Promises Linger (Promise Series)

by Sarah McCarty

  “It never occurred to me that you’ve been waiting for me to sock you one,” he continued. “Heck, no wonder you were so interested in my stepping between the blacksmith and that little boy.”

  She took immediate offense. He made it sound like she was some beaten cur, crawling with its tail tucked between its legs. “I haven’t been waiting.”

  “It hadn’t occurred to me,” he went on, ignoring the interruption, “because I don’t hit women, I don’t kick dogs, and I don’t beat on little kids.”

  Did he think she was going to swallow that line of bull? “Everyone gets mad.”

  “Yes. They do. When I get mad, I yell.” He winced. “A lot. When I get so mad I think I’m going to lose it, I slam doors and storm out of the house. I don’t take out my bad humor on things littler than me.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You apologizing because my heart’s beating fast and my muscles are tightening up, or because you believe you’ve been insulting me regularly for the last day or so?”

  She ducked his gaze, not wanting him to read the truth in hers. “Both.”

  “How about we make a deal?”

  “What?”

  “Bring your gaze back up here, darlin’.”

  She figured if she didn’t, he’d be pushing it up with his finger. That and the fact that she didn’t want him thinking she was a coward were the only reasons she met his serious gaze with hers.

  “How about we put aside the thought that we’re married and you let me court you with all the courting rules in place?”

  “What’s the point in that?”

  “The point is that I don’t like having to walk on egg shells, and I don’t imagine you do either. It means that I like the way we worked together in the barn a whole lot more. I’d like to have more of those moments rather than those stiff formal ones I keep running up against. The only way you’re going to be comfortable with me is to get to know me without feeling pressured.”

  “Courting couples don’t share a bed.”

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “But men want,” she paused, decided this wasn’t the time for modesty, and plunged on through her inhibitions. “You’ll want to share a bed.”

  He shook his head as if she were dimwitted. “I’m not saying I won’t want to spark, but I got to be honest, darlin’. The next time we go to bed, I’d like to feel I’m making love to my wife and not forcing her.”

  What game was he up to now? His eyes were a mellow gray. His chest relaxed against hers. There was no sign this was a trick, but she knew it had to be. If Asa weren’t so much a man, she’d have started thinking he was one of those sissies in the dime novel she’d read once. She’d stopped believing that nonsense the day her father had caught her in the hayloft reading one. He’d spent the next month showing her the way of the real world. She’d come to understand quickly the only use a real man had for soft womanly emotions was to use them as a weapon against a woman. Like Brent had used them against her.

  “Courting me isn’t necessary,” she told Asa. “You didn’t force me and it’s ludicrous to feel like you did.”

  His head was shaking before she got to the last syllable. “It doesn’t set well with me. I don’t want to be telling my son that I all but raped his mother.”

  “You didn’t rape me!” He wasn’t going to lay that guilt on her.

  “I know you gave permission, but it still isn’t a night I’m building fond memories on.”

  “I did my best. If you’d told me what you wanted…”

  “I’m not placing blame.” He put his fingers over her lips, halting her instant retort. “You did what you had to do to save the ranch. I did what I had to do to keep the ranch. We did what was necessary to seal a business deal. But we didn’t begin a marriage.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes. You do.”

  “Mr. MacIntyre…”

  “Asa.”

  She took a breath and counted to ten. She had to talk him out of this lunacy. “Mr. MacIntyre, I fail to see what’s wrong with what we have now. It’s a clear-cut business arrangement based on mutual understanding. You know where you stand and I know where I stand. That we enjoy each other occasionally is an unexpected plus.”

  “There you go again, getting all formal on me. It was good between us in the barn. And I’m not talking about grooming Shameless, but the minute it was over, you started making me out to be a stranger.”

  “I don’t think of you as a stranger.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you. I’m ordering you to think on some courting rules. I want you to think on what you need to be comfortable, and then I want you to pass that on to me.”

  “You want me to direct the course of our…courtship?” Why hadn’t any of the rumors that preceded the man indicated he was loonier than a bed bug?

  “Yup.”

  “What if you don’t like what I’ve decided?”

  He flashed her a grin. “Then, like every young buck who’s ever come a courtin’, I’ll do my best to change your mind.”

  “You’re serious.” My God, she couldn’t believe it!

  “Yup.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re married. To me, that’s a once in a lifetime thing. I’ve seen other couples who’ve made a marriage work. Seems the one thing they have in common is they’re comfortable with each other. We got the cart before the horse here, but it’s fixable.”

  “So your plan is to fix it by courting me?”

  “Yup.”

  “According to my rules?”

  “You got a better plan?”

  “No.” But she wasn’t sure she liked this one. There were too many risks. All on her side.

  “Then I say we go with mine.”

  “How much time do I have?”

  “For what?”

  “To come up with a plan.”

  “Do you think you’ll be needing more than a day or two?”

  There had to be a way his offer could work for her. If she thought on it hard enough, she’d come up with a plan of her own. “I think two days would be sufficient.”

