Texas Temptation

by Kathryn Brocato

  “Stop. Eve, I said stop.” Strong hands grabbed both of her shoulders, and she looked up in alarm toward his furrowed brow and confused expression. His voice was so much deeper than she’d remembered. “That’s all? You couldn't once respond to me?"

  She struggled to push against him, but he held her in place. His tone was rough. It increased in volume, rising with each word that tumbled out of his mouth.

  “What about the promise I made to you? When you told me that you wanted to marry—”

  “Enough!” Evelyn yanked herself out of his hold and glared. She breathed deeply, as if the extra air would give her the courage she couldn’t truly conjure up. “I remember what you are referring to. I did receive your letters. I thank you for them. But I did not respond to you because whatever we had before I left for school . . .” She gulped. The polite tone of indifference faded. “This has to end.”

  The reaction was immediate. His features crumpled as she stepped back. His jaw went slack, and she saw his hands at his side ball into fists. He looked like someone had just punched him in the gut. Evelyn’s heart broke as she watched him step toward her.

  “Neither of us has any money.”

  “So? We never worried before. We said we’d run away . . .”

  She let out a bitter laugh. “To where? Where would we go?”

  “Anywhere. Away from here.” He edged closer. “You don’t have to listen to your father.”

  “This has nothing to do with him. This is my choice, not his.”

  A pause. “I wish you chose a different one.”

  She wished he wouldn’t say anything further. The longer she listened to him, the more her walls of resolve crumbled. Saving the family ranch came before her personal choices.

  “You are referring to a conversation from a year ago.” She smoothed out her dress, as if wiping away the wrinkles would wipe away the intensity of the conversation. “I may have said certain promises with foolish hope . . .”

  “That wasn’t foolish hope, Eve.” His voice was guttural. She swallowed when she looked away from her skirt to his clenched fists. The muscles in his forearm tightened as he spoke. “We were in love. We are—”

  “Stop. Do not speak of that.” She narrowed her eyes at Jesse. How could he be so inconsiderate? “Four years has changed us. It has changed my perspective.”

  Bitterness marked his tone. “It’s given you amnesia, apparently.”

  If only. Evelyn pressed her lips together. Images of kissing him by the light of the moon in the stable, sketches he made of her behind the house, poems she read to him after they had finished racing horses around the ranch when his hours finished. All the memories threatened to overwhelm her, and she swayed slightly.

  “Know what I think?”

  She bristled, and he didn’t wait for her response.

  “I think you’re scared.”

  Anger flashed through her. Scared? Never. Practical? Definitely. “I am a realist, not a coward. I am giving up on you, Jesse.”

  He remained silent. She wanted him to reply, to say something, anything. Any words seemed better than the heavy silence that fell between them instead.

  She finally looked up. His eyes met hers with a fierce glare. There was no sadness in his expression, only bitter betrayal. His fists had not unclenched. Evelyn believed that if she reached out, her palms would meet the invisible wall suddenly erected between them.

  “We are not possible together, understand?” She struggled to keep her voice even. “I need to marry someone who is more financially secure, Jesse.” She stepped back again, away from the barrier between them. “I understand that I told you differently before, but time has passed. It is better for both of us if we just forget . . .” Her voice lowered. “Forget we ever knew each other at all.”

  He didn’t even slam the door. Jesse shut it with as little sound as possible, the lock barely making a noise as she heard the bolt slide into place.

  She bit her lip. If you didn’t tell him now, you would have to tell him later. You did the right thing. Those unbidden feelings, and her body’s instincts, had been so much easier to suppress when she was away from him. Every muscle inside Evelyn wanted to run forward and slam her hands against the wood until he opened up and she jumped back into his arms.

  Instead, she turned around and walked back toward her home.

  • • •

  The next few weeks blurred together in a torrent of tears and indecision. All the eligible young men in the surrounding area had asked her father for a chance to court her. Her father brought up each one at supper, highlighting their fine qualities and numerous bags of cash to their name. He never mentioned it out loud, but his message was clear: The ranch was no longer his priority, but hers as well.

