A Texas Promise

by Laura Conner Kestner

Jasper’s voice took on an edge. “Promises of what?”

  “That you’ll quit this race, and that you’ll never run for public office again.”

  Jasper’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you realize who you’re trying to intimidate, boys. Don’t you understand I could have you eliminated in a heartbeat? Nobody would ever suspect a thing. I have some very powerful friends.”

  “We understand that fully,” Eli said. “That’s why we made arrangements—with some powerful friends of our own—before we spoke to you. If anything happens to us, a world of hurt is going to come crashing down on you.”

  Although Eli had dashed off a letter and arranged for its delivery to Caleb if anything should happen to them, he was making everything sound more threatening than it was. He had to stop Jasper Slidell from running for office. Otherwise, Eli wasn’t sure what he would do.

  Jasper’s lips curled into a sneer. “There’ll always be people like me. You can’t stop them all.”

  “Then I guess I’ll have to settle for stopping you,” Eli said softly.

  Throwing down his cigar, the man ground it under his heel, never breaking eye-contact with Eli.

  The message was clear. He could do the same thing to the Calhoun boys any time he wanted.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maggie didn’t have much time to brood or worry over her conversation with Caleb Calhoun.

  After he left, Brody Flynn knocked on the back door. He’d been by several times since their first conversation, a little more relaxed with each visit.

  The boy still seemed intrigued by the baby, and still reluctant to get closer.

  This time, as soon as he sat down Maggie thrust Lucinda into his arms, giving him no chance to refuse.

  “Do you mind holding her?” Maggie said. “I need to get the wash in off the line. She’ll need fresh bedding and diapers soon.”

  The look of fear on Brody’s face was almost comical. “I might drop her,” he said.

  Maggie shook her head. “You’ll do no such thing. Keep her in the crook of your arm, and don’t let her head bob around.”

  Since Maggie had recently been on the receiving end of the same instructions, it felt good to be the one passing them along.

  Brody still seemed hesitant, so she played her best card. “Sheriff Calhoun held her.”

  “Really?”

  Knowing that his hero had done something made him at least willing to try. The boy settled back in the chair, cradling the baby with such a look of trepidation that Maggie couldn’t hide her smile.

  “Thank you for your help, Brody.” She pointed to a plate on the table. “And for helping me, you can take that whole batch of cookies with you.”

  He was smiling when she left.

  It took only a few minutes to gather the laundry and put everything in the basket. As Maggie made her way up the back steps, she was startled to see someone brush past her and into the kitchen. The little girl next door. And following her was the puppy.

  “Hello. You’re Ruthie, right?”

  The girl nodded. Clutching a rag doll in one arm, her dark brown eyes surveyed the room in wide-eyed appraisal. Her gaze lingered on Brody and the baby, and then narrowed in on the cookies. The dog, a mutt of some sort, was sniffing around the room, tail wagging.

  “What’s your puppy’s name?” Maggie asked.

  The girl smiled. “Ollie.”

  “Ollie is a beautiful dog.”

  Brody looked at the little girl and then at Maggie, while the girl looked at the baby. Catching Brody’s eye, Maggie shrugged.

  “I’m going to put these things away,” Maggie told Brody. “Won’t be gone but a minute. You okay to hold Lucinda a little longer?”

  “Sure,” Brody said, with a certain amount of swagger now.

  Maggie figured it would be an altogether different story if the baby began to cry. Smiling she hurried from the room, and glanced down to see Ruthie tagging along beside her.

  In the bedroom, the girl watched silently as Maggie removed the clothes from the basket, folded a few items, and placed them in the wardrobe. She added others to a stack to iron later. Maggie tried several times to get a conversation going, but the girl spoke mostly in monosyllabic replies.

  At one point Maggie thought Ruthie left, then realized she’d moved to the other side of the bed, and was now looking at everything on top of the dresser. Then she bent down and stared at the rug.

  Curious child.

  As they were leaving the room, Ruthie pointed to Maggie’s crocheted slippers.

  “What’s those?”

