Page 37 of Texas Destiny
His jaw dropped. She pushed it back up. “You need to keep still so I don’t cut you.”
“He shouldn’t have done that.”
She shrugged. “I’m just grateful he didn’t make us sleep in the fields or turn us out completely. When he planted cotton, we picked it.”
“Me and Dallas used to pick cotton when we were young.”
She sat back on her heels. “You did?”
He nodded. “I didn’t mind it so much, but Dallas hated it. Swore when he got old enough, he’d find himself a job that didn’t involve plowing fields or picking crops. Reckon that’s why he likes cattle.”
She stood and walked to the other side.
“I can finish shaving,” he said, reaching for the razor.
She batted his hand away. “I can do it.” Carefully, she began to shave the area below the patch, to work her way around his scars. “Anyway, eventually, Mr. Bryant let Mama work in the house. When she died, I took over her chores. I tended to his needs when he got too feeble to take care of himself. He was such a proud man. In the end, I grew rather fond of him, even though he was a Yankee.”
She angled her head to study Houston’s face. “Shall I leave the whiskers above your lip so you can grow a mustache?”
“If you want. A man with a face like mine doesn’t put much stock in how he looks.”
But he did care, she realized, thinking back to the day she’d met him. He’d been clean shaven then. The morning they were to leave, he’d bathed and shaved. And he’d brought along his shaving equipment and a tiny mirror so he could keep up his appearance as they traveled. If he had wanted a mustache, he would have grown one without her suggesting it. She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “No, I think a mustache would hide your mouth, and you have such a nice-looking mouth.”
In the fading light, she could see the blush creep over his face. Gingerly, she shaved over his lip. A shiver shimmied up her spine when his breath fanned her knuckles.
She wiped the remnants of lather away and trailed her fingers along his smooth jaw, across his chin, and up his cheek until her palm cradled the side of his face, her fingertips resting lightly against the patch. It pleased her that he didn’t grab her wrist and pull her hand away. “Does it still hurt?”
She watched as he swallowed. “Sometimes … when a Norther blows through, it’ll ache.”
Her gaze drifted back to his lips. They looked incredibly soft and out of place on a face as rugged as his. She lifted her eyes and discovered that he was studying her mouth as well. Self-consciously, she licked her lips.
His gaze slowly roamed over her features until they settled on her eyes. “It’ll be dark soon. You’d best get inside. All manner of animals come out at night.”
Withdrawing her hand from his cheek, she rose. “I set some towels by the fire to warm. The breeze can be quite chilling when you’re wet. I’ll get them for you.”
As calmly as she could, her stomach quivering, she strolled away, knowing that she shouldn’t have enjoyed shaving Houston as much as she had, knowing that she shouldn’t wonder if his lips were as soft and warm as they appeared. She made a silent vow that on the morning following her wedding, she’d shave Dallas.
Amelia sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her sleeping companion. She’d put on a clean blouse and skirt that she’d brought from Georgia. She couldn’t quite bring herself to sleep in her nightgown. She heard a soft tapping and rose to her feet. “Come in.”
The door opened, and Houston peered into the room. “You ready for me to come inside?”
She nodded. With one long stride, he was in the room, looking as uncomfortable as she felt.
“You want the door closed?” he asked.
She nodded again, not certain her voice had come into the room with her.
He set his saddlebags near the door and glanced around the room, looking at everything but Amelia and the bed. Finally, he released a long, slow breath and met her gaze. “I figure we got two choices here. I can either sneak out the window and sneak back in at dawn, or I can sleep on the floor.”
“Or you can sleep in the bed.”
His gaze darted over to the bed.
“I think it would hurt Beth’s feelings if she somehow discovered that you hadn’t slept in the bed.”
“Yeah, well, right now I’m more concerned with your feelings.”
“Are you?”
