Comanche Temptation

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Comanche Temptation Page 18

by Sara Orwig


  “You can’t ride over there if you want to live. Not unless all of us go. Dammit.” Luke shifted, staring toward the south and the Acheson land. “If Acheson did something, he won’t hide it. He’ll enjoy letting me know—” Luke’s gaze returned to Dusty. “I’ll ride our south boundary. You send someone to town to look for him.” Dusty nodded and turned to mount. “Dusty, where’s Honor?”

  “She’s with Willie and Hank. I was with them most of the morning. They know to keep her in sight.”

  Luke nodded, thankful all the hands that worked at the H Bar R had been there a long time. All had known and worked for Horace Roth. Luke had worked with them daily and he trusted them. He wound through the mesquite, urging his bay forward, feeling a tight knot of worry, remembering Enrique’s swearing after he had asked Luke what the marshal finally decided.

  Two hours later Dusty and José joined Luke and then split up, riding back and forth along the Acheson-Roth boundary. As Luke rode into a canyon, he followed Rim Creek, winding through brush and mesquite beneath yellow leaves of cottonwoods. Then the canyon narrowed, limestone sides growing steep. At the base of a sheer side of the canyon wall, half-hidden by a mesquite, Luke noticed a boot.

  Twelve

  Aware he was unarmed, Luke glanced around, a coldness coming over him as he dismounted. His spurs jingled slightly with each step on the sandy canyon floor. A jay’s shrill whistle was the only other sound. Luke pushed through brush and drew a deep breath, at first unable to tell who it was. But then he saw the familiar silver belt buckle Enrique always wore.

  Enraged and sick, Luke fired three shots into the air, a signal to Dusty and José, then he turned away, his stomach heaving at the cutting they had done on Enrique.

  It was two hours before they got the body back to the ranch house. While José dug a grave yards from Horace Roth’s, Luke and Dusty hammered a coffin. By the time everyone returned from work, Luke announced they would all ride up on the hill and bury Enrique. Honor and Jeddy were riding with Hank, and Luke kept watching for them to appear. He dreaded telling Honor, knowing it would be one more hurt, a death of someone she loved coming too soon after the violent death of her father. And both caused by the same man.

  Luke clenched his fists, staring to the south, hating the promise he had given Horace Roth, wondering if Roth himself would have kept such a promise under the same conditions. And then he heard horses and his gaze swung to the west as Honor and Jeddy and Hank rode toward the barn. “Here they come,” he said to no one in particular, but Dusty was standing close enough to hear him and he turned.

  “Dammit,” Dusty swore. “This is going to hurt both of them. Dolorita’s all torn up. Enrique was her sister’s son, and Dolorita is the one who brought him up here to work.”

  While Jeddy led his horse into the corral, Honor dismounted and came forward. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were bright with color. “What happened to him?” She looked from Dusty to Luke while men clustered around them. Luke could hear the pain in her voice and again swore silently at Acheson, wondering when she had learned about Enrique.

  “Go get your pa’s Bible. I’ll explain it to you later,” Luke said, hoping she wouldn’t fight him. Her mouth opened, and she stared at him, then she closed her lips, brushing past him. As soon as she was out of earshot, Luke gazed at the men who had gathered as well as the ones who had just ridden up.

  “We found Enrique’s body near the Acheson boundary. I can’t prove anything, and I promised Horace Roth that we would not take the law into our own hands. I hope you’ll honor that as well because we don’t have anything to gain by losing more of you. If either Jeddy or my wife rides with you, don’t let them get off alone.”

  “Boss—” Dusty said, and Luke broke off, turning to see Honor striding toward him with Dolorita who was wiping her eyes. Jeddy came from the corral to stand with the men, and Luke realized Jeddy was growing up fast, riding with the men every day during the past week, having to face the loss of his father and now of a man who had been a friend.

  As Honor came toward him, Luke went to her and draped his arm around her, giving her shoulder a tight squeeze. They turned toward the hill and men moved aside as they led the way. Dusty and several men picked up the coffin, and the silent procession wound up to the hill. At the fresh grave site, they circled the open grave in silence, each man removing his hat.

