“Will do, Royce.”
Outside, the street was full of curious people. Royce ignored them as he stowed his shotgun and tied her carpetbag onto the saddle. He lifted her onto Samson and mounted behind her. Before they rode off, he turned her face around to meet his and kissed her. A roar of approval vibrated around them. When she caught her breath, she hissed, “What was that for?”
“Why darlin’, I’m letting the town know my wife has returned.”
****
From inside Millie’s Hat Boutique, a pair of hazel eyes narrowed as they focused on the doings in front of the marshal’s office. As Marshal Dyson and the woman rode off, Danielle bit back her tears and looked down at the hat hanging limply in her hands. She’d have to buy the damn thing now. It was twisted beyond recognition.
“Millie, put this on my tab, please. I’m in a big hurry so no need to bother wrapping it up.” She headed for the door.
Millie seemed shocked at her rushed purchase—in truth she usually tried on every hat in the place, but now she just wanted to leave. The shopkeeper grabbed the finest hatbox in the store, and asked, “Are you sure? It won’t take a minute.”
“I’m sure.” And she was out the door, the bell ringing at the vibration of the slam.
Danielle passed the storefront and tossed the hat into the nearest garbage barrel. How dare that man come calling on her, invite her to the July Fourth dance, and then pick right back up with that woman the minute she comes back in town. Her face burned with mortification. She’d already told her friends she had a date with Royce. Being dumped by him for that redhead the first time was bad enough. How would she get past being humiliated again?
****
They rode along in silence. Texanna tried to sit up straight and not lean against his broad chest, but finally gave up and relaxed. One of his arms circled her waist while the other held the reins. If the close contact bothered him, he didn’t let on.
From the road she could see the Brazos River winding along through the trees. As the road neared the river, large sandstone rocks bordered it to keep wheels or horses from getting too close. She peeked over the edge to see boulders, dirt, and scrub brush blanketed the descent all the way to the water.
A small white farmhouse sat back from the west side of the road. “Who lives there?”
“Agnes Farley. Most folks call her Aggie. She’s a widow lady and takes care of Garrett when I’m working. He’ll spend the night there tonight, so you’ll meet him tomorrow or the next day.”
A short distance down the road, he turned down a lane that led to another white farmhouse. It loomed larger, with two stories and clapboard siding. Twin rocking chairs sat on a porch running the width of the house. Lilac bushes grew at each corner of the porch and several old oaks shaded the front and back yards. It was a picturesque view. Texanna could see Pearl living here.
“This is nice. Bet Pearl used to have lots of flowers in that front bed.”
He didn’t comment, but dismounted and lifted her down. “Go inside. I’ll put Samson away for the night.”
Inside, Texanna walked into the wide center hall with transoms above the doors at each end. She stepped into the parlor. The furniture was sparse and plain but pillows and crocheted doilies brightened the room. She fingered a delicate scarf and imagined Pearl sitting in one of the chairs crocheting by lamplight. She stepped across the hall into the dining room. It held a beautiful oak table with six chairs and an open hutch. She examined the china lined up across the shelf. Pearlina’s dishes were delicate, painted in pastels, and dust free. Someone had been cleaning for Royce.
Royce watched Texanna run her finger over the waxed wood and trace the pattern of the china. Her look was one of reverence, and her awe further confused him. He cleared his throat, and she turned and smiled. A tear sparkled in her eyes. “I just couldn’t resist exploring.”
He nodded. “Come on into the kitchen, and let’s find something to eat.” She followed him, her carpetbag still clutched in her hand. He took it from her and sat it on the end of the table. “We’ve got some leftover ham and fresh bread. How about a sandwich?”
“Sounds good.” When he offered her a glass of milk, her lip curled, and she shook her head. “I’d prefer water.”
They ate in silence. Royce watched her as she inspected the room and the items in it as if she’d never seen them.
“Where’ve you been since you left here?”
“Why, back in 2008 San Antonio, of course.”
****
The long skirt twisted around her legs threatening to trip her as she walked down the stairs. She kicked it aside and kept moving. Men’s voices echoed from the kitchen. The deep rumble of Royce’s voice made her stomach jump into her throat.
