The Texan's Bride (14 page)

Her father had brought her here many times as a child. She loved homemade vanilla and refused to try any other flavors. Her father had said she was stubborn. And she was—stubborn, manipulative, controlling. That’s why she’d lost everything. She’d forced Cadde into marriage. She’d forced him into having a child. And now she suffered the ultimate punishment—the loss of her child. The loss of Cadde.

She couldn’t think about it. She wouldn’t allow herself to. It would kill her. And she had to be alive to feel the pain.

Starting the car, she drove toward Houston alone
in the darkest of nights. She wasn’t afraid. There was nothing left to fear.

She checked into a hotel and people stared at her bruised face, but she ignored them. She slept for two days. When she woke up, she didn’t know where she was and then it all came flooding back and she screamed into a pillow to stop the vivid nightmare.

After a moment she went through the motions of taking a shower and then ordered food even though she wasn’t hungry. Forcing herself to eat, she wondered what she was going to do. She couldn’t see Cadde. It would be too painful and they had to make a clean break. She had to let him go. The thought didn’t even faze her. She was an awful person and he’d be better off without her.

With that concept firmly in her head, she called her lawyer, Hal, and had him file for a quick divorce. She also gave Cadde control of Shilah.

He’d earned it.

Pacing her room, she plotted what she needed to do next. She had to get away. But where? She could call Rosa or Myra, but they’d just try to change her mind. There had to be someone who would help—someone who would understand and not ask questions.

She picked up the house phone.

Within thirty minutes she opened the door to Hooter Caldwell.

“What is it? Oh, Jessie, your face.”

“It’ll heal.” She didn’t want to talk about her bruises or what had happened.

“Why are you in this hotel?”

“I need your help.”

He removed his hat, chomping on his cigar. “Sure, anything. I heard—”

“Don’t say it!” she shouted. She couldn’t hear those words.

“Okay.” He gave her a strange look.

“I need money.”

“Jessie, honey, you have more money than I do.”

“Cadde would know if I accessed my account. I’ve already used all my cash for the hotel and I want to be gone before Cadde finds out where I am.”

“Jessie, go home. Talk to the man.”

“Are you going to help me or not?”

He scratched his balding head. “I suppose. I’d do anything for you.”

“Find out who my aunts in Italy are and their address.”

One shaggy eyebrow rose. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Chip at Shilah has all the information. You just have to get it.”

“Cadde will be there and he’s not stupid.”

“But you’re sneaky just like Daddy and I know you can find a way.”

“Jessie, you’re looking mighty pale. Why don’t you take a nap and think about this first.”

She clenched her hands at her side. “Get me the information.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t get upset.”

“I’ll also need a plane ticket to the town and some extra cash.”

Hooter sighed. “You’re asking a lot, Jessie. I wish you’d…”

“If you don’t want to do it, I’ll…”

“Now wait a minute.” He plopped his hat on his head. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

“Hooter?”

He turned back. “If you tell Cadde, I’ll never forgive you.”

After Hooter left, she lay down and fell into a deep sleep. Four hours later she woke up, disoriented. It took a moment to get her bearings. She trembled, forcing memories away. A tap at the door had her scrambling to look through the peephole before opening it.

Hooter walked in and handed her a manila envelope. “There’s the information you need including an open-ended return ticket—first-class.”

“Thank you, Hooter, but I don’t know if I’m coming back.”

“What? Everything Roscoe built for you is here.”

She placed the envelope on the bed. “My father built everything for himself—not me. He never thought about me or my feelings. It was all about him and having control. And, sadly, I’m just like him.”

“I’ve never seen you like this, Jessie. Roscoe worshipped you.”

“Like a statue in a closet.”

Hooter removed his hat and scratched his head. “That’s mighty bitter.”

Jessie bit her lip to keep the trembling inside. “Thanks for everything you’ve done. I appreciate it.”

“Call Cadde. He hasn’t returned to work yet so getting the info from Chip was a snap.”

“I’ll repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Call your husband.”

Jessie, feeling pressured, walked over and opened the door. “Thank you, Hooter.”

The man left without another word.

She felt so tired, but she had to keep going and find a way out of Houston. But she would need her passport. It was in her father’s study at the house. How did she get it without anyone seeing her?

Maybe she’d sleep and a plan would come to her. And that’s what she did—until morning. After showering and dressing, she used her credit card to rent a car. She’d be long gone before Cadde could have it traced. An hour later she was headed for the house. It was Thursday and Felix always bought feed early on that day. She parked away from the entrance, but she could see Cadde’s truck. How did she get past him for her passport?

She pulled her cell out of her purse and dialed the office. “Hi, Barbara, this is Jessie.”

