Desert Moon Read online

  “I believe it. It’s almost too much for one family.”

  “That’s what my brother says.” Phillip’s eyes were somber.

  A strange feeling dimmed the sun streaming down on them. He couldn’t mean his brother was considering selling the ranch! Not just when she had determined to make Phillip a part of it. She started to speak, thought better of it, and said, “I just hope I can be—”

  She never finished the sentence. A man on a horse was racing toward them, a yellow paper in his hand.

  Honor looked at Phillip. His face was the color of parchment. He spurred his horse, and the white stallion leaped forward. Flying hooves ate the distance between the two men. Honor started to follow. She was struck by the rigidity of Phillip’s figure as he took the yellow paper and read it. She automatically hesitated, and Phillip turned back toward her. As he shortened the space between them she couldn’t help admiring the ease with which he rode.

  The parchment color had left his face, replaced by a dark flush. “Honor, would you marry me right away? Before the end of the week?”

  “But we agreed—”

  “I know. I just don’t feel that way any longer. You don’t want a big fancy wedding, do you?”

  “No, Phillip.” She had a terrifying sense of something lurking ahead, some unknown danger. “I just want a simple ceremony. But I wanted more time, time for you to remember…” Her voice gave way.

  “I know.” He touched his mount’s side lightly with his heels, bringing him alongside Jingles. “I’ll take care of you, Honor. I’ll make sure you don’t come to any harm. Won’t you do as I ask?”

  Honor’s eyes dropped to the yellow page still in Phillip’s hand. Sudden understanding filled her.

  Phillip’s eyes followed her gaze. “Yes, it’s from my brother. He will be home sometime next week.”

  Honor couldn’t bear the way his head drooped, as if in shame. A great wave of love and understanding again flooded her. Phillip needed her. He dreaded the homecoming, what might happen. Would there be violent objections? The same protective warmth that had stirred the night before crept into her veins. If disappointment mingled with it, she valiantly pushed it back. Did it really matter if she knew this white-faced man weeks, months, or years? Again she squelched the yes! her conscience was shouting. If Phillip needed her so much, how could she refuse? “The only white dress I have is one I made from a discard of Mrs. Stone’s wardrobe.”

  “You don’t think that matters!” He swept her into his arms. It was enough to eliminate any lingering doubt she might have had.

  On the way home Honor was quiet. Phillip did not attempt to intrude on her thoughts. It wasn’t until he helped her down that he said, “Honor, no matter what happens, you won’t ever despise me, will you?”

  He knows I know he is weak. Honor bit back a betraying rush of tears. “I will love you as long as I live.”

  Phillip did not kiss her again. Instead he held her close to his rapidly beating heart. “It’s the only way. When you understand, when—”

  “I already understand.” She placed gloved fingers over his lips.

  “Rest a bit before lunch, Honor. This Arizona weather is far different from what you are used to in San Francisco.”

  “I noticed I had a little trouble breathing.”

  “We’re several thousand feet high. You’ll adjust in a few days.”

  Honor ran upstairs. In just a few days she would be Phillip’s wife—for better or worse. Why did that phrase have to pop up? She whirled into her room.

  Carlotta, in school skirt and middy blouse, looked up from folding back the bedspread. Her Spanish ancestry showed in her shining dark hair and eyes. “How do you like Casa del Sol?”

  “I don’t know if I can ever be worthy of it.”

  She repeated the words later that week to Phillip. They had ridden through the soft twilight to a different knoll above the valley. “This place—can I ever be worthy of it?”

  “Worthy? You? It is I—” He broke off, unseeing eyes tracing the pattern of a bubbling stream in the valley that was only a silver thread from their viewpoint.

  “You will be worthy, too, Phillip. When your brother comes, we’ll show him that you really want to be a part of the ranch. He will respect your feelings.”

  Phillip’s dark eyes flashed. “The ogre, as you nicknamed him?”

  Honor turned beet red. “I’m sorry for that. I really didn’t mean it. It’s just that I want us to be happy here.” The wistfulness in her voice brought a squeeze from Phillip’s hand that threatened to crush her fingers, even in the sturdy riding gloves Carlotta had furnished.

