Heartstrings (35 page)

As he listened to her speak, tranquility lit up a dark place inside him. He’d teased her about her genius in the past, but at this moment he felt grateful for her intelligence, for in the space of only a moment her wisdom laid to rest his years’ old self-condemnation.

“Roman,” Theodosia pressed gently, “how did you come to learn the farm was not to be yours?”

He met her gaze and kissed her with his eyes. “After Flora met a man by the name of Rexford Driscoll in the nearby town of Hawk Point. She took one look at him and practically threw herself at his feet. Driscoll had recently gambled away his land in a game of cards and was on his way back east. I think he said he was from Virginia.

“Anyway, when he saw our house and farm, he asked Flora to marry him. She did. I didn’t go to the wedding, but after the ceremony she came looking for me. She found me in the corn field, and she still had her wedding dress on when she told me she was selling the farm. I had a basket of corn in my arms, and I dropped it. She didn’t seem to notice, but went on to inform me that Pa hadn’t left a will and that the farm was hers to sell.”

Viciously, he dug his blade into the tree branch. “I stayed awake all night, walking all over the land I had thought would belong to me. But no matter how hard I thought…no matter how fast or far I walked, I couldn’t understand how I could get Flora to let me keep the farm. I didn’t have any money, and I knew she wouldn’t give me the farm out of the kindness of her heart. By late afternoon the next day, she’d sold the farm to a merchant from Hawk Point. The man had plans to raise peacocks. Said they fetched a good price from wealthy people who wanted something elegant and exotic strutting around their gardens. My land—peacocks.”

Shaking his head, he massaged the back of his neck and the muscles in his shoulder. “I don’t know how much Flora sold the farm for, but I reckon she did well with the sale. It wasn’t a big farm, but it was good land. With the money in his pocket, Driscoll took Flora, Cordelia, and Veronica back east with him. I never heard from any of them again, but sometimes I wonder how long Driscoll put up with those three women.”

“Flora didn’t leave anything for you?” Theodosia asked, appalled. “Nothing at all?”

“Our mustang mare,” Roman answered, and smiled. “But the only reason she left the horse to me was that she thought it was worthless. The mare’s name was Angel. She was Secret’s dam, and his sire was Driscoll’s Thoroughbred. Like I told you before, I bred the horses one night when everyone was asleep. The way I see it, Driscoll and Flora didn’t leave me with nothing. They left me with the knowledge of exactly what breed of horses I would raise on my ranch, and I’ve been working toward that goal ever since.”

The depth of his strength and determination astonished Theodosia to such an extent that tears threatened to spill again. “Do you realize how remarkable it is that you have become the man you are, Roman? Many people whose childhoods were similar to yours live their entire lives wallowing in self-pity. Constantly doubting themselves, they are afraid to decide upon a dream, much less attempt to reach it. You not only know what you want, but you have very nearly attained it.”

At her praise, his tranquility deepened and mingled with the relief he felt over having finally shared his past with someone who cared enough to really listen.

He finished carving the tree limb and slid his knife back into its sheath. “The memories I just told you about are the bad ones, Theodosia, but I have some good ones too. It’s true I was on my own when I was a kid, but I did a lot of fun stuff to keep myself busy. Whenever I could escape, I’d spend hours playing away from the house.”

She imagined him as a little boy, running all over the farm and investigating everything he encountered. Her daydream touched her heart. “What sort of play did you indulge in?”

He didn’t reply.
Telling
Theodosia about the fun he’d had wouldn’t accomplish a thing. No, he would show her—and urge her to participate. He didn’t think it would be difficult.

After all, he’d already succeeded in getting the prim little genius up into a tree.

Smiling, he tapped the bars of John the Baptist’s cage.

The parrot responded by splashing water every which way. “I’m going to buy Spanish mares down in Mexico,” he stated.

“Yeah?” Roman said. “What a coincidence. So am I.”

The bird blinked. “I read a great deal, and I especially enjoy philosophy.”

