The Bride Series (Omnibus Edition)

by Bittner, Rosanne

  Are you watching. Mother? she thought. She started to turn when she caught sight of a familiar figure. He was riding away through a stand of trees toward the back of the schoolhouse, a big man wearing buckskins, his dark hair hanging nearly to his waist from beneath a leather hat. Rachael frowned, watching him curiously, almost certain it was the Indian she had seen at the river.

  A chill moved down her spine and she turned away. Calling the class to attention, she struggled to put what she had just seen out of her mind. But she could not help wondering what the Indian had been doing behind the school-house.

  Rachael set down her cup of coffee, watching Lacy Reed knead some bread dough. The boardinghouse was quiet, the neat, two-story frame house empty except for Lacy and Rachael.

  “My husband always liked to have people around. We had an even bigger house in New Orleans,” Lacy was telling Rachael. “For some reason we never could have children, so we made up for it by taking in people. Then Bob got the itch to come to Texas. Lord knows if I had known he was going to die in this godforsaken place, I never would have let him come.” Her voice choked a little and her eyes teared, even though her husband had been dead for four years. “At any rate, I haven’t had the heart to go back to Louisiana without him,” she continued, breaking off some dough and dropping it into a bread pan. “He built this place and I just can’t bring myself to leave it.”

  The woman moved her eyes to Rachael. Her eyes were still a bright blue, but surrounded by wrinkles. Rachael could see that Lacy was once a pretty woman, and her auburn hair was still thick, pulled up into a huge bun at the top of her head and showing just a little gray at the temples. The woman was tiny but solid, with a large bosom and strong-looking arms. She broke off another piece of dough with veined, wrinkled hands, and Rachael wondered how old she was. She guessed perhaps fifty.

  “Oh, your mother would be so proud to see you now, Rachael,” the woman was saying. “I remember her, even though Bob and I had only been here a few months when she died. We felt so bad for your pa. Everybody could see what a broken man he was after that. I expect he’s a lot happier now.” She dropped more dough into another pan. “I’m so glad you decided to stay in town. I’m real happy to be able to give you a room, honey. If there’s anything you need, you just let me know.”

  “Thank you, Lacy.” Rachael rose and poured herself more coffee. She felt comfortable with Lacy, felt she could confide in her, especially when they talked together in the big, warm kitchen, where Rachael often volunteered to help with cooking.

  The other two boarders were men—Stewart Glass, a banker from the East staying only a few weeks to set up a new branch in Austin; and Bert Peters, a widowed settler who had sold his land and had come to town to work. The boarders’ rooms were upstairs in the big, rambling house, while downstairs was a parlor, a dining room where the boarders all ate together and a library. Lacy slept in a small room behind the kitchen.

  “Do you want me to cut the noodles for drying?” Rachael asked, returning to the table with her coffee.

  “Why, that would be real nice of you, honey,” Lacy answered. She moved a huge glass bowl over toward Rachael, in which a warm, rising ball of dough sat waiting to be rolled flat and cut into noodles and dumplings. “How is the teaching going? You getting along with Mr. Dreyfuss? It’s been nearly two weeks already.”

  “I hardly ever see Mr. Dreyfuss. He’s usually out riding circuit. But he says he may have to stop for a while. There are too many renegades out there in the hills.” Rachael set down her cup and put on an apron. “I think most of the parents have finally accepted me,” she continued. “And Mr. Dreyfuss seems very happy to have me. The biggest problem is we never seem to have enough supplies and books.”

  Lacy chuckled. “That’s Texas for you. Always short on supplies from the East.”

  Rachael pulled away some dough and dropped it onto the floured table, picking up a rolling pin. She thought again about the stranger she had seen across the river and again behind the school. She had never told anyone, but the memory of his face remained vivid, always there, especially at night when she tried to go to sleep. She turned the dough so that both sides were floured, then took a deep breath before asking Lacy her next question.

  “Lacy,” she said then. “I heard Jason talking about a half-breed who was supposedly settled north of town—I think his name was Brand something-or-other—Jason didn’t have much good to say about him. Have you ever heard of him?”

