Texas Blonde

by Victoria Thompson

  "You might as well stay till morning," Josh agreed grudgingly, surrendering to the inevitable.

  "And Blanche, you'll stay, too, won't you?" Felicity added, noticing for the first time the odd look on her friend's face. Felicity suddenly realized that Blanche's disappointment went far deeper than having been duped by a clever detective. Blanche had seen all the same things in Asa Gordon that Felicity had, but Blanche had not seen him as an uncle. Blanche had seen him as a man. Instinctively, Felicity knew she had to keep the two of them together somehow. Blanche was angry now, but when she cooled off, she might forgive Asa Gordon. That, Felicity also knew, might be very good indeed.

  Asa stayed for supper, and Felicity seated him at her right hand. The men of the Rocking L accepted him immediately, perhaps because they were all so glad to see Mrs. Logan cheerful once again. At any rate, by the time the meal was over, Felicity had managed to draw out at least a sketchy outline of Asa Gordon's very eventful life.

  If Blanche was impressed, she gave no indication of it. Instead she sat in uncharacteristic silence throughout the meal and retired to her bedroom soon afterward. She took time only to apologize once more to Felicity and Josh for her part in bringing Asa Gordon into their lives.

  Josh was equally as reticent, treating Gordon more like an intruder than a guest, but Felicity bade Gordon a sincerely kind "good night" when he left for the bunkhouse.

  "I'll leave for town early, Mrs. Logan, so I'll have time to get a reply to my telegram before the day is over," he told her.

  "Please tell my grandfather how happy I am to find out about him, and that I hope he's feeling well," she said. "And then come back here to stay the night. I'll want to know what he has to say."

  "I'll bring back any message," he promised, not committing himself further than that. He didn't bother to look to Logan for a confirmation to her invitation, knowing the rancher would not give one.

  Josh listened to the exchange with reluctant admiration. As much as he detested what Gordon had done to them, he had to respect the man. The detective had managed to maintain his dignity in a very difficult situation. Not many men could have so stoically endured a meal with people who so obviously disapproved of him, and fewer still could have stood up under Blanche Delano's contempt, especially not if they were as taken with her as Gordon so obviously was. Still Josh could not help but wish he would never have to see the detective again.

  When the door closed behind Gordon, Felicity turned back to face Josh. "Isn't this wonderful?" she demanded, hugging herself for fear she might burst with happiness. "Just think! I have a family! A real family!"

  "I thought I was your family," Josh remarked, the calmness of his voice giving no indication of the raw emotions churning inside him.

  But Felicity sensed them, and when she focused on his face, she saw the anger and the hurt he was being so careful to hide. "Of course you're my family," she said, hurrying to him. "You're my husband, my very, very closest family." As if to prove that, she slipped her arms around him and held him close, but to her surprise, he did not return the embrace. Instead, he stood ramrod-stiff and unresponsive.

  Josh stared down at the top of her golden head, gritting his teeth against the wave of desire that threatened to drown him. He had wanted her every minute of every day since the first time they had made love, but never more than at this moment. He needed to take her and love her as he had never loved her before, to bury himself in her velvet depths until the two of them became one being. He needed to confirm the newly spoken bond of love between them, but he knew he could not. To do so might put her life in danger, the life he now knew meant more to him than his own.

  Added to the agonizing knowledge that he could not confirm their bond was the suspicion that that bond now lay in grave danger of being broken. Asa Gordon had brought with him a threat, the threat that Felicity might leave Josh the very same way his mother had left all those years ago. What would Felicity do when Maxwell demanded her presence, as Josh knew he would? Was her love for him strong enough to hold her here when he could offer her only half a life? Josh's mother had loved him, but she had left him anyway, unable to resist the temptations her family's money offered.

  Felicity held Josh more tightly, unable to understand his resistance. Beneath her ear she could hear his heart hammering. Beneath her hands she could feel his muscles strain as he held himself in check. "Joshua, I love you," she whispered.

