by Sara Orwig
“No, thank you,” she answered coolly, determined to keep him at a distance, to avoid succumbing to his charm any more than she already had.
“Since Stanton has moved home, I’m going to ride to San Antonio tomorrow and talk to the marshal. If you and Jeddy—”
“I can go to San Antonio!” Jeddy exclaimed, slamming shut the book.
Luke smiled. “Yes, you may if you’d like.” Green eyes gazed at her over the brandy glass. “Will you go, Honor?”
She wanted to keep her resolve to avoid him and stay aloof, yet the prospect of a long ride with him and a day in San Antonio was too dazzling to refuse. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Good. I’d like to leave early, about dawn. Enrique is going with us.”
Over supper Luke talked about the ranch and problems he was having with a stallion. After dinner, she pulled on a cape and walked to the barn with him. Men were breaking the mustangs, and Honor leaned against the fence to watch while Luke joined the men to look at a particular chestnut.
She watched him stand and run his hands over the horse. The chestnut tossed its head, rolling its eyes and shuddering, while Luke continued talking to it, touching it, running his hands over its neck. She remembered those same hands moving so lightly on her, working a magic that was irresistible.
She turned away and went back to the house, going to her bedroom with a glance down the hall at the open doorway to the room she and Luke had shared. She entered her room and closed the door.
She had moved the books with the records of the ranch to her room, so she sat for the next few hours poring over the records, trying to tally up expenses and enter the last purchases made.
She finally changed to the nightshirt she had worn until she’d moved in with Luke. Extinguishing the lamp, she walked to the window to gaze outside, looking at moonlight bathing the rolling land and the junipers’ dark shadows. She wondered if Luke was sleeping peacefully.
She rose before dawn and dressed for the journey in her black poplin. After breakfast, Luke brought the buggy to the house, and she stepped outside. Luke was dressed in a black coat and pants, his black boots, and looked ruggedly handsome. His hat was squarely on his head as he strode around the buggy to her, and Jeddy scrambled into the backseat. “Ready?” Luke asked her, touching her shoulder lightly.
“Yes,” she nodded, placing her hands on his forearms while he lifted her to the front seat. When he climbed up beside her, his coat swung open, revealing the gunbelt around his slender hips, and she wondered if he expected trouble. In minutes Enrique strode toward them, a rifle in hand and his six-shooter in the holster on his hip. Stocky, with a rolling gait, Enrique was dressed in a freshly laundered white shirt and clean trousers. Sunlight glinted on the wide silver belt buckle that he kept polished and shining, a prize possession that had been made for him by his uncle when he had ridden his first bull. Enrique was Dolorita’s nephew, and Honor could see a family resemblance in their broad faces and square jaws.
“Good morning,” he said, tipping his hat to Honor, and she smiled at him knowing that with Pa’s death, Enrique had stopped treating her like a child. Now his friendliness was always accompanied by a polite respect.
He slid onto the seat beside Jeddy, and Luke urged the team forward. As they headed south, the two men discussed the ranch, then Luke talked about Kentucky and the jobs he had held while coming west. The day was crisp and cool, with a slight breeze, and she relaxed, enjoying the tall man seated beside her, listening to his occasional deep laugh and each time feeling a pang of longing that she could not win his heart.
It was past noon before they reached San Antonio, and Luke crossed the river. He halted the buggy at the Plaza and swung Honor down, his hands resting on her waist while he looked down at her. “We’ll meet in the lobby of the Menger in two hours. That will give me time to talk to the marshal. Jeddy can go with us.”
“Fine. You don’t need me to tell the marshal what happened?”
“No. I want you to stay out of it if possible.”
Honor nodded and Luke watched her walk away. She was tall, striking in her black dress with her dark coloring, and he saw men turn to watch her as she headed toward the dry goods store. It hurt to watch her, to know that someday he would have to give her up and turn his back and ride away, leaving her for another man. And some man would make her happy. Luke ached, hating the situation he was in, hating that he hurt Honor daily. He should have left for California a year ago and gotten out of her life.
“I hope they arrest the bastard before sundown tonight!” Enrique said, bringing Luke’s thoughts back to his purpose in coming to town.
