Texas Proud (Vincente 2) by Constance O'Banyon Read Free Book Online Page B

every word Noble Vincente had uttered. Their questions flew fast
and furious.

    "Where has he been all these years?"
    "Is he back to stay?"
    "Did he marry that woman from Spain?"
    "Did he bring a wife home with him?"
    "Will he bring his sister back from Georgia?"
    "Do you suppose Rachel Rutledge knows he's
back?"
    Jess McVee brushed their questions aside as he
watched Noble cross the street, walking in the direction of the sheriff's office. He shivered, remembering the fierceness of those cold brown eyes. "I
wouldn't want to be the one to make him mad,"
he told the others. "You can do what you want,
but the next time he comes into my store, I'll be
more respectful."
    Harvey Briscal was slumped over the desk, almost
asleep, when he heard someone enter. He raised
his head and yawned, ill-tempered because his
nap had been interrupted. "Sheriffs not here. If
you've got business with him, come back later."
    The man was a stranger to Noble. He took note
of the man's shaggy brown hair, thin face and
hooded eyes, then looked at the deputy's star
pinned to his stained leather vest. Noble grasped
a rickety wooden chair, turned it around and
propped his booted foot on it. "If the sheriff's not
here, I'll talk to you."

    Noble watched the deputy lean forward, shaking his head to come fully awake.
    "You certainly aren't from around here,
stranger," Harvey observed. "Not one of the ranchers or cowhands I know." His sleepy gaze fastened
on Noble's crisp, white shirt and buff-colored
leather pants with a dark brown stripe down the
legs. Envy crept into his eyes as he took in the
ivory-handled six-gun that hung about Noble's
waist. It wasn't difficult to tell that this stranger
was a man of importance. "What's your name?"
Harvey asked.
    Noble's eyes were hard and probing. After the
incident with Jess McVee, he was in no mood to
suffer fools. "You first," he said forcefully. "Tell me
who you are."
    Harvey puffed out his meager chest and said
with pride, "I'm the deputy sheriff."
    Noble's lip curled in distaste. "I already guessed
that. What's your name?"
    Harvey's mouth formed a sneer. He shifted his
slight weight and straightened to his full height,
which was a head shorter than the Spaniard. He
tugged at pants that were a size too big for him,
and adjusted them about his waist. "I'll be asking
the questions here. State your business."
    Noble turned the chair around, slowly and deliberately. He then sat down and crossed his long
legs. "I'm Noble Vincente. Mr. Vincente to you."
    The deputy gawked at Noble for a moment, immediately recognizing the name. He hooked his hands about his waist because his trousers were
beginning to slip down his slender hips again. His
tone was surly when he spoke. "You're one of the
Vincentes that own Casa del Sol. I've heard of
you didn't know you'd come home, though." His
eyes gleamed like polished copper. "I've just been
here for seven months, but I recall hearing talk
that you was suspected of killing a man some
years back."

    Noble stood, towering over the man. "Be
warned, Deputy, that I've had a bad morning, and
I don't intend to waste time on an imbecil."
    Harvey looked blank. "I don't speak Mexican.
What's that im Uh, whatever you said?"
    Noble decided that there was some doubt that
the deputy spoke English. "Let's just say the term
means less than brilliant."
    Harvey's face colored with indignation. "You
can't say that to me! Just who do you think you
are?"
    Noble took a step forward, and the deputy took
a step back. "Is Crenshaw still the sheriff?"
    Harvey saw danger in Noble Vincente's swirling
dark eyes. He swallowed several times before he
said, "Y-yep. But he's getting on in years. I `spect
I'll be the sheriff soon enough."
    "God help us if that happens," Noble murmured
under his breath. "Tell Sheriff Crenshaw that I
stopped by and I'd like to see him at his convenience."
    Harvey followed Noble outside, watching him cross the street and mount his