The Men of Pride County: The Rebel (30 page)

If the burden of her future was settled, perhaps then she could concentrate on willing her father well without worrying about what would become of her should he not recover. He held her tight, wondering if this was the right time, if he would be asking for the right reasons.

“He can’t die,” came her weak protest against the cruel inevitability of fate.

“Juliet, don’t you go worrying now. I’ll see you’re taken care of. I’ll see to it myself.”

She shook her head in rapid denial, pushing her palms against his chest to emphasize it. “I don’t want you to take care of me. I want him to be all right.”

“He will be, darlin’. No one’s going to take his place.”

She ceased her struggles and once again accepted his embrace. And Noble said nothing more on the subject. He continued to hold her, closing his heart around a pain too mighty to explore while dealing with the priority of another’s.

She didn’t want him.

Eventually, her tears ran out and she calmed enough for him to coax her down onto the steps beside him. He kept his arm about her shoulder, a strong bolster of support.

“Why didn’t I see it sooner?” she said to herself in an anguish of blame. “I should have seen how dangerous and determined she was.
All the signs were there. I just wasn’t seeing them.”

“Nonsense,” Noble growled, trying to shake her from her self-flagellation. “None of us guessed. Not even her husband had a clue as to how far gone she was. It’s not your fault, Juliet. You couldn’t have known.”

“But I knew he was in danger. I was so sure it was the same man who’d betrayed you. I’d finally persuaded Papa to tell me the man’s name—”

“Did he?”

The sudden demand jolted through Juliet’s misery. She looked up at his taut face, her stare accusing, agonizing.

“No. He didn’t have time. But I should have known that’s what you’d see as the important thing.”

“No, Juliet, that’s not—”

But she wouldn’t listen. She shoved herself out of his embrace and stumbled to her feet. He watched as her inner courage strengthened her stance and put fire back in her tear-drenched eyes.

“Get away from here, away from us.”

“Juliet—”

“Go! You’re not going to hover over his bed like some vulture hoping to feed off his last words. You and your code of honor disgust me, Major Banning. How dare you try to take advantage of my pain! Get out of my sight and stay out of my life!”

Without listening to any further arguments,
she sprang up the steps and disappeared into the post hospital, where he had no right to follow, because he couldn’t convince her that he was completely innocent of self-interest without confessing to emotions she’d already rejected twice.

John Crowley’s condition fluctuated during the hours of the night. There were moments when Dr. Penny came close to losing him, but the colonel fought stubbornly. Perhaps it was the two silent sentinels at his bedside—his daughter and the widow who’d only recently caught his interest—perhaps it was his unwillingness to leave either behind that made him struggle against blood loss and trauma until by dawn’s light, Penny pronounced him, with no little amazement, stabilized.

During those long, anxious hours, the two women learned to lean on each other. By the time Crowley was said to be out of danger, a strong bond had developed between them. Juliet felt secure enough to abandon her watch to Anne so that she could seek her own bed and some desperately needed slumber. She hadn’t the strength to deal with the other matter pressing upon her heart—that of Noble Banning’s treachery.

He’d just been using her. What more proof did she need?

She could ban him from her thoughts, but she couldn’t keep the tears from soaking her pillow. Finally, she fell into an exhausted
sleep, not awaking until late that same day to the smell of coffee brewing in her kitchen.

After quickly dressing, Juliet left her bedroom to find Miles and Jane patiently waiting. A pang of disappointment shot through her, but she refused to recognize it as a wish that it had been Noble seated in her father’s chair instead of her old friend, Noble coming to apologize, to make some believable excuse to take the terrible sense of loss away.

But he wasn’t there. And nothing he could say would ever make any difference.

Jane crossed to embrace her. “Oh, darling, I feel so awful for you!”

Juliet let her friend fuss and coddle her, needing the spoiling too much to protest. Finally, she forced herself to ask after her father’s condition. Brother and sister exchanged a look.

Panic darted through Juliet as her private woes were forgotten.

“Is he worse? Please tell me.”

