A Windswept Promise

by Brandi Boddie

  Sophie tugged at her high-necked collar. “He wanted to show his support of women voting on school elections.”

  “I didn’t take an unschooled cowboy for a forward thinker.”

  She bristled at the remark, even though it was not intended for her. “One doesn’t need a formal education to be progressive.”

  “From my experience, it helps.”

  Sophie fanned her face. “I’ll have you know, Mr. Hooper, that my father did not attend your college, but he has singlehandedly managed to bring the railroad to Assurance and make what was once a tent city into a town on the state map. Will you dispute that?”

  “I meant no disrespect to your father. We all are grateful for Mr. Charlton’s efforts in growing our town. I only meant it in reference to Sterling. He doesn’t sound like a man to be a suffragist.”

  “Don’t let the drawl fool you. Dusty Sterling is many things, but he is not ignorant.”

  “You never cease in telling me all the things that Mr. Sterling is to you.” Jealousy settled across Chad’s face. “I don’t like how you always see fit to defend him.”

  Sophie had dug herself into a hole that was getting to be too deep to claw her way out of. “I don’t like defending myself, much less Mr. Sterling. I agreed to let you and only you court me.”

  Chad opened his mouth to reply, but clamped down at the last moment. He turned the petition to the second page and reached for his fountain pen, jabbing the instrument into the ink well on the desk. He wrote his name with large flourishes, taking up three inches of blank space where four more names could easily have fit.

  “There is my fulfillment of our bargain. It’s your turn.”

  His attempt at being flirtatious sounded like a demand to her ears. He motioned with one finger for her to come to him. Was he not going to get up from that chair?

  He remained seated as she stood over him. Conquest shone in his eyes as he allowed the barest of smiles to reach his lips. Sophie waited for him to take her hand, gather her near, or do whatever it was that gentlemen were supposed to do before embracing ladies. He never moved.

  This was to be her first kiss with Chad, he reclining and making her do all the work? Indignation flared in Sophie’s chest. Even when Dusty stole that kiss, he had the decency to spring for her. Granted, it was unwelcome at the time, but at least he put forth the effort. That was more than she could say for a man wagging his finger at her as though she were a small child learning to toddle across the floor of the nursery.

  She bent over and planted a quick kiss on his cheek. His skin was smooth and cool. Strange images of cold, day-old catfish came to her mind.

  Chad had his eyes closed. He popped one open. “That’s all?”

  “Until you rid yourself of doubt and start courting me properly, Mr. Hooper, I’m afraid that will be the extent of my affections. Good day to you, sir.”

  He stood up so fast she thought he would send the chair sprawling. “What about my signature on the petition?” Without hesitation, she picked it up on her way out.“Never you worry. It’s big enough for all to see.” She closed the door behind her.

  CHAPTER 16

  I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU did that, Sophie,” Linda exclaimed as they left the bank. Sophie told her everything that took place in Chad’s office. “He may not want to court you anymore after you refused to give him a proper kiss.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” She handed the petition to Linda so she could see Chad’s grandiose signature looming on the second page. “Both of them have signed it now. I did what I could to lay his fears to rest about Dusty. Your belief too, I hope.”

  Linda’s face told that her beliefs were still alive and thriving. She walked with Sophie across the street where David had the horses ready.

  “I know that look. What is it you want to say, Linda?”

  “Petition signed or not, it still doesn’t prove you don’t fancy Dusty, or at least put up with him more than you should. I’ve watched the two of you go back and forth for years.”

  “It hasn’t been that long.”

  “It is a long time, considering his type of work. Most farmhands leave after a season or two.”

  “Daddy pays him well.” Sophie supplied the most logical reason available. “Are you going to sign the petition or not?”

  Linda sighed and took the pencil she offered. “If my mother gets angry about this, I’ll tell her you forced me.”

  “Before or after you tell her about Wes Browman?” Satisfied that she made Linda blush at the mention of her admirer’s name, Sophie took the signed petition and tucked it safely in her mare’s saddlebag.

  David walked up to her with the horses after Linda returned to the seamstress shop. “Are you done yet?”

  “For the time being. I should venture to the train station. Many of the signatures on here are from ladies new in town.”

  Her brother helped her onto her horse. “I’m not sitting at that depot all day.”

  “You will if Daddy says you have to come with me.”

  David mounted his own horse. “I’m almost seventeen. Both of you won’t be able to boss me about for much longer.” He rode ahead of her. “When I reach majority, I just might pursue a different calling.”

  Sophie made sure he could see her wrinkle her nose in distaste. “There’s not much around here for amateur lassoists.”

