Forbidden Moon--The Moon Trilogy--Book Three

by Jane Bonander

  Sage turned and hailed the young man who had helped him load the buggy. “Hey, Cody!”

  The young man loped toward the buggy, a bedroll under his arm.

  “Your first job is to protect these two lovely ladies,” Sage told him.

  The newcomer gave Molly a brief glance, then settled his gaze on Nicolette. A careless, cavalier smile lifted one corner of his handsome mouth. “I think I am going to like this job.” His voice was deep and rich—and meant to charm.

  Molly sneaked a peek at Nicolette and found that her cheeks were red and her eyes unnaturally bright, although she was purposely staring straight ahead. As Molly settled back in her seat, she felt the first stirrings of fear. Would Sage and Buck warn this new hand about Charles? If they didn’t, she was afraid he wasn’t going to be on the job for long, and he certainly wouldn’t leave of his own free will.

  Five

  Molly stood at the salon window, gazing out at the distant cliffs. Green-gray clay swirled mutely into the red rock, and the terra-cotta shale was streaked with white gypsum. The massive canyon walls loomed above the valley, standing guard over the gentle swells of earth and water.

  Behind her, Nicolette practiced her scales. Molly winced as she struck the sour middle C. Charles had promised that someone would come and tune the piano, but so far, no one had shown up. She was tempted to do it herself.

  Nearly a month had passed since their trip into Cedarville. Molly had discovered that Buck and Sage had been gone much of that time, mending fences and checking on some wells on Charles’s more distant grazing lands. They had returned just yesterday. Charles, too, had been extraordinarily busy, leaving Molly and Nicolette alone many days and evenings. Not that Molly had seen much of the girl. She’d grown increasingly concerned about Nicolette’s comings and goings.

  After helping Angelita prepare meals for the hands, which she continued to do against Charles’s wishes, Molly spent much of her time in the library, scouring the bookcases for something interesting to read. Hidden behind some volumes of Shakespeare, she’d discovered a real find: A stack of dime novels she’d carefully confiscated and taken to the privacy of her room. Joyously, she’d immersed herself in stories of Malaesaka, The Indian Wife of the White Hunter, the blood and thunder tale of Bess, The Trapper, whose long black hair was suspiciously Indian-like, but who the author assured was unmistakingly Caucasian. And her favorite, Hurricane Nell, The Queen of the Saddle and Lasso.

  Molly was oddly appeased that Bess and Nell had ended up in polite society, married to men with names like “Frank” and men who had upstanding occupations, like “Cecil,” who was a lawyer from Philadelphia. It gave her foolish hope that all would be well between her and Charles.

  Had Charles been home more, Molly suspected that Nicolette would have, too. But she’d discovered the new hand, Cody, and had spent as much time as she dared with him. Naturally, Molly disapproved, especially since she saw flashes of herself in what Nicolette was doing.

  Not two nights before, she’d been in the kitchen getting herself a glass of milk when Nicolette had crept in through the kitchen door, unaware that Molly was there. The girl had nearly jumped out of her skin when she’d heard Molly’s voice, but Molly hadn’t apologized. And with Sage and Buck gone, Molly had no one to commiserate with. She surely didn’t dare tell Charles. She’d warned Nicolette so many times that what she was doing was dangerous, but the girl went blithely off, doing as she pleased. It frustrated Molly, and for the first time since she’d left the vineyard, she realized how much misery she’d put everyone else through while she was growing up.

  Nicolette’s behavior caused Molly even more concern, for one night shortly after they had returned from Cedarville, she had a disturbing dream. It was like no other she’d ever had, for even now, weeks later, she could remember every detail. And it had awakened her with such force, she’d sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding like she’d run a mile.

  In the dream, with the clarity of reality, she had seen Nicolette rush from the house dressed for riding, climb onto her spotted mare and ride toward the caprock. But she hadn’t gotten far, for not a half mile from the ranch, she had been overtaken and kidnapped by a band of renegades. Although Molly knew it wasn’t real, she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a premonition. She’d thought to mention it to Charles, but felt foolish putting so much emphasis on a dream.

