A Texan's Honor (22 page)

She felt his arms go around her, hold her close, and she felt a little less desperate, a little less fearful that he would back away. She couldn't explain why she'd trusted this man almost from the first, but there was something about him that was strong and unbending, something inside him that was evident in everything he did, said, was. He seemed to have a lot of questions about his life, maybe even about himself, but as time passed, she had fewer and fewer doubts. The message grew stronger every day, every hour. This was a man a woman could depend on.

“Are you feeling a little shaken?” Bret asked.

She nodded her head against his chest.

“You don't have to worry that you'll be left alone.”

“You'll go back to Boston as soon as you find the
rustlers. There's no reason for you to come back until it's time for me to go to Galveston.”

“We don't have to worry about that yet. We can take things one day at a time.”

She'd been doing that for a long time now. That was how she'd found herself pushed into a corner. She hadn't worried about her future until her father got sick and she found out that someone on the ranch was helping the rustlers. Yet she held on to Bret, didn't want to let go.

“Are you scared?”

“A little.”

She'd never admitted that before, maybe never felt it except when her mother died. Though she missed her mother terribly, her death had affected her father more profoundly than it had her. Bertie and Ida had tried to console him, but her father turned to her when he missed his wife the most.

He used to tell Emily all the time how strong she was, and she was proud of her strength. Later she'd had to be strong to take over the household, to train the horses, to help run the ranch. She'd never known what it was to depend on anyone. Now she was older, wiser, and more knowledgeable. Yet tonight she felt more lost than ever.

“You don't have to be frightened,” Bret said. “There are a lot of people who love you, who'll be happy to help you whenever you need them.”

She knew that. Bertie would defend her with her pots and pans if necessary, but Bertie thought Emily ought to marry some nice man and let him take care of everything for her. Lonnie would have been more than happy to do that, but she didn't love Lonnie. She couldn't imagine being married to him, having him touch her, make love to her. Besides, she suspected
Lonnie loved the ranch more than he loved her.

She knew Ida and Charlie would do anything they could for her, but they had their own ranch, their own family. It wouldn't be fair to expect them to jeopardize their future to help her. So where did that leave her?

Standing with her arms around Bret, she held on to him as if he were her rock in the middle of a stormy sea. She laughed at the silly image. She'd never even seen the ocean. She didn't know if it had rocks or not.

“It can't be so terrible if you can laugh,” Bret said.

“I'm laughing at a stupid thought.”

“Want to tell me what it was?”

“It's too embarrassing. You'll laugh.”

“Friends laugh
with
friends, not at them.”

She lifted her head until she could look up at his face. “You have no reason to be my friend.”

“I have no reason not to be.”

“You have plenty of reason. I'm forcing you to spend four months a year in Texas. That will cause trouble with your uncle and problems with your work. Now you have to try to persuade Isabelle to spend her winters in Galveston while you help me find a suitable husband. What more reason do you need to wish you'd never heard my name?”

“Things haven't turned out the way I'd hoped, but it's not a bad compromise.”

Emily wondered if he included her clinging to him as part of what he hadn't planned . . . or wanted. “You don't want to be in Texas.”

“I used to.”

“Then why don't you stay here? You don't like Boston or your uncle. You were happier when you lived with Jake and Isabelle.”

She could feel him tense up, his arms go slack
around her. She'd angered him, and he wanted to back off. But he didn't. A moment later his arms gradually tightened around her again. “Are you upset about something?”

He didn't answer right away. She wondered if she should pull away. Bertie would say it was stupid to stand around hugging a man for no reason at all. But she wasn't hugging as much as holding on, and she had more than enough reason. She wondered what he felt about it. He wouldn't say unless she asked. She wasn't sure she should. She'd already upset him.

“Lots of things haven't worked out like I expected,” Bret said. “I'm having to rethink some of my goals, and I don't like some of the things I've learned.”

“Now you know how I feel with Dad dying, somebody I trusted helping the rustlers, and being forced to go to Galveston to pick out a husband.”

Bret pulled back until he could look into her eyes. “Getting married and settling down will be the best thing for you.”

“Staying in Texas would have been the best thing for
you
, but you didn't do it. Why should you expect me to be any different?”

His arms fell away, and a moment later he stepped back and turned to stare out over the prairie.

“I shouldn't have said anything,” she said. “What you do with your life is none of my business.”

Bret spoke without turning to face her. “I still have the letter my uncle wrote saying he didn't want the Texas authorities to send me to Boston, that there must be a family here who'd like a kid.”

Emily knew that not being wanted by his family had to hurt, but seeing the written words must have been like a knife in his heart. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to want desperately to be accepted
and respected by people who, by every law of man and precept of Christianity, ought to love you but didn't. He must have felt the whole world was against him. Yet here she was selfishly depending on him for support in her troubles which, by comparison, weren't very troubling at all.

“I had no right to judge you,” Emily said. “I can't know what you—”

“I had to go to Boston.”

He still didn't face her. She wondered if he wasn't talking to himself more than to her.

“I had to confront them. I had to know why they turned their backs on my mother.” He turned. “Do you know what my uncle said?”

Emily shook her head.

“He said she married out of her class. That was it.”

“My father's family wouldn't have anything to do with him because he didn't behave the way they thought he should,” she said.

“I couldn't understand why they didn't want me.” Bret spoke as though he hadn't heard her. “I was a child. I hadn't done anything. My uncle hoped I was so far away I'd never find my way back.”

“Then why did you stay?”

