Lorraine Heath Read Online Free Page B

it, pulling it back into that coil she was wearing the day before. He liked the way it looked now, drooping as it was. He secretly hoped it might work its way free and tumble down her back.
    Dallas would, of course, prefer to see every strand pulled back and held in its proper place. The man was a stickler for orderliness, but Houston had always thought a woman’s hair should flow around her as freely as the wind blew across the prairie.
    He thought about describing Dallas’s ranch, but she’d see it soon enough, and he didn’t have the skill with words to do the place justice. A discussion of his own place probably wouldn’t interest her. It was a pretty piece of land, but it would never bring a man wealth or glory.
    “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” she asked.
    “I’m sure,” he replied, cursing his gut for jumping into his throat at the sound of her voice. All he had to do was sit still while she ate and give her no reason to bring up her breakfast. The sight of his face had made him bring up his meals a few times in the beginning, but that was years ago when the wounds were still raw … and the guilt still festering.
    Amelia tore off a piece of warm bread and lathered it with butter, quietly studying the man sitting across from her. His gaze remained fixed on his hat, his brow furrowed as though he were desperately searching for something just beyond reach.
    “How did you and your brothers come by your names?” she asked before she bit into the bread with enthusiasm.
    “Our parents lacked imagination. They just named us after wherever it was they were living at the time we were born.”
    “I suppose you’re grateful that they weren’t living in Galveston when you were born.”
    He seemed to contemplate her answer for a moment, as though she’d made her comment in all earnestness. His jaw tensed. “I reckon I would be if I’d ever thought about it.”
    She had hoped for a smile, a chuckle, a laugh, but Houston Leigh appeared to be a man who did not give into lighthearted banter or teasing. That knowledge saddened her. Everyone needed smiles and laughter to replace the absence of sunshine in a stormy life. She hoped the brothers didn’t share this stern outlook on life. “Do you think Dallas will want to carry on the family tradition and name our children after towns in Texas?”
    “I’m not sure what names he favors.” He shifted in his chair and brought one foot up, resting it on his knee.
    Amelia chewed slowly on the bacon and eggs, savoring the flavors, wondering how she could gather all the information about her future husband that she didn’t have. Letters could only reveal a man’s thoughts. She did not know his smile, the sound of his laughter, or the way emotions might play across his features. She was incredibly curious about every aspect of him and his life. “Dallas mentioned Austin quite often in his letters.”
    Houston gave a brusque nod. “He’s right fond of Austin. You’ll like him, too. He’s the sort people take to right away.”
    As he spoke of his younger brother, a trace of warmth flowed through his voice, reminding her of snuggling before a fire on a cold winter’s night. She wanted to keep the flames flickering. “I don’t remember how old Austin is.”
    “Sixteen.”
    “Then he’s spared any memories of the war.” “I doubt that.”
    Amelia set her fork down. “But he would have been so young. Surely he doesn’t remember—”
    Houston slid his foot off his knee, and it hit the floor with a resounding thud. He shifted in the chair. “I’d rather not talk about the war, if you don’t mind.”
    “No, I don’t mind,” she said softly, aware that she’d lost the warmth in his voice, in his manner. He clenched his jaw as though he were fighting desperately to remain where he was. She could feel the tension radiating around him, palpable in its intensity. Although more than ten long years had passed, the war still continued to rip through