Texas Proud (Vincente 2) (5 page)

"As I recall, Noble liked you. He always singled
you out and showed marked attention toward
you," Delia countered pettishly. "He even had a
pet name for you." She bit her lip, trying to remember, and then sighed. "I've forgotten what he
called you."

Rachel closed her eyes and tried to keep her
thoughts from going back to a time when she'd
adored Noble. He had called her Green Eyes. She
didn't want to admit that she'd once been among
the hordes of females who'd fallen victim to Noble's formidable charm. She'd been only sixteen
the summer she'd first thought of him as a man.
She had buried those memories deep, unwilling
to examine them too closely. All she wanted to remember was that he'd impregnated her sister, deserted her, and killed their father.

Delia's voice fell to a whisper. "You seem to forget that Noble was never convicted of Papa's murder."

"Did you expect that he would be? People like the Vincentes don't hang or go to prison for killing
a small rancher. But Papa has a lot of friends, and
they would have lynched Noble if he hadn't run
away like a coward."

Delia caught and held Rachel's gaze. "There are
things that you don't know about, so don't go
rushing off and doing something foolish. Just
leave Noble to me."

"If you really thought he was innocent, you'd
have spoken up long before now. You know only
what your heart tells you to believe." Rachel's
voice grew cutting. "As ironic as it sounds, Delia,
you are probably Noble's only friend."

Her sister shrugged. "He was kinder to me than
you will ever know. Even after... after-"

"Of course he was kind to you it got him what
he wanted from you, didn't it? Thank God Whit
loved you enough to cover for Noble's little mistake."

"Love was not a consideration when Whit married me. But we're alike, Whit and I," Delia added
forcefully. "We're both ambitious and we'll do
anything to get what we want." Her expression
suddenly grew sad and she said softly, "Rachel,
there must be justice in the world, because I
wanted children so badly and have never been
able to conceive since I lost the baby."

"You may still have children," Rachel said gently. "Just be patient a little longer."

"You don't understand. Whit says we don't need
children. He says Texas will be our child."

Disgust rose within Rachel like bile. "Sounds
like a match made in hell." She opened the door
and glanced back at her sister. "Don't get in my
way, Delia. I intend to destroy Noble Vincente,
and I'll do it you know I will."

"You're just like Papa," Delia warned. "And you
know what happened to him. If you aren't careful,
you'll end up dead too!"

"I'm not afraid of Noble Vincente."

"No?" Delia laughed sardonically. "Maybe you
should be."

Rachel grew weary of the conversation. There
was no reasoning with Delia on the subject of Noble because she was still in love with him. "Take
this for the truth-no one is more dedicated to
Noble's downfall than I am!"

Delia's quick retort was laced with malice.
"Take heed that Noble doesn't cause your downfall. Beware that you don't fall victim to his
charms, as I did." She moved closer to Rachel, her
eyes suddenly soft. "Noble is like the Texas wind
that soars above us all. You cannot hold the wind
in your hand any more than you can hold Noble."

Rachel grasped the doorknob. She had to escape; the room was stifling and smelled strongly
of the rose fragrance Delia always wore. "I'll bring
him down," she muttered to herself, and took the
stairs two at a time, hurrying out the front door.
"Somehow, some way, I'll make him pay for what
he did to Papa."

Delia pressed a quick kiss on Rachel's cheek before she climbed into her private coach and settled
back into the plush softness of the leather seat.
"Think more on Whit's offer to buy Broken Spur."

"There is nothing to think about. My answer
will always be the same." Rachel stepped back.
"Have a safe journey, and write me." She watched
the brown-and-yellow coach jolt into motion, and
waved until it was out of sight. Then, with relief,
she went to the barn, saddled Faro, and rode toward the Brazos River.

After riding for an hour, she reined in her
mount and watched the way golden sunlight
vaulted across the clear blue sky. Her gaze moved
to the buffalo grass that was perpetually stirred by the relentless, blistering wind. She loved this land
because, to her, it represented her father. She
could never sell to anyone, not even Delia and
Whit.

She hadn't intended to ride toward Casa del Sol.
Her instinct just seemed to guide her in that direction. For a time, she galloped parallel to the
Brazos River, which was the border between the
Broken Spur and Casa del Sol. Both ranches had
benefited from the Brazos's bounty in the past, but
this year the water was low from lack of rain. In
places it was so shallow that she could ride across
without wetting her horse's girth.

Without thinking, she plunged Faro into the
mud-colored river and rode up the bank to the
other side. Her mind took her to a place of reveries. Her reflections were of dark, flashing eyesthe eyes of a killer, Noble Vincente's eyes.

He'd dominated her thoughts since his return
to Texas. Just like now, when a memory out of the
past flowed through Rachel's mind even though
she fought vainly to suppress it. She didn't want
to remember how she'd once adored Noble. But
the memories would not be denied. She could almost hear his teasing voice calling her Green
Eyes.

Although Noble was only half Spanish, his
mother being from an old and respected Southern
family, his complexion was dark like his father's,
and he chose to wear the traditional Spanish attire, as had his father. When Rachel thought of Noble, he was always wearing black leather with
silver trim. Just as he had that day his image had
been stamped forever in her memory.

Rachel's attention was yanked back to the present when a jackrabbit jumped in front of her,
causing Faro to rear. With a firm hand on the
reins and soothing words, she calmed her horse.

Again the unwelcome past invited itself into Rachel's thoughts. She was being drawn back,
against her will, through the curve of time. She
remembered the day she had accompanied her father to Casa del Sol to buy a breeding bull from
Don Reinaldo Vincente. She'd been sixteen at the
time and as vulnerable to Noble's charms as any
woman in Madragon County.

