Promises Reveal

by Sarah McCarty

  By the time she came even with the alley below the saloon, the cowboy hadn’t moved, but others—his friends she hoped—came stumbling out of the saloon. Another dirty wrangler with too much to drink knelt in the dirt beside him. He poked his friend. She didn’t think he was going to have much luck getting him to move. The man was clearly unconscious.

  A board creaked under her foot. The friend glanced up and gave her a lopsided smile. “Hi, pretty lady, why don’t you come join us?”

  In the middle of the dirt and refuse? She shuddered and turned her face away. It didn’t stop his comments from following. How in heaven’s name could Nidia’s ladies bear to entertain men like that, night after night?

  A glance over her shoulder revealed he wasn’t following. That was a relief. Still, she’d feel a lot safer once she got past the alley on the opposite side of the saloon. Movement in the shadows to the right caught her eye. It only took a second to make out who it was. Gray, and he was watching the wrangler. Obviously he’d been prepared to intercede if necessary. She shook her head. The boy took too many chances for his age, took on too many responsibilities. His gaze, when it met hers, was stern—shades of his father and his uncle. She sighed. Shades of the man he would one day be.

  She ignored the implied order to go home and hurried on. The streets at night really weren’t safe for a woman alone. It wasn’t any more safe for Gray. Looking over her shoulder again, she expected to see Gray heading toward his horse and his own home. Instead, he ducked into the dark alley she’d just passed, carrying something wrapped in linen. An eleven-year-old boy should be nowhere near an alley beside a saloon at any time, no matter how much he thought he could take care of himself. Casting a longing glance down the street toward the warm glow of lights from the homes comprising the better end of town, she sighed and turned back to the harsh reality of Cattle Crossing in full celebration. She couldn’t leave Gray alone to do whatever he was doing. She’d never be able to face Jenna if anything happened to the boy.

  This time when she crossed the street she wasn’t as lucky as before. A squish and a foul odor alerted her to the fact that what she’d thought was the up end of a rut in the street was actually a pile of horse dung. Ugh! She scuffed her shoe along the dirt, watching the alley in case Gray came out. That boy officially owed her now. If not the cost of new shoes, at least a bit more caution in his behavior.

  The alley was little more than a narrow slit between the saloon and the undertaker’s next door. The juxtaposition of the two buildings had always amused her; now it just seemed particularly ominous. The stench of urine and chemicals mixed to form a noxious odor. She put her forearm against her nose. Ahead she could see Gray standing with his back to her. There was an unnatural stillness about him that alerted her to the fact that he wasn’t alone. Ducking back into the shadows, she watched.

  “You shouldn’t be out here.”

  “It’s quiet here.”

  Only if quiet was a relative term, Evie thought.

  “It’s not safe.”

  “It’s as safe as anywhere else. Besides, I knew you were coming.”

  The voice was female and very young. Maybe the girl Gray had been talking to before?

  “No, you didn’t.”

  There was the sound of a huge sigh. “You always come.”

  “So?” That belligerent response sounded like an eleven-year-old boy.

  “So I knew you would come tonight, too.”

  “I won’t come tomorrow.”

  “Oh.”

  It was a very disappointed “oh.” Even Evie felt for her, and she didn’t even know the girl. “It’s probably good. My mother’s new friend gets angry when I talk to other people.”

  Gray seemed to tense. “Brenna, what did you do?”

  “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Well, don’t. You’re just a little girl.”

  Around Gray’s side, Evie could make out the jut of an elbow at about midthigh. A very skinny elbow that had to be attached to a small child. It wasn’t hard to imagine a little girl with her hands on her hips, glaring at Gray. Eventually Gray drove everyone to glare at him. He knew too much for a boy his age and tended to deliver that knowledge with an arrogance that grated.

  “I’m not just anything.”

  “Are you just a little hungry?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Good. I brought you some supper.”

  “Biscuits?” It was a very hopeful question.

  “Yeah, but I can’t bring you biscuits tomorrow. Jenna will get suspicious if I keep asking for them.”

