The Forbidden Ranch: Honor Elizabeth Wilde Tale 0f Suspense (Half Breed Haven Book 5)

by A. M. Van Dorn

  Both said nothing as they walked down the alley which was a neat and narrow path having the ends of two famous buildings in town on both of its sides. The back wall of the town’s famous saloon was at the right and had few crates and barrels neatly arranged beside it. The other back wall to the left belonged to Hillary’s, a small establishment, notorious for keeping men so busy late in the night that they could walk out the next morning, looking rougher but happier.

  “So, what are we going to do, Daddy? It is somewhat of an odd time to be leaving. I think it is too late to head back to Cedar Ledge now,” Honor finally said, ending the ensuing silence between them as they crossed the alley.

  “I agree, Buttercup. We’ll stay over one more night here,” her father responded contentedly. “But it is far too early to get dinner. There is still much of the day left.”

  “Whatever shall we do …?” Honor pondered again, already prepared to think of various things they could do for the meantime.

  “Actually, there is something I would like to do while we are in Casper’s Crossing,” Whip interrupted before she could get right on to thinking about them. “Just outside of town, the Grand Western Railroad is building that huge trestle. As you know, Lijuan recently got us awarded the contract to supply the railroad ties. They will be used going over the trestle and beyond. Their former supplier kept letting them down and got them behind,” he said.

  “Yes, Lijuan was very pleased, landing that one,” Honor said, smiling.

  “It will be lucrative,” Whip said, smiling too. “But more than that, it will be the first test for your brother, Blue River, seeing as how we just put him in charge of the timber operation following Walt Jefferies’ retirement from the mill.”

  “Such responsibility for a young man; he is just twenty years old now,” Honor said.

  “Your brother will be up for it, mark my words. Come, let’s ride out and see this trestle. I hear it is a remarkable structure,” The judge finished.

  They had unconsciously covered the rest of the alley very fast as they talked. They were about to climb onto the bench seat of the coach when two men wearing hoods over their heads approached and stood at the end of the carriage. The bigger of the two, a large burly man carried a club. The other was a tall, thin, beanpole of a man.

  “Do you wish for me to handle this? I would be more than glad to,” Honor said conversationally to her father.

  “No, dear. I can wrap this up quickly. I suggest you two idiots go on home before you do something you regret,” the judge told the two thugs.

  “You’re the one who will be having regrets,” the burly one said, his voice charged with a familiar angry tone. It was impossible not to note who it belonged to.

  “Take off that mask. The hood is muffling your voice, but not enough. I know it’s you, Nate Clegg, you damn fool,” Judge Wilde scoffed. “You are wearing the same clothes you had on not more than half an hour ago. It makes me wonder where you got those hoods, though. Your brother should have been wearing one when he stole the cattle from the Chase’s ranch. He wouldn’t have been recognized then,” the judge put to the two men.

  As expected, and being the dumb man that he was, the bigger man looked at the other man and nodded. They removed their hoods then, confirming their true identities. It was indeed Nate and his partner. The tall, thin man was almost bald with a pockmarked face that looked like the craters of the moon Honor loved to observe with her fancy telescope back in her room at Cedar Ledge. The thin man looked Honor over, taking in her voluptuous figure and whistled.

  “I agree with my friend, Tigh here. That’s a fine little piece of brown sugar you got on your arm there, Judge. A man of your age too,” Nate said with a leering smile.

  “She grow up one of your slaves before the war?” Tigh asked crassly.

  The judge’s face flushed, his eyes already narrowed with irritation and anger at their disrespect of his little girl.

  “She is my daughter!” He growled at them angrily.

  “Your daughter?” Nate asked, confused.

  “But she’s colored!” Tigh added stupidly.

  Honor, who had calmly held her silence, glanced at her father in surprise now, wondering why the man would state such an obvious thing.

  “Daddy, please let me handle this,” she whispered under her breath, her hand already moving on to the knife she strapped to her waist, happy this time it was available to her. Despite her love for dresses, she liked having it handy making it quite the unusual accessory. It was for cases such as this that she was glad that she did, despite that her father dismissed her with a wave, still insisting that he could handle it without any hassle.

  “I’ve got this, Honor dearest,” he said softly. “Now look. So far, you boys haven’t broken any laws. Why don’t you go home and save yourself a heap of trouble?” He turned to the men, trying to be reasonable.

  Nate shook his head and moved towards them with his club. He probably thought they were unprepared for any imminent attack, but the judge proved him wrong by unlocking his arm from Honor’s and opening the carriage door, slamming it forward into his face. It knocked the man to the ground instantly. Tigh took a few steps forward at the same time, but Whip was onto him as well. He opened his Western duster revealing his Colt .45 that could clearly be seen on his belt, warning Tigh of any further movement.

  "Go on home now, and be glad I don't summon the sheriff on you," Whip said harshly.

  Tigh, apparently smarter than Nate, nodded and stepped back just as Nate struggled to his feet with a bleeding nose and angry pair of eyes. Both exchanged a frightened look, though and stalked off, dejected. Whip didn’t bother to watch their retreating backs; he slowly took out his pipe and loaded it with tobacco from a small pouch.

