Chapter Fourteen

A melia drew the remnants of a blanket over her shoulders. Dallas had torn the woolen blanket in half, the easiest way he knew to give her something that resembled a shawl.

The sun was easing over the horizon, painting the sky in lavender, the land in shadows. Beside her, Dallas matched his pace to hers, leaning on a cane, his limp slight. She thought that without the limp, he would be able to cover twice as much ground as she.

He stopped walking and pointed toward the setting sun. "See where the sun is going down? That's where my land ends."

He met her gaze. She didn't know if she'd ever seen a more handsome man, and she thought her heart should be tripping over itself with his attentions as he took her hand.

"When you wake in the morning, look out your window. Where the sun comes up is where my land begins." He brought her hand to his warm lips, his mustache tickling her flesh as he steadily held her gaze. "You're all that I imagined," he said quietly.

Her heart did trip over itself then, pounding fast and furious as though she were running, as though she wanted to run. She could think of nothing clever to say. Her tongue grew thick and useless. "I imagined you with blue eyes," she said, cringing with the inane comment as soon as the words left her mouth.

He raised a dark brow. "Blue eyes?"

She nodded. "Houston told me they were brown. And that you had a mustache. And that you cast a tall shadow." She glanced at the ground where his shadow stretched out behind her. Smiling self-consciously at her babbling, she looked up. "And he was right."

"I can't imagine Houston doing as much talking as it sounds like he did bringing you here."

"Only because I asked questions. He doesn't volunteer the information, but if you ask, he'll answer. Besides, it was a long journey."

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to come after you." He released her hand and leaned on the cane. "It was stupid of me to try and break a horse the day before I was to leave."

"Especially a black horse with a wavy tail and mane."

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, his brow furrowing deeply.

"Houston explained that a horse's coloring often tells him about its temperament. A black horse with a wavy tail and mane is usually mean-spirited."

"He said that, did he?"

"Yes. I don't remember what all the other colors mean, but he knows. You should ask him." She heard a horse whinny and glanced over her shoulder to see Houston in the corral, gathering the mustangs. "Is he leaving?"

"I imagine."

"I need to say good-bye."

"Why don't you run ahead and I'll catch up?" Dallas suggested.

"Thank you." The dust rose up around her as she ran to the corral. Houston was leaving, and she might not see him before she was married. She couldn't bear the thought. She skidded to a stop near the corral as Houston tied the last of his horses together.

He climbed over the railing and walked toward her, removing his hat to hit the dust off his trousers. She wanted to comb the hair off his brow.

"Enjoy your evening stroll?" he asked as he stopped before her.

"Yes. It was nice. Dallas is nice."

"Nice?" He smiled. "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear that you think he's nice."

"The ranch is huge."

"Yep, and you ain't even seen all of it. A man could travel for days without leaving Dallas's land."

"That's what we did, isn't it?" she asked. "Traveled for days on his land?"

"Three days."

"You could have signaled him sooner."

"Could have. Should have, but then I did a lot of things while traveling with you that I shouldn't have done."

She was grateful for every one of them. The memories would hold her for a lifetime, even if the man standing before her didn't. "I don't suppose there's a chance that some creature might haul the house away if we leave it unattended?"

He laughed, deeply, richly, and the warmth returned to Amelia's heart, a warmth that had disappeared when she'd moved from his side that morning.

"No, I don't imagine any critter is gonna haul the house away."

"It's … it's …"

"I told you that you needed to see it." "Why do you think—"

"A castle for his queen," he said, his smile easing away. He touched a finger to her cheek. "You're his queen."

"And if I don't want to be a queen? If I just want to be a wife?"

"He'll let you do that as well. One thing about Dallas, he's loyal to a fault. If you're by his side, he'll give you everything."

"Why didn't you tell him you don't think the barbed wire is a good idea?"

He narrowed his gaze. "What makes you think I don't think the barbed wire is a good idea?"

"I traveled with you for well over a month, shared your food, shared your bed—"

"Don't you dare tell Dallas that!" he hissed. "He'd tan my hide and hang it out to dry. You didn't share my bed, you just slept beside me."

"Is that all you think I did?" she asked.

"That is all you did."

"I came to care for you."

"You'll come to care for Dallas even more. You just haven't had much time with him."

"I'm going to miss listening to you snore at night."

"Amelia—"

"I'm going to miss you."

"I'm not that far away. If you need something, you can send Austin to fetch me."