  But each suitor seemed so weak. None of them would last a day managing a ranch. Everyone pointed to her father’s wealth as a reason for marrying her, and none seemed to show genuine interest in her beyond her physical appearance.

  “If you’re shaking your head because of all the potential beaus you’ve rejected, I am not surprised. You’re wasting your time trying to choose one from that bunch.” Annie Inglewood, her best friend, cast a dismissive gaze in Evelyn’s direction. The redhead sat on a wooden bench next to Evelyn’s vanity, admiring her own reflection in the mirror. “Have you ever considered that maybe you’ll never accept any of the suitors?”

  “Bosh! There are at least ten more I have not met yet.” Still, she wasn’t particularly enthused at the idea of meeting another ten bachelors who were most likely going to be as unappealing as the last six. “I could accept one of them.”

  “None of them is Jesse.”

  Evelyn drew in a quick intake of breath. “I need someone with more financial stability.”

  “Then what’s wrong with the ones you’ve rejected?”

  What was wrong, indeed? A sinking feeling settled in her stomach. “Or I could pursue a career of my own.”

  “I doubt Jesse would ever stop you from doing something you wanted.”

  Jesse this, Jesse that. When would she stop hearing his name everywhere she went in Hamilton?

  Annie rolled her eyes and spun around, fixing Evelyn a critical eye. “Why are you so insistent on being married now, anyway?”

  “The ranch can use all the financial support it can get.” She shifted her weight on the bed, realizing the contradiction between her words and behavior. Then why couldn’t she just tie herself to one of the rich fellows who expressed interest?

  “Have a word with your father. I’m sure he’d listen if you just asked him for more time.”

  Maybe Annie did have a point. Jesse could be out of the question, but maybe her father would postpone her marriage and her list of suitors for a few years. There was no time like the present to find out. Evelyn opened the door and walked down the hallway, toward the study. Annie called out her name, but Evelyn ignored her.

  She stepped inside her father’s room. On one side of the study, the wall was lined with several rows of bookshelves containing dusty tomes ranging in topics from finance to law to agriculture. The sturdy spinning globe she loved so much as a child still rested on a small table in the center of the room. And behind the large oak desk, where papers determining the future of her family’s ranch were strewn, sat her father.

  Thomas Lancaster set down the papers in his hand when he saw her enter the room. Rarely worn glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His forehead was creased with worry, yet he smiled when he saw his eldest. “Evelyn, what is it?”

  “Father, the list of suitors . . .” She mustered up enough courage to step forward. Her father’s large oak desk seemed imposing, but infinitely more intimidating was her father’s expectant expression. “I think we need to talk about who I want to marry.”

  “Well, of course, go ahead.” He gestured his hand outward.

  She paused. “I have been giving some consideration to my marriage and I—”

  Before she could finish, Mr. Lancaster
held his palm up to Evelyn to quiet her for a moment. His gaze shifted to a point behind her. “Come right in, Greenwood.”

  She stood perfectly still as heavy footsteps approached her father’s desk. She had to remind herself to breathe as she sneaked a look out of the corner of her eye at the tall man standing next to her.

  Jesse Greenwood’s expression was firm, the hard lines of his face even more stern than she’d ever seen them. He smelled of fresh morning air, dust from the trails, and a familiar musky scent that was uniquely his. Her body longed to turn her head toward him and bury her face in his shirt and wrap her arms around him—

  No, that was in the past now.

  He nodded to her father. “Just wanted to say goodbye, sir, before I hit the road.”

  Her father smiled at Jesse. Or rather, she knew, he smiled at the lack of interaction he saw between Jesse and Evelyn. “I wish you the best of luck in California, boy. Whenever you want to return to Texas, my ranch is always willing to hire a hand with your skills.”

