A Rush of Wings (24 page)

“Toast?”

She shook her head. “No thanks.”

He scrambled the eggs with a spatula, then filled their plates and set them on the table. She looked from the eggs to his face when he took her hand in his. He closed his eyes. “ ‘He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” ' Lord, thank you for your bounty and your care, and thank you for bringing Noelle. Please bless this food. Amen.”

“Rick . . .”

“Eat first. Then we'll talk.”

She took a bite and savored it. “I hate to admit it, but . . .”

“It's great, isn't it?” He cracked a sideways smile.

She returned it. Maybe her hunger enhanced his efforts, but the food was great. She finished it all.

Rick laid down his fork and eyed her. “Noelle, I understand why you couldn't go home. I guess I see why you stayed in that hovel and nearly froze to death. But you could have come to me.”

She stared at her plate. Not without telling him. But now that she had . . .

He leaned forward and took her hands between his. “I want to help.”

Her chest tightened. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I don't know. It just happened.” His eyes held no guile. If Morgan was veneer, Rick was solid hardwood. He was telling her the truth.

She bit her lip, uncertain what to think, what to feel, but he demonstrated no uncertainty. He was in control.

“We need a plan of action.”

“What action?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “First, do you want to press charges?”

She searched his face. Charges? Against Michael? “It would devastate Daddy. I don't want him to know.”

“Are you sure?”

She imagined the shock and embarrassment, the way the media would jump like wolves to tear him apart. Daddy had made no secret of his pride in Michael. It would be a circus the moment word got out that William St. Claire's protégé had raped his daughter. They would find every ugly angle. Her picture would be plastered on every newscast, her unconventional youth sensationalized and criticized. Part of her cried out that he deserved it. But she knew it wasn't true. He'd been as deceived as she.

“I'm sure.”

He replaced his hand atop hers. “Then I want to take you to Iowa.”

“Iowa?” What was he doing; what was he saying?

“Come home with me.”

She felt the trembling in her spine. “I am home.”

He shook his head. “We can't stay here alone. It wouldn't look right. That's partly why I let you go before.”

“What was the other part?”

“To get a grip on my feelings for you.”

Her heart warmed, and amazingly she felt no fear. “And did you?” She could see his struggle, and that meant more to her than all Morgan's easy claims.

His fingers slid to the nape of her neck as he leaned close and kissed her gently. “Obviously not.” He had enough gravel in his voice to convince her.

N
oelle shivered with more than the December cold as Rick bundled the quilt around her in the truck, then closed the door. Actual grief clenched her stomach at the thought of leaving the ranch; grief and anxiety. She watched Rick through the windows.

He walked with confidence and purpose as he once more checked the tarp that enclosed the bed, then climbed in. “Ready?”

No. Please don't take me away from here
. Especially not back toward the place she'd fled, closer to the danger she had escaped. Michael could find her. She knew it. But she nodded. Rick had made up his mind. A flicker of panic shot up her spine. As they started across the yard, Noelle turned back and stared out the rear window, then gripped his arm. “Do we have to go?”

He touched the brake, then let the truck move on. “We can't stay.”

They'd been over it already. His reputation and hers. Appearances. And Rick's feelings for her. She wasn't sure what to do with that. But that wasn't what scared her. She was alone in his truck driving across the country, yet Rick was safe. She had to believe that. If she couldn't trust Rick, she'd rather be dead. What scared her was leaving the ranch.

He reached over and held her hand. “It'll be okay.”

But as the ranch disappeared behind the rise, she pressed her other fingertips to her forehead, almost faint with tension. Was she losing her mind? She tried to get her breath. Only the strength of Rick's
hand kept her from jumping from the truck and running back. Tears stung her eyes.

“Believe me, Noelle. It's the best choice.”

“I don't recall a choice.”

He sent her a smile. “Decision, then.” His decision.

In the day she'd spent at the ranch, Rick had seen to all her business, paying her bills, canceling her rental agreement, collecting her clothes, not that many of them did her any good in the frigid temperatures. She had filled the gaps with sweaters and two pairs of jeans from the general store.

Rick glanced over, and she sensed his concern. She tried to smile, then bit her lip and looked away. His hand tightened. “God's watching out for us.”

She shook her head. “I don't believe that. If there were a God, bad things wouldn't happen.”

“Bad things happen because people have free will.”

She stared at the road taking them through town and away. She did not buy it. Her whole body tensed as they passed the last of Juniper Falls. “Rick . . .”

“Trust me, Noelle. And trust Jesus. Let Him prove He's real.”

“If we stayed you could tell me—”

“There's nothing magical about the ranch, Noelle.”

“I just—” Her voice broke. How could she make him understand?

