Page 112 of Texas Glory
“There’s a difference between being good and doing bad things. Sometimes, a person does something because he doesn’t have a choice. He might not like what he did … but it doesn’t make him bad.”
Rawley had done a lot that he didn’t like. Mr. Leigh shook the box beneath his nose. It rattled something fierce. “Austin, did you put a rattlesnake in here?” Mr. Leigh asked.
Austin was shoving his hand into a new glove. He looked up. “Don’t tell him. It’ll ruin the surprise.”
Mr. Leigh lifted a brow. “What do you think?”
Rawley wrinkled his nose. “Thought rattlers slept in winter.”
“Maybe you’d better open it and see.”
Rawley nodded and took the gift. His fingers were shaking so badly that he could barely grab the tiny piece of string. He pulled the bow free and moved the paper aside. Then holding his breath, he lifted the lid and peered inside. “Holy cow,” he whispered.
He’d never seen so many sarsaparilla sticks in his whole life—except at the general store. He didn’t know much about counting but he knew a hundred was a big number so he figured he had at least a hundred sticks in that box. He’d be an old man before he finished eating them.
“You can eat them anytime you want, Rawley,” Austin said, wearing a big grin.
“Can I eat one now?” he asked.
“You don’t have to ask,” Mr. Leigh said. “They’re yours to do with as you want.”
His. A hundred sarsaparilla sticks. Maybe more. His mouth watered as he took one from the box and slipped it into his mouth. The tangy flavor washed through him. He looked at the lady. She had tears in her eyes. He figured she wanted a sarsaparilla stick, too, but it didn’t look like her boxes were the right size to hold one. He knew what it was to want—and to never have. He held the box toward her. “Want one?”
More tears filled her eyes along with the glorious smile she gave him as she reached into his box. “Thank you.”
He’d done that. Made her smile. He’d never in his life had anything but misery to share with people. He felt warm inside knowing he had something good he could share, even if it meant he wouldn’t get to eat them all. He shoved the box toward Mr. Leigh. “Want one?”
Mr. Leigh smiled, too, as he took a stick and put it in his mouth. Rawley wondered if Mr. Leigh’s mustache would smell like sarsaparilla after he’d eaten the candy.
Gathering his courage, he went around the room, offering to share his gift with everyone, even the bratty girl, watching their smiles grow, wishing he had more to give them. When he returned to his place, he glanced at the two unopened boxes. He didn’t figure they could hold anything better than what he’d already gotten.
He set his box of candy aside and opened the next present, saving the biggest for last. His heart plummeted when he looked inside the box. A blanket. A blanket he could use when they took him back to town, and he was sleeping beside buildings again. He’d been working so hard, hoping they’d keep him forever, but he hadn’t worked hard enough.
“Gonna open the last one?” Mr. Leigh asked.
Rawley nodded, even though he didn’t want to open it, to see what else they’d given him. He pulled the bow apart and peeled back the paper, opened the box, and stared.
Stared at the fine brown leather that shone like someone had spit on it over and over. Mr. Leigh reached into the box and pulled out the saddle.
Mrs. Leigh touched her fingers to a corner of the saddle. “Those are your initials.”
He didn’t know what his initials were but he sure knew good carving when he saw it, and someone had carved little designs all along the saddle, except for the place where he’d put his backside.
“Well, now, if that ain’t the stupidest gift I’ve ever seen,” Austin said as he walked over for a closer look. “What were you thinking, Dallas?”
Cordelia wondered what Dallas had been thinking. He’d planned to give that saddle to his son, a son he would never have.
“What good does a saddle do him, if he ain’t got a horse?” Austin asked.
“But we brung him a horse!” Maggie slapped her hand over her mouth and turned round green eyes to her father.
Houston scooped her into the air, and she squealed. “You kept that secret longer than I thought you would,” he said, grinning.
Dallas unfolded his body. “Let’s go outside.”
He held his callused hand out for Cordelia. She slipped her hand into his, relishing the strength she felt, the warmth, remembering the feel of his hands touching her intimately as they would never touch her again.
He pulled her to her feet. Austin tossed Dallas a coat from a nearby chair. He draped it around Cordelia. The others shrugged into their coats before walking through the doors that led onto the veranda.
