Page 122 of Texas Glory
Only a few months before, she might have invited him to join them. Now, she didn’t even want his company when she rode into town to check on her hotel.
They had become strangers.
After her accident, he had been afraid to sleep in her bed, fearful of hurting her. With each passing day, a chasm had widened between them, a chasm he had no earthly idea how to close.
He wondered if she would even come home tonight. She had begun to spend more nights at the hotel. He bent his head until his chin touched his chest. Damn, he missed her, and he didn’t know how to get her back.
Her smiles for him had disappeared, along with her laughter. Sometimes, he would hear her chuckle at something Rawley said. He’d hoard the moment as though it were for him, knowing full well that it wasn’t.
It seemed that the night they had lost their son, whatever tender feelings she might have had for Dallas had perished as well. How could he blame her? He hadn’t been there to protect her. He had been as useless as a dry well.
He heard the galloping hooves and looked up in time to see the rider bring his arm back. The window shattered as a rock sailed through it.
What the hell?
He found the rock, untied the string that surrounded it, and unfolded the note. He recognized Dee’s flowing script long before he saw her signature.
Sitting at his desk, he turned up the flame in the lamp. He read the note a dozen times. The words remained the same, chilling him to the bone.
He planted his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his hands, digging his fingers into his brow. Christ, he didn’t know what to do.
The well on the north end was visible for miles—as was everything around it. If anyone followed him to offer assistance, whoever waited at the well would see him.
If Dallas held his silence, told no one about the ransom note, brought no one with him …
He sighed heavily. He’d probably viewed his last sunset, already regretting that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate it, for he had little doubt that a bullet would be waiting for him beside the well.
Dallas pounded on the door until the hinges rattled.
The door opened slightly, and Henderson peered out into the darkness. “Good God, Dallas, your wife didn’t ask for a loan today.”
“I know that. I need a thousand dollars—cash.”
“Come see me at eight when I open the bank.”
He started to close the door, and Dallas slammed his hand against it. “Now. I need it now.”
“For what?”
“Business. You can charge me double the interest on it.”
Henderson scurried outside, and Dallas followed him down the steps. As Henderson fumbled with the keys, Dallas refrained from grabbing them and shoving them into the locks himself.
When Henderson turned the key on the last lock, he glanced over his shoulder at Dallas. “You stay here while I get the money.”
Nodding, Dallas handed him the saddlebag. “Make sure it’s exact.”
As Henderson disappeared into the building, Dallas walked to the edge of the boardwalk and gazed toward the end of town where Dee’s hotel stood before turning his attention to the sheriff’s office. He toyed with the idea of waking the sheriff as well, of explaining the situation to him in case Dee didn’t return home tomorrow. But if Cooper didn’t release Dee, what difference would anyone knowing make? None at all.
He glanced back at the hotel, and the pride swelled within him. The Grand Hotel. She had envisioned it and turned it into reality. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever told her how proud he was to have had her at his side.
For a man who thought he’d lived his life by side-stepping regrets, he suddenly discovered that he had left a great many things undone.
Dallas arrived at the well an hour before the sun shone directly overhead. The windmill clattered as the slight breeze blew across the plains. He shifted his backside over his saddle and waited.
He loved the land, the openness of it, the way it beckoned to a man. If treated right, the land returned the favor, but it couldn’t curl against a man in the dead of night. It wouldn’t warm his feet in the middle of winter.
He saw the solitary rider approaching. He wasn’t surprised that the exchange wasn’t going to take place here. Still he had hoped.
