Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection

by Amanda Barratt

  Her brother looked up from where he lay, propped up against his pillows just as Daddy was in his room down the hall. Calvin sent her a lopsided smile and spoke in a slurred voice. “Howdy, sis. Sorry about this.” He swept a hand at his chest, the bulky bandage around it visible through the cotton of his nightshirt.

  “I’m sorry for you. That Toro is a troublemaker.”

  “Yep.” Calvin chuckled and winced.

  Travis snapped his leather case closed. “No laughing for you for a while, Calvin. You need to heal, and that’s serious business.”

  “Whatever you say, Doc. Right now, I need … to take … a siesta.“ He closed his eyes and was asleep before Coralee and Travis reached the hallway.

  She closed Calvin’s door and accompanied Travis to the upper landing, where she asked the question that had been on her mind ever since hearing the news. “How is he?” She dreaded the answer. Calvin’s injury was serious. A ranch hand had been run over by a wagon when she was a girl, and a number of his ribs were broken. He’d died a week later.

  “The dose of laudanum I’ve given him will help ease the pain, but keeping him down won’t be easy. If he’s to heal properly, he has to stay in bed the next four weeks. You can help by seeing that he does.”

  A month? What was she to do about the ranch? Since Calvin had dismissed his foreman the year before and taken over his duties, there was no one to fill that role while her brother was laid up. “I’ll do what I can, but he’ll be champing at the bit to get back to work.”

  “Houston is going to ask Pa if he knows of someone who could fill in.”

  “That’s kind of him.” He hadn’t mentioned that when she’d talked to him outside. “Oh. In all the excitement, I almost forgot. I’d like you to take a look at Daddy. His lack of color concerns me.”

  “Certainly.” Travis followed her into her father’s room and performed a quick examination. He pulled the sheet back into place and nodded toward the door. “If you’ll see me out, I’ll tell you what I think.”

  She led the way to the entryway below, clutched the edge of the narrow console table, and braced herself for the news. “He’s failing, isn’t he?”

  “I don’t see a marked change, but it does appear his circulation has become even more sluggish. You’ve been completing the arm and leg lifts regularly, haven’t you?”

  “Yes. Morning, noon, and night, just like you said. Sally and I stretch his palms and rotate his ankles the way you showed us, too.”

  Travis glanced from Daddy’s room to Calvin’s. “I know you’ll be busy tending to your brother’s needs, as well, but if you could increase your father’s sessions to six a day, that would help to stimulate his blood flow and might result in better coloring.”

  “I’ll do whatever he needs.”

  “I’m sorry, Coralee. You’ve been doing a fine job, but it just got harder. My family will do all we can to help. You can count on that.”

  Travis meant well, but there was one Hart who wouldn’t set foot on the Culpepper ranch. Not that she wanted him to. She didn’t need Houston throwing her world out of balance any more than he already had.

  Chapter Six

  Sweat trickled down Houston’s brow. He removed it with a quick swipe of his sleeve. He’d forgotten what hard work stacking hay was. Although his work cutting firewood to sell in his hardware store out West had kept him in shape, haying used different muscles. Several of them were protesting now. At least the temperature wasn’t a problem. He’d dealt with heat in California. The humidity in south-central Texas was another story. He wasn’t accustomed to it. But he would readjust.

  He scanned the field, a testimony to his efforts. Austin hadn’t thought Houston could get the entire field to this point before Perla had lunch ready, but he’d succeeded. He’d passed his first test—with plenty more to come.

  The scent of roast beef greeted Houston as he walked into the dining room at El Regalo a short time later and took his place at the table. “Roast beef sandwiches. My favorite. You’re going to spoil me, Perla.”

  The family’s longtime cook chuckled. “Sí, Señor Houston. I will try.”

  Hays reached over Houston’s shoulder and grabbed a sandwich on his way to his chair. “When can I expect my favorite dish, Perla?”

  “Tonight. Tomorrow.” She fluttered a hand. “You have so many favorites, Señor Hays, that there is usually one at every meal.”