“I like to read about sex,” Roman declared. John the Baptist ate a peanut. “What do you think is handsome about me? My face?”

“Don’t get him started, Roman,” Theodosia scolded. She reached for her parrot’s cage, then tried to rise.

“Just sit there for a minute,” Roman advised, standing. He stepped over her, hunkered down, and got a firm hold on the tree trunk. “All right, now get on.”

Holding her bird cage with one hand, she positioned herself on Roman’s back, wrapped her legs around his waist, and curled her arm around his neck. Just as he began his descent, she caught a glimpse of what he’d carved into the tree limb. Her heart stirred.

She’d seen her name engraved upon scrolled diplomas, gold jewelry, and a wide variety of other elegant items.

But she’d never seen it carved in the wood of a live oak tree.

Chapter Fourteen

A
s Roman walked out of the
Enchanted Hill hotel the next morning, he found the hotel owner polishing the brass urns that sat beside the door.

“Good morning, Mr. Montana,” the man said.

Roman nodded. “When you get a chance, could you put a new doorknob on room two? The one that’s on the door now is hard to open.”

“Lord have mercy, I meant to have that thing fixed last week. The last person that stayed in that room couldn’t get out at all and was locked inside until someone finally heard him screaming’.”

“Then you’ll fix it?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Montana. Sure thing.”

Satisfied, Roman walked out into the street, but the bustle of activity that met his eyes stopped him short.

Many of the townsmen were busy scrubbing the fronts and sides of buildings. Women swept the boardwalks, washed windows, and planted bright red geraniums in barrels that decorated the sides of the street. A group of adolescents beat dust from carpets they’d carried out of various buildings. Even the children worked. Smiling and laughing, they raced around the street hanging red, white, and blue ribbons on every available post in the town.

Roman decided some dignitary was passing through. Or maybe it was the mayor’s birthday. Shrugging, he headed into the telegraph office and sent Theodosia’s latest message to her sister and brother-in-law. She wired Lillian and Upton whenever she had the chance, and when she couldn’t she posted letters. All her messages concerned her continued studies of oral meandering. Roman had no idea what oral meandering meant but decided it was too boring a subject to bother himself with.

Next, he visited the general store with a specific idea of what he wanted to buy. Fifteen minutes later, he bought a new rifle to replace the one he’d given Mamante, and also purchased another very special item. He had the storekeeper’s daughter wrap the item in yellow paper and tie it up with a bright red satin ribbon. With the rifle and the pretty box under his arm, he walked out of the mercantile, whereupon a young boy promptly handed him the daily newspaper.

One look at the headline not only explained the reasons for the townspeople’s efforts to spruce up the town, it sent foreboding speeding through him.

ENGLISH ARISTOCRATS ARRIVE TONIGHT!

“Ain’t that somethin’, mister?” an elderly man commented as he sat rocking in a chair beside the store door. “Lord, ain’t nothin’ like this ever happened in little ole Enchanted Hill. Did y’git to read the story yet?”

“No,” Roman gritted out.

The man rubbed his grizzled cheek and crossed his bony legs. “Well, as I understand it, some seven Englishmen got their heads together and decided they didn’t want to take some Grand Tour thing over there in Europe. Wanted to take a tour of our own Southwest instead, and once they got here to Texas, somebody tole ’em about Enchanted Hill. I reckon they’s a-comin’ to make a few wishes on the hill, jest like ever’body else does who passes through. Anyhow, they sent a real dignified committee ahead of ’em to see to their hotel reservations, train and stage schedules, and things like that. Them English ’ristycrats is all rich, y’know.”

Rich was not the only thing those English dandies were, Roman seethed. They were educated.
Highly
educated, just like Theodosia. And with seven of them coming, it was very likely that at least one would be tall, dark-haired, and blue-eyed. Wealthy as they were, they wouldn’t care about getting Theodosia’s gold, but they for damned sure wouldn’t refuse a string of long and passionate nights in her arms.

