"Noble is guilty," Rachel stated forcefully, her eyes like green fire. "I don't want to talk any more about him. Especially not with you."
Delia dropped her gaze and said, "It's not Noble's fault that Papa's dead it's mine."
Rachel was rapidly losing patience. "Never defend him to me. If you think he's innocent, keep your thoughts to yourself."
Delia's shoulders slumped and she looked miserable. "I loved him so much that I was sure he'd love me too. But he didn't." She shook her head. "If you only knew how kind he was to me at the time."
"There's another word for what he did to you, and it isn't kindness. For my part, I prefer his hatred to his love. And he will hate me passionately before I'm finished with him."
Delia grabbed both of Rachel's wrists and dug her nails into the soft flesh. Her eyes took on a faraway look, and her voice was so faint it was almost inaudible. "Noble is not like other men. If only Papa hadn't died, I believe Noble might have married me. He has a good heart."
Rachel yanked her hands free, staring at Delia as if she were seeing her clearly for the first time. "My God, your love for Noble has made you blind to his villainy! I'm astonished at just how far you'd go to defend him."
Delia dropped down on the window seat and drew up her legs, resting her chin on her knees. "You have no idea how far Noble went to protect me. If you only knew-" Her voice broke off.
"If I knew what?" Rachel demanded. "Let's take the facts as they happened that day. First, you told Papa that you were going to have Noble's baby, so he went to Casa del Sol to confront him. Second, Papa's body was found on the Casa del Sol side of the Brazos. Third, Noble's gun was found beside Papa. If that doesn't add up to his guilt, what does? Tell me, Delia what more proof do you need?"
Delia tossed her golden mane defiantly. "Let's look at more truths, Rachel. One, there would have been no reason for Noble to kill Papa, because he could refuse to marry me and leave the state, which he did. Two, Noble is too smart to kill a man and leave his gun behind as evidence to be used against him."
Rachel had never fully forgiven her sister for the part she'd played in their father's death, but she'd buried her resentment deep, since her sister was the only family she had left. And Delia needed her at times. Like now. Rachel knew that her sister's marriage to Whit was not a happy one, and whether Delia admitted it or not, when she came home to Broken Spur it was to find peace.
"Come on," Rachel cajoled, hoping to end their discussion about Noble. "Get dressed and we'll eat supper on the porch, where it's cooler. You know you like Winna Mae's cooking."
Delia didn't appear to be listening. She seemed locked in her own hell. "It's not my fault that Papa's dead. I was young, in love and foolish. If only... if only I could go back and change everything."
"What you should have remembered at the time is that the Vincentes never married out of their class you were not of their social standing. Were you ever invited to any of the grand fiestas that were held at Casa del Sol?" She shook her head. "No, you weren't, nor were you likely to be." Rachel's tone became harsh. "The Vincentes spring from Spanish nobility, and you were only a poor rancher's daughter, not fit to polish their fine black boots."
"As I recall, Noble liked you. He always singled you out and showed marked attention toward you," Delia countered pettishly. "He even had a pet name for you." She bit her lip, trying to remember, and then sighed. "I've forgotten what he called you."
Rachel closed her eyes and tried to keep her thoughts from going back to a time when she'd adored Noble. He had called her Green Eyes. She didn't want to admit that she'd once been among the hordes of females who'd fallen victim to Noble's formidable charm. She'd been only sixteen the summer she'd first thought of him as a man. She had buried those memories deep, unwilling to examine them too closely. All she wanted to remember was that he'd impregnated her sister, deserted her, and killed their father.
Delia's voice fell to a whisper. "You seem to forget that Noble was never convicted of Papa's murder."
"Did you expect that he would be? People like the Vincentes don't hang or go to prison for killing a small rancher. But Papa has a lot of friends, and they would have lynched Noble if he hadn't run away like a coward."
Delia caught and held Rachel's gaze. "There are things that you don't know about, so don't go rushing off and doing something foolish. Just leave Noble to me."
