Desert Moon Read online

  “It’s my fault!” The first tears of the whole amazing day slipped from beneath her tightly closed lids. “If you have to shoot Jingles, it’s my fault.”

  He didn’t soften the blow. “Yes, it is. If you won’t listen to people who know more about ranching than you do, maybe you’d better just stay in the house. Casa del Sol is a beautiful place. It is also a dangerous place. There are wild animals. There are rattlesnakes in the rocks.”

  Honor shivered, feeling small. “I’m sorry.”

  He slid to his feet, still carrying her, leaving Sol with his reins dragging. “I’ll get you in the house and call the vet.”

  “Señora!” Even through her remorse and pain Honor caught the change in Rosa’s greeting. She was Señora now, mistress of Casa del Sol.

  “Mrs. Travis has had a bad fall. I’m taking her to her room, Mama Rosa. Bring liniment. Her shoulder is sprained.” For all the feeling in James’s voice she might have been of less importance than the barn, Honor thought fleetingly. Mama Rosa and Carlotta worked with swift fingers, undressing her, getting her shoulder bathed and dressed with a stinging liniment.

  “You will feel better tomorrow. What a way to start a honeymoon!” Carlotta grinned impishly before slipping out the big door, leaving it slightly ajar.

  Honeymoon! Honor tried to sit up and failed. She was just too tired to move, physically and emotionally. She threw herself back on the pillow, heedless of the pain in her shoulder. Had she ever lived through such a day? Her wedding day, the day she had dreamed of since she was a child, and especially since she met Phillip. What a travesty! Slow tears seeped into her puffy pillow. It might as well have been a rock. She could no longer put off facing what she had done.

  Through her pain and misery came Granny’s stern, sad voice, “I don’t know what it’s going to take to make you see you can’t outrun God. When you do, if you are married to an unbeliever, your life will be misery.”

  A final spurt of rebelliousness brought a protest to her lips, but it died before she could even whisper. No. She couldn’t blame God any longer. She had insisted on idolizing Phillip Travis even against her own nagging doubts and the repeated warnings she had been given.

  The dimly lit room receded to be replaced first by the scene at the canyon then later here at Casa del Sol—that momentary, on-the-brink warning. It was not the chill evening breeze from her partly opened window that turned Honor cold. It was memory of her response to God’s pleadings—and she knew they had been just that. Instead of listening to the scriptures that had been planted in her brain, she had been swayed by the beauty of the canyon, the thrill of Phillip’s attention, the false assurance that all would be well.

  Tossing from one side of the great bed to the other, she faced it head-on. God had not done this to her. She had brought it on herself because she refused to listen to God’s call. A new, sharper thrust filled her heart. She struggled to pray, to ask forgiveness, help, peace. “My spirit will not always strive with men.” She remembered the words from Genesis. Why did her prayers only ascend to the ceiling? Was she repenting more for the way things had turned out than for being a sinner? Was she really better off married to a man who obviously despised her than to Phillip? And was what she thought love for James really only clutching for security, strength, someone to stand between her and a world grown harsh?

  Her weary brain refused to answer. James must have dropped a sleeping powder in the warm milk he had brought. Even if she could find God and be forgiven for a life of rebellion, she would still have the consequences of her mutiny—either a broken marriage relationship or an unbelieving husband.

  Chapter 7

  James Travis kept his promise. In the month following their wedding, Honor saw little of him. Evidently he had meant just what he said. There was no time for leisure. He had a huge ranch to run and did just that.

  Honor found she was a special guest as James had promised, nothing more. When he was in for meals, he was quietly courteous, asking if she was enjoying learning to know the ranch. Most of the time he was gone.

  Once she curiously asked, “Do you stay in what Mama Rosa calls ‘line shacks’ when you are out on the range?”

  His smile was sardonic, leaving her feeling she had blundered again. “Sometimes. I can’t very well stay in the bunkhouse when the hands think this is still our honeymoon.”

  His thrust had gone home and silenced her.

