Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance)

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Heart Of Texas (Historical Romance) Page 10

by Constance O'Banyon


  She lay down beside her sister, wondering how she could get Gabe out of her thoughts. He was a man, and she was a woman, and he had awakened her to that fact almost from their first meeting.

  Why did she feel so empty inside? Why did she want to run back to the bunkhouse and throw herself into Gabe's arms? She wanted him to hold her tightly against him. She closed her eyes and felt a light breeze cool her body.

  She had to think of something else. She closed her eyes, and weariness soon overcame her resistance and she fell asleep.

  Saddle leather creaked as Gabe dismounted and walked up the steps of the house that he had sworn never again to enter. He stood before the massive wooden door, hesitant, knowing once he stepped inside he would start something that probably wouldn't stop until either he or Cyrus was dead.

  He was suddenly struck by memories of when he'd first been brought to Casa Mesa. At that time he had still been grieving for his mother, who had just died. He had been placed under the care of a father he had hardly known, who had taken him away from everything familiar in his life.

  As a young boy he had lived through anguish in this house. Cyrus had been cruel and demanding, and he seemed to derive some kind of sick pleasure from humiliating those around him. But Gabe had found an unexpected ally in his half sister, Nora, who had become a wonderful com panion. It wasn't until a few years had passed that Gabe understood why Cyrus had brought him to the house. It hadn't been out of any fatherly affection.

  Looking back, he wondered if there could have been a way to prevent the tragedy that had befallen Nora, but no one had known the extent to which Cyrus would go to get his own way.

  Gabe placed his hand on the doorknob, feeling the cold brass beneath his fingers. He had been the one who'd found Nora's body, and the scene kept playing over in his mind. He would sometimes awake during the night drenched in sweat, trying to forget the awful sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood. The rage he had tried to suppress for so long now reared up inside him, almost choking him. He remembered how his father had stood in the doorway of Nora's room, unwilling to go near her lifeless body, cursing her for a weakling.

  He had even refused to attend her funeral.

  Cyrus was twisted, cruel, and cunning, and he had now cast his greedy eyes on the Spanish Spur. Gabe had to stop him. There were not many men Gabe could call on to help, because everyone was afraid of Cyrus; that fear allowed him to ride roughshod over anyone who got in his way.

  Gabe stepped inside the door and looked about the main room-it was just the way he remembered it. It was large with overstuffed leather furniture that had been made in Italy especially to Cyrus's specifications-a fact that his father repeated to everyone who admired the furnishings.

  The wooden floors were beautiful and unique, made with wide planks that had come from California cypress trees. Gabe remembered the large kitchen with its open hearth and many copper pans hanging from racks.

  He wondered if the cook, Juanita, was still around. He had loved the plump little woman as a boy. She had often made him special desserts that Cyrus never knew about.

  He glanced at the dark mahogany staircase that curved upward in two different directions and led to five bedrooms. The one room he knew the least about was his father's study, since he had been in it only one time: the day he had told his father that he had joined the army, and he wouldn't be coming back.

  Memories of the past walked beside him as he moved down the long hallway that led to the study. He took a deep breath and stopped at the doorway. He was there for a purpose, and he wouldn't leave until he faced his father.

  Gabe's footsteps were silent as he stepped into the room. There behind the desk, with his head bent over paperwork, was the man Gabe despised most in the world.

  Cyrus didn't even look up when he spoke. "I've been expecting you, Gabe. Come in and sit down. I'm just finishing up here. I'll be with you shortly."

  "Thank you, I'll stand. What I have to say to you won't take long. I know you're the one responsible for poisoning the cattle on the Spanish Spur. And I came to warn you to stay away from the Hamiltons. They are under my protection."

  Cyrus shoved his papers aside and glanced at Gabe. "Is that right?" There was utter contempt in Cyrus's voice, and a coldness in his eyes that chilled to the bone. "So the boy thinks he's become a man and thinks he can take on his father?"

