by Sara Orwig
“Thank you for getting me out of there,” she said without turning around. “Uncle Stanton is in a rage, and Aunt Lavinia is her usual tiresome self. She said marrying like this wasn’t proper, that I should have been handed over to Uncle Stanton and sent off to a school to learn how to behave. Instead, Jeddy and I will remain the little savages we have always been.”
“Your aunt Lavinia is a frustrated, stiff, trouble-making old biddy who would worry the devil.”
Honor glanced over her shoulder and gave him a faint smile. He leaned against a stall, one foot propped on a bale of hay as he studied her. The black muslin dress made her look older, emphasizing her dark hair and eyes. His wife. He hoped he could remember she was only sixteen years old. A baby. And when she came of age, she could have this marriage annulled and marry better, a man who could be so many things to her, the kind of man her father expected her to marry. A man who wasn’t wanted by the law.
“I’m glad we have friends, but now I wish they would all go home. It’s so hard to talk to everyone.”
“Honor, I’m going to have to move into your house.”
“It’s your house now,” she said, with so much bitterness that he felt a shock.
“It’s really your house, Honor. In six years I’ll walk out of here, and you’ll be free.” She didn’t move or answer him. He ran his fingers through his hair, raking it back away from his face. “Now I’ll take whichever bedroom you want me to take, but we would be better off if they were next to each other. Dolorita is the only one who’s in the house constantly, and she’ll never talk about what we do.”
“I know she won’t,” Honor answered quietly.
He ached to cross the barn and comfort her, but the wall she had put up between them was something he would not tear down. He suspected she needed it for self-respect. “Honor, your father did what he could to hold the place for you and Jeddy. He trusted me,” Luke said solemnly, knowing Horace Roth had trusted him to keep Honor pure so that she would have another opportunity at marriage someday. “I wasn’t forced into this marriage.”
“It’s a very good bargain. You get land and cattle, and Jeddy and I will have our inheritance. Uncle Stanton can’t take the H Bar R.”
“That’s exactly right,” Luke said quietly. “When you’re older—”
She spun around. “I know you don’t want me. You’ve made that clear, Luke.”
He made a conscious effort to stand still instead of crossing to her and sweeping her into his arms and telling her that she was beautiful and tempting and desirable, that she was too young to know what she really wanted, and because of his past, he couldn’t ever settle and marry and have a family. He clenched his fists and didn’t move, but it hurt to keep his distance and not confide in her.
“It isn’t a matter of wanting you, Honor,” he said carefully. “You’re young, and I’m not the kind of man your father really wanted you to marry.” She didn’t know it, but that was the most bare-faced truth she had heard from him.
“I’ve never even been kissed by a man, and now I won’t be until I’m twenty-two years old!”
Luke felt something knot inside him and silently cursed Horace Roth for tying them both into this predicament. “We kissed when we married.”
She gave him a withering look. “That is not what I call kissing. Aunt Lavinia kisses my cheek like that.”
“It won’t be long until you’re twenty-two,” he said, annoyed, feeling uncomfortable and wondering how they had wandered off along this train of thought.
“Six years!” she snapped as if it would be twenty years. “Maybe I can find some man willing to kiss a married woman.”
“Dammit, Honor,” Luke said, straightening up and unable to resist crossing to her. He took her by her slender shoulders, trying to avoid holding her too tightly, but hot with anger, his insides churning. “I’ll kiss you, so you can say you’ve been kissed,” he said, knowing he had lost control. “Don’t go asking some other man to kiss you!”
“You think no one wants to?”
“Dammit, of course they want to. Any man would want to.”
“You don’t,” she said, her eyes black as midnight except for little sparkling pinpoints of anger.
“Yes, I do, but I’ve always had too much respect for your father. And you’re too young to take advantage of, Honor,” he said, his words sounding hollow even to him. His past loomed like a ghostly specter, a sword hanging over him that could drop at any time, and he would not pull Honor into that kind of catastrophe.
