The Heart of a Texas Cowboy

by Linda Broday

  Houston would have died without that strange twist of fate, and Yuma’s personal need to kill him. “We can add horse thievery to Yuma’s list of crimes. I hate like hell to lose that palomino. He was a good piece of horseflesh.”

  “With luck we’ll get the gelding back.” Clay rested his arm on the pommel. “We haven’t seen the last of them.”

  “Pass the word along to keep on alert. Just because my brothers stayed behind is no reason to let down our guard. Yuma and his group have shown how slippery they are.” Houston uncorked his canteen and took a swig of water.

  “Already told the men, boss.”

  “Damn, Clay, have you taken to reading minds in addition to your other chores?” Houston couldn’t have chosen a better man.

  Clay laughed. “Not hardly. Just using plain ol’ horse sense.”

  Houston chuckled. “I’m struck by the ones who don’t even have people sense. By the way, did you and Luke get your problem straightened out?”

  “We never had a problem.”

  “My mistake.” Houston studied the weathered face but saw nothing.

  “I need to keep moving, boss,” Clay said. “Don’t want the men to let the cattle slow.”

  With a nod, Houston turned and watched him ride toward the back. He couldn’t figure the man out but he knew Clay Angelo had something to hide. He’d dismissed it before, but now he wondered. What were his secrets, dammit? One bit of comfort was that Luke knew something. And if he thought Houston needed the information, he’d tell him.

  He rode close to some brush beside the trail and something glittery caught his eye. He dismounted for a closer look.

  It turned out to be a small mirror that had probably fallen from someone’s wagon. Picking it up, he dusted it off. Though Lara hadn’t mentioned wanting one, a woman needed something to look in. He tucked it into his saddlebag.

  The day passed uneventful with no sign of Yuma or his men. The only people they’d seen had been a group of Cherokee riders in the distance. Night had fallen long before Houston and his men stopped to make camp.

  Houston hurried to take Gracie from Lara so she could see to her needs. On and off through the day, the babe had ridden with him and other drovers as well. They had drawn straws for a turn to tote the child around. She did truly belong to each of them.

  What was worse…Gracie seemed to know it. Her slobbery, toothless grin couldn’t get wider each time a drover would reach for her. Something had to be very wrong with Blackstone for wanting the child dead. Houston looked forward to cheating him out of it.

  Everywhere Houston turned, he half expected to find Henry. He sorely missed the boy, but no one missed him more than Lara. The pain she carried for her brother was etched on her face. He cursed Blackstone for creating the need to send him home.

  Houston moved toward his wife, cleared his throat so he wouldn’t take her unaware in the darkness. Lara was nursing Gracie and staring into the night. She seemed a million miles away.

  Evidently hearing him, she swung her gaze to meet his. “Hi there, cowboy.”

  For a long moment, he stood transfixed at the aching beauty of her motherly love.

  “I found something today.” He handed her the hand glass. “Now you can see how beautiful you are. You won’t have to take my word that your scar’s fading.”

  In reaching for the mirror, the cloth shielding her breast fell away. Instead of panicking as she always had, Lara met Houston’s eyes and smiled as though giving him the right to look.

  Her lack of embarrassment took him by surprise.

  “I am curious.” She held up the little looking glass. Wonder filled her voice. “It is. I can look at my scar without flinching now. Thanks to you and the Cherokee woman’s ointment.”

  “That’s good.” He brushed her face with a knuckle. “What can I do to help while you feed Gracie?”

  Her brow wrinkled in thought. “I hate to feed the drovers jerky after the long day they put in. It’s just not right.”

  “I saw a large covey of prairie chickens nearby. I’ll raid their nests for eggs.”

  “Would you mind?”

  “Consider it done.” Before leaving, he let his hand slide along her jaw and down across her shoulders, trying to drag himself away. Once he finally managed, he quickly ordered the drovers to stay close and look for eggs.

