The Texan's Bride Read online

  He slept about three nights a week at the house to keep an eye on Jessie, as he’d promised Roscoe. But he rarely saw her. He worked long hours and she was usually in bed when he came home and still asleep when he left. Through Rosa he knew she was okay and everything was running smoothly. If he needed to talk to her about business, he’d call and come home early.

  “Damn you, Jessie, for screwing up my life,” he said under his breath. Her biological clock was ticking and she’d zeroed in on him, her husband, like a buzzard on a carcass. But he was the logical candidate. They couldn’t continue to live in their farce of a marriage. It would have been so much simpler if she had wanted a divorce or an annulment. Then they could have gone their separate ways. Still, he wouldn’t have felt good about that. He’d made a promise to Roscoe and, unlike his father, his word meant something to him.

  Closing the files he got to his feet and headed to the apartment to get ready for a date with his wife. And God help him, it was the last thing he wanted to do.

  JESSIE WENT THROUGH ALMOST every dress in her closet and finally shimmied into a black slim-fitting one with a V-neck. Looking in the mirror, she frowned. The V showed too much cleavage and she actually had some to show off. For so long she’d been flat-chested.

  Taking another glance, she decided to wear the dress. After all, tonight she was starting a new role—being a wife and hopefully a mother. She sighed. Why did it have to take a business deal to bring them together? Why couldn’t they have magically fallen in love? Because Cadde never saw her as anyone other than Roscoe Murdock’s daughter.

  Pushing the depressing thought aside, she sat at her dressing table. With her olive complexion, dark hair and eyes she needed very little makeup. She applied liner to her eyes and brows and then added some lip gloss. That would do. She brushed her long tresses until the static electricity almost ate her brush. Rarely did she wear her hair loose, but tonight she let it flow down her back.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror and wondered like she had so many times in her life—who did she favor? Her father had blue eyes and blond hair. Without a doubt she took after her mother. When she’d asked about her, he’d say, “Jessie, baby, your mother left us a long time ago. You’ve got me, so put a smile on that pretty face.” Then she’d feel guilty for asking about a woman who would leave her child. It didn’t keep her from wondering, though.

  She’d even asked Rosa, but Rosa had come to work for them after the tragedy. She’d never met Jessie’s mother.

  As a child she’d dream about the mysterious woman coming back, but she didn’t. In her teens Jessie had finally accepted that. Her mother had made her choices for whatever reasons and Jessie seldom thought about her these days.

  Glancing at the crystal clock on her vanity she saw it was after eight. Damn! Where was Cadde? If he bailed on her, she’d make his life a living hell. She laughed out loud. She really was her father’s daughter. But she wasn’t making anyone’s life a living hell. If he didn’t come, they’d go back to the status quo of ignoring each other. That would be her living hell.

  “Get a grip, Jessie,” she said to herself as she reached for a long strand of pearls her father had bought her in New York. Slipping into high heels, she hurried downstairs to wait.

  CADDE WAS RUNNING LATE, but he couldn’t help it. He’d had a call from one of his engineers and they talked about the Louisiana leases.

  He rushed through the back door and found Jessie pacing in the living room, her dog trailing her every step.

  “I’m sorry I’m late.” The rest of his excuse evaporated as he stared at his wife. He knew the poised Jessie in business suits and the casual Jessie in jeans, but the sexy siren in front of him was someone else entirely. He could feel his blood pressure taking a hit.

  She looked at the gold watch on her arm. “Fifteen minutes, to be precise.”

  “I told you I had a lot of work to do and I got away as quickly as I could.”

  “And so gallant about it, too.”

  “Let’s go then.” He struggled to look anywhere but at her cleavage. He felt like a teenager seeing breasts for the first time.

  Jessie bent to pat the dog. “Go upstairs to your bed, Mirry. I’ll be back later.” The little thing trotted away as if she understood every word.

