Texas Glory

by Lorraine Heath

  “Sounds easy enough,” Cordelia said.

  Dallas looked at her and squinted. “You’ve never ridden?” he asked as though he thought he’d misunderstood her the night before.

  She shook her head. “My father considered it unseemly and dangerous for a woman to ride a horse.”

  He walked backward until he stood by the horse’s shoulder. “You just grab the saddle horn, put a foot in the stirrup, pull up, and swing your other leg over.”

  Although she was tall, she still found the horn to be exceptionally high as she wrapped her hands around it. Dallas grabbed the stirrup and held it steady after her foot missed it twice. She slipped her booted foot into the stirrup, took a deep breath, and bounced up. Dallas grabbed her waist with one hand, pressed his other hand to her backside, and hoisted her over. Heat flaming her cheeks, Cordelia settled into the saddle. No one had ever touched her so intimately.

  As the horse shied to the side, Cordelia dug her fingers into the saddle horn. Dallas grabbed the bridle, and the horse calmed.

  “Take these,” he said, holding the reins up to her.

  Cordelia stared at the strips of leather threaded through his fingers. Long fingers that had easily spanned half her waist. She reached out and took the reins. “Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” he grumbled as he stalked around to his horse and mounted in one fluid movement. “Come on. Give Beauty a gentle kick.”

  She did as he instructed, and Beauty followed Dallas’s horse at a slow pace. She wondered how it would feel to gallop across the plains, the wind blowing in her face. She could feel the breeze now, just a slight breath over her cheeks.

  The man riding beside her looked as though he’d been born to the saddle, as though he and his horse were one.

  Cordelia glanced around, expecting others to join them. “Where’s the escort?”

  Dallas stared at her. “What escort?”

  “My father always insisted that I travel with at least six men to guard me. I just assumed your men—”

  “I protect what’s mine,” he said in a taut voice.

  He didn’t have to move his hand to the gun resting along his thigh or the rifle housed in his saddle to convince her that he spoke truthfully.

  “What … what is your horse’s name?” she asked.

  “Satan.”

  The black devil rode Satan. It somehow seemed appropriate.

  “I had a devil of a time breaking him,” Dallas explained. “In the end, I had to let Houston handle him.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  He shrugged. “That’s where Houston’s talent lies, taming horses.”

  “What is your talent?”

  He held her gaze. “I build empires.”

  They rode west for over an hour with nothing but silence and a soft breeze between them.

  Dallas fought to keep his gaze focused on the far horizon instead of on his new wife. He’d thought she had looked lovely dressed in white yesterday. In red, she was devastatingly beautiful. The deep shade brought out the richness of her porcelain skin, black hair, and brown eyes.

  The combination was almost enough to make him change his mind about what he’d decided to do this morning. But the hesitancy in her voice when she spoke to him and the fear that still resided in her eyes kept him from altering his plans.

  He drew Satan to a halt at the top of the small rise and turned the horse slightly. Beauty stopped beside him.

  “Why did we stop?” Cordelia asked. “To watch the sunrise.”

  He couldn’t explain why he wanted to watch the sun ease over the horizon with this woman by his side. Dawn wasn’t his favorite time of day. He preferred the night, when the clouds faded away to reveal the stars. The stars had guided him home countless times. As a boy, he’d even wished on them.

  He had thought about asking Cordelia to ride with him last night when he couldn’t sleep, but he’d needed time alone to think, to wade through the quagmire he’d inadvertently created. He didn’t know if he could untangle the mess, but he was hoping he could give them a smoother trail to follow.

  He heard her small intake of breath as the sun began to wash away the darkness. He wondered if she’d ever watched the start of a new day. He knew so little about her. It had all seemed unimportant until last night.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said quietly.

  So are you hung on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, not knowing how the morning would end.

  Barely turning her face in his direction, she gave him a hesitant smile. “Thank you.”

  He grimaced. “I didn’t make the sunrise. I just brought you to see it.”

  She nodded slightly and averted her gaze. He would have taken back the gruffness in his voice if he could. He didn’t know why he always sounded angry when he spoke to her. Perhaps because the fulfillment of his final dream rested on her willingness to give it to him.

  Reaching out, he grabbed Beauty’s reins and turned both horses away from the rising sun.

  Cordelia stared at the river, the men lining its far bank, and the barbed-wire fence that stretched along the length of the stream. In the distance, beyond the fence, a cloud of dust rose toward the sky as cattle tromped toward the fence.

  She recognized her brothers leading the herd, Boyd with his arm still in a white sling, Duncan and Cameron on either side of him. They brought their horses to a halt, and the cattle wandered to a stop behind them as the men flanking each side cut off the cows that wanted to keep moving.

  She heard the babbling of the river and low bawling of the cattle. Her heart tightened in her chest as she realized why Dallas had brought her here: to see exactly what her family had traded her for.

  She wished she were skilled enough with a horse that she could simply gallop away.

  Beside her, Dallas removed his hat and draped his wrist over his saddle horn. “I’ve always considered myself easy on the eyes. I’ve got more land than I know what to do with and enough money that my family will never do without. I assumed any woman would be pleased to have me for a husband.

