Lorraine Heath (19 page)

“I think because she’s like her mother and speaks what’s on her mind—even when he wishes she wouldn’t. When Rawley first started going to school, he somehow got on the teacher’s bad side. Teacher was punishing him for not learning quickly enough. Rawley was too ashamed to tell me about it. Reckon he thought he deserved it. Maggie thought differently and told me about it.”

“So you talked with the teacher and worked things out?” Loree asked.

“Hell, no. Gave him his wages and sent him on his way. Hired another teacher. Nobody, but nobody punishes my children but me. And you were right. I would have snatched that piano teacher baldheaded if I’d seen her lifting a hand to my boy. Never did thank you for interfering there.” He walked off, with Loree staring after him.

“I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side,” she said quietly.

“I don’t think you have to worry. That’s the closest thing to an ‘I owe you’ that I’ve ever heard from Dallas,” Austin said.

Austin studied the abundance of food that stretched the length of the heavy oak table. Every time he turned around, Dee or Amelia came through the door that led to the kitchen, carrying more food. He picked up something that looked like a tiny pie, held it beneath his nose, and sniffed. It smelled like raisins. “What’s this?”

Amelia stopped slicing off pieces of pound cake and looked up. “Mincemeat pie.”

Austin gave her a slow nod and popped it into his mouth. A combination of tangy and sweet hit his tongue. “Pretty good,” he said as he swallowed and reached for another one.

“Would you do me a favor and tell Maggie she can come decorate the cookies now?”

“Sure,” he said as he snitched another pie and headed toward the parlor. He never would have believed that Dallas’s big old adobe house would seem so warm and cozy. Dee had added so many small touches. Wreathes on the doors, greenery here and there, red ribbons, and satiny bows.

He rounded the corner to go into the parlor and staggered to a stop in the doorway, his path blocked by Becky, who had obviously been planning to leave the parlor. Her face burned crimson, reminding him of the stockings Dee had hung over the fireplace. Then her pale blue gaze shot upward. He slowly shifted his gaze to the arch above his head and his stomach tightened like a ribbon wound too tight around a package.

Damn mistletoe!

If it had been anyone else standing there—Dee or Amelia—he would have laughed heartily and given her a sound kiss on the lips. But not Becky. Five long years had passed since he’d held her, kissed her, been close enough to smell her vanilla scent, and count the freckles on her nose.

He didn’t have to look into the parlor to know that they’d managed to gain everyone’s attention. His mouth went as dry as a dust storm. Becky gave him a shaky smile, and he recognized the silent plea in her pretty blue eyes, but damn if he could figure out what she was asking for.

He swallowed hard, lowered his head, bussed a quick kiss across her cheek, and turned to the side, giving her the freedom to slip past him. He’d never been so glad to hear anything as he was to hear the rapid click of her shoes as she left the room.

Reaching up, he snatched the mistletoe from its mooring and glared briefly at his oldest brother, daring him to say anything about what he’d just done.

“Maggie—” his voice sounded like that of a drowning man coming up for the last time. He cleared his throat. “Maggie, your ma says the cookies are ready for decorating.”

Maggie shoved the present she’d been shaking back under the tree and raced out of the parlor.

Austin crossed the room and hunkered down beside the rocking chair. Loree stilled her gentle swaying and met his gaze. He brushed a stray curl away from her cheek. “Think you can give Houston back his daughter and come with me for a minute?”

She nodded slightly and eased up on the seat. Austin slipped his hand beneath her elbow and helped her stand. Houston stopped helping his other three daughters paste bits of colored paper into a chain and stood.

“ ‘Preciate your getting her to sleep. Sometimes there’s nothing like a woman’s touch.”

“Kin Aunt Loree rock me?” Amanda asked.

“Maybe after a while,” Houston said patiently. “I think your uncle Austin needs her right now.”

