“That doesn’t make it right.”
Rick spun to face his father. “I’d do it again.”
Dad’s stance was firm. “If you can’t trust Noelle, then you’d better rethink that engagement ring.”
“It’s not Noelle.”
“Isn’t it? Would it matter what Morgan did if you knew it meant nothing to her?”
Would it? Rick unclenched his hands. “Yes, it would matter. Doesn’t it ever matter what Morgan does? We all make excuses for him, but it matters, Dad. You know what Morgan is.”
His father flinched. “He’s your brother.”
“And what am I supposed to do? Stand by and watch? You don’t know what she’s been through.” All the weight of her need crushed in on him.
“You have to let Noelle decide.”
“She has decided.” He watched the lines draw tight over his dad’s face.
“I’ll not have you striking your brother. Not here, not ever. Do you understand?”
Rick made one curt nod. When Dad left, he ran his hand over his face. The departing rage left a cold ache. He dropped to his knees. “Jesus …” He caught his head in his hands. Noelle needed protecting. Of course she did. Their tenuous relationship, her hard-fought trust. She had asked him to keep her safe. He’d promised.
And Morgan’s good looks, his charm, his womanizing … Would everyone always excuse him? Did his early mistakes earn him everlasting mercy?
Yes. As did all of theirs.
Rick felt the knot in his belly. Maybe his wasn’t righteous anger. Maybe part was pure, unredeemed jealousy. Did he doubt Noelle? Did she carry a torch for Morgan? Which of his conquests hadn’t? But she’d resisted him.
Not today.
Rick groaned. Lord, I’m weak. Show me what to do. He stretched his fingers painfully. He had struck Morgan with all his strength, then turned that same fury on Noelle—if not physically, then with words. He’d deserved the slap. He held his head in his hands and prayed for peace, for wisdom, forgiveness.
When he came out, he found Morgan alone on the porch. “Can we talk?”
Morgan kept his gaze straight ahead.
Rick leaned against the post. “Morgan, I know you had feelings for Noelle….”
“Had?”
Rick faced his brother squarely. “I’m asking you to let it go.”
Morgan glanced over. “And if I don’t?”
Rick felt the throb in his knuckles. “I don’t want to fight you, but I will. It’s not just about you wanting her and me wanting her. There are things she’s been through.”
“So I heard.”
“She told you?”
Morgan shook his head. “Only your ears are hallowed enough for the details.”
Rick reached a hand to Morgan’s shoulder. “I didn’t want it this way.”
“Well, if you didn’t, and she didn’t, who did?” He cracked a wry smile.
Rick gathered himself. He needed Morgan to understand. “I love her.”
Morgan nodded. “I could have, too, given half a chance.”
“You had a chance, Morgan.”
“You think I don’t know that!” He slapped the post, then dropped his head to his outstretched arm. “She’s the only one who came close.”
“She’s not Jill.”
“Yeah … I know.”
“I’m sorry about the jaw.” Rick reached out his hand, hopeful of reconciliation.
“You’ve got a mean hook.” Morgan gripped his hand. “You better go find her. I don’t know what you said to make her slap you, but it must have been worse than anything I tried.”
Rick guessed it was. He started down the steps.
“West.” Morgan pointed.
Rick headed that way. “Noelle!” His voice carried through the deepening dusk. “Noelle!” No answer, but he caught sight of her, sitting, knees wrapped in her arms. Her head was down. She didn’t raise it when he approached.
He knelt on the ground before her. Still she wouldn’t look, so he cupped her face and made her see him. “I’m sorry.”
Her gaze slid from his face. “I need to go home.”
It landed like a rock in his belly. “You mean the ranch?”
She shook her head.
“Why?”
“It’s where I belong.”
Damp cold seeped into his knees from the ground. “You belong with me.”
She wouldn’t answer.
