by Sara Orwig
“I don’t know when he learned to dance.”
“It was during the first notes the fiddlers played. The Flores’s girl taught him the waltz, then the Tyrrells’ daughter taught him the polka.”
“I didn’t even notice,” Honor said, startled that Dolorita had observed so much when Honor had missed something important in her brother’s life.
“You were very busy last night,” Dolorita said, laughing. “And your husband suffered through all the attention you received,” she added quietly.
Honor glanced at her, wondering if Dolorita was right or had simply imagined what Luke was feeling. She carried her dishes to the counter and gazed out the window. Streamers of clouds sped across the sky, and wind kicked up a swirl of dust in the corral. Where was Luke and did he think about last night?
That night they talked all through dinner, and, afterward, Honor played slowly on the piano, careful with the new pieces she had taught herself while Luke turned the pages of music and Luke and Jeddy sang with her.
Her pulse raced, and she could barely remember words or music as she thought about Luke. Then Jeddy went to bed and she was alone with her husband. He closed the piano and lifted her into his strong arms. Honor wound her arms around his neck, burying her face against his throat as he carried her to bed, and she wished she had gone to his bed long before this.
The days passed swiftly. Honor was relieved that Luke had to postpone his trip to San Antonio to help hunt cows for branding. It was time to get ready for the drive north this spring. While he was gone days and nights now, working constantly and sleeping out with the hands, she was thankful for every day he was still at the ranch. Honor began riding with him, and even Jeddy joined them. She realized they would have a bigger herd to sell this year than last. She thought of Pa and all his hopes for the H Bar R.
Saturday night in Montello, music mingled with the sounds of men yelling and talking and laughing in the Bluebonnet Saloon. Upstairs in bed, Rake Acheson gazed at the slender, dark-skinned, black-haired woman who moved around the room. She was naked, and his gaze roamed over her appreciatively in spite of possessing her only minutes earlier. How easy it was to imagine she was Honor Roth. As he looked at the woman’s long legs, he frowned. He wasn’t an inch closer to getting Honor, and that no-good Branigan was scared to tackle Luke McCloud to get him out of the way.
Rake reached for a cheroot and leaned over an oil lamp to light it, settling back on the bed while he exhaled and gazed through a stream of smoke at the woman. Tomorrow he would go talk to Branigan again. A good beating might stiffen his spine.
“Come here, Stel,” he ordered, and the woman turned, smiling as she walked back to him. Rake reached up to pull her into his arms, his thoughts going to Honor Roth.
When dawn came the woman was asleep. Rake tossed money on the bed beside her and left the room. Just as a rooster crowed down the street, Rake left the silent saloon and blinked in the early morning sunshine.
Sounds of men arguing reached him, and he looked toward the jail, where two men were shouting at each other, both of them talking with slurred words. Grinning, Rake stepped off the boardwalk and strolled toward them as one swung at the other. They began pummelling each other, exchanging blows, one staggering against the wall, falling against the wanted posters and ripping some of them free. The posters blew across the boardwalk and into the street while Rake watched the fight.
A poster was caught by a wind gust, sweeping up before Rake and then striking his leg. He shook his leg and it fell in the dirt. He looked down at a drawing and unfamiliar name and then the poster blew down the street.
One man finally hit the other a staggering right to the jaw, knocking him to the ground. The victor staggered away and turned the corner out of sight. Rake strode toward the jail, going around the man sprawled on the ground, who was now snoring.
When Rake stepped into the sheriff’s office, he slammed the door. Branigan jumped, coming awake where he had slumped in his chair.
“Hell, you startled me—”
“Someone might come in and draw on you.”
“Not likely on Sunday morning. You’re out early.”
“I want to know when you’re going to do something about McCloud.”
“I can’t do one thing until the man breaks the law. He won’t even get off the H Bar R. I haven’t seen him in town in a month.”
