Texas Gold (Mills & Boon Historical)

by Carolyn Davidson

  Brace stiffened. “Not so’s you could notice, my friend. Faith is important to me, just as she is to you and Lin. If staying here is her choice, then we need to back her up.”

  Nicholas shook his head. “I can’t go along with that one. Max has certain rights in this. I’ll guarantee you one thing. If he knew the circumstances, he’d be on his way to Texas.”

  Faith stood abruptly, her chair falling to the floor behind her. “Well, I’ll be damned if I’ll sit here and be discussed as if I didn’t have a brain in my head. This is my life, my child and my decision to make.” She turned to face her host.

  “Nicholas, you’ve been a good friend to me, but you don’t know josh about my life before I arrived in Texas. I’m not carrying tales about Max, but let me tell you one thing. Before I tell him about this baby, I’ll need to know that I’m number one on his list. Ahead of his business, for one thing, and definitely in first place when it comes to the women in his life.”

  He grinned. “Well, I know a little about men, and I can tell you right now that Max McDowell is head over heels in love with his wife. I don’t need to know anything about your problems in the past. But I’d lay odds that one look at you right now, and he wouldn’t be wasting any time convincing you that you’re the most important thing in the world to him.”

  “Me?” she asked. “Or the fact that I’m carrying his child?”

  “They kinda go hand in hand, don’t you think?”

  “No.” It was firm and final, a single word that spoke her mind. And then she gave in to the urge to elaborate. “The baby is important, but I have to come first. I existed in a beautiful house in Boston with a husband who treated me like a china doll. If he can’t see that I’m a woman, aside from a wife bearing his child, then I don’t want him and he doesn’t deserve me.”

  “Hear! Hear!” Lin’s voice was quiet but Faith appreciated her support. And then her friend circled the table, bent to lift Faith’s chair from the floor and coaxed her with a hug and soft whispers. “Sit down and eat, please, Faith. Katie will be hurt if you don’t praise her efforts.”

  Feeling a bit foolish for venting her anger at Nicholas, Faith nodded. “I’m hungry. Even Nicholas’s disapproval can’t make me lose my appetite tonight.” She cast him a final look of challenge and settled in her chair.

  “Don’t stay mad at me, will you?” he asked in a low murmur. “I don’t want to be in Lin’s bad graces.”

  Faith managed a small smile. “You might as well know that even without your influence, I’m planning on returning to Max. I’ve been thinking about it for the past month, and I’ve dithered back and forth long enough. I’ve yet to decide just how to go about telling him about the baby.”

  “You’re going back?” Lin asked, catching the gist of Faith’s speech. “You’ve already decided? And here I’ve been so careful not to try to persuade you.”

  Nicholas was silent, but Faith felt his approval in the slanting glance he offered. He reached to lift the lid on a serving dish, caught a scent of the pot roast it held and sighed. “Ah, Katie, you never fail to delight me.”

  The housekeeper slid into a chair across the table from Faith and shot Nicholas a wry look. “You make my life worthwhile, sir,” she said with a touch of acerbic wit.

  “Can we pray first and talk about stuff later?” Amanda spoke up distinctly, her small face decorated by a frown of obvious displeasure. “Suppertime is for eating food, and Katie always says we should eat while it’s hot.”

  Faith smothered a laugh as the child registered her disdain of the grown-ups and their verbal dispute. “I agree, Amanda,” she said lightly. “It would be a shame to ruin Katie’s pot roast.”

  Nicholas smiled, his benevolence toward the little girl apparent, and then bowed his head as he spoke simple words of blessing.

  “Well,” he said to Faith a moment later, serving a portion of meat to Amanda’s plate, “if you wait much longer, you won’t have to make any announcement when you get to Boston. I think Max will be able to figure out the lay of the land all by himself.”

  “I’m not…” Faith looked down at herself, then blushed furiously. “I don’t think it’s apparent yet.”

  “What are you talking about, Auntie Faith?” Amanda asked as she held out her plate for a serving of potatoes.