“Noelle, I’m sorry I lost my temper. I know that frightened you, and God knows I wish I hadn’t. But that doesn’t mean—”
“You think it’s my fault, don’t you?”
“What?”
Dewy eyes draped with lashes turned on him. “That I was raped. You think I wanted it, that I made it happen.”
He stared at her. Not only was it the first time she’d said right out what had happened to her, but worse by far was how she had twisted his words, taken a meaning he never intended. “Listen to me, Noelle. I never blamed you. I never would.”
She burst up from the ground. “You and your God! You’re so pure, aren’t you! Never dated, never kissed a woman, never—Well, I hate you, and I hate your God!”
Rick froze. Lord, what have I done? Don’t hold this against me. Forgive me. Mend this wrong. Tears stung his eyes as he stood up. He didn’t care that she saw. “Noelle…”
“I just want to go home.” Her voice broke.
“If you want to go, I’ll take you. But you’re not going alone.”
She screamed, “I am alone! I didn’t ask you to love me, and I don’t want to love you!” Tears ran down her face.
He pulled her into his arms. “Then don’t. I might let you down, Noelle, but God never will. If you can’t trust me, trust Him.”
“Trust Him? Where was he when Michael beat me, raped me? When I snuck away and ran?”
“He was there. He brought you to the ranch.”
“To you?” She said it with such venom, he quailed. Her lip curled. “At least Morgan was honest. He didn’t couch what he wanted in pious lies.”
Rick held his tongue. She was right. He’d been dishonest with everyone, including himself, pretending he only wanted her well-being, when he wanted her so much he thought his heart might tear in two inside him.
Suddenly she crumpled. “It hurts so much!”
He caught her in his arms, held her. But it wasn’t enough. One mistake, one lapse, and he’d torn them apart. He hadn’t taught her God’s love by proving his own. He had made her fear God’s. “The Lord’s love is perfect, Noelle. And perfect love drives out fear. Please don’t be afraid of that love.”
The fight left her, but he kept her in his arms as the twilight deepened around them. It was bone-chilling cold. If they remained any longer they’d both freeze. “Will you come back to the house?” Maybe that was one step she could take.
But she hesitated. “What about Morgan?”
“We made our peace.”
She closed her eyes, and he circled her shoulders in his arm. She shivered as he led her back across the field. He hoped she wasn’t just coming in from the cold.
Noelle sat by the window in the morning light, gazing out at the snowy land. Where before it had seemed beautiful, now it looked bleak. Nothing was as it seemed. Everything had a dark side. Suppressed emotions surged inside her, ready to surface and explode. She jumped when Rick touched her shoulder.
“Morgan wants to say good-bye. He’s out front.”
Good-bye to Morgan? How many had there been already? But she nodded, then went out alone into the thin sunshine.
Morgan leaned on the white Lincoln rental and pulled a wry smile. “Sure do enjoy Christmas at home. It’s so peaceful.” He no longer fooled her with his careless, ne’er-do-well veneer. He took her hands. “You all right?”
She nodded. “Are you?”
He patted his chest. “Heart of steel, remember? Jaw too.” He worked it side to side as proof.
She didn’t believe him on either account. But what u
se was questioning it? He had his own shell, his persona. Maybe it was better to stay that way. Coming out was too much work and way too painful.
He reached up and rubbed a lock of her hair between his fingers, then bent it under her chin. “I tell you what, if things don’t work out, look me up.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “But for what it’s worth, Rick’s a better man.”
She blinked back her tears. There were so many things she should say but couldn’t.
He chucked her chin. “Hey. No shell.”
She sniffed.
“Good-bye, gorgeous.”
“Good-bye.” She went inside without watching him leave.
Rick stood in the kitchen, hands resting on the counter, staring out the back window at the fields where he’d found her yesterday. She had hurt him out there, but he hadn’t defended himself. Just as he’d taken the blame for her fall, he now shouldered all of this. Why? She went and stood beside him.
He said, “Is Morgan gone?”