When they'd arrived at the Vincente ranch, her
father had driven the wagon to the corrals, where
several of the vaqueros had been breaking horses.

Happily, she had scampered out of the wagon
while her father had conversed with Don Reinaldo. She'd hurried to the corral and hooked the
heel of her boot in the fence, hoisting herself up
to watch. She recalled her father smiling indulgently at her; he never berated her or objected to
her wearing britches and boots and riding astride
like a man. He'd prided himself on the fact that
his youngest daughter could stand toe-to-toe with
any man and beat him at his own game.

Rachel's mind had opened up, and she was
flooded by more memories. As she rode beneath
the scorching Texas sun toward her destination, she visualized that day so long ago when Noble
first unleashed emotions that had awakened her
virginal body. Her thoughts tumbled, spinning out
of control, backward in time....

Sam Rutledge conversed with Don Reinaldo while
sixteen-year-old Rachel watched a vaquero trying
to slide a leather halter over the head of a spirited
black mare. To her surprise Noble came from the
stable, his silver spurs jingling with every step he
took. He propped his booted foot on the fence,
tightened the strap of his spurs and then gave the
silver spike a spin. He nodded to the vaquero, who
was gripping the waiting mare's ears and holding
her firm. Then, with catlike grace, Noble bounded
onto the back of the exquisite animal, whose coat
shone like polished ebony.

For a moment, man and beast stood perfectly
still, but Rachel knew what was to come. The
mare's ears were laid back in defiance; she was
wild, untamed and ready to challenge the man
who would try to master her.

With a suddenness that startled Rachel, the
horse took a tremendous leap toward the sky,
carrying Noble with her. The defiant mare resisted
gravity and bounded upward again and again. She
spun and bucked in an attempt to dislodge the
man on her back. Yet Noble's muscled legs hugged
the horse's heaving sides, and he refused to be unseated.

He was power and grace, indomitable. Rachel's heart pounded with excitement while the vaqueros yelled out their approval. She held her breath
when the horse reared, kicked, twisted and
turned, but still was unable to throw Noble. Time
had no meaning as she watched him master the
horse. His firm brown hands held the reins steady,
his long legs issuing their own commands. Rachel
felt glad that he used his spurs sparingly, knowing
just how much pressure to apply without breaking
the beautiful animal's skin.

At last the mare halted, her sides lathered and
heaving, her graceful head bowed as if in surrender to the man who had conquered her. But she
remained spirited even in defeat.

While the vaqueros shouted out their praise,
Noble seemed as calm as if he'd been on a pleasure
outing. His composure impressed Rachel more
than anything else.

Seeing her, he rode over to the fence on the now
docile mare. Noble stood up in the stirrups and
swept her a bow, saying, "Senorita Green Eyes,
you are growing up to be a beauty. With those eyes
you will surely break every man's heart in Madragon County, including my own."

His smile made her heart skip a beat in fact it
skipped several beats-and she struggled to regain her composure. When his electrifying gaze
settled on her, Rachel tightened her grip on the
fence post to keep her balance.

"Noble, you were magnificent," she said timidly, wondering why she should suddenly feel so shy
with a man she'd known all her life.

He reached out and gently touched her cheek.
"Careful, Green Eyes; you should never look at a
man like that."

She was confused as she shoved his hand away.
"I don't know what you mean."

"Do you not? There is fire in your eyes that
would stagger the strongest man."

Her face flushed and she tried to hide her embarrassment by saying flippantly, "That's not so,
Noble Vincente." She groped for words. "I was
merely admiring your horsemanship. I have never
seen such a mare what breed is she?"

He laughed and dismounted, tossing the reins
to a vaquero. "I won't tease you anymore, Green
Eyes. My throat is dry. Walk with me to the well
and I will tell you all about the black mare."

She accompanied him reluctantly, wishing that
her heart would stop fluttering. A new sensation
tightened the muscles in the pit of her stomach
and left her feeling breathless, a sensation that she
didn't like at all.

"You said you would tell me about the horse,"
she reminded him. She pressed her palm against
her heart because it was beating so fiercely she
feared he could hear it.

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. "All right, inquisitive one. The mare was bred by Carthusian
monks at a mountainous monastery in southwestern Spain."

"Noble, I have never seen a horse with such a
shiny black coat. She has such strong leg muscles
and must be over fifteen hands high. You may
have broken her to the saddle, but you didn't
break her spirit."

"I would not want to break her spirit," Noble
said with a meaningful smile. "Neither a horse nor
a woman should ever have her spirit broken."

Rachel tossed her head and gave him an impetuous glance. "How like you to compare a woman
to a horse. That mare should have thrown you."

He gave her a look that sent her foolish heart
reeling. "Perhaps. And yet I broke her to my will.
From now on, the mare will be a gentle mount."

"I saw very little gentleness in her."

He smiled, flashing strong, white teeth. "She
merely had to learn who is her master. Is this not
so with all females? Is it not so of you?"

Before Rachel could retort, Noble raised his
hands in surrender. "A man should never tease a
woman who has hair the color of flame, and the
temper to match. Am I forgiven?"

His tone was deep and compelling, and she felt
it echo through her head. She nervously intertwined her fingers, clasping them so tighdy that
her knuckles whitened, so she held them behind
her. Everything seemed to take on a new significance. She stared at the ground, where his shadow
loomed above hers, until he moved, making it appear as if his shadow consumed hers. "Are you comparing me to a mare?" she asked, at last finding her voice.

He took her hand and placed it against his
heart. "You, my little beauty, are incomparable."

She jerked her hand away as if burned. Why was
she behaving so oddly? she wondered frantically.