  “These are my shoes,” Maggie told her. “At least for now. I don’t have my real shoes with me.”

  The girl followed Maggie back to the kitchen. Again, her gaze lingered on the cookies. Maggie’s heart warmed when Brody reached out and snagged a couple and handed them to her.

  Ruthie was staring at him with an expression of awe when a worried voice sounded from next door. “Ruthie? Where are you?”

  With treat in hand, and the dog on her heels, the girl disappeared as suddenly as she’d arrived.

  After Brody finished off several cookies, he left, too, saying he was making deliveries for Silas Martin that afternoon. As she’d promised, Maggie wrapped up the remaining cookies in a napkin for him to take.

  Maggie fed the baby and put her down for a nap, and then sat down at the table to peel potatoes. A soft tap at the back door had her on her feet again, wiping her hands on her apron. Maggie cracked the door open. It was the little girl again, holding a pair of beautiful, beaded moccasins. She handed them to Maggie.

  “What are these for?”

  Ruthy pointed to Maggie’s feet. “My mother said to give them to you.”

  Truly delighted, Maggie thanked the girl, who nodded and promptly disappeared again.

  Maggie was still standing there marveling over a stranger’s kindness, when Peg entered the kitchen. She was followed by a young woman carrying a couple of brown paper packages.

  “Maggie, this is Abigail Calhoun, Caleb’s wife and Eli and Nathaniel’s new sister-in-law,” Peg said, then seemed at a loss as how to finish the introduction.

  Placing the moccasins on a chair, Maggie smiled. “My name is Maggie. I’m a guest of Peg’s. It’s nice to meet you, Abigail.”

  Blue eyes sparkling, the other woman smiled. “Please, call me Abby.” Setting the packages down on the clean side of the table, she tugged off her gorgeous fur-trimmed, sateen lined coat, and then her suede gloves—a soft cranberry color—and placed them in the coat pockets, before laying it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. She was chattering away the whole time.

  Maggie wasn’t quite sure what to think of the woman. Although she was expensively clad, she was completely at ease among the kitchen clutter. Peg seemed to be well-acquainted with the young woman. But Maggie wasn’t comfortable, and apparently it showed.

  “Please don’t be concerned,” Abby said. “Caleb told me about your current situation.”

  Maggie was relieved, but also curious. Exactly what had Caleb said?

  Thankfully, Maggie hadn’t told him everything. What would a Texas Ranger do if he knew she was responsible for a man’s death? Maggie had asked God for forgiveness, but she couldn’t speak of it to anyone else. She might be put away somewhere worse than the asylum.

  “Please, sit a spell,” Peg said to their guest. “Would you like a cup of tea? Or coffee?”

  “Nothing for me,” Abby said. “I won’t be long. I wanted to drop off a few things for Maggie. Caleb said that it’s not safe for her to return home at the moment.”

  Abby then opened the larger package and took out several dresses. “I hope you’re not offended,” she said to Maggie. “They’re not new, but they haven’t been worn much. And I think they’ll fit you.”

  “I’m not offended at all,” Maggie said, taking one of the lovely garments and holding it in front of her. “I’m grateful.” Another person who didn’t know her had stepped up to he
lp.

  Peg left the room, saying she had things to tend to, and Maggie sat down across the table from Abby.

  Handing Maggie the smaller package, Abby said, “These, however, are new.” Maggie opened it to discover a hairbrush, comb, toothbrush, tooth cleaning powder, hair pins, and a bar of scented soap. Things that she’d taken for granted her entire life, and never would again. She had adjusted to a lot, but not to using a rag to clean her teeth.

  Maggie stared at the other woman in astonishment. “How thoughtful of you. I will pay you for these as soon as I’m able.”

  Abby waved a hand. “Please, don’t worry about it. I stopped by the mercantile and tried to think of what I would need if I’d had to leave home with nothing.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Maggie said. Beyond that, she really didn’t want to say much else. She hated to lie to this woman, and yet if they talked for very long, she would have to. Abby’s cheerful, easy manner soon won her over.

