The Texan's Bride (4 page)

He rushed through the back door and found Jessie pacing in the living room, her dog trailing her every step.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” The rest of his excuse evaporated as he stared at his wife. He knew the poised Jessie in business suits and the casual Jessie in jeans, but the sexy siren in front of him was someone else entirely. He could feel his blood pressure taking a hit.

She looked at the gold watch on her arm. “Fifteen minutes, to be precise.”

“I told you I had a lot of work to do and I got away as quickly as I could.”

“And so gallant about it, too.”

“Let’s go then.” He struggled to look anywhere but at her cleavage. He felt like a teenager seeing breasts for the first time.

Jessie bent to pat the dog. “Go upstairs to your bed, Mirry. I’ll be back later.” The little thing trotted away as if she understood every word.

“Where did you get her?” he asked to focus his attention on something beside her. If it was up to him, they’d just go upstairs but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted—just yet. Damn! Why did women have to be so picky?

“I found her on the side of the road,” Jessie was saying. “Someone abused her severely and left her for dead.”

He experienced a moment of guilt for not liking the little dog. The cruelty of people floored him, but Mirry seemed to have found a savior in Jessie.

“You’re staring,” she said.

He blinked. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down.”

She called his bluff immediately. “My hair is here.” She touched her head.

“Okay, I was staring at your breasts,” he admitted like the honest Christian boy that he was. “I never realized you had…”

“Breasts,” she finished for him.

He nodded, wishing they’d never started this conversion.

“They’re pretty much standard equipment, Cadde.”

He sighed. “Could we go?”

“Sure.” She picked up a small purse from the coffee table.

“Do you want to go in my truck or your Suburban?”

“Your truck,” she replied. “My vehicle has feed in it and it’s smelly.”

“What do you feed?”

“Animals that would starve if I didn’t.”

They talked as they walked through the dining room to the kitchen. Rosa had said something about animals and now he was curious.

“What kind of animals?”

“I have five horses from the Houston SPCA. Their owner left them to starve to death in a pasture. I know someone there and she calls me when they have an animal that’s been mistreated or abused and needs a home. I also have a donkey that had an infected eye and a ram with one horn. Gavin cut off the other one and operated on the donkey’s eye. They’re doing very well. The horses were skittish at first, but between Gavin, Felix and me we’ve managed to gain their trust. Gavin doctors their sores every week or so.”

“Who’s Gavin?”

“The vet.” He opened the back door and she asked, “Do you want to know who Felix is?”

“No. I sign his damn paycheck. Why isn’t he picking up the feed?”

“Felix was busy and I was in town at a board meeting, as you may recall, so I picked it up. No big deal.”

As soon as they stepped into the garage, the Dobermans sniffed at their feet.

“Oh, I hate these dogs.” Jessie made a face.

“Why?” Again he was curious. She seemed to have an affinity for animals.

“They’re trained to kill. I told Daddy I didn’t want an animal like that, but he insisted when he went on that trip to Alaska. He was afraid someone would breach the security system while he was gone. And he wanted a surprise for the perpetrator.”

Cadde remembered that trip with Roscoe. They were checking out the oil situation, but Roscoe decided it was too damn cold for his Texas blood. Roscoe called Jessie two to three times a day and sometimes more if he was feeling restless and worried. Fear was his constant companion. He never lost the paranoia that someone was going to take Jessie from him.

“Why don’t you just get rid of them?” he suggested.

“I tried. No one wants a dog like that. I might see if Gavin can gently put them to sleep. I hate doing that but they kill every animal that comes into their perimeter—squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, possums, birds, anything. There’s always something dead in the yard in the mornings.”

She took a breath. “And they attacked the man who delivers hay for the horses. He stopped at the house and made the mistake of getting out of his truck. They were on him in a second. Felix was barely able to grab their collars and restrain them so the man could get inside his vehicle. It was very scary. I’m even afraid to go out after dark, and if they attack one of my mistreated animals I would just die.”

“Then call your friend Gavin first thing in the morning.” He didn’t want her living in fear. He wasn’t all that fond of the dogs, either.

They walked to the passenger side of his King Ranch truck. Suddenly she turned and he bumped into her. He caught her arms to steady her. Smooth, silky skin tempted his fingers and a delicate fragrance wafted to his nostrils. His heart rate rose like mercury in a thermometer. Oh, God. He released her. This was going to be a long, long evening.

“A couple of days ago Will brought me a baby fawn,” Jessie was saying. “Someone had killed her mother.”

