Give Me a Texan

by Jodi Thomas

  “Will do, Officer Goodnight.”

  “Might as well call me Billy. Your daughter does.”

  That precocious child of his had obviously wormed her way into the constable’s good favor. To make quick work of his intentions, Briar decided to go through the alleys. He lengthened his strides past two alleys before rounding the corner to his backyard. There, in the moonlight near the tree that shaded the small garden he’d tried vainly to save, stood Mina.

  Hair the color of sunlit plains dipped to the nape of her neck. The angle of her arms as she braced herself against the tree defined the silken slenderness of a woman who valued physical activity. Moonlight shone on the lower half of her face, leaving her eyes in shadow. Yet he witnessed the moment she felt his gaze upon her, sensed that he was watching her.

  He wondered if he should turn away, pretend that she was mistaken in believing that he studied her. But just as it had been when she’d stepped off the train, the sight of Mina was far too compelling to look away. The nightdress she wore left little to his imagination, the wind buffeting the cream-colored linen against the curve of hips and generous swell of breasts that her pants and tunic had hidden so well. She looked like a ray of dawn shining through the darkness of the night.

  “Is that ye?”

  Her whisper beckoned him closer and he could do nothing but answer it with one of his own. “Do you need me?”

  Her quick intake of breath unnerved him, its intensity urging him to close the remaining distance between them and satisfy the craving to taste her lips. Blazes! Where had that come from, he wondered, passing it off as nothing more than the long drought he’d suffered in satisfying his body with the softness of a woman’s. But this was more than that. He’d known it from the first time he saw her. Sensed it was different than anything he’d ever felt before…even with Katie Rose. Briar knew if he took one step closer, he would be lost in the spell the night had woven, in the sound of the wafting wind, in the glow of moonlight and the shadows that promised to hide all longings. The compelling presence of this woman drew him as if she were rain needed to parch the desolation of his long forgotten dreams.

  She started back toward the house. Briar hurried to fall into step beside her, afraid she would go in, yet praying that she would so that this hunger growing within him would not reveal itself. He would surely frighten her. It sure as sin scared the hell out of him. “You’ve been crying.” He reached out to touch her. “Let me help.”

  Briar didn’t know what to offer, what more to say. She suddenly buried her face in his chest, anchoring her arms around his shoulders, holding on as if he were a lifeline.

  “Just hold me,” she whispered, molding against him.

  Briar’s body hardened as if bracing for the blast of a furnace. Her touch stirred sensations in him that were almost too overwhelming to contain. His knees threatened to buckle. “I need to take you inside.”

  “Aye,” she breathed.

  One hand locked beneath her arm, while the other lifted her into his embrace. Her breath fanned his neck with its ebb and flow while the scent of something floral drifted from her hair. She’d obviously borrowed some of Violet’s lavender soap. The image of her bathing in their tub coursed blood to every part of him.

  Sanity intruded, reminding him that he’d known her less than a day and he wasn’t the kind of man who took advantage of a woman’s vulnerability. Thankfully, she had left the door ajar. He nudged it open, searched the dark for one of the kitchen chairs, then sat. Mina continued to cry softly against him, her tears feeling like dew upon his chest.

  Finally, she stopped and unlinked her arms from around his neck. Her body jutted backward as she silently insisted upon standing. He gently released her. “Care to tell me what this is all about?”

  She stared at her bare feet, then back up at him in that disconcerting way she had of looking at him. “’Tis cry I do, when happiness fills me.”

  “Happiness?” If he lived to be a hundred years old, he’d never understand women. “You were crying because you’re happy?”

  She nodded and twirled around, opening her palms. “I have a job, a wee lass to take care of, and now this. A roof…walls…a home…if only for a while. A home has got to be the best place on earth, wouldn’t ye agree?”

  “Are you homeless, Miss McCoy?” Briar finally asked the one question he’d not quite found the nerve to bring up in their earlier conversations.

  “Mina,” she reminded. “Aye, that I am, sir. Does that make a difference to ye now? I would think ye’d expect anyone who hired on in such a capacity to be unattached to a dwelling.”

