Only we don’t, she thought and swallowed the sob in her throat. Rick was leaving, and life would go on without him. Life always went on. Oh, but how she wished things could be different. If only she could be more like her sisters. If only he wasn’t so against women like her…
Gazing deep into her eyes, he cupped her chin and tilted her head upward. Their mouths met, and the sweet tenderness of his lips sent waves of desire spiraling through her.
Giving in to the divine ecstasy he offered, she rose on tiptoes to deepen the kiss. If this was to be their last kiss, by George, she meant to make the most of it.
The sudden urgency of his kiss suggested a similar thought had crossed his mind. Crushing her to him, his lips grew ever more persuasive, and her senses reeled. Nothing experienced in the past—none of the stolen kisses of her youth—compared in scope to this one. How was it possible that a kiss could both quench an inner need and leave her hankering for more? Much more.
The door flew open to her father’s voice. “Amanda? Is that you?”
They drew apart like two guilty children, the space between them now torture.
Her lips still warm and moist and tingling with pleasure, she managed a breathless reply. “Yes, Papa. I’ll be there in a minute.” She turned back to Rick. “I better go,” she whispered. “I can vote in the next election, but Papa still rules the roost.”
“I guess this is good-bye then,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Her heart squeezed tight. Never had a single word sounded so final. “Maybe…maybe you’ll come back for a visit.”
“Maybe.” They stood mere inches apart, but it felt like they were on different continents.
“Good luck with your speech,” he said.
She blinked back the threatening tears. “Good luck with your horse ranch.”
“Just so you know, I admire what you’re doin’. All that sufferin’ stuff…”
“Amanda!”
“Coming, Papa.”
Rick squeezed her elbow, the warmth of his touch sending flames of longing rushing through her. “Take care of yourself, Amanda. And just remember: I’ll always be rootin’ for you.”
Backing away, she held him in her vision until the tears hid him from view. Only then did she turn and run to the house.
* * *
As Amanda hastened away, Rick felt like his whole world had collapsed. With a quick wave, she vanished inside, and he nearly doubled over with pain. The soft thud of the closing door wouldn’t have sounded more final had it been a coffin lid.
He was tempted to chase after her, but that would have been a mistake. For both of them. It would only end in disaster. It hurt like the dickens, but better now than later. Had his father walked away in the beginning, he would have saved himself years of heartache. Instead, he married a woman totally unsuited to marriage and family. A woman who would eventually walk away from him and his two small children and never look back. How Rick hated what his mother had done to him. To the whole family. Hated how her actions dictated his life, even now.
Hands in his pockets, he started down the street. No sense dwelling on the past. At last, he was exonerated. The man who had killed his wife was dead. The nightmare was over. He was a free man. He could hardly wait to break the news to his sister.
Rick inhaled the night air, but the gnawing pain in his chest was hard to ignore. He should be happy. Ecstatic. Jumping with joy. Instead, he felt…what? Lost. Miserable. Lonely. Dejected.
I love you the way you are too.
The memory of those soft-spoken words pierced his heart. Of all the dumb, stupid, idiotic things he could have done, falling in love with Amanda Lockwood had to be the worst.
Even the night sky reminded him of her. Whenever she spoke of her suffering work, her eyes shone as bright as any star.
He once asked why his father didn’t stop his mother from leaving. His father replied that it would be easier to hold back the wind. As a child, the answer made little sense, but now, he understood.
The single-minded purpose driving Amanda was as strong as any hurricane. A woman with such ambitious goals would never settle for the quiet life he longed for. She dreamed of changing the world; his dreams were far more modest. Home, family, horses…the good life.
Growing up, he thought he was like his mother, with the same restless spirit. But it turned out he was more like his father than he knew. Prison could change a man in unexpected ways. Or maybe it just stripped away all pretenses, revealing the true self.
If only he could stop thinking of Amanda’s sweet smile or the alluring way she tilted her head. Or forget the soft feel of her lips and velvet smoothness of her touch. Even the craziness and havoc she created intrigued him and, at times, made him laugh and love her more.
He groaned. Here he went again. Dwelling on things best left behind. In an effort to erase the painful memories, he picked up his pace, pounding the ground with his peg-heeled boots.
Horses, that’s what he had to think about. Once he went back to raising horses, he would no longer think of Amanda Lockwood. She had her priorities, and he had his.
And that’s the way it was meant to be.
Thirty-eight
Amanda was the lone passenger on the stagecoach that hot summer day in June. That was a very good thing; she had much on her mind and was in no mood for company.
The trip to Austin and the suffragist meeting had been a tremendous success. At last, she had accomplished something worth sharing. The applause and cheers of congratulations still rang in her ears. But the real satisfaction came from knowing what her short stint as sheriff did for the town.
Three of the worst outlaws Two-Time had ever known were now behind bars, and the gang leader, Cooper, was dead. That wasn’t all. Women had turned out in droves to cast votes for her replacement. After having a say in civic affairs, they were no longer willing to go back to being second-rate citizens. The men of Two-Time had been warned—things would be different from now on.
