by Sara Orwig
She tried to listen to Edwin as they danced on the hard-packed ground, but she was thinking about Luke taking his hat and leaving. Was he riding home alone early? And if he was, had he left because of her?
She lifted her chin. All her life she’d had folks not want to associate with her, and she had survived their taunts and coldness. She would survive Luke’s indifference as well, but it hurt. She looked at Ginny Anderson again and her golden hair. Why hadn’t Luke stayed to dance some more with Ginny or any others? Honor felt old inadequacies plague her. The only female really close in her life was Dolorita, and there were some things she could not discuss even with Dolorita. Honor was uncertain about herself, felt inadequate where men were concerned, yet to her surprise, she had danced almost every dance she wanted to tonight. All she wished was that one of the dances had been with Luke.
When they arrived home it was almost three in the morning. As Pa turned the wagon toward the barn, Honor glanced at the dark bunkhouse and wondered if Luke had ridden home or gone to town to see some of his women friends.
She helped unhitch the team and then went to her room. There she went to the window to sit in the moonlight and remember watching Luke dancing with Ginny, laughing at her, his hand on her waist, his white teeth showing. And occasionally he would lean forward to whisper in Ginny’s ear and make her laugh. Honor sighed with longing.
The next Friday she walked beside her father as they entered the barn. Her gaze swept over it quickly, and she felt a swift spurt of disappointment that Luke wasn’t around. She saddled a gray mare and mounted, riding out next to Pa.
“Dusty and the others are trying to round up that herd of mustangs and bring them in to break them. It shouldn’t take us long to join them. Dusty said the horses have been near Rim Creek for the past week.”
“They may have crossed the creek onto the Lazy R land.”
“Dusty said they were still on our land, but that’s why we’re bringing them in.”
She rode quietly beside her father, summer sunshine hot on her shoulders. Wild lantana, red cedar sage, and yellow black-eyed Susans dotted the rolling green hills with bright spots of color.
“Did you know Luke once thought about being a lawyer?” she said, her thoughts drifting to Luke.
“No, I didn’t,” Pa answered, glancing at her. “Luke keeps his past to himself. Honey, I’ve been thinking about you. I think it’s time now that you have some polish. You’ll be a woman soon. I’ve put off telling you this so you wouldn’t worry about it all summer, but when September comes, I’m sending you East to school.”
Stunned, Honor stared at him, the day suddenly becoming etched in her mind, her awareness of the soft thud of hooves, the smell of summer grass, the warmth of the sun on her shoulders, all becoming unforgettable in the shock of his announcement. And September was less than three weeks away!
“Pa, I can’t do that! I don’t want to leave home or leave you! This is where I belong.” She couldn’t believe she had heard him correctly. Never before in her life had Pa said anything about sending her away from home, and she couldn’t imagine leaving. She looked up at him and felt a cold knot form in the pit of her stomach because once his mind was set, Pa usually wouldn’t back down.
“Honey,” he said, glancing at her as they rode south, “you’re a woman, and you won’t be able to run this place without a man. Someday I expect to turn the place over to Jeddy. You’ll marry, and you’ll go off with your husband and your life will revolve around him.”
“I don’t want to leave here,” she said, lifting her chin and feeling a stubborn defiance she couldn’t remember ever experiencing before with her father. Beneath it was an icy terror because she knew she couldn’t stop him if he had already made up his mind.
“I wish I could turn it over to you,” he said, gazing in the distance, and Honor’s hopes jumped. “I don’t know that Jeddy will ever be suited for it, but you’ll marry—”
“No, I won’t if it means giving this up! I can marry someone who likes this life like I do and like you do.”
Horace Roth swung his head around to look at her, and there was a sadness in his blue eyes that frightened her more than his firm tone when he talked about sending her away. “Honor, I’ve raised you to ride with me and take charge and run things. You’re good at ranching, and I’m always proud of you, but over the past couple of years I’ve faced the fact that you’ll have a different kind of life ahead of you. It’s time now you learn to be a lady and get your education because you’ll want to marry, and the man you wed may be a banker or have mines or a business far away and so different from this life. You will belong to him as a wife should.”