  “Good.” He took a step back. For the first time since he’d touched her, she felt like she could breathe. “I’m going to change clothes.”

  “I’ll finish the biscuits,” she told him as he stretched. His shirt caved in over his stomach. She decided to make up another batch. The man was still awfully lean.

  He brought his arms down. “After supper, I’d like to take a look at your records.”

  “They’re in the study.” She watched as he strolled to the door. The depth of his tiredness showed in the set of his shoulders. “Would you like some salad greens with supper? I think there are still some in the garden.”

  “That’d be fine.”

  She watched as he left the room. A slight limp indicated his discomfort. Whether she’d really burned him or if it was the fact that the wet denim clung uncomfortably, she wasn’t sure. She felt guilty either way.

  She turned her attention to supper. She had some buttermilk left from this morning. She’d make a special dressing for the salad. Buttermilk was supposed to be very nourishing.

  Wiping her hands nervously on her apron, she went back to the biscuits, her mind in turmoil. She only had two days to figure out how to handle this. She couldn’t lose anymore ground. She couldn’t.

  * * * * *

  Two days later, Asa sat in the study, going over the books for the hundredth time, but the facts didn’t change. The ranch was on the edge of bankruptcy, that much was clear. What was a surprise was that someone had clearly had a hand in putting it on the edge. Every time a bank note came due, there’d been a disaster with the cattle. A well had been poisoned. Rustlers had struck. Cattle had been driven off. Hands couldn’t be hired. It had been going on for the last year, not just the last few months. Someone wanted the Rocking C to go under. If he wanted to pull the place out of bankruptcy, he was going to have to smo
ke out the sneaky, yellow-bellied S.O.B and show him the error of his ways. He was in the process of making a list of suspects when the knock came at the door.

  He closed the account books and pinched the bridge of his nose. No doubt it was Elizabeth coming to deliver her rules. While most women would be thrilled he’d given them time, Elizabeth was appalled. It was hard to miss. The last couple of days, she’d been as skittish as a newborn deer. If he had a penny for every I-don’t-understand-you glance she’d sent his way, the Rocking C would be solvent. Every courtesy he’d extended, like sleeping in another room, seemed to give birth to more confusion until he’d thought the woman would explode, she’d gotten herself so worked up.

  God help him, he was beginning to suspect that Old Sam’s statement in the bar that “Coyote Bill brought Elizabeth up rough” hadn’t referred to a lack of dresses. The woman’s distrust of men and any kindness they extended went bone deep. Asa had a feeling Brent’s part in Elizabeth’s distrust was more along the line of confirming rather than creating. He placed his pen on the desk top, checked to make sure no incriminating notes were lying about, and called for her to enter. Last thing he wanted was for her to start worrying he couldn’t pull the Rocking C out of this mess.

  The door opened and she sailed in, head high, shoulders back, a sure sign she was ready to fight. She nodded her head. “Mr. MacIntyre.”

  She was using his full name again. He wondered if she knew how it made his blood heat. When she said it all prim and proper like that, he wanted to lay her down and kiss her until she admitted he was Asa, her husband, someone she cared about.

  “I thought we’d settled on you calling me Asa?”

  She wrung her hands, seemed to realize what she was doing, and stopped. “I’m sorry. This whole marriage is taking some getting used to.”

  He relaxed into the high-backed chair. The stuffed leather seat welcomed his weight like a lover. Taking over the Rocking C did have its compensations. “In time, we’ll get used to each other.”

  From the look she sent him, he guessed she didn’t agree. She licked her lips. “I’ve come to a decision.”

  “You sure you took enough time?”

  “Two days was plenty.”

  “Let’s hear it then.”

  “You’ve been very considerate in keeping your distance.”

  He smiled, hearing it put like that. Sounded like he was a real gentleman, instead of being drowned in work, spending twelve hours a day eking as much out of the daylight as he could before coming home and dropping exhausted into the spare bed, only to repeat the same procedure the next day. “Thank you.”

  Her hands commenced to clench and unclench in the folds in her skirt. “But I don’t feel that’s the best way for us to proceed.”

  She had his attention now. “You don’t?”

  “No.” If her fingers picked up any more speed, she was going to spend an hour pressing that skirt.

  “What do you suggest?”

  Her gaze seemed to lock on a point just to the right of his shoulder. “I’m well aware men have needs that need to be met regularly.”

  “You are?”

  “Please, don’t make fun of me, Mr. MacIntyre. This is a very embarrassing subject and I’m doing my best to get through it.”

  “My apologies.”

  “I can’t see where refusing you my bed will accomplish anything except to increase tension between us.”

  “You can’t?”

  If looks could kill, he’d be dead. “No. I cannot.”

  “Because I have these needs?”

  “Exactly.” She was viewing him with a bit more favor now. “While I’m aware a man doesn’t exercise all his needs with his wife—”

  “He doesn’t?”

  She looked down her nose at him. “I may not be experienced, Mr. MacIntyre, but I have a good working knowledge of how the world works.”

