Desert Moon Read online

  “Rough trails! You mean this one isn’t?” Honor was astonished.

  “Of course not. This one’s for beginners and tenderfeet.” The guide turned away and didn’t catch Honor’s expression.

  Phillip did, and laughed. “Don’t look so shocked, Honor. This is Arizona.”

  All the way through the rest time and back up the canyon she thought of what Phillip had said. Arizona. It was everything she had dreamed of and more. Soft color stole to her hairline. “Phillip, when—when we’re married, would you show me Arizona? All of it?”

  “Fervently.” The meaning in his one word sent a glow through her. What a change it was, being cared for and protected. The contrast between these past few days and her bleak life since the death of her parents brought a quick rush of emotion to Honor. How could she doubt Phillip in any way when he was so ready to please her?

  By the time they got back it was growing a bit dusky. This time Honor didn’t fall off Old Baldy; she had to be helped off. “What’s wrong with my legs?”

  “You’re going to be pretty stiff, young lady,” the guide warned her. “Take a hot bath and get to bed early. You’ll be hobbling a bit tomorrow.”

  The dire prediction came true. Not only was she hobbling, but Honor also found it took her three tries to get out of bed! Only Phillip’s note telling her he’d wait and have breakfast when she did spurred her on.

  “Miss Honor, are you going to marry Mr. Travis?” Heather’s face was innocent in front of the huge bow in her blond hair.

  Before Honor could reply, Phillip said, “I certainly hope so.”

  “Well!” Mrs. Stone looked as if the breath had been knocked from her. “Why haven’t you told us, Honor?”

  Phillip came to her rescue, adroitly drawing attention away from the scarlet cheeks above her high-necked white shirtwaist. “She was afraid you’d think it a little sudden.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Honor caught Ben Stone’s frown and found her tongue. “I knew Phillip years ago. He was in San Francisco….” She sounded incoherent even to herself. “I guess I never forgot him, and—” Mrs. Stone cut her off by congratulating Phillip. But Mr. Stone whispered, “Are you happy, Honor?”

  “Yes.” Joy suffused her face with even more color. “He’s everything I ever wanted.” Was that a disappointed look in her employer’s eyes? Honor pushed the thought aside. How could anyone be disappointed with Phillip?

  There was something she must determine now the engagement had been announced. Later, in their favorite spot by the canyon, Honor watched Phillip teasing a frisky squirrel, wondering how to approach him.

  “What are you thinking?” he demanded.

  It was the perfect opening. “How glad I am I found you again.” A dark flush stained his face. “Was it you who found me? I thought I found you.”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “None, to me.” His arms reached for her, but she leaned back.

  “Phillip, do—” her voice trembled “—do you care dreadfully for drinking and all that?”

  He sat up abruptly and stared at her. “What are you? A preacher?”

  It was her turn to flush. “No. I just wondered.” She took a deep breath. “I just don’t believe in those things.” Her voice was small. “I don’t know how well I’ll fit in your world—or you in mine.”

  “I’m a heathen, Honor.” He didn’t catch her involuntary look of dismay. A steel hand seemed to squeeze her heart. She had known he was no Christian and accepted it. But this—

  “Do you believe in God?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” He waved an indolent hand toward the canyon. “It took a Master Plan to build that.”

  Honor turned her head to hide her feelings, scarcely able to sort them out. Why did she feel disappointed about his statement? What did she have to lose when she had already put God aside?

  “I don’t care about drinking when I have you. You can do with me what you like. I’m weak with the crowd. You’re seeing the best of me here.”

  In spite of the heat waves bouncing off the colorful canyon walls, Honor felt a chill trickle down her spine. “You have everything, Phillip. Why follow the crowd?”

  A somber shadow crossed his face. “Because of my brother. If he weren’t so competent maybe I would be stronger. He thinks it’s easier to do everything himself than wait for me to do it. He’s right.” The shadow deepened. “Don’t get me wrong. I love him more than anyone on earth except you, but if he would shove me out and tell me to sink or swim I would be better off.”

  “What a terrible thing to say!”