  Her words snapped the slender thread of his control. His arms closed around her with bone-crushing force and his lips found hers in a devouring kiss. Felicity surrendered eagerly, clinging to him with every ounce of her strength. She offered herself to him with complete abandon as her blood turned to liquid fire and warmed places that had been cold for far too long.

  "Love me, Joshua. Please, love me," she breathed against the heated skin of his face. "I'm not afraid."

  But Josh was afraid, afraid of losing her. Which did he fear more, losing her to Maxwell or losing her to death? He could not have said, and in the next moment, it no longer mattered. He had made his choice.

  She was feather-light in his arms. The bedroom was dark and cold, but neither of them felt the chill. Urgent hands stripped away constricting clothing until flesh touched naked flesh. Lips met and explored, teased and tormented, until all distinctions between male and female vanished, and only desire remained. They came together in a fiery burst of need so sudden and all-consuming that Josh thought his soul must have melted into hers. For long minutes after, he simply held her, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance of her body and luxuriating in the silky woman-softness of her skin.

  "Did I hurt you?" he asked at last, his voice still ragged with passion.

  "No," she lied as she lay quivering in the delicious aftermath of release. What did a few bruises matter when he had just shown her how much he loved her? "You could never hurt me," And that was true. Joshua would never knowingly hurt her. Gently, she stroked his love-dampened shoulders, savoring the possessive way he held her, the way his manhood rested inside her, as if he could not bear to be separated from her.

  And then she felt him stirring to life again. "Yes," she whispered, seeking his mouth once more.

  But this time Josh was sane. The raw edge of his desire now blunted, he could think rationally, and every rational cell in his brain was screaming in protest. "No," he said, tearing himself from her embrace. "No, this is crazy," he rasped, fighting the delicate hands that clutched at him. "Do you know how dangerous this is for you?"

  "I told you, I don't care! I'm not afraid!"

  "Well, I am!" he said, rolling to his feet beside the bed and searching frantically for his clothes in the dark. "I'm the one who'll hear your screams, and I'll know I did that to you. I'm the one who'll put your body in a box in the ground, and I'll live for the rest of my life knowing I killed you. I won't do that, damn it, I won't!" he vowed as he furiously jerked on his pants. His hands stilled on the buttons when he heard her crying.

  "Don't! Oh, Lissy, don't cry," he begged.

  But she couldn't seem to help it. Nothing made sense anymore. She had won Joshua's love, but in doing so, she had lost him, too. Death had stolen both her child and her husband from her. Why had she been spared to suffer such misery? Her body shook, but whether from emotion or from the cold she could not have said. Nothing could comfort her except Joshua's warmth, and when he took her in his arms again, she settled against him gratefully. "It just isn't fair!" she sobbed brokenly. "I love you so much."

  "No, it isn't fair," he agreed, tenderly wrapping the bedclothes around her and cradling her against his heart. "But there's nothing we can do about it." After a long time, when she had quieted, he spoke again. His voice was soft but inexorable. "You know what this means, don't you? We can never make love again. You'll have to help me, Lissy. I can't fight you. You saw what happened tonight."

  "But Josh…"

  "Promise me, Lissy," he demanded.

  "But there must be some way!" she insisted. "We'll
find a doctor someplace and… Oh, Joshua! My grandfather!"

  Josh felt the clammy hand of apprehension stroking up his spine. "What about him?" he asked warily.

  "He lives in Philadelphia! They must have wonderful doctors in Philadelphia, even better doctors then they have in Texas!" she exclaimed. Why hadn't she thought of it sooner? It was the solution to everything. "We can go to visit him. I know he's going to invite us, and while we're there… Oh, Joshua, don't you see? This is the best thing that ever happened to us!"

  Chapter Ten

  "He's found her, Uncle Henry," Richard Winthrop said the instant he crossed the threshold into Henry Maxwell's bedroom.

  "Who found whom, boy?" a cross voice inquired from within the shadows of the bed drapes.