  “Oh, sure I have. Selby is his last name. I even saw him once, when I took old Betsy over to the livery for new shoes. There he was, standing just inside waiting for his own horse to get shod. Scared me at first—he’s a big one, that man. I didn’t even know right away who he was, not ’til Stu Bates, the livery owner, told me later. I just thought some Indian was standing there, and I was afraid to look at him again. But Stu, he didn’t seem concerned, so I figured I didn’t need to be either. I waited, watching Stu shoe that pretty, painted Appaloosa, while he just stood there real quiet like, saying nothing. Finally I couldn’t resist glancing at him again, and you know what he did?”

  Rachael stopped rolling the dough, moving her eyes to meet Lacy’s. Lacy stood with a wad of dough in her hands. “That man smiled at me, and was I surprised—not just because he smiled, but because I realized then he wasn’t any full-blood Indian. No full-blood looks like that, let me tell you. It might be sinful for me to say it, Rachael, but that man was downright handsome, and he had green eyes. I was so surprised by those green eyes, I guess it showed on my face and that’s why he smiled. I knew by those eyes and his hair being brown and not black that he wasn’t any ordinary Indian, and when he smiled…” The woman shook her head. “Well, I’ll tell you, I felt things that a woman my age shouldn’t feel. I’d never tell that to anybody else, especially with him being a half-blood. Most folks consider that the worst kind of race there is—the ones who don’t really belong to one world or the other. And they say men like that can’t be trusted—civilized one minute, wild as a polecat the next.”

  Rachael smiled to herself, feeling again the pleasant warmth deep inside at Lacy’s description of Brand Selby. She would not forget the name after this. Brand Selby. It was a nice name. “What do you know about him?” she asked the woman then.

  Lacy frowned, giving Rachael a cautious look. “Why are you asking, young lady?”

  Rachael smiled outwardly, flattening the dough a little more, then picking up a knife to cut it. “I think I saw him once, Lacy. I didn’t speak to him, but I saw him.”

  “Where?” Lacy wiped her hands on a towel, looking a little worried.

  “On my way here with Jason. I was washing by the river and he just appeared without making a sound. It was the strangest thing that has ever happened to me.” She put down the knife and met the woman’s eyes. “For some reason I didn’t call out to Jason. I just stared at him, and he stared back at me. What surprised me most was I wasn’t even afraid.”

  “Hmmm.” Lacy folded her arms. “I reckon it’s a good thing you didn’t call out. Jason Brown’s got less use for half-breeds than he has for full-bloods. And there’s some rumor about bad blood between them two, but I don’t know what it’s about.”

  Rachael returned to cutting the dough. “What do you think of Jason, Lacy?”

  Lacy shrugged, picking up two pans of bread and turning to the stove. “He’s a handsome man, that’s for sure.”

  “I’m not talking about his looks.”

  Lacy opened the oven door and shoved the bread inside, then opened the wood-burning box beside it and added some more wood. Both women were already getting too warm from baking on what was going to be a very warm day. It was still early morning, and a day of no school, so Rachael had decided to get up early and help with the baking.

  Lacy turned to face the younger woman, putting her hands on her hips. “I don’t think I like him much,” she told Rachael. “I know he’s been coming here to see you, Rachael, but there’s something abou
t that man that gives me the shivers. And I have a feeling by the way he talks about Indians that he abuses the use of that badge he wears.”

  Rachael sighed, frowning. “I feel the same way. But he’s so persistent, Lacy, and he really does care for me. Sometimes I think I’m crazy to not be able to think of him in a serious way. He’s handsome, dependable, protective, capable. He’s never done anything to frighten me, and yet sometimes I actually am afraid of him. Isn’t that silly?”

  “No. It’s a woman’s instinct. There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ll never go wrong if you follow your instincts. And don’t ever do something for somebody because you feel like you owe it to them. Just because that man has a yen for you doesn’t mean you owe him a thing. Besides, I don’t doubt most of the eligible men in this town have a yen for you, as well as a lot of the married ones!”

