Rachael sighed impatiently. “There is plenty of time for those things. Right now I just want to teach.” She walked back to the stove, stirring the soup angrily. “You had better go and wash for lunch, Jason.”
He stared at her a moment longer, a sly grin on his face. “Still stubborn and independent, I see.” He turned and walked to the door. “I really am sorry about your pa, Rachael. He was a good man. We went around a few times over the subject of Indians, but he was a good man.”
Rachael faced him, thinking how different Jason Brown was from her father. “Yes, he certainly was,” she answered. She turned away again. “I’ll be ready to go in the morning,” she added curtly.
Jason once more drank in her voluptuous beauty before he turned and left. Rachael walked to a window to watch him, struggling to find something about Jason that she could like, frustrated that she could not even name what it was about him that made her so uncomfortable. She watched as the men gathered at a stone well just outside the front of the house, pouring water from a bucket into wash pans that sat around the edge of the well.
“Run into much trouble out there this time, Jason?” Joshua was asking the man.
Jason rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. “Not too much. Came across an old Indian man who stole a calf from some settlers.”
“You arrest him?” Luke asked the man, looking at Jason as though the man were some kind of hero.
“No. Wasn’t worth it. We took care of it. He won’t steal any more cattle.”
Rachael felt an odd dread. How had they taken care of it? What had they done to the old man? There was a smell of cruelty about Jason Brown, a hardness that made her want to keep her distance.
“You think the breed will give anybody any trouble, Jase?” Jules Webber asked then. The man splashed water over his face.
“Hard to say about that one.”
“Who are you talking about?” Joshua asked.
“A half-breed—used to scout for the Militia. I rode with him a time or two. Ornery as a wounded bear, that one. Brand Selby is his name. We had a little run-in with him. He told us he’s settling north of Austin.” Jason shook his head. “Only thing worse than a full-blood is a half-blood,” he added. “Now there’s one man to keep your sister away from.”
“All she needs is a husband who is also a Ranger,” Joshua joked.
Both men laughed lightly, and Rachael wished her brother would be more understanding of how she felt about Jason. She whirled and walked back to the stove, contemplating how delightful it would be to take Jason and Joshua’s bowls of soup and dump the broth right over their heads.
“I don’t need a husband of any kind,” she muttered.
“You know where to find me when you come to town,” Rachael told Joshua. She hugged him tightly, then turned to her two younger brothers, hugging them each. “You be good boys and help Joshua like Father would want you to do,” she told them. “And be very careful. Watch out for yourselves.”
“We will, Rachael,” Matt told her. “Thanks for everything.”
“I’ll come back in a few weeks to put up some preserves for you like Mother used to do. Soon as the fruit and vegetables are ripe, I’ll do some canning for you.”
“Thanks, Rachael,” Luke told her. “I miss that good jelly you used to make.”
She stepped back to look her brothers over. In the short time they had been reunited they had become as close as they had all been when Rachael first left home; closer, it seemed, now that their parents were gone.
“Once you get to town, you stay close,” Joshua warned her. “Don’t go wandering off alone.”
“I won’t,” Rachael promised.
Rachael reached up to the horn of her saddle, putting a foot in the stirrup and swinging up into the saddle, then fidgeted with her skirt and petticoats to be sure her legs were covered. Jason Brown watched her mount up.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather take a wagon, Rachael?” he said.
She looked at him with an air of pride. “Father taught me to ride when I could barely walk. Besides, riding is faster. This way we can make it by nightfall.” She took a last look at her brothers—quiet and shy Matthew with his tousled blond hair; energetic and talkative Luke, his hair as dark as Matthew’s was light; and Joshua, a man now.
“Good-bye,” she told them, her eyes tearing. “I love you.”
“Bye, Rachael,” Luke answered. Joshua and Matt added their good-byes and Rachael turned her horse. She rode off beside Jason, the other two Rangers following behind, leading a pack horse with Rachael’s baggage. Rachael thought how it seemed that lately her life was just a series of good-byes. She had an uneasy feeling, and she looked back once more at her three brothers, a terrible sadness moving through her chest.
“They’ll be fine,” Jason said.
She turned to look at him, thinking perhaps this feeling was due to having to ride with Jason all the way back to Austin.
“I hope so. I feel so guilty leaving them behind.”
“It’s what Josh wants. My men and I will ride back out in a few days and return the horses. So I’ll be checking on them again.”
Jason looked ahead, and Rachael took a moment to study the stern lines of his handsome face, the square jaw and proud nose. Today he was clean and shaved. “I appreciate your keeping an eye on them,” she told him.
“You told me that yesterday.” He turned to look at her. “I only do it because they’re your brothers, Rachael.”
Rachael caught the implication of his statement. “I know,” she answered. “Jason, I have only been back a few days, and I haven’t even started teaching yet. I know what you’re trying to say. Just give me some time to get settled in and get used to being back in Texas.”
He looked straight ahead again. “Are you glad to be back? You won’t go back to St. Louis, will you?”
“I don’t think so, at least not as long as Josh and the boys are here. I feel responsible to stay near them now that Father is gone.”