  Richard fought down his natural irritation at being called "boy." Uncle Henry always called him that, probably because he knew it irritated him. "Asa Gordon has found your granddaughter," he explained patiently, pinning a satisfied smile to his lips, even though he found the news far from satisfying.

  "He found her? Are you sure?" A blue-veined hand reached out and drew back one of the bed drapes. "Here, tie this back so I can see you," Maxwell commanded. "Tell me all the details."

  "There aren't many details," Richard explained as he struggled with the heavy velvet. "Gordon sent a telegram first thing this morning. It says, 'Have located Felicity Storm. Her father is dead. Please advise.'"

  "Dead? Old Caleb is dead, eh? Well, that changes things, doesn't it?"

  Richard squinted into the shadows of the bed. How long had it been since he had heard this tone in his uncle's voice?

  Why, he almost sounded alive again. For months now, Richard had watched Henry Maxwell gradually deteriorating, day by day, until he had begun to actually believe the old man was dying. Not that Richard cared all that much whether his uncle lived or died, of course, except in how it related to his own personal situation. As long as Henry was alive, Richard was assured of a job in one of Maxwell's enterprises. If he died, Richard would probably inherit a small sum of money, enough to keep him comfortable for the rest of his life.

  Unfortunately, Richard didn't want to drudge away his life at some menial job, and his main goal in life was to be far more than comfortable. He wanted to be rich. Until this morning, Henry Maxwell's only known living relatives were his spinster daughter Isabel, who was long past the age when she might have produced an heir, the nebulous Felicity Storm, and Richard himself. Richard had been hoping Asa Gordon would discover that the girl Felicity was dead, or at least permanently lost. That would have forced Henry to rethink the provisions of his will and would have considerably increased Richard's chances of inheriting a larger portion of the estate, since Henry was bound to understand that poor Isabel would do nothing but squander it.

  Now, of course, the whole picture had changed again. With Felicity found, and with her an orphan no less, Richard could almost see his fortune evaporating right before his very eyes. Henry would want the girl here with him. Unless she proved to be an imbecile with two heads, she would doubtless worm her way into the old man's affections and charm him into leaving her everything.

  "We'll bring her here, of course," Henry was saying. "Tell Gordon to put her on the next train and… No, wait."

  Richard winced. His uncle was thinking. When Henry Maxwell thought, empires crumbled. "She might not want to come," he mused. "No telling what lies her father told her about me. Better if we take a different approach. Tell Gordon she is invited to visit me here at my home. An old man wishes her company to brighten his few remaining days. Are you writing this down?" he demanded impatiently.

  "Uh, yes, Uncle Henry," Richard said, hastily searching his pockets for a notebook. Few remaining days indeed, he thought bitterly. If Gordon had waited another month to locate the girl, that might well have been true. Now, it seemed, the news of Felicity Storm had brought the old man back to life.

  "She would bring me great joy if she would accept my invitation…" Henry dictated. Richard winced again.

  Not only did Henry Maxwell invite them for a visit, he sent his own private railroad car for them. Felicity convinced Blanche to accompany them to the railhead at San Antonio so she could see it before they left. Felicity had also convinced Mr. Gordon to remain as their guest at the ranch during the interim, so the four of them shared the uncomfortable stagecoach ride from Prospect to San Antonio.

  Although she was excited and full of her own thoughts, Felicity could not help but notice the careful way Asa and Blanche were still treating each other. Even a fool could sense the attraction between them, the almost visible spark that flashed whenever necessity forced them to speak to each other. Felicity had taken every opportunity to throw them together, too, insisting that Blanche stay on at the ranch to help her prepare for the trip while they waited for the special car to arrive.

  All her matchmaking efforts had been in vain, though. No matter how loudly Felicity sang Mr. Gordon's praises, no matter that even Joshua had come to like him after being forced to know him, Blanche simply refused to be reconciled to him. For whatever reason, Blanche was determined not to succumb to Mr. Gordon's charms. Or at least, not to let him know that she had.

