As he listened to her speak, tranquility lit up a dark place inside him. He’d teased her about her genius in the past, but at this moment he felt grateful for her intelligence, for in the space of only a moment her wisdom laid to rest his years’ old self-condemnation.
“Roman,” Theodosia pressed gently, “how did you come to learn the farm was not to be yours?”
He met her gaze and kissed her with his eyes. “After Flora met a man by the name of Rexford Driscoll in the nearby town of Hawk Point. She took one look at him and practically threw herself at his feet. Driscoll had recently gambled away his land in a game of cards and was on his way back east. I think he said he was from Virginia.
“Anyway, when he saw our house and farm, he asked Flora to marry him. She did. I didn’t go to the wedding, but after the ceremony she came looking for me. She found me in the corn field, and she still had her wedding dress on when she told me she was selling the farm. I had a basket of corn in my arms, and I dropped it. She didn’t seem to notice, but went on to inform me that Pa hadn’t left a will and that the farm was hers to sell.”
Viciously, he dug his blade into the tree branch. “I stayed awake all night, walking all over the land I had thought would belong to me. But no matter how hard I thought…no matter how fast or far I walked, I couldn’t understand how I could get Flora to let me keep the farm. I didn’t have any money, and I knew she wouldn’t give me the farm out of the kindness of her heart. By late afternoon the next day, she’d sold the farm to a merchant from Hawk Point. The man had plans to raise peacocks. Said they fetched a good price from wealthy people who wanted something elegant and exotic strutting around their gardens. My land—peacocks.”
Shaking his head, he massaged the back of his neck and the muscles in his shoulder. “I don’t know how much Flora sold the farm for, but I reckon she did well with the sale. It wasn’t a big farm, but it was good land. With the money in his pocket, Driscoll took Flora, Cordelia, and Veronica back east with him. I never heard from any of them again, but sometimes I wonder how long Driscoll put up with those three women.”
“Flora didn’t leave anything for you?” Theodosia asked, appalled. “Nothing at all?”
“Our mustang mare,” Roman answered, and smiled. “But the only reason she left the horse to me was that she thought it was worthless. The mare’s name was Angel. She was Secret’s dam, and his sire was Driscoll’s Thoroughbred. Like I told you before, I bred the horses one night when everyone was asleep. The way I see it, Driscoll and Flora didn’t leave me with nothing. They left me with the knowledge of exactly what breed of horses I would raise on my ranch, and I’ve been working toward that goal ever since.”
The depth of his strength and determination astonished Theodosia to such an extent that tears threatened to spill again. “Do you realize how remarkable it is that you have become the man you are, Roman? Many people whose childhoods were similar to yours live their entire lives wallowing in self-pity. Constantly doubting themselves, they are afraid to decide upon a dream, much less attempt to reach it. You not only know what you want, but you have very nearly attained it.”
At her praise, his tranquility deepened and mingled with the relief he felt over having finally shared his past with someone who cared enough to really listen.
He finished carving the tree limb and slid his knife back into its sheath. “The memories I just told you about are the bad ones, Theodosia, but I have some good ones too. It’s true I was on my own when I was a kid, but I did a lot of fun stuff to keep myself busy. Whenever I could escape, I’d spend hours playing away from the house.”
She imagined him as a little boy, running all over the farm and investigating everything he encountered. Her daydream touched her heart. “What sort of play did you indulge in?”
He didn’t reply.TellingTheodosia about the fun he’d had wouldn’t accomplish a thing. No, he would show her—and urge her to participate. He didn’t think it would be difficult.
After all, he’d already succeeded in getting the prim little genius up into a tree.
Smiling, he tapped the bars of John the Baptist’s cage.
The parrot responded by splashing water every which way. “I’m going to buy Spanish mares down in Mexico,” he stated.
“Yeah?” Roman said. “What a coincidence. So am I.”
The bird blinked. “I read a great deal, and I especially enjoy philosophy.”
“I like to read about sex,” Roman declared. John the Baptist ate a peanut. “What do you think is handsome about me? My face?”
“Don’t get him started, Roman,” Theodosia scolded. She reached for her parrot’s cage, then tried to rise.
“Just sit there for a minute,” Roman advised, standing. He stepped over her, hunkered down, and got a firm hold on the tree trunk. “All right, now get on.”
Holding her bird cage with one hand, she positioned herself on Roman’s back, wrapped her legs around his waist, and curled her arm around his neck. Just as he began his descent, she caught a glimpse of what he’d carved into the tree limb. Her heart stirred.
She’d seen her name engraved upon scrolled diplomas, gold jewelry, and a wide variety of other elegant items.
But she’d never seen it carved in the wood of a live oak tree.
Chapter Fourteen
As Roman walked out of theEnchanted Hill hotel the next morning, he found the hotel owner polishing the brass urns that sat beside the door.
“Good morning, Mr. Montana,” the man said.
Roman nodded. “When you get a chance, could you put a new doorknob on room two? The one that’s on the door now is hard to open.”
“Lord have mercy, I meant to have that thing fixed last week. The last person that stayed in that room couldn’t get out at all and was locked inside until someone finally heard him screaming’.”
“Then you’ll fix it?”
