The Men of Pride County: The Rebel (31 page)

And now he was home.

Time to put his life back on track, to put his future plans in motion. The war, the West … and all that went with it were behind him now. This was the moment he’d dreamed of as a boy, as a student far from home for the first time, on dark, dreary nights when artillery sounded like distant thunder, in a cold, lonely tent in Maryland. It’s what he told himself he wanted more than anything while restless yearnings kept him from finding sound sleep on a lonesome frontier post.

Time to make good his promises, to vindicate his name, to right wrongs he’d once been powerless to alter.

So why was he feeling so unaffected by the attainment of that lifelong goal?

He knew the answer. It was wrapped up in one name, one face. Juliet. Having this without having her was somehow less than complete.

He shook off that thought because he’d vowed not to spoil his homecoming with hints of unhappiness. He was back where he belonged, and nothing would get in the way of that reunion. He needed to see his family, to reconnect with his friends and his former life. Then he would be strong enough to deal with what he didn’t have—and perhaps rectify the situation.

He rode into the center of Pride on a rented
horse, his thrill at being back tempered by what he was afraid to find. How many of those he loved hadn’t made it home from the war or survived its devastation? Anticipation and dread knotted in his belly until there on the walk, untouched by time or trials, were figures tied so tightly to his past that it was as if four long years were stripped away.

Reeve, Patrice, and Starla, along with a man he didn’t know. They all spotted him at the same time.

He was hauled down from his rented horse and into Reeve Garrett’s familiar embrace. Having his ribs nearly crushed by his best friend brought the reality home, but it was seeing his parents soon after that made him believe it.

“Welcome back, son.”

He took the hand his father offered, giving it a firm shake. Judge Banning wasn’t the demonstrative type, but brightness glittered in his gaze.

“It’s good to be home, Judge. Mother.” He bent so that the delicate creature whose loveliness remained unfading could touch a kiss to his cheek.

“You look well, dear, so tanned and strong. The West must not have been as awful as I imagined. When I heard you were in that prison, I—” Her voice failed her.

“No more talk of what’s past,” the judge ordered. “Noble is where he belongs, and soon he will be working with me out of my office
as if these last four years never happened.”

Noble’s smile froze. But because his homecoming wasn’t the right place to discuss his plans, especially plans that went contrary to everything his father stood for, he opted to let it go.

“Is there any chance you’ve kept any of my old clothes? I’m ready to get out of this stale uniform. Actually I’m more than ready to get out of uniform altogether.”

His mother took his arm. “Of course, dear. Everything is just as you left it.”

And more so. In his absence, his mother had made his room over into a shrine. His belongings were untouched and dust-free, as if he’d been amongst them every day for the past four years. All the awards he’d earned at the university, no matter how insignificant, were framed so that they hung proudly across his wall. He looked at them and at the accumulation of a lifetime and felt as though he were a stranger, intruding upon someone else’s past. He was no longer the boy who’d won medals at church for memorizing verse to make his parents proud. He could no longer remember the debates that garnered him plaques or the horse races that brought him trophies. They seemed such a distant part of who he was now.

Civilian clothes fitted differently. After years of butternut and gray and then blue and brass, his tucked shirt with its detachable collar,
the snug silk brocade vest and loose-cut fawn-colored trousers over high-top shoes felt unnatural, almost insubordinate.

For months he’d been obsessed with the pleasure of discarding the hated army uniform and the dreadful compromises it stood for. Now that the opportunity had arisen, he studied the Union blue of his jacket but could not cast it aside with contempt. Instead, he hung it carefully in his clothes cupboard until he could have it cleaned and folded away. Another memory of a life no longer his own.

The odd sense of detachment continued as he dined that evening with his friends at Glendower Glade. He’d practically grown up on those sloping green lawns with Reeve and his half-brother Jonah. Such high ideals he’d held then. He had been the epitome of the Southern gentleman—not at all like the man who sat before a wide-eyed audience, dispassionately telling of his adventures in the West.