  Pa entered and took his place. “You boys aren’t starting before we’ve said grace, are you?”

  “No, Pa,” Houston and Hays said simultaneously.

  “That’s good. Now pass me those sandwiches. I need one.”

  Perla picked up the platter, walked to the head of the table, and put two sandwiches on Pa’s plate. “Here you go, Senõr Hart. You need mucho energy if you’re going to bark orders at your boys.” The laughter in her voice as she headed for the kitchen took away the sting of her jest.

  Houston filled his glass with milk from the nearby pitcher. “Looks like she’s still keeping you in line, Pa.”

  “Don’t think that’s possible. I’m as ornery as ever.”

  Pa was joking, of course, although he was as tough as rawhide and could be hard to please. Houston knew all about that. He’d spent the first eighteen years of his life attempting to live up to his father’s expectations.

  Several others made their way to the dining room. The meal passed with the usual jesting, laughter, and comparisons of which brother had worked hardest that morning. Houston knew better than to enter the friendly competition since he was on trial.

  Austin wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin on the table. “I took a look at the field you cut as I rode past, Houston. Nice job.”

  “Thanks.” He hadn’t expected the compliment, but he appreciated it.

  Pa leaned back in his chair and studied Houston. “But will you be able to move tomorrow, son?”

  The pressure to perform up to his father’s standards never ceased. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

  In no time, the room emptied. Houston followed his father to the large library lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that doubled as his office. “If you have a minute, I’ve got a question.”

  Pa waved him in. “Fire away.”

  Houston entered and stood in front of Pa’s massive desk. “Since Calvin Culpepper is going to be laid up for a few weeks, he’s looking for someone who could fill in as his ranch foreman. I told him I’d see if you knew of anyone. Do you?”

  Pa propped an elbow on the arm of his oversized desk chair and leaned his cheek on his fist. He rubbed his closely trimmed salt-and-pepper beard and stared at Houston for so long that he became aware of the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

  He didn’t need to be kept waiting. He had plenty of work to do. “Do you, or don’t you?”

  “I reckon I do.” Pa folded his arms across his broad chest and nodded. “Yes, sirree, I know just the man.”

  Houston’s irritation grew. “Who?”

  “You.”

  “What? You can’t be serious. I’m liable to get a backside full of buckshot if I set foot on the Culpepper ranch.”

  Pa slapped his palms on his desk. “Hogwash. Calvin asked for your help last night, didn’t he?”

  “Not exactly. I was there when Coralee got the news that her brother had been injured. Travis needed another set of hands, so I rode over, too.”

  “And Calvin threw you out? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “It, um”—Houston cleared his throat—“wasn’t Calvin. It was Coralee.”

  Pa drummed his fingers on the desktop. “I know Coralee’s got a burr under her saddle when it comes to you, but it’s high time she got over that.”

  Houston hadn’t expected his father to come to his defense.

  “You’ve got some fences to mend, too, son. Grab this opportunity by the horns and make the most of it.”

  So much for Pa taking his side. “Your plan is to send me into hostile territory?�
�

  “My plan is for you to gain some valuable experience, here as well as there.”

  Perhaps Pa’s idea had merit. Neither he nor Austin were about to hand over the reins of the 7 Heart. Houston would answer to them. At the Culpepper place, he would have freedom to do things his way for the most part.

  “I’ll consider approaching Calvin, but even if he agrees”—which was doubtful, since he’d already warned Houston to stay away from his sister—“Coralee might convince him otherwise. Supposing they go along with it, though … I have my conditions. I’ll work here in the mornings and the rest of the day at the Culpepper ranch. And I don’t want to be treated like a greenhorn when I’m here. I want to be assigned the same kinds of tasks my brothers are.”

  “I accept your terms, son. But if I’m only getting half a day’s work out of you, it had better be good, hard work.”

