The Forbidden Ranch: Honor Elizabeth Wilde Tale 0f Suspense (Half Breed Haven Book 5)

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The Forbidden Ranch: Honor Elizabeth Wilde Tale 0f Suspense (Half Breed Haven Book 5) Page 3

by A. M. Van Dorn


  He had accepted with delight, though he had attempted to balk when Honor removed a roll of bills from her carrying bag and insisted he buy whatever he needed to make it happen. Honor wouldn’t take no for an answer despite his refusals. The Wilde family made good money from their cattle and timber operations run by Catalina and Blue River, all overseen by the unrivaled businesswoman Lijuan. Honor always felt the same guilt that Dutch and Cassandra did, though, as they all received equal shares, but the three of them didn't ordinarily contribute directly to the ranch's success as the other three did.

  At the end of the day, though, it was her money and this seemed like just the sort of thing she would care to spend it on. It was certainly better than her usual habits of frivolously buying the latest dresses she would have shipped in from back east in New York and Philadelphia, two places she had lived for a period of time for her education.

  Shortly afterward the pair packed up the picnic basket and strolled back to where Whip’s coach sat parked and waiting. Never would they have guessed at that moment Meriwether Dumont and Silas Branch had far from given up the chase. Rather they were on the verge of success nearly a decade in the making.

  CHAPTER 4

  * * *

  Now as she strolled along, stick in hand, she brushed away thoughts of the seriousness of their discussion earlier in the day. Tonight was going to be a time of pure pleasure if what she had in mind played out. She did, however, promise herself she would discuss the matter of Dumont with her father, but right now she just wanted to get to Josiah’s home.

  Coming to another picket fence, she began to whistle breezily and dragged the stick along its length making such a clattering noise that it was loud enough to mask the sound of hoof beats that had drawn up behind her. Suddenly Honor’s hand flew to her chest as she was startled by a bellicose cry from behind her.

  “What’s the matter with you, girl! The sun’s gone down, and you’re out here making noise after people put in a hard day’s work!”

  She was momentarily mortified. The voice had been right, it was somewhat thoughtless of her she now realized, letting her good mood overwhelm her judgment. However, she did not care for the tone that it was delivered in and she turned to face the rider.

  “Apologies. You are most correct. I should surely not have …”

  Honor Elizabeth’s voice trailed off as she recognized the man. He had a face one could not forget. Upon returning from her luncheon with Josiah, she had stopped by the desk to settle the bill so they would not have to do it in the morning and could leave directly for Casper’s Crossing. As the clerk had gone into the back to tally it up, she had been standing by the counter when a rough looking man came in and dropped his two bags he carried in each hand, both landing with a simultaneous thudding noise.

  Honor hadn’t been able to decide if he was a man or a mountain. His six-foot frame appeared to have been carved out of solid rock, and his arms and legs seemed more like tree trunks. A considerable gut bulged and hung over the man’s belt, no doubt from a lifetime of swilling beer, she had immediately concluded.

  Equally notable was his face, he had a salt and pepper beard just below his squat nose. His small eyes seemed far too close together in her opinion, and then there was that crescent scar just below his left eye. When he spoke his tobacco, stained teeth had not been lost on Honor.

  “Run along and get your bellman, girl. Once you do that, before I check in whatever room the clerk gives me I want you to strip the sheets down before I go in there. Caught something real nasty once from hotel sheets and that ain’t happening to me this day.”

  Honor stared at him for a long moment. She had been standing in front of him in a one-hundred-dollar dress from one of the finest dressmakers in Boston, thank you very much! Yet, the brute didn’t even take note of that; all he saw was her brown skin so she must be the hired help!

  "Snap to it, girl!" the man said as he clapped hand together. "I come along way and don't need no colored wench holding me up!"

  Remembering she was a lady, Honor had swallowed hard and was just about to clear up the misunderstanding in the most genteel way possible when the clerk suddenly re-emerged from the curtain that separated the back room. He had come to a standstill when he had spied the arriving guest.