“Uh…Jessie…uh…”

She could hear the sympathy in the woman’s voice and nausea rose in her throat. “Is Cadde there?”

“Uh…no…he’s at home.”

“Would you please let him know that I’m coming into the office?”

“Um…sure.”

“Thank you.”

Within minutes Cadde’s truck tore out of the drive
way and she drove slowly toward the house. Now she had to get past Rosa. She parked away from the kitchen so Rosa wouldn’t see her. Since Cadde had just left she was betting the alarm system was off. Slowly, she inserted her key into the lock on the front door. It opened smoothly without a siren going off. Good!

For a moment she froze in the entry as that awful afternoon flashed through her mind. No, no! She forced it away and hurried into her dad’s study. Kneeling, she opened the bottom drawer and pulled out her passport. Mirry appeared, wagging her nub of a tail.

“Oh, Mirry.” She gathered the dog into her arms, kissing her face.

“Mirry, where are you?” Rosa called.

Jessie shrank beneath the desk, holding the little dog.

“Mirry?” She could hear Rosa going up the stairs.

“Bye.” She kissed the dog’s face and ran for the front door. It didn’t click behind her, but there wasn’t time to correct that. As she backed out, she saw Mirry on the porch. Tears stung the back of her eyes, but she didn’t cry. She couldn’t.

Driving away from everything she loved, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the daughter of scheming, conniving Roscoe Murdock.

“A
RE YOU SURE IT WAS
J
ESSIE
?” Cadde asked Barbara.

“Yes, Cadde, she said her name and I know her voice.”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s been over two hours and she’s not here.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

Cadde went back into his office, trying to figure out what had happened. Why wasn’t Jessie here?

Chance and Kid walked in.

“Hey, any word on Jessie?” Kid asked.

He’d forgotten to call his brothers to let them know that Jessie had called. “She said she was coming in, but she hasn’t arrived.”

“That’s odd,” Kid replied.

“Yeah,” Chance added. “Why would she come here instead of the house? She’s hardly ever here unless it’s to check her mail and lately you’ve been taking that home to her.”

They were right. Jessie never came into the office anymore. If she was in town, she’d call and they’d meet in the apartment.

“Sounds like she wanted you out of the way,” Kid remarked.

“That’s it.” Cadde snapped his fingers. “She wanted me out of the way.” He grabbed his phone and called Rosa.

“Rosa, is Jessie there?”

“No, Mr. Cadde, but something strange happened.”

“What?”

“I was looking for Mirry and I found her on the porch. The front door was opened and Mirry was gazing down the road, barking.”

“I’ll be right there.” He jumped up and reached for his jacket.

“Don’t you want the figures on the Louisiana well?” Kid asked, and he knew Kid was trying to distract him. But there was no distraction from this maelstrom of sadness.

“Leave it on my desk. I’ll look at it later.”

Since it was noon, the traffic was heavy. He weaved in and out of cars and trucks in a hurry to get home. He didn’t know what for. Jessie wasn’t going to be there. She’d made it very clear she didn’t want to see him and had gone to extreme measures for him not to be there. That was just another hurt his loaded heart couldn’t take.

But Jessie had come home for something. What?

On U.S. 290 he got behind an 18-wheeler and couldn’t get around the big vehicle. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as cars zoomed past on his left—seemed like the whole world was headed into Houston to Christmas shop.

Finally, he turned down the county road and sped to the house. He hurried inside. “Rosa, I think Jessie came home. Is anything missing?”

“No, Mr. Cadde, and I looked. Everything’s the same.”

“Thanks.”

He made his way into the living room and fell onto the sofa, rubbing the palms of his hands into his eyes. He needed to know she was okay—that she was safe. The enormity of the situation hit him like a sledgehammer to the head. He hadn’t protected her. She’d been attacked by a Doberman and a lunatic, all on his watch. He’d let Roscoe down, but most of all he’d let Jessie down. How did he live with that?

A whimper sounded at his feet and he saw Mirry looking up at him. Lifting her, he cradled her in his lap. “Did you see Jessie today?”

Mirry wiggled her knob of a tail. “You did, didn’t you?” Rubbing the dog’s head, he got lost in his thoughts. Why hadn’t Jessie taken Mirry? That surprised him. Maybe she was going somewhere the dog couldn’t go. Where, though?

He went round and round the situation, but nothing made sense. How could they go from deliriously happy to this agonizing numbness?

“Cadde.” Chance stood in the doorway. “Are you okay?”

“No. I’m never going to be the same again.” He was honest. That was all he could be.

