Texas Rose TH2 (45 page)

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Authors: Patricia Rice

Tags: #Historical, #AmerFrntr/Western/Cowboy

BOOK: Texas Rose TH2
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Evie shook her head. "Tyler was... Well, I know what you mean."

"Jumped the gun, did he?" Peyton chuckled. "Well, then, you know what me and your mother felt like." He rubbed the back of his neck. "The night she told me she couldn't go with me, I felt like I'd been poleaxed. I didn't think to inquire about intimate details, although I suppose it would have been too soon for her to know anyway. I just packed and left in a rage."

"Did you ever write to her? Let her know where you were?" Evie wasn't certain if knowing why she was a bastard would assuage the hurt any, but all these years of curiosity demanded answers.

"Hell, I wrote to her all the time. I wrote to her every night and mailed the letter whenever I got a chance. It takes months for mail to be delivered, so it was a while before I realized I wasn't getting any answers. Then I started to write once a week. When I still didn't hear from her, it dwindled to twice a month. By the end of the year I was making a little money, and I offered to come get her. I sent one of those letters every day in case they got waylaid. Finally, I lowered my pride and wrote Angelina. She was just a kid, but she wrote Elizabeth had left town and hadn't come home."

"She went to St. Louis to have me," Evie answered quietly. "I didn't know she stayed that long. I don't think I could give up a baby I'd come to know and love."

"Elizabeth was a strong woman. She knew her own mind. She hated Mineral Springs. She fought constantly with her father. She couldn't let anyone know she'd carried the child of a half-breed penniless farmer, and out of wedlock at that. So she did what was best for you. She gave you the life she had known before she came here." Peyton gave Evie's expensive dress a knowing look. "You didn't lack for anything, did you?"

"Only love." Evie turned at the sound of the front door opening. Tyler didn't explain what he did all day but he came home at this time every night. She supposed he was gambling at the saloon, but the big games were at night. He couldn't be making much.

Tyler filled the doorway, his eyes taking in the scene without expression. As usual, he was dressed like a gentleman, wearing the frock coat and tie and low-crowned Stetson that set him apart from the rough ranchers and farmers and merchants of town. He took the Stetson off and spun it toward the bed with a proprietary air.

"Peyton." He nodded laconically.

"My daughter and I were just getting acquainted." There was a note of defiance in Peyton's reply.

Tyler's gaze swept to Evie's strained face. She looked to be on the verge of tears, and he crossed the room in two strides. Pulling her up from the bed, he brushed a kiss across her cheek, and she came into his arms as willingly as a lamb. He held her protectively in his embrace, and something dangerous inside of him clicked into place. He turned back to Peyton.

"I wondered if you were man enough to admit it." Tyler felt the shock rippling through the woman at his side, but Evie would come around quicker if he made her mad. He gave her a look of satisfaction when she tried to pull free. "Sorry, darling, but the resemblance is pretty clear even without the name. I'm surprised you haven't got around to carrying paintbrushes in your pockets."

"Tyler Monteigne, I'm going to smack you if you don't let me go right now. You've no call to be rude to my father."

Tyler reached around her and slipped his hand into the deep pocket of her gown. He pulled it out again with his fist clenched triumphantly around an assortment of oddities. Pulling a charcoal pencil from the litter, he held it out to the man watching them with uncertainty.

"Are all artists absentminded dreamers, or did she inherit that trait like the talent?"

Evie elbowed Tyler and grabbed the pencil still wrapped in his palm. "I am not absentminded. There are perfectly good reasons for everything in there. Now give me back my things, Tyler, or I'll start going through your pockets."

Tyler dumped the jumble into her hands, then held his palms free of his clothes. "Search away, woman, see what you can find."

Evie's gaze drifted to the area where his trouser pockets were located. If they had been alone...

But they were never alone. With a wry grimace of acceptance, she reached for his inside coat pocket and pulled out the derringer he kept there. "Does it have real bullets?" she asked with wide-eyed innocence as she pointed it at him.

Gingerly, Tyler disarmed her, and put the gun back where it belonged. He gave Peyton an apologetic look. "She really isn't as dumb as she pretends to be."

Since the "she" in question was now alive and kicking instead of pale-faced and teary-eyed, Peyton nodded in appreciation of Tyler's tactics. "I wouldn't expect her to be. Her mother was an intelligent woman. I'm the one missing in the brains department."

Tyler grinned as he caught Evie's arms to keep her from any further assaults. "Well, I've been told the same thing, but I'm smart enough to know a good thing when I see one."

"I am not a thing, Tyler Monteigne," Evie hissed, struggling to be free of his grasp.

"Who says I'm talking about you?" Tyler released her wrists and held up his hands again. Seeing the bouquet of roses filling the vase on the dresser, he grabbed one and handed it to her. They weren't the real thing, but they were all he had to offer. "Truce OK? Am I going to get to hear the whole story or do I make up my own?"

Years of details tumbled out over the next few hour as Daniel came in and dinner was served and everyone had their own stories to tell. Although James Peyton had left Texas long before the children were born, they had memories of their mother reading his letters, of the gift she bought for them when he sent her money, and excited voices carried the meal long after dark.

When Evie and Carmen finally took the youngest off to bed, Peyton glanced around the main room with puzzlement. Daniel sat on the straw pallet by the fireplace reading a book. The boys had gone off to the back bedroom, and Maria was being bedded down in the front bedroom. He shook his head and gave Tyler a considering look.

