His jaw flexed in an effort to stay in control. “Rachael! Why in God’s name should you be afraid of me?”
She rubbed her arm. “I don’t know. There is just…something about you…like the way you held my arm just now. And I can’t forget that story about you whipping an old Indian man.”
“Oh, for God’s sake!” He turned and started pacing. “The hell with that story! You want to know the truth about that? The old man stole cattle from a settler. He resisted arrest. So I whipped him. So what? He was just an old Indian, one foot in the grave already.”
Her eyes widened at the crude statement. “Just an old Indian? In other words you considered him of no more worth than a dying animal.”
“There’s not much difference!” he snapped, his dark eyes glittering now with anger. “What the hell do you care about Indians. You got any idea what they would do to you if they got hold of you?”
“Your kind friend Jules Webber already spelled that out for me once, Jason!” she answered, equally angry now. “I don’t care to hear it again. But they aren’t all that way, Jason. I was raised to be tolerant, to try to understand both sides of a situation.”
“There is no room for tolerance when it comes to the Comanche!” he growled. “Jesus!” he hissed, turning away from her for a moment and pacing again. “I don’t believe this,” he grumbled. “I come over here to ask you to marry me, and we end up arguing over an old Indian man. This is ridiculous!”
“It isn’t ridiculous at all, Jason,” she said in a calmer voice. “It’s just an example of why I could never marry you. The woman you marry will have to be just as prejudiced against the Indians as you are. I can’t live with that. And I simply don’t feel the passion a woman should feel for the man she marries. I truly am sorry if that hurts you, but I don’t love you, Jason, and I don’t think I ever could.”
He let out a disgusted snicker, turning then to face her. “Passion? What the hell would you know about passion? You’ve never even been with a man!” He stepped closer. “Marry me, Rachael, and I’ll bring out the kind of passion you’re talking about.”
She reddened slightly, and she realized the incredible danger Brand would be in if this man knew the truth. She swallowed before answering. “The passion has to be there first, Jason, not afterward.”
He searched her eyes, actually breaking into a sweat with the want of her. “What are you trying to tell me, that you have already felt that passion? That you love someone else?”
“No,” she said, quickly turning away.
Jason grabbed her arm painfully again. “Who is it?” he growled. “There’s someone else, isn’t there!”
“No!” she answered in a louder voice. She faced him boldly. “Ask anyone in town. I’ve been with no one. It isn’t someone else, Jason. It’s just that I don’t love you. Why can’t you accept that and let it go? I’ve told you I’m sorry. I truly am. I just don’t want to marry you.”
He let go of her arm but immediately grabbed her wrist. He turned her hand up, slamming the little box into her palm. “Look at that!”
“Jason, I don’t—”
“Look at it!” he growled.
Rachael swallowed back her fear and opened the box with a shaking hand. Her eyes widened at the sight of the magnificent ring inside. “Oh, Jason, you shouldn’t have gotten this before talking to me again first.” She closed the box and handed it to him. “It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. Some other woman will be overjoyed to wear this ring some day.”
He clenched his fists. “I don’t want some other woman to wear it! I want you to wear it. I’m going to be an important man someday, and I want you at my side—the most beautiful woman in Texas.”
She gasped when he suddenly hit out at her hand, knocking the ring to the floor. Rachael stepped back.
“I’m sorry, Rachael,” he said quickly.
“Please leave, Jason.”
He stepped closer again. “Don’t you understand? I have to have you, Rachael. I love you and I want to marry you.”
She shook her head.
She watched him tremble as he glared at her. “Keep the goddamned ring,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “I’ll find a way to change your mind, Rachael, you’ll see. Everybody in town expects me to announce our engagement at that dance Saturday, and that is exactly what I intend to do.”
“Then I would have to turn you down in public. Is that what you want?”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me!”
His breathing came heavily as he watched her for a moment. He walked past her and picked up the ring, then turned to face her. “You will belong to me someday, Rachael Rivers, one way or another!”
“If you really loved me, Jason, you wouldn’t threaten me. That’s just an example of why I’m afraid of you. You had better leave.”
He stepped closer, struggling to bring himself under control and keep the bitter hatred from showing in his dark eyes. “Forgive me, Rachael. Just give me a chance, will you? I haven’t had that much time to see you since you got back from St. Louis. Let’s…let’s just start over. We’ll talk. Let me keep seeing you.”
“Please just let it go, Jason.”
He put the ring in his pocket, then grasped her arms. “Give it a chance!” he hissed. He jerked her close, and she kept her mouth closed tightly as he bent down with an uninvited kiss, pressing at her lips so hard that he forced them apart. His cold tongue slated over her clenched teeth and she twisted away from him.
“It’s time to leave, Jason,” they both heard Lacy say.
Jason turned, shoving Rachael away at the sight of her standing in the doorway to the parlor.
“You’ve got no business butting in,” he growled.
“This is my house. Anything that goes on here is my business. I believe Rachael asked you to leave her, and I expect you’ll honor her request.”
“This is none of your business, Lacy Reed!”
“Rachael is like a daughter to me. Now you get out of here. Rachael has made it clear what she wants, so just leave.”