  “Your family and I have been feuding over this strip of land every since the day you arrived. I want a son. I want the feuding to stop. Marrying you seemed a way to have both. Unfortunately, I failed to take your feelings on the matter into consideration.”

  He shifted his gaze away from her. “See that man standing by the fence?”

  She saw a tall, lean-boned man positioned next to the barbed wire, his horse tethered to a post. “Yes?”

  “That’s Slim, my foreman. You ride down there, and he’ll cut the fence for you, let you go through so you can meet up with your brothers on the other side.”

  “And you’ll still pull your fence back?”

  He turned his dark unwavering gaze on her. “This land has soaked up my sweat and blood … and that of my brothers. I won’t give an inch of it away if I receive nothing in return.”

  Her hopes plummeted. “And if I stay here?”

  “Raise your hand and lower it. Then my men will pull the fence back. Today I’m giving you what your family and I failed to give you yesterday: a choice. Stay or go. It’s your decision.”

  “But we’re already married.”

  “It can be undone easy enough.”

  “My father and brothers will be furious.’

  He held her gaze. “I’m prepared to deal with that.”

  “You broke Boyd’s arm before. What will you do this time? Kill him?”

  His gaze never faltered. “If I have to.”

  Her stomach lurched. She certainly couldn’t accuse Dallas Leigh of being dishonest. Her mouth grew as dry as the wind. “You’ve only given me the illusion of a choice.”

  “Sometimes, that’s all life gives any of us.”

  A few moments ago, she had marveled at the beauty of the sunrise, and now she was seeing the ugliness of men and their greed.

  “Do you want to be married to a woman who hates yo
u?” she asked, realizing with sickening dread that she could very well grow to hate this man.

  He settled his hat on his head, throwing shadows over his face. “I don’t need your love, but I need your decision. My men have work they need to get to.”

  She felt the anger seething through her. “My father was right. You are a coldhearted bastard.”

  He turned his head sharply as though he were as surprised by the vehemence in her voice as she was. She’d never in her life dared to speak so sharply to anyone. She expected him to give her what her father gave her brothers when they used that harsh tone on him: a backhand across the face.

  “I’m giving you a choice he wasn’t willing to give you,” he said.

  Hearing the tautness in his voice, she marveled at his restraint.

  “I’ll gladly take it,” she said as she kicked the sides of her horse. She allowed the mare to take a half-dozen steps before she pulled back on the reins. She glanced over her shoulder. Dallas hadn’t moved. Not a muscle. She remembered him as she had seen him last night: sitting on the corral, staring at the moon.

  What choice had life given him for a wife? She hadn’t counted, but she had seen fewer than a dozen women at her wedding. Her brothers were always discussing the absence of women, speculating as to where they might find a wife, going so far as to answer advertisements in magazines.

  Perhaps an illusion of choice was all any of them truly had.

  Her true choices were limited to living within the shadows cast by her father and brothers or living within the shadow cast by this man. Shadows when she longed for sunshine.

  Prison was prison, but at least her current jailer gave her the freedom to ride, an inane reason to raise and lower her hand, but she did, never taking her eyes off her husband. The air suddenly filled with shrill whistles, whoops, and yells.

  Dallas urged his horse forward until it was even with hers. “You might as well watch what you’ve given them,” he said, his voice low.

  She turned her gaze from him as his men lassoed the crooked posts and began pulling them back across the river. Her brothers removed their hats, waved them in a circle over their heads, and urged their horses forward, the cattle following.

  “I want a son,” Dallas said quietly.

  Cordelia’s heart thudded madly in her chest. “I’m aware of that. My family gets the land they want. And what do I get?”

  He removed his hat and met her gaze. “Anything you want.”

  Cordelia considered asking for her freedom, but she knew in her heart that she would never abandon a child she brought into the world. His son would bind her to Dallas more strongly than any vows she had spoken yesterday.

  She had never known what it was to hate anyone, but she felt the uncomfortable stirrings now. Her father had sheltered her, protected her, until she had become little more than a possession to be bartered away.

  “Love?” she asked.

  His eyes darkened. “Give me a son and I’ll find a way to give it to you.”

  Austin dearly wanted to kill the little men who were building a town inside his head. Their constant pounding reverberated between his temples.

  He forced himself to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. The pounding grew louder, and he realized a good deal of it wasn’t in his head at all.

  “Breakfast is ready!”

  He groaned at Dallas’s booming voice.

  “I’m coming,” he mumbled. He bowed his head and hoped to God Dallas had let Cordelia sleep late. He didn’t know how in the world he was going to be able to look her in the eye.

  He shoved himself to his feet, washed up as quickly as he could, changed into a clean shirt, and headed down to breakfast.

  Dallas and Cordelia were already sitting across from each other, Dallas chewing his food, Cordelia scraping the eggs from one side of her plate to the other. Austin took the chair between them.

  “You look like hell,” Dallas said.

  “I feel like hell.”

  Dallas shoved a plate of fried eggs toward him. The yellow yolks quivered, and Austin’s stomach roiled.