His brother couldn’t have spoken truer words. Austin wrapped his hand around Loree’s and guided her from the room. The women’s laughter spilled out of the dining room. He cast a hesitant glance at Loree. “Did you want to join them?”

“Maybe later. I thought you needed something.”

“I do,” he admitted as he opened the door to Dallas’s study.

A low fire burning within the hearth served as the only light in the room. The drapes were drawn back to reveal the cloudless night sky, a thousand stars, and a bright golden moon. “I just needed a little solitude. I’d take you outside if it weren’t so cold,” he said as he led her to the window that covered most of the wall.

“I like being in here where it’s warm, knowing that it’s cold out there,” she said quietly.

He trailed his fingers along her cheek and cupped her chin. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, kissing Becky in the doorway … I didn’t know what to do … if I hurt you—”

“You didn’t. She and Cameron were friends, now they’re family. Our paths are going to cross constantly, and not always in ways we’d prefer, but I can accept that.” She lowered her lashes. “Besides, she looked as uncomfortable as you did.”

“Guess you could kiss Cameron to get even with me.”

“Now, why would I want to kiss Cameron when I love you?”

She ducked her head as though embarrassed while his heart pounded like an untamed stallion thundering over the plains. He’d heard those three little words before, in his youth, but they hadn’t managed then to bring him to his knees. Right now, he wasn’t certain how long he could remain standing. She loved him. This sweet little woman loved him.

“Loree?”

Loree glanced up and watched Austin dangle the mistletoe in front of her nose. She smiled warmly. “You don’t need that.”

She raised up on her toes, entwined her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his. He welcomed her as he had that first night when they had each needed comfort. His mouth was hot and devouring as though he couldn’t get enough of tasting her.

She hadn’t planned to tell him that she’d come to love him, but she had thought he needed to hear the words as badly as she did. She knew she couldn’t compete with his memories, but she’d grown weary of worrying how the past—his and hers—might affect their future.

She had this moment, when he held her as though he would never release her, this moment, when the world contained all that mattered: warmth, security, and the possibility of love. She had no doubts that he cared for her and treasured her. Maybe not in the same manner that he had Becky, but he had been younger then. Now and then, she would catch glimpses of the young man he might have been. She could not return to him his youth, but she could give him her love—unconditionally.

And if he continued to love another, she would not allow her love for him to diminish.

He trailed his mouth along the sensitive area below her ear. She felt as though the fire had jumped from the hearth and was surrounding her, flames licking at her flesh. He nimbly unbuttoned the top buttons on her bodice and dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, needing his strength to prevent her from melting into the floor.

“Ah, Sugar,” he rasped, his breath skimming along the curve of her bosom, “why don’t we ever do this at home?”

She dropped her head back, giving him easier access. “Your promise, I guess.”

“My promise?” His lips moved lower. “My promise? Dammit to hell!” He pressed his mouth to the valley between her breasts. “I was only thinking of you, Loree. I swear to God, I was only thinking of you.”

He pulled away from her, braced his forearm on the window, and pressed his forehead against the glass, his breathing harsh and labored. Studying his tortured profile, she watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallowed. Tears stung her eyes. Without thought she had answered his question with the excuse that she gave herself each night when he simply held her and didn’t ask for more.

“Austin—”

Reaching out, he took her hand, brought it to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her fingertips. “We probably ought to get back to the others. I’ll need to pass out the presents soon.”

Turning he gave her a wayward smile and began to button her bodice. “You make me forget all about propriety, Loree … and promises.” He slipped the last button through its loop and straightened her collar. “One of these days, Sugar, I’m gonna kiss you until
you
forget about promises.”

“Promise?” she asked, a hint of teasing in her voice.

His eyes grew warm. “Promise.”

He slipped his fingers between hers, pressing his rough palm against hers. “Come on. My favorite part of Christmas is nearly here.”

His excitement was infectious as he led her from Dallas’s office. They’d create new memories to replace the old, and she imagined each Christmas would simply be more wonderful than the one that had come before.

