Lorraine Heath (25 page)

“Oh, God.” He flopped onto his back, dropped one arm over his eyes, and burst out laughing. His shoulders shook forcefully, and the bed trembled with his outburst.

“What’s so funny?”

Fighting to stop his laughter, he peered at Dee’s concerned face. She had risen on an elbow, her black hair a silken curtain draped over her shoulders. Wearing a broad smile, he reached out, wove his fingers through her hair, and brought her sweet lips closer to his. “You’re precious, you know that? So damn precious.”

He brushed a light kiss over her tantalizing mouth. “I wasn’t in pain.”

Her dark brown eyes widened until they were larger than any full moon that had ever guided his journey through the night. “Not at all?”

“No, quite the opposite in fact.”

He eased her onto her back, tucking her body beneath his, unable to wipe the grin off his face. “So Nature gave you no trade-offs.”

“That hardly seems fair.” She smiled warmly, her blush creeping beneath the sheets she’d drawn up to cover her breasts. “But I’m glad.”

His grin slipped away as he swallowed. “Does that mean you wouldn’t mind trying again? Just in case we didn’t get lucky?”

Burying her face against his throat, she nodded and pressed a kiss just below his Adam’s apple.

Joy shot through him. He leaned back, cupped her cheek, and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply as he worked the sheet aside so he could feel the length of her limbs pressed against his.

Several long minutes later, he dared to peer down at her feet. Distracted, he slid his mouth across her chin.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Grimacing, he considered returning his mouth to hers and kissing her until she forgot the question and his strange behavior, but he had to know the truth. Dammit, he had to know. “Amelia told me that her toes curl when Houston kisses her. I was just trying to see if your toes curl when I kiss you.”

She turned a lovely shade of rose and rolled her shoulders toward her chin. “My whole body curls when you kiss me.”

“Your whole body?”

She nodded quickly. “Every inch.”

“Well, hell,” he said as he settled his mouth greedily over hers with plans to keep her body tightly curled for the remainder of the night.

“Susan Redd,” Dee said.

Dallas glanced up from his ledgers. Dee was sitting in his office, curled in her chair, a stack of letters on the table beside her. “Susan read what?” he asked.

She threw her head back and laughed. Lord, he loved her laugh, the ivory column of her throat, the glimmer of joy in her eyes.

“Susan Redd, R-E-D-D. That’s the name of the woman I’m thinking of hiring to manage the hotel. She runs a boardinghouse back East which I think gives her wonderful experience. Don’t you agree?”

He planted his elbow on the desk and ran his thumb and forefinger over his mustache. A small thrill always raced through him when she asked his opinion, when she shared a corner of her dreams with him. “What I think … is that we need to go to bed.”

Her eyes widened, not with fear but with wonder and anticipation. “Dallas, it’s not even dark yet.”

He scraped his chair across the floor, brought himself to his feet, and stalked toward her. “I made love to you this morning, and it wasn’t dark then either.”

“That was different. We hadn’t gotten out of bed yet.”

“A mistake I can remedy.” He took the letter from her fingers, tossed it onto the table, and scooped her into his arms.

Laughing, she nuzzled her nose against his neck as he carried her out of his office. The front door opened and Austin sauntered into the house.

“Where are you going?” Austin asked.

“To bed,” Dallas said as he started up the stairs.

“What about supper?”

“Go see the cook.”

“Go see the cook,” Austin said. “That’s what Dallas said. Then he and Dee start giggling like a couple of coyotes drunk on corn whiskey.”

Houston looked across the table at Amelia and smiled. “So you decided to come help yourself to our meal?”

Austin shrugged. “Better than waiting on those two. They might never come back downstairs.” He winked at Amelia. “Besides, Amelia’s meals taste better than the cook’s.”

Reaching around the pot of beans, Amelia patted his hand. “I appreciate the compliment. It sounds as though things are better between Dallas and Dee.”

“Strange is what they are,” Austin said as he cut into the beefsteak.

“In what way?” Houston asked.