  To Honor, who had been busy all her life, that month was dreamlike. At first it was enough just to rest and sort things out. Yet that very sorting out left her more confused and miserable than ever. It had been as she feared. God’s forgiveness would not extend to making everything rosy between James and her. Would they ever be anything except courteous strangers? Neither did she feel God had forgiven her.

  She grew thin, worried. In spite of the time she spent with Rosa learning to prepare the spicy Mexican dishes, there wasn’t enough to keep her busy. James had forbidden her to ride alone. Sometimes in the evening he took her out, always a stern shadow, an impeccable escort, and as remote as Kendrick Peak.

  James unexpectedly appeared at lunch one day. “Would you like to take a drive this afternoon?”

  She hid her surprise. “Why, yes. Can you spare the time?” She hadn’t meant to sound sarcastic, but it came out that way.

  James’s expression changed. “I believe it can be arranged.”

  Nothing more was said until they were seated in the Willys. Honor nervously adjusted a veil. The snowline on the mountains was steadily encroaching upon the valley. No wonder! It was definitely fall. Every leaf flaunted red or gold winter dress in a King Midas world.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Do you have to ask a question as if I were still an ogre?” James sounded irritated.

  “Aren’t you?” Instantly repentant, she laid one gloved hand over his strong one on the wheel, her most unself-conscious gesture since their marriage.

  “Don’t touch me while I’m driving!”

  She snatched her hand back as if it had been burned, more hurt than she would admit even to herself, and made herself small against the door on the passenger side, turning her back on James so he could not read her expression.

  “We’re going to see an old friend of mine. His name is Judge Bell. I call him Daddy, and have since my own father died.”

  Something in his voice reached even through Honor’s misery. “You really care about him, don’t you?”

  “I love him and his wife. They’re real people.”

  Honor sneaked a glance at the forbidding face behind the wheel. A ghost of a smile had replaced some of the irritation.

  “Judge Bell grew up knowing he was going to be a minister. When he got in his teens he was mixed up in some kind of unpleasantness—he’s never said what. He was innocent, but since his comrades were guilty, it looked as if he would be sentenced along with them. The judge in the case was known to be harsh. He was always fair, but the boys knew there was little hope.

  “Evidently the judge listened and was impressed by the boy’s sincerity. He dismissed the charges against Daddy. Daddy was so impressed he prayed about it, he said, and decided he could do as much good as a Christian judge as if he became a minister. He did. He spent over fifty years as a judge before he retired. Now his heart isn’t strong enough for the grueling hours required in his former work.”

  “What does he do now?”

  James laughed. “If you have a picture in your mind of a broken-down man, you’re in for a shock. He ministers. He gives love and comfort to the poor, the dying, even to—” He broke off suddenly, giving her a piercing glance that brought red to her face.

  “And you think he can bring comfort to me?”

  “I hope so.” James swung the big touring car into a small lane. “Honor, I want to talk to you.”

  Why should his simple statement send shudders up her spine?

  “I know you aren’t happy. I can’t expect you to be, I suppose. Daddy said I did a t
errible thing, marrying you as I did.”

  “He knows?”

  “Of course.” James’s mouth twisted. “I rode over the night after we were married and told him.” Bitterness filled his face. “So you don’t have to play any games with him. He can see right through you.”

  I hope not.

  Had she spoken the words aloud?

  No. James went on uninterrupted. “You’ll like him and his wife. They live what they believe.” He shot her another quick glance. “By the way, what does that God you believe in—or do you?—think about our marriage?”

  She chose to answer his first question first. “Yes, I believe in God. I always have. I just never did anything about it—until now.” Her voice trailed off.

  “Are you a Christian?”

  “No.” She swallowed a lump in her throat, feeling constricted almost to the point of being unable to breathe. “But I want to be, James, I want to be!” Forgetting the estrangement between them, she turned to face him directly. “From the time I was small I blamed God for everything that went wrong. Granny tried to tell me everyone who lives on earth is subject to natural consequences, but I wouldn’t listen.” Her troubled face reflected her struggles. “I’m afraid I waited and rebelled too long.”