“I agree,” Luke said, turning the team and heading to the marshal’s office. As they walked down the hall at the courthouse, Luke heard a greeting behind him.
“Luke?”
He turned to see Judge Matthew Tolliver. The short judge raked his shaggy mane of thick white hair back from his face and came forward, his blue eyes twinkling as he extended his hand to shake with Luke. “What brings you to town? A poker game tonight, I hope. Someday, I’m going to win back my losses from you.”
Luke grinned. “Judge, this is Enrique Gonzales, who works for me.”
After shaking Enrique’s hand, Judge Tolliver turned back to Luke. “I heard about Roth and I’m sorry. I would have come out to the house, but I was away and didn’t know he had died until the next week.”
“I’ll tell Honor.”
“I heard you married Horace Roth’s daughter. Congratulations! Is this young man Horace’s son?”
“Yes he is. Jeddy say hello to the judge.”
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“You too, son. Now what are you folks doing here?”
“We came to see the marshal.”
“He’s out for about an hour. Come sit and talk with me.”
“Boss, you folks talk,” Enrique said. “I’ll see about the new harness. Then I’ll be at the wheelwright’s.”
Luke nodded and motioned to Jeddy to follow Judge Tolliver into his office.
The judge poured Luke a glass of water and sat down behind his desk. Luke sat facing him, looking at his silver hair and knowing he was much younger than the color of his hair indicated. Tolliver was the circuit judge for their district, and Luke had occasionally seen him visit Horace Roth. Jeddy roamed to the bookshelves to touch the backs of the law books.
“Mostly law books, son. Dull stuff for someone your age.”
“Jeddy will read anything printed,” Luke remarked dryly, and Judge Tolliver smiled.
“Help yourself, boy. Sorry there isn’t something more rip-roaring. Got trouble, Luke?”
“Rake Acheson shot Horace Roth.”
Matthew Tolliver’s smile vanished, and his blue eyes narrowed. “Serious charges.”
“Rake Acheson was diverting water on one of the Roth creeks when Honor found him. He pulled her off her horse—” Luke paused and glanced at Jeddy, who was seated on a straight-backed chair, a law book open on his lap. Judge Tolliver glanced at him and arched a brow, looking quizzically at Luke.
“He can read a law book?” he asked quietly.
“I told you—he’ll read anything. He’s probably forgotten we exist,” Luke said, except he knew Jeddy had a quiet way of noticing everything going on around him.
Matt Tolliver laughed.
“Great heavens!”
“Actually, he seems to like the law books. I have one, and he’s got it most of the time.”
“Guess we know what he’ll be someday.”
“He’s supposed to take over running the H Bar R when he reaches eighteen.”
Judge Tolliver shook his head, and his amusement vanished. “Go on, tell me about Acheson.”
“While Honor fought Acheson, she fired a shot. Horace Roth heard her and raced to her. As he galloped into sight and aimed his rifle, Acheson held her in front of him, so Horace couldn’t shoot. Instead Acheson shot Horace.”
“Damnation. Rak
e shot him?” Tolliver asked with obvious disbelief.
“That’s right.”
“Damn, man must have taken leave of his senses. What about Honor?”
“Acheson let her go, and he rode for home. She wasn’t hurt badly, but the shot killed Roth. After we buried him, I rode into town and told the sheriff, who is—”
“I know. Man’s lower than a stepped-on snake, except when he’s cozying up to voters. I recall he worked for Rake Acheson.”
“He said Rake Acheson had been in San Antonio for four days and he had witnesses who would verify that.”
“Damnation. There goes your case. It’s his word against a sixteen-year-old girl’s, and he has witnesses.”
“Acheson is lying,” Luke said, feeling a tight knot of anger, remembering finding Horace Roth and seeing his terrible wound.
“Legally, you won’t have a case, and there’s no reason for the marshal to pursue it.”
“Did I hear my name mentioned?” A tall, sandy-haired man thrust his head inside the room.
“Richard, meet Luke McCloud. Luke this is Marshal Weitzman. Luke wanted to see you about a matter.”