  The scales stopped. “I’m tired of practicing.”

  Molly swung around, startled. “You haven’t even been at it for half an hour.”

  “I don’t care,” Nicolette said with a pout. “I’m going riding.”

  The alarm went off in Molly’s head. “Oh, Nicolette. I wish you wouldn’t.”

  Nicolette narrowed her gaze. “I finally find someone closer to my own age, and you still don’t approve. I love you dearly, Margaret, but your prejudice is not a very attractive trait.”

  “It’s not that, Nicolette, really. I … it’s just that I had this dream …”

  Nicolette sighed, tapping her foot impatiently. “You’re acting like a worried old woman.”

  Molly surrendered. “You’re right, I suppose. I just think you should at least tell your brother what you’re doing.”

  Nicolette uttered a sharp, humorless laugh. “You know perfectly well what would happen if I did.” She picked at the pocket of her split riding skirt, the one that resembled Molly’s.

  Sadly, Molly knew she was right. Cody was not the kind of boy Charles would approve of for his sister. He could perform deeds of heroic proportions, and Charles still wouldn’t find him suitable. She briefly pressed her palms against her eyes. “You’re not only looking for trouble for yourself, but for Cody as well.”

  “But you won’t tell on me, will you?”

  Molly felt her stomach tense. “I hate keeping these secrets, Nicolette, and I don’t like being put in the middle of this. I also worry about you. It isn’t safe to ride around out there alone.”

  “Well, I won’t be alone. And anyway,” Nicolette mumbled petulantly, “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

  “You’re seeing the boy behind your brother’s back. That’s wrong. And you’re asking me to keep your secret. That’s unfair.” Weeks ago, when Nicolette started sneaking out of the house to meet Cody, Molly had realized that dealing with Nicolette was her penance for her own unruly childhood.

  Nicolette looked at Molly long and hard. “If you break my confidence, I’ll never trust you again.” She slid off the piano bench and ran from the room, leaving Molly fretting in her wake.

  Molly sat down at the piano and played a furious Bach invention, all the while telling herself she shouldn’t keep Nicolette’s activities from Charles. If something did happen to the girl, Molly would never forgive herself. But somehow, she couldn’t break Nicolette’s confidence, either.

  As Molly played, she thought of her own predicament: Buck Randall and his Cedarville whore. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d successfully avoided the bastard since their return, and sincerely hoped the woman had given him the clap.

  Her musings returned to Nicolette and Cody. Surely Sage and Buck had warned Cody about Charles’s prejudices. Frowning, she stopped playing and stared at the window. Maybe if she could find Sage and tell him what was happening with the two young people, they could prevent a tragedy.

  She slid off the bench and left the salon. As she passed Charles’s office, she noted the door was closed, a sign that he was in there with someone. Suddenly, she realized that he was always busy with something or someone else. She had no doubt things would stay that way even after they were married. He’d built an empire, and it required most of his time. Strangely, today she was relieved that it was so.

  She hurried outside. The bright morning sky shimmered against the striated canyon walls in the distance. The air was warm, the fragrance from Angelita’s little flower garden drifted on the wind. Molly glanced around, then strode purpos
efully toward the barn, hoping to find Sage alone.

  Instead, she found Buck, who was repairing a bridle in the tackroom. He glanced up at her briefly, then returned to his work. “Visiting the peasants again?”

  She held her tongue, wishing she’d found Sage. “I think you should know that Nicolette has gone off riding with Cody, and this isn’t the first time.”

  He stopped working. “So that’s where he’s been going.”

  “Have either you or Sage warned him about flirting with Nicolette?”

  He returned to his task. “That’s the first thing we did, Molly.”

  “But … but he didn’t listen. Why would he be so careless?”

  “He’s a randy kid. Cocky, too. And Nicolette feels smothered by her brother’s possessiveness. Tell me,” he said, turning to look at her. “How many times did you take anyone’s advice when you were Nicolette’s age?”