  "I am a man, and I will stop you. No one knows you like I do. You won't quit until you get what you want." Gabe leaned against the door and crossed his arms over his chest. "You aren't going to win this time, Cyrus."

  For the first time Cyrus really looked at his son; Gabe had become a man in the years he'd been away. He favored his mother in many ways, but there was plenty of evidence that Gabe was his son, too. They were about the same height and their eye color was the same. Over the years Cyrus had grown accustomed to people either avoiding his gaze or looking into his eyes with fear. There was no fear in his son's eyes, and it gave him a certain feeling of pride, but that pride would not stop him from bringing Gabe down and crushing him beneath his boots.

  Gabe noticed the changes in his father. There was gray at his temples and a slight stoop to his shoulders. The lines were deeper along his mouth. He had aged more than Gabe had expected. His eyes were just as hard and cold, but now his brows were dusted with gray and not stark black, as they had been the last time he'd seen him.

  "And you think you will be the one to stop me?" Cyrus asked, his eyes marble-hard and cold.

  "Yes, I will. I've watched you destroy lives with the same dispassion you would feel if you swatted a mosquito. You are responsible for my sister's death as surely as if you had pulled the trigger yourself."

  His father shot to his feet, rage twisting his features. "I did nothing but try to give her some backbone, but she was a weakling like her mother. She latched on to that bastard Yates, thinking she loved him. She should've known I'd never let her marry a man like him. But you are not here to talk about Nora, and I don't want to hear anything more about her. As far as I'm concerned, I never had a daughter, and I certainly don't have a son."

  Gabe noticed that his father was breathing heavily, and he had paled. He had struck a nerve by bringing up Nora's death. Cyrus had been more affected by his daughter's death than he would have anyone believe.

  "My sister deserved better than you gave her. She deserved a better life than the one you provided. But you're the one I pity the most. You destroyed everything that was good in your life because of greed."

  Cyrus stormed around the desk and planted himself directly in front of his son. "Pity me? The bastard I brought into my home and sat at my table! Pity me!"

  Gabe's gaze did not waver. "A bastard, no. You did marry my mother, although I never could figure out what she saw in you."

  "I'll just tell you about your mother. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, with her long black hair and doelike eyes that could look right into a man's soul."

  "You have no soul."

  Cyrus went on as if Gabe hadn't spoken. "I wanted her, but she wouldn't have me without marriage, so I obliged her with a proper ceremony. But if she thought I was going to parade her before my friends and introduce her as my wife, she was disappointed, wasn't she?"

  "My mother loved you until the day she died, even though you moved her to a small cabin miles from nowhere, and then neglected her. But I'm not here to talk about my mother. I'm here to warn you to stay away from the Hamilton family. I will do whatever it takes to keep you from destroying another life. Nora's spirit demands that of me."

  Cyrus's eyes dimmed, and his eyebrows met in a frown across the bridge of his nose. "Don't do it, Gabe. Come home to me and we'll build an empire together, something that will last long after we're both gone."

  Gabe was shocked by his father's words. Before now, he had not been invited to be a real son. But it was too late now; he didn't want what Cyrus offered. "If you want to build an empire, you'll have to do it without me. I never realiz
ed it before this, but you have no family, no friends. No one to care if you live or die. You have only the men you pay to be loyal to you, and many of them have left out of fear. That can't give you much comfort in the dead of night."

  "Know this and remember it-I'll kill you if you get in my way, Gabe!"

  "I have no doubt you'll try. Consider yourself warned. Stay away from the Spanish Spur," Gabe said as he turned and walked out of the room.

  Cyrus shouted after him, "Come back here and you can have all this! Don't you walk away from me!"

  Gabe kept walking. He didn't see the dark look on Cyrus's face, or the fists that had balled at his sides.

  "No one talks to me that way," the old man said to himself. "No one!"

  It was late when Gabe arrived back at the Spanish Spur. His gaze automatically went to the main house, and in his imagination he could envision Casey curled up, soft and asleep. But he wouldn't allow his mind to go any further than that.

