Texas Glory

by Lorraine Heath

  He tore his hat from his head and lowered his face until he and Henderson were staring eye to eye. Lester backed up, and Dallas stalked him until the man had nowhere else to go and no choice but to bend over the railing like a sapling in the wind.

  “If my wife comes into your bank, I don’t want her to have to ask for a damn thing. I want you to jump out of your chair and ask her what you can do for her. If she wants a loan, then by God, you give her a loan.”

  “But … but collateral,” Henderson stammered.

  “I just showed you her goddamn collateral!”

  “But Boyd said—”

  “I don’t give a damn what Boyd said or what any other member of her family says. If she wants the moon, by God I’ll find a way to give it to her. Right now all she wants is a loan from you, and I’d appreciate it greatly if you’d think on her request tonight and decide in the morning that it would be in this town’s best interest to give it to her.”

  Dallas stepped back. Henderson straightened and puffed out his chest. “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, Henderson, I’m not,” Dallas said in a voice that rang out as deceptively mild. “I never threaten, but I’ll give you my word that if you ever embarrass my wife like you did today, I’ll build a bank next to yours and put you out of business. Wherever you go, I’ll follow until the day I die, and you’ll never again work in a bank, much less own one.”

  Dallas spun on his heel and started down the steps. He stopped and turned. “Henderson, I never want my wife to know of this conversation.”

  Henderson nodded mutely, and Dallas stomped down the steps. He didn’t figure Lester Henderson would ever accuse him of sweet-talking.

  The following morning at breakfast, Dallas watched as his wife slowly trailed her finger over her list of topics.

  “Dee?”

  She looked up, disappointment etched over her features.

  “You don’t have to talk to me if you don’t want to. I won’t discuss husbandry at the table.”

  She nodded grimly, glanced quickly at Austin, then looked back at her notes.

  Dallas could feel Austin’s blue glare boring into him. Apparently, Austin had figured out that Dallas had not sweet-talked his wife last night, and it didn’t sit well with him.

  Cordelia shifted her gaze back to Dallas and gnawed on her bottom lip. “What would you have done if Mr. Henderson hadn’t given you the loan for the cabinetmaker?”

  Dallas leaned back in his chair, incredibly pleased with her question, more pleased that she wasn’t planning to let Henderson or her brother stop her from reaching for her dream. He wondered what other questions she’d written on her list. “I’d go to a bank in another town, convince them to give me the loan.”

  “What town?”

  “Fort Worth would probably be best.” “How far away is—”

  A pounding on the door interrupted her question, but he had a good idea where she was headed with the questions, and he hoped she wouldn’t have to travel there. “Austin, why don’t you go see who’s at the door?” Dallas asked.

  Austin shoved his chair back and stalked from the room. A few minutes later, disbelief mirrored on his young face, he escorted Lester Henderson into the dining room.

  Cordelia gracefully swept out of her chair. “Mr. Henderson, what a pleasure it is to have you in our home. Would you like me to get you some coffee while you speak with my husband?”

  Dallas didn’t know if he’d ever met anyone as gracious as his wife, and at that moment he was damn proud she was married to him.

  Henderson turned his hat in his hand. “Actually, Mrs. Leigh, I’m here to speak with you.”

  Dallas scraped his chair across the floor. Henderson looked as though he’d almost come out of his skin. Dallas stood. “You can use my office. I need to check on the herd.”

  He walked out of the house, headed to the barn, and saddled Satan. By the time he rode the horse out of the barn, Henderson was climbing into his buggy.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” Henderson snapped, his lips pursed.

  Dallas smiled with satisfaction. “I wouldn’t be as successful as I am today if I didn’t know the value of a good investment.”

  “Women know nothing about business,” Henderson said.

  Dallas tipped his hat off his brow. “They know how to manage a home. They know how to manage a family. Why in the hell don’t you think they can manage a business?”

  Sputtering, Henderson slapped the reins and sent the horse into a trot, the buggy rolling back to town.

  Dallas heard his wife’s excited squeal as she called Austin’s name.

  He ignored the ache in his chest because she hadn’t chosen to share her joy with him, and he pretended that it didn’t matter because sooner or later, she’d have no choice.

  She would have to come to him.

  When she did, she’d learn that nothing in life came without a price. In order to have what she wanted, Dallas would have to get what he wanted.

  At the gentle tap on his office door, Dallas turned from the window and the night sky. “Come in.”

  Cordelia opened the door and peered inside. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

  He heard the tremble in her voice. “Sure.”

  Like someone about to confront an executioner, she walked into the room and stood before his desk. She waved her hand toward his chair. “You can sit.”

  “Is that what you prefer?”

  She gave him a jerky nod.

  In long strides, he crossed the room and dropped into his chair. He planted his elbow on the desk and slowly rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his mustache. He lifted a brow.

  She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I … uh.” She cleared her throat. “I thought it would be nice if your town had a hotel. I managed to get a loan and Mr. Curtiss is drawing up the plans for the building—”

  “Dee?”

