Texas Heroes: Volume 1

by Jean Brashear

  He was so strong that he hid his pain too well, but for a moment Maddie thought she knew his heart’s need. She lifted herself higher, sliding her fingers into his hair, murmuring soothing comfort mingled with sharp spikes of need.

  Through Boone shot the same fierce need to possess her that had driven him the night of the dance. He dropped his hands lower and gripped her hips. Pulling her hard against him, he wanted to tear off her clothes and his own, to salve this endless ache that was so much more than physical.

  Maddie thrilled to his touch, to the power of the wanting she felt from him. As his hand slid upward and cupped her breast, she arched against him, pressing into his fingers.

  When they tightened, Maddie bucked against him. Her grandmother’s dress slipped from nerveless fingers, and she realized how close she’d danced to the edge of a terrifying precipice.

  It was one second of sanity in a world gone mad with longing.

  One second of hesitation, facing the point of no return.

  Could she do this to him? To herself? For a moment, Maddie flirted with the idea of staying, of yielding to the ever-increasing sense of connection to this place, to the past—

  To this man.

  The second’s pause was fatal to something too new, too fragile. It gave Boone time to feel her doubts. To remember.

  He couldn’t let himself need Maddie. He couldn’t let her in this close. She spoke to him on a level deeper than anyone in his life had ever gone.

  Shaken to his boots, he realized that Maddie could break him, when nothing else in his life ever had.

  She felt him leave her, felt him pull away just the tiniest bit. It might as well have been the Grand Canyon.

  She dangled over the precipice, naked and needy. Alone again for one eternal moment when she thought she’d found home.

  Why hadn’t she learned from the past? Robert had brought her low, but he had been nothing like Boone, had not wielded a fraction of Boone’s power to hurt her. Boone was a thousand times more dangerous to everything she’d been trying to recover.

  Boone wanted her, yes. She even thought he needed her.

  But he didn’t want to want her. And he needed her gone.

  Maddie stepped back, her chest heaving.

  Boone didn’t stop her, though his empty fingers flexed and his chest ached.

  Maddie couldn’t look at Boone, couldn’t bear to see the truth on his face. One hand pressed tightly to her lips, she turned away and stared out the window, still clutching her grandmother’s dress to her breast.

  She started to speak, but her voice wasn’t hers to command. Maddie cleared her throat and tried again.

  “I found my grandmother’s things.”

  Behind her, she heard his voice, low and strained. “I see that. Do you want me to carry the trunk downstairs to your room?”

  So polite. So distant.

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No trouble.”

  Maddie didn’t turn around. Behind her, she heard Boone close the trunk and lift it, heading for the stairs. With a shaky breath, she turned and carefully folded the dress, wrapping it back in the sheet she had dropped in her haste. Fighting hard to hold inside emotions careening out of control, Maddie carried the dress down the stairs.

  When she passed Boone leaving her room, she cast one quick glance at him. If she had seen the slightest sign that he was struggling, too, she might have tried to talk to him, though she had no idea what to say.

  There were no words for the power of what had passed between them.

  Nor for the impossibility of what kept them apart.

  But Maddie didn’t have to worry. The man who had kissed her, the man whose heart had lain bare to her own for a few precious seconds…that man lay safely buried behind a mask of stone. That man might have existed only in her very vivid imagination.

  For one endless second, every fiber of Maddie’s soul cried out for that man’s return.

  Chapter Nine

  Boone closed up the attic and walked out of the house like a man gone blind. He fought an urge to get in his truck and head for the nearest port, to lose himself as an anonymous seaman once again. To hide out somewhere, anywhere, until Maddie left.

  He squinted against the scorching sun and lectured the part of him that seemed bent on destruction.

  She won’t stay.

  You haven’t asked her.

  Remember how she was with Marlowe. She can’t wait to get back.

  She wasn’t thinking about New York up in the attic.

  For a minute, that was all. Yes, there was heat between them. Boone shook his head. Heat, hell—there was nuclear meltdown when he touched Maddie.

  But it wasn’t enough. She deserved so much more. What did he have to offer, a man who knew a hundred ways to kill? A man so incapable of love that his only child never had a chance to be born? A life of hard work and loneliness stuck away in the back of beyond? He’d already ruined one woman’s life. He would not risk Maddie… bright, beautiful Maddie.

  You could go with her. To the city.

  No. He could not.

  He would not forsake this place again. Now, more than ever, he was needed to be its guardian. For the sake of the desolation in Maddie’s eyes, he would keep this place safe. It was one thing he could do for her, no matter his other shortcomings. He no longer expected to have a family of his own, but if Mitch didn’t want the ranch, maybe Maddie’s children would.

  A hell of a life, Boone ol’ buddy.

  It’s who I am. It’s all I really need.

  And with that thought, Boone straightened his hat and headed for the barn. Lunch was the last thing on his mind.

  Maddie spread out the dress on her bed carefully, smoothing its folds. When she’d first held it, she’d been eager to try it on.

  Not anymore.

