Authors: Texas Destiny
Lorraine Heath (16 page)
Amelia blushed. “But it no longer keeps time.” Dallas smiled warmly. “No, but it’ll remind me to stay off wild horses.”
Every room Amelia had set foot in was huge: her bedroom, Dallas’s office, the front parlor, and the entryway. The dining room, however, was the largest of all. A chandelier hung from the ceiling towering above. The walls were bare. The hearth empty. One large oak table with four chairs resided in the room with nothing else. The furniture in each room seemed oddly matched, as though Dallas’s taste in wood and fabric ran along the same lines as his taste in women’s hats. Amelia didn’t know if she could ever feel comfortable in any of the rooms. They seemed incredibly cold, and she sensed that fires burning within the hearths would not warm them.
The chairs scraped across the stone floor as everyone took their seats, Dallas at the head of the table to her left, Houston to her right, and Austin across from her. She was struck with the beauty of Austin’s eyes, a sapphire blue that any woman would have envied. His thick black lashes framed his eyes, drawing attention to them. She thought if women did come to the area as Dallas hoped, Austin would soon be married.
A door at the back of the room was kicked open, and the cook ambled in carrying a black cast-iron pot. His white hair stood out in all directions as though it had battled the wind and lost. A bushy white beard hid his mouth. Stains splattered his white apron. He brought the ladle out of the pot and spooned the stew into Amelia’s bowl. “Ain’t fancy, but it’s filling.”
She glanced up at him and smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for the loan of the clothes.”
“Ain’t no loan. They’re yours to keep. Got no use for ’em any more.”
“Didn’t know you was married, Cookie,” Austin said.
“Years ago, boy, years ago. Little gal from Mexico.” He placed stew in Dallas’s bowl. “She up and died on me, but I kept some of her clothes. Used to take ’em out at night and just smell ’em because they smelled like her. But it’s been too many years now. Can’t smell her no more. Might as well let Miss Carson here get some use out of ’em.”
“What was your wife’s name?” Austin asked as Cookie filled his bowl until the stew dripped over onto the table.
“Juanita. Beautiful, she was. With black hair, black eyes, and red, red lips.” He closed his eyes at a memory. “What those lips could do to a man.” He ambled over to Houston. “If I keep thinkin’ about her, I’m gonna have to hightail it up to Dusty Flats.”
“Dusty Flats?” Amelia said.
What was visible of Cookie’s cheeks turned as red as Juanita’s lips might have been. He dropped the pot on the table. “I’ll leave this with you. I ain’t no butler.” He went back through the door by which he’d entered, kicking it closed on his way out.
“Dusty Flats?” Amelia repeated. “Is that a town?”
Houston and Dallas both shifted in their chairs, their faces set. “It’s not a town that a lady would go to,” Dallas said.
“But it’s got women,” Austin said. “Or so I’ve heard.” He stuck out his lower lip. “Can’t get nobody to take me, though.”
Dallas cleared his throat. “It’s not proper conversation for the supper table.”
“How come?” Austin asked.
“Because we have a lady eating with us.”
Austin nodded as though what Dallas had said made sense to him, but Amelia could see confusion clearly reflected in the blue depths of his eyes.
“How do you like the house?” Dallas asked.
Amelia nearly choked on the stew. She took a sip of water, glancing down the table at Houston. He sat with his chair turned to the side. She had expected him to at least be comfortable with his disfigurement around his brothers.
“It’s big,” Amelia said, turning her attention back to Dallas. Those words were an understatement. The house was huge. Two stories of stone and—
“Adobe,” Dallas said. “The house is built of adobe so it’ll stay cooler in the summer. Gets hot here.”
“Yes, that’s what Houston told me. He said you can drop an egg on a rock and watch it cook.”
“He said that, did he?’ Dallas asked.
Amelia nodded, remembering so many things Houston had told her as they’d settled in each night, within each other’s arms.
“Did he tell you that I designed the house? Made it look like a castle with turrets and such, like they have in England. Thought it would be good for defense.”
She smiled. “No, he didn’t mention that. He just said that he couldn’t describe it. That I needed to see it. And now I’ve seen it. It’s very unusual. Where did you learn about castles?”
He leaned forward with none of the hesitation Amelia had grown to expect from Houston when she asked him a question. “There was a fella in my company during the war who had come over from England. He believed in the South’s cause more than some of my men did. We spent many a night discussing the differences between our countries. When the war ended, he returned to England.” He cleared his throat and eased back in his chair. “Apparently, he had placed some rather large bets on the outcome of the war. The South losing was not to his advantage.”
“He sounds like an interesting character. Houston never mentioned him.”
