A Promise to Believe In

by Tracie Peterson

  “We can’t prove his murder,” Gwen told her sister. “There are just too many factors. Why not just let it go—and let Pa rest in peace?”

  “Because he can’t rest in peace so long as his killer is on the loose.”

  “What kind of theology is that?” Hank interjected. “Can God only give eternal rest to a man or woman whose death is completely understood?”

  To everyone’s surprise, Lacy’s eyes filled with tears. “None of you understand. You never have. You’re perfectly willing to take the easy way out and forget it ever happened. Well, I can’t.” She turned toward Dave. “You go ahead and ignore the truth. Folks won’t be safe in this area, but it won’t be your problem.” She turned back to her sister. “And you. Why don’t you forget about sending Beth and me back East and go yourself? You don’t care about us, and you certainly don’t care about Pa. You only think about what’s best for you.”

  With that, Lacy pushed past Dave and Hank and ran out of the house. Gwen felt as if a band were tightening around her chest and she couldn’t contain the tears streaming down her face. How could Lacy believe she didn’t care about anyone but herself?

  “I think it would be best if Simon and I leave,” Nick suggested. “We can unload the wagon for you, Hank. Night, Gwen. Thanks for supper.”

  “You’re welcome,” she whispered.

  “Gwen, you know Lacy didn’t mean it,” Dave said, reaching out to touch her arm. “She’s just speaking out of her fear. Fear that she’ll never know the truth. Fear that once she does, it still won’t give her the comfort she seeks.”

  “He’s right,” Hank said, stepping forward. “Lacy is desperate to ease the pain she feels, and hunting down your father’s killer seems to be her only comfort. I apologize for not telling you, but I honestly didn’t want to add to your worry. Lacy seems determined to pursue this until someone pays.”

  “I’ve done all that I could,” Gwen said, sniffing. She wiped at the tears, but they only seemed more determined to fall. “I know I was a poor substitute for our mother, but . . .” She sobbed and buried her face in her hands. She had no idea Lacy hated her so.

  “You’ve done a good job, Gwen. That’s easy to see,” Dave said softly. “I’ll speak with my mother. Maybe she can talk some sense into Lacy. Maybe she can help her to understand your sacrifice.”

  “I don’t care about that. I don’t . . . care about what I’ve given up. I only . . . care that I . . . that I . . . not bring my sisters harm. I want . . . I want . . . them . . . safe.”

  “But you can’t guarantee that,” Hank said, coming alongside her.

  “Lacy needs a firm hand,” Dave said, meeting Gwen’s teary gaze. “And frankly, I’m gonna give her one across her backside if she doesn’t straighten up.”

  For some reason, this struck Gwen as funny. She smiled and her tears began to slow. “I’m sure you’re just the man for the job,” she murmured.

  Hank laughed, and Dave shrugged. “We’ve all got our unpleasant duties,” he told them.

  This made Gwen laugh. She wiped at her eyes. “I’m sure my sister wouldn’t take well to such an idea. Even Pa said it was best to leave well enough alone where Lacy was concerned.”

  “Your sister is half wildcat. She doesn’t worry about protocol or her reputation. She just charges in without thinking, and one of these days she’s gonna get hurt.”

  Gwen sobered. “I know. I’m not happy about her behavior, Dave. I just don’t know what I can possibly do about it. She’s a grown woman.”

  “And well I know it. So do those other rowdies who frequent Rafe’s. Not to mention Rafe and Wyman. Your sister is going to get herself in a world of trouble if she doesn’t stop this nonsense now.”

  “It’s not really nonsense to want to see justice for our father,” Gwen said defensively.

  Hank interrupted. “I think it might be best if one of us had a talk with the cowboys who were at the bar the night Mr. Gallatin was shot.” He looked to Gwen. “Maybe it would settle Lacy down if she could see that we were actually making an effort to learn the truth.”

