A stab of guilt that he was deceiving his father and brothers about the nature of his marriage hit Bowie, but he quashed it. They’d be more horrified if they knew the truth. The details of his marriage were his business anyway.
Elise took her seat between Bowie and Houston as if it had always been hers, and Bowie pulled out his chair beside her. Everyone joined hands, and Pa led them in saying grace. During the meal, Elise took every opportunity to touch him, leaning close, putting her hand on his thigh, smiling at him. It set his heart to racing. He tried to act like it was no big deal, but he didn’t miss the grins of his brothers. Austin watched him particularly closely.
Putting her hand on Bowie’s arm, Elise leaned in. “I met a handsome young man just before church today. He said he was a friend of yours.”
Bowie stilled and waited for her to continue. What young buck was chatting with his wife when he wasn’t around? A cowhand from one of the ranches? Some townie? His hands fisted on his knees.
“His name is David Longley.”
Bowie glanced down the table at Emma, David’s big sister, feeling sheepish.
“He told me he is twelve, and he seems to think you are ten feet tall and can walk on water. I gather he’s visited El Regalo before? He wants to be just like you when he grows up, and have lots of dogs and horses and carry a rifle everywhere. He even said he would find himself a pretty wife someday, just like you.” Elise squeezed his arm, a saucy grin curving her pink lips.
Bowie didn’t know what to think as a ripple of laughter went around the table. Usually the town kids ran away when they saw him coming. No kid had ever said they wanted to be like him before. “He should aim a little higher than to want to be like me.”
Elise took his hand, nestling hers into his palm, a serious light in her eyes. “Nonsense. I think he couldn’t do any better than to aim to be like you. I told him all about Clara’s new litter, and he can’t wait to come out and see them. He pestered me to promise he could have one of the pups when they were weaned, but I told him he’d have to talk to you. I don’t know how many are already spoken for.”
She went on to tell his family about the puppies’ birth, and she made him out to be the hero of her story. He hardly recognized himself. Evidently he was patient and gentle and smart. And he wasn’t sure how handsome entered into the whelping of pups, but she threw in handsome, too.
What was she up to?
His brothers grinned, and his sisters-in-law beamed. Then it dawned on him that Elise was merely fulfilling her part of the bargain, pretending theirs was a normal marriage. She was acting like his brothers’ wives did around their husbands, in spite of the fact that none of it was true. A little of the shine went off the day.
After everyone returned to the parlor, Elise allowed herself to be drawn into the circle of her sisters-in-law. The talk seemed to center around babies. Emma was nearing her time, about six weeks away, and Coralee was due sometime in the spring. Bowie wasn’t sure who was most proud, Hays, Houston, or Pa. They all went around with their chests puffed out like they invented babies.
Elise sat in a winged-back chair, listening to Annie assure both Emma and Coralee that she would be with them through their deliveries, and she would even bring Travis along to help. Though the girls laughed, Elise studied her hands in her lap, her expression sad and wistful.
A sharp jolt hit Bowie’s gut. Because of their sham marriage, he had condemned Elise to never knowing what it was like to be a mother, never to hold her child in her arms.
Hays stood behind his wife’s chair, his hand on her shoulder, and she reached up, clasping it. They shared a look, and Emma’s other hand went to her rounded belly.
What would it be like if it was Elise having a baby … his baby? Bowie rubbed his palms on his thighs. He hadn’t considered becoming a father, not since he awoke in the Fort Slocum hospital mangled and broken. But, surely a child raised with him from birth would grow accustomed to his scars and eye patch and not be terrified of him like most town kids were?
Of course, that would mean having a real marriage, something he had promised Elise he would never demand. He would never inflict his ugly self on any woman, much less one as beautiful and perfect as Elise. There was no chance he would ever be a father, none at all, and he should stop thinking such ridiculous things.
The riding lesson drove Bowie crazy. And all because Elise was so sweet and earnest.
