Broc sputtered with laughter but sobered quickly. “Your family doesn’t owe Mrs. Sibley one cent,” he said to Amanda, “but Corby Wilson owes her seven hundred dollars.”
“Corby? Why does he owe her money?”
“It’s not clear from this document, but my guess is that your father didn’t have the cash to pay for the bull, and Corby didn’t have the cash to pay for his share of the saloon, so Corby assumed the debt for the bull in exchange for your father’s share in the saloon. Did Corby pay you directly?” Broc asked Mrs. Sibley.
“No. The payments were sent to the bank. The bank president would tell me when a deposit had been made.”
“Do you know how it was made?”
“It was always cash.”
Amanda didn’t know much about banking, but she could figure out that neither the bank president nor Mrs. Sibley had any way of knowing who’d actually made the payments. They only knew if money had been deposited. “If Corby’s name is on the document, we have nothing to worry about,” Amanda said.
“But Corby’s name isn’t on this paper,” Broc said. “It simply states that twenty-four payments of fifty dollars will be made—one each month for two years—by an agent appointed to make the payments on Aaron Liscomb’s behalf. The bank president in Cactus Bend said he had no knowledge of this transaction. The only possible explanation is that Corby was to make the payments. Did the bank president say your father had made any significant deposit two years ago?”
“No. He said my father didn’t trust banks.”
“Unless you have some other explanation, that leaves Corby.”
Amanda was so stunned, she could hardly think. Corby had said many times that he owed every bit of his success to her father, that he wouldn’t be where he was today without Aaron Liscomb. How could he possibly renege on a promise he’d made to his former partner? How could he have done this when he professed to love her, had asked her to marry him, promised to take care of all the problems on the Lazy T? Would he have forced her family to sell the ranch? Would he have forced all of them to work in the saloon or diner?
It shocked her to realize that at one time she’d considered marrying Corby, might still have done so if Broc hadn’t come along.
“Unfortunately, there’s nothing in the document that proves Corby assumed the debt,” Broc said. “Without that, I don’t know that we’re any better off than we were before.”
“Yes, we are,” Amanda declared, a fire burning in her belly. “When I get through with Corby Wilson,” she said to Ella, “he’ll be glad to pay every cent he owes you.”
“What do you propose to do?” Ella asked.
“I’m going to confront him with what he’s done, and tell him he has to pay you what he owes.”
“You have no proof,” Ella reminded her.
“There couldn’t be anybody else. Everybody will know that.”
“It’s not a matter of what everybody knows,” Ella said. “It’s what you can prove. And if your friend has read the document correctly, you can’t prove anything.”
Amanda turned to Broc, hoping he had some brilliant plan to prove Corby owed the money, but Broc simply shook his head. “She’s right. Without something that says otherwise, the person who owns the bull owes the money.”
“I’ll kill him!” Amanda threatened. “Carruthers threatened to burn him out. I’ll help.”
“I can understand how you feel,” Ella said with a hearty laugh, “but killing him won’t help. You still won’t have the money to pay for the bull. If you burn the saloon down, neither one of you will have any money.”
“I’m just so angry I don’t know what I’m saying,” Amanda said.
She stood. She couldn’t subject Ella to any more of her temper, and right now she thought she would explode if she couldn’t work off some of the rage that burned through her. What an odd time to discover that even though she’d complained about being responsible for the ranch, she wanted it, didn’t mind working to make it successful. Owning the Lazy T gave her the opportunity to make a marriage of choice rather than one of necessity. It had given her the chance to find a man like Broc.
That was another sin to add to Corby’s list. Unless he would agree to repay the debt, he would be responsible for Broc going to jail. Amanda could forgive him many things, but she couldn’t forgive him that.
“Thank you for seeing us,” she said to Ella. “I hope we haven’t upset you.”
“Not at all,” Ella assured her. “I have too little in my life to interest me. You’ve given me my most entertaining afternoon in years. I’d love to be able to say you didn’t have to pay the rest of the money, but unfortunately I need it to live on.”
“I wouldn’t accept if you offered,” Amanda said. “You deserve payment, and I’ll see you get it.”
“Please let me know how things work out. I feel somehow responsible.”
“Please don’t. Thanks for the coffee and the cookies.”
As soon as they were outside, she turned to Broc. “What am I going to do?”
“We’re going to find a way to prove Corby owes that money.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. In the meantime, we’re going to have a nice dinner and take a walk in the moonlight.”
Amanda felt she should try to keep her mind focused on finding a solution to her problem, but it was difficult to think of anything other than Broc’s nearness. Walking in the moonlight with the man she loved was not a situation likely to keep her thoughts centered on anything beyond Broc. Besides, she had tomorrow to worry.
“Are you feeling better?” Broc asked.
“As long as I don’t think about Corby, I’m fine. I’d much rather think about you.” She probably shouldn’t have been so direct, but she was tired of restraint. She was tired of responsibility. She was tired of thinking of others first and herself later…if at all.
