Texas Proud (Vincente 2) (36 page)

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 footsteps 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."

Rachel's heart beat wildly with fear. "You killed
my father!"

"Yes, I did that too," he admitted. "I'd come to
call on Delia that day. Neither she nor your father
knew that I overheard them talking about the
baby. It was a hot day and the windows were open.
I stood on the porch and listened to every word.
I'd always hated Noble, but nothing like the hatred
I felt for him that day. I slipped away and waited
for your pa to cross the river."

"But how did you get Noble's gun?"

Whit seemed willing to tell her everything, and she knew then that he'd never let her leave the
river alive. She had to keep him talking, and hope
help would come.

"That was the easy part. I followed your father
to Casa del Sol, hung back in the bushes and listened to him talk to Noble. I had it in mind to kill
Noble, but another plan came from their talk. Of
course our golden boy denied ever being with Delia, and your father, like a gullible old fool, believed him."

Rachel's fear gave way to rage, but she had to
control it for now. She took a deep breath and
asked, "How did you plant Noble's gun beside my
father's body?"

"That was the brilliant part. Noble had laid his
holster aside while he'd been talking to your father. When both men left, Noble forgot to take his
gun. I helped myself to it and followed your father.
You can guess the rest. Your father never knew
who shot him. It was a clean shot right through
the heart. I dropped Noble's gun beside his body
and simply rode away."

Nausea coiled inside her stomach like a slithering snake. "You are a monster." Tears stung Rachel's eyes and clung to her lashes. "How could
you kill my father? He never harmed you."

"I wanted Delia, and that was the only way I
could have her. She needed a father for her baby,
and I was willing to take her any way I could get
her. I was glad when she lost the Spaniard's brat, though. I didn't relish raising another man's child.
Especially not Noble's."

"Delia didn't love you."

"No, she loved the golden boy, the Spaniard. But
she didn't get him, did she?"

Rachel struggled and fought to get away from
him, but he was too strong for her. She tried to
ignore her growing panic. She needed to keep him
talking. "Was it you who locked me in the barn
and started the fire?"

Whit smiled. "How clever of you to figure that
out." His eyes hardened and his jaw went slack. "I
hired those fools, Harvey and Red, to get rid of
you, but they mishandled everything. Red was
supposed to get rid of Noble, but he failed in that
too." He blinked his eyes and grinned. "Red did
me the favor of shooting Harvey so he wouldn't
talk, and I shot Red for the same reason." He
laughed, but the sound was without humor. "No
one will ever suspect me of the deaths." His hand
slid to Rachel's slender neck. "And no one will
blame me for your death, either. I am clever, don't
you think?"

"You're a monster."

A shot rang out, and Whit was so startled that
he loosened his hold on Rachel long enough for
her to twist out of his arms. Delia stepped from
behind the trunk of a cottonwood tree, her gun
trained on Whit.

"You killed my father and now you threaten my
sister." Delia was crying, but her hand was steady and her aim did not move from Whit's chest. "I
won't let you hurt Rachel."

"Sweetheart," Whit said in a silken voice. "I did
it all because I love you."

"Don't take another step, Whit. I knew you were
ambitious and unscrupulous, but I never thought
you were a monster." Delia shuddered, thinking
of his hands on her after he'd killed her father.
"You are going to confess everything to Sheriff
Crenshaw."

"Delia, think about what you're saying. We have
a future in this state. You aren't going to throw it
away now. If Rachel were out of the way, you
would inherit the Broken Spur, and I'll one day be
governor. We could have everything."

"Do you actually think I'd hurt my own sister?
You are mad, Whit. I won't rest until I see you
hang for my father's death."

He took another step toward her. "Give me the
gun, Delia. You know you'll never use it."

"Won't IT' A river of tears streamed down her
face. "I'm sorry, Rachel, that I ever exposed you
to a man like Whit. I swear to you that I never
knew that he..." She wiped blinding tears from
her eyes. "I watched you ride away, and then I saw
Whit following you at a distance. Suddenly everything came together in my mind. It was as if I
knew all the time, but didn't want to believe it. I
knew Whit was going to try to kill you, so I got a
gun and followed him. I'm glad I did."

Whit was inching ever closer to Delia. "Your sis ter's no better than a harlot, lifting her skirt for
Noble just like you did. I saw her with my own
eyes."

Delia shook her head. "I was never with Noble,
Whit. The baby I carried in my body-the baby
you made me get rid of was your brother's
baby. Your sod-busting, dirt-under-his-fingernails
brother. I didn't mean for it to happen; it just did.
I didn't want to marry Frank, so I could never tell
anyone that he'd fathered my baby not even
Frank."

Whit let out a furious yell and lunged for Delia.
She closed her eyes, waited for the impact and
pulled the trigger.

Rachel watched trancelike as Whit's knees
buckled and he crumpled to the ground, his chest
gushing blood. He held his hand out to Delia,
clutched the hem of her gown and raised his head
to her.

"I... did love you, Deli-" His hand slipped
from her gown and his body twitched as he drew
his last breath.

For a long moment there was only silence. Then
Delia glanced at her sister. "I had to do it, Rachel.
He killed Papa, and he would have killed you." She
stood unblinking, averting her gaze from her dead
husband. "God forgive me. I had to do it."

Rachel ran to her sister and took her in her
arms. "I know you had to do it, Delia. It will be all
right. Everything will be all right now." Rachel pried the gun from her sister's stiff fingers and led
her toward the horses.

"It's all over now; Papa's killer is dead," Delia
said in a daze. "Why did he kill Papa?" she asked,
looking puzzled. "Why?"

"I don't know." Rachel hugged her sister's trembling body. She feared it would be a long time
before Delia recovered from this day.

"Delia, I was the one who vowed at Papa's grave
to avenge his death. But you are the daughter who
kept that promise. Papa would be proud of you."

"Would he?"

"Yes, very proud. Come, let's go home now."

Word swept through Texas about the tragedy that
had happened by the Brazos River. Delia didn't
have to go to trial, due to the circumstances, and
because of Sheriff Crenshaw's compassion. She
vowed never to return to Austin, to a life that had
not made her happy.

Noble had been beside Rachel and Delia
through the whole ordeal. Rachel suspected that
he had a lot to do with the kindness their neighbors showered on Delia.

Since the tragedy, Delia kept to her room a lot.
Surprisingly enough, Winna Mae took care of her,
and finally convinced her to turn away from the
past and start to live again. Delia never drank spirits now. Rachel suspected it had been Whit who
had encouraged her to drink in the first place.