  “Get something into your belly,” Dallas ordered.

  Austin reached for the coffeepot and poured the steaming black brew into his cup. “I just want coffee.”

  He planted his elbow on the table and set his chin on his palm to keep his face from falling to the table.

  “ ’Preciate you hauling me to bed last night,” Austin said.

  “Couldn’t very well leave you in the back of Houston’s wagon.”

  He remembered thinking how comfortable Maggie looked curled up in the wagon, and he’d climbed in beside her. His mouth felt as though he’d swallowed the cat’s tail.

  “What time you gonna pull your fence back?”

  “I’ve already pulled it back.”

  Grimacing at the censure in his brother’s voice, Austin forced himself to meet Dallas’s gaze. “Reckon I should have been there.”

  “Reckon you should have been, but it’s done now. You planning to go into town today?”

  “I don’t think I could sit in a saddle for more than five minutes without puking.”

  Dallas shook his head. “What in the hell were you and Cameron thinking?”

  “We were trying not to think.”

  Dallas leaned back in his chair. “I’m going to work on my books for a while, and then I need to check on the herd. Will you be able to take care of my wife if she needs anything?”

  Austin glanced quickly at Cordelia and nodded.

  “Good.” Dallas scraped his chair back and picked up his plate.

  “I’ll clean that for you,” Cordelia said softly.

  Austin had never seen Dallas look as though he didn’t know what to do, but he sure looked hesitant now. They weren’t accustomed to having a woman around to see after their needs.

  “I don’t mind cleaning up after the meals,” Cordelia said.

  Dallas set the plate on the table. “Fine, then. I appreciate the gesture.”

  He strode from the room, and Austin wished he could have left with him, but he knew too many things remained unsaid between him and Cordelia, and living in the same house would be hell until everything was settled.

  He took a long drag on his coffee, hoping to clear his head. Then he leaned toward her. “Do you mind if I call you Dee? I know Cameron does.”

  She glanced up, then back down. “That’s fine.”

  “No, it ain’t fine, and we both know why.” He put his hand over hers, and she snapped her gaze up to his. He gave her a sad smile. “You heard something last night that you were never supposed to hear.”

  She lowered her gaze. “It doesn’t matter.”

  He squeezed her hand until she looked at him again. “It does matter. When men get drunk, they say things they shouldn’t. I won’t deny that Dallas wants a son … bad. But I also know he’ll treat you right, the way a man ought to treat a woman.”

  “Cameron told you I didn’t have a nose?”

  Austin grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t know why he did that.”

  “And you told Dallas.” “Yep, and I don’t know why I did that.” “And he still married me. He must be desperate indeed.”

  He took her hand between both of his. “You have to understand our family. You’ve seen Houston. Men don’t come much more scarred than he is. Amelia fell in love with him. After seeing that, I reckon we just don’t put much stock in looks.”

  “What in God’s name did you think you were doing this morning?”

  Dallas glanced up from the spittle that had landed on his desk and met Angus McQueen’s fiery gaze.

  “Moving my fence back.”

  “With my daughter on a horse, on a rise where she could have easily fallen and been killed. I told you she was delicate.”

  “Your daughter sits a horse well, McQueen. The horse is gentle enough that my three-year-old niece rides her. Your daughter was safe.”

  “So you say. You’ve got to protect her�
�”

  “I’ll protect her, but I’ll do it my way.”

  Angus dropped into the chair. His sons continued to stand, their arms crossed, although Dallas thought Cameron looked as though he might bring up his latest meal at any moment, a thought he didn’t find particularly reassuring.

  “You just don’t understand,” Angus said. “Women can’t protect themselves. You’ve got to keep them close or they’ll harm themselves, just as my dear wife did.”

  Dallas rubbed his brow, trying to ease his headache. He’d wanted an end to the strife, and he’d only managed to reshape it. “Look, McQueen, she’s my wife now. I’ll take care of her.”

  “It’s not easy to hand your daughter over to another man’s keeping.”

  “Seemed easy enough yesterday. You couldn’t even bother to drag yourself over here to be with her when the very devil himself took her as his wife.”

  McQueen narrowed his eyes. “I wasn’t feeling well—”

  “My guess is you’d spent the night before drowning your guilt, and a hangover kept you at home.” When the man started to rise from his chair, Dallas held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it, McQueen. Your excuses, your worries, your concerns. I don’t give a damn about any of them. You want to visit with your daughter, fine. Visit with her. But don’t lecture me on how to care for her. You gave that right up when you traded her for my water. She can ride bareback, buck naked across the plains for all I care.”

  Dallas was certain the man was going to keel over from heart failure, his face turned so red, his mouth worked, but no words spewed forth.

  Dallas stood. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  He walked from the room and up the stairs. Austin had told him Cordelia had retired to her room after they had finished breakfast. He had a feeling he hadn’t accomplished all he’d planned to this morning. She was still too wary of him.

  He knocked lightly on her door. He heard her quiet footsteps on the other side. She opened the door and peered out as though she expected to find a monster on the other side.

  “Your family is in my office. They’d like to visit with you … if you want to see them.”