  "Shall we be on our way?" he asked afterward.

  “Absolutely,” Honor responded as if nothing had happened.

  They climbed up onto the bench seat together, each with a smile on their faces, and drove off.

  It was a pleasant ride to the trestle. Along the way, Whip had relayed to her that he had sent a telegram to her uncle and his brother-in-law, Nathaniel Duvalier, the territorial governor. Nathanial had a few friends back in Washington and he had promised Whip he would ask them to look into the businessman, Meriwether Dumont, who was under consideration for an ambassadorship. This pleased Honor to hear that wheels were now being greased that might bring about the downfall of such a horrible man.

  She thought of Josiah now. As she had said they had faced no trouble when she had explained the entire situation to Whip and the sheriff the morning after they had made love. The man had been very relieved and had come out of his interview with the sheriff whistling a happy tune. While he had been giving his statement, Honor had been busy doing her best to help him as well.

  As a teenager, she had attended an all colored school for privileged Negroes in Philadelphia. Honor had telegrammed one of her old classmates and friends whose family provided the best lodging for colored people that could be found in New York City. She had told her friend that she could recommend a most wonderful chef for the hotel restaurant. Her friend had agreed to meet with Josiah if he would come to New York.

  Josiah was thrilled at the prospect but was unsure of how he would get there. Honor had tried to pay for his passage, but he had refused. Unknown to him on the way out of town she had stopped the carriage at his house and slipped the bank draft under his door that would cover a steamer out of Houston, Texas, to get him to Manhattan. She truly hoped it would work out for him in New York and he could lead the kind of life that he deserved with his incredible culinary talents.

  When at last they had arrived at the destination the pair found the sight of the new structure was even more wonderful, than they had imagined. The Wildes parked the carriage and climbed a high vantage point, overlooking the massive trestle that bridged the divide over the sinister-sounding Devil’s Canyon. Honor had plucked out a pair of binoculars she always brought with her on their travels
. She had an avid interest in seeing new things and wanted to be able to get a closer look at them. They both scanned the impressive-looking thing with the field glasses and felt a sense of pride, knowing that fine Cedar Ledge timber would soon be a part of this monument to progress.

  Afterward, the pair had traveled back to Casper’s Crossing and the judge had asked to be dropped at the general store. He had used up his supply of tobacco on the trip. The plan was for Honor to then take the carriage to the livery stable and meet back at their rooms before dinner in the hotel.

  The first night of their stay in the town, they had encountered a reluctance to let Honor into the dining room. Whip had quickly shut down that line of thought. The formidable nature of Honor and her sisters had come directly from the judge himself. Before she drove off, leaving him at the store, she asked him to pick up a box of bullets for her holster. The only ones left were in the gun, and she wanted to be fully armed for their trip home in the morning.

  After securing the carriage at the livery, Honor went back to the hotel. As she crossed over to the hotel, she admired the tiled pavement and the lofty paintings of its three-story structure. She was always one to admire new and artistic structures. She spied their room on the third floor, the only one in the hotel with a verandah which was built with red bricks. It was without a doubt, the finest building in town. As she finally stepped in and climbed the beautifully curled staircases of the lofty establishment, she found her thoughts veering towards her sisters.

  They were currently visiting the fading vineyard that was run by Catalina’s maternal uncle. The vineyard, now in its steep decline, was in Mexico’s Verde Abundante Valley, which was the middle valley in a string of three valleys that started about ten miles from the border on the Mexico side. Separating the border and Los Vallies Tres, as they were known, laid the area dubbed for a good reason as The Badlands—home to many criminals both Mexican and American alike. However, the three sisters traveling together, she knew, would be safe as they could be just as dangerous as any who sought to do them harm.

  She missed being with them, of course. But she was always happy to spend time with her beloved father.

  CHAPTER 10

  * * *

  Honor Elizabeth arrived at the door of their suite, her lips curving into a wide smile. Thinking of her family, especially of her sisters, always got her into such a thoughtful and excited mood. She stepped into the room quickly, the smile on her lips dissolving almost immediately as she realized that something wasn’t quite right with the setting of the large hotel room.

  Her hackles raised and her instincts shot to high alert. She was still clasping tight to the knob of the door as her eyes scanned the walls of the room, her mind calculating all the possible reasons why she felt so unusual, stepping into the room. Her father had paid for the best room in the hotel. As a result, the big room in front of her featured exquisite sofas, a large round table and perfectly washed white curtains.

  A smaller room connected to the large one where a servant could be quartered so that they would be at the beck and call of their employer. The judge was a loving father, though, as well as a gentleman, as he took the dingy little room for himself. Honor had slept in the large room—what easily passed for luxury in Casper’s Crossing—and she could bet the air that she breathed that when they had left, the door to her father’s little room had been shut.

  That was it. That is what is amiss. For the second time that day, her hand fell to the butt of her knife at her hip as she finally realized that someone else was in the room. Her eyes went to the bedpost of the canopy bed where her own Colt .45 hung in its holster, her mind already considering how fast she could get to it as a second weapon. She was too late though, she thought, realizing her mistake. A man suddenly emerged from behind the door she was still holding open and before she could draw her knife, the figure knocked her to the floor.

