Texas Heat

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Texas Heat Page 1

by Holly Castillo




  Texas Heat

  A Texas Legacy Romance

  Holly Castillo

  Texas Heat

  Copyright © 2017 Holly Castillo

  Smashwords Edition

  The Tule Publishing Group, LLC

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 978-1-947636-08-8

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  Dedication

  Thank you to all of my family and friends who have supported me through this incredible journey. Thank you for joining me on the ride through it all!

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Texas Legacy Series

  About Scandal with the Rancher

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  March 16, 1840

  Republic of Texas

  San Antonio

  It was just a flash of light. But it caught Trevor’s eye and instinctively his right hand settled on the handle of his gun. His eyes probed the darkness for any signs of movement. He stepped a little further out onto the porch, attempting to escape the high-pitched giggles and poorly played piano music of the saloon.

  His eyes searched the surrounding area, but the only movement came from the horses tethered to the post, stamping their feet and swishing their tails. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Leaning casually against one of the posts of the building, his eyes traveled upwards.

  The silhouette of someone sitting on top of the roof of the two-story building directly across the street surprised him. The person up there was smoking a cigarette, the tip of it lighting up every time they took a drag, which explained the flash of light he had seen when they had lit it.

  He wanted to see the person more closely. Why were they sitting on the roof of a building watching the rangers coming in and out of the saloon? Or maybe the person just got enjoyment out of being able to see the activities of some of the patrons with the womenfolk on the second floor of the saloon, as many of these women neglected to close their curtains.

  But something about the movements of this person seemed unusual for a man who was just watching for fun. No, the movements of this person were almost... feminine. He squinted into the darkness, trying to make out a face.

  Instead, he saw long, beautiful curls draped down the shoulders, a light cotton shirt, and buckskin pants. She even wore moccasins. What was this woman up to? She took another drag on her cigarette, temporarily lighting up her face, and he saw she was staring him in the eyes, almost daring him to say anything or to come up to her on the roof.

  He felt pinned down by her gaze, and he wanted to be able to see her completely, not just the small flash he had gained from the light of her cigarette. But the light was gone now as she tapped the ashes off, but somehow he could still feel her gaze on him. She was watching, but he didn’t know why.

  Mentally shaking himself, he needed to find out why she was up there in the first place, and why she was spying on his rangers. He took a step off of the porch and headed towards the building. He glanced up again, wondering how she had been able to get up there. He froze mid-step and looked around him. She was gone.

  “Angie, believe or not, your empanadas are popular today.”

  Angie laughed and playfully swatted at her sister. “It’s only taken me ten years to get them right.” Her voice was sardonic, and she turned to plate the empanadas for their customer.

  Olivia joined them, her hair braided neatly behind her with a few loose strands framing her face. It was completely different than the way she used to be four years ago, when she wore a tight bun and frowned more than she smiled. Married life was good for her, it seemed.

  Serena smiled at her older sister. “The business is good this morning, si?”

  Olivia smiled, too. “Yes, it is, but I need you to be out there taking care of the customers instead of standing in here chatting with Angie.”

  Serena fought the urge to roll her eyes and kept her smile plastered on her face. She nodded to Olivia because, if she opened her mouth, it would be unpleasant words she exchanged with her.

  Grabbing the pot of steaming coffee as well as the pitcher of cold water, she headed out from the kitchen at the back of the house and to the customers filling the round tables that occupied the entire front of their home.

  Gradually, she worked her way around the room, pouring coffee and refilling water cups and listening, hoping to hear something about the council house meeting scheduled to take place in only a few days. It was all she could think about lately. She and Talking Wolf, her one and only true friend, were worried but tentatively optimistic that the meeting would result in a peace that would help everyone, not only the Comanche, but the Texians as well.

  With her heart hopeful, she listened closely to the conversations. But most of the talk was the rangers sharing some of their wild experiences with the townsfolk who had come in to listen to the stories and get a good meal.

  Again, Serena wanted to roll her eyes. Yes, the rangers were very highly regarded for their bravery and all that they did to help the Texas settlers. They brought law to areas that were lawless. But she could only tolerate so many stories of bravery and incredible acts of heroics before her skin began to crawl. Weren’t the rangers supposed to be modest, too?

  “It gets a bit irritating after a while, I know.”

  Serena’s head popped up to look at the man for whom she was refilling water and her eye ticked. It was the man from the previous night—the man that had stepped out of the saloon and was suddenly in her world. No one had ever seen her up on that roof. Yet he had.

