Texas Proud (Vincente 2) by Constance O'Banyon

her? "You
don't understand. Noble has his reasons for wanting me dead."
    The doctor spoke to her as if he were speaking
to a child. "What reason would that be, Rachel?"
    "He...I despise him. I swore to avenge my father's death. He knows I'll do it."
    "Hell, Rachel. Noble had the whole Yankee
army shooting at him. Do you think he's worried
about one small woman?"
    "He realizes that I..." Her voice faded away.
She couldn't think clearly, and she couldn't think
of a solid reason why a man like Noble would
want her dead. "Some people don't need a reason
to kill, Dr. Stanhope."
    "And you believe that Noble is one of those people?"

    "No' she said truthfully. "But it seems to me
that-"
    "Do you want the truth?" he asked kindly.
    She nodded, trusting Dr. Stanhope as she had
trusted her own father.
    "Noble probably saved your life by removing the
bullet. It missed your heart by less than a quarter
of an inch."
    She shivered at his words. She searched her
memory carefully, feeling as if she viewed it
through a fragile veil. Noble couldn't have shot
her because he certainly hadn't been concealing a
gun at the time she'd been shot. They were both
naked in the river! Distress filled her mind. When
she tried to move, pain shot through her as if it
were tearing at her flesh. She lay very still, gasping
for breath.
    She wouldn't try that again anytime soon.
    "You will have to remain quiet, Rachel, if you
want the wound to heal," Dr. Stanhope told her
sternly while he patted her hand. "Try not to upset
yourself"
    Rachel hardly heard him because she was still
trying to sort out her thoughts. "If Noble didn't
shoot me himself, he could have had one of his
men do it."
    "Who?" Dr. Stanhope asked, with a slight edge
to his voice. "Kindhearted Alejandro? He would
die for Noble, but he wouldn't kill a woman for
him. Perhaps you think Margretta did it-or one
of her sons. Understand this, Rachel. Noble didn't shoot you, and he didn't have anyone else do it
either."

    "One of the vaqueros could have done it."
    "No. They all left after Don Reinaldo died."
    "So they deserted Noble," Rachel said with satisfaction.
    The doctor nodded while he applied healing
ointment to her wound and then rebound it. "I
have a gut feeling that most of them will hightail
it back when they hear Noble has returned. The
vaqueros of Casa del Sol have a strong loyalty to
the Vincente family."
    "Well," she said, changing the subject, "someone shot me, Dr. Stanhope. I certainly didn't do it
myself."
    "That much is true." He studied her for a long
moment. "Noble didn't tell me any of the particulars. He just said that the two of you were together when you were shot. Would you care to tell
me what you remember about the incident so I
can relate it to Sheriff Crenshaw?"
    Her face reddened and she looked away. She
couldn't tell anyone, especially not Dr. Stanhope,
that she'd been swimming naked with Noble Vincente. "I don't remember... very clearly." With
effort she raised her hand to her chest, feeling the
bulkiness of the bandages. "When can I go home?"
she asked, wishing she could leave with him.
    "Not just yet. I don't want you moved for at least
a week. You've lost a lot of blood, and I can't take
a chance on your rupturing the wound."

    Rachel had been so terrified of Noble when she
thought he was going to kill her. Now she no
longer feared him, but she was deeply ashamed
because of her brazen conduct at the river. How
could she ever face him again after he'd seen her
naked?
    Dr. Stanhope took her silence as consent. "You
will have the best of care here, Rachel."
    "You never believed that Noble shot my father,
did you, Dr. Stanhope?"
    "Nope. I've known Noble all his life, and a cowardly act would not be in his nature. Like his father before him, Noble's a man of honor." The
doctor offered her a spoonful of some foulsmelling concoction. "Take it like a good girl," he
said, smiling.
    She wrinkled her nose just as she had when