  “But I’ve been trying to learn the truth,” Dave said, shaking his head. “They were drunk. There were at least eight men, all shooting off their guns. I’ve talked to the men, as well as to Rafe. No one even saw Mr. Gallatin in the midst of things until he was dead on the street. Some of them don’t really even remember that. I just wish Lacy could understand that I’ve done my job. She’s making it really hard for me, and now Rafe has filed a complaint with the sheriff and is demanding she be arrested if she tries to enter the saloon again.”

  Gwen heard the anguish in his voice. “I understand, Dave. Maybe getting herself arrested is what it will take. Maybe it will teach her a lesson. I just don’t know.”

  “Well, I know good and well that if those men find Lacy alone, they’ll teach her a lesson of their own.”

  Gwen shuddered. “I pray that doesn’t happen.”

  Dave nodded. “I do, too.” The clock on the mantel chimed the hour. “I need to get going.”

  “Tell your folks hello for me,” Gwen said as she followed him to the door.

  “I’ll do just that.”

  She waited until he’d mounted his horse and headed down the road before closing the door. When she turned, she found Hank watching her. His gaze caused warmth to spread up her neck and cheeks.

  “I’m sorry you had to be a part of that.”

  “You do realize that it may happen more and more, now that you’re without a man to watch over you and your sisters.”

  Gwen met his eyes and lost herself in their blue depths for a moment. He seemed so concerned that it touched her. “I know this is a difficult territory, but we have people who care about us and watch over us. The Lassiters are good to check on us, and more people are coming to the area all the time.”

  “But more people may only mean more trouble. You spoke of sending your sisters back East, but what about considering the possibility of all of you moving?”

  “I can’t go. I’d never let Rafe have Gallatin House.”

  “What if someone else wanted to buy the place?”

  Gwen shook her head. “I don’t know of anyone, and I don’t know that it would make a difference. I just don’t know what I should do about anything. Even if we found a buyer, I wouldn’t know where to go or how to get there. The girls and I have a good income with the stage stop, but I don’t know that we could duplicate this success elsewhere.”

  “I could help you,” Hank suggested. “I have friends who could offer their assistance, as well.”

  “Friends in Boston?” Gwen asked. It was unsettling to think about Hank leaving them soon.

  “Yes, Boston is a large city and could offer a variety of opportunities.”

  “But a woman alone in the world will always find her opportunities limited. You know that well enough. You’re here because of your mother’s need.”

  “That’s true, but my mother is without the ability or youth to make her way alone. You and your sisters are very talented. You’re smart and young.”

  Gwen smiled. “You are kind to say so, but we both know the truth of it.”

  Hank raised a brow. “Which is?”

  “Without husbands or male relatives, we will always be somewhat of a burden to society. The proper thing for a woman to do is to marry—whether love figures in or not.” Gwen suddenly felt embarrassed by this declaration and moved toward the stairs. “If you’ll excuse me, I should check on Beth.”

  Hank reached out and took hold of her arm. “What did you mean by that?”

  Gwen tried to be nonchalant about her comment. “Only that women have very little say in what happens to them. No one really cares what we want. . . . or what we need.”

  “I care.” Hank spoke soft and low, while his fingers gently stroked Gwen’s forearm.

  For a moment, Gwen lost herself in his gaze. She easily remembered the kiss they’d shared and wished against her will that he might kiss her ag
ain. She very nearly suggested such a thing when a bell rang out.

  Gwen tried to pull her arm from Hank’s grasp, but he wouldn’t let her go. “That’s Beth. I should see to her needs.”

  “But what about your needs, Gwen?”

  She felt her heartbeat quicken. “I . . . uh . . . I don’t know what you mean.”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently. Gwen was just losing herself in the moment when he pulled back. “Open your eyes.”

  She didn’t want to. There was a part of her that hoped she was dreaming and could just go on doing so. Dreams weren’t as dangerous as wakeful emotions.

  “Gwen,” he whispered. She could feel his breath upon her face. She trembled as his finger traced her cheek. “Look at me.”

  This time she opened her eyes. The intensity of his gaze caused her knees to go weak. Had he not been holding on to her, Gwen wasn’t at all sure that she could have remained standing.

  “Tell me what you need, Gwen. What would make you happy?”

