It was infuriating that the thought of three more years of estranged marriage to Helena settled his contrary heart.
He forced his mind off that confusing thought and back onto Helena’s house. It wasn’t a palace. Not even a particularly large house. The long, low building formed a U, with a Spanish-style courtyard in the middle. Overlapping clay tiles covered the peaked roof. The walls were whitewashed adobe, with deep windows, and a homey porch ran the whole length, along the front and on both sides.
Helena had ordered him off that porch the day of the Varga raid. That was when he’d realized he’d never get another wink of sleep, worrying about her safety if—make that when—the raiders attacked Shamrock.
They’d been merciless with the wives of the shepherds at Belleza, more animals than men. While Brendan mourned the loss of all those women, at least they hadn’t had to live with the memories of what had been done to them. He’d never get that sight out of his head. The thought of Helena being next on the list had scared him right to her front door.
To a place he’d sworn never to set foot.
To protect a woman he couldn’t stop caring for.
A woman he couldn’t even talk to without a battle breaking out.
He squinted against the glare of the sun and stared at the white house with the red tile roof. She lived there, his Helena did. Slept there. Slept there alone, dammit. And she tempted him.
She’d been alone all the time he’d been gone.
Visions of her asleep in his arms haunted him, and had since the day he’d left her standing outside the land office. He’d assumed memories of their lovemaking would plague him. Those specters of the past did visit his dreams, disturbing his sleep. More often than not, he’d wake with an unmerciful hard-on, and memories of her fresh in his mind. He’d force himself to roll over, and hope to keep on dreaming.
But surprisingly, it was memories of her beautiful face as she’d slept, secure in his arms, that often rose unbidden to stalk even his waking moments. They were thoughts only constant danger kept at bay. Which, he supposed, was how he’d gotten his reputation for going into situations even other Texas Rangers shied away from.
Dealing with memories of Helena now led to one he tried to block, but never seemed to manage to for very long. His mind rolled back to the day it all went to hell....
* * *
“I have a surprise,” Helena said when she rushed out the door of their tiny shack of a house on the outskirts of Tierra del Verde. He’d been gone for two weeks, helping drive supplies. He’d picked up the job when one of the regular freight drivers got hurt in a brawl in the Golden Garter.
Since they’d arrived in the sweet little town of Tierra del Verde, Brendan had been putting in hours at the livery and anywhere else he could make a dollar to support them. If he had a bit left over at the end of the month, he put it aside to save for a small ranch. He longed to be his own boss. Then how hard he worked would have a direct effect on how much money he made. It was a small dream, but it was the Holy Grail to someone raised in Wheatonburg, Pennsylvania, in the shadow of Harlan Wheaton’s big house, his mining operation and the town he owned lock, stock and people.
Brendan was bone-tired and not sure he was up to a surprise. Still, he followed her inside, where she led him to the small settee that defined their parlor space. He forced a smile for Helena’s sake and took in her happiness. She was like air to a drowning man. He’d missed her so much. She’d given up everything to come West and live as his wife. “Now what is it you have planned?” he asked.
“Joshua, Abby and Daniel are here. They arrived the day you left. They wanted to surprise us.”
He’d missed his sister and nephew terribly. Joshua, too. “I’ve missed two weeks with them? How long will they be here?”
“They aren’t visiting. Joshua bought the bank and moved them here. He decided to follow Abby’s dream, knowing it was the best thing for Daniel. And speaking of best... Best of all is he did it, Bren.”
Brendan narrowed his eyes. “What is it my brother-in-law did?”
“Joshua cleared your name. He stood up in court back in Pennsylvania and proved you’d been framed by his father and Franklin Gowery. They were both forced to admit there’d been no evidence to prove you were involved but your badly forged initials in the company store’s receipt book.”
Brendan blinked, then let out a deep breath he felt he’d been holding for half a year. “He did it? I didn’t think he could. I’m free?” She nodded and watched the joy bloom on his face as the realization sank in. “I’m free.”
“Even better, Joshua untangled my assets from Franklin Gowery’s control. My guardian can never touch us again. We’re both free. And we’re rich.”
It was like having a weight lifted from him, only to have that same weight dropped right back on his shoulders again. Brendan’s efforts all these months were like a dandelion puff in the wind—weak and powerless. Once again she could buy and sell him.
“No. You’re rich, Helena. I told you the day we decided to make a go of this marriage you so handily arranged.”
She covered his hand with hers and he stared down at it. A hand that had been soft and lily-white was now rough and red with toil. His belly tightened with dread. Her hands now looked like his mother’s had. Would this life kill her, as sure as life in a mining town had killed his ma?
He could feel Helena willing him to look at her. When he raised his gaze to hers, he saw worry in her blue eyes. “But I told you I wanted to buy that ranch for us if I got control of my funds in time. That’s what the money’s for. For us. The ranch house isn’t much better than this place, but the land, Bren. It’s huge. And ours for the taking. We can build Shamrock, just like we planned. The widow woman says her husband had a herd of longhorns. They only need to be gathered in and the steers taken to San Antonio. Our Shamrock is out there waiting for us to rename it and make it into a legacy for our children.”
Brendan pulled his hand from under hers and paced to the open door, to stare out at the rolling landscape of the Texas Hill Country. “That’s your dream. I never wanted anything so grand. I want to build what you simply want to buy. I won’t have it.”
He wouldn’t live on her father’s ill-gotten gains. On what amounted to blood money—blood of men like his own father, who’d left his leg in one of Wheaton’s mines. Brendan didn’t understand how she could expect it of him.
“It’s our chance, Bren.” She sounded so reasonable. “We have to take it. An opportunity like this won’t come along again. If we don’t step up, there’s someone else who wants it. The widow doesn’t want to have to sell it to him, but she can’t wait any longer. She wants to sell to us. You’ll see. It’ll be a wonderful place to raise a family.”
“No,” he said flatly.
It hurt to see her anguish and realize she cared more for a piece of land than she did for his self-respect. Didn’t she know him at all? He’d told her they’d make it on what he provided. She clearly didn’t believe in him; it was as simple as that. He fisted his hand next to his leg. “You have to have everything now. You don’t want to work hard for it. You want it handed to you, the same way everything has been your entire life.”
She stiffened her spine and raised her chin. “It’s too late to back out. I already bought it. They’re waiting at the land office for us to sign the papers.”
“I won’t sign any papers. I won’t be bought.”
She stared at him, her eyes narrowed in thought or disbelief. He wasn’t sure he knew her this way. Maybe he’d never known her at all. “Bought? You think that’s what I want to do—buy you, like a slave? Imprison you?”
He felt the words like a knife slash to his heart. He knew she meant nothing like that, but he couldn’t give in on