Page 68 of Texas Destiny
“Dallas? Dallas?” Austin whispered harshly.
Staring hard at the wooden beams running the length of the bunkhouse ceiling, his mind on weighty matters, Dallas sighed heavily. “What?”
“I don’t recollect ever hearin’ Houston laugh before. I didn’t realize it until I heard him laugh this evening. You ever hear Houston laugh before?” Austin asked.
Dallas swallowed hard, fighting to push back the guilt. “He laughed a lot when we were boys … before the war.”
“I’m thinkin’ that you’re right. Bringing women out here is gonna be a good thing. They sure make everything look prettier.”
“Yeah, they do. Now, get yourself to sleep. We got business to tend to tomorrow. Can’t stop working just because we’ve got a woman in the house.”
“If you decide you don’t want her, I’ll take her.”
“I’m not giving her up. Signed a contract saying I’d make her my wife if she traveled out here. A contract is like giving your word. I’ve never broken my word.”
He slammed his eyes closed, knowing he’d find no sleep tonight. No matter what the cost, no matter who paid it … he’d never broken his word.
Sleep had been as elusive as the shadows hovering in the room, changing with the flickering flame from the lantern. Each time sleep drew near and Amelia grabbed it, she’d find herself searching for the feel of Houston’s arms, the sound of his breathing, and the scent of horses and leather that was part of him. She’d awaken with a jolt, alone. She so hated being alone.
Sometime during the night, she’d slipped out of bed, draped a blanket over her shoulders, moved to the window, and welcomed the company of the stars. They had served as her canopy for so many nights, brought with them vivid memories of a man she didn’t understand. She thought she could ask Houston questions through eternity, but his carefully guarded answers would forever keep her from understanding him fully.
She was certain that she meant more to him than he let on, thought it possible that he may have fallen in love with her, knew she’d come to love him. She wondered why he didn’t act on his feelings. She wasn’t married to his brother. Surely Dallas would understand if she had a change of heart. She didn’t fear Dallas, but she sensed that Houston was wary of him, as though he thought his brother might strike out at him if he spoke the wrong words or took the wrong action. She wondered how much Dallas resembled his father. Houston had not been fond of his father. She wondered if he saw his father when he looked at Dallas.
In the predawn darkness, she sighed and listened to the steady clack of the windmill Dallas had built. Soon the sun would touch the earth, throwing its glow over Dallas’s land. She hoped the sight would bring joy to her heart, would replace this mourning of a loss she couldn’t identify or explain.
She heard a thump in the hallway. Her first thought was that Houston had sneaked in to see her, but she didn’t think that would be his way. He’d said once that he always took the easy way. As much as it pained her, she had to acknowledge that for him, leaving her was easier than claiming her.
She heard the bump again. She rose from her chair and tiptoed across the room to the hearth, where the embers from the dying fire glowed red. She picked up the smallest log in the stack beside the hearth and crept to the door.
She opened the door slightly and peered out. She saw a shadow moving out of one of the far rooms. She couldn’t remember if that room was another bedroom. The person was carrying something. She stepped into the hallway and held the log like a club, hoping she had the strength to carry out her threat if the thief tried to bolt. “Stop right there!”
The culprit turned, stumbled back, hit the door, and fell into the room from which he’d just come. Amelia rushed down the hallway, her heart thudding madly. She skidded to a stop and stood over the prone figure, trying to decide if she should hit him now or cry for help.
“Miss Carson! It’s me! Austin.”
She scrutinized the darkness, barely able to discern his features. She could hear his heavy breathing. She had no doubt frightened him as much as he’d frightened her. She lowered her raised arms. They quivered as they relaxed against her side. “What are you doing here?”
He scrambled to his feet. “Come to get my violin. Dallas didn’t give me no time to get my belongings. You scared me to death.”
She laughed with a crazy sort of relief. “You scared me, too.”
“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to.” He tilted his head. “Miss Carson, you want to come watch the sunrise with me?”
“Will Dallas be there?”
“No, ma’am. He done headed out with some of the men to check the south range. I’m supposed to watch out for you today.”
“Let me get dressed.”
She hurried into her room. She considered putting on her own clothes. She had washed them last night, but she had enjoyed the freedom she’d felt wearing the loose skirt and blouse. She slipped into the clothes, wrapped the makeshift shawl around her shoulders, and walked back into the hallway. Austin was plucking a string on his violin.
He shoved himself away from the wall. “Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the stairs and through the house to the back porch.
He released her hand and dropped to the top step. She settled in beside him, leaning against the beam. “Dallas said that where the sun comes up is where his land begins.”
“Yes, ma’am. He has a hell—excuse me, heck—of a lot of land.” He leaned toward her. “Can I say heck?”
She smiled. He had lived in a world dominated by men. She didn’t expect him to change his habits overnight, wasn’t even certain if he should. “You can say whatever you want. I don’t mind.”