Dallas’s gaze shot to Houston, then back to Amelia. “Houston never met him. I didn’t meet Winslow until after Chickamauga.” He slapped his hands on the table. “But he was fascinating. Although I used much of what he told me to design this house, it still needs a lady’s touch. Give some thought as to what you’d like to see in the way of furniture and decorations. Maybe in the spring, we’ll go back to Fort Worth for a visit.”
“I’d like that. The town had so much energy.”
“I wanna go, too,” Austin said. “I bet the town has a lot of women. Houston, was there a lot of women in Fort Worth?”
“Wasn’t there long enough to notice.”
“If I’d just been riding through, I sure as hell would have noticed the women,” Austin said.
Houston slapped Austin’s arm. “Don’t use that language around Miss Carson.”
Austin stared at him. “What language you want me to use? Spanish?”
Houston grabbed Austin’s shirt and hauled him out of his chair. Austin protested loudly as Houston dragged him out of the room.
Dallas sighed deeply. “If you’d be so kind as to excuse me?”
Amelia swallowed her laughter and nearly choked. A woman’s touch was needed with more than the house. “Certainly.”
Harsh whispers filtered in from the hallway along with the sound of a possible slap on the arm or shoulder, which resulted in a young man’s fervent objection. The brothers stayed in the hallway outside the dining room longer than they had stayed in the hallway outside of Dallas’s office. When they finally returned, they had all set their jaws into uncompromising lines. They took their seats.
She wanted to hug Austin; his face was that of a boy trying desperately to become a man.
They ate in silence, Houston and Dallas concentrating on the meal. Amelia could see thoughts flickering across Austin’s face as though he was trying to decide what he could say without being hauled out of the room. Suddenly, his face lit up like the candles on a Christmas tree.
“Dallas is gonna buy some of that new fencing.”
Houston looked up at his older brother. “That barbed wire?”
“Yep,” Dallas acknowledged.
With that, the conversation ended, and the meal continued in silence.
A
melia drew the remnants of a blanket over her shoulders. Dallas had torn the woolen blanket in half, the easiest way he knew to give her something that resembled a shawl.
The sun was easing over the horizon, painting the sky in lavender, the land in shadows. Beside her, Dallas matched his pace to hers, leaning on a cane, his limp slight. She thought that without the limp, he would be able to cover twice as much ground as she.
He stopped walking and pointed toward the setting sun. “See where the sun is going down? That’s where my land ends.”
He met her gaze. She didn’t know if she’d ever seen a more handsome man, and she thought her heart should be tripping over itself with his attentions as he took her hand.
“When you wake in the morning, look out your window. Where the sun comes up is where my land begins.” He brought her hand to his warm lips, his mustache tickling her flesh as he steadily held her gaze. “You’re all that I imagined,” he said quietly.
Her heart did trip over itself then, pounding fast and furious as though she were running, as though she wanted to run. She could think of nothing clever to say. Her tongue grew thick and useless. “I imagined you with blue eyes,” she said, cringing with the inane comment as soon as the words left her mouth.
He raised a dark brow. “Blue eyes?”
She nodded. “Houston told me they were brown. And that you had a mustache. And that you cast a tall shadow.” She glanced at the ground where his shadow stretched out behind her. Smiling self-consciously at her babbling, she looked up. “And he was right.”
“I can’t imagine Houston doing as much talking as it sounds like he did bringing you here.”
“Only because I asked questions. He doesn’t volunteer the information, but if you ask, he’ll answer. Besides, it was a long journey.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come after you.” He released her hand and leaned on the cane. “It was stupid of me to try and break a horse the day before I was to leave.”
“Especially a black horse with a wavy tail and mane.”
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, his brow furrowing deeply.
“Houston explained that a horse’s coloring often tells him about its temperament. A black horse with a wavy tail and mane is usually mean-spirited.”
“He said that, did he?”
“Yes. I don’t remember what all the other colors mean, but he knows. You should ask him.” She heard a horse whinny and glanced over her shoulder to see Houston in the corral, gathering the mustangs. “Is he leaving?”
“I imagine.”
“I need to say good-bye.”
“Why don’t you run ahead and I’ll catch up?” Dallas suggested.
“Thank you.” The dust rose up around her as she ran to the corral. Houston was leaving, and she might not see him before she was married. She couldn’t bear the thought. She skidded to a stop near the corral as Houston tied the last of his horses together.
He climbed over the railing and walked toward her, removing his hat to hit the dust off his trousers. She wanted to comb the hair off his brow.
“Enjoy your evening stroll?” he asked as he stopped before her.
“Yes. It was nice. Dallas is nice.”
“Nice?” He smiled. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that you think he’s nice.”
“The ranch is huge.”
