The Reaper 0f The Rio Sangre: Special Edition HBH Version (Half Breed Haven Book 10)
Page 7
For a year after that their love had blazed as bright as the desert sun. They frequently traveled back and forth between their homes to revel in their love and lovemaking. It had been one of the happiest years of her life, she knew. However, nothing so good could last forever. Soon, it seemed the Wildes were becoming more and more involved in the fight to preserve law and order in the territory. Whether it was one of Cassie’s assignments from their uncle or the girls stumbling on to a dire situation, they had become busier and busier.
It had begun to seem like she was spending less time with Quillan than he would have wished, and things had unraveled. That was when he had made his offer, partly out of love and partly out of desperation she had always believed. A sound in the night instantly brought her attention back to her surroundings. She brought her horse to a stop and hooked the reins around the saddle horn. Her left hand went to the butt of her pistol and her right hand to the hilt of her knife that she always had on her right hip. Like the rest of her siblings, she was ambidextrous. Her weapon of choice was her knife, and she preferred using her right hand when she needed to throw it.
Honor scanned the darkness, but she could see nothing threatening. The desert at night was an unforgiving place, and she respected its dangers. When all remained quiet, after a time, she proceeded on again. She brushed aside all the thoughts of the past and geared herself to face the present as, eventually; the canyon gave way to the open terrain. Soon she would find herself in Godspell, face to face with the unknown.
Augustus Detweiller helped his daughter into her wrap while she stared towards where Bright Feather, the judge, and Marisol stood laughing with each other, along with an elderly couple.
“I can’t wait to get out of here!” she said.
“I sent for the buggy and the Wildes’ servants should be bringing it around front shortly. You didn’t ask how it went with the judge,” Augustus said to Annabelle.
“Perhaps I had other things on my mind. Like how that blonde tart humiliated me,” she answered angrily.
“We should consider ourselves lucky. It does not appear that your comments have gotten back to the judge. They still might, of course, but since you were not going to ask, the judge and I got along splendidly. He has even tentatively agreed to have lunch with me in town next week. If he cancels, I will know your ill-advised comments did indeed make their way to him,” Augustus said, scorn evident in his tone.
“You’re going to lunch with him, and he truly has no idea how your paths crossed so long ago, indirectly,” Annabelle sneered.
“Annabelle, I wish to keep it that way,” he answered firmly.
“I well imagine you would want to. Since it cost our family, and his, dearly,” she responded.
Augustus did not answer, but rather lit a cigar and looked around the room. Annabelle also turned her attention to the thinning crowd at the party. Some of the other guests had begun to prepare to leave as well, now that the rain storm seemed to be passing. She could not see the blonde anywhere, and she was thankful for that. Cassandra Wilde was the last person she had any interest in seeing. She knew though that Alamieda was not that big of a town, and the chances were slim that she would never see her again. The Asian and the colored girl also appeared to have vanished, but she didn't care about them. She pushed thoughts of them aside as she continued to scan the crowd, but the one she was seeking was not there either. Where was that Mexican half breed? She looked around one final time but did not see her quarry. She did see Killian Kincaid approaching them.
“I noticed you were about to leave this self-afflicted torture, and I wished to bid you adieu,” he told them.
“Thank you again for looking after my daughter,” Augustus said.
“That was a true pleasure,” he answered, taking Annabelle’s hand and kissing it gallantly.
“You have my gratitude as well,” she told him.
“What I would prefer, is an hour of your time. Perhaps lunch at the Alamieda Inn? It is one of the few places in this enclave of rubes that seems to have a touch of class to it,” Kincaid told them.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Augustus said with a smile. Annabelle tilted her head to one side.
“Then you have lunch with him, Father. Mr. Kincaid, I thank you for your offer, but it would only serve to remind me of this wretched night. I would prefer to bury the memory. You will excuse us, won’t you?” she asked, flushed and still angry. Kincaid bowed low.
“Of course, as you wish. Goodnight to you both,” he said graciously.