“This is Sugar. At least that’s what Calvin said he named her. You can change it if you want. I doubt it will matter to the horse.” Bowie carried his mother’s sidesaddle and bridle to the corral where he’d left the horses. His own horse, a brown gelding the cowhands had named Burlap for his raspy personality, trotted over and snorted, shaking his head and making his mane flop. Bowie liked the rangy horse, who wasn’t much to look at but who was smart and tireless and had forgotten more about cow work than most cowboys would ever know.
The mare sniffed Elise’s hand and lowered her head for a pat on the neck. “She’s lovely. Sugar is the perfect name.”
Bowie entered the corral, pushing Burlap out of the way. “Wait your turn.” He smoothed the saddle blanket on Sugar’s back and placed the saddle atop it. “Calvin said she hadn’t been ridden in a while, so I had Gage knock some of the dust off her yesterday. I would’ve done it myself, but she’s not up to my weight.”
He tightened the girth in stages. Sugar flicked her tail, but submitted to the bridle.
“She’s so pretty. I love her long lashes.” Elise turned into the breeze, brushing a stray strand of hair off her cheek. She wore a dark green riding habit, an outfit that Bowie hadn’t seen before, and he admired the way it hugged her curves, flaring just right over her hips, reminding him once again what a beautiful woman he’d married. She must’ve brought the outfit with her to change into. Smart.
Sunlight glinted on her hair, pink rode her cheekbones, and she wore an expectant expression, as if setting out on some great adventure. How had she survived so unspoiled after so many years under her domineering uncle?
He made quick work of saddling Burlap and tied him to the corral fence.
“What do I do?” She tugged on a pair of brown, leather gloves.
“Come here.” He showed her how to gather the reins, and then put his hands on her waist. “Ready?”
She nodded, and he lifted her easily into the saddle. “Put your left foot in the stirrup, and your right knee goes here, on the pommel.”
Sugar stood rock still. Bowie grasped the reins near the bit. “I’ll lead her around a little so you can get the feel of her. All right?”
Elise nodded.
“It’s okay to grab some of her mane if you want. She won’t mind.” He led the mare in a slow circle. “Try to feel the rhythm of her movement. Relax and sway with her.”
“It feels so odd. I’ve never been on a horse before.”
Bowie tried to imagine what that was like, but he couldn’t. Pa had taught him to ride almost as soon as he could walk, and he didn’t remember a time when he didn’t know how. He glanced over his shoulder at her. She was concentrating, her body moving with the horse. After two rounds of the corral, he let go of the reins and stepped back. “Lift your reins, cluck your tongue, and press your heel into her side a bit.”
Sugar responded beautifully, but it was Elise’s smile that shook Bowie. Pure happiness. As she directed the mare in a circle around the pen, she beamed. “I’m doing it.”
Bowie went to his horse and swung aboard. “You ready to try it outside the corral?”
“As long as you’re with me, I’ll try anything.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, and the warmth in her look sent sparks across his skin. “Let’s go home.”
The trip took much longer than it would’ve taken Bowie alone, because he refused to let her go faster than a trot. “You’re not ready to ride for the Pony Express yet. When you’ve mastered a walk and a trot and you can get your mount to go where you want to when
you want to, then you can canter.”
She made a face at him. “Then you’d better clear your schedule and make time for more lessons. I want to be able to ride out with you and go to town if I want to and visit your family, and I don’t want it to take all day to get there.”
“I didn’t realize how determined you were. At this rate, you’ll be riding like a Comanche in no time.”
Their house finally came into view, and Bowie was a bit sorry. He wasn’t ready for the lesson to end.
Gage stepped out of the barn, wiping his hands on a rag. “Evening, Boss, ma’am.”
“Take Mrs. Hart’s horse, Gage. Brush her down and turn her out in the small corral.”
“Will do.” He reached for the reins to hold the mare so Elise could dismount.
“Wait.” Bowie nudged Burlap next to Sugar and reached for his wife, plucking her from the saddle and seating her sideways in front of him. She responded as he hoped she would, giving a small shriek and putting her arms around him.
“What are you doing?”
