by Sara Orwig
“Suppose Judge Tolliver tells you to give yourself up to the marshal?”
Luke looked down at her as they stepped into the hall. He had his arm around her waist and she gazed up at him while she waited. “I won’t go now, Honor. I promised you I wouldn’t. I’ll stay in San Antonio tonight so I can take care of business and ride home tomorrow.”
“Luke, if he agrees with me to forget the past—won’t that be enough to convince you?” she asked, wishing there was a baby on the way because a child would hold Luke in Texas.
He gazed at her solemnly while he considered her question. “Let’s decide after I talk to Matt. Now come tell me good-bye.”
She sighed as she walked beside him and her arm was tight around his waist.
In the kitchen, Dolorita glanced at him. “Vaya con Dios.”
“Thank you, Dolorita. I’ll be home tomorrow night in time for dinner.”
She laughed and nodded. “I think we’ll have something you like, perhaps steak and potatoes,” she said, knowing steak was his favorite.
“I can’t wait,” he answered lightly. He stepped outside, holding Honor tightly against him as they walked to his horse.
“I wish you’d take another man along with you,” Honor said.
“I’ll be all right. This is Acheson’s busy time, too. He doesn’t have time to be hiding in the mesquite waiting to bushwhack me. It’s the middle of the week, and he won’t be expecting me to ride past his place. Besides, I’m armed like I’m going into battle. When your pa settled, he sure as hell would have been doing everyone a favor if he hadn’t built north of Acheson.”
“He didn’t know that when he picked this place.”
“I know he didn’t.” Luke didn’t want to leave her. He didn’t know if it was a foreboding of disaster or fear of what Matt Tolliver would tell him, or simply that he didn’t want to spend a night away from Honor, but he tightened his arm around her, pulling her up against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him.
“Good-bye, Honor,” he said in a husky voice, feeling something tear at him. He hated leaving her. He felt uneasy, knowing his concern was unfounded because Dusty and the men would be with her, and he would be home tomorrow night.
He kissed her swiftly, then mounted up, flicking the reins, and the bay started down the lane. Luke twisted to look back.
Honor stood in the road while spring winds whipped tendrils from her braid around her face. She watched Luke ride away. At the bend in the lane, he turned to wave to her. She returned the wave, watching him ride out of sight, saying another prayer that Judge Tolliver would tell Luke the same thing she had—to forget the past.
The April sun was making the day warm as Whit Branigan repaired the big clock facing his desk. He glanced outside at a wagon in the street headed east and beyond it, he glimpsed a rider going east. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward to look as the rider disappeared down the street. Suddenly he dropped the hammer with a clatter and dashed out the door, racing to the saloon.
Twenty minutes later Branigan stood and watched a lean, black-haired man ride down the street. Six-shooters worn on each hip were hidden by the coat, yet Branigan knew they were there. The man’s black hat was pulled low on his head, and Branigan felt a chill. The whole incident was bad, and he wanted the hell away from any part of it. Except he couldn’t leave yet. He had some things to do first, and some money to collect. He would wait a day. That would give him time to collect money, maybe steal a little more if he was lucky. Before he reported to Rake, Whit wanted to make certain McCloud didn’t come riding back. It would be enough time to know the bounty hunter had him.
The evening Luke was due home, Honor walked down the road a few yards from the house, staring into the darkness, rubbing her arms against a chill even though the spring night was balmy and the wind only a slight breeze. Where was Luke?
“Miss Honor?”
She turned, noticing that Dusty’s limp was more pronounced. She knew the past weeks had been grueling work every waking hour for him.
“I’m worried about Luke because he said he would be back tonight.”
“I expected him before now. I promised Boss I would stay here, but I can send some of the men to search for him in the light that’s left. Then we might as well wait until dawn because if—” Dusty paused and studied her. She raised her chin, and he continued, “If anything happened to him, we couldn’t see him even if he was only a few yards off the side of the road. I’ll go now, though, and get some of them searching. If he’s on the road home, someone should find him. They still have about an hour of light left to look.”
