Authors: Leigh Greenwood
Pilar decided Cade got his cleverness from his grandfather. The man might look old and feeble, but he didn’t miss a trick.
“I’m not going to tell you what you should do,” Pilar said.
“But you can’t wait,” her grandmother said, “or there won’t be any cattle or hacienda for a dowry.”
“Sounds like they’re trying to bamboozle us,” Earl said to his grandson.
“Maybe,” Cade replied, “but I agree Pilar needs time to make her decision.”
“What about the time
you
need to decide?” Earl asked.
“I already know what I want.”
Pilar felt the heat rise again. Cade was looking at her in
a way that made her feel as if he were undressing her. That had happened before, but never with a man she wanted to marry. She could picture herself married to Cade, and that picture caused every nerve in her body to sing.
Now that the shock of the proposal had worn off, Pilar experienced a resurgence of the feelings she’d experienced from time to time during the last few days. Only now they came at her all at once. And they all said the same thing.
She wanted to marry Cade.
Not because he was going to run the squatters off her ranch. Not because he was capable of turning both ranches into a very successful enterprise. Not because he was strong and big and handsome. Not because he was kind and thoughtful and treated her with respect.
Because she really liked him.
What she didn’t understand, nor had she anticipated, was the physical attraction she felt for Cade. One minute she was feeling normal, and the next she felt as though she would explode from the force of feelings that were at once unfamiliar and frightening in their intensity. Her limbs started to feel weak, her muscles to quiver uncontrollably. Her stomach felt queasy.
Could this be the beginning of love, or was it simply lust?
Pilar didn’t know, but she did know she didn’t find the sensations enjoyable. If this was what love was all about, aristocrats were right to avoid affairs of the heart like a plague. Because that was exactly what it felt like.
“No man is going to be anxious to hang his brother-in-law,” Owen said.
“You were just supposed to make up to her,” Nate said. “Nobody ever said anything about marriage.”
“She and her grandmother want their land back,” Cade explained. “In exchange, I get half the ranch and a wife.”
“She’s not just a wife,” Broc said. “She’s beautiful, and I know what beautiful women can do.”
“Nobody talks me into doing anything I don’t want to do,” Cade said. “Just consider it a business proposition.”
“If you can look at that woman and consider her a business proposition, you’re not human,” Nate said.
Cade had been arguing with his friends since Rafe had told them of the conversation in the kitchen. All were dead set against this marriage.
“Cade probably jumped at the chance to get himself a beautiful wife on the strength of our work,” Owen said. “He knows he can’t get one any other way.”
“When I commanded the troop, I made decisions based on how best to achieve our objectives. I didn’t consider myself or any other man as an individual. I’m not commanding the troop anymore, so I’m deciding what’s best for me. I want to be the most successful man in this part of Texas, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get there. That’s why I invited you to help me get this first herd to market. If you can’t believe that I’m as firm as always in my desire to bring Laveau to justice, then maybe you’d better leave.”
His gaze went from man to man, not leaving until each one met his gaze and signaled his acquiescence. He didn’t want any reluctant followers. Retaking the diViere ranch wasn’t going to be easy. He was certain there would be injuries. Or worse. He didn’t want the men to think otherwise, but he meant to do it. This was a chance he could not turn down.
He’d hardly had time to get to know Pilar, but he liked her. She was spirited and energetic. And he could talk to
her. That didn’t sound like much, but he couldn’t imagine a worse fate than being married to a woman without a thought in her head beyond the color and design of her next dress.
But there was much more to Pilar than brains and energy. She was a fighter, a winner. She had been dealt rough blows, some bad enough to cause most women to cut and run, but she had stood her ground, fought back, and managed to make something fine and courageous out of tragedy. She had developed a sense of pride in doing whatever had to be done, a sense of self that enabled her to see herself as more than a pawn in the diViere family dynasty.
They wouldn’t have love—she didn’t believe in it and he didn’t trust it—but Pilar would be loyal. Once she gave her word, it would be forever.
Women didn’t last long in his family. His mother and grandmother had left Texas and their husbands, one because she couldn’t stand Texas, the other because she couldn’t stand Texas
or
her husband. Both had married intelligent, ambitious men, but both had married beneath themselves socially. His father had worked hard to give his wife the kind of life she expected, but his early death in a ranch accident had ended that hope. His grandfather had been pleased to see his daughter-in-law leave, had refused to let her take her six-year-old son with her. He’d said she wasn’t going to turn his only grandson into a runny-nosed weakling. Apparently, his mother hadn’t thought he was good enough even for that. She returned to Alabama, and he’d never heard from her again.
