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  "Isn't it a little low-cut for a young girl?” he muttered defensively.

  "Papa, I'm not a young girl. I'm twenty-two years old,” Jessica protested, “and I've seen respectable women here in Texas wearing dresses more revealing than this."

  "Who?” snorted her father.

  "Well—” Jessica thought back. “Two years ago I noticed a particularly beautiful blonde woman at the theater in Fort Worth. Her name was Mrs. Gresham."

  Much to Jessica's surprise, both her mother and father turned pale, and her father, his face tightening with angry disapproval, seemed about to speak until Anne took his arm and whisked him out into the hall to receive the first of the guests.

  What could be wrong with Mrs. Gresham? Jessica wondered as she followed her parents. She had been told that the woman was a banker's wife, which seemed eminently respectable.

  She had been dancing all evening. Mr. Parnell's interest had inspired that of other young men, particularly a neighbor named Gavrell Pickering, whom she had found tedious when she was in pigtails and still did. Not only had he insisted on claiming two spaces on her dance card, but he had cut in while she was dancing with Mr. Parnell, who had been telling her fascinating things about the oil-drilling business. Gavrell, on the other hand, talked about some bull he'd just bought and shipped in from Kentucky. What a dreary young man!

  Mr. Parnell had four dances, the most her mother considered allowable to one partner, and he escorted her in to dinner. One curious thing she noticed about Mr. Parnell was that he had little to say about his early boyhood. Jessica had told him all about her own childhood, even about Frannie slipping the snake into the church offering plate, causing Mrs. Artemis Culp to scream and faint, although it was just a tiny garter snake; and about the time her brothers had chloroformed the skunk and left it in the headmaster's parlor; and about how jealous she'd been when Papa had sent her off to school in Washington and Frannie had taken her place with Ned and David. “They're all wonderful riders,” said Jessica wistfully. “And good with stock. I'm the one who's left out now."

  But when she asked about his early life, he said brusquely, “My mother died when I was five, my father when I was eight."

  "And that's when you went to live with your guardian?” she asked, wanting to know everything about him.

  "No,” he replied, “Joe Ray picked me up off the streets four years later.” Momentarily prodded into indiscretion by anger when he compared his childhood, for which he held Jessica's mother responsible, with the opportunities and the love she had had, Travis gave her a window into the worst years of his life. “I fended for myself in Fort Worth from the time I was eight until I was twelve—sleeping in packing cases, wearing rags I got out of church barrels, cleaning out stables and shining shoes for pennies.” He stared bleakly down at his plate and added, “Stealing if I had to.” There he managed to stop himself before he told too much and frightened her off.

  Her eyes were wide and shocked. “I even got some schooling,” he added, “although my fellow students weren't very friendly to homeless, unwashed boys turning up in their midst. I pretty much had to fight off all comers."

  "Travis, that's—that's—"

  "Pathetic,” he suggested, resenting both her inquisitiveness and her sympathy. He did notice that she had slipped and called him Travis rather than her usual, formal Mr. Parnell.

  "No,” she said slowly. “It's admirable. You survived, and look how far you've come. It makes me wonder how I could possibly feel sorry for myself. I had every advantage, and I certainly haven't done much with my life."

  Disarmed by the fact that her assessment of their comparative opportunities and achievements matched his, he muttered, “Women aren't expected to do much with their lives."

  "Maybe not, but I hoped to do something with mine,” snapped Jessica.

  Repenting his own surliness, Travis said, “You've lots of time.” Couples were then beginning to drift back to the dance floor, and he asked, “Do you really have to dance again with Pickering?"

  "Not if he can't find me,” she replied, feeling daring and breathless at what she was about to propose, but then the breathlessness might be due to the fact that her mother had laced her so tightly, which for once she hadn't protested. “If we went out to the veranda, I doubt Gavrell would think of looking for me there.” She didn't want Travis to think for a minute that she preferred Gavrell Pickering because he was wealthy while Travis had just confessed to such a poor, sad childhood.

  Travis accepted her offer by grinning and whisking her into the hall so quickly that no one noticed they hadn't returned to the room cleared for dancing.

