Lorraine Heath (21 page)

“D
uring the ceremony tomorrow, do you think I should stress that a husband should not beat his wife?”

Amelia scrutinized the minister who had just spoken, a man who leisurely hitched up his hip and sat on the porch railing, his long black coat opening to reveal his pearl-handled revolver. “I hardly think that will be necessary,” she assured him.

Reverend Preston Tucker nodded slowly. “After speaking with Dallas earlier, I didn’t think so, but a wedding ceremony is more for the woman than the man. Most men I know would consider the deed done with little more than a ‘Do you?’ followed by ‘I do’ and a handshake.”

“Incredibly romantic.”

“Romance is seldom involved out here. I’ve performed several ceremonies involving mail-order brides. Some women feel more comfortable if I stress how they should be treated.”

“I feel fairly confident that Dallas will treat me just fine.”

He studied her as one might a bug beneath a rock, his blue eyes penetrating. Dressed all in black—black shirt, black trousers, long black coat—he appeared relaxed, and yet he left the distinct impression that he was ever alert, ever watchful. He reminded her more of a gunfighter than a preacher.

His full lips lifted into a smile that she thought could tempt any woman into sinning.

“Something’s bothering you,” he stated simply.

“I was just wondering if you planned to wear the gun during the ceremony.”

He slowly stroked the revolver strapped to his thigh. “No, I just wear it when I’m traveling. It bothers you, though. Perhaps I bother you.”

“I just never expected to see a man of God wearing a gun.”

“Life is different out here, Miss Carson. It’s still considered a wilderness. Renegades and outlaws run rampant. Frontier justice often becomes more of an injustice. I have no intention of meeting my Maker before I’m ready.”

“Would you kill a man?” she asked.

He averted his gaze and squinted into the distance. “Somebody’s coming.”

Amelia followed the direction of his gaze, and her heart leapt with joy. “It’s Dallas’s brother.”

She rushed off the porch and crossed the yard, keeping her distance as Houston brought Sorrel to a halt. He was leading the palomino beside him.

“You’ve tamed her,” she said, a hint of question in her voice.

“Yep.”

Cautiously, she approached and rubbed the horse’s neck. “She’s so beautiful. She’ll give you a fine herd of horses to sell.”

“I doubt that.” He leaned down and extended the reins toward her. “She’s yours.”

She stared at the leather strips threaded through his long tanned fingers. She took a step back. “I can’t accept her as a gift.”

“She’s your wedding gift. The saddle, too. It’s not a woman’s riding saddle, but it was the best I could find on such short notice.”

She touched her fingers to the detailed etching worked into the fine leather. The saddle was as beautiful as the horse, not something he’d simply run across.

“I’ve grown used to riding in men’s saddles,” she said.

“Figured you had, what with all the riding you do with Austin.”

She looked up. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“I know. Dallas sent word to me this morning.”

“That’s Reverend Tucker on the porch.”

He glanced toward the porch and touched a finger to the brim of his hat in acknowledgment. “He looks like a gunfighter.”

Amelia laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

“Did I ever tell you that I like the way you laugh?” he asked, his voice low.

She placed her hand over his, slowly threading her fingers through the reins, relishing the roughness of his palm against hers. “Take me for a ride.”

He straightened. “I’d best not.”

“Please. I think you should be with me the first time I ride Palomino so she’ll understand that she’s changing owners.”

He smiled as though secretly pleased with himself, and she wished she could have a lifetime of his smiles.

“I didn’t name her Palomino.”

“Golden?”

His smile increased. “Nope.”

“Mustang?”

He shook his head. “I named her after the woman who’d be riding her.”

She laughed. “Amelia?”

His smile slipped away. “Valiant.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Please take me for a ride.”

Whatever good sense he might have possessed must have left him because he dismounted and walked around to her. “We won’t go far,” he said.

She nodded. “That’s fine.”

“We won’t stay gone for long.”

“That’s fine.”

He cupped his hands together and bent down. She put her foot within his palms, and he hoisted her up. She settled into the saddle as Valiant sidestepped, snorted, and shook her head.

Houston grabbed the reins and spoke in a low voice near the mare’s ear before moving aside and mounting Sorrel. He glanced at Amelia. “Let’s test her speed and endurance, but I’ll set the pace.”

She could only nod as she began to hoard away all the images that would make up the memories of their last ride.

* * *

Amelia removed her socks and shoes and dipped her feet into the cold water of the springs. She hadn’t expected their short trip to take them this far, but it seemed appropriate to finally have the chance to say good-bye properly and to say it here.

Houston was stretched out beside her, raised on an elbow, watching her as though he’d never again have the opportunity to look at her. And perhaps he wouldn’t. At least not in the same way.

Tomorrow, she would become his sister by marriage. Leaning forward, she slipped her fingers into the water until they were wet enough, then she lifted them out and flicked them toward Houston. He turned his head aside as the water sprayed over him. Then he met her gaze.

“You didn’t ask Dallas why he won’t look at me, did you?”

“No.” She tilted her nose slightly, daring him to ask.