“Lord,” Rick said, “Help Noelle. Let her know you're real. Bring her peace. Don't let her be afraid.” His voice soothed; his strength convinced. “You have everything under control, and we submit to your wisdom.”

He might submit, but the most she could do was try to relax. She fixed her eyes on the rocky walls of the canyon as they descended, recalling her ride up on the bus and Rudy's recommendation that she might try the Spencer place. Rick's ranch had been perfect, exactly what she needed, as though he'd built it just for her. “Why did you come here, Rick?”

“I love the mountains. We vacationed up here a lot when I was a kid, and I pretty much set my mind on having land in Colorado someday. Soon as I had the chance, I took it.”

She sighed. “Do you always know what you want?”

“No, but if I think I'm meant to do something, I do it.”

She pulled up the quilt around her, though the shivering had
stopped. It was going to be all right. Rick knew how to make it all right. If she could simply trust him.

Rick let Noelle doze as he drove. How could he reach her? How could he show her that trusting God was the only way to peace? How could he share his faith when she was so set against it? He'd taken a chance praying. He knew God would answer, even if Noelle didn't recognize it. But he could have antagonized her.

That bothered him. He didn't want to risk their fragile relationship. Rick frowned. But as Pastor Tom said, she might not return his affection. As things stood right now, he could handle that. He had invested little more than his concern and charity. If he concentrated more fervently on his desire for her to know Jesus than to love him, he could keep it that way.

Noelle awoke confused, and he steadied her with a hand. “We're still driving.”

Touching her came too naturally, though she didn't resist. He watched her doze off again and wondered what it would be like to fall asleep with her, to wake up to her. He'd experienced the same wonder after fighting the fire and finding her waiting. Coming home to her had felt so right. He'd always believed that if God intended him to marry, He'd provide someone who would be a counterpart to himself.

He hadn't thought too much about it, except on long winter nights when the wind howled off the mountain and the ranch creaked, empty except for him. And of course lately, since Noelle's coming—or more specifically, since she went to Walker's hovel. He hadn't expected to hurt the way he had. Maybe more of himself was invested than he wanted to admit.

She sighed and came fully awake but still looked drained. Though the antibiotics had done wonders for the pneumonia, she was not strong yet. Maybe driving it straight through was not the best plan. He got off on the next exit and found a roadside motel. “Wait here.”

He went into the office and put two rooms on his credit card. He signed the receipt, took the keys, and went back outside. Her tension was tangible when he climbed into the truck. He handed her one key card and showed her his different number. “Gotta trust me, Noelle.”

He drove around to their doors. Ground level, thankfully. “I'll get you in, then bring the bags.”

She said, “I can help.”

“Yep. By getting out of this wind.” He took her key from the envelope, slid it into the slot and quickly out. The light flashed green, and he turned the knob.

“Rick?”

“Yeah?” He caught the door with his shoulder.

“Have you been with a woman?”

He looked along the row of doors and windows following the sidewalk to the dumpster at the corner of the lot, then back to her. He supposed it was a fair question after all she'd shared. “If you mean intimately, no.”

“Why not?”

He rested his hand on the doorknob, holding it slightly ajar. He might have chosen a better time and place for this, but Noelle seemed urgent. “It's not right.”

“How do you know? How do you always do what's right?” Her green eyes searched over his face.

He could give her the biblical version but decided to be honest. “I learned from Morgan's mistakes. His senior year of high school, Morgan got his girlfriend pregnant. He wanted to marry her, but her family stepped in. They took her for an abortion and broke off all contact with him.” Rick tried not to show it, but even now he resented the pain and disappointment that had rocked his family.

Then he thought of Morgan. “It really tore him up.” He looked down into Noelle's eyes. “All of us, actually. But it showed me there's a right order for things.” He laid his palm against her cold cheek. “God's way, Noelle.” If he could just make her see it.

She closed the door behind her and looked around the room. It was about the same size as her room at Rick's but with a double bed. She listened to the water come on in Rick's room next door. She had no idea what to think. She'd never known anyone like him.

God's way
. Had God brought her to Rick? Was there some mysterious being who ordered and controlled the universe? It was a terrifying thought that the same God who held Rick back now had unleashed Michael. She wrapped herself in her arms. Maybe God's were the talons. God's the amber eyes.

———

The snow lay thick on the fields as they approached the house sitting long and low in the drifts. Rick drew a long breath. It was still home. Gray shutters flanked the windows hung with white lace. Dark shrubs lined the front, and tall, bare trees stood behind, sweeping the roof with their branches.

Along the drive and across the fields, the white fences marked out his childhood boundaries. But with Noelle beside him he felt anything but boyish. He was twenty-nine years old, and he'd still spent most of the night fighting the emotions that flamed up when his thoughts touched some aspect of Noelle. His bringing her home would definitely raise eyebrows. But he would be careful, very careful.

