Promises Decide

by Sarah McCarty

  And she’d enjoyed it. The lift in her voice and the light in her eyes left no doubt of that. Damn. Though why he was surprised, he didn’t know. A woman who’d head across the country with three kids in tow was no shrinking violet. “Well, I’m glad I could keep you entertained.”

  A grin teased her mouth. “You did liven up my evening.”

  The humor caught him by surprise. She was always surprising him. The unpredictability kept him on his toes. It lent a little adventure to every conversation. “I’ve got nothing to say to that but thank you for the care.”

  Smoothing her apron. “It’s about time you said that.”

  “I was a bit distracted before now.” He took another sip of water to ease the rasp in his voice. “Where’d you come from?”

  Kevin opened his mouth. Mimi shut it with a look.

  Interesting. That was the second time one of them had been going to tell him something only to be silenced. There were some secrets here.

  This time Mimi’s smile wasn’t genuine. “Back East.”

  Which could be anywhere.

  Propping Melinda Sue back in her own seat, Jackson gritted his teeth, made sure the blanket was still secure, and pushed back from the table. He was stiff, sore, hungry, and tired. But he wasn’t helpless. It took concentration to stand. Effort to not moan as tight muscles stretched. All the while he strove to appear normal. Mimi and the children watched every move. Just as he was congratulating himself on pulling it off, Mimi said, “Let me help you back to bed.”

  Damn. So much for his acting skills. “I can make it.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Are we back to that again?”

  “I wasn’t aware we’d ever left it.”

  “You’re such a baby.”

  The hell he was. “No,” he snapped, “I’m not. It would be a mistake to think so.”

  If he hadn’t been watching her so carefully, he might have missed that subtle intake of breath, but he was watching. He had been since the moment he’d met her. Damn. Which only left one question. Was that fear or excitement? Common sense said fear. A perverse part of him wanted it to be excitement.

  Her fingers tightened on her upper arms, creating pale half-moon indents. Just as quickly she relaxed. He made a note of the betraying gesture. Letting out a long breath and waving her hand, Mimi explained, “You were hurt saving me. Can’t you just be a good patient and allow me to express my gratitude?”

  He could lie and say yes, but the truth was he couldn’t. He didn’t want her pity or gratitude. He wanted her seeing him not as a patient but as a man. This woman he wanted to impress. This woman he wanted to hold, to cherish, to impress— Shit. What the hell was wrong with him? They were strangers. “No.”

  A small hand slipped into his. He’d been so caught up in Mimi, he hadn’t even realized Melinda Sue had gotten out of her chair. Damn it. The woman was causing him to lose his edge.

  “You have to do as you’re told,” she whispered, as if everyone couldn’t overhear.

  “Not always,” he whispered back.

  Her pigtails swayed as she nodded her head. “Uh-huh.”

  This clearly wasn’t an argument he was going to win.

  Mimi knelt in front of Melinda Sue and smoothed her blond hair off her face. “We’re not fighting, baby. We’re just deciding best how to get Mr. Montgomery to bed.”

  The boys hung to the side, uncertain how to handle this but ready to jump in if necessary. He appreciated their support.

  Melinda Sue slipped her arm around his thigh, drawing his attention. “What are you doing, sprout?” he asked, catching the blanket before it could be pulled off.

  She giggled at the name and attempted to lift him. “I’m helping.”

  “Why, thank you.” Ruffling her hair, he held out his hand. “Why don’t you lead the way?”

  “All right.”

  It was hard to cooperate with her help and not topple. Sitting had stiffened him right up.

  “Take him to my room, Melinda Sue,” Mimi directed, hovering just off to the right. The look she gave him spoke loud and clear. You’re not fooling me.

  And put Mimi out of her own bed? Hardly. Not only would his father have him out behind the woodshed for such unchivalrous behavior, they were back to that whole problem of worrying about his slipping manhood. Jackson let Melinda Sue “help” as far as his pallet. There he put on the brakes. “I’m more comfortable on the floor.”

  Mimi was shaking her head before he finished. “I won’t hear of it.”

