Give Me A Texan. Jodi Thomas
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in his life had seemed fine until he met Aggie, then he noticed the emptiness. And, it had happened in the darkness outside, before he’d seen her face. He admired her honesty, her spirit, but her beauty made him nervous.
For a while he worried about what she’d think of his house, then he remembered Charlie’s dugout and decided she’d like his place just fine. She wasn’t his real wife, he reminded himself. Not in the true sense of it. But to the town, to his friends, she would be. Somewhere in their discussion of the rules for this partnership, they’d agreed to keep the arrangement between them. Which suited him fine. He wasn’t sure anyone would believe him even if he tried to explain. She’d told him that he could touch her in any way that would be acceptable in public, but that she’d not be ordered around anywhere. He grinned, guessing she’d had enough bossing with four older sisters.
Her determination to work surprised him. He hadn’t missed the way, after telling him of her dream to be a gunsmith, that she’d waited as if she expected him to argue.
He’d told her Amarillo had several places that sold guns, but no gunsmith to repair them. He offered to speak to Jeb Diggs at the mercantile and ask if he’d put out a sign.
Hank smiled again, realizing he’d smiled more tonight than he had in months. Once he mentioned the sign, she’d asked questions, wanting to know all about the possibilities of her working. Aggie told him about her small box of tools and said she could mail order more with the first money she made.
For a few moments her shyness had disappeared. She’d promised him she’d pay her way, buying her own clothes and paying for half the food. The last thing she’d said before falling asleep was that she’d be no trouble to him at all as if by agreeing to marry her he’d somehow taken on an extra burden.
Touching her hand with one finger, he wondered how such a delicate creature could want to work with weapons. Her blue-green eyes had sparkled at the thought though, and if that was what she wanted, he’d do his best to see it happened. He had a feeling, trouble or not, great changes were coming in his life, and all he could think was that it was about time.
He rubbed his chin against her auburn hair. She’d been asleep an hour. They’d be pulling into Wichita Falls soon. He knew all the noise would wake her, but he wasn’t ready to have her pull away. They might be strangers, but she felt so right against his side.
The whistle blew as the train slowed. As he knew she would, Aggie straightened and replaced her bonnet. “Are we close to your home?”
“No,” he managed to answer while thinking how ugly her hat fitted her face and hid the color of her hair. “We’ve only made the first leg, but there’s a café here that stays open for this train. You hungry?”
She nodded.
“Twenty-minute stop,” the porter yelled as he passed. “We don’t wait for anyone.”
Aggie’s hand slid around Hank’s arm as they rushed from the train. “Does the wound pain you?”
He covered her cold fingers with his. “I’d forgotten about it.” He guided her into the café.
After they ordered, Hank decided to voice his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking since I just sold a few cattle that you should go ahead and order those tools you need right away. There’s a mercantile across from the station.” He added in almost a whisper, “We could also pick up any clothes you might need and maybe a hat to protect your face from the sun.”
She looked up from her coffee. “I’ll keep a record and pay you back.”
He nodded, guessing she wouldn’t accept the money any other way, and was thankful she didn’t take offense at his suggestion of a new hat. “I could build you a bench in the barn to work. I have a bench out there where I’m always intending to build a few pieces of furniture, but I never seem to have the time. You could work with me on warm days, then when it gets cold you could use the kitchen table as a work area.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t. If we’re to truly have this partnership, then half the barn, as well as the kitchen, is already yours.”
“Thank you,” she said as the cook delivered two bowls of chili with cornbread on the side.
When they were alone she added, “Mr. Harris, would you consider telling me why you married me?” She’d talked freely of her work and the rules, but she must think this question personal for her shyness returned.
“Don’t you think you should call me Hank?”
She shook her head and looked down at her hands. He finished half his chili before she spoke. “My father told me once that my mother never called him anything but ‘dear.’ Would you consider it too bold if I did the same?”
No one had ever referred to him as dear. “I wouldn’t mind.” He wanted to add that she’d just made this bargain worthwhile even if she didn’t do another thing, but all he said was, “I married you because you needed me.”
She looked surprised. “Not because you wanted me or because folks say I’m pretty or because you needed a wife to help out?”
He shook his head. “You know you’re pretty. In fact, I think you may be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, but I wouldn’t have offered if that were all there was to you. In the dark, when we met, I saw your dreams, your hopes and, when we went inside, it didn’t take much to see that those two fools would never make them happen.”
She laughed, but her eyes studied him as if searching for a lie. “And will you?”
“Nope,” he answered between bites, “but you will.”
They ate the rest of the meal in silence with him wondering if she believed him. When they left the café and ran for the train she huddled close to him. The wind blew hard from the north. Hank could feel a storm coming and he hoped he made it home before it hit.
When they settled back into their seats, the car was empty except for a drunk snoring on the last bench. Aggie tugged off her shoes, doubled her legs beneath her skirts, and shifted so that her back rested on the window. Hank folded his leather coat and made a pillow for her to lean against.
“Thank you, dear,” she said as casually as if she’d said the endearment all her life.
“You’re welcome,” he managed.
Hank had been an only child raised by a father who seldom said more than was necessary to anyone, including him. He was totally unprepared for Aggie. As the train pulled away from Wichita Falls and moved into the night, she began to talk, shyly at first. She told him of her home and her father, then she described all four of her sisters and how they’d married one by one and moved away.
Hank listened.
Tears bubbled in her eyes when she talked about how lonely her father seemed with all the girls gone except her. She loved working beside him and he’d taught her all he knew, but there still seemed to be this big hole in him that didn’t fill until he began stepping out with Widow Forbes.
Hank liked the sound of Aggie’s voice and the way emotions reflected in her face. He saw pride when she talked about her skill, and sadness when she told of leaving home and knowing if she ever returned she’d be a visitor in another woman’s house. Anger also danced in her blue-green depths when she described how her sisters passed her from one to the other, each adding another layer of reasons why she wasn’t married.
He could read in her eyes far more than she told. He’d bet the five hundred dollars in his pocket that she’d been her father’s favorite and her sisters had resented it. He’d also bet the sisters hadn’t wasted much time looking for the best man for Aggie.
Like a top spinning down, she finally said all she had to say. She must have waited a long time to find someone who would listen.
“You tired?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Turn