"I don't know how I would have lived with the guilt if anything had happened to Zeb."
"He worships you, Rachel."
A knock came at the front door. Rachel placed the tray on the table and went to answer it. When she opened the door, she found Noble and another man standing there.
"Come in," she said, wishing she'd put on a gown that morning instead of trousers.
Noble smiled at her in greeting. "How's Zeb?"
"Enjoying a life of ease."
Rachel looked at the man who accompanied Noble, expecting to be introduced. Rachel judged that he wasn't much older than herself. His hair was shiny, black and shoulder-length, but neatly tied away from his face. He looked uncomfortable in the black suit and wool greatcoat he wore. She met his eyes and saw something like anxiety reflected there. That was when she realized that he had the features and high cheekbones of an Indian.
"May we see Winna Mae?" Noble asked.
Rachel was puzzled, but said, "I'll get her."
Moments later she returned with Winna Mae. The housekeeper had removed her apron and smiled at Noble with genuine friendliness.
Noble looked uncertain for a moment. Then he took Winna Mae's hand and led her to the young man, who had not spoken a word. "Winna Mae, I'd like you to meet your son."
Noble felt Winna Mae's hand tremble and she stumbled backward. A gasp escaped Rachel's lips and tears swam in her eyes.
The young Indian man's eyes softened and he went to Winna Mae and said in perfect English, "Mother, you look just as my father described you.,,
Winna Mae reached out and touched his face tenuously, as if she were afraid he wasn't real. "Silent One, can it be you?"
"It is I.But my name is now He Who Walks Tall," he said with pride. "At the white man's school they called me Robert Tall."
"You look so like your father," she said, wanting to take him in her arms, but knowing an Indian warrior would not welcome such a show of affection from his mother. "Is your father--"
"Five winters ago, he died. We both thought you dead."
Winna Mae inched closer to her son, wanting so much to put her arms around him, but still she dared not.
He Who Walks Tall took the decision out of her hands. His strong arms slid around her shoulders and he brought her to his chest. "Mother, I thought I had no family, but now I have you."
Noble took Rachel's hand and led her toward the parlor so mother and son could become acquainted.
"Noble," Winna Mae called after him softly.
Noble paused and turned back to the housekeeper.
"I can never thank you for--"
Noble held up his hand. "There is no need to thank me."
He moved Rachel out of the room, and she stood for a long moment with her back to him. When she turned to him, she was crying softly. "Do you know how wonderful you are?" She held her hand out to him. "I am so grateful for all you have done for us. But mostly for this for making Winna Mae happy. Did you see how happy she was?"
"Don't," Noble said, stepping away from her before she could touch him. "I didn't want your gratitude."
Rachel stared into his melting brown eyes, becoming reacquainted with the many emotions he brought to life within her. "Is something the matter?" she asked, wondering why he acted so distant.
"No, why should you ask?"
She offered him a chair and asked if he would like something warm to drink, but he declined. She seated herself on the edge of a chair and raised her gaze to his. "How did you find Winna Mae's son?"
"I can't take the credit, Rachel. My lawyer in New Orleans hired a man who knew where to look. This morning he brought the young man to Casa del Sol. It seems what was left of the tribe was imprisoned on land in Oklahoma Territory. He Who Walks Tall was sent to a school back east, where he was well educated. That's about all I know."
"You are much too modest. None of us would have known how to find him." She made a pretense of straightening her sleeve. "Winna Mae's son won't have to go back to the reservation, will he?"
"No. He can either stay here or I'll find a place for him."
"I'm sure he won't want to be separated from his mother after all this time."
Noble still seemed withdrawn; she had never seen him so controlled. "Are you sure you don't want something to warm you? Have you eaten?"
He drew in his breath slowly, patiently. "Rachel, I don't want anything. But I do have a bit of news for you."
She waited for him to continue.
"As you know, the sheriff in El Paso put Red in jail to await his trial."