  “Ridiculous! What have you ever done that was so terrible? You haven’t killed or anything like that. You have lived a good life.”

  Honor shook her head. “I’ve sinned most of all by refusing to listen to the Holy Spirit sent to show me what God wants—and by turning my back on the gift of eternal life and salvation through acceptance of God’s only Son.” She turned away, eyes desolate.

  James cleared his throat. “I can’t help you with that, but Judge Bell can.” He changed the subject. “You didn’t tell me what your God thought of our marriage.” His lips curved downward. “You think God punished you for not accepting Him by letting you marry an ogre?”

  “I can’t blame God for what I insisted on.” Her lips quivered.

  With a muttered imprecation James started the car and drove in silence to a small white cottage with a picket fence, leaving Honor to stare at the blurring countryside they passed.

  If ever there was a case of love at first sight it was between Honor and the Bells. “Why, you remind me of my father!” Honor’s spontaneous remark was met with warmth like flames of an open fire.

  “Come in, come in, children.” Motherly Mrs. Bell and the equally welcoming judge threw wide the door, but after only a few moments the judge said, “Run along, James. I’ll be wanting to talk with your lassie alone.”

  “Well!” Mrs. Bell’s crinkling eyes belied her pretended hurt. “We’ve been dismissed, James, my boy. We’ll go out and get our doughnuts ready for when they’ve finished.”

  After they left, Honor waited for Judge Bell to speak. When he did it was to ask her to call him Daddy.

  “You know what happened?” She couldn’t hide her trembling fingers.

  “Aye. But I wonder if you do?”

  It was the last thing Honor had expected. “Wh–what do you mean?”

  “Did the laddie tell you why?”

  A shake of the head was all she could manage.

  “I thought not.” The soft burr in Daddy Bell’s Scottish voice soothed her as nothing had done for weeks. She leaned forward.

  “Did—did he tell you why?”

  “He told me more than he realized. After you had mistaken him for Phillip and went upstairs he paced his library for hours. He ran the gamut of emotions from wanting to horsewhip Phillip to wishing he had never been born twin to such a philanderer.

  “He had tried to send you away. He had tried to warn you what Phillip was and you refused to believe. If he’d told you he was Phillip’s brother, you would have had more reason to distrust him.”

  Honor flushed, remembering how she had referred to the absent brother as the ogre.

  “Early in life James and Phillip’s father had given James charge over his brother, a brother’s-keeper responsibility. When Phillip refused direction, James became bitter. When you appeared, it was the last bit of evidence of Phillip’s nature to convict him.

  “James could see you would never break your vow. He decided to marry you. It had taken an entire night to decide, and he could no longer stand the confines of the library. He saddled Sol, rode here, and caught me just as I was coming in from a call. He—”

  Honor could stand no more. Her eyes flew open. “He told you what he was going to do?”

  “Of course not. Much as I love the laddie, he knew I’d not stand by for such a thing.”

  The crisp tone brought a wave of color to Honor’s face. “I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s all been such a shock.”

  “I understand. Lassie”—Daddy Bell’s eyes were kind—“did you not know down in your heart Phillip Travis was no man for you?”

  It was the final touch. Honor put her face in her hands. “I knew. God even tried to warn me.”

  A light came to the old man’s eyes. “You are a follower?”

  “Any following I’ve done is after my own way.”

  “And now you’re sorry.”

  “With all my heart.” Honor slipped to the hand-braided rug at his feet. “Not just for choosing Phillip over God, but for everything. For not listening to Granny and my brother and…” Her voice dropped until it was barely audible. “…and the Holy Spirit.”

  She heard grave concern in his voice as he asked, “Lassie, did you not know the Spirit’s calling?”

  “That’s what is so terrible. I deliberately chose Phillip Travis over God!” She scarcely heard his quick intake of breath. “Now when I try to pray, it’s as if God has turned His back on me—just as I did on Him.”

