by Linda Broday
Houston smothered a grin with his hand. If the boy grew much more, he’d have to go through doors sideways. “Don’t wait too long. Not many girls around here.”
Virgil gave a solemn nod. “Pickin’s are a mite slim.”
“I don’t know. They’re around if you look hard enough. I’ve got to get back to Lara,” Houston said. “Make yourselves at home, boys. You’re welcome on the Lone Star anytime.”
Stepping from the office, he heard lowered voices in the room across the hall. One belonged to Stoker. He guessed the other to be Till Boone. He would have kept going, but the next words he overheard held him tight.
“Lara seems to accept the situation,” Till said. “She doesn’t suspect a thing. How about your boy?”
“Our plan worked, Till,” Stoker said. “Houston was madder than a bull culled from the heifers at first, but I saw his face when he got a glimpse of Lara. He’s going to do right by her. I hated having to make him think I’d gambled away our land, but he didn’t leave me much choice. He was wasting away, a shell of who he once was. I couldn’t let him destroy himself.”
“My Lara wouldn’t have agreed either,” Boone said low. “She’s a proud woman, like her mother.”
Hell and be damned!
Stoker had manipulated him like a puppet on a string. Houston had half a mind to barge in on the two meddling matchmakers and wring their necks.
Except the memory of Lara’s horrible scar and a babe’s tiny fingers curling around his stopped him.
Maybe there were worse things to have happen.
Let these two think they’d put one over on Lara and him. But this was the last damn time.
Something deep inside tugged against his heart. No matter how it had happened, he was theirs now and they were his, and he wouldn’t go back on his word for anything.
* * *
Lara glanced up when Houston slipped back into the parlor. It hadn’t taken much to put two and two together after her brothers had gone out right behind her new husband. Her heart warmed that they still felt the need to protect her, even though at twenty-one she was very much the oldest. If not for them, she’d have gone crazy after that horrible night. Despite their age, they’d stepped up, even taken turns helping her care for Gracie after she was born.
But now she had a husband and, except for that slight hesitation when he’d lifted her veil and stared in shock, he seemed to accept her appearance. The anger she’d expected hadn’t shown.
At least not yet. But what would happen when they were alone?
Lara raised her chin. She’d bow down to no man. And no one would ever force her to do anything against her will, ever again. Not even her new husband, the towering Houston Legend, who was probably very accustomed to getting his way.
He strode toward her with confidence, his body radiating strength, and she knew he would have no trouble dealing with men like Yuma Blackstone. And yet something told Lara he would never hurt her. She stilled her rapid heartbeat, the thunder that sent blood pumping through her veins. Her husband appeared ten times the man of any she’d known…except for her father.
But would he truly be kind to her when no one was around? That remained to be seen.
“You getting tired, Lara?” he asked when he reached her side.
She hadn’t realized how much until now, and the starch seemed to go out of her at his question. But then, worry had kept her awake all night. A clock somewhere in the Legend house chimed four o’clock. It was time to see the place that was now her home.
“Yes. And Gracie needs to lie down. The poor thing is exhausted from all the excitement.”
Houston followed her gaze. The seven-month-old had crawled into a corner, curled up, and was sucking her thumb. He walked over and picked her up then sauntered back. Lara’s chest tightened. There was something special about a hard man like Houston gently holding her baby in the crook of one muscular arm.
“Let’s get you both home.” He put an arm around her waist and they moved to the door.
Lara loved the protective weight of his arm as they escaped the white-stone headquarters, the walls that glistened in the afternoon sun. She paused for a moment, staring up at the Texas flag fluttering in the breeze.
She bore a kinship with that flag. Both sometimes got ragged and torn, but somehow they bravely kept flying.
“Are you all right?” Houston asked.
“Just thinking.” She turned and they strolled past the businesses. “I’d heard your family built a small town here, but I thought it had to be a joke.”
Houston chuckled. “No one was pulling your leg. Except for a few items, we have most everything a person needs.”
His deep voice seemed to vibrate through her, and she found it very pleasant.
“I’m sure you’re wondering where our house is,” he said.
“A little,” Lara admitted as they walked down a path.
He pointed to a two-story, whitewashed clapboard straight ahead. She liked the small house. It looked comfortable, but one never knew until they tested the fit.
“No one’s ever lived in it.” His words were clipped.
Embarrassment heated her cheeks as reality hit and she remembered Becky Golden. He’d loved her, and he’d built this house for her.
“I’m sorry, Houston. Today must’ve taken a huge toll on you. I can’t imagine how hard it was. And to be saddled with an utter stranger to boot. For what it’s worth, I begged Papa to find another way.” She struggled to say the right words. “When I was younger, I hated to see signs of spring each year, because my father would line us kids up, hold our noses, and give us each a big dose of castor oil.”
Till and Stoker had done the exact same thing to Houston—forced his mouth wide and shoved a double dose of castor oil down his throat. Then held his nose until he swallowed.
“It wasn’t right forcing you into this, forcing us both.” When he didn’t say anything, Lara’s stomach clenched. She mounted the steps leading to the entrance of the house the two strangers would share. He held the door for her and, with Gracie still nestled asleep in the crook of his arm, he ushered her inside.
