Page 54 of Texas Destiny
He slipped his arm around her, and in a gesture that seemed as natural as breathing, she leaned against him, waiting for the promise of his dream to return.
For several days, they found the herd, walked into its midst, and watched the horses scamper away, but each day the mustangs didn’t run quite as far or quite as fast. On the fourth day, they didn’t run.
Houston felt Amelia’s arms tighten around him as he guided Sorrel into the middle of the herd. The palomino stallion eyed them warily, slowly approached, and sniffed Sorrel, sniffed Houston’s leg. Houston thought he could feel Amelia holding her breath against his back. How he wished he could have turned around to watch her. He imagined her green eyes bright, her lips curved into a smile.
When the stallion had determined they were no threat, he shook his head, sending his long silver mane rippling over his neck, and sauntered away as though to say, “Do as you please.”
Houston did just that. He wove his horse through the herd, studying each horse, judging its merit. He would capture them all, but he would keep only the best. He didn’t have enough rope to tether them all on a lead.
The one thing he missed throughout the day was Amelia’s questions. She held her silence, and he longed to hear her voice. He had a feeling his place was going to seem so much quieter for his having known her.
Amelia lost track of the days as they traveled with the mustangs. Their range covered a considerable distance, but she wouldn’t have minded if they’d galloped forever toward the dawn. She loved the feel of the horse beneath her, the man before her when the herd sensed danger and ran. She loved the night sounds when the mustangs settled in around them. Houston would draw her close, and she’d sleep in his arms. Sometimes, they’d talk quietly about the horses, which ones they preferred. Or they would talk about the moments during the day when they hadn’t spoken, but each had sensed the other’s thoughts revolving around the same conclusions.
She knew before he told her that he preferred the stallion’s lead mare over the others. She knew he would use her as the foundation of his own herd. She knew he would take care in breaking her.
And she knew in the hours before dawn when he quietly led Sorrel away from the herd and took her to the small box canyon that she’d fallen in love with him.
“I don’t understand why I can’t stay with you.”
Cupping his hands, he brought the water from the small pond to his lips and gulped. “Because I’m gonna ride them hard, and I need someone to close the gate behind us once I lead them in here.”
“What if they don’t follow you?”
He stood and dried his hands on his trousers. “Then I’ll have to chase them down and rope the ones we want. We’ve lost enough time as it is.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t understand how you can view the past few days as losing anything. It was the most incredible experience of my life.”
He ran his finger along her chin. “I didn’t mean it that way, but you have someone waiting for you. I need to get you to him.”
He strode to his horse and mounted. “Stay behind the brush until you hear me holler. Then start closing the gate. I’ll get over to help you as soon as I can.”
She sat on a boulder and waited. She watched the sun ease over the horizon and felt the loneliness sweep through her. Could a person love more than once in a lifetime, love more than one person this deeply, this strongly?
Dallas had answered her advertisement; she had given him her word that she would marry him. She had an obligation to fulfill, but she imagined years from now her children would circle her feet, and she’d tell them how she’d helped their uncle capture the beginning of his dream.
She heard the pounding hooves, felt the ground vibrate. She scampered behind the brush and waited. The herd came into view, thundering over the plains, their heads thrown back, their tails raised, their sleek muscles bunching and stretching as they rushed toward their destination.
Trailing behind, guiding them, keeping them on course rode Houston, low over his horse’s back, the wind whipping his hair, the sweat glistening over his body. She thought if she lived to be a hundred, she’d never see anything more magnificent.
Breathing heavily, their coats shiny with exertion, the mustangs galloped into the small canyon, heading for the pond. She heard Houston call her name as he roared past.
She moved the brush aside and began pushing the gate of limbs and rope. Then he was beside her, shoving it into place as the horses milled within the canyon. He fastened it, grabbed her about the waist, and hauled her to the side. “Don’t know if it’ll hold them,” he said as he released her.
The stallion was the first to notice that they were trapped. He reared up and rushed toward the gate of tree branches but stopped short of ramming against it. He trotted back and forth. Amelia could almost feel his anger.
“I have a feeling he’s a horse you don’t want to rile,” she said.
“Yep.” Houston dug through their belongings, located his shirt, and drew it over his head. “I could geld him. He wouldn’t be so spirited then.”
Amelia was appalled. “You won’t, will you?”
“Nope. He wouldn’t be much good to me then.” He walked to the gate and held out his hand. The stallion snorted and trotted into the late-morning shadows.
“What now?” she asked.
“We’ll give them a day to calm down, then we’ll pick the ones we want and head out.”
Amelia began to relish the approaching darkness, the coming of night. Houston never voiced his thoughts or feelings, but she thought he welcomed the night as much as she did.