  Turning on her heel she simply said, “I shall return later.” And she walked away to let the clerk check in the man. She needed to cool down, and so she took her leave. As she walked away she imagined what would have happened if he had said those words in front of Lijuan. The petite Asian firecracker probably would have pile-drove one of her tiny fists right into the man’s stomach, which had appeared to be the only soft part on the man.

  Now here he was astride his horse, clopping along next to her and looking down at her. She could see he recognized her as well.

  “Well, now. Look who we have here. Is it true what the clerk told me?”

  "As I was not a party to your conversations after I excused myself from your rather rude assumptions about me, I cannot verify anything for you."

  The man threw his head back and laughed as he plucked a cigar from his pocket. For a moment he felt his pockets for something and then reached back into his saddlebag pulling out a box of matches he used to puff the cigar to life before leaning back in the saddle and whistled.

  “Don’t you just talk like a real lady?! I reckon it’s that white blood in you. I seen enough of you mulattos in my life to know one when I see one,” He said as he placed the matches back in his saddlebag.

  Honor threw the stick away and turned away from him and continued walking. “How wonderful for you.” Not letting on the burning fury inside of her. She had heard some variation of the remark so many times. Her black side was forever being dismissed as automatically inferior.

  “You heading to the colored part of town? Your direction seems to say so.”

  “If I am, that is my concern. Not yours. Good evening to you.”

  "There was a time I never would have let one of you talk to me like that … but I let you off easy tonight. I'm busy, and frankly, you look good for a darkie. Damn good!" and with that he coaxed his horse down the road, smoke from his cigar trailing behind him. That's when she noticed it was pulling a curious-looking small cart behind it. In the darkness, she couldn't quite make out what it was.

  Later on, after she had indeed crossed over into the streets where anyone of color, be it blacks, Mexicans, or a few Indians lived, she immediately noticed that the homes were about as humble as one could imagine. She also saw the man from the hotel speaking with some people at one of the doors. Not wishing to give that crude excuse for a man any more thought, she searched for Josiah’s house based on its description.

  He had welcomed her in with an unbridled enthusiasm as she was greeted with the aromas of the wonderful meal he had labored over at her request. She was looking forward to that almost as much as she was for what was to come after it! The meal of succulent ham and candied carrots, with a salad as tasty as it was colorful, had convinced her the man was a master chef. It made her chafe again, thinking he was forced into the life of a stable hand. With his talents, he could make a splendid life for himself in a big city where his talents would overshadow the color of his skin.

  As they had dined, the pair enjoyed a fine conversation that mostly consisted of Honor Elizabeth telling Josiah of her family, which arguably was the most unique one in Arizona given their varied races. Josiah had listened intently when she spoke of how so many years earlier people had attempted to mock and hurt them by calling their ranch Half Breed Haven but the sisters had turned the tables on them. He had given a hearty laugh at hearing how they instructed the ranch’s blacksmith to fashion huge metal letters in a circle saying HBH which they had put atop the gate to the ranch. After that, they adopted the moniker, the Daughters of Half Breed Haven, with pride.

  Honor wasn’t quite sure that he believed her a hundred percent when she had relayed some of their many adventures. She couldn’t blam
e him though; they had a knack like no one else for always winding up in the thick of things. Mostly, it was due to them helping Cassandra out with her assignments from their uncle the governor who frequently tapped Cassie’s skill from her days with the Pinkertons.

  Together they had washed the dishes to give their stomachs time to settle before digging into dessert. He washed and she dried, while intermittently sipping from a glass of water he had poured her. All the while she had described the beautiful world that was the five-hundred-square-mile ranch called Cedar Ledge.

  After the dishes were done, Josiah had plucked the Key lime pie he had sitting on the windowsill and put it on the table. Honor knew now was the time to make her move. Reading Josiah had been easy enough. His looks showed a desire for her but he was a gentle soul, far too polite to come out and make a pass at her.

