Texas Homecoming (23 page)

“Sounds better than steers to me,” Broc said with a grin.

“Me, too,” Cade said, “but she’s not too happy with me right now. You do remember that we forced her to accept that her brother is a murdering traitor.”

“It’s the truth,” Nate said.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he’s her brother. It’ll be better to give her some time.”

“And give you time to break your neck trying to personally subdue every steer on the place,” Holt said.

Bigelow and one of the other men were good cowhands, so Cade used them to help him drive the cows out of the brush. They ended every day covered in scratches and deep gouges Holt had to treat.

“I can’t ask anybody to do what I’m not willing to do myself.”

Cade knew he was working himself to exhaustion out of guilt for having lied to Pilar. Her defeated look made him
feel even more ashamed. He had nothing to do with Laveau’s being a traitor, but he felt responsible for Pilar’s misery. After all, he was the one who’d forced the knowledge on her, the one who’d broken her trust.

Cade went in search of Pilar as soon as he unsaddled his horse. She had just started dinner. She had insisted that she continue to cook. She looked dismayed to see him back so early. She was obviously feeling guilty for what Laveau had done. She could talk to the men only with great difficulty.

“Supper won’t be ready for more than an hour,” she said.

“I know.”

She turned away. “Then you’d better go away and let me cook.”

“I can help.”

“I don’t need help.”

“What you mean is you don’t want my help.” Cade tried to restrain himself, but it didn’t work. It was time to face the issue squarely.

“Look, Cade, we’ve been over this before.”

“Not really. You won’t talk to me.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes. I didn’t do anything.”

“But you want to.”

“No, I don’t
want
to, but I must. For the sake of the men who died.”

“They’re dead, Cade. You can’t help them now.”

“So I should let Laveau go unpunished, leave him free to betray other people?”

Pilar turned away from the pot she was stirring. “I’ve accepted that Laveau betrayed your troop. Surely you don’t expect me to help you find him.”

“I had hoped you would.”

“He’s my brother, Cade. I can’t do that.”

“Why not? He’s a traitor.”

“He hasn’t betrayed me.”

“He hasn’t helped you, either.”

“He can’t, with you and your friends here.”

“Believe me, he’d be more than happy to kill us, too. Then there wouldn’t be anyone who knows of his treachery.”

“A whole lot of Union soldiers know.”

“They don’t care. They probably didn’t even know his name.”

“Major Kramer knew.”

“All I’m asking you to do is let me know if he writes again, if he’s intending to come back.”

She turned away from him. “I can’t do that. I won’t write back to him, but I won’t help you catch him, either.”

“I thought you were more honorable than that.”

“Honor!” The word exploded from her, and she whipped around to face him, brandishing a large wooden spoon as a weapon. “How can you speak to me of honor when you’ve lied to me from the day you got here?”

“You broke your promise to marry me.”

“You shouldn’t care about that. You don’t love me, and I don’t love you. We’ll pay you for your work. You won’t go away empty-handed.”

“I’m not talking about that.”

“You can’t expect me to marry a man who would use me to help him hang my brother. What kind of woman do you think I am?”

He could hardly have less chance of marrying Pilar than he had now, but it was time to be completely honest. “I can only excuse myself because I didn’t believe you could ever love me. You’ve always hated me.”

“No, I didn’t. I liked you.”

“Even after I kidnapped you?”

“
Because
you kidnapped me.” She smiled. “That was the most exciting day of my life. You were very handsome and so very daring. And you made everybody so mad.”

“Including my grandfather.”

“Did you like me then, even a little?”

“You were beyond my reach. Liking you would have been a sacrilege.”

“Yet you kidnapped me.”

Now it was his turn to grin. “That was my way to thumb my nose at people who thought I was white trash.”

He forced himself to tell the truth. “I’m tired of people looking down on me. I figured if I married a real lady, I wouldn’t be a social outcast anymore.”

“Whatever put such a preposterous notion in your head?”

“You’ve never been at the bottom of the hill looking up. You don’t know what it’s like to know the people at the top have pulled the steps up behind them so you can’t follow.”

“My grandmother is Spanish, not Mexican. My father and grandfather were French. They fought on the losing side in two Texas wars. I’m as much of an outcast as you.”

She thought their situations were similar. She didn’t understand. “That’s only one of my reasons for wanting to marry you.”

