Page 135 of Texas Glory
“He has a hell of a way of taking care of it. Prison, for God’s sake.”
Dallas walked stiffly across the room, jerked the drapes down, shoved open the door, and stepped onto the balcony. He took a breath of fresh air, fighting off the pain and nausea. He thought his back had been in agony, but the hurt didn’t compare to the anguish ripping through his heart.
“There really was nothing we could do,” Houston said quietly from behind him. “The judge was lenient with his sentence because of the antagonism that existed between the two families.”
Dallas flung his arm in a wide circle. “Look out there. I own it. Every goddamn acre, but it didn’t stop my son from dying. It didn’t stop someone from abducting my wife. It didn’t stop Austin from going to prison for a murder he didn’t commit. What the hell good is it?” He bowed his head. “I want to see him, Houston.”
“I know you do, but he’d rather you didn’t. I know we raised him, and it’s hard to see him as anything but our baby brother, but he’s a man now. He knew what it would cost him if he held his silence, and he was willing to pay the price. All we can do now is give him a place to come home to.”
“What in the hell did he think he was doing?”
“Reckon he thought he was following in our footsteps, doing whatever it took to protect the woman he loves.”
Cordelia waited until Dallas’s strength returned, until his wounds had healed enough that he could wear a shirt and effectively manage the affairs of his ranch.
Taking a deep breath of fortitude, Cordelia rapped her knuckles on the door to Dallas’s office. Her courage faltered when his voice rang out, bidding her to enter.
She would never again step into this room, never again hear his voice booming on the other side. Even as she opened the door, he smiled as he came to his feet. Always the gentleman. Always the man she would love.
She crossed the room as quickly as she could, clutching her hands together. Dallas tapped his pencil on her meticulous notes.
“You took care of a lot of loose ends while I was … recovering.”
“I tried to manage things as I thought you might. Your men were most helpful.” She took a step closer. “Dallas, I’ve given our situation a great deal of thought—”
“Our situation?”
Her mouth went dry, and she wished she had brought a glass of water into the room with her. “Yes, our situation. Our marriage was one of convenience. The reasons holding it together no longer exist. My family does not deserve, nor will they gain the right to hold your land as their own. And I can’t give you a son.”
He tossed his pencil onto his ledgers. “Dee—”
“I think we should petition for a divorce,” she stated quickly, flatly, before her resolve melted away like a solitary snowflake.
“A divorce? Is that what you want?”
She forced herself to keep her gaze focused on the disbelief mirrored in his eyes, knowing it was the only way he would believe her. “I think it would be best for both of us.”
He walked to the window and gazed out over his land. “Do you know what life is like for a grass widow?” he asked, his voice low. Turning, he met her gaze. “No matter what reasons we give, people will question your morals, not mine. They’ll blame the failure of our marriage on you, not me. Your prospects for building another business, for finding another husband, will dwindle—”
“Then I’ll move to another town, where no one knows me. As long as men continue to lay rails for the trains, towns will flourish along the tracks and hotels will be in demand.”
“You’re looking at years of hardship—”
“A year ago the thought would have terrified me.” Tears rose, and she fought them back. “But I’m a stronger person for having been your wife.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “You were always strong, Dee. You just didn’t know it.”
At this moment she felt incredibly weak. She wanted to cross the expanse separating them and let him enfold her in his embrace. Instead, she tilted her chin. “I’ll leave in the morning.”
“Fine.” He turned away from her. “If that’s what you want.”
She didn’t want it, but life gave her no choice, not even the illusion of a choice. She wanted Dallas to be happy, and he would never be happy if she stayed by his side.
“About Rawley. I thought it would be best for him if he could stay here.”
“I’ve got no problem with that. He’s already drawing wages.”
“I’ll explain things to him then before I leave. Will I see you in the morning?”
