WM02 - Texas Princess (3 page)

“Soak that hand while I get the medicine box. I’l not have you getting that cut infected.”

Tobin didn’t argue. He fol owed orders. Within minutes she’d doctored his thumb, wrapped it tight to hold the sliced skin together, and served him a piece of pie—al the while keeping up a running lecture on how he should be more careful.

The housekeeper had carried his handkerchief and a towel out to soak in cold water when Sage walked into the kitchen. She took one look at her brother and said, “You’re hurt?”

He kept his injured hand beneath the table. “What makes you say that?”

Sage smiled. “Martha wouldn’t be cutting you a slice of the pie she baked for supper unless you were injured. I know her bedside manner. Doctor, lecture, feed sweets.”

Tobin took his hand out from beneath the table. “I broke the bottle Travis sent from Austin and sliced my thumb open picking up the glass.”

“Is it bad? I could take a look.”

“No.” Tobin returned to the pie. “It’s nothing. Time I eat al the pie, it’l probably be wel .”

Sage laughed. “You’d better save big brother a piece. He’s over at the building site and heading this way. It seems Teagen had some trouble with the senator down near Victoria who was buying his spoiled daughter a new horse. He’l probably tel you al about it when he gets in, but I’d better warn you, his mood is dark.”

“He only has two colors of moods—dark and black.”

Sage agreed as she grabbed a few carrots for Glory from the vegetable bin and hurried out the back door.

Tobin didn’t have long to wait to hear the details of his brother’s trip to deliver one of their nest horses to a rich senator’s ranch east of Austin. Within ten minutes Teagen sat across from him complaining as he nished off the rest of the pie.

“You should have gone, Tobin. I told you that from the rst. You handle an animal better. You would have showed the horse off to his best advantage.”

“But we both knew you’d be better dealing with a senator.” Tobin echoed what he’d said over a week ago when his brother left.

Teagen nodded. “Maybe with the senator, but not with that daughter of his. She’s the devil’s little sister, I swear. She took one look at one of our best three-year-olds and said the animal would never do.”

“Give any reason?”

Teagen downed coffee before answering in a low voice, “She said the horse looked dul -witted.”

“What?” Tobin rocked forward in his chair, making the front two legs slam into the kitchen’s polished oor. “She said one of our horses looked stupid?”

Teagen nodded, pleased at his brother’s reaction. “Exactly. I told her we don’t raise stupid horses, but once in a while we made the mistake of sel ing one to someone who isn’t too bright.”

Tobin laughed. “What’d the kid say?”

“She ordered me off the ranch. I was ve miles gone when her father caught up to me.”

“Did you straighten him out about our horses?” Tobin couldn’t get over the fact that someone would have the nerve to cal one of the McMurray horses dul -witted. They were the nest horses raised in Texas, maybe in the South.

Teagen shook his head. “The senator is a man who likes to give his only child the best.

He offered to pay us double if we’d bring another horse for her. He said she’s a little high strung. ‘A princess,’ he said. If you ask me, spoiled rotten is more the word.”

“You said no?” Tobin didn’t even want to think about letting such a girl ride one of his horses.

“I did,” Teagen answered. “The senator offered to pay triple.”

Tobin frowned. Above al , his oldest brother was a businessman. He loved horses, but not in the same way Tobin did. For Tobin they were like family; for Teagen they were the family livelihood. “What did you say?” Tobin nal y asked.

Teagen shrugged in silent apology. “I said you’d bring another.”

Tobin shot out of his chair. “No.” He accidental y bumped his thumb against the table and swore.

His brother raised his hands. “I stopped by Travis’s place in Austin, and we talked about this. The senator would be a good friend to have. Travis said the man’s running for reelection and if he wins there’s a good chance he’d be one of the most powerful men in the Senate.”

When Tobin didn’t say anything, Teagen added, “He’d be an important friend to have if Travis ever decides to run for ofce. You can’t blame the senator for wanting the best for his daughter. We could use the money and we are in the business of raising horses to sel .”

Before Tobin could think of a comeback to his brother’s logic, Sage wandered into the kitchen. She poured herself a cup of coffee and turned to her brothers. The fact that they were both a head tal er and double her weight never seemed to frighten her when she wanted to join an argument. “I have the answer.”