  “Honor, would you read something for us?” Luke asked quietly. Honor opened the Bible, her clear voice carrying in the quiet, a slight breeze tugging tendrils of her dark hair. Luke said a few words and gave a prayer, then they lowered the wooden coffin into the new grave.

  When they went back to the house, Jeddy went with Dolorita to the kitchen. Luke heard Jeddy sob and Dolorita’s soft voice murmuring to him. His gaze shifted to Honor because she had to have heard Jeddy. As they walked down the hall, Luke took Honor’s arm and pulled her into the parlor and closed the door. He crossed the room to pour two glasses of brandy, handing one to her.

  She drank part of hers, coughed and blinked, and then studied him. “It was Rake who killed him, wasn’t it?”

  “There’s no way to prove it. Honor, you’re not to ride alone because it’s not safe.” She lifted her chin, her dark eyes flashing with fire, and Luke tried to curb his temper, reminding himself that he had seen what they had done to Enrique and she hadn’t.

  “I usually ride with Dusty, but if I want to leave him, this is my home, Luke, and I’ll do as I please.” She set down the empty glass and turned to leave the room.

  He crossed to her in three long strides and caught her before she reached the door, hauling her around to face him. “You’re not to ride alone and if it means I have to tie your wrist to mine I will. They cut him up badly, Honor. Do you want me to describe it for you?”

  She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes, and he hated himself for saying the words aloud. She tried to turn away as tears spilled over her cheeks. But Luke hauled her into his embrace, holding her tightly, feeling her stiff resistance and hurting for her for so many reasons.

  “Honor—” He broke off because there was nothing he could say to console her. He stroked her head, and suddenly she relaxed against him, crying silently.

  “Dammit, stop fighting your hurt. Go ahead and cry,” he said, fighting back his own tears. “He was important to all of us. He deserves some tears shed over him,” Luke said roughly, wishing he could shelter her and protect her and knowing he was doing just the opposite most of the time.

  She clung to him for a moment, and sobbed. As she began to quiet, she wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “Luke, someone has to stop Rake Acheson—”

  Luke’s arms tightened around her and alarm made his voice gruff. “That’s what Enrique tried to do. He didn’t like Rake getting away with killing your father, and he went alone to get revenge. Honor, you made a promise you have to keep. And I made promises I have to keep, and one of them was to take care of you. If you had seen the body, you wouldn’t think of riding alone, and I’m not going to let you or Jeddy!”

  The sadness and the tears filling her eyes were gone. Her small jaw was thrust out slightly, and Luke felt a sinking in the pit of his stomach. He had no desire to spend every working hour worrying about Honor’s safety. He shook her, his temper soaring. “You’re not to ride alone, and that’s the end of it.”

  He strode past her to the kitchen, trying to control his temper. Dolorita was cooking dinner, her eyes puffy. Jeddy sat at the table eating a cinnamon bun. Luke crossed the room to pat her shoulder and a shudder ran through her as she covered her face with her handkerchief.

  “You go on to your house, Dolorita. Honor and I can get our supper. It looks like to me it’s almost ready anyway.”

  She shook her head. “I stay because it is better to keep busy.”

  Luke placed a large kettle of water on the stove and added wood to the fire. “Honor and Jeddy both will want a bath.” Luke paused to stare out the window into the dark night, remembering Enrique
, wanting to round up all the men to ride to Acheson’s and confront him in a showdown and knowing he couldn’t.

  Dinner was quiet, and afterward Jeddy went to his room with a book beneath his arm. Honor left for her room, and Luke went to Horace Roth’s office to pen a letter to Marshal Weitzman. But he soon tore it up because he decided to go to San Antonio in person and tell the marshall about Enrique.

  Luke pushed back his chair from the desk and crossed the room to pour himself some brandy. Images of what was left of Enrique plagued him, and he downed the fiery drink swiftly and poured another glass, knowing he would not sleep.

