His Forbidden Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 7)

by Merry Farmer

  Honoria pressed a hand to her stomach. A moment later, she burst into coughing. That forced her to step back, but she’d already seen everything she needed to see and knew the consequences. Solomon only had so much cash on hand. If everyone who had deposited their money with him came in and demanded to withdraw everything, it was only a matter of time before the bank ran out of ready cash.

  “It can’t be as bad as all that,” she whispered, resting a hand on Solomon’s shoulder. “My father only has so many ranch hands, and he doesn’t pay them that much.”

  But she underestimated how far her father would go for revenge. The first wave of his ranch hands came and went, leaving the bank over four hundred dollars poorer. For a moment, everything settled. But within an hour, one of the smaller ranchers whose land adjoined the Bonneville ranch came in and demanded his entire savings of six hundred dollars. Not even an hour had gone by, and suddenly the bank was in real danger of running out of money.

  “Well,” Solomon commented grimly as he and Mr. Greeley quickly counted the bank’s cash on hand after the rancher left, “you’re certainly learning all about banking this morning.”

  Honoria couldn’t tell if he was joking. It was hardly the time to joke.

  “Maybe we should invest in building that vault so we can keep more money on hand after all,” Mr. Greeley sighed. He counted the last bill and added, “Three hundred and six dollars.”

  “We might be able to make it.” Solomon rubbed his jaw.

  The front door opened, and a grumpy-looking tradesman stomped in. “I want to withdraw my money.”

  Solomon and Mr. Greeley exchanged a look as Mr. Greeley took another withdrawal slip from its cubby. “We might have to close the bank early,” he mumbled.

  Solomon shook his head. “We absolutely can’t. That’s what Rex wants. Closing the bank early will damage its reputation and open the way for investigation by state authorities. We have to remain open at all costs.”

  “But if you run out of cash?” Honoria whispered.

  “Give me my money now.” The tradesman banged on the counter, prompting Mr. Greeley to move faster, his hands shaking.

  Solomon took Honoria’s arm and drew her away from the counter. “I guess you were right to be worried,” he said with a grim smile. “But you were anxious about the wrong thing. There are more ways to hurt a man than physically.”

  Honoria’s stomach sank. He was partially right. She still wouldn’t put it past her father to murder Solomon for marrying her. “What can you do?” she asked.

  Solomon leaned back, rubbing his face and sighing. Honoria could practically see his thoughts spinning, and see that he didn’t like the conclusion he came to. He grimaced, growled at the back of his throat, then said, “I need you to run over to Howard’s office. It’s his day to be in town instead of at his ranch. That’s probably why Cody and Mason are here.”

  Relieved to have something to do, Honoria nodded quickly. “What should I say?”

  Solomon’s wince grew, as if swallowing something bitter. “Ask how much cash he can loan me.”

  Hope flooded through Honoria as she saw where he was going. “Do you think he has enough?”

  “If anyone does, it’s Howard.”

  She nodded. “Right. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

  She turned to rush off, then at the last moment swung back to Solomon. Heart bursting with pride and something far more tender, she lifted to her toes and kissed him square on the lips. That managed to bring a wistful smile to his face. It was all she could ask for. She whirled away and dashed for the counter and out through the gate.

  Howard Haskell’s office was part of the town hall complex. He’d built it a few years after Haskell’s founding, and had modeled the whole thing on the Capitol Building in Washington D.C. It was a slightly ridiculous piece of grandeur for a small, frontier town, but as Honoria lifted her skirts to rush up the steps, she was comforted by its grandness. Surely someone who had used their own money to finance such an elaborate project would be able to help a friend in trouble.

  “Honoria?” Howard glanced up from his desk as Honoria dashed into his office. The door was always open, and Howard didn’t believe in having a secretary or anyone to keep people out, even though he was mayor. “What brings you here this morning?”

  “It’s Solomon,” she panted, clutching a hand to her chest to catch her breath. “There’s trouble at the bank,”

  She explained as fast as she could, only hesitating when it came to asking Howard to bring as much cash as he could to the bank as quickly as possible. Howard listened with grave attention. He didn’t seem at all surprised, but luckily for her and for Solomon, he didn’t balk at the request for help either.

  “I’d say we’re all fortunate that I haven’t gotten around to making this deposit yet,” he said, rising from his desk and crossing the room to a closet.

  Honoria tip-toed after him. She felt a little awkward to stand there and watch as he worked the combination on a small safe tucked in the back of the closet, but her awkwardness melted into relief as he took out a fat handful of bills.

  “We’ll take this to him right away and deposit it so that everything looks aboveboard,” he explained, tucking the bills into a pocket inside of his jacket. The pile was so large that he could only fit so much in the pocket. The rest he stuffed into his trousers. Under the circumstances, Honoria didn’t think Solomon would mind. “This is all I have on hand, though,” Howard continued, striding over to take Honoria’s arm and lead her back out to the hall and on outside. “If your father pulls out all the stops, we could be in more trouble.”

  They hurried back to the bank only to find two more small ranchers had come in to make withdrawals. Honoria had never seen anything like the relief on Solomon’s face when she and Howard walked through the doors.