The coolness of the downstairs rooms welcomed her as she slowly turned, taking it all in. The small parlor that opened to the right off the entryway had large windows that allowed light to flood in, but it had no furniture save for a sofa.
“I haven’t had time to furnish the house yet,” Houston murmured. “A year ago, I didn’t expect to ever live here. In fact, I tried to set fire to it. Stoker stopped me.” Pain made his voice sound tight.
“Please, don’t apologize. Whatever we have is fine.” She’d vowed he wouldn’t see her as needy and she meant to keep to that.
“All the same, you deserve better.”
“Houston, I didn’t expect you to have everything in place,” she said softly. The urge to rest her hand on his muscle-corded arm was almost more than she could resist. She turned to retrace her steps back into the entryway before she gave in to the impulse.
He followed. “I want to make it plain that this house is yours. Buy whatever you need. Browse through the catalogs in the mercantile and order whatever you see fit. Or we could take a trip to Fort Worth after I return from driving a herd of longhorns north to Dodge City. I probably should’ve mentioned that I’ll leave as soon as possible.”
Her swift whirl was a mistake and sent Lara into the hard wall of Houston’s chest. She stared up into his coffee-colored eyes. Heat crept up the back of her neck as she took a step back from the mass of solid muscle and power.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do…” Unsure of what to say exactly, she left the sentence unfinished. “You surprised me. Isn’t May too late to take cattle north?”
“Probably,” Houston admitted. “If I had a choice, I’d wait until next spring. But I don’t. How do you know about cattle drives? It’s not a subject most wom
en care to discuss.”
Lara smiled. “You’re forgetting I grew up in a man’s household. It’s all my brothers talk about. Virgil and Quaid begged Father to let them join one of the cattle drives going through here, but he wouldn’t relent.”
She wandered across the hall into the dining room and gave a soft cry. The room was bright and cheery, with a curved bay window along the west wall. It would be perfect for catching the sunset in the evenings. The dining table and chairs were of beautiful mahogany and shone in the light. “I love this room,” Lara exclaimed. “It’s perfect.”
“I’m glad you approve.” Houston stood so close behind her she felt his breath ruffling her hair. “It’s the one room I took pains with.”
“Well, you did a wonderful job. Houston, I wasn’t trying to second-guess your decision with the cattle, or tell you what to do.”
“Never thought you were.” He took her shoulder and turned her to face him. “You’re a breath of fresh air. I’m pleased to have you take an interest in ranching and glad I can talk to you.”
Lara searched his gaze and knew he was sincere. “I’m relieved that I didn’t overstep my bounds.”
“I set no boundaries. I always want your opinions. The only reason I would start out now is that we’re already right here on the Red River, so we have a huge advantage. Snow doesn’t generally start flying until December or January. We’ll be back by late September.”
For some reason, the idea of him being gone so long filled her with loss. Maybe it would be good, though. They could adjust to marriage without the pressure of seeing each other every day.
With a nod, she said, “Four months should be plenty of time even if you run into trouble. How soon until you’re ready to leave?”
“Two weeks. That’ll put us at mid-May,” he answered.
Before she could say more, wagons piled high with her belongings pulled to a stop in front of the house, amid the jangling of harnesses.
“They’re here. You hold Angel while I go help,” Houston said.
Angel? The warmth of his voice at the nickname banished some of the coldness from her chest. If he couldn’t find it in his heart to love her, at least he seemed to love the child that had been conceived in a horrific act of violence.
As they transferred the sleeping babe, his hands brushed hers, sending a series of little aftershocks charging through her. Still tingling, Lara watched her husband open the front door and hurry to help her father and brothers unload.
Lara touched the puckered scar ruining her face and her eyes filled with tears.
She wished she was pretty and unsoiled. And that Houston Legend wanted her because he was utterly and hopelessly in love with her.
With a shake of her head, she came down to earth. Such fantasies were useless in the face of harsh reality.
Lara could curse the day Yuma Blackstone had ridden onto their ranch, but she couldn’t change who she was.
Six
Lara stood aside and watched Houston and her family cart in her belongings. Pain swept through her at the sight of the battered, old trunk. Her mother had brought that to Texas in the back of a covered wagon. Knowing what the trunk held sent Lara’s mind tumbling to the night almost a year and a half ago when her life had been very nearly taken from her.
Deep in the very bottom of the trunk, hidden in a corner, was the locket with a broken chain, left that way when Yuma had ripped it from her throat.
The necklace had belonged to her grandmother and she’d loved it once. Yet, she couldn’t bear to look at it now. She lowered her gaze to Gracie asleep in her arms. That a precious life could have come from such an evil monster astounded her. God willing, the child would never learn who her father was.
Houston came through the door with her rocking chair. A smile curved his mouth and melted a bit of the ice gripping her heart. “Do you want me to leave this in the parlor or put it up in your bedroom?”
At the mention of the bedroom, fear shot through her. It must’ve reflected in her face, because Houston murmured low, “You and Angel will have the large room.” He set down the chair and lifted his hand as though to touch her, before letting it fall. “You have nothing to fear from me, Lara. I’ll never enter your sanctuary unless you ask me.”
