Noelle

by Diana Palmer

  Watching her, Jared was amused. She was willing to learn proper manners, but too proud to ask anyone to teach her.

  “What did your father do for a living, Noelle?” he asked abruptly.

  She finished a bite of eggs before she answered. “He was a carpenter.”

  “As your uncle is, I understand.” He looked straight at her. “Why don’t you want to go back to Galveston?” he asked unexpectedly. “Are you afraid of water, Miss Brown? I understand that it was over a year and a half ago that the flood came, and the city fathers are constructing a seawall to prevent overwhelming tides in the future.”

  Galveston. The sea. The flood. Her family… She had thought that the nightmarish memories were behind her for good. But her uncle had insisted that they return to Galveston, where they could live with his half brother and he could do some odd jobs to earn money as the rebuilding of the city continued. Noelle had been very upset at the thought of living in the city where her eyes had been filled with such horrible scenes of death…her family’s death. It made her uneasy to remember, and going back would mean having to face that horror every day of her life, every time she went to shop or to church.

  There had never been anyone to whom she could describe what she’d seen. Even Andrew, whom she found attractive, quickly changed the subject when she wanted to discuss it—almost as if he were squeamish, a war hero who couldn’t talk about a disaster. She had needed to talk about it. She still did. Despite the amount of time that had passed, she could see the faces of her parents, distorted…

  “Miss Brown?” Jared persisted. “It couldn’t be the flood that disturbs you, after so long a time. Do you have some hidden reason for not wanting to return to Galveston? Are you in trouble of some kind?”

  Mrs. Dunn started to speak, but a quick wave of Jared’s hand stopped her. His intent pale blue eyes bit into Noelle’s as mercilessly as if he’d been in a courtroom. “Answer me,” he said evenly. “What do you have to hide? What is it about Galveston that made you fling yourself on the mercy of a distant relative rather than return there?”

  She glared at Jared. “You make me sound like a criminal,” she said accusingly.

  He leaned back in his chair and watched her with cold, calculating eyes. “Not at all. I just want to know why you’re content to live on my charity, rather than keeping house for your elderly uncle who, presumably, is going to suffer without your support.”

  She felt her face heat with bad temper. She gripped the napkin tight in her lap and fought an urge to throw a glass of water over him. Why, the smug, sanctimonious reprobate! Who did he think he was?

  She got to her feet, almost shaking with temper. “My uncle has a brother in Galveston who is married and has six daughters. I assure you, he won’t suffer from lack of attention. And if my presence here is so offensive to you, if you feel that I do nothing to earn my keep, then I’m quite content to leave!”

  Tears stung her eyes. Jared’s accusations seemed to suffocate her as much as the nightmarish memories of Galveston. She flung the napkin on the table and lifted her skirts as she ran for the back porch.

  It had been a long time since she’d cried. But Jared had infuriated her and cost her the control over her emotions that she prided herself on. She wept brokenly, so that it left her shaking, with tears running down her cheeks. She gripped the porch railing hard, trying to sniff back the wetness that threatened to escape her nose, feeling the rain mist in her face, hearing the ping of the droplets on the tin roof while she drowned in her own misery. She’d burned her bridges. She would have no place to go! Well, she wouldn’t go back to Galveston, even so. They couldn’t force her to—

  “Here.”

  She started as a lean, darkly tanned hand passed her an immaculate white linen handkerchief. She held it to her mouth and then her cheeks and eyes. “Thank you,” she said gruffly.

  “My grandmother told me that you lost your entire family in the flood. I didn’t know that. And I didn’t realize that you were still so affected by it.”

  She peeked up at him over the handkerchief and found an odd compassion in his eyes, replacing his earlier mockery. “Neither did I,” she confessed.

  He knew about bad memories. He had enough of his own. “I’ve never been to Galveston,” he continued conversationally, “but I spoke with several people who were there just days after the flood. You saw your parents, afterward, didn’t you?” he added, because it was the only thing that made sense of her strong reaction to any discussion of the flood.

