Page 66 of Texas Splendor
Unfortunately, she couldn’t change hers either. She could only hope that it would never lift its ugly head to touch Austin or their children. “Share something good with me.”
His blue eyes darkened, and his lips spread into a warm smile filled with impassioned promises. He placed his hands on either side of her waist and drew her against him. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
“A story. Tell me a good story from your past.”
Laughing, he released her waist, took her hand, and began walking. “I’m no good at telling stories.”
The night closed in around them. The lamps along the street threw ashen light over the abandoned boardwalk. The town seemed almost deserted with most of the residents attending the play. She saw pale lamplight spilling out from the saloon at the far end of town, along with boisterous laughter, and the echo of a tinny piano.
She stumbled when the heel of her shoe hit a loose plank in the boardwalk. Austin steadied her, then knelt and slapped his thigh. “Give me your foot.”
“What are you going to do?”
He glanced up at her and she saw the answer in his gaze.
“I’m dressed all fancy. I can’t go barefooted.”
He angled his head and lifted a brow. “Are we going back into the theater to watch the play?”
She remembered how tense he’d been inside the building, how his body and his hold on her had relaxed once they’d stepped outside. “No.”
“Then get your foot up here.”
Placing her hands on his shoulders, she planted her foot on his thigh and watched as he nimbly worked her buttons free and removed the shoe from her foot. “You have such nice fingers,” she said as he rolled her stocking off.
“You think so?”
“Mmm-uh.” She relished the feel of the boardwalk beneath her bare sole and placed her other foot on his thigh. “I wish you’d let me teach you to play your mother’s violin.”
His hands stilled.
“It takes time and patience, but I have both,” she assured him.
He worked her shoe free, grabbed the other shoe, and unfolded his body. “I can’t play the violin, Loree.”
“If you tried—”
“I can’t.”
His words were spoken with absolute finality.
“Can’t never could,” she muttered.
“What?”
She shook her head. “Just something my ma used to tell me.”
He shifted her shoes to one hand, wrapped his free hand around hers, and began walking.
“Dallas has his cattle, Houston has his horses. What do you have?”
“You.”
His smile was warm, and her heart fluttered.
“Before me, what did you have? What were your dreams?”
His steps slowed as though they followed his thinking, back to a time when he had dreams. “Dallas is a man of powerful influence.” He pierced her with his gaze. “I love and admire him, Loree. Don’t ever think that I don’t.”
