Chapter Three

Daniella stoked up the fire in the small stove, walked to her armoire, and selected a warm, wool shawl. Draping it around her shoulders, she sat in her rocking chair and picked up a small book. Love's Delights and Promises, by Gwyneth Eloise Melrose.

She read aloud, "Do come into my parlor, Mr. Halsworth. Be seated here beside me on my small love seat."

"I'd be delighted my dear. Tell me, now, how is your mother? Is she well?"

Daniella stood and held the book up so she could continue to read.

"Thank you, kind sir, for asking, and yes, she is fine."

Pausing to close the book and lay it on the table, she walked in a circle and kept talking, waving her hands slowly, cocking her head just so in a coquettish pose, and batting her eyelashes.

"Tell me, Mr. Halsworth…mmm, Mr. Garrison, what is your given name, sir?"

"Max…Maximilian, ma'am. My father shortened it so I could at least learn how to spell it."

"Oh, such a sweet thing for him to do."

"And what of your parents? The Sommers. I heard you lost them a couple of years ago."

"Yes, I did lose my parents, God rest their souls. They were actually direct descendents from the throne of England, you know. Father would have been an earl if he had wanted to remain in the country. But he wished to marry a farmer's daughter and his mother, the…countess—" Or would she only be a lady? Whichever would work, since she pretended all the conversations.

Daniella tapped her finger on her chin, wondering what Max might say now.

"But ma'am, your skin has a dusky shade. Aren't the English fair skinned, blue-eyed, and blond? I say, how did you come about your coloring?"

She laughed.

"Fiddle-faddle, Mr. Garrison. Even my parents could not explain the oddity of the color of my skin. They said I must have been a throwback to earlier generations, when the Moors…or the Italians, perhaps, came into our country. Who knows?"

And who would believe such nonsense? Daniella felt positively foolish, walking around, talking to herself, making up dialogue like this.

Heaven knows how much buttermilk she'd slathered on her face at night to lighten her skin. Well, it never worked, and finally her mother told her to let it be. They loved me because I was their daughter.

When she began first grade in the one-room schoolhouse, Daniella first heard the word adoption, and the taunting way the other children said it made her cry. Before that, no one ever uttered such a thing. Her parents never mentioned a word about them acquiring her in some manner other than the natural way. Certainly, she had no memory of any life other than with her father and mother and the bookshop.

When she questioned her parents, she only learned that papers had been signed somewhere, allowing them to keep her. Keep her? She'd asked where she came from. Their only answer was, "From God."

Daniella returned to her rocker, sat down, leaned her head on the back, and closed her eyes. She sighed deeply, feeling restless even more so than usual. Loneliness, at times, almost made her fall under the spell of depression. She wanted to lock the doors, turn off the lamp, and well, just die. No one would miss her.

Not one decent man in town would touch her, only a couple of young, wild men who rode into town on Saturdays with other cowboys from nearby ranches. But she would not allow it. Her mother taught her to be a lady, and Daniella knew stepping out with some wild sort would not be right for her.

A young man had questioned her once about her unusual coloring and features, standing on the boardwalk, keeping her there, until she excused herself to finish her shopping. What was to happen to her? She wanted a man, her own lover, friend, husband, and father to her children, but she seemed to be born between two worlds.

* * * * *

Early Saturday morning, Daniella dressed warmly, covered her head with a heavy wool shawl, and left the building. She locked the door and turned to walk down the street. A few citizens were about, not many, for the hour was early. In two more hours, people would fill the street and shops.

She approached the blue two-story house almost at the end of the business district. Ellie Tolbert served a delicious breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays, and Daniella ate there often, indulging herself and enjoying visiting with her friend. In addition to good food, a tenant or two might be present—hopefully someone to talk with. And she loved Ellie's daughter, little Bitsy.

Ellie kept the front door unlocked on these days, so Daniella walked in, removed her wool scarf, and hung it on the hat rack. Turning to enter the dining room, she paused. Mr. Garrison walked down the stairs in his shiny boots, shrugging his broad shoulders into a brown leather jacket as he came.

Her heart skipped a beat. Butterflies flittered around in her stomach. She froze, waiting by the newel post.

Max grinned, showing his lovely white teeth and creating a tiny dimple beside one corner of his mouth. "Well, Miss Sommers. What a pleasant surprise. Having breakfast?"

"Yes, I try to visit here once a week. You won't be disappointed in the food."