“Why?”

“Because you’ve told me time and again that you take the easy way. Asking Dallas would have been the easy way for you. I deserve better than that.”

He smiled sadly. “And I’d never give you better than that, Amelia.”

“And you think he will?” “I know he will.”

She turned away, wondering why she was trying to push herself into the life of a man who obviously didn’t want her. She couldn’t explain why she loved him, why she wanted to be part of his life, his dreams.

“Accepting Dallas’s offer of marriage seemed so right before I met you. Now, I no longer know what is right. I wanted to be a wife. I wanted to escape the memories from the war. I never expected to find love.”

He gently grazed his knuckles over her cheek. “You should have expected to find love. There’s so much about you to love.”

She had never wanted anything as desperately in her life as she wanted to hear him voice aloud his love for her. Just three words. Three simple words. Yet, she knew he would never say them. To do so would force them to acknowledge a dream they could never possess, would condemn them to years of wondering what might have been.

She placed her hand over his and rubbed her cheek against his rough palm. “Will Dallas love me?”

She watched his throat work as he swallowed. He shifted his gaze to the waterfalls, his voice raspy when at last he spoke. “Yeah, he will.”

She could hear the rush of the water as it spilled over the rocks, her moments with Houston flowing by as quickly. Never again would she be alone with him, to look upon him with a longing that should have never entered her heart. She had so much that she wanted to say to him, but she knew the words would only make their leaving this peaceful sanctuary more difficult, so she locked them away, hoping a day would come when she would forget that she’d ever thought them.

“I imagine this place is beautiful in the spring,” she said softly.

“Yep. It’s a lot greener then, and the flowers come up.”

“Will Dallas bring me here to see it?”

“I don’t know if he knows about it.” He glanced at her. “I’ll give him directions.”

“How did you manage to find it?”

He shrugged. “Just happened upon it one day.”

“Sometimes, life gives us the most unexpected gifts, doesn’t it?”

Houston wanted to tell her that she had been an unexpected gift, along with her laughter, her smiles, and her courage. He didn’t think he’d ever receive anything finer than the days he’d spent with her as they’d traveled from Fort Worth. “Yeah, it does,” he said quietly.

Inside Dallas’s barn, Houston removed the saddle from Valiant’s back and swung it over the slats of the stall. She was a good horse. She had a good temperament. She’d serve Amelia well.

He smelled Amelia’s sweet scent before he heard her gentle footsteps. He’d put off saying good-bye as long as he could. Words failed him as they always did. He wanted to thank her for the sunshine she’d brought into his life, for the memories that would linger.

And he wished to God that he’d made different choices in his life.

“Take a dare or tell me the truth,” she said softly behind him.

He swallowed hard, knowing he was damned either way. He turned slowly, memorizing the slant of her brow, the tip of her nose, the blush in her cheeks. “Dare,” he rasped.

“Kiss me as though you loved me.”

She stood valiantly … his heart-in-her-eyes woman. He had but to tell her the truth to put out the fire of love, to replace it with the cold ashes of disappointment. It should have been easy, but dear God, he didn’t want her to hate him, to know him for the man he really was.

So he held his silence and played the game with her rules. He framed her face between his large hands, tilted her face slightly, lowered his mouth to hers, and plunged into hell.

She whimpered softly and leaned into him, her arms moving up to snake around his neck. He tried to be gentle, wanted to be tender, but all he could think about was her warm mouth greedily mating with his. His arms moved down until his hands were roaming over her slender back, pressing her closer to him, until her soft curves met the hard planes of his body.

God, he wanted her. He wanted her here in the hay beside the horses. He wanted her beneath the stars on a warm, sultry night, beneath a pile of blankets when the snow was falling. He wanted her sleepy smile in the morning, her contented smile at midnight.

He wanted to see her flesh when she took off her clothes and ran the damp cloth over her body.

He wanted to see everything that existed behind the shadows.

He wanted to make her laugh. He never wanted to make her cry. He never wanted to hurt her.

He drew back, his breathing labored, his heart pounding so hard he thought surely she could feel it. But her breathing matched his and her eyes, her eyes of clover green, were searching his face, searching for what he could never let her see.

“I’ll take a dare,” she whispered hoarsely.

He touched his trembling thumb to her quivering Up. “Find your happiness with Dallas.”

He edged past her, and without looking back, walked out of the barn. He hadn’t given her the farewell she deserved, but then nothing he gave her would ever be what she deserved.

Amelia sat on the back porch and stared at the moon, incredibly large, shimmering in the night sky. Every so often, clouds slowly rolled before it with a touch that she imagined was as light as Houston’s.

She wanted his love, but more she wanted his trust. She had seen the ugliest part of him and accepted it. Why couldn’t he accept it?

“Amelia?”

She glanced up at the shadowed figure. The clouds waltzed past the moon, illuminating Dallas, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ambled to the porch and leaned against the beam. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “Figured I’d better not risk a horse ride tonight.”

Pressing on her skirt, she slipped her hands between her knees. “I couldn’t sleep, either.”