He gazed down into her stormy countenance and tilted up her chin. She jerked her head away from him. “You don’t have to kiss me. I won’t ask someone else.”
“Come here,” he said softly. “We’re married, and while the day will come when it will be annulled and you’ll be ready for the right man in your life, you don’t have to wait six years to get a kiss. Now simmer down.”
“I won’t simmer down for the next six years,” she said. “We’re both caught in a trap.”
“No, we’re not. Your father was doing something to protect you and Jeddy and your inheritance. Now stop fighting me,” he said firmly.
She blinked and gazed up at him. She was breathing deeply, and he was far too aware of her breasts rising and falling, straining against the black muslin each time she inhaled. She was only sixteen, he reminded himself, yet she was at least eight inches over five feet tall, her breasts were high and saucy, and her lips full, a rosy, sensuous invitation. She was all woman, beautiful enough to take his breath away just looking at her.
“I’m going to fight you all the way through this abominable marriage,” she said in a tight voice that quivered with anger and hurt. “Women have no rights, so we have to do this, but you didn’t want to marry me, and I don’t want this either!”
“Calm down before you pop your buttons. You’re a very special woman, Honor,” he added softly. He tilted his head, moving closer and leaning forward to brush her lips lightly with his, wanting to kiss her so she would feel kissed, to satisfy her curiosity, yet keep passion banked. He slid his hands from her shoulders to hold her loosely, not drawing her any closer to him as he continued to brush her lips slowly with his. Her mouth opened beneath his, a soft, sweet invitation, and he pressed his lips against hers, parting them wider as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. He heard her soft moan and his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer against him.
He bent over her, his tongue leaving her mouth, then entering again with a slow deliberation. Her tongue touched his, and Luke forgot his intentions of holding passion in abeyance. She was hot and sweet, and kissing her felt as if he had come home.
As he leaned over her, she wound her slender arms around his neck, her hips molding against him, her soft breasts pressing into him. She was supple, soft, and eager, a woman to fill dreams and empty arms and empty nights. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, exploring as he had done, creating a heat that was a torment. His body swelled and hardened in response as his hand wound in her hair.
He thrust his tongue deep into her mouth again, hearing her moan and feeling her hips shift slightly against him. He slipped his hand from her waist, up over her ribs, touching her soft, full breast, feeling the hard nub press against the coarse muslin.
Her gasp was almost a sob and the sound tore through his roaring pulse, making him realize what he was doing. Shocked by his reaction and his loss of control, Luke raised his head. Honor’s eyes were closed, her lips red from his kisses, and he wanted to tighten his arms around her and kiss her senseless, yet he knew how dangerous this was.
As if she finally realized he had stopped kissing her, her eyes opened. She stared up at him, giving him a dazed, heated look that was filled with unmistakable desire.
He turned away quickly to stride to the door, knowing he had to cool his hard, aching body before he went back to the house filled with people.
“Now you’ve been kissed,” he said more savagely than he meant to.
He heard a rustle behind him and wondered if she were going to cry. Bracing himself for tears, he turned around.
“I hate you, Luke McCloud!” she snapped as she tossed a bucket at him. He ducked and it crashed against a stall, then clattered when it hit the ground. Honor was already going through the opposite door, disappearing around the corner of the barn.
“Dammit,” he said quietly. He longed to go after her and pull her into his arms and kiss her again, but he let her go. Better to suffer her anger and keep a distance between them because his good intentions toward her had melted away like ice beneath a flame.
He swore softly and kicked the dirt with his toe and waited, giving himself time to cool and Honor time to settle in the house. Next time he quarreled with her, he would remember not to turn his back. If he hadn’t looked around and ducked, he would have been hit in the head by the bucket. He should have known she would not dissolve in tears. He sighed. It was going to be a hell of a long six years.
