Malachite (The Jewels of Texas Historical Romance Series Book 5)

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Malachite had the opposite effect. She was frightened of the feelings he’d unlocked in her. A hunger that could never be satisfied. A need that bordered on madness. These were feelings that had no place in the life of a respectable woman.

  And now, instead of dealing with those feelings, she had foolishly, irrevocably sent him away.

  * * *

  In the predawn chill Millie made her way downstairs. The door to Malachite’s room stood open. His bed had been carefully made. On the floor lay his bedroll, still packed. Beside it were his saddlebags, filled with more of his belongings.

  With a heavy heart she noticed that the eggs had already been gathered and the milk bucket was full. When she opened the back door she found Malachite, sleeves rolled, shoulders straining, repairing the back steps.

  “Malachite, why are you doing this?”

  “I’ve noticed this since I first got here. I’ve been meaning to repair it.”

  “But you’ve done too much already.”

  “I didn’t want to leave without seeing to this.”

  When he looked up at her she felt her heart leap to her throat. She’d hoped somehow to change his mind, to convince him that he could remain. But now, seeing the look in his eyes, she knew. He was really leaving. How could she bear not seeing him after today?

  “I’ll start breakfast. You’ll stay and eat with us?”

  He nodded.

  She hurried inside, determined that if this was all she could do for him, it would have to be enough.

  By the time the girls came downstairs. and Malachite entered, the kitchen smelled of coffee and biscuits and sizzling meat.

  Millie paused in her work to watch Malachite washing his hands. At the ripple of muscle, the glitter of water on his dark hair, she felt a dryness in her throat and looked away.

  When the back door opened on a blast of cold air, Birdie rushed in. There was a worried look on her face.

  “My pa’s real sick this morning, Mrs. Potter. Ma said she’ll need my help, so I won’t be going to school today.”

  “I understand.” Millie placed meat, eggs and biscuits on a platter and covered it with a towel. “Take this to your mother, Birdie. I know she won’t have time to cook. Tell her I hope your father is feeling better tomorrow.”

  Birdie took the platter. “Thanks, ma’am. I’ll tell her.” At the door she turned. “I almost forgot. Travis Worthing and the Durfee boys won’t be going to school, either.”

  “Thank you, Birdie. We’ll manage alone.”

  With a nod to Malachite and the girls, Birdie hurried out.

  “Well.” Millie tried to hide the ripple of excitement that shook her. She would be seeing Malachite for a little while longer. At least until they reached the Jewel ranch. “It looks like I’ll be taking you to school today, girls. Come along. Breakfast is ready.”

  While the others ate, Millie packed a hamper with cold meat, cheese, biscuits and honey. She tucked in a canteen of water and another of milk, and for good measure added half a dozen sugar cookies.

  “There’s a bite to the wind today,” Malachite said. “You’ll want to dress warmly.”

  “Could we wear our new winter coats, Mama?” June asked.

  “Do you think it’s necessary?” Millie turned to Malachite.

  He nodded. “You might want to bring along some quilts, too.”

  Millie went in search of them, while the girls cleared the table and washed and dried the dishes.

  When all was in readiness, Malachite stepped from his bedroom with his bedroll and bulging saddlebags.

  “Why are you taking those?” June asked.

  “I won’t be coming back here tonight.”

  “Are you going tracking again?” May asked.

  He nodded.

  The girls seemed to accept his casual response. But Millie found herself wondering what she would say when he never returned and the questions resumed.

  Malachite held out a fist full of money. “I found this lying on my bedroll. I believe it belongs to you.”

  Millie shook her head. “You paid in advance, and that’s the balance I’m returning.”

  He thrust the money into her hand and closed his fingers over hers. “I don’t want to fight about this, Millie. It’s yours. You earned it.”

  Before she could argue, she was interrupted by a little voice.

  “Did you see the new coats Mama bought us?” Little June proudly modeled hers and was quickly joined by May.

  “Well, don’t you look fine.” Malachite smiled.

