Page 101 of Texas Destiny
“Good. Now see after those horses.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dallas!”
Amelia’s cry had Dallas charging around the corner of the house and bursting through the door, Austin hot on his heels. His heart slammed against his ribs at the panic reflected in her eyes.
“Houston started thrashing, calling for you. He’s going to tear open his wound.”
“God damn it. Austin, fetch me a rope.” He strode to the bed and grabbed one of Houston’s flailing arms. “Be still, God damn it.”
Houston latched onto his shirt, pulling him down. “Dallas, I’m scared.”
Dallas would have sworn he was meeting the gaze of a fifteen-year-old boy. “Don’t be,” he rasped. “I won’t let nothing happen to you.”
“Swear?”
Dallas swallowed hard. “Give you my word.” Houston loosened his hold and sank back into oblivion.
Austin burst through the door. “I got the rope.”
“We don’t need it now,” Dallas said quietly. He lifted his gaze to Amelia’s.
“You were both back at the war,” she said softly.
“The night before he was wounded. You think he would have asked for my word if he had known my keeping it would give him the life he’s had all these years?”
“You should ask him. You might be surprised by what he thinks.”
“I’d rather not know.”
It was near midnight when Amelia shook Dallas’s shoulder to wake him. “He’s shaking, and I can’t find any more blankets.”
Dallas looked toward the bed. Shaking? Houston was trembling as though someone had thrown him into an icy river. “Hell, he hasn’t a goddamn thing around here.”
He bolted out of the chair and nudged Austin’s foot. Disoriented, Austin opened his eyes and stared at him.
“‘Ride home and gather up all the blankets you can. I’ll get some wood, build up the fire, and see if we can warm him that way.”
He followed Austin out the door and headed for the wood pile. Thank God, Houston had wood. The man’s Spartan life was starting to wear thin.
He gathered into his arms as much wood as he could carry and stormed back toward the house. He shoved open the door, stepped inside, and came to a dead stop.
Houston was no longer trembling. He lay perfectly still, his face a reflection of contentment.
He no longer needed a fire or blankets for warmth. Amelia, curled against his side asleep, was giving him all the warmth he needed.
Amelia awoke drenched in sweat, Houston’s sweat. A blanket had been tucked around her. Lifting her head, she searched the room until her gaze fell on Dallas as he sat in the shadows beside the bed.
“He was cold,” she stammered. “I couldn’t get him to stop trembling.”
“I know.”
She moved the blanket aside and climbed out of the bed. “I think his fever’s breaking.”
“Good. I’ll get you some fresh water. He’ll be thirsty.”
Ignoring her own sweaty discomfort, Amelia began to wipe the beaded sweat from Houston’s body. Not until he grabbed her wrist did she realize he was awake. She smiled softly. “You gave us quite a scare.”