  “I’m sorry?” she said, attempting to remember what he had said to grab her attention in the first place.

  He smiled and it was completely disarming. The small dimples in his cheeks softened his rough exterior, with his dark hair and grey eyes that seemed to capture everything he looked at. And, at the moment, he was looking at her.

  “I said it gets a bit irritating after a while. These boys love to tell the stories of how they got some of their scars, or a bank robbery they foiled, or one of their other num
erous engagements they enjoy talking about.”

  “Ah,” Serena said, finally able to pull her gaze from his. “I don’t pay much attention to it.” She shrugged. “I try not to pay much attention to anything said around here given the way people gossip, and especially the way these rangers exaggerate their stories. It’s absolutely ridiculous, if you ask me, right, ranger?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “So why, then, are you so interested in my men?”

  Serena raised an eyebrow to match his and placed the coffee canister down so she could place a hand on her hip. “What does it matter to you?” She would be damned if she let this man question her intentions.

  “What were you doing on the roof last night? Sitting there, watching me, watching my men. Why?”

  “What I do with my time is none of your concern. But what happens to my town is of my concern. What are you doing here, ranger? Why are you and your men here?”

  “Is that why you spy on my men from the roof, smoking cigarettes? You think you’ll find out answers, sitting up there?”

  Serena pursed her lips slightly, then set down the pitcher of water on the table. She was trembling slightly with her agitation at him calling her out in public, and tried to gain control over her emotions. She should have been more careful. But she had never expected someone to look up and see her on top of the roof. And how on earth had he recognized her, especially given that it was so dark?

  “Look, ranger, you are wasting my time. Other than harassing me, is there anything, like food, that you might want? This is a cocina, you know.”

  He dropped his head, doing a poor job hiding his smile. But when he looked back up at her, his face was serious. “I take my command very importantly. And I take the safety of my men even more seriously. Do I have a reason to be concerned about you?”

  Serena couldn’t help but lift her eyebrows at him. “There’s always reasons to be concerned when it comes to me. Just ask anyone in this town.”

  His lips twitched slightly. “I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Miss Torres. Please, forgive me?”

  He stretched out his hand for a handshake and she hesitated for a few minutes, then finally grasped his hand. It was rough and calloused, showing her that he was a hard worker. His hand was large, fully engulfing her petite one, and its warmth seemed to spread up her arm.

  She pulled her hand away quickly and picked up the coffee pot and pitcher of water then asked him once again for his breakfast order. She was still trying to catch her breath as she walked into the kitchen and set down the coffee and water and began gathering the plates of food that were ready to be served to the patrons. She had been irritated earlier, but now her heart pounded with the memory of the strength and masculinity he had demonstrated as he questioned her. But, before she could get out of the kitchen, Angie caught her.

  “Who was that, Serri? He certainly is handsome.”

  “Is he?” Serena tried to focus on what she was doing. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Well, he seems to have certainly noticed you,” Angie said with a smirk as she moved past her.

  Serena took several deep breaths, then stepped back out into the dining area, balancing several plates. She remembered when she had just been a kid she had watched her sisters serving the men their food like this, and she had wondered if she would ever be as good as them.

  She carefully set down the plates in front of the hungry men, and even a couple of women. It was the same thing every day. It seemed her entire world was tied up in this cocina, as if she had no choice about her own life.

  Longingly, she looked out the window and saw the road that led out of town. One day. One day I’m going to see more of this world. One day I’ll know more than just San Antonio!

  They had finished feeding most everyone in the room, yet the ranger that was determined to pester her remained, eating slowly, watching her every move. When their last patron had left from the afternoon rush, she approached him. “The cocina is closed for now, señor. We open again in the morning.”

  “Ah, good. I didn’t know if you stayed open for the evening sup or not. Now we will finally have a quiet place to talk.”

  Serena bristled. “We’ve already talked enough for today—wouldn’t you agree? You can come again tomorrow, and we can discuss whatever you want.”

  His lips twitched slightly. “That’s a dangerous proposition you make.”

  This man was having a devastating effect on her nerves. And her temper.

  “We have nothing to discuss, sir. Have a good day.”

  “I know it was you I saw last night. You chose a poor location to spy on my men.”

