to keep them from reaching for her when she looked so serene.

“I think back to back would work,” she said softly.

Back to back? The woman was incredibly innocent. Back to front might work, although he’d prefer front to front. He’d never known a woman as tall as she was. Pressed against her, he imagined he would find very little of himself not warmed by her flesh. Thigh to thigh. Hip to hip. Chest to breasts. His shoulders might come a little higher than hers, but he could live with that.

She glanced over at him. “Cameron calls me Dee. I prefer it to Cordelia, so you see, two D’s back to back might work.”

“Two D’s? Back to back?” He snapped his head back, gasping for breath. “My brand. You’re talking about my brand.”

“What did you think I was talking about?”

He gave her a jerky nod. “My brand. I thought you were talking about my brand.”

She angled her head as though she didn’t quite believe him and wanted to figure out exactly what he had been thinking. He shoved his sweating hands into his trouser pockets. “Why does he call you Dee?”

“When he was a baby, Cordelia was too hard for him, so he just started calling me Dee. I never liked Cordelia but we don’t get to choose our names … or our families.”

He imagined in the last week, she’d learned more about her family than she’d care to know. Houston had told him what he’d overheard in Dallas’s office, and it had taken every bit of restraint Dallas could muster not to pay the McQueens a visit. He’d cursed Houston long and hard for making him give his word he’d pretend he didn’t know what had transpired before Houston had ever told him what had.

“I heard Austin and Amelia call you Dee. I could call you that if you want.”

“I’d like that.”

“Fine. I’ll see about putting two D’s on our brand.”

She tilted her face toward the stars. “What happens to your men when they get married?”

Like the length of her body, her throat was long and slender. He stepped closer to the corral and rested his elbow on the top railing so he could see her more clearly. “They don’t get married.”

“Never?”

“Not a ranch hand. If a man wants a family, he’s gotta save up his pay, purchase some land, and start his own spread so he’s got a place for his family to live.”

“Doesn’t that seem sad to you?”

“Never thought much about it. That’s just the way it is. A cowboy knows that from the beginning.”

She seemed to contemplate his answer. He wished he knew what she was thinking, wished he knew what she would do if he put a foot on the railing, cupped her fragile face in his wide hands, and kissed her.

He had the right—

She diverted her attention away from the stars. “Austin is going to town in the morning. Can I go with him?”

He ignored the jab to his pride because she preferred to travel into town with his brother. He would have happily taken her if he’d known she wanted to go. “You’re not a prisoner here. You can do anything you want. You don’t have to ask my permission.”

“I can do
anything?”
she asked.

“You can’t move back home,” he quickly answered, certain her thoughts were about to head in that direction.

She jerked her chin up slightly, almost defiantly. “You claim to give me freedom, but then you limit the choices, which takes away the freedom.”

She stepped off the railing. “Thank you for giving me permission to leave with Austin tomorrow.”

She strolled away. He wanted to grab her braid, wrap it around his hand until he’d brought her face even with his … and kiss her until neither one of them had any choices.

Studying the words she’d written before she’d gone to sleep last night, Cordelia slowly chewed on the biscuit. She knew freedom was an illusion. She could come and go as she pleased as long as she didn’t go where she wanted—someplace where she could cast her own shadow.

Still, she intended to enjoy the day. Even Dallas’s apparent lack of interest in her topics wasn’t going to spoil her mood. She glanced up from her notes. “Why do you suppose the leaves change color in autumn?”

With his egg-laden fork halfway to his mouth, Dallas stilled. “Because they die.”

“I see.” She looked at Austin. “Are you of the same sentiment?”

Peering at her over the brim of his cup, steam rising from the coffee, humor in his eyes, he nodded.

She returned her attention to her list. She had been incredibly pleased with herself last night for walking to the corral to ask Dallas for permission to ride to town with Austin. Of course, Austin had shoved her out the door and locked it, forcing her to find the courage to face her husband, but still she had found it. eventually.

“What is your favorite color?”

“Brown.”

She lifted her gaze. “Brown? Of all the colors in the world, why do you like brown?”

Dallas couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. He favored brown because her eyes were brown. The one time he had seen them without fear or wariness clouding them, they had mesmerized him. “I just do.”