  She nodded and tried to turn away.

  He took her firmly by the upper arms and turned her back to face him. His narrow, insistent blue eyes bored into hers, so close that they filled the world, so intense that they made it impossible for her to move.

  “Don’t hold it inside. Tell me,” he said firmly. “Tell me everything you remember.”

  She was compelled to answer, needed to answer. The memories tumbled helplessly out of her mouth, and she couldn’t stop them. It was such a relief to speak of it, at last, to someone who would listen.

  “They didn’t look human,” she whispered. She dabbed at her nose, wincing at the memory. “They were piled up, row upon row upon row of bodies, some so horrible…” She swallowed. “I felt so guilty, you see. I was in Victoria with Uncle. If I had been at home, I would have died with them. We went to town on Saturday, every Saturday, to shop. They would have been in town when it happened,” she told him, “my parents and my four brothers. It was midmorning and the flood came unexpectedly. They said a wall of water covered the entire city, drowning everyone in its path. They wouldn’t have known what happened…or so I was told. Over five thousand people died there in a space of minutes. Minutes!” She stopped to hold the cloth out in the rain, wetting it. Then she patted her face with the cool cloth and paused to choke down the nausea. “They were laid out on the street, and not together. At least they were found…in time… So that they could still be…identified.” Tears were hot in her eyes as she remembered the sight of her beloved family like that. She pressed the handkerchief to her mouth.

  He frowned slightly as he studied her drawn, tearstained face. He’d seen death so often in his younger days that it didn’t really disturb him very much. His mother had slipped from life very peacefully, holding his hand. But Galveston had been a nightmare of corpses, they said, more than men saw even during wartime. He could only imagine how it would have been for a sensitive young woman to see her entire family lying dead on the street. Drowning victims of that sort were a nightmarish sight. It would have been even worse a few days later, as people had to be forced to gather the decomposing corpses…

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and jingled his loose change as he watched her cope with her outpouring of emotion. He sensed that it was unusual for her to give in to tears, especially in front of strangers. He didn’t touch her. Some part of him wanted to, but he wouldn’t have appreciated a stranger’s attempt at comfort and he didn’t think she would, either.

  She got herself back in control at last and wiped the traces of moisture from her eyes. They were red now, like her straight nose and her cheeks. “My uncle’s insistence on returning to Galveston resurrected all the memories. I thought that I’d put it behind me, but I was never able to talk about it. I thought Andrew would be the one person who could let me pour it all out, since he was in the war…but he wouldn’t listen to me. He actually seemed to go pale when I mentioned it. Of course, I must have imagined that.”

  He knew that she hadn’t. Andrew had never seen raw death, Jared was certain of it, and the young man had a squeamish stomach. “Go on,” he coaxed.

  The sound of the rain grew insistent on the roof. She sighed. “So there was no one else to tell. You accused me of running from something. You were right. I would rather die than go back to live in that city, with the memories of all the faces, the pitiful faces.” She s
topped. “I’m sorry,” she said huskily.

  “No, I’m sorry,” he replied at once. “I made some cruel remarks. My only excuse is that I didn’t know your entire family had died in the flood.”

  The apology was unexpected. She lifted her eyes to his and searched them. “My uncle was down with his back when the flood came. I had gone up to Victoria to keep house and wait on him several weeks before the flood came. I would have gone home the following Monday. I felt so guilty that I hadn’t been with my family when they died.”

  “That was God’s decision, surely?” he replied solemnly.

  “You mean, that He spared me for a reason?”

  He nodded.

  She considered that silently. Her grief had made all her memories painful. He had forced her to face them, to face divine purposes as well. “Thank you for listening to me. Most people don’t like to hear of such horror.” She managed a faint smile for him. “And city men as a rule have no stomach at all for unpleasantness.” She frowned as she searched his eyes shyly. “It…did not disturb you too much, what I said?”

