She turned, her eyes flaming. “You don’t understand. And it doesn’t matter. Because I’m staying here.”
He released a slow breath. “With this cowboy?”
“Yes.”
He looked around the bare walls, then back to her. “You’ll be wasted here.”
“It’s my choice.”
Rick came in the door, glanced at them, and pulled off his coat. This was his turf and he knew it. William had taken a chance agreeing to come. But what choice did he have? Rick motioned toward the couch and William sat at one end. Rick took the corner chair, and Noelle sat on its arm instead of on the couch with William.
That message was clear. “So.” William fixed Rick Spencer in his gaze. “How did you come to know my daughter?”
Rick sat forward, hands between his knees. “She needed a place to live; I had a room to rent.”
William was unmoved by his humble position. “You never saw her before she came out here?”
“No.”
William looked at Noelle, who avoided his glance. “And the fact that she has a substantial inheritance has nothing to do with this?”
“I knew nothing about you until her accident.” He sent Noelle a glance. “I did check things out then, your Web site, mainly.”
New information to Noelle, but she didn’t seem disturbed. It was understandable for the young man to gain what information he could about Noelle after the accident that put her in the hospital—and allowed Myron to find her. Understandable, yet he’d taken financial responsibility. Why? William stood, walked to the window, and turned. “You paid the hospital bill?”
“My liability insurance.”
“You filed after you learned her financial status?”
“Yes.”
William crossed to the fireplace, leaned his elbow on the split log that formed the mantel. “You must have realized she was hardly destitute. Why not let her pay the bill?”
He hesitated just long enough for William to doubt what came next. “She fell riding one of my animals. That’s why I carry liability.”
“No waivers?” William lowered his arm to his side.
Rick said, “She signed a waiver.”
“But you paid her bill.” William saw Noelle tense and pressed harder. “Were you buying my daughter’s favor?”
To his annoyance, Rick grinned. “No, sir.”
Certainly not the reaction he’d hoped to provoke. Did nothing perturb this scoundrel? William jutted his chin toward Noelle. “The accident caused your limp?”
“I broke my leg, but it’s healing.”
William walked to the center of the room. “Was he responsible for your fall?” He waved his hand toward Rick.
She licked her lips. Did she see the trap he’d laid? “Yes” made Rick culpable for damages. “No” gave him ulterior motive for paying the debt.
“This isn’t a court, Daddy.”
He felt a flicker of pride. Her best choice, and she’d seized it. He returned his attention to Rick. “You didn’t wonder what she was doing out here alone with next to nothing and no contact with anyone?”
“I wondered.”
William tired of Rick’s succinct and non-informative answers. “You never asked?”
Rick said, “She didn’t want to tell.” A flicker in the eyes. Not quite the truth. Maybe he’d asked, but she hadn’t answered.
With the way she’d acted toward him today, William could believe that. Something wasn’t right. She wasn’t right. Was it from her past? She’d been high-strung ever since the kidnapping. If she were damaged by that childhood incident, wouldn’t someone have seen? Told him? Wouldn’t he have known?
He sat back down on the couch. “Are you aware that Noelle is already engaged?”
“Was.”
Ah, a touch of hardness in his tone. Rick didn’t seem eager to curry favor, nor was he cowed or uncomfortable. Under other circumstances, that might have impressed him. But Rick was not Michael.
“Her fiancé is someone I deeply respect. My foundation sponsored him in a program for underprivileged youth of outstanding ability. Michael Fallon exceeded every expectation. When he completed his education, I took him into the firm as junior partner.”
If Rick was impressed, he didn’t show it.
William scowled. “I’ve invested quite a lot in his future, and Noelle’s.”
Rick slid his arm around Noelle’s waist. “Mr. St. Claire, I love your daughter. I intend to care for her to the best of my means.”
“Your means?” They may as well both speak frankly.
Rick sat taller. “I have no illusions of equality. But I know what she wants.”
William threw up his hands. “She doesn’t even know what she wants!”
Noelle stiffened. “I do know. I want to marry Rick and live here at the ranch.”
William waved her off, annoyed that he’d been the first to break. “Love affairs are one thing. Think of the rest. Think of Michael.”
Neither one of them answered. His frustration mounted. His daughter was a woman. He had no say in her decisions, but he’d hoped she would listen. Of the two, he seemed to be communicating better with Rick. “You’ll sign a prenuptial agreement releasing all claims to her inheritance in the event of divorce?”
“Divorce is not an option.”
William formed a ghost of a smile. Youth and idealism. “Then you won’t mind signing.”
“Mr. St. Claire, everything I have is Noelle’s. What you do with your money is up to you.” He made William’s concerns sound cheap and demeaning.
That was a first. With all the work of the foundation, all his other philanthropic pursuits, no one had ever suggested pettiness. Nor had Rick. He’d merely expressed no designs on Noelle’s fortune. Well, there was something in that, he supposed.
William released a long breath, looked at his daughter. “This is what you want?”
She nodded. Had he ever been able to refuse those eyes, so like Adelle’s? Maybe he had spoiled her, led her to expect every desire to be fulfilled. Maybe he had overcompensated for the long hours, his own escape.