“I don’t want that, Pa! I don’t want to leave here—”
“Honor, your mother loved her way of life, one that was completely foreign to mine, but she loved me and she came with me as my wife. She gave up all that she loved and had known to be with me and be a wife to me.”
Honor bit her lip and stared at him, blinking and thinking about her mother. “That was different. She had you and loved you.”
“It’s not different. You’ll love the man you marry and he’ll be well-fixed—”
“Suppose he’s not,” she said, suddenly thinking about Luke because she couldn’t imagine any man in her life except Luke. “Suppose he’s one of the men who works for you.”
Horace Roth gazed ahead. “Honey, those men are the only men you know right now. I want you to go East to school, to meet other men, to broaden your world. You’re able to have the best, and you’re turning into a very pretty woman. Childish feelings for the men you’re friends with here will fade away. You’ll see.”
“No, they won’t, Pa!” He swung his head to look at her and he stretched out his arm to touch her shoulder.
“You’re so very young, Honor, so sure of what you want now.”
They approached a canyon and he leaned forward in the saddle. “I don’t know which way the men have gone. They must have headed east or west, or they would be boxed in this canyon and we’d hear them,” he said, promptly dismissing the subject of Honor going to an Eastern school.
“Pa, I don’t want to leave home!”
His gaze swung to her. “We’ll talk about it later, Honor. In the meantime I want you to give it some thought. The time would pass swiftly. It just seems difficult when you think about it now.”
“No. I can’t leave here.”
“Honey, once you’re there, you’ll wonder why you argued about going.” He looked beyond her. “At the moment we have to find the men. We’ll talk later,” he said firmly, and she knew for now, the subject was closed.
“I’ll ride east, Pa, and you head west. How far behind are we?”
“Less than an hour. We ought to find them soon,” he said, turning west. “If you don’t see them in half an hour, Honor, head back this way.”
“Yes, sir.” She flicked the reins and moved east, her thoughts tumbling over the idea of going away from home. She didn’t want to leave, and she would talk Pa out of it. He couldn’t send her away.
There would be plenty of men to court her around home. Although there was only one man she wished would court her, and, so far, he hadn’t even noticed her except to treat her like a little sister. She was growing up, and she knew from other men who worked for Pa and from men and boys in town that she attracted them, but Luke treated her the same way that he had when she was twelve. Except on rare occasions. There were moments when she caught him looking at her, and the expression on his face wasn’t anything like he usually let her see. And the darkening of his green eyes made her pulse jump.
And sometimes when she brushed against him, he would forget what he was saying or turn away as if he were angry. And once this winter, when they were getting cows out of a soggy sandbank in a blinding rain, she had slipped and Luke had caught her, hauling her to her feet. Lightning had flashed while he held her tightly and in the second’s brilliance, he was looking at her mouth with a hungry look that ma
de her breath catch in her throat. Then the lightning was gone, and Luke turned away abruptly. And at the dance the other night there had been one brief moment when he had reacted intensely to her slight touch, so she knew he felt something for her.
She didn’t want to leave Luke or home. She didn’t want some fancy Eastern banker paying court. She bristled thinking about it, only half-seeing where she was headed, her thoughts on the future instead of the present as she angled east and then south without realizing what she was doing. She wound along Rim Creek without noticing the Acheson land on the other side of the swift-flowing stream that emptied into the Medina River.
Half an hour later she heard a rhythmic scraping noise that she couldn’t identify. She urged her horse forward, thinking she would catch up with the H Bar R hands. She rode through a thick growth of scrub oaks, coming out into brush-filled area along the wide creek bed where a silvery stream of water ran. Shovel in hand, Rake Acheson turned to look at her. He was digging, scooping out dirt and tossing it away. Shocked and puzzled, she stared at him and then, as he straightened and came toward her, smiling at her, she realized what he was doing.