“Good night, son,” Augustus said to him, pumping his hand. Annabelle just nodded, and they walked towards the exit. Kincaid called out to them, so she turned.
“Yes?” she asked.
“I will be seeing you, Miss Detweiller,” Kincaid said cockily.
Annabelle snorted and walked out of the barn shaking her head. It seemed no one at the gathering understood decorum. What a night this had been! Of course, she had been the only one to bear it. Augustus had not even considered trying to force her sister to attend. Abigail, always the rebel and uncontrollable to the end. Worse yet her sibling had already taken to this town and was starting to mix in with what both she and her father considered the wrong crowd, befriending saloon girls and playing cards with saddlebums just to name a few of her indiscretions.
Naturally, since he seemed utterly ineffectual at controlling Abbie, he continued to exert even more control on her … just because he could and because she let him. Shaking her head, she could only wonder what she had done in some past life to be rewarded with the one she had to endure now. Her eyes traveled back to the Wildes as she basked in her frustration.
Dutch was standing outside the barn door, leaning against the wall, underneath the eaves with his arms crossed. He stared off into the distance as the rain was coming to a halt. Mr. Chow arrived then with the Detweiller’s’ coach. Dutch stood up straight and nodded to them, but Annabelle ignored him pointedly. She got into the passenger seat of the carriage as her father took the reins. Dutch watched them drive off as Mr. Chow went for the next guest’s buggy before returning to lean up against the wall and stare off towards the back of the family home.
His eyes were drawn to the light in the window that he knew belonged to Lijuan. When she had left the party earlier, he would have expected her to go straight to bed. Yet her light was still on and shining like a beacon. A beacon for what, he wondered not really expecting an answer. Was it because she could not go to sleep? She was no doubt beside herself with the treatment she had received from him. Never had he shown such hostility to his sister. What she had almost blurted out though! The ramifications would have caused discord in the family that he could not even begin to understand.
Yet now he was second-guessing his behavior. It had been such a knee-jerk reaction. A nagging regret was creeping into his consciousness. How could he have hurt her so? The pair had shared such a deep bond all those years. As an immature child, Cassie had roundly rejected her own flesh and blood as an intruder into their family. It had taken many years for the pair to forge the deep abiding love they now shared as sisters.
For Dutch, though, he had warmed to being a big brother the moment his father had brought back the exotic infant, after seemingly being lost at sea off the Chinese coast. Lijuan had been right because he had protected her in ways that those who came after her hadn't needed. Catalina and Honor did not need his protection, because the kids knew they had a brother that would protect them as he had Lijuan. He had a reputation by that time. It had been Lijuan who had borne the brunt of the other kids’ torment and bigotry until the first time he had taken matters into his own hands. That had solidified their deep bond far beyond any measure. He knew it was that deep bond that was the problem and there seemed no escape.
Trying to put the confrontation out of his mind, Dutch re-entered the barn to collect Bright Feather. He had decided he would prefer to ride back to the fort tonight rather than deal with any awkwardness with Lijuan in t
he morning. Once he found her where she was speaking with the town dressmaker, whom she had recently gotten her first dress from, they said their goodbyes to his father, Blue River, and Marisol and then headed back to the house to change into more casual clothes for the ride.
As Bright Feather went off to say goodbye to Mrs. Chow who was still cleaning the kitchen from the day's marathon of cooking, he took the stairs two at a time and headed right down the hall to the family quarters. As he approached, he saw the light under Lijuan's door across from his old room. He paused staring at the light, wondering if there was a way to fix what had happened earlier. Perhaps that was what he should do instead of simply leaving. His guilt over their earlier confrontation was really beginning to bother him. He raised his hand to knock, and the light went out under the door. He could hear the gentle sound of sobbing, and it made him feel worse than he already had been feeling. He tried to formulate options of how to make it better when Bright Feather came up the stairs and the moment was lost.
He smiled at her, “Let’s get changed and head out. Are you sure you don’t mind us leaving like this?”
“Whatever pleases you, pleases me.”