  “Is it?” Phillip’s face contorted. “Let’s forget it, kiddo. We’ll be happy like they are.” He pointed to a bird singing his heart out to his mate.

  Honor’s throat constricted as she matched the change of mood. Now was no time to preach. Deep inside, resentment of the way Phillip’s brother treated him began to grow. Was he an ogre? Even Babs had said he was a hundred years older in outlook. He must be an old fogy, set in his ways. She could just see him: burly; a little uncouth, perhaps, in spite of being the charming Phillip’s brother.

  Her lips set. She would not build up dislike before meeting him. But once she was established at Casa del Sol she intended to have a little talk with Phillip’s brother.

  Chapter 4

  Incredible as it seemed, summer was nearly over. Mr. Stone reluctantly told them at breakfast one morning, “My business is piling up back home.” He looked across at Phillip. “I don’t want to rush you, but if you still want us to visit your ranch, it will have to be soon.”

  Phillip rose to the occasion gracefully. “Of course I do! I’ll go ahead myself, maybe even leave today. We’ll be waiting for you when you come.” The look he gave Honor brought flags flying in her cheeks. That afternoon while Heather napped, Phillip led Honor to their private spot by the canyon’s edge.

  “It’s only the beginning, you know.” He looked deep into her eyes, and she bit back the impulse to deny it. Ever since she had known he was to leave and go ahead without her a strange feeling—was it premonition?—had filled her. Perhaps it was because she had overheard Babs say, “About time we were leaving, old thing. It’s getting a little tiresome here this time. I’ll ride with you, of course.”

  Phillip evidently didn’t sense how lost Honor felt. He was going on about what a wonderful time they’d have at Casa del Sol and how she would love being mistress of the ranch.

  “Phillip—” Must her voice shake? Something terrifying gripped her, as if she stood on a high pinnacle, ready to be swept away forever. “Do you really think I can make you happy?”

  His eyes warmed. Taking both her hands in his own he drew her close, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. “I am the one who should be asking that.” The humility so strange to his nature surfaced again. “You are everything I ever wanted, and much more than I deserve. Fate has been kind.”

  Honor’s own eyes brimmed. If Phillip felt like that, helping him find happiness away from his wild companions should not be such a mountainous task.

  Then he was gone. A final kiss, a careless wave, and Phillip Travis disappeared around the bend, leaving a strangely silent canyon.

  At first Honor felt bereft. Then she sternly snapped out of it. She was here to be with Heather and was touched when Heather said, “I like Mr. Travis. He was a’f’ly nice about taking us places.” She skipped alongside Honor on the trail to the rim, and her hand slid confidingly into Honor’s. “But it’s nice just us, isn’t it? Like it was back home.”

  Compunction filled Honor. Had she neglected her duties to Heather because of Phillip? She silently shook her head. No, her times with Phillip alone had been while Heather slept or was otherwise occupied. She hugged the little girl hard, knowing how much she would miss her. “Yes, it is.”

  Heather stopped short under a huge pine, feet planted firmly in the needle-carpeted ground. “You won’t be going home with us, will you? Mama says that you’ll stay at t
hat ranch.” Her bright little face clouded over. “What am I going to do without you?”

  Honor had dreaded the moment but was prepared. “I talked with your mama and daddy. Heather, they’ve decided to let you go to school this fall. You’ll be six, and it’s time. You’re going to have a wonderful time. You already know your letters so you’ll be ahead of some of the others. There will be other boys and girls and—”

  “You mean it?” A smile crept onto Heather’s face, chasing away her tears. “Oh, Miss Honor, that’s next best to having you!” She clapped her hands and bounced in glee. “But first we get to go to the ranch and ride ponies. Mr. Travis promised.”

  But Heather was doomed to disappointment.

  Ben Stone’s face was filled with distress as he came into the dining room, where the rest of their party waited for him so they could start dinner. “A case is coming up, and I must go back tomorrow. I didn’t think it would be until later, but I must get home—right away.”

  “But the ranch,” Heather wailed. “What about our visit—and Honor?”