Chance took a seat in a wingback chair, placing his hat on the arm. Cadde had no idea where his own hat was. Jessie used to tease him about that. He’d never had a problem with his Stetson until he moved into the house for good. Jessie had his emotions turned upside down and he didn’t care about his hat—only her.

“Kid and I did something I need to tell you,” Chance said.

For a moment he was shocked someone else was in the room and then he saw Chance’s worried face. “What?”

“We had a marker made for the baby’s grave.”

“Oh.”

“They’ll set it tomorrow if it’s okay with you. It’s small, just something to mark the site. We put Baby Cadde Hardin and the date on it.”

Cadde held a hand over his eyes and felt a gut-wrenching pain. He waited for it to subside. “Thanks. I appreciate that. Jessie will, too, if she ever comes home.”

“She will. She’s just hurting right now.”

He clenched his hands between his knees. “Did you tell Shay you loved her when you were dating?”

“Uh…yes, and she told me she didn’t love me.”

“I remember. You were devastated.”

“Yeah. That’s not something a man wants to hear.”

He took a breath. “I never told Jessie I loved her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I was stupid.” He jerked his hands through his hair.

He took a moment to try and understand his own behavior. “Everything was going so great. We were happy, yet…”

“Remember how Mom used to make you say it?” Chance asked. “When she’d drive us to school, Kid and I would jump out yelling, ‘Love you, Mom.’ She’d have to call you back and make you say it.”

“Yeah, and if Dad was there he’d say, ‘Leave the boy alone. He doesn’t have to say anything he doesn’t want to. You’re making a sissy, a momma’s boy out of him.’”

And there it was—the big ugly monster in the room—his father’s opinion mattered. He’d grown up trying to be like him—tough, strong, with his feelings bottled up inside. He was a man and didn’t have to bow to a woman’s will. But in the end his father had bent over backward to please his mistress.

Cadde buried his face in his hands. “Oh, God. I’m just like him—emotionally unavailable.”

“No, you’re not.”

He raised his head. “Do you ever remember Dad saying ‘I love you’ to any of us?”

Chance studied the Oriental rug on the floor. “No.”

“There was always ‘That’s my boy,’ ‘I’m proud of you,’ ‘You did good,’ but not ever ‘I love you.’ How could I emulate a man like that?”

“Cadde…”

“Jessie needed to hear those words. I felt them, but that’s not enough. A woman wants to hear them. That’s why Mom pushed us to say the words she never heard from him. Son of a bitch!”

Silence followed—a heartrending quiet.

“I’ve lost her, Chance,” he said in a low voice.

“No, you haven’t. You hit a big bump in the road, but you’ll both get through this—together.”

“Jessie blames herself for the baby’s death.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She’s the one who put the idea of marriage into Roscoe’s head. She said…she’s been in love with me ever
since we met. But I couldn’t see
her
for Shilah. And now…”

“Oh, man.”

“The boardroom antics were to get my attention. I never saw the signs, so she thought of the baby deal. She’s blaming herself for manipulating the circumstances and she feels the loss of our son is her punishment.”

“You don’t blame her, do you?”

“Hell, no, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She’s out there—” he waved a hand toward the window “—all alone in a world that’s not safe.”

“Just give her time,” Chance suggested, standing. He looked down at all the Christmas decorations. “You might want to get rid of this stuff.”

Cadde got to his feet. “I have a baby’s room to undo, too. I don’t want Jessie to see it when she comes home.”

Chance gave him a hug. “Hang in there, brother.”

“Thanks for the marker.”

“Anytime.” Chance headed for the door and stopped. “The Louisiana well is right on track. No problems yet and the office is running smoothly, just in case you wanted to know.”

“Thanks.”

Cadde sat in the living room until midnight, dozing on and off, waiting for Jessie to come home. He trudged up to bed. He slept in his old room, not able to sleep in the master bedroom without Jessie.

Almost asleep, he heard Mirry whimpering. He
picked her up and placed her on the blanket. She was missing Jessie, too.

Jessie, please, come home.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
J
ESSIE WAITED
for the divorce papers so she could sign them. When they arrived, she scribbled her name without allowing herself to think. She had the hotel courier them to Hal’s office and then he’d send them to Cadde for his signature.

Their marriage was over.

At ten she was on a plane for New York. She had to wait several hours, curled up in a chair, for her flight to Rome. Her aunts, Teresa and Margaret Martinez, worked in an orphanage on the outskirts of the city. She had no idea what she was going to find across the ocean. Her aunts didn’t even know she was coming. All Jessie knew was that she had to get away and make some sense of her shattered, broken life.

Before she boarded the plane, she called Myra and left a message. It was simple:
I’m fine. Please don’t search for me.
She didn’t want the people who cared about her to worry.