  As the time for their departure drew near-Mr. Gordon was taking the same train back to Philadelphia-Felicity began to lose hope of ever seeing the two of them get together. It simply wasn't right that two people who were so perfect for each other should deny themselves happiness because of a misunderstanding. Unfortunately, Felicity could not seem to grasp the exact nature of that misunderstanding, so she had little expectation of helping them straighten it out.

  Her frustration over the matter robbed her of some of her joy over the trip. When she occasionally glimpsed a worried frown on Josh's handsome face, she began to wonder whether she should really go to Philadelphia at all.

  She had, in fact, expressed her doubts on the matter to her husband the night before they left the ranch.

  "You don't seem too happy about making this trip," she had said to him. "If you don't think we should go…"

  "Of course we should go," he had insisted, smiling to reassure her. The smile did not quite erase the wariness in his eyes, but he had explained that, too. "And I'm perfectly happy about making the trip. It's just that I'm a little worried about being away from the ranch. Not that there's anything to worry about," he had added hastily. "But I've never been away from the Rocking L for very long. Grady says I'm acting like an old maid about it. Maybe he's right."

  "He is right," Felicity confirmed, showing him her dimple. "Grady can run this place with one hand tied behind him. And we're going to have such fun in Philadelphia. You'll see."

  She watched his face grow somber, and he took her hand gently in both of his. "I'm not going to Philadelphia to have fun, Lissy. I'm going so you can meet your grandfather. I know what it's like not to have any family, and I don't want that for you, not when you have a family who wants to know you."

  Felicity felt the prickle of tears as she savored the fierce determination in his gray eyes. He might not be happy about the trip, but he was genuinely glad for her, glad she had this opportunity. He understood how anxious she was to see her grandfather and how important it was for her to get to him before it was too late.

  "Thank you, Joshua," she whispered, making him smile for real.

  "Don't thank me yet. Wait and see how I do in Philadelphia. I might ruin your whole trip," he teased.

  But she had been certain he wouldn't, and now that their journey had begun, she knew she was right. All the way from Prospect to San Antonio he had exerted himself to keep the conversation going and make sure of the women's comfort. Several times she had been hard-pressed not to throw her arms around him in pure gratitude when he skillfully covered an awkward moment between Blanche and Asa.

  At first she had assumed he was simply making a noble sacrifice for her sake, but she soon realized that pleasing her brought him genuine pleasure in return. She had never imagined that
the love she felt for Joshua could grow more intense, but so it did, with every passing mile. By the time they reached the train depot in San Antonio, she positively adored him.

  Henry Maxwell's private car was everything Felicity had imagined and more. A smiling black man in a trim navy-blue uniform greeted them as they approached the siding where it was sitting. "Hello, Mr. Gordon. It's good to see you again, sir," he called. "And this must be Miss Storm."

  "That's right, Simon, only her name is Mrs. Logan now, and this is her husband, Joshua Logan, and her friend, Mrs. Delano. Folks, this is Simon Duvalier. He will be looking after you on your trip," Asa explained.

  "Pleased to meet you," Simon said, doffing his cap to reveal dark, curly hair liberally streaked with gray. "Mr. Gordon's right. I work for Mr. Maxwell, taking care of his private car, and anything you need, you just ask me. Come on inside. I've got some refreshments waiting for you."

  Felicity had never dreamed that anyone would fix a railroad car up fancier than any house she had ever been in. They entered to discover a parlor paneled in lustrous mahogany and furnished with fashionable pieces upholstered in red velvet and made of the same wood as the walls. On a small, low table in front of the settee, Simon had laid a spread fit for a king. High tea, he called it, served in an ornate silver pot which rested among a lavish display of matching silver accessories, some of which Felicity could not even identify. Accompanying the tea was a tray full of freshly baked pastries that proved to be as delicious as they were beautiful. Another black man who identified himself as Simon's son William appeared and began to load their luggage onto the car.