"If you really thought he was innocent, you'd have spoken up long before now. You know only what your heart tells you to believe." Rachel's voice grew cutting. "As ironic as it sounds, Delia, you are probably Noble's only friend."
Her sister shrugged. "He was kinder to me than you will ever know. Even after... after-"
"Of course he was kind to you it got him what he wanted from you, didn't it? Thank God Whit loved you enough to cover for Noble's little mistake."
"Love was not a consideration when Whit married me. But we're alike, Whit and I," Delia added forcefully. "We're both ambitious and we'll do anything to get what we want." Her expression suddenly grew sad and she said softly, "Rachel, there must be justice in the world, because I wanted children so badly and have never been able to conceive since I lost the baby."
"You may still have children," Rachel said gently. "Just be patient a little longer."
"You don't understand. Whit says we don't need children. He says Texas will be our child."
Disgust rose within Rachel like bile. "Sounds like a match made in hell." She opened the door and glanced back at her sister. "Don't get in my way, Delia. I intend to destroy Noble Vincente, and I'll do it you know I will."
"You're just like Papa," Delia warned. "And you know what happened to him. If you aren't careful, you'll end up dead too!"
"I'm not afraid of Noble Vincente."
"No?" Delia laughed sardonically. "Maybe you should be."
Rachel grew weary of the conversation. There was no reasoning with Delia on the subject of Noble because she was still in love with him. "Take this for the truth-no one is more dedicated to Noble's downfall than I am!"
Delia's quick retort was laced with malice. "Take heed that Noble doesn't cause your downfall. Beware that you don't fall victim to his charms, as I did." She moved closer to Rachel, her eyes suddenly soft. "Noble is like the Texas wind that soars above us all. You cannot hold the wind in your hand any more than you can hold Noble."
Rachel grasped the doorknob. She had to escape; the room was stifling and smelled strongly of the rose fragrance Delia always wore. "I'll bring him down," she muttered to herself, and took the stairs two at a time, hurrying out the front door. "Somehow, some way, I'll make him pay for what he did to Papa."
Delia pressed a quick kiss on Rachel's cheek before she climbed into her private coach and settled back into the plush softness of the leather seat. "Think more on Whit's offer to buy Broken Spur."
"There is nothing to think about. My answer will always be the same." Rachel stepped back. "Have a safe journey, and write me." She watched the brown-and-yellow coach jolt into motion, and waved until it was out of sight. Then, with relief, she went to the barn, saddled Faro, and rode toward the Brazos River.
After riding for an hour, she reined in her mount and watched the way golden sunlight vaulted across the clear blue sky. Her gaze moved to the buffalo grass that was perpetually stirred by the relentless, blistering wind. She loved this land because, to her, it represented her father. She could never sell to anyone, not even Delia and Whit.
She hadn't intended to ride toward Casa del Sol. Her instinct just seemed to guide her in that direction. For a time, she galloped parallel to the Brazos River, which was the border between the Broken Spur and Casa del Sol. Both ranches had benefited from the Brazos's bounty in the past, but this year the water was low from lack of rain. In places it was so shallow that she could ride across without wetting her horse's girth.
Without thinking, she plunged Faro into the mud-colored river and rode up the bank to the other side. Her mind took her to a place of
reveries. Her reflections were of dark, flashing eyesthe eyes of a killer, Noble Vincente's eyes.
He'd dominated her thoughts since his return to Texas. Just like now, when a memory out of the past flowed through Rachel's mind even though she fought vainly to suppress it. She didn't want to remember how she'd once adored Noble. But the memories would not be denied. She could almost hear his teasing voice calling her Green Eyes.
Although Noble was only half Spanish, his mother being from an old and respected Southern family, his complexion was dark like his father's, and he chose to wear the traditional Spanish attire, as had his father. When Rachel thought of Noble, he was always wearing black leather with silver trim. Just as he had that day his image had been stamped forever in her memory.
Rachel's attention was yanked back to the present when a jackrabbit jumped in front of her, causing Faro to rear. With a firm hand on the reins and soothing words, she calmed her horse.