  “Pardon me, gentlemen, I have a deposit to make,” Howard boomed with all of his good-natured joviality, pushing his way in front of the ranchers.

  Howard had brought over three thousand dollars in cash with him. Honoria could hardly believe her eyes as Mr. Greeley counted it all out and tucked it safely into the cash drawer. She had never thought higher than twenty or occasionally fifty dollars at a time for purchases. Suddenly working with such huge sums of cash made her head spin and her heart pound. But both Solomon and Howard seemed used to it.

  “What do you plan to do if that isn’t enough?” Howard murmured to Solomon, meeting him at the far end of the counter near the gate as the ranchers made their withdrawals.

  Solomon sighed, pushing a hand through his short hair. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll have to liquidate some of my investments.”

  Howard nodded grimly. “Gunn will be able to help.”

  “But only so much,” Solomon answered. “And everything depends on how far Bonneville’s influence extends.” He sent a sideways look to Honoria.

  She felt it as if he’d pierced her with an arrow. “This is all my fault.” She stepped up to the gate, heart bleeding.

  “Nonsense!” Howard boomed.

  “You know it isn’t.” Solomon slipped his arm around her, drawing her closer. “Your father has had it in for me for years. At best, you’re the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “I would give anything for it not to break at all,” she said, laying a hand on his chest.

  Solomon smiled and kissed her lightly. “And I wouldn’t change a single thing we’ve done in the last week.”

  The sudden, powerful urge to tell Solomon that she loved him—not just temporarily or for pretend—swept through Honoria. The idea was scandalous, shameless. She couldn’t go loving a man who she’d married for convenience and who she would leave all too soon, and it was better for him if he didn’t develop any feelings for her beyond affectionate friendship. If she could have taken things back, she would have spared him even feeling too much affection for her.

  “Well, there is one bit of luck we can be thankful for,” Howard interrupted her
heart’s anguish.

  “What’s that?” she asked, then cleared her throat and stepped a reasonable distance away from her husband.

  Howard gave her a lopsided smile. “Your father doesn’t do his banking here.”

  “He doesn’t?” Her brow rose in surprise.

  “No,” Solomon said with a huge measure of relief in his voice, as if he too was just realizing how lucky he was. “Like I said, he’s had it in for me for years, so he takes his money all the way to Everland, to their bank.”

  “And since that amount is likely considerable, he can’t ruin you by withdrawing it all at once.”

  Honoria let out a breath. “That is fortunate.”

  But just because he didn’t do his banking at Solomon’s bank didn’t mean he wouldn’t show his face there. An hour or so later, after Howard had gone back to work and the rush of men coming in to withdraw their funds had slowed, Rex himself strode through the bank doors.

  Honoria was on high alert the moment she heard his sharp tenor say, “Well, if this isn’t a sorry sight, I don’t know what is.”

  She’d only just come back from the hotel, where she’d gone to fetch Solomon lunch, knowing she wouldn’t have time to learn to cook something herself. They were halfway through the meal, but at the sound of her father’s voice, Honoria lost her appetite.

  “The criminal and his victim sitting down to a cozy meal together,” Rex went on.

  Honoria and Solomon both stood. Honoria rushed toward him first. “I know what you did here, Papa.”

  “Of course you do.” Rex shrugged. “I make no secret of the fact that I’ve spread the story of this ape’s misdeeds throughout the county.” Solomon strode up to stand protectively behind Honoria, but Rex went on. “I freely admit that I encouraged them to withdraw their funds from this sorry excuse for a bank.”

  “How could you, Papa?” Honoria wasn’t sure if she was more heartbroken or angry.

  He didn’t answer her. He barely looked at her. Instead, he turned a smug grin on Solomon. “I expect you’ll be forced to close your doors early. The Wyoming Stock Growers Association won’t look too kindly on that.”

  Honoria’s heart stopped in her chest. Solomon scowled. Everyone in Wyoming knew that, while there was a fine government in place in Cheyenne, it was really the WSGA that ran the show in the state. The government was merely a puppet for the WSGA getting what they wanted. And no one regulated the WSGA but themselves.

  “As it happens,” Solomon answered with cool calm, his back straight, “the bank has been able to fulfill every withdrawal request we’ve had. We will not be closing early.”

  Rex’s grin faltered. “What?”

  “Everyone has been given their money,” Honoria answered. “This plan of yours won’t work.” She wasn’t sure what prompted her to say the last bit, but she was glad she did. It actually felt good to stand up to her father.

  “We’ll see about that,” Rex growled. At last, his gaze turned to Honoria. “I’m giving you one last chance,” he said, eyes narrowed. “Come home at once.”

  “No, Papa.”

  His scowl darkened. “Don’t you disobey me, you ungrateful chit. Come home at once! Leave this ridiculous villain and come back to where you belong.”

  “No,” Honoria answered again. She took a step closer to Solomon, reaching for his hand. “Solomon is my husband.”

  “He is not,” Rex sneered. “He’s a colored fool who seems to have forgotten that it’s illegal to marry a white woman.”

  “Not in Haskell, it’s not,” Honoria fired back.