  “Nothing you need to worry about, sweet,” Lin said hastily, rolling her eyes at Faith as she pacified the child with an elaborate procedure, making a volcano out of her mashed potatoes and filling the center of it with gravy.

  Brace had seated himself next to Amanda and now he looked across the table and spoke quietly to Faith. “When do you plan on leaving?”

  “Probably within the next two weeks,” she said, splitting a biscuit and buttering it lavishly. “I only need to get rid of the chickens, find a home for Wolf and make arrangements to ship my mare.”

  “You’ll take Goldie with you?” Nicholas asked.

  Faith glared at him. “Did you think I’d leave her here for you? I’m sure there are livery stables enough in Boston to give me a choice as to where I’ll put her. If I have to I’ll pay for her keep until Max figures something else out.”

  “I’ll be happy to take the dog off your hands,” Lin said. “He’s good-natured, and Amanda’s cat needs a challenge.”

  Katie spoke up abruptly. “If you’re giving away chickens, I’ll be first in line.” She looked at Nicholas. “Can you see to having a place for them within the next little while?”

  His nod was quick, and then he spoke quietly in an aside to Faith. “Will you move back in with him?”

  “No.” It was pure and simple, Faith had decided. If Max wanted her back, he’d have to come to terms with her. And the major stipulation would involve his mother’s absence from their household.

  “Are you going to let him know you’re on the way?” Brace asked. “And I guess my next question is do you need someone to travel with you?”

  Faith shook her head. “I got here alone. I can go back by myself.”

  It turned out not to be quite as simple as she’d thought. Shipping the mare was a major accomplishment. Goldie was not accustomed to being held captive in a dark, rumbling railroad car and she was unhappy with the whole thing. From her first tentative steps up the ramp into the car to the jolting of the floor beneath her as the train set off from the station, she rolled her eyes and whinnied shrilly.

  Only the fact that Faith stood at her head, holding tightly to the halter and speaking in a low, quiet voice seemed to convince the horse that all would be well. Faith reluctantly left her when the train rolled into Dallas, and took her seat in a Pullman car. She would travel in greater luxury this time, she’d decided. Taking funds from the bank, she’d purchased a berth for sleeping, and ate her meals in the dining car.

  Arrangements for her money to be transferred to a bank in Boston after her arrival were made, and the manager of Benning’s small bank wished her well as she tucked a small bankroll into her reticule upon leaving his establishment.

  She’d packed only the clothing Max had bought for her, leaving behind her old dresses and the flour sack nightgown that was fit only for dust rags. Feeling luxurious in her wool cloak, she spread it around her, glorying in its elegance. Then, as the swiftly moving rail car warmed up from the press of passengers, she removed the wrap and folded it neatly.

  That she was nervous was an understatement, she thought, envisioning her forthcoming meeting with Max. He would be surprised, she was certain. He probably wouldn’t be too forthcoming, waiting to see how the wind blew. Max had been thwarted in his desire to haul her home with him. He’d likely make her eat a small portion of crow before he made her welcome.

  But then, you never knew about Max. He’d changed in the months spent in Texas. Perhaps he’d be more approachable, more willing to bend.

  Boston might have made him revert to the starchy businessman she’d married. He’d been somewhat of a stuffed shirt in the old days, she remembered. The man who had depa
rted from Benning in August bore little resemblance to the husband she’d left more than three long years ago. And at the thought of his tall, masculine figure, she felt a warming within, like a fire that had been banked for the night and only required a bit of kindling to set it glowing afresh come morning.

  She closed her eyes and he was there in her memories. Dark hair rumpled a bit in the morning before he had a chance to tame it into order. Hands that could control a stubborn horse or persuade an ornery woman to his purpose. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, and the flare of desire that rose up in her surprised her with its intensity.

  Pregnancy probably had something to do with it, she thought. Lin said Nicholas had enjoyed her response to him all during the time she carried Jonathan. Faith would take care to hold her emotions at bay.