  Instead, she sank down on the rug by the bed and reached into the trunk again, her movements lethargic. She looked through framed pictures of unidentified people. Maybe later she’d take them out of the frames and see if anyone had marked them on the back, but not now.

  At the bottom of the pile Maddie saw a little red leather book that looked like a diary.

  With shaking fingers, she lifted it out and sat back down, cradling it on her lap. With slow strokes, she traced the shabby remains of what might once have been gold leaf. Then she drew in a deep breath and opened the cover.

  Rose McCall, it said in spiky, formal script. Beneath it was added the name Wheeler, with a heart drawn beside it.

  So now Maddie knew. Her grandmother’s maiden name had been McCall. And she had loved Jack Wheeler, the grandfather who had died too soon. Rose might even have been a romantic, Maddie thought. Drawing the heart was something a younger Maddie might have done.

  The thought of her grandmother as a hopeful young bride brought a smile. Then Maddie remembered how it had all turned out, and her heart ached for the woman she’d never met.

  Reining in her thoughts, Maddie turned the page. The diary seemed to start when Rose had been twelve, and soon Maddie was lost in a life utterly different than anything she’d known. Rose spoke of hard times, and Maddie found a date that pinpointed this as what came to be called the Great Depression. But Rose spoke of girlish dreams and seemed to take the hardships in stride.

  Soon Maddie traveled with Rose through teenage years in a world so innocent it was hard to believe. She marveled at the simplicity of life, the lack of cynicism, the focus on a world close at hand.

  Until Maddie’s stomach growled, she never even registered that she’d forgotten to eat lunch. A quick glance at the shifted sunlight told her that lunch was hours past. Reluctantly, she closed the book and reached for the table to set it down, but she didn’t reach far enough and it slipped off the table’s edge. As she grabbed for it, a folded sheet of paper fluttered to the floor.

  Maddie righted the book and opened the paper. The sheet bore no date. Maddie read the words on the page with growing disbelief.


  I do not know what to do. I have just heard that Jenny is marrying Sam Gallagher. My heart cries out to tell her that Dalton is not dead, but what good would it do? I curse the day I cast all of our lives into hell by fighting back when Buster raged. Now I have no son, and Jenny is marrying another. My son is lost to me. He paid too high a price to save me. If I knew where he was, I would turn myself in so that he could reclaim his life, no matter what Ben says.

  I am the last of my line. My blood will not inherit this place.

  My mind returns, again and again, to Jenny’s visit before she left town months ago. She was pale and trembling; she would start to speak as if to confide, then lapse into silence. It was all I could do to cling to the story that Dalton was dead.

  She has been gone for seven months. I think back to cues that were there and wonder. Did Jenny bear my grandchild somewhere far away? Is there a piece of my son lost to us all?

  And do I have the right to ask her? I could be wrong. It could be wishful thinking. Jenny was always an upright child, but she did love Dalton deeply, as he loved her. They could have yielded to natural urges. But once he vanished, would she not have told me or asked me for help?

  Perhaps not. She was always a thoughtful girl, and she knew I was half out of my mind with grief.

  Sam is a good young man, Dalton’s best friend. I have known for years that he loved Jenny, too, though she never had eyes for anyone but my son. If she had borne Dalton’s child, would Sam have taken it to his heart? And what would it do to their fledgling marriage if I bring my questions to light?

  I must think on this longer, and pray for guidance. Jenny has suffered greatly. I do not wish to cause her more pain. I cannot offer her the comfort of hearing that Dalton is alive without torturing her with the knowledge that he is lost to us both. Ben told him he had to vanish and make a new life under a new name. Even Ben doesn’t know where he is now.

  Ben is a good man who has helped me carry a heavy secret. He is happy for his Sam to be marrying Jenny. After all he has done for Dalton and me, do I have the right to destroy Sam’s happiness?

  I do not know the answers. Dear Lord, guide me in the right path.

  Maddie didn’t know what to think, how to feel. She flipped the diary open to the last page. It was dated a year earlier. She had been through the entire trunk. There was nowhere else to look for the answer to Rose’s questions.

  Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. She might have a brother or sister out there somewhere. She might not be alone, after all. Her pulse scrambled.

  Where were the answers? What would Boone say when she told him?

  Oh, dear. Boone. If there had been a child of Jenny and Dalton’s, it would be his half-sibling, too.

  Maddie leapt to her feet, ready to race downstairs to tell him—

  She froze. Tell him what? Boone thought his mother an angel. Boone had had so much uproar in his life lately. Did she have the right to destroy his image of her, too, the one thing left pure and shining from his childhood?

  Maddie knew only too well how it felt to suddenly find out that your parent wasn’t the person you thought. She couldn’t put Boone through that with so little evidence. She couldn’t tell Boone until she was sure. What she’d read was pure speculation on Rose’s part, guessing that her son had—

  Maddie sat down heavily. Had fathered a child he’d never even known he had. With the woman he had loved first and best. Her eyes filled with tears. So much loss, so much pain. Even if he’d never known it, Maddie ached at one more example of all her father had sacrificed.

