Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection

by Amanda Barratt

  Coralee had never been this prickly before. “I’m sure he is. I was just being neighborly.“

  “Shh.” She cast a glance at the growing crowd of onlookers. “People are watching.”

  It had taken her that long to notice? “I’m aware of that. If you’ll do as I asked, we can satisfy their curiosity about where things stand between us. They’ll go on about their business, and we can go on about ours—separately.”

  “They think we’re together?”

  “I’m sure they’re wondering. But we can let them know otherwise. So, how about it? Shall we share a neighborly dance before you storm off?”

  Indignation straightened her spine. She spoke in a heated whisper. “I was not storming off. I’d done my duty.”

  “I’m sorry if attending my welcome-back barbecue was such an onerous task.”

  “It wasn’t. The party actually gave me an opportunity to visit with a number of folks and discuss plans for the Christmas Eve Ball.” She paused, her eyes wide. “Oh. I hadn’t thought about how difficult it must have been to come home after your loss. My condolences. Your mother was a sweet woman. She was also quite talented. The other members of the committee and I have done our best to host balls on par with those she organized.”

  Coralee might want nothing to do with him, but her consideration of others was bone-deep. “It’s different not having her here, but Pa seems to be doing all right.”

  A flicker of pain clouded her dark brown eyes, but it passed quickly. She gave a single, decisive nod. “One dance, Houston, and then we’ll part as … friends.” The way she’d uttered the word with her mouth tense and her voice firm said she considered them anything but.

  “Very well. After you.” He held out a hand toward the dance floor.

  They reached the edge of the wooden surface that had been laid out and waited for the dance in progress to end. She stood next to him but left several inches between them. With her arms folded and her upper body angled away from him, anyone looking their way would have no trouble figuring out that she wasn’t enjoying his company.

  Her stance gave him the opportunity to study her without her knowledge. She’d been sixteen when he left and prettier than any girl he’d ever set eyes on. Now a woman, she was more beautiful than he could have imagined. But she’d changed. Instead of the free spirit with whom he’d spent many fun-filled hours, she seemed subdued. She wasn’t any happier to see him than he was her, but there was more to it. Her zest for life wasn’t there anymore. What had happened to rob her of the joy that used to bubble over?

  The final notes of the lively number faded, and the couples left the floor, laughing and smiling. Coralee dropped her arms to her sides. Her shoulders rose and fell as she drew in a deep breath and released it. If he’d known how much she dreaded dancing with him, he might have reconsidered asking her. But they were committed now.

  Mrs. Brown let go of her husband’s hand and approached Coralee. She leaned close, glanced at Houston, and directed her attention to Coralee. “Are you all right?”

  Coralee produced a halfhearted smile. “Yes, Patty, thank you.”

  “If you need anything, let me know.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  He hadn’t spent much time around women, but it wasn’t hard to see that Coralee’s friend was concerned about her. Perhaps people weren’t wondering whether he and Coralee were a couple as much as why she would consider taking up with him again. Some of the looks being sent his way weren’t the friendliest. Did the distrust of him run deeper than he’d thought? The musicians readied their instruments, sparing him the need to ponder the question.

  “Shall we?” He offered his arm to Coralee. She stared at it a moment, wheeled around, and made her way onto the dance floor, leaving him to follow. This was going to be the longest dance of his life.

  They joined the others forming a line for a reel.

  “Not so fast,” the head musician hollered with a laugh in his voice. “Thought we’d play a waltz for y’all this time so you can get cozy with your partners.”

  A waltz? Houston stifled a groan. In years past he would have welcomed the news, but Coralee had enjoyed being in his arms then. She stood as stiff as a branding iron now.

  She closed the distance between them, faced him, and looked into his eyes. Even in the fading light, he could see the challenge hers held. The message was clear. If he pulled her too close, he was likely to feel the heel of her boot come down on the top of his.

  The music began. He placed his right hand below her shoulder blade and cupped her right hand in his left. She rested her free hand on his biceps, if you could call it resting. It felt more like hovering. Her touch was so light he could barely feel it. She held her head high and jerked it to the side so he could only see her profile.