“Oh.”

She looked at her scrap of paper, and Dallas bit back a scathing expletive. He had threatened her with a discussion on husbandry if she didn’t talk, and she had brought a list of topics to the table this morning and kept running her finger over it, looking for things to discuss.

Wind. Rain. The shape of clouds. The entire time she prattled about things, he discovered that he wanted to talk about her. What she had feared as a little girl. Her dreams. If she was lonely.

He shoved his chair back, and she jerked her head up. He stood, walked to her end of the table, and set an envelope beside her plate.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Spending money.” For over an hour, he had contemplated how much to give her, fearing too little or too much might offend her. He had no idea how much money ladies needed and had settled on twenty dollars. “If it’s not enough, you can put your purchases on my account, and I’ll take care of it the next time I go to town.”

She trailed her fingers over the envelope, and he wondered what it would feel like to have her slender fingers skim over his chest.

She peered up at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re my wife. I’m supposed to see that you don’t do without.” He glared at Austin. “Take care of her, or I’ll hang your hide out to dry.”

He stalked from the room, wondering why he couldn’t have simply leaned down, kissed her on the cheek, and told her to enjoy the day.

Cordelia took great delight in riding with Austin. He possessed much more patience than his older brother. He had already taught her how to send Lemon Drop into a trot. She loved the feel of the wind brushing across her face, the movement of the golden mare beneath her, and the knowledge that she was in control of the beast.

If only she could control her husband as easily. If only he would set her free.

She slowed her horse to a walk. Beside her, Austin did the same.

“You did that real well,” he said, smiling broadly.

She felt the warmth fan her cheeks. “She’s a good horse.”

“That’s the only kind Houston raises.”

“Do you think we’ll go back and work on their house this Sunday?”

“I’m sure we will. Dallas ain’t one to leave a job half-done.”

“No, I don’t imagine he is at that.” She shifted her backside over the saddle. “Why did your parents name you and your brothers after towns in Texas?”

“According to Houston, our pa had a wandering streak in him and named us after the town he was living in at the time we were born. I don’t remember our pa, but Houston says Dallas is a lot like him, says that’s the reason Dallas purchased so much land. He could wander far and wide and still be at home.”

His answer gave her pause for thought. She wondered if Dallas had longed for roots while he was growing up as much as she’d longed to leave. She brushed a fleck of dirt off her riding skirt. “I was wondering …”

Austin tipped his hat off his brow. “Yes, ma’am?”

“My father sends someone into town every week for supplies. Wouldn’t it save you considerable time if you brought a wagon so you wouldn’t have to go into town every day for supplies?”

Austin’s face turned beet red as he tugged his hat down. “I ain’t goin’ into town for supplies. Dallas sends Pete in to get the supplies.”

“Then why do you go every day?”

He cleared his throat. “I just like to.”

“Dallas doesn’t mind?”

“Long as I get my work done, he don’t mind at all.”

She contemplated his answer. Her days were long, her nights even longer. She wondered if she could find something in town to help her pass the time.

Tightening her hold on the reins, Cordelia stared as Leighton came into view. Half a dozen wooden buildings checkered the wide dusty street. On the outskirts of town, it looked as though people had haphazardly thrown up tents.

Workers were hammering on the frame of a building. The scent of sawdust filled the air. She had never seen anything like it.

The day Dallas had announced that he was setting aside the land for a town, she had seen nothing but open prairie. She hadn’t returned since.

She had known the town had acquired a dressmaker and a general store. She hadn’t known about the saloon or the bank or the jail.

“What are they building?” she asked Austin as he led their horses down the center of town.

“A livery and a blacksmith shop.”

“It really is going to be a town,” she said in awe. “Boyd had said it would never happen. That Dallas was a fool.”

“Boyd’s the fool,” Austin said. “I’ve never seen Dallas fail at anything.”

Austin brought their horses to a stop in front of a false-fronted building that proclaimed OLIVER’S GENERAL STORE. He dismounted, tethered both horses, then reached up and helped Cordelia dismount.

A whole town to walk through. Well, not quite a whole town, but it would be someday, and her husband was responsible. An empire builder.

Perhaps he was more. A builder of dreams.