  Rachael blushed and smiled, and Lacy laughed lightly. “I don’t mean to tell you your business, honey, but just be careful. You came back here to teach and to be near your brothers. That’s enough for now. And you remember that Jason Brown can’t stop you from seeing somebody else if you’ve got a mind to.”

  Rachael shrugged. “There really isn’t anyone in particular I care to see.”

  Lacy nodded slowly, studying the girl as Rachael returned to cutting the noodles. “You sure about that?” she asked then.

  Rachael looked at her in surprise. “Yes. What do you mean?”

  The woman walked back to the table, greasing two more bread pans. “I mean you dropped the subject of Brand Selby kind of quick like. I didn’t think we were through talking about him. You never said how you felt when you saw him—I mean, how you really felt. All you said is you weren’t afraid of him.”

  Rachael shrugged. “What else do you want me to say? I saw a stranger on the other side of the river who was very interesting, to say the least. But we didn’t speak or anything. I was just wondering if it could be the same man. After you described this Brand Selby, I realized it had to be him.”

  “And you haven’t been able to get him off your mind ever since, right?”

  Rachael blushed again, her hands suddenly feeling clammy. “I wouldn’t say that. But I think I saw him again, riding away from behind the schoolhouse. That was the first day I taught. I’ve seen no sign of him since.”

  Lacy frowned. “Well, it’s just as well. Remember he’s a half-breed. Folks don’t say what they say about half-breeds without things happening to make them believe that way. There have been half-breeds who proved to be worse than their full-blood brothers. And because they live in both worlds, they often betray one for the other. You never know if a man like that is going to be white or Indian.”

  “Lacy Reed, now you’re talking like most other people around here. I didn’t think you judged people that way.”

  “I don’t. I’m just telling you how things are, Rachael. You can’t judge anybody until you know them, and it’s not likely you’ll ever get to know that one. He doesn’t often come to town, and even when he does, he knows better than to be caught dead talking to a white woman. Men like that get themselves hanged real fast for such things.”

  “Well, that just isn’t right. He’s a man—just a man—not a half-breed. It’s terrible to brand people that way. If he wants to talk to someone, he has the right to do it.”

  Lacy eyed her warily. “Let me warn you, Rachael, to get that one off your mind right now. You give him the time of day, and you’ll be opening a kettle of trouble—and most of the trouble will come to that pour soul, not to you. This town would come down on him like the side of a mountain, and Jason Brown would send the first boulder tumbling.”

  “Jason Brown doesn’t run my life.” Rachael’s eyes burned with a sudden feeling of sadness, her heart racing with a need to defend the stranger she didn’t even know.

  “Well, I’m not telling you what to do with your life, either, honey. I didn’t mean it that way. I just care a lot about you, and I want you to learn to be careful, to think things through.”

  Rachael toyed with a piece of dough in her fingers. “I know.” She met the woman’s eyes. “And you were right. I haven’t been able to forget about him, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

  Lacy patted her arm. “Don’t do anything. Just give it time. You’re just beginning to get settled in here, and that doggone Jason Brown has you all upset with his pestering ways. You want me to turn him away the next time he comes calling?”

  Rachael smiled sadly. “No. It’s my problem, not yours. I’ll just have to find a way to gently turn him away myself. He’ll be going out on another patrol soon, and then I’ll have some free time to think. He’s not a bad person, Lacy; at least I don’t think he is. But I just don’t have that…that feeling for him that my mother always told me I would feel when I saw the man I knew I’d want to spend my life with. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I had that feeling with my Bob.” The woman returned to her end of the table, pulling apart some more dough. “I agree Jason is handsome, and he seems to be a good man—dependable and all that. But it’s like your ma told you, honey. You’ve got to have that special feeling if you’re going to be happy being a man’s wife. I can’t imagine anything worse than going to bed with a man I don’t love.”

  “Lacy!” Rachael reddened deeply, cutting at the dough and unable to meet the woman’s eyes.

  Lacy chuckled. “That’s all your mother was trying to tell you, honey. When you give yourself to a man you’ve got to feel good about him. You’ve got to want him same as he wants you, and there’s nothing wrong or sinful about it. It’s a natural thing, and it’s good and beautiful. That’s why it’s so important he’s the right man.”

