My Heart Will Find Yours by Linda LaRoque Page A

don’t know how to cook.”
    “We’ll see about that.” He grabbed his shotgun and hat, and taking her arm, escorted her out of his office. Jason sat at the desk, a look of resolve on his face. “I’m taking Texanna home. Send someone for me if there’s trouble.”
    “Will do, Royce.”
    Outside, the street was full of curious people. Royce ignored them as he stowed his shotgun and tied her carpetbag onto the saddle. He lifted her onto Samson and mounted behind her. Before they rode off, he turned her face around to meet his and kissed her. A roar of approval vibrated around them. When she caught her breath, she hissed, “What was that for?”
    “Why darlin’, I’m letting the town know my wife has returned.”
    ****
    From inside Millie’s Hat Boutique, a pair of hazel eyes narrowed as they focused on the doings in front of the marshal’s office. As Marshal Dyson and the woman rode off, Danielle bit back her tears and looked down at the hat hanging limply in her hands. She’d have to buy the damn thing now. It was twisted beyond recognition.
    “Millie, put this on my tab, please. I’m in a big hurry so no need to bother wrapping it up.” She headed for the door.
    Millie seemed shocked at her rushed purchase—in truth she usually tried on every hat in the place, but now she just wanted to leave. The shopkeeper grabbed the finest hatbox in the store, and asked, “Are you sure? It won’t take a minute.”
    “I’m sure.” And she was out the door, the bell ringing at the vibration of the slam.
    Danielle passed the storefront and tossed the hat into the nearest garbage barrel. How dare that man come calling on her, invite her to the July Fourth dance, and then pick right back up with that woman the minute she comes back in town. Her face burned with mortification. She’d already told her friends she had a date with Royce. Being dumped by him for that redhead the first time was bad enough. How would she get past being humiliated again?
    ****
    They rode along in silence. Texanna tried to sit up straight and not lean against his broad chest, but finally gave up and relaxed. One of his arms circled her waist while the other held the reins. If the close contact bothered him, he didn’t let on.
    From the road she could see the Brazos River winding along through the trees. As the road neared the river, large sandstone rocks bordered it to keep wheels or horses from getting too close. She peeked over the edge to see boulders, dirt, and scrub brush blanketed the descent all the way to the water.
    A small white farmhouse sat back from the west side of the road. “Who lives there?”
    “Agnes Farley. Most folks call her Aggie. She’s a widow lady and takes care of Garrett when I’m working. He’ll spend the night there tonight, so you’ll meet him tomorrow or the next day.”
    A short distance down the road, he turned down a lane that led to another white farmhouse. It loomed larger, with two stories and clapboard siding. Twin rocking chairs sat on a porch running the width of the house. Lilac bushes grew at each corner of the porch and several old oaks shaded the front and back yards. It was a picturesque view. Texanna could see Pearl living here.
    “This is nice. Bet Pearl used to have lots of flowers in that front bed.”
    He didn’t comment, but dismounted and lifted her down. “Go inside. I’ll put Samson away for the night.”
    Inside, Texanna walked into the wide center hall with transoms above the doors at each end. She stepped into the parlor. The furniture was sparse and plain but pillows and crocheted doilies brightened the room. She fingered a delicate scarf and imagined Pearl sitting in one of the chairs crocheting by lamplight. She stepped across the hall into the dining room. It held a beautiful oak table with six chairs and an open hutch. She examined the china lined up across the shelf. Pearlina’s dishes were delicate, painted in pastels, and dust free. Someone had been cleaning for