“Very well, I give you my permission. And more than that, I wish you happiness.”
It was as though the stick that held her spine erect was suddenly cut. She moved up from the chair and flowed to him, wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy.” At least she gave him the illusion of obsequience.
He set her back. “But I want you to talk to Michael. Explain why you left. You owe him that much.” He saw the muscles in Rick’s jaw tighten. Rick knew something.
Noelle brought up her chin, but she looked more brittle than defiant. “Michael knows why I left.”
And now William wondered. Had his early misgivings been wellfounded? Was Michael working him, as he worked a jury? Time enough to find out when he returned. He rubbed his neck. “So … how does one hail a cab around here?”
Noelle caught his hand. “You don’t have to go yet.”
“I do. I’m engrossed in a case we try tomorrow.” How many times had he said that over the years? Had he been a negligent father? Would he know her better, understand her better, if he hadn’t worked so many hours, so many days? It wasn’t as though he’d scraped for a living.
Rick stood up. “I’ll drive you down.”
Noelle let go. “You’ll come next week for the wedding?”
“I’m paying for it, aren’t I?” William got up.
Rick dug into his pocket for keys. “Actually, there’s not much expense. We’re having a small ceremony, with a reception here at the ranch.”
William raised his brows. “Not exactly what I had envisioned for you, Noelle.”
“It’s what I want.”
There it was again. What she wanted, though nothing near what he wanted for her. Where had he lost touch? “I’ll be back in a week for this … simple ceremony.”
He kissed Noelle and followed Rick outside. William had intended to solidify the prenuptial agreement on th
e drive to the airport, but something in Rick’s demeanor held him back. Noelle trusted this man, loved him. So he kept his own thoughts down the mountain.
United Airlines had one first-class ticket available to JFK. His chauffer, John, picked him up at the airport and drove him home. He spent the night replaying the previous day’s conversation. Was there anything he could have said and didn’t, anything that would have changed the outcome? When he slept he dreamed of Noelle as the winsome child she’d been.
The next morning, William went in early and stopped before Michael Fallon’s secretary. “Please send Michael in.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. St. Claire, Michael flew to Boston this morning on personal business.”
William paused with his coat half removed. “He’s second chair on the Witherston case.”
She shook her head. “He turned it over to Malcolm. He’s cleared his calendar for the next three days.”
William removed his coat and hung it on the rack inside his office door. The personal business Michael had in Boston would only postpone the personal business he had with him. There had been too much left unspoken in Colorado. Even if Noelle had what she wanted, he deserved answers.
Michael stood in the gallery and smiled, the first true joy he’d felt in months. Another painting and across from that another, both bearing Noelle’s signature. He had found the place that would lead him to her, but first, he allowed himself the pleasure of viewing her work. What he had told Clarice was true. He appreciated Noelle’s subtle, exquisite detail. It so exemplified her.
He remembered her long, delicate fingers on the brush. Her technique had improved and certainly her productivity. When had she begun to paint like that? Oh, he knew she’d studied art, had watched her work, but these landscapes had depth and emotion. She should continue painting as a creative outlet, even market the work if she desired, make a name for herself in the art world. He would support her efforts completely.
But now it was time to act. He glanced at the woman behind the counter, and on cue, she approached. Her wool suit was classic, but she wore a crystal mounted in a silver dragon claw around her neck, a curious complement to the extreme lines of her jacket and skirt.
She smiled. “I see you have an eye for quality. Noelle St. Claire is new in the market but very promising.”
Promising was a good word. He would buy the painting, present it to her as a symbol. But he needed to be careful, not too eager. If he’d read this woman right, he could play off her own signals. “Yes, there’s something about it, as though … I’m meant to have it.”
The creases deepened at the corners of her eyes. “Some of the pieces speak to me too. Maybe the artist leaves an aura to which sensitive minds respond.”
Michael gave that idea respectful consideration. Of course, he would respond to anything Noelle had done. How could he not? “Very possible. And in this case even more so. I grew up with a Noelle St. Claire.” It was almost true. William St. Claire was his spiritual father, if you wanted to look at it that way. “And she was an artist. What do you think the chance is it’s the same person?”
“It’s an uncommon name.” The woman’s gaze deepened as though trying to sense the connection. “I read once where a man recognized his father by the vibrations in the old man’s sculptures. Maybe her paintings sent vibes that brought you in today.”
“If that’s true, I must take this one.” Let her think she’d sold him. This was a partnership after all; she had information he needed.
“Very good.” She took the painting from the easel and started toward the counter. “Not many people listen to their centers, but I think it’s important to surround yourself with things that resonate.”
“Oh, certainly.” Michael joined her at the counter. “You wouldn’t have an address or phone number where I could reach Noelle….” He straightened his cuffs and pulled the wallet from his coat.
“I’m afraid not.” She wrapped the painting in paper and taped it. “Her work is sent here from Colorado through an agent out there.”
Colorado? Michael let his face fall. “Too bad. I had such a strong sense of … purpose.” He met the woman’s eyes, established contact, then showed the force of his disappointment. “What if the vibes were a call or signal?”