  “It makes no difference to me, Mina,” he assured her, though his mind was now made up about something else. He would not spend any more time looking for her a room. She would live in his home until Nathaniel returned.

  Nathaniel had telegraphed that he would be home tomorrow, but he often didn’t keep his word. And for the first time in months, he hoped Nathaniel didn’t hurry back.

  Chapter 6

  The scent of fresh, clean linen and the sound of a soft sigh woke Mina. The feel of the strong arms in her dream drifted away as if it were smoke carried on the wind. She wanted to chase after it, catch it, hold it to her as she did the keepsakes she often found along the roadway, but sleep spirited the treasure away into the saffron glow of dawn.

  The reality of a tinier, softer body nestling against Mina quelled the disturbing thoughts of just whose arms she’d been dreaming. She would leave that mulling for later, when she was alone.

  ’Tis not alone I am. The words sank in, filling her with a joy that warmed the tips of her toes and stretched her lips into a grin. She had slept in a comfortable bed, in a real home, and with no concern whatsoever to danger. Best of all, there was someone to wake up to. There could be no finer morning than this.

  Sometime during the night Violet had climbed under the covers alongside her. The sigh that Mina had thought was her own came from the child curled against her. She gently pressed a kiss atop the tiny head.

  “Am I awake, angel?” whispered Violet.

  “Not quite, lass.” Mina raised the lass’s chin to study her face. That poor little eye barely peeped open amid its circular bruise. “But ye’re working on it, ’tis certain.”

  “I just might have some trouble doing it right this morning.” Violet snuggled deeper into the covers.

  “And I think ye will not.” Mina threw back the quilt and tickled the child until Violet erupted into a fit of giggles. “Because I plan to help ye wake up. We have things to do, people to meet, and places to go. What do ye say to getting dressed and having some breakfast?”

  “I can help cook. Daddy lets me sometimes.” Violet unfurled and stood. “I’m pretty good at biscuits.”

  “I just bet ye are.” Images of the possible volatile combination of Violet, lard, and flour propelled Mina to stand, though she wished nothing more than to linger in the comfort of the bed. She needed to dress and arrive in the kitchen way ahead of little Miss Helper. “Do ye know what ye want to wear to church,” she urged, “or am I to make the choice for ye?”

  “You mean you’re gonna let me choose?” Excitement filled Violet’s tone as she rushed from the room.

  “Ye’re the one wearing the clothes, are ye not?” After all, her father had allowed her to dress herself for bed. Mina followed to make sure Violet did not venture toward the kitchen first.

  “I sure am. I knew an angel would understand.” Violet disappeared into her bedroom and shut the door.

  The child was up to something. Mina needed no celestial wisdom to understand that much.

  An hour and a half later, she was wishing for some heavenly intervention. But, of its own volition, her head kept turning to view Briar sitting beside her in the pew. Light shining through the stained glass windows made her aware of how he filled the church with his presence. The pews were packed, causing everyone to squeeze in closer to allow for the influx of visitors. His shoulders and thighs touc
hed hers, making it difficult for Mina to concentrate, much less listen to the sermon. He seemed to sense the exact moments she could not resist the impulse to look at him, his eyes mesmerizing her with their intensity as they turned to share those glances with her.

  Allowing Violet to choose her own church clothes was the first transgression she’d made this morning. But now it seemed she’d made yet another. A congregant with a broach-studded hat kept openly glaring at Mina. She most likely would not have noticed the woman’s glare, but the lady had no eyebrows. Had they been burned off and never grown back? Twin broaches amid a spray of silk chiffon garnished the hat’s brim, looking like pearl-studded substitutes for the missing brows.

  Mina wondered if she had committed some unknown sin that would cause the woman to want to exorcise her from the sanctuary.

