Lorraine Heath (13 page)

She had laid three quilts around a wooden box. Amelia had set platters of beefsteak strips and potatoes on the box, plates and utensils on the quilts.

Amelia sat on one quilt. Houston dropped beside her, Maggie nestled in his arms. “Looks good,” he said.

Cordelia knew it was pointless to hope that Austin would sit on the quilt beside her, but she found herself wishing anyway. He gave her a smile before he took his place on the opposite quilt.

On the small quilt, Dallas seemed incredibly large as he sat beside her.

“This isn’t one of my cows, is it?” Dallas asked.

Houston smiled. “Probably. He wandered onto my land. What was I supposed to do?”

“Send him home.”

“Not on your life.”

Austin held out his arm. “Will you lookee here? I’m the only one without a woman to share my quilt. Maggie May, come sit with me.”

Her face bright with excitement, Maggie jumped up, crossed the small area, and rammed into Austin. Hissing sharply, Austin moved her aside with his good arm.

Houston snatched his daughter back into his arms. “You all right?” he asked Austin.

Austin had paled considerably, but he nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Sorry,” Maggie said, her bottom lip trembling.

He smiled. “It’s all right, sweetie. I’m still a little sore.” He patted his thigh. “Just come sit beside me, not on me, all right?”

Ever so carefully and slowly, she crawled over the quilt and sat beside him.

“What happened to your arm?” Cordelia asked.

A hush fell over the gathering as everyone looked at Cordelia. The heat rushed to her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to ask before.”

Austin appeared uncomfortable as he answered, “I got shot.”

“Dear Lord. Outlaws?” she asked, horrified at the thought.

“Cattle rustlers,” Dallas said as he slapped potatoes onto his plate. “But they won’t be bothering us anymore.”

“I’m grateful to hear that,” Cordelia said. She cut her meat into tiny pieces, eating sparingly.

“You don’t eat enough to keep a bird alive,” Dallas said.

She glanced up to find him glaring at her plate, his brow deeply furrowed. She couldn’t very well tell him that whenever he was around her stomach knotted up so tightly that she could barely swallow.

“I’ve never been a big eater,” she said quietly and dropped her gaze to her plate.

“Guess I’m just used to watching men eat,” Dallas said gruffly.

“I never eat as much as my brothers,” she said.

A desperate silence surrounded them. Cordelia wished she could think of something—anything—to say.

“When do you think the railroad will get here?” Amelia asked.

Dallas reached for more potatoes. “Sometime next year.”

“Things should change then,” Amelia said quietly.

“Reckon they will. With any luck, Leighton will start growing as fast as Abilene. I’ll be wanting to build a school. Do you want to be in charge of finding a good teacher?” Dallas asked.

Amelia smiled. “I’d love to. Besides, I have experience at placing advertisements, and we’ll definitely want someone from the East.”

“Give me a list of everything you’ll need so I can tally up the costs before I go talk to Mr. Henderson at the bank.”

Amelia leaned forward and took Cordelia’s hand. “Dee, would you like to help me?”

Cordelia glanced at Dallas. He was studying her as though waiting for her answer. Surely if he had wanted her to help, he would have suggested it.

“I don’t know anything about schools. I had a tutor.”

“Then we’ll learn together,” Amelia said.

Cordelia shook her head. “No, I don’t think I can—”

“Our son will do his learning at this school,” Dallas said. “You ought to have a say in it.”

Cordelia nodded quickly. “All right, then, I will.”

“Good,” Dallas said brusquely.

Amelia squeezed Cordelia’s hand. “It’ll be fun.”

Yes, she imagined it would be, and it would give her something to do besides wash dishes and clothes. Dallas and Austin were seldom inside the house and maintaining it required so little of her time that she thought she could quite possibly go insane.

The conversation turned to other aspects of Leighton, but it made little sense to Cordelia. She had not visited the town since the day the land had been set aside. She’d asked several times for someone to take her, but none of her brothers had ever had time. She had always thought it would be exciting to watch something grow from nothing … like watching a child grow into an adult.

