Texan's Irish Bride

by Clemmons, Caroline

  More? Hell, he should have stayed in that trance.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Dallas wanted to shout at Cenora, to yell for her to leave him alone and make sure her wild family did the same. But he’d been taught better than to treat any woman that way, let alone his own wife.

  “Okay, let’s go to the office.”

  Feeling three times his age, he headed back into the house. None of her family was in sight. When Cenora and he were seated, him at his desk and her across from him, she took a deep, shuddering breath.

  “I’ve talked this over with Kathryn, and she told me what to say. But you’ll not be blaming her, for ‘tis me who’s the cause.”

  Kathryn? Had his aunt who’d treated him like her own son turned against him? What next? “Go ahead.”

  “Don’t be looking at me like you’re the lion and I’m the rabbit.”

  Damn, she pushed his patience to the limit. “Cenora—”

  She held up a hand. “Aye, aye, you’re right and I’ll get on with it. Weel, ‘tis about Rosa.”

  “And?”

  She gave a lengthy explanation of Rosa tending Reno and her short words for Cenora. “And she hasn’t set foot in the house all the time you’ve been gone and then sick.”

  “Did you know Reno is her brother? His full name is Pacho Moreno.”

  She gasped. “No one told me, but ‘tis no reason for her being so mean. ‘Tis me home now, and that makes me her mistress, does it not? But she said she doesn’t have to pay me any mind, only do as you tell her.”

  Dallas hated this conversation. Rosa came with Xavier, and Dallas had no wish to lose his foreman. “I can talk to her.”

  Suddenly, he remembered telling Xavier almost the same thing about his wife. He should have handled that differently, but at the time he’d been mad as hell at Mac and worried about the meanness going on.

  Cenora stood. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Am I your wife or not?”

  Dallas almost said he wished he knew. He walked on mighty shaky ground here, so he took a deep breath before he answered. “You are, but Rosa’s been here a long time. She came to work here the first week I moved into the place. My folks have known her and Xavier a long time.”

  She placed her hands at her hips. “Dallas, either people recognize me as your wife, or I may as well stay in our room and be nothing but your doxie. I’m asking you again. Do I run this house or does Rosa?”

  Put that way, he had only one answer. “You do.”

  “Then you must tell her so, as well as everyone else.” Tears pooled in her eyes, but she raised her chin and held her ground. “‘Tis sorry I am again for giving away the wrong horse, but I acted me best. Mayhap I’ll make other mistakes as well, but I’m trying me hardest to be a good wife.”

  He couldn’t talk about the horse right now, he was still too angry. A nod appeased her.

  “While you were away I’ve been doing the work o’ a housekeeper, nursing Ma, and working in the barn. I’m not complaining about that part, though I wouldn’t turn down a little help in the house.”

  He frowned. Rosa should have helped out some, he knew that much.

  Cenora took a deep breath, and he thought her lips trembled, but she kept her chin up and met his gaze. “What I’m saying to you is that I want the respect due the wife o’ a fine man like yourself.”

  Respect? Hell, he had fought his entire life for respect and where had that gotten him? “Cenora, please understand. Xavier is the best foreman around. I count on him and don’t want to lose him.”

  “And I’m just a bother to you, is that it?

  Damn right, and her family as well.

  Then he remembered the pleasure it brought him to see her waiting when he came in all tired after working hard. Her smile eased his fatigue, her silly giggle lightened his mood. Their lovemaking saved his soul from despair.

  Dallas exhaled, releasing a part of his pent up anger. “You know that’s not what I mean. I’m only saying that if Rosa is angry, then Xavier may leave to keep her happy.”

  “Akh, I’m thinking he doesn’t want to lose his job. Do you not know what good wages you pay and how well liked you are with the men who work for you?”

  The first positive words he’d heard today helped further cool his ire. “No, I hoped, but I didn’t know.”

  He resigned himself to a talk with Rosa—eventually. “I’ll talk to her if that’s what you want.” He should have talked to her himself when Xavier warned him the first time of trouble in his household.

  Cenora crossed her arms. “No, that won’t do. We should see her together. I want her to know I’ve heard what you say. She must see that we stand together, you and I, and that I’m to be treated that way.”