  Then excitement stirred again. She might have a brother or sister—she couldn’t wait to find him or her. She leapt to her feet and prepared to race down to the telephone to call—

  Whom? She had no one who would understand but Boone.

  Then she remembered. Dev would be back. Dev would help her.

  She had to keep this from Boone until she knew whether or not this child even existed. Then she would figure out a way to break the news.

  Maybe he would be happy. It would be a piece of his mother, lost for years.

  But even as Maddie voiced the thought in her mind, she knew she might be very wrong. She was alone. She had reason to welcome a sibling. Boone already had a brother and a clear, untarnished image of his mother in his mind.

  Maddie would not disturb that fragile memory. Not yet, not until there was no choice. It was the least she could do for a man whose life had already been thrown into chaos by other people’s mistakes.

  Boone was out in the north pasture digging postholes when Jim found him.

  “You plannin’ to dig your way down to China?”

  Boone kept working, needing the exertion. The handles of the posthole diggers held tight in his fists, he struck another harsh blow into the soil, until the clang of metal against limestone sent a shock singing up his arms.

  “It’s getting late. You about ready to wrap up?”

  Boone shot Jim a glance. Without speaking, he shook his head.

  “Not easy, diggin’ postholes in the dark,” Jim observed casually.

  Boone jammed the posthole diggers down in the hole and jerked around. “What the hell do you want, Jim?”

  “It won’t help, you know.”

  “We already agreed that this fence needs moving.”

  “This fall. Not today. And you know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

  Boone subsided then, staring off into the distance.

  “Three weeks left, right?”

  Boone nodded.

  “You gonna waste them digging postholes or you gonna see if that little gal might change her mind?”

  “She won’t.” Boone’s jaw tightened.

  Jim cursed, long and low. “You asked her, flat out?”

  “No. But she’s said it often enough.”

  “You might could change her mind. I’ve seen her look at you.”

  He shot Jim a glance. “What do you mean by that?”

  “After the dance, she stared at you like you were some kind of hero.”

  A thousand years had passed between him and Maddie since the dance. A thousand miles they’d traveled on a path leading nowhere.

  “Leave it alone, Jim. There’s no future for Maddie and me.”

  “So you’re just going to leave it at that? There’s nothing left of the boy inside the man?”

  Boone’s head jerked up. “What does that mean?”

  “I knew a fourteen-year-old boy who kept this ranch from going under through sheer will, when everything else in his life had fallen to pieces.”

  “I had you to help me. And I left as soon as I could.”

  “Four years later. Four years of hell. And anyone would have left. You came back when Sam needed you, even though he’d treated you like something he scraped off his boot.”

  “And I managed to kill my wife and—” Boone swore at what he’d almost revealed.

  But Jim didn’t notice. “You are going to beat yourself into the ground about that worthless woman until the day you die, aren’t you? And in the meantime, you’re going to let pure gold slip through your fingers.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I understand that you’re doing something I never thought I’d see from you. You’re giving up without a fight.”

  “I’m trying to do right by her, damn it. There’s nothing for her here.” His already-strained temper exploded. “You tell me why a woman who could take New York by storm would want to settle for a piece of dirt in Texas, Jim. I sure as hell can’t figure it out. But you go ahead—figure out why in the hell Maddie would want to stay here, and I’ll be glad to fight to keep her.”

  Jim looked only slightly chastened. “Maddie feels something for this place, more every day.”

  Boone fought the urge to rub his chest where it ached. “But it’s not enough.”

  The older man studied him. “Maybe she’s waiting for you to give her more reasons.”

  He couldn’t let himself th
ink about how much he wished that were true. And his pride kept him from telling Jim that he couldn’t stand not being enough for Maddie, watching that bright light dim as she got past the sentimental attachment to her grandmother’s place and realized that all he had to offer wasn’t enough.

  “Luanne Mason has been talking about selling The Dinner Bell.”

  Boone snorted. “Maddie’s got job offers in Manhattan. Why would she want a greasy spoon in Morning Star?”

  “Maybe there’s more to Maddie than you realize. She’s been wandering for a long time. I think she’s hungry for someplace to belong.”

  So far-fetched. Jim hadn’t seen her with Marlowe, hadn’t watched her eyes sparkle, discussing New York. But for one treacherous instant, Boone let himself think about Maddie staying. Even if The Dinner Bell only kept her here for a while, it would buy him time to bind her to him, to think of something else.

  No, it was crazy. He was crazy for grasping at straws.

  “I can tell you’re already talking yourself out of it. I know it’s a long shot, but when did that ever stop you before?”

  It was more than a long shot. It was a trip to Mars. But there was nothing to be lost by mentioning it to Maddie, he guessed. But was it right for Maddie?

  Boone looked at the lowering sun and grabbed the posthole diggers in one hand. “I’ll mention it, even though it won’t do any good.”

  Satisfaction lit up Jim’s grin. “It’s a start, son.”

  “It’s a dead end, and you know it.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time Maddie surprised you.” Jim walked away, whistling.

  Jim had no idea how much Boone wished, for once, that the older man was right and Boone was wrong.

  He loaded up his gear and headed for the house.