  “I’ve never been a shirker. That’s not about to change.” He would work harder than ever before, if it meant gaining Pa’s respect. Perhaps Coralee might even be persuaded to see him as more than a disloyal fortune seeker, too.

  The rap on the front door couldn’t have come at a worse time. Coralee juggled the stack of soiled bedding on one arm and a pail of dirty dishes over the other and made her way down the stairs with slow, careful steps. All they needed now was for her to take a tumble and be put out of commission with a twisted ankle.

  Whoever was at the door repeated the summons.

  “Hold your horses,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m coming!” she called.

  She reached the entryway, managed to turn the latch, and opened the door. “Houston!”

  The pail crashed to the floor, followed by the breaking of glass, and the armload of laundry fell at his feet.

  Concern shone in his bright blue eyes. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded.

  “What are you doing dealing with such things anyway? Why didn’t you ask Sally?”

  “She’s busy helping Daddy.”

  “Let me get them for you.” He stooped to pick up the soiled bedding and grabbed the handle of the bucket filled with broken dishes.

  “Please don’t.” She wasn’t about to let him carry the foul-smelling load.

  “Don’t what?”

  Don’t be so caring. Don’t confuse me. “Don’t feel like you have to help.”

  He shook his head. “I’m going be spending a good deal of time around here, Corrie, so you might as well get used to having my help. Now, where would you like these?” He lifted one arm and then the other.

  “Spending time here? What do you mean?”

  “Calvin asked me to find someone to help him run the ranch while he’s laid up, and I did. Me.”

  “No. You’re not…” He wasn’t at all the person she’d expected to take her brother’s place, but she had asked the Lord for a man who could handle the record keeping. That, more than anything else, seemed to be on Calvin’s mind. He’d been mumbling about his ledgers in his sleep. Since Houston had run a successful business out in California, he should be well-versed in such things. “Fine. If my brother accepts your offer, I suppose I have no choice.”

  “I appreciate the warm welcome.” His smile had a hint of merriment about it, as though he found her amusing. “I’ll just take these things to the kitchen then.” He set off.

  She hurried after him, her mind and stomach whirling at the prospect of having Houston around. How would she handle seeing him every day? Their first encounter had been hard enough. He’d looked good in his Sunday clothes, but he was even more appealing in his ranch wear. His broad shoulders and muscular arms did a fine job of filling out his work shirt. She tore her gaze away from him.

  He greeted Olive, who rushed over to relieve him of his load. “Welcome, Mr. Houston. This is a surprise. If I’d known company was coming, I’d have made something special. All I have are some snickerdoodles. You’re welcome to them.” The Culpeppers’ longtime cook, her arms filled with the laundry, leaned her head toward the plate of cookies on the table.

  “I’m actually going to be working here until Calvin is back on his feet, unless he objects, of course.”

  That wasn’t likely. Her brother’s sole concern since his run-in with Toro was the ranch.

  “So you’ll be dining here?” Olive sent Coralee a questioning look.

  The sooner she accepted the situation, the better. She needed to get back upstairs. Sally could use her help with Daddy. “Yes, he will. How many meals a day should we plan on, Houston?”

  “I’ll be here for lunch and dinner, but I’ll have breakfast at El Regalo.”

  “Very well. Olive will see that there’s plenty to eat. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll tell Calvin you’re here.”

  Houston said nothing on the way up the stairs, which suited her. She’d fielded a number of changes since yesterday and taken them in stride, but this one unsettled her. How was she to deal with having him around when he looked so handsome and was being so helpful? She couldn’t let those things sway her.

  They reached Calvin’s room. At her brother’s request, she showed Houston inside. “Close the door on your way out, will you, sis?”

  Clearly, she wasn’t to be a party to this discussion, which was just as well. The less time she spent with Houston, the better.

  She paused, listening to the rumble of male voices. Her brother’s was softer than usual, but Houston’s had a deep, rich quality. Not that she could make out what either of them was saying. That wasn’t a problem. She wasn’t one to eavesdrop. But was that her name she’d heard?

