Page 38 of Texas Glory
Austin could do little more than stare at the woman. “It’s a prairie dog,” he reminded her.
Cautiously, she brushed her fingers over its head. “It’s just a baby. Please help her.”
Dee was looking at him with so much hope in her big brown eyes that he couldn’t do what he knew needed to be done. He slipped his gun into his holster. Thank God, she was married to his brother and not to him. Dallas could break her heart. Austin wouldn’t.
Near dusk, Dallas brought his horse to a halt in front of the corral. The flowers he’d pulled from the ground along the way had wilted in his hand. He dismounted, trying to decide if his wife would want them anyway.
“Boss?”
He turned at Slim’s irritated voice.
“We got trouble,” the lanky man said.
Dallas sighed, not at all surprised. One of his wells had run dry, and he had cattle dying on the north end. “What kind of trouble?”
“Prairie dog. Austin took your wife walking, and they found a prairie dog. He let her keep it.”
“He what?”
“He let her take it into the house to doctor it up. Said she was gonna feed it some milk. You ever hear of anything like that? I dadgum guarantee that ain’t gonna sit well with the men. Thought you oughta know.”
The flowers fell from Dallas’s hand. “See after Satan, will you?”
“You’ll get rid of that prairie dog, won’t you?” Slim asked.
“I’ll get rid of it.”
Marrying a woman he didn’t know hadn’t sounded like such a bad idea until he’d done it. What in the hell could she want with a prairie dog?
Dallas strode toward the house. Austin sat on the steps, one long leg stretched out before him, the other serving as a resting place for his violin as he plucked the strings.
Dallas ground to a halt, and Austin tilted his head back, his blue eyes looking as innocent as a newborn babe’s.
“Tell me that we’re having prairie-dog stew for supper,” Dallas commanded.
Austin smiled. “I’d be lying if I said that. Learned long ago that lying only brings trouble.”
“Then what in the hell were you thinking to let her take a prairie dog into the house?” Dallas bellowed.
Austin lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “She ain’t my wife. Didn’t think it was my place to tell her she couldn’t keep it. Figured that decision was yours to make.”
“There’s no decision to make. A prairie dog isn’t a pet. It’s a varmint.”
“You gonna tell her that?”
“Damn right I am.”
“You gonna tell her she can’t keep it?”
“Hell, yes, I’m going to tell her she can’t keep it.”
Austin shook his head. “I sure wouldn’t want to walk into that house wearing your boots.”
“You couldn’t if you wanted. Your feet are too big. Where is she?”
“Last I saw her, she was in the kitchen.”
He marched through the house and strode into the kitchen. With the creature squirming in her lap, Cordelia fidgeted in a straight-backed chair. She jerked her head up.
