Comanche Temptation

by Sara Orwig

  She nodded, and Dusty wanted to swear. She’d had too many hurts in her young life, and the past months she had looked happier than she ever had. McCloud was a good man, maybe too good if he had turned himself in. Now Dusty wished he’d been more forceful when he had talked to Luke because Honor was special, and the love Luke had with her was extraordinary. The air almost crackled around the two of them, and not many men were as fortunate to find a love like Luke had with Honor.

  Dusty dismounted and stretched, glancing at Honor as she dismounted. He reached over to take her reins. “Go on. I’ll take care of your horse.”

  She gave him a faint smile, and he saw the flash of tears in her eyes.

  Honor hurried to the house. She passed through the kitchen with only a glance at Dolorita, whose eyes narrowed. “Mr. McCloud?”

  Honor shook her head. “He’s gone back to Missouri, Dolorita. He’s gone.” She couldn’t talk and turned to rush to her room, where she closed the door and buried her face in her hands to cry.

  Dolorita wiped her hands on her apron and went outside, crossing the yard. She had seen Dusty lead the horses into the corral, and, as she rounded the barn, she spotted him lifting the saddle from Honor’s horse. She hurried to catch up with him, following him into the barn.

  When Dusty turned and stopped to face her, Dolorita had a sinking feeling.

  “What happened to Mr. McCloud?” she asked, terrified to hear his answer.

  “He’s got something in his past that he thinks he should go back to Missouri to settle. He promised Miss Honor he would talk to her before he left, that he would go on the drive with her, and then go to Missouri. But he’s gone.”

  Dolorita placed her hand on her heart and frowned. “That does not sound like Mr. McCloud.”

  Dusty arched an eyebrow at her while he placed his hands on his hips. “I didn’t think so either. I’m going to get some of the men, and we’re going back to look for him and ask around town. If he gave himself up, someone besides the sheriff will know it. Before we leave, I’m sending Will up to the house because I promised Luke I wouldn’t leave her unguarded.”

  “You expect trouble here?”

  “Luke said Acheson wants her—”

  “Aye, aye, aye! That man should not exist.”

  “I agree with that. You be careful. The sheriff knew Luke has gone to Missouri and he was riding up this way. He could have been to Acheson’s to tell him, so now Acheson may know that Luke isn’t with her.”

  “Where’s Jeddy?”

  “He’s with the men, and I’ll see to it someone keeps an eye on him. You close up the house.”

  “Sí,” she answered, lost in thought. “I do not think Mr. McCloud would leave without telling her if he promised he would return. Those two—”

  “Yeah,” Dusty said. “I hope he’s alive.”

  Dolorita turned to go back to the house, hurting for Honor, knowing that nothing except Luke McCloud’s return would ease her pain.

  That night Honor rolled over on the bed; she hadn’t joined Jeddy for supper and she didn’t want to see anyone. She thought about Luke riding alone, heading up north. She rose and moved restlessly to the darkened window and gazed outside. Something moved, and she frowned, staring into the darkness until she realized it was merely the shadow of a cedar branch blowing slightly in the wind.

  She looked up at the full moon, its silvery brightness cold and remote. Luke was under the same moon. Was he asleep or worrying about her? Why hadn’t he come home to her? Was there a chance the judge had turned him over to the marshal and the marshal hadn’t allowed him to go home? Yet if that had happened, Whit Branigan would never have known about it unless he ran into the two of them as the marshal went through Montello with Luke.

  She wiped her eyes and wondered if she would see him again. “Luke, you promised,” she whispered. She shivered, looking at the dark shadows, thinking about him being alone, standing trial alone.

  Her eyes widened, and she no longer saw the familiar trees and shapes as she thought about Luke and realized he needed her. She should be at his side if he had to go through a trial.

  Hurrying, wishing she hadn’t lost so much time, Honor moved to the table to light a lamp. As soon as a soft glow filled the room, she hurried to her wardrobe and opened it, staring at her clothes. Picking up the lamp, she rushed to the doorway and went down the hall to the storage room, where she found a trunk. She dragged it back to her room, thankful for once that Jeddy slept so soundly nothing disturbed him.