  The next morning as he went to the corral, he saw Honor talking to Dusty, both of them ready to ride. She raised her chin and turned her head, urging her horse forward and ignoring Luke. Jeddy joined them, and Dusty nodded at Luke.

  “Morning, Boss.”

  “I hope today is better than yesterday.”

  “Don’t worry about them. I won’t let either one of them out of my sight. She’ll calm down, and she’s worried about her brother, so she’ll stick with him, and he sticks with me.”

  “Dusty, I know Acheson wants her.”

  “She’s as beautiful as her mother, and she’s some woman,” Dusty said, studying Luke. “And she’s had too damned many hurts,” he added bitterly, and Luke wondered if everyone on the ranch hated him for his treatment of Honor. “I’ll keep them in sight. Acheson isn’t going to get her while I’m alive,” Dusty added. He turned his roan, riding to catch up with Honor and Jeddy.

  They fell into a routine where Honor kept to herself as much as possible, remote and aloof, riding with Dusty, eating quietly with Luke, and going to her room as soon as supper was finished. Luke knew that was best for both of them and left her alone, still aching, spending sleepless nights thinking about her, tossing and turning while he dreamed about her.

  On a chilly day near the first of December, Luke was driving some strays toward the barn when he caught sight of a lone rider. In seconds he recognized the long black braid and the straight back of Honor. His temper soared as he thought about how close they were to the south boundary of the ranch.

  He forgot the strays and urged his horse ahead, determined to catch her. In seconds she looked over her shoulder at him and waved, then urged her horse to a gallop. Luke’s anger rose a notch and he kicked his heels, urging the bay faster.

  In minutes he raced alongside Honor in a dangerous run over rough ground. She leaned over her horse and Luke suspected she was enjoying herself. They reached a level range and raced across it into hilly country. Luke finally reached across to tug on her horse’s reins. The black horse slowed and Luke swept Honor off the horse, placing her in front of him.

  She struggled silently to break free and he reined in, swinging his leg over his horse and dropping to the ground, pulling her down.

  She landed on her feet and quickly turned to get away from him. He caught her shoulders, trying to pull her back. “Come here, Honor.”

  “I’ll do as I please,” she snapped, struggling with him. She kicked, he sidestepped, and then took a step forward to pin her arms to her sides. He stepped on a rock, and she threw her weight against him causing them both to fall down.

  Swearing, Luke rolled her so he was on top, pinning her arms to the ground and straddling her. “Dammit, stop fighting me!”

  He looked down at her blazing dark eyes as she struggled beneath him. Her coat had fallen open and her full breasts strained against a chambray shirt. His gaze caught hers and held; both of them breathing fast. As he looked into her eyes, the moment changed. Desire exploded in him like a dam breaking. He leaned down and she watched him, her eyes widening, her black pupils as wide as cat’s eyes in the night. She started to turn her head away, but his mouth covered hers hard, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, sliding over the silky wet inside of her lips, withdrawing and entering again.

  He heard her sob, felt her resistance replaced by a fire that matched his. She fought him with her arms and body, struggling to break free, but her tongue was in his mouth, kissing him in return.

  He shifted, so his body covered hers, his hard shaft pressed against her, his weight pinning her to the ground. Her arms came around his neck and she clung to him, kissing him wildly while his pulse roared in his ears, and he felt as if he had been set aflame. He moved slightly to have access to her, his hand yanking open her shirt, sliding beneath the soft chambray and shift to touch her breast, to circle and tease the bud that was already taut and pressing into his palm.

  Caution was a dim warning in the far reaches of his mind, overridden by desire and a longing for her that had built over years. With a growl he yanked open her shirt, cupping her breast, watching her as his hand circled the soft mound. He leaned forward to take her nipple in his mouth, to flick his tongue over it. Her eyes were squeezed tightly closed, her small white teeth biting into her lower lip as she gasped and arched beneath him.

  She was forbidden to him, unattainable, and no matter how much he wanted her, he would have to go out of her life completely someday. The thought tore through him because she was fire and honey, so much woman, still having a sweet purity and devotion that she would bestow on someone.