Luke stood and shook hands with the marshal, feeling his hand enclosed in a strong grip as he gazed into gray eyes. Luke turned to the judge. “It was good to see you. Jeddy. Time to talk with the marshal.”
“Let the boy keep reading,” Judge Tolliver said with a chuckle when Jeddy didn’t answer. “He’s all right here.”
“I’ll be back shortly. If he disturbs you, send him down the hall to me.”
“I don’t think he’s going to disturb anyone.”
Luke went two offices away to sit on a hard wooden chair facing the U.S. Marshal. He expected the same answer as Judge Tolliver had given, but it still hurt to hear the marshal say he couldn’t do anything if Acheson had witnesses. “I’ll ride out and see what I can discover, Mr. McCloud. And I’ll talk to your sheriff so he knows we’re aware of what’s going on, but if Acheson has witnesses who say he was here in town, and Honor Roth is the only one who says he shot her father, I can’t take him to court.”
“Thanks for what you’re doing.”
“I’ll check. We’re not taking Whit Branigan’s word that there are witnesses, but if there are, then I’ll have to accept their testimony.”
Luke stood up, reaching across the desk to shake the marshal’s hand. “Thanks.”
“After I talk to Acheson, I’ll stop by the H Bar R and let you know what happens.”
“You do that. We have room, spend the evening with us.”
“Thank you,” he said, walking to the door with Luke. Frustrated, hating to tell Honor that Acheson would be clear, Luke strode down the wide hall. His spurs jingled with his step and he thought about Honor. She had moved her things from the big bedroom they had shared so briefly, and he missed her. Even when he had slept in the chair, he had preferred her being close in spite of the coolness between them. He entered the antechamber and knocked on the judge’s open door.
Judge Tolliver leaned back in his chair and smiled, nodding his head toward Jeddy, who was sprawled over a chair, still poring over a law book.
“Jeddy,” Luke said. “Jeddy,” he repeated more loudly and, as Judge Tolliver chuckled, Jeddy looked up. “Time to go.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, Judge Tolliver,” Jeddy said, closing the book and returning it to the shelf.
“You’re welcome.” Judge Tolliver tilted his head. “What in heaven’s name did you find to read that was that engrossing at your age?”
“There’s a case in there where someone stabbed and cut up eight people—”
Judge Tolliver laughed and threw up his hands. “All those dry books and he finds something like that. Come back and see me, Jeddy. I wish you’d stay in town tonight, Luke.”
“Sorry, we need to get back. You come out to the H Bar R.”
With Jeddy beside him, Luke left, stepping into the warm sunshine to cross Commerce Street. The Plaza was filled with a crowd, vendors hawking wares, the smells of cooking beef and woodsmoke filling the air. Enrique was across the street talking to a chili vendor and wiping his mouth. He saw Luke and Jeddy and joined them at the buggy.
“Is the marshal going after him soon?”
Luke shook his head, glancing at Jeddy, who climbed into the buggy. “He said he would talk to Rake, but if Acheson produces witnesses, the marshal has no choice but to drop it. It’s their word against Honor’s.”
“The bastard.” Enrique glanced down the street, his fists clenched. “Boss was a fine man.”
Luke clasped Enrique’s shoulder. “The day will come when Acheson won’t have a witness or an excuse. Let’s go find Honor.”
They crossed the river on the Commerce Street bridge and, as they neared Alamo Plaza, Luke spotted Honor walking through the crowd. Sun was shining on her raven hair, and her back was straight as she strode along at a quick pace. He felt a tightness in his chest, remembering their last night together, hating her mistaken judgment about his decision to marry her, yet unable to set it to rights. He swung the buggy to the walk, halted, and jumped down a few yards ahead of her.
As he turned to face her, looking into her wide, dark eyes, he felt a rush of desire. Her eyes met his and held, her chin rising a fraction as if she were issuing Luke a silent challenge.
“Come ride the last block, and we’ll all get something to eat before we start home.” He took packages from her hands and lifted her into the buggy, feeling how light and slender she was, remembering moments when he had held her against him.
As the buggy began moving into the street, she turned to him. “What will the marshal do?”