The surprise announcement wound through her like some kind of trailing vine. She hadn’t expected respect like this from a man who’d been given no way out of their arrangement. Her father and Stoker may as well have marched him to the preacher at gunpoint.
Lara found her voice. “Put it upstairs then. I like to rock her at night.”
“I can always bring it down if you change your mind.”
Gracie stirred and opened her eyes. She gazed at Houston for a moment then smiled shyly, ducking her head into the curve of Lara’s shoulder. It appeared her daughter was already taken with Houston Legend. But then, he did have that effect on the ladies.
“She’s a real beauty.” Houston’s deep voice sent a vibration through Lara and she loved the warm tingle that danced up her spine. “I ’spect I’ll have to beat the suitors away from our door in a few years.”
Without saying more, Houston went upstairs, and Lara’s gaze followed him with amazement. He carried the sturdy rocker with one hand as though it weighed nothing.
She wandered into the dining room and set Gracie on the spotless floor to crawl. Henry quietly joined her.
“Gracie likes it,” he said, grinning. “No shadows here.”
Lara smiled and put her arm around him. “Nope, no shadows, Henry. Only sunlight spilling in the windows.” Ghosts couldn’t follow. She’d left them behind. Maybe she could finally heal and grow strong again with this fresh start and forget the past. Or at least find a way to live with it.
“Don’t get too tired, little brother.” Lara ruffled Henry’s hair. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
The boy nodded. “Yep. I ain’t never gonna let anybody be mean to you again.”
“I know.” But who would stop folks from being mean to him? Waves of sadness rippled over Lara. Henry was unprepared for the cruel things people would say and do. Her mother always said that Henry was a special gift from God and Lara knew that to be true.
When the men came down and announced that they were finished, Henry rose from playing with Gracie and put his arms around Houston. If Houston thought it strange for a fourteen-year-old boy to embrace him, he didn’t let on.
Houston ruffled his hair. “Still thinking of blacking my eye?”
The boy grinned up at him. “My pa said you’re a brother so I gotta be nice.”
“That’s right.” Houston draped an arm across Henry’s shoulders. “Do you remember our secret?”
“Yep. I ain’t never gonna tell that you made your brother Sam kiss a horny toad.”
Houston threw back his head and laughed, even though Lara knew he probably felt far from it.
Lara’s heart swelled, and Houston’s kindness raised him quite a few notches in her estimation. She had nothing to fear from a man who could be kind to Henry, win a smile from shy little Gracie, and give her the biggest bedroom all to herself. Lara gazed over the top of Henry’s head and mouthed, Thank you.
Before she realized it, she was telling her family good-bye. The silence they left behind was deafening. For a moment, Lara wanted to snatch up Gracie and go with them. But her place was with Houston now.
She had a new life to build.
“Would you like to see the upstairs?” he asked. “You can get settled in while I go take care of the stock.”
Lara nodded and picked up Gracie. Houston’s light touch at the small of her back made her feel safe. And cherished. Except she knew the last to be false.
If he would simply tolerate her messing up his life, that would be enough.
They went up the stairs and he drew her through an open door. Like everythin
g below, the bedroom was light and airy, wallpapered in soft green with a pretty scroll design. A lovely quilt covered the bed. It reminded her of her mother and Lara could almost feel warm arms around her. One of the men had set up Gracie’s crib beside it, the rocker that had belonged to her mother nearby. A dressing room stood at one end and her clothes were already hung. He showed her a bathing room and the hot running water amazed her. It was sheer heaven.
“Lara, this door has a lock.” Houston met her eyes. “Use it if you need to. I’ll not have you terrified in your own house. Not of me or of anything.”
She wanted to tell him that she already felt as protected as she’d been in her home with her father, but she couldn’t get the words out. Maybe she could find ways to show her gratitude in the days ahead. And learn to somehow live with Becky Golden’s ghost that filled every corner.
As he turned toward the stairs, she found her voice. “Where will you sleep?” At his raised brow, she felt her face grow hot and added quickly, “Just in case I need you during the night.”
When he opened the door directly across the hall, she smothered a cry at the tiny, sparse room. She couldn’t let him give up everything for her. “You barely have space to turn around.”
“It’ll serve my needs. It has a bed and a washstand.” His voice seemed a little gruff, like he was angry. But Lara didn’t know why. Was it because she was there—a bride he didn’t want? Or maybe she’d reminded him of the bride he had wanted. The one he’d built the house for.
With an aching heart, she watched him stride down the stairs in that confident way of his. After seeing the small space where he would sleep, she expected that he would find excuses not to come home. Or maybe he’d seek out some other woman for the needs she wouldn’t relieve. There were always lonely women on a ranch—widows too.
A mist clouded her vision as she held Gracie tight against her breast. All she’d asked for was a name…and dear God, that summed up exactly what she’d gotten.
* * *
Houston closed the door of the house behind him, not knowing where he was going. He jerked off his hat and ran an impatient hand through this hair. He would’ve gone mad if he hadn’t gotten out of there.
