The Texan's Bride (11 page)

Cadde pushed up on his elbows. “Damn beautiful sight, too.” He was looking at her, not Mirry.

She gave him a long kiss. “I’m taking Mirry outside. She has to go pee.”

He frowned. “It’s barely five in the morning.”

“I know.” She reached for her cotton robe and slipped it on, tying the sash. “We won’t be long.”

Jessie carried Mirry downstairs and sat on the step while the dog did her business. Mirry sniffed the grass, the air and seemed to enjoy the warm early morning.

Suddenly, Cadde sat beside her.

She pushed back her hair. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Mmm.” He put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Just thought it wouldn’t hurt to witness a miracle.”

“She’s better, Cadde. She’s better.”

He stroked her hair. “And so are we.”

“Yeah.”

Cadde may not get the flowery words right, but he
more than made up for it in his actions. If she loved him any more she was actually going to hurt. There was a softness in him that was hard to reach, but once it was exposed he was like a soft cuddle bear. She had a feeling the softness came from his mother.

She wondered like so many times in the past what qualities she got from her mother. She’d never know. Why was she thinking about it now when she was so happy?

Resting against Cadde, she felt at peace for the first time in forever. They watched Mirry taking awkward, sure steps in the grass.

Just like they were.

C
ADDE WAS KNEE-DEEP IN
figures when Kid strolled into his office and slapped folders onto his desk. “All done, big brother, signed, sealed and delivered.”

“You got the leases signed that we needed?”

“Yep. Took some legwork and going through the deeds at the courthouse, but every owner I approached was willing to sign. Times are tough everywhere and the hope of extra money is a welcome green light.”

“Did you get them at the price we discussed?”

“Yep. No one asked for more.” Kid placed a book on the desk. “Here’s the draft book.”

“You did a great job, Kid.”

“Hell, yeah, I did.” Kid plopped into a chair and propped his boots on the desk. “And what the hell am I doing running around busting my ass on these leases while you’re tearing up the agreement with Jessie?”

Cadde leaned back. “Chance told you?”

“Yes, and I can’t believe you jeopardized this whole project.”

“I didn’t want to start our marriage with that agreement hanging over our heads. I had to trust Jessie to make the right decision for herself and for Shilah.”

“What?”

“It’s called trust, Kid.”

“Who the hell are you?” Kid jumped to his feet. “Where’s Cadde, my brother whose focus is the oil business and only the oil business?”

Cadde leaned forward. “I’ve changed. My priorities are split between family and business.”

“Oh, God, I need a drink. I can’t take this on a sober stomach.”

Cadde picked up his pen. “I’m sure you can find someone to keep you company.”

“It used to be my brothers, but now all they talk about is marriage, babies and trust. God, I need a stiff one.”

“Have fun. You’ve earned it.”

“You bet I have and this night is not going to be about trust. It’s going to be about having one helluva good time.”

“I never thought otherwise.”

With his hand on the door, Kid paused and turned back. “I’ve been eating crawfish with beer three times a day in Louisiana so I might be a little punch-drunk already. But I’m happy you and Jessie have found some sort of balance.”

“Thanks, Kid.”

Cadde shook his head, wondering if Kid would ever
grow up. And if there was a woman alive who could put up with him on a daily basis.

Smiling, he reached for the draft book and unlocked the bottom drawer on his desk. Placing it inside, he spotted a brown folder at the back. He’d never noticed that before and he pulled it out. A pink string held it together.

What was this?

Slowly, he undid the bowknot and opened the folder. An eight-by-ten glossy photo of a woman in a string bikini jumped out at him. Her long dark hair flowed over her shoulder and her olive complexion was smooth and silky.
Jessie.
She looked like Jessie but Cadde knew it wasn’t. Jessie was much more beautiful.

More photos followed of Roscoe and the woman, the woman and Roscoe with a baby and more of just the woman and a baby. Without a doubt, he knew this was Jessie’s mother. As he turned over the last photo, he found a sticky note. On it was written:
Cadde, use this information as you see fit. Roscoe.

What the hell?

Then he began to read what looked like a letter to Jessie.

