The Drifter's Promise

by Rita Hestand

  "Yes, I guess it does. Why do men like them so much though?"

  "Because…. Whores are paid to listen to hard luck stories, to sad stories, and to boring stories. Whores will have sex with any man, whether they are clean or dirty. and when you leave them don't care."

  "Aw, now I see, you can take them, and leave to your woods and they don't care." She looked rather smug with her conclusion.

  "That's true. They do not care."

  "Well, that makes sense. I rejected Jim on the first try and hated it and told him so. So he went to dancehall girls to satisfy himself. Now I understand why. Even you, I can understand. For they have no goodbye tears for you." She taunted.

  "Yeah, no goodbye tears." He chuckled.

  "Then you were right, I could never be a whore."

  "What do you mean, I was right?" He frowned at her now.

  "You said I could never be like that. And I couldn't Because I would always have goodbye tears, for the men I cared about."

  "Well now, you see, that's the thing."

  "What is?"

  "Whores don't care about anyone but themselves."

  "That's rather harsh don't you think?"

  "Well any man that thinks they do, is sure ignorant."

  "So men put all whores in the same category, and use them for… "

  "Yeah, I guess so. You're feeling much better, aren't you?" he asked with a slight smile.

  She grinned. "Much, can I get up now?"

  "Not on your life."

  "All I want to do is go in the kitchen and watch you cook." She told him.

  He looked from her to the kitchen. "That's all?"

  "Sure." She smiled sweetly at him.

  He picked her up in his arms as she snuggled into him. Her lips brushed his neck as she laid her head on his shoulder.

  He took her into the kitchen, sat her in a chair and put her leg up on one of the other chairs. "Now, happy?"

  "Very," she told him once more with a big smile.

  He moved toward the stove.

  "So what are you going to cook?"

  "It's kind of a hash or what I call goulash kind of thing." He told her. "I came up with it when I was terribly hungry one night on the trail."

  "Interesting, what's in it?"

  "Beef, potatoes and I make sort of a gravy out of it."

  "Sounds good." She smiled.

  "Got any onions?"

  "Yes, in the cupboard to your left." She pointed.

  "Great. Any leftover beef?"

  "As a matter of fact, there is, she pointed to that too."

  "Potatoes?"

  "On the floor there in the iron holder."

  He took all the ingredients and began making his dish. "Good. Now you can eat them with a biscuit or pour them over a biscuit, whichever you like." He told her as it began to cook, and he set it halfway on the side of the stove so it could simmer.

  "How long does it cook?" She asked.

  "Oh about 30-45 minutes it will be ready." He smiled.

  "Well, I learned something." She chuckled.

  "Is that better than reading Ivanhoe?" He asked as he turned to look at her once more.

  "Much better, I've read Ivanhoe many times, but never made what you just did."

  "Want to go sit on the porch?" he asked.

  "That would be great. I love to sit on the porch when it rains."

  "Fine," he picked her up but this time she wrapped her arms around his neck. But as he put her down in the rocking chair on the porch, she didn't let go.

  "Uh…. You can let go now."

  "What if I don't want to?" she asked breathlessly.

  "Kate… " but it was too late, he turned to look at her and she opened her mouth. This time he touched his lips to hers and when she didn't turn loose, he took her up into his arms once more and sat her in his lap.

  The kiss was long and heady and more than she'd hoped for. The slight scent of the man lingered, hay and leather. Her fingers went through his hair as the kiss deepened. Her mouth was an open invitation to his exploring her. His tongue shot out and entered to mate with hers. She slowly let her tongue wind up with his and the feel of his slight shadow on his cheek didn't phase her. His lips melded into hers, blending. How could a mere kiss be so exciting? How could it turn her insides into putty? The more he kissed her, the more she wanted from him.

  From the moment he took command of the kiss, Kate's surrender was obvious. She moaned the way he massaged her lips, and it felt as though their lips melded to each other.