“Probably busy with branding. That’s why I’m going home now.” Rake stood in the center of the small office, his hands on his hips while he fumed in frustration. He touched the sheriff’s desk, running his finger along the wood. “Dammit, when he takes his herd north, Honor will ride with him.” He turned and looked at the wall, shuffling through the wanted posters without really seeing them.
“Boss, there are other good-looking women, and they won’t be one-tenth the trouble you’ll stir up with Honor McCloud.”
“To hell with that! Think of something, Branigan,” he snapped, and stormed out of the office, slamming the door and jamming his hat on his head. He looked up and down the street. Wind fluttered the remaining wanted posters nailed to the wall.
Rake strode toward the saloon. He’d get his men and go home. He might as well get back to work. He entered the saloon and stood with his hands on his hips as he gazed over the crowd. He saw a man with his back to the room. The man’s thick brown hair touched his collar, and his shoulders were broad. For a moment Rake thought he had spotted McCloud, but the man turned and Rake saw it was a stranger. The man had a beard and mustache, and brown hair framed his face. Rake’s eyes narrowed as he thought about the wanted posters. He glanced over his shoulder toward the jail.
“Ready to head home?” Cory Leach asked, hitching up his pants while he shifted a wad of tobacco in his mouth.
“Soon,” Rake said, turning to leave and striding back to Branigan’s office. He paused outside and looked at the remaining wanted posters, pausing at one and trying to imagine the face he stared at without the beard and mustache. He ripped the poster from the wall and entered the office.
“Hello again,” Branigan said.
Rake didn’t bother answering as he crossed to the wall and began to leaf through the wanted posters.
“What are you looking for?”
“Shut up,” he snapped. Finally he found one that matched the one in his hand. He yanked it free and slammed it down on the desk in front of Branigan. “Who does that look like?”
Branigan stared at the poster and scratched his head. “Dunno. Damn, that’s an old one—”
“Imagine the face without the beard and mustache.”
Branigan continued staring, finally looking up at Rake with his brows arching. He tilted his head. “There might be a faint resemblance to McCloud,” he said hesitantly.
“There’s enough for you to find me a bounty hunter, and I’ll pay him to take McCloud back to Missouri.”
“Suppose that’s not McCloud? There’s not much resemblance.”
“I don’t give a damn who this is. If a bounty hunter takes McCloud—and one will if I pay him—and if McCloud’s away from home for even a week,” Acheson said, thinking about Honor, “I’ll get what I want.”
Branigan frowned. “Boss, if he’s the wrong man and you hurt his wife while he’s gone, you’ll have a war—”
“I’m not going to hurt her; I just want some fun. I’ll send her home again. And the H Bar R men are scared to come after me, or they would have before now.”
“McCloud will come after you if you touch her.”
“Are you going to cooperate?” Rake asked Branigan in a quiet voice, and, to Rake’s satisfaction, the man’s face paled.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll find you a bounty hunter. They come through here.”
“Find him soon and keep this to yourself. Do a good job and let me know when they’re on their way to”—he paused to look down at the wanted poster—“to Missouri, and you get twenty dollars.”
Whit Branigan felt as cold as if a blizzard had stirred
up in his office as he stared into the blue eyes of the man across the desk. He nodded and watched Rake Acheson stomp out and head toward the saloon. His gaze shifted to the poster on the desk and he wiped his brow that was damp in spite of his chill. The wanted man wasn’t McCloud, and Acheson had lost all reason to want to go after a damn half-breed, no matter how beautiful she was. She was McCloud’s woman and every man that worked for McCloud was loyal to the Roths and McCloud.
Swearing, Branigan pushed back his chair and strode to the window to stare at Acheson as he headed toward the saloon. Acheson had lost control when he killed Roth, but he escaped arrest. And his luck had held with the Mexican hand. But if he touched Honor Roth and had a bounty hunter take Luke McCloud by mistake—
“Dammit,” Branigan whispered, going back to the desk to take out the locked box and count his money. He’d find the bounty hunter because he didn’t want Acheson after him, but then he was leaving. He didn’t want to be around when McCloud came back after his woman. Or when the H Bar R hands decided to go after Rake. All for a half-breed. Branigan’s head snapped up and he thought about the Comanche. McCloud was on good terms with his wife’s people.
