Page 134 of Texas Glory
Reaching through the bars, she hugged him as fiercely as she could. “You take care of yourself.”
“Take care of my violin and my horse. I’ll need them both when I come home.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Cordelia wept with relief when Dallas’s fever finally broke near dawn. The pain hadn’t gone away with the fever, but they were able to untie him. He was incredibly weak, too weak to sit, but he managed to slurp broth from a spoon that she held to his lips … over and over … off and on throughout the day whenever he wasn’t sleeping.
While he ate, she prattled, explaining things that had happened since they’d returned to the ranch, carefully avoiding any mention of Austin. She told him about moving the fence back beyond the river, the death of Rawley’s father, her plans to add a theater to Leighton.
Talk of the theater made him smile.
Houston and his family remained at the house and took turns seeing to Dallas’s needs. To say he was a difficult patient was an understatement.
The third morning after his fever broke, Cordelia walked in the room to find Dallas sitting on the edge of the bed taking short gasps of air, his hands knotted around the mattress, sweat beading his body.
“You shouldn’t be up,” she scolded as she hurried into the room and set his breakfast tray on the foot of the bed.
“Where’s Austin?”
The moment she’d dreaded had finally arrived. All the words she’d practiced saying suddenly seemed trite, insignificant. She knelt in front of him and placed her hands over his. She could see the pain etched in his features, the strain in his muscles. How she hated to add to his pain.
“He’s in the prison in Huntsville.”
He blanched as though she’d struck the whip against his back again. She tightened her hold on his hands.
“Boyd was murdered. Apparently, before he died, he scrawled Austin’s name in the dirt. They sentenced Austin to five years in prison because he had threatened to kill Boyd. And Austin wouldn’t say who he was with the night Boyd died.”
“Who was he with?” Dallas said through clenched teeth.
Cordelia pressed her forehead to his knee. “He doesn’t want anyone to know.” She looked up, her eyes pleading. “Give me your word that if I tell you, you won’t betray his trust.”
He averted his gaze, and she watched him swallow. “Give you my word,” he said with resignation.
“Becky Oliver.”
“Get my horse saddled.”
Cordelia fell to her backside as Dallas stood. “You gave me your word.”
“I’m not gonna break my word, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let him give up five years of his life for a woman.”
He took a step, faltered, reached for the bedside table for support, and sent the table and himself crashing to the floor.
He cried out in pain, rolling to his stomach. Cordelia yelled for Houston. He stormed into the room and dropped to his knees beside Dallas, slipping his hands beneath Dallas’s arms, trying to help him get to his feet.
“What happened?” Houston asked.
“I told him about Austin,” Cordelia said.
Dallas glared at his brother. “Why in the hell didn’t you do something?”
“I did all I could do. The evidence was stacked against him, and he wouldn’t open his goddamn mouth. The one time he should have opened it, and he kept it closed.”
Struggling, Houston finally got Dallas to his feet. Dallas shoved away from him, staggered, and regained his balance.
“Austin told me to tell you to stay out of this. It’s his problem and he’ll take care of it,” Cordelia said.