Austin planted his elbow on the table and pointed his fork at Houston. “Dee reads to us every evening. Dallas is supposed to be working in his ledgers. Only he ends up watching her. Then she’ll look up and forget all about reading. They’ll just stare at each other for a few minutes, then Dallas will say it’s time for bed, and they’ll leave, and I’m left to wonder

what’s going on in the story. Dee started reading
Silas Marner
to us over a week ago and she hasn’t finished the first chapter yet.”

“You might have to start reading to yourself,” Amelia suggested.

“It isn’t the same hearing the story in my voice.” Austin continued to cut his steak. “I just need to be patient. I reckon things will get back to normal once Dallas gets his son.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Houston said, meeting his wife’s gaze. He knew from experience that when the woman a man loved brought his child into the world, the bond only deepened and grew stronger.

“Mr. Curtiss?”

Cordelia stuck her head inside the tent where Tyler Curtiss worked. She had awoken at two in the morning with a thought about the hotel that she wanted to share with him, but she couldn’t find him anywhere.

Stepping into the tent, she decided to wait.

Large sheets of paper littered his desk, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking at them. She saw the new plans for the newspaper office and the apothecary. Small businesses. Large businesses. They would find a home in Leighton.

Moving the papers aside, she saw a drawing of a building with a great many rooms. Bold letters across the top proclaimed it to be a hotel.

Sinking into a chair, she studied the drawing. It wasn’t her hotel, and yet the layout seemed incredibly familiar, reminded her of Dallas. Bold. Daring. The rooms were large, designed for comfort not convenience. Not practical for a town where a great many people would simply be passing through. Yet a portion of it appealed to her, particularly if—as she suspected—her

husband had been responsible for the plans.

“Mrs. Leigh. What a pleasure!”

She jumped out of the chair with a start. “Mr. Curtiss, I wanted to speak with you.” Her gaze drifted back to the drawing. “Whose hotel is this?”

“Oh, that.” He gave her a guilty grin. “Uh, well … uh.” He swept his blond hair off his brow.

“Dallas asked you to draw up plans for a hotel, didn’t he?”

“Yes, ma’am. Some months back, as a matter of fact.”

“What are you going to do with the plans now?”

“He told me to ignore them. Said this town only needed one hotel.”

“Thank you, Mr. Curtiss.” She began to walk out of the tent.

“I thought you came to discuss something.”

She smiled. “I just realized that I need to discuss it with my husband first.”

As she rode into the ranch, she saw Dallas standing by the corral. A broad smile spread beneath his mustache as she drew Lemon Drop to a halt and dismounted.

She strode to him, entwined her arms around his neck, and kissed him, deeply, soundly. From the moment he had made her his wife, he had been secretly placing gifts within reach, gifts that came without wrapping or bows, gifts whose worth could only be measured by the heart.

He drew back, his brow furrowed. “What was that for?”

“I saw the plans for your hotel.”

He grimaced. “Oh, that. It was just an idea I was toying with. It never took hold, not like your plans.”

She combed her fingers through the hair that curled at the nape of his neck. “I woke up this morning with a thought. I want one of the rooms to be special, but I wasn’t exactly sure what I wanted. I was going to talk with Mr. Curtiss about it, and then I saw your drawings. Your rooms were so much larger than mine.”

“I wanted to give a man room to stretch out.”

“I want to give a man and woman a place to make love.”

She broke away and began pacing, the idea little more than a seed. “I truly believe that many of the women who come to work at The Grand Hotel will eventually marry. Some will marry men like Slim, and you’ll have to provide your men with a different type of living quarters.”

“Is that so?” Dallas asked, intrigued as always with the way Dee set the wheels of an idea spinning inside her head, like a windmill built in the path of a constant breeze.

Her steps grew quicker as the excitement burned brightly within her eyes. “For the most part, they’ll marry men of modest means, men who are content to let others dream. They’ll get married in the church that you’ll one day build, and then they’ll go to the house where they’ll probably live for the remainder of their life.

