Lorraine Heath (15 page)

Dallas blinked hard and stared at her. Houston cleared his throat, and Amelia wished a dust storm would rise up and sweep her across the plains. After all these many months, she finally had the opportunity to speak with him in person, and she’d said something that might make him think she’d left her wits back in Georgia.

“I told you to put a rattlesnake on that hat instead of a bird. Raccoon wouldn’t have touched a rattlesnake.”

Dallas snapped his head around and glared so intensely at the young smiling man that she was surprised he didn’t topple out of his saddle. “Was she talking to you?”

The young man’s smile grew. “Nah, but I was listenin’.”

Dallas’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Carson, that youngster is my brother, Austin. I’ll introduce you to my men in time.”

Amelia smiled warmly at the young man. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said.

Austin ducked his head, blushing clear up to the roots of his scraggly black hair. Amelia’s cheeks grew warm. From the corner of her eye, she saw a muscle in Houston’s jaw strain as he fought to hold back what she was certain would be a smile if he gave it freedom. He had told her the truth about Austin: He was the sort people took to right away. Even while sitting in a saddle, he was more relaxed than either of his brothers.

His dark brown gaze uncompromising, his jaw tight, and his stance foreboding, Dallas turned his attention to Houston. “You’re over three weeks late, with no wagon, no supplies. Reckon you got some explaining to do.”

Houston shifted his body and pulled the brim on his hat low. “Reckon I do,” he said simply.

“We’ll discuss it up at the house,” Dallas said before he limped to his horse and pulled himself into the saddle. He urged his horse forward until it sidled up against Sorrel. “Miss Carson, will you do me the honor of riding at the front with me?”

She glanced over at Houston. He gave a brusque nod. She hadn’t expected to say good-bye to him like this—without saying good-bye at all. She thought of a hundred things she should say, wanted to say. She held her silence, forced a smile, met her future husband’s gaze, and nodded because at that very moment her throat was knotted with emotions. As Dallas guided her horse through the waiting men, she felt as though she was leaving something precious behind her.

Houston had expected his farewell to Amelia to consist of more than a quick nod, but at that moment he couldn’t have spoken to her if his life had depended on it. He watched Dallas lead her away from him, lead her toward her rightful place at his side. He told himself it was for the best, but he hadn’t hurt this badly since Yankee mortar fire had torn into him.

Austin urged his horse toward Houston. “You got some new ponies.”

Houston cleared his throat. “Yep.” His voice sounded as though he’d just swallowed a handful of dust. He cleared his throat again before prodding the mule forward to ride behind the awestruck procession.

Austin kicked his horse into a short canter and caught up before slowing down to keep pace. “She’s pretty, ain’t she?” Austin asked.

“Yep.”

“Think Dallas is pleased?”

Houston glanced over at Austin, his young face incredibly earnest. “If he ain’t pleased, then he’s a fool.”

Austin’s face split into a wide grin. “I ain’t never known him to be a fool.”

Houston heard Amelia’s light laughter, followed quickly by Dallas’s deeper chuckle. She needed a man who’d laugh with her. She’d find that in Dallas.

“She’s got a pretty laugh,” Austin said.

“Yep.”

“Dallas was fit to be tied waiting on you to get here.”

“Figured he would be.”

“He ain’t gonna like it at all that you took time to capture some horses.”

Houston sighed deeply. “Didn’t think he would.”

“He said that he was gonna shoot you for lettin’ that black stallion go.”

Houston gave his brother a sideways glance. “Now, how’d he know it was me that let the stallion go?”

Austin shrugged. “Just guessed, I reckon. Is she gonna be my ma?”

“Hell, no, she’s not gonna be your ma.”

Austin looked like a puppy that had just been kicked. “It ain’t fair to grow up without a ma. I was hoping Amelia might just sort of pretend she was my ma.”

“She’s Miss Carson to you, and she’s gonna be too busy being a wife to Dallas to be pretending much of anything.”

“Not until that circuit preacher gets back here, and Dallas is probably gonna shoot you on account of that, too.”

Houston snapped his gaze over to his brother. “The preacher’s not here?”

“Nope. He got here about three weeks ago, waited a whole week, then said he needed to get about searching for lost souls.”