  Now, she decided, was the time to rehearse the words that would apprise Max of her intentions, set the stage for their future. I’ve come back. No, that was too abrupt and simple. Maybe she should give him notice that she would not move back in the house with him. I thought I’d take a hotel room while we sort out our differences.

  She smiled as she imagined Max’s face should she spout those words. He’d react like a bull with a red flag. Maybe just a simple phrase—You’re going to be a father. That would certainly seal her fate. Max would have her tucked away in cotton batting before she could change her mind.

  Boston was chilly when she arrived, with a fine mist falling from the sky, and Faith rued the lack of an umbrella. No matter. Her cloak boasted a generous hood, and she pulled it up over her hair as she paced the length of the train platform toward the car where her mare waited.

  A gentleman from the same livery stable where Max kept his mount met the train and walked beside her, pacing himself to her shorter stride. “We’ll take good care of your lady, Mrs. McDowell,” he said, his eyes admiring as he bent to peer beneath the folds of her hood.

  Accepting the money she handed him, he approached the mare, whose disposition had not improved upon departing the car. And then she caught Faith’s scent and whickered, tossing her head as her mistress reached for her halter. In moments, Faith had calmed the animal and she walked beside the livery owner as he led Goldie to where his own horse waited.

  “Can I get you a carriage?” he asked, frowning as if he hesitated leaving her on the busy street.

  “No, I can take care of it. I’ll need to make arrangements to have my baggage stored here until I send for it.” Somehow the idea of showing up in Max’s business office surrounded by a small trunk and her bundles didn’t appeal to her. She spoke to an officious gentleman at the information desk and filled out papers for stowing her belongings, then stepped back out into the busy street outside the railway station.

  Max’s office building was tall—five stories—with his own suite on the top floor. She’d stood at the wide windows more than once, looking out on the bustling city, across to the waterfront where ships were docked, disgorging their contents in what seemed to be a never-ending stream.

  Now she looked up at the building facade and drew in a deep breath. He might be in conference, up there in that luxurious office where an opulent carpet lay before his desk. Perhaps he would make her stand before him and state her case. She shook her head. No, more likely he would stand and greet her nicely, his Boston persona firmly back in place.

  The elevator carried her upward and she noted the unfamiliar feel of weightlessness as it rose. Her stomach was already churning, and she swallowed desperately, lest she embarrass herself.

  The dignified man who served as Max’s secretary stood guard outside the wide door that led to the offices of Max and his brother. Her brother-in-law, Howard, was a cheerful man, given to kindliness, and as Faith approached the secretary, she decided it would have been easier to speak to that friendly face today than to confront Max on his home ground.

  “Yes?” The secretary—Jerome Waters, according to the name plate on his desk—looked up at Faith and smiled politely. His was a new face, and Faith obligingly asked to see Maxwell McDowell, please.

  “Have you an appointment?” he asked, and at the simple, negative movement of her head, he drew in his mouth and glanced down at the ledger before him. “I fear Mr. McDowell is quite busy this afternoon. Can I suggest you come back another time?”

  Faith shook her head again. Her throat had dried up somehow, and the words she strove to speak failed her.

  The secretary looked indignant. “Ma’am, surely you understand that Mr. McDowell is a very busy man.” And then they were both stunned as one of the wide doors opened and Max himself stood on the threshold.

  “I need to see my brother, Jerome. Round him up for me, would—” His voice broke off and his face froze; for a moment the frown he wore seemed to have taken up permanent residence on those carved features.

  “Faith.” It was an exhalation of breath, a single syllable spoken on a gush of air. And then he moved rapidly, crossing to where she stood, his hands grasping her shoulders as if he couldn’t decide whether to clasp her to himself or shake the living daylights out of her. His fingers eased their hold and he glanced at his secretary, then back down at her sober countenance.

  “Come inside,” he said quietly, and then to his secretary, “I don’t want to be disturbed, Jerome.”

  “Shall I find your brother?” the man asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

  “No.” There was no mistaking the firmness of his reply as Max ushered her rapidly through the doorway and then closed the door behind them. “This way,” he said, leading her to another door, one she knew led to his private office. Another room held Howard’s desk, but for Max, nothing would do but the corner room, which had been his father’s before his death. Now it belonged to the eldest son, and perhaps someday it would belong to the child she carried, Faith thought.

