Page 49 of Texas Glory
She angled her head as though she didn’t quite believe him and wanted to figure out exactly what he had been thinking. He shoved his sweating hands into his trouser pockets. “Why does he call you Dee?”
“When he was a baby, Cordelia was too hard for him, so he just started calling me Dee. I never liked Cordelia but we don’t get to choose our names … or our families.”
He imagined in the last week, she’d learned more about her family than she’d care to know. Houston had told him what he’d overheard in Dallas’s office, and it had taken every bit of restraint Dallas could muster not to pay the McQueens a visit. He’d cursed Houston long and hard for making him give his word he’d pretend he didn’t know what had transpired before Houston had ever told him what had.
“I heard Austin and Amelia call you Dee. I could call you that if you want.”
“I’d like that.”
“Fine. I’ll see about putting two D’s on our brand.”
She tilted her face toward the stars. “What happens to your men when they get married?”
Like the length of her body, her throat was long and slender. He stepped closer to the corral and rested his elbow on the top railing so he could see her more clearly. “They don’t get married.”
“Never?”
“Not a ranch hand. If a man wants a family, he’s gotta save up his pay, purchase some land, and start his own spread so he’s got a place for his family to live.”
“Doesn’t that seem sad to you?”
“Never thought much about it. That’s just the way it is. A cowboy knows that from the beginning.”
She seemed to contemplate his answer. He wished he knew what she was thinking, wished he knew what she would do if he put a foot on the railing, cupped her fragile face in his wide hands, and kissed her.
He had the right—
She diverted her attention away from the stars. “Austin is going to town in the morning. Can I go with him?”
He ignored the jab to his pride because she preferred to travel into town with his brother. He would have happily taken her if he’d known she wanted to go. “You’re not a prisoner here. You can do anything you want. You don’t have to ask my permission.”
“I can doanything?”she asked.
“You can’t move back home,” he quickly answered, certain her thoughts were about to head in that direction.
She jerked her chin up slightly, almost defiantly. “You claim to give me freedom, but then you limit the choices, which takes away the freedom.”
She stepped off the railing. “Thank you for giving me permission to leave with Austin tomorrow.”
She strolled away. He wanted to grab her braid, wrap it around his hand until he’d brought her face even with his … and kiss her until neither one of them had any choices.
Studying the words she’d written before she’d gone to sleep last night, Cordelia slowly chewed on the biscuit. She knew freedom was an illusion. She could come and go as she pleased as long as she didn’t go where she wanted—someplace where she could cast her own shadow.
Still, she intended to enjoy the day. Even Dallas’s apparent lack of interest in her topics wasn’t going to spoil her mood. She glanced up from her notes. “Why do you suppose the leaves change color in autumn?”
With his egg-laden fork halfway to his mouth, Dallas stilled. “Because they die.”
“I see.” She looked at Austin. “Are you of the same sentiment?”
Peering at her over the brim of his cup, steam rising from the coffee, humor in his eyes, he nodded.
She returned her attention to her list. She had been incredibly pleased with herself last night for walking to the corral to ask Dallas for permission to ride to town with Austin. Of course, Austin had shoved her out the door and locked it, forcing her to find the courage to face her husband, but still she had found it. eventually.
“What is your favorite color?”
“Brown.”
She lifted her gaze. “Brown? Of all the colors in the world, why do you like brown?”