  The bell rang again, breaking the spell. Gwen straightened and drew a deep breath. “I have to go.”

  She hurried up the steps, afraid to delay or look back. Afraid, because if she saw the same desire in Hank’s face that she felt in her heart, she might completely forget about Beth and tell him exactly what she needed.

  Lacy sat on a rock by the river, not caring that the light was long gone or that a wild animal might appear to cause her harm. She felt overwhelmed by her feelings. She’d never meant to say such mean things to Gwen. She honestly didn’t believe her sister was capable of being selfish, yet she’d accused her of just that.

  Why did life have to be so complicated? Why did Dave have to be so mean? He only wanted to boss her around and make her miserable. He seemed to get some kind of strange pleasure in making her feel weak and stupid.

  “I have a task to see through to completion,” she said aloud. “I feel confident that I’m supposed to seek out Father’s killer. But why must everyone stand against me? They treat me like a child. Like an addle-minded little girl.”

  Well, it had to stop. She gave serious thought to packing her things and leaving. She could live in Bozeman or even Butte. Both were big enough towns to have jobs available.

  “But what would I do? I’m better at horses and hunting than I am at womanly chores. Who would hire me? Besides, I’d be too far away to really investigate Pa’s death.”

  She felt such a severe sense of defeat that nothing offered her any comfort. Well, there was the memory of Dave’s kiss, but that certainly didn’t qualify as a comforting thought. At least, she was determined that it wouldn’t be such a thing. No matter how many times she found herself daydreaming about the way his lips had felt against hers, Lacy knew there was nothing but danger in such reflection.

  “He’s just trying to sidetrack me,” she told herself. After thinking long and hard about why Dave had kissed her, Lacy was convinced that he had meant to distract her. Since Dave couldn’t divert her attention from finding justice for her father in a threatening or nagging way, Lacy was convinced he meant to woo her into a state of cooperation.

  “Well, he’s wrong. He can kiss me all he wants. I won’t change my mind.”

  At least, she didn’t think she would.

  She supposed another kiss might prove her theory one way or the other, but it was a terrible risk to consider such a thing. What if she was wrong? What if it did change her mind?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Hearing Major barking, Gwen looked out her bedroom window and was surprised to see Hank and Brewster Sherman on the property to the north of Gallatin House. Hank appeared to be walking as if measuring distance, while Mr. Sherman was writing something down. What in the world were they up to?

  She watched for several minutes, seeing Hank extend his arms and point in first one direction, then another. Mr. Sherman stepped forward, nodding, and seemed to be making his own comments on the matter.

  Hank wore the red shirt. He no longer seemed to mind the color, though he had come back from Bozeman with several new white shirts to add to his wardrobe. She couldn’t help but wonder if he would take the dyed shirts back to Boston when he finally departed. Would he keep them as a remembrance of his time in Montana?

  Gwen let the curtain fall back into place and finished making her bed. It was hard to imagine Hank leaving. And though it seemed almost ridiculous, she could no longer deny that she’d fallen in love with him. At first she’d thought it was some sort of infatuation—perhaps based on her loss of Harvey. But she knew better now. For all the good it did her.

  Smoothing the pink-and-white flowered quilt over the sheets, Gwen knew she would be devastated when Hank returned to Boston. She reminded herself of the foolishness of caring about a man who would leave—who had never promised her anything.

  He had said that he cared about her, but Gwen wasn’t sure what that meant or to what depth she could rely on such a statement. Maybe Hank was simply concerned in the way a brother might be for his sister. But that kiss had been no brotherly bequest.

  “I have to stop these thoughts,” she chided.

  Gwen finished with the bed and made her way downstairs. She had her chores to focus on. There was no sense in being silly or losing herself in daydreams that couldn’t possibly come true.

  She spied the stack of newspapers on the counter and remembered why there were there. They were intended for the outhouses. They weren’t the most comfortable thing to use, but they served the purpose and were free. The stage drivers always brought the supply with them from whatever city they’d passed through on the way to Gallatin House.