“I think so.”
He turned. “Noelle, I’ve been thinking. I have to get back to the ranch.”
Her heart jumped, then she realized he’d said I not we.
His tone was carefully neutral. “I’ve talked to Mom and Dad. You can stay—”
“You’re leaving me here?” How could she face his family alone? Or was he trying to be done with it, with her?
He turned and took her hands. “Noelle…”
She tugged free, unwilling to hear whatever honorable words he couched it in. “You don’t need to say any more.” She slipped the ring from her finger and tucked it into his palm.
“What—” He caught her arm as she turned.
She yanked it away. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you or your family.”
“Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I need you.”
She stood where she was. Rick needed her? Rick, who needed nothing but his land, his work, his God? Why would he say something so blatantly false?
His throat moved. “I was going to say you could stay here if you needed time. We can’t go back together the way it is. But I guessed maybe you weren’t ready to marry me now.” He bounced the ring in his palm, then closed it tightly into his grip. “I’d say my guess was good.”
She stood for a moment, staring into his eyes, then dropped her face to her hand and cried. His arms came around her, and she pressed into his chest, need surging inside. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”
“I’ve stayed as long as I can.”
“Then marry me.” She could hardly believe she’d said it, but if that was all that stood between him taking her back with him…
It was a long time before he spoke. “I want you to be sure.”
She was sure. What more did she need than Rick and the ranch? She longed to see the crags in the snow, the golden log walls warmed by the fire crackling in the stone fireplace. She wished they’d never left.
She wrapped his waist with her arms. “I’m sure.”
Rick held her close. He was less than confident. Especially with the ring still in his hand. Did she know he meant the vows to last? He stroked her hair, caught it in his fingers, and turned her face up. “It’s forever, Noelle. No going back. No running away.”
Her throat worked. “I know.” She looked so vulnerable. Did she understand? Maybe her father had taken charge of her life for a reason. What sort of woman nearly died from inertia, as she had in Walker’s shack? Again he sensed a brittle spirit. Could she make a decision? One as critical as marriage?
His heart twisted. If she couldn’t, he’d make it for her. Otherwise he’d lose her. He knew it. “There’s usually a process, preparation classes, mentoring. But if we go back together I can twist Pastor Tom’s arm.”
Her whole face changed, lit from within. “Will he marry us at the ranch?”
He rested his forearms on her shoulders. “Let’s marry in the church and live at the ranch.” He saw her resistance, but that was not negotiable. “If we take our vows in God’s sight, He’ll make our union strong. A threefold cord can’t be broken.” He might as well be talking to stone.
She showed no understanding and little inclination, but she said, “If that’s what you want.”
Well, it was enough that she was willing. They would start out right, and he’d do better this time. With God’s help.
CHAPTER
26
William St. Claire stomped down the stairs in his dressing gown and slippers. Who would disturb him this late on a Saturday night? He pulled open the door. “Myron. What do you have?” He ushered him in.
Myron took off his hat. “First, let me say it’s obvious your daughter does not want to be found. There’s been no record of employment, no phone, no credit cards, no lease or mortgage agreements—nothing. I thought, until tonight, I’d be telling you it was pointless to retain me further.”
William’s chest tightened. “Until tonight?”
“I have something. A hospital in Boulder, Colorado.”
William made a fist. His worst fears…
Myron raised a hand. “They treated a Noelle St. Claire for injuries sustained in a horse riding accident. Noelle rides horses?”
William held his voice steady. “It used to be a passion of hers.”
“She was released in September, the claim filed against liability insurance held in the name of Richard Spencer.”
William released his breath. “Richard Spencer?” He searched his memory. The name meant nothing to him.
Myron shrugged. “I’m booked to fly out tomorrow. I’ll be in contact the moment I have anything.”
“Thank you for coming in person. I want to keep this between us for now.”