"And you'll come?"

"I'll come."

She heard approaching footsteps and turned. Dallas and Austin walked toward her, Austin with a loose-jointed walk as though he hadn't a care in the world, Dallas stiffly as though he carried the burden of the world upon his shoulders.

The brothers stopped before her, and she felt a tension rise within Houston.

"I'll send word when the preacher gets back," Dallas said.

"I'll be waitin' for it," was all Houston said, and Amelia realized she wouldn't see him again until the day she married his brother. A keen sense of loss ricocheted through her.

"Austin and I will sleep in the bunkhouse until the preacher arrives," Dallas said.

"The bunkhouse!" Austin exclaimed, horror laced through his voice. "Why do we have to sleep in the bunkhouse?"

"Because it wouldn't be proper for an unmarried woman to sleep in a house alone with two men," Dallas explained, his voice strained.

"Why not? Houston slept with her—"

Houston grabbed Austin by the shirt and hauled him out of hearing range. Amelia thought she had heard material rip this time. The poor boy was going to need a sturdier shirt.

"You'll have to excuse Austin," Dallas said, drawing her attention away from the two men engaged in a heated discussion. "He hasn't had any women in his life and his education in certain matters is lacking."

"Houston said you're hoping more women will move out here once we're married."

He slipped his arm around hers and began walking toward the house. "I am hoping that this part of Texas will become more developed over time. My father told me once that some men are content to walk where others have gone." He turned and faced her. "I'm not one of those men. My aspirations and dreams are grander." He flushed, something she didn't think this man did often. "I know I sound like I'm full of myself, but we have an opportunity here to build an empire whose foundation is made up of dreams, hard work, and determination. I want you to share it with me. I want our children to inherit it."

He leaned down and kissed her on the brow as a brother might a favored sister. "I'm glad you're here. Sleep well."

He limped off the porch, leaving her to watch the fading sunset alone.

* * *

"Dallas? Dallas?" Austin whispered harshly.

Staring hard at the wooden beams running the length of the bunkhouse ceiling, his mind on weighty matters, Dallas sighed heavily. "What?"

"I don't recollect ever hearin' Houston laugh before. I didn't realize it until I heard him laugh this evening. You ever hear Houston laugh before?" Austin asked.

Dallas swallowed hard, fighting to push back the guilt. "He laughed a lot when we were boys … before the war."

"I'm thinkin' that you're right. Bringing women out here is gonna be a good thing. They sure make everything look prettier."

"Yeah, they do. Now, get yourself to sleep. We got business to tend to tomorrow. Can't stop working just because we've got a woman in the house."

"If you decide you don't want her, I'll take her."

"I'm not giving her up. Signed a contract saying I'd make her my wife if she traveled out here. A contract is like giving your word. I've never broken my word."

He slammed his eyes closed, knowing he'd find no sleep tonight. No matter what the cost, no matter who paid it … he'd never broken his word.

Sleep had been as elusive as the shadows hovering in the room, changing with the flickering flame from the lantern. Each time sleep drew near and Amelia grabbed it, she'd find herself searching for the feel of Houston's arms, the sound of his breathing, and the scent of horses and leather that was part of him. She'd awaken with a jolt, alone. She so hated being alone.

Sometime during the night, she'd slipped out of bed, draped a blanket over her shoulders, moved to the window, and welcomed the company of the stars. They had served as her canopy for so many nights, brought with them vivid memories of a man she didn't understand. She thought she could ask Houston questions through eternity, but his carefully guarded answers would forever keep her from understanding him fully.

She was certain that she meant more to him than he let on, thought it possible that he may have fallen in love with her, knew she'd come to love him. She wondered why he didn't act on his feelings. She wasn't married to his brother. Surely Dallas would understand if she had a change of heart. She didn't fear Dallas, but she sensed that Houston was wary of him, as though he thought his brother might strike out at him if he spoke the wrong words or took the wrong action. She wondered how much Dallas resembled his father. Houston had not been fond of his father. She wondered if he saw his father when he looked at Dallas.

In the predawn darkness, she sighed and listened to the steady clack of the windmill Dallas had built. Soon the sun would touch the earth, throwing its glow over Dallas's land. She hoped the sight would bring joy to her heart, would replace this mourning of a loss she couldn't identify or explain.

She heard a thump in the hallway. Her first thought was that Houston had sneaked in to see her, but she didn't think that would be his way. He'd said once that he always took the easy way. As much as it pained her, she had to acknowledge that for him, leaving her was easier than claiming her.