He grinned as the smell of jasmine drifted toward him, and she nestled against him. “You said you wanted to go fast. Hold on.” He wheeled Burlap and legged him into a canter. Bowie held Elise firmly about the waist, anchoring her safely, moving in rhythm with Burlap’s stride, pleased when she caught the cadence, too.
Her laughter filled the evening air, and instead of clutching him in fear, she twisted to face forward in his embrace, holding her arms wide as if trying to catch the wind. Her hair slipped from its pins and blew against his chest and face, tangling with his own as they raced across the Texas prairie into the setting sun.
She trusted him completely not to let her fall. Dead humbling. He couldn’t keep himself from smiling, almost laughing at her joy.
At last Bowie turned his horse in a wide circle, heading back toward the barn. When they reached the corral, he pulled to a stop, dropping from the saddle and reaching up for her.
When he would’ve set her down, she clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her feet dangling off the ground, her body tight against his. “Thank you.” She stared into his eye. “I’ve never felt so wonderful as racing across our land with you.”
She’d never looked so wonderful either. Her hair tumbled down her back in a riot of chocolatey curls, and the wind had colored her cheeks. This close he could see the golden flecks in her brown eyes. For a moment, he forgot that theirs was a marriage on paper, that he was scarred, that she was too good for him. He slowly lowered her to the ground, but instead of stepping away, he kissed her.
His fingers tunneled in her hair, and his lips sought hers. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she cupped his face in her hands. She tasted of wind and sunshine, and she smelled of jasmine. He couldn’t seem to gather her close enough. As he slanted his head to deepen the kiss, her fingers caught in the strap of his eye patch, dislodging it.
With a start, he remembered where he was—who he was—what he was, and he broke the kiss, all but shoving her away, making sure the patch covered his eye socket properly. Gulping, he tried to ignore the shocked look on her face.
“I’ll put the horses away. You go on to the house.” He grabbed Burlap’s reins and stalked to the barn, calling himself all kinds of a fool. He’d taken advantage of her generous nature, and all because of some ridiculous notion that he was a whole man.
Chapter Six
I don’t know what you’re so worried about. It’s your family, and it is high time you had them over to your home. Thanksgiving dinner seemed to be the perfect time.”
Bowie stepped back as Elise brushed past him, checking the place settings at the new dining room table. For the past two weeks, she’d pretended that nothing had happened, that he hadn’t overstepped his bounds by more than a country mile, and he’d been walking on eggshells ever since. Why didn’t she scold him and get it over with? Why hadn’t she slapped his face when he took such liberties? It wasn’t as if he could claim he was acting out a part in front of his family. There hadn’t been another Hart for miles.
“I’m not worried. I just don’t know why we have to have them all at once.” He placed his rifle in the gun cabinet in the corner of the room.
Elise paused, her eyebrows raised, her face the picture of innocence. “I did it for you. I thought you’d rather have it all done in one evening instead of stringing out the invitations to the couples over a whole month.” She returned to straightening silver and crystal. “I put a clean shirt on your bed.”
He took her hint and tromped up the stairs, grouchy as a spring bear. The fact that she was right irked him. He would rather get all the entertaining done at once, though he wished he didn’t have to do it at all. It was time spent with his happily-married brothers and their wives that reminded him the most about what was lacking in his own life.
The new furniture that Elise had ordered had arrived, three big wagons full. He and Gage had spent a whole day moving settees and bedsteads and bureaus a few inches here, a few inches there, all under Elise’s direction. Bowie had to admit, she’d chosen well. His only complaint was the small beds she’d ordered for the guest rooms. They were more like children’s beds.
Of course, the bed in her room seemed to cover half of Texas. He shrugged out of his work shirt and washed up. In the new beveled glass mirror over the washstand, he studied his face. Nothing had changed. His patchy beard blended with his blackened scars, and his eye patch covered the worst of the travesty. He shook his head at the shaving cup, strop, and razor Elise had put beside the pitcher and bowel. So she thought he had a nice jawline? The last time he’d had a shave, Elise had done it in the hospital. With his scarred mug, he’d rather appear in his long johns in church than show up anywhere with a naked face for people to gawk at.
