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Authors: Texas Glory

Lorraine Heath (37 page)

BOOK: Lorraine Heath
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“Then I’ll move to another town, where no one knows me. As long as men continue to lay rails for the trains, towns will flourish along the tracks and hotels will be in demand.”

“You’re looking at years of hardship—”

“A year ago the thought would have terrified me.” Tears rose, and she fought them back. “But I’m a stronger person for having been your wife.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “You were always strong, Dee. You just didn’t know it.”

At this moment she felt incredibly weak. She wanted to cross the expanse separating them and let him enfold her in his embrace. Instead, she tilted her chin. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

“Fine.” He turned away from her. “If that’s what you want.”

She didn’t want it, but life gave her no choice, not even the illusion of a choice. She wanted Dallas to be happy, and he would never be happy if she stayed by his side.

“About Rawley. I thought it would be best for him if he could stay here.”

“I’ve got no problem with that. He’s already drawing wages.”

“I’ll explain things to him then before I leave. Will I see you in the morning?”

“Probably not. I need to check on my herd.”

“Then I’ll say good-bye. In spite of the heartache we’ve suffered, I’ll take some cherished memories with me, and I thank you for that.”

“Goddammit! I don’t want your gratitude.” He spun around, anger flaring in his eyes. “I never wanted your gratitude.”

“That’s too bad because you have it.”

A ghost of a smile flitted over his face. “Whatever happened to the shy woman I married, the woman who cowered when I kicked in the bedroom door? You’d probably throw your brush at me now.”

“Yes, I think I would.” If her fingers hadn’t been trembling, she might have gone with her instincts and reached out to comb the wayward lock of hair off his brow. “On your next wedding night, don’t kick in the door.”

“I won’t.”

His quietly spoken words hurt far more than she had expected them to. He would have another wedding night, another wife … the son he desired—all that she wanted him to have. The knowledge should have filled her with joy, not pain.

“I need to start packing.” She walked halfway across the office, stopped, and glanced over her shoulder. “Dallas, next time hand your wife the flowers instead of leaving them on the bed. She might discover them too late.”

She strolled out of the room while everything inside her screamed to stay.

Rawley Cooper knew too much about sadness not to recognize it when he saw it.

Miz Dee was about the saddest-looking person he’d ever seen. He thought she might even be sadder than she’d been the night they whipped Mr. Leigh.

She sat on the edge of his bed, wearing a smile that looked like she’d drawn it on a piece of paper and slapped it over her lips. It wasn’t warm like her smiles usually were. It didn’t reach up and touch her eyes.

At any moment, he expected her to cry, and she was holding his hand so tightly that he was surprised he hadn’t heard a bone crack. With trembling fingers, she brushed the hair off his brow. It fell back into place, and she brushed it again, over and over.

“I love you, Rawley,” she finally said quietly.

Those were the prettiest words he’d ever heard, and he was afraid he’d be the one who cried. He wished he could say them back to her because he did love her, but the words couldn’t get past the pain in his chest.

“I wanted you to know that because I’m going to be leaving, and it has nothing to do with you.”

“Leaving?” he croaked.

“Yes, I’m going to build hotels in other towns.” “What about Mr. Leigh?” “He’s going to stay here and take care of you.” “You gonna come back?”

She bit her bottom lip. “No. So I need you to do two very special things for me. I need you to take care of Precious, and I need you to take care of Mr. Leigh. When he has a new wife, I know she will love you as much as I do.”

She stood and pulled back the covers. “Now get into bed.”

He crawled beneath the blankets. She tucked the ends around his shoulders. Then as always, she leaned down to kiss his forehead. He threw his arms around her neck.

“I love you, Miz Dee. Please don’t go.”

She hugged him close. “I have to, Rawley. Because I love you and Mr. Leigh, I have to leave.”

“He won’t let you go. Mr. Leigh won’t let you go.”

She pulled back, and her gaze roamed over his face as though she were trying to etch it in her mind. “Yes, he will. He always gives me what I want, but I can’t give him what he wants.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his forehead—a final kiss, the last one he would ever receive—and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

A glimmer of moonlight filtered through the window. Rawley could see the key in the lock. He no longer felt a need to turn it.

