Texas Loving (The Cowboys) Page 11

  “Can’t you give up the title?”

  He sighed again. “Patrick would never let me. He would go to his grave thinking he’d ruined my life. I couldn’t do that to him.”

  “What would you do if you could give it up?” Eden asked.

  “I can’t, so why tease myself thinking about it?”

  “But if you could, what would you do? Where would you go?”

  “Maybe I’d go to your American West.” His expression turned serious. “I know a man from Scotland who spent a year out there and can’t wait to go back.”

  “Why would you go to America?” Eden asked, stunned by his answer.

  “Because people there don’t care about titles. I could be anything I wanted and nobody would care.” The excitement faded from his eyes. “Instead, I’m bound by duty to stay here.”

  “What if you weren’t bound by duty?”

  Edward shrugged, shook his head.

  Eden felt as though she were balanced on a precipice. Her next words would decide Edward’s future success or failure. It petrified her to know she had so much power over someone else’s happiness. She didn’t want that power, cringed inwardly at the thought of using it, had no idea where to begin or what to say. She wished the nurse had never told her, but she had and there was no way Eden could escape that knowledge. If she didn’t tell Edward, it would prey on her mind forever. If she did tell him, she would forever bear the responsibility for having divulged something that had the power to shatter his world.

  When it came down to it, she had no way of knowing whether telling Edward would cause greater happiness or greater pain. She thought she understood Edward, but she didn’t understand English society or why Edward would feel constrained to uphold values he didn’t believe in. Nor could she understand why the earl and viscount could continue to spend money on useless frivolities when they knew doing so would force Edward to make a distasteful marriage. Their behavior was unfair and supremely selfish. It was her sense of outrage at the way the viscount had treated Edward that decided her. He had a right to know, a right to make the decision for himself.

  “You aren’t bound by duty,” she told him. “You can leave or stay. The choice is up to you.” Then she told him everything the nurse had said. She was only halfway through when the look on his face made her wish she could take back every word. He seemed to collapse inwardly, withdraw into himself until he shrank in size. She continued, halting between sentences, hoping he would say something, anything, instead of staring at her with empty eyes. When she was finished, silence hung between them.

  “You’ve killed me,” he said finally. “It would have been kinder to use a gun.”

  She’d given him his freedom only by destroying his world. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the night. It was useless to call after him; it would be cruel to go after him. Why had she thought she had the right to tell him what his beloved nurse had kept from him for twenty-five years?

  She made her way back to the house, which loomed before her like something overwhelming and slightly menacing. It was a home, a monument to the human spirit. Yet it could be a prison to crush the human spirit. She didn’t know whether she’d done the right thing by telling Edward or not. Patrick met her as she returned to the house.

  “Where’s Edward?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have any idea?”

  “I don’t think even Edward knows.”

  Edward shook Patrick gently until he woke.

  “Thank God you’re back,” his brother said when he’d rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Where did you go?”

  “I went to see my nurse.”

  “What for?”

  When Edward told him, Patrick looked stricken. “It can’t be true.”

  “It explains why your father hates me. It explains the enmity between him and his sister.”

  “Even if it is true, it doesn’t change anything.”

  “It changes everything,” Edward said. “I’m leaving.”

  “The earl will never let you go.”

  “He won’t know until I’ve gone. Now listen closely. I have a lot of things to tell you and not much time.”

  Edward put his hand over Patrick’s mouth to stop his protests. He told him of his plans for the estate and that Peter Melsome was the best person to help him manage it. He explained his arrangements with the tenants and detailed their strengths and weaknesses. He covered the village of Green Moss and the children who depended on him. He insisted that Patrick hold the fête as planned.

  “My one regret is that I have to leave you,” Edward said. “You’re the best brother any man could have.”

  “You were,” Patrick said through his tears. “Never me.”

  They embraced.

  “When will I see you again?” Patrick asked when Edward stood to leave.

  “This is good-bye,” Edward said and walked through the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Texas Hill Country

  Edward sat across the table from Zeke and Hawk Maxwell. He didn’t know what kind of family he’d expected Eden to have, but finding that Zeke was a black man and Hawk a half-breed Indian was different from anything he’d imagined.

  “You’re not what we were looking for when we advertised for a man with experience working with horses,” Zeke said. “I’ve never been to England, but I’m sure it’s different from Texas.”

  “That difference is the reason I’m here,” Edward replied.

  “That may be,” Hawk began, “but—”

  “Let me tell you why I want this job,” Edward interjected. “After I’m done, if you still want someone else, I won’t say another word.”

  Edward had never had to ask for a job. He didn’t really know how. There was no influence he could bring to bear, no power or prestige he could use to sway these men’s opinion if they turned him down. They were in essence the lords of their own land and could do what they wanted. That was how it had been in England, only he’d been the lord, not the supplicant. This wasn’t the only job that would give him the opportunity he was looking for, but it was the only job available with anyone in Eden Maxwell’s family.

  Despite being nervous, he was amused by the various expressions that crossed Hawk and Zeke’s faces as he told his story. When he’d first met these men, he’d gotten the impression they were more impassive than any Englishman. But as soon as he started talking about Jake, Isabelle, and Eden, their reserve melted. They were amazed, shocked, amused, disbelieving, even laughed aloud.