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t dare look at Jesse. Surely there was some mistake. He couldn’t really leave. Her stomach plummeted.

  He just couldn’t.

  “Loretta’s staying, though. She’s happy here. I’ll send money to her soon as I get settled out West.” He placed his hat on his head and adjusted the rucksack over his shoulder. “Much thanks for the horse you provided me, sir.”

  “It’s the least I can do for your years of service, Greenwood. Best of luck on your journey.”

  She scowled. More like the least he could do to show his appreciation that Jesse was leaving his ranch.

  Jesse nodded again, and then turned to leave. He didn’t even glance in her direction. It was as if she was invisible to him now.

  She heard his footsteps leave the room, felt the air shift as his familiar scent faded, and wanted nothing more than to run after him as fast as she could.

  Instead, she stayed still.

  CHAPTER TWO

  1876

  “I’m never going to find love again!” The redhead wailed into Evelyn’s shoulder, great sobs wracking her chest and fat tears staining her dress. The tear stains had practically formed a new print on one of the cotton shirtsleeves of Evelyn’s dress.

  She patted Annie’s head and frowned. This was the third time her friend cried over Edward this week. “You must be positive, Annie. Just because he did not want to settle down does not mean every other man is the same.”

  “There are no other men in Hamilton I want! I only want him! He’s the only one for me!” Another fresh wail caused Evelyn to sigh. Annie’s behavior was ridiculous, even for her. Edward Beaumont was the town flirt. Everyone gossiped about how he flirted with dozens of girls at a time. How he’d managed to make Annie fall for him, Evelyn would never know.

  “You will be fine. Be rational.”

  Annie shook her head. “You don’t understand. He kept telling me he would ask my father to court me. He promised!”

  “I do not doubt it. But Hamilton is not the entire world.” Evelyn lifted her friend’s head from Evelyn’s shoulder and wiped away one of Annie’s tears. “Dallas is nearby. You have an aunt in the city, right? Live there for a few months. Meet other men.”

  “But you know I cannot go on my own.” Annie shuddered. “Just think of the city filth I would have to deal with. And whose pragmatism will save me from other Edwards? Only you!”

  “You are right on that account.”

  “Exactly! You must come with me.”

  Evelyn nearly snorted. As if she could protect Annie from falling for every man who showed her a smile. She stood up from her friend’s bed and walked toward the doorway.

  Annie rushed forward. She put both of her arms on either side of the door frame, blocking Evelyn’s exit from the room. “Why will you not come with me? We can find husbands together.”

  Husband-hunting? She shook her head. Not even if doing so came with ten free horses. “You know my place is at the ranch. I need to help my father every day. I cannot simply leave for a few weeks.”

  “What are the other cowboys for?” Annie rolled her eyes. Her tears dried at the sudden change of topic, and despair morphed into dismissal. “If we are ever to find husbands, we cannot waste our lives away at a ranch.”

  “Breighton is my family’s ranch, not yours. You do not need to worry yourself about it.” Evelyn ducked underneath Annie’s arm and headed toward the front door. She heard Annie’s footsteps trail after her, but not before Evelyn had already managed to step outside into the fresh Texas air.

  The mid-morning bustle of the burg distracted her from meddling musings of marriage. The large general store across from Annie’s home buzzed with activity as nomadic traders and roaming cowboys came by to pick up supplies. Tattle-tale town residents delighted in discussions of local gossip outside the doors of the post office, sharing secrets over letters that had traveled farther than they ever would. It was too early in the day for the saloon to be active, but still a few locals brushed in and out of the establishment’s doors with a whiskey-influenced walk.

  “Breighton is practically my home, too, you know—I spend so much time there.” Annie glanced toward the seamstress shop next to her house. “Mother knows I’ll eventually take over her dress shop, which doesn’t exactly thrill me. I’ll grow into a spinster before then!”