  The night whispered around Houston as he scouted the area with Clay. The breeze brought a stench to Houston’s nose.

  “Let’s see where that’s coming from,” Houston said.

  The two men rode about half a mile into some scraggly mesquite trees and pulled up.

  The skeleton frames of burned-out tepees stood like silent sentinels. Destruction lay around them. Blackened bodies everywhere of young and old. Houston slid from the saddle and touched the scorched earth, finding it cool. The carnage had taken place days ago. His mind swept to the scalp hanging from Yuma’s belt. This had to be the man’s handiwork. Had he ridden ahead and looped back? Or was this the work of another group?

  Silently, he and Clay walked among the ruins. As Houston picked up an empty can of beans, icy prickles danced down his spine. Yuma’s campsites had shown the same type of litter.

  “Dammit, Clay, the bastards ate here after they killed these people.”

  Clay spat in the dirt as though to rid his mouth of a bad taste. “What kind of sick bastards do that?”

  Houston dropped the can and strode to his horse. “The kind who’re following us.”

  They rode back to camp, vowing to return at dawn and dig graves. They talked about when Yuma and his men might’ve done this and decided it happened before Sam and Luke came. Houston pasted on a smile for Lara, determined not to share what they’d found.

  Later, after the last drover ate his fill of scrambled eggs and hot biscuits and the cleanup was done, Houston sat beside Lara, counting the minutes until he could be alone with her. He needed her kisses to wipe those images from his head.

  “Do you mind if I play with Gracie a bit?” Caroline asked. “It’ll give me and Nick practice. Besides, she’s the sweetest little thing. I want one just like her.”

  Lara smiled. “She would love it, and so would I.”

  “Footloose and fancy-free, Mrs. Legend?” Houston teased with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  “Why, it does appear that way.”

  “How about a ride?” Houston asked. “We won’t go far.”

  “I’d love to.”

  He grabbed a blanket and lifted her onto the back of the big roan then settled into the saddle behind her. With his arms around her, they rode north, away from the camp and the carnage of the Indian village.

  “Where are we going?” Lara asked.

  “It’s a surprise. I found it today when scouting.” He nuzzled her ear, smelling her fragrance. “You’ll like it.”

  “Do you think it’s safe?”

  “My brothers will keep the gang bottled up a while. With luck, maybe for good.” He slipped an arm around her trim waist. “I’ll keep you safe.”

  They’d ridden about half an hour when they came to the Canadian River. Houston reined up at a tall cottonwood tree standing tall in the moonlight. He dismounted and reached for Lara, groaning as she slid slowly down the length of his body.

  Sparks flared into a fire as though she was the friction for his match. His mouth went dry. Whatever happened tonight would determine how to proceed. Lara would either accept him and their marriage, or he’d live alone in some kind of private hell while he waited for her. He knew it could go either way. Though she’d vowed her love, the practical side of him realized she still had a mountain to climb.

  Would she be brave enough to turn loose of the past?

  Or would the memories keep her always frozen in fear?

  Houston ran his hands across her slight back, feeling the delicate bone
structure. But there was nothing delicate or weak about the woman who filled his heart.

  Thickness formed in his throat. “I’m proud to be your husband. Whatever happens now or in the coming days, I will always love you.” The words came out hoarse and raspy.

  She pressed her lips to the hollow of his throat, below the cut Ghost had left, and emotion made Houston weak. “If I’m dreaming, I never want to wake up. Let me stay in your arms forever. You’re all I need. Love for you spills over, flowing through every part of me.”

  “Through me too.”

  As her words filled the empty crevices inside him, Houston continued memorizing her body, soaking up the feel of her. He let his hands roam over her before cupping her rounded bottom.

  They fit together so well. How could this not be right?

  Their lips met in a hungry kiss. Lara slid her hand around his neck into his hair, drawing him closer to the flame.

  Dear God, he went willingly, with an ache inching up his spine and spreading outward into his limbs. Not lightning, a cattle stampede, nor outlaws could stop him.