The sound of horses and buggies came from the front yard, and he stopped mooning in the mirror, shrugging into the crisp white shirt Elise had left on the bed. She’d also laid out a dark suit coat and tie, but he left those behind. It wasn’t like the governor was coming tonight. Just his family.
Dinner was a success by all accounts. Bowie felt odd to sit at the head of the table, and Elise was much too far away at the foot, close to the kitchen where she could oversee the serving of the meal. She looked stunning in a dark blue gown with black, glittering beads scattered over it. He was aware of her every movement, her every look. Candlelight glinted off her hair and made her eyes luminous, and something in his chest tightened every time he looked at her.
Pa nudged him with his knee. “You did well for yourself, son. I still can’t believe all you boys did it. Seven weddings in a year … better yet, seven fine marriages that, God willing, will see you all into a happy old age.”
Bowie stabbed a forkful of turkey off his plate and said nothing. His brothers talked about plans for next spring’s roundup, how far down they should cull the herd, and whether or not to import some English blooded bulls to improve the stock on the 7 Heart, while the girls complimented Elise on the house, the furnishings, the wallpaper, just about everything. The meal was perfect, the house was perfect, her dress was perfect.
The only imperfect thing in her life was him.
Somehow he managed to get through the meal, but then they all moved into the parlor. Pa took a seat in the chair Bowie had occupied every evening for the past week, the one opposite Elise’s, the one where he pretended to read the paper every night while he watched her knit or sew or read a book.
Austin brought in one of the dining chairs, since the parlor didn’t boast seating for sixteen. “I ran into David Longley in town yesterday. He’s hot after one of Clara’s pups. I thought I’d never seen a kid so keen about getting a dog, until I remembered how you were at his age. All you thought about were horses and dogs.” He sat and rested his ankle on his opposite knee. “Guess you have more on your mind now.” He nodded in Elise’s direction. “All I thought about once upon a time was running this ranch and keeping you boys out of trouble, but now that I have Re
bekah, my priorities have changed a bit. I guess marriage has a way of doing that to a man.”
Bowie glared at his older brother. Why did he want to talk about marriage? Austin never said anything without a purpose behind it, so just what was he after?
Bowie steered the conversation onto safer ground. “The pups are growing fast. Their eyes are open, and they’re fat as butter. They’ll be ready to wean around Christmastime. Maybe, if you see the Longleys, you can let them know that if they want to give one as a Christmas present for David, there’ll be one available. I already talked to Travis, and I’ll bring one over to El Regalo on Christmas morning for Robbie.” He kept his voice low so his new nephew wouldn’t overhear. “I’ll keep the rest for a while, see if I can spot a good cow dog or two to train.”
Pa stretched out his boots to the fireplace and laced his hands across his stomach. In minutes he was asleep. Elise rose and took a knitted blanket off the arm of her chair and spread it over him, smiling softly. Bowie shook his head, tamping down the homey feelings in his chest. When he was a younger man, especially during the War, before he was injured, he’d imagined evenings like this, where he had a wife to make a home for him, a place for his family to gather. Elise had done that, creating an inviting home, showing hospitality to his family. It was almost picture-perfect. Almost.
Talk turned to the upcoming Hartville Christmas Eve Ball, an annual event held at the Hartville Hotel. Folks from as far away as San Antonio came for the party, filling the town, celebrating the season. Bowie’s mother had begun the tradition years ago, using the proceeds from the event to fund various charitable functions in and around Hartville. This year, the funds would go toward the Confederate Widows and Orphans Fund, with Miss Spanner overseeing the decorations and details as only she could.
“I don’t think I’ll be doing any dancing.” Emma shifted in her chair, pressing her hand to her lower back. “I might be home with a newborn by that time. But just in case, I ordered a new dress from Miss Spanner’s.”
Seven Brides for Seven Texans Romance Collection Page 54