Someone Like You (Night Riders)

by Leigh Greenwood

  Dolores had thrown a fit that was so embarrassing, Maria blushed to remember it even now. When Maria had tried to reason with her, Dolores had told her about the rape. After that it was hard not to commiserate with her even when her behavior was unreasonable. “It came as a great shock. She had expected something quite different.”

  “I’m sure she did. After causing Rafe’s father to throw him out, I’m sure she expected to be left the ranch, or at least control of it until Luis came of age,” Broc said.

  “It’s only natural that a wife would expect her husband to leave her more than an allowance in his will. I’m sure Rafe has told you—”

  “Rafe never talked about his life before he joined the Army. All any of us knew was that his father owned a ranch in California. I never heard Dolores’s name until we got here.”

  “After the way he took out that bullet, I can understand why you’re so loyal to him, but that doesn’t excuse the rest of his behavior.”

  “What behavior?”

  She had let her temper cause her to say more than she intended. “I can’t tell you, but I know of something that would alter your feelings.”

  Broc’s gaze intensified. “I’ve never put much faith in secrets that couldn’t be brought into the light. They leave me with the feeling there’s a foul underbelly I can’t see. Let me tell you a few things that are beyond dispute because many people saw what I saw.”

  Chapter Eight

  Broc sat up a little straighter, then drank from a glass of water before he began.

  “Rafe and I served in a cavalry troop of thirty-six hand-picked men. We made night raids on wagon trains, supply depots, gold shipments, anything we could to delay and disrupt the Union Army. We lost only five men before one of our number betrayed us. Twenty-four men died that night, most of them in their sleep.” Broc turned his face so Maria could see the scars. “I was shot in the face as I woke up. I couldn’t see the man standing over me because of the blood in my eyes.” He returned his gaze to Maria. “I would have died with his second shot if Rafe hadn’t stopped him. The campsite was overrun with Union soldiers and a few escaping Night Riders returning fire. Rafe risked his life to drag me into a ditch. He stood over the doctor while he tried to put my face back together. Rafe was ready to kill the man, but saving me was the best he could do.”

  Maria wouldn’t have tried to change Broc’s opinion of Rafe if she could. She was sure Rafe had changed, had improved, since he’d left the ranch, but nothing could alter the fact that he’d raped Dolores. She had no trouble believing Dolores had exaggerated Rafe’s faults over the years, but as much as she’d like to see him as Broc did, she couldn’t.

  “You don’t think he’s a good model for Luis, but he will be. Rafe isn’t always easy on people, but he’s really soft when it comes to kids.”

  “Luis isn’t a little kid anymore. He’s becoming a young man.”

  “Rafe was always the one to look after the new fellows in the troop. He was rough on them, but what he taught them saved their lives.”

  She could believe that. Rafe showed every indication of being the kind of man who could handle any situation. It was his ability to take charge at a moment’s notice that made it difficult for her to imagine him working for anyone, even a friend.

  “You ought to see him with Carlos. That’s Cade’s two-year-old son. He actually gets down on the floor with him, lets the kid ride him like he’s a big dog.”

  Maria couldn’t picture that. Not the Rafe Jerry she knew.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “It’s not that. It’s just…” How could she explain that the image was too far from what she’d been led to expect?

  “Come sit down. I keep thinking you’re going to back out the door and run away.”

  She didn’t want to sit down. She didn’t want to listen to any more stories of how wonderful Rafe could be. She had been comfortable with her picture of him as a spoiled, selfish, untamed youth. Then she could think he was handsome without any danger of being attracted to him. She could handle that. But how could she handle an attraction to a man everyone seemed to think practically walked on water?

  “I can’t stay. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable and advise you to take a nap before the doctor gets here.”

  “I don’t need a doctor. Rafe can take care of me.”

  “I’m sure he can, but he doesn’t have access to the medicines and ointments the doctor has because we don’t stock them in the house.”

  Broc held out his hand to Maria. Reluctantly, she stepped forward to take it. “I’ll see the doctor if it will make you feel better, but I’m not going to do anything he advises unless Rafe thinks I should.”

  “How can you have so much confidence in his medical ability? He’s not a doctor.”

  “Rafe worked with the doctor in our troop so often, he said Rafe could have set up his own practice if he limited it to amputating limbs and treating gunshot wounds.” He squeezed Maria’s hand. “Don’t be too hard on him. He didn’t want to come back. Doing so has opened up old wounds he’s spent years trying to heal. You like him. No use pulling away,” he said when she jerked her hand from his grasp. “He likes you, too, though he nearly bit my head off for mentioning it. You could look a long time without finding a better husband.”

  Maria was certain she flushed crimson. “I’m not looking for a husband.”

  “Every woman wants a husband just as every man wants a wife.”

  “I don’t know why I’m letting you talk to me about such an absurd notion. You need to rest, and I need to make sure Luis eats his lunch and starts on his studies.”

  “Luis can do without your undivided attention for one day,” Broc announced. “You know, Rafe loves this place despite the bad memories. It’s clear the people here want him back. You care about the ranch and Luis. You wouldn’t have worked so hard if you didn’t. Rafe belongs here, not in Texas. He’ll never be the man he was meant to be if he leaves.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I think you’re the one person who might be able to convince him to stay.”