“Would you, please,” she said, frightened and unable to convince herself that her fears were ridiculous.
Within ten minutes Hank, Will, Pablo, and Jake rode past her. She stepped to one side of the road and they all smiled. She smiled in return, but with every moment that ticked past, her fears were increasing. She watched the men ride out of sight and saw them spread out on the road, Hank moving ahead, Will dropping behind, Pablo and Jake following on the side of the road.
The sun blazed out of sight, leaving pink clouds in its wake, and then to the east stars began to wink. Dusty strolled down to stand with her.
“Don’t worry, Miss Honor, until you have to,” he said solemnly.
“Dusty, I’m frightened for him.”
“I think Acheson’s too busy to do anything. Something just detained Luke. You’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
In minutes Jeddy joined them. “Where’s Luke?”
“I don’t know,” Honor answered. “Some of the men have gone to look for him.”
“Well, I’ll head back to the bunkhouse,” Dusty said. “Miss Honor, you might as well go home. The boys are out there looking, and it’ll be night in minutes now.”
She turned reluctantly, looking up the empty road once more, her foreboding growing. The three walked back in silence until Dusty turned to the bunkhouse.
“I’ll come let you know when the boys get back.”
“Thanks, Dusty.”
“Don’t you think he’s just in town?” Jeddy asked.
“I don’t know, Jed. It isn’t much like him when he said he would be here tonight.”
“Something could have happened to his horse.”
She glanced at Jeddy. “I hope that’s all it is.”
Jeddy sat in the parlor with her and read while she sewed, but her mind was on Luke.
When she heard the knock at the back door, she rushed to answer it, throwing it open to find Dusty standing in the dark.
“Come inside,” she said, while Jeddy brought a lamp into the kitchen.
“They didn’t see any sign of him,” Dusty said solemnly. “But that doesn’t mean something happened. He could have stayed a night with the judge and be coming in the morning. As soon as sun’s up, we’ll look again.”
“Please, do, and let me know.”
“Try not to worry until you have to,” he repeated, and placed his hat on his head.
She closed the door and leaned against it.
“You think something’s happened, don’t you?” Jeddy asked quietly behind her.
She turned and shook her head. “I don’t know. It isn’t like Luke, because he said he would be here tonight. But Dusty and Luke both said Rake Acheson is too busy now to cause trouble. I just pray they’re right.”
“I’m going to my room. Tell me if Luke comes home.”
“I will.”
He stood looking at her and crossed the room to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t worry, Honor. Luke’s able to take care of himself.”
She realized she was looking up into Jeddy’s eyes. He was still growing and changing, and now that his voice seldom cracked, it held the same timbre as their father’s had had. She smiled at him. “I’ll remember.”
He left the room and she gazed after him, wishing she could let go of her fears.
Nearing midnight, Branigan unlocked
the door to his darkened office and stepped inside. He had been detained yesterday by the damned U.S. Marshal, who was looking for a stolen shipment of government gold. It was long enough now that the bounty hunter had McCloud, and Whit wanted away from Montello, far away from Acheson and the H Bar R men. He and Acheson were the only ones who knew what had happened to McCloud, and Whit didn’t want to be questioned by the H Bar R men.
Hurrying around his desk, Branigan yanked open the bottom drawer and pulled out the metal box, dropping it with a bang that made him jump and swear.
With shaking hands he emptied the contents into his pockets and gathered up a few papers. He jammed his hat on his head and hurried out the back door to mount his horse and head north out of town to collect from Rake Acheson.
Five hours later, Rake strode across his front room and onto the porch, his boots clattering against the bare boards while he watched Whit Branigan mount up in the first faint light in the morning sky.
“I’ll head back to town now. Have to be there when the marshal arrives. Thanks, Rake.”