  “No, she won’t. She’ll just be happy that you give her something to do for you. She loves you.”

  “Uh-huh. She loves everybody.”

  “She doesn’t love me.”

  Evie got her first glimpse of the little girl as she hopped up on top of a crate. It was more of a shadow than a real view, but it was enough to determine she was even more slender and small than Evie had imagined. It was easy to see why Gray felt protective of her. Evie didn’t even know her, and she felt protective.

  “She would if she met you.” Gray handed her the packet. She shook her head as she opened it, her pigtails flopping around her face, glints of red catching the faint light from the upstairs windows.

  “That wouldn’t be safe. My father doesn’t like people to love me.” Holding up the small pile of food, she asked, “Do you want some?”

  “You eat it. You need it more.”

  She sighed. “You think I’m too skinny.”

  “I think you need someone to take better care of you.”

  “When you’re older, you can.”

  “If I were older, they wouldn’t let me.”

  Brenna paused, the biscuit halfway to her mouth. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re white.”

  “That’s silly.”

  With a sigh of his own, Gray motioned with his hand. “Just eat.”

  She took a bite. “Ouch.”

  Gray immediately stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing important.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I never lie.”

  Evie lost sight of the girl as Gray stepped between them. “You have a bruise.”

  “Just a little one. It’s not important.”

  The single-minded intensity was back in Gray’s voice. “Who hit you?”

  “I told you he gets mean.”

  “Your mother’s friend?”

  She shrugged. “I talk too much. It hurts his head.”

  Gray’s hand went to the hilt of the big knife Cougar had given him over Jenna’s objections. “You do not talk too much.”

  There was a cold flatness to the statement that sent a shiver down Evie’s spine. He sounded just as Cougar had when he’d said he was going hunting for Brad’s attackers. It had sounded natural on Cougar. The scary thing was it sounded equally natural on Gray.

  “I’m fine, Gray. You don’t need to be mad.”

  He tipped her small face up. From here, Evie couldn’t see any sign of a bruise, but the touch of Gray’s thumb to the little girl’s cheek was eloquent. “The bastard.”

  “You’re not supposed to use words like that around me.”

  Gray dropped his hand. “I’m sorry.”

  Evie smiled at the reprimand and Gray’s response. Whomever the precocious little girl was, she was special to Gray.

  Brenna patted the crate beside her as she took a bite of the biscuit. “You can sit with me.”

  Gray looked around. Evie hugged the wall so he wouldn’t see her. “I’d better not.”

  Brenna’s feet stopped swinging and the hand holding the biscuit dropped into her lap. “Oh.”

  “Oh what?”

  “You think I’m ugly, too.”

  Evie couldn’t prevent her gasp. Fortunately, Gray’s curse covered the betraying sound.

  “That was a very bad word,” Brenna reproached, not looking at him.

  “Sorry.”
He sat beside her. “Who told you that you were ugly?”

  “The other kids, when they wouldn’t let me play.” Kicking her foot Brenna muttered almost too low for Evie to hear. “They called me an ‘ugly, freckled whore’s get.’ ”

  The brats! The light was getting dimmer. Evie had to strain to see, but it looked as though Gray put his arm around his friend’s shoulders.

  “I like your freckles.”

  “I tried to get rid of them, but they won’t come off.”

  Evie’s heart clenched in her chest. Brenna couldn’t be more than five or six. Too young to be called such names, too young to have to feel the pain of being ostracized.

  “Don’t try anymore.”

  “But if I didn’t have freckles, kids wouldn’t think I was ugly and they’d play with me.”

  For an awful moment, Evie thought Gray was going to explain the real reason the other kids wouldn’t play with her. When he didn’t, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “What are those creatures your God sends down to help people?” he asked.

  Brenna took another bite of biscuit and thought on it. “You mean angels?”

  “Yeah. Angels. I think of your freckles like the kisses of angels over your face.”

  The tattoo of the little girl’s shoes against the crate took up a happier beat. “That’s pretty.”

  “So are you.”