“Nobody’s leaving,” Holt told Cade. “None of us has enough money to make it out of Texas.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m not against this marriage,”
Owen said. “When a man starts thinking about a wife, he forgets about his friends.”
“But he’s even better at remembering his responsibilities,” Cade said. “And one of those responsibilities is to keep this ranch safe. I think we’re in for an attack soon.”
“Why?” Ivan asked.
“They can see we’re settling in. Every time a legitimate rancher returns, it means greater danger to them. They’ve got to make a big push to run us off.”
“When are you expecting it?” Nate asked.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to attack them first. Owen, I want you to come up with a plan for a defensive perimeter. I’ll talk to Pilar about the layout of her ranch, then Rafe and I will come up with a plan of attack. Nate, I want you to do some reconnaissance. Learn anything you can about how many men they have, where they sleep, what they do, their weapons and supplies.”
“And you want this in a few days?”
“Do your best. I’ve got an uneasy feeling we don’t have very long.” Cade knew that no one doubted his uneasy feelings. They’d proved accurate too many times.
“What about me?” Broc asked.
“I want you to ride into San Antonio and find me a half-dozen cowhands. I’ll pay thirty dollars a month, but they’ve got to be willing to work for nothing but their keep until I sell the herd. And they’ve got to be willing to fight. We’ll meet up with rustlers and herd cutters along the trail.”
“What if I can’t get that many?”
“Ask around for ex-soldiers. You ought to find plenty of them. In the meantime, we’ll drift the cattle north toward the river. I don’t want to make it easy for Cortina to make off with them.”
“What will you do about the diViere ranch?” Owen asked.
“I won’t know until we take it. The squatters might have sold off everything already and be looking for their next spot, or they may be planning to stay.”
“If so, they’ll be desperate to hold on,” Nate said.
“No more desperate than I am,” Cade said. “And I have one big advantage they don’t?”
“Your good looks?” Owen asked with a laugh.
“The six of you,” Cade said, “along with Gramps and Uncle Jessie. I’d back the nine of us in any fight. Now I have to talk to Pilar and convince her to trust me.”
“It might be easier to drive off the squatters,” Holt said.
Pilar fidgeted nervously. She ate her dinner without tasting it. She talked without remembering anything she said. She looked at people without seeing them. She heard her own thoughts as though they belonged to someone else. Cade had said he wanted to talk with her after dinner. She had to tell him the truth. She wasn’t sure he would stick to his agreement after that.
“You two had better have that talk,” Holt said. “You’ve been eyeing each other like two polecats all evening.”
Pilar pushed her chair back and got to her feet. “I have to clear the table, put the food away, wash the dishes—”
“We can do that,” Holt said.
“I won’t have no man washing dishes in my house when there’s a woman about who can do it.”
“We spent four years washing up after ourselves,” Holt said. “I don’t suppose it will kill us to do it one more time. Why don’t you two take a walk or sit under a tree?”
“What have they got to say that the rest of us can’t hear?” Earl asked.
“A lot, I should hope,” Holt replied.
Pilar allowed herself to be pushed toward the door. She did have a lot she didn’t want Earl to hear.
“Don’t pay any attention to my grandfather,” Cade said. “He doesn’t mean what he says.”
“He means exactly what he says,” Pilar contradicted.
She was through with lies, half-truths, pretense. She wanted this marriage, but they had to start off on the right foot. If not, she’d be better off with Manuel. At least they knew to expect nothing of each other.
“Where are we going?” she asked when Cade led her down the steps and into the ranch yard.
“I thought we could talk down by the creek. It’s nice to listen to the sound of running water.”
They’d had a thunderstorm during dinner. The stream-bed would dry up in a matter of hours, but there would be water running now.
Pilar felt the earth soft under her feet. There was no breeze, and the moisture in the air hung cool and heavy as a cloud around her. She liked it. There was a softness to the air against her skin. She could almost hear the earth swelling, the plants drinking in every drop of moisture, tiny animals seeking out droplets on branches or tiny puddles in the cup formed by a dried leaf. The earth and all its creatures were desperate to store up every drop of life-giving fluid.
Just as she was desperate to preserve the small chance she had for happiness.
“We have a courtyard at home filled with trees and flowers, and a pool with brightly colored fish. We nearly always sat outside after dinner.”
She hadn’t thought about her home recently—hadn’t wanted to think of it in the hands of strangers—but tonight, with the prospect of being able to return soon, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. For the first time in two years, she could allow herself to remember her home as it had been, to begin to think of all the things she would do when she returned.
“I liked it, especially in the evening. If the insects weren’t too bad.” The intrusion of reality often ruined things. She hoped it wouldn’t ruin her future.