"A good place for him."
"Someone shot him through the bars, Rachel. He's dead."
She paled. "Who... why?"
"That's what I'd like to know. I believe it was Harvey and Red who had tried to kill you. I thought Red shot Harvey to keep him from naming him as a partner in the scheme. Now it seems someone shot Red to silence him."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the danger isn't over, Rachel. Whoever hired them is still out there somewhere."
"You're scaring me, Noble. I had begun to feel safe. Now, if you are right..."
"All I am saying is that you must be particularly careful. Don't go riding alone, and don't take any unnecessary risks."
"I can't think of anyone who wbuld want me dead."
He rose to his feet. "Someone does."
Rachel stood and moved restlessly about the room. "I don't want to talk about that now, Noble. I want to tell you what's on my mind. This needs to be said, so please hear me out without comment-until I finish."
He swept his hand toward her in a gesture that told her to continue.
"This isn't easy for me." She walked to the window and then back again. "You were aptly named, Noble, by your mother and father. When I think how I have wronged you, and how much I owe you, I feel sick inside. Can you ever forgive me?"
He studied her carefully. "There's nothing to forgive."
"Oh, but there is. If you only knew how I feel about you. I..."
"Yes?"
"I admire you."
"Anything else?"
"I..." She dropped down on the sofa, unable to put her feelings into words.
"Perhaps I should tell you how I feel about you, Rachel."
She ducked her head. "I know, I know. You think me unladylike, riding about the country dressed like a man, always getting into trouble." She stared at the ceiling for a moment until she could speak again. "I'm not at all a lady."
He smiled. "Not prim and proper, but I never cared for that sort."
"I can't sew; I don't like to mend. I'm an awful cook. I can make a good cup of coffee."
He pretended seriousness. "A woman who can make a good cup of coffee has much to recommend her."
"Don't tease me."
He sat down beside her and took her hand. "Rachel, I don't think you understand what you've done for me. You gave me back my life. When I returned to Texas, I was a haunted man, with no purpose and no direction. Then you burst back into my world and tilted it a bit. You gave me a reason to get up in the morning-a reason to live."
Tears gathered behind her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "You are much too generous. I have caused you nothing but trouble."
His dark eyes glistened and a thin smile curved his lips. "You have done that."
"I wouldn't be surprised if you never wanted to see me again."
His gaze touched each feature of her face. "Would you like that?"
"No! No, I wouldn't."
He placed his hands on each side of her face. "I can't take a breath without thinking about you. When I see a sunset, I wonder if you are watching the same beauty at the same moment. You are always with me." He seemed to be searching for the right words. Finally he blurted out, "Will you marry me, Rachel?"
Her head fell onto his shoulder. She wanted more than anything to be his wife. "You haven't said you love me, Noble."
He kissed her forehead, then just held her close. "What do you think I'
ve been saying?"
She drew back, studying his eyes. Yes, she saw softness there, and something more. The hand that rested against her back was unsteady. Could it be that he loved her? Oh, please let him love me as much as I love him, she said silently. "Noble, I do love you. I have for a long time."
She watched as a slow smile lit his whole face.
"I wondered what it would take for you to admit you loved me. I was sure you did."
"How could you know?"
"Because we are so good together. And I love you so much, how could you not love me?"
Happiness filled her heart, and a warm blush climbed up her cheeks as she felt her body responding to him even now. But there was still the matter of Delia.
"Will you allow me to speak to my sister before I give you my answer, or at least before we make it public?"
"Because you still believe that I made love to your sister?"
"No." She touched his face, wondering how she had been so fortunate to win the love of such a man. "I know you didn't, because I now know the kind of man you are. You would never desert a woman as Delia was deserted by the father of her child. Whoever the man was, it wasn't you." She blinked her eyes to see through her tears. "The only reason I want to see Delia first is to tell her that I love you. Can you understand that?"