  “I pray you will never be anything here but happy.”

  “Just to think that a few weeks ago Mr. Stone was telling me not to come down here and marry some Arizonan!” She laughed.

  “Would you rather have waited and asked him to the wedding?”

  Honor felt the tension in the question. “No. He would never understand how I could be so sure so quickly, when all my life I’ve been waiting.” Her fiery color intensified until it matched the jutting rocks near where they had stopped. “I’m not sure I understand myself.”

  “You aren’t regretting it?”

  There was no hesitation. “No, Phillip. I will never regret marrying you tomorrow.”

  “You’re the sweetest thing on earth.” He leaned across from his horse Sol’s back to kiss her, almost reverently. “I will do everything in my power to keep you from regretting it.” His eyes were like glittering obsidian in a chalky face. “Honor, will you promise to trust me, no matter what?”

  “I will.”

  Even later, as she dressed for her last hours as a single woman, Honor thought of the scene on the little plateau. Tomorrow she would take her wedding vows. But her real vow had been taken on that little plateau overlooking Casa del Sol.

  “This time tomorrow I’ll be your wife.” Honor’s eyes were pools of happiness as Phillip walked her to her door that night. The moonlit night threw patterns of fantastic beauty across the upper hall.

  “Yes.” Why did Phillip seem distracted?

  “You—you aren’t regretting?”

  She felt him start in the dimness. “I regret nothing.” He captured her, kissing her the way he had done that first night she arrived at Casa del Sol. Honor’s doubts fled before the intensity of his love. It was a long time before she broke away.

  “Good night, Phillip.” She slipped through the heavy door, closing it behind her. Just before it shut out all sounds, somewhere in the hacienda a bell rang. The telephone? What if Philip’s brother—she laughed at her own fancies. How melodramatic to think a disapproving man would appear on the doorstep at the eleventh hour to stop her wedding!

  At last Honor had time to think.

  Tomorrow Juan and Rosa and Carlotta would go to Flagstaff for her wedding with Phillip. Carlotta would be her bridesmaid. Phillip had said earlier this evening he had arranged for them to be married by a minister.

  Her heart swelled. How thoughtful! He had instinctively known how she would want it. But a horrendous thought marred her happiness.

  What if Phillip’s brother should be in Flagstaff?

  She punched her pillow then buried her face in its cooling depths. She must get over this obsession about the man! All she knew about him was the little Phillip had told her.

  Again Honor heard hooves in the night and ran to her window. Again she saw the tall dark-haired man mount an unsaddled white horse, one she now knew as Sol. Was he nervous about tomorrow? The thought was strangely comforting. She had been so sure she’d never sleep. Now she dove into bed and moments later was unconscious.

  “Señorita, you are beautiful!” There was no disapproving silence about Rosa this morning. “Señora Dolores would be proud to have you marry her son!”

  Honor’s eyes filled. Early this morning a large box had arrived with a note from Phillip:

  I know you have a white dress to be married in.

  I
hope you will wear this with it.

  There had been no signature, but inside had been the most exquisitely wrought lace mantilla Honor had ever seen or imagined. Slightly yellowed with age, it only brought out the highlights of her skin.

  “I don’t know how to wear it,” she confessed to Carlotta.

  “We will help you,” the beautiful bridesmaid promised, her dark face picking up color from the soft, rosy gown she wore. Now as Honor faced herself in the mirror, it was not only her own image she saw but the joy on the faces of Rosa and Carlotta. Turning impulsively she threw her arms around them both, heedless of the priceless mantilla. “I am so glad I came to Arizona!”

  “We are glad, too! You and Señor will be very happy.” Carlotta’s eyes danced.

  “We will help you dress and arrange the mantilla when we get to Flagstaff,” Rosa promised as they disrobed her and carefully packed her dress and mantilla in boxes. “Bad luck for bridegroom to see you in dress before wedding.”

  “Mamacita believes in old customs.” Carlotta laughed, but there was genuine respect and love in her voice.

