A Texan's Honor (18 page)

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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

BOOK: A Texan's Honor
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“What about Lonnie?”

“He loves Miss Emily. He's hoping she'll marry him and he can run the ranch.”

Apparently, Lonnie's aspirations were an open secret. Bret wondered if Emily knew.

“Will he stay if she doesn't marry him?” Bret asked.

“As long as she doesn't marry anybody else, he'll keep hoping she'll marry him.”

“I thought Emily had made it clear she didn't intend to marry.”

“When a woman gets scared or lonely, she's apt to change her mind.”

And a woman left by herself in virtually empty country to deal with rustlers and cutthroat competition would probably change her mind fairly quickly given the right provocation. And who would be in a better position than her foreman to provide the provocation as well as benefit by it?

“Miss Emily ought to get married or go to Boston,” Jem said. “It's not right for a woman like her to be by herself.”

Bret doubted that Emily would be swayed by Jem's opinion, but she would be up against a group of wily wolves who probably wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of her. If she lost her crew, she'd be helpless to do anything about it. He would have to talk to Sam tonight.

“I can't believe you'd accuse Lonnie of rustling.” Emily was so angry, she couldn't sit still. She had paced around her father's bedroom, firing off rounds of rebuttal for everything Bret said. “He'd never betray us.”

“I didn't say he
was
behind the rustling,” Bret said. “I only said he's the person in the best position to give the rustlers the information they need. I still don't understand why they don't just steal what they want rather than wait three or four years to claim those cows.”

“They know I'll be dead by then,” Sam pointed out, “and they think they can do anything they want and Emily won't be able to stop them.”

“That doesn't sound like Lonnie,” Emily said, an angry smile of satisfaction on her face.

“Whoever it is has access to inside information,” Bret said.

“None of the boys would do this,” Emily insisted. “They've all worked for us for years. They're fanatically loyal.”

“There's always the lure of money.” Sam propped himself up on his pillows. “We don't pay cowhands very much.”

“I can't believe you're siding with Bret.” Emily
turned angrily to her father. “You know the men even better than I do.”

“Which is why I know Bret must be right. What other explanation could there be?”

“I don't know, but Bret and Jem must have missed something,” Emily insisted. “I won't believe it's one of our men until I see the evidence for myself.” She turned to Bret. “
All
the evidence.”

“Show her everything you found,” Sam said. “She'll fret me to death if you don't.”

“I want Jem to go with me.”

“Go with Bret,” her father said. “He found the evidence. He's also the only one who doesn't have anything to hide.”

Bret and Emily had ridden over half the ranch, but she'd barely spoken to him all day. They had more ground to cover tomorrow, but it was already clear the rustlers knew which parts of the ranch to avoid.

“The coffee's ready.”

Emily had wandered a little distance from the campsite while Bret prepared their supper of beef stew with dried vegetables and coffee. She'd kept her back to him for the last several minutes, but when she approached the fire, her face seemed more open. She seemed less withdrawn.

“I guess I've been pretty stubborn,” she said as she accepted the cup of steaming coffee. “Not even I can argue with the evidence of my own eyes.”

“It's not easy to accept that a person we trust has betrayed us,” Bret said. “It makes us feel stupid to have been so gullible, and it also hurts. It hurts even more because it makes it harder to believe that anyone can actually like us for ourselves instead of what we can do for them.”

“Is that some more of what you learned from Isabelle?”

Bret poured his own coffee and settled on the ground to watch his stew. “I've spent a lot of time alone. I had more than enough time to think.”

“How could you be alone in such a big family?”

Emily had always felt enveloped by her small family. She couldn't understand how it was possible to feel alone in a family of fourteen.

“I was a very angry boy when Isabelle and Jake adopted me. I was furious at the way life had treated me. Knowing I had a rich family in Boston, I looked down on anyone from Texas. At the same time, I was jealous and embarrassed that the other boys could do so many things I couldn't. Since I didn't
want
to feel I belonged to their family, I was more than willing to be the one who went out alone.”

“Is that when you learned to cook over an open fire?”

“I had to eat. Being self-sufficient bolstered my feeling of superiority. Of course I was wrong, but it took me a while to figure that out. By the time I did, I was so embarrassed at my past behavior, I still took every chance to go out alone. I never felt like an equal member of the family until right before I left for Boston.”

While he talked, Emily had come over to the fire, settling on the ground next to him. The glow from the embers lent a burnished orange cast to her face. Her light brown hair looked nearly black, her brows and lashes inky. She stared deep into the fire, as if she were thinking of something entirely removed from what he was saying. All during the day he'd watched her confidence wane and then disappear. He was certain that her decision to run the ranch alone after her father died had been founded on her absolute trust in
the loyalty of the cowhands. It had to shake her to the core to find her trust had been violated.

“Is that why you went to Boston?” she asked.

“You can't imagine what it's like to have absolutely nothing, and know you have a family that's so rich they wouldn't miss the few dollars it would take to pay for your pitiful meals or flea-infested lodgings. I had to prove to them they were wrong about me.”

Bret stopped himself. He didn't want to talk about this. He didn't even want to think about it. “We've got a full day of riding tomorrow. We'd better eat and get some sleep.” He got to his feet, reached for a bowl, and ladled stew into it, then handed it to Emily.

“It smells good,” Emily said, but she didn't taste it. “Will we see anything different tomorrow?”

“No.”

She didn't speak again until she'd finished her stew. By that time, Bret had finished his meal, and washed the pot in a nearby creek. He banked the fire but left the coffee on to keep it warm.

“You realize the rustling means you can't stay here after your father's death unless you get married.”

She didn't reply.

“Your husband will have to be able to command the respect of his crew, to work alongside them if necessary. Men won't respect a boss who can't defend his own property.”

