“Major—I should say Mr. Banning! What a surprise this is.”
“I’m glad to see you in such good spirits, sir.”
“Don’t call me sir. My name is John. There’s no need for formality, is there?”
“I guess not.”
“Jules, fetch Noble some brandy and tell Anne we have company.”
“Yes, Papa.”
As she disappeared silently into the house, Crowley waved Noble into one of the wrought-iron chairs opposite him. “What brings you to Boston, Noble?”
“Some unfinished business.”
Hearing his tone, Juliet guessed at his topic. She hurried anxiously to her father’s study. How had Noble uncovered her lie? Was he here to demand answers from her father? Her hands shook as she poured out two glasses of amber liquor that would undoubtedly burn less harshly than the truth.
So he hadn’t been able to let it go. The war was over, yet he still pursued retribution. With that kind of zeal, that kind of single-minded focus, what chance was there of him ever forgiving her for putting him off the scent for these past months.
Or had he immediately seen through her lie for what it was? Did he think of it as another trick, as another sleight of hand to deny him the information that weighed more than duty? Or would he believe her now if she told him the truth, her truth, that she’d only thought to give him peace of mind. Would he even care to listen to her explanation?
She’d heard nothing from him since she’d left the fort. His future was wide open now, and once he’d heard what her father would tell him, she’d never see him again.
He could get on with his life—and she with hers.
She swallowed hard and started back for the patio, carrying both glasses. Once there, she paused in the doorway, sidelined by surprise because of the easy way the two men were speaking together—like old comrades in arms, like friends. That was something she’d never expected.
“There you are, Jules. Bring those in before they get too warm.”
She moved quickly to deliver the drinks, careful not to lift her gaze as she handed one to Noble. But his hand slipped over hers as she tried to pass him the glass, and when he didn’t let go, she had to look up.
She expected to see accusation, anger, even disappointment in his cool blue gaze but all she saw was a question. Afraid to interpret what puzzled him so, she forced a narrow smile and said, “I’ll go tell Anne you’re here.”
His brows lowered. Not exactly displeasure. Definitely curiosity.
She slipped her hand out from under his. He had to let go or drop the glass. As soon as he did, she headed for the house, chiding herself for the way his touch left her nerves hopping like Mexican jumping beans.
But Anne had already heard Noble’s arrival and swept past Juliet to embrace their guest as he stood.
“Mr. Banning, what an honor.”
“Miz Stacy, a pleasure.”
Anne stepped back, her cheeks pinkening prettily as she cast a secret glance at the colonel. “Actually, it’s Mrs. Crowley now.” She displayed her ring finger with girlish excitement. “For all of two weeks.”
“Congratulations.” He gave her another hug and a kiss on the cheek while his gaze cut to Juliet over the other woman’s shoulder. Again Juliet read questions there, questions she didn’t want to answer.
“That’s not the only cause for a toast,” Crowley stated with obvious pleasure. “Not only have I earned a wonderful wife, I’ve managed to regain my commission. I guess the government feels an old one-eyed warhorse with experience is better than a yearling right out of the gate.”
Noble stared at him, his smile uncertain. “You’re going back to Fort Blair?”
“Next week,” Anne said, her satisfaction evident as she went to encircle her new husband’s shoulders with the fond wrap of her arms. “I never thought I’d miss the dust and heat so much, but I can’t wait to get back home.”
Crowley lifted his glass. “To Fort Blair and the men who served her bravely.”
Noble joined him with a “Here, here,” and drank the brandy down in a single gulp. He toasted the couple, but his attention had another focus: the woman who stood, a passive observer, in the doorway. Noting the direction of his gaze, Crowley patted his wife’s hand.
“I must see to my eyedrops. Anne, would you be kind enough to fetch them for me? Juliet, keep Noble company for about an hour until my vision clears. Then we’ll enjoy a bountiful meal instead of the poor excuse for fodder that we dined on at the post.”
Juliet looked far from enthusiastic, and Noble wondered why. Had he waited too long? Had she found someone else? He had to get her alone to ferret out those answers.
“Perhaps we can walk. I’d like to reacquaint myself with some of the sights. I’ve some fond memories from when I attended Harvard.”
“If you like. We won’t be gone long, Papa.”
Crowley gave her a piercing stare and an order to “Take your time.”
After the heat of the West, Boston’s air held a decided chill. And so did Juliet Crowley. He was prepared for the first but uncertain how to protect himself from the other.