“Because I have to prove to him he was wrong.” A wry smile briefly crossed his face. “They didn't know that Isabelle grew up rich. She made sure I knew how to behave in social occasions, how to handle myself at the table, and how to dress, but I was determined to be even better than the Abbotts. Within two years, I could dance better than Joseph, carry on a more interesting conversation, and flatter the ladies without being obvious. I couldn't afford to dress as well, but I compensated by staying in better shape physically.”

Emily had wondered about that. No city man she'd ever met was strong enough to lift her into a saddle.
His broad shoulders, flat stomach, narrow hips, and muscular buttocks looked good no matter what he was wearing.

“At the office I worked harder and longer than anyone else. I made it my business to learn everything I could about the company so I could make a bigger contribution than the others. I didn't ask for more money or my own office. I just wanted to feel I was a part of the company, that I was contributing to the success of the family as much as anyone.”

She found it hard to understand why he'd put himself through so much misery.

“I was a fool,” Bret said, the words sharp and bitter. “I thought I was finally close to achieving my goal when Uncle Silas said he would talk to me and Rupert as soon as he'd had a chance to study my recommendations. It was only when he told me not to come back without you that I realized I was no closer to being accepted than the day I arrived at Abbott and Abercrombie and saw Uncle Silas's horrified expression when he realized who I was.”

Emily reached out, took Bret's hand. “He was the fool.”

Bret gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You have no reason to like me any better than he does. I'm making you do things you hate.”

“My father is doing that. You're just the man who's stuck making sure I live up to my promises.”

She was glad Bret didn't release her hand. She liked being connected with him. It made her feel he was standing with her, that she didn't have to face her future alone. It was odd, when she thought about it. She was surrounded by people, but Bret was the only one who gave her that feeling of support she needed.

“I don't mind,” Bret said. “It's a relief to know I'm
not the only one caught between a rock and a hard place.”

“But men have more freedom to do something about it. All they ever say to a woman is ‘Get married and let your husband worry about it.' ”

“It's not bad advice.”

“The only reason you say that is because no one ever told you to get married to solve all your problems.”

“Actually, someone did. My uncle said there were plenty of wealthy women in Boston who'd be happy to have a husband like me.”

Emily didn't try to hide her amazement. “I think you ought to forget about your uncle and never go back to Boston.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You could stay here and work for my father.” That was a stupid thing to say. Bret would never take a job as a common cowhand.

“I'm already working for your father, but I don't recall anyone offering to pay me.”

His remark surprised her, but she realized immediately it was only fair that they pay him for stopping the rustling. It was embarrassing that neither she nor her father had thought of it.

“I'm sure my father has already considered that,” she said, hoping it was true.

Bret pulled her back toward him and turned her around so she had to face him. “I was only joking. My uncle is paying me to be here.”

“Still, we ought to—”

“If you're going to take a joke that seriously, I'll have to be careful what I say in the future.”

“I've never known you to make a joke.”

He frowned. “Not many people have.”

“I thought you said you have learned to make interesting conversation.”

“That's an act I put on when I go to parties. I'm a lot less fun when I'm around people I care about.”

It took Emily a moment to digest that. She hoped she knew what he meant, but she was afraid to take too much for granted. “You care about me?”

“Does that surprise you?”

“A little,” she admitted, but it thrilled her, too. “I haven't always been very nice to you.”

“You've been nice enough.”

She'd started by thinking he was a hopeless greenhorn. Then Joseph's letter had made her think he might be after her money for his own reasons. Then she had practically called him a liar when he said he believed someone on the ranch was helping the rustlers.

“
Nice enough
won't do,” she said.

“You underestimate the power of a beautiful woman to cause a man to overlook all kinds of obstacles.”

Bret's smile was wonderful, but there was something about it that wasn't quite right. It was like his words. They might be true, but they weren't the ones he wanted to say.

“I wouldn't have expected you to feel that way.”

“Why not? I'm a man like every other man.”

“You're not like every other man,” she said. “I knew that almost from the beginning.” That was what drew her to him. She didn't know exactly how he was different. Even though he'd told her a lot about his life, he hadn't told her a lot about himself. “I don't quite know who you are.”

Bret's expression froze. His whole body was motionless. Only the breeze ruffled his hair.

“How am I different?” he asked.

“You're full of contradictions. As soon as I think I've learned one thing about you, something happens that makes me think the opposite.”

“Experience has taught me many different lessons.”

“Like what?”

“That it's necessary to be flexible.”

If he didn't want to talk about himself, that was all right with her, but she wasn't going to let him think she didn't know he was dodging her question. “I wasn't asking you to tell me about yourself. I was just trying to explain why I feel I don't know who you are. I
do
know you're very inflexible in some ways.”

“No fair knowing my secrets.”

Bret was pretending to be amused, but she could feel him retreat from her. “I don't want to know your secrets. I just want to know that you like me and wouldn't betray me.”

Despite the shadowy moonlight, she could feel his eyes bore into her. Even if she hadn't been holding his hand, she couldn't have been unaware of the heat traversing the space between them. Some place deep inside him had been exposed and an incredible energy had poured out and encompassed her. She felt both scorched and comforted.

“You can.”

Emily started to speak, then motioned Bret to look in the direction of her pointing finger. About thirty yards ahead, in a place where the ground was almost bare of grass, a family of raccoons was crossing the trail. The mother and father came first, followed by three babies. The biggest raccoon—she assumed it was the father—stopped in the middle of the trail and looked at them, the mask around his eyes making him look like a fugitive fleeing in the middle of the night. The mother and babies hurried on across the road, their odd, bouncing stride making them look a little uncoordinated. After his family crossed, the father disappeared into the tall grass on the other side of the trail.