Texas Moon TH4 (51 page)

"If that's what you want, I don't mind. We'll just have to wait until the baby is old enough to travel," she answered serenely, not taking up the challenge in his voice.

"I'll never be rich this way," he warned. "I can't keep going back and forth between this damned mountain and Ohio. If we don't strike gold this time, we might be better off going back East and staying."

"If that's really what you want to do." She knew it wasn't. She knew he wanted to be out here in the vast open spaces where men were judged by what they did and not who they were. He wanted to show he could make it on his own. He didn't want to be counted a failure out here. But she knew he wouldn't be. Peter had the ability to do whatever he set his mind to. All she had to do was keep his formidable mind diverted from worrying about her and the child.

Knowing when he was being placated, Peter grunted and concentrated on persuading the oxen up the hill to the cabin. He'd set out this time with enough money to provide some of the niceties for their home, and the iron stove they hauled slowed their progress.

"Do you think the gold we left behind will still be there?" Janice asked. She really didn't care about the gold now that the child inside her consumed all her concentration, but Peter's thoughts needed diverting. Pillow fights worked very well in the bedroom, but in public she had to be a little more diplomatic. "It was good of Tyler to let you wait until now to pay him back."

Peter grinned. "He was feeling generous after he made all that money on that stock I told him to buy. He had enough to buy that crazy horse of his back and then some." He shrugged as he returned to her question. "I don't see any reason why the gold shouldn't be there. It's just dangerous to take it down to be assayed until we have the operation going and more protection up here."

At a shout from Betsy, Peter grabbed his rifle and halted the oxen. He had the horse he'd left behind tied to the rear of the wagon, thanks to Townsend and the town storekeeper. If he could get to it...

Betsy and her mount burst around the curve of the trail, followed more sedately by Townsend on his rugged pony. Betsy slid to a halt beside the wagon, and Townsend shifted his hat back and grinned through a winter's worth of beard.

"Glad to see you back, partner. Thought maybe you'd grown soft and decided to desert me."

"Leave you with a mountain full of gold? Do you take me for a fool?" Peter grumbled, but the jest was in his eyes.

"Silver," Townsend replied, "mountain full of silver."

Janice's eyes widened but she remained silent as Peter stared at his partner. Betsy bounced up and down and showed a rock in her hand, but Janice continued to hold her breath while she waited for Peter to say something. Peter knew this man. He would know whether this was a joke or not.

Townsend nodded to the rock Betsy held out. "That came from the lode you struck when you pitched that fit and threw your pick into the mountain. It's a mite hard to get at, but once I made my way up there, I found plenty more. Gold's still there, too, but I figure we can use the silver for start-up money until we can get the excavation going."

Peter took the rock and held it up to the light. As he looked from the rock to Townsend, he slowly began to grin. "I'm the money manager around here, remember. I'll figure what we go after first."

Townsend tugged his hat down to disguise the laughter in his eyes. "Yassuh, massuh, suh." He glanced at Janice's newly rounded figure. "But it looks to me like you found other business to tend to and now you're short one bookkeeper. That don't look to me like any way to run a business."

Peter gave a long whistle and turned to Janice. "When the hired help starts getting uppity like that, it means there's money in his pockets. We might be building that mansion yet."

Janice smiled serenely and hugged Betsy as she climbed on the wagon seat to join them. "Just so it has a bedroom with a door that closes and lots of pillows, that's all I ask."

Peter smiled and set the team into motion. "I want a bathtub with lots of bubbles." He sent Janice a sideways glance. "I made sure that harem outfit got packed."

Janice pursed her lips and tried to look disapproving, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I'm sure I can find the clown costume," she replied evenly.

Betsy hooted and patted Janice's stomach. "I think the clown suit will fit better on Mama Janice." She gave a sly look through her lashes at the tall man beside her. "So I guess Papa Peter will have to wear the pretty silks."

Townsend roared with laughter, and the others joined him, but Peter and Janice exchanged looks over Betsy's head. Whatever Betsy guessed about her parentage she seemed to have accepted with the blithe innocence of security. They were well on their way to being more than the parents of an infant. They were going to be the proud parents of an exceptionally talented and devious ten-year-old.

Janice hugged her daughter and Peter whistled a happy tune as they pulled into the cabin clearing. He hadn't even known he could whistle, he realized as they stopped before the home they could call their own.

It wasn't much, but it was theirs.

Betsy clambered out of the wagon with a ten-year-old's disgust as Peter leaned over to kiss his wife. It would be years before the child would understand that it was love that made them wealthy. For now, Betsy was more interested in finding the paints she'd left behind.

Peter tipped Janice's chin upward with his knuckle so he could look into her eyes. "I love you," he murmured so only she could hear.

"I know, and for that, I'll forgive you anything." She met his lips with her own.

"Anything?" he murmured wickedly against her mouth.

"Almost anything," she answered severely, pulling his head down closer.

And because he knew he was an impossible man, he knew he would put that promise to the test more often than he cared to think. He also knew that she would never fail him.

He closed his eyes and deepened the kiss. He might covet gold, but he'd already found his treasure.

The End

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TEXAS LILY

Too Hard To Handle

Book One

Excerpt from

Texas Lily

Too Hard To Handle

Book One

by

Patricia Rice

New York Times Bestselling Author

TEXAS LILY

Awards & Reviews

4 ½ Stars – Romantic Times

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"Ms. Rice is in her element as she gives us a recipe for romance... one delicious read."

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Romantic Times

Anger welled, as it always did when someone made fun of her height. She should have been born a man, she had been told more than once. Well, she had done her best to turn herself into one. She would behave as one now. She sat tall in her saddle and waited to see the rest of the joke that had been perpetrated on her.

The man's long black hair was straight as a stick but evidently clean. With a shock she realized his bronzed features and angular cheekbones were undoubtedly Indian, although she suspected something of the Spanish in his heritage also, if for no other reason than the proud arrogance of his nose and the jut of his square jaw. This was not a man she could control with a few sharp words.