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The Texan's Bride
He tasted of wine—heady, delicious wine that made her dizzy. She knew he would kiss this way, completely, mindlessly and without any doubt of who was in control. The hair at his nape tickled her fingers, his broad chest felt like a wall she could always lean on for support. Her phone was still in his hand and it rubbed her back in a soothing erotic way. His other hand pressed her closer to his male frame, and she experienced his all-consuming power.
Just when she thought her feet would leave the ground and she’d float around in outer space from the sheer pleasure, he eased his lips to her cheek, to her forehead.
“Let’s go home,” he whispered in a throaty voice.
She breathed in the heady scent of him, the wine. The moonlight spilled its magic rays upon them and she wanted to explore these feelings, but she also knew she wasn’t ready. She needed time to get to know him. Would he understand?
“I’m hungry,” she murmured.
“Me, too.” He kissed her forehead and her resolve weakened.
She played with a button on his shirt. “I’m hungry for food.”
“Jessie,” he groaned.
“You ate. I didn’t.”
He took a step backward and the heat of summer stung her skin—skin that he’d refreshed with his male touch. She felt bereft, wanting his body against hers again. Why was she hesitating? She wanted more than a sexual relationship. She wanted love and trust along with the intimacy. She wanted a marriage that would last a lifetime.
To ease her erratic thoughts, she picked up her purse from the ground where she’d dropped it when she’d stumbled. Her hair fell forward and she flipped it back.
He handed her the cell and stared. The moonlight seemed to draw them closer and closer, not physically, but emotionally. He understood. Taking her hand, he led her into the restaurant. “These people are going to think we’re nuts.”
She laughed and it eased all the doubts in her mind. They needed moments like this to build a foundation for a real marriage.
The lady at the entrance looked surprised and the waiter raised a questioning eyebrow since they were seated at the same table. But being a professional, he asked politely, “Would you like something to drink?”
“Iced tea,” Cadde replied, hooking his hat on a chair.
“Me, too,” Jessie added. “And I’ll have the alfredo again with a house salad.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The waiter walked away with a curious expression.
Laughter bubbled inside her.
“Don’t laugh,” Cadde said, as he noticed her struggle to contain her amusement. “He has a right to think we’re insane.”
She unfolded her napkin. “Don’t start again. This evening is about us getting to know each other.”
“I certainly know a lot more about you. You’re as stubborn as Roscoe.”
She bit her tongue to keep sharp words from escaping. Patience was not her forte, but tonight she would try. Just as well the waiter returned with a tray. He placed iced tea on a napkin and a salad in front of her and then served Cadde’s drink.
“Thank you,” she said, and the waiter walked away with a slight smile.
Soft music played in the background. She hadn’t noticed that earlier, but now it seemed to intensify the romantic mood. Picking up her fork, she was determined they’d have a normal conversation, even though she knew she was stepping on some forbidden ground.
“How old were you when your parents died?”
Cadde was staring at his Stetson, but her soft voice drew his undivided attention. Well, partially. He was reeling from the kiss. The off-limits signs were no longer in his head. Jessie had completely demolished them with her passion. He still tasted her lipstick—tasted her. He’d always thought of Jessie as unemotional because she was cool, businesslike. He was wrong—again. Now he was learning about Jessie the hard way—shock after shock. Her lips, her touch he would remember for a long time.
He moved uncomfortably. “I was sixteen.” Running his thumb across the rim of the glass, he felt its dampness, its coolness. This wasn’t an easy subject for him to talk about, but he couldn’t continue to stare at the glass or his hat. He had to share. That’s what Jessie wanted. It was time to open the door he kept firmly locked. He wrestled with his thoughts.
“We…were in Austin at the state basketball championship for our district and Kid and I played on the team. Kid was almost fifteen but tall for his age so the coach let him play cause we needed another player. High Cotton had never gone that far in the play-offs and we were determined to win, which we did by one point. We were riding a wave of excitement and someone sneaked beer onto the bus—well, everyone knew it was Kid. He never said how he got it and I didn’t want to know. The coach fell asleep in the front seat and the driver’s attention was on the road. We celebrated all the way home.”
He gripped the cold glass. “When we reached the school, the principal was waiting for Kid and me. We thought it was because of the beer. He took us to the gym and Aunt Etta, Uncle Rufus and Chance were there. Chance had a bruise on his face and arm and his clothes were dirty. The moment I saw him I knew something was terribly wrong.” He took a swallow of tea to cool the heated emotions inside him.