She fingered the crystal hanging at her sternum. “Do you think so?” She studied the wrapped painting, obviously missing its power but believing nonetheless. “Well, I do actually have an address where I send her money orders—no checks. Probably doesn’t trust the government.” She gave him a pensive look, then pulled out a large notebook, flipping to the back. “Yes, here it is. Have you something to write this down?”
Michael was ready with pen and personal organizer. He wrote the address with reverence. “Thank you very much.” He flashed his smile as he took the painting in his arms. “You’ve been invaluable.”
“I listen to my center too.” The woman rested her hands on the counter.
He sensed her satisfied gaze as he went out. He had read her perfectly. And now—he clasped the address tightly and drew a jagged breath—he had Noelle.
CHAPTER
28
Noelle read the thermometer through the kitchen window, an unseasonable forty-seven degrees. The January sunshine was brilliant on the snow, illuminating her world. The weight of the last few months no longer pressed her down, though she still could not believe Daddy had approved her decision. Facing him had not been the trial she anticipated, but it had stirred the shadows.
Maybe that was something she would live with. Maybe it would fade. The important thing was she had taken control. She pulled on the kidleather gloves and western hat Rick had bought her in town, then turned as he came in.
“How do I look?”
He straddled her with his arms against the counter. “Like my bride. Almost.” He tipped her hat back and kissed her. “You’re all saddled up and ready to go.”
“I hope my leg is strong enough … and Aldebaran’s.”
His mouth twitched. “You have to try sooner or later.”
She went out and stopped short. Destiny stood tethered to the porch, nodding his head as she came close. She turned to Rick, brows raised.
He smiled. “He’s ready for you now.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She should be ecstatic, but body memories of the crushing pain, of Aldebaran thrashing, of Destiny’s own power and his hooves…
Rick led her around to Destiny’s side. “It’ll be fine.”
Why did he always say that? How did he know? But she slipped the toe of her boot in and swung up. “Are you coming?”
“I have work to do.” He unwound the reins and handed them up.
“Rick, I’m not sure.”
“After all that pestering?” He put on a falsetto. “I can take him myself, Rick. He wants me to ride him.”
She slapped his hand for poking fun, but he was right. She had fought for just this moment. “Well, he does and I can—so there.” She pulled up Destiny’s head and brought him around. He responded to her gentlest touch as she nudged him with her heels. She remembered his gait, smooth and even, and matched her motion to it.
Past the apron, she smiled back at Rick, then urged the horse to a trot without posting. Her leg would not bear the strain, and besides, Rick preferred she ride the trot. She broke into a canter, then let him run up along the frozen stream. Rick knew she had to do this on her own, and she could.
She threw away her caution as Destiny ran over the snowy ground, his mane flying like red flames, like the flames Rick had fought and beaten. Not even nature could stand in his way. As they charged up the meadow, she exulted in the horse’s power and speed, then slowed him and slipped into the shadow of the woods.
At the base of the shale slope, she looked up. Snow covered the gray mountainside completely, but she shivered with the memory of her rash behavior. Destiny carried her past without wavering, his young, spirited stride strong and sure. Coming back out, she found Rick at the high pasture
and brought Destiny up beside him.
With the same hand that held the hammer, he pulled the U-shaped nail from his mouth and stood up. “How is it?”
“Wonderful. But you already knew that.” She leaned down and kissed him. “What happened to the fence?”
He bounced the nail in his palm. “Mountain lion spooked the stallions last night and they kicked it up.”
“Mountain lion! How do you know?”
“I saw the prints.”
She looked across the pasture. “Will it come back?”
“Probably. But it’s after easy prey. You’re way too much work.”
She stuck out her tongue.
He laughed. “What I wouldn’t give for your society friends to see that.”
She raised her chin. “Well, too bad. I haven’t any.”
He cupped her knee in his palm. “I’ll see to it you know everyone on this mountain. All one hundred twenty-three of them.” He rubbed the place where her thigh muscle joined her knee and the scar was just starting to heal. Then he felt from her knee to the top of her boot, checking her musculature. “Had enough?”
“My leg says yes.” Of course, he’d already discovered that. Even in the stirrup it was shaking.
“It’ll get stronger the more you work it. Do you want me to drive down, get you unsaddled?”
“No, I can manage.”
He nodded. “Put him in the back end stall. I’ll pick his hooves and curry him when I finish here.”
Noelle nodded and rode down gently, reluctant to let the ride end but aware of the strain in her leg. She would be in pain tonight. She led Destiny into the dim stable and uncinched the saddle. “You are wonderful.” She pulled the bit from his mouth and hung it on the wall. He nuzzled her as she ran her hands over his neck and side. “Thank you for carrying me so well.” She walked down the row of stalls to Aldebaran.
The mare nickered, and Noelle reached a hand to her muzzle. “I’m glad you’re all right now too.” The sound of tires on the gravel. Rick must have finished. She went out, blinking in the glare of the sun on the snow, then froze.
A Rush of Wings Page 35