The Texan by Carolyn Davidson

Author:Carolyn Davidson [Davidson, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“We’ve come to set a rumor at rest.”

Well, Augusta thought despairingly, that was clear enough. She forced a smile and opened the screened door, inviting the visitors inside.

“Gussie, get in here and do your stuff.” From the parlor, Cleary’s voice was impatient, and Augusta closed her eyes, a rare feeling of helplessness enfolding her.

“Your stuff?” Penelope repeated, her voice rising on the final word, imbuing it with a whole new meaning. “What on earth—”

“Mr. Cleary really isn’t up to having visitors right now,” Augusta said quickly, moving to shield the open parlor doors from the minister’s sharp gaze.

“What’s wrong with him? Can I help?” His forehead wrinkling with concern, the man brushed past Augusta’s firm stance and came to a halt beneath the lintel of the parlor door. “Well,” he said uneasily, “I’d say you have a situation here.”

“I’d be glad to lend a hand,” Penelope said, striding from the open screened door to where her husband stood.

“Get back, Pen,” he said abruptly, turning to grasp her arms, turning her aside before she could catch sight of Cleary’s bare skin exposed below his waistband.

Augusta closed her eyes, weaving where she stood. “This isn’t what it appears to be,” she said faintly. “Mr. Cleary has a problem—”

“I can see that,” Mr. Young said sternly. His steely gaze met Augusta’s eyes just as Cleary turned his head toward the door.

“What the—” Cut off in mid-thought, he glared at Augusta, then in turn at the minister and beyond him to where Penelope stared wide-eyed at the man whose pale skin held a large, rectangular bandage. “Why don’t we just charge admission while we’re at it, Augusta?”

It was too much. Considering the long night with little sleep, and a mountain of worry keeping her company, then the rush home in the darkness before dawn to find food for Cleary, and change her own clothes, she decided she was worn-out. Now to be faced with the most dignified couple in town, with Cleary’s bottom almost exposed in the middle of the parlor…

It was indeed too much. Augusta felt the first tears begin their slow slide down her cheeks, and heard Cleary’s choice curse words as he struggled to get to his feet. One hand clutched at the waistband of his trousers, the other leaning heavily on the back of a leather chair, as he stood with dark hair hanging over his forehead, his eyes like black marbles.

“Don’t you dare cry, Augusta McBride. Tears never solve anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say, young man.” Penelope’s judgment was stern, her mouth drawn in a firm moue as she faced Cleary. “A bad reputation doesn’t mean much to a man like you, but to Miss McBride it could be the end of her world as she knows it.”

Cleary stood as upright as he was going to get, at least for now, and his jaw jutted forward as he buttoned the fly of his pants. “Well, I’d say the world as she knows it could be improved upon mightily.

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