Page 35 of Texas Glory
“Oh, thank you. I’ll only be a moment.”
He stepped into the doorway as she hurried to the bureau and tore a piece of paper from a book. He supposed she kept a journal. He knew so little about her, but he discovered he liked the shape of her backside when she bent over and began to write on the piece of paper. She straightened and turned sooner than he would have preferred. Hesitantly, she held the paper toward him. He took it from her.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He hated her gratitude as well. He stalked from the house and crossed the yard to where a young man was waiting beside the wagon. He extended the slip of paper toward Pete. “Need you to pick these up for my wife.”
Pete dropped his gaze and started kicking the ground with the toe of his boot.
“Come on, boy, I ain’t got all day.” Dallas shook the list under his nose. “Take the list and git.”
Pete looked up, his freckled face redder than the hair that his hat covered. “I can’t read.”
“What do you mean you can’t read? I give you a list every week, and you take it into town and pick up my supplies.”
Pete shifted his stance. “Nah, sir. Cookie reads the list to me. I remember everything on the list, but I didn’t know you were gonna have another list for me, and Cookie’s gone out with the herd today, but you can tell me what she wrote and I’ll remember it. I got a good memory.”
Dallas figured over half his men probably couldn’t read. They were smart men he could depend on to get the job done, and that job seldom required reading. His son would need a tutor if the town didn’t have a school in a few years. Dallas would see to it that the tutor also taught any of his men who wanted to learn. Meanwhile, they’d do the best job they could with what they had.
Dallas unfolded Cordelia’s list and stared at the singe word she’d written.
Pete cleared his throat. “You don’t read neither?”
Dallas met the young man’s earnest gaze. “No, I read just fine, but this is something I’ll need to take care of myself. You go on to town and get the supplies I need.”
“Yes, sir.”
Not until Pete had climbed on the wagon and started to roll toward town did Dallas dare to look at his wife’s list again. He shook his head in bewilderment, wondering if he’d ever understand how a woman’s mind worked, convinced he’d never understand his wife.
He headed into the house, searching through every room, certain she wouldn’t still be in her bedroom. She’d been dressed when he’d knocked on her door earlier. Surely she didn’t stay in the bedroom all day.
But when he knocked on her bedroom door, she opened it as hesitantly as she always did. He held up her list. “Flowers? You wanted my man to go into town and purchase you some flowers?”
She blinked, clutching her hands before her. “I was thinking he could pick them on his way back to the ranch.”
“Why can’t you pick them?”
Her brown eyes widened with alarm. “They’re outside.”
“I know where flowers are.”
“I’m not allowed outside. The dangers—”
“Jesus Christ! Were you a prisoner in your father’s house?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “In Kansas, I cared for my mother. Here … here, my father thought it was in my best interest to stay inside. He said there were dangers. Renegades. Outlaws. A woman wasn’t safe.”
Dallas repeatedly swept his thumb and forefinger over his mustache, trying to make sense out of what she had just said. “Have you been staying in this room all day?”
She nodded. “Is there another room I should stay in?”
He slammed his eyes closed. She wasn’t just afraid of him. She was afraid of everything. Good Lord, could he have married a woman who was more opposite than he was?
Heaving a sigh, he opened his eyes. “You don’t have to stay in any room. You don’t have to stay in the house. If you want flowers, go out and pick them.”
She looked aghast. “But the dangers—”
“I’m not leaving you alone here. My men are about. If you need them all you have to do is holler. They’ll be by your side before your mouth closes, so go get your flowers.”