“One? What were the others?”

She wouldn’t believe him, not after what he’d already said, but he had to tell her. He didn’t want to look back years from now and think things might have been different if he’d only told her everything.

“I really like you. It has nothing to do with your looks,
your family, or your ranch. I just like
you.
You’re not afraid to speak your mind.” He chuckled. “My grandfather has certainly learned that. That shows courage, and I admire courage. You didn’t give up when the squatters drove you out. You weren’t too proud to do what you had to do to survive.”

“You sound like you’re recruiting a soldier, not choosing a wife.”

Did she want him to talk about the clarity of her eyes, the sheen of her hair, her perfect teeth? Owen said women liked that, but he thought it sounded like he was choosing a broodmare rather than a wife.

“Then maybe you should marry Owen. He’ll give you all the flowery compliments you could want.”

“I don’t like Owen, not the way I would if I wanted to marry him.”

“Do you like me that way?”

She kept stirring that pot of beans. They ought to have been reduced to mush by now. “It doesn’t matter what I feel. You don’t like me that way.”

“But I do. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“If you mean that all this talk about my good qualities was supposed to convince me you were in love with me, why didn’t you say so?” she said.

“I didn’t think people in your class believed in love.”

“They don’t, but I thought you did.”

“Not if it’s what my mother and grandmother felt for their husbands. Your class is probably very wise to avoid it,” he said.

“Will you stop saying
your class?
It makes me feel like I’m different from regular people.”

“You are.”

“No, I’m not. I laugh and cry just like anyone else. I get
hungry, sleepy, suffer pain and heartache just like anyone else. I get lonely, frightened, bewildered—”

He closed the space between them so swiftly he didn’t even remember the movement. He turned her around so quickly some of the liquid from the spoon spattered across his shirt.

“You don’t have to be lonely or frightened. I won’t ever leave you. I wouldn’t let anything hurt you.”

She tried to turn away. “You can’t prevent things like that.”

He turned her back around, gripped her shoulders hard. “Yes, I can. I can do anything as long as it’s for you. I’ll drive every squatter out of the county, out of the state if I have to. I’ll build a wall around the hacienda so high no one will ever climb over it. I won’t let you out of my sight. I’ll—”

She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “The people we love the most are always the ones who hurt us the most.”

“I won’t hurt you. I won’t love you. I won’t let you love me. I’ll—”

“You don’t understand, do you?”

“What don’t I understand? Tell me. I’m not stupid. I’ll figure it out.”

“I already love you.”

He vaguely remembered some story from the Bible about someone being turned into a pillar of salt. That was how he felt now. Petrified. Immobile. “But you’re not supposed to.”

“I know. Grandmother is constantly telling me I don’t act like a proper young lady.”

“Forget your grandmother. Do you really love me?”

“I can’t forget my grandmother for the very reason I do
love you. I also love my brother. What you want to do to Laveau would drive a wedge between us forever.”

“Forget Laveau. Forget everybody. Just think about us. I don’t know if I love you—I’m not sure I’m capable of love—but I do know I feel like I’ll bust if I don’t have you.” He pulled her closer. “I can hardly sleep for wanting you. When I do sleep, I dream of holding you, kissing you, making love to you.”

“Cade, stop. We shouldn’t—”

“I’ve never met a woman I really wanted except you. You’re becoming an obsession. I even think about you when we’re branding. Holt says I’ll get myself killed one day.”

“You’ve got to be careful.”

“Then say you’ll marry me. I’ll go crazy if you don’t.”

He’d never let himself go before, never admitted his feelings or how strong they were. Now that he had, he felt carried away by them. No promise seemed unreasonable, no sacrifice too extreme if only Pilar would promise to marry him.

“Cade, please—”

He kissed her. He couldn’t hold off any longer. The pressure had been building until it was nearly unbearable. Seeing her every morning and evening, having her within reach and not being able to touch her was driving him wild. The longer he went without being close to her, being able to touch her, hold her, kiss her, the greater his need to do just that.

His kisses were desperate, nothing like the controlled person he wanted to be. And the more she resisted him, the more desperate he became. She said she loved him. She
had
to marry him. If he could just keep kissing her until—

Without warning, her resistance collapsed. She returned his kisses with a fervor that caused his temperature to spike upward faster than dandelion seeds in a stiff wind. He loved Pilar! She loved him! The last vestige of control, the last ounce of restraint, fell from him like an old skin, and he emerged new into a world that offered new hope.