  Her vision already impaired, she looked up to see the thin man, Tigh from earlier, moving out of her father’s little room. She tried to push herself up and was knocked back down from behind once more.

  Just before her head hit the floor, knocking her out, she saw Tigh holding a length of rope in his hand and approaching her with a wicked smile.

  ***

  A strange thumping sound echoed around her. She couldn’t get rid of the darkness that surrounded her yet, but she knew she was gradually becoming conscious. By the time she realized that the other sounds her ears could pick up were that of her own breath coupled with the sounds of footsteps, her eyes fluttered open, slowly but automatically adjusting to the view in front of her. She realized she was tied and gagged, having been forcibly shoved into a chair by Nate Clegg.

  He was still tying her feet to the chair limbs, but she was still not fully aware or able to fight against it. She tried to focus on what she could see. The table that originally was along the side of one of the walls had now been dragged to the center of the room, positioned less than half a foot away from where she had been tied. Her eyes widened at the sight of a shotgun that was set up on a brace on the top of the table, pointing at the door. Already feeling riled up, she tried to figure out what the hell was going on while the men spoke.

  “There, she is all tied up. Now let’s get this thing set up,” she heard Nate grin.

  Tigh, his partner, was climbing down from a chair. Her eyes followed a rope that he had attached to the door handle. It went upward, limply. It was draped over two bent nails that had been pounded into the ceiling. That explained the thumping she heard, she thought. She also noticed that the rope's other end hung down next to where the shotgun was situated. Nate went into the spare room, and then came out with a couple handfuls of shotgun shells. He dropped them on the table and picked up the gun on the table. A few shells rolled off the table to the floor, but he ignored them as he handed the gun to Tigh. He examined the shotgun and loaded it with two shells from the table, then affixed it to the brace.

  “You sure this is going to work?” Nate asked his partner.

  “Trust me, I learned this technique when I was doing time at a dirty little prison in Missouri. The guy who showed me was waitin’ out the time to his execution. He got there using this same method to murder someone and was going to hang for it. After I got out, I tried it a few times and it works like a charm. I ain’t never been caught for it or I would’ve been strung up a long time ago,” Tigh answered smugly.

  “How do you like our trap, girl? When that white daddy of yours opens the door, off goes the gun and boom, one less judge in the world,” Tigh added with a chuckle.

  No! I cannot let them kill Daddy! She thought to herself, her eyes intently watching both men as Nate, the burly one, walked over to her with a sneer.

  “You’re tied good, sister, and here is something for tripping my brother before,” he said and slapped her hard enough that her ears rung.

  “Maybe he would have gotten away if you hadn’t done that,” he said, referring to her involvement in the failed escape of Jordan Clegg in the court that morning. “Now he’s gonna be rottin’ in that prison. I love my little brother, but I told him he was a damn fool for trying for those cattle. He talked me into it though,” Nate told her.

  Derisively Honor thought him to be a fool if he had allowed himself to be talked into such an act by his brother. Her eyes narrowed at his admission of his brother’s guilt as well as his involvement making him an even bigger fool in her opinion.

  “Since we’re here, let’s toss the place. Judge Wilde looks pretty well to do. You saw that carriage they got?” Tigh said excitedly.

  The man was truly creepy, Honor thought. Apart from having done time before, he was obviously a crooked thief and was about to attempt an edgy murder of a judge.

  “Good idea, we should find enough loot here. Some of it will pay for what I gave the desk clerk to let us know what room the judge was in,” Nate said with a laugh.

  Honor was a little disgusted with herself for getting into the situation. Her fathe
r would be there any minute and she had to find a way to stop them. She looked around for anything that might help as the jaspers went through their belongings, leaving her alone.

  "Hold up, I got us some rings, a fancy necklace, and a watch. Looks like this one thinks she can prance around in the best jewelry like a white woman," Nate bellowed happily, getting Tigh to abandon his own quest and move over to him.

  “Let me see ’em,” Tigh said, both men momentarily distracted by objects that she hardly thought to be important when she wore them.

  Honor spent the few seconds calculating any possible escape. When her mind finally registered a possibility to foiling their plans, it took all her strength not to mutter the word “YES” with all the foresight of freedom that ran through her body already. I have a chance if they fail to notice me, she thought to herself.

  “Let’s keep looking, Tigh. There’s got to be more. I’ll bet they’ve got cash stowed around here,” Nate was muttering just feet away from her.

  Idiots to the core, Honor thought as fortunately, it didn't even occur to the men to try and force information out of her about what valuables they might have in the room and where to find them exactly. Over the next five minutes, she slowly and quietly edged her chair closer to the table; just a little bit at a time to avoid them noticing. Part of her thought she could hurry because the two men were morons, but she remembered another warning from Cassie.

  “Never lose patience, take your time. Even when you think it isn’t necessary, do it. It could mean life or death,” she had told Honor once, during the training she had given her sisters.

  So, Honor held onto her patience and kept slowly inching closer to the table, little bit by little bit. She froze when she saw Nate stiffen at the window, her heart dropping with the thought that the fool had noticed her.