  Molly faltered. Leave it to him to dredge up her unsavory past. “Not often, as you well know.” She nervously paced the tiny area. “I suppose it’s because I know how stubborn a girl can be, and how much trouble it can cause, that I worry about her. And she’s in far greater danger than I ever was.”

  He looked at her again, his sultry gaze piercing her. “You’re sure of that?”

  The question, so soft and deadly, sent a vision through her mind of Buck seducing her. It was a fantasy, of course, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and that both frightened and angered her. Suddenly, she was sick of the cat-and-mouse game they’d been playing since she arrived. “Let’s get this over with, once and for all. I’m tired of all the innuendoes. Let’s just clear the air, all right?”

  He hung the bridle on a hook, crossed his arms over his chest and smirked at her. It was nearly her undoing, but she forced herself to continue.

  “It’s true. I threw myself at you when I was fourteen. It was a foolish, careless mistake, but I learned a valuable lesson from it. That’s why I can understand what Nicolette is doing, and know why it’s so dangerous and so very wrong.”

  “Why?”

  With nervous fingers, she smoothed back her unruly hair. “It’s … it’s just wrong. She’ll get into troub—”

  “No,” he interrupted.

  She shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you throw yourself at me?”

  She squirmed, suddenly remembering clearly every time she’d tried to seduce him. “Because I was just a wild, foolish girl. I was unhappy with who I was. I had … had all these feelings,” she said, clasping her hands over her chest, “that confused me.

  “Don’t get too smug,” she added, noting his interest. “You represented every terrible value any man possessed. I was lucky I got away when I did. Like I said, I was foolish. Stupid. But, you were wilder than I had any hopes of being. I envied that. You had freedom that, as a girl, I couldn’t have. Everything you did and everything you were seemed so exciting. You were forbidden fruit. You were a man, not a boy. You were a drunk. You were married. And …”

  She turned away so she didn’t have to look at him. “And you didn’t know I was alive.” She was quiet for a long time. “I thought the only way to get your attention was to act as wild as you and pretend to hate you with every fiber of my being.”

  The quiet was deafening. Molly immediately regretted showing such an intimate part of herself to this man who represented the dangerous side of her youth.

  He moved behind her, shifting his weight. “We were talking about Nicolette and Cody.”

  The cold, hard edge to his voice made her stomach hurt, reminding her that fantasies were foolish wastes of time. “Well, you asked me.”

  “And I heard your answer. Now let’s get back to Nicolette and Cody.”

  Humiliated, she nodded, forcing out a shaky, “Yes.”

  “I’ll talk to him again, as soon as he gets back.”

  “You’d better pray they come back,” she answered, turning to leave. Embarrassed anger surfaced. “Been in to Cedarville to see your little whore lately?” Her voice had the sharp, harsh shrill of a jealous fishwife’s.

  “What business is that of yours?”

  She swung around and glared at him. “Oh, it’s no business of mine. I was just hoping she’d given you a good, juicy case of the clap.”

  He appeared unaffected by her cruel wishes. “I wouldn’t get too nasty, if I were you.”

  “Oh? And just why is that?”

  He smirked, the devil made dent delving into his cheek. “I could still tell your sweet Charles exactly what you are.”

  She stared at him, unwilling to believe he would do it. But then, why wouldn’t he? She hadn’t exactly ingratiated herself toward him these past weeks. “Do what you have to do. Perhaps it’s time Charles knows the truth—about all of us.”

  Turning briskly away, she left the barn. She hadn’t meant to dare Buck to talk with Charles. But his obvious disinterest in her as a teenager had stung, clouding her thinking. She wondered what she’d expected. That he’d confess that he’d always felt something for her, too? Lord, she was such a fool. All of that had been better left unsaid. All of it. And now, she’d as much as begged him to tell Charles her secret.

  With new resolve, she marched to the house, vowing to keep a keen eye on Renegade Randall. She would still tell Charles what she was, but it would be her way—not Buck’s. That meant making sure she was around whenever he came in to talk with the man she fully intended to marry.