  “Relax, Corrie.”

  “Please, don’t call me that again. You lost that right years ago.”

  “Fine, Coralee. If that’s what you want. Or is it Miss Culpepper now?” He led her into the swirl of couples circling the floor, waiting for a response.

  He’d almost given up hope of receiving one when she spoke. “Thanks to you, it’s still Miss Culpepper, but I suppose you may call me Coralee. All my friends do.”

  “Thanks to me? What do you mean? You’re the one who turned me down!”

  “Yes. I did. And you left. But you’re back now. At least for a time.”

  He changed direction to avoid a collision with another couple. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I know about your hardware store out West. You didn’t give it up, did you?”

  “My partner’s running it.”

  “You don’t intend to stay, do you? I suppose that’s to be expected. After all, you don’t really want to be here, do you?”

  “I’ve been away a long time and done a lot of thinking. This is where I belong, working alongside my brothers.”

  She frowned, drawing her delicately arched eyebrows together. “But you were so eager to leave.”

  Not really. He’d felt forced into his decision by circumstances he was unable to change. “I enjoyed my time out West, but I learned a valuable lesson. You can take a man out of Texas, but you can’t take Texas out of the man.”

  Skepticism pinched her fine features. “So you expect us to believe you’re a Texan at heart after all? The Texans I know didn’t run off to California to strike it rich. Some of them left, yes, like your brothers, but they went to fight for our rights.”

  It appeared Coralee didn’t trust him, either. He had more to prove than he’d thought. He could prove his loyalty, if he was willing to make his private affairs known, which he wasn’t. What he’d done was between him, the Lord, and the precious few whose assistance he’d required. “I have great respect for those who served and sympathy for those who lost loved ones.”

  “Miss Culpepper!” A ranch hand shoved his way through the crowd.

  She tore herself away from Houston and slipped between the dancers, not stopping until she reached the winded man. Houston was on her heels. “What is it, Gene?”

  “It’s your brother. Calvin tangled with that sick bull and got tossed. Do you know where the doc is? We’re gonna need him.”

  She gripped the fellow’s arm. “How bad is it?”

  “He thinks some ribs might be broke.”

  “I’ll get Travis, and we’ll hightail it over there.” Houston started for the table where he’d last seen his brother.

  “No!” Coralee jumped in front of him. “We don’t need your help.”

  “With all due respect, Miss Culpepper”—Gene stepped into her line of vision—“it’ll take two men to get him upstairs. I was the only hand still at the ranch. The rest are here. I’d go back, but I rode hard, and my horse is spent. I’d need to borrow one.”

  “I see. Um, thank you. Could you get my buggy ready?” She turned to Houston. “I was wrong. Please. Go. Quickly.”

  He took off.

  Chapter Five

 
Because Travis had to run inside to get his doctor bag, Houston reached the Culpepper ranch before his brother.

  Houston rounded the far corner of the barn moments later and spied Calvin sitting against the back wall, a few feet from the bull’s pen. He sprinted over to the muscular rancher, who clutched his midsection and grimaced.

  Houston crouched beside the injured man.

  “What are you doing here? Gene was supposed to get your brother.”

  “Travis is right behind me. He’ll be here soon. What happened?”

  Slowly, cautiously, Calvin inclined his head toward the huge longhorn nearby. “Turns out Toro has a temper. I’ve been doing my best to help him, but the ornery fellow slammed me into a fence post. I managed to crawl out of the pen, but when I tried to stand, I nearly passed out. I think the brute busted my ribs.”

  “And you’ve been sitting here all this time?”

  “Since I sent Gene to get help, that only left Sally and Olive. I couldn’t ask two older women to drag me upstairs.” Calvin scanned the area behind Houston. “Where’s Coralee?”

  “She was with me when Gene showed up. He was going to get her buggy for her. She’ll be along soon.”

  Calvin scowled. “What was she doing with you?”

  “Dancing.”

