Finally, he hugged her again, and said, “Welcome to El Regalo. Come in and have a seat.”
Chairs and place settings were procured, and Elise found herself seated at the massive dinner table. Bowie sat beside his father, GW, at the end of the table, and Elise sat on Bowie’s right. From this side, it was impossible to see his scars or eye patch, and she wondered if that had always been his seat at the table, or if he had changed after his return from the War.
Each of the brothers introduced themselves, and Elise covered her amusement at the pride the Hart men had in presenting their brides. There were fond gestures, a touch to the shoulder, a wink, a hand-clasp under the table edge that made Elise wistful. Clearly Bowie’s brothers had all made love matches.
When the oldest brother, Austin, introduced his wife, Bowie straightened. “So the mail-order thing must’ve worked out fine? Congratulations.”
The couple shared an amused glance, and Austin put his arm around his wife. “Not without some ups and downs, but yeah, I got the right girl for me.” He laughed. “We’ll have to tell you the story sometime.”
Bowie ate his meal and listened to the lively banter around him but didn’t join in, part of the group yet separate somehow. But something in him seemed to have eased. He was relaxed, not nearly as tense as he had been the entire journey from New York to Texas. Was it just that he was happy to be home? Elise felt at a loss, knowing so little about him compared to the people in this room.
Houston said from down the table, “You might be interested to know that the house is done except for the furniture and rugs and such. The workers finished the plastering and trimming out the doors and windows yesterday afternoon.”
Bowie nodded. “Travis, how’s Clara?”
Elise tensed. Who was Clara?
Travis—he was a doctor, Elise remembered that much—set his glass on the table. “She’s fine, though she’ll be glad to see you. She pined the whole time you were gone. Robbie checked in on her often, though.” He leaned past his wife, Annie, to wink at his young stepson, a child of about nine or ten, Elise guessed.
An unfamiliar feeling trickled through Elise. Someone named Clara pined for her husband? Who was this woman?
“I, for one, am glad you’re back, though,” Travis continued. “I didn’t want anything to happen to her with you away. I know how much you’ve been looking forward to a litter of puppies from Stonewall and Clara. Not to mention Robbie here and Emma’s brother David lining up to get one. If Clara doesn’t have at least three or four pups, there will be a lot of sad little boys.”
Chagrin heated Elise’s cheeks. A dog! She’d actually been … jealous … of a dog. She must be more tired than she thought.
Elise was overwhelmed by the time the meal finished. The exuberance of the Hart brothers, their vitality and masculinity, surged through the room. And the ladies were no less animated, chattering and laughing, clearly enjoying one another’s company. As they moved into the parlor, Elise began to wonder when she could decently plead fatigue and find a quiet spot to get her bearings.
Bowie noted the tiredness around Elise’s eyes and the way she bit her lower lip as she watched his family. They were a boisterous lot, he had to admit.
But as they grouped together on the settees and chairs and settled around the tables for chess and checkers in the parlor, for the first time in a long time, Bowie felt the equal to his brothers. Scarred and battered, a helpless prisoner for most of the War, yes, but he’d fulfilled the letter of his father’s command. Just like his brothers, he’d found a wife. He leaned against the mantel, arms crossed, watching her.
Elise sat between Coralee and Annie, Houston and Travis’s wives, and a burst of pride shot through Bowie’s chest.
She was his. His wife.
Her dark hair shone as light streamed in the tall windows. Though she had it all coiled and pinned up, he remembered how it had looked tumbling down her back and over her shoulders when he’d returned to the hotel room in Wichita. The sight had sucked all the wind out of his lungs and dried out his mouth.
She smoothed her skirts, and he compared her outfit to those of his covey of sisters-in-law. Yep, she fit right in. Another thrust of satisfaction shot through him. Buying her new clothes had been the right thing to do, and the least he could do to show his appreciation. After all, he owed her from way back and he owed her now. He didn’t want her to feel embarrassed or out of place amongst the Hart women.
He knew too well what it meant to feel out of place.
“You sure know how to keep a secret.” Austin nudged him, coming up on his blind side. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving?”
“I told Houston.”
“Yeah, a few minutes before you lit out. You sure didn’t tell anyone you were going to get a wife. Why not say something about Elise before?”