They walked into the parlor. Someone had lit the candles on the branches of the evergreen tree. The flames flickered, making the shadows dance around the room.

The drapes were drawn open. The night eased inside. The fire in the hearth burned brightly. Everyone had gathered inside the room, some sitting, some standing, many of the children sprawled over the floor.

“Oh, there you are,” Dee said smiling. She took Loree’s free hand. “We have a tradition of singing a song before we open presents. We were wondering if you’d play the piano while we sang.”

Loree felt the comfort of belonging slip around her like a warm blanket as Austin squeezed her hand. “I’d love to. What should I play?”

“ ‘Silent Night’?”

“One of my favorites,” Loree said as she released Austin’s hand and walked to the piano. She sat on the bench and swiped her damp palms along her skirt. Austin came to stand beside her.

“You’ll do fine,” he mouthed.

She smiled and nodded. “Hope so.”

“All right, everyone, Loree is going to play ‘Silent Night.’ Everyone stand so we can sing together as a family,” Dee commanded.

Loree glanced over her shoulder. The husbands and wives had gathered their children around them, distinct families that came together to form one. Where was a photographer when they needed one?

She wiped her hands again on her skirt before placing her fingers on the ivory keys. The notes sounded and the room filled with off-key voices—and for the first time ever, she heard her husband’s voice lifted in song. He carried the tune like no one else in the room, as though the melody were part of him.

His gaze captured hers, holding her entranced, and she wished the song would never end, but eventually it drifted away, leaving a moment of respectful silence in its wake.

Austin smiled at her, rubbed his hands together as though in anticipation, and took a step away from the piano. Loree twisted around on the piano bench to watch the exchange of gifts.

“You can help me pass out presents, Brat,” Rawley said as he knelt in front of the tree.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Maggie countered as she dropped beside him. “I’ve been helping you forever.”

Austin still smiling, stepped back, and sank onto the bench beside Loree, his gaze focused on the tree. He took her hand. “Thought you played really nice,” he said, his voice low.

She thought her heart might break as she remembered him saying earlier that he needed to pass out the presents. In the years while he was away, the responsibility had obviously fallen to Rawley until everyone had forgotten a time when anyone else had passed them out.

She squeezed Austin’s arm. “It surprised me, hearing how well you sang.”

He shrugged. “Use to enjoy music.”

“I wish you’d let me teach you to play—”

“Here, Uncle Austin, this one’s for you,” Maggie said, holding out a large package.

“Well, I’ll be,” Austin said with a smile as he shook the box. “This is almost as big as the box Rawley got the first year that you helped me pass out the presents. You remember that?”

Maggie furrowed her brow and shook her head. “What’d he get?”

“A saddle.”

“I don’t ‘member.”

Austin touched her nose. “Doesn’t matter. You’d better get back to helping him.”

She scurried away. Loree leaned close and whispered, “She couldn’t have been very old when you left—”

“Three.”

He looked at her and smiled sadly. “Guess we can’t always choose which memories we keep when we start growing up.”

But she knew she would forever hold the memory of her husband’s first Christmas after his release from prison. Even with her by his side, she thought he’d never looked more lonely.

A
ustin awoke as he had for several months, long before the sun came up, with his wife curled against his side, her furled hand resting on the center of his bare chest. He loved these first moments of awareness, hearing Loree’s breathing, feeling her warmth, knowing they would be his for the remainder of his life.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and gingerly moved away from her. She sighed softly and shifted over until she was nestled in the spot where he had been. He brought the blankets over her shoulders.

He carried the lamp to the dresser and increased the flame by a hair’s breadth. He glanced toward the bed. Loree hadn’t stirred. He turned back to his task and ran his hand over the wooden violin case she’d given him for Christmas. On the top, someone had carved his name in fancy script. His gift to her—a small music box—had paled in comparison.