“Yep, and you ain’t even seen all of it. A man could travel for days without leaving Dallas’s land.”
“That’s what we did, isn’t it?” she asked. “Traveled for days on his land?”
“Three days.”
“You could have signaled him sooner.”
“Could have. Should have, but then I did a lot of things while traveling with you that I shouldn’t have done.”
She was grateful for every one of them. The memories would hold her for a lifetime, even if the man standing before her didn’t. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance that some creature might haul the house away if we leave it unattended?”
He laughed, deeply, richly, and the warmth returned to Amelia’s heart, a warmth that had disappeared when she’d moved from his side that morning.
“No, I don’t imagine any critter is gonna haul the house away.”
“It’s … it’s …”
“I told you that you needed to see it.” “Why do you think—”
“A castle for his queen,” he said, his smile easing away. He touched a finger to her cheek. “You’re his queen.”
“And if I don’t want to be a queen? If I just want to be a wife?”
“He’ll let you do that as well. One thing about Dallas, he’s loyal to a fault. If you’re by his side, he’ll give you everything.”
“Why didn’t you tell him you don’t think the barbed wire is a good idea?”
He narrowed his gaze. “What makes you think I don’t think the barbed wire is a good idea?”
“I traveled with you for well over a month, shared your food, shared your bed—”
“Don’t you dare tell Dallas that!” he hissed. “He’d tan my hide and hang it out to dry. You didn’t share my bed, you just slept beside me.”
“Is that all you think I did?” she asked.
“That is all you did.”
“I came to care for you.”
“You’ll come to care for Dallas even more. You just haven’t had much time with him.”
“I’m going to miss listening to you snore at night.”
“Amelia—”
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m not that far away. If you need something, you can send Austin to fetch me.”
“And you’ll come?”
“I’ll come.”
She heard approaching footsteps and turned. Dallas and Austin walked toward her, Austin with a loose-jointed walk as though he hadn’t a care in the world, Dallas stiffly as though he carried the burden of the world upon his shoulders.
The brothers stopped before her, and she felt a tension rise within Houston.
“I’ll send word when the preacher gets back,” Dallas said.
“I’ll be waitin’ for it,” was all Houston said, and Amelia realized she wouldn’t see him again until the day she married his brother. A keen sense of loss ricocheted through her.
“Austin and I will sleep in the bunkhouse until the preacher arrives,” Dallas said.
“The bunkhouse!” Austin exclaimed, horror laced through his voice. “Why do we have to sleep in the bunkhouse?”
“Because it wouldn’t be proper for an unmarried woman to sleep in a house alone with two men,” Dallas explained, his voice strained.
“Why not? Houston slept with her—”
Houston grabbed Austin by the shirt and hauled him out of hearing range. Amelia thought she had heard material rip this time. The poor boy was going to need a sturdier shirt.
“You’ll have to excuse Austin,” Dallas said, drawing her attention away from the two men engaged in a heated discussion. “He hasn’t had any women in his life and his education in certain matters is lacking.”
“Houston said you’re hoping more women will move out here once we’re married.”
He slipped his arm around hers and began walking toward the house. “I am hoping that this part of Texas will become more developed over time. My father told me once that some men are content to walk where others have gone.” He turned and faced her. “I’m not one of those men. My aspirations and dreams are grander.” He flushed, something she didn’t think this man did often. “I know I sound like I’m full of myself, but we have an opportunity here to build an empire whose foundation is made up of dreams, hard work, and determination. I want you to share it with me. I want our children to inherit it.”
He leaned down and kissed her on the brow as a brother might a favored sister. “I’m glad you’re here. Sleep well.”
He limped off the porch, leaving her to watch the fading sunset alone.
* * *
“Dallas? Dallas?” Austin whispered harshly.
Staring hard at the wooden beams running the length of the bunkhouse ceiling, his mind on weighty matters, Dallas sighed heavily. “What?”
“I don’t recollect ever hearin’ Houston laugh before. I didn’t realize it until I heard him laugh this evening. You ever hear Houston laugh before?” Austin asked.
Dallas swallowed hard, fighting to push back the guilt. “He laughed a lot when we were boys … before the war.”
“I’m thinkin’ that you’re right. Bringing women out here is gonna be a good thing. They sure make everything look prettier.”
“Yeah, they do. Now, get yourself to sleep. We got business to tend to tomorrow. Can’t stop working just because we’ve got a woman in the house.”
“If you decide you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”
“I’m not giving her up. Signed a contract saying I’d make her my wife if she traveled out here. A contract is like giving your word. I’ve never broken my word.”
He slammed his eyes closed, knowing he’d find no sleep tonight. No matter what the cost, no matter who paid it … he’d never broken his word.