Both men looked at her. Since she’d turned eighteen last year, the brothers al agreed that she would have an equal vote in the running of the ranch.

Sage smiled. “Send her Sunny.”

“Sunny?” Tobin frowned. “Sunny is the orneriest horse we have on the place.”

Teagen laughed. “Or the smartest.”

“He’s a beautiful animal.” Sage sat at the table.

Tobin agreed. The palomino was one of the nestlooking horses they had and a great-great-grandson of Glory.

But Tobin had wasted hours trying to train the animal. Sunny didn’t have a mean bone in his body, but he had a mind of his own. More than once the horse left Tobin to walk back to the barn. When any rider turned him toward home, he’d better have a rm grip on the reins.

“He can run,” Sage added.

“Toward home,” Tobin mumbled. He’d never had a horse who showed no interest in leaving the corral and went ful out to get back each night. Tobin grinned when it crossed his mind that he and the animal might have one thing in common.

“He has a good sense of direction.” Sage laughed trying to turn Tobin’s comment into a strength. “And he’s independent.”

“A kind way to say he doesn’t do wel as part of a team.”

Teagen stood. “Sunny, it is. You can start in the morning, Tobin.”

Tobin didn’t argue. He knew they were right. If Sunny had been a mare, they could have kept her to breed, but too many males caused trouble. The spoiled senator’s daughter could nd nothing wrong with the ne horse, and she’d probably only ride now and then. What did it matter if her horse was barn-soured? As long as she didn’t get off the animal and leave him untied, Sunny might be just what she wanted.

By nightfal , Tobin had packed and checked on Glory. The old girl was stil standing, looking stronger than hours ago. It appeared she planned to be around a little longer.

Sage helped him brush her down then they walked back to the house.

The air had cooled reminding them it was early fal . Tobin put his arm around his little sister who’d forgotten her jacket as always. He’d been taking care of her al her life.

When their mother lay dying just after giving birth, she’d ordered him to take Sage to the porch. He’d picked her up and wrapped her as best as he could in a blanket. He’d known that moment that he’d be near whenever she needed him.

“You’d better marry a fat man who can keep you warm,” he teased.

“Maybe I should go up and sleep on Whispering Mountain so I can dream my future?”

They both glanced at the dark outline of the tal est point on the ranch. Their father had dreamed his future when he’d been seventeen. He’d dreamed his death and spent the next twelve years preparing for his sons to take over. Andrew Mc-Murray had ridden away to ght for Texas and left his three sons to defend the ranch. That year Tobin had lost both his parents, but he’d never felt alone. He had his brothers and Sage. He had Whispering Mountain.

When they reached the porch, Tobin took one last look. “I’l never climb that mountain to dream. I know my future. I plan on staying right here until I die.”

“What about marriage and a family?”

“No marriage. No kids. That life is not for me.” He didn’t want to tel even Sage that he didn’t need to climb the mountain to see his future. The same nightmare had haunted his sleep since he’d been shot at six years old. He dreamed of being covered in blood and feeling himself letting out one last breath. Years ago he’d sworn to himself that he’d never do what his father had done—marry and leave children to face the world alone. When he died, there would be no widow, no orphans to mourn him.

“Wel , I’m going to marry, and when I do, that wil leave you and Teagen alone in this big, old house with only Martha to tel you what to do.”

“Got anyone in mind for my future brother-in-law?”

She moved toward the door. “As a matter of fact I do, but I’m not ready to tel any of you.” She disappeared before he could ask more.

Tobin smiled. They’d al seen the way she’d kissed the young ranger in Austin goodbye months ago. Several letters had come for her from him. Any man brave enough to kiss Sage in front of her three big brothers just might be a match for her.

An emptiness l ed Tobin’s chest. He’d spent most of his life alone or in the company of his family. He knew little or nothing about things like irting or fal ing in love and had no plans on learning.

Then, when he took that last breath as he visualized doing in his dream when the nightmare visited, he’d do it without any regrets.

chapter 3

Y

liberty Mayeld darted through the shadows

behind her massive three-story home and ran toward the barn. The tiny rocks along the path jabbed into her feet, but she didn’t slow. Satin shoes might be perfect for dancing, but not for running and tonight she wished she could run until dawn. Maybe then, she would outrun her own foolishness.