"Yes, I understand. But do it quickly. I want you for my wife."
He bent his head and kissed her until she broke away, trying to catch her breath, and she saw that his eyes were bright with passion.
"And I want you in my bed," he murmured, raising her hand and kissing her palm.
She laid her head against his chest and listened to the drumming of his heart. "I will go to Austin by the end of the week."
"No. I don't want you to leave the ranch." He forced her to look at him. "Invite your sister to come here."
"Why should I-"
"Because I will worry about you if you don't."
She nodded. "I suppose I must get used to taking your orders. I'll write to Delia, asking her to come at once."
His laughter filled the room and he stood, drawing her up with him. "A cat cannot lose its stripes, and you will never be subservient to any man, not even me." He hugged her tightly. "Stay the way you are. I would have you no different."
Rachel was puzzled, remembering the time he'd told her he didn't like other men seeing her in trousers, and wondering if he still felt that way. "Beginning today, I shall never wear trousers again."
He arched his brow. "Do you mean it?"
"It's a promise I make to you. I always keep my promises."
His hand clamped on her arm as a strong feeling of possessiveness took hold of him. "Now," he said, moving away from her. "I must leave you. I want to speak to Zeb and then to Tanner."
"You are leaving?" she asked in disappointment.
"If I stay around you any longer, I may forget where we are."
Rachel looked horrified and then intrigued by the idea.
Noble's laughter carried him out the door and up the stairs to see Zeb.
In that moment, it occurred to Rachel that Zeb was not staying in the house because he liked be ing pampered. He remained because Noble and Winna Mae wanted him nearby to keep watch on her. No doubt Tanner was supposed to watch her when she left the house.
Suddenly a chill took the edge off her happiness. If Noble was right about Red and Harvey, then some nameless, faceless person might still try to get to her. Apparently Noble and Winna Mae thought so.
She was not a coward, but her mouth went dry and her chest tightened painfully.
She sensed that whoever it was, he would try again.
The sky was cloudless, and it was an unusually warm day for January. The snow from the previous week had melted, and a mild wind sweetened the air.
Delia had arrived the previous day and now occupied the overstuffed chair in the parlor as a queen would occupy a throne. She looked beautiful in a pink gown with white lace at the collar and cuffs. She daintily sipped tea from a cup belonging to the porcelain tea set she'd given Rachel for Christmas.
"Rachel, I can't believe it. Winna Mae finding her son after all these years." Delia placed the teacup on a low table and looked pensive. "Having a son agrees with that old woman. She actually smiled at me this morning. But it's a little unsettling to have an Indian in our midst, even if he does sleep in the bunkhouse."
Rachel set aside her own teacup, frowning. "It's not Winna Mae I want to talk to you about."
"No. I thought not. You want to tell me about you and Noble, don't you?"
Rachel glanced up in surprise. "How did you know?"
"I'm your sister. I'd be a fool not to know that Noble loves you, and that you love him."
"It's more than that, Delia. I want to marry him."
"Has he asked you?"
"Yes."
"And you want my blessing?" Delia's voice had a hard edge to it. "You want me to sanction the marriage?"
"I'd like that, yes. But mostly I want you to tell me what you know about the day Papa died."
"You don't believe that it was Noble's child I carried, do you?"
"I did for a while, but not now."
Delia let out a pent-up breath and leaned her head back against the chair. "I have relived that day over and over in my mind." She lifted a trembling hand to her face and seemed visibly to shrink. "When I told Papa that I was going to have a child, I thought he was going to strike me." Her gaze went to Rachel. "He never loved me like he did you. I had hoped he would be a father to me just this once, and have pity for me. But he didn't. He raved about how I was no good and he'd always known I'd disappoint him. Then he insisted on knowing who the father was. I never meant any harm to Noble or Papa. I thought if I said it was Noble, Papa would let it drop, because Noble was already engaged to some woman in Spain."