  “I’m fixin’ to be a cowhand, mind you. And just so you know, there is work to be found ’round these parts. While you were gabbing to Linda, I overheard some men talking about a new ranch outside town. The Zephyr Ranch, it’s called. The owner’s hiring.”

  Another sinking feeling came on. If David heard about a new ranch, then Dusty must also have knowledge of it. She gave Bess’s reins a tug to make the horse turn left. “How long has the ranch been there?”

  “I don’t know. A few weeks. It’s where farmer Crenshaw’s old place used to be. They already put in a fence and started fixing up the main house, from what I’m told.”

  Sophie wanted to ask who had been hired, but remembered her father’s warning about gossip. Ever since he severely admonished her last year for speaking about Marissa’s saloon-girl past, she thought twice about returning down that old, worn road. “You’d still have to wait until you’re older to work on a ranch. Daddy would never approve.”

  “I don’t plan on telling him until I turn eighteen.”

  “We can all see how ill-contented you are. It’s only a matter of time before he has a word with you.” She hoped her father wouldn’t blame it on Dusty, but there was no one else but him on the farm to inspire her younger brother to pursue a different calling.

  What if Dusty felt the same way as David, but didn’t let on? He never did say where he was going that morning. He was dressed like he was going to meet somebody important.

  Sophie sped her horse into a canter, eager to get home and catch Dusty. It wasn’t gossiping if she came straightforwardly and asked him if he paid a visit to the Zephyr Ranch. He couldn’t lie to her. She had every nuance of his face memorized, from the cleft in his chin to the crinkles of his eyes when he smiled. She’d know if he wasn’t telling the truth.

 
The ride back into Assurance was less disagreeable now that Dusty knew there were cowhands just down the road that he could swap stories with. No longer the only cowboy in town, he was thankful that his remaining in Kansas had not been a mistake. As to the matter of continuing to work on the Charlton farm and see Sophie’s sweet face every day, he groaned at the restlessness nagging from within.

  Their games of dally and tease were drawing to a close. Sophie wanted to get herself hitched to a wealthy man, not flirt with fellows that thought her pretty, but couldn’t afford to put her up in the splendor she was used to. Too bad the things he knew how to do didn’t pay much.

  He hated the feelings that betrayed him. God designed man to work, and to take pleasure in it. Whatever his hands found to do, be it to work a lasso or push a plow, he needed to do it for the Lord’s glory. Dusty was able to abide by that before. Why not today?

  One of the liverymen acknowledged him as he passed by. Folks in town would call him ungrateful if they knew the workings of his mind. At least he was making steady pay, had a good roof over his head, and had a place to lay his head at night, they’d say. Plenty of other folks didn’t have those things. Count the blessings.

  He always did. Dusty knew he was better off than he was before he rode into town with just his horse, some savings, and a spare change of clothes. The problem was in finding something more permanent. No man could be a roaming cowboy forever. Either he found himself a ranch to work on or he needed to take up another trade. Unlike his industrious father, who was a gun shop owner before he became a rancher, Dusty had no plans to take up residence in town and work in a store.

  “Mr. Sterling.”

  Dusty moved his head left and right to see who called his name. When he looked past the head of his horse, he found Chad Hooper standing in the middle of the street. “Yeah?”

  “A word with you.” Sophie’s beau appeared not to notice the dirt sticking to his shiny shoes and pressed suit.

  “’Fraid you caught me on my way to someplace, Hooper.” Dusty didn’t bother to come up with specifics. The mayor’s son might find a way to twist that around, too.

  “It won’t take long.” Chad walked to a shaded spot on the corner of the road, under the storefront sign of what would soon be a hardware shop.

  Dusty dismounted and led Gabe off the road. He kept the stallion’s reins in hand instead of tying them to a nearby post. “Speak your mind.” Air his conscience, was what Dusty really wanted Chad to do, but the banker didn’t divulge.

  “I spoke to Miss Charlton this afternoon. I noticed you were the first to sign her petition. How surprising to learn you were in favor of women’s suffrage.”

  “I guess it would surprise you, seeing as how that information isn’t written on any of my bank records.”

  One of Chad’s nostrils twitched. “Actually, I meant given your past experiences driving herds up through cattle country. It isn’t a cause that most men in your position would devote themselves to.”

  “Times are changin’. A man in my position learns to accept that and find his place in the midst of it.”

  “So you do understand where your place is, Mr. Sterling?”

  Dusty thought of words he used to employ before he gave up swearing. This was an opportune time to reinstate them, but he didn’t want to revive an old habit on account of a minor temptation. “I’m still listening for the point to this discussion.”