Rake nodded, his hands jammed into his pockets while his thoughts were already on Honor McCloud. Luke McCloud was out of the way, but she still had all the H Bar R hands nearby. Going inside to eat breakfast, Rake’s thoughts were on Honor. As soon as he finished eating, Rake strode toward a corral and spotted the man he wanted. He motioned when the man looked up and waited while Boar Leniston strode toward him.
“You want me?”
“Yes. McCloud’s gone for a spell. I want to know when his wife is home alone or just has the kid brother and the maid with her. Slip over on their land to watch their place and let me know. I want to know how near ready they are to pulling out for the drive. See what you can learn, but tonight if she’s home alone, I want to know. If she leaves the house and rides off alone, I want to know.”
Boar nodded his large head. Blond, barrel-shaped with a massive chest, his flat nose and close-set eyes had earned him the nickname. He turned and walked away with a rolling gait, moving with an ease and quiet unusual for a large man. Rake knew Boar could get on H Bar R property, observe what was happening, and get back without getting caught unless he had miserable luck. The man had a knack for sneaking around, and Rake had asked him several times to watch someone and report back. Rake glanced north toward the H Bar R. He felt a stirring in his groin. Honor Roth would be his soon. She had turned into a real beauty, and he wanted her before she started north with all the H Bar R hands.
During the night Honor paced their room, and with each hour that chimed on the clock, her foreboding grew. Where is he? She remembered the beating that he had barely survived and clenched her fists, recalling the moment when Rake had shot her father. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. Long before dawn, she dressed to ride with the men who were going to search for Luke.
Dusty and Hank mounted up to ride with Honor, all of them in grim silence. All three had rifles ready and both men wore holsters with revolvers.
Fanned across the road were Dusty and Hank searching the roadside, they rode an hour when they spotted a lone rider ahead and Honor’s pulse jumped. “Dusty—” she said, and his head swung around as she pointed.
Twenty-one
Her heart pounded with eagerness and she wanted to break into a gallop, but within minutes, as the shape of the man became clearer, her hopes plummeted. The shoulders were too narrow and he was not tall enough in the saddle to be Luke.
After a few more minutes when the distance had narrowed, Dusty gave a snort of disgust. “Wonder what the hell he’s doing out this way,” Dusty said. “It’s Sheriff Branigan,” he remarked in a tone that sounded as if he had a foul taste in his mouth. His hand went to his revolver, and Hank withdrew his rifle from its scabbard and held it in his hand. The men rode closer to Honor as they approached Branigan.
Whit Branigan gazed at the trio and felt his palms grow sweaty. The H Bar R hands were tough and hard. They didn’t start trouble and they kept to themselves, but Acheson had killed Horace Roth and the Mexican, and that was enough reason for them to seek revenge on anyone connected with Acheson. Whit wanted to slide his hand to his revolver, but he was afraid they’d see and draw on him.
As they drew closer, he felt sweat run down his face and under his arms because they were blocking his way and they looked as if they had no intention of allowing him to pass. When he was only yards from them, he drew rein.
“Good morning,” he said, hoping his voice sounded firm and his fear didn’t show.
“Morning, Branigan,” Dusty Shackleford said, and Whit could hear the contempt in his voice. He had seen two big men jump Shackleford one night as he was leaving a bar and in minutes, Shackleford had walked away from the fight, leaving both men unconscious in the dirt. “We’re looking for Luke McCloud. He was supposed to return home last night. Have you seen him?”
Branigan debated whether to deny seeing him or say he was in the saloon in town. And then he realized he had paused too long as Shackleford’s eyes narrowed a fraction. Branigan licked his lips. They could make him ride back to the saloon if he said he had seen Luke there. His thoughts tumbled in mind, and his hands shook.
“Where is he?” Shackleford asked in a tone that made Whit shiver.
“Ah …” He licked his lips and looked at Honor. He blinked and tried to think what to do. “He came to my office. Now he’s gone to Missouri. He’s a wanted man, and he’s gone back to Missouri,” he said. They couldn’t force him to go back to town to search for Luke if he was headed to Missouri. As he finished his announcement, Honor McCloud seemed to sway, and suddenly Branigan felt better. Give them a good shock, and they’d forget him!