  “Where did you get her?” he asked to focus his attention on something beside her. If it was up to him, they’d just go upstairs but he knew that wasn’t what she wanted—just yet. Damn! Why did women have to be so picky?

  “I found her on the side of the road,” Jessie was saying. “Someone abused her severely and left her for dead.”

  He experienced a moment of guilt for not liking the little dog. The cruelty of people floored him, but Mirry seemed to have found a savior in Jessie.

  “You’re staring,” she said.

  He blinked. “I’ve never seen you with your hair down.”

  She called his bluff immediately. “My hair is here.” She touched her head.

  “Okay, I was staring at your breasts,” he admitted like the honest Christian boy that he was. “I never realized you had…”

  “Breasts,” she finished for him.

  He nodded, wishing they’d never started this conversion.

  “They’re pretty much standard equipment, Cadde.”

  He sighed. “Could we go?”

  “Sure.” She picked up a small purse from the coffee table.

  “Do you want to go in my truck or your Suburban?”

  “Your truck,” she replied. “My vehicle has feed in it and it’s smelly.”

  “What do you feed?”

  “Animals that would starve if I didn’t.”

  They talked as they walked through the dining room to the kitchen. Rosa had said something about animals and now he was curious.

  “What kind of animals?”

  “I have five horses from the Houston SPCA. Their owner left them to starve to death in a pasture. I know someone there and she calls me when they have an animal that’s been mistreated or abused and needs a home. I also have a donkey that had an infected eye and a ram with one horn. Gavin cut off the other one and operated on the donkey’s eye. They’re doing very well. The horses were skittish at first, but between Gavin, Felix and me we’ve managed to gain their trust. Gavin doctors their sores every week or so.”

  “Who’s Gavin?”

  “The vet.” He opened the back door and she asked, “Do you want to know who Felix is?”

  “No. I sign his damn paycheck. Why isn’t he picking up the feed?”

  “Felix was busy and I was in town at a board meeting, as you may recall, so I picked it up. No big deal.”

  As soon as they stepped into the garage, the Dobermans sniffed at their feet.

  “Oh, I hate these dogs.” Jessie made a face.

  “Why?” Again he was curious. She seemed to have an affinity for animals.

  “They’re trained to kill. I told Daddy I didn’t want an animal like that, but he insisted when he went on that trip to Alaska. He was afraid someone would breach the security system while he was gone. And he wanted a surprise for the perpetrator.”

  Cadde remembered that trip with Roscoe. They were checking out the oil situation, but Roscoe decided it was too damn cold for his Texas blood. Roscoe called Jessie two to three times a day and sometimes more if he was feeling restless and worried. Fear was his constant companion. He never lost the paranoia that someone was going to take Jessie from him.

  “Why don’t you just get rid of them?” he suggested.

  “I tried. No one wants a dog like that. I might see if Gavin can gently put them to sleep. I hate doing that but they kill every animal that comes into their perimeter—squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, possums, birds, anything. There’s always something dead in the yard in the mornings.”

  She took a breath. “And they attacked the man who delivers hay for the horses. He stopped at the house and made the mistake of getting out of his truck. They were on him in a second. Felix
was barely able to grab their collars and restrain them so the man could get inside his vehicle. It was very scary. I’m even afraid to go out after dark, and if they attack one of my mistreated animals I would just die.”

  “Then call your friend Gavin first thing in the morning.” He didn’t want her living in fear. He wasn’t all that fond of the dogs, either.

  They walked to the passenger side of his King Ranch truck. Suddenly she turned and he bumped into her. He caught her arms to steady her. Smooth, silky skin tempted his fingers and a delicate fragrance wafted to his nostrils. His heart rate rose like mercury in a thermometer. Oh, God. He released her. This was going to be a long, long evening.

  “A couple of days ago Will brought me a baby fawn,” Jessie was saying. “Someone had killed her mother.”