  “Is all this true?” Zeke asked when Edward was done.

  “Every word.”

  Zeke looked at Hawk and they nodded. “I don’t know if you can do a lick of work,” Zeke said, “but we’ll hire you even if you do talk funny. You’ve got to buy some new clothes though. You look so much like a dude, not even thehorses will pay you any mind.”

  “When can you start?” Hawk asked.

  “I’m ready now,” Edward replied.

  Edward glared at the bunk that was his bed, his place of rest It was hard enough for a man who’d grown up with his own suite of rooms and a personal servant to get used to living in a bunkhouse with two other men, but to expect a man who’d slept in a huge four-poster bed hung with velvet curtains to actually rest in that confined space was ridiculous. But then he still had a hard time believing he was in America. It was more like a long, unending nightmare. He’d come to Texas because he’d believed it would offer him a different life. At times, such as when he attempted to organize his clothes inside a bedroll and saddlebags, he wondered if he was up to the challenge.

  Learning he wasn’t the legitimate heir to the Earl of Southampton had staggered him. He hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Eden she’d killed him. The man he’d thought he was, the man he’d tried to become, had ceased to exist. He’d had no choice but to leave England.

  He’d had enoug
h money to get him and his stallion Crusader to America, but not even English pounds worth almost five American dollars each could last forever. Trying to find a job had turned into a humiliating experience. If his clothes and accent didn’t prejudice people against him, his lack of job skills or experience disqualified him from even such lowly jobs as store clerk or bank teller. He’d never mucked out a stall or pitched hay. It was daunting to discover that twenty-five years of living had qualified him to do nothing useful.

  He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to own his own ranch and breed the fastest horses in Texas, yet how could he do that when he didn’t know how to run a ranch, much less have the money to buy one? Seeing the advertisement in San Antonio for a race with a ten-thousand-dollar purse to the winner had offered a possible solution to one of his problems. He only had to figure out how to get a job so he could learn how to run a ranch while he trained Crusader for the race.

  That was when he’d decided to look for a job with someone in Eden’s family.

  He had refused to let himself believe he was doing it because of his attraction to Eden . . . or because he was furious at her for destroying his life. He was still a distant relation, so if anyone were likely to overlook his lack of experience, the Maxwells would. He was relieved when he’d heard about the opening at Zeke and Hawk’s ranch. At least he knew something about horses.

  Still, he’d come within a hairsbreath of not getting the job. It wasn’t until he’d told them Eden had exposed the secret of his birth that they’d actually shown any willingness to listen. They hadn’t seemed likely to hire him until he said he meant to win the race in San Antonio. Zeke had said Eden expected to win the race with her mare, that he’d get a kick out of seeing her get some real competition. By the time Edward had put Crusader through his paces and promised to let them breed to him if he won the race, they were ready to give Edward the job.

  He dropped down on the bunk, still surprised there was no give. The cotton-stuffed mattress was hard and the board underneath was inflexible. He resolutely forced himself not to think of his down-filled mattress, the spacious room that had contained his clothes, or the luxury of a personal servant to anticipate his every need. After having washed in the horse trough and hung his personal linen on the corral pole to dry, such luxury seemed a foolish waste. He was looking forward to the freedom to be himself, but learning to be a Texan would come at a high price.

  “I’m not sure I should stay with Josie and Suzette unless they ask,” Eden said to her mother. “It’ll soon be time for the children to go back to school. I’ve been gone so long, they’ve probably forgotten everything I taught them.”

  “We weren’t gone that long,” Isabelle said, not taking her gaze from the biscuits she was making.

  Junie Mae turned her attention from the pork loin she was stuffing. “It seemed like it. Everybody said so.”

  “What you mean is they enjoyed not having me butting into their business and wished I’d stayed away longer.”

  “I didn’t mean any such thing,” Junie Mae said, unsure how to treat Isabelle’s remark. Even after three years, she wasn’t accustomed to Isabelle’s blunt sense of humor.

  “The children will enjoy having another month off,” Isabelle said, turning back to Eden. “This fall weather is too nice to spend inside a classroom.”

  Eden finished slicing the peaches intended for a cobbler and washed her hands. “I didn’t think Hawk and Zeke had planned to set up their ranch here for another year or two.”

  Isabelle reached for a biscuit pan. “They didn’t have much choice when Josie and Suzette got pregnant at the same time. They couldn’t find a decent doctor in Tombstone. The physicians there only know about bullet wounds and broken limbs.”

  “They could go to San Antonio,” Eden suggested.

  Isabelle looked up from her biscuit dough. “Don’t you want to help your brothers’ wives?”

  “I don’t want to make them think they’re being treated like invalids. Josie won’t take that well.”

  “Then don’t do it. How many people will be at dinner tonight? Do you think I have enough biscuits?”

  “You never make enough biscuits,” Junie Mae said. “I swear, sometimes I think the men will get into a fight over who gets the last one.”

