A Texan's Honor (2 page)

“I don't mind. I like the work.” Okay, he was lying, but telling the truth wouldn't get him anywhere. This was his chance for a
real
future. It was worth a little white lie.

“Shepherd tells me you've done a very good job,” his uncle said. “In fact, he can't seem to stop talking about you.”

Unlike Silas, Shepherd wasn't one to withhold praise where it was due.

“I'm glad he thinks I've been helpful.”

When he first came from Texas, Bret had had difficulty making meaningless conversation. There was no such thing in the Maxwell household where he'd been raised. Jake was brusque, Isabelle direct, and the other orphans were just waiting for a chance to put somebody down. As long as what they said was fair, Jake and Isabelle let them say pretty much what they thought. They believed all the boys had a right to be heard, that their feelings should be respected as far as
possible, and that treatment should be fair. But most of all, they'd loved every one of their eleven adopted kids. The orphans had worked hard, played hard, and occasionally fought hard, but each was a loved and valued part of the family. They knew they belonged.

Bret hadn't expected his mother's family to feel the same way about him, but reality had been a brutal shock. His father's sister had welcomed him back, but she was involved in her causes and was seldom around. Only his grandmother's attention enabled him to keep his tongue between his teeth. She had encouraged him to be patient, said that his hard work and intelligence would pay off someday. Today, he hoped was that day.

“I called you in because I have a very special assignment for you,” his uncle said.

“I was hoping we could discuss the suggestions I gave you. It wouldn't take more than a few minutes to—”

“I'm still studying them.” Silas tried unsuccessfully to hide his irritation at Bret's interruption.

“I doubt you're aware of it,” his uncle went on, “but Ezra Abercrombie had a brother who went West. Samuel was something of an embarrassment to the family, so Ezra was relieved to be rid of him. But apparently their father had a change of heart before he died.”

Amos Abercrombie, the ninety-three-year-old only son of one of the founders of Abbott & Abercrombie, had died the previous year and had been buried with all the pomp and recognition the city fathers of Boston could give him.

“It came as quite a surprise to Ezra to learn his father had left a quarter interest in the firm to Samuel in his will.”

Bret could see how that would upset his uncle, but he didn't see what it could have to do with him. The
Abercrombies were a proud family who didn't waste time on poor relations. He doubted they'd let him in the door.

“It seems the old renegade has managed to make a fortune in cows somewhere in that godforsaken state of Texas,” Silas grumbled. “You ought to know all about that sort of thing.”

Bret did know all about
that sort of thing,
and his family never let him forget it. Whenever one of them made any slur about the South or the West, they always turned to him as though he'd been personally responsible for the Civil War as well as anyone wanting to settle west of the Mississippi River. The fact that he would not back down in his admiration for Jake and Isabelle was held to be proof that he was not yet rehabilitated.

“How does that affect me?” Bret asked.

“You can keep twenty-five percent of our company stock from ending up in the hands of some ignorant cowpoke.”

Bret had to force down a spurt of anger before he could reply. “How am I supposed to do that?”

“Samuel is dying. He wants this daughter—his only child—to move to Boston. The only problem is the old turncoat has given the girl such a poor image of the Abercrombies, she refuses to budge. The only person she remembers favorably is Joseph, so Samuel wants us to take her in. I want you to bring her to Boston before she gets any foolish ideas about marrying a cowpoke.”

Bret wasn't the least bit flattered by this
very special assignment
. His uncle had chosen him to go to Texas because he thought everybody else was too good to be subjected to the rigors of entering a state he was convinced was populated almost entirely by thieves and murderers.

“It's your job to make sure she gets here in an unmarried state. Until she's safely settled in Boston, it's your
only
job.”

“I can't force her against her will.”

“Who said anything about forcing her?” his uncle asked. “You lived among those people for years. You understand them. If you want me to believe you're smart enough to figure out a better way to run my business, you can begin by delivering that girl without a husband in tow.”

“Sons and daughters of
those people
don't always do what their parents want.”