  “I think I do, too.” Honor danced to the window, still in her long white slip. “Was there ever a more beautiful day for a bride? I’m a fall person. You know, my birthday is next week.”

  Rosa beamed. “Why did you not wait and be married on your birthday?”

  “Phillip didn’t want to wait so long.” Her voice was muffled in her slip as she quickly drew on a simple dress for the drive into Flagstaff. “I think he’s a little bit afraid of his brother coming home and stopping the wedding.”

  In the absolute silence that fell Honor pulled the top triumphantly over her head and settled it. Only then did she realize how still it had become. She was instantly contrite! “I shouldn’t have said that! It is just that I want us all to be happy, and I wish he would come!”

  Rosa’s somber glance reminded Honor of the way she had responded when Honor first came. Quietly she gathered up the slip and packed it then turned toward the door. “Señor Travis is a fine man.” She slipped out, leaving Honor staring.

  “It’s all right.” Carlotta seemed anxious to bridge the uncomfortable moment. “Mamacita thinks the sun doesn’t come up or go down without first consulting Señor!”

  Honor laughed in spite of feeling guilty, picturing the sun bowing daily before Casa del Sol and asking permission to rise and set! “Just where is he now?” Honor inquired as she ran a brush through her hair.

  “Oh, here and there.” Carlotta sounded vague, disinclined to discuss his whereabouts. “Where are you going for your honeymoon—or do you know?”

  “Right here. Where could there be anything more glorious?” She spun about and frowned. “When we were at the canyon we talked about going back after we were married. Carlotta, it’s so strange. He still doesn’t seem to remember a lot of what happened at the canyon.”

  “Why is it important?” The liquid brown eyes shifted.

  Honor turned back to the window, noting how the golden leaves fluttered—cottonwood, aspen, birch. She had learned to love them all. “He just seems so much older here. Different. More mature.”

  The watching eyes reflected breathlessness in Carlotta’s question. “Which do you love more? The canyon man, or this one?”

  Honor’s face glowed. “I love the man who owns Casa del Sol. More than anything in the world.”

  “Then I suggest you come with me and marry him.” The laughing invitation from the doorway brought consternation to Carlotta’s face until she saw Honor light up and bow. “I’ll do just that.”

  “You like my invitation, Señorita?” The watching dark eyes were suddenly sober.

  “I love your invitation, Señor.” She turned to Carlotta. “Coming?”

  “No. Mamacita and Papa and I will take our own car. You will want to come back alone.” Her flashing smile added to her beauty.

  “That’s right, Carlotta. I’m going to want my wife all to myself for a few hours.”

  Honor could feel a tiny pulse beating in her throat. “You’ll bring everything, Carlotta?”

  “Everything.”

  Carlotta was as good as her word. A few hours later she carefully lifted the priceless mantilla to Honor’s head. But it was for Rosa to carefully adjust its folds so it cascaded to Honor’s shoulders. Something in Honor’s eyes seem to touch the good woman’s heart. “Be happy, Señorita.” She pressed her warm brown cheek to Honor’s paler one, feeling the clutch of nervous fingers before Honor laughed.

  “It is time.” Carlotta threw open the door of the little room next to the chapel.

  How could Phillip have arranged so much in such a short time? The small chapel seemed smothered with autumn leaves, dark fir branches. Fall flowers of every color perfumed the room. The measured tones of the “Wedding March” from Lohengrin softly pulsated, keeping time to Honor’s beating heart.

  Honor clutched her bouquet of old-fashioned flowers. They must have been especially chosen by Phillip from those she admired most in his courtyard. Late roses, even a few tiny forget-me-nots. It was a shame for such a perfect wedding to be seen by so few.

  Carlotta’s rosy skirt swished to a standstill. It was Honor’s turn. Shakily, she started down the long aisle, seeing nothing except Phillip waiting for her.

