Texas Proud (Vincente 2) (24 page)

Winna Mae took Rachel's hands and gripped
them tightly. "I only told you about myself so you
would know that love can be beautiful. There are
different kinds of love. There is the love I had for
my husband and son"-she raised her eyes to Rachel--"and there is the love I had for a young girl
who was the age of my son. You became the
daughter I never had, Rachel. My comfort has
been in looking after you. Whit is a fortunate man that I did not cut out his heart last night."

Rachel laid her head against Winna Mae's
shoulder and sobbed while Winna Mae tightened
her arms around her. "Do not cry for me, Rachel.
I have known a love so beautiful that I still carry
it within my heart."

Rachel could only guess what it had cost Winna
Mae to tell her story. "Surely there is something
we can do to find out about your husband and
son."

Winna Mae shook her head. "I found out early
in my search that the army doesn't keep informative records on Indian captives. Their ledgers
would simply say Indian male or Indian female."
Her face showed no emotion as she said, "I accepted long ago that they are both dead."

"There must be some way to find out for sure.
If only we knew someone with enough influence
to ask questions. Noble might be able to help."
Rachel shook her head. "No, he would not have
much influence with the Yankee army."

"They are dead." This pronouncement was delivered in an even voice, but Winna Mae's eyes
held such profound sorrow that it ripped at Rachel's heart.

"I am glad Papa brought you to us. The Broken
Spur will always be your home, Winna Mae."

"I know." She took her apron and dabbed at Rachel's tears. "I also know that you are special, Rachel. One day you will find a love worthy of you. When you find this love, treasure it, whether it
lasts a day, a year or a lifetime."

"But what if the man I love doesn't love me?"

"That too can happen. Life carries no promise,
and nothing is certain."

"How will I know if it's real?"

Winna Mae stood and picked up the tray. "You
will know."

Autumn spread across the land and still no rain
came to break the terrible drought that gripped
West Texas. Because of the intense heat, deep
cracks scarred the land. The persistent winds blew
constantly, whipping the dry dust into a frenzy of
destructive, choking sandstorms. These storms
sometimes lasted for days, blackening the skies,
bringing misery to animal and human alike.

The life-giving Brazos River was getting dangerously low, and in places it had dried up all together. Cattle were dying from thirst; each day
buzzards circled in the sky, keeping their death
watch, waiting to devour some hapless beast who
had fallen prey to the harsh elements.

Rachel and Bud had been scouring the countryside since sunup, looking for a missing bull, Samson, who was the pride of her herd. Samson came
from hardy Mexican stock, and she hoped to use
him to breed a sturdier herd that would adapt to
the harsh West Texas climate.

Now it was early afternoon. Rachel shaded her eyes and gazed at the shadows in the canyon,
where it would be easy for Samson to hide. "Bud,
you search the rim of the canyon and I'll ride
along the river. If you find him, fire your gun
twice I'll do the same."

"Yes, ma'am." Bud touched his hat, spurred his
mount into a lope and disappeared down the ravine.

Rachel rode down a steep incline to the river,
her gaze on the ground, looking for tracks. After
she'd been riding for an hour, she halted her
mount, thinking she heard a noise. There it was
again-the unmistakable bellow of a bull in distress. She spurred her mount along the riverbank
until she spotted the animal.

It was Samson, all right, and he was definitely
in trouble. He'd tried to cross the river and gotten
caught in quicksand. The more the bull struggled,
the more of his body became mired in the quicksand.

Rachel reached for her rope, looped it and
tossed it expertly though the air to lock onto Samson's horns. Wrapping her end of the rope around
the saddle horn, she urged her mount forward.
The horse strained, pulled and slipped, unable to
budge the fear-maddened bull. Samson fought
too, thrashing and being drawn further into the
quicksand.

Rachel jumped off her horse, yanking and pulling on the rope. She had no idea how long she and
her faithful horse fought to save the bull, but the situation looked hopeless. Suddenly the end of the
rope that was wrapped around the saddle horn
snapped, and Rachel grabbed on to the frayed
rope as it slipped through her gloved hands. She
had no time to fire her gun to alert Bud and without the help of her horse she was being drawn
closer and closer to the quicksand.

Stubbornly she fought, digging her heels into
the dry riverbed, while Samson's thrashing drew
her closer to danger. Her hair came loose from the
bandanna and slid across her face, blinding her.

"You've got to help me, Samson." Rachel tossed
her hair to get it out of her face. She gripped the
rope tighter, gritted her teeth and yanked with all
her strength.

She was so involved with trying to save the bull
that it was too late when she realized she was in
serious trouble herself. The rope was wound so
tightly about her hands, and Samson had pulled
it so taut, she couldn't get free. With fierce determination, she dug her heels in, wrestled and
fought against the force that was pulling her
closer to a horrible death. Inch by inch she was
being drawn closer to the deadly mire.

She fell face forward into the mud, and she was
too dazed to react. She knew that the more one
struggled in quicksand, the faster one was sucked
under. She tried to remain calm, but the rope that
held her and Samson together would take her
down with him.

Cold fear overcome her, and she struggled and
fought with renewed strength.

Suddenly she felt another presence. A knife
sliced through the tangled rope that held her captive.

"Be still, Rachel," Noble cautioned. "I'll have
you free in a moment." He pulled the rope from
her hands and lifted her into his arms.

She was free! Her head fell weakly against Noble's shoulder. Then she remembered her bull.
"Samson," she sputtered. "You must help Samson!"

