Texas Proud (Vincente 2) (35 page)

Winter retained its grip on West Texas, and the
north winds blew almost daily, sweeping across
the plains with frigid air.

Zeb had never had so much attention. He was
recovering in a bedroom at the big house, where
Rachel and Winna Mae saw that he had everything he wanted.

Of course, they didn't make the coffee as strong
as he liked it, but it was drinkable. The custard
pies Winna Mae served him, because they were
his favorite, more than made up for the coffee.

Rachel came downstairs carrying Zeb's lunch
tray. She entered the kitchen to find Winna Mae
kneading bread dough. "There is nothing wrong
with Zeb's appetite. He ate everything."

Winna Mae paused and pushed a lock of gray
hair from her cheek with her arm, taking care not
to get the sticky dough in her hair. "The old fraud
is well enough to get up." Winna Mae laughed.
"But he isn't any trouble. I'm just glad he survived
his wound."

"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.