  “Luke,” she whispered, running her hands over him and he shuddered. He ached from too many nights of wanting her, of dreaming about her. Yet she was as unreachable as a star.

  With an effort of will he raised his head to look down at her while her eyes slowly opened. She studied him a moment, and color flooded her face. She pushed against him.

  She could see the rejection in his eyes, knew he was going to move away and be as indifferent as ever, and it hurt more than ever before. Her fury rose that he would be so cavalier with her and yet so cold. “Leave me alone, Luke McCloud. Pa didn’t intend to sell you my soul!”

  “No, but he intended I take care of you and Jeddy, and that includes seeing to it that Rake Acheson doesn’t get his hands on you again.”

  “You’re not going to stop me doing what I want on my own land.”

  “I’m going to try, Honor. Mount up, and I’ll ride back with you.”

  Straightening her clothes she mounted and turned to move ahead, her chin high, wishing she could outrun him or outfight him but knowing both were impossible. Moments came when she longed to ride to town and annul this marriage that was keeping her in constant turmoil, but every time she was tempted, she had only to think about Uncle Stanton and Aunt Lavinia. Uncle Stanton would take the H Bar R, and she and Jeddy would be far worse off. And Jeddy had no struggles with Luke. She knew her brother was growing to love Luke, to rely on him and watch him, to share confidences with him. Sometimes she suspected Jeddy felt closer to Luke than he had to Pa.

  She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Luke riding yards behind her, a smoldering look in his eyes that she couldn’t fathom. Was he angry? Or was it sheer desire that made him look so fierce.

  She remembered his kisses and felt her face flush again, her body responding to her thoughts. Luke had been rough and demanding, as if his cool control had completely vanished, and she wished he hadn’t regained it. Yet she knew if she ever let him possess her, she would give him her heart, her loyalty, her love from the depths of her being. She would be crushed when it wasn’t returned—or worse—when he left her. And she knew the day would come when Jeddy would inherit. Then Luke would have the marriage annulled and set her free, whether she wanted to be or not.

  She looked down at her hands, uncertainty plaguing her. When they reached the house, she wheeled around. “I’m home now and I’m staying, so you can go on your way.”

  “Damned right you’re staying, and I’m going back out to work. I can’t work and keep up with you, Honor.”

  She dismounted and led her horse into the corral. Luke followed and suddenly his arms were around her. He lifted her up, carrying her easily as he closed the corral gate and strode toward the house.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I warned
you not to ride alone. I’m not going back out to work and worry every second where you are.”

  Wind buffeted them and she shivered, fury making her forget the cold. “Put me down.”

  “I will put you down in your room. You’re staying there even if I have to tie you to the bed.”

  “No, you won’t! I’ll—”

  “You won’t do anything, Honor,” he snapped.

  She glared at him as he strode through the kitchen without a word to Dolorita. He went straight to Honor’s room and set her on her feet.

  “Don’t you lock me in here!”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Dolorita can bring you something to eat.” He leaned forward, and she realized how tall Luke was and how imposing he could be when he was angry. His strange green eyes were as dark as a winter pond, and a muscle worked in his jaw. She knew it was useless to fight him about riding alone.

  “Would you want Jeddy riding alone?”

  “No,” she said, closing her eyes a moment. “I won’t ride alone.”

  “No, you won’t. And you don’t go out a window or the next time I will tie you in here.” He turned away and left the room, locking the door behind him, then striding down the hall to the kitchen.

  Luke was burning with anger, suffering a deeper running current of frustration. He ached because of the wild kisses they had exchanged, and he was worried what Honor would do as soon as he left.

  “Is Honor hurt?” Jeddy asked, thrusting his head into the hall from the library.

  “No. We’ve had a disagreement, and I brought her home. I don’t want either one of you riding alone because it isn’t safe, and I can’t work if I have to watch and worry all the time.”

  “Oh!” he said, his eyes growing round. “I’m reading,” he added, only to disappear into the library and close the door.

  Luke strode into the kitchen and Dolorita turned around, her eyes full of fire. “You hurt my muchacha!”

 

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