Aunt Mabel's eyes brightened slightly. "It's where you belong, Honora." Mabel glanced out the window. "This was your home. And it is your home again. For as long as you need it."
"You're so very kind, Aunt," Honora replied.
Mabel frowned. "I couldn't possibly have allowed you to stay in that wretched city. Not after what happened." Mabel groaned. "I couldn't have lived with myself if you'd come to harm the way your dear parents did."
Honora sighed. "And I'm so grateful to you," she replied, trying not to think of the way her parents had passed away. The suddenness of it. The suffering they'd endured, albeit brief, still awoke sensations of uncontrollable distress. The nightmares hadn't stopped. Even the mention of it was enough to trigger a burning pain in her heart. She wondered if that pain would ever go away.
"I'll let you go for your ride," Mabel announced, releasing Honora.
Honora made her way out to the stable, finding her favorite mare still in the same stall as before. She saddled the horse up and mounted it, riding out across the yard in front of the small, white-fronted ranch house. It hadn't changed a bit since she'd left all those months ago. It wasn't the biggest ranch house, but what it lacked in size it made up for that in comfort. Mabel stood on the porch and waved at Honora as she rode out onto the rangeland. She prompted her mount into a brisk gallop, feeling suddenly relieved to be away from the house.
Honora headed out across the spread, taking in the familiar sights of the wooded valleys, the river and the flatlands. She soon found the herd which was being looked after by half a dozen ranch hands, most of whom she recognized. She exchanged greetings with them, enjoying the obvious delight on the faces of some of the men. They seemed glad to see her back home. She was sure the men were trying real hard to be nice to her. Trying not to talk about the passing of her parents. Everyone knew what had happened out in California. Everyone knew that her parents were dead, each killed in the city's recent outbreak of cholera.
All the ranch hands were sympathetic to her, expressing their condolences. She was thankful for their support. She hung around a while, finding out how the herd was doing. It was a couple of hundred head now, bigger than it had been a year ago. She learned that the herd would soon be taken to market to be sold. That would involve a drive. Honora asked questions about that. As she listened to the ramrod's description of the upcoming drive to market, she could tell that everything appeared to be in control. At least her Uncle Rufus' apparent reluctance to get involved in the ranch's affairs hadn't prevented the successful rearing of the herd. At least that was something to be thankful for, Honora reflected as she rode off.
She headed west, knowing full well that it would take her in the direction of the Buchanan spread. After a short ride, she saw the long line of border posts, stretching in a steady line from north to south, that separated her spread from the Buchanan's. Her spread. She hadn't entertained that thought in a long while. Now she was back, maybe she would have to get used to the idea that she belonged here, just as her Aunt Mabel had said. Although, the ownership of the spread was firmly with her aunt and uncle now, the deed having been transferred over by Honora's father before their departure to California. But, still, there would always be a part of Honora that felt, somehow, this land belonged to her. She gazed around as she rode, taking in the beauty of the spread. She felt connected to this place. It might take a long time before she got rid of that feeling, she told herself.
She drew her mount to halt and gazed out across at her neighbor's holdings. The Buchanan spread was much bigger than the MacLeish's. She knew that, having spent so much time there. Aunt Mabel had hinted at something going on over there, on the other side of the border between the spreads. It was none of her business, she told herself, as she sat upright, holding onto the saddle's pommel. She and the Buchanans were history.
Honora didn't know what kind of trouble the Buchanans might be going through, but, right now, that was the least of her concerns. The Buchanans always looked after their own, she told herself. They didn't let anything stand in the way of getting what they needed. One member of the family had convinced her of that.
Honora guided her mount closer to the boundary until she was right up against the fencing. She leaned out and rested her hand on one of the thick, wooden poles which were linked by barbed wire. The fencing felt solid. Immoveable. This was what separated her life from that of the Buchanans. It felt permanent. A barrier that she would never cross again. And that was fine as far as she was concerned. Especially after what she'd been through with him. With Reese Buchanan.
The breeze swept across the plains, loosening some locks of her blonde hair. She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and tried to empty her mind of all thought. Honora savored the sensation of peace which enveloped her as she sat on the horse. She'd missed so much of this place while she'd been in San Francisco. The contrast between the life on the ranch and the city life had been almost too much to bear. But, her father had been tempted, just like so many people in this world, Honora told herself. The promises of the burgeoning city had proved difficult for him to resist. So, he had taken himself, Honora and her mother, in spite of some strongly expressed reservations. He'd tried to suggest it might be temporary. That they could come back if it didn't work out.
Honora smiled sadly. Her father had had a strong spirit of his own. He hadn't been the kind of man to back down, once he got an idea into his head. Ambitions had proven costly.