  When he pulled away rather reluctantly, he picked her up and put her in another chair.

  "Why did you do that?" she murmured as he set her down.

  "It's probably best," he told her with a raspy voice.

  "I enjoyed it, didn't you?" she asked.

  "Yeah Kate, I enjoyed it. Now let's leave it at that."

  "Why?" she asked innocently.

  "I'm a drifter Kate, I'll be leaving before too long. Best left alone, don't you think?" He said sitting in the other rocker.

  "It wasn't a marriage proposal Wes. It was just a kiss." She tried to explain her actions.

  "I got nothing to offer you Kate. Nothing." He exclaimed.

  "I see. I didn't know." She said quietly her voice faltering at bit.

  "Didn't know what?"

  "There's no difference."

  "No difference in what?" his voice raised some.

  "Kissing! I mean, when you kiss me like that, and you still feel nothing. I didn't realize it." A tear fell on her cheek and he almost came undone. "I guess you've been away from people so long, you forgot how to feel. That kiss was better than anything I've ever shared with a man. And you throw it away like it's nothing."

  "I felt something Kate." He stared at her but didn't move toward her. "The way you kiss a man makes them feel ten feet tall, like they could fight a bear with their fists and win. I wanted to take you into your bed, just now and make you mine. Kiss you until you begged me to take you and make you mine. That's what I felt. But I'm nothing but a drifter, Kate. You deserve better. Now are you satisfied?" He said and walked off into the rain.

  "Wes," she called to him, but he didn't turn around, he just kept walking.

  A few minutes later he came back, picked her up and took her inside, sat her in a chair in the kitchen, dished her a plate of the hash and they ate.

  Neither one said a word to the other, but she had a flush to her cheeks that wouldn't go away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kate lay in her bed the next day trying to figure Wes out. She'd never been kissed like that before. She never realized a kiss could be so much. But Wes' kiss had curled around her heart and made her want so much more. Did every man kiss like that? She doubted it.

  Wes wanted to make love with her. It startled her, pleased her, and made her want much more. If a kiss were that good from him, what would making love be like with Wes?

  She'd never thought of another man this way before. But Wes left her wanting so much more from him, and yet she knew he wasn't going to give her more.

  She couldn't quite get over the fact that he thought himself less a man because he drifted. She was sure at this moment if he asked her, she'd go with him in a heartbeat. But she also knew he wouldn't be asking her to.

  Was this what love felt like? Since she had little to compare it to, she didn't know.

  The only thing she knew for sure was that she wanted way more of him than he was willing to give.

  Moby came into her room, pushing her door open.

  Dickens saw the strain between them and went to talk to Kate.

  "So what's with the silence around here?" he asked.

  "What do you mean?" Kate asked.

  "Don’t play games with me, Kate. I left the other day and when I came back, something had changed. Is something wrong that I don't know about?'

  "No, not a thing."

  "I know better. What happened?"

  "He kissed me." She blurted.

  "Well,
he did? That's great." Dickens smiled.

  "No, no it isn't. It isn't great. It was the first time he really kissed me. And he didn't hold back from me. He really kissed me. I've never been kissed like that before."

  "Then, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing… "

  "Oh now, don't kid me. What happened after he kissed you?"

  "Nothing, he says he has nothing to offer me."

  "Is he right?"

  "No! He's wrong. He gave me something I never had."

  "And what was that?"

  "A real kiss. You see, my husband never kissed me, I mean a real kiss."

  "Never?"

  "Never!"

  "And you liked Wes kissing you?"

  "Of course I did. "

  "Did he like it?"

  "I think so."

  "Then I don't understand what is wrong?"

  "I told him it wasn't a marriage proposal; it was just a kiss. Even though at that moment, I'd have said yes, if he'd asked. But he didn't. He said he was a drifter and he'd be moving on soon. That he had nothing to offer me." Kate cried.

  "And you believed him?"

