Chapter 11
Another empty crate in hand, Honor turned back inside. The once-homey room stood stark and empty, shelves and furnishings nearly bare. Her eyes misted. She didn’t want to remember it this way.
Pull yourself together, Honor. You’ve got work to do.
Thanks to Teagan and Ellie, they wouldn’t be homeless. The one-room cabin on the far reaches of the Donovans’ ranch would suit until they could find something permanent.
After placing the box on the floor by the shelves, she reached for the old family Bible. She paused, opened to the record pages in the front. There, Mama and Papa’s marriage was listed among other family members’. The blank lines below Mama’s and Papa’s names stared up at her. Their names—hers and Ash’s—belonged there now. It finally felt right. She closed the cover and headed upstairs to the office, Bible in hand.
Ash sat at Papa’s desk, feet propped on the corner, stacks of papers covering the surface. Hands stilling on the stack in his hands, his eyes lit up as she entered. “What are you doing?”
“Thought I would record our marriage in the Bible before I pack it away.” Her eyes misted again. She gulped back the emotion and marched toward the desk.
His feet on the floor, Ash tugged her into his lap. She giggled, and as she lifted the book onto the desk, Ash nuzzled her neck. His whiskers tickled her skin, and the Bible fell flat on the desktop. Papers skittered in all directions, cascading to the floor.
Ash chuckled. “Oops. Sorry about that … sweetness.”
Honor twisted toward him, her eyes narrowing.
Mock concern flashed across his face. “Uh-oh. You’re not going to stomp my foot again, are you?”
Honor stifled a giggle and tried—failed—to look threatening. “Not this time.” Not ever.
“Good. Then clean up the mess you just made.” A devilish smile brought out the cleft in his chin.
She planted a fist against her hip. “Oh no. You made that mess. You deal with it.”
Ash laughed. “If you state it that way … yes, ma’am.”
She twisted forward and opened the Bible. Ash wrapped his arms around her waist, peeking around her as she retrieved Papa’s pen and wrote their names.
“There.” Honor bent to blow on the wet ink. Ash also bent and puckered, only his warm breath caressed the back of her ear and stirred a loose tendril of her hair. She laughed and squirmed as shivers raced over her skin.
“You, Mr. Rutherford, are an incorrigible tease.”
A roguish glint lit his brown eyes. “And you like it.”
Honor bit her lip. Yes, she did. But it wasn’t conducive to getting any work done.
She peeled his arms from around her middle and stood. He grinned playfully as he rose, and she ducked away toward the door. Rather than follow her, he bent to retrieve the papers.
“I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” She rounded the corner into the hall and started down the steps.
She was nearly to the bottom when he called. “Honor? You might want to see this.” The teasing tone had disappeared.
Concern overshadowed her thoughts. Setting the Bible on the step, she scrambled back to the office. “What’s wrong?”
“I found something among the fallen papers.” Expression serious, Ash handed her an envelope.
Her father’s distinctive scrawl embellished the front.
To Honor on your 21st Birthday. Love, Papa.
His voice rang in her mind as if from the grave. She covered her mouth with a suddenly trembling hand.
“Come sit with me.” Ash guided her to the chair, settled himself, and pulled her into his lap again.
She could only stare at the paper, head resting on Ash’s shoulder.
“Are you all right?”
She nodded, eyes moistening. “Maybe it’s foolish, but this is the last gift I’ll ever get from him. I want to make it last forever.”
He rubbed her back. “I understand, but what good is an unopened gift? Open it.”
Ash was right, yet still she hesitated. She ran her finger over the scrawled words then heaved a breath and broke the seal. She removed the papers, smoothing them before she began to read.
I, Orrin Cahill, deed the 2,500-acre parcel of land shown, now currently part of my holdings on Rancho Regalo de Esperanza, to my daughter, Honor Katherine Cahill. The property shall be hers solely, with no restrictions or liens. Also, she may select eighty head of cattle from my herd. The transfer of all notated properties shall become effective on September 1, 1875, Honor’s twenty-first birthday.
Signed, Orrin Augustus Cahill, on this day, June 25, 1875.
She stared at the bold script, thoughts moving like cold tar. The map of Rancho Regalo de Esperanza indicated the parcel with a thick line and shading to set it apart.
“Ash …” Hands trembling, she held the paper up.
“I read it.”
Papa gave her land? But … “What does this mean?”
“It seems pretty straightforward.”
“I mean in light of the will and the outcome of the hearing … the land being sold.”