Houston tightened his hold on the mule’s short cropped mane. Without a preacher, no marriage would take place. Until Amelia was safely tucked away as Dallas’s wife, Houston wouldn’t feel safe from his heart’s longings.

He wondered why he thought a little piece of paper could snuff out the flames of desire building within him. He wondered how much longer he had to wait before he had to endure the hell of watching Amelia become another man’s wife.

“Two months!” Dallas barked as he dropped into the leather chair behind his desk. He looked at Houston, grimaced slightly, turned the chair, and stared out the distant window. “It’ll be at least two months before the circuit preacher gets back here.”

Houston shifted in his chair on the other side of the desk, grateful Amelia was in a room upstairs taking a bath. He was accustomed to Dallas grimacing whenever he was in a fit of temper and looked Houston’s way. When he wasn’t in a fit of temper, he remembered that he couldn’t stomach the sight of his brother. Houston knew the reason Dallas preferred not to look at him. It was a testament of Dallas’s love and strength of character that he’d never thrown the reason into Houston’s face.

“I got her here as fast as I could.”

Dallas leaned back in his chair and raised a dark brow. “You just happened to find a bunch of horses tied together on a rope?”

“Wild horses are gettin’ scarce. I thought—”

“I don’t need horses. I need a son!”

“So send somebody to fetch the preacher back,” Austin suggested as he hitched up a hip and sat on the edge of the desk.

Dallas glared at him. “Was I talking to you?”

Austin’s face split into a wide grin. “Nah, but I was listenin’.”

“Why don’t you go listen somewhere else?” Dallas asked.

“ ’Cuz I wanna know what happened to the wagon.”

Dallas thrummed his fingers on the desk. His jaw clenched. “What did happen to the wagon?”

“Lost it when I tried to cross a swollen river.”

“Why in the hell did you do that?” Dallas roared.

“Because we’d already lost some time, and I thought you’d be worrying.”

“He was worryin’ all right. Just like an old woman—”

Dallas slammed his hand on the desk and came out of his chair. Austin slid off the desk and took a step back, the grin easing off his face, his gaze never leaving his brother’s.

“Children are to be seen and not heard,” Dallas said in a low deep voice.

“I ain’t a child,” Austin said, his chin quivering, his voice anything but deep. He balled his fists at his side. Houston could see that he was trying to decide if this was the moment when he should stand his ground … or if he should save his hide and run.

“As long as you live under my roof, eat the food from my table …”

Houston resisted the urge to cover his ears as Dallas continued his tirade much as their father had before him. Houston could remember those very words directed his way. He’d been eight, sitting in a patch of clover, tying the little flowers together, making his mother a necklace. He’d made the mistake of slipping the chain of flowers over his head to see if it was big enough. His father had torn the flowers off, scattering them on the wind before he’d told Houston how he should behave in the ways of a man. Houston had felt smaller than the ants crawling beneath the clover.

“He didn’t mean any harm,” Houston said quietly.

Dallas stopped his tirade midsentence and shook his head. “What did you say?”

“I said that Austin didn’t mean any harm. You’re angry at me, not him. So take your anger out on me, not him.”

“It’s my fault,” a soft voice said from the doorway.

Houston bolted out of the chair, nearly knocking it over.

Amelia walked into the room wearing a scoop-necked peasant blouse and skirt like the women wore in Mexico, her feet bare, her hair loose. She looked like an angel, only Houston knew differently. He could see the anger reflected in her eyes. Reflexes had him taking a step back. Curiosity had him wondering if Dallas had just met his match.

Dallas cleared his throat. “Miss Carson, I’m certain you did nothing wrong—”

“I didn’t say I did anything wrong,” she corrected him as she stopped before him and tilted her face. The afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, bathing her in a yellow halo. “You’re angry because our trip was delayed, and I don’t blame you for that. I’m certain you were concerned and that’s enough to make anyone irritable. But when we saw the horses …” She sighed sweetly. “They were magnificent. If you’d heard Houston’s voice when he said he’d come back for them … I knew they’d be gone, that he knew he’d never possess them. So I talked him into taking the time to capture them. We lost a few travel days, but we’re here now.”

She made it sound as though they would have been fools if they’d passed up the horses. Dallas was staring at her as though he couldn’t think of anything to say.

