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Authors: Parting Gifts

BOOK: Lorraine Heath
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“You’re family now, Maddie. Like Aaron, he’ll come to realize that in time. Now, get ready for bed, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She watched her husband descend the stairs before she opened the door to her new bedroom. She’d first seen it that afternoon when they’d brought the children upstairs to receive their gifts. The room spoke eloquently of Charles’s relationship with his first wife.

Solid walnut furniture was an expression of his masculinity, but the frilled curtains adorning the windows and the handmade quilt covering the bed were evidence of her femininity. Nothing in the room overshadowed anything else, but each item had been specifically chosen to complement the other. The walnut washstand where he would shave in the morning, her delicate mirrored dresser where she would prepare herself for bed at night. Glancing around the room, she knew her husband had indeed shared something special with his wife. She felt a measure of relief knowing she was not competing with the woman for a place in Charles’s heart.

She changed into her nightgown and wrapper before sitting in the plush velvet-covered chair in front of the mirrored dresser. As she worked the brush vigorously through her hair, she heard the door to her bedroom open. She closed her eyes, dreading what she might see when she opened them, afraid Charles’s trip downstairs to check on things had included whiskey. She felt his hands come to rest on her shoulders and opened her eyes.

In the reflection of the mirror, he smiled softly. Relief coursed through her, and she smiled back. Reaching around her, he took the brush from her hand and brought it gently down through her honey tresses. Not since her mother had died had anyone brushed her hair. She’d forgotten how nice it felt to be pampered. The brush stilled, and Charles caught her gaze in the mirror.

“I’d like to hold you tonight,” he said quietly.

Nervously, she nodded in agreement to his request. He handed the brush back to her. “I’ll leave the braiding to you.”

She took the brush and parted her hair as he walked away. She wondered how she would manage to braid her hair with her fingers trembling so badly.

Charles looked around the room, trying to decide the best way to prepare himself for bed. This room had no screen behind which he could discreetly change his clothes. And even if it did, he had nothing into which he could change. He’d always slept without a stitch of clothing on and owned no nightshirts. He thought about looking through Jesse’s belongings, but he knew he’d find nothing appropriate there. He eased his shirt out of his pants and slowly undid the buttons.

Standing, Maddie studied the door. “I think I’ll check on the children,” she said, her voice quivering.

“That’s a fine idea.”

She rushed out of the room, clicking the door closed. Charles released a deep breath before quickly stripping down to his underdrawers and burying himself beneath the covers of the bed.

Quietly walking the hallway, Maddie opened the first door and peered into the girls’ room. They were both lying on their sides asleep, their hands still holding kisses beneath their pillows.

She closed the door and walked to Aaron’s room. She didn’t have the courage to open his door, to chance disturbing him and making him dislike her any more than he already did. She walked to the end of the hallway and gazed out the window into the black night.

She thought of all the nights she and her mother had left a lantern burning in the front window so her father and brother could find their way back to them. She and her mother had dreamed of the life they’d have when things worked out for her father, when he had a job that paid off big. She touched her fingertips to the window. Her mother had died never touching her dreams. Now Maddie lived in a house larger than any she’d ever seen, married to a man kinder than any she’d ever known. She made a silent vow that Charles would never regret taking her out of Bev’s.

She returned to her bedroom, opened the door, and peered in timidly. Charles lay in bed, one arm beneath his head.

Slowly, she walked across the room. She dimmed the flame burning in the lamp before removing her wrapper. This room contained no settee, and her husband had kept his promise. He hadn’t passed out this night. She smiled shyly as he lifted the covers inviting her into his bed.

She eased beneath the sheets and lay stiffly on her back, her arms pressed against her sides. She wasn’t certain how a woman went about letting a man hold her.

“Have you ever slept with a man holding you?” Charles asked.

“No,” Maddie whispered to the ceiling.

“Does the thought frighten you?”

“No.”

“Does it make you nervous?”

She shifted her gaze toward him. He was cast in shadows, but she thought she could make out the barest of smiles on his face. “Yes.”

“I want you to roll over to your side.”

Maddie did as instructed. Charles placed his arm around her and gently guided her into his embrace. She rested her head in the crook of his shoulder as his hand idly rubbed her arm. She released a nervous laugh. “I can hear your heart beating.”

“And I can hear yours.”

She stiffened. It was one thing to hear his heart, another to think he could hear hers. Somehow, it made her acutely aware that she was, for the first time in her life, lying in bed with a man. “Can you?”

“No, not really. I just thought if I teased you a bit, you might begin to feel more comfortable. You have nothing to fear in my bed, Maddie.”

Then she relaxed a little and placed her arm over the quilt, her fingers threading through the hairs on his chest. An image of thick black hairs peeking through the opened collar of a chambray shirt came to her mind. She had, of course, seen other men without their shirts. Yet, she’d never had a urge to reach up and touch the curling hairs as she had this afternoon when she’d stepped down from the stagecoach.