  “I warned her to steer clear of you. Apparently, she didn’t listen, so I’ll make sure you know exactly what I mean. Stay away from my sister, Houston. She’s suffered more than enough on your account.”

  Coralee had suffered? That didn’t make sense. She was the one who’d rejected him.

  Hoofbeats pounded the ground, coming to a stop several feet away. Travis slid from the saddle, whipped his reins around a fence post, and rushed over to them, black bag in hand.

  Calvin attempted a smile, but it faded quickly. “Howdy, Doc. I didn’t mean to drag you and the guest of honor away from the shindig, but I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Let’s see what’s going on, shall we?” Travis had Calvin lie on his back. “I’ll start by having you take some deep breaths while I check for grating, which would indicate broken bones. Go ahead and breathe as deeply as you can.”

  Calvin’s chest rose and fell, the effort causing him to wince. Travis moved the bell-shaped end of his stethoscope over the area, listening intently. Before long, he removed the earpieces.

  Houston’s curiosity got the best of him. “Did you hear anything?”

  “Nothing definitive.” Travis shifted his attention to Calvin. “I’m going to press on each of your ribs in turn. Tell me if my probing causes you any pain or tenderness.”

  “You mean more pain than I’m already experiencing, right?” Calvin attempted a laugh, but the movement of his rib cage transformed the sound into a strangled gasp.

  “Exactly.” Travis set to work, moving his hands methodically over Calvin’s chest.

  Perspiration beaded on Calvin’s forehead. Just when Houston thought all was well, Calvin yelped. “In case you didn’t notice, that spot’s sore, Doc.”

  Houston smiled at Calvin’s humorous response, but Travis kept a straight face. “I suspected as much.”

  The examination concluded moments later, following two more muffled cries from Calvin as Travis completed his examination. He straightened and stood with his arms folded, looking down at Calvin, who had returned to a sitting position. “Your diagnosis is correct. From what I can tell, three of your ribs are broken.”

  “That’s not too bad, is it, Doc? I’ll be up and around again in no time, right?”

  Travis shook his head. “What you’re experiencing is a serious injury. You’ll need to be on bed rest for a good four weeks or more.”

  “No! I can’t do that. I’ve got a ranch to run.”

  “I understand, but you’ll have to find someone to take your place. Right now, Houston and I are going to help you up to your room. Once we have you settled, I’ll wrap a band around your chest to help keep the ribs immobilized. I’ll get his left side, Huey. You take his right.”

  With Sally’s help opening doors and pulling down the covers, Houston and Travis got Calvin upstairs and into his bed. The weary man closed his eyes.

  “I should probably get back since it’s my party,” Houston said to Travis, “unless you need anything else, that is.”

  Calvin’s eyes popped open. “I don’t want to worry Coralee. She has enough to do as it is. If you could find a ranch manager to oversee things here while I’m laid up so she doesn’t feel obligated to step in, I’d be grateful.”

  Calvin’s concern for his sister spoke well of him, even if that included warning Houston to stay away from her. “Travis might be the better one to ask. I’ve only been here a couple of days.”

  His brother pulled a roll of white cotton from his leather bag. “No one comes to mind.”

  “In that case, I’ll ask Pa. He or one of our brothers is sure to know of someone.” Houston wished Calvin well and left.

  A moaning sound coming from the bedroom two doors down stopped Houston. He peered inside. An elderly man occupied the bed. He slipped a bony arm from under the sheet and motioned to Houston.

  “Did you want something?”

  The man didn’t respond, not in words anyhow. He just waved and grunted.

  Houston stepped into the room, which smelled of honey and almonds. A quick survey of the items on the bedside table revealed the source—a jar filled with some kind of cream.

  He reached the bed, and his breath left him in a whoosh. The wizened man must be Coralee’s father. Once a robust rancher like Pa, Beauregard Culpepper was a shadow of his former self. “It’s me, Houston Hart.”

  There was no sign of recognition in Mr. Culpepper’s eyes. He tapped his fingers against his lips.

