Page 83 of Texas Destiny
She rubbed above her lip. “Your mustache tickled.”
“Do you want me to shave it off?” “No!” She touched her hand to his cheek. “It suits you.”
“My father had a mustache.” He shook his head. “I suppose Houston told you that as well.”
“No, he never spoke much about your father.”
“Well.” Dallas stood and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “I thought we’d celebrate your arrival tomorrow evening. Kill the fatted calf. Give you a chance to get to know my men.”
“I want you to invite Houston.”
“He won’t come.”
“Invite him anyway.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the porch beam. “If it’ll please you—”
“It will.”
The low strains of the violin filtered through the air again. The sound almost broke Amelia’s heart.
Dallas turned his head to the side. “What’s that noise? Sounds like somebody dying.”
“Austin is playing his violin. I think he relies on his music to help him handle things that upset him.”
“Why is he upset?”
She sighed deeply. “Houston had a black stallion. Austin rode it this afternoon, and it dropped a foot in a prairie dog hole. He knew the horse was important to Houston, and I think he feels guilty because he had to shoot it.”
“He shouldn’t feel guilty. That’s a hazard that comes from riding out here. You accept it.”
“Maybe you could talk with him. You’re his brother, but he sees you as his father. He wants desperately for you to notice that he’s becoming a man.”
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Make a man tell you what’s on his mind?” She smiled softly. “I care enough to ask.”
Dallas stood within the shadows and listened, truly listened, to the music for the first time in his life. He imagined he could actually feel Austin’s grief hovering around him. When Austin stopped playing, the air was still fraught with the sound, lingering on the breeze. Austin dropped his head back against the beam. Dallas could barely make out his brother’s features in the darkness.
“Austin?”
Austin jumped to his feet. “I didn’t know you were here. I wouldn’t have been playin’ if I’d known you were here.”
Dallas heard the terror reflected in Austin’s voice. Good Lord, Dallas expected to strike the fear of God into the men who worked for him, but not his family. He’d never wanted his brothers to fear him the way he’d feared his father.
“Well, then, I’m glad you didn’t know I was here. I’ve never heard anything so … so—”
“Unmanly?”
“On the contrary. I’ve never heard any music that had the strength to strip emotions bare. You’ve got a gift there.” He cursed the darkness because he couldn’t tell if Austin had relaxed his stance. “Ma used to play songs that were low like that, but I don’t guess you’d remember that.”
“Nah, I don’t.”
“That’s her violin.”
Austin lifted the violin closer to his face. “It is?”
