Page 57 of Texas Glory
She watched him walk away. She could tell from his stance that he was listening intently as Tyler prattled.
Why had it hurt so much when he’d mentioned his ladies with such affection? Why was she relieved to discover he had been visiting windmills?
She began strolling toward the horses tethered to the hitching post in front of the general store. She had erupted with anger and instead of retaliating, he had told her to get mad more often. She decided his suggestion might have some merit. She had found the burst of fury … emancipating.
Standing on the balcony outside her bedroom, Cordelia stared at the night. She heard the steady clack of the nearby windmill—one of Dallas’s ladies.
He was so unlike her father, her brothers. He angered easily, the rage flashing within his dark eyes, but he kept his temper tethered.
Where the men in her family concerned themselves only with their wants and needs, Dallas broadened his horizons to include others. People were coming to his town because he gave them a chance to share in a corner of his dream, and in sharing, his dream would grow.
She was certain Boyd would have referred to his actions as selfish and greedy, but how could she fault Dallas Leigh with wanting to build a future for his sons … a future grander than anything she had ever dared to dream?
A town. A community. A community of men.
She frowned, surprised to discover that she wanted a part of his dream as well. She wanted to accomplish what he had yet to achieve. She wanted to find a way to lure women to Leighton.
She didn’t see her husband standing by the corral. She hadn’t heard his footsteps echoing along the hallway.
She wondered where he was—if he was in his office. If the two books he’d purchased were waiting there as well.
She didn’t want to fear Dallas, but more she didn’t want to be dependent on him. She had once coveted freedom, but now she realized without independence, freedom didn’t exist. The first step toward independence was conquering her fear.
She walked into her bedroom and retrieved the book she had borrowed from him—The Practical Husbandman.
She remembered the depth of his laughter, that night and this afternoon. The spontaneity of it. The way it had reached out and struck a corresponding chord deep within her.
Holding the lamp, she made her way to Dallas’s office. She saw the light spilling out from beneath the door and almost changed her mind. Instead, she forced herself to knock.
“Come in,” boomed from the other side.
Her heart quickened. She took a trembling breath and opened the door. Dallas sat at his desk, the ledgers spread out before him. He came to his feet.
“Oh, no, don’t get up,” she said as she slipped into the room. “I just wanted to return your book.”
“Fine.”
She took a step closer to the shelves. “Do you always work on your ledgers late at night?”
“Usually.”
She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry, her determination withering. “My father … my father works on his books during the afternoon.”
“He has three sons to watch his spread. I only have me.”
“And Austin.”
“It’s not his responsibility. Someday, he’ll figure out what he wants from life and he’ll leave.”
When Austin left, she’d be alone with this man. This man who wanted sons.
“Please don’t let me disturb you.” She held up the book. “I’ll just put this back.”
He sat and she hurried across the room. She slipped the book into place, then she trailed her fingers over one of the new books on the shelf:A Tale of Two Cities.
She glanced at Dallas. He was writing in his ledger as though her presence made no difference to him … and yet, he also seemed to be waiting.
She took the book off the shelf. “I’ve never readA Tale of Two Cities,”she said quietly.