  He had to stifle laughter. “No,” he said simply.

  The twinkle in his eyes puzzled her. “I’m glad. Thank you for listening.”

  “Life goes on,” he reminded her. “We do what we must.”

  “Have you lost someone you loved?” she asked curiously.

  His face closed up. “Most people have.”

  He wouldn’t talk about himself. She hadn’t really expected it to be otherwise. He seemed very reticent, and he was an attorney, which meant that he had to be intelligent as well. She blew her nose on the cloth and gave in to the exhaustion that followed her outburst. “You’ve been kind,” she said reluctantly. She grimaced. “I’m…sorry that I was antagonistic. It was being told that I was living on charity—”

  “Oh, hell,” he said irritably. “I didn’t mean it.”

  She glanced at him. “You shouldn’t curse.”

  He laughed. “It’s my house,” he pointed out. “I can curse if I like.”

  She started to argue, but thought better of it.

  “My grandmother says that you do more than enough to earn your keep. Stay as long as you like. I must confess that I shouldn’t enjoy living in Galveston, even though I didn’t lose anyone in the flood.”

  “Andrew was afraid that you wouldn’t want me here. He told me that you would probably make me leave. I suppose I was anticipating it when you arrived. It made me hostile toward you.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “My stepbrother knows very little about me,” he pointed out. “He was a boy when I left home, and my visits have been infrequent.”

  “Andrew was good to me, although I realize that he brought me here without your permission. When he learned about my circumstances, he insisted,” she said, and her green eyes softened. “He’s quite dashing and very brave, and he impressed my uncle greatly.” She looked nervously at him. “He said that I could be a great help to your grandmother as a companion, to earn my keep. I have done my best to ease her path, and I’ve been helping Andrew with his correspondence and paperwork in the evenings. I can use a typewriter and a Dictaphone. Andrew taught me how.”

  He was getting an interesting picture of his stepbrother’s benevolence. It wasn’t flattering to Andrew. Apparently Noelle was working for him as an unpaid secretary, in addition to running his grandmother’s errands. No doubt she was earning her keep, but it was Jared, not Andrew, who was paying the bills.

  He frowned as the dampness on the porch began to make his leg ache. His hand was gripping the cane hard, and he grimaced as he used it to prop his sore leg.

  “I’m sorry for the remarks I made about your handicap,” she added unexpectedly, nodding toward his injured appendage.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m not touchy about it,” he said.

  “How did it happen?” she asked, without thinking.

  “Would you believe that a horse threw me?” he drawled. It wasn’t the truth, but he wasn’t ready to impart that to anyone in the household just yet.

  “Yes, of course,” she said. “The cane makes you look distinguished,” she added helpfully.

  “Distinguished, or ancient?” he taunted.

  “Mummies are ancient, not people,” she argued.

  His lips turned up briefly. “Comforting, Miss Brown. Very comforting.”

  An awkward silence fell over them while the rain increased its rhythmic pounding on the tin roof. “I must go and see if Mrs. Dunn needs anything. Thank you again,” she said sincerely.

  “I had no intention of throwing you out on one day’s acquaintance,” he said before she left. “Andrew misjudged me. I’d do almost anything for my grandmother’s comfort. Any service you do her will please me.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, then.” She continued on her way, ruffled but a little more at ease with him.

  * * *

  LATER, WHEN SHE told Mrs. Dunn about the unexpected compassion from Jared Dunn, the older woman was visibly surprised.

  “Jared is a hard man,” Mrs. Dunn said. “He hasn’t had an easy life, and there’s a shell around him that no one in recent years has been able to breach. He cares for me, in his fashion, but he doesn’t like most people. He can be dangerous, and he makes a formidable adversary, especially in a court of law.”

  “I hope that he never becomes mine,” Noelle said, with feeling.

  Mrs. Dunn smiled at the very thought. “That’s hardly likely, my dear.”

