Never Love a Cowboy (24 page)

“I haven’t a clue. He mentioned something about trying to arrive before Christmas,” he murmured, bringing the glass to his lips. Whenever it was, he feared it would be too soon. He watched the delicateness of her throat as she tipped back her head and sipped on the amber brew. How he longed to press his lips to the pulse that jumped there.

She set down her glass. He reached over, grabbed the bottle, and refilled her glass. “You probably couldn’t sleep because your hair is pulled back into that taut braid. Why don’t you loosen it?”

She gave him a knowing smirk. “The next thing you’ll tell me is that my nightgown is too tight.”

“That’s probably true. You seem to sleep well enough when you aren’t wearing it.”

The red crept into her face like sun bursting over the horizon. “You’re no gentleman.”

“I never claimed to be.”

“And I reckon I ain’t no lady.”

“On the contrary.” He took her braid and unraveled the strands. “You are the finest lady I’ve ever had the pleasure to know.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I am not teasing. I speak naught but the truth. You are courageous, Jessye. I know of no other woman who could have stood up to the trials of the past year
as you have. You even suffered through my foul moods.”

“And now you’re walking.” She tossed back her drink, and her eyes widened. “Oh, that burns.”

He took but a sip from his own before refilling hers.

“What are you going to do with your share of the money?” she asked.

“Order another faro table, perhaps. And you?”

She sighed dreamily. “I don’t know. Go somewhere and start over, I reckon.”

His stomach tightened. “Where do you think you might go?”

“Ain’t got a clue. Someplace where dreams are big.” She sliced her gaze over to him. “What kind of dreams do you have?”

“My dreams usually revolve around a woman wearing very little clothing.”

Laughing, she took another swallow of whiskey, and he realized she was well on her way to getting drunk. Otherwise, she would have scolded him profusely.

“You gotta dream bigger than that, Harry. If you could do anything, be anything that you wanted to be…anything at all…what would you do?”

“I would make you happy.”

She smiled crookedly and lifted her glass. “I am happy.” She downed the remaining whiskey.

“Not truly happy.”

“’Course I am.”

“No, you pretend…much better than I do.” He leaned forward. “What is your heart’s desire?”

“To get away from here and buy my pa a saloon.”

He cradled her cheek and held her gaze. “
Your
heart’s desire, Jessye.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she shook her head.

“A daughter, perhaps,” he answered for her. “And a man who would stand beside you.”

“Don’t do this to me, Harry.”

“Is that your heart’s desire?” he insisted.

“Yes!” She jerked away from him, poured whiskey into the glass, and gulped it in one swallow. “But I can’t have it. Can’t ever have it. Men like their women pure and docile. I’m not either one of those blasted things.”

“So don’t tell him about your past transgressions.”

She furrowed her brow, hope filling her eyes. “Wouldn’t he be able to tell on our wedding night?”

He swirled the liquid in his glass. “I don’t know. I’ve never bedded a woman who had no experience.”

She sank back in the chair, despair sending the hope into oblivion. “Even if he couldn’t tell, having a lie like that between us would eat at me. You can’t build a marriage on a foundation that ain’t strong enough to carry truths.”

He smiled. “You get philosophical when you’re drunk.”

A corner of her mouth tipped up, and her eyes glittered with amusement. “Yeah.” She placed her elbows on the table and leaned toward him. “What’s your heart’s desire?”

“You’ll be disappointed if I tell you.”

“No, I won’t.” With her finger, she drew an X over her chest.

“My heart’s desire is to have another night with you in my bed.”

She scrunched up her luscious mouth. “That’s such a small thing to want.”

“Not if you live for the moment as I do.” He withdrew a deck of cards from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Care to make a wager on heart’s desires?”

Jessye laughed. Damn the scoundrel! His plan all along had been to lure her back into his bed, and she was drunk enough not to care. Besides, memories of that night were worth reliving. Why not take another night of memories with her before she left? “Sure, Harry. Why not? But you shuffle them cards first.”

“Certainly.”

She watched his deft fingers cut and shuffle, over and over. She wished she could figure out how he cheated. He set the cards down. “Cut.”

She reached for the cards, then drew her hand back. Her thoughts were getting fuzzy. Too much whiskey. “Now what exactly are we wagering?”

“Hearts’ desires.”

“Right.” She pointed her finger at him. “If you get the high card, I spend the night in your bed…and if I get the high card…” She furrowed her brow. “I don’t spend the night in your bed?”

“If you draw the high card, I shall marry you and give you the daughter you want.”