  “Mr. Durfee only had gray or black. So Mama bought us each a gray coat and said she’d make them look bright with pretty red scarves and mittens.” May glanced lovingly at her mother. “But she hasn’t had time to knit them yet, so we have to wear our old ones.” She pulled a pair of tattered green mittens and a white scarf from a peg by the door.

  “Well, even without the red scarves and mittens, I think you look as pretty as ladybugs.”

  “Ladybugs.” Little June burst into giggles. “How come you said that, Malachite?”

  He tugged on her curls. “Because ladybugs are red. And all of you have pretty red hair, just like ladybugs.”

  “Do you think we’re as pretty as Mama?” May asked.

  He glanced over her head to where her mother stood, wearing a faded black coat and a pale shawl tossed over her shoulders. “I think you are the four most beautiful ladies in Texas.”

  “April, Malachite called us ladies.” May and her sister hooted with laughter.

  But their older sister stood across the room, watching the way her mother and Malachite were looking at each other. The look that passed between them gave her a funny feeling. As if she’d seen it before. A long time ago. Maybe between her mother and father. She wasn’t sure anymore. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Not even of Pa’s face. And that frightened her more than she cared to admit.

  “Come on,” she said, pulling on her new coat. “I want to get to school.”

  Outside the girls climbed into the back of the wagon and snuggled between the quilts that had been spread over a layer of straw. Feather pillows from their beds cushioned their heads. They lay snuggled together, laughing and giggling.

  Malachite tied his horse to the back of the wagon, then climbed to the driver’s seat. Millie sat primly beside him, wishing she could think of something pleasant to talk about. But all she could think about was the fact that this was their last hour together. They would drop the girls at school and continue on to the ranch house. He would leave. And she would go inside and be forced to make idle chatter with Carmelita while her heart slowly shattered.

  “Here we are.” Malachite brought the wagon to a halt and lifted the three girls to the ground, before handing the basket of food to April.

  She and her sisters raced up the steps and turned to wave to their mother. Then the door was opened by Pearl. Beyond the open doorway could be seen Daniel and Gil, holding baby Amber. With a final wave the three girls disappeared inside.

  Malachite flicked the reins and the horse and wagon began the trek to the distant ranch house.

  “About last night,” Millie began. “I’ve been thinking...”

  “So have I.” Malachite’s voice sounded unusually gruff. “I had no right to put you in this position.”

  “But I...”

  “I knew, when I forced you to take me in, that your reputation would be at risk.”

  “You didn’t force...”

  He turned to her. “I was once a Comanche warrior. I was trained to search out an opponent’s weakness and then use it against him. You needed money to survive. And so I offered you enough money that you couldn’t possibly refuse.”

  He saw her react as though she’d been slapped. Her words were clipped, betraying the hurt. “I didn’t realize my lack of money was so apparent.”

  He pulled the wagon to a halt in front of the ranch house. Catching her chin, he forced her to look at him. “Everything about you is there, in yo
ur eyes. Your goodness, your sweetness and all the other feelings you’ve been experiencing since I moved in.”

  She pulled away and stared down at her hands. “It must have been fun watching me squirm.”

  “Is that what you think?” He caught her by the shoulders and held her when she tried to turn away. “Look at me, Millie.” His words were low, commanding. “I said look at me.”

  She lifted troubled eyes to his. And saw something she hadn’t seen before. Tenderness. And then, in the blink of an eye, simmering anger. “I never intended to hurt you. Not your reputation. Not your standing in the community. And certainly not your relationship with April.”

  “April has nothing to do with this.”

  “Doesn’t she? Don’t you see? She can’t help what she is. She’s your firstborn. She’s been through something the other two can’t remember. She lost her father. And now she fears losing her mother, as well.”

  “That’s sill—”

  “Don’t call it silly. She has every right to be worried. I won’t deny that I moved into your home because I wanted you, Millie. And still do. That’s why I have to leave. Because if I succeeded in my plan, your life, and hers, would be forever altered. And I won’t do that to you or to her.”