“He’s getting stronger by the hour,” Miles assured her. Another glance at Jane had Juliet’s belly knotting.

“But—?”

He cleared his throat, carefully putting his words together before speaking. “There’s a problem with his eyes.”

“His eyes? What problem?”

Miles shifted uncomfortably. “The bullet may have damaged his vision.”

“Damaged how badly? Are you saying that he’s blind?”

“In one eye, possibly both. Penny can explain it better.”

But Juliet was already out the door, running toward the infirmary and answers she feared to receive.

“I’m not a specialist in these matters, Miss Crowley,” Penny began with characteristic bluntness. “I’d advise you to take him to one. I can give you several names from back East. For the moment, he shows no response to changes in light and darkness. It may be temporary. I just don’t know.”

“How soon can he travel?”

Miles had come in behind her, his big hands settling on her shoulders. “We can have a protective caravan ready to go tomorrow. Would he be ready then, Doc?”

“I think so.”

Juliet covered one of the major’s hands with her own. “Tomorrow then.”

“I’ll escort you as far as the railhead myself.”

She nodded, too frazzled to think of what else that would mean. It would mean leaving the only life she’d ever known behind her, perhaps forever. It would mean saying good-bye to Noble Banning.

Maisy Bartholomew got her wish. She was going home. Too sympathetic to the fragile woman’s circumstances to insist she be punished, Juliet applied all her influence to arrange passage back to South Carolina, where
Donald’s family would take her in and see that she received the help she needed. It was difficult to send her into enemy territory, but not impossible. The captain would remain in the West. He packed her belongings, delivering them and his wife without a hint of emotion to the sergeant in charge of her care. Maisy herself was placid to the point of being oblivious to her surroundings. She received her husband’s brief kiss on her cheek without so much as blinking her eyes.

Juliet dismantled their home with a quick efficiency, storing each item, each memento with practiced care. As she was about to crate up her feathered friends, she paused in surprise at the sight of her garden. The sprouts were green and standing upright, showing every sign of prosperity. Something good would remain in reminder of her passing.

She placed their care in Colleen’s hands, at the last minute adding the goat and chickens. There would be no place for livestock where they were going. Colleen accepted the responsibility for the gifts with grateful tears.

Then she presented Jane with her hanging plants along with an emotional hug.

“Write me, darling,” Jane insisted. “Let me know how things progress.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Are you sure you have everything? You’ve been in such a rush.”

Juliet paused to glance about.

The adobe was empty, awaiting its next occupant,
now just impersonal rooms instead of a home. Her father had been carefully loaded into one ambulance for travel. Anne Stacy sat beside him. Pauline and her children would share another with Maisy Bartholomew and her military escort.

No, there was nothing left for her.

The entire regiment was lined up at attention. She took in their familiar faces: George Allen, Doc Penny, Albert Howell with his arm still in a sling. And at their head was the new commander of Fort Blair: Noble Banning. Despite the lingering pain of their last meeting, Juliet’s heart gave a wistful lurch.

“Almost everything,” she told her friend. Then she purposefully crossed to Noble.

He watched her approach, unreadable emotions flickering behind the pale blue of his eyes. She stood before him, part of her wanting to slap his face for so misusing her emotions, and another wishing to throw pride to the wind to have a last kiss good-bye.

She did neither.

“Convey my best wishes for a full recovery to your father, Miz Crowley.”

How formally said, as if they were strangers. But because they were anything but, Juliet wanted to leave him with the one thing he desired most of all.

“This is your post now, Major. Hold it honorably.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pitched her voice lower so only the two
of them could hear what she would say.

“I lied before. Father did tell me this—he’s dead, Noble.”

Confusion clouded his features, then the spark in his gaze flared hot. “Who?”

“He died before you ever left Maryland.”

She saw him digest that information. Saw the flash of questions, the moment of wondering why she’d chosen to reveal this only at this parting instant, and finally, the weight of acceptance. His quest was over. Now they were even. She’d given him back his life, and he’d taught her what it was like to live. And that was all there could ever be between them. She knew that as she waited for him to speak, for him to say anything that would give her a reason to stay, to hold out some hope….