  He had been caught by her smile and captured by the golden laughter that spilled out of her mouth. That mouth he wanted to take with his. As he wanted to take her tempting body.

  He noticed that Kate's house was dark, and she was usually up at this hour.

  Loneliness weighed heavily on his shoulders, a feeling so dark and deep it was almost like a physical pain. It had been difficult to face his father, but he had learned something important today. There had been fear in Cyrus's eyes, and something else Gabe could not define.

  As he dismounted and led his horse to the corral, he noticed that there was a faint light coming from one of the stalls in the barn. He closed the gate and moved silently toward the light. A lantern hung from a hook, and he made his way toward it. He was surprised to see Casey sitting on scattered hay with the newborn calf he had rescued.

  She had no idea he was watching her, and he felt a little like he was invading her privacy. He would have made her aware of his presence except that he was mesmerized by the sight of her trying to entice the calf to drink from the bottle. Gabe had a feeling that he was looking into Casey's soul as her delicate hand swept up and down the calf's neck, and tears glistened in her eyes.

  "Come on," she whispered, rubbing the nipple across the animal's mouth. "You have to drink, or you will die."

  Gabe watched as her red-gold hair came alive under the glow of the lantern and framed her beautiful face. He felt a tight clenching inside his heart. He was in awe of Casey's gentleness and her love for a helpless animal. The sudden outpouring of emotion rocked his world. When he had held her and kissed her, he had trembled for an hour afterward. What he felt for her was pure and deep.

  Casey had not heard a sound, but she glanced up to find Gabe watching her. His silver eyes were shining, and he had the softest expression on his face.

  It took her a moment to find her voice. "Gabe, I'm so glad you're here. Jenny tried to feed this calf several times today, and it wouldn't eat." There was panic in her voice. "I don't know what Jenny will do if this animal dies. Can you help me?"

  He sat down beside her and took the bottle from her hand. "You know, Casey, most of the time newborns die when they have no mother."

  "This one can't!"

  He slowly began to tease the animal's mouth with the nipple. "She isn't going to take this."

  "Please try a little longer," she implored him.

  He would have done anything she asked. In that moment he wanted nothing more than for the animal to latch on to the bottle. Casey held her breath as the animal's tongue lapped out and touched the nipple. She smiled and glanced up at Gabe when the calf took it in her mouth.

  "You did it, Gabe!"

  He felt ten feet tall. He wished he could solve all her problems as easily. Soon the bottle was drained, and the animal closed its eyes to sleep. Casey gave the calf a soft pat and stood up beside Gabe.

  "I was so afraid it was going to die, and I'd have to explain to my sister what happened. Sam had to take her to the house and put her to bed because she wanted to stay with the calf all night. She's lost so many things in her young life. The death of this calf would have been devastating for her. She takes everything so hard."

  "What about you?"

  She smiled mischievously. "I have a sinister side to my character. You see, I love fried chicken, and I would have eaten it with no guilt involved."

  He grinned. "So you're not an angel. You can be tempted by fried chicken?"

  "As I said, I love fried chicken."

  His gaze swept across her face, and he reached out to take a sprig of hay from her hair. His hand lingered, touching, sifting the softness between his fingers. Then he dropped his hand while she stood there, trembling inside.

  When Gabe touched her like that, didn't he know what it did to her? But she had reached a place where his touch was not enough. She wanted so much more, even though she didn't know exactly what it was. Her face flushed, and she wondered if Gabe could guess her thoughts.

  He brushed against her arm as he stood. Then he clasped her hand, bringing her up beside him, taking care not to hurt her injury.

  "How is your shoulder?"

  She was reluctant for him to move away. "It hardly hurts at all."

  He grinned down at her. "Maybe I'm a better doctor than I thought."

  "I took your advice and had Kate look at it. She says it's healing nicely."

  "Did you tell her who dressed the wound?"

  She smiled up at him. "Yes."

  "And what did she say to that?"

