Page 29 of Texas Glory
She felt the anger seething through her. “My father was right. You are a coldhearted bastard.”
He turned his head sharply as though he were as surprised by the vehemence in her voice as she was. She’d never in her life dared to speak so sharply to anyone. She expected him to give her what her father gave her brothers when they used that harsh tone on him: a backhand across the face.
“I’m giving you a choice he wasn’t willing to give you,” he said.
Hearing the tautness in his voice, she marveled at his restraint.
“I’ll gladly take it,” she said as she kicked the sides of her horse. She allowed the mare to take a half-dozen steps before she pulled back on the reins. She glanced over her shoulder. Dallas hadn’t moved. Not a muscle. She remembered him as she had seen him last night: sitting on the corral, staring at the moon.
What choice had life given him for a wife? She hadn’t counted, but she had seen fewer than a dozen women at her wedding. Her brothers were always discussing the absence of women, speculating as to where they might find a wife, going so far as to answer advertisements in magazines.
Perhaps an illusion of choice was all any of them truly had.
Her true choices were limited to living within the shadows cast by her father and brothers or living within the shadow cast by this man. Shadows when she longed for sunshine.
Prison was prison, but at least her current jailer gave her the freedom to ride, an inane reason to raise and lower her hand, but she did, never taking her eyes off her husband. The air suddenly filled with shrill whistles, whoops, and yells.
Dallas urged his horse forward until it was even with hers. “You might as well watch what you’ve given them,” he said, his voice low.
She turned her gaze from him as his men lassoed the crooked posts and began pulling them back across the river. Her brothers removed their hats, waved them in a circle over their heads, and urged their horses forward, the cattle following.
“I want a son,” Dallas said quietly.
Cordelia’s heart thudded madly in her chest. “I’m aware of that. My family gets the land they want. And what do I get?”
He removed his hat and met her gaze. “Anything you want.”
Cordelia considered asking for her freedom, but she knew in her heart that she would never abandon a child she brought into the world. His son would bind her to Dallas more strongly than any vows she had spoken yesterday.
She had never known what it was to hate anyone, but she felt the uncomfortable stirrings now. Her father had sheltered her, protected her, until she had become little more than a possession to be bartered away.
“Love?” she asked.
His eyes darkened. “Give me a son and I’ll find a way to give it to you.”
Austin dearly wanted to kill the little men who were building a town inside his head. Their constant pounding reverberated between his temples.
He forced himself to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed. The pounding grew louder, and he realized a good deal of it wasn’t in his head at all.
“Breakfast is ready!”
He groaned at Dallas’s booming voice.
“I’m coming,” he mumbled. He bowed his head and hoped to God Dallas had let Cordelia sleep late. He didn’t know how in the world he was going to be able to look her in the eye.
He shoved himself to his feet, washed up as quickly as he could, changed into a clean shirt, and headed down to breakfast.
Dallas and Cordelia were already sitting across from each other, Dallas chewing his food, Cordelia scraping the eggs from one side of her plate to the other. Austin took the chair between them.
“You look like hell,” Dallas said.
“I feel like hell.”
Dallas shoved a plate of fried eggs toward him. The yellow yolks quivered, and Austin’s stomach roiled.
“Get something into your belly,” Dallas ordered.
Austin reached for the coffeepot and poured the steaming black brew into his cup. “I just want coffee.”