Her husband had planted the seeds for the town the day he had set aside the land. She remembered that Boyd had called him a greedy bastard that day … one of the nicer names he had for Dallas. She knew little about business, but she didn’t see how a school or the church he’d offered to build for Reverend Tucker would bring him much money.

As a matter of fact, in the short time she had been his wife, she had seen no evidence of his greed except for the morning he’d refused to pull his fence back if she left him. But even then, he had gained nothing but a reluctant wife while her family gained access to the river. Eventually, he would gain a son while her family would gain land.

She was beginning to think that Dallas hid his greedy nature well … so well that she wondered how Boyd had ever discovered it to begin with.

“The new addition to the house seems to be coming along fine,” Amelia said, shifting the conversation away from talk of Leighton.

“Ought to have the first floor and most of the walls in place before nightfall,” Dallas said.

“It means a lot to me that you and Austin would give up your day of rest to build onto our house.”

“That’s what family is for,” Dallas said.

“But we won’t be able to return the favor. I can’t imagine that you’ll ever need to add onto your house.”

“Speaking of Dallas’s house,” Austin said. “Dee, what do you think of it?”

Cordelia snapped her gaze to Austin, then to Dallas who watched her with such intensity that her breath almost stopped. Meaningless words scrambled through her mind.

“We need to get back to work,” Dallas said, setting his empty plate on the quilt.

Houston groaned and rubbed his stomach. “I’m too full. I intend to sit back and relax for a while.”

“Thought you wanted these rooms,” Dallas said.

“We do, but we can finish them up next Sunday.”

“It’ll be that much hotter next Sunday,” Dallas said as he stood. “I’m going back to work.”

Cordelia watched her husband jerk his shirt over his head as he stomped back toward the house.

“One day, Austin, you’re gonna learn when to keep your mouth shut,” Houston said.

Dallas hefted a board and carried it to the far side of the house. He’d grown tired of hammering the floor into place. Houston and Austin could finish it when they woke from their naps. They’d both fallen asleep beneath the scraggly boughs of the tree—Houston with his head nestled in Amelia’s lap, Austin with Maggie curled up against him.

Cordelia simply sat in the shade, her hands folded in her lap—looking beautiful.

He wondered if she’d given everyone, except him, permission to call her Dee. Not that he had asked … nor would he, but Dee sure rolled off his tongue a lot easier than Cordelia. He thought Dee suited her better, was softer.

He set the board upright against the side of the house and nailed it into place. Sweat rolled along either side of his spine. He was looking forward to a good hot bath this evening.

He set another board into place and began to pound the nails into the wood.

A good hot bath in his house. In his big house.

He spun around and froze. Cordelia stood beside him, holding a ladle of water. Fear plunged into her eyes.

“Amelia thought you might be thirsty.”

“Not very neighborly of her to send you into the lion’s den, but I appreciate the water.”

He took the dipper from her trembling hand and downed the clear liquid in one long swallow. His gaze riveted on hers, he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth before handing the dipper back to her. “Thanks.”

He lifted another board and set it against the frame.

“About your house—” she began.

“I’ll build you another one,” he said as he lined up the board. “Makes no difference to me.”

“Actually, I rather like it.”

He glanced over his shoulder. She was gripping the ladle tightly enough to make her knuckles turn white. “You do?”

She nodded jerkily. “Uh, I think it’s a bit stark … uh, I mean, I think it would seem more friendly if you had some decorations—”

“You mean like knickknacks?”

“And perhaps some paintings or wall hangings. Maybe a flower bed in the front. I could give you a list of ideas—”

“No need. Just do it.” He crouched and set a nail against the board.

“What if you don’t like what I do?”

“Apparently my taste in things isn’t to everyone’s liking.” He hit the nail. “I’ll trust your judgment. I’ve got a Montgomery Ward catalogue in my office. Order what you need from there or go to Oliver’s general store and get it from him.”

Standing to position another nail, he looked over his shoulder, expecting her to comment, but she was staring, eyes wide, at the area where they’d eaten their meal. Dallas peered around the edge of the board. Houston had apparently woken from his nap, angled his body over his wife’s, and was enjoying his dessert: Amelia’s sweet lips.