“You’re trying to divert our water!” Her shock transformed swiftly into burning rage.
“You have enough for three times as many cattle as your Pa has, and this is turning into a dry year. Don’t get all worked up,” he said, continuing to smile, talking to her as if she were a small child.
“You put the dirt and rocks right back like they were, Rake Acheson! My pa could have you thrown into jail for what you’re doing.”
“No, he can’t. First of all,” Acheson replied with self-assurance, still moving closer to her, “one of my men is sheriff now. He’s not going to put his friend and ex-boss in jail. He knows he’ll need to come back to work for me someday.” He tilted his head sideways, his gaze raking boldly over her. “You’re getting right pretty, Honor.”
“Get back,” she said, a spurt of fear running down her back because Acheson was leering at her and closing the distance between them. She didn’t carry a pistol, but noticed that Acheson wore one.
“I’m going to get Pa, and when he gets back here, you better have that creek bed the way it was.”
“No need to act all huffy and get your pa,” he said, still edging closer. Suddenly his hand shot out and grabbed her reins, yanking them from her hands.
“Stop that—” she snapped, reaching for the reins, fear mingling with her anger.
His hand closed on her upper arm, and his other hand grabbed her waist, yanking her off her horse. She flung herself at Acheson, kicking and struggling to break free. They both went down, tumbling on the ground, Rake rolling on top of her. His strength startled her as she pushed against a solid chest. She screamed, a high piercing cry.
“Shut your mouth, Injun!” Rake slapped her, stopping the scream, the sharp blow stinging her flesh while she stared at him. With one swift move she grabbed his pistol, yanking it from the holster and trying to aim at him.
The shot went wild, the noise sending birds flying, and Rake jerked the revolver from her hands and jammed it back into the holster. He straddled her, pushing her down as he ripped her shirt.
The sound of tearing cloth and the look of lust on his face terrified Honor. He stared at her, and she couldn’t combat his strength.
“Quit fighting me, Comanche. You’ll like it.”
Honor screamed again, and Rake pinned her down, holding her wrists with one hand while he yanked at the buttons on her pants with the other. Hoofbeats pounded against the earth.
Horace Roth broke through bushes, racing toward them. When Honor twisted around to see him, he raised his rifle to fire.
Rake yanked Honor up so Roth couldn’t shoot without hitting her. His hands held her tightly against him, cutting off her breath while she screamed.
“Pa! Get back!”
Rake drew his revolver and fired. Roth was flung out of the saddle, crimson spurting from his chest, as Honor broke free.
Stunned and terrified, Honor raced toward her father as he tumbled from the horse and sprawled on the ground.
Acheson threw himself on his horse and leaned low over it, spurring it on, splashing through the creek and galloping toward a grove of oaks on his own land. Honor could only think of her father while she knelt beside him. Blood pumped from his chest, and he lay still with his eyes closed.
“Pa!”
“Get help—” he whispered.
She grabbed his knife and cut away his shirt, tearing it into strips to bind it around the wound to try to staunch the flow of blood. She yanked up the rifle to fire three quick shots in the air in a signal for help. Unaware of the icy chill that gripped her or the tears streaming down her face, she fastened the remaining buttons on her shirt and pants and pulled her vest closed.
“Pa, I’m going for help,” she cried, and her fear deepened when he didn’t answer.
Honor raced to take Pa’s horse because he would be faster than hers. She glanced back once, feeling as if she couldn’t get her breath; it hurt so badly to leave Pa lying on the ground. She raced toward the house, praying someone had heard the shots and had started her way. In minutes she pulled up the rifle to fire three shots again. Tears streamed unheeded down her cheeks as she galloped recklessly over the rough ground.
She bent low over the sorrel, her sobs torn away by the wind. As she galloped toward home, she glimpsed a movement through the trees.
Luke burst into sight, his bay pounding toward her. She reined in as he slowed, his horse rearing and pawing the air and then settling.
