His Forbidden Bride (The Brides of Paradise Ranch (Spicy Version) Book 7) (4 page)

“As long as you don’t try to stop me, I’m fine with you knowing.”

“Stop you?” Bonnie laughed. “Honey, I’m encouraging you to run as fast as you can into Solomon Templesmith’s arms.”

Honoria’s brow flew up. “Even though he’s a negro?”

Bonnie scoffed and brushed the question away. “Trust me, sweetheart. In my line of work I’ve seen all men of all races. The only thing different about them is skin deep, and the color of that skin in no way determines how cruel or kind, how smart or stupid, how ambitious or how lazy they are.”

Honoria’s jaw dropped at the revolutionary statements.

Bonnie wasn’t done. “There are far worse men in this town who you could hook your fate to, and I think Solomon will make the…” Her voice faltered for a second, but she cleared her throat and went on in a gentler tone. “I think Solomon will make the last days of your life beautiful ones.”

“I hope so.” Honoria lowered her eyes. But no, that didn’t seem right. She raised them and met Bonnie’s boldly. “I know so. I’ve dreamed of being married to him for years.” It felt right and natural to confess to Bonnie. “He…he kissed me the other night, and it was glorious.”

Bonnie’s grin turned mischievous. “Glad to hear it. Are you planning to be fully married to him?”

Honoria nodded and blushed.

“Then let me give you a few words of advice.” She hooked her arm in Honoria’s and picked up the carpetbag for her. The two of them headed downstairs to the porch to wait for Solomon. In the time it took for him to arrive, Honoria learned far more than a few forbidden drawings could ever have taught her, and every bit of it filled her with delicious sensations of excitement and anticipation.

* * *

S
olomon wasn’t
sure if he should be grateful or suspicious that it was so easy to make it out to the Bonneville ranch undetected. He’d sat on the porch of The Cattleman Hotel, sipping coffee with Theophilus Gunn, who knew full well what was going on. Whether they were his to tell or not, it was impossible to keep a secret from Gunn. As soon as Rex Bonneville and his daughters had driven past on their way to the church, Solomon hopped down, strode around the corner, and climbed into his waiting wagon. He’d passed a few wagons of people dressed for a wedding on his way out, but no one bothered to stop and ask him what he was doing.

The only hint of uncertainty he felt was as he drove up the drive to the Bonneville house and saw that Honoria wasn’t alone on the porch. Bonnie Horner sat with her. He braced himself for the distinct possibility that Honoria had been talked out of her decision, or that she’d changed her mind on her own.

“Morning Miss Honoria, Miss Bonnie.” He touched the brim of his hat as he pulled his wagon parallel to the porch. He shifted across the bench, then hopped down as Honoria and Bonnie stood. He made eye-contact with Honoria, attempting to figure out if her mood had changed. “Are you ready?”

To his surprise, Honoria turned to Bonnie with a beaming smile of thanks. Bonnie stepped forward and hugged her, then escorted her down the stairs to where Solomon waited.

“You take care of her now,” Bonnie ordered him, dabbing at her eyes with her gloved hand. “Honoria is a very special woman.”

An explosion of relief and agreement spread through Solomon’s chest. “She is that.” He reached for Honoria’s hand.

Still smiling, looking paradoxically like the picture of health and happiness, Honoria took his offered hand and stepped closer. In spite of the fact that they were miles from the church, surrounded by nothing but empty ranchland, just the three of them, he felt the same pride and responsibility as if Honoria had been given to him at the altar.

“Oh, let me get Honoria’s things for you.” Bonnie turned and lifted her skirts to dash up the porch stairs.

Solomon shifted his focus to helping Honoria into his wagon. She seemed determined to climb up herself. Or perhaps she simply wasn’t used to being helped in any way. As he closed his hands around her waist and lifted, she gasped. Was it his imagination or did he feel a tremor of excitement zing from her to him?

“Comfortable?” he asked as soon as she was settled.

Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright with adventure. She nodded. He nodded in return. It was a wonderful thing to be able to communicate so much with someone without using a single word.

“Here you go.” Bonnie returned with a small carpetbag.

Solomon frowned. “Is that everything?” Knowing the Bonneville family, he expected her to bring along three trunks at least. Then again, knowing the Bonneville family, he could have expected much less.

“I couldn’t pack all of my dresses without arousing suspicion,” Honoria said as he took the bag from Bonnie and handed it back up to him. “Maybe there will be a way to send for them once…once the truth is known.”

Solomon shook his head, walking around the back of the wagon to climb up on his side. “I’ll buy you all new dresses,” he declared. “I’ve always thought that you deserved much finer fare than I’ve seen you walking around town in.”

“I don’t mind my clothes,” Honoria said, but there was a hint of hesitation, a dash of enthusiasm in her voice.

Solomon answered it by winking at her. The joy that spread across Honoria’s face was enough to make him feel like the tallest man in the world.

As he gathered up the leads to tap his horse into action, Honoria stopped him with an intake of breath. “Bonnie, would you like a ride to town?”

“You two lovebirds go along,” Bonnie replied with a teasing grin. “I have my own wagon to drive into town.”

“Thank you.” Honoria waved to her as Solomon waited until their exchange was finished before driving. “Thank you for your help.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Bonnie said, her mirth fading. “You might need much more of my help once your father finds out about this.”

The simple, truthful comment dampened all three of their moods. Solomon nodded to Bonnie, then urged his horse on. He and Honoria were both silent until they’d driven all the way off of the Bonneville property and onto the road heading into town.

“We can swing past my house first,” Solomon said at last. “That way you can drop off your bag and get a sense of what lies ahead.” Or change her mind if she wanted to.

She blinked at him. “You have a house?”

He couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “Of course I do. Where did you think I lived?”