  Lara murmured against his mouth, “The grass and trees are a far cry from the arid land we’ve crossed.”

  “A special treat for my lady.” Houston remembered the blanket and reached for it, wondering at his shaking hand. “You’ll see it tomorrow when we ford.”

  He spread the blanket on the wild grass by the rippling water’s edge, praying he’d find the right words—do the right things. He wanted this to be perfect and he’d take his lead from her. If she couldn’t do more than let him kiss her and talk, that was all right.

  He could mark time for however long it took until she was ready. As long as she never left him.

  Thirty-seven

  A million butterflies beat against the inside of Lara’s stomach as she dropped to the blanket.

  Was she ready?

  Lord, she hoped so. She loved this patient man who’d shown her great tenderness. He deserved a whole wife, not someone who could only stand beside him in the daytime. He needed a real partner to help during times of crisis, when the darkness swirled around and tested his strength the most.

  She leaned closer, inhaling his familiar scent, letting calm replace her doubts. Giving his hand a tug, she pulled him down beside her. Placing her mouth next to his ear, Lara whispered, “This is the beginning of the rest of our lives. Are you ready?”

  Houston ran a finger along her jaw and down her neck. “I was born ready for you, darlin’. We don’t have to do anything. We can just sit here and talk.”

  While she still had fear, talking wasn’t what she had in mind.

  She laid a hand on the side of his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. The butterflies disappeared, replaced with a desire to accept wholly everything her husband offered.

  He moved behind her and worked at her braid. “Your hair is too beautiful to put away like this.”

  While he undid each section of hair, Lara asked, “Houston, are you happy?”

  A growl rumbled in his throat. “What kind of question is that? I’ve never known this kind of contentment. You changed my life, Lara. I never want to go back to the lonely man I was before you came. How about you? Are you happy?”

  “I am. For weeks, especially in the beginning, I worried that you wouldn’t keep me. That I brought too many problems.”

  With her hair hanging free, he moved to face her. Moonlight helped her see the burning in Houston’s soulful gaze. His voice rasped. “Of course I’m keeping you. You’re not a holey sock to toss in the rag pile. Promise never to walk away. I never want to step into that kind of darkness again.”

  He brushed his lips across her forehead. The kiss was so gentle it brought tears welling up. Love for this man swept aside every other thought. Deep hunger for him rose, making her stomach whirl and dip.

  “I promise.” She leaned back to stare into his eyes and saw the smoldering passion that darkened the color. “To be separated from you would be the end for me too. Houston, I want to be your wife in every way.”

  “I’ve yearned to hear you say those words.” He drew her closer, protecting her inside the circle of his arms, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know what I call you?” When she shook her head, he said, “You’re my wild Texas rose.”

  The beautiful sentiment brought a lump to her throat and trapped the air in her chest.

  “I’ll tell you why,” Houston continued. “The wild Texas rose is known for resilience and determination. Like you, its roots cling to the soil, no matter how rocky, and the plant puts forth the prettiest flowers. The wild rose survives. So have you. Despite everything life’s thrown at you, you’ve tilted that stubborn chin and thrived.”

  Conviction in his quiet words brought tightness to her throat. She had survived. To be thought of as his wild rose made her deliriously happy.

  “You give me far too much credit.”

  “No, I don’t give you credit enough.” His hand slid down her back. “Lie down and let the moonlight worship you. Though I doubt it can match the love I have for my rose.”

  She stretched out with her arms over her head, gazing up at millions of stars. Never had she felt so liberated or loved. She was free of her pain. Yuma Blackstone had lost his power over her. Houston lay next to her. Moments alone with him were precious few, and these meant more than anything.

  To her, Houston Legend was a knight on an Appaloosa with a six-gun on his hip—a dream she’d thought she’d forever lost.

  Turning on her side, she rested her hand lightly on his chest. “I don’t need pretty words to seduce me. I just need you, but I love being compared to such a flower.” She kissed the hollow of his throat where his pulse beat. “Make love to me, Houston.”

