Page 64 of Texas Destiny
“I’m so glad,” Amelia said before she turned to Dallas. “I have something for you.” Holding out her hand, she unfurled her fingers to reveal a gold pocket watch. “A small token of my affection. But it broke.”
“Your affection broke?” Dallas asked.
Houston wished he hadn’t heard the catch in Dallas’s voice, but the sound brought home how much Dallas was depending on Amelia to marry him, to give him the son he wanted.
Amelia smiled softly. “No, the watch broke. I was carrying it in a hidden pocket in my skirt, and it got ruined when I jumped into the river. If you shake it, you can hear the water that’s still trapped inside.”
Dallas took the gift from her, held it near his ear, and rattled it. “Well, I’ll be. I’ll treasure it always.”
Amelia blushed. “But it no longer keeps time.” Dallas smiled warmly. “No, but it’ll remind me to stay off wild horses.”
Every room Amelia had set foot in was huge: her bedroom, Dallas’s office, the front parlor, and the entryway. The dining room, however, was the largest of all. A chandelier hung from the ceiling towering above. The walls were bare. The hearth empty. One large oak table with four chairs resided in the room with nothing else. The furniture in each room seemed oddly matched, as though Dallas’s taste in wood and fabric ran along the same lines as his taste in women’s hats. Amelia didn’t know if she could ever feel comfortable in any of the rooms. They seemed incredibly cold, and she sensed that fires burning within the hearths would not warm them.
The chairs scraped across the stone floor as everyone took their seats, Dallas at the head of the table to her left, Houston to her right, and Austin across from her. She was struck with the beauty of Austin’s eyes, a sapphire blue that any woman would have envied. His thick black lashes framed his eyes, drawing attention to them. She thought if women did come to the area as Dallas hoped, Austin would soon be married.
A door at the back of the room was kicked open, and the cook ambled in carrying a black cast-iron pot. His white hair stood out in all directions as though it had battled the wind and lost. A bushy white beard hid his mouth. Stains splattered his white apron. He brought the ladle out of the pot and spooned the stew into Amelia’s bowl. “Ain’t fancy, but it’s filling.”
She glanced up at him and smiled. “Thank you. And thank you for the loan of the clothes.”
“Ain’t no loan. They’re yours to keep. Got no use for ’em any more.”
“Didn’t know you was married, Cookie,” Austin said.
“Years ago, boy, years ago. Little gal from Mexico.” He placed stew in Dallas’s bowl. “She up and died on me, but I kept some of her clothes. Used to take ’em out at night and just smell ’em because they smelled like her. But it’s been too many years now. Can’t smell her no more. Might as well let Miss Carson here get some use out of ’em.”
“What was your wife’s name?” Austin asked as Cookie filled his bowl until the stew dripped over onto the table.
“Juanita. Beautiful, she was. With black hair, black eyes, and red, red lips.” He closed his eyes at a memory. “What those lips could do to a man.” He ambled over to Houston. “If I keep thinkin’ about her, I’m gonna have to hightail it up to Dusty Flats.”
“Dusty Flats?” Amelia said.
What was visible of Cookie’s cheeks turned as red as Juanita’s lips might have been. He dropped the pot on the table. “I’ll leave this with you. I ain’t no butler.” He went back through the door by which he’d entered, kicking it closed on his way out.
“Dusty Flats?” Amelia repeated. “Is that a town?”
Houston and Dallas both shifted in their chairs, their faces set. “It’s not a town that a lady would go to,” Dallas said.
“But it’s got women,” Austin said. “Or so I’ve heard.” He stuck out his lower lip. “Can’t get nobody to take me, though.”
Dallas cleared his throat. “It’s not proper conversation for the supper table.”
“How come?” Austin asked.
“Because we have a lady eating with us.”
Austin nodded as though what Dallas had said made sense to him, but Amelia could see confusion clearly reflected in the blue depths of his eyes.
“How do you like the house?” Dallas asked.
Amelia nearly choked on the stew. She took a sip of water, glancing down the table at Houston. He sat with his chair turned to the side. She had expected him to at least be comfortable with his disfigurement around his brothers.
“It’s big,” Amelia said, turning her attention back to Dallas. Those words were an understatement. The house was huge. Two stories of stone and—
“Adobe,” Dallas said. “The house is built of adobe so it’ll stay cooler in the summer. Gets hot here.”
“Yes, that’s what Houston told me. He said you can drop an egg on a rock and watch it cook.”
“He said that, did he?’ Dallas asked.
