Page 40 of Texas Splendor
He leaned toward her, propping himself up on an elbow. “I wished that you would marry me.”
Her heart beat faster, harder than the hind foot of a rabbit. He took the curling end of her braid and carried it to his lips. She almost imagined she felt his breath fanning over it, his soft lips brushing over it.
“I want you to marry me for the sake of our daughter—”
“Son.”
His hand stilled, the locks of her hair resting against his chin. “Earlier you said—”
“Well, now I’m thinking it’s a boy.” She rolled her head to her shoulder. “I can’t decide what it is.”
He chuckled low. “Marry me because you make me smile when I haven’t in a long time.”
“Less than a week ago, you told me that you weren’t courting me, that you had nothing to offer me.”
“That was before I knew you needed my name.” He cradled her cheek. “I’d give you the world if I could, Loree, but I made a decision five years ago that’s gonna limit the things I can offer you. The only thing I have that I can give you is my name, and I hate like hell that I can’t give it to you untarnished. But I’ll work hard. I think I can give you—and our children—a good life. I know I can give you a better life than the one you have here. At least with me, you won’t have the loneliness.”
During the past month, she could count the number of days that contained a promise of happiness. The promise always arrived when he did. Her child could have a father who had been in prison or no father at all. Was the past more important than the present? And who was she to judge? Her past was as tarnished as his.
“Will you promise me something?” she asked hesitantly.
“Anything.”
Her stomach quivered, and she clasped her hands tightly together. “Will you promise never to make love to me if you’re thinking of Becky?”
A profound silence stretched between them. Earlier he had mentioned children, not child, and she knew he expected more than a marriage in name only. She also knew that she could easily come to care for this man, perhaps she already did more than she should. Her heart would shatter if he ever again whispered another’s name while joining his body to hers.
“I promise,” he rasped.
“Then I’ll marry you—for the sake of the child.”
A warm smile crept over his face, and he grazed his knuckles over her cheek. “I’ll make it good for you, Sugar. You won’t regret that you had to marry me.”
He drew her face toward his and kissed her. Not with passion, not with fire. But with an apology and understanding.
She knew she’d never regret marrying him, and she hoped he would never discover what she had done, the actions that had prompted her to settle for a life of solitude. For if he did, she feared that he would deeply regret marrying her.
Chapter 8
“Oh my goodness!”
As the wagon rolled along, Loree shifted Two-bits on her lap and stared at the massive adobe structure. Turrets in the corners. A crenellated roof. She’d never seen anything like it. “Is that an inn?”
Beside her on the wagon seat, Austin chuckled. “Nope. That’s my brother’s house.”
Loree pressed her hand against her stomach as though to protect the child. “It’s so big.”
“I think it’s god-awful ugly.”
“Well, it’s not exactly what I would want in a house—”
“What do you want, Loree?”
She turned at the serious tone of his voice. They had been married in Austin, with only Dewayne and his family in attendance. She had worn a white dress and new soft leather shoes that Austin had purchased for her. She’d carried a bouquet of wildflowers that he had picked for her.
As nervous as she’d been, she’d also felt a spark of happiness because he treated her with reverence and respect, and he constantly worried over her. Too many years had passed since anyone other than Dewayne had worried over her.
He had packed up her belongings, loaded them on the wagon, and traveled slower than a snail’s pace for fear the jarring wagon would cause her to lose the baby. At night, they slept within each other arms, beneath the stars, but he never attempted to exercise his husbandly rights.