  He saw she had a point. Maybe he should have handled this whole thing differently when Rosa complained. How was he to know? Damn, his life grew more and more complicated every day.

  “And what if she doesn’t want to work here any more?”

  She raised her chin. “Many women would like the job. ‘Tis a fine house.”

  “All right. We’ll talk to her together.”

  Cenora rushed around the desk and took his hand. “Let’s see her now.”

  Hell.

  They looked in the bunkhouse. Reno and Fred sat mending harness. Dallas asked after their health and spoke a few sentences to each man.

  Cenora clung to his hand all the while. He figured he might as well get this talk thing over with. “Rosa been here today?”

  A speculative gleam appeared in Fred’s eyes. “Reckon she’ll be here directly to change Reno’s dressings.”

  “Well, you boys take it easy, and we’ll look in on you later.” Dallas nodded and guided his wife outside.

  Xavier stood on the porch of the foreman’s house lighting one of the thin cheroots he favored.

  Dallas had rather take a beating than do this, but he figured Cenora had a point. “We’ve come to talk to Rosa, and I suppose you might as well hear what we have to say.”

  Xavier opened the door for them, and they stepped into the foyer. Dallas hadn’t been here over three or four times in two years. The small house included a parlor, large kitchen, small dining room, and two bedrooms. It had been the Marstson’s home until the large house was built twenty years ago, but he’d bought paint for it when he painted the larger ranch house.

  Xavier closed the door. “Rosa, we have guests.”

  Rosa rushed in from the kitchen, and her eyes widened when she saw Dallas and Cenora. “Señor Dallas, it is good you are recovered from your illness.” Apparently they’d interrupted her while she washed dishes. She removed her apron and set it aside with a dishtowel.

  Xavier looked at his wife then back to Dallas. “Señor Dallas, Señora, please seat yourselves.”

  He and Cenora sat together on the sofa. Oh, damn, he might as well get on with it. “Rosa, is there a misunderstanding between you and my wife?”

  “No, I know of no such thing.” Rosa looked everywhere but at him or her husband.

  Beside him, Cenora gasped, but he squeezed her hand.

  “Perhaps you’re tired of working as housekeeper when you have your own home to care for?”

  Rosa widened her eyes. “No, no, Señor Dallas.”

  “Why have you stayed away while I was gone and ill?”

  Xavier looked at his wife. “What is this?”

  “I had to care for Reno.” She looked at her hands.

  Xavier’s voice rose. “Rosa, you did not tell me you stayed with Reno and did not go to Señor Dallas’s house as you are supposed to.”

  Dallas squeezed Cenora’s hand. “See, that’s the thing, Xavier. It’s not just my house any longer. It also belongs to my wife, and she can see to running it as she sees fit. Rosa, that means that if you want to be the housekeeper here, you take orders from my wife as well as from me.”

  “Her?” Rosa fairly spat her words. “She knows nothing of a fine house. She lived like a—a gypsy in
a crazy wagon.”

  Xavier stepped toward his wife. “Rosa, you will apologize. Now.”

  But Rosa spoke as if to some unseen person in the room’s corner. “It was as if it was my house until she came. All day I shined it and kept it perfect. I cooked whatever I chose. Now, finally the house is filled with nice things, but it is because she and her family are here. She tells me do this or do that when I was here first.”

  Dallas hated hearing this woman he had counted a friend talk so rudely about Cenora. “Rosa, when Cenora and I married, she became the boss of my home. What she says about the house goes.”

  Dallas figured Xavier would tell them to go to hell and the ranch would be out of a foreman.

  But Xavier stood in front of his wife. “Rosa, what have you done? Are you trying to get me fired? Do you want us to lose our pretty casita and have to move away?”

  Sullen, Rosa only shook her head.

  Xavier turned and sank to a chair. “Señor Dallas, Señora. My deep apologies. When Rosa tells me she is unhappy, I did not want to say anything. Then she threatened to leave and go to her mamacita’s so I agreed to talk to you. Dios mio, I see now it is her own jealousy which makes her unhappy.”