  A bead of sweat formed on Chad’s temple and ran down behind his ear. Or was it hair lacquer? Dusty couldn’t tell. “If you haven’t heard, I’m courting Miss Charlton. I asked permission from her father to do so and was granted it. That means that she is not accepting of your attempts to woo her by showing an interest in her causes.”

  “You got all that from me signing a petition?” Dusty kept a straight face as both of Chad’s nostril’s flared. No wonder he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps and run for office. When he got mad, there was no hiding the thoughts that expressed themselves on his face.

  “She talks about you. I know you pursue her.”

  Dusty gloried in the small victory that he stayed on Sophie’s mind, even while she was in the presence of her beau. Did she think about him as often as he did her? If so, he wasn’t out of the running yet.

  “To what extent have you tried to be amorous with Miss Charlton?” Chad displayed a knack for questioning. If his clients left him, he could always trade his bank license for that of an attorney.

  Dusty recalled that evening of the Founders Day Festival, when he swooped Sophie up for a kiss. He could still feel her long lashes fan against his cheeks, her soft lips beneath his. Maybe he shouldn’t have caught her off guard, but it was well before Chad Hooper made his intentions known. “I’ve done nothing since she told me that you were courting her.”

  None of his answers satisfied Sophie’s beau. Chad’s voice became strident. “What did you do before?”

  People in the streets turned. Chad cleared his throat and waited for them to keep on their way. “Sterling, you are to leave Miss Charlton alone. Do you comprehend?”

  Dusty wanted nothing more than to curl his fist and send the mayor’s boy splattering off his high perch. The sheriff’s office was just down the street though. He had better things to do than spend a couple hours in a cramped, dirty cell with the town’s portly law official as his only company. “It must be the country boy in me, but I don’t seem to follow these fancy rules of courtship. Down in Texas, a lady ain’t spoken for until she has a ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. Why don’t we let Sophie decide which man she wants?”

  Chad spat out a harsh laugh. “Do you call yourself a rival for her affections?”

  “I don’t have to call myself anything. You’re the one with all the fancy titles and accolades surrounding his name. We’ll see if they mean something to Sophie.” Dusty vaulted back in the horse’s saddle.

  As he rode from the town square, he knew the secret was out. He had practically declared himself a valid contender for Sophie’s hand. Anyone that overheard him and Chad talking would get the word out to the rest of the town by nightfall. Airing that bit of business wasn’t going to help his chances with Sophie. In fact, he may have shortened his stay at the farm. Still, an exuberance washed over him that was as fresh and exhilarating as any splash in the lake.

  He smiled at the path leading home to Sophie. “May the best man win.”

  Sophie saw Dusty riding his stallion up to the house, wearing that grin like a harebrained fool. Did he pay a courting visit to Margaret as she originally assumed? He wasn’t so happy that morning when he left.

  “Miss Sophie.” He tipped his hat in playful formality and kept right on for the barn. She considered leaving the laundry in the basket beneath the clothesline and going after him. That’s what he wanted her to do. No, she’d stay right there and finish gathering the dry clothes before joining her family in the house to prepare supper.

  He returned several minutes later, a jaunty stride in his step. “Did you get all the signatures you wanted today?”

  She pressed her hands against the wrinkles in the homespun floral calico she changed into to complete the last chores before Sunday. “Two pages’ worth.” A page and a half, not counting Chad’s sig
nature, but she wouldn’t quibble over small details. “How was your day?” She fished for a way to get the subject of the Zephyr Ranch into the conversation.

  “Oh, just fine. Ran into a friend of yours while I was in town.”

  She glanced toward the house to make sure the front door was closed and that no one could hear. She scraped her nails along the outside of a clothespin. “Dare I ask which friend?”

  He sat on the grass near the basket. “Take a guess if you’re brave enough.”

  “Margaret Rheins.”

  “How did I know you were going to say that?” He produced another grin. She was beginning to think him the inspiration for the Cheshire Cat in that illustrated book of Rosemarie’s.

  “If not Margaret, then who?”

  “I’ll give you a hint. He’s always dressed for a funeral.”

  Chad’s dark-suited image came immediately to the forefront of her mind. “Shame on you, Dusty. That wasn’t very nice.”

  He snatched a blade of grass and chewed on it. “But you know who I’m talking about now.”

  “I won’t dignify that comment with an answer.” Sophie pulled a tablecloth off the line.

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t show out, as you like to say. He came up to me and asked what I called myself.”

  “What?”

  “He wasn’t satisfied that I simply went by Dusty Sterling. He called me a cowboy, and I don’t much mind that one bit.”

  “Quit teasing and get to the point. I don’t like when you try to make me antsy.”

  The blade of grass hovered at the corner of his mouth. “He wanted to know if I was your courter or your wooer or his rival. I think that about sums it up.”