  Remembering the man who’d announced having torn paper from the wall of the men’s outhouse, Gwen picked up a bottle of paste, also, and figured she might as well make repairs while she was at it. With Hank busy elsewhere and Rafe and his bunch still sleeping, the men’s outhouse should be unoccupied.

  A knock at the front door interrupted her plans, however. Gwen deposited her things once again on the counter and went to see who might be calling at this hour. Ellie stood on the other side, looking rather sheepish. She wore little more than a cotton skirt without benefit of petticoats and a camisole that did very little to hide her thin frame. At least she had a shawl with which to make the ensemble a bit more acceptable.

  “I’m sorry to have bothered you, but I wondered how Miss Beth was doing. I heard she’d taken a fall.”

  Gwen noted the young woman’s concerned expression before Ellie turned her gaze back to the floor. “Beth is much better. Why don’t you come inside and see her?”

  “Oh no,” Ellie said, shaking her head. “Rafe wouldn’t like that. He’ll skin me as it is if he finds out I’ve been over here.”

  “But why? We’re neighbors. He doesn’t seem to restrict himself from coming over whenever he pleases.”

  Ellie’s face flushed red. “He says you Gallatin girls are too high-and-mighty—too religious. He’s afraid we might cause trouble for him if we talk to you too much.”

  Gwen laughed. “Rafe just feels guilty. He knows what he’s doing is wrong.”

  “That’s what Beth said. She mended some clothes for me while you were gone, and when she brought them back, she wouldn’t take any pay. She said she couldn’t take money that had been earned in such a manner. I felt awfully bad about it, but she said it wasn’t anything personal.”

  “Of course not,” Gwen replied. “We’ve often spoken about how we might help you ladies…we just haven’t found a simple solution.”

  “Oh, I know that well enough,” Ellie admitted. She pulled her shawl close. “I tried to find a lot of other solutions before taking on this one. Believe me.”

  “I do.” Gwen recognized the sadness in the girl’s voice. She wished she could offer some kind of comfort, but what could she say that might take away the pain of her circumstance? “Are you sure you won’t just slip upstairs and see Beth? You could do it quickly—even head back out on the side st
airs. That way Rafe wouldn’t see you leave the house.”

  Ellie seemed to consider this for a moment. “That might be all right. I mean, if he doesn’t see me . . .”

  “Ellie!” Rafe’s gravelly voice boomed out as he approached the Gallatin House porch. “What are you doing over here? Haven’t I told you not to be coming around here?” He walked right up and grabbed the girl by the arm.

  “She’s my neighbor, same as you,” Gwen declared. “She has as much right to come calling as anyone else.”

  “I beg to differ with you. She’s my property, and she has no rights. Not unless I’ve given them to her.”

  “I’m sorry, Rafe. I was just checking on Beth. She took a bad fall, and I wanted to see if she was recovering,” Ellie offered.

  “I don’t much care what you wanted. Now get back to work. If you’re up this early, you might as well make yourself useful. Help Cubby clean up the saloon.”

  Ellie nodded and Rafe released her. She hurried back outside, much to Gwen’s disappointment. Rafe treated the women and his own son as if they were nothing more than slaves.

  Rafe turned and offered Gwen a smile. “I actually came with a proposition for you.”

  “I told you that I’m not selling the place to you. I don’t approve of liquor or prostitution.” Gwen put her hands on her hips. “There is nothing about your attitude, demeanor, or vocation that I want any part of.”

  Rafe shook his head. “But winter is coming, Gwennie-girl. You and your sisters can’t possibly hope to handle all of the needs of this stage stop. Why, the wood needed to heat the house alone will be difficult for you to collect and chop.”

  Seeing he had no idea of leaving, Gwen pushed past him and stepped out onto the porch. “I assure you, Mr. Reynolds, we Gallatins are cut from stout cloth. We will be quite capable of seeing to our needs.”

  “But along with the firewood, you’ll need more water brought up. You’ll need to make additional trips to town for supplies. Before winter hits, you’ll have repairs to make and improvements to consider. I could help you with all of that. We could be partners.”