Feeling unsure, or even stupid was one thing, but knowing that she’d made the biggest mistake of her life was quite another. Her father had warned her to tread softly, but, as always, she rushed in at ful speed. She’d agreed to marry Captain Samuel Buchanan without knowing what kind of man lay beneath his crisp uniform. She’d seen his true colors tonight, and the one glimpse had chil ed her heart.

Liberty slipped into the barn and moved silently toward the last stal . If anyone came looking for her, she had no intention of al owing them to nd her. In the blackness of an empty stal not even her pale blue bal gown would be seen.

Just as she swung the gate closed, she heard footsteps.

“Liberty!” Samuel shouted. “Liberty! I know you’re in here. I saw you leave the garden.”

He sounded angry. As angry as he’d been at one of his men earlier.

She closed her eyes wondering if she could take a blow like the soldier had without breaking bone. No, she reasoned, Samuel wouldn’t hit her across the face. He wasn’t fool enough to draw her father’s wrath...but once they were married she’d be alone with this man she realized she barely knew. Her father would go back to Washington and his campaign, leaving her with a new husband. She’d have no one to cal friend in al of Texas.

Samuel’s promises of marrying her and taking her back to Washington were empty.

Once she agreed to the engagement, his plans had shifted almost daily. First, he’d said they might have to stay at his present post longer than expected. Then her father had explained to them both al the advantages of Samuel taking command of a frontier post. Samuel had agreed, forgetting any promise he’d made to her in favor of his career.

Tonight, she’d not only realized the kind of man she was marrying, but just how alone she would be once the wedding happened.

“Liberty! Get out here. We’re not playing this game.” He sounded impatient.

She didn’t answer.

“Come out,” he said more slowly. “Once I explain my actions, you’l see reason.”

She wiped her mouth, wishing she could rub off the taste of his kiss. He’d never been so bold before. His kisses had always been polite, almost cold. But tonight he’d been drinking, celebrating their upcoming wedding. After he’d disciplined his man, he noticed her watching from the shadows of the veranda and grabbed her as if she were his prize after battle. His kiss, his embrace, had been nothing short of an assault.

She could hear him moving about the barn, kicking things out of his path. “Come out, pet,” he said in a voice she hardly recognized as his. “I’m sorry if I shocked you, but I’m a soldier and I’m used to taking charge. Once you’re my wife you’l get used to it.

Even your father admits you need a little taming.”

Samuel turned up a lantern somewhere and light sliced through the slats in the stal gate. The normal y empty barn came alive with sounds of horses being stabled because of the party that night. Several of the guests planned to stay through to the wedding four days away, leaving Liberty little time to speak to her father alone.

She mumbled an oath. There would be no wedding. Not if she could stop it. Samuel shifted from being formal one moment to violent the next and she could never live with such a man. She’d loved the facade of him, a handsome army ofcer on his way up, but Liberty knew now that she’d never known or loved the man.

“Come out, pet, I’m tired of this game.” His voice held an edge.

Glancing back for an escape route, Liberty froze in surprise. A man, sitting up from his bedrol , watched her as he dug his hand through straight, chestnut brown hair. She opened her mouth to scream, then suddenly realized that the man outside the stal posed far more of a threat than the one she’d obviously awakened.

She nodded slightly toward him, her nger on her lips.

The stranger nodded back in understanding.

Liberty returned to watching her ancé move angrily from stal to stal . It wouldn’t be long before he reached her. If he found her here, with another man, there was no tel ing what he might do. She closed her eyes as a shiver chil ed her al the way to her heart. If he found her alone, he might carry out his whispered promise from minutes ago.

She could stil feel his words against her ear. He’d grabbed her, kissing her hard before he’d said in a voice so low she wasn’t sure he knew he was passing along his thoughts. “Don’t ever question anything I do, Liberty, or you wil be sorry.” His ngers had bit cruel y into her arms before he shoved her away. She knew, in that instant, she’d just seen Samuel’s true self.