She heard the bump again. She rose from her chair and tiptoed across the room to the hearth, where the embers from the dying fire glowed red. She picked up the smallest log in the stack beside the hearth and crept to the door.

She opened the door slightly and peered out. She saw a shadow moving out of one of the far rooms. She couldn't remember if that room was another bedroom. The person was carrying something. She stepped into the hallway and held the log like a club, hoping she had the strength to carry out her threat if the thief tried to bolt. "Stop right there!"

The culprit turned, stumbled back, hit the door, and fell into the room from which he'd just come. Amelia rushed down the hallway, her heart thudding madly. She skidded to a stop and stood over the prone figure, trying to decide if she should hit him now or cry for help.

"Miss Carson! It's me! Austin."

She scrutinized the darkness, barely able to discern his features. She could hear his heavy breathing. She had no doubt frightened him as much as he'd frightened her. She lowered her raised arms. They quivered as they relaxed against her side. "What are you doing here?"

He scrambled to his feet. "Come to get my violin. Dallas didn't give me no time to get my belongings. You scared me to death."

She laughed with a crazy sort of relief. "You scared me, too."

"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to." He tilted his head. "Miss Carson, you want to come watch the sunrise with me?"

"Will Dallas be there?"

"No, ma'am. He done headed out with some of the men to check the south range. I'm supposed to watch out for you today."

"Let me get dressed."

She hurried into her room. She considered putting on her own clothes. She had washed them last night, but she had enjoyed the freedom she'd felt wearing the loose skirt and blouse. She slipped into the clothes, wrapped the makeshift shawl around her shoulders, and walked back into the hallway. Austin was plucking a string on his violin.

He shoved himself away from the wall. "Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading her down the stairs and through the house to the back porch.

He released her hand and dropped to the top step. She settled in beside him, leaning against the beam. "Dallas said that where the sun comes up is where his land begins."

"Yes, ma'am. He has a hell—excuse me, heck—of a lot of land." He leaned toward her. "Can I say heck?"

She smiled. He had lived in a world dominated by men. She didn't expect him to change his habits overnight, wasn't even certain if he should. "You can say whatever you want. I don't mind."

"Oh, no, ma'am. I'm used to seeing Dallas angry, but I ain't never seen Houston angry. I don't want to say nothing that's gonna make Houston angry, so I gotta practice talking to a lady like she's supposed to be talked to. And I sure as hell, excuse me, heck, ain't gonna mention that you slept together. I thought he was gonna tear me in two."

Amelia scooted toward him slightly, clasped her hands together tightly, and rested her elbows on her thighs. "Dallas and Houston don't seem to talk to each other much."

"No, ma'am. They surely don't. They never have as long as I can remember."

"But they talk to you?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's kinda funny. When it's just me and Dallas, he talks to me like I imagine a father would talk to a son, explaining things real patient-like. When it's just me and Houston, he talks to me like I figure brothers would talk to each other, but I never see him and Dallas talking that way. When it's the three of us, it's just best to keep quiet."

"Did you know that Houston was breeding the mustangs?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am. He told me. When he needs help, he lets me help him."

"Dallas never helps him?"

"Oh, no, ma'am. Dallas ain't never even been out to Houston's place. When he needs Houston, he just sends me out there to fetch him."

"Why?"

"I reckon 'cuz he needs to talk to him."

Amelia smiled at the boy's innocence, an innocence that was belied by the revolver he wore strapped to his thigh. She wasn't certain if she'd ever grow accustomed to the abundance of guns and the ease with which young men carried them. "No, I mean why doesn't Dallas go out there?"

Austin shrugged. "Busy, I guess. Least that's what Houston says. Sometimes I think it bothers him that Dallas ain't never been out there. I asked him about it once. He said Dallas has empires to build. He's got no time for the little things, but visiting family don't seem like a little thing to me. But I'm just a kid, so what do I know?"

She placed her hand on his arm. "I think you're very close to being a man, and I think you know a lot. Could you take me to Houston's place?"

"Sure could. It's just two whoops and a holler away. As soon as the sun finishes coming up, we'll head out. If you won't tell Dallas, I'll show you what the sun sounds like when it's coming up."

"Why would he mind?" she asked, taking her hand off his arm.

