by Sara Orwig
Luke reached over to take her right hand, turning it over to look at her knuckles. “Does your hand hurt?”
“A little, and don’t give me a lecture.”
Luke grinned. “Honor, I’m not your pa. I’m your husband, and as far as I’m concerned, Thad Wilgert probably deserved the punch you gave him. Plus the one you gave him will be more difficult to live down.”
She wiped her eyes and smiled. “It was satisfying, Luke. Pa always said a lady never strikes a gentleman or gets into a scrap, but it felt good to punch his nose.”
Luke grinned at her with a flash of his white teeth, causing creases to appear in his cheeks and a sparkle in his eyes. Suddenly she wished again that Pa had left things alone and she wasn’t married to Luke, that they could be friends and then maybe something more.
“I’ll have to remember to duck,” he said lightly. “If I hadn’t ducked yesterday, I would have been hit in the head with the bucket. I expected to turn around and find you crying, but I should have known better.”
“Don’t bring it up again. The day is too pretty for cross words, and I’ve had enough difficulty for one morning.” She lifted her face to the sun, feeling its warmth, enjoying the ride with Luke, relaxed now that they were away from town, and for a few minutes not hurting over her pa.
She glanced down and took Luke’s hand in hers. “You’re knuckles are worse than mine.”
“I hit more people,” he answered, glancing at her.
“You punched the sheriff?” she asked, feeling another surge of satisfaction. “Your patience snaps faster than Pa’s, and I’m glad.”
He chuckled, a throaty bass sound that gave her as much warmth as the sunshine. “You’re a tough woman, Honor. I think I’ve spent my last peaceful days for a long time to come.”
Her head snapped around at his words. Then she saw the devilment in his eyes as he glanced at her, and she laughed. “I hope you have, Luke. It serves you right as far as I’m concerned.”
“What did I do to deserve trouble in my life?”
“You’re causing difficulty in mine with this dreadful marriage.”
“Honor, you know damn well that was the only way to keep the ranch.”
She turned toward him, feeling a deep-running excitement. The old uncertainties she always experienced plagued her, plus uncertainty over her budding womanhood. Yet today Luke hadn’t acted like he thought less of her for her Indian heritage. If he had felt the same as Thad Wilgert about it, why would he have hit Thad and been so angry? She wondered if Luke still saw her as a child.
“Perhaps, but I don’t like it,” she commented, studying him and wondering what he really felt. “And from the way you talked the other night, you did your duty and kissed me. As far as you’re concerned, that kiss is supposed to last me six years.”
His head swung around and his green eyes narrowed as he studied her. She lifted her chin slightly and gazed coolly back at him, knowing she had tossed out a challenge. The tension crackled between them.
He pulled on the reins, wound them around the brake handle and dropped lightly to the ground. Her pulse jumped and began to drum because she didn’t know what he was going to do, but she was learning she could goad Luke into more action than she intended. His indifference was vanishing. Or if it had never been indifference, she realized suddenly, his iron control was slipping.
He strode around the wagon and looked up at her. “Get down here, Honor,” he said.
Barely able to breathe, she gripped the wagon seat. “I don’t think—”
Stepping up on a wagon wheel spoke, he reached over, his hands closing on her waist. When he swung her to the ground, her heart pounded at the look on his face. As he gazed down at her, his green eyes seemed to devour her.
“Luke—”
“I’ll kiss you, Honor, if you want me to and you don’t want to wait six years to be kissed again, but I made a promise to your pa that I’m keeping, so all kisses do is add to my torment, which you seem to enjoy.” His voice was deep and raw. As he talked, he drew her up against him, his arms tightened around her until she couldn’t get her breath.
He bent his head, his mouth covering hers, his lips warm and firm, opening hers while his tongue slid deep into her mouth then withdrew and entered again, filling her mouth with his heat and desire. Sensations swept over her, and she closed her eyes and clung to him. She wound her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his long hair, feeling his hard body fit against hers, his manhood push against her as she returned Luke’s kiss and groaned softly, relishing his touch.