“Who’s Will?” How many men came out here to see Jessie? He knew she was the big selling point. The animals were just an excuse. For the first time jealousy flickered in his gut. It was ridiculous. He’d never had these symptoms with the other women he’d dated. So why was Jessie different?

“The game warden,” she replied, and he jerked his attention back to the conversation. “The little thing needed nourishment badly. I have her in a cage in the barn. Since she’s a new scent I’m afraid the Dobermans
will attack her. I keep a rifle at the barn and one in the house if anything goes awry.”

“Jessie, I don’t like the sound of this. Call the vet.”

She flipped back her long hair. “Are you telling me what to do?”

“Yes,” he replied.

In the light from the garage he could see her black eyes flashing. “Just so you know I don’t respond well to people telling me what to do.”

He met her gaze. “Just so you know, as your husband, I’ll be doing that—a lot.”

“I figured,” she replied in a saucy tone. “Don’t expect me to be a dutiful wife.”

He opened the passenger door of his white truck. “That’s the last thing I expect from you.”

She laughed softly and it seemed to clear the tiredness and stress from his mind.

His vehicle was high off the ground and he intended to help her inside, but she hitched up her skirt, showing a long length of smooth thighs, and hopped in without a problem.

Why did Roscoe think Jessie was fragile and helpless? She had as much strength as he had. Why had Roscoe never seen that?

He walked around to the driver’s side. Why had
he
never seen that? He just assumed Jessie was as vulnerable as Roscoe had described. They’d both been wrong. Jessie could match his strength any day of the week.
Their marriage would be a test of wills. Who’d be the first to give in, the first to compromise?

As he backed out, he knew one thing. It wasn’t going to be him.

S
TUPID
! S
TUPID
! J
ESSIE CURSED
silently. Why didn’t she let Cadde help her? Her father’s paranoia had made her dependent and she’d spent many years staking her independence, proving to everyone, mostly herself, that she was capable of handling her life. Claiming that prize hadn’t been easy, but she was tired of being afraid of everything around her. So she faced life head-on, determined to do things on her own. Sometimes, though, she needed to make better judgment calls—like tonight.

Little was said as Cadde drove away from the house. She watched his big hands on the steering wheel: capable, efficient and strong. That described him to a T.

A Shilah Oil coffee cup was in the console along with papers listing oil wells and production numbers. The four-door cab truck was big, but with Cadde’s presence it seemed to grow smaller. A woodsy coffee scent tempted her nostrils. She leaned back and let the cool air from the air-conditioning calm her nerves.

When they reached the cutoff to U.S. 290, Cadde stopped the truck. “Where would you like to go?” His tone indicated he didn’t care and that irritated her.

“There’s a nice Italian restaurant in Brenham,” she replied. “It might be more miles, but less traffic.”

“Fine.” He turned right. He was halfway friendly
earlier. Now he seemed to have nailed that door shut. If he wanted to be temperamental, that was okay with her—up to a point. This evening was about them getting to know each other and he had to make an effort.

They breezed into Brenham, a small town of nearly fifteen thousand, and home to Blue Bell Creamery. As a child, she loved it when her dad would take her to get ice cream. Even though it was one of her fondest memories, it took all of her childish imagination to ignore the guards. She had wanted to run and play with the other kids, but was never allowed.

She switched her attention to the road and gave Cadde directions. He followed them without saying a word. When he stopped at the house that had been converted into a restaurant, he asked, “Is this it?” Clearly, he wasn’t impressed.

“Yes. It’s very nice and has great food,” she informed him.

“Fine,” he said again in that clipped tone.

She gritted her teeth and got out. It was pointless to wait for him to help her. She’d already blown that.

As they walked to the front door, a warm breeze ruffled her hair. Tossing it back, she gazed at him and had to admit he’d made an effort in dressing. He wore dark slacks, a white shirt, with his dress boots and Stetson. Every woman in the place was going to be looking at him. He had that air, that presence that drew attention. He’d certainly caught hers and her feelings hadn’t changed since the first time she’d met him. She had to wonder, though, if they could build a life on her feelings alone.

They didn’t have a reservation, but were able to be seated without waiting. She could just imagine Cadde’s ire at having to wait. Their table was by a fireplace, which was unlit because it was the last month of summer. Still, with the muted lighting and a candle flickering in the center of the linen tablecloth, it was very romantic. They had a view of a small courtyard with green plants. The whole ambience was relaxing. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to enjoy the evening.

Cadde laid his hat on a chair as a waiter placed menus in front of them. “May I get you something to drink?” he asked.

“A glass of your best chardonnay,” Cadde replied without pausing.