  Sage emerged from the back of the barn. Buck glanced at him, then at the barn door. “Eavesdropping, again?”

  Sage gave him an embarrassed smile and threw up his hands helplessly. “I always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sorry.”

  “Forget it,” Buck said. “Better you than someone else. You heard everything?”

  Sage nodded. “That damned kid is going to get himself killed.”

  “Yeah, maybe we should have gone with our gut instinct and found someone older.”

  “Probably,” Sage answered. “But Cody was so enthusiastic about everything.” He gave Buck a grim smile. “I guess it was catchy.”

  “And, don’t forget he was the only one of the bunch who was sober,” Buck tossed back.

  Sage was quiet for a moment. “Why didn’t you explain to her about Nita?”

  Swearing, Buck swung away from him. “It’s none of her business.”

  “You’re right. It isn’t. But if she knew why—”

  “It doesn’t matter. She never will,” Buck interrupted tersely.

  Sage stared at him and finally shrugged. “You’re determined to let her think the worst of you, aren’t you?”

  “Why not? It gives her so much pleasure,” he answered, his voice filled with scorn.

  “And you’ve always wanted to give her pleasure, haven’t you?”

  That anyone, even Sage, suspected how Buck felt about Molly brought him a twinge of fear. In spite of her venomous words and her obvious disgust at what she viewed was his life-style, her safety was the most important thing to him. If anyone else ever got wind that he knew her, she’d be doomed. “Don’t insinuate that ever again, my friend.”

  Sage brought one hand up defensively. “No harm intended.” He gave Buck a grim smile. “My life may not be a party, but I sure as hell wouldn’t want to be in your dancing shoes.”

  Giving him a bleak nod, Buck placed the repaired bridle back on the hook with the others and left the barn.

  Molly sat at the small mahogany fold-out desk in her room, finishing a letter to her mother. She’d tried to be entertaining, but the words had come hard. The embarrassment of her encounter with Buck a few days before hadn’t dissipated. She wondered if Buck had written his family, telling them she was there. She couldn’t bring herself to mention his name in her letter. It was easier to omit all of the unpleasantness than try to reveal something she knew she’d have trouble explaining.

  The window near her bed was open
, the curtains fluttering in the breeze. Now and then she caught a noise from outside, one that was muffled, yet sharp. Curious, she rose from the desk and crossed to the window, trying to pinpoint the sound. She heard it again, and although she couldn’t identify it, the frequency and tone alarmed her. It seemed to be coming from the shed behind the barn.

  She hurried from her room, rushed down the stairs and ran through the kitchen to the back door. Angelita stood on the stoop, wringing her hands, staring in the direction of the shed. They exchanged brief glances, and Molly saw rage in the housekeeper’s eyes.

  Lifting her skirts, Molly ran down the steps and over the grass. As she neared the shed, she no longer wondered what the sound was. The vicious, methodical crack of a whip made her pause, but only briefly. She pulled on the door, almost surprised to find it unlocked.

  Light flooded the enclosure, freezing Hiram Poteet with his beefy arm raised, ready to flog his victim again.

  “You,” he growled, turning to face her. “Get the hell outa here.”

  Her fury nearly blinded her. “Stop hitting him!” she screamed, hurling herself at the ugly overseer. Fearless, she pulled at the whip, which Poteet held tightly, and tried to wrench it away from him.

  To her surprise, the overseer lowered his arm, but wouldn’t release the whip. “You ain’t supposed to be here, missy.”

  Molly rushed to Cody and though her fingers shook with angry tremors, she was finally able to untie him. Glancing up into his handsome face, she noted the defiant pain that pooled in his eyes.

  “Are you all right?” At his terse nod, she examined his injuries. Raised red welts, some coursing blood, crisscrossed his back.

  The door of the shed opened again, and she knew the cruel overseer had left. “This has to be taken care of,” she said quietly, sitting down beside Cody.

  He refused to look at her, but his mutinous profile told her that he’d born similar indignities in his life, and this was nothing new.