  "No, I didn't, but he walked off and never said another word. Now when I am around him, I feel so tense. I don't know what to say, how to act. I shouldn't have let him kiss me. Because now I know what it really feels like. And it hurts."

  "That's understandable, I suppose."

  Then after thinking it through Dickson smiled, 'Maybe I should talk to him."

  "No, let it sit a while. Let him calm down and think about things. I've been too forward with him as it is. He probably thinks ill of me for kissing him back."

  "You kissed him back?"

  "Oh yeah, and it's funny, I didn't think I even knew how. But it came naturally." She smiled.

  "Well that's good. Isn't it?"

  "Yeah, I guess it is."

  "Maybe you need to make him jealous." Dickson said.

  "Oh, I couldn't do that. It's not in my nature, I don't think. And besides, it's not very nice."

  "All is fair in love, you know."

  "Maybe he just needs to go to town."

  "Hasn't he been?" Dickson asked her.

  "No, the last time it rained I sent him off to town, but he must not have stayed long, because he went to your place."

  "You mean he didn't… "

  "He couldn't have, there wasn't that much time."

  "Then he's in love with you."

  "Oh I doubt that. He sure knew when to put on the brake." She sighed.

  "Please, don't tell him all I've said. I'd die of embarrassment."

  "You're in love with him."

  She blushed. "I'm not sure. I don't have anyone to compare him to except Jim, and that's like not having anyone." She admitted.

  "Maybe you should find out for sure if you are."

  "And how pray tell do I do that?"

  "Get yourself a man. If another man kisses you and you don't feel the same, then it is love. If you feel better, then you aren't in love with Wes."

  "Comparing them? Is that how other women figure it out?"

  "Sometimes, yes."

  "But who could I compare it to?" she asked innocently again.

  "Don't you know?"

  "No, I don't."

  "How about that big rancher, Frank Campbell. Wes says he's already pretty sweet on you."

  "But how far do I let things go, before I know?"

  "Just until you know for sure."

  Kate studied on that all day. She had nothing else she could do.

  It was a sunny day and Wes was in the field trying hard to finish up the hay crop so he could be on his way, Kate was sure of that.

  She did get him to put her on the porch so she could get some sunshine.

  But he was very impersonal about it, and Kate felt her heart drop that he didn’t' want to be close to her any longer.

  Why was this so complicated. She enjoyed his kisses and wanted more. Couldn't he just accept that?

  But she tossed the idea of Frank Campbell over and over in her head.

  She finally decided from Wes' cold attitude that she'd go with him the next trip over there and see just how interested Frank was.

  Dickens was right. If Frank's kisses were as good as Wes', then she wasn't in love with Wes and he could be on his way. And who knew, maybe she'd get to liking the rancher. She'd sure give it a try. She knew so little about love and how to play the mating game that anything was better than watching Wes sulked and played silent all the time.

  It was two days later when she went with Wes to Frank's place.

  Frank was overjoyed at seeing her again and offered them both some coffee.

  But this time Frank insisted his foreman would handle the transaction of the hay while he entertained Kate.

  Kate didn't seem to mind so Wes went outside with the foreman. Hal was an easy fella to get along with and they got the hay unloaded within the hour.

  As Wes went back inside, he heard Frank asking her to a local dance.

  "I'd love to. I haven't been to a dance before, so I might step on your feet." She told him with a chuckle.

  "That's alright, I'll teach you everything you need to know."

  "Promise?" she asked with a smile.

  "Promise. I'll pick you up about six, next Saturday then."

  "No, I don't think that would be good. I'm a widow and people would talk, me letting a man court her so soon. I'll meet you there." she agreed.

  "Of course, you are right about that."

  Not long after they got back on the road, Wes seemed irritated. She noticed but kept quiet.

  "Well, you got a date to the dance, huh?" he finally said, with an edge to his voice.

  "Yeah, I did. Isn't it nice? You told me I should pay more attention to him, and I did."