  Mina didn’t plan on staying in Amarillo long enough to let anyone, much less High-Brow, intimidate her, for whatever reason. So when the woman thrust her double chins upward and looked disapprovingly at Mina again, Mina just smiled in return. It was far from the first time she’d been looked upon with disapproval. It certainly wouldn’t be the last time. Wonder what would happen if she informed everyone that the woman had obviously used some of that new French Harmless Hair Wave to curl and color her hair? The price paid for such a bougainvillea-colored nest of curls would feed an overcrowded orphanage for six months or more. Could anything she have committed be worse than spending more than a thousand dollars on a permanent wave? High-Brow best loosen her curls a wee bit, if she knew what was good for her.

  Finally, the service ended. With relief Mina stood, glad to put distance between herself and Briar. Waking up in his room and knowing he usually slept in the bed she’d found so appealing had been difficult enough to forget. Remembering how it felt in his arms last night and touching his thigh during the service had only kindled the fire of attraction that skittered along her senses like she was taking on a second skin. Mina gently reached for Violet’s hand, but the lass pulled away instantly and tugged on her father’s pant leg.

  “Daddy, can we go now, please? I really need to go. Now.”

  “Hold your britches, pumpkin,” he announced then shot Mina a stern expression. “Seems kind of appropriate, doesn’t it, Miss McCoy?”

  Mina shrugged, glad she’d chosen to wear her riding skirt rather than her trousers. “’Tis sorry I am, if I may say it again. She wanted to dress herself and ye let her do so for bed. I saw no wrong in allowing Violet to do the same a second time.”

  Briar took his daughter’s hand. “I can’t blame you too much, I suppose, when it’s my own fault that I indulge her. If it hadn’t taken so long waiting for the surrey, I could have picked you up sooner and given her time to change.”

  “The britches will go back in the drawer…unless ye say they can come out again. True, lass?”

  “Okay,” she said too agreeably, “but can we go now?”

  “We will after Mina has a chance to meet some of our friends.” Briar watched the other children gathering with the McCord family. All of the children appeared more jubilant than usual. “Today is the hayride out to the breaks, isn’t it?” His brow furrowed. “I didn’t remember that when I made plans for us this morning.”

  “Can I go, Daddy, please? You said I could last week and everybody’s going.”

  She rattled off some of the ragtime language Mina had heard back East, and one of the boys answered back. Mina shook her finger at the pair of them. “Ye’ll be wanting to make sure none of them tadpoles swim in the punch, me precious darlings, or ye’ll be too sore to sit yer bottoms to a pew next Sunday.”

  Briar glanced from his daughter to Mina. “You know what they’re saying?”

  “’Tis jive or rag talk and little else. Have ye no ear for it here in Texas?”

  “Apparently some of us Texans do.” Briar frowned at his daughter. “What’s this about tadpoles in the punch?”

  “It wasn’t gonna be me, Daddy, I promise. I knew about it, but I wasn’t gonna do it this time.”

  “Have you considered it before? No, don’t answer that. I don’t really want to know.” He shot Mina a look of gratitude. “It’s a good thing you know jive or jag or rag or whatever it is she called it.”

  “I know seven other languages as well, and a few twists of the English version, I assure ye.”

  Surprise etched Briar’s expression. “You’ll have to tell me how you came about developing that talent, Miss McCoy, but for now I guess I better decide whether or not I’m going to let her go with the others. What do you think?”

  She couldn’t deny the lass a chance to be with other children and have fun, even if it meant putting off time spent between Violet and her father. “I say a hayride might be just the thing to practice her social skills.”

  “Well, her clothes fit the purpose, don’t they? Can’t say the choice had anything to do with remembering the hayride, though, can we?”

  “No, sir,” Violet admitted. “But I promise I’ll wear a dress next time.”

  He ruffled his daughter’s hair. “All right, you can go, but only if you follow the McCords’s instructions to the letter and stay in eyesight of an adult. Remember what almost happened yesterday with that car. And I better not hear you gave anyone—boy, girl, or adult—any trouble.”

  “I’ll be careful, I promise.”

  “Am I to go along with her?” Mina started to nudge past him.