He lifted a shoulder. "Cookie is a fiddle player, and he taught me to play some songs. Dallas don't mind those. But I hear songs … Dallas says they ain't manly so I just play 'em when he's not around. Since he ain't here, you want to hear the one that I think sounds like a sunrise?"

Amelia wrapped her arms around herself and settled against the beam. "I'd like to hear it very much."

Austin shifted his backside on the porch, brought one leg up and stretched the other one out. He slipped the rounded end of the violin beneath his chin and picked up the bow. He pointed the bow toward the far horizon. "Watch the sunrise."

Amelia turned her attention to the distance, but as soon as she heard the first low strain of music, her attention drifted back to the boy sitting on the porch with her. He'd closed his eyes and swayed slightly in rhythm to the music he created. The music rose softly in pitch just as the sun did. She could see the sunrise without watching it, could feel its warmth without touching it, could sense its power as it brought light to the land.

How could Dallas not encourage the boy to expand on his gift? If he played this beautifully after taking lessons from a cook, she couldn't imagine how well he would play if he had proper lessons. Dallas Leigh needed more than a wife. He needed someone who could teach him that life was composed of more than hard work.

The music drifted into a hushed whisper. Austin opened his eyes, tears shimmering within the incredible blue depths.

"That was beautiful," Amelia said softly.

Austin sniffed and blinked until the tears disappeared. "Dawn is my favorite time of day, but I got a song for the sunset, and for all the seasons. They just sorta come to me. Like yesterday, when I saw you for the first time, a song just went into my head, but I ain't had a chance to try it out yet."

"I'd like to hear it when you're ready to play it for me."

He smiled broadly. "I'll do that, as long as Dallas is off with the men." He stood and tucked the violin beneath his arm. "You ready to head out to Houston's place?"

She tried not to appear too eager as she stood, but the truth was: She couldn't wait to see Houston again.

He was standing on the front porch of a small log cabin, his left shoulder pressed against the beam, his gaze focused on the horses milling around in the corral. He wore no hat, and the wind blew through his black hair much as it blew through Amelia's blond tresses. She'd worn her hair pulled back, a strip of cloth keeping most of it in place, but much of it had worked itself free.

"Maybe we should yell so he'll know we're coming in," Amelia suggested, anxious to have him turn and see her, wondering if he would be as pleased to see her as she was to see him.

"Won't do no good. He can't hear from that side," Austin said.

Stunned, Amelia stared at Austin. "He's deaf?"

"Only on the left side. When he was wounded during the war, he lost his sight and hearing on that one side. Always figured that was why he sat with his right side to us, since his hearing ain't so good."

Austin's reasoning made sense, but Amelia didn't think it was correct. Near the end of their journey, Houston had never turned his face away from her. But she had whispered her heartfelt endearment near his left ear. She realized now that he hadn't been ignoring her. He simply hadn't heard her words, although she now understood that his hearing them would not have altered the journey's end.

As they neared, Houston turned slightly and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. The morning was cool, but he wore no duster or hat. She was certain he'd expected no company.

"What brings you out?" he asked as he stepped off the porch.

"Dallas took the men to the south. He told me to watch Amelia. She wanted to see your place," Austin said as he dismounted.

"Oh, she did, did she?" Houston asked, his lip curved up slightly on one side as he placed his hands on her waist and helped her dismount.

The warmth of his touch shot clear down to her toes. His hands lingered, his fingers flexing as though he knew he should let her go, but couldn't bring himself to do it. She wanted to step forward, lean against him, and feel his arms close around her.

As though reading her thoughts, he shook his head slightly and stepped away from her. "Not much to see. House, corral, shed. Nothing fancy."

"A woman doesn't always need fancy," Amelia said softly.

"But she should have it just the same."

"You gonna let Amelia watch when a stallion mounts a mare?" Austin asked.

Houston turned swiftly to grab Austin. Austin ducked just as quickly, backing off, his fingers splayed before him. "What'd I do now?"

"You don't talk breeding around a lady," Houston said, his voice low.

"Makes no sense. You can't say nothin' around a lady. What's the point in sharing your life with her if you can't speak what's on your mind?"

"I'm not gonna marry her and neither are you. And you need to call her Miss Carson."

"Why? Dallas told me last night that she'll be my sister by marriage. I wouldn't call my sister Miss Leigh."

Houston reached to pull down a hat that wasn't on his head. Then he spun around and faced Amelia. "What do you want him to call you?"

"I'm hoping Austin will come to think of me as a sister so I'd truly prefer for him to call me Amelia."