  “You’re wrong. There are reasons I can’t tell you why I—”

  “I know. The secret.”

  “—could never have any part in the decisions he makes.”

  She didn’t like Broc’s smile. It made her feel as if she’d done something wrong.

  “I trust you to figure out the right thing to do.” His grin was pure mischief now. “You might need a little help, but that’s what I’m here for. Now you can run away and convince yourself everything I said is the result of being shot. I promise to take a nap as long as you promise to keep all sharp objects away from that doctor when he arrives.”

  There were a dozen things she needed to do, but she hurried to her bedroom and locked the door behind her.

  Her room was sparsely furnished—a bed, a large wardrobe against the far wall, an oak chest with a pitcher and basin, a dresser with a small mirror, and a couple of chairs—but she had no need for more. Her duties kept her in the rest of the house except for the hours she spent sleeping. A closet less than half the size of Dolores’s and a room with a claw-footed tub made up the rest of what was her personal domain. Today she felt very much in need of the limited privacy it offered.

  She didn’t want to admit she was attracted to Rafe on a physical level, but as long as it was only physical she could accept it. He was a handsome man. Any woman would find him attractive.

  To say she was interested in him elevated her predicament to a new plateau. She didn’t know what she had done to give Broc the impression she had ever thought of marrying Rafe. She had begun to question Dolores’s version of a lot of things that had happened, but rape didn’t allow for any interpretation.

  Unfortunately for her peace of mind, she couldn’t reconcile that act with the man she was coming to know.

  Everybody liked Rafe. She could see why the servants would—they were loyal to th
e family. Yet Luis had never been completely comfortable around anyone but her. She had taken pride in that without realizing she was limiting his ability to learn to get along with all kinds of people.

  Luis’s shyness made the fact that he felt at ease around Rafe all the more surprising, especially since she found the man intimidating at times. She had expected Rafe to be resentful of Luis. Not only was he the son of a woman Rafe disliked, but he’d cut Rafe out of half of a very large fortune. Since he had never seen the child, it wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d shown strong resentment. And yet he’d accepted Luis without protest. He’d said he intended to leave everything to Luis and go back to Texas. She’d discounted that statement at first, but now she was beginning to wonder.

  Liking Broc as much as she did made it difficult to ignore the things he said about Rafe. If there was any one thing that convinced her he believed what he said, it was his complete faith in Rafe’s ability to remove the bullet. You didn’t let a man you couldn’t trust cut into you with a knife.

  Then there were the servants. They had known Rafe when he was a boy. If Luis was any example, children were incredibly open and honest when they felt safe and loved. Rather than waste his time in typical teenage pranks, Rafe had taken up learning how to manage the ranch for his father. He’d succeeded so well that by the time he left, his father had made him responsible for all of the day-to-day operations. According to Juan, he was well loved by everyone who worked for him. According to Miguel, they’d lynch anyone who hurt Rafe.

  It was impossible to know just how Warren had felt about Rafe, but everyone said he’d adored his son, that the dispute would never have happened if Dolores hadn’t jilted Rafe for his father. The picture Warren had kept by his bedside, his increasing unwillingness to be anywhere near Dolores, and the way he wrote his will indicated that any ill feelings for his son were a thing of the past. But had Warren simply forgiven his son, or had he come to the conclusion that Rafe was right?

  That left just Dolores claiming Rafe’s villainy, but her actions had precipitated the crisis. Shaking her head, Maria realized she was more confused than ever.

  She sat down at her desk and pulled out her house keeping book. She needed to bring the accounts up to date. That would keep her mind off Rafe at least until dinner. After that she’d have to come up with something else. One way or another, she had to put an end to this attraction.

  Rafe wasn’t impressed by Cíbola’s sheriff. He looked big enough to handle the job, but seemed out of shape and uninterested, as if he spent too much time in the saloons and not enough walking the streets. He seemed annoyed he’d been called to Henry Fielder’s cramped office to meet Rafe. “There’s nobody around here who would shoot at you or anybody on your place.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of people who’ve lived here for years.” Rafe leaned back in his chair and willed himself to relax. He was trying to keep ahold of his temper, but it was hard when faced with the sheriff’s lack of interest. Fortunately, the lawyer intervened.

  “Mr. Jerry was wondering if you’ve noticed anybody new about town. It hardly seems likely that a stranger would show up and start shooting at random, but Mr. Jerry has been back only two days and his friend has never been to California.”

  “It was an accident. Someone was hunting and a bullet went astray.”

  “We considered that.” Rafe was annoyed at having to repeat what he’d said earlier. “My manager says no one was out hunting or doing target practice. I know looking for a stranger with a reason to shoot Broc is a longshot, but we’ve run into dead ends with every other line of questioning.”

  “You’ve run into a dead end here, too,” the sheriff said irritably. “Only three men have come into town during the last week. Two were hands hired to work on a ranch north of here. They were picked up as soon as they got off the stage. The other is a gentleman who has taken the finest room in the hotel. You might as well question me as him.”