Reeve leaned back in his chair to muse over their twists of fate. Noble remembered him as a restless youth, always on the outside, pretending that’s where he preferred to be. But now he looked content, the master of his father’s house, the husband of the only woman he’d ever loved. As it should be.

“So you were in command of a Union fort.” Reeve smiled at the irony.

“Why didn’t you just desert and come home?” Starla Fairfax demanded. She hadn’t changed. Her impulsive nature centered on
self. The gorgeous flirt had spent their adolescent years in shameless pursuit of him. He wasn’t surprised that she’d come out of the war on top, dressed to the height of fashion, her beauty as flawless as ever. Like her brother, she seemed to have nine lives and the ability always to land on her feet. But what did surprise him was to see she’d taken a Northerner for a husband, and a banker to boot.

Hamilton Dodge had served with Reeve in the Union Army. They’d saved each other’s lives and formed an unbreakable bond that only such desperate trials could forge. He was compactly built, solid in his work ethic, vocal in his opinions, and totally different from what Noble would have thought Starla would have looked for in a husband. Completely against the strict rules of society her father insisted upon. There was a story there, one he’d pursue with interest.

Though they’d exchanged only a few words, Noble guessed that he and the little banker would get along just fine. Reeve had good instincts about people. And Noble could see the sharp intelligence and innate honesty in one who’d be a future ally within the narrow fold of Pride.

His answer to Starla’s question wasn’t simple. It was a question he’d asked himself a million times, one he’d heard from his men, one echoed in his conscience.

Why hadn’t he just deserted and come home?

“Because I’d given my word, Star, to the former commander, to his men, and to those children taken captive by the Apache. I couldn’t just ride away from those promises and live with myself.”

“Even if none of them was your responsibility?” Clearly, she didn’t understand. But suddenly, he had a very clear picture of his own motivation.

“It was my responsibility because I was in a position to make a difference, and folks were looking to me to do just that. You can’t have personal honor if you run away from those challenges just to make it easier on yourself or even on those you care for.”

“I hear the lawyer talking.”

He smiled at Reeve’s indulgent comment and nodded. “I’d never once thought I’d be wearing a Yank uniform proudly, but when I led that patrol that rescued those little children and another white captive from the Indians, it was one of the finest moments of my life. I was glad to be released from duty when the war ended, but I felt no shame in having served with those men and I hope they felt none serving under me.”

It was true. He knew it then. What he’d accomplished out on the frontier had done more for molding his character than any fancy school, than any past of privilege. It had taught him humility, pride and … and love. And all of those things together would forever shape the man he’d become: a man who would finish
what he started, a man who’d learned to put others ahead of himself, a man who knew the benefit of belonging to a unit. A man who, despite having all those things, was still miserably alone even back where he belonged, even surrounded by his family and friends.

He thought he’d done a good job of concealing his sense of isolation, but amazingly, it was self-centered Starla Fairfax Dodge who picked up on his inner pain and cornered him about it as he gave her a ride back into town.

Don’t give up on love so soon. It’ll find you when you least expect it
, she’d said.

He was terribly afraid that he had found it and it had already given up on him.

He wanted nothing more than to devote the evening to consideration of her statement. But his father had waited up for him with a cigar and a brandy and the discussion he’d hoped to avoid.

There was nothing but fondness and pride in his father’s regard as they relaxed in the judge’s study. Noble had no fear that either of those things would change, no matter what he said or did, but still he was reluctant to hurt the man who’d given him so much support.

“You were out at the Glade, I understand.”

A neutral topic with hard-to-decipher undertones playing about it.

“I had dinner with Reeve, Patrice, Starla, and her new husband.”

“The banker.”

“Yes.” Trouble there, Noble could tell.

“I’m not one to tell you whom to associate with, but you might want to heed public opinion in this instance. Garrett and his Yank friend aren’t exactly well received.”

