Be My Texas Valentine (14 page)

“I’ll get my daughter in line. You just stick to our plan,” Devlin Spencer urged. “Rue Ann will come around.”

“And what if she doesn’t?” Theodore asked.

“She will. I know how to handle her.”

Rue Ann stopped dead in her tracks. What bargain were they talking about? It sounded like Theodore had an arrangement of some sort with her father and it involved marrying her.

The knots in her stomach tightened.

“You just go back to town and take care of things there, Greely. And for the love of Pete, quit fighting with my daughter. Marry her first before you lay down the law and tell her how things are going to be. That’s how men handle these things.”

Theodore murmured something Rue Ann couldn’t hear. Not wanting to face him, she backed away from the study door and returned to the kitchen. A few minutes later she heard the front door open and close.

She waited until she deemed it safe to venture out before she headed back to the study for the intended talk with her father. After what she’d overheard, it was more imperative than ever.

Again she heard voices as she neared the room. Her mother’s sharp tone reeked of disapproval. “Have you lost your mind? Rue Ann will find out what you did, make no mistake about it. One of us needs to tell her before she finds out from someone else.”

Devlin Spencer scoffed. “No one else knows besides the two of us and Cutter. And Cutter will keep his mouth shut if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Are you so sure?”

“Of Cutter or of you, Jenny? Are you threatening to cross me and go to Rue Ann with the truth? I’ll make you regret it if you do. Just remember who you’re dealing with.”

“As though I could ever forget.” Deep sadness laced Jenny Spencer’s brittle words. Rue Ann ached for the woman who’d given her life. She heard her mother’s misery and wished she could change it somehow. “I won’t be the one to break our daughter’s heart. But just remember this ... the truth always finds a way to rise to the surface. I’d have thought you’d learned that from your years in the Texas Senate.”

“In politics, a man has to do what he thinks best. As a father, I do what I must no matter how ugly the chore.”

Tears sprang to Rue Ann’s eyes. That her father could be so ruthless concerning his own flesh and blood drove an arrow into her chest.

She clenched her jaw and vowed to find out what secrets Devlin Spencer kept from her.

Chapter 6

On the first Saturday of February, Logan sauntered through the center of Shiloh on his horse with Sheba walking alongside. He was extremely pleased with his morning.

He now belonged to the Texas Cattle Raiser’s Association. His chest swelled.

With the recent purchase of a sizable herd of longhorn, he’d gone a long way in proving he was a man. His father’s words didn’t sting as much as they once had. Logan just wished his father could’ve lived to see what he’d done with his life. His father probably wouldn’t have actually said he was proud of his son, but maybe the harsh lines of his face would’ve softened some. The senior Mr. Cutter had been as hard-nosed as they came, though.

Logan couldn’t ever remember getting a kind word or as much as a pat on the back from his strict father. He wouldn’t have minded it as much if Zachary Cutter had treated Logan’s mother with the love and respect she richly deserved. His mother was a saint for putting up with Zachary’s mean streak.

A lump as big as a tree stump blocked Logan’s windpipe. He missed his mother’s sweet smile and gentle voice. He sighed and shook himself. The past was over and done with. Wishing things could’ve been different or easier would change nothing.

Life was what you made it. A man did the best he could.

He pulled his hat low on his forehead and straightened in the saddle.

He belonged to the Texas Cattle Raiser’s Association. A big grin formed. He kept telling himself it wasn’t a dream.

When Logan drew even with Widow Simpson’s laundry, Theodore stormed out, his face mottled with anger. Sheba growled deep in her throat. The dog sure didn’t like Teddy. And for good reason.

A dozen or so pink shirts filled Theodore Greely’s arms.

“Just see if I bring you any more laundry!” he yelled at Mrs. Simpson, who stood in the doorway. “You ruined them, ruined them all. What am I supposed to do with pink shirts?”

“I don’t know what happened, Mr. Greely,” Mrs. Simpson said. “I don’t know how that pair of red long johns got in with your white shirts. I’ve always been so careful. Please tell me what I can do to keep your business.”

“I won’t be back. And I’m telling all my friends—”

What friends?
Logan wondered. And besides, this was the only laundry in town. Teddy had no choice except to return or clean his own clothes.