  She glanced up.

  “You should always look a man in the eye when you’re discussing business.”

  She visibly swallowed. “It makes it harder.”

  “The man you’re doing business with knows that. He’ll respect you for it, and he’s more likely to give you what you’re asking for.”

  “Do you know why I’m here?”

  “I’ve got a good idea.”

  “And you’re still going to make me ask?”

  “Everything in life worth having comes with a price.”

  “And your price?”

  Distrust and fear lurked within the dark depths of her eyes. He hated them both. “Ask.”

  She took a deep breath and balled her hands into fists at her sides.

  “I have the money. I have someone to build it.” She clenched her jaw and angled her chin. “But I need the land. When you announced that you had set aside land for a town, in my ignorance, I assumed that meant it was free for the taking. This afternoon, Mr. Curtiss explained to me that you still own the land, and that merchants must purchase the lots before he can build on them.” Resignation ripped through her voice. “Without the land, I can’t build the hotel.”

  Dallas shoved his chair back. She jumped. If he had to tie her down, he was going to make her stop jumping every time he moved.

  He went to a corner and picked up a scroll. He placed it on the desk and gave it a gentle push. It rolled across the flat surface, revealing the layout of his town: the planned streets, the building lots. He set his inkwell on one end of the scroll to hold it in position and placed the lamp on the other end.

  “Where do you want your hotel?” he asked.

  Curiosity replaced the fear as she leaned over the map. She trailed her finger along the widest street.

  “Main Street,” she said quietly. “I suppose I’d want it on the same street as the bank and general store. Where will the railroad be?”

  “I’m expecting it to come through at this end of town,” he said, touching the southernmost point.

  “What are these smaller blocks of la
nd for?” she asked, touching a section set back from the town.

  “Houses, if we get enough people moving in.”

  She gnawed on her lower lip. “The hotel should be near the railroad.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Don’t you think?”

  He wasn’t prepared for the shaft of pleasure that speared him. She wanted his opinion. He swallowed hard. “That’s where I’d put it.”

  She nodded and placed her finger on a parcel of land just down from where he’d said the railroad would be. “How much would this piece of land cost me?”

  He felt the glory of success surge through him. Her dream was to build a hotel. He understood dreams. His dream was to have a son. A simple trade: one dream for another. They could both have what they wanted. But without trust, without affection, the price suddenly seemed too high.

  “A smile,” he said quietly.

  She jerked her gaze up. “I beg your pardon?”

  “The price is a smile … like the ones you give Austin or Houston … or that damn prairie dog of yours.”

  She blinked her eyes and straightened. Then she pulled her lips back to reveal a tortured grin that more closely resembled a grimace.

  The lesson learned was a painful one: he couldn’t force affection. He couldn’t force a smile. And he imagined if he crawled into her bed and took what was his by right, he’d feel emptier than he did now.

  He dipped his pen into the inkwell and scrawled “Dee’s Hotel” across the blank square on the map of his town. Then he walked to the window, placed his hands behind his back, and gazed at the moonless sky, trying to fill a void that only seemed to deepen with each passing moment.

  “That’s it?” she asked behind him.

  “That’s it.”

  “That block of land is mine?”

  “It’s yours.”

  “Oh, Dallas.”

  He turned from the window. In obvious awe, she touched the words he’d written on the map. Tears glistened in her eyes as she looked at him and smiled … a glorious smile that stole his breath away.

  “I’ve never owned anything in my whole life, and now I own this little piece of land—”

  “You own a lot more than that. In truth, you didn’t even have to give me a smile. It was yours all along.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “When you married me, you became my partner not only in my life, but in everything—my ranch, the town … everything, and I became your partner.”

  As he’d known it would, her smile retreated like the sun before a storm.

  “Then the hotel … it will be yours as well?”

  “Ours. But I’ll be a silent partner.”

  “What does that mean?’

  “You’re free to do whatever you want with the hotel. Make it into whatever you want it to be, and I’ll keep my mouth shut. But if you ever want an opinion on something, I’ll be here.”

  She folded her hands in her lap and stared at them.

  “Nothing has changed, Dee.”

  “Everything has changed,” she said quietly. She lifted her gaze to his. “What if I want the hotel to take up two of these spaces on the map?”

  He raised a brow. “Two spaces?”

  She nodded. “I want it to be a grand hotel. When people pass through here, I want them to talk about it.”

  He walked back to the desk. “Then mark off another block.”

  Smiling, she dipped the pen into the inkwell and with deliberate strokes, wrote her name in a space on the map. She peered up at him. “What if I want three?”

  “I have some plans for the town, too.”

  She leaned forward. “What are your plans?”

  Her question echoed through his heart. He’d felt slighted when she hadn’t shared her plans with him before, and what had he shared with her? Not one damn thing.

  He sat, placed his elbow on the wooden arm of the chair, and brushed his mustache. He’d only ever told people what they needed to know in order to get the job done. He couldn’t recall ever telling anyone everything he hoped for.