“And the horses were so important now that Houston is breeding them.”

Inwardly, Houston groaned. Why hadn’t she stopped talking while peace was settling within the room?

“What?” Dallas asked, apparently finding his voice. He looked at Houston and winced. “You’re breeding horses?”

“Thinking about it. I’m just thinking about it.”

“That’s not—”

He stopped Amelia’s words with as cold a glare as he could muster. She lowered her gaze but not before he saw the hurt he’d put in her eyes. He’d forever be hurting her. It was his way, and he hated when it touched her. He needed to leave, but he couldn’t leave without trying to put a smile back into those green eyes. “I like those clothes. Where did you get them?”

Grabbing the sides, she fanned out the skirt. “The cook brought them to me. He said they’d belonged to his wife.”

“Hand-me-downs,” Houston said quietly, knowing it was no longer his place to worry about the clothing she wore. Dallas had taken over that responsibility earlier in the day, when he’d led Amelia away from Houston’s side, but he found himself worrying anyway.

“She won’t be wearing hand-me-downs for long. I’ve already sent one of my men to fetch yard goods.” He looked at Amelia. “There’s a small settlement to the south of us. I can’t guarantee that what he selects would be your first choice in materials, but until I can find the time—”

Amelia held up her hand, warmed by Dallas’s consideration. “You don’t have to explain. I’m quite grateful for what I have.”

“Still, I put him on a fast horse so he should be back within three or four days.”

“I’m sorry we lost most of the clothes you purchased me in Fort Worth. They were lovely.”

Dallas furrowed his brow. “What clothes?”

“The clothes you told Houston to purchase for me.”

“He didn’t tell Houston to purchase you any clothes,” Austin said.

“He did tell me to purchase her some clothing,” Houston said in a low voice.

“I don’t recall him saying anything about clothes.”

“You weren’t there,” Houston said.

“I was there the whole time you were talk—”

With one swift movement, Houston grabbed the scruff of Austin’s shirt. Despite the boy’s protest, Houston hauled him out of the room.

Dallas cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to help settle this matter.”

Amelia pressed her hand just above her pounding heart. “Certainly.”

As soon as he walked out of the room, the harsh whispering in the hallway increased in volume. If she were a gambler, she would have bet money that Dallas hadn’t told Houston to purchase her clothing. He’d bought her clothing because she’d been carrying one small bag with everything she owned tucked inside. The “outfits” had been a gift from Houston, a gift he’d never planned to claim. She wondered how many other gifts he might have given her: her life, a Texas sunset. She smiled with the memory of him inside her tent, stripping down. She wished now that she’d watched the entire show.

The men trudged back into Dallas’s office, each wearing disgruntled expressions.

“My apologies, Miss Carson,” Austin said. “Seems I was wrong. Dallas did tell Houston to purchase you some clothes.”

She glanced first at Houston, then at Dallas. Their jaws were firmly set. The lie, she supposed, was for her sake. “No harm done. I’m sure quite a bit was said … or thought to be said before Houston was sent to fetch me.”

Houston settled his hat on his head. “I need to be goin’.”

“The cook said supper would be ready soon. Surely you’ll stay for the meal,” Amelia said, hating the thought of his leaving.

Houston watched as sadness and nervousness warred within Amelia’s eyes. He wanted to stay. He wanted to leave. He wanted a few minutes alone with her so he could explain what couldn’t be explained.

“You’ll stay. Miss Carson wants you here,” Dallas said, his tone effectively putting an end to Houston’s choices.

Weary from the journey, Houston nodded. “I’ll stay.”

“I’m so glad,” Amelia said before she turned to Dallas. “I have something for you.” Holding out her hand, she unfurled her fingers to reveal a gold pocket watch. “A small token of my affection. But it broke.”

“Your affection broke?” Dallas asked.

Houston wished he hadn’t heard the catch in Dallas’s voice, but the sound brought home how much Dallas was depending on Amelia to marry him, to give him the son he wanted.

Amelia smiled softly. “No, the watch broke. I was carrying it in a hidden pocket in my skirt, and it got ruined when I jumped into the river. If you shake it, you can hear the water that’s still trapped inside.”

Dallas took the gift from her, held it near his ear, and rattled it. “Well, I’ll be. I’ll treasure it always.”