“So your father married Anne.”
“Yes. She’s good for him. They make each other very happy.”
He advanced to the next step. “And returning to Fort Blair.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Will you go with them?”
“No. There’s nothing for me there. Anne will take good care of Papa.”
“What about … your friends?” What about Miles Dougherty, was what he wanted to know.
“Albert’s father, the senator, got him and Miles transferred into the Seventh Cavalry under Custer. Apparently that’s where the ambitious go to earn notice. With the Apache menace all but over, the Southwest is all but forgotten. The army is looking toward the Black Hills these days.”
“And Jane?”
“She knows Libby Custer. She’ll have someone to gossip with, and she’ll be with Albert, so she’ll be content.”
“And you?” he asked again. “Are you content?”
Still she hadn’t looked up at him as they walked side by side like cautious strangers. She shrugged philosophically. “One doesn’t live on the frontier without learning to make the most of what one has. I’ll be fine.” Before he could ask for more details, she asked, “What about you? Do you have your law practice established?”
“And have already won my first case.”
She smiled faintly. “Good for you.”
They walked for a while in silence. Noble felt her tension and waited to hear what was on her mind.
“And what about the other matter?”
“Which matter is that?”
“The unfinished business that brought you here to see my father.”
His steps faltered in his surprise. How had she guessed? He studied her taut profile and wasn’t encouraged by what he saw. Her lips were compressed, her jaw tightly clenched as if in a struggle to hold back her opinions.
“It’s been concluded satisfactorily. At least on that end.”
She stopped and whirled to face him. Anger and agitation brightened her glare. “So now what? Now that you know I lied to you, what are you going to do? Hunt the poor soul down and make him pay for tarnishing your vanity?”
Before he could answer, she continued in an emotional rush, “I don’t suppose you even care why I told you what I did. Why should you believe that I wanted you to have the chance to regain your pride in yourself and your confidence in your men, that I wanted you to be able to see your future clearly without the taint of retribution? What good would it have done you to learn the truth? You can’t make amends for your father by becoming everything he’s not at the sacrifice of who you really are.”
“I know.”
His soft-spoken reply threw her off stride. She took an uncertain breath and added, “So what good would it do for you to blindly seek justice wit
hout knowing the reasons or the circumstances—”
“None.”
She hesitated again, her breath suspended, her gaze searching his in confusion.
“The past doesn’t matter anymore, Juliet. I came to make my peace with your father, to tell him that I finally understand why he did what he did and that I admire him for the difficult decision he had to make. But that’s the past. It’s the future I came to ask him about.”
Her luscious, kissable lips formed a silent O.
“If you’re not going West with your father, do you plan to stay here?”
She blinked, scrambling to come up with an answer. “No. I don’t know.”
“You hate the city,” he reminded her gently.
“Perhaps I’ll travel, see some of those places I’ve read about in books.” Her reply sounded breathless, and to him, unconvincing.
“Why don’t you come down to Kentucky and see if all you’ve heard about it is true?”
She flushed slightly as a combative spark returned to her eyes. “What’s in Kentucky that I could possibly find to be of interest.”
“Me,” he said simply.
She blinked again, this time because her eyes were swimming with unshed and unwanted tears. “If you’re asking just because you feel you owe something to my father or because you feel sorry for me—”
He laughed. “Darlin’, the last thing I feel for you is pity.”
Her gaze intensified. “Then what do you feel?”
His hands captured her upturned face between them. Her eyes remained wide and fixed upon his, asking for no less than the truth. Then they fluttered shut as he bent to capture her mouth in a kiss sweet enough to make her weep with joy, with hope, with love.
He raised his head at last to make an anxious study of her flushed features, concerned about the cause of her tears. When her eyes opened, her gaze was solemn, giving him momentary pause until she demanded, “Tell me in words.”
“I have nothing unless I have you.”
She snatched a quick, shaky breath.
“Come home with me, Juliet. Let me show you the things that I love enough to be willing to fight and die for. And if you think you can find contentment there, I want you to stay as my wife.”
She tried to speak, but the first sound came out as a squeak. After clearing her throat, she tried again, the words gruff with feeling. “Is that what you came to ask my father?”
“I thought it best that we come to an understanding if we’re going to be related.”
A smile trembled upon her lips. “And what did he say?”
“He said his mind was set upon it the first time we sat down to dinner together but that you were considerably harder to convince.”
“Did he?”