Sleep had been as elusive as the shadows hovering in the room, changing with the flickering flame from the lantern. Each time sleep drew near and Amelia grabbed it, she’d find herself searching for the feel of Houston’s arms, the sound of his breathing, and the scent of horses and leather that was part of him. She’d awaken with a jolt, alone. She so hated being alone.
Sometime during the night, she’d slipped out of bed, draped a blanket over her shoulders, moved to the window, and welcomed the company of the stars. They had served as her canopy for so many nights, brought with them vivid memories of a man she didn’t understand. She thought she could ask Houston questions through eternity, but his carefully guarded answers would forever keep her from understanding him fully.
She was certain that she meant more to him than he let on, thought it possible that he may have fallen in love with her, knew she’d come to love him. She wondered why he didn’t act on his feelings. She wasn’t married to his brother. Surely Dallas would understand if she had a change of heart. She didn’t fear Dallas, but she sensed that Houston was wary of him, as though he thought his brother might strike out at him if he spoke the wrong words or took the wrong action. She wondered how much Dallas resembled his father. Houston had not been fond of his father. She wondered if he saw his father when he looked at Dallas.
In the predawn darkness, she sighed and listened to the steady clack of the windmill Dallas had built. Soon the sun would touch the earth, throwing its glow over Dallas’s land. She hoped the sight would bring joy to her heart, would replace this mourning of a loss she couldn’t identify or explain.
She heard a thump in the hallway. Her first thought was that Houston had sneaked in to see her, but she didn’t think that would be his way. He’d said once that he always took the easy way. As much as it pained her, she had to acknowledge that for him, leaving her was easier than claiming her.
She heard the bump again. She rose from her chair and tiptoed across the room to the hearth, where the embers from the dying fire glowed red. She picked up the smallest log in the stack beside the hearth and crept to the door.
She opened the door slightly and peered out. She saw a shadow moving out of one of the far rooms. She couldn’t remember if that room was another bedroom. The person was carrying something. She stepped into the hallway and held the log like a club, hoping she had the strength to carry out her threat if the thief tried to bolt. “Stop right there!”
The culprit turned, stumbled back, hit the door, and fell into the room from which he’d just come. Amelia rushed down the hallway, her heart thudding madly. She skidded to a stop and stood over the prone figure, trying to decide if she should hit him now or cry for help.
“Miss Carson! It’s me! Austin.”
She scrutinized the darkness, barely able to discern his features. She could hear his heavy breathing. She had no doubt frightened him as much as he’d frightened her. She lowered her raised arms. They quivered as they relaxed against her side. “What are you doing here?”
He scrambled to his feet. “Come to get my violin. Dallas didn’t give me no time to get my belongings. You scared me to death.”
She laughed with a crazy sort of relief. “You scared me, too.”
“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to.” He tilted his head. “Miss Carson, you want to come watch the sunrise with me?”
“Will Dallas be there?”
“No, ma’am. He done headed out with some of the men to check the south range. I’m supposed to watch out for you today.”
“Let me get dressed.”
She hurried into her room. She considered putting on her own clothes. She had washed them last night, but she had enjoyed the freedom she’d felt wearing the loose skirt and blouse. She slipped into the clothes, wrapped the makeshift shawl around her shoulders, and walked back into the hallway. Austin was plucking a string on his violin.
He shoved himself away from the wall. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the stairs and through the house to the back porch.
He released her hand and dropped to the top step. She settled in beside him, leaning against the beam. “Dallas said that where the sun comes up is where his land begins.”
“Yes, ma’am. He has a hell—excuse me, heck—of a lot of land.” He leaned toward her. “Can I say heck?”
She smiled. He had lived in a world dominated by men. She didn’t expect him to change his habits overnight, wasn’t even certain if he should. “You can say whatever you want. I don’t mind.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I’m used to seeing Dallas angry, but I ain’t never seen Houston angry. I don’t want to say nothing that’s gonna make Houston angry, so I gotta practice talking to a lady like she’s supposed to be talked to. And I sure as hell, excuse me, heck, ain’t gonna mention that you slept together. I thought he was gonna tear me in two.”
Amelia scooted toward him slightly, clasped her hands together tightly, and rested her elbows on her thighs. “Dallas and Houston don’t seem to talk to each other much.”
“No, ma’am. They surely don’t. They never have as long as I can remember.”
“But they talk to you?”
“Yes, ma’am. It’s kinda funny. When it’s just me and Dallas, he talks to me like I imagine a father would talk to a son, explaining things real patient-like. When it’s just me and Houston, he talks to me like I figure brothers would talk to each other, but I never see him and Dallas talking that way. When it’s the three of us, it’s just best to keep quiet.”