  “I’m beginning to see that.” At least, he was beginning to see how she thought his world worked.

  “As I was saying, while I understand you won’t be faithful in body to me for the duration of our marriage, I’d like to make it a term of our ‘courtship’ that, for one month, you confine your needs to my person.”

  “You would?”

  As her chin tipped higher, the look down her nose took longer. “Yes, I would.”

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why a month?”

  Her face abandoned pink for a bright red hue. “My reasons are private.”

  “Well,” he drawled, “Seeing as how I’m giving up all those other women, I feel I got a right to know the why of it.”

  “It’s only for a month.”

  He pretended to consider it. He sighed and looked regretful. He bit back a smile as her hands stopped their desperate clenching. When she spoke, her voice was perfectly precise. “If you must know, I’d like the opportunity to get to know your preferences.”

  “I get the feeling you’re not talking about how I take my coffee.”

  “No. I’m not.”

  He waved her to a chair. “You sure you don’t want to sit down?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He rose from the chair and came around the side of the desk. He was pretty sure it wasn’t his imagination that she seemed to hold herself so still, it appeared she’d stopped breathing. He hitched his hip on the corner of the desk. “Let me get this straight. As part of our courting, you expect me to come to your bed and educate you in precisely how I like my loving?”

  Her nod was stiff. A bare jerk of her chin.

  “And I’m to keep my attentions confined to you?”

  Another jerk.

  “After the month, however, I’m free to sport where I want with no complaints from you?”

  This time, she managed a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”

  “Well, now, that’s darned generous of you.”

  “I’m trying to be reasonable.”

  No, Asa thought, she was being clever as a cat and just as practical. She was planning on holding him with sex unless he missed his guess. Failing that, she was planning on relegating him to the role of scoundrel, insuring that he never got a chance to hurt her. Her cleverness made him smile. He wasn’t going along with her plan, but he could work with it. “How often?”

  “What?”

  “How often am I allowed to come to your bed?”

  The total look of dismay on her face clued him to the fact she hadn’t thought of that. She rallied though. “I’d think that would depend on the frequency of your needs.”

  Every time she referred to his needs in that prissy tone of voice, he wanted to laugh and kiss her at the same time. “Well now,” he drawled, “needs are funny critters. A man doesn’t rightly know when they might sneak up on him.”

  “You don’t know how often…?” She waved her hand between them in a descriptive arc. This time, her dismay showed clearly on her face. He nearly burst a gut holding in his laughter. She was so sweet to tease. As if he was going to let her get away with neatly stashing him into a single corner of her life.

  “Nope.”

  She sat in the chair. “I hadn’t considered the possibility…” For the first time since entering the room, she looked him squarely in the face. “This is going to be a problem.”

  Not for him. “I don’t see where it could be too tough. If we shared a bed at night, you’d be convenient if I got struck with the notion.”

  “These needs come upon you mostly at night?”

  He could actually see her brain ticking away at the options. He shrugged and admitted, “A fair number of them.”

  “We could move your room to the one across the hall.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not liking the thought of crossing that cold floor.”

  “It’s not that cold yet.”

  He shook his head again. “I can see how set you are against the idea. Why don’t we just drop that line? I’ll settle things as best I can.”

  He shifted ba
ck to his feet. She sprang to hers, placing her hand on his chest to stop him. “No. It’s all right. I was just reluctant to give up my privacy.”

  He raised his eyebrow at that blatant lie.

  “No,” she hurried on to assure him. “It’ll be fine.” She nodded her head as if he’d done something other than just stand there. “It’s settled. You’ll share my bed and I’ll be convenient for your…well, I’ll be convenient.”

  “For the next month.”

  She nodded, visibly relaxing. “Yes.”

  “And then?”

  “We’ll revisit our decision.”

  He touched her cheek, thinking how pretty a green her eyes were today. He wondered how long it would take her to realize he had no intention of behaving like she wanted him to. Sure enough, if she wanted to pigeon-hole him, she was going to have to raise her expectations. “Fair enough.”

  He slid his hand around the back of her neck. He was dead tired, but he wasn’t so tired that he didn’t want to steal a bit of her nervousness. “Come here.” He pulled her into his arms. As always, she stiffened up first and then relaxed. “You got anymore rules?”

  “Yes.” There was a pause. “Is there any reason we have to stand like this?”

  He chuckled. “Not a one.” Without another word, he scooped her up and sat on the chair. When he had her settled in his lap he asked, “Is that better?”

  “I meant, was there any reason you had to hold me for us to converse?”

  “Yup.” He scooted down and resettled her against his chest. “I like holding you.”

  She didn’t seem to have an answer to that.

  He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. “What are your conditions?”

  “I’d like you to come home for lunch if possible. And I’d like for us to attend church together on Sunday.”

  “I’m not much of a churchgoer.”

  “You said you wanted us to do normal things.”

  “Best I can tell, y’all don’t have a regular preacher, so I can’t see how going to church on Sunday is normal.”

  “We have a preacher that comes through every other week.”

  “Uh-huh.”