“You’ll be able to enjoy it again very soon.”
She looked forward to that. But first she had to talk to Cade.
They reached the edge of the creek where it wound its way between rocky outcroppings. Before them stretched a vista of endless flat plains covered with thickets of live oak, mesquite, post oak, prickly pear cactus, catclaw, black chaparral, and other thorny bushes and small trees. Beneath this canopy and on the plains to the south grew the grasses that nourished the thousands of cattle on which so many people pinned their hopes.
Cade found a flat rock along the edge of the stream just out of reach of the gently flowing water. A cactus grew along one edge, its prickly arms reaching out for any unwary passerby. Without warning, Cade lifted Pilar up onto the rock.
“Oh!”
Surprise squeezed the sound from her. She could think of nothing but the disturbing physical sensations that centered around the places where Cade’s hands had touched her. His touch had turned his nearness into a tactile experience.
He stood a couple of paces away, breaking up a small
branch from a dead mesquite and tossing the pieces into the steam to watch them float away. He was so big, so powerful, so … she didn’t know how to say that his presence seemed to wrap around her. But rather than hem her in, it freed her. The night held many dangers, but she knew that Cade wouldn’t let them touch her.
“Everything seems so quiet and peaceful after a rain,” Cade said. “You could almost believe there was no danger out here.”
“There won’t be once you drive out the squatters.”
“There’s always danger, especially to a rich man with a beautiful wife.”
She had never thought of herself in that way.
“Cortina isn’t the only rustler out there. There are Texans branding any cattle they find as fast as they can. Once branded, the cows belong to them. Others are running off whole herds.”
“They won’t bother your herds,” she said.
“I’ll have to keep one eye on them and one on you.” He moved a little closer, looked down at her, and smiled. “I’d rather keep both eyes on you.”
She wanted to ask him why. All her life she’d been considered a valuable prize only for the wealth and connections she represented. Cade had shown interest in her when she was only a cook for his grandfather. She hoped that at least part of the reason he had agreed to marry her stemmed from the fact he liked her.
But she couldn’t let him make any kind of personal commitment until she’d told him the truth. “I’ve got something to tell you.” She looked at the toes of her shoes peeping out from under the hem of her gown. She didn’t dare look up at him or at the sky filled with dark clouds set into stark relief by a bright moon. Driven on by winds she couldn’t
see, the clouds boiled and churned, very much like her insides right now.
“I’m sure we both have a lot to say to each other. We haven’t exactly been friends in the past.”
“It’s not about that. Well, maybe it is, but you probably won’t think so.”
He turned and regarded her almost paternally. “Am I supposed to understand that?”
“No. I’m not very good at explaining things. Women in my family aren’t supposed to have opinions. If we do, we aren’t expected to express them.”
“I’ll listen.”
“I know. That’s one of the reasons it’s so hard to admit I’ve been misleading you.”
His expression didn’t change so much as harden. She thought she would have preferred a scowl.
“Are you saying you’re not going to marry me?”
“No. I do want to marry you. I didn’t at first, but I do now.”
He cocked his head, regarding her as though he didn’t quite believe what she’d said. “Are you saying you’ve fallen in love with me?”
She couldn’t tell whether he would have greeted that news with warmth or revulsion.
“No.”
“You’ve never liked or trusted me. What makes you think you want to marry me?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because of the way you treat me.”
“I haven’t done anything different from anybody else.”
“You have, from the moment you arrived. Your grandfather treated me like a slave.”
“Gramps would make a slave out of
me
if I let him.”
“That’s something else. You don’t let people make decisions for you. You make them for yourself and get people to go along with your decisions even when they don’t want to. Remember that first night, when you got your grandfather to let me sit at the table?”
“You cooked the food and paid for it. Who had a better right?”
“It had nothing to do with rights. And you talked to me, listened to me, helped when things got busy.”
“I like getting to know the people around me. As for helping, we all learned to do that during the war.”
“How many men do you think went home and reverted to their old ways?” she asked. “I’d say nearly all of them, but you didn’t.”
“And this is why you want to marry me?”
“Partly. You don’t need me to tell you you’re a nice-looking man. I’m sure women have been telling you that for years.”
“Not as many as I would have liked.”
She liked it when he joked with her. It made her feel closer to him, as if she was somebody he liked and enjoyed being with. He made her feel like a woman rather than an object; he had given her hope that her own girlish dreams might come true, that what her grandmother described as vulgar and ugly might be beautiful. But most important of all, he’d given her hope that her own feelings and desires might in some way determine her future.