  She began to pack quickly, her heart beating. She wished she hadn’t waited so long to get ready to go.

  Long before dawn she had bathed and dressed and was waiting in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee. She heard voices in the yard and then in a few minutes the back door opened and Dolorita entered.

  “Madre de Dios! What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to Missouri, Dolorita. Luke will need me.”

  Dolorita turned to stare at her. “Today they take the cows on the drive to market. They get ready this morning. You are leaving here now?”

  “Yes. They can manage without me.”

  “How will you travel to Missouri?”

  “One of the men can take me to Abilene, where I can get the stage north.” Honor moved toward the kitchen door. “Have you seen Dusty?”

  “Sí. He’s at the springhouse. They are loading a wagon.”

  Honor left the house and strode past the barn to the small springhouse, meeting Dusty as he headed back toward the barn.

  “Morning, Miss Honor.”

  “Did you learn anything in town?”

  “No, we didn’t. Luke rode through Montello, heading southeast on the San Antonio road. No one knows any more than that about him.”

  “Dusty, if Luke has gone back to Missouri to stand trial, I should be there with him.”

  Dusty’s eyes narrowed and he waited in silence. Honor took a deep breath. “I want someone to take me by wagon to Abilene, where I can get the stage. There’s a new line that travels the old Butterfield Trail, and if I go north, neither Acheson nor any of his men will see me.”

  Dusty studied her and nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No,” she stated emphatically. “Acheson won’t know I’ve gone to Missouri. There’s no way he could know. I need you to take charge of the drive. After you sell the herd and get paid, pay the expenses, pay the men and take your salary, and then bring home whatever you have left to me—you keep half of it for taking the herd north.”

  “No! I’ll bring you your money—”

  She shook her head and raised her chin and her voice was firm. “Dusty, you’re to keep half of the money that’s left. That’s the only way I can be with Luke.”

  Dusty looked at her and felt for a moment as if he were facing Horace Roth. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take you to Abilene.”

  “I want to tell Jed good-bye, and I have a trunk packed if you’ll load it into the wagon for me.”

  Dusty nodded, for a moment debating about letting her travel alone. But there was no way Rake Acheson could know what she was doing, and once she was on a stage headed north, she should be safe. Still, Dusty remembered his promise to Luke to keep watch over her. “Miss Honor, I can get one of the men to travel with you.”

  “No, that isn’t necessary. The only person I have to fear is Rake Acheson, and he won’t know I’ve gone. You know he’ll think I’m with you.”

  Dusty nodded. “Dolorita could go.”

  “No, she’s needed here to take care of things while you’re gone. I’ll be fine. I’ll take my revolver.”

  Dusty smiled and nodded. “You don’t think you’ll have any difficulty finding Luke?”

  “No. He told me he would go back to Saint Joseph to stand trial. I’ll find him. I’ll eat breakfast, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

  She turned away, now anxious to get the stage and get to Missouri. She hurried, going inside to drink a cup of steaming black coffee and a glass of juice.
>
  “Dusty will take me to Abilene.”

  “Someone should go with you,” Dolorita said, her hands on her hips as she studied Honor.

  “I’ll be safe. I’m carrying my revolver, and everyone is needed here. Dusty will get me on the stage, and then I’ll be with Luke when I get to Missouri.”

  “You think you can find him?”

  “Yes. He told me where he’s going.”

  “I do not like to see you go alone,” Dolorita said.

  Honor gazed out the window, thinking about Luke riding north while they talked. “I have to be with him, Dolorita. Luke needs me now.”

  Boar swung out of the saddle where Rake was helping cut out calves for branding. A cloud of dust hung over the working cowhands, and calves bawled loudly. The stench of burning hide filled the air. The late afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows as Rake wiped his sweaty brow, and when he saw Boar coming he motioned to one of the men to take his place. He turned his horse and rode toward Boar, dismounting and walking to him.

  “She loaded a trunk on a wagon this morning, and they headed north. She’s with Shackleford.”