Too costly, Honora reflected as she opened her eyes. She squinted, gazing across into the Buchanan spread, and felt a sudden unease. A lone horseman was heading her way. She released her hand from the border post and tugged on her reins. The horseman was beating a hasty and determined path straight for her. She could hear the pounding of the horse's hooves on the hard-packed earth. Honora thought about just riding off, letting whoever it was on the other side wonder who she was. She wasn't sure she wanted to talk with anyone. But, something deep inside made her hesitate. She narrowed her eyes. The rider was closer now.
Honora's heart quickened. Breath hitched in her chest as she looked closely at the rider. Her throat tightened, and she was seized by the sudden urge to turn and ride as fast as her mount would carry her.
But, she didn't. Inexplicably, she held her ground. Maybe because she didn't want to be seen running away again. Perhaps because she didn't want to give him that easy victory.
Because, the man who was riding straight toward her was Reese Buchanan. The second oldest Buchanan brother, barely a few years older than her, and the man who, only a year ago, had broken her heart.
CHAPTER TWO
Reese Buchanan drew his mount to a sudden halt and stared in disbelief across the border posts. For a long moment, he was sure he was seeing things. He blinked and then squinted his eyes, peering disbelievingly at the rider on the other side of the border fence.
It was her! Honora MacLeish was right in front of him, as plain as day, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He thought he must be dreaming. Honora had left. She was supposed to be in California with her parents. Hadn't she told him she'd probably never come back? What was she doing here?
"Honora!" he gasped as he guided his horse closer to the line of border posts.
Her eyes widened as she watched him edge closer to her. Her horse, as if sensing her tension, shifted nervously. But, she held her reins tight. He remembered she was good on horses. Had always been able to control them.
"Reese," she replied, clearly surprised to see him.
He gasped. "What are you doing here?"
She stiffened in the saddle and peered straight at him. He thought she was going to say something, but her expression changed suddenly and she lowered her head, breaking eye contact with him.
Reese moved his horse until it was right up against the border fence. If he wanted, he could have reached out and touched Honora, but he knew she wouldn't want him to do that. Not after what they'd been through together. "I can't believe you're here," he s
aid incredulously.
Honora lifted her head and gazed at him. "Here I am," she said with a lift of her shoulders. Her voice was soft, and he could hear the slight quiver of emotion. Clearly, this was as surprising for her as it was for him.
She was still as beautiful as ever, he told himself. Those icy blue eyes, that lustrous blonde hair, the oval face, features perfectly balanced, with the high, arched brows. The defiant, upright bearing. She looked elegant in the green gown she was wearing. In spite of himself, he felt emotion shift inside himself. Reminders of the past. He felt his face flush and did his best to disguise his reaction. Her eyes narrowed slightly. He never could hide much from her, he told himself.
"What are you doing here?" he ejaculated. He smiled at her. Even though they hadn't parted on the best of terms, he still wanted her to know he was pleased to see her. "What happened in California? Did your parents change their mind?"
He saw her gaze darken, and wondered what had caused that sudden change. She swallowed and glanced away from him. He could see she was considering how to reply to his question.
Then, she drew herself up and peered at him. "Haven't you heard?"
He squinted at her. "Heard what?"
She frowned. "My parents are dead, Reese," she declared.
Reese felt his entire weight suddenly bear down upon the saddle. He grasped the pommel, closing his fist tight around it. Something in his gut felt hard. "They're what?" he demanded.
"Dead," she pronounced in a heavy voice. The word lingered on the breeze.
He felt the blood drain from his face as he gazed across at Honora. "What are you talking about, Honora? How can they be dead?"
She dragged in a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. He could see pain in those eyes. The kind of pain that no-one should feel. "Cholera."
The word hit him like a hammer blow. "What!" he exclaimed.
She nodded. "There was an outbreak. We were living close to the docks in San Francisco. You know my father was involved in that business." She shrugged. "At least for a while. My mother and father came down with it. Real sudden." She sighed. "They didn't last more than a few days."
Reese felt like he'd been kicked in the gut by a horse. "I don't believe it," he said, lifting his gaze to the wide, blue Montana sky. He felt the world was spinning. His heart was pounding and that just made it impossible for him to think what he could say to her. How he could even begin to utter consoling words.
Reese shifted his mount, frustrated that he couldn't cross the border posts. Of course, if he'd wanted he could have jumped the fence. Gone to comfort her. But, the way Honora was looking at him, with that steady gaze, told him she wanted him to stay right where he was. On the other side of the fence. "I'm so sorry, Honora," he said. "I'm real sorry to hear that." And he meant it.