"Any offering would taste great, if I could share it with you."

Daniella's heart squeezed, her breath hitched, and her hands began to tremble. She gazed into his deep blue eyes, so clear, focused, and sparkling on this cold December morning. He became very still and solemn, moved a step closer to her so that she felt the warmth from his body, and held out his hand.

"Shall we? Miss Sommers?"

"Yes, let's."

Before she could place her hand in his, she heard a young voice calling.

"Dani, Dani! Wait for me!" Bitsy came barreling down the hall and threw herself around Daniella's legs. "Can I sit 'side you? Pleee-ase?"

Squatting in the hall, Daniella hugged the tiny girl with the blond braids tied with pink ribbons. "Of course, you can. Saturday morning wouldn't be the same if I didn't get to sit with you. How are you, sweetheart?"

"I'm fine. Mama made Dolly a new dress for the tea party."

"Why, that's wonderful. I can't wait to see it."

Bitsy clung to Daniella's neck. "Mama said you might read me a story after breakfas'."

"I just might do that, while she cleans the dishes. Then, I must open the shop."

"All righty." She released her grip and bobbed her head several times.

"Mr. Garrison, would you mind eating with me and Bitsy?"

He chuckled. "I'd be honored."

The trio entered the dining room just as Ellie walked in carrying a large bowl of fried potatoes. She spoke as she placed it on a sideboard.

"Good morning, Dani. And Mr. Garrison. The gentleman here is Mr. Youngblood from Fort Worth. Y'all have a seat. I'll get some coffee in a minute."

They all shook hands and took their places. Max seemed to make an effort to sit beside Daniella, which pleased her no end. She patted the chair on her other side for Bitsy to sit.

Max turned to the stranger who sat at the head of the table. "You must've come in late last night. I didn't see you."

"Yes, sir, around midnight. I thought I'd get here sooner, but I ran into a little storm about ten miles out. The wind sure slowed me down. Mrs. Tolbert was kind enough to let me in."

"You're from Fort Worth, then?"

"Not really. My ranch is below the Trinity River, but Fort Worth has been my headquarters for over a year, now."

Daniella excused herself to help Ellie. "I'll see if I can help with that coffee."

Max stood as she did and nodded, once again looking directly into her eyes. Oh, lands, she hoped she could learn more about him. She'd not seen a man as handsome, although he was a rugged sort, as if he'd spent much of his life outdoors. But the small creases fanning out from his eyes made him even more intriguing and alluring. Yes, that was the word. Alluring, desirable. Now, don't go overboard, you silly girl. He's only being kind. She followed Ellie into the kitchen.

She returned carrying a heavy blue enamel coffee pot, one hand around the handle and supporting the weight with the other by holding a potholder beneath. "Don't get up." She filled the cups as Max began to rise, but he sat and returned his attention to the visitor.

"I've been in Fort Worth a few times over the last few years. It's growing real fast, crowded and noisy, and smelly with all those stockyards so close in. I guess it's a nice place to visit, but I sure wouldn't live there."

Mr. Youngblood laughed and nodded. "Money's pouring in there, though. One day, it'll be an important town in Texas."

Daniella studied him. He appeared to be the same kind of man as Max, rather young, lanky, with skin that was already turning leathery. Of course, he was not nearly as handsome as Max. He seemed to be at ease with people, but authoritative, too.

She sat as he spoke again.

"I wouldn't live there, either, but I had to meet with a judge. They're holding a prisoner ready for release, and I'm carrying a letter for the sheriff here concerning him."

Max leaned forward and leaned his folded arms on the table. "Something about the prisoner? Is he dangerous?"

"It is about him, but he seems decent enough. Just somehow got off on the wrong foot somewhere in his youth. He'll straighten out, I think."

Max leaned back and sipped his coffee. He placed the cup in the saucer as he spoke. "I might have a talk with you after breakfast. Do you have time?"

"Sure do. Well, I smell something mighty good. I don't know about you, but I could eat a horse."

Ellie walked in with a big platter of biscuits on one arm, and a bowl of gravy on the other. "I'll be right back with eggs and ham. Then y'all can eat."

Bitsy stared at the stranger, her blue eyes narrowed. "Ewww. You should not eat a horse. That's not nice."

Everybody laughed and Daniella leaned over and hugged the child. "That's just an expression, sweetheart. He only means he could eat a large amount."

Bitsy scooted forward. "Oh. Me too. I could eat a horse."