Hope spiraled and fell. She chuckled. “Harry, now I know for sure that you cheat. You’d never wager something like that.” God, it was a sin for him to sit there looking so incredibly handsome. Another night in his arms would be no hardship.

“What the hell,” she muttered as she reached out
and cut the deck. She turned up the bottom card in her hand. A four.

She smiled at him. “There’s no point in you even turning up a card.”

“Now, Jessye, I don’t want you to later accuse me of taking unfair advantage. We must carry this through to the end.”

She watched as he wiggled his fingers over the remaining deck. He picked up half the cards and turned them to reveal a two. “Damnation,” he muttered.

She stared, blinked, her mind befuddled. “I must have misunderstood—”

“No, my love, you won.”

“I won. You and me are gettin’ hitched?”

“It appears so, although I would prefer to wait until Kit returns so he can stand as my best man.”

She nodded mutely, wondering where her breath had gone. Her body felt like molasses. She really shouldn’t drink. It made it impossible to think clearly. “I…I was gonna move—”

“So now you can stay.”

“What…what will I do with all the money that Kit’s bringing me?”

“Decorate a nursery?”

She squeezed her eyes closed. “I’m getting dizzy.”

She felt his hand cradle her shoulder. “You should go to bed.”

She looked at him. “Yeah, yeah I should.” But she sure wasn’t going to sleep now. “Harr—”

He placed his finger on her lips. “I hate to ask, but it seems I drank more than I should, and I’m a bit dizzy myself. Can you help me back to my room?”

“Sure.” She scooted the chair back and walked to
his side. She needed time to think, to sort through what had happened.

He struggled to his feet, using the table for support. Then he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Small steps,” he ordered.

She concentrated on the tiny steps, one foot in front of the other, because her mind simply could not accept the magnitude of what she’d just done. Never in a million years had she expected to win.

And why did she feel as though she’d lost?

Because he’d never mentioned love.

The turn of a card had determined her fate…not the love of a man.

J
essye struggled to open her eyes. Her temples
were throbbing, her neck was stiff. After escorting Harry to his room, she’d sought solace and understanding in another glass of whiskey and then another.

All the whiskey only made it impossible for her to think, and now it would make it impossible for her to get out of bed without heaving up her insides.

She squinted against the sunlight easing through the curtains. Last night’s events blurred into distorted memories. She remembered cutting cards, and somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she thought she was getting married.

What an absurd notion! She was certain Harry would wake up this morning and laugh the whole episode off.

She cringed as someone banged on her door. She tossed the covers aside, eased her feet to the floor, and padded across the room. She opened the door and peered into the hallway. “What?”

Billy’s cheeks reddened as he averted his gaze. She
clutched the opening of her nightgown. “What did you need?”

“Uh, nothin’, uh, well, Mr. Bainbridge needs you.”

“He’ll have to wait.” She started to close the door.

“He’s been waitin’ out back.”

She halted and stared at him. “Out back?”

“Yes, ma’am. He had me go to the livery first thing this morning and rent a buggy. He went out for awhile. Then he came back and told me I was to come up here and get you.” He leaned over, his gaze darting around the hallway as though he needed to impart a secret. “He can’t walk up stairs.”

She leaned against the doorframe. “How
did
you come to work here?”

He straightened. “He hired me.”

She massaged her aching temple. “I know that, but how did you meet?”

He looked away, the red creeping back into his face. “Oh, that. Well, one night, he came outside to take a…uh, to answer nature’s call…and tripped over me. I was drunker than a skunk, feeling sorry for myself on account of losing my hand in the war. Lord, he chewed me up one side and down the other for not appreciating what I did have. Took him a good twenty minutes to get back on his feet. Wouldn’t let me help him none. Told me when I was ready to stop feeling sorry for myself, I could work for him. Took me a couple of days to do that.” He looked at her and grinned. “Anyway, he wants to take you for a buggy ride, and I was supposed to come up and get you.”

Jessye grimaced. “Could you have a cup of strong black coffee waiting for me down there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She closed the door. Damn Harry for being compassionate. Damn him for being kind, understanding, and all the things she didn’t want him to be—all the things that made her love him more than she thought humanly possible.

When she finished changing from her nightgown into a faded dress, she walked down the stairs, took the coffee from Billy, and went out back. Harry stood beside the buggy, leaning on his cane.

“What took you so bloody long?” he asked.

She flinched. “I had to get dressed.”

He limped toward her. “Are you ill?”

She glared at him. “How can you be so jolly after we drank so much whiskey?”

“Ah, I see. The fresh air will do you good then. Come on, get in.” He took her arm and led her to the buggy.