Best of all, Sheriff Scooter Hobson was doing a terrific job of keeping law and order, though he still tended to hoot and holler in delight whenever he made an arrest.
Even Lucy Stone was impressed by the way things had turned out. Amanda sighed. If only…
She shook her head. No, everything was perfect. She couldn’t be happier. Happy, happy, happy.
Pulling a handkerchief out of the sleeve of her blue traveling suit, she dabbed at her eyes. Happy, happy, happy!
But she couldn’t smother the thought. If only Rick was waiting to share her success. Without someone to share it with, the applause, the congratulations—all of it—rang hollow.
Closing her eyes, she sighed. No sense wishing things could be different. They wanted different things from life. As much as she understood his feelings, it still hurt. It hurt a lot.
Oh God, when would the pain go away so she could once again feel like herself? How long before the tears stopped? Before the broken pieces of her heart stopped cutting into her very soul?
When she left Two-Time a week ago, she honestly thought that the excitement of being with like minds would put her feelings in perspective. She fully expected to return home with a new sense of purpose and commitment. But rather than pick up her spirits, the trip to Austin only made her feel worse.
That was the least of it. She couldn’t concentrate. Even Lucy Stone’s rousing speech had barely made an impact. Later, Amanda was hard-pressed to recall a single word that anyone had said. She barely remembered giving her own speech.
The worst part was bursting into tears at the most inopportune moments. Fortunately, the others believed her when she said she was just touched by all that been accomplished these last three months. Not just by her but others. Marilyn Hock even got her company to raise women’s pay, though it was still way below what men were paid.
Now, sniffling into
her handkerchief, she promised herself no more tears. The next suffragist meeting was in September, and there was still work to be done.
Tucking her handkerchief away, Amanda stared out the stage window. Happy, happy, happy. The scenery blurred past. Happy, happy, happy.
The stagecoach driver’s voice brought her out of her reverie. For some reason, he was urging the horses to go faster, and the stage picked up speed. Oh no! Not again. Not more bandits!
Alarmed, she flew to the window. The coach hit a bump, and she almost lost her balance. Grabbing hold of the windowsill, she pushed her head between the leather curtains. The wind tossed sand and grit in her face and tugged at her good peacock hat.
Far as she could tell, no one was chasing them. Then why…
The stage lurched around a boulder, forcing her to hold on tight.
“Stop!” she yelled, throwing herself onto the seat. Was the man off his rails? “Stop this minute!”
Banging on the ceiling with her parasol, she pleaded with the driver to stop or at least slow down. But the stage kept going, tossing her from one side to the other like a cork in a stormy sea.
“Ooh. There better be bandits chasing us, or I’ll have your head! You…you…” She called him every name she could think of.
Finally, mercifully, the stage rolled to a stop.
Gasping for air, she righted her hat and straightened her skirt. “It’s about time.”
The door flew open, and Bullwhip’s head appeared. He glowered at her over his full red beard. “Call me names, will ya?”
“No more than what you deserve!” she shot back. “Why were you driving like a… Wait. What are you doing?”
She practically fell out of the coach in her hurry to stop him, but it was too late. He’d already tossed her traveling trunk from the roof of the stage and into the dirt.
“You can’t leave me out here!”
“Wanna bet?”
He slammed the door shut and climbed onto the driver’s seat.
“Wait!” she cried. Oh fudge. She would have to apologize to the man. But before she could bring herself to do the dreaded thing, he drove off, leaving her stranded in the middle of nowhere.
She watched the fast-departing stage, seething with fury. “Just wait!” she yelled after him, tossing her parasol to the ground.
The man had some nerve, that’s for sure. If they didn’t finish the railroad line between Austin and Two-Time soon, she’d be tempted to lay the track herself. Just so she’d never have to deal with the temperamental stagecoach driver again.
Now what would she do?
Hands at her waist, she turned slowly and stopped. She blinked, and her heart practically stood still. Was that… No, no, it couldn’t be. She was seeing things.
“Rick?” she whispered in disbelief, then yelled at the top of her lungs. “Rick!”
Ignoring the six-inch rule, she hiked up her skirts, revealing a shocking display of red satin bloomers beneath the hem. But she didn’t care. She ran so fast, her high-button shoes barely touched the ground.
Face shaded by his wide-brimmed hat, Rick greeted her with a grin as wide as the Texas sky.
Shamelessly, she ran into his open arms and sent his hat flying.
His lips brushed her forehead, her nose, and finally settled on her mouth. With a happy sigh, she flung her arms around his neck to shower him with kisses of her own.
By the time he finally pulled back, they were both out of breath.
“What are you doing here?” she asked when at last her brain kicked in. A short distance away, Spirit (she couldn’t bring herself to call him Killer) was hitched to a wagon. “I thought you’d left and—” Confused, she dropped her arms and stepped back to gaze at the thing by his side. “And why is my hope chest here?”
