Be My Texas Valentine

by Jodi Thomas

  Her body had lost some of its stiffness and he found his legs clamped alongside her hips, as she moved a little in the saddle. Hunter’s left hand settled on her thigh, but he quickly jerked it away.

  “That’s very admirable of you to do something so special for your mother. She’s one in a million, and you know how much she means to me.” She rested her hand on his knee to leverage herself, as she shifted her weight once again. “It has to be hard on you.”

  It took everything in him not to say, “If you want to know hard ...” As difficult as it was, he forced himself not to think about how much just being near her aroused him.

  He gathered his thoughts and focused on her words, not the way his body was reacting to hers. He felt like he did as a teenager when he first discovered the difference between a man and a woman.

  “I was young, healthy, and invincible. Sure didn’t mind the work. Mama and Paw raised me that if I wanted anything, I had to work for it. I’ve never considered my gambling anything but a hobby, maybe a bad one. I learned from my paw to never put anything on the table, be it money or property, unless you can afford to lose it. That philosophy worked for me. I still play that way today.”

  “Maybe you should teach me the game.” Laurel laughed full-heartedly.

  “Well, I could but you don’t need the money and it’s hard to stop once you begin. Pretty addictive, unless you play smart. If you play dumb, you lose everything, but if you play smart, you can have the world.”

  “Maybe we could play for sticks of Arbuckle’s peppermints,” she said, then added, “I presume they still give you one in every bag.”

  “They do,” he said.

  “I just have one question. How would we determine the winner? The one with the hardest stick wins ... or maybe the longest?”

  He could imagine the playful smile she had on her face, as she settled back against his chest. She knew exactly what her words inferred. The wind tossed her hair around, and he smelled the scent of honeysuckle and lilacs, only increasing his awareness of Laurel.

  Hunter smiled to himself. She had no idea just how much he’d like to play some high-stakes poker with the woman molded against his body.

  As if she read his mind, she changed subjects. “Hunter, I apologize for taking so long to tell you how sorry I was to learn of your father’s passing.” With warmth and caring, she lightly patted his knee. “I didn’t know about it until today.”

  “Thanks. Everyone had money on him gettin’ shot in a bar fight, not trampled by a bull.” He shook off the horrific memories of finding his father’s body and said, “Never a day goes by that I don’t miss him.”

  It seemed only right that he mention the loss of her own parents, although it’d been years before. “I’m sorry that I never had the opportunity to express my sympathy to you for your loss, too. How did they die?” He stopped and took a breath before he went on, “That is, if you want to talk about it.”

  Laurel’s back stiffened and he felt her arms shaking. Even after all the years, it was obvious talking about their deaths was still too painful for her to handle. He quickly said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  Only the rustle of the wind on the mesquite and yucca answered.

  Hunter felt about as low as a slithering rattler for even bringing up the subject. He was enjoying how Laurel felt in his arms—all grown up—and he tried to avoid the awkwardness by stating, “We’re not too far from town, and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of that hammerhead you call a horse.”

  “He isn’t mine. He belongs to my uncle,” she corrected him.

  “I wouldn’t ride that snake-eyed snorter again, if you ask me.” Another stiffening of her shoulders told him she didn’t appreciate his warning. “Do you want to go to the stables first, or should I take you to your uncle’s house?”

  “No! Not Uncle Gideon’s house!” she exclaimed much too quickly. “The stables will be just fine. I can walk from there. It’s only less than a block.”

  The fear in her voice was tangible, setting Hunter’s jaw into stone. He would find out what had caused such terror in her if it meant giving up everything he’d ever acquired on this earth.

  Chapter 7

  Laurel was glad Hunter couldn’t see her face. He would have seen right through her, and she didn’t want to have to explain why she wasn’t looking forward to going home tonight ... or any night, for that matter.

  She was relieved when he said, “I bet you loved New York. Had a lot of fun and made plenty of friends, I suspect. That’s probably what I should have done. Gone to school and taken the test to be a lawyer like your uncle. I would have become rich drawing up people’s wills and resolving business disputes. Much easier than breaking up bar room fights. I could have then started up a bank like he did.”

  “I figured you, as well as everyone in town, knew that the original bank was in East Texas. He inherited it from my grandfather. Uncle Gideon and my mother were the only heirs, so when Grandfather Duncan died, my uncle took over the bank. Eventually, he closed that one and moved to the Panhandle. Since we lived in San Antonio, Mother was happy to let him handle the business. I presume she received her share of the profits in some form or fashion. I was too young to know anything about their affairs.”

  “So those investments paid for your education?” Hunter asked.

  She stopped and took a deep breath. It was about time to set things straight about some of the speculation she knew had been floating around for years; yet she didn’t want to expose any family skeletons.