  The hell she wouldn’t. “Melinda Sue, plug your sister’s ears. Things are about to get colorful.”

  The little girl chuckled and skipped over to Mimi.

  Mimi pushed Melinda Sue’s hands away. “Stop it, Mellie.”

  “But he said to—”

  Frowning at him, she snapped, “Mr. Montgomery says a lot of things I don’t listen to. No need for plugging my ears.”

  Jackson didn’t even bother to hide his exasperation. “You’d be happier if you’d listen more.”

  “I think you’re confusing listening with cooperating. I’ve heard you, but I simply don’t agree. In our house, guests don’t sleep on the floor.”

  Jackson studied her. The set of her jaws and shoulders said she wasn’t budging. Well, neither was he. “I don’t see where you’re going to have a choice. Unless you’re thinking of bringing my horse back in here?”

  There was a pause. Those fingertips sank back into her upper arm. Her nails were ragged on the edges. She was too fine a woman to be handling a homestead alone.

  “No, but—”

  “Then, it’s settled, but speaking of my horse . . .” He motioned the boys over. “I need you two to go take Little Lady—”

  “Your horse?” Tony asked as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

  “Yeah, my horse. I put her out in the grass earlier, so her belly should be full. Bring her back into the barn. Give her fresh water.”

  “I’ll do the water!” Kevin said. Jackson held up his hand before Kevin could dart off. “Rinse out the bucket first. Make sure there’s no scum sitting in it. We don’t want her taking sick. If there’s any oats, give her some.”

  “There aren’t any,” Tony said, back to his usual solemnness, as if he didn’t want Jackson to note his apparent love of horses.

  Jackson nodded. “I figured.” He added oats to his mental shopping list. “Then just get her settled down, give her some good pats. She might be nervous. One of you bring in my saddle.”

  Tony raised his hand. “I’ll do it.”

  Jackson nodded again. “Thank you. Put it over an empty stall or something. Don’t just throw it on the ground. Saddles get ruined that way. The bags you can bring to me here.”

  They stared at him.

  “Did you understand all that?”

  Tony hitched up his pants. “I did.”

  “So did I,” Kevin jumped in, not to be undone.

  “All right, then. Just take your time and do it right. The first rule over everything is a man takes care of his horse. Got that?”

  They both nodded.

  “Good.” He really did need to lie down. “I’ll be here waiting for a report when you’re done.”

  The boys swaggered out, full of importance over their responsibility. He shook his head. Had he ever been that young? As the door closed behind them, he was keenly aware of Mimi’s eyes on him. It couldn’t be helped, though. He had to make good on his boast. The only problem was the remnant of his pallet was a long way down. A long way.

  “Still want to be stubborn?” Mimi asked.

  “It’s called being gallant. And yes.” Assuming he could get his stiff muscles to bend enough to kneel. Letting the blanket slide down his arm, he held out. “But if you want to help, you could make up the pallet. I’m pretty much at the
‘lie down or fall down’ end of my endurance.”

  She looked everywhere but at his naked chest as she took the blanket. For a moment, he felt a twinge of conscience. He didn’t normally just bare his chest in front of women. Truth was, he hadn’t been thinking. He just needed to lie down. She took his blanket. Unfortunately, she went in the wrong direction. Before he could question it, she disappeared into the bedroom. A minute later, she came back with a couple more well-worn blankets and a battered- looking pillow. Shoving the bundle into his arms, she ordered, “Hold these.”

  She was being very careful not to look at his naked chest. Because she was embarrassed or because she was intrigued? He didn’t have an answer. Blushing, she grabbed the top blanket and spread it on the floor.

  “Just out of curiosity, what happened to my shirt?”

  The blush deepened.

  “I had to cut it off. It was filthy so I washed it. I’ll mend it when it dries.”

  Did she think he was criticizing? “Thank you.”

  “No problem.”

  Taking the pillow next, she tossed it to one end of the pallet. The next blanket she snapped out over the other with unnecessary force. She was annoyed. When she knelt to smooth it out and fold back the top, he admired the view. She was a very attractive woman.

  “There. Your bed is made.”