“I see similarities between you and Jesse … and yet, you seem so different.”

“Probably because we were raised differently. We were traveling from Tennessee, part of a wagon train, when our parents took the fever and died. We were farmed out to different families. When we hit Texas, the family that took Jesse kept heading west. The family that took me settled in Carthage.”

“How old were you?”

“I was eight. Jesse was twelve.”

“That must have been hard for you.”

Charles stopped rubbing her arm. “It was damn hard. When I was nineteen, I decided to try and find him. Just started walking with no earthly idea where I was bound, where to look for him. Whenever I could, I traveled by stagecoach. One day, the stagecoach stopped here. I stepped out of the coach and tilted my hat to the owner’s daughter. She smiled. The next morning when the stagecoach moved on, I didn’t. Three months later, we got married.”

“She must have been beautiful.”

“She was beautiful to me.”

She remembered his saying he never expected to love again and wondered at the type of woman who could so captivate a man. She felt more than heard him chuckling. “What is it?”

He cleared his throat. “I was just thinking. I asked both my wives to marry me an hour after I met them.”

“Did you really?”

“Yep. Course, it took Alice a little longer to appreciate me and say yes.”

“But eventually she came around,” she stated softly. “Yeah, eventually.”

A comfortable silence eased in around them. “Charles, I really am sorry my presence has caused hard feelings between you and Jesse.”

“Don’t worry about it. Jesse’s temper blazes, then dies quickly. He’s just aggravated because he thinks I do things without thinking them through. He, on the other hand, doesn’t do anything without thinking it to death. It’s damn irritating sometimes.”

“He doesn’t seem to think it to death before he clears his throat.”

He chuckled. “I guess I should have warned you about that.”

Warned her about that? She just wished he’d warned her that he had a brother. A brother with eyes as black as sin. A brother who no longer wore the outer trappings of a Texas Ranger, but still carried the oath within his heart.

4

Leaning against the oak tree, Maddie watched the girls gather eggs from the hens. She wasn’t certain a game had been created that could so captivate a child. The girls fearlessly searched every nook and cranny for the hidden wonders.

Earlier, Maddie had suggested that Charles spend some time alone with Aaron. He’d welcomed the idea. Since school was not in session, he’d decided to take Aaron fishing. She smiled at the memory of them ambling off with poles dangling over their shoulders, father and son, so alike in appearance. She hoped that some additional attention from Charles might lessen Aaron’s animosity, but regardless, she thought the boy needed his father’s guidance. She wasn’t at all certain it was wise of Charles to allow his brother to have so much influence over his son.

“Never before knew a woman worth a thousand dollars.”

Maddie jerked back and banged her head against the rough bark of the tree as Jesse stepped in front of her, effectively blocking off the early morning sun. The shadows falling across his face failed to cover the harshness of his features, or the cold disdain swimming in the murky depths of his eyes. She felt an icy shiver race up her spine. “I’m hardly worth a thousand dollars.”

He braced his arms on either side of her. “Apparently, my brother feels differently. Did Charles happen to mention that six hundred dollars of that money he spent on you was mine?”

She shook her head, dreading any further words he might discharge.

Slowly, he grazed his knuckles along her cheek. “I’d say that sort of means you belong to me as well.”

“I don’t belong to you,” she forced out, her breathing labored. Fear was something with which she’d grown accustomed to living, but the fear she faced in the past was trivial compared to that she faced now. “I married Charles. I’m his wife.”

He trailed his finger down her throat. “I don’t know why you’re objecting. You were willing in Fort Worth to take any man into your bed, and I’m not greedy. I’d settle for you coming to me every other night even though I’m the one who had to give up the most to get you.”

“I won’t give myself to you willingly.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me.” He lowered his mouth to her throat and blazed a path toward her ear. “I’m not Charles who’s easily fooled. I know the kind of woman you are. He may think you’re sweet and innocent, but I know the truth.” Lifting his head, his eyes impaled her. “You’re no better than dirt. You promised to spread your legs to the highest bidder. Well, lady, whether you knew it at the time or not, I was the highest bidder. You’ll damn well spread them for me.”

Each word had been fired with deadly accuracy, and she felt them slam into her heart. “I’ll die first.”

“You weren’t willing to die in Fort Worth. Your body wasn’t so precious to you then.”

“It’s still not,” she hissed. “But the vows I exchanged with your brother are.”

She didn’t know whether her words or her vehemence caused him to ease back a little, and she didn’t care. She took advantage of his confusion, pounded her fists against his chest, and slipped through the small crevice her actions had created. Lifting her skirt, she ran to the house.