“Our aunt put her arms around us, and said, ‘Boys, your parents died tonight.’ The world we knew suddenly ended. The high of the win was replaced with a gut-wrenching low. We stood there holding on to each other until Dane Belle walked in.”
“I’m so sorry.” As she placed her hand on his forearm, his eyes were drawn to her long slim fingers. He wasn’t sure what to say and all he could feel was her soothing comfort. He never talked about this to anyone but his brothers.
“Who’s Dane Belle?” she asked, and that broke the headlock on his emotions.
“The owner of the High Five ranch and the nicest man you’d ever want to meet. Aunt Etta, my dad’s sister, and Uncle Rufus worked for him. He moved us into my aunt and uncle’s house, which is on High Five. Dane was there to help us every step of the way. He literally stepped into our dad’s shoes.”
She removed her hand to continue eating and he felt a moment of disappointment. He was the strong one, never needing anyone’s comfort, but her soft supportive touch got to him.
“I can’t imagine anyone taking Daddy’s place.” She pushed the salad aside as the waiter brought her entrée.
“He didn’t replace him. He just filled this big empty void in me, Kid and Chance.” Leaning back, he fiddled with the napkin and the words seem to gush out of him like one of his oil wells when they hit pure Texas gold. “You’d have to know Dane to understand. He was a gambler, a drinker, but he had a big heart that he gave to everyone. He never met a stranger and he made the Hardin boys feel right at home. We spent all our holidays with them. Chance still does. Kid and I have a harder time getting home. We always seem to be hundreds of miles away.”
“Does Dane have children?”
“Oh, yeah.” He took another swallow of tea. “Three beautiful daughters by three different mothers. Dane was also a ladies’ man, a charmer, sort of like Kid.”
“No one is like Kid.” She lifted an eyebrow. “So you grew up with his daughters?”
“Yeah. We lived down the road from High Five and then we relocated to their backyard. Summers were fun because all the girls were home.”
“What do you mean?”
“Caitlyn was raised on the ranch because her mother died in childbirth. Madison and Skylar lived with their mothers. There was a clause in the divorce papers that Dane got the girls during the summer and Christmas, that way their lives weren’t disrupted during the school year.” He felt a smile tug at his lips. “I’m surprised Kid survived those summers because the sisters knocked him for more loops than I can count. He was always teasing and picking on them. We usually baled hay in the summer and the girls were always there, even though Dane and Miss Dorie, their grandmother, didn’t want them to be. They wanted them to be proper ladies.” Cadde suppressed a laugh. “You’d have to meet them to understand that one. Caitlyn is bossy and responsible. She tried her damnedest to be the boy Dane had always wanted. Madison is like a lollipop—she’s so sweet you just want to lick her, which Kid has done on more than one occasion. And Skylar, well, she’s the wild sister, the one Dane worried about the most. They certainly kept Dane on his toes.”
Cadde leaned back as memories seemed to grip him. “After baling hay under a hot Texas sun, we’d pull off our hats, boots and shirts and jump into Crooked Creek to cool off. Sometimes the girls would join us. One time Kid dove in and snuck up behind Caitlyn and pinched her butt. She slapped him and he sank like a rock. We thought she’d killed him. We kept diving trying to find him, even Dane got in the water. Kid came up downstream, laughing. Caitlyn chased him all the way to the barn. He hid from her for two days.”
“Sounds as if you had a happy life on High Five.”
“Yeah.” He twisted his glass, knowing Dane and the sisters had given them a reason to keep going, to keep living. “I still miss Dane.”
“He passed away?”
“His drinking finally got him.”
There was silence for a moment.
“You haven’t said anything about your parents.”
Glancing up, he saw her gazing at him with dark, concerned eyes. While he’d been talking, she’d finished eating. “That’s not an easy subject.”
He could feel the gusher of words being capped, his throat closing. Then she laid her hand on his arm again and her gentle touch freed his emotions.
“Dad said they were high school sweethearts and married after graduation. They were happy…”
“They weren’t.”
“What?”
“I’d rather talk about Dane and the sisters. Those are good memories. My parents…”
She squeezed his arm. “What happened?”
He could do this. He could handle anything. From somewhere deep inside him he heard the word liar. Talking about his parents was something he didn’t do, except with his brothers. They understood. Jessie wanted him to talk, to share. Could he?
She rubbed his arm and it eased the grip on his throat, and the words came gushing out once again. “My…dad…is the reason I’m in the oil business. He preached education and how we should be bosses, not roughnecks. He taught us family values and about trust and faith, but in the end it was all a lie.”