The next time he saw her she was seated between two neighboring women. The ladies were talking and laughing. Honor seemed to be staring into a far distance, and Luke suspected she was thinking about her father.
At ten o’clock that night Luke stepped into the kitchen. “Dolorita, this has been one long day. Go home to bed. You’ve been standing and working in here since before dawn.”
She turned to face him, her eyes red from crying over Horace Roth, dark circles beneath them from lack of sleep and weariness. “Thank you, Mr. McCloud. I will go now and clean up in the morning,” she said, untying the white apron around her ample waist. “It is a sad time. So sad for my little ones.”
“I carried Jeddy to bed a few minutes ago. He fell asleep in a chair in his pa’s office.”
“My little Jeddy is hurt as badly as Honor. But you will take care of them.”
“Some hurts I can’t stop,” he said.
“But it is better for them that you are here. So much better.”
He wondered if it was any better for Honor or a lot worse for being tied together in this sham marriage that would grate daily on both of them.
Finally the last guest was gone and Luke and Honor were alone. Luke locked the front door and walked to a table to extinguish the oil lamp. Another lamp burned on a table farther down the hall, providing a soft light where they stood. Luke placed his arm around her shoulders and felt her stiffen. “We’ll go decide which room will be mine, but first I have a question I want to ask.”
Honor was aware of Luke’s arm around her, his nearness, his light breath as he looked down at her and spoke. His kisses in the barn had set her aflame, fanning her need for him, shocking her with the intensity of her response. She nodded, wondering about him.
“Honor, I had to promise your pa that I wouldn’t go after Rake Acheson.” He moved away, jamming his hand into his pockets, and she could hear the anger in his voice.
“I had to promise him that, too,” she said.
“I’m glad you did because I know you’ll keep a promise made to your pa.” Luke leaned back against the wall, hooking his thumbs into his belt. “I’m riding into town tomorrow to press charges. I’ll do everything I can to see Acheson hang for this.”
She nodded. “I hope so, Luke.”
“I don’t yet know what happened. I need to know before I go, but if you don’t feel like talking about it yet—”
“I can tell you,” she said, biting her lip, feeling her cheeks flush as she remembered Acheson pawing her. She was embarrassed to tell Luke because she felt as if she should have been smarter than to ever let Rake Acheson get his hands on her. She looked away, fingering her skirt as she remembered.
“Pa and I were looking for Dusty and the men who were rounding up mustangs. That’s the first Pa told me about sending me back East to school.” She faced Luke. “It seems everyone else around here knew about it.”
“He told me he planned to send you away to school. He thought it would give you a chance to meet people.”
“I never once in my life thought about leaving here. At least now I’m not going to have to do that.” She saw that Luke was waiting quietly for her to tell him what had happened. “Pa and I split up to try to find Dusty, and I was thinking more about going away from home than where I was riding. I found Rake Acheson digging in Rim Creek, and I realized he was trying to divert our water. I told him I was going to get Pa. Rake kept talking to me and coming closer until he pulled me down off my horse.” She felt on fire with embarrassment, and she could see the slight change in Luke even though he hadn’t moved.
His eyes darkened, his jaw tightened, and he drew a deep breath, making his chest expand. She could see the anger in his eyes.
Luke crossed the room to place his hands on her shoulders. His fingers tightened, and her heart began a drum-roll because she didn’t know what he wanted. “Tell me truthfully, Honor, did Rake Acheson hurt you?”
“No, not really,” she said, hating the memory of his hands and body on her, aware of Luke’s hands so lightly holding her shoulders, wondering why Luke didn’t want her. “We were struggling and I got his gun and fired it then I screamed—”
“Damn him,” Luke ground out the words.
She refused to look at Luke because of her embarrassment, but knew he had moved close and leaned down to hear her. “Pa came riding up and Rake held me in front of him so Pa couldn’t shoot. He shot Pa.”
