Page 33 of Texas Glory
The sobs came hard and heavy. “They don’t care about me. They only want the land. Dallas only wants a son.”
His arms tightened around her. “I can’t deny it looks that way, but sometimes things aren’t always the way they seem.”
Stifling her sorrow, she worked her way out of his embrace. He handed her a handkerchief, and she wiped the tears from her face. She took a deep shuddering breath. “How is Maggie this morning? Is her tummy all right?”
“She’s right as rain.”
She handed his damp handkerchief back to him. “Thank you.”
“You’re more than welcome. I take it things aren’t much better this morning.”
She shook her head. “Dallas frightens me.”
“I know. He frightens me, too, sometimes.”
His words startled her. If Dallas scared his brother, what chance did she have of ever feeling comfortable around him? “Yesterday, when we were all in here, and Maggie ran to him, I was so afraid …” She sniffed. “You were here. You knew how angry he was, but you let her approach him anyway.” She studied him, remembering how slowly, calmly he had come to his feet. “You knew he wouldn’t harm her.”
“With the exception of doors, Dallas isn’t one to direct his anger at the innocent.”
He wrapped his hands around hers, just as Austin had earlier. The small gesture was incredibly comforting. What she would have given if her father or brothers had done the same for her instead of badgering her for knowledge about her wedding night.
“It’s probably not my place to say this,” Houston said quietly, “but it might help you to understand Dallas a little better if you know …” He lowered his gaze.
Alarm rushed through her, and she scooted up in the chair. “Know what?”
He gave her an awkward smile. “I can talk to Amelia about the war, but I’d forgotten how hard it is to talk to others about it.”
“The War Between the States?”
“The War of Northern Aggression is how Dallas refers to it. I was twelve, he was fourteen when our pa enlisted us.”
“Fourteen?”
“Yep. I was Pa’s drummer, and Dallas … Dallas was his second in command. A lot of the men resented that a boy was giving them orders. In the beginning they gave him a hard time, seemed to take delight in doing the opposite of what he told them to do. It bothered him, bothered him a lot. One night, I heard Pa giving him a dressing down because he’d discovered some men hadn’t followed the orders Dallas had given. Pa told Dallas, ‘They don’t have to like you, but they gotta respect you and they gotta obey you.’ ”
Houston shook his head. “Dallas stopped caring whether or not they liked him. He stopped asking them to do things, and he started telling them. The habit stayed with him, even after the war ended.”
He leaned forward. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that he doesn’t mean to sound angry or hard, but a lot of people depend on him … and he’s simply forgotten how to ask.”
He released her hands and stood. “Well, I need to find Dallas and head back home. Will you be all right now?”
She liked the way he said “home.” As though he knew of no finer place in the whole world.
“I’ll be fine.”
For long moments after he left, she simply sat in the chair and remembered the comfort of his touch, the calming resonance of his voice. She could certainly understand why Amelia had overlooked his scars and fallen in love with him.
CHAPTER
SIX
As a clock downstairs chimed twelve times, Cordelia eased from the bed. Dallas hadn’t come to her room. She wasn’t even certain if he was home.
She wished she had brought her books. She had expected to be busy as a wife. She’d thought she would have no time for reading, but she found she had nothing but time.
She remembered the half-filled shelf in Dallas’s office. She slipped on her night wrapper, increased the flame in the lamp, and headed into the dark, quiet hallway.
She crept toward the stairs, holding the lamp high. Careful of her step, she descended the stairs, walked to Dallas’s study, and opened the door.