  He knelt above her. “If only we had a wagon with sturdy springs, Mrs. Legend.”

  Lara laughed. “Indeed. But I like being here next to the earth. It’s perfect.” She stroked his face, staring into the dark, smoky depths of his eyes. Slowly she unbuttoned his shirt and laid a palm on the hard wall of his chest.

  As the water splashed against the riverbank, she closed her eyes. It was time to memorize every note of his body. The tune already played in her head. With the rippling river providing accompaniment, Lara began to hear the song written on Houston’s well-formed body.

  Anticipation hummed in her veins as she flattened her palms over his brown nipples, feeling them harden beneath her touch. Before this trip, she’d never thought about men having nipples or that they could show proof of desire. She loved that he gave her freedom to explore, to let her hands go where she wished.

  His bulge pressed into her stomach and she yearned for the courage to touch him there. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

  Memories tried to wiggle into her head, and each time, she pushed them firmly away. Tonight belonged to Houston and her, no one else. She kept her thoughts on the here and now, and the future full of bright promise ahead.

  Houston’s palm slid across her throat and collarbone then into her hair.

  Releasing a groan, he covered her lips with his. As with the time before, he slipped his tongue inside her softly parted lips to dance with hers. She liked what he was doing and how each shift, touch, and flick of his magical fingers brought pleasure swirling inside her.

  Currents of warmth from a low flame danced along her body, but she sensed much more waiting for her just beyond. The music that had begun slow and soft had turned into a crashing anthem. Hunger for her cowboy rose hot, aching, and needy.

  Above her, Houston ran a teasing finger down her throat to the buttons of her dress and traced the curve of each breast.

  Dear God, she wanted him…this thing he alone could give.

  “I have to know if you’re all right with this, Lara. Are you sure?” He spread his hand wide across a swollen breast.

  Her nipple distended, stra
ining against the fabric, reaching for his caress. She felt like the wanton saloon girl she’d once seen kissing a lusty cowboy in the alley in Amarosa. The fallen woman had made bold moves and took what she wanted.

  A craving she couldn’t explain made her breath hitch as she managed, “Never more so.” Her voice sounded husky, not like her at all. “Please, I have this fire about to consume me.”

  “Every wish is my command, darlin’.” He worked at the buttons on her dress.

  Impatience swept over her. She wished he’d simply rip them off and be done. She had to feel his hands on her, to relieve this ravenous hunger, to find the lost part of herself.

  With the buttons undone at last, he rose and pulled her up. As he removed her clothes, the air cooled her fevered skin. She turned to undressing him. Each item she stripped away revealed more and more of his beautiful form. Muscles rippled along his chest and his arms.

  So strong. So virile. So handsome.

  Finally, he stood as naked as she in the moonlight except for his drawers. With his eyes holding hers captive, he slowly lowered the last bit of clothing.

  Trembling from head to toe, she lay back on the blanket. He curled next to her, propping himself on an arm.

  “Will it hurt?” she murmured, kissing his chest.

  “I will never hurt you.”

  “And will you put out this fire that makes me so hot?”

  He chuckled. “I will do my utter best, darlin’.”

  “I like when you call me that. It makes me feel as though I’m someone special.”

  “Never doubt that, because you are.” He knelt, leaving a trail of kisses down her body.

  Lara trembled as she entwined her fingers in his hair. She loved him, this man who had given her child a name, getting nothing in return except a wife frozen by the past. He was her life, her hope, her salvation.

  With each touch, pleasure shot from her core, stronger than anything she’d ever felt. She gasped and rode along with the water of the Canadian as it sang her a song she’d never heard. It was a song of hope, love, and told of a future.

  The velvet warmth of Houston’s kisses drugged her, searing a path to her stomach where he pressed his lips, making her shudder with desire. Finally, he covered her body with his heat. She felt him tremble and knew he waited in anticipation as much as she did.