“It’s not polite to stare,” Dallas said as he pounded another nail into place.

“But they’re … they’re …”

“Kissing,” Dallas said. “They’re just kissing.”

Cordelia turned away, her face red. “But they’re so close to each other.”

“It’s more fun that way. Didn’t that book you borrowed tell you that?”

He didn’t think her blush could grow any deeper, but it did.

“That book is misnamed,” she said in a hushed whisper as though afraid someone might hear. “It has nothing at all to do with being a husband.”

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “But it has everything to do with husbandry.”

Confusion clouded her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“Husbandry is a polite word for breeding and taking care of livestock.”

“You might have explained that to me before I took it.”

He shrugged. “You married a rancher. Figured it wouldn’t hurt for you to read the book. It’ll give us something to discuss at dinner.”

Her eyes widened. “We wouldn’t!”

His smile thinned until it disappeared into a hardened line. “Not if you can think of something else to talk about during our meals. I’m getting tired of eating in silence. If I wanted that, I’d stay out on the range and eat.”

“I didn’t realize you wanted to talk while we ate. At home, I wasn’t allowed to speak during meals.”

“Seems your pa and mine had the same attitude: children were to be seen and not heard, but you’re not a child any longer.”

“No, women … women were to be seen and not heard.”

Dallas shook his head in disbelief. “I spend all day listening to bawling cattle and the rough voices of men. In the evening, I’d like to hear the soft voice of a woman.”

“I’ll … I’ll try to think of something we can discuss during meals.”

“Good.” He turned back to his task. “Before we leave, you need to tell Houston to let you pick out a horse. Beauty belongs to Maggie. Reckon it’s time we stopped borrowing her.”

With the early evening shadows moving in, Dallas leaned against the wooden beam of Houston’s front porch and stared at Cordelia, standing at the corral, talking with his brother. Talking, smiling, occasionally laughing.

He’d never before heard her sweet laughter. It sounded as innocent as she was.

“Would you like something to drink?” Amelia asked him.

Without taking his eyes off his wife, Dallas wrapped his fingers around the glass of lemonade Amelia offered. “My brother seems to have become quite the ladies’ man.”

“He’s not a threat to her,” Amelia said softly.

Dallas jerked his head around. “And you think I am?”

“She
thinks you are.”

“Christ, I don’t know how she can think that. I haven’t touched her since the day I married her.”

“How often have you called her by name since you were married?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You’ve been here since dawn, and never once did I hear you speak her name. A woman likes to hear her name from time to time.”

“Her name gets tangled in my tongue.”

“Her name isn’t that much different from mine, and you never have any trouble with it.”

“It’s a hell of a lot different. Your name is soft. Her name is … hard … like a stack of wood.”

“I like her name.”

“Well, I don’t.”

She hit his arm, and the lemonade sloshed over the glass onto his hand. He stepped back. “Goddamm it!”

She hit him again. “Then call her something else.”

“Like what?”

“Sugar bunch.”

He grimaced.

“Sweetheart, darlin’.”

“I can’t see words like that rolling off my tongue.”

“Then find a word that will, but call her something.”

“Why? She’s never said my name either.”

“You’re acting like a two-year-old.”

He felt like a fool, watching his wife with another man, looking as though she was enjoying herself when she’d never enjoyed a single moment of his company.

Amelia rubbed his arm. “I’m sorry. It’s really none of my business. I just want to see you happy.”

“I will be as soon as I get my son.”

A sadness washed over her features. “Is a son so important to you?”

“Yes. It’s the only unfulfilled dream I have left.”

“Why did you have love and cherish removed from your marriage vows?”

He shifted his gaze to the glass of lemonade, the truth as bitter as the drink in his hand. “I’m not an easy man, Amelia. I know that. Love isn’t something she’s likely to give me. Didn’t see any point in asking her to take a vow she couldn’t keep.” He handed the glass back to her. “We need to get going before darkness settles in.” He stepped off the porch.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” she said softly.

With a sad smile, he glanced back at her. “Seems I gave myself too much. If I told her she could leave and I’d still keep my fence pulled back, she’d be gone before the first star came out.”