  For the first time, she allocated the babe within her a gender, and thought of the tiny life she sheltered in the depths of her body as another human being. The fact brought a rush of heat to her face, as if she’d been overwhelmed by an open oven door on a hot summer day, and she faltered, reaching to touch the back of an overstuffed chair to balance herself, lest she fall.

  “Faith? Are you all right?” Max asked, turning her to face him. “How did you get here? When did you arrive? Why have you come without letting me know? I would have met your train.”

  He was floundering, completely flummoxed by her arrival, she decided, and his surprise gave her an edge. And then he was silent and stepped back to lean indolently against the edge of the desk.

  “Or are you here to tie up matters between us?” he asked. She thought there was a trace of fear in the dark depths of his gaze. But surely not. Max was fearless. A warrior, Lin had called him.

  “Tie up matters?” She repeated his words and shook her head. Her voice hadn’t improved any, she noticed, and perhaps he did, too, for he stood upright suddenly, turned and reached for a pitcher of water on a table. Pouring out a good measure into a glass, he kept his eyes on her, as if he thought she might vanish if he should avert his gaze.

  “Drink this,” he said. “You look as if you’re about to faint.” And then as she swallowed obediently, he searched her face. “You seem different. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s something about you…”

  She handed him back the glass and motioned to the chair. “May I sit down, please?”

  “Yes. Yes, of course,” he said, taking her arm. And then, in a rapid move that took her breath, he groaned and swept her against himself.

  “Faith—I can’t believe you’re here.” His words were spoken against her hair as he swept her hood back and buried his face in the coronet of braids she wore on top of her head. He inhaled deeply as if he savored her scent, and she closed her eyes.

  It was all right. He was happy to see her.

  “Here. Sit down, sweetheart. You must be tired from traveling.” His hand on her arm, he eased her to the chair and then stood before her. “Are you h
ungry?”

  “No, I ate lunch on the train. I’m fine, Max.”

  He backed to the desk and leaned against it again, his hip resting on the edge. “I don’t know what to say. I was making arrangement to come back to Texas next week. I told Howard he was going to be on his own until the end of the year. I didn’t know how long it would take to persuade you to change your mind, but I’d determined to bring you home with me, no matter what I had to do to accomplish it.”

  “Well,” she said lightly, “I’ve saved you the trouble.”

  His eyes searched her face and he seemed to be searching for words. Crossing his arms across his chest, he asked the question she’d expected. “Why have you come back, Faith? What made you change your mind and return to me?”

  The answer was simple, and it rolled from her tongue with ease. She’d thought of this moment, and knew she must make this final concession to him, knew that she owed him this much. “I was the one who left, Max. I had to be the one to return of my own volition. I didn’t want you to talk me into anything. It had to be my own action, and I knew the time was now.”

  She spread her hands wide and offered him a glimpse of the ring she wore. “It was time to admit my cowardice at leaving, time to accept the blame for my wrongdoing when I walked away. It was time to make things right between us.”

  “You weren’t the one at fault,” he began, but she lifted a hand to halt his words.

  “We can talk about all of that later on.” And then she spoke the words she’d decided would tilt his world. “I’m going to check into a hotel this afternoon.”

  “Like hell.” Bold and chilling, the words reverberated in her ears. “My wife will not be staying in a hotel, Faith.”

  She stood quickly, alarmed, yet somehow pleased at the intensity of his denial. “I won’t stay in your family home, Max.” She was gratified at the even tenor of her voice.

  He eyed her briefly, and she thought a smile touched one side of his mouth as he replied, his words quiet and too acquiescent to be believed. “All right.” He nodded. “That suits me.” His jaw was firm, his eyes dark and searching as he scanned her and abruptly changed the subject. “Have you lost weight?” he asked sharply. “Your cheekbones look hollow. You didn’t need to get any thinner.”