“If you’re not going to play your mother’s violin, you need to keep it protected,” Loree had told him. “Someday, maybe your son will play it.”

His son. He thought of Drew’s tiny fingers and wondered when a child’s fingers would be long enough to play a violin. Houston’s daughter Laurel could probably play. She was five now, but still she’d need a smaller violin.

He imagined the joys of teaching a child the wonders of music. He could teach his own children … He unfolded one of the sheets of music Loree had given him. All the black dots looked like bugs crawling over the page. Reading them was nothing like reading a book. Loree could teach his children to play.

Quietly he donned his clothes and slipped into the hallway. The house seemed incredibly quiet after all the festivity the night before. The children had finally fallen asleep around midnight, giving up their quest to actually see Santa Claus. Their stockings were now filled with goodies and additional presents were waiting under the tree in the parlor.

He crept down the wide winding staircase and grabbed his sheepskin jacket from the coat rack by the front door. Then he walked into the kitchen, prepared his morning coffee, and stepped onto the back porch.

He settled onto the top step, wrapped his hands around the warm tin cup, and waited … waited for the first ray of sun to touch the sky and reveal its beauty … waited to hear the music in his soul that had always accompanied the sunrise before he’d gone to prison.

He heard the door open and glanced over his shoulder, anticipating the sight of his wife, rumpled from sleep.

“What are you doing?” Cameron asked.

He averted his gaze and tightened his hold on the cup. “I
was
enjoying the sunrise.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Austin shrugged. “It ain’t my porch.”

Cameron dropped beside him and wrapped his arms around his middle. “Cold out this morning.”

Austin watched the steam rise from his coffee.

“Loree seems nice,” Cameron said.

Austin sliced his gaze over to Cameron. “She is nice.”

Cameron nodded. “She doesn’t look like she’s got much longer to go.”

Austin narrowed his eyes. “You counting the months? ‘Cuz if you are, I’ll have to take you out behind the barn and teach you a lesson in minding your own business.”

“Nah, I wasn’t counting. I was just saying. That’s all.”

“Good, ‘cuz I wouldn’t like it at all if you were counting months.” Austin extended the cup toward Cameron. “Take a sip on that before your clattering teeth wake everyone up. It’ll help warm you.”

Cameron took the cup without hesitating and downed a long swallow before handing it back. “Thanks.”

“Becky would probably never forgive me if I let you freeze to death out here,” Austin said, squinting into the distance, searching for that first hint of sunlight.

“She missed you like hell while you were in prison.” Cameron clasped his hands between his knees. “So did I.”

Austin laughed mirthlessly. “You two had a hell of a way of showing me that.”

A suffocating silence wove itself between them, around them. Austin saw dawn’s feathery fingers pushing back the night.

“After Boyd died, my pa didn’t want anything to do with me since I didn’t approve of what Boyd had done—paying someone to kill Dallas. Dallas offered me a job—”

Austin turned his attention toward Cameron. “You would have wet your britches every time he gave you an order.”

A smile tugged on the corner of Cameron’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s what I figured so I went to work for Becky’s pa. She and I put a box in the storage room. Every time we got in some new contraption, we’d put it in the box because she knew how much you loved new contraptions.”

Austin took a sip on his coffee before handing the cup back to Cameron. “Didn’t really care about them one way or the other. They were just an excuse to go into town and see Becky.”

Cameron gulped on the black brew and passed it back. “She wrote you some letters. Couldn’t bring herself to address them to you in prison, though. She couldn’t stand to think of you being there so she just put them in the box so they’d be waiting for you when you got home.”

Austin cut his blue-eyed glare over to Cameron. “One of those letters tell me how she fell in love with you?”

“I doubt it … since she never fell in love with me.” He watched Cameron swallow. “We’d been married a little over eight months when Drew was born.”

“Babies come early.”