Cadde just stared at the words on the paper, unable to do anything but think about how this was going to affect Jessie. He’d never understood the tight security on Jessie after so many years. Now he knew. Roscoe did not want Angela to take Jessie, and if Jessie was older she might choose her mother over Roscoe.

Good God! How did he deal with this? How did he tell Jessie? How could he not? A marriage based on trust wasn’t going anywhere if he kept things from her. And Jessie craved information about her mother.

He reached for his cell and punched in a number. “Chip, I need all the information you can get me on Angela Martinez from Las Vegas, Nevada.” Chip was a computer whiz kid who worked for Shilah. He’d find whatever Cadde needed to know about Jessie’s mother.

Now he waited.

J
ESSIE OPENED THE BOX
and read the instructions. It had been a month since she and Cadde had had sex for the first time. She was fudging…a little. Three weeks and four days was more accurate, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She’d bought a pregnancy test.

Mirry looked up at her. “I have to pee on a stick, Mirry, so you might not want to watch this.”

The dog slowly made her way back to her soft pillow.

Jessie did the test and laid it flat on the bathroom vanity. Staring at the result window, she crossed her fingers and hoped for two pink lines.

“Jessie.” She heard Cadde calling. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs!” she shouted.

“Come down. I need to talk to you.”

What! There was something serious in his deep voice that hadn’t been there this morning. She was torn between hurrying down to see Cadde and waiting the appropriate time for the test results.

“Can it wait a minute?”

“No. It’s important.”

That didn’t sound good. She gave the test one last look and ran downstairs.

She found Cadde in her father’s study, pacing. By
the scowl on his handsome face she knew something was wrong. It had to be about Shilah and it had to be the reason he was home so early.

To soothe her jittery nerves, she went into his arms and hugged him. Smiling, she glanced up at him. “What is it?”

He took her lips in a long kiss and she sighed in contentment. How could she love one person so much? She ached when he wasn’t with her.

Suddenly, he stepped back. “I’m getting sidetracked. We have to talk.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Getting sidetracked is much more fun.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Did something go wrong with the Louisiana leases?”

“No, everything is moving forward.”

She stared at his hatless head. “Did you lose your hat again?”

“No. It’s in the truck.”

“Come on, Cadde, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

“Okay.” He held up both hands. “I found something that your father meant for me to find.”

The jittery nerves returned full force. “What?”

“It’s more or less a letter to you.”

Her panic eased a little. “When I was small and he was away for any length of time, he’d write me letters. Is it a letter that got lost in the mail?”

“No. This is serious.” Cadde took her hand and led her around the big desk and gently pushed her into her
father’s chair. The putrid scent of cigars lingered—a reminder of her father.

A brown folder tied with a pink string lay in front of her. Cadde touched it. “This is what I found.”

She reached for the string and Cadde caught her hand once again. “Please read what’s inside with an open mind.”

Her stomach clenched. There was no doubt that the contents were going to change her life. A part of her wanted to not open it, the other part had her reaching for the string. She jumped back in the chair as an almost nude woman stared at her.

“Who is that?”

“Your mother,” Cadde replied, and confirmed what she already suspected.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” She held her hands against her mouth in shock. Recovering quickly, she rifled through the other photos, hardly able to take her eyes off the smiling dark-haired woman. Her stomach clenched tighter as she read the letter.

For so many years she’d wondered and the truth was nothing like she’d imagined. Her mother was a stripper who her father had paid to have his child. She was that child. All the protection, the sheltering and smothering was to keep her from having any contact with Angela—her mother. And…and…

She quickly closed the folder, snatched it up and ran from the room.

“Jessie!”

She didn’t stop. She rushed into her room, slammed
the door and locked it. Sliding to the floor, she held the folder to her chest.

The doorknob turned. “Jessie, open this door.”

“No.”

“Jessie, please.”

His voice washed over her like warm soothing water. Why wasn’t he running in the other direction? She was the daughter of a stripper who was paid to have her? And…she couldn’t even say the rest in her head. It was too awful.

“Jessie, please.”

Oh, that strong, compelling voice had her. Getting to her feet, she unlocked the door, crawled into the middle of the bed and sat cross-legged, the folder clutched against her chest.