  "Shall we sit down?” he asked, gesturing toward two wicker chairs by a small table.

  Jessica shook her head decisively. “Wicker,” she explained.

  "I reckon you'd look even prettier sitting in a white wicker chair in your beautiful green dress."

  Jessica felt a little quiver of pleasure. He thought she looked pretty! Still, she couldn't provide the picture he evidently had in his head. “As soon as I got up, I'd lose about ten yards of fabric from my skirt, and Papa would be very disappointed in me for such carelessness. Wicker's famous for tearing up ladies’ skirts,” she added, leaning her head dreamily against the support column of the veranda as she looked out at the shifting patterns made by moonlight shining through the oak leaves. Then she went quite still, for she had felt just the briefest touch on the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. His fingers? No, there had been a whisper of warm breath just before. His mouth?

  "Are you offended?” Travis's voice behind her was like the brush of velvet. Jessica turned and looked helplessly at the lips that had just touched her skin. She couldn't quite believe it, but he was bending slowly, very, very slowly, his mouth coming toward hers. She felt breathless, dizzy. He was going to kiss her, but she might well faint before it happened. The accursed corset strings were pulled so tight. Had her mother done it as a precaution, thus ensuring that Jessica would never know what it was like to be kissed by Travis Parnell?

  Then his lips were against hers, his breath warm, and she didn't faint. He encircled her waist with his hands and pulled her forward just far enough that she rested lightly against him as he tipped his mouth and fitted their lips even more closely.

  Jessica was floating, her heart beating in a slow, powerful thud in her breast, tingling waves of warmth radiating from every point of contact between them. His hands at her waist tightened; his kiss deepened. But then abruptly it was all over.

  "Jessica, are you out here? Gavrell's looking—” Anne Harte came to an abrupt halt. “Oh, dear,” she murmured, her voice distressed.

  Her mother's words wrenched Jessica back to reality. At the same time Travis's hands fell from her waist, and he turned to Anne Harte. “Mrs. Harte,” he began earnestly, “I hope you don't think—"

  "I don't know quite what to think, Mr. Parnell,” she interrupted, “beyond the fact that my daughter should not be out here on the veranda kissing you."

  "Believe me, ma'am—"

  "Mr. Parnell, perhaps you wouldn't mind leaving now, and Jessica, I'll see you in your room shortly.” Anne glided calmly back into her house, leaving the couple staring at one another with dismay.

  "I guess I have to go, Jessica,” he said regretfully, taking both her hands in his, “but I hope you won't let this keep us from seeing one another again."

  "Oh no,” said Jessica breathlessly. “It's been such a wonderful evening—at least, until Mother came looking for me."

  Travis squeezed her hands and then turned to walk down the veranda to the steps. Jessica thought sadly that she'd rather he'd kissed her again—no matter what her mother thought about kissing on the veranda.

  "Jessica,” said Anne, “it's so easy for a young woman to lose her reputation. If anyone had seen you—"

  "Mother, I think I'm in love with him,” Jessica interrupted impulsively.

  "It's too soon,” cried Anne, alarmed and shocked a
t how fast her sensible daughter had fallen victim to infatuation, but then she remembered how she'd felt about Justin in every bit as short a time. Maybe Jessie was in love. “Do you think Mr. Parnell returns your affection?” she asked, the worry showing on her face.

  "I don't know, Mother, but if he asked me, I'd marry him today,” said Jessica passionately.

  "Oh, my dear—no. That's absolutely out of the question. We know nothing about him. He could be—” She hesitated, reluctant to bring up something that now had to be considered. “Jessie, he could be a fortune hunter."

  "You just say that because you think I'm not pretty enough to attract someone like Mr. Parnell,” cried Jessica, tears filling her eyes because her mother had voiced the very fear that always hovered at the edge of Jessica's consciousness when young men came to call.

  "Jessica, you're a handsome young woman,” said Anne reprovingly. “Why, you look absolutely lovely tonight."