Hair rose on the nape of Branigan’s neck. He’d get the bounty hunter, and then he was to hell and gone that night, heading west. He didn’t want any part of the storm Acheson was going to stir. That man was going too far this time. Maybe all he’d gotten away with before made him toss away caution, but he wouldn’t survive harming Honor McCloud.
Branigan stared at the empty street and wondered how long before a bounty hunter stopped in Montello.
Twenty
Monday, while they were chasing some steers out of a draw, Luke watched Honor as she rode ahead of him, her black hair in a heavy braid that hung down her back and touched the saddle, her round bottom making him think of the night before. He needed to see Judge Tolliver, and he wanted to do so before he headed north with the beeves. But how easy it was to put off talking to Matt Tolliver about the problem! Luke watched Honor, feeling his body tighten as he thought about her in his arms, her quicksilver laughter, her warmth and giving. He longed to catch up with her and take her off to himself right now, knowing he was growing more in love with her every day.
She twisted around and glanced over her shoulder at him, and his heart thudded at the sensuous, secretive look she gave him, a look that shut all others out of their world for a moment. She turned back around, and he ached for the day to be over, wanting to be alone with her.
Three weeks later Luke saddled his horse for the ride to San Antonio. Dusty entered the corral and walked over to him. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Dusty, don’t let her out of your sight while I’m gone.”
Dusty studied Luke while he shifted a cheroot to the corner of his mouth and squinted against the smoke. “Boss, I know you’re still worrying about your past. And I know you’ve told Honor because I can see the worry in her eyes.” Dusty kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. “We all have our secrets.” He raised his head, his blue eyes direct as he gazed up at Luke. “Mine is as bad as anybody’s. Maybe you don’t have to talk to the judge about your past. Honor didn’t say you were going to see the judge for that reason, but I figured you might be.”
“You’re right,” Luke said, staring beyond the other man. “Dusty, she could get hurt badly a long time from now if I keep quiet. There’s a reward posted for me,” Luke stated quietly, knowing he could trust Dusty with his life.
Dusty squinted at him. “If you’re wanted, it had to be more than five years ago. You’ve worked here since then. That’s a hell of a long time, and it was back during the war when everything was in a turmoil.”
“It was before the war, when I was seventeen,” Luke said evenly.
“I’d turn my back on it if I were you. You don’t spend much time in town with folks where you’d be seen. Hell, Luke, I got this scar,” he said, touching his right cheek where there was a barely noticeable white line against his dark, weathered skin, “and my limp. Man came after my woman and we got in a knife fight. I killed him. You’re the first person I’ve told. I walked away from it and came west, and that was the end of it.”
Luke ran his hand over the satiny coat of the bay standing beside him, feeling the powerful muscles and sleek hide. “There are wanted posters of me in town,” he said quietly.
Dusty shrugged. “They’ve been hanging there a damned long time then.”
Suddenly Luke clasped Dusty’s shoulder. “Thanks, Dusty. You’ve been as good to me as Horace Roth, and I’ll think about what you’ve said. I know 1 can depend on you to take care of Honor.”
“That damned Acheson is the one who ought to hang.”
“Just watch Honor for me. I don’t want him to hurt her again. I’ve seen him look at her when we’ve been in Montello.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll watch her.”
Dusty turned to stride toward the barn, and Luke stared at him, thinking how fortunate he had been to have his life bound up with men like Roth and Dusty. And to have Honor. He glanced over his shoulder at the long white adobe house that meant so much to him. He loved Honor with every ounce of his being, and he wanted to do what was best for her, and how tempting it would be to do what Honor wanted and what Dusty counseled and just forget the past and pray it never caught up with him.