  Maggie poured tea for the two of them, while Abby talked. Maggie learned a little more about the Calhoun brothers, including the fact that Eli was building a house on some land just outside of town, near the Brazos River, and that Caleb had purchased land there also. Abby’s face lit up as she talked about her recent trip to New York and about her happiness at being home again.

  At one point Abby leaned forward. “I’m expecting a baby in the spring.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful,” Maggie said. Moments later, when Lucinda’s cries sounded from the bedroom, Maggie invited Abby to see the baby.

  Abby jumped at the chance, and as she held Lucinda and fed her, it was obvious she was already more comfortable with the baby than Maggie had been. “I was eleven when my little brother was born,” Abby explained.

  Maggie enjoyed their time together so much that her guilt continued to grow. When all this was resolved she would come back to find all the Calhouns, and apologize in person.

  After Abby left, reluctantly placing a sleeping Lucinda in the box, Maggie returned to her cooking, fixing a pot of potato soup and cornbread.

  By the time Peg led a young red-haired man into the kitchen, Maggie was actually beginning to tire. But the minute he introduced himself, she rallied.

  “Ma’am, my name is Wilkie Brown. I’m the pastor of the Moccasin Rock Church.”

  “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you,” Maggie said.

  Peg excused herself so that the two of them could talk.

  “Sheriff Calhoun mentioned to me that you were a guest of Mrs. Harmon’s,” Wilkie said, “and due to circumstances not of your own making, you can’t attend church for the time being.”

  Maggie was touched by Eli’s thoughtfulness. “Yes, unfortunately, that’s true. And I miss it so much.”

  Waiting until she was seated, the man lowered himself onto one of the chairs. “I was wondering if you might like me to pray with you. Or perhaps a scripture reading? The sheriff thought it might bring you comfort.”

  “Both would be wonderful.”

  What followed was the most peaceful hour that Maggie had spent since she’d been taken from her home. The preacher read from the twenty-third Psalm and then several other passages, some of her choosing, and some of his, before bowing his head and praying with her, and for her.

  Later that evening, Eli dropped by, knocking softly on the back door.

  Peg had gone to bed early, and the baby was asleep, but Maggie was awake and working in the kitchen.

  “I saw the light back here,” Eli said. “Wanted to drop this off.” He reached down for something on the porch. A cradle.

  “Oh my, where did you find that?” Maggie said as he brought it inside.

  “I made it.”

  She stared at him in surprise. “It’s beautiful. I’m so grateful.”

  He nodded and moved to the stove, hands outstretched to warm them up. “How are y’all getting along?”

  Maggie knelt beside the cradle, running a hand along the side, then touching it gently to start it rocking. “It was a day filled with visitors and surprises.”

  Concern flashed across his face.

  “All good,” she said. “Thank you for sending your pastor to talk to me. It meant a great deal.”

  “Oh.” Eli looked at his boots, then at the stove, and then past her, before looking at her. “I’m new to the church-going thing,” he admitted, “but I figured it might be important for someone who was used to it.”

  Curious, she stared at him. “How did you know I was missing church?”

  “I didn’t really, but I’ve seen you praying a couple of times.”

  The man was even more observant than she’d first thought. She found that comforting and concerning at the same time.

  “I know about two of your visitors,” Eli said. “Thank you for talking to Caleb.”

  “Did he tell you about Lucinda’s grandparents?”

  “Yes.”

  Despair hit Maggie anew. “Eli, I’m begging you, please think long and hard before you contact them. They’re not good people.”

  He seemed to give her plea thoughtful consideration, but made no promises. “I’ll let you know what I decide. Who else did you see?”

  She told him about Abby, Ruthie and Brody.

  “I’m not surprised about Abby,” Eli said. “She’s a sweet girl and comes from a good family. Haven’t met Ruthie yet, but I’ve met her Pa. Seems like a nice fellow.”

  “Tell me about Brody,” Maggie said.

  “He’s a great kid. His family lives way back in the woods; and from what I understand, they rarely venture into town.”

  “What are his parents like?”

