Maddie. It was black lacquer with a beautiful black-haired Spanish lady painted on it. She had laughing black eyes and a sweet smile. “She was so beautiful.”
“It was the great-great-grandmother of the owner. They said a visiting artist made it and gave it to her. She and her husband owned a huge ranch, from one of those Spanish land grants. Pity there’s nobody to keep the legend going.”
“Oh, but there is.” Cort took it from the woman and handed it to Maddie. “Put it on the tab, if you will,” he told the owner. “I can’t think of anyone who’ll take better care of her.”
“No, you can’t,” Maddie protested, because she saw the price tag.
“I can,” Cort said firmly. “It was a family legacy. It still is.” His dark eyes stared meaningfully into hers. “It can be handed down, to your own children. You might have a daughter who’d love it one day.”
Maddie’s heart ran wild. She looked into Cort’s dark eyes and couldn’t turn away.
“I’ll put the ticket with lunch,” the owner said with a soft laugh. “I’m glad she’ll have a home,” she added gently.
“Can you write down the woman’s name who sold it to you?” Maddie asked. “I want to remember her, too.”
“That I can. How about some buttermilk pie? It’s the house specialty,” she added with a grin.
“I’d love some.”
“Me, too,” Cort said.
Maddie touched the beautiful cheek of the cameo’s subject. “I should sculpt a fairy who looks like her.”
“Yes, you should,” Cort agreed at once. “And show it with the cameo.”
She nodded. “How sad,” she said, “to be the last of your family.”
“I can almost guarantee that you won’t be the last of yours,” he said in a breathlessly tender tone.
She looked up into his face and her whole heart was in her eyes.
He had to fight his first impulse, which was to drag her across the table into his arms and kiss the breath out of her.
She saw that hunger in him and was fascinated that she seemed to have inspired it. He’d said that she was plain and uninteresting. But he was looking at her as if he thought her the most beautiful woman on earth.
“Dangerous,” he teased softly, “looking at me like that in a public place.”
“Huh?” She caught her breath as she realized what he was saying. She laughed nervously, put the beautiful cameo beside her plate and smiled at him. “Thank you, for the cameo.”
“My pleasure. Eat up. We’ve still got a long drive ahead of us!”
Jacobsville, Texas, was a place Maddie had heard of all her life, but she’d never seen it before. In the town square, there was a towering statue of Big John Jacobs, the founder of Jacobsville, for whom Jacobs County was named. Legend had it that he came to Texas from Georgia after the Civil War, with a wagonload of black sharecroppers. He also had a couple of Comanche men who helped him on the ranch. It was a fascinating story, how he’d married the spunky but not so pretty daughter of a multimillionaire and started a dynasty in Texas.
Maddie shared the history with Cort as they drove down a long dirt road to the ranch, which was owned by Cy Parks. He was an odd sort of person, very reticent, with jet-black hair sprinkled with silver and piercing green eyes. He favored one of his arms, and Maddie could tell that it had been badly burned at some point. His wife was a plain little blonde woman who wore glasses and obviously adored her husband. The feeling seemed to be mutual. They had two sons who were in school, Lisa explained shyly. She was sorry she couldn’t introduce them to the visitors.
Cy Parks showed them around his ranch in a huge SUV. He stopped at one pasture and then another, grimacing at the dry grass.
“We’re having to use up our winter hay to feed them,” he said with a sigh. “It’s going to make it a very hard winter if we have to buy extra feed to carry us through.” He glanced at Cort and laughed. “You’ll make my situation a bit easier
“It was the great-great-grandmother of the owner. They said a visiting artist made it and gave it to her. She and her husband owned a huge ranch, from one of those Spanish land grants. Pity there’s nobody to keep the legend going.”
“Oh, but there is.” Cort took it from the woman and handed it to Maddie. “Put it on the tab, if you will,” he told the owner. “I can’t think of anyone who’ll take better care of her.”
“No, you can’t,” Maddie protested, because she saw the price tag.
“I can,” Cort said firmly. “It was a family legacy. It still is.” His dark eyes stared meaningfully into hers. “It can be handed down, to your own children. You might have a daughter who’d love it one day.”
Maddie’s heart ran wild. She looked into Cort’s dark eyes and couldn’t turn away.
“I’ll put the ticket with lunch,” the owner said with a soft laugh. “I’m glad she’ll have a home,” she added gently.
“Can you write down the woman’s name who sold it to you?” Maddie asked. “I want to remember her, too.”
“That I can. How about some buttermilk pie? It’s the house specialty,” she added with a grin.
“I’d love some.”
“Me, too,” Cort said.
Maddie touched the beautiful cheek of the cameo’s subject. “I should sculpt a fairy who looks like her.”
“Yes, you should,” Cort agreed at once. “And show it with the cameo.”
She nodded. “How sad,” she said, “to be the last of your family.”
“I can almost guarantee that you won’t be the last of yours,” he said in a breathlessly tender tone.
She looked up into his face and her whole heart was in her eyes.
He had to fight his first impulse, which was to drag her across the table into his arms and kiss the breath out of her.
She saw that hunger in him and was fascinated that she seemed to have inspired it. He’d said that she was plain and uninteresting. But he was looking at her as if he thought her the most beautiful woman on earth.
“Dangerous,” he teased softly, “looking at me like that in a public place.”
“Huh?” She caught her breath as she realized what he was saying. She laughed nervously, put the beautiful cameo beside her plate and smiled at him. “Thank you, for the cameo.”
“My pleasure. Eat up. We’ve still got a long drive ahead of us!”
Jacobsville, Texas, was a place Maddie had heard of all her life, but she’d never seen it before. In the town square, there was a towering statue of Big John Jacobs, the founder of Jacobsville, for whom Jacobs County was named. Legend had it that he came to Texas from Georgia after the Civil War, with a wagonload of black sharecroppers. He also had a couple of Comanche men who helped him on the ranch. It was a fascinating story, how he’d married the spunky but not so pretty daughter of a multimillionaire and started a dynasty in Texas.
Maddie shared the history with Cort as they drove down a long dirt road to the ranch, which was owned by Cy Parks. He was an odd sort of person, very reticent, with jet-black hair sprinkled with silver and piercing green eyes. He favored one of his arms, and Maddie could tell that it had been badly burned at some point. His wife was a plain little blonde woman who wore glasses and obviously adored her husband. The feeling seemed to be mutual. They had two sons who were in school, Lisa explained shyly. She was sorry she couldn’t introduce them to the visitors.
Cy Parks showed them around his ranch in a huge SUV. He stopped at one pasture and then another, grimacing at the dry grass.
“We’re having to use up our winter hay to feed them,” he said with a sigh. “It’s going to make it a very hard winter if we have to buy extra feed to carry us through.” He glanced at Cort and laughed. “You’ll make my situation a bit easier
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