  “Look at me.”

  There was something magnificent in Daddy Bell’s voice reminiscent of days when he tempered justice with mercy. Honor fixed her gaze on his face.

  “Do you recognize now how much of a sinner you are? Do you freely acknowledge it and believe Jesus died to save you from those sins? Do you accept Him into your heart and life forever?”

  “Yes!”

  The soft cry in the still room seemed magnified in Honor’s ears. Daddy Bell’s admonition, “Tell Him so,” brought a rush of feeling as Honor stammered, “I’m a sinner, God. Forgive me. I accept the gift of Your Son and salvation through Him.” She could not go on. The month of sleepless nights had taken its toll, but the next instant she felt weariness leave. In its place was peace—not the false assurance that she could work things out, but the knowledge that no matter what came, God was there to strengthen her. Along with the peace was knowledge—she was free, forgiven. But it did not mean every trouble was over. She was just what Granny had said she would be: wedded to one who scorned the Christ, or at best ignored Him, just as she had done.

  Another memory found its way to her lips. “I said, when Granny warned me, that if God ever caught up to me, there was no reason He couldn’t catch Phillip, too.” Her regret struck deep. “How blind, willful, sinful I was!”

  Daddy Bell’s hands were warm on her own. “It’s over, lassie. I won’t try and excuse you in any way for what you have done. You must live with it. Neither will I excuse James.” His shrewd eyes searched her. “I will say I doubt the laddie married you entirely to save you from Phillip.”

  “He despises me as a weakling.” Honor couldn’t hold back tears. “How can you say he might care?”

  “It has been my business to know men.”

  Daddy Bell’s words echoed in Honor’s mind as James and Mrs. Bell came in, to be told the news of Honor’s acceptance of Christ. Mrs. Bell appeared delighted. James did not. On the way home he spoke of it. “I suppose now you’re a Christian you’ll be even more bitter about me.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply but quickly added, “What does God say about Christian wives with husbands like me?”

  She sought sarcasm and found none. Was he serious? She would respond as if he was. “In 1 Corinthians 7:14 it says, ‘Fo
r the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and—’”

  “The Bible doesn’t say that!” James shot her a glance that was totally unreadable.

  “See for yourself. It’s right there.”

  “If I had a Bible, I might just do that.”

  Honor rode quietly all the way home. When they reached the sprawling hacienda she climbed from the car without waiting for his assistance, only saying, “Thank you for taking me.” She dashed upstairs, threw open the big trunk she had brought from San Francisco, and delved clear to the bottom. For a moment she held close the precious Book she unearthed. She would need it now more than ever. As a child of God she must study.

  With a sigh she touched the worn cover regretfully then lifted her chin. Daddy Bell would get her another Bible. In the meantime…

  James looked shocked when she appeared, out of breath, at the bottom of the stairs. “What on earth—”

  “Here.” She steadied her voice, forcing casualness into it she did not feel. “I have been wondering what to give you…whether to give you this.” She held it out.

  “A Bible?”

  The trancelike state he seemed to have gone into released a spirit she hadn’t known existed. “It’s perfectly proper to accept, Mr. Travis. Even if we weren’t married, a Bible is always considered an acceptable gift.”

  She retreated up two steps, away from the disturbing dark eyes. “Don’t forget to read it—especially 1 Corinthians.” Her sense of mischief faded. “And John, especially verse 3:16.” She could not go on so blindly ran upstairs, remembering how he stood staring at her. She gently closed her door and dropped to her knees by the side of the bed. How easy it was to tell someone else to read the best-known of all verses, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” But how hard it had been to accept it!

  Tears drenched the beautiful spread. If only she had accepted that verse and invited Jesus into her heart, asking for forgiveness for her sins long ago when Keith did, how different things would be now! She would not be in love with a husband who cared nothing for her and even less for the Lord she had suddenly discovered was more precious to her than anything else on earth.