Just then Theodore spied Logan. “You did this! I don’t know how but you did,” he accused.

Sheba would’ve lunged for the weasel if Logan hadn’t calmed the dog down with firm orders.

Logan pulled back on the reins and slowly dismounted. “What’s the matter, Teddy? Someone make you look like the fool you are? If you’re accusing me of something, don’t hold back, spit it out. Before you do, though, just know that I’ve been out at the ranch until I had to come to town for a Texas Cattle Raiser’s Association meeting.”

“You try every way in the world to belittle me not only in front of Rue Ann but the whole blamed town. The only white shirt I own is the old one I’m wearing, and it’s destined for a rag bin. And then I found out the mercantile is sold out and won’t get in another shipment until next month.” The man threw his pink shirts on the ground and stomped them. “I refuse to get married in a pink shirt.”

Mrs. Simpson ran from the laundry. “Mr. Greely, get a hold of yourself. Throwing a temper fit won’t do a lick of good.”

Just then Logan saw the Barlow sisters sneaking around the building into the alley. He smothered a laugh before it could escape.

Those sly sisters! Suddenly he knew exactly what was afoot. The two spinsters had spoken frankly about their dislike for the pair, and they were trying to see how far they could push them. Especially Greely. Making him call off the wedding had to be their ultimate goal. What with Celeste’s episode in the outhouse a few days ago and now Greely’s unfortunate mishap, it seemed their plan might be working. One thing Logan was sure of—no part of it was accidental.

He wondered what the Misses Emily and Charlotte’s next move would be.

On Sunday, Rue Ann was on her way home from church in the buggy. She was busy mulling over what her mother and father were keeping from her. She hadn’t yet found an opportunity to confront them. Each time she tried, something always interfered, much to her frustration.

All of a sudden she came upon an animal sitting in the middle of the road with a red ribbon around its neck. The long-haired reddish pooch, of the retriever variety unless she missed her guess, seemed lost.

She quickly pulled back on the reins and climbed from the buggy. Reaching the animal, she knelt down. Surprise rippled through her. She recognized it as being the dog Logan had rescued from town and taken to his ranch. But the red ribbon stumped her. It didn’t sound like the Logan she once loved with all her heart to go around tying ribbons to animals’ necks.

“How did you get here, girl?” She glanced around for Logan but failed to see him.

What she did notice were the heavy gray clouds and a smell of rain in the air. She prayed the storm held off until she got safely indoors.

Just then another buggy barreled around the bend and slid to an abrupt stop. How unlike the spry Barlow spinsters to be so far from town. But remembering back to the church service, she couldn’t recall seeing them. That had been rather odd also. The sisters rarely missed a Sunday.

“Hello, ladies. Taking a leisurely Sunday drive?”

“Oh goodness no,” answered Charlotte. “The Williamsons invited us to lunch, so that’s where we’re headed.”

“What do you suppose Mr. Cutter’s dog is doing out here?” asked Miss Emily.

It vaguely occurred to Rue Ann how the two women knew the dog belonged to Logan. Strange to say the least.

“The poor thing seems lost.” Rue Ann couldn’t resist the pitiful whine and the luminous brown eyes that seemed to look right into the depths of her soul. She lifted the dog into her arms and stood. “Someone will have to take her back to her owner. I don’t suppose you ladies would volunteer?”

Rue Ann had worked so hard to avoid Logan. If she were to ride to his ranch, she’d have to speak to him, and that would lead to him grilling her on matters she’d put behind her. Or else he’d try to convince her that marrying Theodore was all wrong. She preferred not having to defend herself.

Miss Charlotte patted a stray wisp of silver hair back into place. “We’d love to, dear, but we’re late. We’re afraid we’ll have to dump the chore in your lap.”

Rats! Well, maybe she could just let the dog out at Logan’s gate and leave without seeing him.

“You ladies enjoy your lunch.” She put the dog in her buggy and waved good-bye.

About a mile from the Cutter ranch the skies opened and a regular old gullywasher commenced. Though the rig had a top over it, it was small and the wind blew sheets of rain right up underneath, drenching Rue Ann.

