Page 61 of Texas Glory
Dallas shook his head. No doubt another one of Amelia’s games. The woman had more games than a tree had leaves.
Dallas smiled as Maggie and Houston got sent back to the rope. Houston lifted his daughter onto his shoulders.
Cordelia turned her back, and Austin’s legs churned faster than the blades of a windmill when a norther blew through. Dallas clamped his teeth together to stop himself from yelling a warning.
Cordelia spun around too late. Austin scooped her off the ground. Dallas’s chest tightened as she threw her arms around Austin’s neck and laughed. Austin twirled her around, his laughter mingling with hers.
Maggie yelled that she wanted to play again. Austin set Cordelia on her feet. She glanced toward the house and her gaze slammed into Dallas’s, her smile withering like all the flowers he’d pulled for her over the week and never given her. Dallas turned away and walked to the other side of the room, wondering when he’d grown so old.
A few minutes later he heard the footsteps on the stairs—the stairs he’d built that morning. He couldn’t fault Houston. If he had a wife who looked at him the way Amelia did and a daughter who adored him, he wouldn’t be up here pounding nails into wood either.
“I thought you might like some lemonade.”
He glanced up at Cordelia. She stood uncertainly in the doorway, holding a glass. He crossed the short space separating them, took the glass, and downed the drink in one long swallow. He handed the glass back to her. “Thanks.”
He walked back to his corner, lined up the board, and hammered the nail into place.
“You put me to shame,” she said softly.
Furrowing his brow, he glanced over his shoulder. “Why?”
She walked across the floorboards he’d already nailed into place and knelt beside him. “I have a clearer understanding of how you spend your days now. All week long you manage a ranch, you oversee the building of a town, and on what should be a day of rest, you’re building an addition onto your brother’s house while I’m playing silly games and purchasing rugs—”
“I like the rugs.”
She tilted her head sideways. “Do you?”
He regretted that he hadn’t mentioned it earlier. “Yeah, I do. I like the quilt you hung on the wall in the parlor and those curtains.”
“I thought they made the room seem more cozy. I’ve ordered some furniture for the parlor.”
“Good.”
Since the night she had first begun to read to him and the day he had first started explaining the managing of the ranch to her, the wariness had slowed faded from her eyes. She watched him now with no fear. He considered leaning over and kissing her, but he discovered that it wasn’t enough that the fear had left. He wanted to see a warmth reflected in her gaze when she looked at him. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her.
A damn foolish thing to desire.
She dropped her gaze and scraped her fingernail over the nail he had just hammered into place. “Is it hard to build a floor?” she asked.
“Nope.” He extended the hammer toward her. “Do you want to do it?”
A sparkle lit her eyes. “Can I?”
“Sure.”
She took the hammer, and he handed her a nail.
“You want the nail to go through the top board and dig into the beam running lengthwise. That holds it in place. Keep your eye on the nail and tap gently.”
“It always sounds like you hit the nail hard.”
“I have experience behind me so I’m less likely to hit my thumb.”
“Oh.”
He watched with amusement as she set the nail in place and gripped the hammer. Her brows came together to form a deep furrow. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.
He swallowed, remembering the feel of that lip against his.