Luke’s fingers clenched on her shoulders. “Honor, look at me.” She looked up, gratified that they shared the same hatred and anger toward Rake Acheson. “Honor, is that all that happened? Answer me truthfully. Did Acheson”—he paused and stared at her—“did he hurt you?”
“No. And he didn’t do more than run his hands over me,” she said, embarrassed again. Luke’s eyes darkened to the jade color. “Pa made us both promise we wouldn’t go after him, and I have to keep my promise to Pa.”
“I gave him my word, but I swear, Honor, I’ll do everything in my power to see to it that he hangs for what he did to your father.”
“Will I have to go into a courtroom and tell—”
“No, you won’t. We’ll just tell them he pulled you off your horse and you screamed. Your pa came on the run, and Rake shot him.”
Suddenly she remembered that horrible moment and was swamped with agony over her father. Luke pulled her against his chest, holding the back of her head while she flung her arms around him and sobbed.
“Luke, what will I do without him? I thought I’d have him for so many years. I need him, and Jeddy needs him!”
Luke murmured to her, stroking her as she cried, her tears soaking his shirt. Finally he lifted her into his arms and went to the parlor to sit down and hold her close on his lap.
She tried to get control of herself, but she had held back all day because of Jeddy and now, once she had let go, she couldn’t stop crying. “Luke, what will I do?”
“You’re strong, Honor. You’ll manage. You’ll hurt, but you’ll get along, and someday the hurt won’t be as sharp as it is now. And this land is part of your pa. He built this house and everything in it is part of him. He taught you to love the land and the stock, and that’s a part of him that will stay with you. When you see the things he did, you’ll see part of him still with you. He has a place in your heart, Honor, that he won’t ever leave.” Luke fished out a handkerchief and handed it to her, stroking her hair away from her face. “Go put on your gown and wrapper and come back in here. We’ll talk awhile because I know you won’t sleep.”
She nodded and stood up, leaving the room as she wiped her eyes. She felt numb, mindless.
In her room she pulled off her clothes, and in minutes she was dressed in her white cotton gown and her blue gingham wrapper. She let down her hair, brushed it out and looked at her red eyes and nose. Small wonder Luke didn’t want to kiss her! She looked at her mouth in the mirror, but she was remembering his lips on hers, his tongue in her mouth.
It made her pulse race to think about it. She turned a
way to go to the parlor. It didn’t seem proper to sit alone with Luke so late at night when she was in her gown, but then she remembered, she was his wife. Mrs. Luke McCloud.
She paused at the door of the parlor. Luke was standing at the sideboard, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He had shed his black coat and tie and wore his white shirt and black pants. He looked lean and handsome, and her pulse skittered. He took a long drink, his Adam’s apple moving as he swallowed. Feeling another small shock as she looked at the strong man who was now her husband, she wondered if she would ever become accustomed to being Mrs. Luke McCloud. Six years was a long time.
Glancing around, his gaze met hers. “Come in, Honor,” he said quietly, as if it were his house and she was the guest.
He poured a glass of brandy and brought it to her. “Drink this.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t much like—”
“Drink it. I know you and Jeddy have gotten into your father’s liquor before to taste it. You might not like it, but it’ll help you relax.”
She took it from him, her fingers brushing his. She sipped, feeling the fiery liquid go down. “Ugh, Luke!”
“You drink it all. It won’t taste as bad before long.”
“If I get drunk, I might do something that would embarrass me later.”
“No, you won’t, and you’ll be with me, so it won’t matter.” He took her hand and moved to the sofa. She curled in a corner with her legs folded beneath her, and Luke sat facing her.
“Honor, your father protected both you and this ranch. He’s gone now, and both Stanton and Acheson may give us trouble. Don’t go to town alone or only with Jeddy. Always let me know when you’re going.”
“Pa made you my husband, but not my keeper,” she said, annoyed by his superior attitude.
“You vowed to obey me,” Luke answered firmly, “and for your own safety, you’re going to do what I ask.”