“Good. But I wish you would reconsider teaching. It just doesn’t seem right, a woman teaching school.”
Rachael bristled. “I am doing what my mother would want me to do. There is no reason why a woman can’t teach school. And you really don’t have any right telling me what to do.”
Jason looked over at her again, a possessive look in his eyes. “Maybe not. Then again maybe I do. You’ll be all alone in Austin. Somebody has to look out for your best interest, and I happen to care about you, very much.”
The remark seemed sincere, but Rachael felt frustrated, her feelings torn between anger and a feeling of obligation to be nicer to him.
“I’m sorry, Jason. I’m going through a lot of grief and a lot of changes to my life right now. I’m easily upset. But if you truly care about me you should understand how important teaching is to me.”
“All right. All right. I give up! I won’t bring it up again.”
Jason rode forward, keeping his promise and saying nothing more about the subject. They rode on for several miles. A few times they dismounted and walked with the animals to ease their load, finally finding a shady grove of cottonwood trees near the Colorado River where they could stop to eat and rest the horses. Webber and Greene made a small fire and began to heat some beans and some bisquits Rachael had made just that morning. Jason insisted Rachael sit in the shade and do nothing.
“Me and my men are used to fending for ourselves on the trail,” he told her. “You aren’t along to be a cook. You’re our guest.”
Rachael glanced at the two men with Jason. She didn’t like either one of them, but she told herself she was being too critical. Later, some of her apprehension diminished as she ate with them. They talked about how much Austin was growing and changing, just like all of Texas was changing. Soon it would be a state, and Austin was bound to be chosen as the capital. It had been the capital of the Republic off and on ever since it was first built for just that purpose. But opposing factions had wanted Washington-on-the B
razos or Houston to become the capital.
“It will be Austin,” Jason said with no doubt in his voice. “No other city in Texas is prettier, nor planned as carefully as Austin has been. Houston turns into a swamp every spring, and it’s too disorganized, too dirty, and too full of disease. Here it’s clean, high, and dry.”
“Except for being closer to the damned Comanche,” Webber said.
“We can take care of the Comanche,” Jason answered, a brittle ring to his voice. “We’ve done it before.”
Sam Greene grinned. “Yeah, I reckon we have.” He glanced at Rachael, looking her over. Both Webber and Greene seemed to prefer their unkempt look and had not bothered to clean up while at the Double “R.”
“I think I’ll go the river and wash my face,” Rachael told Jason. “I’m so hot.”
“Go ahead. Then we’ll all rest a few minutes and be on our way.”
Rachael rose, glad to walk away from them. Jason and his men watched her walk several yards down a bank to the river’s edge.
“She ever going to marry you, Jase?” Greene asked.
Jason tore his eyes from her and looked back at his men. “Maybe.”
Jules Webber sniffed. “Far as I’m concerned, you’d be better off sellin’ her to the Comancheros. That is one beautiful woman. She’d bring a pretty price.”
“Shut up, Webber! I care about her.”
“Maybe so. But it don’t appear to me she cares much about you. After a while you’re gonna get tired of her turnin’ her nose up at you. Maybe then you’ll see I’m right.”
“Eat your damned bisquits and keep your mouth shut.”
Rachael knelt at the water’s edge, unaware of the conversation. She put her hands into the water, scooping some of it up and splashing it over her face. She had forgotten how hot it could get in this land, and how brutal. That was what Texas could be. But she was certain the brutality of men could be much worse than the brutality of the land, and she could not help wondering how brutal Jason and his men could be.
She splashed her face once more, then rose, about to turn, when she realized she was being watched. She stood frozen, her heart pounding as a man rode into view just on the other side of the river. She stared at him in awe, wondering why on earth she did not call out to Jason and his men. The sound of the rushing river drowned out the noise of the intruder’s horse, yet she guessed he could probably move about without making any noise at all, for he was Indian! At least he looked Indian in dress, sitting on a painted horse, wearing buckskins, his hair hanging long. But it was not as black as Indian hair, and his eyes—they were green. He was an utterly beautiful man, and Rachael was shocked to realize she had even thought such a thing. His build was magnificent, his face perfectly etched, his whole demeanor proud and unafraid. He sported several weapons, and she knew she should be afraid, yet somehow she was not.
For a brief moment their eyes held; Rachael felt a wave of warmth she had never known before rushing through her body. She was amazed to find herself wondering if this was the unexpected feeling her mother had told her about. Surely not! She was staring at a complete stranger, an Indian, no less! Or was he? She had never seen a green-eyed Indian. Was he of mixed blood then? A “breed” as Jason called them with that ugly sneer in his voice? Was this the man Jason had talked about running into? Was he dangerous?
He broke his gaze to look past her, eyeing the three unaware Rangers. He smiled lightly then as his eyes moved back to her own, as though he knew he was playing a fine joke on the Rangers. Look how close he had come to the white woman they were supposed to be protecting. He could carry her off if he wanted, and they would not even know it! Yet she knew he would not do it; and somehow he knew she wouldn’t call out.