“Why?”
“Seems my dad told my mom he was leaving her. It had just happened and all that kind of stuff. My mother wanted to know who the woman was, and he wouldn’t tell her. She started hitting him and he lost control of the car.” He swallowed. “On the biggest night of his young sons’ lives we were going to come home to find that our father had left us. I thought he’d meet us at the gym and he’d tell us how proud he was. Instead, we came home to find that our father had really left us…for good.”
Both her hands gripped his arm. “Cadde, I’m sorry.”
The waiter poured more tea and removed the plates. “Would you like dessert?” he asked.
“No, thanks,” Jessie replied.
“My mother didn’t deserve that,” Cadde murmured as if the waiter hadn’t interrupted them. “She was the nicest person.”
The words had come from a deep personal well inside him and Cadde thought he’d done enough sharing. “How about your mother?”
Jessie removed her hands and folded them in her lap. “I never knew her.”
“Not ever?”
“She left when I was a baby. Whenever I asked about her, Daddy would say that she left us and I had him. That was all I needed.”
“But you know who she is?”
She fidgeted in her chair. “I didn’t until I was older and snuck into Dad’s study and found my birth certificate.” She paused. “Her name is Angela Martinez.”
The spotlight was now turned on her, and by the thinning of her lips Cadde knew she didn’t like it. Sharing was hard for her, too.
“And?” he persisted.
“Okay.” She reached for her tea glass and took a swallow. “I called every Martinez in the Houston phone book, and believe me, there were a lot. I found a lot of kind people, but not my mother.”
“Did Roscoe know you did this?”
Her eyes darkened. “I would never hurt him like that.” She placed her napkin on the table. “I just wanted to talk to her.”
“About what?”
“I was fifteen. I didn’t have a plan.” She cocked a dark eyebrow. “Are you trying to make me angry?”
“Not intentionally.”
“Good.” She took another sip of tea.
He watched her. “But you do get a little heated when you talk about your mother.”
Her eyes narrowed to slits of fire and he knew a whole lot of stubborn was coming his way.
“Have you ever asked Rosa about her?” He tried to sidetrack her.
“Rosa and Felix didn’t come to work for us until after Crissy was kidnapped.” Her temper seemed to cool instantly.
“I didn’t realize that.”
“I’d had a normal childhood until then. Crissy and I were like sisters. Aunt Helen would take us to school and to our ballet and soccer classes. Life was fun. Suddenly it all changed.”
Dark emotions clouded her face and he wanted to comfort her in some way, but he wasn’t good at that. “You lived in Houston at that time?” he found himself asking.
She nodded. “Two blocks from Crissy. The kidnapper came in through her window and carried her away to his car. The police said that’s when she woke up and started to fight. She scratched his face and his hands. While he was trying to restrain her he broke her neck.” Jessie took a deep breath. “He stuffed her into a culvert at the end of the street and covered her with leaves. It was two days before they found her.”
“I’m sorry, Jessie,” was all he could say, and it seemed to be enough.
“Life became hell. Daddy carried a gun and hired Rosa and Felix to watch me. Felix had a gun, too. Daddy took me out of school and hired a tutor. I never went back.”
“But you went to college.”
She tossed her long hair over her shoulder. “Now that was a fight.”
Knowing her and Roscoe’s temperaments, he could imagine. “You won.”
“In a way.” She shrugged. “The college had to be up north where no one had ever heard of Roscoe Murdock, and the guards had to go with me. It was difficult to make friends with big, burly guys hanging around, but I managed. I missed Daddy, Rosa, Felix and Myra so much. I’d never admit it, though.”
“Never,” he joked.
She made a face at him.
The warm vibes stoked a flame deep in his groin. He cleared his throat. “Myra is Rosa and Felix’s daughter?”
“Yes. She works for Houston’s district attorney’s office, a very tough lawyer.” Her face became thoughtful. “I can see what you meant about Dane now. Myra is two years older than me and she sort of took Crissy’s place. She was someone to play with, talk to, share secrets and giggle with. She’s my very best friend.”
He was glad she had Myra so she could vent her frustrations. He had Kid. A fight with Kid spiked his blood pressure more than a five-mile run. And Kid knew him better than anyone.
“Sadly, though—” she was saying “—no matter how much I told Daddy I could take care of myself, he never lost that fear of someone kidnapping me.”
“I know.”
Her eyes caught his. “That’s why I’m married to you.”
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