Jason breathed deeply, looking from Lacy to Rachael. “Some welcome!”
“I’m sorry, Jason. I tried to keep it friendly, but you’re the one who won’t let it be that way.”
“Somehow you’ve got the wrong idea about me. I’d be good to you, Rachael.”
“I’m afraid I can’t believe that.”
“Joshua knows me. He would be in full agreement. He knows how much I love you.”
“Joshua has never been in love himself. He doesn’t understand how I feel. Right now I have far too many questions about you. I am sorry this ruins your homecoming, but I can’t give myself to a man in the hopes that I’ll love him someday. I have to love him first, not afterward.”
A sneer formed on his lips as his dark eyes raked her body. She felt totally naked under his gaze. “Someday I’ll show you what you’ve been missing, Rachael Rivers,” he told her. He turned and walked through the door, giving Lacy a threatening look before going out, slamming the front door as he left.
Rachael withered into a love seat, putting her head in her hands. “Oh, Lacy, I almost told him. It was so tempting to tell him I know more about him than he thinks—to throw it in his face that I love Brand.”
Lacy walked up to her, kneeling in front of her. “You don’t dare. He’d have every man he can get riding out to Brand’s place to kill him. Just hang on a couple more days, Rachael, and you and Brand can leave and be free. Waiting until after the dance is a good idea. It will give Jason a chance to cool down some. He’ll be watching you close the next day or two.”
Rachael nodded. “Oh, Lacy, I hope we can get away without his knowing it. I’ve never seen Jason this angry. Now I know more than ever the kind of man he is. He’ll try to kill Brand if he finds out!”
“Well, it would take a lot of men to bring down Brand Selby.”
“He can round up all the men he needs.”
Lacy took her han
ds. “Just stay calm, Rachael. Go to that dance Saturday and act like everything is just fine. You smile, and you dance with a few other young men and serve punch and act just as normal as you can. Everything will work out, honey, you’ll see. In a couple of days you’ll be off with Brand Selby, and by the time Jason Brown finds out about it, you’ll be too far away for him to find you. You go off and be with the man you love.”
Rachael met her eyes. “I’m not so sure anymore that any place would be far enough, Lacy. You saw Jason today. He’ll come looking for us. Brand won’t be safe anywhere.”
Lacy squeezed her hands. “Brand knows how to keep from being found. You just let him take care of that part of it and enjoy being his wife.”
A tear slipped down Rachael’s cheek. “I wish he was here right now,” she said longingly. “When I’m with Brand I’m not afraid of anything. But when we’re apart—”
“You’re a strong, brave girl all on your own. You don’t need Brand Selby for that. And you will be with him, soon enough. Come into the kitchen now and have a cup of strong coffee, and we’ll talk some more.”
Lacy rose and patted her cheek. She left the room, and Rachael stood up and walked on shaky legs to the window, looking out to see Jason storming up the street. His last words haunted her—“You will belong to me someday, Rachael Rivers, one way or another. Someday I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”
Joshua’s saddle squeaked and his horse snorted rhythmically as he worked his way around the four mares and two colts that had strayed too far from the north pasture.
“Come on now, girls, I don’t want you chomping on this grass yet. Save this section for later.” He worked his horse first in one direction, then back in another, pleased with how the new gelding he had been training was progressing. The horse was obedient and seemed eager to please as hooves dug into the soft earth with each quick turn.
Joshua had kept busy all morning, not wanting to think about Rachael. It had been two days since she had been there and left. He had thought about riding into Austin and telling Jason, but he decided to wait. He was beginning to wonder if he had been too quick to judge, too cruel to poor Rachael. She had always been intelligent and reasonable, and she was a good-hearted, gentle woman.
He reasoned there must be some good qualities about Brand Selby. How else could Rachael have fallen in love with him? Joshua didn’t mind being friends with and dealing with Indians or half-breeds, but having his sister marry one was a far different matter. He wished he could make her understand it wasn’t so much prejudice on his part as it was concern over what such a marriage would do to Rachael. He had to put her welfare above all else, and marrying a half-breed was certainly not to her benefit.
“Git up there! Come on! Get going!” he shouted, grasping looped rope in his hand and swinging it in the air in a motion to startle the horses and keep them moving. All four mares and the two colts ran faster, headed in the right direction. Joshua followed, slowing his own horse a moment and looping the rope back around his saddle horn. “Damn,” he muttered.
It was Friday. If he was to make the dance, he should be leaving. But he was in no mood now for a dance. There was too much to think about. He knew Rachael would be labeled with every filthy name a man could think up once this came out in the open. Only Joshua realized how much she loved Selby to have given herself to him already.
“She’s a grown woman, you idiot,” he told himself. What right did he have telling her who to love? She was well educated, and surely she had met her share of accomplished young men back in St. Louis. Yet it was a half-breed who had won her heart. It all seemed so impossible and he knew it would take awhile to recover from the shock of it. Maybe then, maybe in a few weeks or months, he could accept it. Apparently he would have to, for Rachael intended to go through with marrying the man, with or without her brother’s approval.