  Eli shrugged, turning around in front of the stove. “Brody’s hinted from time-to-time that his folks aren’t much on visitors so I’ve tried to stay away. I’m planning on going out to see them soon, though.”

  “So you’ve never met them?”

  “I’ve sent messages with Brody but apparently they’re real skittish. Might have some sort of secret they’re hiding, I guess. People like their privacy. Brody’s a good boy, even has good manners. That tells me a lot about his folks. He’s being raised right.”

  The baby started fussing before Maggie could question him further, and Eli left. But Brody and the Flynn family stayed on her mind long after the baby was quiet.

  Maggie was still wide awake when Lucinda began crying again from her new bed. The sound didn’t bring the fear it once did. “Well, hello there sweet baby,” she crooned. “Let’s see how fast Mama can get you dry and fed.”

  Maggie stopped and then smiled. It was the first time she’d referred to herself as “Mama.” It felt right.

  In the kitchen, with the lamp light creating shadows on the wall, and the wood in the stove crackling, Maggie settled down in a chair and cuddled the baby close. Her eyes had begun to droop when a noise sent a prickle of unease through her.

  It was the creaking of wood, such as footsteps on a floor, but it hadn’t come from the direction of the hall. It was coming from the back porch.

  Maybe it was Eli. It wouldn’t surprise her to find that the sheriff checked on them during the night, yet this felt different.

  Reaching out with a trembling hand, she doused the lantern. Darkness descended on the room, except for the light from the stove.

  Grateful that the baby was now sleeping and soundless in her arms, Maggie stood and crept toward the window.

  Lifting the curtain a bit with one finger, she peered out into the darkness. She couldn’t see a thing.

  Then she heard it. Another furtive movement. The barest whisper of sound. Then came the unmistakable ping of someone bumping into the wash tub.

  “Who is it?” she called, heart pounding.

  Seconds passed, each feeling like an eternity, before Ruthie’s dog began barking, startling Maggie and waking the baby.

  “Shhh,” she whispered to the startled baby. “It was only a dog we heard.”

  Then a thought occurred. What
had the dog been barking at?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I’m going stir-crazy, Eli. I’ve been cooped up here for two weeks. I’ve cleaned every inch of Peg’s house. The poor baby has been cleaned as thoroughly and as often, and she’s tired of hearing me sing lullabies. Peg has her now. Can’t I please go for a walk? I promise I’ll be careful.”

  Despite her fright of several nights ago, Maggie had convinced herself that it was definitely the puppy that had bumped into the washtub. She’d simply worked herself into a case of nervous hysteria because of her dread of Hollis Anderson.

  Eli didn’t say anything, and Maggie had almost given up hope when he said, “How would you like to go fishing?”

  “I would love it…I think.”

  “Have you never caught a fish?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  “Time you did. Put on those men’s clothes again and we’ll go. Not only will you get some fresh air, but if the fish are biting we’ll have a good lunch.”

  Maggie would much rather have worn a dress, but she readily donned the trousers and shirt and hurried to where Eli waited in the kitchen.

  He smiled when he saw her, then shook his head a little. Leaving by the back door, he led her directly into the woods where they were swallowed up by thickets and brush.

  For a moment, Maggie’s thoughts flashed back to her terrifying flight from the asylum and her breath caught in her throat. But she reminded herself that no one was chasing her this time.

  In fact, Eli was patiently holding back limbs and branches so that she could pass through easily. She took a couple of deep breaths and pushed the bad memories from her mind.

  “There are people set up in tents in that direction,” Eli said, “so we need to go this way.”

  Maggie nodded, not really noticing which way he pointed, her attention captured by a chattering squirrel that jumped from one tree-top to the next. She smiled. Obviously the critter wasn’t pleased to have company.

  After they’d been walking awhile, Eli pointed off to the west. “I’m building a house about a half mile down that way,” he said.

  Curious, Maggie hoped he would suggest stopping by there, but he pressed on. Apparently he was more excited about fishing than she was. Standing on the banks of the Brazos River a little later, Maggie still didn’t know if she’d enjoy fishing, but she could say that she loved being outside.