  Serena hesitated and her steps faltered as they carried her away from him. She wanted to turn back to him and demand to know how he knew she was the one that had been on the roof, and challenge him on his arrogance. But she had no way of doing that without playing her hand. Forcing her back ramrod straight, she headed for the kitchen once again, effectively dismissing him in every possible way. Except from her memory. His dimpled grin seemed stamped in her mind’s eye.

  Fortunately, the ranger left, and she was able to prepare for her usual activities, now that the afternoon was slowly fading into darkness. Every evening, she looked forward to her brief break from reality, when she could wander from the house and sit at the top of the town, watching everyone settle down for the night. While the people of the town either settled in for the dark by lighting the lanterns in their homes or gravitated to the loud and bawdy saloon, she was drawn to the black of night, to the adventure and potential that might wait for her.

  Olivia and Angie had both talked to her about the dangers of going out at night. But she was far from being known to heed warnings to be cautious. The higher the probability that she might experience something that could get her heart racing, that could plunge her in an adventure that she could only imagine, the higher the probability she would take whatever risk it involved.

  Again, she sat on the roof across from the saloon, but this time hovered closer to the chimney stack. She had watched the rangers and their desire to partake in the burning, fluid drinks offered inside the saloon, and even the female companionship presented. Yet, the ranger that approached her had seemed different. He even referred to them as “his men.” Was he their leader? She needed to know more, and she needed to know why they were gathered in town in the first place.

  She pulled one of her carefully wrapped cigarettes from her pocket and sniffed it, enjoying the fresh smell of various herbs and tobacco. It wasn’t the best habit to have, but she only had one or two a night, and it was the vice she allowed herself to indulge in. With Olivia and Angie constantly hovering over her, she had few vices she could still enjoy.

  It had been so different only a handful of years ago. She didn’t shoulder the same responsibilities as her sisters, and was at liberty to go exploring and be as creative as her nature demanded her to be. And that had led her to Talking Wolf, the Comanche that had inspired her to be a better person and was like a father to her. He had encouraged her wild ways and her exploration. For an older man that had made the choice to leave his tribe and live among the San Antonio citizens, he clung tightly to the ways and traditions of his people, and she had eaten up every bit of it.

  But, life changed, as it always did. Angie was married now with a toddler running between their legs all the time. Olivia was also married, and she, too, had a young child that tottered around with its cousin. So they needed her help in the cocina now more than ever.

  So, she shed her bright and chaotic clothing and donned an apron. She had attempted to tame her wild and curly hair, instead of letting it bounce with her every step. She had learned how to make tortillas, and how to help their grandfather on the grill. Their grandparents were slowing down quickly, and it was becoming more and more apparent that the sisters would be running the cocina soon on their own.

  Angie’s husband was busy establishing their home and building a herd of cattle to start a ranching business. And
Olivia’s husband was the sheriff of San Antonio. But they knew how important the cocina was, and made it a point to help out as often as possible, taking a great deal of strain off of their grandfather.

  Serena’s eyes strayed to the road leading south, away from San Antonio. She never would realize her dream to one day go exploring and see what the rest of the world looked like. Instead, she was tethered to the cocina.

  The piano music picked up to a faster rhythm and, from the raucous noise inside, it was obvious some of the men were attempting to dance with the women of the saloon. Their boots stomped hard on the wood floor and there was the faint sound of their spurs clinking.

  Serena shook her head. Why the hell were they even in San Antonio? Deep inside, she had the sickening feel she knew the answer to the question, but fought it. That afternoon, after they had cleaned the cocina, she had gone to Talking Wolf, and had been thrilled his son, Stalking Wolf, was there visiting. She and Stalking Wolf had practically grown up together. He was the one who had taught her how to fight, how to hold a gun and shoot, and her favorite, how to ride a horse bareback and control its every movement with her legs.

  But that afternoon, the topic wasn’t as fun and lighthearted as she used to enjoy with them. Instead, it was filled with worry. Both father and son had seen the military and rangers that roamed the streets, and they feared confrontation between the Comanche and the men in town seemed inevitable. Serena had argued that surely there was another reason.

  But it seemed the only logical explanation. The Texans were expecting trouble from the Comanche when they showed up for the Council House Meeting in only a couple of days and wanted to be certain they had the manpower available to quell any of the potential disruption.

  “And here I thought you would at least attempt a different location after I pointed out your flawed hideout already once.”

  Serena nearly dropped her cigarette and pressed her eyes closed tightly. Fool, fool, fool! Slowly she turned to face the ranger, taking a long drag on her cigarette. “And here I thought you would be bright enough to leave me alone.”

 

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