“Most won’t be able to take a wedding trip, but I want to give them a place where they can go for one night and feel special. A room as beautiful as their love, as grand as their hopes for the future, where a man can make love to his wife for the first time in a huge bed with flowers surrounding them.” She stopped pacing. “What do you think?”

That I should have taken you someplace special.
He had never stopped to consider exactly what a wedding meant to a woman, what the first night of her marriage should have heralded.

Certainly not her husband kicking in the door as she prepared herself to please him.

He couldn’t undo the mistakes he’d made in the past, but he could ensure he didn’t repeat them in the future.

She stood on the tips of her toes, her hands clasped tightly before her, waiting on his answer. He could do little more than share the truth with her.

“Think you might need more than one special room.”

She grabbed his hand. “Two rooms, then. Will you help me design and furnish them? I want a room where a cowboy would feel comfortable taking off his boots, and a woman could feel beautiful slipping out of her wedding dress.”

“Then you should definitely have a bootjack in the room.”

A faraway look crept into her eyes. “I should have a bootjack in every room.” She shook her head. “I’ve completely ignored the details.”

“I don’t think you’ve ignored anything. I’m the one who has overlooked things.” He brushed the errant strands of her hair back from her face. “I don’t think I ever bothered to tell you that you’re beautiful.”

A lovely blush rose high over her cheeks, her eyes warmed, and her lips parted.

He lifted her into his arms. “Slim, see after my wife’s horse.”

She snuggled against him as he carried her toward the house.

Life was a series of changes, and Cordelia knew that after tonight her life would forever be different. She could no longer put off the inevitable.

Joy and sorrow wove themselves around her heart as she read the final words of the story and closed the book.

“I liked that story,” Austin said. “What are you gonna read next?”

“I’ll find something,” she said quietly as she turned the ring on her finger. She could feel Dallas’s gaze boring into her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him—not yet.

She would gain so much tonight … and lose even more.

Austin unfolded his body and stood. “Reckon I’ll head on to bed.”

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Dallas said.

She listened as Austin’s footsteps echoed through the room and the door closed.

“You haven’t looked at me all evening,” Dallas said.

“I know.” She set the book aside and lifted her gaze to his. “I went to see Dr. Freeman today.”

Deep furrows marring his brow, he came out of his chair. “Are you sick?”

She smiled uneasily. “No.”

He walked around his desk and knelt before her. “Then what’s wrong?”

I’ll be sleeping alone again when I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping with you.

“We finally got lucky. I’m carrying your child.”

He dropped his gaze to her stomach. “Are you sure?”

She splayed her fingers across her waist where their child was growing. She had suspected for two months, but she had wanted to be certain before she told him, before she gave him hope and took away his reason for coming to her bed. “Your son should be here in the spring.”

He intertwined his fingers with hers until their joined hands resembled a butterfly spreading its wings. “My son.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Our son.” He touched his free hand to her cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Just Fine.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Except that I want to cry all the time, but Dr. Freeman said that was normal.”

With his thumb, he captured a tear before it fell from the corner of her eye. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Dee, I don’t hardly know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough.”

“For God’s sake, don’t thank me.” She shoved hard on his shoulders, and he tumbled over, his backside slamming against the stone floor. She rose to her feet and glared at him. “This is why you married me, isn’t it? Why my family gave me to you? I’m just doing what I was brought here to do!”

Ignoring his stricken expression, she hurried from the room before he could see the tears streaming down her face. She wanted to give him a son, a chance to realize his dreams, but she didn’t want his gratitude. She wanted his love.

A son.

He was going to have a son.

Standing at the corral, Dallas grinned like an idiot while the winds of change circled him, bringing the cooler weather that heralded the arrival of autumn. When the warmer winds arrived in the late spring, he’d be holding his son in his arms.

And until then … he’d be sleeping alone.

Dee had made that painfully clear.

The smile eased off his face. She’d been letting him into her bed because she’d felt an obligation. He’d begun to think he slept there because she wanted him there.

He shivered as the wind howled and drove all the warmth from his flesh. He’d been looking forward to winter for the first time in years. He’d imagined waking up with Dee nestled beside him, the warmth they shared beneath the blankets growing.