  “Are you thirsty?” Houston lifted Mr. Culpepper’s head with one hand, picked up a glass of water with the other, and pressed it to his lips, tipping it until a trickle of liquid flowed into his mouth. He swallowed. Houston repeated the motion five times, stopping when the water dribbled down the older man’s chin. Houston set the glass on the table, eased Mr. Culpepper back into his pillows, and dabbed at his wet front with a cloth.

  A gasp from the doorway caught Houston’s attention. Coralee stepped into the room, her mouth agape. She staggered backward until she bumped into the door frame, clutched it for support, and stared at Houston with eyes as big and round as barrel rings. “Wh–what are you doing in here?”

  “I— The door was open. Your father called to me as I went by. I figured out he was thirsty. He drank several sips of water.”

  “You shouldn’t be here. Get out!” She jabbed a finger at the hallway.

  He crossed the room, faced her, and fought the urge to pull her in his arms and offer what comfort he could. She’d obviously been dealing with her father’s decline for a long time. “Corrie, I mean Coralee, I was only trying to help.”

  “I don’t want your help, Houston. I want you to leave. Now.”

  He stared at her, trying desperately to make sense of her outburst. Questions bombarded him. He asked the first one that came to mind. “What happened to him?”

  She drew in a series of shallow breaths and held up her hands below her chin, palms forward as though shielding herself from him. “Please, just go.”

  “Fine. If that’s what you want. I’ll go, since Travis is still here to take care of things. Or are you going to send him packing, too?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer but turned on his heel and descended the stairs two at time. The sooner he got away from Coralee, the better.

  Houston knew.

  Coralee fought to regain her balance, but the floor still seemed to be moving. For years, she’d protected Daddy’s privacy. He’d had two requests when he realized his memory was slipping away—that she and Calvin care for him at home and that they keep the truth confined to as few people as possible. Although they couldn’t hide the fact that he was ill, since he’d ceased appearing in public years ago, he preferred having people sp
eculate about consumption and other possible diseases rather than believing him to be mad. Which he wasn’t.

  When Gene had found her at the barbecue and delivered the news of Calvin’s accident, her only thought had been about getting her brother the help he needed. It wasn’t until she’d raced up the stairs and heard a man’s voice in Daddy’s room that she realized Houston was inside. In the rush to care for Calvin, Sally must have forgotten to close Daddy’s door.

  Seeing Houston giving her father a drink wasn’t as shocking as the way he’d spoken to Daddy. Houston had been kind and compassionate, treating Daddy with the respect he deserved.

  And what had she done? Sent Houston away.

  She dashed down the stairs and out the door, not stopping until she was a few steps behind him. “Houston! Please. Wait.”

  He stopped, but he didn’t turn around, nor did he say anything. Not that she could blame him. For all he knew, she was going to hurl even more harsh words at him.

  She stepped in front of him. His features were set, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I appreciate you coming to help Travis with Calvin. And about the other. I, um…” Words failed her. How could she express what she was feeling when she couldn’t begin to sort out the tangled mess of her emotions? “Thank you.”

  He opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but clamped it shut. His gaze bounced around. After several excruciating seconds, he looked her in the eye. “I’m not as coldhearted as you seem to think, Coralee. Your brother and your father needed help, so I helped them, but my job here is done. I won’t darken your doorstep again.”

  She couldn’t let him leave. Not yet. He had to understand. “About Daddy. Very few people know.”

  “You think I’m going to flap my jaw about what I’ve seen, don’t you?” He scoffed. “I thought you knew me better than that, but clearly I was mistaken. Good day, Miss Culpepper.” He didn’t wait for a reply but strode off, mounted his horse in one graceful movement, and headed for the 7 Heart.

  She watched as Houston put distance between them. The chasm was wider than ever. Why that troubled her, she didn’t know, but it did. He’d accused her of not knowing him. Perhaps she didn’t, not as well as she’d thought anyhow. She didn’t have time to ponder that. Her family needed her. She headed back inside, dragged herself up the stairs, and entered Calvin’s room.