“I’d much rather think about you, too,” Broc said. “I don’t find Corby nearly as attractive.”
Amanda giggled. Usually she would have been embarrassed. According to her mother, ladies didn’t giggle, but she didn’t feel like a lady, at least not a grown one. She felt like a girl who’d fallen in love for the first time and couldn’t believe it had happened to her. She thanked whatever lucky star it was that prevented her from marrying Corby because it was the easiest and most practical thing to do.
“What are you going to do after you get out of jail?” She was afraid of the answer, but she had to ask.
“It depends.”
“On what?”
“Many things, but mostly you.”
They’d enjoyed a quiet dinner in a little restaurant where no one knew them. After they’d walked every street in Crystal Springs, they ended beside the spring that gave the town its name.
Dark clouds obscured the moon, but lights from the main street and the homes nearby provided enough illumination for them to see each other. In the shadows she was able to imagine he was the perfect young man he’d been before the war. She wished she’d known him then. She could easily imagine him as the hero in a romantic comedy. Even now, he was her idea of a perfect hero.
“Do you want to sit?” Broc asked.
Someone had been thoughtful enough to place several benches around the source of the springs. Amanda could imagine young couples coming here on sultry summer afternoons, resting in the shade of the tall maples and walnuts that shaded the springs. She was certain others preferred moonlit evenings when a soft breeze could give birth to romance in even the most jaded soul. Even with the moonlight now partially obscured by clouds, the evening had worked its magic on her. She wanted to stay here forever, to hide in the safety of this moment, to stretch it out until it encompassed the rest of her life.
“I’ll sit if you’ll sit next to me,” she answered.
Broc chuckled softly. “I was planning on it.”
She sat down. Broc settled down next to her and placed his arm around her shoulders. Amanda didn’t wait for an
invitation to lean into his embrace.
“Will you come back?” she asked.
“Are you sure you want me to?”
“Yes.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“Why?”
“To use a common term, I’ll be a jailbird. That’s not something a woman should have to accept in her husband or for her children. Your mother doesn’t like me now. She’s going to hold me responsible if you lose the ranch or the bull. Gary will blame me for that, as well as for Priscilla not liking him. You won’t be able to ignore the way people react to the way I look. Can you imagine what it would do to our children to be teased and taunted about their father’s scarred face? I have eight brothers and sisters. I know how cruel children can be.”
“I don’t care.”
“Maybe you’ll be able to ignore your family because they’re adults and should know better, but the things that can happen to your children will tear you apart. You may not think so now, but I know.”
Amanda had to convince Broc to come back to her. Together they could figure out how to face the future. Whatever the difficulties, they would be easier with him at her side. Maybe he didn’t know it yet, but anyone who dared badger or make fun of him for his looks would have to deal with her. She wouldn’t hesitate to tackle anyone who dared tease their children. Longhorn cows had been known to kill wolves in defense of their calves. Amanda didn’t see any reason she should be less protective.
“I don’t want to talk about any of that tonight,” she said to Broc. “I want to think about the present and let the future take care of itself.”
“Do you think it will?”
He sounded unsure of himself. It hurt her to realize the extent to which his injury had undermined his confidence in himself, the depth of his fear that no one would ever be able to love him. That was something she could do for him. She could love him year after year, his face growing more dear to her with each passing day. She could give him children who would think he was the most wonderful father in the world, capable of slaying all dragons and solving all problems. She would surround him with so much love, he would forget his face wasn’t perfect.
In her eyes, it was.
“We’ll have problems like everyone else,” she said, “but we have something they don’t, something so strong and so deep it will see us through any difficulty.”
It bothered her that he didn’t respond. She had to teach him to be optimistic again. In order to do that, she suspected he would have to get over his fear of facing his family. That was something she’d figured out without his telling her, but it was a battle for another day. This night was made for romance, and she didn’t intend to waste it.
“Kiss me.”
In the beginning, stealing moments for kisses had been exciting, something they did because they enjoyed it, because their kisses could say things they were reluctant to put into words. It was like stepping out of the real world for a few minutes. It was a time to feel young and free, to allow herself to be filled with love and hope.
Though she was certain Broc’s feelings for her hadn’t changed, his kisses had been different lately. There was a hesitancy to them, a bittersweet sadness because he was the cause of all her troubles. That feeling had intensified after Corby fired him and she quit in response.
“Kisses won’t change anything,” Broc said.
“I don’t want you to kiss me because I think it will make things better. I want you to kiss me because you want to, because you love me, and because I love you.”
Broc chuckled softly. “Any more reasons?”
“Hundreds, but they’re all I need.”
His kiss was gentle, but she didn’t want gentle. She wanted him to overpower her, to sweep her away with the strength of his love, to overwhelm her senses until she wasn’t aware of anything except him. She wanted to feel he couldn’t get enough of her, that he was going to devour her inch by inch. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him the way she wanted him to kiss her.