  "Oh, Mother, we both know I'm as plain as paste,” said Jessica sadly, “but if Mr. Parnell should want me—"

  "We'd certainly consider an engagement,” said Anne quickly. “A long engagement. A year, at least.” She regretted having said anything to undermine her daughter's fragile confidence, but on the other hand, she would not let some stranger take advantage of the girl.

  A year? That sounded horrible, but on reflection Jessica realized that the whole conversation was ridiculous. Mr. Parnell hadn't asked for her hand and probably had no intention of doing so.

  Travis Parnell walked his horse slowly along the street toward his hotel thinking of the young woman he'd just kissed. Jessica Harte had a sweet, warm mouth—and an enticing body. And her figure was not the result of the tight lacing and the chest full of starched ruffles which gave so many modern ladies their fashionable, top-heavy look. In that low-cut green gown, Jessica had looked very pretty. No, actually she had looked beautiful. Marrying her might not be such a hardship after all, he decided cheerfully.

  Chapter Four

  "Justin, I'm awfully worried,” said Anne the next morning.

  "You mean about Jessica mentioning Penelope; I've been thinking about that too.” He put down the stockman's journal he'd been reading. “It gave me a shock, I'll have to admit, but I don't think it necessarily means Jessica's heard anything."

  "Actually, I'd forgotten all about that.” She ran distracted fingers into her red curls. “Oh, Justin, I've always worried that we did the wrong thing in not telling her about Penelope. I'm afraid it was just cowardice on my part; I couldn't face explaining everything that went on back then."

  "She hasn't asked lately, has she?"

  "Not in years, but you know she has to realize that she's not my daughter—my natural daughter. God knows, I couldn't love her more if she were."

  "Well, if she's not pushing for explanations, we can put that problem off a little longer. What is it that's worrying you right now?"

  "She's in love with Travis Parnell."

  "Nonsense. It's probably just infatuation.” Then he squinted at his wife. “How do you know?"

  "She told me, and I'm afraid that she really is in love, Justin."

  "But she hardly knows the fellow, and we don't know a thing about him."

  "I realize that, which is exactly why I'm so worried. He wouldn't be the first fortune hunter to go after her. You remember that cattle broker when she was eighteen? Oh, and that, boy in D.C. with all the gambling debts."

  "I remember,” said Justin grimly. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. His wife waited. At last he brought both hands down decisively on the table and said, “We'll send her to Sissie's.” Anne looked surprised but was willing to hear him out. “Your sister's pregnant again, isn't she? What is it? Number eleven? Well, with ten children in the house and another on the way, Sissie obviously needs help, and it wouldn't be the first time she got it from Jessica. We'll send her off to the Bar-M. That'll keep her out of Parnell's way while I find out something about the man.” Pleased with his solution, Justin added, “Who knows? Maybe he's a legitimate suitor. He seemed a sensible enough fellow to me."

  "How soon would we send her?” asked Anne.

  "Today."

  She looked troubled and admitted, “I hate to tell her. Jessica's going to know what we're up to."

  "I'll tell her,” said Justin firmly. “After all, we can't have some stranger breaking our Jessie's heart."

  "So you're sending me away again?” asked Jessica. “Just like you did before."

  "I don't know what you mean by that, Jessie,” said her father, startled at the accusing look on her face. “Your aunt needs—"

  "Papa, you don't care two figs about Aunt Sissie. I've only been back a couple of weeks, and you can hardly wait to get me out of the house.” She looked as if she might burst into tears. “You sent me away to school as soon as you possibly could, and now—"

  "Jessie, what are you talking about? We sent you to Washington because your teachers said a girl as intelligent as you should have the opportunity of—"

  "You just used that as an excuse to get rid of me, and it broke my heart, being kept away from home all those years. None of the others had to go away to school. I was so lonely and homesick."

  "But you never liked the ranch,” said her father, his eyes shocked and troubled.

  "I loved this house and all of you. I never treated you like some greedy interloper."

  "Jessie—” Her father looked stricken.

  "Well, at least Aunt Sissie loves me, even if she is a bit scatty.” Jessica turned to leave. “I'll be out of the house by nightfall,” she mumbled as the door closed behind her.