Dammit, he had to coerce her into leaving Enchanted Hill before she got a look at the newspaper!

He bolted back toward the hotel, raced through the lobby, and flew up the stairs that led to the rooms. When he reached his and Theodosia’s room, his palms sweated as he grasped the doorknob.

It wouldn’t turn until he exerted all his strength on it. Finally the door opened, and he saw her. She stood beside a table, upon which sat a bowl of apples, oranges, and several ripe lemons.

“Roman,” Theodosia whispered. “Have you seen this?” She held up the newspaper so he could read the headline emblazoned across the top of the page. “A hotel employee slipped the paper under the door shortly after you left. I—you—do you realize what this means?”

He knew exactly what it meant. She had the same thoughts about the aristocrats that he did. Nothing he did or said would keep her from meeting with the Englishmen.

But feelings he couldn’t understand, couldn’t name, made it imperative that he try.

He tossed his new rifle and the yellow box to the bed and drew himself up to his full height. “We’re leaving Enchanted Hill right now, and I don’t want to hear a word of argument.” He crossed to the closet and pulled out her trunks. “Get your things packed.”

“Roman—”

“For God’s sake, there’s a contagious disease spreading through town,” he lied desperately. “If we stay a second longer, we might catch it. Pack your bags.”

She stared at him. “What kind of disease?”

“Measles,” he blurted.

“I had a terrible case of the measles when I was seven. Therefore I am now immune to the disease.”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, summoning more lies. “Yeah? Well, I’ve never had a single measle anywhere on me. But even if I had, these are rare measles, Theodosia. They just got discovered. Could be that those sickly Englishmen are the ones who brought these measles over here from Europe, so we’re leaving.”

Hope soared within him when she joined him in front of the closet. “I’ll help you pack your dresses.” He grabbed a few of her gowns from the closet, wadded them up, and stuffed them into one of her trunks.

“Roman, wait.” Theodosia stayed his hand as he reached for more of her clothes. “Please, let’s talk about this.”

He had no inkling of how to discuss his raging emotions. All he could understand was that Theodosia was not going to leave Enchanted Hill willingly. And he knew intuitively that if she stayed here, by tonight she would find the perfect man to sire the child.

Fury blasted through him like a horrible scream.

His silence deafened Theodosia to everything but the sound of his anger and hurt. She lowered her head and stared at his boots.

He didn’t want her sleeping with one of the Englishmen any more than she wanted to do it, she thought. And why
would
he support such a thing? The intimacy they’d shared had resulted in
her
pleasure, but never his. He’d respected her refusal to allow him to make love to her, had honored her reasons for denying him.

But the fact remained that he had wanted her, desired her every bit as much as she did him.

And now, after he’d shown such incredible control and understanding, she was going to freely give herself to another man.

She’d never felt more selfish in all her life.

Awash with guilt, she lifted her head and centered her gaze on his chest. “I’m sorry, Roman,” she whispered.

He stared into her eyes, trying desperately to find something within them that would convince him that she felt the same inner turmoil he did.

When she looked away, he knew that if indeed her emotions paralleled his, she was not going to allow them to decide her actions.

He stepped away from her. “Sorry, Theodosia?” he flared. “About what?”

She frowned softly. “For—for hurting you.”

“Hurting me?” He feigned an expression of deliberation, then a look of sudden comprehension. “You think you’ll hurt me by going to bed with one of those English guys?” he asked, forcing disbelief into his voice. “Why would that hurt me?”

“I—”

“Let me explain something to you,” Roman continued hotly. “I liked the feel of your body, but what I liked more was seeing if I could get you to let me touch you. Your denials and protests were like dares, and I don’t turn down dares, not ever. The only thing I ever cared about was trying to get the innocent little genius into bed with her clothes off. I did it, and as far as lovemaking goes, hell, I don’t care whose thighs I lie between. The ends are always the same.”