A warmth spread over him then. How had he gotten so lucky to have found this woman? He took a final glance at Lijuan's door and surrendered to the fact he would have to make things right between them at another time. Putting his arm around her shoulder, they headed off to his room.
GODSPELL
Arizona Territory
When Honor arrived out in front of the apartment the Dodge brother and sister team shared above their stagecoach office, she was glad to see lights burning brightly inside. After tying up her horse, she hesitated briefly before heading up the stairs she knew so well. As was her old habit, she knocked briefly and walked in. The living room was empty, but she noticed lights shining from under the door to Quillans’s bedroom and the kitchen door, before heading towards his room.
Upon entering her heart gave a thump. Quillan was sitting up in his bed propped by two pillows. On the floor lay a bloody bandage and a woman was in the process of wrapping a fresh one around his head. His arm was in a sling, and Quillan's eyes went wide when he saw Honor Elizabeth enter his room.
“Honor Elizabeth!” he called out surprised as she hastened to his bedside. The woman stepped back with a look on her face that had nothing pleasurable about it.
“Quillan, what happened to you?” she asked, feeling flushed at the sight of the man she cared about so injured.
"I got left for dead is what happened. This morning the stage got held up. A Mexican man was waiting alongside the road with a wagon. I think he thought he was going to make a good bounty by robbing my stage. Unfortunately for him, I was on a return run with no passengers or any type of freight. He was furious and took two shots at me for the hell of it. The first grazed my arm, but the second creased my scalp, and that no account didn't stick around long enough to see that because another wagon was coming up," he told her. Honor took his good hand. Glad it hadn't been worse.
“Quillan, oh lord, I am so sorry!” she told him.
“I’m not. I’m just glad to see another day,” he smiled with a stubborn cheerfulness she had always admired.
"So am I, darling," The woman in the room said laying a hand on his face. Honor turned her gaze to the woman for the first time. She was older than Quillan and Honor, and she wore her hair in an afro and had rich, ebony skin. For some reason, she seemed vaguely familiar to Honor.
“Hello, I see you are tending to Mr. Dodge. You have my deepest gratitude. I’m Honor Elizabeth Wilde,” Honor introduced herself.
"I know who you is. We met years ago when you used to come up for the community dances. Bessie Scott, I play piano at them dances," she told Honor who nodded, remembering then. She thought back to the year she spent so much time in Godspell. The town had a large, colored community, perhaps the largest in all of Arizona. She had gone to the barn dances regularly with Quillan. They were organized by the various churches in the colored community every Saturday night. It seemed like forever since she had been to one with Quillan.
“Well, Miss Scott, as I said, I do declare you have my deepest gratitude for your mercies that you are tending to him.”
"I wasn't looking for your or anyone else's thanks for looking after him. Why should I? He's my man after all!" she huffed, and Honor raised an eyebrow feeling a flush of emotion shoot through her at the news but brought it in to check. They had broken up long before, and each had taken lovers along the way. Although whenever they were both unattached and got together after the breakup, they inevitably ended up making love again, enjoying the sensual bliss that had always been theirs together. It seemed that would be off the table once more now that he was with another woman.
“He is your man?” She was unable to stop herself from asking. Bessie stood and walked around the bed. Honor found herself having to look up as the woman towered over her.
“The past three months now and counting. We made it official the night we celebrated Quillan and his sister getting the new line from Godspell to Jackson Peak,” Bessie said proudly. Despite the woman’s threatening posture, Honor was impressed with Quillan and Katie. Jackson Peak was the name of the nearby mountain as well as the town nestled up against it. It had become a haven for the rich and powerful to vacation at. They would enjoy the robust mountain air and hot springs that could be found on the mountain’s slopes.
“The Jackson Peak run! That is amazing. I am most happy to hear that you got it,” she told Quillan with genuine enthusiasm. Bessie remained threatening, however, standing with her arms crossed looking down.
"Why wouldn't he get it? Quillan's got a reputation as the finest stage operator around these parts," Bessie said. Honor found herself becoming annoyed at the way the defensive woman questioned everything she said.