  Her mother’s biscuits were famous throughout several counties, but Eden was too agitated to get into a discussion about biscuits. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help Josie and Suzette. She’d been out of sorts ever since getting back from England. When Patrick had told her of his brother’s abrupt departure, guilt for telling Edward about the circumstances of his birth had weighed heavily on her heart. The upheaval caused by his disappearance only added to her distress. It was underscored when the fête turned into a dispirited affair. Some of the children broke into tears when they heard Edward was gone. Before day’s end, she’d had to go back to the house to keep from breaking down in public.

  “You won’t have to stay more than a month,” Isabelle told her daughter. “If the babies haven’t come by then, I’ll go.”

  Eden wasn’t sure that was the best plan. Everybody loved her mother. Hers was the iron will, the passionate love that had bound the family so strongly that separations of years and thousands of miles hadn’t broken the bonds. Yet it was that very strength that tended to overwhelm people. Josie and Suzette were still trying to get used to being part of such a huge family, still trying to get used to being in Texas rather than Arizona, still trying to get used to being married, being a wife, and expecting a child. A live-in mother-in-law might be more than they could handle.

  “If you move in with them, Dad will move in a couple days later,” Eden said. “That ought to send them back to Arizona on the first train they can find.”

  Isabelle finished loading the biscuit tray and reached for another. “You don’t have to go,” she said, “but you haven’t been in very good spirits lately. I was hoping a change of scenery would help you feel better.”

  How could she feel better when she’d destroyed a man’s life? You’ve killed me. It would have been kinder to use a gun.

  Edward’s words echoed in her head a dozen times a day. She’d deprived a man of his birthright. He was right. She had killed Edward Davenport, future Viscount Wentworth, future Earl of Southampton. Wherever he went, whatever he did, he would never be that person again.

  Edward hadn’t told the earl or the viscount the reason behind his decision; he’d just left a letter formally renouncing any claim to the title. She wondered if Edward would talk to his mother, if he’d want to get to know her and his half brothers and sisters. She wondered if he’d demand to know the name of his father, want to know what the man was like, want to get to know him.

  Most of all, she wondered if he would always hate her for destroying his life.

  “Zeke and Hawk are competing with Luke to see who can breed the fastest horses,” Eden said to her mother. “I wish they could see Edward’s Crusader.”

  “I doubt the boys are interested in Thoroughbreds,” Isabelle said, busily cutting out biscuits. “They don’t make good cow ponies.”

  Eden tried not to think about Edward or his horses, but dozens of images bombarded her during the day and invaded her dreams at night. At times she wondered how a month of her life could outweigh the rest of her twenty-one years.

  “They won’t care about that,” Eden said. “They just want the honor of breeding the fastest horse.”

  She wondered what had happened to Edward. What he was doing. If he was okay. She supposed she’d never know, but she’d made Patrick swear to write to her if he heard from his brother. She needed to know he was okay.

  “When do you think I should go?” Eden asked her mother.

  “Why not tomorrow? Junie Mae and I can take care of everything here.”

  A school room full of children would keep her from brooding about what she’d done, but spending a month with Zeke and Hawk might be fun. The two men had never been big talkers, but Jo
sie could make up for both of them.

  “I’ll take both my horses so Dad won’t have to worry about them,” she said. Exercising them along with helping Zeke and Hawk with their horses would give her something to do. Maybe she’d stay for a while after the babies were born. With so many nephews and nieces, she was practically an experienced mother.

  That was something else that bothered her. She’d never been in a hurry to marry. But going to England had upset all her expectations of the future. Now men she used to find attractive and interesting bored her. Things she used to do had lost their excitement. Even the Hill Country seemed colorless, lifeless, too familiar. She’d never considered marrying an Englishman, but she couldn’t get Edward out of her mind. Worse, she’d started comparing other men to him. Her mother would say it was a sign she was in love. Eden thought it was more likely a guilty conscience.

  Spending a month at Hawk and Zeke’s ranch could be just what she needed to shake herself out of her depression. She barely knew Suzette and Josie. And being with her two most unusual siblings was always fun. Well, maybe not the most unusual. Luke and Chet had been gunfighters, Pete had impersonated a dead man, and her sister Drew had been a sharpshooter in a Wild West show. Like his adoptive parents, Matt had such a reputation for taking in strays, they found him instead of the other way around.

  She was a schoolteacher, just about the most ordinary thing a woman could be. And her ambition was to be a wife and mother, the most ordinary thing any woman could be. She’d never attract the attention of an intriguing man if she remained hidden away on a ranch. Maybe she should have stayed in England.

  She had caught Edward and Patrick’s interest, but they preferred women who’d been brought up to be obedient, unquestioning, and faithful. Eden was intelligent, educated, attractive, and intellectually curious. She wasn’t afraid of horses, and she knew how to cook. She could dance, carry on a conversation with old ladies without embarrassing herself, and she knew which fork to use. She’d never managed a house the size of Worlege, but she could have learned. She could play the piano a little, sing a little more, and endure both the opera and ballet, though she’d really rather not. Her father could even give her a dowry, if he decided to do something that ridiculous. What was so terrible about her?