Free Denim and Lace by Diana Palmer Page B

she tried to throw Bess.
    Giving her up would be almost as hard as giving up Spanish House. But there was no choice. There wouldn’t be any place in San Antonio where she could afford to keep a horse. Tina had to go. There had already been two offers for her, but Bess had refused both. One was from a woman with a mean-looking husband, who’d said haughtily that he knew how to handle a horse—all it took was a good beating. The second offer had come from a teenage girl who wanted the horse desperately but wasn’t sure she could come up with the money it would take to buy Tina and then to house and feed her. The girl’s parents didn’t even have a barn.
    She sighed as she saddled Tina and rode her down to the creek. It was a beautiful day for winter, and even though her jacket felt good, it would probably be warm enough to go in her shirtsleeves later. Texas weather was unpredictable, she mused.
    Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the other horse until it was almost upon her. She turned in the saddle to see Cade riding up beside her on his buckskin gelding.
    Her heart ran away. Despite the way they’d parted company the night before, just the sight of him was heaven. But she kept her eyes averted so that he wouldn’t see how hopeless she felt.
    â€œI thought it was you,” Cade said, leaning over the saddle horn to study her. “You sit that oversize cayuse pretty good.”
    â€œThanks,” she said quietly. Any praise from Cade was rare. She shifted restlessly in the saddle and didn’t look at him. She was still smarting from his hurtful remarks of the night before, and she wondered why he’d approached her.
    â€œBut you still haven’t got those stirrups right.”
    â€œNo point now,” she sighed. “She’s going to be sold at auction. This is my last ride.”
    His dark eyes studied her in the silence of open country, flatland reaching to the horizon, vivid blue skies and not a sound except for an occasional barking dog. She was distant, and he had only himself to blame. He hadn’t slept, remembering how he’d treated her the night before.
    â€œIf I could afford her, I’d buy her from you,” he said gently. “But I can’t manage it now.”
    She bit her lower lip. It was so kind...
    â€œDon’t, for God’s sake, start crying,” he said. “I can’t stand tears.”
    She forced herself not to break down. She shook her head to clear her eyes as she stared at the range and not at him. “What are you doing out here so early?”
    â€œLooking for you,” he said heavily. “I said some harsh things to you last night.” He bent his head to light a cigarette, because he hated apologies. “I didn’t mean half of them.”
    She turned in the saddle, liking the familiar creak of the leather, the way Tina’s head came up and she tossed her mane. Familiar things, familiar sounds, that would soon be memories. “It’s all right,” she said. The almost-apology brought the light back into her life. She felt so vulnerable with him. “I guess you felt like saying worse, because of all the trouble we’ve caused you and your family.”
    â€œI told you before that it wasn’t completely your father’s fault.”
    â€œYes, but—”
    â€œWhat will you do?”
    Her eyes glanced off his and back to the saddle horn. “Go to San Antonio. Mama doesn’t want to, but it’s the only place I can find work.”
    â€œ You can find work?” he exploded.
    She cringed at the white heat in his deep, slow voice. “Now, Cade...”
    â€œDon’t you ‘Now, Cade’ me!” he said shortly. “There’s nothing wrong with Gussie. Why can’t she go to work and help out?”
    â€œShe’s never had to work,” she said, wondering why she should defend her mother when she agreed wholeheartedly with