"They don't leave you much privacy, do they?"

Having discarded coat, tie, and waistcoat in the evening heat, Tyler sat at the table in shirtsleeves, sipping his coffee. He shrugged lightly at the question. "There's a few problems we haven't conquered yet."

Peyton's eyes narrowed. "What do you do for a living? Seems to me if you're in a position to marry you ought to be in a position to offer a wife a house of her own."

Tyler merely set his cup down and offered his most charming grin. "I prefer challenges, sir. Any man can find himself a sweet little wife and settle her in a cozy cottage and bring home enough coins to keep her happy But that's not enough for me."

Daniel spoke up from his corner, glancing over the top of his glasses. "He means he's a gambler who'd rather take his chances on a crazy woman for wife. Evie isn't precisely the settling-down sort."

Tyler leaned back in his chair and gave Daniel a puzzled look. "They don't come much more settled down than Evie. Who else would land in town and immediately cover herself up with children?"

"A woman with more energy than sense," Peyton replied with a chuckle. "The boy's right. Evie's got a restless soul. It doesn't take a father to see that."

Disgruntled to be told something he hadn't discerned for himself, Tyler went back to sipping his coffee. He fully intended to wait out the lot of them. He'd let Evie go to her own bed last night because he'd known she was rattled by the day's events, but he had no intention of being so generous tonight. She could mother the whole damned town all day if she liked, but at night, she was his.

When Evie finally emerged from the bedroom, Tyler watched her closely. She was so beautiful that she made his heart ache, along with other parts of his anatomy, he acknowledged. But it wasn't just her beauty that held his interest. Perhaps it was her restless soul as her father called it. But it certainly didn't seem restless tonight. She looked a trifle subdued in the light of the lantern she was adjusting.

Tyler couldn't stand the waiting any longer. He stood up and announced to the room at large, "I think we need to turn in early tonight. Evie, is there anything you want to take with you?"

She shot him an uncertain look, then looked at the lantern as she set it down. "Mr. Hale says Cleveland isn't legally a minister."

Tyler felt the knife through his middle even before her words registered. It was in the tone of her voice, the way she turned away from him. He was in trouble now, but he'd found his way out of worse spots. He gathered his shattered wits and applied them to the problem.

"Hale is a troublemaker, but if it will make you happy, we'll do it again at the church."

Evie gave him a sideways look as she played with the crocheted doily on the table. "You'd better think about it first, Tyler, while you still have a chance."

He felt like he'd just been hit by a timber and abandoned. He stiffened and reached for his coat. "If that's the way you feel about it, then maybe you're right."

He walked out, leaving everyone else in the room staring at Evie. She stood there frozen, the crushed doily in her hand. Then donning a familiar smile, she made her excuses and returned to the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

 

 

 

Chapter 35

 

"Are they still at it?" Evie whispered anxiously as she walked Daniel home from the newspaper office. He really didn't need assistance any longer. It was almost six weeks since the leg had been broken, and he maneuvered fairly well on crutches, but she wanted this time to talk to him.

"Last I heard," Daniel replied noncommittally. Since Tyler had walked out over two weeks ago, Evie hadn't been particularly communicative. She had gone about her schoolteaching as if she didn't have a care in the world while the town gossiped around her. Knowing Evie, he reckoned a crisis was imminent, but he was staying out of it this time. This one wasn't any of his business.

"Nobody can play poker for three days straight." Evie tightened her lips into a worried line. "It's not natural. There isn't enough money in this whole blamed town to be worth sitting through that."

"That's one opinion." Daniel shrugged. He gave Evie a sideways look. "Averill told me he hears that you and Tyler aren't legally married, and that you're planning to sue him for misrepresentation or something like that. Where do you think he got that news?"

"Not from me." Evie's lips tightened even further. "If that's what Tyler is telling everybody, I have a bug to put in his ear."

"Don't you dare, Evie," Daniel warned as they came close to the alley. "You'll stay out of that saloon, or they'll likely take your job and the kids away. The scandal is enormous enough as it is."

"Tyler Monteigne can rot in that saloon, if he wants. He can play poker until his eyes drop out and his hands fall off. But I'll be doggoned if I'll let him go around telling false tales about me."

"Lies, Evie. The word is lies. And you've told your fair share of them at one time or another. They're just coming home to roost, like I warned you they would."

Evie picked up her skirt and started down the alley. "You're the one who said we needed to be careful. You're the one who agreed I might be in danger if I used my own name. Now don't go preaching honesty at me now, Daniel. And I haven't told a single lie in..." She contemplated the last time she'd let her imagination stretch the truth a little. "Well, I don't think it's been since I told Mr. Hale about my friend in St. Louis. There hasn't been a need to lie about anything."

"That's because the truth has become more fantastic than your imagination. Now that you know who your parents are, why don't you just go over to Hale and ask about the money? You know there has to be some. Those lawyers in St. Louis may be keeping it for themselves."

"That's what Mr. Peyton says. My father," she amended. Evie halted before the porch and looked at Daniel with bewilderment clouding her eyes. "But I just have this feeling that telling everyone who I am will come as an unpleasant shock to too many people. How will the Hardings feel when they learn the stepmother they idolize had a child out of wedlock? The children don't mind knowing I'm related to them, but what if there are other Howells out there I don't know about? How will they feel knowing Elizabeth wasn't a saint? For all that matters, the whole town thinks of her that way. And it's only my father's word against everyone else's that she wasn't. Who do you think they will believe?"

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