Page 86 of Texas Honor
“You really are,” he assured her. “I’m going to show you a sea of wildflowers. Texas meadows look like fairyland in spring.”
He led them back toward the farm road, then turned to the south. They were facing a field that looked as if it had been paint-splattered. It was alive with color.
“The blue is bluebonnets, our state flower,” he announced, sweeping his hand toward the distant horizon, where dust clouds told them men were massing cattle. “The orange and red is Mexican hat and Indian paintbrush, and there are daisies and some blooming thornbushes mixed in with it. All this used to be prairie,” he added with a wistful look. “Black with buffalo herds, unspoiled. It’s a pity what we have to trade for progress.”
“Will the buffalo come back?” Becky asked.
Gabe leaned his forearms over the pommel and shook his head. The leather creaked with the smooth motion of his body. “Afraid not, honey. They’re gone, like the pioneers and the Indians. Gone in a rage of passion called westward expansion.”
“Reactionary,” Maggie accused gently. “You’d like to tear up the cities and start over.”
He turned toward her. “Sure I would.” He grinned. “I’m a cattleman. I like plenty of space and no fences.”
“You were born a hundred years too late.”
“Amen to that,” he agreed. He sighed, glancing toward the dust. “Well, I hate to do it, but I’ll have to get you two home so that I can go back to work. Becky, we’ll go over to Dane’s late this afternoon and see about that pup. What do you say?”
The child grinned. “I think you’re terrific, Uncle Gabe.”
“Do you like it here, honey?” he asked, suddenly serious.
“Oh, yes,” Becky sighed, her face radiant as she stared around. “I wish I could live here always.”
He looked over her head at Maggie, whose own eyes dropped. She didn’t know if she could give him what he’d demand if she married him. Marriage terrified her, he had to know that.Please,she thought,please don’t back me into a corner.
He seemed to understand what she was feeling, because he didn’t say another word about it. Instead, he began talking about puppies again, and on this happy topic Becky kept up an enthusiastic monologue all the way home.
The days went quickly after that. Gabe always found time to spend with Becky and her mother. He bought the collie puppy for Becky and convinced her that they had to wait until it was weaned to bring it home. It was only for a few days, and he kept the little girl busy with all sorts of adventures.
He found a bird’s nest for her to explore one day. The next, he drove her and Maggie in the truck to a small creek that ran right across a dirt road, where Becky could wade and chase butterflies that lifted in swirls of color from the damp sand. He always had a surprise for Becky. And like any child, she responded to his attention with slow but genuine affection. As time passed, she relaxed and actually seemed to trust him. Maggie, whose own feelings for Gabe had fluctuated wildly from anger to affection, was having trouble adjusting to his sudden switch in attitude toward her. Becky was getting all the attention now. Gabe hadn’t made a move toward her physically since the day they’d gone riding. He seemed to be deliberately letting things cool off between them. He was gentle with her, and he teased her and picked at her in a roughly affectionate way. But he hadn’t made another pass at her, and although it was a kind of relief in one way, it was a bitter disappointment in another. Maggie couldn’t begin to understand herself these days.
Things were going along fine when a phone call came for her one day while Janet and Gabe were out. It was from her attorney in San Antonio, telling her that Dennis had initiated the custody suit. And as she’d dreaded, he’d named Gabe as her lover, claiming that she was unfit to raise a child when she was openly living with a man in an illicit fashion.
Maggie was devastated. She didn’t mention it to the family, but Gabe seemed to sense something was wrong. He watched her as they went to get Becky’s pup, his eyes narrowed and thoughtful.
“He’s filed, hasn’t he?” he asked under his breath when Becky cuddled the pup on the way back home.
“Yes,” she said miserably, glancing over the seat of his Lincoln to the happy little girl in the back seat. “I don’t know how to tell her.”
“Leave that to me,” he said gently. “I’ll handle it. Just relax, Miss Turner. You’re going to be fine. So is Becky.” And he began to whistle as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But Maggie was beginning to understand him now. And she knew he had something up his sleeve.
Becky carried her collie into the house with almost comical care, cuddling it and telling it not to be afraid. It was a sable-and-white female, and Becky was on top of the world. She showed the tiny animal to the whole household, delighted when Janet asked to hold it and cuddled it warmly. She could hardly bear to put it down long enough to have supper. It was fascinating, the change that small animal was making in the shy, withdrawn child. In fact, Maggie mused, watching her, the change Becky and Gabe had made in each other was amazing. The cold, taciturn man and the shy child had lit candles each for the other. They were both changing, day by day; opening up, warming. Janet had mentioned it to Maggie, who was seeing it at even closer range.
Becky walked up to Gabe when it was time for her to go to bed and looked at him with worshiping eyes.
“I wish you were my father,” she said with such wistfulness in her voice that Gabe’s face actually softened.
He hesitated for a minute, studying the delicate little face with a curious, searching expression. He glanced at Maggie and seemed to come to a decision about something.
He went down on one knee, so that he could see Becky’s eyes. “I’m not always going to be pleasant,” he said matter-of-factly, talking to her as if she were an adult. “I have a temper. I lose it. Sometimes I get impatient with people, and there are times when I want to be alone. I may hurt your feelings sometimes without realizing it. You might wish you’d never come here.”
Becky nodded, clutching the puppy to her chest. “I have bad days, too,” she said very somberly. “But I like you even when you’re mad.”
He laughed softly. “I like you, too. So how do you feel about staying here?”
“You mean, like a vacation?”
He shook his head. “I mean permanently.”