She rushed into the kitchen, slammed the door shut, and pressed her back against it. Not that it would keep him out.

She didn’t think he’d slept in the house last night. She knew he hadn’t come to the table for breakfast. She now had a clearer understanding of the argument that might have erupted between the brothers last night. Charles had spent Jesse’s money on her. Whatever had possessed him to do such an irresponsible thing? His actions had constituted robbery, and Jesse was unjustly blaming her.

“Ma! Ma!”

The piping sounds reminded her of baby birds in a nest waiting impatiently for their mother to bring them food. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she opened the door. The girls walked into the kitchen, carrying a pail filled with eggs between them. She took the pail, hearing the delicate eggs clatter as she carried it to the sideboard. She set the pail down, took a deep breath, and pressed her hands against the hardwood counter. She needed something to occupy her mind and her hands.

Turning around, she looked into the brown eyes looking at her expectantly. How easily children accepted what adults couldn’t. She ventured a smile that she hoped hid her fear. “How would you like to help me bake a cake?”

Their eyes lit up, and she was reminded of shiny brown buttons. “What kind would you like to make?”

“Ponge,” Taylor said.

“Ponge?”

“She means sponge,” Hannah explained. “It’s Uncle Jesse’s favorite.”

Maddie wanted to shriek. What was it about that man that made these children adore him? If she made a cake for him, she’d use salt in place of sugar—and lots of it. “What is your father’s favorite cake?”

Taylor stuck her finger in her mouth. Hannah drew her brows together in thought, then shrugged her tiny shoulders. Maddie sighed in defeat. “Then I guess we’ll make sponge cake.”

She began gathering the ingredients from the pantry, turning when she felt a tug on her skirt. With a secretive smile, Hannah said, “You’ll be glad.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will. There’s nothing I want more than I want to make your Uncle Jesse happy.”

Hannah’s smile grew. “He can’t make his warning sound when he’s eating sponge cake.”

Maddie dropped to her knees and hugged the child close. “Then maybe we’ll make two.”

Coming out of the tack room, Jesse halted abruptly and watched Hannah walk through the barn. She was holding something in her palms, taking tiny steps and great care not to drop whatever it was. At the rate she was traveling, she’d reach him by the end of the week. With long, sure strides, he crossed the expanse separating them.

A big smile graced her face when she lifted her eyes and hands up to him. “For you.”

Lowering himself to the ground, Jesse took the offering, returning her smile in kind. He took a bite of the cake, closed his eyes, and gave his approval with a gentle purring in his throat. He opened his eyes and touched a finger to the flour resting on her cheek. “Did you make it?”

“Me and Taylor and Ma.”

He looked at the cake. It was still warm. He wondered why he’d thought Charles had made it when Charles had only returned a short time ago. He wondered why Maddie had sent Hannah out with the cake, and he wondered when his brother was going to come to the barn and beat the living hell out of him. He’d been doing as much hard manual labor as he could find so when Charles lit into him he’d be too tired to fight back.

“Eat some more,” Hannah prodded. “Ma made it so you’d be happy. She said so.”

He unfurled his body. The cake suddenly felt like a lead weight resting in his hand. “I’ll finish it while I’m working back here.” He headed for the tack room, then stopped and turned back around. “Tell everyone who made the cake that I appreciate it.”

Delight raced across the child’s features before she raced out of the barn. Jesse walked into the tack room and set the cake on a ledge against the wall.

Maddie stepped out onto the back porch and glanced around the yard. She’d spent the day avoiding Jesse, and it became obvious when he didn’t join them for the noon meal that he was avoiding her as well. She wondered briefly where and what he was eating. It seemed unfair that he should starve to death because Charles had spent his money. If she could, she’d find a way repay him, but not in the manner he’d suggested this morning.

She stepped off the porch and walked toward a small fenced-in area where Aaron knelt before granite markers.

The girls had accepted her as easily as a new day accepts the first rays of the sun. She didn’t expect Aaron to ever call her Ma, but she did want him to at least look at her without distrust marring his features. Taking a deep breath, she stopped beside the fence.

“This is my ma’s resting place. You ain’t welcome here.”

Maddie studied the defiant set of his mouth and wondered what she could do to make sure this child didn’t grow into a hard man, filled with bitterness.

“I noticed all the flowers growing at the front of the house. Did your mother like flowers?”

“She loves flowers.”

“Perhaps you’d like to pick a few and bring them here.”

“You pick ‘em, they die. Then they’re no good,” he said as though she wasn’t much smarter than a mule.

Determined not to lose her patience, Maddie sighed. “There are just so many flowers. What if we planted a few of them here beside the fence?”

“What do you mean?”

Excitement grew inside Maddie as she heard Aaron’s voice for the first time with no anger in it. “Well, we could,
you
could decide which flowers were your mother’s favorites, and we could dig them up and plant them here. Of course, it would all depend on whether or not you knew how to dig up a plant carefully so you don’t damage the roots.”