Myron nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”
William closed the door. Richard Spencer. Had Noelle run off with a man? It was possible, though unlikely. He went to the study and poured a bourbon. But it would explain her lack of communication. If she was embroiled in some romantic affair …
He looked up at the portrait of Adelle, the only picture of her in the house. She looked terribly young. She had been young. Their own whirlwind romance swept them both into a life full of gaiety and … His throat tightened painfully. Wasted at twenty-seven by the ravaging cancer, she’d gone from the beautiful woman in the portrait to a morphinedependent husk. In months. It had killed him—the best part of him, anyway—to watch her die.
Then he’d been afraid. Watching Noelle grow so like Adelle, the same sensitivity, the fragile beauty. He’d done everything humanly possible to keep her safe, but inside he knew there were things he couldn’t control, and it ate at him. He dropped his face into his hand.
What had gone wrong? Why had she left? Should he call Myron off and leave her alone? Hospital injuries from a horse riding accident. He’d always worried about that, but she’d loved the horses so much. He clenched his jaw. He was entitled to answers, at least.
Noelle breathed deeply as Rick pulled open the door and let her in. Pine and woodsmoke. The familiar shadows of the main room vanished with the click of the lamp switch, and she looked up into the lofted strength of the house. No place had ever touched her as this ranch did.
Rick rubbed his palm over her back. “Nice to be home?”
Home. She’d felt it the first time she looked out at the ranch spread before her, felt its solid beauty. After the hospital, after Walker’s shack … Oh yes.
“Wonder if Simon’s up still.” Rick glanced up the dark stairs. “Not from the looks of it. We’ll let him sleep.” He went back out for the bags.
She wandered to the kitchen and turned on the light. A hot cup of tea would chase the chill from their bones. Whoever had fixed Rick’s truck heater hadn’t done the job right. She filled the kettle with hot water and put it on to boil, then took down Marta’s tea tin.
She glanced at Rick’s mail piled on the table. Maybe she’d have another money order waiting. As she flipped through the envelopes, a business card sli
d from the stack. Her heart flipped inside her. Myron Robertson, Private Investigator. She jerked a glance over her shoulder.
“What’s the matter?” Rick came in behind her, setting the bags down on either side of him.
She handed him the card with numb fingers.
“You know him?”
She nodded. “He’s the investigator Daddy uses.”
Rick set the card down. “We’re calling your father in the morning, anyway.”
She stared at him with a mixture of betrayal and disbelief. How could he say that so dispassionately? “What do you mean?”
“Noelle, I’m not a thief. I’ll ask his permission—”
“He won’t give it.”
At the whistle, Rick turned and took the steaming kettle from the stove. “If I can’t have his blessing, at least I’ll have his knowledge.”
She sank to the chair. What did she expect? Rick’s sense of honor was overdeveloped. She should have known. Here they were, back in his hallowed halls, and he was once again the dictator. “What does it matter?”
He poured the steaming water over the tea bag in her cup. “It matters.”
“Why?”
He laid a teaspoon beside the saucer. “Because you can’t keep blaming him for what Michael did.”
She tensed, expecting the flap of wings, the amber eyes. They didn’t come, but just hearing Michael’s name and thinking of Daddy’s part in it…
Rick took down a box of saltine crackers, slid out one tube, and poured them onto a plate. “He couldn’t have known, Noelle. How could he?”
How could he not? He had governed and guarded her, but still he’d handchosen Michael. She shuddered.
Rick sat down and took her hands in his. Even at odds, his touch brought comfort. What power he had in his hands. She watched the muscles of his forearms ripple as he tightened his grip. She didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to think of Daddy and Michael. That was another life. She leaned close and kissed Rick.
He hadn’t expected it. In his surprise she sensed her own power. Without knowing, she’d taken an important step, another jab at the dragon. She didn’t have to wait to be kissed. As Morgan said, it was her choice. She kissed him again, the pulse in his neck throbbing under her palm.
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