Daughters of the Heart (22 page)

Did she really love Braxton—or whatever his name was? “Let’s wake Daddy up. He’ll understand. But I cannot marry without his blessing.”

“No, he’ll never give it—not to me—not a Glover. He’s hated my father forever. I’m sure you don’t know the real story about that first fight. He ever told you about Tess?” He reached for her again.

She backed away another step. “It doesn’t matter. If you love me like you say, you’ll talk to him. I can’t just run off. Mary Rachel did that, and it about broke his heart.”

“What about mine? And yours? He’ll get over it, especially when he sees how much we love each other.”

Would he?

It was her life, and….

Movement over his shoulder pulled her eyes from Braxton’s. A woman. The same woman from the café. The one staring. She strolled toward her, glaring the same as before. Gwen looked back to… “Who is that?”

Braxton spun then slowly turned back. “Sofia is her name. She’s my father’s slave.”

The look on his face—on Sofia’s—told it all. Gwen backed away a step then turned and ran up the stairs, taking some two at a time.

Footfalls fell behind her, but she didn’t look back.

Blue Dog slobbered all over his
hand. Henry swatted at him. The pack’s howls turned to menacing growls.

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move—just lay there—then it all made sense. He jumped out of bed, threw on yesterday’s shirt and trousers, grabbed his Patterson, and ran out the door.

Gwen raced toward him. Braxton on her heels. The girl from the café right behind him. Henry raised the pistol. “Stop! Best turn around, son, or I’ll blow your head off.”

Hightower halted, while Gwen ran on. He held his off hand out, and she ran into his embrace. A door behind him opened, but he didn’t take his eyes off the young man. The cafe girl joined him.

“I’ll not tell you again, son. Get gone. You’re done here.”

“But sir…” He held his hand out. “Tell him, Gwen. Tell him we love each other.”

She kept her face buried in Henry’s chest, but shook her head no.

Braxton eased closer, softened his tone. “Tell him.”

Henry cocked the Patterson. A shot over Hightower’s head should get him gone, but then what? He’d wake the whole hotel. May joined him. “Don’t shoot him, Henry. He isn’t worth it.”

He let his wife take Gwen, un-cocked the pistol and handed it to May, then stepped toward the younger man. “She’s right. You’re not worth the bullet.” He balled both fists.

The beauty at the impostor’s side tugged his sleeve. “Come on, Bubba. Let’s go home.”

Henry took another step.

Braxton shrugged, then waved him off like none of it was worth any effort. He spit on the floor then wrapped his arm around the girl, and strolled off like the whole thing had been nothing to ever mention again.

Gwen pressed her face into May’s shoulder. Why had she believed Braxton over her Daddy? She should have known better. The chowderhead didn’t love her. He loved that slave. That much was clear, and she loved him. No wonder the girl had glared at her so.

The door opened, but she didn’t look up. Oh Lord, what a fool she’d been. Salty tears stung her eyes and wet Mama’s housecoat, but she couldn’t stop. She hated herself for being such a crybaby.

A daddy-sized hand patted her shoulder. “Did he...uh...hurt you, baby? In…uh…anyway?”

She shook her head.

Mama May snugged her in tighter. “Did he say where he’s been?”

She nodded, but didn’t trust her voice.

“Want anything, baby? Water? Whatever? Anything…I’ll go get it.”

She sniffed and breathed in deep, filling her lungs, then remembered who she was. Henry and Sue’s grown daughter, not some crybaby school girl. She pushed away from May. Sat up on the bed. Smoothed out her dress.

But a horrible thought washed over her. She faced her father.

“Daddy! I left my clutch on the chair right next to the wall. My Derringer is in it, the one Levi and Rose gave me.”

“I’ll be right back.” He picked his pistol up from the side table where May had put it. “Lock the door behind me.”

She nodded and complied as soon as he was out it, then propped a chair under the knob before turning around. “Sweetheart, if he took advantage…there’s a tea we can get.”

“No. Oh thank God, no.” Gwen closed her eyes. How close had she come to going with him? “He said he had a priest standing by to marry us tonight. Said we’d tell you and Daddy about it in the morning.” A single tear escaped. She wiped it away. The idiot wasn’t worth any more tears.

“I’m so sorry, but at least now you know the truth.”

She studied her hands. Yes, she did know. She looked up. “Mama, how will I know? If I was so wrong about Braxton, how will I ever know if I really love someone?”

May grinned. “You have no idea how many times I asked myself the same question. I lost track of the number of marriage proposals I’ve had over the years.”

“Really? That many.”

She nodded. “At first, I thought I loved your father. I mean…what’s not to love? But now it’s like we’ve become one person. The feelings I have for that man are so much stronger and deeper than any I could ever have imagined.”

“If only….”

“There’s no more thinking. I know for sure and certain that I love him, and he loves me.” She grinned. “He wanted to shoot Braxton something terrible, but he didn’t, because I asked him not to. Now that’s love.”

“I wanted him to shoot him dead, too. But praise God, he didn’t.”

“Amen.”

Gwen stood then walked to the double doors that led to the balcony and stared out for a few beats of her heart. “His real name isn’t Hightower, it’s Glover.”

“What? Like Bull Glover?”

With great sorrow, she admitted the truth. “He’s his son. That’s why no one ever heard of him.”

“What? Gwendolyn Belle!” May whirled her around. Gwen had never heard her use that tone before. “Oh, precious Lord! What have you done, girl!”

“What, Mama? What’s wrong? What are you talking about?”