"You loved Noble."
"What female didn't love him? He's not the kind of man you can keep from loving. And once you love him, you never get over it."
Rachel reached for her sister's hand, finding it cold and unyielding in hers. "Who was the father, Delia?"
"I can't tell you. But it wasn't Noble." Delia's voice rose hysterically and she jerked her hand away from Rachel and stood up, going to the window. "The man meant nothing to me. It just happened. Anyway, that awful day, Papa grabbed up his rifle and headed for Casa del Sol." She buried her head in her hands and sobbed. "I never saw him in such a rage. He said Noble would marry me or he'd never see another sunrise." She turned to her sister. "I died a hundred times that day, as I tried to imagine Noble denying that my baby was his. I was humiliated, and I thought Papa would come home, knowing I'd lied to him." She walked back to the chair and slumped into it. "I wish whoever killed Papa that day had killed me instead. I have paid for my mistake every day since."
Delia raised her head. "You want to know the ironic twist in all this? Noble kept my secret. Even when he was accused of killing Papa, he never told anyone that he wasn't the father of my child. If I know him, he was even reluctant to tell you, wasn't he?"
Rachel felt warmed by the honor of the man she loved. "Noble always insisted I ask you what had happened between the two of you. He did finally tell me, but only because it was destroying our love for each other."
"That's as I suspected. I'm so sorry."
"That's not important any longer." Rachel gripped her sister's hand. "But who could have killed Papa and planted the evidence against Noble, Delia?"
"I didn't know for a long time." She bent her head as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. "Lately, I've had my suspicion, but I don't know for sure."
"Tell me!"
Delia suddenly acted as if she were detached from her surroundings. Her eyes held a blank stare and she stood up, teetering, and walked toward the stairs. It was obvious that she'd been drinking. "I need to lie down."
"But Delia-"
Delia waved her away and left the room.
Rachel heard her sister's unsteady foot
steps on the stairs. She stared into space for a long time. What did it all mean? Who was the father of Delia's baby, and who had killed their father?
Rachel needed to get out of the house and breathe fresh air. Talking to Delia had brought back horrible memories of that awful day their father had been killed.
Rachel went to the new barn that had been hastily constructed, and saddled Faro. Galloping away from the ranch, she found herself riding in the direction of the river the one place where she could think undisturbed.
When she reached the Brazos, she wished she'd brought a coat, because the wind had shifted to the north, bringing an ominous chill. She dismounted and sat on the riverbank, reliving the moments she'd spent there with Noble. Her mind shied away from the day she'd been shot.
"Well, well, look who we have here." She hadn't heard Whit approaching. She watched him dismount and walk toward her. She felt a prickle of uneasiness at being alone with him. "I thought you were in Austin," she said, getting to her feet. Her gaze flew to the saddle holster, where she'd left her rifle. "What are you doing here, Whit?"
He moved closer. "Can't I visit my beautiful sister-in-law if I've a mind to?"
"I told you to stay away from me."
He drew so near she took several steps backward.
"I can't seem to stay away from you, sister-inlaw. You have a way of getting into a man's blood."
Raw hatred flowed through her. "I despise you for what you are doing to my sister, and for what you tried to do to me. If you don't leave me alone, I'll tell Delia that you tried to force yourself on me. Ill do it, Whit."
He grabbed her by the arm, dragging her resisting body forward. "I've known I had to have you the moment I saw you and Noble frolicking naked." He nodded to the river. "It was in this very spot that you went into the river with him."
"You!" She struggled against his tight grip. "You're the one who shot me that day!"
His smile was pure evil, tightening the skin around his thin lips. Bringing his brows together across the bridge of his nose, he glared at her with hatred. There was nothing boyish or appealing about him now.
"Yes, I did it. I couldn't stand the thought of Noble taking you like he took my loving wife. He's always had everything, while I had to work for what I have."
Texas Proud (Vincente 2) Page 24