“He had to clear his name.” He wasn’t about to tell them a bounty hunter had gone after him. The whole H Bar R would soon be riding after McCloud. “It seems he murdered a man. I’m sorry, Mrs. McCloud, if I’ve given you a shock. Men come out here and take wives and don’t tell them about their pasts.” She didn’t even look at him, and Branigan began to relax. “I have business if you folks will let me pass.”
Dusty motioned and they spread apart. Whit Branigan rode past them, his palms sweaty and his skin prickling. He watched them from the corner of his eye, keeping his eye on Shackleford and then he looked straight ahead, scared what Shackleford might see in his eyes.
Honor didn’t see the sheriff ride past her, didn’t know what she was doing. She felt light-headed, her pulse racing and a dull ache filling her. Luke had promised her he wouldn’t go to Missouri without coming home first, without taking the herd to market. He had talked to Judge Tolliver and had headed back to Missouri without telling her good-bye.
Shocked, crushed by his broken promise, she turned her horse around. Dusty and Hank moved ahead of her and she followed, unable to see for the tears that blinded her and ran unheeded down her cheeks. Luke was gone and might not ever be back. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Ahead, the distance gaining between them, she could see Whit Branigan until he reached a fork in the road and headed due north. When they reached the fork, they turned west. Luke, you promised to come back! She hurt more than ever, and she remembered how many times he had told her that someday he would leave, and she would have to get along without him.
What had Judge Tolliver told him? Had he urged him to give himself up? Had the judge convinced Luke that the need to turn himself in was so urgent that Luke didn’t even come home to say good-bye? She felt as if everything inside her was breaking into tiny pieces that would never be whole again.
As they neared the ranch house, she rode in numb silence, her tears long ago dried up while she stared straight ahead and tried to think about the ranch and the work ahead of her. Dusty dropped back to ride beside her while Hank turned off and cantered away to join some of the men.
“You all right, Miss Honor?”
“Dusty, he promised me he would come home first,” she said in a tight voice, trying to keep control of her emotions.
“May
be the judge told him he shouldn’t. Maybe Judge Tolliver didn’t give him a choice.”
“He got as far as Montello.”
“That’s on the line north to Missouri. Want me to go after him?”
She looked around at Dusty and thought about Luke riding to Missouri without coming home. She wanted to cry out yes, to go after him and bring him back. She gazed into Dusty’s blue eyes while she debated what her heart said to do and what logic and emotions argued. Luke was doing what he wanted to do, and if Dusty went after him, unless he resorted to force and fought Luke, Dusty wouldn’t be able to change Luke’s mind.
She thought about the cattle ready to take to market and how badly Dusty was needed at the H Bar R. She sighed, hurting more than she would have thought possible. “No. We need you here, and Luke is doing what he wants.”
“Do you want to wait a day or two to leave for market in case he changes his mind?”
“No,” she answered bitterly. “If he changes his mind, he knows where to find us, and he’ll catch up with us.”
Dusty nodded. “Miss Honor, Boss had a strong sense of right and wrong,” he said. Dusty reined in and turned to her. “We don’t leave until tomorrow,” he said solemnly, and Honor reined to look at him. “Just in case Branigan was covering something,” Dusty continued, “how ’bout I take another man and we go look for him and ask in town. Acheson would like nothing better than to catch Boss alone. This trip he had his chance, and Branigan is an Acheson man.”
She nodded, feeling hope flare. “I don’t know what the sheriff would have to gain by lying—and Dusty, he couldn’t have known about Missouri …” Her voice trailed away and Dusty hurt for her, wishing Luke had been less damned conscientious and wondering if Judge Tolliver realized how many lives he might have wrecked with his advice.
“I know Branigan couldn’t have known about Missouri any other way, so I don’t expect to find anything different from what he said, but Branigan’s not a man to trust.”