  Not a problem!

  Honor and her three sisters had long ago vowed that they intended to enjoy life to its fullest and savor every possible drop of it, and if that included being bold with the men to get what they desired, so be it. This conviction had sprung from the sobering fact that not one of their mothers had lived the long and fruitful lives they had deserved, and the four siblings had sworn that would never happen to them.

  He had just finished placing the second piece of pie on one of the plates and had picked up a little glass cylinder filled with sugar saying to her that sprinkling some on top of the pie always made it extra sweet when she had drawn up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. For a moment she felt him tense and then relax and he put the sugar shaker down and turned to her.

  “Josiah, I have to leave in the morning, but for this night I am most assuredly yours.”

  His hand reached up and caressed her face and she moved to kiss his knuckles as he did so. A second later both his hands were cupping her face and the pair were locked in a deep and passionate kiss. Honor’s hands were far from idle as she worked at the buttons on his white cotton shirt. When they were all undone she pulled it off the man.

  Her eyes shone at the sight of his hard and firm muscles beneath his glossy ebony skin. She could barely wait to feel them under her touch. Stepping back, she saw him increase his swallowing as she lost little time peeling out of the one-hundred-dollar dress she had such pride in earlier. It dropped to the floor followed by her corset.

  Honor grinned as she saw, try as he might, he could not hold her gaze, his eyes traveled downward mapping her large breasts, with nipples rising as hard as pebbles from large dusky areolas, as the excitement mushroomed inside of her. Lower his eyes traveled at her tapered waist that suddenly expanded out into the curvaceous hips she and her sisters had been blessed with.

  He leaned forward, trembling ever so slightly and raised her chin up with his hand.

  “You sure about this, Miss Honor?”

  “If my sister Cattie were here she would say, “As sure as sugar.” I like you, Josiah. I believe I have since the moment you welcomed us at your stable when we arrived in Mesa Verde. First, it was your handsome looks, but earlier … what you did, meant a lot to me."

  “Shucks, I didn’t do nothing.”

  “Yes, you did. You opened up to me and shared with me what your life once was, what it is now, and what it could be. I am so very thankful that you felt comfortable enough to share your experiences with me.”

  “You’re easy to talk to, Miss Honor. You ain’t like any other woman I ever met, that’s for sure, and like you said you really is the first person I’ve felt I could trust to talk about my days on the plantation and being on the run from Mister Meriwether Dumont and Halfmoon.”

  “I am most flattered---Excuse me. I am sorry.” she blinked. “Halfmoon?”

  “Sorry, that’s what we slaves called Mister Branch. He was the most hated man on the plantation. He’d force slaves into running just so he could shoot them dead. He was a murdering bastard. He almost got his, though. Big Mike, a field hand got himself a knife and tried to put it right through his left eye, but he missed. Cut him good, left a scar that looked like a half-moon. Big Mike hung that night, but to remember him, we’d call Branch ‘Halfmoon’ after that for what Mike did to him.”

  Suddenly Josiah shook his head. “Enough of that. I gots the most beautiful woman I ever done seen in front of me and she just said she was mine.”

  Honor beamed, “And I am. You run along to your bedroom. I assume you have some candles in there. Light them up. I intend for our time together to be one of romance … and pleasure. That I can promise you.”

  Josiah didn't need to hear anymore as he hustled off to the bedroom to do as she asked. She lingered for a moment to take a drink from her glass that sat on the countertop where they had done the dishes earlier when she suddenly remembered her choker.

  It had been her habit for many years to wear one that always featured a silk rose of a variety of colors. As she reached behind to unclasp it, she thought of how no one knew, not even her beloved sisters, that she wore it in memory of not only her mother but a half brother and sister that she had never met either. The pair having been sold off as children before Honor had ever been born. All three had worn the collar of slavery and her choker collar was her way of honoring them, showing her solidarity for the oppression they all must have endured. I never knew you, but I am with you.