  “A trunk?”

  “She had on her bonnet and looks like she’s leaving. And the ranch hands are getting ready to hit the trail.”

  “Dammit.” Rake gazed in the distance while men shouted and calves bawled and the smell of woodsmoke and burning hide filled the air. “Her uncle lives north of the H Bar R. Damn, she must be sitting out the drive there.”

  “She passed his place.”

  Startled, Rake’s gaze returned to Boar. “How far did you follow her?”

  “To Menard, and they were still headed north, like they were going to Abilene.”

  “Why in hell would Honor McCloud want to go to—” Rake’s head snapped around. “The old stage trail. Someone has a stage line that follows the Butterfield route and runs through Abilene, heading to Missouri. She’s taking that damn stage to Missouri,” he said softly, suddenly grinning. “The only one with her was Shackleford?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Thanks. You come up to the house tonight, and I’ll give you your pay. Damn good job.”

  “Thanks.”

  Boar strode away and Rake laughed, thinking about Honor and remembering the day he shot Horace Roth. “We have unfinished business, Injun,” he said softly, turning swiftly to stride across the ground toward the branding to find his foreman.

  In an hour he was saddled, his revolver on his hip, as he left his place and turned north. The stage would be slow because of stops along the way. He could go across country and catch it maybe as early as tomorrow. He had all the way between here and Missouri to catch up with it and take Honor McCloud off to himself. He grinned. Shackleford might as well have delivered her to him, it would be so easy.

  Twenty-two

  “You’ve got the wrong man,” Luke said, his shoulder aching and his head pounding from the blows he had taken. He glanced over his shoulder. The gaunt, hollow-eyed man riding behind him shrugged as thunder rumbled overhead. The man’s clothes were black with a wide silver belt buckle, silver earrings in his ears, and silver spurs on his boots. He had a white scar that ran from his temple to his jaw, and Luke suspected he was a knife fighter even though he wore two pistols.

  “Don’t give a damn if you are the wrong man.”

  Startled, Luke frowned and twisted in the saddle again. His hands were tied behind his back so tightly they were numb. And even if he kicked the horse to a gallop, the bounty hunter could easily catch him because Luke was on a sorry roan that looked as if it might fall over at any minute.

  “You don’t care if you have the wrong man? You won’t get a reward.”

  The man spit tobacco and gave Luke a sly grin. “You might look enough like the wanted man that I can convince them it’s you, but I done got a reward already.”

  Startled, Luke twisted more, feeling pain shoot across his back. “Who gave you a reward? And what for?”

  The man laughed. “Someone back there didn’t like you. He wanted you out of the way.” The bounty hunter looked at Luke with another sly smile. “Seems he had a hankering for your wife. I think he’s going to take your place while you’re gone.”

  Rage boiled in Luke, making him want to lunge off the horse and fight the man with his hands tied. Rake Acheson had paid this bastard to take him to Missouri—Rake wasn’t even sure he had the right man. He just wanted an excuse to get Luke away. Luke thought about his promise to Honor that he would come home. He felt sick in the pit of his stomach because he knew she would think he hadn’t kept his promise to her and had instead ridden off alone to Missouri. Then cold fear uncoiled like a snake. He knew that Rake would ride to the H Bar R and try to take her.

  Rage and frustration made his ears ring as blood pounded in his veins. He held to the thought of Dusty’s promise to keep Honor in his sight. Dusty would be with her, and he would be ready for Acheson.

  Thunder rumbled again, and a gust of wind swept over Luke, bringing the smell of rain. In minutes the first big drops fell and the bounty man caught up with Luke, motioning him to halt.

  Luke dropped off his horse and stood watching the man picket his horse, unsaddle it then get out a canvas and make himself a shelter. He crossed to Luke, going behind him to yank on the rope that was looped around Luke’s neck and down around his wrists. He tied Luke to a tree.

  “My hands are numb.”