He glanced at her. “You all right?”

She nodded. “I didn't sleep well last night.” And she looked it.

“You can rest when we get in.” The tires squeaked on the snowy drive, then ground to a halt.

As Rick helped her down, his dad came outside. “Careful there. It's slick.” Dad's smile faded as he looked at Noelle, but he reached out a hand to both of them. “Welcome.”

Noelle hung heavily on Rick's arm, her limp more pronounced. Probably the hours in the car. She'd been alert but silent most of the day. What was she thinking?

His mother met them at the door. “Come in, come in. You look half-frozen.”

“Heater's acting up in the truck.” Which was why he'd kept Noelle bundled in the quilt. His fingers just touched her back. “Mom, this is Noelle. Noelle, my mother, Celia.” Mom's hair had gone more gray than brown, he noticed. But she'd lost none of her vigor. She was a ranch wife of the old school, hardy and warm.

She squeezed Noelle's hand. “That's a hard drive in a truck.”

“Thank you for letting me come.” In contrast, Noelle looked like a fairy princess, the sort that got hidden among peasants from a wicked enemy. Or was that his own mind making the analogy?

Rick brought her in and motioned her toward the couch. “Have a seat while I unload.”

“I'll give you a hand out there.” Dad clapped his shoulder.

Rick knew what was coming. Dad's tone had been just a little too casual, not that he expected it wouldn't come up, but he didn't have a good explanation yet. He left Noelle to his mother and went outside. He unfastened the tarp, well aware of his father's scrutiny.

“That's not the same young lady I met last summer.” His dad pulled out two of the bags.

“She took a fall on Aldebaran, broke her leg and bruised her ribs.”

“That accounts for the limp.” Dad started for the house.

Rick grabbed the last bags. “She moved into a shabby place in town and caught pneumonia.”

His father paused on the stairs. “There's more here than you want to tell?”

Rick nodded. “Not just now, Dad.”

His father pursed his lips, considering. “Your mother won't let you off so easy.”

He grimaced. “I'm sure you're right.”

———

“Rick! Mom, you didn't tell us Rick was coming!”

Noelle startled and sat up on the couch, confused by the unfamiliar place, unfamiliar voices.

“When did you come? Are you staying all the way till Christmas?” Girls' voices.

Rick's came from behind the double doors. “You think I'd miss seeing you open your bags of coal? Ouch! Cut it out or I won't show you what I've brought.”

A young voice spoke. “What have you brought?”

“Something sorely lacking in this house.”

“What?”

“A lady.” He said it in a tone Noelle had not heard him use—teasing, taunting.

“You have a girlfriend, Rick?” This voice was huskier and brusque.

“All I said is she's a lady. Unlike you female brutes.”

“Rick . . .” That was his mother. Noelle felt a pang to hear a mother chide her son. Even an adult son. Hers and Daddy's had always been an adult relationship.
“How was your lesson, Noelle?” “Fine, Daddy. How were your cases?”

“Where is she?” The little voice again.

“In the living room.” He quieted. “I'll let you see her if you can be quiet.”

The double doors swung open, and four bright-faced young women
poured through, all talking at once. Noelle looked from one face to another.

“I knew it was impossible.” Rick frowned. “Now you woke her up. Everybody, this is Noelle. Noelle, my sisters from oldest to noisiest, Therese, Stephanie, Tiffany, and Tara.”

“Don't put me next to Tara in noisiness.” Tiffany, the black-haired sister, tossed her head.

Therese smiled, very like Rick, especially in the eyes and her tall, slender poise. Brown hair rippled down her back. “It's nice to meet you, Noelle.”

Stephanie sat down on the coffee table, elbows to her knees. “I'm curious what
you
can find attractive about Rick.”

He yanked the brown braid that hung down her back.

The youngest, Tara, turned eyes as blue as Morgan's to her. “So you're Rick's girlfriend?” That was the little exuberant voice.

“Mind your own business, Tara.” Rick turned her about. “And you can all clear out now.” He punctuated his words with a shove to Tara's back and waved the others through the double doors. “Go get your milk and cookies.”

“Grow up.” That from the husky voice, Stephanie.

Rick dropped to Noelle's side. “Sorry they woke you.”

She stared. “You never told me you had four sisters!”

“You never asked.”

“Well, I'd think if you came from a family of eight, it might come up now and then.” It was absurd that it hadn't.

“I'm sure Dad mentioned them when he came out.”

“I might have heard the names, but there was no context.” Of course, Rick had never been forthcoming about anything, and Morgan had other things on his mind.

“Mostly Morgan and I try to forget they ever happened. We had it so good for nine years.”

“Not true.” Noelle pushed his arm. “I saw your face when they all piled in here.”