He rolled to his side, curled into a ball, and watched the shadows dance over the walls. He thought about slipping out of the room, finding Mr. Leigh, and talking to him man to man about Miz Dee leaving, but he didn’t see the point.

Mr. Leigh was a man who knew how to fight for what he wanted. Rawley figured sooner or later, Mr. Leigh would decide on his own that he wanted Miz Dee to stay with him.

The clock downstairs chimed midnight as Cordelia placed the last of her belongings into a box.

Heaving a deep sigh, she stretched to work the ache out of her back. She was incredibly tired, but she knew sleep would elude her. It had ever since Dallas had stopped sleeping in her bed, his body draped over hers.

She had thought about asking him to sleep with her tonight, just to hold her, but she feared it would make her leaving that much harder on them both. The memories of what had been, what might have been, would have been rekindled. As it was, they were slowly fading into glowing embers.

She walked across the room, drew back the drapes, opened the door, and stepped onto the balcony. A million stars twinkled in the black velvety sky. From the top of a windmill, she had viewed the land through Dallas’s eyes.

She wondered why she had ever thought it desolate.

She heard a horse whinny and glanced toward the corral. Her heart pounding, she eased closer to the edge of the balcony.

She could see her husband sitting on the corral railing, his shoulders slumped, his head bent.

If she didn’t know how strong a man Dallas Leigh was … she would have thought he was weeping.

With a painful knot forming in her chest, Cordelia watched as Slim loaded the last of her boxes into the wagon.

She held close to her heart the farewell Rawley had given her last night. It had been so hard to release him, to leave him alone in his room, but her leaving was for the best.

She didn’t know what the future held for her, where she would go, what exactly she would do, but she knew Rawley needed stability and he would find it here with Dallas.

Dallas was part of the land, his roots buried deep within the soil.

The bump of the last box hitting the floor of the wagon echoed around her. Her chest tightened in response. Her mouth grew dry, her eyes stinging as she searched for fortitude.

Slim turned and wiped his hands on his trousers. “Well, that’s it. You taking your horse?”

Lemon Drop. She had ridden the horse beside Dallas. She nodded.

“I’ll get her and your gear, then.”

In long strides, Slim began to walk toward the barn. Cordelia heard the front door slam and heavy footsteps resound from the veranda. She had hoped Dallas had gone to check on his herd as he’d said he would last night. She didn’t know if she could survive one more farewell.

She pivoted and met Dallas’s unflinching gaze. He leaned against the beam, his hands stationed behind his back, his eyes dark, his expression hard. He reminded her of a predatory animal, waiting, waiting to strike.

She intertwined her fingers, searching for the words that would lessen the pain of her departure, but the words remained hidden. She cleared her throat. “Everything is packed. Slim is getting Lemon Drop. I suppose it’s all right if I take the horse.”

Dallas only glared at her, like a wooden statue in front of a store. If a muscle in his jaw hadn’t jerked, she might have thought he’d turned to stone. She took his silence as approval. “Do you want to contact the lawyer or should I?” she asked.

His stare intensified.

“I suppose I should talk with him,” she said into the silence permeating the air. “I’ll tell him to send word to you regarding the best way to handle this matter. I’m going to stay in our room at the hotel until I decide exactly where I’m going to go. I’m fairly certain that I won’t stay in Leighton. I think it would be easier on us if I left. I’ll let you know what I decide.” The words were running out of her mouth now, and she seemed unable to stop them. She knew the tears would not be far behind. “I wish you all the happiness you deserve.”

She spun around and hurried toward the front of the wagon.

“Stay.”

The strangled word, spoken in anguish, tore at her heart, ripped through her resolve. She swiped at the tears raining over her cheeks and slowly turned, forcing the painful truth past her lips. “I can’t stay. I can no longer give you what you want. I can’t give you a son.”

Dallas stepped off the veranda and extended a bouquet of wildflowers toward her. “Then stay and give me what I need.”