  “Don’t care if you lose ’em.” With a jingle of his spurs, the bounty hunter strode to his horse to take care of the animal and get his belongings. Rain began to come down harder and Luke sat in the cold drizzle, watching while the man ate jerky and an apple. Luke was hungry, thirsty, wet, and miserable, but his physical condition didn’t bother him as much as his worry about Honor and Rake Acheson.

  “We’re in Comanche country. You better keep circulation going in my hands because you might need me to help you fight.”

  Lightning flashed and the man looked at him. In a few minutes he came over to tie the loop around Luke’s neck to the tree. He freed his hands. “You go for that rope around your neck, and I’ll take you back dead to collect my reward.”

  “You won’t collect because I’m the wrong man. Besides, I saw the poster you had—it was for bringing back the man alive,” Luke commented.

  “Don’t push your luck.” The man strode back to his shelter and watched Luke while he stood and shook his hands and moved around as far as the rope would allow. His hands felt as if they were being chopped with knives as circulation returned. He turned his face up and drank rainwater and walked back and forth, glad to be able to move around.

  “Sit down.”

  Luke glanced at his captor and sat down, leaning against the tree in order to sleep, trying to ignore the rain pouring over him.

  He woke as pain burst in his thigh. The man stood over him.

  “Turn around. I’m tying you up again so I can sleep.”

  Luke did as he was asked and felt his wrist being tied tightly again and lashed to the tree.

  He knew he should sleep, but his thoughts kept wandering to Honor. Would she ever guess that a bounty hunter had him? Were they getting ready to go on the trail without him? Was she upset, thinking he had broken his promise to her? The last thought tormented him because he felt sure that’s exactly what she would think. His bonds were tight, and he knew it was useless to struggle against them. He suspected his captor had long experience in finding wanted men and collecting the reward.

  Lightning flashed, and Luke glimpsed the man eating a hunk of bread. Luke thought of his savings that he had built over the years. At the same time he was accumulating land, he had put money away so someday he could build a house and buy livestock. He looked at his captor. “Take me back to Montello, and I’ll match the reward money.”

  Lightning flashed again, and Luke stared into the man’s unreadable brown eyes.

  Luke sat in silence, waiting, while thunder rumbled and rain soaked him.

/>   “You have five thousand dollars?”

  Luke raised his head and his pulse jumped, but he kept his voice quiet, speaking in the same tone as before. “It’s in the bank in Montello. Take me back and I’ll draw it out and give it to you. You’re not going to collect the reward in Missouri. If we return to Montello, it would save you a long trip, and I’ll get home sooner. I can prove to a judge or marshal that I’m not the wanted man, so you’ll never get money at the end of this ride if you head east.”

  “And the man who paid me to take you to Missouri would slit my throat.”

  “Did you plan to settle in Montello?” Luke asked with a faint touch of cynicism. “I know it was Rake Acheson who paid you. If you do cross him, how would he ever find you? He owns land and cattle, so he won’t go after you. Did you plan to settle in this part of the country?” Without waiting for an answer, Luke continued quietly, “It would save you hours of travel through hostile country with the Comanche here and Kiowa north of here. You won’t find a more dangerous place to be than out where we are now and will be for the next week’s ride.”

  He was silent, knowing the man would make up his mind without his urging, suspecting he might make it up more to Luke’s way if Luke didn’t plead or push. The man looked cold, calculating, willing to sell his soul to the devil for a dollar, and Luke suspected his offer might hold a fair amount of appeal.

  “You have five thousand in the bank, and you can get it out?”

  “Yes. I own land and I’m ready to take my herd north. I won’t come after you because I can earn my money back by taking care of my livestock. And because of my wife. I want to be with her enough to give you the money and let it go.”

  Luke waited and the silence stretched between them until the rain slacked off and the thunder stopped. Water dripped from the trees, and Luke wondered if the man had fallen asleep.

  “Mister, if you can make it six thousand,” came his low voice, “you got yourself a deal.”

  Luke’s pulse raced, and he lifted up his head. “We’ve got a bargain. I’ll get you the six thousand,” he answered. Without a qualm he tossed aside the plans he had had to build a house for Honor.