Chapter 7

Nerves jangling, Honor drew her horse to a sliding stop as she reached the edge of Nate’s ranch yard. Already off his horse, Ash strode up to her half brother.

“Nate, you and I need to settle something, man to man.” Ash threw the empty gunnysack, hitting Nate square in the chest.

No, no, no …

“I reckon you found those extra wedding gifts I left ya.”

Gifts … More than one? A sensation akin to a thousand crawling spiders rolled down Honor’s spine.

“So you’ve come to thank me?” Nate’s sneer deepened.

The sound of carriage wheels and clopping hooves filled the air. Behind them, Ash’s family rumbled up in the carriage, despite the fact Honor had warned them to stay put and not to enter the house.

“I’ve come to teach you a lesson.” Ash squared off in a boxing stance, fists raised and feet spread.

“Ash, don’t!” Honor dismounted, though her feet instantly rooted to the ground.

Nate laughed as he circled. “Yeah, Ash … don’t. Wouldn’t wanna thrash you in front of your wife.”

“I’ll have you know, I was a boxer at Harvard.” Ash jabbed, catching Nate on the cheekbone.

Nate scowled, as if the snapping blow was only a buzzing insect.

“Never lost a match.” Ash jabbed again and followed it with a solid right cross. Nate stumbled backward. Her husband moved in, fists flying. He landed several resounding punches, rocking Nate onto his heels.

“Ash, stop!” He didn’t know what he’d stirred up. Nate was vicious when riled, and from the look in his eye, riled he was.

Her half brother caught himself, ducked low, and rushed Ash. Both men toppled into the dirt, Ash landing with a thud on his back. Nate straddled Ash’s body, knees pinning his arms. He struck blow after blow.

The sickening punches sent nausea spiraling through Honor. Forcing her feet to move, she yanked her Spencer repeating rifle from its scabbard. As Nate continued to pound Ash, she ran to the two men and leveled the long gun at Nate’s face. “Stop it. Now.”

Nate stalled, shot a frigid scowl her way, and batted the gun barrel aside like a toy. He returned his attention to Ash.

Lord, help me, please.

Honor stepped in and smashed the butt of the rifle above Nate’s ear. He toppled sideways, grabbing his head. She cocked the hammer and shouldered the rifle, hand on the lever.

“Don’t make me shoot you, Nate.” I will if I have to, Lord … but I hope You know I don’t want to.

One hand braced against the ground, he glared.

Ash groaned and shoved Nate off then rolled to his knees. Face bloodied, he stood but nearly fell again. She sidled up to him, and he steadied himself against her shoulder.

“Can you ride?” she whispered as he got his feet under him, her eyes focused on her half brother.

“Yes.” Ash staggered toward his horse.

“How many?” She ground out the words. “How many snakes did you set loose in my house?”

Nate chuckled. “A few.”

She leveled the Spencer with his nose and worked the lever. “You better be more specific than that.”

His face paled and his Adam’s apple bobbed, though the cold glare never left his eyes. “Five.”

Lord, have mercy. She gritted her teeth. “Be thankful Papa raised me right, or you’d be bleeding to death about now.” She backed up before glancing over her shoulder.

Ash had mounted his horse, apparently with the help of his father.

Honor turned on Nate. “Don’t come around my house or property anymore. You’re not welcome.” She kept the rifle leveled on Nate until she was beside her mount.

Nate smirked. “Don’t forget what I said, you little brat. That ranch is rightfully mine, and I’m gonna have it.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Honor swung into the saddle. Once Ash had headed out, followed by the carriage, she spurred her horse after them.

Ash had taken some hard hits in the boxing ring, but none had prepared him for the brutal and dirty way Nate brawled. If he’d only fought like a gentleman and let Ash do the same, rather than knocking him to the ground and pinning him.…

In front of Father, Mother, his sisters. And Honor.

He should have kept a level head, found a better way to deal with Nate, though his family’s unannounced appearance, and especially Father’s rude comments about Honor, had added to his ire.

Rifle in hand, Honor raced up beside him and slowed her horse to match his pace. “Are you hurt?”

Head throbbing in time with his horse’s hooves, he took stock of his other aches and pains. Blood trickled down his left cheek from a cut along his cheekbone. His left eye had swollen quite a bit. His jaw along the right side was tender, possibly swollen. Lips were raw. Nothing life-threatening, though he was a little dizzy and his muscles shook after the surge of adrenaline.