Her heart lurched at the abundance of flowers wilting within his smothering grasp. She shook her head vigorously. “You don’t need me. There are a dozen eligible women in Leighton who would happily give you a son and within the month there will be at least a dozen more—”

“I’ll never love any of them as much as I love you. I know that as surely as I know the sun will come up in the morning.”

Her breath caught, her trembling increased, words lodged in her throat. He loved her? She watched as he swallowed.

“I know I’m not an easy man. I don’t expect you to ever love me, but if you’ll tolerate me, I give you my word that I’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy—”

Quickly stepping forward, she pressed her shaking fingers against his warm lips. “My God, don’t you know that I love you? Why do you think I’m leaving? I’m leaving because I do love you—so much. Dallas, I want you to have your dream, I want you to have your son.”

Closing his eyes, he laid his roughened hand over hers where it quivered against his lips and pressed a kiss against the heart of her palm.

“I can’t promise that I won’t have days when I’ll look toward the horizon and feel the aching emptiness that comes from knowing we’ll never have a child to pass our legacy on to …” Opening his eyes, he captured her gaze. “But I know the emptiness you’ll leave behind will eat away at me every minute of every day.

“When I was a boy, I went to war searching for glory. I didn’t find it. I came here, thinking I’d find glory if I built a ranching empire or a thriving town.” He trailed his thumb over her lips. “Instead I discovered that I didn’t even know what glory was, not until you smiled at me for the first time with no fear in your eyes.”

His gaze swept beyond her, to encompass all that surrounded them. “A hundred years from now, everything I’ve worked so hard to build will be nothing more than dust blowing in the wind, but if I can spend my life loving you, I’ll die a wealthy man, a contented man.”

Tears overflowed and spilled onto her cheeks.

“Stay with me,” he said.

Nodding mutely, she wrapped her arms around his neck. The flowers floated to the ground as he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the house.

“Your back,” she said as he started up the stairs. “You shouldn’t be carrying me.”

“My back’s fine.”

It wasn’t fine. It would forever carry the scars he’d earned trying to protect her. A hundred times she’d wondered what she might have done differently to prevent his suffering. A hundred times, she could think of nothing.

Inside their room, she slid along his body until her feet touched the floor.

With infinite patience and tenderness, as though they had a lifetime to fill, he removed her clothing, pooling them at her feet. His knuckles skimmed the inside swell of her breast as he gathered the heart-shaped locket he’d given her for Christmas within the palm of his hand.

“I didn’t know you were wearing my gift,” he said huskily.

“I thought wearing it was the closest I’d come to ever holding your heart.”

“You’ve held my heart for so long that I can’t remember when you didn’t, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought if I gave you this, you’d figure it out. Discovered today that the words aren’t that hard to say. I love you.”

His mouth swooped down to covers hers, kissing her deeply, warmly. He had kissed her before, so many times before, but never like this ‥ as though her mouth were the only one he’d ever known, as though her lips were the only ones he’d ever teased, as though her kiss were the only one that would ever satisfy him.

He loved her, and as he carried her to the bed, she wondered why she’d never realized it before. He had shown her in so many different ways, enticing her into the sunlight until she cast her own shadow.

He shrugged out of his clothes and lay beside her. She trailed her fingers over his chest and his eyes darkened. She guided her hands to his back and felt the uneven ridges that he would forever carry. Tears welled in her eyes.

He cupped her cheek. “Don’t cry.”

“I hate that they did this to you.”

He kissed her cheek. “You have scars, too. I’d take them away if I could.”

But he couldn’t. They both knew it. His scars on the outside. Hers on the inside. They had both hovered near death. The scars would serve as a reminder of their triumph.

She braced her palms on either side of his face and held his unwavering gaze. “Dallas, are you sure you can give up your dream without coming to hate me?” ’

“You were my dream, Dee. I just didn’t know it. The part of me that I was always searching for.”

His lips found hers, hot and vibrant, full of life, desire. His hands touched and fondled, stoking the dying embers of her passion to a roaring blaze.

She kissed his neck, his chest, running her hands over his chest and lower, boldly stroking, relishing the deep guttural sounds that vibrated within his throat.

BOOK: Lorraine Heath
8.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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