“Course I know how! I’m the one who helped Ma plant all her flowers.” He twisted his mouth. “Probably ought to check with Pa.”

“He’s taking a nap with Hannah and Taylor.”

“He takes a lot of naps. Could ask Uncle Jesse.”

She wanted to scream. Her permission was all he should need. She was his mother now, although she thought she’d lose whatever she’d gained if she told him what she thought. “If you think you need someone’s permission, go ask your uncle, although people seldom need permission to do something good.”

He pondered her words with great seriousness. “I guess we don’t need to ask Uncle Jesse.” He came outside the fence. “We got some little shovels. We could use the wagon Pa pulls Hannah and Taylor in when we go for picnics. They’re just babies so they get tired easy.”

“Why don’t you get everything, and I’ll meet you in front of the house?”

He darted off toward the barn, and Maddie ambled toward the front of the house.

They worked together in silence. Aaron favored the begonias which flourished in varying shades of red and pink. He carefully dug them up and handed them gingerly to Maddie to set in the wagon. When he had a dozen flowers gathered, he pulled the wagon to the fence that surrounded the small family resting place.

Maddie knelt beside Aaron and worked the ground, preparing the soil to receive the begonias, tunneling the dirt over, discarding the grass and weeds. “When my mother died,” she said quietly, “I was alone. My father and brother were out on a job.”

Aaron worked more vigorously.

“I tied two sticks together so they formed a cross and used that to mark her place.”

He stopped working. “When did she die?”

“Long ago.”

“How old was you?”

“Ten. I still miss her.”

He said no more, but worked diligently to create a new garden. Not until all the flowers were returned to the earth, did he again speak. “S’pose if you wanted, you could step inside the fence.” He stood and put the small shovels into the wagon. “Seein’s as how you helped. I don’t think Ma would mind.”

She stepped inside the fence, whispered a few words, then left quietly.

“What’d you say?”

She picked up the handle on the wagon. “I thanked her for bringing such wonderful children into the world.”

He came up beside her and slipped his hand around the handle. Half his hand covered hers. “I’ll pull it.”

“Why don’t we pull it together to the house? Then you can pull it alone to the barn.”

She breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t object to her suggestion.

Feeling an abundance of guilt, Charles walked into the barn. Night had fallen, supper had been served, and Jesse’s absence had been keenly felt by all. He hadn’t expected his brother to hold onto his anger for so long. “Maddie left some food out on the back porch for you.”

Jesse glanced over his shoulder before returning to the task of grooming his stallion. Midnight had served him well over the years, and he never missed an opportunity to show his appreciation. “I saw it.”

“So why didn’t you take it? She’s a hell of a cook.”

“Is that the reason you married her?”

“I married her because I want my children to grow up knowing a mother’s love.”

“I don’t know why the hell no one thinks I can take care of children.” Jesse spun around and pounded a tightened fist to his chest. “I promised I’d take care of them. I’d see to it they stayed a family.”

Charles heard twenty years of pain erupt in his brother’s voice. “Is that what this is about?” he asked quietly. “You think I don’t trust you to look after my children?”

“Why the hell else would you take a wife on such short notice?”

Charles sighed heavily. “Do you know what I remember most about our mother? I remember the way she smelled—like honeysuckle laced with flour. I remember the feel of her fingers as she moved the hair off my brow, the lilt of her voice as she sang us to sleep. My children have no such memories, Jesse. They have none of that softness in their lives.”

“But why marry a woman you had to buy? What the hell kind of a woman do you think works in a brothel?”

“A desperate one.”

“And you want a woman like that, a woman who’d sell her body, to raise your children? She’ll have your daughters dressed in red gowns and your son’s virginity before he’s twelve.”

Charles laughed, a sad, sorrow-filled laugh. “Dear God, Jesse, how wonderful it must be to have never in your life been desperate. To have always been in control of your destiny. To have never once traveled a path not of your choosing.”

“A person always has a choice.”

“When Mother and Father died and different families took us in, were we choosing then? Did you want to—” Closing his eyes tightly, he pressed a tightened fist to his forehead. “Did you want to travel that road, Jesse? Is that why they had to tie you up to keep you in that wagon?” Opening his eyes, he glared at Jesse. “Two nights ago, you told me you didn’t judge a person before you knew them, and here you are judging and hanging Maddie—” Groaning, he brought another fist up and pressed the heels of both hands against his brow.

Jesse took a few steps toward him. “Are the pains back?”

“They seldom leave anymore.” He staggered before falling to his knees.

Jesse rushed across the space separating them, dropped beside Charles, and dug his fingers into his hard thighs. “What’d the doctor in Fort Worth say?”

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