“There’s also another reason why I want to marry you. I haven’t been engaged to you since I was six.”
“Is Manuel that bad?”
“No, but no one ever asked me if I wanted to marry
Manuel. I don’t think you would have been surprised if I’d refused to marry you.”
“You did refuse. You said we have to wait to see if we are compatible.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “That’s not a refusal. It’s really a yes.”
“It didn’t feel like it.”
“You might be glad of that when you hear what I have to say.”
“I can’t imagine what you could say that would be so terrible.”
“I could stay that I distrusted you from the start, that I only pretended to like you so you would tell me anything you knew about Laveau.”
“That’s not so bad.” He didn’t look as if he believed it. His face was settling into a mask again.
“I could say I let you kiss me for the same reason.” He definitely didn’t like that. His entire body stiffened.
“I could say I agreed to marry you to get our rancho back, that once my grandmother and I are back home, I plan to back out.”
“If that’s true, why should you tell me now?”
“Because my feelings for you have changed. I expected you to be like your grandfather, but you’re not. You’re willing to work hard for what you want, but you don’t take all the credit for your success. You acknowledge debts and respect other people’s talents even though you weren’t raised that way. I could admire what you’d become, what you were able to do, without caring for you, but I started to like you. It’s because I like you that I’ve got to get all the terrible things I’ve done out in the open so we can start over again.”
“There’s more?”
“Only one. In San Antonio, when I was supposed to be shopping, I went to ask Major Kramer about Laveau.”
“You should have told me. I would have gone with you.”
She didn’t avoid his gaze now. She looked him straight in the eye. “You’ve been holding something back from me. I don’t know what, but I’ve felt it from the first day.”
His face had definitely turned to marble. “And what do you think I’m holding back?”
“I don’t know, but the major said Texas was full of ex-Confederate soldiers who might try to kill Laveau, that he might not come home for years.”
“He didn’t tell you anything I couldn’t have told you if you’d asked.”
“But you didn’t tell me. You made me think you didn’t really care. He also said Laveau couldn’t trust anybody, especially the men who’d served with him.” Her gaze didn’t waver as she looked at him. “You served with him. I didn’t know if I could trust you. I was so unsure, I even considered leaving you in jail so you couldn’t hurt Laveau when he came home.”
Cade hadn’t liked much of what Pilar said. She was obviously smart enough to figure out he would still be angry at her brother, but that didn’t bother him so much as knowing she’d only pretended to like him to get information. Owen said Cade was too concerned with his duty to be a success with women. Now the one time he had put his interest in a woman before duty, she turned out to be using him.
“What made you change your mind?”
“A lot of things, but mostly because you risked trouble to help me. I couldn’t let you rot in jail even if I’d known you were planning to shoot Laveau the moment you saw him.”
Cade didn’t know whether to be angry that she’d lied to him, embarrassed to have misjudged her intelligence so badly, or just disappointed that she wasn’t attracted to him. He ended up being all three.
“Why didn’t you just say you wanted to get your ranch back? We could have worked out a deal. My friends need all the money they can get. What do you say to a trade? We get your ranch back in exchange for all the cattle we can round up and brand in a month.”
“You don’t understand. I told you all this because I do want to marry you. How would you feel if, years later, you learned all this? You’d think our marriage was nothing but a calculated plan.”
“Isn’t that what people of your class do, marry for wealth and position regardless of feelings, hopes, or desires?”
“That’s why I don’t want to marry Manuel.”
“So I’m looking like the better deal now.” He knew he was being unfair and hypocritical. He’d used Pilar, too. Only his goal was harder to defend. He intended to hang her brother.
He doubted that she really liked him very much, but she had been honest about her motives. His motives weren’t pure, either. He didn’t love her, though he admired her and had started to like her quite a lot. He enjoyed being with her. He did want her share of the diViere land and cows, but if he expected his marriage to be anything but a business deal of some kind, he’d better be honest with her. Or try to be.
“You haven’t committed a terrible crime,” he said. “At least, no worse than I did.”
“What did you do?” She looked miserable. Confession might be good for her soul, but it was obviously hell on the spirits.
“I pretended to be interested in you because I wanted to know when Laveau was coming home. I haven’t forgiven him for turning traitor. I wanted to beat him until I didn’t feel angry anymore.”
Then I meant to hang him.
He didn’t know what she would do if that happened; maybe he’d never have to face it. Laveau might never come home. He might even be dead. Cade hoped so. Then he wouldn’t have to be the one to bring the bastard to justice.
“I don’t intend to shoot him or encourage anyone else to shoot him. He knows the whereabouts of the man who betrayed my troop. A lot of men died as a result of that treachery.”