He bent over her, kissing her long and passionately, shifting so his hand caressed her breast and then he nudged his leg between hers, driving all thought from his mind. Her hips moved against him, stirring new sensations that made her tighten her arms around him and moan softly with pleasure.
Finally he swung her up and gazed down at her. His breathing was ragged, his lips swollen and red. She looked down and saw the bulge in his tight pants and jerked her gaze back to his while she trembled, her lips still tingling. “Oh, Luke …”
He placed his hands on her waist and swung her up into the wagon. “My rifle is behind you. I’ll be back in a minute,” he snapped and strode away, disappearing into the trees, and she wondered if he was trying to cool down. She felt a strange longing, a burning need in her body for more of him. She had goaded him into kissing her; if that happened often, how long would it be before his control vanished? Why did he hold back? Why didn’t he love her?
Luke had said that he knew Pa wanted her to marry better someday, and he honored her father’s wishes, but she didn’t believe him. Luke was strong-willed enough that if he wanted her, he would have fought Pa, so it wasn’t that. She wound her fingers together in her lap, worried by old uncertainties over herself as a woman, wishing her mother had lived because there were some things in life Pa hadn’t been much help about.
Luke came striding back and swung up into the wagon. Just the sight of him set her pulse drumming again. She bit back a smile because she had received a fair number of kisses in just the few days she had been his wife. Whatever he felt toward her, he wasn’t as indifferent as he had always acted.
They rode in silence, and she wanted to talk to him about his feelings, but when she glanced at him, his jaw was clamped shut and he looked angry.
“Luke, what are you going to do about charges against Acheson for murdering Pa?” she finally asked after they had ridden more than a mile in silence. “Will you drop the matter?”
“No. I’ll go to San Antonio and talk to the U.S. Marshal. He won’t be able to arrest Acheson if there are witnesses to Acheson’s alibi, but at least he’ll be able to question him, and the marshal will hear what happened.”
“I’d like that.” Thinking about Acheson, she shivered. “I hope he doesn’t give us trouble, but I don’t think he will because of you and Dusty.”
“Maybe not, but if he does, then I won’t be breaking my promise to your pa if I fight back.”
“You want him to do something, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do,” Luke said, his voice grim, and she felt a ripple of satisfaction.
“I’m glad because I feel the same way. And if he ever tries to pull me off a horse again, I’ll shoot him.”
“You’re not going to ride alone, Honor.”
“Let’s not fight again, Luke. This has been a nice day. Besides, I’ve been kissed again and I rather like that,” she said.
He glanced at her, his face as fierce as a storm cloud. “Honor, you’re full of the devil!”
“At least your life won’t be tiresome this way. I’m new to kissing, while you’ve been doing it for years.”
“You’re tormenting me, Honor,” he said in a low, angry voice, and she knew she was goading him again. A muscle worked in his jaw, and his knuckles were white.
She placed her hand on his knee, the touch sending fiery tingles through her, as she looked up at him.
“Dammit,�
�� he said, tugging on the reins and turning to her to sweep her into his arms and kiss her hard and long, his tongue tangling with hers, stroking her mouth, making her heart pound again. Her hands were against his upper arms and she felt the firm bulge of muscle. His kisses made her pulse roar until she could barely hear any other sounds, and she trembled, feeling a heat low in her body, an aching need that made her want him more with each kiss. He raised his head suddenly, his green eyes blazing.
“When six years are up, we’ll dissolve this marriage and I’ll leave you,” he said, grinding out the words. “I promise you that, Honor, and you know my word is good. Do you want me to shove you down here in the grass and take you when you know I’ll leave you someday?”
She drew a deep breath, anger coming in a rush to replace the longing. She raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist and she felt the clash of wills.
“Don’t touch me and don’t kiss me!” she snapped, turning her back to him.