The waiter turned to her. “I’ll have the same,” she told him.

As the waiter walked away, she opened her menu. “The chicken alfredo is good, and so is the marsala.”

“Mmm.” He studied the dinner entrées.

The waiter came back with two glasses of wine. Setting them on the white tablecloth with a coaster, he asked, “Are you ready to order?”

Jessie closed her menu and unfolded her linen napkin. “Yes. I’ll have the chicken alfredo.”

Cadde did likewise. “Parmesan steak. Medium rare.”

She should have known he’d order steak. There was just something about Texas men that they had to have steak. Her father had been the same.

She shifted uneasily and thought this would be a good time for them to talk. Straightening her napkin in
her lap, she said, “You have two brothers, but I know little else about you or your family.”

“I was born in High Cotton, Texas.” He took a gulp of the wine. “After our parents died in a car accident, we lived with our aunt and uncle.” A flash of resentment crossed his handsome face.

“Your expression changed when you mentioned your parents.”

He looked at her for probably the first time since they’d left the house. “I don’t know why.” His chilling tone issued a warning—
don’t pry.

The silence stretched and she could almost feel a negative vibration coming from him telling her he wasn’t in a talkative mood. She was about to ignore all the warnings when their dinners arrived.

Cadde emptied his glass. “Bring the bottle, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

In a matter of seconds, the waiter was back with the wine.

“Thank you,” Cadde replied, filling his glass.

She twirled fettuccine around her fork and watched him cut into his steak with sharp strokes. Between each bite he gulped the wine. After the third glass, she’d had it. She carefully placed her napkin on the table and picked up her purse.

“If you have to drink yourself silly to have dinner with me, then the deal is off.” She stood and strolled from the room, but not before she saw the shock on his face.

At the small entry alcove, she asked the lady for a taxi. She didn’t even know if Brenham had taxis, but
evidently they did since the woman handed her a card with a number. She noted the curious look on the woman’s face. After seeing her come in with Cadde, she was probably wondering what was going on.

As she went out the door, she punched the number in on her cell and gave the taxi company her location. Darkness had settled in over the neighborhood, but the outside lights were bright, illuminating her way. The houses were lit up and a couple of boys rode by on bicycles, enjoying the last days of summer. Through some of the windows with open curtains she could see families were sharing their day—loving families. That was something she was never going to have so she might as well face it.

She glanced at her phone for the time. How long did it take a taxi to get here? The cell was suddenly jerked from her hand. She whirled around to find Cadde. He was furious from what she could glimpse in the streetlight. His hat hid most of his expression.

“Give it back to me.” She jumped for it, which was ridiculous since he was so much taller.

“You’re going home the same way you came here,” he snapped.

“Like hell. I’m not going anywhere with a man who has to get drunk to spend a couple of hours with me.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Oh, please.” She placed her hands on her hips.

“Jessie…”

The cab drove up, interrupting him. Cadde opened the door and handed the guy some bills. “Sorry. Thank you.”

Jessie was seething. How dare he! She was so angry she was about to burst out of her dress. “Give me my damn phone!”

“You’re not getting it.” He held it higher and it made her that much angrier. “Listen to me. I’m not drunk, but it’s hard for me to adjust to this situation so easily. For years Roscoe told me to never mess with his daughter. You were off-limits. I can’t make an about-face overnight.”

Some of her anger cooled. “Why would Daddy say that?” She couldn’t believe her father would do such a thing, but then again he protected her from life every way he could. He scared most of her men friends away only because he was afraid of her getting hurt. Cadde was different, though. Her father knew him.

“Think about it, Jessie. Roscoe shielded you from everything and everyone.”

“That doesn’t excuse your insensitive behavior tonight.” She wasn’t letting him off with that ludicrous explanation. “Give me the phone and we’ll call this evening a waste of time and put a big emphasis on my insanity in thinking that we could make this marriage work.”

“Jessie…”

She didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. Jumping for her phone again, she stumbled in her high heels and fell toward him. His arms went around her and he balanced her against the car that was parked at the curb. Somewhere between the anger and something she couldn’t describe, everything changed.

Her breathing became shallow as his head bent to
ward her. She stood on tiptoes to meet his lips. It wasn’t gentle nor did she expect it to be. Her arms slid around his neck and she melted into a kiss fueled by anger but buffeted by emotions that doused every trace of outraged feelings. His lips softened and she went with the flow of discovering Cadde.