He swung into the saddle and urged his horse forward as Jeddy shot out of the house as if propelled by a cannon blast. Luke bit back a smile at the sight of him. Jeddy seemed to be gaining an inch a month now, and Luke wondered if he would be taller than his father had been. Yet in spite of the changes in his body, Jeddy hadn’t lost some of his childish ways and still ran most of the time instead of walking, tearing through the house like a galloping horse. His long legs and big feet looked awkward as he moved in a loose-jointed manner, stopping abruptly in front of Luke and placing his fists on his hips.
“I wish I could go with you.”
“I know you do, and I promised you, next trip to San Antonio you get to go. You’re needed here right now, Jed.”
He nodded and Luke dismounted, looping the reins around the hitching post. “We’ll start the drive to market when I get back,” he said, gazing over his shoulder at the milling beeves recently rounded up and grazing beyond the corral.
“We’re going to be gone from here forever,” Jeddy said darkly.
“It won’t be quite that long, and those pretty girls will probably appreciate you more after an absence.”
Jeddy looked up and blushed even as he grinned. He tilted his head to one side. “Luke, after I get back from this drive, I’ll have done the work of a man. I’m thirteen now. Can I take the buggy sometime and take Mary Louise Sorenson to a church supper?”
Luke glanced over Jeddy’s head, thinking about Jeddy driving a buggy to Montello. “Jed, I’ll have to give that thought. I suppose if all of us go along—”
“Aw, Luke.”
“We can take the wagon, but you can’t go alone.”
“You’ll go in the wagon? Will you follow me to her house to pick her up?”
“Jed, before we get into this too much, I think we need to discuss it with Honor. Plus I doubt if Mary Louise’s parents will allow her to go with you unless Honor and I ride with you.”
“All right, if I tell her parents that you will be with us, can I ask her to ride with me?”
“Sure, if we’re along.”
“Thanks, Luke!” He ran his fingers along the hitching post and then looked up, gazing steadfastly at Luke. “I want to ask you something. Suppose someday I want to go to college? Would that be possible?”
Luke had expected this question, but he didn’t think it would come up this soon. He looked beyond Jed and thought about the ranch and the herd they would take to market this year. “If we have good years between now and then—as good as we will this year, and barring some unforseen disaster—yes, you should be able to go to college.”
“Do you think Honor would ag
ree?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’ll ask her. Suppose I study law?”
Luke gazed into black eyes that met his stare directly and he knew that if Jed Roth wanted to be a lawyer instead of running the H Bar R, nothing would stop him. Thinking about the future, Luke rubbed the back of his neck. If he turned his back on his past, he would be here to help Honor run the H Bar R and Jed wouldn’t be needed as badly. “I don’t know how your sister will feel about it, but I think it would be fine, Jed. A man shouldn’t be locked into something he doesn’t like if he can help it.”
“It isn’t what Pa wanted,” Jeddy remarked, looking at the house. “But he might have agreed if he knew how much I wanted it.”
“You’re thirteen. You might change your mind.”
Jeddy turned and grinned and shook his head. “Not a chance in hell,” he said.
Luke laughed as Jeddy turned and ran across the yard as if he were five years old, charging into the barn.
Luke strode into the house and found Honor in their bedroom. She was plaiting her hair and he crossed the room to her. She was dressed to ride, in denim trousers and a woolen shirt and leather vest, and the pants hugged her hips and long legs. He wanted to peel her out of all the clothing and take her back to bed. Her dark eyes met his gaze and he could see the fear in them. He took her into his arms. “Stop worrying. All I’m going to do today is talk to Matt Tolliver. I promised you, I won’t do anything until after this cattle drive.”
“I never thought I’d look forward to a cattle drive like I do this one. It means you’ll be mine, and I won’t have to worry about losing you until we get home.”
He stroked her back. “We won’t have much privacy while we’re traveling.”
A mischievous sparkle replaced the worry in her dark eyes. “I think we’ll manage to get a moment now and then.”
He tightened his arms around her and kissed her long and hard until both of them were breathless. He released her. “Come walk outside with me. I’ll be home tomorrow night and, day after tomorrow, we’ll start west.”