  “Who’s Will?” How many men came out here to see Jessie? He knew she was the big selling point. The animals were just an excuse. For the first time jealousy flickered in his gut. It was ridiculous. He’d never had these symptoms with the other women he’d dated. So why was Jessie different?

  “The game warden,” she replied, and he jerked his attention back to the conversation. “The little thing needed nourishment badly. I have her in a cage in the barn. Since she’s a new scent I’m afraid the Dobermans will attack her. I keep a rifle at the barn and one in the house if anything goes awry.”

  “Jessie, I don’t like the sound of this. Call the vet.”

  She flipped back her long hair. “Are you telling me what to do?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  In the light from the garage he could see her black eyes flashing. “Just so you know I don’t respond well to people telling me what to do.”

  He met her gaze. “Just so you know, as your husband, I’ll be doing that—a lot.”

  “I figured,” she replied in a saucy tone. “Don’t expect me to be a dutiful wife.”

  He opened the passenger door of his white truck. “That’s the last thing I expect from you.”

  She laughed softly and it seemed to clear the tiredness and stress from his mind.

  His vehicle was high off the ground and he intended to help her inside, but she hitched up her skirt, showing a long length of smooth thighs, and hopped in without a problem.

  Why did Roscoe think Jessie was fragile and helpless? She had as much strength as he had. Why had Roscoe never seen that?

  He walked around to the driver’s side. Why had he never seen that? He just assumed Jessie was as vulnerable as Roscoe had described. They’d both been wrong. Jessie could match his strength any day of the week. Their marriage would be a test of wills. Who’d be the first to give in, the first to compromise?

  As he backed out, he knew one thing. It wasn’t going to be him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  STUPID! STUPID! JESSIE CURSED silently. Why didn’t she let Cadde help her? Her father’s paranoia had made her dependent and she’d spent many years staking her independence, proving to everyone, mostly herself, that she was capable of handling her life. Claiming that prize hadn’t been easy, but she was tired of being afraid of everything around her. So she faced life head-on, determined to do things on her own. Sometimes, though, she needed to make better judgment calls—like tonight.

  Little was said as Cadde drove away from the house. She watched his big hands on the steering wheel: capable, efficient and strong. That described him to a T.

  A Shilah Oil coffee cup was in the console along with papers listing oil wells and production numbers. The four-door cab truck was big, but with Cadde’s presence it seemed to grow smaller. A woodsy coffee scent tempted her nostrils. She leaned back and let the cool air from the air-conditioning calm her nerves.

  When they reached the cutoff to U.S. 290, Cadde stopped the truck. “Where would you like to go?” His tone indicated he didn’t care and that irritated her.

  “There’s a nice Italian restaurant in Brenham,” she replied. “It might be more miles, but less traffic.”

  “Fine.” He turned right. He was halfway friendly earlier. Now he seemed to have nailed that door shut. If he wanted to be temperamental, that was okay with her—up to a point. This evening was about them getting to know each other and he had to make an effort.

  They breezed into Brenham, a small town of nearly fifteen thousand, and home to Blue Bell Creamery. As a child, she loved it when her dad would take her to get ice cream. Even though it was one of her fondest memories, it took all of her childish imagination to ignore the guards. She had wanted to run and play with the other kids, but was never allowed.

  She switched her attention to the road and gave Cadde directions. He followed them without saying a word. When he stopped at the house that had been converted into a restaurant, he asked, “Is this it?” Clearly, he wasn’t impressed.

  “Yes. It’s very nice and has great food,” she informed him.

  “Fine,” he said again in that clipped tone.

  She gritted her teeth and got out. It was pointless to wait for him to help her. She’d already blown that.

  As they walked to the front door, a warm breeze ruffled her hair. Tossing it back, she gazed at him and had to admit he’d made an effort in dressing. He wore dark slacks, a white shirt, with his dress boots and Stetson. Every woman in the place was going to be looking at him. He had that air, that presence that drew attention. He’d certainly caught hers and her feelings hadn’t changed since the first time she’d met him. She had to wonder, though, if they could build a life on her feelings alone.