  Cenora rose and stepped forward. “Sure and ‘tis right she is I knew nothing of keeping a fine home, for I’d only lived in a wee cottage in Ireland. Then, we were cast out o’ our home and feared having no place atall to live. These last ten years, we were that glad o’ the wagons.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at Dallas. “But me husband’s good aunt showed me what I’m to do each day, and I’ll do it as well as I can. Ma’s not fit for anything but mending, but the rest o’ me family are doing their part.”

  She shrugged. “Weel, Mac’s a problem, but he’s a job in town. But that’s no part o’ this. Rosa, I thank you for being kind to Ma. But I needed a friend and help easing me way as a wife, and you denied it to me.”

  Touching as Cenora’s speech had been, it answered no questions. Dallas stood beside his wife. “Rosa, whether or not you work for Cenora and me has nothing to do with Xavier’s job. You don’t ever have to set foot in our home again unless you want to. Do you want to continue as housekeeper for my wife and me?”

  Rosa frowned and glared at Cenora. “Sí.”

  “You know you’ll have to do things my wife’s way?”

  Rosa pouted. “But, Señor Dallas—”

  Xavier shot his wife a look that would wilt a forest.

  Rosa took a deep breath. “Sí.”

  Cenora stepped in front of Rosa, forcing her to meet his wife’s eyes. “Will you be coming today?”

  Still sullen, Rosa nodded. “Sí, I will be there soon to prepare your dinner. First I must look after Reno’s wounds.”

  Xavier touched his wife’s arm. “And there will be no more problems from you.” Apparently, he spoke it as a statement and not as a question.

  Rosa nodded again.

  Xavier walked them to the door but remained behind, probably to speak further with Rosa. Dallas walked his own wife back to their house. When they were in the kitchen, she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

  Her sweet mouth opened for him, and he lost himself in her touch. When they broke the kiss, she looked up at him and smiled.

  “Thank you for making me your wife in front o’ Rosa and Xavier. It means the world to me.”

  How could she look sweet and a temptress at the same time? Reluctantly, he pushed her from him.

  “Going to get my horse back.” He turned and walked from the house. He stalked out to the barn, wondering how he could explain the mix up to Bateman and have any hope to recover Cyclone.

  Seven hours later, he and Finn rode into the yard.

  “I thought you’d do it.” Finn dismounted and led his mount to the barn.

  Dallas followed with Red and Cyclops. “The man knew he’d been given the wrong horse. He cheated by his silence then and doubly so when he refused to trade now.”

  “A terrible man he was and didn’t he have harsh words for you. Why did he use ‘half breed’ as if he spoke curse words?”

  “They are to most. Not many people like Indians, even a peaceful man who’s half one.”

  Finn nodded. “Aye, ‘tis the same with the Irish. We’re not liked in our own country and ‘tis not much better here.” He rubbed Cyclop’s nose. “I know you’re that sad about losing your brood mare and her foal, but this is a good mare also. Look at her. A run there and back and she looks none the worse for her trip.”

  Dallas ran his hands down Cyclops neck. She didn’t look as if she’d run for six or seven hours. “True, but I regret ever selling to that bastard Bateman, and I’ll not let him take another mare of mine no matter what the price. A man with a temper like his is apt to take it out on his animals.”

  “He threatened me sister ‘til Da showed up with his rifle.”

  “What?” Dallas whirled on Finn. “She didn’t tell me that. I’d have dealt differently with him if I’d known he frightened her. If I had the money I’d buy Cyclone back.”

  “His other mares are fit and well cared for. ‘Tis my thinking she’ll be fine as well.”

  They saw to their horses and Cyclops, then heard the dogs barking. Dallas and Finn walked to see who came to call. When Dallas saw the buggy, he silenced the dogs.

  “Hey, Grandpa. How’re you doing?”

  Victor McClintock climbed down and swung an arm around his grandson. “Good to see you looking fit again. Never saw a body stare off without blinking like you did.”

  “I’m over it now. Come into the house and sit a spell.”

  Apparently Cenora and Ma had been walking and waited on the front porch. Cenora held the door open. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Wouldn’t turn it down.” Grandpa hugged Cenora’s shoulders and nodded at Ma. “Nice to see everyone’s feeling better, Aoife.”

