you see the folly of this. We need to forget this whole idea of marriage. I can think of a thousand reasons why this is foolish, Marshal.”
He grinned at her. “And I can think of a million more as to why it is so right.”
She shook her head. The gauntlet had been thrown, and being hardheaded she picked it up. “I keep telling you, if you are concerned about my virtue, don’t be. No one will even know what happened.” While she thought the comment lighthearted, a pained expression crossed his face.
“Because you are a woman, you cannot see it.”
His words sounded final, almost as if he regretted what she thought was beautiful, and it hurt. She looked at the plate and studied the flowered pattern around the edge.
“I will tell you this just once, and it is for our ears only. A woman’s virtue is highly regarded. What you gave to me today, you shall never be able to recover. I do not take lightly what passed between us.”
The raw emotion in his voice moved her to tears. A large lump formed in her throat as he continued.
“A few years ago… No, a lifetime ago, I thought I loved another.” He gave his head a shake. “Like some starry-eyed dreamer, I believed in love at first sight.”
Her eyes grew wide, her mouth dry. He was talking about the woman Rand had mentioned, Amelia.
“Like a fool, I asked her to be my bride. But the day of the wedding, she never came.”
“You are no fool, Trace,” she whispered.
His mouth took on a grim line. “I found her in my brother’s bed. She told me in no uncertain words how unfit I was for her. How my father betrayed Mexico for my mother.” He grimaced.
Her hand instinctively reached for his. As her fingers brushed his skin, he flinched, but she stared into the depths of his cold blue eyes. “Do not speak of this. She was a fool.”
He looked away and gave a shake of his head. “No, I was a fool because for so long I believed her lies, and for so long I hoped one day she might return.”
She watched as he struggled and gathered his thoughts together. His hand slipped over hers.
“I will be a good husband and father, my Irish Rose. You will never want for anything, I assure you.”
She listened, wishing the most important words would tumble from his lips to calm her fears. However, she understood now why they were not there. Before she could say anything, he pulled a box from his pocket.
“I know that it is customary for a woman to be presented with a token of a man’s admiration for her.”
Damn it, can’t you say the word ‘love’? She wanted to shout the thought.
Instead, she watched his fingers open the lid to the box. Her eyes widened as she spied what nestled in the cotton—a tiny gold ring, its band a twisted gold strand with two hands clutching a heart.
“It’s beautiful.” She heard the words roll off her tongue.
His fingers nimbly took the ring from the box and, grasping her left hand, slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. “It is not what I want you to have, but until I get home, this will do. As I was her firstborn, my mother left me her jewelry. Now, as my wife, the Castillo jewels will be yours.”
She gazed down at her hand. Her finger seemed heavy. His hands closed around hers. Lifting her hand, he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the ring.
“You see?” He smiled up at her. “You hold my heart in your hands. When you come to my ranchero, there will be much for us to do. You will not miss your brother’s freight business.”
Mary Rose blinked. She looked down at the ring again, seeing it in new light. Instead of a promise, the ring became more of a rope stealing her freedom. The sound of footsteps moving toward them silenced their conversation. She looked up to see Sheriff Weston at their table.
“Evening.” He took a breath. “I hate to barge in on your evening, but I need to speak to Trace, if you don’t mind, Mary Rose?”
“No, of course not.”
Trace put down his napkin and rose from his chair. “I shall return and walk you home.”
She nodded and watched as the two men moved toward the lobby. Sitting alone, gazing at her hands, she wondered if she had done the right