  “What kind of life do you plan to have?” Rex shouted. “You take one step outside of this ludicrous town and the authorities will arrest him and drag him to the nearest tree so fast that he won’t have time to blubber out a prayer to save him.”

  “You overestimate the number of people who share your antiquated ideas in this part of the country,” Solomon answered. But there was enough tension in his voice and body for Honoria to sense that her father was right to some extent.

  The only thing he was wrong about was to ask what kind of a life she planned to have. She had no life in front of her at all. That was the only thing that kept her from crumpling in misery over the position she’d put Solomon in.

  “I’m not returning to your ranch with you,” she said to fight off the twin waves of gloom and heartache that attacked her. “Solomon’s home is my home now, and I will stay with him until the end.”

  Her father missed the important part of her declaration—the end. He glared at her, jaw clenched. His expression turned deadly as he glanced to Solomon. “So be it,” he growled. “I know what I have to do.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he whipped around and stormed out of the bank. Honoria didn’t feel an ounce of relief as he left. The opening salvos had been fired. The war was on.

  Chapter 9

  There were only so many things a bank could do to protect itself from its own customers if they wanted to withdraw their funds.

  “The railroad stocks sold quickly,” Solomon reported as Honoria lay in bed with him several days later. “I hate to see them go, though. They were some of the fastest-growing stocks I had.”

  “Will you be able to buy them up again when the crisis passes?” Honoria asked. She curled against his side, one leg stretched over his, tracing small circles on his bare chest as her head rested on his shoulder. The question she really wanted to ask was “Will it be enough?”

  “Oh, I’ll be able to buy just about everything back again,” he replied, running his fingertips along her bare arm. “But at what price, I don’t know. Part of the brilliance of some of those investments was catching them when the price of the stock was incredibly low. I won’t get nearly as much for my money when I repurchase things, if I can.”

  She wouldn’t have been worried but for the last three words. That was the worst of it. Obviously, her father was working hard in the background, although he hadn’t been seen in town for nearly five days. More distant ranchers and cowboys who had trusted Solomon just a short time of go had streamed in to withdraw their money. Solomon had managed not to shut his doors early once during those days, though it was a small blessing that two of those days were Saturday and Sunday, when the bank was closed anyhow. Now it was Monday morning, and the bank would open its doors once more with a much-needed Western Union delivery of cash from the sale of some of Solomon’s stocks.

  As much of a relief as those sales were, Honoria wasn’t foolish enough to think her father wasn’t already planning his next move.

  She shifted to prop herself above Solomon, knees resting on either side of his hips, her honey-blonde hair falling forward to pool on the dark skin of his chest. “I’ve been thinking that perhaps there’s something else I can do, in a small way, to help you.”

  Solomon grinned up at her, brushing his fingertips across her cheek. “You’re already doing far more to help me than you know.” He followed up his comment by smoothing his hands down her sides, pulling the sheets down with them. He cupped her backside, his fingers seeking out the part of her that was already hot and aching for him. The contrast of her body’s heat and the cool air of morning kissing her skin where he’d tugged the sheet away made it difficult for her to think. She adored the way he sparked the fire within her with such bold, intimate touches.

  Still, she held it together long enough to say, “I thought I might ask Wendy Montrose if I could go to work at her dress shop.”

  Solomon paused his ministrations, his hands covering her backside, and raised an eyebrow. His surprise softened to a smile that was as sensual as his touch. “You don’t need to go to work to support me.” His tone was almost laughing.

  “It wouldn’t only be for that reason,” she went on, gasping as his fingers delved into the cleft between her legs, sending pleasure shooting through her. “Remember, I said I wanted to make beautiful things to be remembered by. Dresses are beautiful, and I’m quite good at making them.” The words flittered
out of her mind almost as soon as they were spoken as she arched her back so that she could rub her tightened nipples against his chest.

  “I think we’re making something beautiful right here, right now,” he replied in a low rumble.

  Any further argument was utterly forgotten as he lifted his hips and guided himself inside of her. Honoria was surprised by the reversal of positions—her on top, him beneath her. She caught on to the rhythm that was needed to find pleasure that way, though, and the next twenty minutes were spent lost in wild abandon.

  Making love didn’t solve the underlying problem, though. As Honoria and Solomon ate a hurried breakfast to make up for the time they’d lost enjoying each other’s company, Solomon finally said, “If sewing for Wendy is something you honestly want to do, for your own satisfaction and not just for me, then by all means, do it.”

  “Really?” Honoria whirled around from where she had been putting the last of the breakfast things away and flung herself into his arms. “Oh, Solomon. No one has ever let me have my way like this before. You make me so happy.”

  She kissed him soundly before she could check to see if the hint about her miserable past had registered in his expression. Solomon wrapped his arms around her and indulged in the kiss. So much so that by the time he leaned back to take a breath, they were both hot and panting.

  “This is not a good indicator of whether I’ll be able to get the bank opened on time.”

  Honoria laughed at the teasing. The fact that he could tease in the midst of so much trouble lifted her spirits. “I’ll go speak to Wendy right away. If she’ll have me, I want to start working today. If not…”

  “Any woman anywhere in this country would be honored to have you sewing for them,” he said before she could go on.