“Have a safe journey, Juliet.”

It wasn’t enough.

“Thank you, Major.”

His sword flashed up in a dramatic salute, his stare never leaving hers. And because there was nothing left for her to do but walk away, she did so with head held high, never looking back to the man who would always hold her heart at saber-point.

The ride was hard on all of them, but especially upon John Crowley. Juliet and Anne did their best to keep him comfortable, but fever fed his anxiety and made for a difficult trip.

Watching the other woman tenderly caring
for her father gave Juliet a glimpse of her future. A future alone. She’d never looked beyond a life tending the colonel, following the drum, but now it loomed before her, a vast unknown of independence and uncertainty.

And she was afraid.

She’d never been prepared for a life alone. Undoubtedly her father’s condition would consume a great deal of their time. But once he’d either recovered or accepted his limits, where did that leave her? What would she do if Anne and the colonel set up housekeeping together? Though she was sure Anne wouldn’t cast her out, her own pride wouldn’t allow her to linger, a second woman in another’s home.

They were heading for Boston, where one of the country’s leading eye specialists would treat her father’s blindness, a city like the one she’d stayed in while her father was involved in the Civil War. Thinking ahead to the crowds, the noise, the confusion, her spirit rebelled. She would suffocate in the press of narrow streets and confining manners. But what other choice did she have until her father had stabilized? And what after that?

One answer came to her as they boarded the eastbound train. As she saw to the loading of their belongings while Anne got the colonel situated in their private room, Miles lingered at her side. When she turned to him with a sad smile, he doffed his hat.

“Juliet, this doesn’t have to be good-bye.”

She could have agreed with him to spare
him pain, but it wasn’t her way to give false encouragement.

“I’m afraid it will be, Miles. I have a feeling I’ll never see the West again, and I don’t know that I shall miss it. Even if Papa recovers enough to return to his commission, my guess is he’ll be bringing another woman back to tend his house for him. There’ll be no place in it for me.” There was sadness in that statement but no resentment.

“Then you can come back with him and tend my house for me.”

She’d expected him to make some last-minute declaration, but still it came as a bittersweet shock. Solid, unimaginative Miles, as limited in emotional intensity as he was in scope. He was offering her a future, one that would be familiar, predictable.

“You’re a dear, dear friend, Miles.”

He smiled miserably, for once reading between the lines. “But nothing more. I had held such high hopes that you would change your mind, Juliet, that you would see our future together as one. You can’t blame me for asking.”

She put her hand on his arm. “No, and I’m flattered. I truly am.”

“I do care for you, Juliet. I would make you a good husband.”

He would, she’d no doubt. He would give her exactly the same life she’d led with her father—no surprises, no changes, just worry and loneliness without love.

It wasn’t enough. Not any more.

“I will think of you and Jane often.”

She stretched up to press a fond kiss to his cheek. He understood it meant good-bye and sighed. For a moment, he held her close.

“I wish I knew of some way to persuade you to come back, Juliet.”

There was, she admitted to herself at that melancholy moment.

If Noble Banning had done the asking.

“Good-bye, Miles.”

With one last look around at the uniformed men, at the vast untamed sky and savage land, Juliet stepped on the train and headed for a new life.

Chapter 23

Pride County, Kentucky
1865

When he stepped onto the platform, the first thing he did was close his eyes and breathe deep. Even with the ash from the train, there was no disguising the rich, earthy smell of Kentucky.

Home.

Noble glanced around him, having to blink to clear his vision. Changes, yes, but enough similarities to make him feel embraced. He hadn’t thought anything could affect him as profoundly as four simple words: “The war is over.” But this did, this first, long-awaited glimpse of Pride.

Crowley had kept his promise with a reach that stretched all the way from Boston to New Mexico. When the South surrendered, Noble and his men were free to leave the post, where they’d continued to serve in Crowley’s absence.
He’d turned over his duties to Miles Dougherty with relief and no regret, and had led his men out of the desert.