  Casey laughed. 'She said she was going to go out and hurt her shoulder so you could tend her, too."

  He placed his hand over hers, wanting to touch her, hold her, be near her. "Kate is like no one else."

  Gabe was speaking words, but Casey couldn't quite catch their meaning because she was thinking about the hand that touched hers with such gentleness. She met his gaze and felt as if a swirling tide were washing toward her.

  His silver eyes were drawing her in. She was not even aware that she had moved closer to him. He clasped her hand against his chest. "Do you feel my heart beating?"

  She did. It was thundering beneath her fingertips. Her gaze went to his beautiful mouth, and she wanted to feel it pressed against hers.

  As if he could read her thoughts, Gabe brought her closer, raising her chin and slowly lowering his head. His lips were soft as they skimmed over the fullness of her mouth, savoring the caress, drawing out their mutual need. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

  Her arms slid around his shoulders in answer. He drew her closer, pressing her against him, his lips settling firmly against hers.

  The soft touch of his mouth made her insides quiver, and she pressed tightly against his thighs.

  He accommodated her by fitting her against his hard swell.

  Gabe had a deep need for Casey, but he wanted their loving to be right; he wanted to tell her everything about himself, or it wouldn't be fair to her. He raised his head and looked into her shimmering eyes. His gaze dipped to the gentle swell of breasts that begged to be cupped in his hand.

  He touched their softness in wonder and watched her eyes widen and then drift shut. He had half expected her to protest, and when she didn't, he dipped his head to touch his lips to one tempting point that pressed against the material of her gown.

  Gabe heard her sigh when he cupped the fullness of her breast in his hand and gently traced the nipple; the sound filled him with the sweetest sensation. Need, want, desire tore through him, but he kept his feelings under control. He could touch her only in this way, and only this one time, and then he had to let her go.

  Casey hadn't known the sweep of a man's hand could bring such pleasure. When he touched her like this, she wanted more. His hand drifted up her back to settle near her throat, bringing her unbelievable joy. She thought she would die if he didn't satisfy the aching need that was building inside her as he deepened the kiss. She trembled, and her knees almost buckled when his tongue parted her lips and darted inside.

  Ga
be realized that Casey trusted him as his mouth explored the silken curve of her neck. He could tell she was inexperienced, but she wanted him as much as he wanted her. He drew back so he could look into her eyes, and he saw total surrender in the blue depths.

  He needed her to fill the empty void inside him. No woman had ever touched the part of his heart that she had taken as her own. Gabe had a feeling that when he left her, he would leave behind everything that was good in him. No woman but Casey would ever satisfy the hungry need that gnawed at him.

  He also knew that he should stop before he had gone too far to turn back. It would be wrong for him to take what she offered. Her life was complicated enough without him making it worse. He was a breath away from heaven's gate, but he could not enter. He had to let her go.

  "You have never been touched this way by a man, have you?"

  Her eyes shimmered. "No. James Udall kissed me once after a ball, but it was nothing like this."

  He pressed his cheek to hers, wanting to hold her for a moment longer. "It's lucky for Mr. Udall that he isn't here right now. I'm afraid I'd have to take his head off for touching your lips." He dipped his head and pressed his mouth against hers, fitting her against his hardness. "Feel what you do to me."

  "Yes," she said, burying her face against his chest. "I do feel it."

  "Have I erased Mr. Udall's memory from your mind?" he asked in a husky voice.

  She smiled. "His kiss was nothing."

  He tilted her chin up so she had to look into his eyes. "Casey, I know what you are feeling, because I feel it too. But I was wrong to take it this far. I have more experience than you, and I took unfair advantage of your innocence."

  His words were like a dash of cold water in her face, and she drew back from him. "You didn't take advantage of me. I knew what I was doing."

  He cupped her face in his hands. He had hurt her, and the knowledge was like a knife in his heart. "Sweet Casey, I would gladly pick you up and carry you to my bed, but it isn't the right thing for you-you know that."

 

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