Noelle. Diana Palmer
a disagreement with an armed cowboy in a small community called Terrell,” he said, sitting down across from her. “My shot broke his arm, but a wild bullet got me in the leg. It still pains me a bit, but in a few weeks, I’ll be as good as new. So will he, fortunately,” he added grimly. “Maybe he’ll be more careful about who he pulls a gun on from now on.”
“Gunfights, in such a civilized age,” his grandmother said coolly. “For heaven’s sake, this is just what Edith wanted to avoid! It’s why she begged you to go East to school in the first place.”
“I have avoided it—mostly,” he said, dropping the cane idly by his side. “There are still uncivilized places…and men who reach for a gun before they look for a man with a badge. In court cases, tempers run hot.”
“That’s probably why you chose law as a profession,” Mrs. Dunn said curtly. “It’s a dangerous job.”
He smiled. “So it is, from time to time. I’m going to open an office here in Fort Worth. New York has lost its appeal for me.”
Her blue eyes, so like his own, softened. “Are you, truly, Jared? It would be such a joy to have you home all the time.”
“I’ve missed you, too,” he confessed.
She bit her lower lip. “No one knows about your past here,” she said gently. “I’ve never told anyone, least of all Andrew. But these scrapes you get into…What if any of your adversaries turn up in town?”
He chuckled. “What if they do? Gunplay is a thing of the past, except in saloons and during robberies. I’m hardly likely to find myself a target for young gunmen, except in dime novels,” he added dryly.
“Don’t remind me,” she muttered, recalling that he’d been featured in one with a lurid cover and six guns in both his hands—ridiculous, since he’d only ever worn one gun, even in his young and wild days.
“I’m a respectable attorney.”
“You’re a hard case,” Mrs. Dunn said shortly. “And neither of us is as respectable as we want people to think we are. Why, I was working in a saloon in Dodge when your mama had you. And now I belong to the Women’s Benevolent Society and the Temperance Union and the Ladies’ Sewing Circle and the prayer group. However would people look at me if they knew my real past?”
“The same as they look at you now, except with more fascination, you naughty woman,” he murmured dryly.
She laughed. “I hardly think so.” She shook her head. “Oh, Jared, how hard are the lessons we learn in youth. And all our indiscretions follow us like shadows into old age.”
He searched her tired, lined face with compassion. Her life had been a much harder one than his own, although he carried scars, too. Despite the fact that he’d never killed without reason, the violence of the past occasionally woke him in lurid detail, and he had to get up and pace the floor to subdue the nightmares.
“You have your own demons,” she said, recognizing the fleeting pain in his eyes.
“Don’t we all have them?” He sighed heavily. “What about our redheaded houseguest?” he added. “Tell me about her.”
“She’s very kind,” she said. “She can cook if she’s ever needed in the kitchen, and she doesn’t mind hard work.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
She grimaced. “She’s sweet on Andrew, and vice versa. He was attracted to her at once. When he found out her circumstances, he insisted that she come here. Her family died in the flood that hit Galveston in the fall of 1900, and she’s been living in Victoria with an elderly uncle. But he has the offer of a good job in Galveston and she was terrified to go back there. Perhaps the uncle wanted to be rid of her. So Andrew invited her to come and live with us.” She tucked a fold of her dress into place. “He knew you wouldn’t like it, but he said that he did contribute to the household accounts and he’d be responsible for her keep.”
“He contributes ten dollars a month,” Jared remarked. “The rest he spends on new boots and fine livery for his carriage.”
“Yes, I know. But his father was good to Edith.”
“And to you. I remember. Andrew is the cross we must bear for his father’s kindness.”
“That was unkind and uncharitable.”
“I’m not a kind man,” he reminded her, and for an instant, the old, wild look was in his eyes.
“I might agree if I didn’t know you so well. You’re kind to the people you love.”
“There were only ever two—you and my mother.”
She smiled gently. “You might find a woman who could love you and marry one day, Jared. You should have a family of your own. I won’t live forever.”
“Andrew will,” he muttered darkly. “And I expect to find myself responsible for him until I die.”
“Cynicism does not suit you.”
“I find that it sits heavily on me of late,” he returned, tapping the boot on the foot he’d crossed over his knee. “When I started practicing law, I wanted to be on the side of justice. But lately, more and more, I find myself on the side of money. I’m tired of helping the rich disinherit the poor. Ambition has paled for me in recent months. Now, I want to do some good.”
“I’m sure you already have. But you will find worthy people here in need of representation.”
“Yes. I think I will.” He narrowed one eye. “Is Andrew serious about Noelle?”
She grimaced. “Who can tell? Andrew is fickle. He was trying to court Amanda Doyle for a brief time…You remember her father, Jared—he has a big house in town and three daughters. He fought in the cavalry in the Indian Wars.”
“Yes,” he said as an impression of a dignified old man flashed before his eyes. Like himself, Doyle had grown up in wild times, but his daughters had been protected from everything unpleasant and his wife was a socialite.
“But Miss Doyle would have nothing to do with Andrew,” his grandmother continued. “It was about that time that he went to Galveston and found Noelle.”
“And devastated her with his swagger, no doubt,” Jared murmured dryly.
“Dear boy, he does cut a dashing figure with his exaggerated war record and his blond good looks and his arrogance.”
“And his youth,” Jared added, chuckling. “Your houseguest seems to class me with the aged and infirm.”
“She knows nothing about you,” she reminded him. “And you seem to be encouraging her mistaken impression of your character.”
“Let it lie,” he said. “She seems to be no more than a bad-tempered child, but if she came here expecting someone to support her for the rest of her life, she’s going to be badly disappointed.”
His grandmother flushed. “I never thought of the imposition it would mean to you, bringing her here,” she said, embarrassed.
He held up a hand. “You were coerced,” he said simply. “I know Andrew, remember. But we know nothing of this girl. She could be anybody.”
“Andrew said that her uncle was well known, and the family was a respectable one,” she told him.
He didn’t want to know anything about the girl. She irritated him too much already.
“And it occurred to me that Andrew might have brought her here because he was considering marriage,” his grandmother added.
He didn’t like that. He laughed coldly. “Andrew isn’t ready to settle down,” he added deliberately, more for his own benefit than hers. He leaned back and rubbed gingerly at his sore leg.
“Do you intend asking her to leave?”