  Evelyn started toward her horse, her boots clipping against the small pebbles outside of the Inglewoods’ home and shop. “Twenty-two is hardly a spinster. You are even younger than I, Annie. You have time to be married still.”

  She hitched herself onto her horse. “Besides,” she said over her shoulder. “There are more important matters for me to worry about than marriage.”

  Annie sounded incredulous. “What could possibly be more important than marriage?”

  Evelyn shook her head as she rode away, beyond the outskirts of the town of Hamilton and toward the ranch of Breighton. The farther she traveled along the long dirt road, the more the fences fell away from the sides of the path and the more open the land became. Of course, nearly all the green pasture belonged to someone. Only the grassy abandoned acres gave the appearance of being still wild and unclaimed.

  Eventually she recognized the land as her own. She could see the ranch hands watching over the cattle in the distant pastures. The tall red barn grew more visible as she drew farther up the trail. The sun began to set, that beautiful Texas sunset whose fading red rays hit the plains of her father’s ranch as far as the eye could see.

  This. This was more important than marriage.

  She couldn’t sell Breighton. Her eventual husband’s money would pay off the ranch’s expenses. But where was the husband? Maybe she was too picky.

  She bit her lower lip. No use wondering about “maybes.” She couldn’t afford to waste time thinking about marriage.

  She spurred the horse forward as she raced toward home. The wind whipped through her hair as she leaned toward the horse, closing the distance between them to increase her speed. When they passed the first corral post, Evelyn pulled on the reins, drawing her horse into a trot. The road widened as the narrow trail gave way to a large clearing in front of the stables.

  Blue Star trotted to a halt as she approached the clearing. Evelyn grabbed the saddle horn and jumped off, still holding the reins as she guided Blue Star toward one of the waiting ranch hands outside the stables.

  “Thanks, Denny. Do you know where my father is?”

  “Last I saw, Mr. Lancaster was repairing the fences with the others, ma’am.” Denny pointed to the corral where Preston and the other ranch hands were hauling logs near the far end of the fence. She frowned when she noticed her father working with them. What was he doing there? He was in no shape to be doing ranch work.

  She walked over to join them. The doctor had already told her father to take it easy until he felt well again. She pulled up the long sleeves of her dress as she approached the men. “I can help, Father. Just let
me handle this for you.”

  “Get back into the house, Evelyn.” Her father set the hammer down and cleared his throat before standing. Drawing up to his full height, he stood a good half a foot taller than her. “This is no woman’s work. This is—”

  Another set of wracking coughs gripped her father. He clenched his fist and held it toward his ribs, beating against his chest as he gasped for breath through the wheezing. She brought herself underneath her father’s arm to support his weight as he leaned against her. What was he thinking?

  “The doctor told you to rest! You are in no condition to work right now. And we already talked about this.” Evelyn pursed her lips together. She wished her father would stop insisting she didn’t belong working on the ranch. “This ranch is mine as well. I want to help.”

  “No, no, no . . .” Her father finally stopped coughing. He brought her arm down and clucked his tongue. “Someday, you’ll be married and the ranch will be his to take care of.”

  The other ranch hands from behind them stopped working to hear the conversation. Her father turned around and scowled. “What? She’s never going to marry any of you. Get back to work, boys!” Her father waved at the ranch hands to continue fixing the fences. He walked away from the fence, bringing one hand behind Evelyn to guide her away from the repairs. “I know you worry for my health, but I’m as fit as ever.”

  As if on cue, her father’s coughs began anew. This time, however, they didn’t stop. He sounded like he was gasping for breath as they increased in frequency. Evelyn watched him clap his hands to his knees, unable to stand upright.

  “Preston!” Evelyn called out, supporting her father’s weight once again. “Help me get him back to the house.”

  Preston rushed over from the fence and took her father’s other side. His coughs continued, wracking his chest with more intensity with each passing second as they practically pulled him toward the house. When they reached the porch, a maid rushed out to take him indoors.