  "That's nice. That's good. You need to meet more of the people in this area. Maybe he can suggest someone to work for you when I leave." Wes told her.

  The thought of Wes leaving though hit her below the stomach. Was he rushing off now that she'd found someone that might court her?

  Had she done the right thing? She wondered. She'd never done anything like this before and she certainly didn't know how to dance.

  She hoped she wasn't in over her head.

  "Maybe he can." She answered. "I've never gone to a dance before. Do you think you could teach me?"

  "Teach you? Are you kidding me?"

  "No, of course not."

  "Well, I guess someone should. You don't want to step on his toes."

  "No, I don't. I've read all kinds of books, Wes. But I've never learned too many social manners."

  "I guess we can do it then… " He offered.

  "Good. I don't want everyone thinking I’m a hillbilly, do I?"

  "No, I guess not."

  That Thursday she went to her quilting party at Mrs. Tate's and she told her about the dance.

  "Frank Campbell, he's that rich rancher on the other side of Tooley isn't he?"

  "That's right. Do you know much about him?"

  "Well, just that he's the most eligible bachelor in the area. A lot of girls want to dance with him."

  "Why last year, he was courting Joan Smithers. Wonder what happened to her?" Mrs. Collins asked.

  "Joan moved off with her folks. I guess he didn't think enough of her to ask her to wed." Annie chuckled.

  "Is he a confirmed bachelor?" Kate asked.

  "So far, yes. But you never know." Annie chuckled.

  Kate thought about that for a while. It didn't matter to her if he was a confirmed bachelor. She doubted their dancing would go much further than that.

  But it might give Wes some food for thought.

  She'd never made Jim jealous all the time she knew him. And maybe she should have. Maybe then he'd realize he was getting a pretty nice girl.

  But before she left the quilting party Annie pulled her aside. "Listen come over tomorrow or the next day whenever you can, and we'll start making you a new dress to wear
to the dance."

  "Oh, but I really don't have the money to spend yet." Kate told her truthfully.

  "Doesn't matter, I've got a dress, and I bet if I took it in for you, you could wear it. It's a dark, dark red, and I bet it would look lovely on you."

  "Alright, I'll get Wes or Dickens to drive me over."

  "How's that foot?"

  "Better, I can actually walk on it a bit, but I kind of like being carried around." Kate chuckled.

  "So there is more to Wes Dolan than we all thought."

  "Well, I think so, but I've got to see what he thinks."

  "Are you purposely making him jealous."

  "A bit, I hope." Kate laughed.

  "Good. It does men good to know you have options." Annie chuckled.

  Wes came inside and picked her up and carried her to the wagon. Kate didn't mind at all. In fact, the nearer she was to him, the more she liked it. But it sure made him uncomfortable.

  "So did you have a good time?" Wes asked as he drove the wagon home.

  "Yes, I did. We got a lot done; we're making a quilt for a little gal in Tooley who is newly married."

  "That's nice," he muttered.

  "Yes, and Annie's going to fit one of her dresses to me, so I'll have something presentable to wear to the dance."

  "Oh, is she?" Wes didn't sound as pleased about that, and Kate thought it amusing.

  "Isn't that nice of her."

  "Yeah, nice." Wes repeated.

  "Well, I don't want to go looking like a rag doll, you know." Kate told him.

  "No, of course not."

  "Can you take me over there tomorrow?"

  "Sure, why not." Wes managed tightly.

  "Well," she glanced at his frowning face. "If you don't want to then I can get Dickens to."

  "Dickens can't carry you." Wes told her.

  "Well, my foot's well enough, don't you think?"

  "Alright, alright, Dickens can take you then."

  "Whatever, just don't want to bother you all the time."

  "You aren't bothering me."

  "You know, you could even go into town at night if you wanted to. We are about done with the hay for now." She told him.

  "If I wanted to go into town, I would, Kate."

  "It's just a suggestion, I thought you'd be pleased."