  * * *

  ANDREW ARRIVED BACK at the house that evening, in a hired carriage with a driver to bring in his two bags and trunk. Noelle’s face lit up like a Christmas candle when she saw him, and she almost jumped out of her chair when he walked into the living room. But it was Mrs. Dunn, not Noelle, that he went to first. Noelle’s face fell. Jared, watching, found her adoration of his stepbrother oddly irritating.

  “Grandmother, how wonderful to see you!” Andrew enthused as he embraced her. “I’ve been to Galveston and Victoria and even to Houston. I brought you a Paris hat—green velvet and feathers and fur. You’ll love it! And, Noelle, I found a pretty little pearl pin for you—” He stopped as Jared moved into the lamplight. “Jared! Why…how nice to see you.”

  “And you, Andrew,” Jared said, with a cool smile. “You look well.”

  Indeed he did, in his fashionable suit and tie and hand-tooled lace-up shoes and bowler hat. Andrew was as tall as Jared, but a little less streamlined. He had a curling blond mustache that matched his shock of blond hair, with even features and dark eyes that twinkled. He was the epitome of a dashing ex-soldier, and women loved him. Noelle was no exception. Her face was flushed and eyes were bright with excitement as she greeted him.

  “It’s lovely to have you back again, Andrew,” Noelle said breathlessly.

  “It’s nice to be back.” He chuckled, reaching down to grasp her small hand and kiss it lazily. Her flush delighted him.

  Jared could only imagine how he measured up against the younger man, with his gimpy leg and his lined face. But he wasn’t jealous of Andrew, who had the nature of a friendly puppy coupled with the shrewd craftiness of a coyote. He did know never to turn his back on the younger man, or trust him very far. Those were lessons that Noelle very obviously hadn’t learned yet. She looked like a ripe little peach hanging over a hungry boy’s head, and that continental bit of hand-kissing had flustered her visibly.

  “How long are you staying, Jared?” Andrew asked, moving away from Noelle.

  “For a long time. I’m moving my law practice down here from New York,” Jared replied, smiling at the shocked response. “This is my house, Andrew,” he added pointedly—in a tone that brooked no protests.

  “Yes, of course it is. And you’re always welcome here,” Andrew said quickly. He laughed. The sound was nervous
and too high. “I shall have to look to my laurels with such a famous trial lawyer around, drawing the attention of the ladies!”

  Jared leaned heavily on the cane. “I have no interest in such attention, I assure you,” he said coldly, and his eyes flashed. “My prime interest is the practice of law.”

  “I say, Jared, what happened to your leg?” he asked suddenly when his stepbrother moved forward and sank down into a wing chair by the empty fireplace.

  “An accident,” Jared said firmly.

  “I’m sorry. Will it heal?”

  “Andrew, what a thoughtless question,” Mrs. Dunn chided. “Do sit down, dear boy, and tell us about your trip.”

  “Oh, yes, do!” Noelle enthused.

  He dropped elegantly to the sofa beside Mrs. Dunn and patted her hand affectionately. “I had a successful tour,” he said. “I met with some representatives of our sister company in Houston and I sold tons of bricks to businesses in Victoria. Perhaps soon there will be a market in Galveston. Progress on the seawall is moving along quite rapidly. Once finished, it certainly should forestall any further invasions of the sea. Forgive me, Noelle,” he added quickly.

  She nodded and smiled. “It’s all right, Andrew,” she said in a husky, soft tone. And surprisingly, it was. Talking her grief out to Jared had made it bearable.

  Andrew smiled his relief and plunged into the subject of the new construction, with the two women giving him their full attention. Jared just sat and listened. Andrew was smug and far too arrogant, but that didn’t seem to bother Noelle, who hung on his every word as if he were dispensing holy law. It made him irritable, and after a short time, he excused himself and went to bed.

  “How long has he been here?” Andrew asked Mrs. Dunn when Jared was safely upstairs.