Joshua sighed deeply, looking up at puffed white clouds hanging lazily in a deep blue sky.
A hawk flew overhead, and Joshua watched it drift away. He knew what Joe Rivers would have done. He would have been able to accept a man like Brand Selby, would have judged him on his abilities and his desire to succeed, and would have understood how much his daughter loved the man. Joe Rivers would have stood behind his daughter, protected her at all costs, given her the strength she needed to get through what lay ahead for her. Joshua wanted to feel those same feelings, but his hurt pride kept getting in the way. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right.
Maybe Rachael would think about what he had said; would break things off because she couldn’t stand losing her brother’s love and respect. He urged his horse into motion again, realizing he had both love and respect for his sister. He just wanted her to think he didn’t. It seemed like that was the only edge he had in saving her from a life of hardship and insults.
He headed up a gently sloped hill, still a good mile from the ranch house where Matt and Luke were doing their chores. As he crested the hill, he heard shooting and war whoops. His heart quickened. Indians? They had not had trouble with the Comanche for a long time. And Rachael had said Brand Selby had given the word to his Comanche friends to stay away from the Double “R.”
“Bastard!” Joshua hissed. “I’ll bet this is his doing! He sent them out of spite.”
He kicked his horse into motion, moving into a hard gallop toward the ranch house, which he still could not see. The gunshots grew louder. Yes, they were coming from the direction of the ranch house. Luke! Matt! Both boys were good shots, but had they had time to get to their guns? He pulled his rifle from its boot as he crested another hill.
“Oh, my God!” he groaned, spotting the house. It was in flames. He rode straight toward it, slowing his horse when he got within shooting range. He raised the rifle and took careful aim, then fired. One of the circling Indians went down. He saw Matt running out of the flaming house then, knew it was him because of the blond hair. Joshua rode closer and fired again as four Indians circled Matt. Joshua heard the boy scream out as a hatchet came down. Joshua aimed and shot down another of the men, but more rode up and shot several arrows into Matthew.
It was then Joshua felt the tearing pain at his side. The force of the arrow knocked him from his horse, and he flew off sideways, his rifle knocked from his hand as he hit the ground. His left foot remained caught in the stirrup, and his horse took off at a gallop. Joshua screamed with pain as his body was dragged over rocks and the spearing needles of ground cacti. He felt his clothes ripping away and gravel scraping away his flesh, some of it becoming embedded in the skin. His foot finally came loose and he tumbled against a toolshed, hitting his head hard.
He lay still for a moment, trying to clear his mind against the pain. He pulled at the arrow that remained embedded in his right side, but it would not budge, and the pain brought him close to fainting.
“Damn!” he groaned. “Sons of bitches!” Tears came to his eyes at the realization that Matthew had surely been killed by now. And they were sure to come for him. He lay helpless, looking around for his rifle, for anything he could use as a weapon. But there was nothing nearby. Smoke rolled black and ugly into the air.
Joshua heard the screaming and cursing then. Luke! He was fighting someone. Joshua was in too much pain to realize he heard someone speak in English.
“Come on, boy. A good, strong, young man like you will bring a good price.”
“Tie him to that horse,” someone else said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Someone was speaking in English. One of them had a Mexican accent. But the English. Brand? Sure. Brand spoke good English. Any Comanche friends he had had probably learned it from him. He hadn’t seen any of them up close, but there was no doubt in his mind they were Comanche. He had seen their long hair and painted horses. He had heard their war whoops. He tried again to get up. He had to help Luke. But nothing would move, and he was unaware that he was wedged in a washout at the side of the shed, in such a way that his body was hardly noticeable.
; His mind reeled with helpless fury. Someone was stealing poor Luke away, probably to sell to Comancheros, to be sold again into slavery in Mexico. He heard whistles and shouts as the Indians rounded up horses, and Joshua knew his best steeds were being stolen. There would be nothing left. Nothing. He would lose everything his mother and father had worked so hard to build. Vomit rose in his throat—his parents dead, now Matthew—Luke stolen away—and his sister in love with the man who probably planned all of this out of spite.
Now Rachael would know the kind of man Brand Selby was! He wasn’t sure he could ever love his sister after this, or even look at her. This was Rachael’s fault. He tried again to crawl out of the washout, but the hard blow to his head made him lose consciousness and he collapsed into the hole, one hand still grasping at loose rock at the edge of the washout.
In the distance Comancheros rode off with Luke, as well as stealing away tools, saddles, meat from the smokehouse, horses, and cattle.
“Jason was right,” one of them said. “This was a good haul.”
“Did you get the oldest one?” someone else said in Spanish.
“Sí,” another replied. “My arrow went deep, and then his horse dragged him.”
“Jason wants him dead.”
“No man lives long when he is dragged halfway across Texas,” came the reply. There was a round of laughter. “The last I saw of him, the horse was still running with him bouncing over the ground like a ball, the arrow still in his side. You want me to go looking for him, Lobo?”
“No, we had better get going. Others have seen the smoke from the house by now. We cannot let ourselves be seen too close or they will see we are not Comanche.”
“The Comanche, they have done a bad thing today, no?” someone else said.
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