He wanted to immerse himself in an orgy of unrestrained feeling. He wanted to kiss Pilar until her lips felt bruised, hold her until their bodies melded, make love to her until they were drained of all energy. It didn’t matter that they were in the kitchen. It didn’t matter that his friends were just outside. He wanted to shout, to tell the world. He wanted to—

He didn’t hear the knock or the soft voice until Pilar pushed hard against him. He turned to find a very uncomfortable looking Holt standing in the kitchen doorway.

“I don’t like to interrupt,” he said, “but there’s a man here who says his name is Manuel. He says he’s come to marry Pilar.”

Chapter Twenty-three

“You cannot marry that man,” her grandmother said. “I will not allow it.”

Pilar and her grandmother had conducted a running argument as Pilar sorted through things that had been damaged by the squatters. Her grandmother wanted to save everything, have it repaired or rebuilt. Pilar saw no point in spending time and money they didn’t have to repair useless relics of the past.

“I wore that mantilla for my first communion,” her grandmother said when Pilar tossed aside a ruined scrap of lace.

“It can’t be repaired.”

“I want to keep it.”

“No one can use it again.”

“Your daughter—”

“It’s so old-fashioned no one would wear it. Besides, black is miserably hot.”

Pilar had yet to discover why her clothes had been
spared while those of her grandmother had been largely destroyed. Everything would be used for rags or cut into squares to make quilts like those at the Wheeler ranch. Her grandmother considered them beneath her, but they had a kind of hardy character, a simplicity and utility Pilar found appealing. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have altered the character of the hacienda, but with so much destroyed, she didn’t mean to return to the heavy, dark, humorless style favored by her grandmother. She wanted more openness, more simplicity. She intended to ask Ivan if he could cut new windows. She wanted more light in the rooms.

“I don’t know what’s come over you,” her grandmother said. “You never used to be so willful or disrespectful.”

“I didn’t know any other way. Now I do. I intend to use the money we earn to make sure we’re safe, not fill this huge hacienda with useless, expensive ornaments that can be destroyed by anybody who breaks in.”

“That’ll be for Laveau to decide. And your husband.”

The three days since Manuel had arrived had been the worst of Pilar’s life.

She should have been thankful for his arrival. She had let her emotions overcome her common sense to the point that she had been on the verge of agreeing to marry Cade. She had gotten herself in hand since then, but her feelings hadn’t changed. She still loved Cade. Having confessed it to him made it easier to confess it to herself.

But she couldn’t marry him.

“I don’t intend to be ruled by my husband like you and my mother were. I will not be kept in the dark about the rancho.”

“It will become your husband’s upon your marriage.”

“That part of the contract will have to be changed.”

“Manuel would never agree.”

“Then I won’t marry him.”

“You cannot ask such a thing of him. It would insult his manhood.”

“It wouldn’t insult Cade’s manhood.”

“Pilar, you cannot marry that man.”

“I’ve said I won’t, but neither will I make myself a slave to Manuel. Either I have control of my property, or he can find himself another wife.”

“This is Cade Wheeler’s doing. He has filled your head with foolish ideas to make you dissatisfied with a proper husband.”

“The only foolish idea Cade put in my head is that I have a mind, thoughts, desires of my own—that I have a right to have them considered.”

“Your husband will do so.”

“When did your husband ever consider your wishes?”

“It is a man’s right to decide for his family.”

“Then let Manuel find himself a weak-willed female.”

“It is those Wheelers,” her grandmother said again. “You would never have talked like this before the war.”

“Before the war I wasn’t allowed to want anything unless some man told me to want it. When Laveau ran off, ‘I had to learn to manage on my own. When the squatters came, I had to learn to cook and put up with an old man who didn’t like anything I did. And I had to do it by myself because you refused to come out of that room
for two whole years.
It was horribly lonely, but I learned one very valuable lesson. I can survive on my own. If Manuel wants to marry me, he’ll have to do it on my terms.”

She had meant to subdue her rebellious will, forget she loved Cade more than anything on earth, and be a good wife to Manuel. But her grandmother asked too much. She
would give up her body because it was required. She would try to learn to respect her husband. But she would not go back to being property.