As Cadde entered, she said, “Please go away.”

He sat on the bed, facing her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why?” She brushed away a tear and held out the folder. “Haven’t you read this?”

“Yes. You now know the circumstances of your birth and who your mother is. Why would that affect me other than to be concerned for you?”

“Because I’m just like
him.
”

He frowned. “What?”

“He paid Angela for a baby and I tricked you into having one. I’m a horrible, horrible person just like my father.” She dissolved into tears and couldn’t seem to stop them.

“Jessie, stop crying.” He tucked strands of her hair behind her ear and she wanted to absorb herself into
him, not caring that the letter had clearly pointed out her selfish inherited faults. “Our situation is completely different from Roscoe’s and Angela’s. We’re married and building a life together and you didn’t trick me into anything. I went into our marriage with my eyes wide-open.”

“But you didn’t want a baby.” For her own sanity she had to point that out.

“I do now. And we tore up the agreement, remember?” He stroked her wet cheek and once again she burst into tears. He was so gentle, so kind and she didn’t deserve it.

“Jessie, please…wait, I’ll get you some tissues.”

As he walked into the bathroom, she tried to stop the tears, but couldn’t. The more she wiped them away, the more they flowed.

“Jessie,” Cadde called. “There’s a pregnancy test on the vanity and there’s two pink lines in the window. What does that mean?”

“What? Oh…oh!” She’d forgotten about the test. She leaped from the bed and frightened Mirry. “It’s okay, Mirry,” she reassured the dog, and dashed into the bathroom to gaze at the results.

“What does that mean?” Cadde asked again.

“It means I’m…uh…we’re pregnant. We’re pregnant!” She jumped up and down in excitement.

Cadde grabbed her and swung her round and round. “We’re pregnant,” he said in awe.

The wonder in his voice brought on more tears and she sank to the floor in a blubbering heap, totally confused with her reaction.

He squatted in front of her. “Why are you crying?”

“I don’t know!” she wailed.

“I’m happy. You’re happy, right?”

“Yes!” she wailed louder.

He scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom. Gently depositing her on the bed, he lay beside her, boots and all. Pulling her against his side, he said, “Cry all you want.”

And she did just that. She could hear this insane woman boohooing and she thought it surely couldn’t be her. But it was. All the heartache from her past ebbed from her system. It was replaced with the bright glow of the future.

She rubbed her wet face on his white shirt. “We’re having a baby.”

“Yes,” he replied, and she felt him stiffen.

“Why did you do that?”

“I’m waiting for more tears. I’ve heard pregnant women get emotional.”

She wiped her face against him again. “I’m through crying.”

“Good.” He pulled her closer.

“I look like my mother,” she murmured, playing with a button on his shirt.

“Yes. She’s beautiful, but you’re more beautiful.”

She turned her head to see his face. “You think so?” That sounded as if she was fishing for a compliment and she wasn’t. He’d said it many times when they were naked, but never when they weren’t.

“Most definitely.” He kissed her forehead and that touch, that reassurance, made her feel better.

“I wonder where she is now.”

“I had my computer guy do a background check on her.”

She sat up on her knees, eager for any news about her mother. She didn’t understand it, but that thirst for information was there.

“And?”

He pushed into a sitting position. “She died when you were nine years old.”

“Oh.” Her hands fluttered against her mouth as a poignant moment of sadness hit her.

“All the security and protection was for nothing, but Roscoe never checked. I guess his pride wouldn’t let him.”

She fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “How did she die?”

“She married a guy named Juan Ruiz who was a member of a gang and crazy jealous. One night as Angela was stripping, a guy tried to touch her. Juan pulled a knife, confronting him. Angela jumped off the stage to stop the fight and Juan accidentally stabbed her. He spent five years in prison for her death.”

“Oh, my.”

“Chip was able to locate him. He’s back in Vegas, remarried with a family and no longer a member of a gang. Chip had a phone number, so I called. It’s amazing what people will tell you over the phone.”

She looked up. “What did he say?”

“Angela married him because he promised her that he and some of his gang members would help her steal you.”

“Oh, no.”

“Yes. The plan was to take you to Mexico to hide you from Roscoe. They tried three times, but the guards prevented them from getting anywhere near you.”