  “Oh, Malachite.” She couldn’t hide the tears that sprang to her eyes. She blinked furiously to keep them from streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t want you to go. But I know you can’t stay, either. The people of Hanging Tree are good people. But they would soon know that you were more than my boarder. And my daughters would be the ones to pay the price for my sins.”

  He smiled gently. “How I wish you’d committed at least one sin. It would have made the leaving easier.” He brushed his lips over hers, tasting the salt of her tears. “Then again,” he muttered before taking the kiss deeper, “if you had, I’d never be able to leave.”

  She clung to him, pouring all her feelings into this one last kiss.

  When at last they drew apart, they stared at each other for long moments. The torment they were suffering was evident in their eyes.

  He stepped down from the wagon, then held out his arms to her. He lifted her, then lowered her so slowly she could feel him with every part of her body. Her breasts tingled as they came in contact with his chest. Her lower torso felt on fire. And then he settled her on her feet and allowed his hands to linger at her waist for a moment longer. At last he walked to the back of the wagon and untied his horse.

  When he had pulled himself into the saddle, he touched a hand to the brim of his hat. “Goodbye, Millie Potter. May only good spirits be with you on your journey.”

  “And you, Malachite.” She bit hard on her lower lip to stop the quivering.

  As he rode away it took all her willpower to keep from calling out to him. He crested a ridge and turned for a final wave.

  Her shoulders shook as she wept silently. And wished with all her heart that she could have a second chance. But it was too late. He was leaving for good. Now only a miracle would bring him back. And she’d stopped believing in miracles the day Mick died.

  Chapter Eleven

  “You are quiet today.” Carmelita glanced at Millie, who had insisted on mopping the kitchen floor.

  “I just don’t have anything to say.”

  “I see.” All morning the housekeeper had watched in amazement as Millie cleaned, dusted, swept and scrubbed, despite protests that she should be visiting, not working. Besides that, the house was already clean before Millie started. After all, the Jewel family only came together for an occasional supper at the big ranch house. After today it would be sparkling, with no one to admire it.

  Millie had refused Carmelita’s offer of coffee at midmorning. But the housekeeper was determined to see that she stopped for lunch.

  “I have made sliced beef and my special chilies.” Carmelita set two plates on the table and filled two cups with coffee. “Come. You will share with me.”

  Millie pressed a hand to her churning stomach. “I don’t think I could eat a bite, Carmelita.”

  “Then you will sit and watch me eat. Come. Sit.” Carmelita held the chair, and Millie had no choice but to join her.

  She sipped coffee while the housekeeper heaped two plates with thin slices of roast beef swimming in gravy spiced with red and green chilies.

  “Was that Señor Malachite I saw driving your wagon this morning?”

  “Yes.” Millie clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. Carmelita spooned her mixture onto a tortilla and rolled it before starting to eat.

  “He is one handsome man.”

  Millie nodded.

  “Eat,” Carmelita commanded.

  Millie took a bite, chewing woodenly.

  “You two looked like you were discussing something serious.” Carmelita picked up her cup and eyed Millie over the rim.

  Millie forced herself to swallow.

  When she said nothing, the housekeeper busied herself with a second helping. “Señor Malachite reminds me of my Rosario.” She chewed, all the while watching Millie’s eyes. “He is a strong man, a proud man.” She saw a flicker of some emotion. “Did you know that just before we were to be married, we had a terrible fight.”

  “What about?” Millie pushed aside her plate. The food tasted like ashes in her mouth. She couldn’t manage another bite.

  “We came from very different families. Rosario’s father was poor, uneducated. My father was a very wealthy man. He wanted Rosario to work a portion of his land. In return he would build us a fine house so that I could live as I always had, with my family and servants nearby.”

  “And Rosario wanted to be his own man.” Millie reached for her coffee.

  “Sí. What was more, he wanted me to move far away and live among the Texans.”

