Free Tall, Dark, and Texan by JODI THOMAS Page A

somehow he’d hardened to stone.
    She laid her hand over Teagen’s arm. If only to her, he didn’t seem as unyielding as the world thought him to be. She knew the Teagen of the letters, the one who worried and bragged and loved this land. “Thank you for bringing me out here. It’s like I stepped into the pages of a book for a little while tonight.”
    “You’re welcome.” He turned his horse toward the house, now only a spot of light in the distance. “You must be ready to get back. It’s getting late.”
    “No,” she said without thinking.
    She couldn’t see his face beneath the shadow of his hat, but she knew he was studying her. Finally, he said, “There’s a place behind the house where you can see almost the whole ranch. Would you like to see that?”
    “Yes, please.”
    As they rode toward Lookout Point, Jessie wondered why Martha thought Teagen was so impossible to get along with. To her, he’d been kinder than anyone ever had.
    She rested her back against his chest, thinking that if he ever found out she’d written the letter and signed Eli’s name, she’d probably see the hard side of Teagen. The lies she’d told him seemed to be piling up. She couldn’t stay here forever and wait for relatives who weren’t going to show up. When she’d stepped off the stage, she’d told herself she had to find a place to rest and think. Now she had to find the courage to face her lie.
    A few more days, she almost whispered aloud. Let me stay in this place for just a little longer, then I’ll be stronger.

CHAPTER 8
    TEAGEN DIDN’T SAY A WORD AS HE GUIDED THE ROAN up the rocky slope to where a ledge provided the perfect viewing point. Jessie seemed relaxed in his arms, moving with him as the horse shifted with the climb.
    He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about her as a woman. She was the widow of his only friend. She was pregnant. Hell, he thought, in a few weeks she’ll be headed out of here and on her way to California with her own people. He’d never see her again. By the time she finished mourning Eli, she’d be so far away he’d be lucky if mail reached her.
    Teagen might not know her well, but he’d bet his horse she wasn’t the kind of woman who’d consider a friendly roll in the hay before she left. And, he decided, neither was he. Early in his twenties he’d danced a few rounds with the kind of women who cuddle up easy and then didn’t remember a fellow’s name come morning. He discovered that no matter how interested he might have been after a few drinks at night, he couldn’t wait to get away the next morning.
    “Cold?” he asked more gruffly than he’d meant to.
    “No.” She patted his arm. “I’m fine.” Leaning her head against his shoulder, she added, “The stars look so bright here.”
    It never occurred to Teagen that the stars wouldn’t appear to be the same anywhere. The only town of any size he’d ever been in was Austin. With four thousand people running around, he didn’t remember having time to look at the sky. Funny thing, he’d been born here, born beneath this sky, and in a way he thought of it as his.
    “My father used to bring me up here at night.” The horse slowed as they reached the edge of the shelf twice again as high as the ranch house. “We’d come up here, and he’d tell me about his dream for this place. About how we’d raise the finest horses ever and how his sons and grandsons and great-grandsons would leave their mark on this piece of Texas.”
    Teagen could never remember talking so much, but once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “The night before he left, he brought all three of us up here. Tobin was only six. He fell asleep and almost tumbled out of his saddle. We all knew our father was leaving the next day, and he’d be gone until the fight for Texas was over. But he didn’t talk about leaving us. He talked about how much he loved this place.”
    Teagen felt her fingers brushing across the muscle on his forearm as if she