After a moment, Ash pushed her up and scrambled after her. “It means we need to get over to Teagan’s place and make sure he doesn’t sell the ranch before we can get to town to see a judge.”
Lord, please—please—let us get in to see the judge today. Honor deserves a proper home, even if it’s not the one she’s always known.
Ash turned the wagon toward the courthouse. On horseback, Teagan rode beside them. The fact their friend had come along was a comfort. Perhaps the judge would look more favorably on him, a longtime resident of the area and executor of the will, since he had seemed unimpressed with Ash and his education during the recent hearing.
“Ash!” A familiar voice rang above the noisy streets.
He slowed the wagon and looked around. From an open second-story window in a nearby building, Eliza and Lucy waved.
Jaw slack, Ash stopped, and Teagan drew up just ahead of them.
“Who’s this?” Teagan called.
“Ash’s sisters,” came Honor’s answer.
Eliza and Lucy … here. “What are you doing?” His voice echoed against the building. They motioned for him to wait, then disappeared. His heart pounding, he parked the wagon beside the huge town square. The girls exited the quaint boardinghouse and dashed across the street.
He met them each with a hug. “What are you doing here?”
Eliza’s expression grew serious. “We never left. Father is—”
“Girls!” Father’s voice tolled sharply, and both Eliza and Lucy stiffened. Jaw set, the man marched toward them. Once he reached them, he clamped a hand around each girl’s shoulder and turned them toward the boardinghouse. “Inside. Now.”
Acid rose in Ash’s throat as he watched them go, straight into Mother’s beckoning arms.
Ash looked at the elder Rutherford. “Father. What are you doing here?”
“I’m glad you’ve come. It saves me the trip.” Ashton Junior turned a steely-eyed gaze his son’s way. “It’s time you return home.”
Ash’s thoughts spun. “I thought I made myself clear. I am home.”
“How long are you going to pursue this ridiculousness? You have a life of opportunity waiting in Philadelphia. You have nothing here.”
Nothing? “My wife is here, and therefore, my life is here. And lest you forget, California is a land full of opportunity, Father.”
The man snorted. “Not like I can offer. I’ll hand you everything you could dream of—and more. Out here, you’ll toil for whatever little bits you get.”
“But I’ll respect myself, Father. There’s nothing wrong with working with your muscles.” He looked back at Honor. “It’s a challenge.” One he liked.
Father grabbed his arm. “This is sheer stupidity. You have nothing here. I made sure of it. No ranch. No reason to remain in that sham of a marriage. Wise up and end this foolishness now.”
“You did what?” He’d made sure they had nothing? Ash’s thoughts churned.
“I’ve spoken with Judge Sutton about annulling this marriage. Once that’s done, you will return to Philadelphia and marry—”
Adrenaline poured through his veins, and Ash threw one solid punch. Father stumbled backward, lips spouting blood, and landed in the dirt. Instinct drove Ash forward, but Teagan darted between them and pushed him back.
“You don’t want to do this, son.”
He glared around Teagan as Father tottered to his feet. “Get out of my way.”
Teagan pushed him back, a restraining hand against his chest. “Walk away. Catch your breath. You don’t want to fight your father.”
Oh, but he did.…
“Especially not here.” Teagan nodded at the public square.
Honor slipped in front of him, her arms around his torso, blue eyes pleading.
“Ash, please, come with me.”
The urgency in her voice drained the fight out of him. She pushed him back until he finally turned and walked away of his own accord. Thoughts reeling, he replayed his father’s words.
“Are you all right?” She stared up at him.
“I never told Father how or why we married, yet he called our marriage a sham.”
Honor’s brow creased.
“And he said he had made sure we have nothing. Like the ranch.” He chewed on the information and locked eyes with her. “And the judge called me a Harvard upstart …?”
“I remember that. You made a valid point, and he overruled you, called you an upstart.”
“A Harvard upstart.” He glared across the square at Father and Teagan, exchanging what appeared to be heated words as they separated. “Teagan and Ellie are the only ones I’ve told about my schooling, and I don’t think they’d pass that news around.”
“They wouldn’t.”
Teagan stalked up, face grim. “Your father is something.”
Ash glared after Ashton Junior. “You have no idea.…” He detailed the little evidences to Teagan. “I think my father and Judge Sutton are working together to ruin Honor’s inheritance—and our marriage.”
Teagan looked toward the courthouse. “Leroy Bowen, the judge over the District Court, is a friend of mine. I’ll see if we can’t get an audience with him. Maybe he can call for an appeal about the will.”