  Mr. Stone sighed. “Honor can go ahead with her plans. I believe it’s only a matter of weeks until she is being married. I’ll hire a car and driver to take her to Casa del Sol.”

  “But won’t you need me on the way back to San Francisco?”

  “My dear!” Ben Stone didn’t catch his wife’s look at the involuntary endearment. Neither did he see her eyes narrow, noticing how beautiful Honor had grown during her stay at the canyon. He was too intent on expressing gratitude. “We are in your debt. You will be well chaperoned by Mama Rosa. Perhaps we can visit another time.”

  Laurene’s words fell like hard, cold rocks, every trace of former friendliness gone. “My husband,” she emphasized the words, “is right. I am perfectly capable of handling Heather on the way home.”

  Honor was shocked at the fury in her face, then comprehension came. The woman was jealous! It was all Honor could do to quietly stand. “I’ll start packing, right away. I really am not hungry.” She escaped with face burning, humiliated by the unjust accusation in Mrs. Stone’s eyes.

  Her last night at the canyon was filled with troubled dreams, darkness, hands reaching out. She awoke bathed in perspiration, calling out, “Phillip!” Was something wrong at the ranch? Could Phillip have been hurt? She had never given much heed to dreams, but this one left her unnerved.

  The driver Mr. Stone hired was taciturn. While the tires nibbled away the miles, Honor had time to reflect. Bitterness toward Mrs. Stone gradually was replaced by pity. What a terrible way to live, suspecting even a hired governess of trying to capture a loved one! She determinedly put the thoughts aside. It was a glorious time to be in Arizona. Already the leaves were beginning to show color. She could picture the bold and golden way the land would look later.

  “Take the road toward Kendrick Peak,” Phillip had instructed. “About five miles out there is a sign pointing north. Just stay on the road to Casa del Sol. We’ve had it graded.”

  His casual directions should have prepared her. They hadn’t. She saw the turnoff then the sign boldly blazoned over an arched entrance and cut into a wooden frame, almost as if in a trance. They drove down an endless, tree-lined lane. Honor marveled, even pinching herself to be sure it was real. It was.

  Finally they swung around a gentle curve and stopped. The driver unloaded her bags, murmured a quick good-bye and was gone, leaving her staring ahead. Before her lay the mansion, reminiscent of old Spanish dons. Phillip had said it was a Spanish hacienda. He hadn’t told her how the warm cream walls and the red tile roof nestled into the hills as if it had been created there. He hadn’t told her that it was built around a courtyard. Through an open iron gate, she glimpsed a fountain, flowers, even singing birds. Weakly she leaned against the lacy ironwork. It was too much. How could she ever belong to such a kingdom?

  Memory of Babs’s taunt flashed through her mind. Honor’s chin came up. She would fit in. She would show them all. She and Phillip loved each other, and it was all that was important. It steadied her, but as she slowly approached the great carved door her heart fluttered. Would Phillip seem a little unapproachable here in his own setting?

  “May I help you?” Liquid brown eyes in a round face above a spotless white apron looked at her curiously as the door opened.

  “Mama Rosa!” Honor impulsively held out her hand, taking the older woman’s hand in her own.

  “You know me?” The puzzle had not left the housekeeper’s face.

  “Oh, yes. Phillip has told me all about you.”

  “Oh. Felipe. You are his friend? Come in. You are welcome.”

  “I am—” What check chained her from adding, “his fiancée”? “I am his friend,” Honor substituted. “Is Phillip here?” She looked expectantly around the great hall, subconsciously noting the dark wood against cream walls, the high vaulted ceilings.

  “No, he has gone—”

  Honor felt his presence before he spoke from behind her. “I’ll handle this, Mama Rosa.”

  The Mexican woman opened her lips to protest, but Honor was already whirling toward the doorway behind her. “Phillip!” Her greeting fell to a whisper. “What has happened to you?” Her horrified eyes took in the bloodstained bandage around his head, the way he leaned against the wall for support. “Darling, my dream was true. You’re hurt!”