“At the bank.”

He nodded in understanding. There was a small apartment in back of the bank. “That apartment belongs to my employee, Horace Greeley, now. I haven’t lived there for five years. Don’t you remember the commotion when I announced I was building a home on Schoolhouse Loop?”

She relaxed a little, the lines of her face softening as they fell into easy conversation. “I thought the fuss was that you were financing the building of several houses along a street that some people wanted to reserve for shops and businesses.”

Solomon laughed. “‘Some people’ being your father?”

“Well, yes.” She lowered her head to stare at her hands, folded on her lap. A moment later, she popped her head up. “You live in one of those houses?”

“I do.” He nodded. “The one at the end of the circle that turns into Station Street.”

A worried expression came over her. “That’s so near the church.”

Guessing her concerns, he said, “We’ll loop around the back way to avoid anyone from your family who might be lingering outside spotting us together too soon.”

She seemed satisfied with the answer, and he drove on, taking them exactly the way that would draw the least attention. On the one hand, it felt wrong, dishonest somehow, to be sneaking around with the woman he would be married to before the end of the day. On the other, he knew just what kind of opposition they could potentially run into if anyone so much as had a hint of what they had planned. He wasn’t about to risk ruining Honoria’s chance at a few months of happiness to soothe his own pride.

He was fortunate to have a side entrance to his property from the back, through an alley that ran between the saddler’s shop and one of the warehouses Howard had recently built for goods coming in on the train. As he’d hoped, no one saw him as he drove his wagon into the small but serviceable stable at the back of his property. He was quick to help Honoria down, then just as quick to unhitch his horse, letting it go in the fenced-in back yard.

“I wish I could present the house to you through the front door,” he said, taking her bag—which she’d industriously fetched for herself—and encouraging her to rest her hand in the crook of his other arm. “The architect did a magnificent job. It presents quite a picture from the front.”

“I’m certain it’s beautiful no matter how it’s approached.”

Solomon smiled. There was something so positive and bright about Honoria, in spite of the hardship she’d endured. It was as if she expected to be delighted with anything and everything that was not associated with her family.

Still, he felt self-conscious as he led her up the back porch and in through the kitchen door. The kitchen was spacious and equipped with as many modern conveniences as he could find out in the west. Howard had the foresight to design the town for the latest advances in modern plumbing—innovations that were usually only found in cities and prosperous towns back East—so Solomon’s house came complete with indoor running water and washroom facilities. His furniture was well-made, even if there wasn’t much of it. As he led Honoria from the kitchen to the dining room, then around to the front hall and stairs, her wide eyes took in everything. Solomon beamed with pride.

Right up until she said, “You don’t have much in the way of decoration, do you?”

His proud smile faded. He looked around with new eyes, with feminine eyes. “I haven’t gotten around to purchasing artwork,” he admitted.

“Or curtains?” she asked, breaking away from him long enough to cross the hall and touch the simple, raw muslin he had hanging in his front windows for privacy.

“Or curtains,” he admitted with a sheepish sigh.

She met that sigh with an encouraging smile, then walked past him and up the stairs to the second floor.

“Why, there’s only one room up here that’s furnished at all,” she exclaimed, nearly laughing as she did.

“Yes, well.” He followed her up, inviting her into his bedroom and setting her carpetbag on the bed. “I haven’t had the time to order a second bedroom suite for you, but in the meantime, I can sleep on the sofa downstairs.”

She blinked at him, the color draining from her face. “You mean, you don’t want to…” She cleared her throat, and as she did, a dangerously sweet rush of desire swirled up his spine. “That is, I assumed we would share a room, as married people do.”

Tender compassion, hope, and a far baser emotion that affected his body as strongly as his heart fired through him. “I thought perhaps you wouldn’t want that.”

“Oh, I do,” she answered so quickly that parts of him leapt for joy. She lowered her eyes, looking demure, and causing blood to surge even faster to inconvenient parts of him. “That is, I thought I had made clear that I wanted to experience a real marriage in the time I have left, not just a close friendship or…or an occasional taste of passion.” She lifted her eyes to meet his. “That involves both going to sleep together and waking up together, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak without sounding like a wolf on the prowl until he’d cleared his throat and swallowed. “It does.” He prayed he wouldn’t frighten her with the sudden intensity of his passion. Although, if he was honest with himself, it wasn’t sudden. Male as he was, he’d entertained far more fantasies of the ways the two of them could be together in the last few years than was strictly proper. To know that he would now be able to live those fantasies was more than his body and heart could take.

He had a tremendous responsibility to her. He didn’t want to let her down.

He knew he’d been silent too long, wondering how on earth he was going to perform as a husband to her without losing his head and frightening her—particularly considering how much bigger than her he was—when she bit her lip and took a hesitant step closer to him. He was almost tempted to step back in case she discovered just how much their conversation had aroused him.

“Solomon?” Her innocent, questioning tone and shy expression didn’t help to tamp down the passionate feelings coursing through him. “Would you…”

“Yes?” His voice cracked, so he cleared his throat.

“Would you let me decorate your house?”

His heart stopped for a beat as the unexpected question hit him. He blinked. Then he burst into laughter. “Of course I’ll let you decorate.”

In a flash, the amorous spell that had been cast over him was broken. “It’s well past time I had someone spruce this place up.”

“Good.” Honoria smiled. “I would like to accomplish something before I die.”

Her statement was like a discordant note played in the middle of a beautiful sonata. The ache that had formed in his groin blasted to his chest, constricting it and his throat. He hated it, that reminder that their time together would be short.

“Whatever you want, my dear,” he said as tenderly as he could. He stepped closer to her and took her hands, kissing each of them. His smile returned as he spotted his ring on her finger. “I will give you whatever you want.”