  “Unfortunately, that isn’t how it played out. I was told that my parents had made some bad business choices and ended up losing everything right before their deaths.” She paused and forced her mind not to think about their horrific deaths. Steeling herself, she said, “As trustee of their estate, my uncle had to sell off what assets there were to pay off debtors. They took everything, leaving me a little for my education. So if it hadn’t been for Uncle Gideon and Aunt Elizabeth taking me in, I wouldn’t have had a place to live or food to eat.”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have pried into your private matters, I didn’t mean to insult you or your uncle, I’ve just never figured out how he raised the money to buy the bank here, but this explains it. He’s always been secretive about his business, and I respect a man for keeping the affairs of his family to himself.”

  “It feels strange to see him in any other profession than a lawyer because he wasn’t involved with banking until my grandfather passed, which wasn’t very long before my parents’ deaths.”

  Hunter pulled her closer to him, and she rested her head on his chest.

  Unchecked raw emotion stretched even tighter around her heart. She couldn’t control the trembling within her. A warning voice whispered in her head that she’d already told him too much. She was thankful when the conversation took another direction.

  “I guess being a lawyer and then a banker is the perfect combination. Very lucrative,” Hunter said, “or at least profitable enough to end up with several parcels of land near the river not far from where the railroad could pass through.”

  Laurel had found her bearings and realized that if the nice folks of Farley Springs knew the secrets that were buried with her parents, the only family she had would be totally ostracized by the community. She deliberately turned to more pleasant thoughts. Memories hurt too much.

  “If you’d taken the test to be a lawyer and were nearly as good at law as you say you are at gambling, you would be home planting rosebushes for your mama and holding private, high-stakes games at the ranch.” She shifted and elbowed him lightly, in a gesture of friendliness. She wasn’t the least bit surprised at how rock solid his stomach felt. Her fingers ached to touch him and her heart was hammering foolishly.

  “With Mother!” His heartfelt laugh rippled through the air. “If it’s not too bold to ask, what did you do between the time you got out of college and returned home?”

  “I was a journalist for a women’s
magazine. Lippincott’s. I wrote literary criticism, book reviews, and even a short story or two. Not much demand for that in Farley Springs, huh?”

  “You could write for the newspaper. Do you plan on sticking around here or going back East?”

  “It depends. Uncle Gideon offered me a job at the bank, so if he comes through on his promise, I’ll work there.” She probably emphasized the word if too much, but that was the way she felt. So far, he’d avoided the issue.

  In the distance, the lights of the town came in sight. Deep inside she was a little sad that their evening was drawing to a conclusion. With her riding in front of him for all those miles, leaning back against his rock-hard body, enjoying whiffs of leather and the outdoorsy smell of work, not to mention his arms holding her, he’d ignited feelings she’d kept hidden for too many years. He’d stoked a gently growing fire within her like no man had ever done.

  Although Buckey had acted up, it turned out to be a delightful ride. Frankly, she should give the dang, unruly nag an extra bucket of oats. If it hadn’t been for his misbehaving, she wouldn’t have ridden double with Hunter. She didn’t want the night to end but knew it would shortly.

  Laurel couldn’t allow something like tonight to happen again. She was already finding herself too comfortable with the rugged strong-willed, cowboy.

  With all the distractions, Hunter still hadn’t asked the question he wanted the answer to the most: Where did her allegiance lie with the town’s two projects? Toward his mother as her friend or her uncle as family?

  He wasn’t so dumb that he thought Laurel had kept him distracted by talking about an array of subjects because she thought he’d be interested in them. More that she did it to make sure he didn’t ask any questions about her visit to the Sundance or the Triple C. He had to handle his questioning gingerly because no doubt she’d see right through him. Slow and easy, he reminded himself.

  Typically, Hunter liked to think things through and know how deep the water was before jumping off the bank, but for some reason she kept him leaping into the unknown.

  Against his better judgment, he found himself just saying what was on his mind. She’d gotten into his mind and he couldn’t think straight.

  “I know Mother called you to the ranch to get your help on raising money for the library,” he said in an all-business fashion. “But considering your uncle’s wishes to make sure the railroad comes to town, I guess it put you in an awkward position.”

  She squared her shoulders and stiffened in his arms, not saying anything for a second. “It’s not awkward at all. I’m staying neutral. My uncle hasn’t mentioned the railroad.” She pulled her hand away from his leg and shifted uncomfortably.

  “Laurel, at least be honest with me. I know Mother wants your help by influencing your uncle and probably sent you to town to find out what the men had decided. You’ve always been close to the Wilson sisters, so if it wasn’t her, then it was them.”

  “I can’t believe you said that. I only saw Pearl and Ruby for the first time today. I find it offensive and you’re really making me angry.” The veins in her neck tightened. “I said I was staying neutral and made that very clear. I love Melba Ruth, but this is one time I will not take a side.” She twisted in her seat and looked him squarely in the eyes. “If you’ve ever believed anything I’ve said to you, Hunter Campbell, it should be now.”

  For some odd reason, he almost accepted her explanation, but not quite. For every question she answered, a dozen new ones surfaced.

  He leaned into her until his lips were only inches away from her ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He really didn’t like hurting her feelings and he knew he had, but there was too much at stake for him not to have asked.

  “I’m still madder than Hades at you. It’s none of your business but I’ll tell you why your mother wanted to see me.”

  Laurel turned her head farther toward him, making her cheek almost touch his lips.