  “It’s all right.” He caught her in mid-flight, before she could throw her arms around him. “Mama Rosa, can you get me something for this? That ornery colt Juan and I were working with stumbled and threw me against the corner of the fence.”

  Mama Rosa came to life and scuttled away, but Honor clung to Phillip. “You must sit down.” She spied a blanket-covered couch against the opposite wall and half led him there. “Oh, Phillip, I just knew something terrible had happened. That’s why I got here so early.”

  The man on the couch looked at her wearily. “You call me Phillip. I don’t seem to have had the pleasure of meeting you.”

  Honor stared at him, unable to believe her own ears. “Not know me! You mean you don’t remember the canyon—or anything?”

  He passed his hand over his eyes. “I don’t seem to. Would you mind terribly? Could we talk later?”

  Her face reflected how stricken her soul was, but she only said slowly, “You mean the blow on the head has erased everything—you really don’t know who I am?”

  Her agony must have shown. The dull eyes looked sympathetic. “I’m sorry.” He turned toward Mama Rosa, who had come in with a basin and antiseptic. “Mama Rosa, give this young lady a room. What did you say your name was?”

  “Honor Brooks.”

  Phillip staggered to his feet. “I’ll talk with you later, Miss Brooks. Wait here until Mama finishes with me, and she’ll show you where to go.” He lurched against her, then with Mama as guide, disappeared into another room, leaving Honor alone.

  She sank to the couch, automatically smoothing the blanket. What a horrible thing to have happen! What should she do? Phillip looked so ghastly with that bloody bandage on his head, not at all like the man she had known. Yet a great sympathy went through her. How must he feel, being hurt and entering his home to find a perfect stranger there, one who called him “darling” and insisted he knew her?

  She sprang to her feet. Why was she standing there doing nothing? Couldn’t she help? But before she could more than take a step in the direction he had gone, Mama Rosa came back. “Come with me, please.” She led the way up a curved staircase and into a room at the right. “You will stay here.”

  “But how is he?”

  Mama Rosa’s impassive face widened in a smile. “He is fine. It is nothing for him to be thrown. Now he needs rest. He will see you after siesta.” She threw back the covers of the huge bed so in keeping with the other decor. “Rest. I will tell you when to come.” The smile came again. “But first I bring you a tamale.”

  “Thank you, Mama Rosa.” The door closed behind her. Honor smiled. Even in his pain Phill
ip must have thought of her. The plate Mama Rosa brought contained not only tamales but a taco as well, bearing little resemblance to the pale imitations Honor had eaten in San Francisco. She drank glasses of ice water to get the heat from her mouth then threw herself on the bed. If siesta was the custom here, she was all for it.

  After her sleepless night, the good food and warm room had done its work well. She slept until slanting afternoon sun rays filled the room. She had only stirred enough to torpidly reach for her shoes when Mama Rosa tapped at the partly open door.

  “Come now.”

  Honor ran a brush through her hair and followed the Mexican woman down a long hall, carpeted in red, to the open door of a huge room. “You go in there.” Mama Rosa stood aside.

  Why should she feel strangely unwilling to cross the threshold? For a moment she hesitated, then the rich voice she had learned to love called, “Come in.”

  She stepped inside, glancing quickly toward Phillip. He was not lying down as she had expected. He was seated behind the most massive desk she had ever seen. This must be the study. It had all the stark necessities of a business office: typewriter, file cabinets, everything needed to proclaim it the utilitarian room it was. Honor bit back her disappointment. Even if he didn’t remember her, did he have to fortify himself behind that desk? It was as she had feared and more. He was not only unapproachable; he was totally remote from anything connected with her.

  She could delay looking at him no longer. To her relief the bandage had given way to a smaller patch near his hairline. He still looked pale, but it could be the filtered light through the heavy drapes.

  Phillip leaned toward her, motioning her to a chair at the end of the desk. “Miss Brooks, this must come as quite a shock to you. You don’t know how sorry I am.”

  “It is a shock, Phillip.” Could that strained voice really be hers? “After the past few weeks, all our plans—” she faltered. How could she talk to the stone-faced man across the desk?