The team started again, and they rode in a tense silence. She hurt and realized she shouldn’t have teased Luke and pushed him. He didn’t want to be married to her and for a few minutes she had lost sight of how angry and bitter he might be about this union. Yet he would get a big part of the ranch for it—and she suspected that was why he had agreed to take her as his wife in a paper marriage.
She wiped her eyes, fighting the urge to turn around and shove him out of the wagon, then ride home without him. Knowing Luke, if she didn’t catch him completely by surprise, he would put her out of the wagon and make her walk home, so she locked her hands together in her lap and stared ahead, riding in a stony silence.
The moment he stopped at the ranch, she jumped down and hurried to the house, thankful to get away from him.
As Luke watched her walk away, he swore softly under his breath. They’d been married a little over forty-eight hours now, and his nerves were jangled and his body ached. How would he survive six stormy years with Honor? He watched the sway of her hips as she walked, the black dress swirling around her long legs, and he remembered how she had felt in his arms, how responsive she was, setting him aflame with her kisses and eagerness. He swore again and headed for the barn. She wasn’t going to be submissive or demure or shy. She tormented the hell out of him. Swearing under his breath, he shoved open the corral gate.
Working swiftly, he unhitched the team, rubbed down the horses, fed and watered them. He then went to change his clothes so he could go to work and keep his mind off Honor as much as possible.
Luke saw Dusty that evening as they both rode into the barn. He dismounted and faced Dusty. “I want to ask you the same thing Horace Roth asked me. Will you promise me you won’t take the law into your own hands?”
“I smell old fish. What happened in town?”
“Promise me, Dusty. I need your help here.” They stood looking at each other, the short, wiry foreman studying Luke intently. Luke waited, gazing back, praying Dusty would agree because he knew how the men would take the news about Acheson.
“All right, but partly for you, partly for Honor, and partly for Boss.”
“Good enough. According to Sheriff Branigan, Rake Acheson has been in San Antonio for the past four days. He has witnesses, so it’s his word against Honor’s.”
Dusty inhaled, swore, and clenched his fists. He slanted Luke a glance. “You tell me the truth now, did Acheson really hurt her?”
“No. She says he didn’t, and I believe her. Knowing Honor, I’m sure she would have fought like a wildcat, and she didn’t look that messed up when I found her.”
Dusty nodded. “Damn, I’d like to go after Acheson.”
“We all would.” Luke turned around to unfasten the saddle and lift it off. He returned, running his hands over the bay. “Dusty, she punched Thad Wilgert in town today and gave him a bloody nose.”
Dusty’s jaw dropped, then he laughed and slapped his knee. “That’s my girl! Her pa would have had a conniption fit, but I’m glad when she stands up for herself. The prissy women in town won’t ever accept her anyway.”
“Well, I’m like Boss. Don’t encourage her. She’s feisty enough as it is, but I imagine Wilgert will think twice before insulting her again. I hit him, too, but that’s different.”
Dusty chuckled. “I’d have given a month’s pay to see her bloody the banker’s stuffy son.” Dusty’s amusement faded as he studied Luke. “We’re all more vulnerable now. Horace Roth was a formidable man, and everyone in these parts knew it and stepped lightly around him because of it. Honor won’t have his protection.”
“She’ll have mine, and I’ll try to make it enough.”
“There are people in town who don’t like her Comanche blood, and they don’t hesitate to let her know. She and Jeddy have always had to endure humiliation.”
Clamping his jaw closed, Luke turned away, leading his horse to the corral while he wondered what Wilgert had said that was so terrible Honor wouldn’t repeat it.
At dawn the next morning, Luke entered Honor’s room. Her black hair was spread over the pillow and sheet, and as he walked closer to the bed he saw that the nightshirt she was wearing had slipped off one shoulder. He paused beside the bed, his heart thumping, his mouth going dry as he looked down at her. Her dark lashes were shadows on her cheeks. She was a beautiful woman, and as he remembered her warmth and softness, he longed to slide beneath the sheet with her and pull her into his arms.