  They ended up seated around the dining table sharing a cream cake Cenora had made yesterday. Mac was off on his painting, but Finn joined them, and Da came in from the garden.

  “Great cooking, granddaughter.” Grandpa scooped a last bite from his plate and looked at Dallas. “You making any headway with Dominion?”

  “He’s ready. Come out and take a look.” Dallas pushed away from the table.

  Da also stood. “You’ll excuse us if Finn and I don’t join you. ‘Tis a busy time for the garden, and there’s a fine Irish saying, ‘You’ll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind.’ We saw rain clouds building in the west and must hurry.”

  They left, but Grandpa stepped back in alone and handed Cenora a folded paper. “I brought this invite to Zarelda’s tea for next week.”

  Excitement coursed through Cenora. “A tea?” Finally, she’d see how settled folks lived. What would she wear, how should she do her hair?

  “As a present to welcome you, Zarelda’s seamstress will be here tomorrow to fit you and make you and Aoife each dresses for socializing with my wife’s friends.”

  “Thank you, but ‘tisn’t necessary. I’m that good with a needle meself.”

  “Think of it as a gift to welcome you to our family.” He patted her hand and hurried out to join Dallas.

  Cenora unfolded the paper. Fancy writing. She couldn’t make out the words. She’d have to have help from Dallas.

  “Ma, did you hear? We’re invited to a tea, and we’ll have new dresses to wear.”

  “Akh, sure and that woman doesn’t like us a bit. She made it clear enough we don’t measure up. I’m that surprised she bothered to include either o’ us.”

  “Mayhap she intends to make things right with her grandson. ‘Tis time.”

  That evening at supper, Cenora showed Dallas the invitation. He read it aloud. “Tea’s next week. Wednesday afternoon at two at my grandparents’ place.” He laid the paper on the table and frowned. “This surprises me. If Grandpa hadn’t brought it, I wouldn’t believe she invited you.”

  Cenora’
s heart plummeted. “You don’t want me to go?”

  He touched her hand. “You can do whatever you wish, angel. But remember that Gran is the biggest snob in the county. I don’t want you hurt or embarrassed.”

  A woman who’d not accept her own grandson wouldn’t be likely to accept his common wife and her family. Cenora recalled the way Dallas’s grandmother had acted the day she came with the furniture. She’d sat in her chair and reigned like a queen on a throne. In spite of that, Cenora wanted to go, to experience the fineries of settled life.

  “You don’t think she’ll be rude to Ma?” She’d never want to place Ma in position to be hurt.

  “Not outright, not in front of her fancy friends. She’ll be nice.” His sorrowful eyes told of past sad experiences of his own. “Like poison that’s added to taffy.”

  Cenora’s heart ached for the pain she saw in her husband. She couldn’t remember her own grandparents, but sure and hadn’t she’d heard tales of their love and sacrifices for their family? What lack caused a woman to turn her back on her own blood?

  ****

  “Hold still, Mrs. McClintock, so I can get this right.” The dressmaker and her helper had shown up at mid morning the day after Grandpa’s visit.

  Never had Cenora seen such beautiful fabric. Bolts of it littered the parlor along with boxes of trims and shoes. She touched a fold of the skirt the dressmaker had said was silk peau de soie. “It looks like silver.”

  “A lovely foil for your hair for the evening and the turquoise will be perfect for afternoon. Now, let’s slip this off and fit the green one for the tea.”

  Cenora stepped from one dress into the next. “I wish Grandpa hadn’t insisted on green for me. Mayhap he doesn’t know it’s unlucky.”

  The seamstress laughed. “Sorry, ma’am, but this dress is only unlucky for the other women in the room. You’ll be the loveliest woman there.”

  “Sure and ‘tis kind you are to say so.” But Cenora worried. Having a fancy dress didn’t mean she knew how to talk or act fancy, did it? Put silk on a goat and it’s still a goat.

  Cenora rose early on the day of the tea. Everything had to be perfect—her hair, her dress, and she’d help Ma get ready as well.