by Diana Palmer
“When the Spanish-American War broke out, I reenlisted,” he continued, “but I only served in Cuba, briefly, taking leave from my law practice in New York.”
“That man at the depot said you were a captain in the Rangers,” she added. “You must have been very good at your job to achieve such a high rank.”
He nodded. “I had nothing to live for and nothing to lose,” he reminded her. “I had an innocent cowboy’s death on my conscience and a woman’s betrayal. I suppose in a way I courted death. It made me fearless.”
“Is that how you felt today, Jared?” she asked
gently. “As if you had nothing to lose?”
He lowered his eyes to her mouth. “Yes,” he said honestly. He looked back up and grimaced at her expression. “Noelle, I thought that you loved Andrew. I’d convinced myself that he came back for you. Without you, I had nothing to lose, nothing at all. Or so I thought.” He searched her eyes with wonder. “I didn’t know that you loved me. I never dreamed that you could.”
She managed a faint smile. “You still seem to have trouble believing it.”
“You’re a gentlewoman,” he replied solemnly. “You’ve never known violence of the sort you saw today. But I lived with that kind of violence most of my life. Even in a court of law. I told you about the fight in Terrell, New Mexico Territory, over a court case, Noelle,” he added. “I told you that I shot the man, but I didn’t tell you that it was in a gunfight.”
Her breath caught. She stared at him with returning horror. He could have been killed!
He caught her hand and pressed it hard against his chest. “There have been other incidents over the years,” he said. “Not many. We live in an increasingly civilized world. But there are still wild places and men who grew up settling their arguments with hot lead. Until all the old-timers are gone, there’ll always be the threat of violence out here in the West. You saw how Garmon behaved today. I’ve known dozens like him—men who are basically bullies and think they’re still living twenty years in the past, when they could live by no rules at all.”
She bit her lower lip hard. “I’m no coward, you know that,” she said. “But if I lost you now, I’d die, Jared.”
He sat up and pulled her against him hungrily, wrapping her tight in his arms. He looked down at her possessively. “As I would, without you,” he said huskily, and meant every word. “I’ll take no more cases out of state. And I swear to you, there’ll be no more gunplay.”
She nuzzled her face into his throat, clinging. “You never give your word lightly,” she whispered.
“No.”
Her soft lips touched his throat. “Will it be very hard for you, having a wife and a family?”
He chuckled. “No. I don’t think…” His powerful body stilled. He touched her hair hesitantly. “A…family?”
She nodded.
He seemed not to breathe for a minute. His hand pressed her face closer. “Are you with child?” he whispered.
She smiled into his throat. “I don’t know. It’s much too soon to tell, after only a few days. But it’s very possible. I can’t face breakfast and I’ve been sick two mornings. And I don’t think it’s from anything I’ve eaten.” She laughed shyly. “Mrs. Pate noticed and said that some women become sick from the very day they conceive.”
His heart was hammering. There might be a child. A child. His eyes closed and he shuddered with the most incredible pleasure at the thought of it. His arms contracted protectively.
“It’s too soon to tell for sure,” she added. “But…oh, I hope, Jared. I hope!”
He caught his breath. “My darling!” he whispered breathlessly.
There was hardly any need to ask if he was pleased. She closed her eyes and lay quietly against him, smiling. There was so much to look forward to now. And just when she had counted it all lost.
A little later, he kissed her soft eyelids. “What a blissful end to a day that started in such anguish,” he whispered. “Come. Let’s go and tell the others that you’re staying.”
He helped her to her feet. He picked up her scattered hairpins and handed them to her with a rueful smile.
She laughed. Once, it would have embarrassed her to have been seen in such a disheveled condition. “We’re married,” she whispered wickedly, “and we’ve only just made up after a frightful argument. They won’t be surprised.”
He pursed his lips. “Not if we keep the whole truth from them,” he said, smiling.
She laughed. The love in her eyes almost blinded him. He took her hand and they went out the door together.
* * *
NO ONE WAS surprised. Noelle was such a part of the family already that the shock had been her announcement that she was going back to Galveston. Supper was a gay and happy meal, a celebration. And every time Jared looked at her, he loved her. The older women glanced from one to the other with covert amusement. They were so obvious about the way they felt that no one could mistake it. Besides, Noelle had lost her breakfast. Christening clothes would have to be sewn and appropriate furniture purchased. What a lot they had to look forward to!
* * *
NOELLE SLIPPED AWAY from the kitchen after the meal long enough to go into the garden while there was still light. Minutes later, with her apron clutched in both hands, she ran back into the house, her eyes glowing.
“Look!” she announced to the family.
In her apron were four tiny pinkish-colored tomatoes of perfect shape and form.
Jared only smiled. His pale eyes went quietly to her waistline and he was thinking of another sort of fruit. It was no longer a trial to think of himself as a family man. In fact, it was an event that he would welcome.
Noelle read that thought in his face. She laughed, the tomatoes forgotten. She could see the future in his eyes, and it was bright and beautiful.
* * *
MONTHS LATER, CHRISTMAS morning came with a sprinkling of snow, while a blossoming Noelle lay in Jared’s arms and savored their warmth. Andrew and his lovely Miss Beale had been married a week ago, and Terrance Beale was a frequent guest of Jared’s now that the two families were merging. Noelle liked the older man, seeing in him a man very much like her own beloved husband.
“Happy birthday,” Jared whispered, interrupting her thoughts, and produced a small package from the drawer of the bedside table. He placed it in her hands and lay back to watch her open it.
Inside was a tiny angel, made of pure gold. She caught her breath at its beauty.
“That is you,” he said teasingly, but the look in his pale eyes wasn’t humorous—it was rapt and full of love. “It’s what you are to me, what you always will be. My own angel.”
She cried easily of late, due to her condition. But these tears were of joy, because she had never dreamed of so much happiness. She bent, her long hair falling around her shoulders, and kissed him reverently.
“I’ll keep it for our son,” she whispered, smiling. “We shall start a family tradition. Perhaps one day, he may give it to a woman whom he loves.”
His lean fingers traced her soft skin with wonder. It was still hard to believe himself so blessed. “I’ve never said the words to you, yet you know how I feel, don’t you?”
She smiled warmly. “Every time you look at me, every time you touch me, I know,” she said. “Some emotions are so strong that they require no words.”
His eyes searched hers. “Mine are stronger than I ever imagined they might be,” he said. “You’ve closed the old doors. You’ve taken away the nightmares and made each day full of joy.” He took her soft hand, the one that wasn’t clasping the angel to her breast, and pressed it to his mouth. “I love you more than my life,” he whispered. “I’ll love you until I die, Noelle.”
Her heart jumped into her throat. She drew his head to her breasts and held him there, pressi
ng soft kisses against his dark, wavy hair. There were a hundred replies she could have made, but her heart was too full to speak them. She nuzzled her face against his until she found his mouth, and her answer was in her warm, loving kiss. She felt him smile, and as the snow shower fell more noticeably outside, she held Christmas and the future in her heart.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781459230095
Copyright © 2009 by Diana Palmer
First published by Ivy Books in 1995
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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