  Brenna and Gray fell silent. The muted sounds of merriment from the saloon underscored the rap of Brenna’s heels. The two children sat in companionable silence as Brenna finished the last of her meal, wiping her mouth with the napkin. Sometime in the child’s life someone had instilled manners.

  Folding the napkin, she handed it back to Gray. “I suppose you have to go now.”

  Gray nodded. “It would be bad for you if someone saw me here.”

  “Because your skin isn’t white?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t care.” Her small hand covered his, pale and tiny, barely visible in the dim light, emphasizing the difference between them even as it communicated the similarities, the bond. “I think you’re beautiful, too.”

  “Oh, darn.” The exclamation just popped out. Gray’s head whipped in Evie’s direction. She didn’t know if he saw her. The saloon door opened. Light spilled into the alley as someone came out, capturing Gray with his arm around Brenna for whomever stood in the doorway to see.

  “What in hell is going on here?”

  Gray leapt to his feet. Brenna shrieked. Evie was frozen in place as a big bear of a man stepped into the tiny alley. Bull. And from the way he slurred the word hell, he was inebriated.

  “Get away from that Indian, girl.”

  Gray grabbed Brenna and shoved her behind him, standing tall in a foolish display of courage, because the man was easily a foot taller and over a hundred pounds heavier.

  “Don’t you touch him,” Brenna screamed, trying to get around Gray.

  “I’ll do more than touch him.” Bull cracked his knuckles.

  “Stay behind me!” Gray ordered, blocking her jump forward with his arm.

  “No! He’ll hurt you.”

  “Damn straight I’m going to hurt him. He’s got no right even looking at a white girl, let alone touching her.”

  “And you have no right to touch her,” Gray snarled back.

  Bull smiled. “I’ve got a hell of a lot more right than you.”

  It was such an evil smile. Evie dug in her reticule for the gun as Gray’s deadly quiet “No longer” reached her in a chilling prelude to violence. The bullets clanked against the metal. She snagged two. Damn Asa and his lessons. If he hadn’t scared her so, the gun would be loaded and she wouldn’t be fumbling in the dark.

  In the split second it took to get the gun clear of the reticule, Brenna darted around Gray, kicking at Bull’s legs for all she was worth. Bull grabbed her, yanked her off her feet, and tossed her behind him. She went flying through the air like a doll, mouth open in a silent cry. Her scream broke as her head hit the wood. She crumpled to the ground. Gray lunged with a snarl, his knife flashing in a lethal arc. Evie held her breath, fearing the worst. What if he killed him? What if he didn’t?

  Even inebriated, Bull was more than a match for the boy and knocked his arm aside. Instead of a lethal blow, the blade carved a path through Bull’s thigh with a nauseating, whispering swish.

  Bull should have gone down. It didn’t make sense that he didn’t, but he stood, blood gushing from his thigh, and knocked Gray aside with the same devastating strength with which he’d tossed Brenna. The boy hit the ground hard and then rolled, springing to his feet, his long black hair flying about his face, the bloody knife clenched in his hand, his lips drawn back from his teeth. The word he spat when he saw Bull crouched in an equally aggressive posture between him and Brenna needed no translation.

  Dear God, Evie had to do something and she had to do it now. Throwing the reticule and bullets to the side she hurried forward, empty gun brandished as if she meant business. Which she did.

  Brenna moaned and sat up. Bull took a step back. Gray took two forward.

  “Get away from her.”

  Bull wiped the blood from his hand on his shirt. “Not killing me was a mistake, injun.”

  “One I will not make again.”

  Brenna stood. Her face, with its multitude of freckles and big green eyes, was starkly pale and strangely expressionless as she swayed. “I’ll go in now, Mr. Braeger.”

  “You will come to me, Brenna.”

  The little girl took one small step and then another, away from Gray. The acceptance in her voice hurt Evie’s heart. “He’ll hurt you, and I’ll have to go anyway.”

  “You’ve got that right.”

