Secrets In Texas

And Jonathon was gone, exiting the front door, humming what sounded like “Onward Christian Soldiers.”

Angel repressed a shudder. His cheer seemed ominous.

Ruth raised luminous blue eyes. She looked like a china doll with pale, porcelain skin and wide, round eyes. “This is for you, Brother Matthew.” She held out a flat rectangular object to him.

Matthew frowned, accepting the gift. “It’s beautiful.”

“I made it. A marker for your Bible.”

“Yes, lovely stitchery. Thank you.”

Triumph flashed in the young woman’s eyes and was gone. “I’m glad you like it.” Her voice was low and sweet.

Angel felt for all the world as if she’d been one-upped in a competition she didn’t understand.

“I’ll show you to your room.” Eleanor bustled by them.

Matthew took Angel’s arm and they followed the woman down a short hallway and up a flight of stairs. There were several doors on either side. Eleanor opened the last door on the right.

“You have a private bathroom. If you need additional towels or blankets, please call me.”

Angel sucked in a breath as she entered the small, old-fashioned room. Her gaze was drawn to the double bed. She fingered the exquisite handmade wedding-ring quilt. “It’s beautiful.”

“Some of the women made it as a wedding gift for you and Matthew. Many of them were friends of Abigail’s.”

But Eleanor hadn’t contributed, that much was clear. There was a bitter edge to her voice when she mentioned Matthew’s mother. Angel wondered whether Eleanor had opposed Jonathon’s marriage to his brother’s wife.

It didn’t matter, Angel supposed, because even Jonathon’s first wife would have had very little say when he chose another bride. She was expected to suffer in silence.

“I imagine you two are tired from traveling and would like to settle into your room. I will lead the Bible reading tonight in Jonathon’s absence. However, it would be understandable if you would like to have your own reading in your room.”

Holy cow. How was she supposed to handle Bible readings when her memory of the book was so sketchy? She’d avoided religion of any kind since her marriage to Kent. Because she had a hard time believing in a God who’d left her to fend for herself.

“I’ll lead Angel in prayer and our reading tonight, Aunt Eleanor. Thank you.”

“Good night.”

Ruth stood in the hallway outside their door, her eyes bright with curiosity. Angel got the distinct impression she was gauging the marital temperature.

“Good night, Eleanor, Ruth.” Angel tucked her hand in Matt’s, smiling up at him. “My husband and I would like to be alone. We’re very…tired.” There, let the little Stepford wannabe process that.

Ruth let out a small squeak of surprise and fled.

Matthew cupped her chin with his hand, rubbing his thumb along her jaw. “Yes, very tired.”

She thought his gesture was for the benefit of their audience, but then she realized the hallway was empty. Eleanor had retreated after Ruth.

He closed the door and hefted their suitcases onto the bed. “Watch yourself around Eleanor,” he murmured. “She’s Uncle Jonathon’s eyes and ears. And sometimes his cojones, though she’d never be foolish enough to let him realize it.”

Angel watched Matthew closely, wondering if his swift change in demeanor was intended to throw her off balance. The tenderness of a few moments ago was gone, replaced with determined movement.

“Jonathon didn’t seem to need any help in the cojones area. The term brass came to mind.”

Matthew smirked. “Probably apt. You’re smart not to allow the veneer of civility fool you. He’s a dangerous man.”

“Duly noted. I’d like to unpack and hit the hay early. I want to keep on top of my game. How do you propose we work out sleeping arrangements?” Angel eyed the full-size bed. She was accustomed to having a queen all to herself.

“I’ll take the floor, of course.”

Playing the part of the subservient wife would be hard enough when people were around. Angel had no intention of being the helpless little woman in private. “We’ll alternate. Flip a coin to see who takes the floor tonight?”

Matthew shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“I will.” She removed a quarter from her purse. Flicking it with her thumb, she said, “Call it,” as the coin spun in the air.

“Heads.”

“You win. You get the bed tonight.”

“No.” His voice was low, firm. “I get to choose. I choose the floor.”

“You’re a stubborn man.”

“Yes, I am. After you unpack, I’ll lead us in Bible study and prayer.”

She planted her hands on her hips. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Of course. There are some practices I still observe. Not all their precepts are bad.”

“Well, where I come from, we believe in separation of church and state. This is a job and I, for one, don’t want to be subjected to your beliefs in private.”

“Keep your voice down,” Matthew warned. “We don’t know who’s next door. If we’re overheard, it’s best I’m fulfilling my role as the spiritual leader of our family.”

She eyed the adobe, tempted to tap it with her knuckles to check the density of the walls. Until proven otherwise, it was best to assume anything above a whisper could be heard in the next room. “You’re right. I’ll be unpacked in a few minutes. Then I guess I can suffer through a few moments of religious instruction.”

“I promise to keep it short and sweet.”

“Okay.” She lowered her voice. “But one hint of fire and brimstone and we’re done. Comprende?”

Matthew was intrigued by the bits Angel revealed about herself. “No vengeful, merciless God for you?”

“Uh-uh. I’ve found people can be vengeful and merciless enough. Who needs a deity like that?” Though her tone was teasing, there was an underlying edge.

“Who, indeed. We may be more alike than you realize, Angelina. My God is just and loving.”

“If you think you know me, think again. I’m nothing like the women here who meekly follow orders.”

“Wifely submission isn’t on your list of approved reading topics, I take it?”