A man who sat beside her in first class wore a Stetson and cowboy boots. She avoided looking at him. He was too vivid a reminder. She’d left her hair down to cover her bruised face. Suddenly, she felt hot and weak and had to take a couple of deep breaths. She should have eaten something.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” the man asked.

“Yes. I’m just a little nervous about flying. Thank you.” She curled up and turned away from him, hop
ing the weakness would leave. Her hair fell forward, covering her face. Exhaustion consumed her and she fell asleep. When she awoke, she saw that a blanket was around her.

The man’s long legs were stretched out with his boots crossed one over the other. They were sitting in the first seats. She guessed that’s why he was here, ’cause he needed leg room. He was tall like… No, no, no! She couldn’t think his name. She’d fall apart.

She went back to sleep. The stewardess woke her when she served food. Jessie tried to eat, but nothing tasted good to her. She could feel the man’s eyes on her, so she shifted away to her own thoughts and her own private hell. But sleep eventually overtook her.

A long time later the stewardess gently shook her. “We’re fixing to land. Buckle up.” Jessie had lost track of time. She didn’t even know what day it was. Nor did she care. When the plane landed, the man quickly grabbed his bag and joined the exit line.

Jessie watched as if from a distance. Slowly, she got to her feet, the weakness returning. Somehow she made it through customs, even managed to change her money into euros. There was so much confusion, people speaking Italian and wanting answers. She just wanted to lie down and close her eyes. Someone directed her to a cab and she crawled inside.

“Dove vuoi andare?”
the man asked.

She had no idea what he’d said, but she dug in her purse for the address and showed it to him.

“Sì. Benvenuti a Roma.”

The white cab took off at a dangerous speed. Jes
sie held on to the door. A busy ancient city flashed by so different from the world she’d left. Soon there were stone houses with English ivy growing up the sides, clothes hanging outside on a line, people on bicycles and everyone seemed to be shouting or gesturing.

The scenes faded in and out as dizziness assailed her. She tried to focus on the hilly Italian countryside of pines, orange and palm trees but couldn’t. The man braked to a sudden stop and she saw the big stone structure attached to a church with a bell tower. Children played in a courtyard.

The man flung out an arm. “The good sisters. You nun?” He said the words in English.

She shook her head, not wanting to talk to him. Not having a clue what to pay, she handed him some euros, hoping it was enough.

“Grazie. Grazie.”
He happily nodded his head and she got out, clutching her bag. The temperature was chilly and felt good. The cab zoomed away and she stared at the cold, foreign building that had to be hundreds of years old.

What was she doing here?

Her eyes went to the bright blue sky and her head spun. Dizziness gripped her and suddenly she was falling, falling onto the cobblestones. And everything went black.

“C
ADDE
, I’
VE HEARD FROM
Jessie!” Myra shouted, charging into the living room.

He was immediately on his feet. “When? What did she say?”

“I was in court so she left a message saying she’s fine and not to search for her.”

“But she’s not fine.”

“I know that and you know that, but it seems Jessie has to grieve alone. I say let’s give her some time.”

He gritted his teeth and against every instinct in him he said, “Okay.”

“I had the police on the lookout for her vehicle.”

“And?”

“They got a call from the Marriott Hotel that a silver Suburban had been parked in their garage for several days. It’s Jessie’s.”

“There’s no charge on her credit card for that. She must have used cash.”

“Yes. She checked out two days ago.”

Cadde eased onto the sofa. “Since she left the vehicle behind, I’m guessing she took a flight somewhere.”

“That’s my guess, too. I could continue checking, but I’m going to leave that up to you. Personally, I think we have to give her time and I believe she’ll come home.”

“I…uh…” Cadde wanted to find her as soon as possible, but Jessie didn’t want to see him. She’d made that very clear. Giving her space and time was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, except for losing his child. He drew a deep breath. “Okay. Tell the hotel I’ll pick up the car.”

Before Myra could leave, his cell buzzed and he reached for it. “Damn, thanks, Arnie.”

Slipping the phone in its case, he said to Myra, “I had Arnie, one of the accountants, checking credit card purchases. A charge for a rental car came through on
Jessie’s. That’s how she came to the house undetected.” He sighed.

“Cadde, I’m sorry.”

“I know. I have to believe she’ll come home.”

That afternoon he called Kid. They brought the vehicle back to the house and parked it in the garage, in her spot, waiting for her return.

T
HE DAYS PASSED SLOWLY
for Cadde. He didn’t have the mind-set to go back to work. Chance and Kid were doing fine without him. He went into town and bought the biggest Christmas tree he could find and placed it in the window where Jessie had wanted it. As he stared at the baby ornament in his hand, his throat closed up and he had to force himself to hang it high on the tree.