“What guards? I didn’t have any guards until after Crissy was kidnapped.”

“You had guards, Jessie. You just didn’t see them.”

Could that be true? She was just a kid and never sensed anyone was watching her. “How do you know this?”

“When Juan mentioned guards, I thought he was confused so I had Arnie check the payroll records from back then. Roscoe started paying guards when you were eighteen months old.”

She shook her head. “I never knew.”

“Juan said the first time they just walked up to the front door of Al’s house, intending to kick the door in and take you. Before they even made it to the door, two men were on them with guns. They managed to get away. The second time they attempted to break into your window at Roscoe’s. Once again the guards stopped them. The third time they tried to snatch you from a playground. Again, they were detected, and that time they went to jail. The cops didn’t have any evidence so they had to let them go. But Roscoe was very aware that Angela was still trying to abduct you.”

“Did they try once we moved here?”

“No.” Cadde glanced around the room. “This fortress was too high-tech for uneducated gang members. But Angela kept planning to get you back…until her death.”

She sank back on her heels. “I guess that was the main reason for all the tight security. I can’t even imagine what my life would have been like had they succeeded.”

“Not good,” he said with his usual honesty, and she had to admit he was right.

She flipped back her long hair. “And I probably wouldn’t have been a thirty-year-old virgin.”

“And I’m really, really grateful for that.” He caressed her thigh.

Linking her fingers with his, she said, “It feels kind of strange that my life could have turned out so differently and it makes me angry at both of them for subjecting me, an innocent child, to that type of custody hell.”

His hand gripped hers. “It’s over.”

“I know, but it’s hard to take all this in.” She stroked his hand with her other one. “Daddy said my mother came from a poor family. Did she have any siblings? Any family?”

“Your grandparents are dead. Your grandfather was Mexican and your grandmother was white.”

Jessie touched her hair. “Since my father was also white, I guess that’s why I’m not as dark as my mother.”

“Probably.”

“Do I have any siblings?”

“No.”

“And my mother?”

“She had two brothers and two sisters.”

“Are they living?” That kernel of interest was still there.

“The brothers are dead. One was a member of a gang and he introduced Juan to Angela. He was killed in a gang fight. The other worked in a casino and was a dealer in a back room high-stakes poker game. Something went wrong and he was shot.” He lifted her chin. “Guess what the middle sister’s occupation is?”

“A hooker.” She grimaced.

“No. A nun.”

“What?”

“She works in an orphanage in Italy.”

“And the other sister?”

“She was also a stripper and got involved in drugs and prostitution. When she was arrested, her sister, the nun, came from Italy and the police released her into her sister’s care. She works at the orphanage now, helping take care of kids who have no one.”

“Is she a nun, too?”

“Chip couldn’t find anything to confirm that. But she lives with the nuns and has done so for the past fifteen years.” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe one day we’ll go to Italy so you can meet them.”

She poked him in the chest. “You will never be able to stay away from Shilah that long.”

He gathered her into his arms. “You never know.” Stroking her hair, he asked, “Are you okay?”

“It’s like sleeping with the light off. As long as you’re here, I can do it. As long as you’re here, I can handle anything.”

He turned her face to look at him. “Please never ask me to leave again.”

“I won’t,” she said, smiling. “We’re having a baby.”

“Mmm.” He took her lips and nothing was said for some time. All the bits and pieces from her past fit together like squares of a quilt to make it complete. And that’s the way she felt—complete in a way that surprised her. There was no wonder anymore. She knew exactly who she was and the enormous price her father had paid to have her. His life was fraught with fear and that was the biggest price of all.

It was her life now and fear was not a part of it. She had Cadde and a baby on the way. That was what real life was about—loving and living. Against her will, a niggling doubt surfaced. Cadde hadn’t said that he loved her. It hadn’t ever bothered her before so why was it bothering her now?

A baby changed everything and she wanted it all, just like a fairy tale. She held on to what she had, though— Cadde in her arms and in her life. Would their marriage be like her parents’ relationship? Would Cadde be unable to love her the way Angela couldn’t love her father? No, Cadde had said they were different and they were.