“Damn little. He’ll ride out to talk to Rake, and he said he would ride to the H Bar R and let us know what happened, but if Rake has witnesses, there’s nothing he can do.”
She turned away, clenching her small fists. Anger rose in Luke over Acheson’s ability to escape punishment.
Luke squeezed her hands. “Stop worrying. Acheson won’t get away with things forever. He wouldn’t have with this if we hadn’t all been so busy trying to save your father. If I had ridden for the marshal immediately, we might have been able to do something.”
She nodded, her lips clamped together as she moved her hands away from Luke’s. He supposed she was thinking about her pa, and he wanted to put his arm around her and pull her close and offer her what little comfort he could, but he knew it would be better for her if he left her alone. She was angry with him, and he should let her go, yet doing so hurt more than he would have guessed, and he wondered how much his heart was already bound to her.
He slowed in front of the hotel, helping Honor down while Enrique and Jeddy climbed out.
“I’ll wait, Boss.”
“You come with us,” Luke said, knowing that Enrique felt it wasn’t his place as a hired hand to join them. “We’ll eat an early supper before we start back.”
Through the meal of roast duck, corn bread, buttered sweet potatoes, and corn, Luke tried to charm Honor and coax her to smile. As Enrique relaxed and they talked about life at the ranch, she finally succumbed to laughter, her dark eyes sparkling and her straight, white teeth showing. Luke wished he could continue to please her, wishing there was no haunting barrier of his past or promises to her pa.
Finally they left, and when he lifted her into the buggy, his fingers brushed her hands, lingering a second. She turned to stare down at him, and he looked away, walking around to climb up next to her.
Two days later the marshal stopped to talk to Luke at the H Bar R and confirmed what Luke had guessed: Rake Acheson had given the marshal the names of five men and two women who could verify that he had been in San Antonio at the time in question.
Marshal Weitzman declined Luke’s invitation to have supper with them and stay the night, saying he needed to get back to San Antonio. Standing near the corral, Luke watched him ride away. Dusty approached and dismounted, facing Luke. “The news must have been bad.”
>
“It was just what I expected. There’s nothing we can do.” Luke’s gaze shifted to Dusty. “And don’t take Acheson on—you told me you wouldn’t. I need you here.”
Dusty nodded, his jaw clenched shut, his eyes narrowed and filled with anger. “I won’t, but I don’t like it. The man’s a devil.”
“When he killed Boss, he became completely lawless, so he’ll do something again. Dusty, keep an eye on Honor. She’s riding with you nearly every day now. I don’t want her off alone. Acheson is more dangerous than ever, and he wants Honor.”
“Any fool would,” Dusty commented dryly, and Luke turned to stare at the foreman.
Drawing a deep breath, Luke walked away, anger churning in him because Dusty was right.
During the next week, in blustery November, Honor tried to avoid Luke, working alongside Enrique or Dusty, riding as hard as the men and finally falling into a troubled sleep long after midnight. Her dreams were of Luke, yet he was always beyond her reach, and often she would wake with a jolt, her heart pounding, sadness and loss stinging her.
Monday afternoon Dusty found Luke in a canyon, tending an injured calf. Dusty dismounted and strode over to him. “Need a hand?”
“No, I’m about through. I don’t know what he tangled with, but he had a gash in his side. I’m through sewing him up. Now it’s up to him.” Luke stood up, turning to Dusty. One look into Dusty’s worried countenance and Luke felt chilled, his first thought going to Honor. “What’s happened?”
“Enrique never came back yesterday. He left yesterday morning on an errand.”
Luke’s gaze slid beyond Dusty, and he felt a premonition of disaster. “He’s never missed being here for work when he said he would.”
“I know he hasn’t,” Dusty said, shifting uneasily, and Luke realized there was more on Dusty’s mind.
“What do you think?” Luke asked quietly.
Dusty shrugged. “Just a feeling, but since you went to town and the marshal was here—”
“You think he went after Acheson?”
As soon as Dusty’s gaze swung around, Luke had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “If I ride over there and ask about Enrique, they’ll claim to know nothing.”