  Dear heaven, thought Justin. Anne's right. The child thinks I don't love her. Somehow he'd have to make it up to Jessica when she got back. In the meantime, he'd investigate this Travis Parnell. If the man was suitable and Jessie wanted him, by God, she'd have him.

  Upstairs, throwing clothes carelessly into her railroad trunk, Jessica suddenly realized that in agreeing to go to Aunt Sissie's, she was agreeing to leave Travis Parnell behind. By the time she got back, he'd probably have finished his business in Weatherford, whatever it was, and returned to Corsicana. Was that what her parents had planned? Jessica sat down and cried.

  Jessica was pedaling disconsolately down a rough cattle path on her cousin Martha's bicycle, her first break in a week from the rigors of life in Aunt Sissie and Uncle David's chaotic household. She paid no attention to the rider cantering up behind her, taking him to be a Bar-M cowboy on his way to repair a fence or rescue a cow or some such thing. Only when he pulled up beside her and said, “Jess?” did she realize, with a fearsome welling of joy, that the man she'd been missing so terribly had tracked her down.

  "Your aunt told me where to look for you,” Travis explained as he dismounted. “Can we sit and talk for a minute?” He nodded toward the shade provided by an old oak tree beside the path. Silently she climbed off Martha's bicycle and followed him, barely able to conceal her delight.

  "I had to find out if you'd left Weatherford without sending me word because you wanted to get away from me."

  "No!” cried Jessica, shocked that he could think such a thing. “My parents asked me to go to Aunt Sissie's one day and shipped me off the next. I didn't have time to contact you. And I didn't know where you were staying so I couldn't write.” She glanced away from him self-consciously. “Of course, it wouldn't be proper for me to write first anyway,” she added.

  "I don't want letters from you,” Travis replied to her unspoken question.

  Her heart sank.

  "I want you to marry me, Jessica."

  "You do?” She couldn't believe he'd actually said it. Oh, she'd fantasized that he might; she'd thought of nothing else for a week but never believed it would happen. Then she remembered her mother's reaction when Jessica had impulsively declared her love for Travis. “My parents would expect us to have a long engagement. A year at least,” she warned, hoping he wouldn't ask how she knew that.


  "I don't want to wait a year,” said Travis. “Do you?"

  Jessica shook her head.

  "We could elope."

  She looked up at him unhappily, knowing there was something she had to find out. As much as she yearned to be his wife, she had to know why he wanted to marry her. “If we did that, my parents would be very angry. I imagine they'd cut me off."

  "You mean disinherit you?” She nodded, and Travis laughed. “Jessica, I don't want your father's money. I've plenty of my own. What I want is your father's daughter, and I don't want to wait a year or even a month to marry you."

  She felt almost faint with relief. He wanted her for herself! She basked in the joy of that thought before forcing herself to consider how upset her parents would be if she eloped. Then she thought about Travis, and how much she wanted to marry him, and how afraid she was that, if she asked him to wait a year, he'd change his mind. And it wasn't as if she were that happy at home, or even that they really wanted her there. She was the outsider in the family. “When would—would we do it?” she asked hesitantly.

  "Today,” he said without a moment's hesitation. “There's a siding on the Bannerman ranch. We can ride over and flag down the train to Fort Worth."

  "Ride what?” asked Jessica, alarmed.

  "My horse, but you'll ride in front of me, so there's nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled encouragingly. “I'll have my arms around you the whole way. And you're wearing those—what are they called?"

  "Knickerbockers.” The idea of having Travis's arms around her all the way to the Triangle siding sounded wonderful, even if she did have to sit on a horse to enjoy it. “There's Aunt Sissie—she'll be terrified if I don't come back."

  "I'll pay someone getting off at Weatherford to take her a message—about where you've gone and where to pick up your cousin's bicycle.” He laughed exuberantly and asked, “Does that take care of all your objections?"

  She nodded, her eyes beginning to shine with excitement.

  "Then you'll marry me?"

  She nodded again, such a radiant smile lighting her face that Travis caught his breath in wonder.