  A sound from her father’s room sent her scurrying. She hurried to his bedside.

  Sally’s back was to the door. She held one of Daddy’s arms, putting it through the exercises. “Was that Mr. Houston I heard?” Wariness creased the maid’s brow.

  “Yes. He’s going to be helping out.”

  “I see. And how do you feel about that?”

  Coralee dipped her fingers in the jar on the table and slathered some cream on Daddy’s arm, rubbing it in. She inhaled the soothing scent. “I’m grateful to him, of course, but I’m not happy about the situation.”

  “If that boy hurts you again…”

  “I won’t let that happen. I’m older now. And stronger. I know better than to trust him.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. It about broke my heart to see you crying your eyes out after he left.”

  The door to Calvin’s room opened. Houston’s footfalls heralded his approach. He stopped when he reached Daddy’s room. “May I have a minute, Coralee?”

  She sighed. “You might as well come in. Sally is like family, so say what you have to say.”

  He stepped inside. “Calvin has accepted my offer. I’ll be starting immediately. My plan is to work at the 7 Heart every morning and arrive here in time for lunch. I’ll spend the rest of each day here, dividing my time between working outdoors and seeing to the books.”

  “Very well. Let me know what you need. Sally, Olive, and I will see to it that you get it.”

  “Other than the meals, nothing. I can bed down in the bunkhouse and return to the 7 Heart at sunup.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Sally’s eyebrows shot toward the abundance of gray curls peeking from beneath the bright red bandana attempting to corral them.

  Coralee forged ahead despite Sally’s shock. “There’s a small bedroom downstairs that’s unoccupied. You may use it.”

  “I appreciate that. I’ll get to work, then. Unless you need anything first, that is.”

  Why must he be so helpful? “I’m fine.”

  “Very well.” He nodded cordially and left.

  As soon as the front door had clicked shut, Sally spoke up. “Do you reckon having him stay here in the house is wise? You’re more likely to run into him that way.”

  “I can’t exactly ignore him.” Although she would avoid him as much as possible. “We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

&nbs
p; She would have to guard her heart, as well, because Houston was proving to be as kind and caring as ever, two of the things she’d loved about him. She’d just have to remember that he’d failed to take her needs into consideration the day he’d walked out of her life.

  Chapter Seven

  The fragrant scents wafting from the display of Meribeth’s homemade soaps in Mortenson’s Mercantile drew Coralee like a bee to a flower. She’d come to get some items Olive needed, not to get anything for herself, but she couldn’t resist sniffing the various bars. She picked up one with a purple ribbon around it and a big floppy bow. Mmm. Lavender. After caring for both Calvin and Daddy the past week plus doing her best to avoid Houston, she deserved a treat. She put the bar in the wicker shopping basket.

  “Coralee. I thought that was you.” Meribeth waddled along behind the glass front cases, stopping when she reached the artful arrangement of her handiwork. She rested a hand on her rounded belly. “I’m sorry to hear about Calvin. How is he doing?”

  “Being laid up is testing his patience—and mine. He’s so fidgety you’d think there was a scorpion in his bedsheets. Having Houston filling in for him has helped some. Calvin feels like things are under control.”

  “I can’t believe it! Houston is working for your brother? Why? Calvin knows what Houston did to you, and he was none too happy about it.”

  Coralee grabbed another soap bar, brought it to her nose, and took a whiff. “This one’s soothing. What’s in it?”

  “Chamomile and calendula petals. I answered your question. How about answering mine? Why would Calvin hire Houston, of all people? And what’s more, why would Houston want to work for him? He has to know what Calvin thinks of him.”

  She’d done her best to change the subject, but Meribeth was known for her persistence. “I’m not sure. All I know is that the two of them have been spending an hour or so every evening holed up in Calvin’s room. They seem to be focused on his ledgers. My guess is that since my brother’s not as good with figures as you are, he’s asked Houston for some pointers. That makes sense. His business out in California has been quite successful, from what I hear.”