“Your father!” She rushed toward the door then threw the chair under the knob across the room. “I can’t believe you let him go without knowing that! What’s wrong with you?” She headed out the door then ran back in to get her handbag.

Gwen could only stare at the wild woman in disbelief. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“You sent him off not knowing that! It’s probably a trap! How could you?” She checked the chamber of her Derringer and ran out again. Her face puckered in such anger. “What if you’ve sent him into an ambush?”

What her stepmother meant—why she was in such a rage, hit Gwendolyn like a cannon ball and instantly sickened her.

No, God! Please no!

If anything happened to Daddy because of her… She ran after May, praying every step she took. 

At the top of the stairs, she stopped. Her mother was wrapped in her father’s embrace, leaning against the banister halfway up the grand staircase.

Every cell in her body tingled. She could not catch her breath though the distance she’d run wasn’t that far. Her heart beat wildly.

Praise You, Lord. Thank You. Oh, thank you and bless You!

Her knees wobbled. She turned and started back to the room, needing to sit down. They followed shortly. Once inside, and the door closed, he extended the clutch toward her.

“Still right there where you said.” He turned to May. “What happened up here to upset you so, sweetheart?”

Bursting into tears, Gwendolyn stared at her hands resting in her lap. What if.… “It was all my fault. I should have… Mama was right.” She looked up at him, but could only see his form through her blurred vision. Still she ran to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Daddy! I’m so sorry. If anything had happened to you….”

“To me? What did you think was going to happen?”

She just sobbed into his chest, clinging to him.

“May, what’s this all about?”

“Right after you left to fetch her gun, she told me Braxton was Bull Glover’s son. All I could think of was you walking into an ambush.” 

Pushing back, she wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Oh, Daddy. I’m so sorry. I should have told you.”

“Now, now. Calm down, the both of you. I’m fine. No ambush.”

Fidgeting with the buttons on the front of her gown, Mama fell into the chair next to the little table. “I obviously overreacted. Please forgive me, both of you. I’m so sorry, Gwendolyn, for the way I spoke…to…you.”

Barely able to get the sentence out, she covered her face and sobbed.

Her father left her side and went to May’s, kneeling in front of her. “Here, here. I’m fine, my love. No need for tears. All is well and we know the truth.” He faced Gwen. “So Braxton admitted he was Bull’s son?”

“Yes, sir. He came to Texas hoping to buy some of our land, so Bull could rub it in your face. Him being our neighbor and all, but then Braxton claimed he fell in love with me.”

“Oh, baby.” May looked up with red eyes. “Don’t believe it. When your father wouldn’t sell any of our land, they set their sights on you just to get to your father.” A knock silenced her. May rose and walked to it. “Yes?”

“Ma’am? Is everything alright? It’s the manager. I heard there was a disturbance. Are you in need of any service?”

“No, sir. All is well. Thank you for the concern.”

“Yes, ma’am. Let us know if you need anything.”

“I’m so sorry, Daddy.” She met May’s eyes. “And you, too, Mama. For everything. Will you forgive me?”

“Of course.” He held his arms out and she walked into his embrace. Too soon though, he eased her back. “Let’s make it through this night, and get ourselves back to Texas. Where’s your room key?”

She pulled it from her clutch. “Right here.”

He held his hand out. “You stay here with your mother. I’ll be right across the hall.”

“I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“Best we be on our guard. You two get some sleep if you can.”

But the bliss of slumber eluded Gwen. After May dozed off, she relived Braxton’s kiss. It had been wonderful…and shameful…and so exhilarating…and dreadful. When she thought it to be a true kiss.

Her first kiss…based on lies and deception. She could never take it back, have another first kiss.

Deep into the night, she pondered on exactly how close she’d come to eloping with him. In the end, she concluded if she had, then she’d be a widow, and her daddy would be behind bars for murder.

Somehow, she slipped into a fitful dozy dream world, where she’d indeed married Braxton but was not a widow. Her father, jailed for killing Bull Glover, languished behind bars, and her pregnant mother cried nonstop.

The lawmen moved Daddy to the town gallows. The judge’s gavel struck his desk, the boom louder than any thunderclap.

The executioner pulled the trapdoor’s lever.

In slow motion, Henry Buckmeyer fell through the hole. She screamed no. Her arms reached for him.

Had to keep the rope from tightening around his neck. She couldn’t. She raced down the stairs and under it to hold him up, but he thrashed. Suddenly mired in the muddy hole, she found herself being sucked down.

From the edge, Braxton stood ten feet tall, glowering over her. A wicked grin marred his face. “Your share belongs to me now, and I’ve got all of the Bull’s money, too. It’s mine! All mine!”

The slave girl slithered from behind him, her limbs like snakes, glided and slid all around him, over him. She beamed.

“And mine, darling.” She cackled and glared at Gwen. “He set me free. That’s right. I’m a free woman now, and your husband loves only me.”

“No! Daddy!” She reached toward Braxton, sinking deeper. “Save me.”

The creamy-chocolate-colored beauty chortled. “Save you? Ha! It’s all worked out just like we figured, honey pie. Thank you kindly for being so stupid.”

“Help me!”

Just as the mud reached her chin, a hand rocked her shoulder. “Wake up, baby.”

She gasped and grabbed at the voice. “Help him.”

“Wake up, Gwen.”

She forced her eyes open then held the hug a few frantic heartbeats longer. Finally calmed, she leaned back. “Oh, Mama, it was horrible.”

“I figured so by the way you hollered.”