  They didn’t have a reservation, but were able to be seated without waiting. She could just imagine Cadde’s ire at having to wait. Their table was by a fireplace, which was unlit because it was the last month of summer. Still, with the muted lighting and a candle flickering in the center of the linen tablecloth, it was very romantic. They had a view of a small courtyard with green plants. The whole ambience was relaxing. She took a deep breath and prepared herself to enjoy the evening.

  Cadde laid his hat on a chair as a waiter placed menus in front of them. “May I get you something to drink?” he asked.

  “A glass of your best chardonnay,” Cadde replied without pausing.

  The waiter turned to her. “I’ll have the same,” she told him.

  As the waiter walked away, she opened her menu. “The chicken alfredo is good, and so is the marsala.”

  “Mmm.” He studied the dinner entrées.

  The waiter came back with two glasses of wine. Setting them on the white tablecloth with a coaster, he asked, “Are you ready to order?”

  Jessie closed her menu and unfolded her linen napkin. “Yes. I’ll have the chicken alfredo.”

  Cadde did likewise. “Parmesan steak. Medium rare.”

  She should have known he’d order steak. There was just something about Texas men that they had to have steak. Her father had been the same.

  She shifted uneasily and thought this would be a good time for them to talk. Straightening her napkin in her lap, she said, “You have two brothers, but I know little else about you or your family.”

  “I was born in High Cotton, Texas.” He took a gulp of the wine. “After our parents died in a car accident, we lived with our aunt and uncle.” A flash of resentment crossed his handsome face.

  “Your expression changed when you mentioned your parents.”

  He looked at her for probably the first time since they’d left the house. “I don’t know why.” His chilling tone issued a warning—don’t pry.

  The silence stretched and she could almost feel a negative vibration coming from him telling her he wasn’t in a talkative mood. She was about to ignore all the warnings when their dinners arrived.

  Cadde emptied his glass. “Bring the bottle, please.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  In a matter of seconds, the waiter was back with the wine.

  “Thank you,” Cadde replied, filling his glass.

  She twirled fettuccine around her fork and watched him cut into his steak with sha
rp strokes. Between each bite he gulped the wine. After the third glass, she’d had it. She carefully placed her napkin on the table and picked up her purse.

  “If you have to drink yourself silly to have dinner with me, then the deal is off.” She stood and strolled from the room, but not before she saw the shock on his face.

  At the small entry alcove, she asked the lady for a taxi. She didn’t even know if Brenham had taxis, but evidently they did since the woman handed her a card with a number. She noted the curious look on the woman’s face. After seeing her come in with Cadde, she was probably wondering what was going on.

  As she went out the door, she punched the number in on her cell and gave the taxi company her location. Darkness had settled in over the neighborhood, but the outside lights were bright, illuminating her way. The houses were lit up and a couple of boys rode by on bicycles, enjoying the last days of summer. Through some of the windows with open curtains she could see families were sharing their day—loving families. That was something she was never going to have so she might as well face it.

  She glanced at her phone for the time. How long did it take a taxi to get here? The cell was suddenly jerked from her hand. She whirled around to find Cadde. He was furious from what she could glimpse in the streetlight. His hat hid most of his expression.

  “Give it back to me.” She jumped for it, which was ridiculous since he was so much taller.

  “You’re going home the same way you came here,” he snapped.

  “Like hell. I’m not going anywhere with a man who has to get drunk to spend a couple of hours with me.”

  “I’m not drunk.”

  “Oh, please.” She placed her hands on her hips.

  “Jessie…”

  The cab drove up, interrupting him. Cadde opened the door and handed the guy some bills. “Sorry. Thank you.”

  Jessie was seething. How dare he! She was so angry she was about to burst out of her dress. “Give me my damn phone!”