She nodded. "Thank you, Reese." There was a coolness in her voice.
The sound of his name on her lips caused emotion to flicker into life in him. Memories flooded into his mind. Memories of better times. "And you, Honora?"
She squinted at him. "What about me?"
"You didn't get sick?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Seems I was spared," she announced in a resigned voice. "God protected me. Saved me, I guess." There was pain in that voice, Reese told himself. Once again, the impulse to leap across the border fence seized him. But, as before, he could see in her eyes that she didn't want him any nearer. Not while she was sharing such devastating news. He could hardly imagine what she'd been through. But, some part of him was relieved she hadn't gotten sick.
"Thank God," he exclaimed.
That caused her to gaze at him. He knew why she would do that. Memories of conversations they'd had a year go drifted into his mind. But now wasn't the time to dredge up that subject. She needed comforting words. The problem was, Reese wasn't exactly an expert at saying those kind of things. Never had been. But, he decided to try.
"Your parents were such good people, Honora. I'm devastated that this has happened to them. Your pa and I mightn't always have seen eye to eye, but he had such a good heart." Pressing on, Reese gazed across at Honora. She was watching him carefully, listening to his every word. "And your ma was real special, too. A wonderful person who always tried to make me feel at home." He sighed heavily. He felt frustration boil up inside him. "This ain't right. It just ain't the way it was supposed to be."
As he finished speaking, he saw her shoulders slump slightly, as if his words had touched her somehow. She nodded. "Those are kind words, Reese. Thank you. But, maybe you're wrong." She peered at him. He could see the pain in her eyes. But there was also a steadiness to her gaze. "Perhaps it was meant to be."
He saw her lips tighten into a thin line. He knew she was holding something back. Holding back what she really thought about the tragedy. What it might really mean to her.
Knowing the dangers that lay down that path, recalling their previous conversations of long ago, he continued. "And you?" Reese asked. "Are you home for good?"
She lifted a brow. "Home?" she asked. "My aunt and uncle own this ranch now. I'm sure you know this isn't my home any more. I can't even call it the MacLeish ranch now. It's the Ferguson place. My uncle's name is on the deed."
He frowned. "But, surely your aunt and uncle are happy to see you back here," he said. He paused. "I am," he added softly. The impulse had been impossible to resist. The words had leaped out of him before he'd had a chance to stop them.
Amazingly, she smiled at him. She gave him an appreciative look. The sight of that smile warmed his heart. He felt blind-sided by that smile. Just like so many times in the past. It could still knock all the resistance clean out of him.
"And you, Reese? What's going on with you, these days?" she asked.
Reese deliberated for a few moments, figuring whether he should tell her about the problems on the ranch. The fact that Calhoun was circling like a vulture, trying to take pieces of it from the family. But, he reckoned he shouldn't tell her any of that. Instead he opted for what he thought was good news. "Zane and Gideon both got married," he stated.
Her brows lifted in a line. She smiled, and again he felt a part of him lift in response. "Married? The both of them?"
Reese nodded. "They sure did. As fast as you like."
"Who did they marry? Anyone I should know?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Newcomers to town, both of them. But, mighty fine ladies." He tipped his hat back and smiled at Honora. "My brothers are both real happy." He chuckled. "And that's putting it mildly. They've each settled on a separate part of the ranch."
"They're not all living in the big house?" she asked.
He felt like he'd opened up a can of worms, creating more questions that would need answers. "They're taking up parts of the ranch that we've been planning to use for a while now. Got little cabins, too. Nice and cozy."
She frowned. He could see she wasn't convinced by his explanation. "I'm pleasantly surprised," she said. "I always knew Gideon was the marrying kind. Him being devout and all. But, Zane always promised to be the one who'd hold out."
"You know Zane," Reese said. "He's a stubborn one. But, Johanna, that's his wife, she knows how to deal with him." He laughed. "And they've only just married."
"Zane hides his heart behind that tough exterior," she admitted.
"I guess love conquers all," Reese announced. He wondered if mentioning that word had been a mistake.
Honora peered at him for a long moment. "I suppose it does," she replied. "You still haven't answered my question," she added. "What are you up to, these days?"
He wondered what he could tell her. That he had been avoiding all the fuss that had overtaken the Buchanan household? How he'd been doing his best to make sure he wasn't going to have to marry a stranger, even though it seemed to have worked out fine for Zane and Gideon. Could he tell her any of that? Or wouldn't that be best left for another time. Because, he was sure he was going to see her again. Inspiration was too small a town for him and Honora to
avoid each other.
The Rancher’s Second Chance Bride Page 2