“It’s Pa! He’s shot!”
“Where is he?”
“By the creek. It’s his chest.” She wheeled her horse around and Luke followed, both of them moving dangerously fast over the rugged ground.
The moment she saw Pa, she pointed ahead as she reined in. Luke flung himself off his horse, dropping down by Horace.
He yanked off his shirt and wrapped it around Horace’s chest over the makeshift bandage Honor had made.
“We’ve got to get him to the house,” Honor cried. Luke picked Horace up in his arms.
“I’ll put him in front of me on my horse. You ride ahead and send the first man you see for a doctor. Help me mount up, Honor.” He struggled to get Horace up before him and to mount up behind the injured man.
“Pa,” she said, crying as she helped Luke mount.
“Honor, we have to get him home. We can’t leave him out here.”
“I know,” she said, mounting and giving one last look at Horace before she turned to gallop toward home again. Within minutes she met Dusty and Hank Johnson.
“Pa’s been shot,” she cried. “Luke’s bringing him in, and he said to send someone for Dr. Haberman.”
Dusty nodded, and both men turned, galloping toward the house ahead of her while she went back to find Luke.
By the time they had Horace in his bed, his color was ashen. Luke was bare chested, Horace’s blood smeared across his chest. He strode to the washstand while Dolorita hovered nearby. “Dolorita, get strips of clean cloths for bandages. I’m going to change the bandage and try to clean the wound. Honor, you get out, and I’ll call you when I’m through.”
“I’ll help you,” she said solemnly.
Luke glanced at her, feeling a tight pain in his chest for her because he knew how upset she was. He wanted to ask her what had happened, but right now the only thing on her mind was her pa, so he would wait. And he had seen enough mortal wounds in war to know Horace Roth’s chances of survival were bad.
Luke washed his hands, and Honor tossed out the water, pouring more from the pitcher to wash her hands.
Luke didn’t wait for her or Dolorita as he took out his knife to cut away the strips wrapped around Roth. “Give me whiskey and a clean cloth,” he said to Honor while he worked, and in minutes she set a bottle of whiskey on the table beside him and handed him a cloth. She worked silently, helping him peel away the bloody mass of bandages. S
he disappeared with them, and he bent over Horace, cleaning the wound.
The shot had gone through his body, but with each breath, dark splotches of blood appeared, and Luke worked, grimly worried that Horace Roth wouldn’t live through the night. Finally he bound up the wound, trying to move Horace as little as possible. He turned away to wash his hands while Honor cleaned up after him. She washed her hands and went to sit beside the bed, holding her father’s hand. Jeddy came close to the other side of the bed, tears filling his eyes, and Luke hurt for all three of them.
Horace’s eyes fluttered open. “Honor?”
“I’m here, Pa. Luke bandaged your wounds, and Dusty has gone for Doc Haberman.”
“Jeddy?”
“I’m here, Pa,” the boy said, stepping beside the bed and taking his father’s hand. “Get well, Pa.”
Luke picked up the bottle of whiskey and carried it to the bed, nudging Honor’s shoulder gently and holding out the bottle.
“Pa, would you like some whiskey? It might keep you from hurting so badly.”
“No,” he whispered, turning to look at her. He stroked her cheek.
Luke left the room, going to the kitchen where Dolorita was slicing onions. She glanced around at him, and he gazed into her worried dark eyes and shook his head. She wiped at tears. “I make a stew for him.”
Luke crossed to the cabinet with Horace’s whiskey and removed a bottle, taking a long drink and capping it up. “I don’t know how it happened. Honor must have been with him and I heard the shots she fired for help. The ride home didn’t do him any good either, but I don’t think it would have mattered much whether he’d had to be carried one yard or all that way. He’s hurt badly.”
“My babies,” Dolorita said. “They lost their mother. They should not have this burden. And Señor Roth is a good man.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes.
Luke moved restlessly to the window to stare down the road, wondering how long it would take to get the doc here and knowing that it wouldn’t do much good when he came.