Page 65 of Texas Destiny
Amelia nodded, remembering so many things Houston had told her as they’d settled in each night, within each other’s arms.
“Did he tell you that I designed the house? Made it look like a castle with turrets and such, like they have in England. Thought it would be good for defense.”
She smiled. “No, he didn’t mention that. He just said that he couldn’t describe it. That I needed to see it. And now I’ve seen it. It’s very unusual. Where did you learn about castles?”
He leaned forward with none of the hesitation Amelia had grown to expect from Houston when she asked him a question. “There was a fella in my company during the war who had come over from England. He believed in the South’s cause more than some of my men did. We spent many a night discussing the differences between our countries. When the war ended, he returned to England.” He cleared his throat and eased back in his chair. “Apparently, he had placed some rather large bets on the outcome of the war. The South losing was not to his advantage.”
“He sounds like an interesting character. Houston never mentioned him.”
Dallas’s gaze shot to Houston, then back to Amelia. “Houston never met him. I didn’t meet Winslow until after Chickamauga.” He slapped his hands on the table. “But he was fascinating. Although I used much of what he told me to design this house, it still needs a lady’s touch. Give some thought as to what you’d like to see in the way of furniture and decorations. Maybe in the spring, we’ll go back to Fort Worth for a visit.”
“I’d like that. The town had so much energy.”
“I wanna go, too,” Austin said. “I bet the town has a lot of women. Houston, was there a lot of women in Fort Worth?”
“Wasn’t there long enough to notice.”
“If I’d just been riding through, I sure as hell would have noticed the women,” Austin said.
Houston slapped Austin’s arm. “Don’t use that language around Miss Carson.”
Austin stared at him. “What language you want me to use? Spanish?”
Houston grabbed Austin’s shirt and hauled him out of his chair. Austin protested loudly as Houston dragged him out of the room.
Dallas sighed deeply. “If you’d be so kind as to excuse me?”
Amelia swallowed her laughter and nearly choked. A woman’s touch was needed with more than the house. “Certainly.”
Harsh whispers filtered in from the hallway along with the sound of a possible slap on the arm or shoulder, which resulted in a young man’s fervent objection. The brothers stayed in the hallway outside the dining room longer than they had stayed in the hallway outside of Dallas’s office. When they finally returned, they had all set their jaws into uncompromising lines. They took their seats.
She wanted to hug Austin; his face was that of a boy trying desperately to become a man.
They ate in silence, Houston and Dallas concentrating on the meal. Amelia could see thoughts flickering across Austin’s face as though he was trying to decide what he could say without being hauled out of the room. Suddenly, his face lit up like the candles on a Christmas tree.
“Dallas is gonna buy some of that new fencing.”
Houston looked up at his older brother. “That barbed wire?”
“Yep,” Dallas acknowledged.
With that, the conversation ended, and the meal continued in silence.
Chapter Fourteen
Amelia drew the remnants of a blanket over her shoulders. Dallas had torn the woolen blanket in half, the easiest way he knew to give her something that resembled a shawl.
The sun was easing over the horizon, painting the sky in lavender, the land in shadows. Beside her, Dallas matched his pace to hers, leaning on a cane, his limp slight. She thought that without the limp, he would be able to cover twice as much ground as she.
He stopped walking and pointed toward the setting sun. “See where the sun is going down? That’s where my land ends.”
He met her gaze. She didn’t know if she’d ever seen a more handsome man, and she thought her heart should be tripping over itself with his attentions as he took her hand.
“When you wake in the morning, look out your window. Where the sun comes up is where my land begins.” He brought her hand to his warm lips, his mustache tickling her flesh as he steadily held her gaze. “You’re all that I imagined,” he said quietly.
Her heart did trip over itself then, pounding fast and furious as though she were running, as though she wanted to run. She could think of nothing clever to say. Her tongue grew thick and useless. “I imagined you with blue eyes,” she said, cringing with the inane comment as soon as the words left her mouth.
He raised a dark brow. “Blue eyes?”