  “That must have been difficult for you.”

  “Not so difficult. You see, I loved him so much I would have gone anywhere with him.”

  “Then why did you fight?”

  “He wanted to leave me, right after the wedding, and come alone to Texas to make his fortune. He promised to send for me when he had enough money to build me a finer house than my father’s. He was worried that my family and friends would not approve of my choice. And he was willing to leave me rather than risk damaging my reputation.”

  “How could you argue with that?”

  “It was not easy to fight him when I loved him so. But I did. I told him I would go to the ends of the earth with him. But I was not willing to be parted from him for one day after he became my husband. So, unless he took me with him to Texas, the wedding would be canceled.”

  “Weren’t you afraid he might refuse?”

  Carmelita gave her a knowing smile. “It was a risk. After all, he was a proud man. He hated the idea of making me live a life he considered beneath me. And if he should refuse my terms, my reputation would be ruined. Among my people, a woman who has already pledged her love, and then is rejected, is forever tarnished. No respectable man would ask for the hand of such a woman. But I knew if Rosario loved me half as much as I loved him, he could not deny me.”

  “You’re... very lucky, Carmelita.” Millie pushed back her chair and got to her feet.

  “Si. A woman who has the love of a good man is the luckiest woman alive.”

  As Millie made her way to the other room, she mulled over what she’d just heard. All these years later, Carmelita still worked as a housekeeper. And Rosario’s ranch, though it provided them with the necessities of life, was modest by Texas standards. Still, Carmelita beamed whenever she spoke her husband’s name. And he did the same. The love these two people shared was rare and wonderful.

  She’d had that once, briefly, with Mick. It was foolish to believe she had the right to it again. Besides, Malachite hadn’t pledged his love. Or even declared it. She had been right to send him away. She had her reputation to think of. And her daughters.

  When she returned to the kitchen, she found Carmelita vigorously carving a side of beef.


  “Are the Jewels having a party?”

  Carmelita looked up from her work. “This is for Cookie. I offered to help him prepare for a trip to the south range. He and the wranglers will be leaving within the hour.”

  Millie struggled to keep her tone even. “How many are going?”

  Carmelita shrugged. “I don’t know. But you can ask Cookie. Here he comes now.”

  Millie opened the door before the old man had a chance to knock. When he saw her, his face lit up with a smile. He gallantly snatched the hat from his head and removed the pipe from his mouth. “Good day, Mrs. Potter.”

  “Hello, Cookie.” She stood aside until he entered, then closed the door against the blast of cold air.

  “Señora Millie was just asking how many wranglers are going with you,” the housekeeper called from across the room.

  “Half the crew is already up on the north range.” Cookie breathed in the fragrance of roasting meat and spices. “Everybody who’s left will head on up to the south range. That’s where the larger herd is wintering. We’ll need all the hands we can get.”

  “Everybody? Including Malachite?”

  “Yes, ma’am. He said he’d give us a hand with the herd while he keeps an eye out for the mustangs.”

  Millie was beginning to feel as if the Fates were against her. She hoped her disappointment didn’t show. “How long will you be gone?”

  Cookie pinched a slice of beef from the platter and chewed. “Who knows? A couple of weeks. A couple of months. As long as it takes. Onyx used to say that here on his ranch, the safety of his herd was the most important consideration. Only one thing mattered more—Texas weather.”

  “Speaking of weather...” Carmelita glanced out the window as the first fat snowflakes splattered on the pane. “I hope Rosario comes for me soon.”

  “He’s already here. I saw him ride in when I left the bunkhouse. It’s a regular reunion out there by the corral.”

  The old man frowned. “I saw Cal McCabe and Adam Winter talking to Byron Conner. Didn’t look like a friendly conversation, though. So I hightailed it out of there.” Cookie walked to the window and studied the gathering clouds. “I think I’d better have one of the wranglers hitch up your horse and wagon, Mrs. Potter. You’ll want to be heading for home before the storm hits.”