  He held out his hand. “Thank you.”

  After a brief hesitation, she placed her palm in his. Her fingers curled gently around his. They felt small and dainty. Right. He shook his head at the fanciful thought. He must be running a fever. With a tug, he pulled her to her feet. Pain seared his back. Her face blurred out of focus. His skin grew clammy. Mimi came up against his chest with an awkward stumble.

  Her gasp caressed his chest. Something warm and wet trickled down his back. In the hazed reality of the moment, he understood he’d broken open his wound. “I suspect I’ll be as right as rain once I get some sleep.”

  He desperately wanted to sleep. Or pass out. He didn’t care which any longer, as long as he was flat on the floor when it happened.

  “Right as rain might be stretching it,” she muttered disgustedly, steadying him as he swayed.

  “I’m not a lying man.”

  “Just a delusional one.”

  He probably wasn’t supposed to hear that. His knees buckled. He sank, knowing he was giving her a full-on view of his weakness.

  Some days it just didn’t pay to get out of bed.

  Six

  He woke up with his stomach gnawing through to his backbone and a hard-on trying to drill a hole in the floor. The latter was Mimi’s fault for sure. The woman seemed to have an insidious ability to sneak past his barriers. He might not have minded her intrusion so much if he could remember the details of a single one of those dreams, but all he had was a sense of passion and a vivid awareness of missing out on something good. Sighing, he rolled onto his back. He waited for the spinning to start. It didn’t. He waited for the pain to rip through him. Instead, it throbbed with a bearable ache, centered in his back and his head rather than all-encompassing. Releasing his dread on a long sigh, he let himself focus on other things. Like how hard the floor was against his aching back.

  It was early, so as quietly as he could, he got to his feet. Gritting his teeth against the pull on his wound and the pounding in his head, he took a step. A splinter lodged into his foot. Swearing under his breath, he searched for his things. His boots, bedroll, and saddlebags were piled over by the mantel. His weapons were nowhere in sight. Muscles protesting every inch of the way, he tiptoed to the mantel, shaking his head at the absurdity. He hadn’t tiptoed around a woman’s house since he was eighteen and too much booze and too much temptation had landed him in the Widow Myer’s bed.

  He would have liked a change of clothes, but the ones in the bag were as dirty as what he was wearing. He was going to have to do laundry. Picking up the bags, he frowned. They were too light by far. A quick search revealed only the clothes were gone. Which could only mean one thing: Mimi had taken them. No doubt to clean them.

  He normally didn’t like people touching his things, but he kind of liked the thought of Mimi’s hands on his clothes, cleaning them, preparing them for him. Pulling out his high-top moccasins, he smiled and checked the second bag. His gold was there. So were his bullets. Whatever they were, these folks weren’t thieves. He closed the saddlebags and slung them over his shoulder. Picking up his moccasins, he eased his way to the front door in search of his guns. He didn’t feel naked without his shirt, but without his knives and guns? That was a whole other matter.

  The front door squeaked slightly as he opened it. Making a shushing motion to the noisy hinge, he slipped out and closed it gently behind him. Bracing against the jamb for support, he pulled on his moccasins, laced them up, and straightened.

  Standing on the porch, he took a deep breath and basked in the sunlight creeping in on the morning mist. Morning had always been his favorite time of day. He loved the quiet, the scent of damp earth, and the soft calls of newly awakened birds. There was so much promise in the morning. His mother had always said if they could harness that promise, life would be easier for everyone. He smiled as a bee buzzed around the clover. He’d spent a lot of mornings as a young boy trying to harness morning’s power. He’d really wanted to make the world an easier place back then. Now, twenty-two years later, he’d gone in the opposite direction, carving a living out of making life harder for some of the state’s worst criminals. It was odd how life took dreams and turned them around sometimes.

  He took another deep breath and pushed away from the jamb. Nothing like a snakebite to make a man appreciate his life. After stopping at the privy—it really did need to be redug—he headed toward the barn. He figured Mimi had to have stashed his weapons somewhere out of Melinda Sue’s reach. That child was pure mischief and curiosity. The barn was the most likely location.