“Honor,” he said quietly.
Her eyes opened as if she had been lying there awake. She turned and focused on him and frowned. “What are you doing—”
“I’m waking you and Jeddy,” he answered matter-of-factly. “The Comanche are here. They know about your pa.”
“Invite them in to eat,” she said, as she threw back the sheet and swung her long legs over the side of the bed. Luke looked down at her shapely legs that seemed to go on forever, the skin tan and smooth, inches of thigh revealed. His gaze ran up over the clinging, worn nightshirt that molded her high, thrusting breasts.
She yanked a sheet in front of her. He met her gaze and saw a strange quizzical look in her eyes. He turned abruptly, striding to the door, wiping his brow and feeling as if he were suffocating. “I’ll get Jeddy up,” he said, his voice husky.
“Luke,” she said, and he turned. She had the sheet pulled to her chin and draped over her legs. Only her trim ankles and bare feet were exposed, but even then he found it difficult to pull his gaze from her.
“Please don’t tell them Rake Acheson is the cause. They would ride on him.”
“That would be fitting, Honor.”
She shook her head. “It would stir up so much trouble for them. Soldiers would come, and men would be hurt.”
Luke knew she was right, and he nodded. “I won’t say anything about Rake, but I hate to protect him.” Luke left the room and closed the door without looking back again.
When he went downstairs, the yard was filled with warriors. He motioned to them to follow him inside, curving his fingers in toward his mouth and moving his hand in the downward motion that meant to eat, able to communicate better with sign language than with words. They entered the large kitchen, filling it and the back porch while Dolorita passed plates heaping with hot biscuits, gravy, eggs, and thick slices of beef.
Luke stood trying to converse in his halting Comanche with Tall Wind, Horace Roth’s brother-in-law, when he saw the warrior’s dark gaze go past him and he set down the plate he was holding. Honor brushed past Luke and flung her arms around Tall Wind, crying against him while he held her and softly spoke words that Luke did not understand.
After they finished eating, the warriors went outside to wait and finally, when all had gathered, Honor took Luke’s hand and Jeddy’s and went out to Tall Wind. She motioned to him to follow and glanced up at Luke. “I’m taking them to Pa’s grave.” As the silent procession wound toward the hillside, Honor stopped to pick wildflowers.
Luke held her hand, feeling her cold fingers as the
y walked the mile to the hill that overlooked the ranch house and winding Cow Creek. Luke had made a wooden cross until he could get a tombstone. The Comanche moved silently, circling the grave, and then they began to chant, their voices deep and resonant, while the sun climbed above the horizon and the pink sky changed to blue. Tears streamed down Honor’s and Jeddy’s cheeks, and Luke wiped his eyes as he watched Honor kneel to place the wildflowers on the grave. She was so slender, and yet he knew the iron strength she had inherited. Her black hair was loose, falling across her shoulders, the wind catching long strands and blowing them across her cheek.
Finally they went back to the house, where Luke gave the warriors sacks of flour and sugar and coffee beans and two steers. They mounted up and left and he stood with his arm across Honor’s shoulders. “You have a good heritage, Honor.”
“Not many townspeople think so.”
“The ones that count do. You’ll never miss being friends with Thad Wilgert.”
She smiled and turned to walk into the house. He watched her go, her hips swaying slightly, and knew that her childhood was over. She was innocent, but she was a woman now, and he hoped he was man enough to cope with her without breaking his vow to her father.
Honor moved her father’s things out of the big bedroom and Luke brought in his meager possessions. One morning three weeks later, he stood surveying the room, the four-poster rosewood bed, the large wardrobe and dresser, the bookshelves. Honor had left her father’s books and Luke had started reading a worn copy of Great Expectations. A large wardrobe held Luke’s few clothes. The mantel over the fireplace was devoid of anything. Luke had few possessions other than his horse, his revolver, and his clothing.