  “Uh, well, I’ve got a newspaperman interested in coming to Leighton.”

  Her eyes widened. “A newspaper? We’ll have a newspaper?”

  He liked the way she’d said “we.”

  “Yeah, we’ll have a newspaper. He’ll be able to do announcements and post bulletins for people.”

  “What will the paper be called?”

  “The Leighton Leader.”

  “What else?”

  “A mortician.”

  She visibly shuddered.

  “People die,” he said.

  She looked back at the map and traced her finger along the lines that represented streets.

  “McGirk, Tipton, Phillipy …” Her voice trailed off, leaving the names of so many other streets unspoken. “Who did you name these streets after?”

  He stopped stroking his mustache. His mind suddenly filled with the sounds of cannons, explosions, and gunfire. “Men I sent to their deaths,” he said quietly. “They were boys really, more afraid of me than they were of the enemy.” He lifted a shoulder. “Naming the streets after them is my way of remembering them, honoring them.”

  “You weren’t very old during the war.”

  “Few soldiers were.”

  She scooted up in her chair. “I know so little about you.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “Everything.” She averted her gaze as though embarrassed. “Did you know I wanted to build a hotel?”

  “I’d heard the rumor.”

  She peered at him. “Do you think it will be successful?” “Absolutely.”

  She placed her hands on the desk, fear etched within the dark depths of her eyes, but he didn’t think it was fear of him.

  “Dallas, I want to do something different with the hotel.”

  She stood and began to pace. So graceful. So elegant. He wondered if he’d ever truly watched her walk.

  “What do you want to do?” he asked.

  She stopped and grabbed the back of her chair. ‘I want to use the hotel to bring women to Leighton.”

  He furrowed his brow. “What?”

  She scurried around the chair, sat, and leaned forward, an excitement in her eyes, the likes of which he’d never seen. “You mentioned placing an ad to get women to come to Leighton as brides, which seems so unfair to me. A woman has to promise herself to a man she’s never met—just as Amelia promised herself to you. What happens if she falls in love with someone else? Not every man will be as generous as you were. Not every man will give up his claim. Or what happens if she meets the man and doesn’t like him?”

  She hopped out of the chair and began pacing again. Dallas was fascinated watching her, as though he could actually see her thoughts forming.

  “I want to give women a reason to come to Leighton that has nothing to do with marriage. I want to have a nice restaurant inside the hotel where men will meet to discuss business. I want women to manage the hotel and work in the restaurant. We’ll bring women from all over the country here. Train them. Give them the skills they need to work in our hotel. If they happen to meet a man and get married, it won’t be because they had no choice.”

  Her words rammed into him with the force of a stampeding bull. She’d had no choice. He wondered who she might have chosen to marry if she’d been given the choice.

  She stopped pacing, placed her palms on his desk, and met his gaze. “What do you think?”

  That you should have had a choice.

  He held his thoughts, stood, and walked to the window. In the distance, he could hear his windmill. Behind him, he could feel Dee’s tenseness as she waited for his answer.

  He had not given her a choice when the decision was made that they would marry, but he could give her a choice now. He would stay out of her bedroom until she wanted him there.

  Turning, he captured her gaze. “I think you’re about to build an empire.”

  CHAPTER

  ELEVEN
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br />   Within Dallas’s office, Cordelia shifted in the chair and scribbled more notes across what had once been an unmarred sheet of paper. She was quickly discovering that building an empire was no easy task. Details abounded.

  In the morning she worked quickly to clean away any evidence that they had eaten breakfast. She tidied the house and made beds.

  It occurred to her one morning that if Dallas would truly become her husband, sleep in her bed, she would only have to spend time making two beds, instead of three, washing sheets for two beds, instead of three.

  She’d considered discussing the arrangement with him, but she couldn’t quite gather enough courage. She was certain he would want to do more than sleep in her bed, and she wasn’t altogether ready for what the “more” might entail.

  Although with each passing day, she found herself thinking of Dallas with increasing frequency.

  After she finished her chores around the house, Austin would escort her to town. She constantly thought about Dallas as she viewed the plans that Mr. Curtiss was drawing up. She would wonder if Dallas was tending his cattle. She would hope that a reason would surface for him to come into town as well.

  It seemed their paths continually crossed. She enjoyed walking through the town with him, listening as he explained the strengths and weaknesses in the buildings or discussed the other businesses that were coming to Leighton: the sign maker, the baker, the cobbler, and the barber.

  But she anticipated the evenings most of all. She would curl up in the stuffed chair in Dallas’s office and discuss her plans with him: the wording of her advertisements that would bring women to Leighton to work in her hotel, the type of furniture she wanted to place in the hotel rooms, the variety of meals she wanted to serve in the restaurant.

  He had offered to give her a discount on beef. She had reminded him that she didn’t need a discount. As his partner, she could simply take the cattle she wanted.

  He’d laughed, deeply, richly, and she had realized that she loved his laughter, loved the way he listened to her, loved the approval of her suggestions that she saw reflected in his brown gaze.