“I don’t know what to think, Matthew. She still claims to have time-traveled from 2008.”
“Do you think she’s your wife? Is it possible she’s lost her memory?”
“Hell, I don’t know what to think. But, last night she told me she’s a portrait artist. Made five thousand dollars on the last one she did.”
One of them whistled, probably Matthew, whoever that was. Ah! Probably the older brother.
“That’s a lot of money. She must be mighty good. Just one more thing she has in common with the Pearl we knew and loved.”
She walked through the open kitchen door. Both men rose to their feet.
That the two men were related was immediately evident but Matthew was a big man, several inches taller than Royce and more muscular. His biceps were as big around as the trunk of the tree in the front yard. Texanna mentally compared them. Both were handsome, but where Royce’s dark hair fell to his collar, Matthew’s was longer and tied back with rawhide. Royce was clean-shaven, but his brother had a beard and mustache.
Royce asked. “Find everything you needed upstairs?” He looked at her tennis shoes but didn’t comment.
“Yes, thank you.”
Royce nodded and held a chair for her. “Sit down and let us wait on you this morning.”
Texanna eased into the chair, warily watching both men as they moved around the kitchen.
Royce stood by her shoulder. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
He poured them each a cup while Matthew fetched the cream and sugar. Royce placed the pot on the stove and returned with a platter of scrambled eggs and ham. Matthew gingerly grabbed hot biscuits off a pan and piled them onto a plate.
Royce took the chair at the end of the table, and Matthew sat across from her. Each reached for one of her hands and waited for her to take it. Royce bowed his head.
“Father, we thank you for our many blessings—our family and friends, and for returning Pea...uh Texanna to us. Heal her, Lord, and restore her memory. Bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies. Amen.”
Restore her memory?
There wasn’t a thing wrong with her memory, nothing a one-hundred-twenty-eight-year jump in time wouldn’t fix.
Both men looked at her, waiting for her to begin. She picked up the beautifully embroidered napkin and ran her finger over the fine stitches. Pearl was gifted at needlework. Had she done these? She’d tried to teach Texanna, but her fingers wouldn’t cooperate.
Royce moved the cream and sugar where she could reach it. “Don’t you want to sweeten your coffee?”
“I drink mine black.” He studied her a minute then returned the bowls to the center of the table. The two men exchanged looks and cast her sideways glances. Evidently Pearl didn’t drink her coffee black in this time period. She didn’t in 2008 either. Texanna sipped the brew. It was more than a tad too strong for her taste, but the caffeine worked wonders at revving her up.
The men had big appetites, but their manners were perfect. Every time she looked up, their eyes immediately fled her face. Feeling awkward, she studied the kitchen while she ate. It was clean and neat. The wood floors gleamed with polishing, and the red, gingham check curtains at the windows added a cheery touch, as did the checked oilcloth on the table.
Unable to bear the silence and their scrutiny any longer, she blurted. “The food is delicious, especially the biscuits, and my goodness, real butter.”
Matthew looked at her in question. “Real butter? Is there another kind?”
Oh, boy. “What I meant was, this is really good butter.”
Matthew nodded and Royce just looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “How do you like the jelly?”
“It’s the best I’ve ever eaten. Apricot is my favorite.”
Royce nodded and smiled at his plate.
“You can thank Matthew for the biscuits. He took to Ma’s lessons better than Jason and I.” Royce’s expression held affection for his brother. Then he turned to her. “Pearl put up the jelly. This is the last jar. Thank goodness we still have apricots and plums on the trees so you can make some more.”
Texanna gaped at Royce.
He expects me to make jelly
? She was more the take-out food kind of girl. There were a few things she could cook that were edible, but not many.
Royce watched her, waiting for her to say something. “I don’t know how to make jelly.” She looked over at the big cast iron cookstove. “Or how to operate that stove.”
Royce eyed her suspiciously.
Matthew spoke up. “I’ll come by one day to help you with the jelly, Texanna. The day before you start canning, ride out to the farm and let me know. Molly would love to see you.”
“Who is Molly?”
Royce looked irritated but Matthew hurriedly spoke up. “Molly’s my wife. She’s big with our child and can’t ride anymore until after the babe is born.”
