Still, for reasons she didn't understand, she smiled at him. He would probably interpret it as a welcome, which it was in a way. Besides, it was always a pleasure to look at him.
What was wrong with her? She had seen what that kind of thinking had done to her mother. But she wasn't in danger of falling in love with Owen. Neither was she in the habit of denying the truth. He was handsome. It was a pleasure to look at him, but it was the same kind of pleasure she got from looking at a pretty dress or a beautiful sunset or a handsome horse. There was nothing emotional about it.
"What are you doing here?" William demanded when Owen rode up.
"Tom promised to show me the ranch."
Hetta didn't know what to make of that, but she didn't trust Owen. He might seem to be amiably aimless, but she knew better.
"I know why Tom and I are here," Owen said. "What about you two?"
Hetta didn't feel she owed him an explanation, but she wanted him to know that diViere had lived up to his promise.
"Mr. diViere paid me for the use of my ranch. Tom and William have given me their opinions about rebuilding my house. You might as well give me yours."
Owen dismounted, walked over to the house, looked at it for about ten seconds before he turned and said, "Burn the rest of it and start over again."
That was just the kind of remark she'd expected him to make, but there was one important difference. He hadn't said she shouldn't rebuild.
"Do you think it's okay for me to live here?"
"Why not? It's your place."
"It's not safe for her to be out here by herself," William said.
"She won't be living out here by herself after you marry her," Owen said.
Hetta found herself wishing she had come alone. Owen was supporting her, but he was also embarrassing her.
"You don't think it would be too dangerous for me to live out here?" she asked him.
"Nobody's going to bother a lady like you."
Okay, that was laying it on a bit thick, but she didn't mind. "You don't think it's improper?"
"You ought to find out who's saying stuff like that," Owen said to William. "You've got to defend your future wife."
"This has nothing to do with whom I marry," Hetta said.
"Once a man puts his brand on a woman, he can't let anybody impugn her virtue," Owen said.
Hetta unclenched her fingers from the fist she longed to plant right in the middle of Owen's mouth. He'd said brand because he knew it would rile her. That was how her father had felt.
"I'm asking for myself," Hetta said, forcing herself to speak calmly, "without consideration of a husband, fiance, or even a male relative."
"If you want to live here, I don't see why you shouldn't."
"Since I'm not going to burn down the rest of the house, how do you suggest I rebuild?"
"Ask your fiance," Owen said. "I'll help when it comes to buying breeding stock."
She was going to kill him. If he called William her fiance once more, she was going to take his gun and shoot him dead.
"Thank you. Since you have nothing helpful to say, you can go back to town."
"I came out to look at the ranch."
"I'm not selling."
"I know, but I want to look at it anyway."
She bit her lip to keep from responding. He was taunting her, testing her, plaguing her, and she didn't know why, out of all the women in Texas, he had to choose her.
"What did William say about the house?" Owen asked.
"Tell him," Hetta said to William.
She was only half listening until she realized Owen knew a lot about building a house. He not only disagreed with William about how much of the old structure could be saved, but also brought William around to his point of view.
"How do you know so much?" Hetta asked Owen.
"One of the men I worked with is an engineer."
She was beginning to suspect this group of people Owen had worked with. It seemed to contain every kind of expert one might need.
"You don't want to keep any damaged wood," Owen said, drawing her a little away from William and Manly.
"I can't afford a lot." There were few trees in their part of Texas. Wood for building houses had to be carted in at great expense.
"Then rebuild only what you can afford." He glanced toward William. "Your husband can pay for the rest after you get married."
Hetta looked daggers at him. "We'll live in what I can afford to build."
"You'll need more than that for all his children," Owen said. "I'm sure he'll father a dozen."
"He may, but I won't be the mother of all of them." Why did she let Owen goad her into making such crazy statements? "Do you think you can stop provoking me long enough to tell me what I need?"
"If you'll stop provoking me. This is such a waste. You're worth more."
"I'm content with the value," she said.
"Liar."
He said the word softly, but the impact on her was explosive. How dare he make such an accusation! He had no right to say such a thing. He didn't even have the right to think it. He wasn't her friend.
"You have no right--"
"I know, but you're still lying to yourself."
She wouldn't listen to him. From the first moment she'd met him, he'd done nothing but attempt to seduce her with his smile and charm. She didn't know why she even spoke to him.
Yes, she did. In spite of everything, she liked him. She didn't quite understand that, since they were always arguing, but it was true. Maybe that was the stock in trade of all philanderers. Even though you knew they were leading you into hell, you couldn't help enjoying the trip.
But even as she stewed in her indignation, a corner of her heart turned cold with the fear that she could never love William enough to marry him, that she'd just talked herself into liking him because she wanted it to be true, that maybe she couldn't love any man even if she wanted. She was flattered to have a man show a romantic interest in her, but had her desire for a solid and dependable husband caused her to confuse appreciation with love?