“They will be by me, Judge. If you’re saying I can’t invite them here—”

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying at all.” Of course it was. “This is your home and it’s always open to your—friends. Only were I you, and jus’ starting out, I’d be a bit careful with whom I ally myself.”

“I don’t plan to ally myself with anyone. I’m a lawyer, remember. I owe my loyalty to my client of the moment.”

The judge mulled that over for a minute, re-clipping the end of his cigar to show his displeasure over the turn of conversation. Finally, he said, “Let’s talk business.”

Noble took a long drink and waited.

“Now that you’re home, it’s time I set you up with your own office and staff. No need to scramble around, digging up customers who couldn’t pay enough to put new buttons on your coat. I’ve got enough work to keep you hopping for the better part of the year and I’m willing to set up a generous retainer. I wouldn’t let any fancy city lawyers handle things for me. Told ’em I was waiting for my son to come home to take care of my interests. There’s a building next to Sadie’s that would make a nice home for your lawyering shingle. Your mama had it engraved as a surprise.”

He presented the nameplate with a grin,
knowing how it would manipulate his son’s emotions.

Noble Banning, Attorney-at-Law

Noble ran his fingertips over the recessed gold lettering the way a blind man would read. His voice was thick when he spoke at last.

“This is wonderful, sir. I’ll hang it with pride.”

And just as the judge started grinning wider, Noble clipped his expectations.

“But when I do, it’ll be on my own office, not yours. I appreciate you wanting to give my career a boost, but we’ve discussed this before. I want to do it on my own, Judge, without having to make any compromises down the road.”

Judge Banning’s air of self-congratulation faded. “You don’t want to taint your business with mine, is that it?”

“Judge, we don’t see eye-to-eye on the way things should be, that’s for sure. And because you matter so much to me, I can’t allow that to come between us.”

The judge stared at him for a long, gauging minute. Then his smile returned. “Very prettily said. Are you sure you don’t want to be a politician?”

“I couldn’t stand the constant strain on my moral conscience.”

The judge laughed and put out his hand. “Welcome to Pride, son. You’ll do a booming business here ‘cause everybody thinks they’re
above the law and conscience doesn’t enter into it. We’re gonna need somebody as incorruptible as you to dig us out of our own messes.”

Noble took his father’s hand, relieved that for now things were resolved between them. “The voice of reason crying out in the wilderness.”

“Jus’ try to make me listen to it once in a while.”

As he lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling upon which he’d painted the constellations as a child, Noble began to put his life in order. Firstly, he’d check on the building rents. Then he needed a place to live. He knew he’d always be welcomed within his parents’ home, but he feared conflict of interest would arise sooner rather than later if he were to stay. Better he should claim his business and his personal independence at the same time.

Then he’d need clients. The money he’d set aside to begin his career wouldn’t last forever, especially at the inflated postwar prices.

Staying neutral wouldn’t be as easy as he’d made it sound to his father. He knew there were distinct factions in Pride. He could go with his father, which was where the money would be, or he could invest his time and energy for much less financial reward in the people of the county. It didn’t take him a long while to decide which way he would go.

The wealthy men like his father didn’t need
his representation. They were the ones the town needed to be protected against. And once he started down that path, he knew there’d be no turning back. While he’d hope he could retain a relationship with his family, he had to realize that might not be possible. It was a matter of loyalty over conscience. Nothing new there. He wasn’t the only one being forced into that dilemma in this tumultuous world they’d created. But he wouldn’t back away from it, either.

With his business intentions settled, there remained only one unfinished matter. What was he going to do about his personal affairs?

There was one thing his friends were good for. Their worth was measured in the value of their advice.

The next day he sat on the Glade’s wide stone steps feeling the cool Kentucky breeze against his skin. Beside him sat the philosophical Reeve Garrett. Noble broached his subject cautiously.

“You and Patrice look happily settled in together.”

“It’s a fine institution, marriage. One I can highly recommend even to my most gun-shy friends.” He laughed at the look Noble gave him, then asked, “What’s her name?”