Her heart sank. This was the brother whose infant died. “Oh, you shouldn’t leave her there alone then.”
Matthew’s smile warmed her. “She won’t be alone. Several families live on the farm, and someone will always be within calling distance.” His gaze searched hers. “It’s nice of you to be concerned.”
His comment pleased Texanna, and she smiled in response. “I love to ride and can’t wait to meet your Molly.”
Riding was something Texanna could do. She’d taken lessons from the age of ten. Her mother wanted her to ride English style, but Texanna wouldn’t have it. She insisted on western style and for once, she got her way.
Texanna turned to Royce. “Is there a horse I can ride?” Royce didn’t like her question. He frowned. If his eyebrows got any closer together, he’d look like he sported a mustache on his forehead.
“Josie is in the field behind the house, but I don’t want you riding until I have a chance to go out with you.” He grabbed her wrist. “Are we clear on that?”
“Clear as a bell.”
Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on Royce. He gentled his tone. “Texanna, do this for me, please. I’d worry about you while I’m in town.”
His expression of concern was hard to miss. “All right, I’ll wait.” And she would, for a while. She didn’t intend to hang around the house all day.
Texanna stood. “Since you guys cooked, I’ll wash the dishes. Sit, have another cup of coffee.”
She looked around the kitchen. Okay, there stood the sink. A dishpan sat underneath. In a drawer, she located dishrags and towels. Now, where did she get hot water?
“Where’s the tea kettle so I can heat the water?”
Royce stood and carried the dishpan to a metal box attached to the side of the stove. He turned a spigot and to her surprise, steamy water ran into the pan.
Pretty neat invention,
she thought. At the sink, he sprinkled in powdered soap and then added cold water from the pump. “Don’t forget to add water to the reservoir or you won’t have hot water for the lunch dishes.”
Matthew stood. “I better get home and get to work.”
Texanna turned. “Thank you for breakfast.”
His smile emphasized his dimples. “You’re welcome.” To her surprise, the big man caught her in a bear hug. “And, Texanna, I’m so glad you’re home.”
Texanna shot Royce a look that demanded he explain the situation to his brother. He just grinned. Afraid to speak for fear of ranting, she nodded.
Royce grabbed an apron off a hook on the wall, slipped it over her head, and tied it in the back. When his fingers moved to the buttons on the back of her blouse, she stiffened.
“Looks like you had some trouble buttoning up this morning.” That was putting it lightly. She’d felt like a contortionist trying to fit the small buttons in the tiny holes.
Goosebumps rose on her flesh as his hand brushed her skin, but she tried to ignore the delicious sensation while he did up the buttons she’d been unable to reach. He was so close she could feel his warm breath on her neck. The room was hot from the cookstove, she pulled on the choking neckline trying to get some air.
He patted her shoulder. “There you go. All done.”
It was about damn time. She took a deep breath as he stepped away. “Why didn’t you explain our situation to Matthew? He thinks I’m Pearl, and you know I’m not.”
“No Texanna, I don’t know that for a fact. I suspect you’re not, but I could be wrong. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
“I’ve told you I’m not. Why would I lie?” She whisked dishes off the table and dumped them into the soapy water.
“Maybe you don’t know who you are, have lost your memory.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
He ignored her and walked to the coat rack by the back door. “I’ll be home around noon for lunch.”
“Don’t you eat lunch in town?”
“Nope. You always prepare a big lunch, and we have leftovers for dinner.”
“In this heat? I’ll roast in here.”
“Why, it doesn’t really get hot until around noon.”
Texanna looked around frantically. “Where’s the icebox? I’m not sure what to cook.”
“Just look in the larder. I’m sure you’ll find something that will do.”
The larder? What the heck is a larder?
He strapped on his gun belt, put on his hat, and moved to the door. He stopped and looked at her for a minute. Texanna felt like a doe caught in a spotlight. The tension grew so thick she could hardly breathe. In two long strides his arm was around her waist, holding her against his lean hard body. Before she could object, his mouth covered hers. His kiss was slow and sweet as he tasted and teased her mouth. The feelings of desire and joy his lips invoked terrified Texanna. She could not fall in love with this man. She would be going home in a few weeks.