  “No, there will be plenty of chaperones. They’ve had this planned for weeks. So it seems you’ve been given a reprieve. Maybe there’s something you would like to do, some place you’d like to visit in town while you have some time to yourself?”

  His gaze averted to those leaving the sanctuary and she wondered if he wanted to go with his daughter and felt an obligation to entertain her as his guest. Well she wasn’t his guest. She was his employee. “I can find something to do on my own.”

  “That won’t be necessary, unless you just prefer being alone.”

  Alone was the last thing she wanted to be again. She’d had enough of “alone” for a lifetime. “What will ye do until she returns?” Mina asked, not wanting him to see how much his company had already come to mean to her.

  “I usually take part of Sunday morning off so we can go to church, but today I asked Sam—you’ll get to know him soon—to stay a little longer than usual so I could show you some of the town. I’ve got the rig until noon if you’d like me to take you somewhere particular.”

  Before she could answer, the woman with the pearl-studded brows and double chins waddled up beside him. “Good morning, Mr. Duncan. I assume this is Violet’s new governess. I’d like to talk to you about what your daughter did yesterday.”

  “Gotta go. See ya.” Violet rushed to join the others.

  So, ’twas the lass and not meself ye were oogling all sermon, Mina decided once she heard the reprimand in the woman’s tone. Mina glanced at Violet who now blatantly peeped from behind one of the pews to see what transpired between the congregant and her father. Innocence did not play well upon the child’s features this morning.

  Nonetheless, whatever the blessed lass had done to irk the woman, it served her no purpose to attack Violet full brow. Best loosen those clips, High-Brow, Mina warned silently as she abruptly faced the woman once again, or those pearl studs will be plowing new paths in those wavy, red roots. “Aye, that I am her new governess, madam. And I can assure ye Violet will be no trouble to ye again. She has asked that I express her sincerest apology for yesterday and begs ye to understand that she must be on her way with the others and canna tell ye herself.”

  “May I offer my own personal apologies, Mrs. Humphrey,” Briar joined in. “And, of course, I will be glad to repay any damage you might have incurred because of my daughter’s antics.”

  Mina glared at the woman, daring her to demand anything more from Briar than an apology. It may have been his fault Violet got away with whatever she did, but Violet needed to be the one to make amen
ds or she’d never learn where to draw the line between prank and harm.

  High-Brow must have thought she could exact any price from Duncan. She seemed to grow uneasy in Mina’s presence, pressing a laced handkerchief to her forehead, daubing away a bead of perspiration that had a pinkish tint in its dew.

  “Just see to it that she has appropriate guidance from now on and that will be repayment enough.” She nodded at Mina. “We do hope you’ll stay a long time with our community, Miss—? I don’t believe I caught your name.”

  Mina swapped names with her.

  “Do stay as long as you can, Miss McCoy. I’m sure Violet will benefit greatly from your teachings.”

  “My intention completely, mum.”

  Mavis Harper Humphrey was just the first of many names Mina learned in the ensuing bevy of introductions. By the time the sanctuary was empty, she had met so many people she thought she would never get their names straight. Still, none of them were the right name or the treasured face that she searched for any time she met someone’s gaze.

  The headmistress at the Lady’s School where she had worked called her frank study of faces unladylike. Arrogant. Mina had said it was nothing more than curiosity and the need to search for resemblance to her own features. No woman here looked anything like Mina. No chance that any of them were her mother. After a while, she had grown tired of the disappointment and waited quietly for Briar to finish his discussion with the minister.

  “You seem lost in thought.” A voice stirred her from her reverie. Briar grabbed his hat from the rack where others were stored during services.

  “I was thinking about where I would like to be taken,” she fibbed. To me mother, she wished, then decided she might yet be speaking the truth if circumstances proved such. “To the graveyard, if ye have time.”

  “The graveyard?” Briar busied himself with walking her down the steps and getting her settled into the surrey. He commanded the horse into action and they were long past town before he spoke again. “Do you mean Boot Hill at Tascosa or the one closer to Amarillo?”