His thumbs stroked away the dampness on her cheeks. His voice was an equally tender caress. “Well, what do I need to say to convince you?”
She fitted her hands over his, stilling their movement while she studied his face, the face that had filled her nightly dreams and waking thoughts. “I’ve spent my entire life traveling from place to place out of duty. Just once I’d like to go where my heart leads me.”
“And where is that?”
“Wherever you go, if it’s for the right reason.”
The right reason. Noble’s thoughts scrambled for the answer she waited to hear. Then he found it in his best friend’s advice.
“I love you, Juliet. I want to make a life with you, a home with you, children with you. Marry me and make me content.” When she continued to stare at him in silence, he asked, “Were those the right reasons?”
“You state an excellent case, Mr. Banning. You are going to be a very successful lawyer.”
She started to put her arms about his neck, but he held them aside for a cautious moment.
“And your reasons, Miz Crowley? Tell me in words.”
“As if you didn’t know them, you arrogant man.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“I love you, Noble, and I want all those things with you.”
“You’ll give up following the drum without regret?”
“Only to follow my dream.”
A dream that came true with Noble Banning’s kiss.
Dear Reader,
As you’re getting deeper and deeper into the holiday hustle and bustle, don’t forget to take some time out for yourself—by indulging in an Avon romance! Is there any better way to enjoy a precious few moments of time for yourself?
Avon’s Romantic Treasure for December comes from Karen Ranney, whose emotionally intense and wildly passionate love stories are sure to warm up the coldest December night! In Upon A Wicked Time a young beauty transforms a wicked English duke into a man worth loving. This is a story that will go straight to your heart!
Contemporary readers won’t want to miss Patti Berg’s delightful Looking for a Hero. What would you do if a devastatingly handsome man washed up on your beach and into your life? And what would you think if he insisted he was a real, live 18th Century pirate? Fans of warm, wonderful, magical love stories won’t want to miss this “keeper!”
Readers just can’t get enough of The MacKenzies by Ana Leigh, and the latest MacKenzie is here—Peter. These heroes are hot, and Ana Leigh’s writing is filled with the passion and humor—and western setting—I know you all enjoy!
And if you like your romance stormy and sensual, then don’t miss Margaret Evans Porter’s Kissing a Stranger … where a beautiful heroine travels to Regency London, desperate to marry for money. But she ends up with more than she ever bargained for …
Until next month, happy reading.
Senior Editor
About the Author
ROSALYN WEST made a smashing Avon debut with
A Man’s Touch, which critics called “one of the best
books of the year,” and A Woman’s Heart, described as
“a book you won’t want to end,” and which was
nominated for Best North American Historical Romance
by Romantic Times.
She is currently continuing work on the
Men of Pride County series, which follows friends who
return from the Civil War to find not only their lives
changed, but themselves as well. The series began with
The Outcast in February 1998; The Outsider
(July 1998) is the second book; and The Rebel
is the third.
Rosalyn West lives in southwestern Michigan, and
invites readers to write to her for promotional
materials and a newsletter update by sending a SASE to:
P.O. Box 896, Portage, MI 49081. Readers may
also contact her on the Web at:
www.t1t.com/authors/ngideon.htm
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins authors.
Other AVON ROMANCES
THE BELOVED ONE by Danelle Harmon
ENCHANTED BY YOU by Kathleen Harrington
HER NORMAN CONQUEROR by Malia Martin
HIGHLAND BRIDES: HIGHLAND SCOUNDREL by Lois Greiman
PROMISED TO A STRANGER by Linda O’Brien
THROUGH THE STORM by Beverly Jenkins
WILD CAT CAIT by Rachelle Morgan
Coming Soon
KISSING A STRANGER by Margaret Evans Porter
THE MACKENZIES: PETER by Ana Leigh
And Don’t Miss These
ROMANTIC TREASURES
from Avon Books
A RAKE’S VOW by Stephanie Laurens
SO WILD A KISS by Nancy Richards-Akers
TO TAME A RENEGADE by Connie Mason
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
AVON BOOKS, INC.
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New York, New York 10019
Copyright © 1998 by Nancy Gideon
Inside cover author photo by McLain Images
Published by arrangement with the author
Visit our website at http://www.AvonBooks.com
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 98-93121
ISBN: 0-380-80301-1
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EPub Edition © OCTOBER 2012 ISBN: 978-0-062-24327-0
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The Men of Pride County: The Rebel Page 26