Again the unwelcome past invited itself into Rachel's thoughts. She was being drawn back, against her will, through the curve of time. She remembered the day she had accompanied her father to Casa del Sol to buy a breeding bull from Don Reinaldo Vincente. She'd been sixteen at the time and as vulnerable to Noble's charms as any woman in Madragon County.
When they'd arrived at the Vincente ranch, her father had driven the wagon to the corrals, where several of the vaqueros had been breaking horses.
Happily, she had scampered out of the wagon while her father had conversed with Don Reinaldo. She'd hurried to the corral and hooked the heel of her boot in the fence, hoisting herself up to watch. She recalled her father smiling indulgently at her; he never berated her or objected to her wearing britches and boots and riding astride like a man. He'd prided himself on the fact that his youngest daughter could stand toe-to-toe with any man and beat him at his own game.
Rachel's mind had opened up, and she was flooded by more memories. As she rode beneath the scorching Texas sun toward her destination, she visualized that day so long ago when Noble first unleashed emotions that had awakened her virginal body. Her thoughts tumbled, spinning out of control, backward in time....
Sam Rutledge conversed with Don Reinaldo while sixteen-year-old Rachel watched a vaquero trying to slide a leather halter over the head of a spirited black mare. To her surprise Noble came from the stable, his silver spurs jingling with every step he took. He propped his booted foot on the fence, tightened the strap of his spurs and then gave the silver spike a spin. He nodded to the vaquero, who was gripping the waiting mare's ears and holding her firm. Then, with catlike grace, Noble bounded onto the back of the exquisite animal, whose coat shone like polished ebony.
For a moment, man and beast stood perfectly still, but Rachel knew what was to come. The mare's ears were laid back in defiance; she was wild, untamed and ready to challenge the man who would try to master her.
With a suddenness that startled Rachel, the horse took a tremendous leap toward the sky, carrying Noble with her. The defiant mare resisted gravity and bounded upward again and again. She spun and bucked in an attempt to dislodge the man on her back. Yet Noble's muscled legs hugged the horse's heaving sides, and he refused to be unseated.
He was power and grace, indomitable. Rachel's heart pounded with excitement while the vaqueros yelled out their approval. She held her breath when the horse reared, kicked, twisted and turned, but still was unable to throw Noble. Time had no meaning as she watched him master the horse. His firm brown hands held the reins steady, his long legs issuing their own commands. Rachel felt glad that he used his spurs sparingly, knowing just how much pressure to apply without breaking the beautiful animal's skin.
At last the mare halted, her sides lathered and heaving, her graceful head bowed as if in surrender to the man who had conquered her. But she remained spirited even in defeat.
While the vaqueros shouted out their praise, Noble seemed as calm as if he'd been on a pleasure outing. His composure impressed Rachel more than anything else.
Seeing her, he rode over to the fence on the now docile mare. Noble stood up in the stirrups and swept her a bow, saying, "Senorita Green Eyes, you are growing up to be a beauty. With those eyes you will surely break every man's heart in Madragon County, including my own."
His smile made her heart skip a beat in fact it skipped several beats-and she struggled to regain her composure. When his electrifying gaze settled on her, Rachel tightened her grip on the fence post to keep her balance.
"Noble, you were magnificent," she said timidly, wondering why she should suddenly feel so shy with a man she'd known all her life.
He reached out and gently touched her cheek. "Careful, Green Eyes; you should never look at a man like that."
She was confused as she shoved his hand away. "I don't know what you mean."
"Do you not? There is fire in your eyes that would stagger the strongest man."
Her face flushed and she tried to hide her embarrassment by saying flippantly, "That's not so, Noble Vincente." She groped for words. "I was merely admiring your horsemanship. I have never seen such a mare what breed is she?"
He laughed and dismounted, tossing the reins to a vaquero. "I won't tease you anymore, Green Eyes. My throat is dry. Walk with me to the well and I will tell you all about the black mare."
She accompanied him reluctantly, wishing that her heart would stop fluttering. A new sensation tightened the muscles in the pit of her stomach and left her feeling breathless, a sensation that she didn't like at all.