“That would serve Samuel right,” Silas said with a nasty smile. “
He
never did what anybody wanted, but we can't afford to let those shares go out of the family. You get her here, and I'll find somebody to marry her.”

“Who?” She might be heir to a quarter of the company, but Bret couldn't see one of the Abbotts or Abercrombies marrying anybody who hadn't been born into Boston society.

“Samuel has sent his brother several pictures of her over the years. I don't know where he found anyone with a camera in that godforsaken place, but the girl appears to be rather attractive. Joseph is quite taken with her. I admit I'm not pleased at the prospect of a woman of that kind as my daughter-in-law, but we can't allow that twenty-five percent to leave the family.”

“I'll have nothing to do with marrying her to Joseph.”

“Joseph is capable of handling his own affairs,” Silas said. “Your job is to get her here. And don't get any ideas about marrying her yourself.” Silas never thought anything he said was insulting. As far as he was concerned, only people like himself had feelings.

“I couldn't marry if I wanted,” Bret said. “I don't make enough to support a wife, much less a family.”

“Don't despair,” Silas said without the slightest hint of sympathy. “Once you work off some of the rough edges you got from spending so many years with horses and cows, you might find a wife. Boston is full of wealthy young women who don't come quite up to the mark and are willing to accept something less in a husband.”

Bret wasn't willing to accept
something less
in a wife. “If Joseph is interested in marrying Miss Abercrombie, maybe
he
should go to Texas.”

“He wouldn't know how to deal with those people,” Silas said. “Besides, I have no intention of letting him marry that girl until she's brought up to our standards. No, it will be much better for you to bring her here. That will give you plenty of opportunity to sing Joseph's praises, let her know how fortunate she is to have attracted the notice of a man of his quality. If you do your job right, by the time she gets here, she'll be ready to fall into Joseph's arms and do anything he asks.”

Bret knew he had no choice about going to Texas, yet he wouldn't be a party to talking any woman into marrying his cousin. “If she's spent her whole life on a ranch in Texas, she won't know what to do in a place like this.”

“Joseph will take care of that. All you have to do is get her here.”

“What if I can't bring her back?”

His uncle's cold stare bored into Bret. “Then don't come back yourself.”

“I won't go to Boston,” Emily Abercrombie said to her father. “I don't know anybody there. I love the ranch. I don't want to live anywhere else.”

“You can't stay here after I'm dead,” Sam said to his daughter. “There's nobody to look after you.”

“I don't need anybody to look after me,” Emily replied. “I've been looking after you ever since Mama died.”

Her father had told her nothing about his family that would make her want to have anything to do with them. She'd been to Boston once, when she was eight and her mother had been so sick she went to see special doctors. She'd had ample opportunity to get to know more than she wanted to know about the Abercrombie family. The Abbotts were a little better, especially a cute boy named Joseph, but she was used to almost complete freedom to do as she liked. That would be impossible in Boston, regardless of who she lived with. She couldn't imagine leaving Texas, their ranch, or their house. It was everything she wanted.

“I wouldn't know what to do in Boston,” Emily said to her father.

“You could get married and raise a passel of children.”

“I don't want a passel of kids to drive me crazy. Think of what I've done to you and multiply that by a half dozen.”

Her father returned her smile, reached across the distance that separated them to lay his hand over hers. “I would have welcomed a dozen like you. So would your mother, but she could only have one. I think we got the best.”

Emily squeezed her father's hand. “I don't know about that, but you got one who likes getting her own way.”

Her father laughed. “Your mother hadn't been dead more than a year before you started changing everything in the house.”

Emily's parents had met in Virginia when her father
was studying at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville. They married over the strident objections of both families. When the war broke out, they headed west. Using money he'd made profiteering during the war, Sam had settled in Texas and built a large house, which his wife furnished much like her ancestral home in Virginia.

