Page 35 of Texas Destiny
“Don’t be silly. Dallas trusts Houston, or he wouldn’t have sent him to get Amelia. And she must trust him, or she wouldn’t be traveling with him. Nothing will happen in that bedroom that couldn’t happen on the trail.”
John shrugged. “I reckon you got a point there.”
“I appreciate the kindness, but I’ll sleep in the barn,” Houston said.
“Nonsense,” Beth said, slapping her hand on the table for emphasis. “When was the last time you slept in a bed?”
Houston looked as though he’d been trapped which Amelia realized he had been. He couldn’t even claim to have slept in a bed while they were in Fort Worth.
“A while, but I’m used to sleeping on the ground.”
“Then tonight you will sleep in a bed, and we’ll prepare you each a bath. A good hot meal, a hot bath, and a soft bed. I would have sold my soul for those when I was traveling out here. It warms my heart to be able to offer them to you.”
Amelia met Houston’s gaze, and she knew he wanted an honorable way out of the situation, knew she should help him find one. But he had made one sacrifice after another for her on this trip. Surely Dallas would find no fault with her for making this one sacrifice for Houston.
“I truly appreciate your generosity, Beth,” she said quietly. “I would love to have a hot bath.”
Beth slapped her hand on the table in front of her daughter. “Sarah, stop staring. It’s not polite.”
Amelia glanced down at the little girl. She bowed her head, but Amelia could see that her gaze was still trained on Houston.
Houston shoved his bowl back. “It was a fine meal, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check on the mules.” He scraped the chair across the floor, stood, and headed out the door.
Beth sighed. “That’s such a shame he had to get wounded like that, but I imagine Dallas sleeps better at night.”
“What do you mean?” Amelia asked.
“It’s not unusual for a mail-order bride to meet someone along the way and never make it to the man who sent for her. Imagine Dallas figured that wouldn’t happen if he made Houston come after you. You’re not going to fall in love with him.”
Houston crossed his forearms over the fence railing. Sorrel snorted and nudged his elbow.
“No apples.” He scratched behind the horse’s ear. Most cowboys wouldn’t be caught dead riding a she-horse, but Houston had discovered he could approach a herd of wild mustangs with more success when he rode a mare. Although wary of a strange horse, a stallion was more likely to accept a female into his domain. He’d viciously fight another stallion. “You’d best get some sleep, old friend. I sure as hell won’t get any tonight.”
The horse nudged Houston’s elbow again and when no apple was forthcoming, she trotted away, leaving Houston to enjoy the solitude he craved.
He knew it wasn’t uncommon for people to offer their bed to visitors, even when the travelers weren’t married. The lack of towns and hotels had resulted in a code of hospitality across the plains that Houston couldn’t help but admire. Still, he wasn’t certain that Dallas would appreciate his neighbors’ generosity. He could only hope that his brother would understand that Beth couldn’t have spoken truer words: Nothing was going to happen in that bed. Nothing at all. Hell, he probably wouldn’t even be able to sleep.
Houston felt someone watching him, the gaze more of a tickle than a stare. He glanced down. Big blue eyes looked up at him. Incredibly innocent. He wished he could give the little girl a smile, but he knew no matter how hard he tried that the left side of his face wouldn’t cooperate, and he’d end up giving her something distorted and uglier than what she was looking at now, something that might frighten her.
“I got a hurt,” she said. She lifted her skirt until her white bloomers came into view along with her scraped knee. “My ma kissed it and made it better.” She released her skirt and pointed her finger. “You got a hurt.”
“Yeah, reckon I do.” Right in the center of his heart.
She scrunched up her face. “I can kiss it and make it better.”
Something inside his chest grew so tight that he thought he might not be able to breathe. She crooked her little finger and wiggled it at him. “Come here.”
Holding on to the railing for support, he bent his knees, squatting until he was as close to her height as he could get. Her eyes grew large and serious. She puckered her tiny lips, bobbed her head forward, then ran off. The brush of her mouth against his cheek had been as faint as the first breath of dawn. Deep inside, he smiled.
Standing a few feet away and slightly behind his left side, Amelia knew that his hampered vision prevented him from seeing her. She also realized with awe that he was smiling. Not on the outside where it would show, but within a secret place where he harbored his fears and his doubts, where she imagined a fifteen-year-old boy mourned the loss of his youth.
She knew that she was wrong to watch him without his knowledge, but she wanted to understand him as much as she needed to understand Dallas. With Dallas, she would have an advantage. She was certain he would talk with her and ask her questions. His brother would hold his hurts, his longings, his dreams close to his heart where no one could share them.
She turned and walked back to the house, where her bath waited. She hadn’t seen Houston’s smile, but it hovered around him, like a whispered sigh, sweet and unexpected.
Houston sank into the steaming hot water and released a slow, appreciative breath. Beth had draped blankets over the back porch railing to give him a measure of privacy. He could feel the cool night air moving in. In the distance, he could see orange and lavender sweeping across the sky.
A man couldn’t ask for much more than that.