“Where are we going?”

“I have something to show you.”

“Harry, I really don’t know if I can take a buggy ride. Can’t you just tell me?”

“You really need to see it, but we can do this later if you prefer.”

She heard the disappointment in his voice. She needed to talk to him anyway, to set things straight. Might as well do it after he showed her whatever it was he needed to show her. “Let’s go,” she said as she clambered into the buggy.

She downed the black brew as he limped around the horses.

“What do you think of that bank of clouds over there?” he asked.

She glanced away from him and studied the billow
ing white formations as she felt the buggy rock. Damn his pride for not wanting her to see him get onto his seat. She waited until the carriage stilled before looking at him. “It’s lovely.”

“I thought so.”

He picked up the reins and gave the horses a gentle slap on the backside. They started forward. Jessye closed her eyes, hoping the world would stop spinning before they arrived at their destination.

“What do you think?” Harry asked as he led her to the middle of the clearing.

Jessye glanced around as the cool autumn winds stirred the leaves and plucked them from the trees that bordered three sides. Before her, the land stretched into eternity. She shuddered.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

She nodded. “I didn’t realize cooler weather had moved in.”

He shed his jacket and handed it to her. “Put this around your shoulders.”

“I’m not going to take your jacket so you can be cold.”

“This is summer weather in England.”

She draped his jacket over her shoulders and drew it closely around her. His scent wafted around her, and the warmth from his body soaked into her flesh.

“So what do you think?” he repeated.

At a loss, she looked around again before facing him. “What do I think about what?”

He arced his arm in a grand gesture. “The land. I know it’s a bit dreary now with the leaves falling, but I should think come spring that it will be majestic.
There is a river nearby so water should be no problem. I thought in that area where there are no trees that perhaps we could have a pond.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “Harry, what are we doing here?”

“I assumed you wouldn’t want your daughters raised in a saloon. I thought this might be a nice spot to build a home, but if you don’t like it—”

Stepping back, she held up a hand. “Harry, last night is fuzzy. What exactly did we do?”

“I made wild, passionate love to you—”

“No, that I would have remembered.”

He smiled wickedly. “So moments with me are memorable, are they?”

She sighed in frustration. “I know we had a wager—”

“And you won. We are to be married, and I’m to give you a daughter. Perhaps in time, a son. Although he was not part of the wager, I thought you might not object—”

“Harry, you don’t plan marriage and children around cards and wagers—”

“But we did, and a man must stand by his debts.”

“You don’t get married because of debts.”

“I would agree if we were not so well suited to each other.”

“Well suited? Have you got any idea how often you make me mad?”

“And you make me equally angry, but it does not change the way I feel about you.”

“Which is what exactly?”

He took a step back and cleared his throat. “I beg your pardon?”

“Exactly how do you feel about me?”

“I admire you, adore you actually. Do you not like me?”

“I like you fine, but a marriage is supposed to be built—”

“On a foundation of trust. I remember you told me last night. So have you something you wish to confess?”

She stared at him, wishing her mind would clear up. “What?”

“You said last night that there could be no secrets between you and the man you were to marry so I thought I should give you the opportunity to tell me if you have any other secrets.”

“I’ve already bared my soul to you. There’s nothing else to confess.”

“So now, I must bare mine.”

Her heart hammered as he glanced down, and she saw his grip on the cane tighten.

“You asked me once why I was in hell.” He lifted his gaze to hers. “My second mistress was named Margarite. She was a beauty, colder than the first—”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I do because my mother was not the only one who taught me that a mother’s love did not extend to me, and I’m not certain you believe me to be an honorable man where women are concerned.”

Harry shifted his stance, and she saw the strain in his face. “Do you want to sit somewhere?” she murmured.

“No, some things are better said standing.” He glanced away and cleared his throat. “Margarite dis
covered that she carried my child. I offered her the protection of my name.”

Jessye’s chest tightened. “You were gonna marry her?”

“Yes.” He met her gaze, and the agony she saw reflected in his eyes almost brought her to her knees. “But it seems, she wanted neither me nor my child. I found her on a blood-soaked bed. She had tried to rid herself of the babe and paid with her life.”

She took a tentative step toward him. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“The fault was mine, Jessye.”

“You can’t blame yourself because she did that.”

“I can, I did, and I still do.” He balled his hand into a fist and pressed it against his chest. “Because we never talked, you see. I did not know what her dreams were and what they were not. What we shared was not real, but I embraced it because it felt safe. I thought there was no risk, and I was wrong. I began to gamble recklessly, my debts amounting to unreasonable excesses.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I think I rather hoped someone would drown me in the Thames because I could think of no other way to escape the guilt. I do not wish to bring it into our marriage, but I thought you should be aware that it is there.”