“No decent man will marry you under those terms,” her grandmother said.

“I don’t need a husband.”

“You need one to run the ranch.”

“What I can’t do, Cade will do for me. Maybe I’ll talk to him about combining our herds. I’m sure he would agree. Cade wants to become rich.”

“I command you to have nothing to do with that man.”

“He doesn’t ignore me or think I’m an idiot. When I ask him to show me the records, he will. I think I should learn to ride. It would be good to know more about day-to-day activities. You can oversee the household. I’m not very interested in that anyway.”

“Pilar diViere! Have you gone mad?”

“Maybe, but I don’t care. I like it.”

“All of this about letting Cade Wheeler work our herd is nonsense. Once we have money, I refuse to let him set foot in my house.”

Pilar didn’t know what came over her, but it happened so fast she couldn’t stop it. “Then we’ll divide the hacienda in half.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ll build a wall right through the middle. If Laveau comes home and tries to take it down, I’ll fight you both.”

“I hope you’re not talking about me.” Manuel had stuck his head in the door.

Her grandmother broke into smiles and moved to welcome Manuel. “Pilar is making very foolish pronouncements. I depend on you to talk some sense into her.”

Manuel’s swaggering into the room like he had a right
to be there set Pilar’s back up. For four years she hadn’t heard a word from him. He claimed he’d been fully occupied protecting his own ranch from bandits and rogue soldiers and hadn’t been aware of her situation. Yet he’d showed up little more than a week after Cade had driven the squatters out.

“What has my very beautiful future wife said that could upset her estimable grandmother?”

“She is talking about riding horses and learning to round up cows.”

“I was telling my grandmother I didn’t mean to give up control of my property upon my marriage.”

“But that is most unusual,” Manuel said, his expression stiffening. “In fact, it is unheard of.”

“I’m a most unusual woman.”

She heard a low rumble from the dog’s throat. Much to her grandmother’s fury, she had named him Wheeler.
Because he’s big and coarse,
her grandmother had said. The dog didn’t like Manuel. The feeling was mutual.

“She says she means to hire Cade Wheeler to be her foreman.”

“I intend to give him a percentage of the income in exchange for his work,” Pilar said. “Maybe once I’ve learned all he can teach me, I’ll do it myself.”

“What about what I can teach you?”

“I don’t know if I can depend on you, Manuel. I needed you badly during these last four years, but you never came or so much as sent a message.”

“I explained that—”

“I would really be much better off marrying Cade. Don’t you think that would be a good idea?”

“You cannot marry a man who would hang your brother,” Manuel said.

“Yes, that is a difficulty, but Cade thinks we can find a way around it.”

“You have talked about such a thing?”

“You’d be horrified if you knew the things we’ve talked about.”

“This is not proper.”

“No, but neither is being driven out of your house nor coming back to near total destruction. Quiet, Wheeler, I can hardly hear myself think.”

“I hate that dog,” her grandmother said for the hundredth time. “He is a big, smelly mongrel.”

“I keep him because he protected me from Clarence Odum. Did you know Cade went to jail because he protected me from Odum?” she asked Manuel.

“I do not understand her,” Manuel said to Senora diViere. “She has changed so much.”

“Everything has changed, Manuel, but I still need a husband. I will marry you, but the contract must be changed so that I retain control of my dowry.”

“But that is impossible. It cannot be done.”

“Then I won’t marry you.”

“But you must marry someone,” her grandmother said.

“Then I guess I’ll have to marry Cade.”

“I forbid it!” her grandmother declared so loudly Wheeler turned his big head in the old woman’s direction.

“Then talk some sense into Manuel. In the meantime, I’ve got to start supper.”

“Why do we still eat at this uncivilized hour?” Manuel asked. “And why do you persist in calling it supper rather than dinner?”

“We eat at this hour because the men need to eat before they go to bed. I call it supper because that’s the kind of food I cook.”

She left the room, closing the door behind her so quickly she left Wheeler inside. A sharp bark brought the error to her attention. She opened the door to let him out.

“I wouldn’t want to stay in there either. I have to do something about Manuel. Maybe he should live on his ranch in Mexico while I live here.”