"Fine." He waved his hand in the air. "Fine. Call her Amelia."

Austin released a whoop. "Hot diggity damn! That's the first time I've won an argument!"

Houston pointed his finger at his brother. "No swearing!"

Wearing a broad smile, Austin raised his palms as though warding off an attack. "I just forgot. Won't do it again."

"See that you don't," Houston mumbled.

"Can I ride Black Thunder to the bluff and back?" Austin asked.

"Black Thunder?" Amelia asked.

"Yeah, he's over here," Austin said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward a distant corral, leading their horses behind him. "He ain't gelded, so Houston has to keep him apart from the mares."

The black stallion threw his head back and trotted around the enclosure. In a separate enclosure nearby, the palomino stallion whinnied.

"He's beautiful," Amelia whispered. The horse's black coat shimmered in the morning sun.

"I named him," Austin said.

"Why Black Thunder?" she asked.

"Because he runs so fast and so hard that he sounds like thunder rolling over the plains." He glanced over his shoulder. "Ain't that right, Houston?"

Reluctantly, Houston had followed them over, cursing himself for wanting to see Amelia's face when she caught sight of the stallion. He'd never given much thought to raising horses until he'd seen this black stallion on a rise. He'd pursued him for two years, wondered at times if he was a phantom, a horse of legend … until he'd captured him with Austin's help. He hadn't had a mare worthy of the black stallion until now.

Until Amelia had convinced him to pursue the palomino's herd. He'd carefully made his selections, choosing the mares that would service his black stallion.

"Yep, he's fast, but he's not saddle broke," Houston said.

"I love ridin' him bareback," Austin said, rubbing a hand up and down his thigh. "I can feel his power, his strength … Please? Amelia can wait here. I won't be long. Just a short fast ride."

Houston felt as though he was trapped between a stampeding herd and a huge abyss. What he wanted and what he knew was right were warring. Amelia looked at him, her green, green eyes filled with hope, and he couldn't say no, couldn't send her on her way, even though he knew it was best.

"Just don't be gone too long," Houston said, gruffly, offering himself a compromise.

"I won't," Austin assured him. He handed the reins of his horse and Amelia's horse over to Houston, grabbed the hackamore bridle off a post, and slipped through the railings.

The horse snorted and pranced. Amelia sidled up against Houston. "He's black. Isn't he dangerous?"

"All horses are dangerous if you don't handle them right, but he's not mean spirited."

She smiled as Austin slipped the bridle over the horse's snout, wrapped his fingers in the long black mane, and threw himself over the horse. The horse bucked once, and Austin hollered, his smile brighter than the noonday sun.

Houston pulled back the gate, and the horse with rider sprang forth, churning up the dirt as they headed out. Houston slapped Austin and Amelia's mounts, urging them into the empty corral. He closed the gate.

"I was thinking about working with the mare today. Need to get over to the other corral so she can start getting used to my scent again."

"Can I come with you?"

Houston nodded. He walked to the corral, Amelia at his side. Sweet Lord, it felt right to have her there with him, to smell her scent, to see her shadow touching his. He crossed his arms over the top railing, and the horses scattered to the far side of the corral.

"They don't trust us yet," she said quietly.

He thought now might be a good time to make sure the woman understood there was no "us," would never be an "us." But the morning was peaceful, the breeze slight, and she looked so pretty standing beside him watching the horses that she'd helped him capture.

He should have explained to Austin why a man would want a woman in his life. It had little to do with the physical release his body craved. It had everything to do with every memory he had of her from the moment she'd first stepped off the train in Fort Worth until he'd watched Dallas kiss her last night. It had to do with the softness of her voice, the way she believed in him when no one else ever had.

"They'll get used to us again in time," he said.

She turned her attention away from the horses, her delicate brows drawn together in a furrow. "Why didn't you tell Dallas that you were breeding mustangs?"

He averted his gaze, deciding it was easier to watch the horses than her. "I might not have any success at it. Dallas has seen enough of my failures."

"Such as?"

"You don't want to know." "I don't want to know or you don't want to tell me?" He forced himself to meet her gaze. "I don't want to tell you."

"You don't trust me," she said simply. "You're like the mustangs. You don't trust easily."

"Look what happened when they finally decided to trust us. We betrayed them."

"And you think I'll betray you?"

"No," he said, unable to stop the ragged edge in his voice. "I think you'll hate me."