He kept his focus on the horizon. “I’ll live.”

Though his pride might die a slow and humiliating death.

“I’m glad.” Her voice rasped.

Ash looked her way. As she stowed the rifle, her chin quivered and her eyes glistened. Tears … for him? He furrowed his brow, though the movement sent pain rattling through his skull. He groaned and cupped his forehead in his hand.

“We need to get you cleaned up.”

He couldn’t help his sudden grin. They both needed cleaning up. They still sported the telltale signs of their mud fight.

When they reached the ranch yard, Ash and Honor both turned to face his family as their carriage rumbled up and stopped.

“What is going on?” Father’s voice was stern. “Why did you pick a fight with that man?”

Ash leaned on the saddle horn, his strength waning. “I don’t mean to be rude, Father, but it would be best if you all went back to town.”

“We’ve come all this way to see you, and you’re sending us away?” Mother gave him a pitiful look.

Honor lifted her chin. “You’re welcome to stay, Mrs. Rutherford. Just be aware … we have five rattlesnakes loose in our home, and until I can attend to Ash’s injuries, I can’t go snake hunting. The best we might offer you and your family for the night is some hay and blankets in the barn loft.”

Ash turned to her. “Please don’t think you’ll hunt those snakes by yourself. I don’t want you hurt.” His whispered words elicited only a sigh from her.

Mother’s eyes widened, and her cheeks paled. “Oh.” She turned to Father. “Perhaps we should go back to town, Ashton.”

“I would say so.” Ashton Junior looked them both over, his disdain for Honor apparent. He pinned Ash with a glare. “However, expect us to return tomorrow.”

Of course. He’d expect nothing less.

As they drove off, Eliza peeked out from the back of the carriage, offering a little wave. Ash nodded at her. He did miss his sisters, if not Mother and Father. Theirs would be a welcome visit, when it finally came.

“C’mon.” Honor headed across the ranch yard.

Ash followed. “Where are you going?”

“Until we can get those snakes out of the house, I figure we could use the bunkhouse stove to heat some water and get you cleaned up.”

His bride took charge, seating him on an unused bunk near the door. Ash gingerly stretched out, back propped against the wall. Honor rummaged around until she found rags and a small pot and pressed a cloth to the cut on his cheekbone.

“Hold this. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She guided his hand to the cloth then disappeared outside. The squeak of the well pump broke the stillness.

Ash closed his eyes. He must have dozed off, for when he opened them again, Honor was seated beside him, cloth in hand. With a tender touch, she washed his face and ministered to his cuts and bruises. “Manuel returned from the south pasture a bit ago.”

“Yeah?” The head vaquero’s comings and goings weren’t a usual topic for conversation. The old Mexican knew his job, did it well, and kept the rest of the vaqueros in line for Honor, just as he’d done for her papa for many years.

“When I told him what Nate had done, he offered to hunt down the snakes for us. He’s taking care of that now.”

Relief washed through him. Tired and sore as he was, he’d be little use in searching out the reptiles today, and he didn’t want her doing it by herself. Not that she wasn’t tenacious enough. She’d faced down the two-legged snake, Nate, with courage. There was no doubt she’d do the same with the belly-crawling variety, but he didn’t want her hurt.

“I got some clean clothes for you, if you want to change from those muddy things.”

As she dabbed at his injuries, he took a better look at her. She’d washed and changed into a dark blue skirt and white blouse. Women’s clothes. That was a welcome sight. She’d even redone her hair, with soft curls piled atop her head in a fetching arrangement.

“You’re beautiful.” The words rolled off his tongue, unbidden.

Her hands stilled, and as she rewet the cloth, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “You’re delirious. That, or you can’t see straight with that eye swollen up like it is.”

He caught her hand as she reached to dab at the corner of his mouth. “I see just fine. You’re beautiful, strong, tender …”

Her cheeks blossomed red. “Stop that.” She pulled her hand from his grasp and carried on.

He didn’t want to stop. The same protectiveness he felt for Eliza and Lucy welled in his chest when he looked at her, only mixed with something more. A warmth, a depth he didn’t feel toward his little sisters.

Was he falling in love with his wife?