  “Temper, temper, Laurel Dean,” he said. Now wasn’t that a dumb approach? he thought.

  Not too surprising, she suddenly jerked forward and looked ahead, but not before he saw the ire on her face. “She offered me employment.”

  “And you took it?”

  “No. I turned her down. Since my uncle wants me to go to work for him, I couldn’t accept her offer without consulting him first.” With a silken thread of warning in her voice, she added, “So now that you know, you can relax because I don’t give a tinker’s damn about you or your precious railroad.”

  He leaned back in the saddle and enjoyed the remaining five minutes of their ride. As they neared the stables, Buckey stood proudly outside waiting for them.

  After reining his stud to a halt, Hunter dismounted and helped her down.

  She planted her feet firmly on the ground and looked up at him with eyes that glowed with a savage inner fire. “Thank you for letting me ride with you back to town. It would’ve been a long walk otherwise.”

  “Much obliged, ma’am.” He tipped his hat. It took everything in him to resist taking her into his arms and kissing the daylights out of her.

  But the sun always rose on another day!

  Hunter watched as she took Buckey’s reins and led him into the shadows of the livery. He tied his horse to the hitching post. As much as he didn’t want to leave her, he knew the blacksmith would take care of her dumbnuts of a horse, and she’d be safe walking the short distance home.

  Stepping deeper into the shadows and farther away from the corrals, he pulled out a cheroot and settled against the railing. He kept a watch out until Laurel left the livery and continued keeping an eye on her until she opened the gate and walked up to the Duncan house.

  Once he knew she was safely home, he headed in the direction of the Coyote Bluff. Some urgent business waited for him, and he planned to take care of it tonight.

  He hoped and prayed Greta Garrett still waited for him, too.

  Chapter 8

  With a sundry of bewildering thoughts attacking her from all sides, Laurel unlatched the gate to her aunt and uncle’s massive house, which looked like it belonged on a Southern plantation. Taking two steps inside, she glanced back toward the livery.

  Once she had turned her back on Hunter and led Buckey inside the blacksmith’s shop, she hadn’t seen the gambling rancher again. All the way home, however, she kept looking back over her shoulder feeling she was being watched. Maybe she was just hoping he’d follow her and ask her to supper or something ... anything to keep her from having to go home. If one could call the cold, unwelcoming structure the Duncans lived in a home.

  Soft light filtered through the lace curtains in the study, so she knew her uncle was home and probably still up working.

  Instead of entering from the front of the house, she walked to the back and came in through the servants’ entrance. She climbed the stairs with a mixture of emotions at odds with one another. While some demanded that she stay as far away from Hunter as possible, others pled with her to run back and throw herself into his arms. He was certainly a multifaceted man who created complex emotions within her. In a very physical way, he had definitely led her to believe he enjoyed her company. Yet at the same time, he sent her another set of confusing signals.

  Her heart recognized they shared an undeniable bond, and had for a lot of years. Her conscience screamed for her to be cautious. Things were not as they seemed.

  For the most part, she felt satisfied with how the evening had gone, although it had started out rocky, to say the least. She’d told him the truth about the job offer from his mother, although she’d failed to mention anything about the pressure put upon her to lead the women’s group. Since that was a moot issue, she saw no reason to bring it up. She could have warned him about the posters, but that would be taking sides ... the one thing she was determined not to do. She couldn’t have made it any clearer to Melba Ruth and the Wilson sisters, although she wasn’t certain Pearl had gotten the point, that she refused to take any part i
n their scheme.

  Besides, she had all she could handle with her family.

  She pushed open the door to her tiny, airless room with little more than a featherbed, a highboy, and a washstand. A small rocker took up one corner, next to an aged rickety wardrobe, which held all of her belongings.

  As late as it was, she’d missed supper—not that it mattered. Maybe the cook had found it in her heart to save Laurel a plate of leftovers, and if so, she’d eat alone in a silent kitchen. She couldn’t afford to purchase another meal out. Her savings were down to very little, since her monthly allowance stopped the moment she graduated. She was fortunate to have made good grades and obtained an internship with the magazine during her final three months of school. It brought in money, although not much.

  Right now, getting a job had to be her priority. So far, every time the subject of her going to work at the bank came up, her uncle sloughed it off as being unimportant.

  The position Mrs. Campbell offered might well be her only choice, becoming more appealing by the second. She’d have a steady income, it’d be interesting, and she could find a place of her own to live, even if it meant getting a room in a boardinghouse. Ever since she’d been back, she’d been concerned for her aunt’s health, and the thought of moving out and leaving her alone left a taste in her mouth somewhere between rancid lard and sorghum syrup.

  If she took the position, she’d have regular run-ins with Hunter. Only a fool would believe she could maintain a relationship with Melba Ruth and not have to do the same with her son. Something that couldn’t be avoided and she’d have to take under careful consideration before making her decision.

  Laurel took off the silly hat she’d been wearing all day, and considered tossing it across the room just to see if she could hang it on the coat hook on her first try. What had possessed her to wear it in the first place?