  Rachael nodded, taking out some more dough. “I think I know what you mean.” How, she wished she could forget about Brand Selby. “Don’t ever tell anyone what I told you about seeing Brand Selby. Not everyone would understand.”

  “I won’t tell anyone. You just remember I’m here, honey, anytime. You can tell me anything and I’ll try to help and understand.”

  Rachael smiled softly. “Thanks, Lacy.” She wanted to know more about Brand Selby—which one of his parents was white? Was he once really a scout for the militia? Had he ever lived with the Comanche? But asking questions would mean she was interested, and she must never, never be interested. She would not bring up the subject again. Besides, Jason was coming to see her this evening. She had to think about Jason, decide how she felt about him, what to tell him.

  Jason followed Rachael into the parlor, watching the sway of her skirts, envisioning the body that walked beneath them. He wondered how much longer he could patiently wait for her to show some warmth and desire for him. He had seen her often over the past couple of weeks, had accompanied her while she shopped, dined with her, visited her often here at the boardinghouse. But she still treated him as a casual friend and nothing more.

  “Lacy is bringing in some tea,” she said and turned, watching him with the blue eyes that stirred his insides. If any woman was perfectly shaped and exquisitely beautiful, it was Rachael Rivers. She wore a dress today as blue as her eyes, and her long, golden hair hung loose, brushed back off her face and fastened with combs at the sides. She smiled, sitting down on a gold brocade settee and motioning for him to sit down beside her. “How long will you be gone?” she asked.

  “It’s hard to say. Could be a month, maybe more. Texas is big country, with too few men to keep order.”

  “I sometimes wonder how it can be done at all. It’s good that there are men like you who are willing to go out and try to bring at least some sense of law and order.”

  He read a hint of admiration in her eyes, then wondered if it was only wishful thinking. “Will you miss me, Rachael?”

  She reddened slightly, looking at her lap. “Of course. You’ve kept me occupied since I’ve been back—you and the teaching. It has helped me get used to being back here. The only problem is that after you leave,
school will soon end. It’s getting to be that time of year when children are needed at home to help with the planting and such, and it’s too hot to expect children to sit still in one little schoolroom.”

  “Rachael, you know what I mean. Will you really miss me?” He reached out and took one of her hands. “The way I’ll miss you—long for you—dream about you?”

  “Jason, don’t.”

  He sighed deeply, releasing her hand and rising. “What the hell—” He stopped mid-sentence as Lacy came in with a tray of tea.

  “Hello, Jason,” the woman said coolly, setting down the tray.

  “Hello, Lacy. How’s the boardinghouse business?”

  “Full up, like always.” Lacy glanced at Rachael, seeing a somewhat distraught look on her face. She reached out and patted the girl’s hand and gave her a wink, then turned to face Jason. “How about the Ranger business? You going very far this time?”

  “Making a wide sweep of all the settlers in kind of an arc around Austin from north to east to south. A lot of renegades and outlaws ride that border country between us and the Comanche.”

  “Sounds a little dangerous.”

  Jason glanced at Rachael, hoping she would worry. “Just living in Texas is dangerous,” he answered, moving his eyes to Lacy again. “But you’re right. Out there it won’t be any picnic. But I’ll have help. I won’t be alone.”

  Lacy nodded, putting her hands on her hips. “I suppose you’ll have that ugly-looking whip with you, too?”

  Jason flushed with repressed anger, his friendly attitude disappearing. Rachael watched in surprise, wondering why Lacy had made the remark.

  “That whip is as much a weapon as my repeater,” Jason told Lacy. “Like you said, it’s dangerous out there.”

  “Yes, it is. But some men use that danger to satisfy their own thirst for power and adventure. And sometimes the line between lawmen and outlaws is mighty thin.”

  Jason frowned with irritation, glancing at Rachael and giving her a nervous little grin, then looking back at Lacy with the frown again. How he wanted to hit the nibby old battle-ax! “You got a bone to pick, Lacy? I would appreciate an explanation to that remark.”