“He didn’t. My pa was dying. He asked to see me. I always had the feeling he didn’t like me much. Never knew why, but he didn’t want to die without telling me that I didn’t come from his loins. It took him six years to realize my mother had fallen in love with the foreman. His name was Joe Armstrong. My pa—I can’t stop thinking of him as my pa—said he shot Joe Armstrong through the heart and buried him where no one would ever find him.”

“You believe him?”

Cameron nodded. “Yeah. Dee remembered the foreman. Said I’d always reminded her of him, but she was so innocent she never put things together.”

“And when you found out the truth, you turned to Becky.”

Cameron gave him a jerky nod. “Her pa had died a few months before so I guess she knew how I was grieving. I’d loved her forever, but I didn’t mean for things to turn out the way they did.” He planted his elbows on his thighs and buried his face in his hands. “Christ, I never wanted her to
have
to marry me.”

Austin looked toward the golden light sweeping across the horizon—as brilliant a hue as Loree’s eyes. He wondered if she was awake yet. It was past time for her to join him on the porch. Lord, he missed her.

“Drew seems like a good kid,” he said quietly.

Cameron’s head came up. “Oh, he’s great. And Becky adores him. I was afraid she might resent him—like my pa resented me—but she doesn’t. She loves him with all her heart.”

“She loves you, too, Cameron.” The words cut deeply, lancing the wound that had been left to fester too long.

Doubt plunged into Cameron’s eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“Why in the hell would I tell you that if it weren’t true? Don’t you think it would ease my pride to think she still loved me?”

“I haven’t touched her since you got out of prison. I was afraid … afraid she’d wish it was you. I couldn’t stand the thought that maybe she was thinking of you while I was loving her.”

Austin tossed the remaining coffee over the cold ground. He’d made Loree a promise and suddenly, it didn’t seem as though it would be difficult to keep. Whatever he and Becky had once had … was nothing more than a distant memory.

“A blind fool could see that she loves you more than she ever loved me. Why in the hell do you think I’ve been so angry all these months? Not because she married you. But because she didn’t love me as much as she loves you.”

“Yeah?”

Austin gave a brisk nod. “Yeah.” He studied Cameron a minute. “You said your pa killed your real father?”

Cameron gave a slow hesitant nod. “Hard to believe I lived with a murderer all those years and never knew it.”

“You think there’s a chance he might have killed Boyd?”

“It occurred to me, more than once, but why would he have killed Boyd? Boyd could do no wrong as far as he was concerned.”

Austin heaved a deep sigh. “Damn. Wish I knew who killed him. I don’t like having this guilty verdict hanging over my head.”

“Doesn’t seem to bother Loree.”

“Loree looks at the world differently than most people. Someone murdered her family, but she somehow managed to hold onto a portion of her innocence. I’m afraid if we stay here … if she hears too many people whispering about me, speculating on who I might murder next … that she’ll lose that little bit of innocence.”

“You thinking of leaving?”

Austin shrugged. “I don’t know where we’d go or what I’d do so probably not, but I think about it sometimes. Houston told me once that when a man loves a woman, he does what’s best for her, no matter what the cost to himself. I’d pay any price to see Loree happy.”

“She seems happy enough.”

“I think I can make her happier. I know I can. Houston told me that he thought he might have fallen in love with Amelia the minute he saw her. I didn’t feel that way with Loree, but when she stepped out of that house, I felt as though … I’d come home.”

“Do you think Dallas fell in love with Dee when he first laid eyes on her?”

Austin shook his head, joyful memories surging through his mind like a kaleidoscope of forgotten images. “Nope. He probably fell in love with her when he discovered she had a nose. Do you remember the look on his face when he lifted her veil and saw her face for the first time?” Austin chuckled.

Cameron started laughing. “His face? You should have seen
your
face!”

“Mine? What about yours?”

Their laughter grew louder, mingling with the dawn.