He tasted of wine—heady, delicious wine that made her dizzy. She knew he would kiss this way, completely, mindlessly and without any doubt of who was in control. The hair at his nape tickled her fingers, his broad chest felt like a wall she could always lean on for support. Her phone was still in his hand and it rubbed her back in a soothing erotic way. His other hand pressed her closer to his male frame, and she experienced his all-consuming power.

Just when she thought her feet would leave the ground and she’d float around in outer space from the sheer pleasure, he eased his lips to her cheek, to her forehead.

“Let’s go home,” he whispered in a throaty voice.

She breathed in the heady scent of him, the wine. The moonlight spilled its magic rays upon them and she wanted to explore these feelings, but she also knew she wasn’t ready. She needed time to get to know him. Would he understand?

“I’m hungry,” she murmured.

“Me, too.” He kissed her forehead and her resolve weakened.

She played with a button on his shirt. “I’m hungry for food.”

“Jessie,” he groaned.

“You ate. I didn’t.”

He took a step backward and the heat of summer stung her skin—skin that he’d refreshed with his male touch. She felt bereft, wanting his body against hers again. Why was she hesitating? She wanted more than a sexual relationship. She wanted love and trust along with the intimacy. She wanted a marriage that would last a lifetime.

To ease her erratic thoughts, she picked up her purse from the ground where she’d dropped it when she’d stumbled. Her hair fell forward and she flipped it back.

He handed her the cell and stared. The moonlight seemed to draw them closer and closer, not physically, but emotionally.
He understood.
Taking her hand, he led her into the restaurant. “These people are going to think we’re nuts.”

She laughed and it eased all the doubts in her mind. They needed moments like this to build a foundation for a real marriage.

The lady at the entrance looked surprised and the waiter raised a questioning eyebrow since they were seated at the same table. But being a professional, he asked politely, “Would you like something to drink?”

“Iced tea,” Cadde replied, hooking his hat on a chair.

“Me, too,” Jessie added. “And I’ll have the alfredo again with a house salad.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The waiter walked away with a curious expression.

Laughter bubbled inside her.

“Don’t laugh,” Cadde said, as he noticed her strug
gle to contain her amusement. “He has a right to think we’re insane.”

She unfolded her napkin. “Don’t start again. This evening is about us getting to know each other.”

“I certainly know a lot more about you. You’re as stubborn as Roscoe.”

She bit her tongue to keep sharp words from escaping. Patience was not her forte, but tonight she would try. Just as well the waiter returned with a tray. He placed iced tea on a napkin and a salad in front of her and then served Cadde’s drink.

“Thank you,” she said, and the waiter walked away with a slight smile.

Soft music played in the background. She hadn’t noticed that earlier, but now it seemed to intensify the romantic mood. Picking up her fork, she was determined they’d have a normal conversation, even though she knew she was stepping on some forbidden ground.

“How old were you when your parents died?”

Cadde was staring at his Stetson, but her soft voice drew his undivided attention. Well, partially. He was reeling from the kiss. The off-limits signs were no longer in his head. Jessie had completely demolished them with her passion. He still tasted her lipstick—tasted her. He’d always thought of Jessie as unemotional because she was cool, businesslike. He was wrong—again. Now he was learning about Jessie the hard way—shock after shock. Her lips, her touch he would remember for a long time.

He moved uncomfortably. “I was sixteen.” Running his thumb across the rim of the glass, he felt its damp
ness, its coolness. This wasn’t an easy subject for him to talk about, but he couldn’t continue to stare at the glass or his hat. He had to share. That’s what Jessie wanted. It was time to open the door he kept firmly locked. He wrestled with his thoughts.

“We…were in Austin at the state basketball championship for our district and Kid and I played on the team. Kid was almost fifteen but tall for his age so the coach let him play cause we needed another player. High Cotton had never gone that far in the play-offs and we were determined to win, which we did by one point. We were riding a wave of excitement and someone sneaked beer onto the bus—well, everyone knew it was Kid. He never said how he got it and I didn’t want to know. The coach fell asleep in the front seat and the driver’s attention was on the road. We celebrated all the way home.”

He gripped the cold glass. “When we reached the school, the principal was waiting for Kid and me. We thought it was because of the beer. He took us to the gym and Aunt Etta, Uncle Rufus and Chance were there. Chance had a bruise on his face and arm and his clothes were dirty. The moment I saw him I knew something was terribly wrong.” He took a swallow of tea to cool the heated emotions inside him.

“Our aunt put her arms around us, and said, ‘Boys, your parents died tonight.’ The world we knew suddenly ended. The high of the win was replaced with a gut-wrenching low. We stood there holding on to each other until Dane Belle walked in.”