“I don't want to get married.”

“Then you'd better sell up and move to Boston. You'll have enough money to live on your own.”

“I don't want to go to Boston, but I can't find a husband like that out here.”

“Move to Fort Worth or Dallas. You could even go to San Antonio.” Bret laughed. “I've got a few unmarried brothers. Luke would be more than a match for
any batch of rustlers, and he's one of the best-looking men I've ever seen.”

“I wouldn't know what to do.” Emily sounded as if the spirit had gone out of her. She turned away from Bret. A moment later she added, “I've never been courted. Never even been kissed.”

Chapter Eleven

Bret didn't know why Emily would tell him something as personal as that, but his reaction was immediate and strong. His mouth felt dry, his tongue too big. He took a swallow of coffee, but it tasted bitter.

He wanted very badly to kiss Emily. Of course, that was the worst possible thing he could do. Even if she liked him—and she'd given him no reason to think she did—she wasn't happy with him right now.

Then there was the two-edged sword of kissing her when he was trying to convince her to go to Boston. She might think he really liked her, and make her decision based on the assumption of some future relationship. When that didn't happen, she'd be so furious—and humiliated—she'd probably head straight back to Texas . . . but not before giving his Uncle Silas a full account of his actions. That would effectively end his career in Abbott & Abercrombie as well as obliterate any chance of being accepted into the family.

On the other hand, she might believe he was trying
to seduce her purely for the purpose of convincing her to go to Boston. She'd be so angry, she would tell her father, who'd probably have his cowhands chase him all the way to Fort Worth with thundering shotguns.

Then there was the matter of Emily herself. Despite having had a lot of freedom and responsibility since her mother's death, she was inexperienced with men. He had no idea how she would react to being kissed. A first kiss was a momentous event. It assumed enormous importance because it ushered a woman into a whole new relationship with a man. It might be such an emotional experience, she'd start to believe she had feelings that only time and experience would show her were an illusion. He couldn't do that to Emily.

“What's Luke like?”

Bret had been so lost in his thoughts, her question made no sense. “What are you talking about?”

“You said I needed a husband who can handle the ranch and take on rustlers. You said Luke was more than a match for them, so I want to know what he's like. If I'm going to have to find a husband, I need to know what to look for.”

Bret had the feeling his tongue and brain weren't connected. He could think of no other reason why he had said something like that. “I shouldn't have mentioned Luke. He's a gunman. You'd be more suited to Chet, but he got married last year.”

“Do you have any brothers who aren't married?”

This was a ridiculous conversation, but at least it forced him to think of something other than kissing Emily. “Yes.”

“What are they like?”

There was no harm in answering her. She'd never see anyone except maybe Zeke and Hawk—if they got his telegram, if they were free to come. “Pete's a
nice enough guy, but he'll never settle down. Matt and Will Haskins are the two best-looking men you'll ever see, but Matt is a confirmed loner and Will is totally irresponsible. Zeke was a slave and Hawk is half Comanche. I haven't seen them in years, but I don't think they're the marrying kind either.”

“Is there anybody else?”

“Only me.”

“I'm sure a man like you wouldn't be interested in a woman who's never been kissed.”

Bret threw away his coffee, which had gone cold. He turned and stared at her for a moment before he spoke. “Something would be wrong with any man who wasn't attracted to you, but you wouldn't want a man like me.”

“Why not? You seem to know all about ranching. Even Charlie was impressed with you. Are you afraid of using a gun?”

Bret stared into the fire. Where to begin? What to tell her? Answering that question would be like trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces missing. Until he'd crossed into Texas a few days ago, he'd thought he had his life all figured out. Now he wasn't sure, and discovering that he was strongly attracted to Emily was only part of the problem. “There's a lot more to being the kind of man you should marry than knowing how to use a gun.”

“I'm not talking about marrying me, just being interested in me. No man has ever tried to kiss me.”

“I'm sure Lonnie would like to.” Though Bret was certain he was correct, he had no right to start guessing what might be in the man's head or heart. He certainly had no right to mention it to Emily.

“Lonnie wants to marry me. That's not the same thing.”

Bret was surprised that Emily could make the distinction.
She understood a great deal more about men than most of the women he knew. “Why would you say that?”

“Being a husband is a job. There are lots of things about it you don't necessarily like but you do them anyway.”

“I'm sure some men don't kiss their wives just because they consider it part of their job.”

“But wouldn't it be different? I mean, wouldn't a kiss that a man considered his duty be different from a kiss a man gave because he liked the woman?”

Bret's laugh was shallow, forced. “I don't know. I'm not a woman.”

She got a little angry. “You're just trying to avoid answering the question. You've kissed a lot of women. They couldn't have all been the same.”

Bret felt heat begin to rise from his neck to his face. He couldn't explain it, but her words seemed like an accusation rather than an acknowledgment of experience. He hadn't kissed all that many women, he hadn't taken advantage of any of them, and he'd been very careful to give Emily no reason to think he wanted to kiss her. “What makes you think I've kissed a lot of women?”

“You have a job, your family is wealthy, and you live in a city where there must be lots of women who'd be attracted to a handsome man. Bertie said she bet you had to beat them off with a stick.”

Bret didn't find Bertie's comment amusing. He hadn't been respectful of men or women when Isabelle and Jake adopted him, but Isabelle had taught all the orphans to respect women. She gave them a lot of freedom in many ways, but on that she was unyielding. “Boston women may be willing to flirt with a man they find attractive, but they know that a man
rarely marries a woman with a reputation for being too free with her affection.”

“But you have kissed a woman, haven't you?”

“Yes.”

“More than one?”

“Yes.” His answer was reluctantly given.

She sighed. “How does a woman learn the difference between a casual kiss and a real kiss if she can't kiss anybody without being considered fast?”

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