"I'm sorry you have so little faith in me--"
"It has nothing to do with faith. I deal in facts. And Ida's a fact you'd better face before you lose your insipid fiance."
"I've told you over and over that William is not my fiance. Besides, what could Ida possibly have to do with--"
Owen took her by the shoulders and spun her around. She saw a buggy coming down the track. Ida was driving.
Chapter Eleven
Hetta refused to acknowledge Owen's cynical smile when William hurried over to help Ida down. He was distrustful of everyone else because that's the kind of person he was. She smiled and walked over to greet Ida.
"Whatever possessed you to drive all the way out here? I'm surprised you didn't get lost."
"I did, twice," Ida said, managing to look and sound helpless and irate at the same time. "I'd still be wandering around if some child hadn't pointed me in the right direction."
"You shouldn't have driven out alone," William said. "There are bandits and rustlers running loose."
"Yet your fiancee plans to live out here," Owen pointed out.
"That was my decision," Hetta said, unable to stop herself from elbowing Owen in the ribs.
"You wouldn't be living out here alone if you were my fiancee," Owen said.
"We won't find out, will we?" she said with all the sweet insincerity she could muster.
"I thought you weren't telling anyone until William spoke to his parents," Ida said.
"Owen is just trying to see how much trouble he can cause."
"What's he doing here?"
"Helping me figure out what I need to rebuild my house."
"I'm sure his offer was well meant." Ida's expression said just the opposite.
"He knows as much as I do about building," William said.
Ida didn't appear to like having William disarm the barb she'd aimed at Owen. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but William's father has taken ill
, and his mother needs him immediately."
"What's the matter with Pa?" William asked. He was an only child and close to his parents.
"Something about his stomach"--she waved her hands in a helpless kind of way--"I never was good with medicine."
"I can't leave Hetta."
"She'll come with us," Ida said. "Mr. Wheeler can give her his estimates this evening."
"I'll see that Miss Gwynne gets back to town safely," Owen said.
"I'd rather depend on Tom," William said.
Manly had retreated to the shade of a cottonwood to smoke a very thin cigar.
"She's coming back with us," Ida said.
Hetta was angry at the elder Mr. Tidwell for getting sick, at Mrs. Tidwell for being so demanding, at Ida for her clumsy attempts to throw her together with William and protect her from Owen, at Owen for just being Owen, and at herself for caring. "I don't need anybody to babysit me. Go with Ida," she said to William. "Owen can help me finish figuring up the lumber. I'll let you check over the figures. Tom Manly can see me safely back to town."
"I can't leave you alone with two unmarried men," Ida wailed.
"I was alone with three before you arrived."
"But William was here."
"There's no danger to me or my reputation," Hetta said to William. "Go to your mother."
William hesitated. "Are you sure you won't come back with us?"
"I'd only have to come out again. I'll be fine. I'm sure your mother will feel much better once she has you by her side."
"She has nobody but me and Pa."
I have no one at all, but I'm expected to carry on as though nothing was wrong. That was a selfish thought, and she was glad she hadn't said it aloud, but it was the way she felt.
William left with Ida, and Hetta turned back to Owen. "We'd better hurry up if Tom's going to show you around."
"I'm not letting you drive back to town alone," Owen said.
"Tom can ride with me."
"Particularly not with Tom."
Manly still lounged against the trunk of the cottonwood, but he was listening to their conversation.
"Do you remember when I said Laveau was a thief and a traitor?" Owen asked.
"I refuse to listen to--"
"He's a rustler, too. That's why I came to Pinto Junction. I followed his trail here. He's rustling cows up north, bringing them down here, and using your ranch as a holding area."
His accusations almost took her breath away.
"I don't for one minute believe--"
Owen whirled, his gun appearing in his hand with a suddenness that stunned Hetta. Tom was standing away from the cottonwood, his hand reaching for his gun.
"I'd drop my hand to my side if I were you," Owen said.
"I don't like you accusing Mr. diViere of stealing."
"I don't like that he's stealing," Owen said. "Why don't you work with me to put a stop to it?"
"I'm not working with you on anything."
"Is that why you don't want me to see the ranch?"
"You can see anything you want, but I ain't going to show you nothing."
Tom walked over to his horse, mounted up, and rode away without a word.
"I hope you're satisfied," Hetta said.
"I am, actually. Ida hauled off weak-willed William and I drove off mendacious Manly. I've protected the fair maiden from the dragons for another day."
"You're crazy, you know that?"
"You'll thank me when Laveau and Manly are exposed as rustlers."
"Tom can't be. It would be insanity to hold steers rustled from my neighbors on my ranch."
"I imagine those particular herds are taken to another staging point. Laveau is smarter than I gave him credit for."
"You never give up, do you?"
"Twenty-five people died because of his treason, including a girl so innocent she didn't know I was flirting with her. She was running back to her house, laughing because she was happy, when some son of a bitch shot her in the back. My cousin dragged me away, or I'd have attacked the soldiers with my bare hands. Laveau is responsible for that girl's death. And so am I."