  Gray’s response was another of those words she didn’t need an interpreter to understand, but he didn’t look away from Brenna. “I will keep you safe.”

  Her next step was smaller than the previous two, but it still took her a bit farther from Gray. “You promise?”

  “Yes.”

  It was a big promise for a boy to make, but Evie didn’t doubt he meant it, just as she knew he was going to need help keeping it.

  With a small cry, Brenna ran for him. He caught her hand. Bull caught the other. Neither let go, leaving the child stretched between them.

  “Get back here, brat.”

  “Leave her alone,” Evie ordered.

  As if she wasn’t standing there with a gun leveled at his heart, Bull ignored her. It wasn’t a surprise. Never a big thinker, Bull lost all sense when his temper ignited. Evie took another step forward, angling in so she was between Bull and the children. “You are a very rude man, Bull Braeger.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “With a very filthy mouth.”

  Gray lunged forward as Bull yanked on Brenna, riding the momentum like a game of whiplash, stabbing downward when he drew even with Bull, laughing when the man hollered and let go, blood gushing from his arm this time. Scooping up Brenna, Gray ran toward Evie.

  “Where did you come from?” he gasped as he ducked behind her.

  She kept her eyes on Bull. “I was curious as to what you were up to.”

  “Uh-huh.” He reached for the gun. “The Reverend won’t be happy.”

  She jerked the revolver out of his reach. “If you don’t tell him, he’ll never know.”

  “He’ll know.” That long-suffering truth came from Brenna. “They always know when you’re bad.”

  It was very hard to imagine the sweet-looking child who reminded her of a fairy as bad. “Well, we can at least try.” She turned back to Bull. “Don’t move another step.”

  His fleshy face florid, his eyes narrowed as beads of sweat dripped down from his hairline, he reminded Evie more of a pig than a bull.

  “Then pull the trigger.”

  She would have pulled the trigger long before now if there were bullets in the gun. “Don’t push me.”

  “Shoot!” Gray ordered.

  “Shut up,” she
hissed at him. “You take one more step, Bull, and I swear, I’ll pull this trigger.”

  The threat didn’t have the desired effect. Bull just tossed her a mocking smile. “The Reverend’s little wife threatening to commit murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aren’t you afraid of burning in hell?”

  “I’m more afraid of you right now.” That was the truth.

  “You oughta be.”

  With a blink, she realized Bull had a revolver of his own, bigger than hers, and it was pointed right at her chest. When had Bull pulled the gun? The round opening in the muzzle seemed cannon sized, and getting bigger every second that she stared at it.

  He took one step, two, a sneer twisting his features when the shaking inside spread to her hands. The pistol wobbled. Gray swore again in some language she didn’t understand and yanked the gun from her hand, knocking her aside.

  “No!”

  He pulled the trigger. The hammer clinked uselessly. Bull’s laughter froze, and then when he realized what had happened, he sneered. “Ought to make sure your weapon’s loaded, boy.”

  Gray didn’t move as Bull leveled his own weapon, just stood where he was, drawing the fire to himself, Evie realized. Inside a scream built. Brad’s name. Dear God. They needed help.

  The saloon door opened again. A much smaller figure stepped into the alley. Nidia’s gaze narrowed as she took in the scene and then her expression dissolved into a sultry pout and she gingerly stepped into the alley.

  “Querido, what do you do out here in this smelly place?”

  Evie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as the madam sashayed forward, her full hips swinging, her red lips pursed in a pout. “I wait inside for you, I turn many men away, and still I sit alone until others laugh and say I cannot hold my man.”

  “I’ll be back inside shortly.”

  Nidia’s dark eyes darted between the gun, the children, and Evie. Disdain flickered across her beautiful, sensual face before she slid her small hands around Bull’s beefy forearm. The one holding the gun. “You need to come in now.”

  “I said, get your ass back inside.”

  Nidia leaned her full breasts against his arm. “Surely this silly woman and these children do not hold any appeal for a man such as you?”

  The move caused her breasts to billow so far out of their confines, Evie wanted to slap her hands over Gray’s eyes.