  As it came free, she moved to set it down on the butcher block were earlier she knew Josiah must have labored to prepare their feast and accidentally knocked over the sugar shaker that rolled off the edge. She held her breath for a moment expecting it to break but instead it hit the floor and rolled underneath the cast iron stove that was across from the butcher block.

  Honor dropped to her knees and began to feel around under the stove for the cylinder when suddenly, she froze and her head jerked back up. Unknown to her, deep in her subconscious something Josiah had said had struck a chord and her mind had fought to process the information. Now like a padlock suddenly opening under a key, it burst free and clear. Her heart raced and a heavy feeling overwhelmed her stomach that had nothing to do with ham and candied carrots.

  Halfmoon! A crescent scar beneath a left eye … in the same shape as a half-moon. Branch! He was not only here in Mesa Verde, but in this very neighborhood, perhaps now even on Josiah’s street!

  Astonishingly, a split second after these thoughts erupted like a volcano, a loud noise filled her ears, the sound of the front door being kicked open and a bellowing voice filling the air.

  “You run is over boy! There’s no getting away this time!” came the voice of the man from the hotel, the man that had hassled her earlier, the voice of Silas “Halfmoon” Branch.

  CHAPTER 5

  * * *

  Honor heard the man dash toward the door to the cabin’s bedroom and she heard Josiah give a startled shout. Immediately there were the sounds of two men scuffling with each other, followed by the slamming of the bedroom door as one of them had clearly bumped into it causing it to slam shut.

  Honor pressed herself to the floor between the stove and the butcher block. Her mind was spinning in a thousand different directions at once. Finally, she heard the calm reassuring voice of Cassandra from the time several years ago when she was first training her sisters on how to handle themselves in dangerous and challenging situations.

  Gather as much information as you can, make a plan, and then act.

  As much as Honor Elizabeth desired to go charging into the ever-so-close bedroom and aid Josiah, she steeled herself to remain in place. She did not have to strain to hear Branch, thanks to the thinness of the wood making up the bedroom door and the man’s boisterous bravado.

  “I see that hatred in your eyes, boy! You can’t stand that I wouldn’t let you alone. You got smarter, I’ll say that for you. Took me a lot longer to track you down this time. You learned to cover your tracks pretty damn good! Not good enough though!”

  Josiah’s voice also came through the door, not as loud but she could hear it and it was strained. “I t
old you that night I wouldn’t say nothing! They weren’t no call for you to be tracking me down all these years.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, coon! Dumont was beginning to feel the same way. He was ready to give it up and send me on my way. Well, there was no way I was going to go off his payroll without one last big payday and that would be bringing him your head at last! Especially after I convinced him it was more important than ever what with the position he’s up for. Can’t have some disgruntled ex-slave showing up with the help of some former abolitionist or some other do-gooder spilling the beans that the man who could be the next ambassador to England killed his own pappy!”

  From her place on the floor, Honor continued to listen even as her eyes swept around the kitchen looking for anything that would make a handy weapon. Then she remembered above her head was the knife sticking out of the pie. When she was ready to make her escape, it would be going with her.

  “So why ain’t you killed me yet then!” Josiah fumed, his voice louder now.

  “In good time, boy, in good time! I’m gonna enjoy it, too, on account of how I had to spend all last month! Course you don’t know what I’m talking about. Been taking me lessons and learning how to take photographs and develop them. It’s not like I can drag your rotting corpse back across America, and Dumont wanted proof you were dead. So I’m going to take me some pictures. One showing you alive and one showing you dead. That’ll be more than enough proof for Dumont so he can pay me off and go on his merry way to hang out sipping tea with the Brits without a care in the world!”

  “You is gonna take my picture. I wouldn’t thought enough training in the world would be enough to learn you such a thing. Field hands always use to say, that Halfmoon, he be dumb as a post!”

 

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