“Woodman did a fine job of fixin’ the damage, don’t you think?” He indicated the new handle on the side and ran his hand across the newly varnished top. “You’d never know it was shot at twice and barely survived a fire.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” she said, puzzled. “But that still doesn’t explain…” She shook her head in confusion. She must be dreaming. Nothing else made sense.
He laughed. “I wish you could have seen the look on your face when Bullwhip tossed you out bag and baggage.”
Something dawned on her, and she slanted a look of suspicion at him. “You didn’t—”
He scooped up his hat and placed it on his head. “Cost me a pretty penny to get him to leave you out here in the wilderness.”
“But…but why?”
He grew serious. “You and me have some discussin’ to do, and I don’t aim on havin’ any interruptions.”
His heated gaze made her quiver with anticipation. “What…what kind of discussing?”
Seating himself on the hope chest, he reached for her hand and pulled her down by his side. He stared at her palm. “I told you I’d never get entangled with an independent woman.”
“Yes. Yes, you did say that. Several times in fact.”
“Well…” He cleared his throat and released her hand. “While you were gone, I did some thinkin’.”
“Oh, Rick, I did some thinking too.”
He touched a finger to her lips. “This is my party, so I get to talk first.”
“But why here?” Cactus and yuccas were all the eye could see for miles around. “In the middle of nowhere?”
“This isn’t nowhere. This is where I first fell in love with you. Only I was too pigheaded to know it at the time.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He’d mentioned love before, but not with such urgency or passion. Not with such depth of emotion.
“Oh, Rick…” Feelings she’d tried to ignore rose to the surface. She had so much she wanted to say, but words failed her. When had she first fallen in love with him? Hard to know. Love had somehow snuck up on her when she least expected it. In some ways, it felt like she’d loved him all her life.
“When I first saw you standin’ there beside your hope-a-thingie”—he pointed to the place beside the road—“I thought you were a mirage.” He chuckled. “You looked horn-tossin’ mad.”
She laughed at the memory. “That…that was also the day I ran for sheriff.”
“Little did I know at the time how that would change my life.”
“Both our lives,” she whispered.
Being sheriff gave her a unique perspective that enabled her to take a long hard look at herself. She thought she knew what she wanted out of life. How foolish of her to think that her charitable causes and suffragist work would be enough. She now knew she wanted more—so much more than she’d ever imagined. She wanted a husband and children too; she wanted to love and be loved. She wanted a personal life as well as a public one. But was such a thing possible?
“These last couple of weeks…” He shook his head. “Each day we were apart felt like a year.”
“The days were long for me too. I thought they’d never end.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said.
She nodded. “I couldn’t eat.”
“I couldn’t think of anythin’ but you.”
She blinked in an effort to keep the tears from falling. “I almost flubbed my speech. I kept wishing you were in the audience.”
His eyes smoldered. “I like myself a whole lot better when I’m with you.”
She drew in her breath. “I like us too.” Before meeting him, she saw everything that was wrong with the world, everything that needed fixing. Now, she saw everything that was right too.
He heaved a sigh. “Sounds like you and me have it bad.”
“Real bad,” she agreed.
He arched a dark eyebrow. “The question now is what are we gonna do ’bout it?”
She moistened her lips. “I…I could give up my work.” Certainly, she could give up traveling.
It would cause her great pain, but no more so than losing him.
“I got a better idea. If you could give this cowpoke a chance…I’ll try my darndest not to complain when you’re off givin’ speeches. The only thing I ask in return is your promise to always come back to me. Because if I lost you…” He grimaced as if the thought was unbearable.
She held her breath. Was he saying what she hoped he was saying? If this is a dream, please, no one wake me. She didn’t even know she was crying until he handed her a clean handkerchief.
Air rushed out of her lungs as she dabbed away her tears. “Does this mean you plan on staying in Two-Time?”
“A lot depends on whether the bank approves a loan so I can start my horse ranch here.”
“Mr. Mooney will. I know he will. That is, if he wants his meals on the table.”
Rick laughed and brushed a peacock feather away from his face. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Oh, Rick…I’ve been such an awful fool. I thought being a modern, independent woman meant I had to turn my back on convention. But what it really means is I get to choose what’s right for me. And Rick Barrett, I choose you.”
The warmth and desire in his eyes almost took her breath away. “You don’t know how much it means to hear you say that. I choose you too.”
“And that business about coming back to you…I don’t need to make that promise, because I don’t intend to ever leave you. Not for a day. Not for an hour. Not even for a minute.”
He drew back. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. I could never ask you to sacrifice your sufferin’ work for me.”
“Sacrifice? Oh, no, Rick. Anything I do for you would be done out of love, not sacrifice.”
At last, she understood why Mama always put Papa and her girls first; why Josie had so willingly left everything behind to travel to Arizona for Ralph’s health; why Meg would follow Grant to the moon if necessary. Amanda now knew what it meant to be madly, deliciously, head over heels in love. She would find a way to have it all.
“What about your speeches?” Rick asked.
A Match Made in Texas Page 27