Everything appeared quiet as she turned onto the property. Maybe Logan wasn’t home. Maybe he’d gone to town. She looked at the pretty dog that would soon be a mother. Maybe he’d gone out looking for the dog. He cared so deeply about all living things.

Except her.

Why had he decided that money was more important than their love? Tears lurked behind her eyes.

Through the rain, she noticed the fenced pasture that held over a hundred head of longhorn unless she missed her guess. An ache formed in her chest and grew until she could no longer breathe. It seemed Mr. Logan Cutter had done quite well for himself ... all with her daddy’s money, most likely.

Her father must still be paying him to stay away from her. In the conversation she’d overheard, he’d told her mother that only three people knew the truth.

What truth?

It didn’t pertain to the money her father had given Logan not to marry her because she knew about that. No, it was something different. But it involved Cutter.

She couldn’t get the conversation out of her head. Her mother had warned Devlin that the truth always rose to the top despite efforts to keep it suppressed. She wearily wiped the rain from her face, which did no good in the downpour. Life used to be so simple.

Those days were gone, quite possibly for good.

Rue Ann set the brake and was about to climb down when a horse came alongside. The dog yipped and leaped from the seat. Rue Ann looked up.

Logan.

Her heart sank. Fate had played a dirty trick on her.

“I see you found Sheba.” He dismounted and greeted the happy dog.

“She was about a half mile from Bent Tree. I have no idea how she got so far from your ranch. Has she run off before?”

Water poured from his hat in rivulets. “She usually stays close by since she’ll have her pups any minute now. Thank you for rescuing her. Come into the house and dry off.”

Rue Ann looked longingly at the sturdy shelter he offered. “I really must be going.”

“Don’t be foolish, Rue Ann. Looks like this storm has settled down on top of us. You’re soaked.” A smile deepened the creases at the corners of his mouth. “It’s the least I can do to properly thank you for bringing my dog home.”

Just then a jagged lightning bolt split the sky. Seconds later a huge clap of thunder vibrated the air and shook the ground. That settled it. She had no choice. She’d have to accept his hospitality.

“I can’t leave my horse out here in the storm,” she finally replied.

“Pull the buggy into the barn around back. I’ll open the doors for you.” He mounted his horse and motioned her to follow him. Shivering, Sheba ran to the overhang on the porch of the house.

Ten minutes later, Rue Ann made a dash for the kitchen door. Her teeth were chattering and she couldn’t seem to control the quivers that swept through her.

Both she and Logan more resembled drowned rats than people. He removed his hat and hung it beside the door. Water dripped onto the clean plank floor. If she could’ve spoken, she’d have warned him that it would ruin the nice wood. But she couldn’t stop her teeth from striking together.

“Wait here.” He disappeared for a moment and returned with two towels. Laying one aside, he proceeded to dry the rain from her face with feather-soft dabs. “I wonder ... do you still kiss the way you used to?”

“Stop, Logan.” Her voice was but a whisper. “This will accomplish nothing.”

“I think we should find out if your marriage to Teddy is a mistake or not before you actually go through with it.” His mouth was so close she could feel his breath on her lips.

“Don’t start this or I’m walking out the door right now, storming or not.” She snatched the towel from him. “I can dry myself.”

Logan shrugged, got the other towel, and dried himself off.

When he’d finished, he wiped up the water from the floor. “Come into the parlor, Rue Ann. I’ll have a roaring fire going as soon as I let Sheba inside.”

That must have been what he’d named his new pet. Nice name.

Water squished in her shoes as she let him lead the way, lured by the promise of blazing warmth. After Logan let the dog in and dried her off, he lit the fire. Rue Ann stood as close to it as she could get, conscious of water pooling around her feet.

“Do you have something I can use to mop up this water?” she asked awkwardly.

“You get warm. I’ll take care of it in a minute. First I’m going to make a pot of coffee. I seem to recall how much you value your hot tea but unfortunately I don’t keep any.”

“I’ll drink anything that’s steaming.”

After circling around a couple of times, Sheba lay down on the hooked rug and curled into a ball. Rue Ann could hear Logan rumbling around in the kitchen. She should probably offer to help. But that would be dangerous. The close confines of the kitchen would offer no escape should she need it.