After her mother's death, Emily had replaced her mother's colorful chintz with subdued leather, delicate porcelain with nearly unbreakable earthenware, and fragile carpets with sturdy rope rugs. Emily thought of the house only as a place to eat and sleep when she wasn't with her horses.

“If I weren't sick or your mother were still alive, I'd never suggest you move to Boston,” her father said.

“I wish I could go to my mother's family.” That wasn't possible. Her mother's family had lost everything during the war: their home was burned, their land devastated. “I don't see why I have to go anywhere.”

“How are you going to find a husband out here?”

“I'm not sure I want a husband.”

“Of course, you do. I can't imagine never having been married to your mother.”

“You and Mother were special. I promise if I ever find a man like you, I'll marry him.”

She didn't want to make things more difficult for her father, but if he wouldn't go to Boston to see doctors, she didn't see why she should go there to find a husband.

“I can't leave you here by yourself. I know you can manage the ranch, and that Lonnie would do anything in his power to help you, but this is tough country. There are rustlers just waiting for me to die so they can run off my herds. You'll be a rich woman. I don't want to think of how many men would be willing
to use force to marry you to get your money.”

“I can defend myself. You taught me how to use a gun years ago.”

“It's not just knowing how to use a gun. Men out here don't respect a woman's right to hold property. Hell, they don't respect
anybody's
right. If you can't keep it by force, you won't keep it.”

“I can hire extra help if necessary.”

“But could you trust them? You're a beautiful woman, a temptation even to a man of principle. It would be much better to sell the ranch. With your looks and money, you'd have your pick of eligible bachelors.”

“I'm not interested in eligible bachelors.”

Her father chuckled. “Well, you're going to meet one. Silas Abbott is sending out one of his nephews with orders to escort you back to Boston.”

“Did you send for him?”

“All I did was tell your Uncle Ezra I was worried about you and wanted you to go back to Boston. I doubt I would have heard from him if my father hadn't left me a quarter interest in Abbott and Abercrombie.”

“You didn't tell me.”

“I was going to sell the shares, but I changed my mind when Silas Abbott started putting pressure on me to sell to him. I think he's afraid I'll use my interest to try to get rid of him.”

“If they want me to go back, why didn't he send Joseph? At least I liked him.”

“Silas would never trust his precious son to the dangers of a land peopled with wild savages, thieves, and murderers. The man who's coming is Bret Nolan. Silas turned his back on the boy's mother when she married a man he didn't like. He's probably hoping Nolan will get lost and never find his way back to Boston, but that's not important. I want you to pay
close attention to what he has to say. He knows the Abbotts better than I do.”

“I don't care what he or anyone else says. I don't want to go to Boston, so you can tell him not to come.”

“I can't. He's on his way to Fort Worth right now.”

Bret didn't want to admit it, but the tight bands that had constricted his chest for the last six years had started to loosen as soon as he crossed the border into Texas. As the pine forests of East Texas gave way to the grasslands, he felt his lungs expand to take in deeper and deeper breaths of air. Despite the smoke and cinders from the steam engine, the air smelled cleaner, sweeter. The grass was greener, the sky more blue, the horizon limitless. He'd worked so hard to identify himself with Boston, he'd almost forgotten what Texas was like.

Seeing cows grazing in the billowing grass made him nostalgic for the days when he had chased the ornery beasts, slept under the stars, and cussed when the wind blew grit into the cook pot over the fire. But he'd been his own man back then, trusted by Jake to handle his work without anyone looking over his shoulder.

And when he did head back to the ranch, Isabelle's smile was ample proof he was home and he was wanted there. He would inevitably scrap with Pete and have to fight off Sean afterwards, Zeke would scowl at him and Hawk would virtually ignore him, but nobody hesitated to make a place for him at the table or move over so he could join the circle around the fire. Luke and Chet would place their bedrolls next to his, and Will would bring him steaming coffee as soon as Matt got it ready. Buck treated him like an annoying younger brother, and Drew constantly told him how to behave. But no matter the strains that
fractured the orphans along ever-changing lines, he was as much a part of the family as anyone else.