How could anybody think she would prefer living with Manuel rather than Cade? It wasn’t that Manuel was so terrible—well, he was, but it had to be expected of anyone raised as he had been—but Cade was simply so much better.

But it would do her no good to dwell on Cade’s superiority. Or on anything about Cade. She couldn’t marry the man who wanted to hang her brother.

“You ought to be glad you’re a dog,” she said to Wheeler. “You don’t have to get married.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Holt said. He’d rounded the corner without her seeing him.

Pilar blushed. She still couldn’t get used to everybody knowing her business.

“It is when you don’t have any choice,” she said.

“You have a choice.”

“Are you saying I should marry the man who intends to hang my brother?”

“No. I’m just saying you have a choice.”

“I’d prefer a better one.”

Wheeler let out a bark and lumbered off down the breezeway. That meant Cade was coming. He was nearly equal to Pilar in Wheeler’s affections.

“You’ve got the best one there is,” Holt said. “Now I need to see your grandmother. I don’t like the sound of her cough.”

Pilar decided her grandmother coughed because it
brought Holt and Ivan to her side with Manuel not far behind. She’d never had so much attention in her whole life.

Pilar would have preferred to stay out of sight until Cade passed, but it was time to stop acting like a child. If she intended to ask Cade to work her ranch, she had to get used to seeing him, being around him, spending time with him.

The plan to hire Cade had popped out of her mouth because she was angry with Manuel. It made good business sense, but she didn’t know if she could do it. When Cade came out of one of the rooms, with Wheeler gamboling at his heels, she realized she couldn’t. She might hire him to do the work, but she would have to lock herself in when he came to the hacienda. Otherwise, just being around him, being close enough to reach out and touch him, might be enough to cause her to break her marriage vows. She didn’t want to marry Manuel, but if she did, she had every intention of being faithful.

Cade hesitated when he saw her, then strode forward with purpose. He clearly had something he wanted to say. Pilar decided to speak first. She didn’t trust him not to say something that would undermine what little self-control she had left.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she said. “I have a business proposition to offer you.” She had definitely caught him off guard.

“Drop the word
business,
and I’m all ears.”

She refused to be seduced by his smile. He’d lost most of his sense of humor sometime during the war, but traces of it surfaced now and again.

“My grandmother and I need someone to manage our herd. You’ll know the ranch well by the time you’ve finished
the roundup. We’ll offer you a percentage of every cow you sell if you’ll take care of them along with your own.”

“What about Manuel?”

“I’m going to retain control of my property.”

Cade laughed. She didn’t like the sound. “He won’t agree to that.”

“Then I won’t marry him.”

She shouldn’t have said that. His attitude changed abruptly. She saw hope spring into his eyes. “Then who will you marry?”

“With you taking care of my herds, I won’t need to marry anyone.”

“My friends won’t stay long. They only came to earn money for a grubstake.”

“I trust you to hire anybody you need. I’ll offer you half of the profits after all wages and expenses have been paid.”

“That’s very generous.”

“You’re very good. Now I have to go. Think about it and let me know.”

She hurried away before he could stop her. At least that was what she thought until she realized he hadn’t tried to stop her. She wasn’t at all sure she liked that.

Nate and Broc stopped her before she reached the kitchen.

“We’ve seen signs of somebody hanging around the ranch,” Nate said.

Was it more squatters or Cortina’s bandits from across the Rio Grande? “Did you tell Cade?” she said. “He’ll know what to do if it’s bandits.”

“It’s not bandits,” Broc said.

“Or it’s only one bandit,” Nate said.

Something in the tone of Nate’s voice made her feel uneasy. “Why hasn’t Cade said anything?”

“Because he’s in love with you.”

She felt heat suffuse her entire body.

“Why should that stop him?”

Wheeler whined impatiently. He knew she’d been headed toward the kitchen. He always got something to eat when she cooked.

“Because we think it may be your brother.”

Pilar’s emotions nearly overwhelmed her. She felt relief that Laveau was safe and joy that he might be coming home. At the same moment, she feared for his safety. And she felt angry at Laveau for deserting and making it impossible for her to marry the only man she could love. Angry at Cade and all his friends for their determination to hang Laveau. But she was determined that she would show none of these feelings. She couldn’t help Laveau if his enemies could read her like a book.

“Why are you telling me this?”