  “What is he like?” Rafe didn’t want to overlook any possible suspect, no matter how unlikely.

  The sheriff fidgeted impatiently. “If you hang around, you’re liable to see him for yourself.”

  “I have to go back to the ranch. The doctor was supposed to see my friend this afternoon.”

  The sheriff huffed. “He’s young—about your age, I’d guess—nice-looking, dresses well, and likes the best of everything.”

  Rafe realized that description could apply to hundreds of men…and also to Laveau di Viere “Does he appear to be of Spanish descent?”

  “Nearly everybody in California does. I didn’t pay attention to that.”

  “Would you mind keeping him under observation for a few days?” the lawyer asked.

  “I’ve got too much to do to spend time watching some young man romancing the ladies.” He directed an angry look at Rafe. “You’ve got hundreds of people working for you. Get one of them to do it.”

  The sheriff’s suggestion was made out of laziness and annoyance, but it was an excellent one. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

  The sheriff clambered to his feet. “If there’s nothing else, I got duties to attend to.”

  “Thank you for coming.” The lawyer was more polite than Rafe would have been. “We’ll let you know if we find anything.”

  “Don’t expect you will. The shooting was an accident. Some kid playing around with a rifle and afraid to tell anybody.”

  Rafe wished Cade were here. The man had an uncanny instinct for things like this. Rafe couldn’t find any logical reason to completely discount the accident theory, but for some reason he couldn’t accept it as the right explanation.

  The lawyer returned to his seat after showing out the sheriff. “He’s not as bad as he seems,” he said.

  “Let’s not waste any more time on the sheriff. I’d like to talk about my father’s will. I don’t want this inheritance, and I don’t want the responsibility for the ranch or for my brother. Tell me how I can get out of it or at least limit my visits to once a year.”

  “You can’t.” The lawyer leaned back in his chair. “Your father made me go over the will several times to make sure there was no way you could get out of having to stay here.”

  It infuriated Rafe that his father would tie him to the ranch with the threat of using the entire fortune to create a memorial to Dolores. “Then go through the will again, line by line. There has to be something you can find.” He needed to get back to Texas before his attraction to Maria turned into a true interest.

  Maria was caught between a desire to stay and enjoy Rafe’s company and the need to hurry Luis off to bed and get herself safely ensconced in her room. The doctor had praised Rafe’s work but ordered Broc not to leave his bed until the next day. Dolores had gone into Cíbola to visit a friend, leaving Rafe, Luis, and Maria to spend the evening together. Maria had expected Rafe to excuse himself as soon as dinner was over. She hadn’t been prepared to spend an enjoyable evening with him.

  He’d started by asking Luis about his studies. For a man who placed little value on formal education, Maria found him remarkably well-informed, with a quick mind that was willing to consider any side of an argument, even those presented by a nine-year-old boy who was so excited by Rafe’s attention that he occasionally betrayed his ignorance. Maria had listened in amazement as Rafe guided him through a discussion so cleverly, Luis believed he’d reached the final answer on his own. Luis was blossoming under Rafe’s encouragement. She had no trouble believing Broc’s assertion that the young soldiers had turned to Rafe for support. He had a way of focusing that made you feel like the most important person in the room. She hoped he was serious about returning to Texas. It was the only way she’d ever get Luis back to normal.

  It annoyed her even more to realize she didn’t want him to go back to Texas.

  “I win.”

  Luis’s exclamation of delight refocused her attention on the mathematical game her two companions were playing. Rafe settled back in his chair, a smile slowly forming
. Luis’s grin of childish glee transformed itself into a question.

  “Did you let me win?”

  Rafe’s expression didn’t change. “Why would I do that?”

  “To make me feel better. I heard you tell Maria I didn’t have confidence.”

  “I don’t know why not. You’re a smart young man.”

  “I can’t ride or shoot like other boys. I can’t play their games. I can’t—”

  “You can’t do everything. No one expects you to.”

  “You can.”

  That was what worried Maria. Luis really thought Rafe could do everything. Luis was leaning forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the table and his legs swinging because they didn’t reach the floor.

  “No one can do everything,” Rafe told him. “You decide what’s important to you and concentrate on that. Someone else will handle the other things. That way we all have something that makes us special.”

  “But I’m not special.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re the only brother I have, so that makes you special. And you’re your aunt Maria’s favorite person. Plus you’re your mother’s only son.”

  “But I can’t do anything.”

  “That’s the nicest thing about being special. You don’t have to do anything to deserve it.”

  Did Rafe really believe that? Maria wondered. In her experience, men wanted to do something concrete, be richer, stronger, meaner than the others. They didn’t put any stock in emotions. They didn’t even like to talk about them.

  “Are you special?”

  “I hope my friends think so.”

  “Do you have lots of friends?”

  “Luis, that’s not a nice thing to ask.”

  When Rafe turned to Maria, the expression on his face made her feel guilty. “Are you afraid I’ll have to admit I don’t have any friends?”

  She tried hard not to blush but doubted she succeeded.

  Rafe turned back to Luis, his expression softening. “I don’t have many friends because I want only friends I can trust.”