  The barn door creaked louder than the house door when he opened it. It stuck unexpectedly halfway, almost knocking out his teeth. That needed adjusting. Little Lady whickered as soon as he entered.

  “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you, honey?”

  Standing up to the edge of the stall, she tossed her head. Her silky brown mane fell over her eyes as she tucked her chin and waffled at him. Smiling, he walked over and rubbed her forehead. It was their morning ritual except he didn’t have a cube of sugar. Lady did like her sugar, but he’d run out a couple days back.

  “When we get to town, I’ll be getting you some sweets.”

  She bumped him with her head. He scratched her ears. “I promise.”

  This time she stomped her feet and nibbled at his coat. Lady didn’t like to take no for an answer.

  “Sorry. How about we go for a ride later?”

  It might be his imagination, but Lady seemed to perk up.

  The barn door creaked a short warning. He turned and saw a familiar silhouette. The fresh scent of morning swept over the stale scent of the closed-up barn.

  “What are you doing?” Mimi asked.

  “I was checking on Little Lady.”

  She handed him his shirt, laundered and mended, along with his hat. “I suppose you’ll be wanting your guns soon?”

  There was a lot of belligerence in that statement. He rubbed the shoulder near where the snake had struck, flexing at the stiffness before awkwardly putting on his shirt. “I’d really like them now.”

  She shrugged. A sunbeam expanding out from a knothole in the wall embraced her as she came deeper into the barn. The light highlighted the curve of her cheek and the creaminess of her skin, and he realized just how young she was. Her hair fell in a neat braid down her back. A long plaid shawl was draped around her shoulders, covering up most of the white nightgown beneath. The shawl’s fringe swayed around her thighs. The nightgown brushed the dirty floor. On her feet she wore what had once been sturdy s
hoes but were now battered shadows of their former selves. She walked over to a long, wide ledge set high above the left of the door. When she bent to grab a wooden crate, the gown pulled tightly across her buttocks as if to disprove his notion of her as a child. She did have a fine figure.

  Unaware of his attention, she dragged the crate over to beneath the shelf. A mouse scurried out as the box brushed the wall. Mimi screamed and jumped back.

  Just as quickly, Jackson jumped forward, catching her as she stumbled on the uneven floor. She screamed again, whirling on him, fist raised.

  Cupping her shoulders in his hands, he put an end to the attack. “Whoa, there!”

  She blinked and that fear disappeared behind a mask of calm. He could still feel the fine shivery remnants of it under her skin. She slowly lowered her fist. The shawl had slipped from her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of her pulse pounding in the hollow of her throat and the delicate line of her collarbone. He eased his grip. She licked her lips.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that—”

  “You hate mice,” he finished for her.

  She nodded. Through the thin cotton of her gown, he could feel the curve of her shoulder and the heat of her skin. He pulled the shawl gently up. Taking her hand he put it over the edges. She clutched them reflexively as she cast an anxious glance around.

  “Don’t worry, that mouse is long gone.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “You were going for my guns?”

  She nodded.

  “Where are they?”

  She pointed to the ledge. He let her go. The shelf that was too high for her was just a stretch for him.

  “Be careful,” she warned as he kicked the box aside and reached for the guns. “There might be spiders.”

  From the way she said that, it seemed spiders ranked more fearsome than mice. He smiled and felt along the long shelf. His hand landed on his rifle. “Thank you.”

  It was just as easy to locate his gun belt and knives. He pulled them down one at a time, dutifully inspecting them for spiders as he did. Fastening the gun belt around his waist first, he buckled it quickly, before tucking one knife into its sheath at the base of his spine. It settled there with the familiarity of an old friend. It took a bit more work to put the other into his bootstrap. The rifle he leaned up against the wall. Through it all, she just stood there watching him, arms folded across her chest, holding the shawl tightly. He couldn’t tell if she was still sweating over the mouse or fretting because his weapons gave her second thoughts about who’d she’d invited into her home. Pulling his pant leg down over his boot, Jackson said, “I appreciate you putting them out of curious hands.”