“Of course, he does, but as you surely know, the odds were not in his favor as a colored man, despite his most excellent reputation,” she pointed out. Bessie frowned.
“It seems that those awarding the contract are color blind when it comes to the money they will be making when Quillan gets them folks out to that new fancy hotel on time. Can’t have rich folks like you being late to their relaxing now, can we?” said Bessie sarcastically.
"Now wait just a minute …" Honor began but was interrupted by Quillan who was finally sensing the tension between the two women.
“I thank you for the congratulations, Miss Honor,” he said.
So, we are back to Miss Honor, she thought wistfully.
“You deserve it,” she said and reached over and squeezed his hand. She could sense Bessie’s hackles rising at that. Was she purposely baiting the woman? She wasn’t sure.
"Honor Wilde, what in the name of Christmas are you doing here all the way from Half Breed Haven? And at this hour too!" Honor heard from behind her. The three of them turned and saw Katie Dodge in the doorway with a tray and four mugs of coffee on it. A young black man stood behind her shifting nervously on his feet. Katie entered and set the tray down on the nightstand hard enough to slosh the liquid. Katie, it seemed, was coming at her with an attitude right out of the gate, Honor thought, resigned.
“I am here at your invitation! I got the telegram earlier in the evening and left my father’s party to speed here at once to find out what the emergency was,” she said and wished she hadn’t when Katie went all sarcastic on her.
“Aww, poor little rich girl had to leave her grand party. What was it, one of those cotillions? I don’t know what you is talking about. I didn’t send no telegram to Alamieda,” Katie the younger woman snapped indignantly as Honor felt her temper beginning to rise and stood.
“Is that so? Then how do you explain my presence here this evening? I do not know what games you are playing, Katie, but I rode a long way to get here,” She said with a frown at her old friend.
“If Katie said she didn’t send no telegram, then she didn’t send no telegram!” Bessie fumed.
“You Jasper?” Honor asked the man.
“Yes, ma’am,” he began and turned to Katie. “I’m a trifle bit sorry, Miss Katie, but I took the money out of the drawer to pay for it. I hope its okay,” he said.
“It don’t matter about that. What matters is why did you bring her all the way up here. Quillan is gonna be fine, eventually. Weren’t no reason to bring miss high and mighty to Godspell.” Honor’s eyes shifted to Quillan. In the past, he would never have let Katie speak so mockingly of her. Then her eyes went to Bessie, and she understood his silence and she did not like it one bit.
"I strongly suggest you rein in your rebuke of this young man, so he can tell us why he sent for me. Go ahead, Jasper, I am listening." Honor said shooting a glance at Katie. The woman placed her hands on her hips defiantly.
“Miss Katie know why we need you. We gots to get to Mexico right quick to take delivery of the new coach. Knowin’ that I gots to thinkin’, Miss Honor, she could help us,” Jasper said.
“What’s this about a new coach, Quillan?” she asked.
"I done purchased me the finest new coach you ever want to imagine for use on the Jackson Peak run. The seats are plush, and the construction offers the smoothest ride across the bumpy roads. It is craftsmanship at its finest,” Quillan told her proudly. Honor couldn’t help smiling.
“Mexico! Did you get it at the Ybarra Coach Makers?” she asked. It was where her father had purchased his pride and joy. Quillan was smiling too.
“I sure did Hon … Miss Honor!” he answered. Both Katie and Bessie exchanged looks of annoyance at Quillan getting along with her so well. “I remember how you told me how proud your pappy was about that fancy carriage of his. Your stories about riding down there years ago to pick it up in the Verde Abundante Valley kind of stuck with me. I’d been saving for years to buy a new coach for our regular run, but when I decided to toss my hat in the ring for the Jackson Peak run, I just knew I had to get one from the place your daddy got his. So, Bessie and me rode there a couple months ago, told Señor Ybarra what I wanted, and he designed it for me,” Quillan recounted.