Brand Selby was just as awed as Rachael. He stared at the most beautiful white woman he had ever seen. He had come to the river to water his horse, and there she was, splashing water on her face. He wondered who she was, what she was doing with the hated Jason Brown. He gave her a nod and turned his horse, riding off. He had delivered old Many Horses. He would go to Oscar Kruger’s ranch now and get the horses he had purchased. But he would not sleep easily this night—not after setting eyes on the beautiful white woman with the golden hair.
Rachel stared after the stranger as he disappeared over a rise. It was several more seconds before she found her feet again. She put a hand to her throat, still amazed that she had not screamed for Jason, then turned and slowly walked back to the camp, sitting down in the shade. Jason looked over at her.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
She looked at him and nodded, then leaned against the tree and closed her eyes. She pictured the man she had just seen, realizing then how much he resembled her own father in build and looks. Joe Rivers had worn buckskins most of the time himself, and he was tall and broad like the stranger she had just seen. She peered around the tree trunk and looked down at the place where she had just been, wondering if the man had been some kind of vision or if he had really been there. Maybe the Texas heat was getting to her. For some reason she did not want to tell Jason about what she had just seen, even though it certainly seemed the thing to do.
She leaned back and closed her eyes again, unable to erase her vision of the green-eyed Indian on the painted horse.
Chapter Three
Rachael watched nervously as children filtered into the tiny schoolhouse one by one. She had been settled at Lacy’s boardinghouse only three days, and after only one meeting with the circuit teacher, Mr. Dreyfuss, Rachael was left on her own.
Her emotions jumped from excitement to apprehension. This was her first true teaching assignment. She had lain half-awake all night, her thoughts wandering from how she would conduct her first day of teaching to what she should do about Jason, who had come to call on her every day since their arrival. She had also thought about the stranger at the river.
More and more children arrived, but before she could get started with lessons several adults, mostly women, made an appearance at the doorway, all eyes scrutinizing Rachael carefully.
Rachael suspected the purpose of their visit. She felt her cheeks burning as she faced them squarely, holding her head high in a display of poise and confidence.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I am Harriet Miller,” replied a tall, robust woman dressed far too formally for a visit to the simple school-house. It was obvious the woman was wealthy and liked to flaunt the fact. “We just wanted to meet the new school-teacher.”
The women’s eyes showed their doubt as they moved over Rachael.
“Well, you’re looking at her,” Rachael answered. She told the children to be seated on benches and moved around the desk. They all obeyed, watching the pretty new teacher with wide, eager eyes. In the meanwhile Rachael approached the adults at the back of the room. “I am Rachael Rivers.” She put out her hand, a friendly smile on her face. Harriet Miller could not help but return the gesture.
“I’m from the Austin area, you know,” Rachael told them, scanning the small group and wearing a pleasant smile. “I studied for three years in St. Louis and passed all the exams that qualify me to teach. I truly appreciate your giving me this chance. I look forward to teaching here. It was always my mother’s dream that I would be able to further my education and put it to use like this. She was denied the education she always wished she could have. I’m just sorry she died before she could see me fulfill her dreams for me.”
Mrs. Miller nodded. “Yes, how sad. Some of those here with me knew your parents. We know quite a bit about you, both through knowing your family and through the résumé you submitted to Mr. Dreyfuss.” A faint smile finally moved over the woman’s lips. “We are the committee who agreed with Mr. Dreyfuss to give a woman teacher a chance, mostly because you are from Austin. Austin is a fast-growing city, you know, soon to be the capital of Texas. We like to think we are a forward-moving city, willing to try new ideas. We’ve come to welcome you. Do you mind if we observe you for
a while?”
Rachael swallowed back a nervous dread. These people were doubting her ability. Her stubborn determination to prove herself gave her the courage she needed.
“Be my guest,” she answered.
Mrs. Miller finally smiled fully. “Thank you.” The woman turned and introduced the rest of those with her, all of them the more prominent people of Austin, businessmen and wives of businessmen.
After a few exchanges, Rachael quickly got the children in order and recorded all their names and ages. She passed a book around, asking each one to read from it.
Soon Rachael had the children organized into groups according to their learning abilities, each group participating in learning games. Even the older, more skeptical children were soon involved.
Rachael’s heart swelled with the satisfaction of watching them. Harriet Miller moved toward the desk while all the children sat quietly reading, some of the smaller ones sitting in a corner making words with big, wooden blocks on which Rachael had painted letters.
“It’s obvious the children like you very much,” Mrs. Miller told her in a lowered voice. “I think we’ve seen enough for today.” The woman put out her hand and Rachael took it. “We think you’ll do just fine, Miss Rivers.”
“Thank you,” Rachael answered.
“I plan to have a formal get-together at my home soon where I would like more of my friends to meet you. I’ll let you know when it will be. Welcome back to Austin.”
Rachael breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s very nice of you, Mrs. Miller.”
The woman nodded and paraded out of the schoolroom, followed by the other adults. Rachael sank into the chair behind her desk, sighing deeply. She felt as though she had just passed the most rigorous exam of any she had ever taken. She sat there a moment, composing herself, then rose and walked to a window to look out at the sky.
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