Loree slipped her fingers between the kitchen curtains and peered through the tiny opening. Austin laughed so hard that he very nearly doubled over, his chin almost hitting his drawn up knees.

“Oh my God!” Becky whispered behind her. “Tell me that’s Austin and Cameron laughing.”

Loree stepped back, surprised to see tears brimming in Becky’s eyes as she peeked through the curtain.

“I could not have asked for a better Christmas present.” Becky squeezed her eyes shut and released a quick breath. “It almost killed Cameron to lose Austin’s friendship.” She opened her eyes and grabbed Loree’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go sit with them.”

“I’m not sure we should—”

“Oh, I am. I know it’ll never be like it was … but this is sure close.” Becky opened the door. “What are you two laughing about?” she demanded of the men sitting on the porch.

Holding her breath, Loree peered around Becky who stood with her hands planted on her hips, her legs akimbo. She saw Austin’s smile increase, his eyes grow warm as he held out his hand. She wanted to crawl back into the house and die until she realized that his gaze was latched onto her.

“Come here, Sugar,” he said in a slow drawl that sent her heart to racing.

She skirted around Becky and slipped her hand into his, thinking his had never felt so warm or comforting, so right as his fingers wrapped around her hand and he pulled her down to his lap. He opened his jacket and tucked her inside like she was a piece of fine jewelry to be protected between velvet. He held her close with one arm and enveloped her bare feet with his other hand. She was eye-level with him and from the intensity of his blue gaze, she would have thought he were only aware of the two of them sitting on this porch in the cold dawn.

“What were you laughing about?” Becky repeated as she plopped onto Cameron’s lap and nearly sent him sprawling backward over the porch.

“We were remembering the day that Dallas married Dee,” Cameron said, straightening himself and putting his arms around Becky.

“What was so funny about that?” Becky asked.

“Cameron had told me that Indians cut off Dee’s nose,” Austin said, his gaze never leaving Loree. She grew warmer, but she thought it had little to do with the heat of his body burning through her clothing. “I told Dallas. It came as a surprise to him to discover his wife had a nose.”

“I remember now. Everyone’s mouth dropped open when he lifted her veil, but I never knew why,” Becky said. She wrinkled her brow. “He married her, thinking she didn’t have a nose?”

“He was a desperate man,” Austin said quietly. “Desperate men don’t always think things through.”

Loree wanted to tell him that desperate women didn’t think things through either. She had been desperate once, so incredibly desperate that she had done something she never would have believed herself capable of doing. At unexpected times the memory would strike like a rattlesnake … only a rattlesnake gave warning. Her memory from hell wasn’t as kind.

She heard the tread of heavy feet and twisted slightly. Dallas rounded the corner, burlap sacks bunched in his hand.

“What in the hell are you doing lollygagging back here?” he demanded without breaking his stride. He tossed the burlap sacks onto the porch. “Get this hay picked up.”

Reaching behind him, Austin grabbed the sacks and handed a couple to Cameron. “Guess we’d better get to it.”

Loree slid off his lap and tightened her wrap around herself. “I need to get dressed.”

Austin’s hand clamped onto her waist, preventing her from slipping back into the house.

“Me, too,” Becky said. “I’ll see you in a little bit, Cameron.”

“Be sure and get the hay off the balcony in Rawley’s room.”

She smiled. “Guess he forgot we were going to sleep in his room last night.” She disappeared into the house.

Austin shifted his gaze from Loree to Cameron. “Why don’t you go on? I’ll catch up.”

“Sure thing.” Cameron hopped off the porch and headed toward a distant scattering of hay.

Austin returned his gaze to her, his fingers tightening their hold.

“Is everything all right?” she asked.

She watched his Adam’s apple slowly slide up and down. His blue eyes smoldered like flames on the verge of coming back to life. “Everything is just fine. As a matter of fact, I think it’s been fine for a while and I just didn’t notice.” He cradled her cheek. “I love you, Loree.”