Noble set her down hard on the riverbank, and
she could see by his expression that he was angry.
Even so, he threw a rope over Samson's horns,
then threw a second rope. He quickly wrapped the
first rope around his own saddle horn and the second rope around Rachel's. With the combined
strength of both horses, the troublesome Samson
was soon free.

When Noble removed the ropes, the bull stumbled to his legs and plunged up the bank, into the
thicket.

Then Noble turned to face Rachel, his expression dark and disapproving. "Rachel, why did you
do such a fool thing? What would have happened
to you if I hadn't come along?"

He made her feel like an errant child being
scolded for some misdeed. "I...know it was foolish. I just didn't think about-"

"No," he said, winding his ropes. "That's the trouble with you, Rachel you just don't think.
You go rushing headlong into danger and damn
the consequences."

"Don't talk to me that way. I'm not like that."

"No?"

"No."

She raised her hand to her face and in horror
realized it was caked with mud. "I...thank you
for your help. I don't need you now."

He shook his head. "You need someone to look
after you. It would take a lifetime commitment to
keep you out of trouble, Rachel."

She stood up, brushing mud from her clothing.
"I can take care of myself."

"Si," he said with an indulgent twist to his
mouth. "You proved that today."

When she took a step, her legs trembled. She
was still frightened by what had almost happened,
but she didn't want Noble to know it.

He took her hand and led her down the riverbed
until he came to a place where water had pooled
on a rock. "Wash yourself as best you can. You
don't want to go home like that."

From past encounters she knew that his liquid
brown eyes emitted power the power to entice,
draw, enslave. So she avoided his eyes, wishing
he'd just go away. He'd witnessed her humiliation,
and he was the last man to whom she wanted to
be indebted. "You can just leave now."

He chuckled and led her horse forward. "All
right, Green Eyes."

She bent to wash her face as best she could, but
mud still clung to her eyebrows and lashes.

She heard Noble mount his horse and ride up
the riverbank. "I wanted to meet you here again,
Rachel, but this was not what I had in mind."

She turned around, glaring at him. "Go home,
or I'll ...I'll"

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm
going, I'm going." His eyes sought hers and the
smile left his face.

For a long moment they stared at each other.

His voice was deep with feeling as he said, "I'll
be waiting for you tonight. You know the place."

She watched him ride away, wishing him in
hell, then wishing he hadn't left her.

"Noble, I won't be there tonight," she cried out,
but her protest was carried away by the wind, and
he had already ridden out of sight.

Mud splattered and sore, she mounted her
horse and galloped in the direction of the Broken
Spur. Noble could wait all night, for all she
cared she wouldn't go to him. He'd chosen the
wrong sister this time. She wasn't like Delia.

When she reached the house, she dismounted
and handed the reins of her horse to a startled
Zeb.

"Samson got stuck in quicksand. He's all right
now," she said, hurrying away before he could ask
her to explain.

The sun had gone down hours ago, and everyone
was in bed but Rachel. She sat at the desk, her
head bent over a ledger, trying to concentrate on
the blurred column of figures that danced before
her eyes. At last she closed the book, extinguished
the lamp and decided to go to bed. She walked to
the stairs, turned back and looked at the front
door.

She thought of Noble waiting for her at the
river there was no doubt in her mind that he'd
be there again tonight. She'd tried to push
thoughts of him to the back of her mind, but it
was impossible. He pulled at her, enticing her to
come to him as surely as if he were in the room
with her.

And she wanted to go.

She shook her head, trying to hold on to her
resolve. She felt adrift, removed from reality, yet
she had never felt more alive. Her mind was attuned to the night sounds the constant chirping
of crickets, the occasional hooting of a barn owl
somewhere in the distance. She listened to the
lonesome howl of a wolf and, moments later, the
answer of its mate. She closed her eyes and leaned
against the stair post, digging her fingernails into
the soft wood.

Noble was by the river, waiting for her, just as
the wolf was waiting for its mate.

She hurried to the door, ripped it open and ran
to the barn. Moments later she rode off into the
night in the direction of the river. Her heart was
beating so fast she could hardly breathe. She
didn't know what force was driving her, but there
was no turning back now.

Rachel rode beneath a crystalline sky, and the
rising moon seemed as if it were suspended above
her like a bright, polished ball, drawing her under
its spell. The warmth of the night wind caressed
her cheek. She was set on a path that would take
her to Noble, and nothing was going to stop her.

A jackrabbit jumped in front of her horse, but
she easily controlled the startled mare and continued onward. Fireflies blinked and flitted on the
wind, but she paid no heed. She had only one purpose in mind. She needed Noble. She wanted to
melt into his arms, to be a part of him.

When she reached the riverbank, she slid off her
horse as a shadow detached itself from the darkness.

Noble appeared beside her. He did not touch
her, but just looked down at her for a long moment. "I waited here tonight just as I did the night
of the dance. You didn't come then, and I waited
until dawn."

A sudden breeze rustled the leaves above them
and riffled through his dark hair. Rachel's lower
lip trembled and unwelcome tears gathered in her
eyes. She said in an unsteady voice, "I'm here
now."

He reached for her and she went willingly into
his arms. His hungry lips slid across her face,
nudging her ear, nipping at her lashes and at last
covering her mouth. His arms held her gently at
first and then tighter, more possessively.

Rachel melted into him, feeling the swell of him
against her. It was as if she were a lightning rod
and Noble was the lightning. His magnetism
streaked through her with such intense energy
that it left her weak with longing.

"Rachel, Rachel," Noble murmured against her
lips. "I have dreamed of the moment when you
would freely come to me." His strong arms closed
even tighter about her. "Only you can take away
this emptiness inside me."