"You said you would tell me about the horse," she reminded him. She pressed her palm against her heart because it was beating so fiercely she feared he could hear it.
He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "All right, inquisitive one. The mare was bred by Carthusian monks at a mountainous monastery in southwestern Spain."
"Noble, I have never seen a horse with such a shiny black coat. She has such strong leg muscles and must be over fifteen hands high. You may have broken her to the saddle, but you didn't break her spirit."
"I would not want to break her spirit," Noble said with a meaningful smile. "Neither a horse nor a woman should ever have her spirit broken."
Rachel tossed her head and gave him an impetuous glance. "How like you to compare a woman to a horse. That mare should have thrown you."
He gave her a look that sent her foolish heart reeling. "Perhaps. And yet I broke her to my will. From now on, the mare will be a gentle mount."
"I saw very little gentleness in her."
He smiled, flashing strong, white teeth. "She merely had to learn who is her master. Is this not so with all females? Is it not so of you?"
Before Rachel could retort, Noble raised his hands in surrender. "A man should never tease a woman who has hair the color of flame, and the temper to match. Am I forgiven?"
His tone was deep and compelling, and she felt it echo through her head. She nervously intertwined her fingers, clasping them so tighdy that her knuckles whitened, so she held them behind her. Everything seemed to take on a new significance. She stared at the ground, where his shadow loomed above hers, until he moved, making it appear as if his shadow consumed hers. "Are you comparing me to a mare?" she asked, at last finding her voice.
He took her hand and placed it against his heart. "You, my little beauty, are incomparable."
She jerked her hand away as if burned. Why was she behaving so oddly? she wondered frantically.
By now, they had reached the well. Noble took the dipper and scooped it into a bucket, handing it graciously to her. She shook her head, still dazed by his compliment. He had called her beautiful. Was she? She'd never thought of herself in that way not until today. Suddenly she wanted very badly to be beautiful, and to be older, because Noble still thought of her as a child.
He raised the dipper to his lips and she watched, fascinated, as several drops trickled down his chin to disappear in the dark mat of hair on his chest, just visible below his unbuttoned shirt. A flash of warmth spread throughout he
r body, and she found herself wanting to slide her hand over the same path the water had taken. She remembered the arranged marriage between Noble and a woman in Spain, and she felt as if the point of an invisible knife was buried deep in her heart.
Why had her feelings for Noble taken such a sudden change? She'd always thought of him as a godlike person who teased her and made her laugh. Now she was no better than all the other simpering women she had scorned for idolizing Noble to the point of making fools of themselves. Today she had found his conversation tantalizing, and his nearness unsettling. Seeking comfort, she gazed at her father, who was still deep in conversation with Noble's father.
"Sure you don't want a drink, Green Eyes?" Noble asked. "It's a hot day."
"I Yes, please."
He thrust the dipper into the bucket and handed it to her, his hand brushing hers and sending her foolish heart soaring again. Her hands trembled when she lifted the dipper to her lips, and she drank quickly, dropping the dipper back into the bucket so there would be no chance of touching him again.
"What will you do with the mare?" she asked, trying to swing her thoughts to the horse and away from Noble.
"Faro is a horse for a lady."
"Faro?"
"Yes, that is her name." Noble gave Rachel a slow smile that wrenched her heart. "The lady who rides Faro must have spirit to match the mare's. Perhaps I shall give her to you, Green Eyes. Yes, I think she should belong to you."
He started walking toward their fathers, and she had to run to catch him. She'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted that mare. "No no, Papa would never allow me to accept such a gift from you."
His expression grew suddenly serious as he slowed his long strides to match hers. "The horse is mine to give or keep as I choose."
Rachel stood beside her father now, needing his strength to calm her erratic heartbeat.
"Mr. Rutledge," Noble said with his eyes on Rachel, "I have just made a gift of a horse to your daughter, yet she says you will not allow her to accept it. I hope to change your mind."
Texas Proud (Vincente 2) Page 3