Hetta had wondered what drove him so hard, but she'd never imagined it was anything so terrible.
"Do you know what she wanted me to tell her? Not that she was beautiful or her eyes reminded me of stars. She'd never seen a really pretty dress. She wanted to know what one was like. I killed her because I couldn't pass a pretty woman without trying to attract her attention."
"You shouldn't blame yourself for--"
He grabbed her shoulders so hard it was painful. "She wouldn't have left her house if it hadn't been for me. There's nobody I can blame except myself." He released her abruptly and backed away. "And Laveau," he added in a much softer voice. "I blame Laveau."
He turned and walked away with an angry, ground-swallowing stride. He stopped when he reached what was left of the old corral.
Finally she believed what he said about Laveau. The agony in his face and eyes couldn't be faked. Whatever else might be the truth, a girl had died, and Owen held himself and Laveau responsible.
Maybe he had coaxed the girl to go with him to the orchard, but even an innocent female could tell Owen was a flirt. The way his eyes lit up when he saw a woman, the smile that curved his lips, his insouciant attitude were there for everyone to see. Whatever his sins, he didn't hide them. He was honest, at least.
Except when he said he might like her for herself.
Still, maybe he did like her. His only friends in town were a broken-down cowboy and a crippled ex-soldier. Maybe he just wanted somebody to talk to, somebody he could be himself with. She often felt that way herself. Despite her friendship with Ida and her relationship with William, she never felt that she could be entirely herself with them. They expected something of her.
Owen didn't.
She wanted to put her hand on his shoulder and comfort him, but she knew men didn't like women to see their weaknesses. If only they knew women would like them better for knowing they were human, but men had this image they had to maintain. They had to prove that nothing could touch them, that they could survive anything life threw at them.
She wondered if Owen ever got tired of being strong. Did he ever want to bend his head, drop the sword, let someone else step forward to slay the dragon? She wondered where he had heard about dragons.
Owen turned and started back toward her. She didn't know whether to pretend to be looking at the house or to turn away. In the end she simply stood there, watching.
"We'd better finish up. I imagine you want to get back to town." He had himself under control now.
Thirty minutes later she said, "I have all I need to know. I've got to find somebody to do the work before I do anything else."
"Do you know anybody?" he asked as he walked with her to her buggy.
"I'll ask William."
"I wouldn't depend on him to answer more than a few questions before Ida comes to fetch him for his mama or papa."
She whirled on him. "I see nothing wrong with his attachment to his parents. I'd have been much happier if my parents had loved me as much."
"I was talking about his willingness to turn his back on his fiancee every time someone beckons."
"If you don't stop calling me that, I'm going to do something violent."
"I thought you wanted to be his fiancee."
"I do, but I don't want you talking about it all the time."
"Why do you want to marry such a spineless worm?"
She had to clench her teeth to keep from screaming at him. "From now on, don't talk to me about William. Don't even mention his name."
He held out his hand to help her into the buggy. It would have been pointless for her to attempt to refuse.
"Look at anything on the ranch you want, but I'm not selling." She picked up the reins.
"I'm riding back to town, too."
"I'm perfectly capable of driving myself." She snapped the reins and clucked to the horse. "I'
ll see you at dinner."
She should have known it wouldn't be that easy to get rid of him. In less than a minute he was alongside her buggy.
"It would be a lot easier to talk if I were riding in the buggy with you."
"I don't want to talk to you."
"Of course you do. I'm a handsome flirt, remember? All women like to talk to men like me."
"Not me. I like boring clods."
"I'm trying to break you of the habit."
"Why? So you can take his place?"
She couldn't believe she'd said anything so ridiculous.
"I don't think you love him," Owen said. "I'm just trying to make you face the truth."
"Why? So I can live alone for the rest of my life? What's so terrible about marrying a man you don't love? Most men and women settle for something far short of the ideal. What's wrong with respect, companionship, trust?"
"There ought to be passion between a man and a woman. If not, they might as well remain single."
"A man can go anywhere he wants, do anything he wants, become anything he wants. If a woman wants to be respectable, she has to stay where she was born and live with family or work as a servant. You can't blame a woman if she decides to settle for something short of the man of her dreams."
"You're too good to settle for less."
"Why do you care whom I marry?"
"I don't. I just don't want it to be William."
Did he believe she had a great number of choices? Even in a city, she imagined a woman met only a few men she might marry. In a place like Pinto Junction, she was lucky to find even one. It was only the greatest luck when that candidate preferred her as well.
"You'll be gone soon, so what I do won't matter. I doubt you'll remember us for more than a day or two."
"I may stay."
"And do what, settle down and get married?"
"I might."
"Men like you never settle down. It's not in your blood. You can't resist trying to make every woman you meet fall in love with you."
"You don't really know what I'm like."
"Maybe not, but there's no point in trying to find out."
Texas Bride Page 11