Broc didn’t need an explanation to realize she needed more than he was offering. Or maybe he’d been holding back, wanting to make sure her feelings for him hadn’t changed. She thought she’d made that clear, but apparently actions were easier to believe than words. She didn’t intend to leave any room for doubt.
She leaned forward, her breasts pressed hard against his chest, and kissed him with so much force she was certain her lips would be bruised. She reached deep inside herself in hopes of blasting through the last remnants of his reserve, his hesitation, his doubt. She was determined that by the time this night was over, there would be no barriers between them.
It took only seconds before she could feel his resistance begin to dissolve, the distance between them lessen. Broc took a breath, seemed to gather himself. Then his arms tightened around her, nearly crushing her with the ferocity of his embrace. From somewhere deep inside her came an answering response that leapt forward with the speed of a startled antelope, with the explosive force of an angry bull. It was as though the two of them were trying to hold on to each other so tightly nothing could ever tear them apart. More than that, she was trying to make Broc believe nothing could ever dent her love for him, that she wanted to be with him no matter what might happen in the future.
She wanted him to understand that he was her future.
Broc broke their embrace. “I shouldn’t be kissing you where anybody could walk up and see us.”
“What’s wrong with that? I love you, and you love me.”
“My mother would say I’m endangering your reputation. Your mother would say I’ve ruined you.”
Amanda tightened her hold on Broc. “I’m not my mother, and this isn’t Mississippi before the war. This is Texas. Everything is different here.”
“Only because everything is so unsettled. In a few years it will be the same all over again.”
“In a few years we’ll be an older, respectable couple. People will be used to us kissing. They’ll know we’re not ashamed of our attraction to each other. We’ll probably have half a dozen children to prove it.”
Broc’s bark of laughter was so spontaneous, it drew an answering laugh from Amanda.
“You’ll never be a leader of society with that attitude,” Broc said.
“Society will have to accept me the way I am. I’m in love with you and don’t care who knows.”
“When did you turn into such a rebel?”
“When I met you.”
Broc’s smile faded. “What have I done to make you love me so much?”
“Simply being who you are.”
“Being who I am has brought you nothing but trouble.”
“And a great deal of happiness.” Amanda’s arms tightened around him. “Do you realize if you hadn’t gotten into that fight and been sent to Cactus Bend to collect that debt, I might have married Corby?” She shuddered. “Nothing could be worse than that. Now kiss me again.”
Broc kissed Amanda with great thoroughness. She wondered how many women he’d practiced on before the war. Whoever they were, he’d learned his lessons well. She offered a silent thank-you to the universe.
She broke the kiss. “That wasn’t bad,” she said. “Do you think you could kiss me so well, every memory of Corby would be wiped from my mind forever?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a challenge I’m willing to accept.”
Broc didn’t succeed in obliterating Corby’s existence from her memory, but it was an experiment she hoped to repeat as often as possible. Broc’s kisses weren’t simply lips meeting lips; they weren’t simply an outward expression of their inner feelings for each other. They invited her to become part of him. It didn’t matter whether they were gentle, fierce, demanding, or sharing. Every one brought forth an answering response from her. She felt paired with him, bound to him, balanced with him, two souls coming together to face the future as one, indivisible and inseparable.
Just being in his arms and knowing he loved her was the most wonderful
feeling she’d ever experienced. She tried not to lose sight of the fact that she ought to be thinking of his happiness as much as her own, but it was impossible not to concentrate on soaking up the wonderful feeling of being wanted and needed for who she was as a person, not for what she looked like or for what she could do.
Broc sensed the presence of another couple before she did. She felt something inside him grow still—tense. “Someone’s coming.”
She knew she shouldn’t feel angry, but she resented this couple’s intrusion into the first evening she’d ever been able to spend alone with Broc. There must have been a dozen other places the couple could have gone. Why did they have to choose this one? There should be a rule that says a second couple can’t come to this spot until the first couple has left. Even when she could hear their voices coming closer, could hear the crunch of gravel under their feet, she didn’t want to release her hold on Broc. It would be like losing him all over again.
But there was no point in trying to hold on to a moment that had come and gone. She didn’t know which of them was made more uncomfortable by the approach of other people, but it didn’t really matter whether it was Broc’s scar or her mother’s oft-repeated rules of propriety. Either one was enough to dissipate the mood that had enabled her to feel she and Broc were alone in the world. She allowed her arms to drop from around Broc, and he moved back a step.
But he didn’t let go of her hand. That meant a lot to her.
“It’s getting late.”
She felt as if the evening had just started. “We just got here.”
Broc laughed softly. She loved that sound. There was something comforting and warm about it. It was a special way of communicating that existed only between them, something he shared with her and no one else.
“We’ve been here nearly an hour.”
It couldn’t have been that long. In an hour, she could have extracted a promise from Broc to come back to her the minute he was released from jail. They might even have figured out a way to make Corby pay off the debt if she’d been willing to waste those precious minutes thinking about anything but how much she loved Broc. “It doesn’t seem half that long to me.”
When Love Comes Page 23