  The wedding ceremony was a little blurred. Only one thing really stood out in the kaleidoscope of Honor’s memory. When the minister turned to Phillip he said, “Do you, James Travis, take this woman…”

  Honor gasped, feeling as if inchworms were measuring her spine. The next moment Phillip’s strong had tightened reassuringly on her own. His face was pale, but the dark eyes were steady. Honor wondered how the minister could have made such a mistake. Obviously it was all right, or Phillip would have stopped the service for a correction. Her surprise soon settled down. Of course—James must be Phillip’s first name and necessary for legal documents. Her unanswered musings were drowned in the “I do” that rang from the arched beams of the little chapel.

  Honor’s own response was quieter. Two words, so little to signify passing her life into James Phillip Travis’s keeping until death did them part. She blinked back mist that hid the scene for a moment, realizing as never before how truly irrevocable that promise was.

  “I pronounce you man and wife. What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” In spite of her joy, Honor shivered. How could any man or woman break promises as solemn as the vows in the wedding service?

  Phillip turned to her. His lips found hers, lingering as if loath to let her go. She could feel his resignation when he finally released her. Her heart responded. Their first kiss as man and wife; holy, beautiful. If only everyone would just go away and leave them alone! But it was not to be. From somewhere a photographer appeared.

  “I thought you would want pictures,” her new husband explained. “But not during the actual ceremony. I’ve seen too many weddings interrupted by photographers. Would you mind posing with me, Mrs. Travis?”

  “Not a bit, Mr. Travis.” Excitement like a skyrocket trembled within her as she laughed and smiled. Phillip had even arranged for a wedding cake in a nearby restaurant’s private room. “We want pictures for our children.” He watched her color rise as she stammered.

  “It’s a bit hard to talk to a brand-new husband, isn’t it?” She finally gave up small-talk efforts in total honesty. “It’s also time for us to go home.”

  “Home!” Something golden glowed within Honor. “House of the Sun. May it ever prove to be so for us.”

  “And when the shadows come?”

  She looked resolutely into his face. “We will know the sun is always there. Shadows pass, the sun returns.”

  “You darling!” The ardent look in his eyes stirred her. But he only said, “Wouldn’t you like to change into something else for the drive back? That mantilla must be heavy.”

  Honor thought for a moment. “I’ll take the mantilla off but leave my gown on. I won’t ever have another wed
ding day, so I want to look beautiful on this one.”

  He gently lifted the mantilla from her hair and handed it to Mama Rosa, voice sober. “Put it away, Mama. I’m taking Honor home.”

  “Vaya con Dios.” The beautiful Spanish blessing rested on them as Phillip helped her into the big touring car. She waved and smiled as they backed and turned.

  “What does it mean, Phillip? Something about God, I know that.”

  “Go with God.”

  “How fitting. Vaya con Dios,” she repeated the words then turned back to him. “Phillip, it will take all the days of our lives to learn what there is to know about each other.”

  The Willys swerved, righted itself, then slowly inched ahead. Honor vaguely noticed and wondered at a honking carload of people next to them, waiting for a wagon ahead to pass, but paid little attention to them. Phillip’s hands were white on the wheel. “Honor, there’s something I have to tell you, as soon as we get home—”

  His sentence was never finished. From the open Stutz next to them a wild whoop went up. Staring across at the other car, Honor was stunned. A tall dark-haired man was wildly waving—and he was an exact replica of Phillip!

  She opened her lips to speak then glanced at Phillip. He had gone a curious color, as if all the blood had drained from his face under the tan. His lips twisted. The pain in his face caught at her heart. Again she tried to speak, but nothing came from her frozen throat. Was Phillip that much afraid of his brother? It must be he in the other car, but why hadn’t Phillip told her they were twins?

  Her calculations, slowed by shock, were shattered when the other man called, his mocking voice clearly audible in the late fall air. “Well, Honor, James—what have you two been up to? And Honor in a white dress, even!”

  Honor reeled back against the seat. It was the same voice she had heard on the floor of El Tovar Hotel. There was no mistaking it—the man in that car was Phillip Travis! Arm about Babs, laughing with the others Honor knew from the canyon, he was in curious contrast to the man gripping the steering wheel of the car she was in—the man she had just promised to love, honor, and cherish for as long as she lived.