Her throat tightened as she absorbed the true extent of his guilt and pain. How could she tell him at this moment that she wouldn’t marry him? She wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss against his neck. “For what it’s worth, Harry, I decided after we crossed the Red River that nothing on God’s green earth would force me to give up your child if I found out I was lucky enough to be carrying her.”

He slipped his arm around her and held her close. “Thank you for that.”

Tears stung her eyes, and she tightened her hold on him. “I appreciate that you trusted me enough to bare your soul.”

Unfortunately, she didn’t think he’d given her his heart.

“Kit! By God, it’s about time!” Harry cried.

Jessye spun around to see Kit embrace Harry in a hearty hug. “Missed me, did you?” he asked.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Harry said cheerily, stepping back, balancing himself with the cane. She could not believe the progress he’d made in the three weeks since they’d cut cards. They’d even taken strolls through the town, but she could always tell when he tired, for he leaned on her more heavily.

It was the middle of the afternoon. Only a few men sat in the saloon, gawking. Kit dropped the saddlebags from his shoulder and held out his arms, tilting his head toward her. “Jessye?”

She practically skipped across the saloon. He took her in his arms and swung her around. “You’re rich, sweetheart!”

“So I hear.”

He placed her smoothly on her feet. He grabbed his bags. “Let’s celebrate.”

“Billy, bring us a bottle of whiskey and three glasses,” Harry ordered as he led the way to his table in the back.

He pulled out a chair for her, waiting patiently as she sat. She thought she might never grow accustomed to all the courtesies he bestowed upon her since
that fateful night. He’d even had a dress sewn for her as though he truly expected them to get married.

He took his seat and wrapped his warm fingers around her cold hand. She watched as Kit opened his bag, pulled out two brown packets, and placed one in front of her, one in front of Harry.

She worked her hand free of Harry’s and trailed her fingers over the coarse paper.

“Five thousand,” Kit said quietly. “I won’t be offended if you feel a need to count it.”

She shook her head and pressed her fingers to her lips. “I don’t believe it. Even after Harry got your letter, I didn’t believe it.”

Kit looked at Harry. “Of course, yours is a bit less.”

Jessye sat up straighter. “I said we were equal partners—”

“I divided the money equally—”

“Kit,” Harry snapped.

Kit smiled. “But Harry had instructed me to take from his share whatever fifty cattle were worth and give the money to Tom and Jake. The lads were quite taken with your generosity.”

As was Jessye. She studied Harry, wondering if she’d ever understand the man. “I thought we’d all agreed that we weren’t taking on any charity cases.”

“The lads’ situation seemed to warrant a breaking of the rules. I thought it bad enough that they had to deliver heart-wrenching news to their mother with only a hundred dollars in their pockets.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It was not generosity that prompted my request, but fairness.”

“You need not defend your actions,” Kit said.

“I realize that, although I would appreciate a bit
more discretion on your part in the future when I ask a favor.”

“Ah, yes, we wouldn’t want Jessye to think you weren’t a complete scoundrel.”

She was beginning to think he wasn’t a scoundrel at all.

Billy set the whiskey and glasses on the table before walking away. Kit opened the bottle and liberally filled the glasses. “Harry, you were right to insist we go to the west, around Kansas. No cattle made it to Sedalia. Many cattlemen held their herds at Baxter Springs, Kansas, hoping for passage. The grass is gone and the cattle are dying. I should think the winter will finish off any that remain.”

“A regrettable shame,” Harry murmured.

“Some good may come of it,” Kit said. He touched Jessye’s packet. “There is a demand for the cattle. Men of influence will find a way even if it means bringing more railroads into Texas.”

“So you’re going into railroads?” Harry asked.

“Haven’t a clue what I want to do. I only know I no longer want to herd cattle.”

He lifted his glass. “Allow me to propose a toast.”

Jessye and Harry lifted their glasses.

Kit cleared his throat. “May the value of this endeavor be measured in terms far greater than money.”

They clinked their glasses together. Jessye’s mouth grew dry even though she sipped the whiskey. When she set down her glass, Harry took her hand and brought it to his lips.

“It already has been,” he said quietly. “Jessye and I are to be wed.”

“Indeed,” Kit said, though neither his voice nor his
eyes reflected surprise. “When is this blessed event to take place?”

“Tomorrow,” Harry said. “We’ve only been waiting for your arrival.”