Promise Kept

by Mitzi Pool Bridges

  As he tried to draw Phyl into a conversation, it made her more and more uneasy. It was an effort to keep from pulling her cap down further. Keeping a low profile was imperative. Yet, here she was in the middle of town talking to a stranger who made her skin crawl. She couldn’t let her fear for their safety make her careless. Coming to town any day was careless, on auction day, worse.

  “I didn’t run you off, did I?” he asked as Mary put the books in a bag.

  “Not at all,” Phyl lied.

  “Don’t you work for the Callahans?”

  The chill turned to ice.

  Seeing the look on her face, he added, “Gossip,” he explained. “Part of living in a small town, I guess. Even a—what do you call it?—greenhorn like me hears it all.”

  Her nerves tightened. How could she stay hidden when everyone in town knew the Callahans had a woman working on the ranch?

  They don’t know you’re here. How could they?

  She put the change in the pocket of her jeans. “Thanks,” she said and nodded to Mary.

  Thankfully, Nellie was crossing the street toward them. Phyl wanted to get back to the ranch as fast as possible. It wasn’t safe here. Despite the hot weather, she shivered.

  She couldn’t be careful enough, not with a killer’s threat still ringing in her head.

  Maybe it was time to run again. Now that Donovan was back, there was no reason to wait.

  “Where’s Donovan?” Mark asked Nellie when she joined them.

  Phyl looked at her son with trepidation, turned toward the bookstore. The man stood at the window staring after them.

  When they eventually found Donovan, she was still nervous and her thoughts were scattered. It wouldn’t pay for the wrong person to connect her to a murder in California.

  Chapter Six

  “Why can’t I ride Lily?” Mark whined a couple of hours later. He and Phyl were in their room at the ranch. Donovan had suggested they take the day off so he could catch up on the paperwork.

  “Because you’re too young to go by yourself,” Phyl reminded him.

  “Donovan can come with me,” he sniffed.

  “Donovan has other things to do.”

  “I’ll ask him.” He whirled around to run out of the bedroom. She lunged for him, barely grabbing him before he made it to the door.

  “Mark, how many times do I have to tell you to stop bothering Donovan? He’s much too busy to entertain you.”

  “But he said…”

  She looked at her son’s face, at the disappointment, at the hurt. Why couldn’t he have this time to enjoy himself? Who knew where they would go next? Or when? “Why don’t I go with you? We’ll ride to the pond in the west pasture and back.”

  Smiling now, Mark raced downstairs, Phyl behind him.

  She paused when she heard a loud noise. It stopped abruptly and she hurried after Mark.

  She was at the back door ready to leave when she heard Donovan’s voice. When her heart kicked up a notch, she frowned. She was getting as bad as her son. Her fingers trembled as she pulled her ponytail through the hole in her baseball cap. She wasn’t attracted to him, she told herself. An attraction would be a distraction she didn’t need or want.

  Mark raced for the barn, the dogs at his heels. She would have to hurry. She didn’t want him out there alone.

  She almost made it through the door when Donovan stopped her. “Phyl, do you have a minute?”

  Turning, she was surprised to see a tall, lanky young man walk into the kitchen behind him. She went weak with fear. Then she gave the stranger another look. He seemed innocent enough as he turned his worn Stetson around and around in his hand. But how could you really tell?

  “Phyl, I want you to meet a young man I met in town, Cal Wiley.” He turned to Cal. “This is the woman I was telling you about, Phyl Leander.”

  “So you’re the one who made all that racket. Do you always make such a dramatic entrance?” she asked.

  His hat twisting in his hands, Cal ducked his head and smiled. “People do hear me coming.” For a minute he didn’t seem to know what to do next, then the hat twirling stopped, and he stuck out a hand in greeting.

  “I’d like to hire Cal to get the next bunch of cows ready for auction.”

  Maybe this was Donovan’s way of easing her out. “We can handle it.”

  “We need to get them ready as soon as possible. We can use an extra hand. Cal isn’t too experienced, but he can sit a horse and isn’t afraid of hard work. What do you think?”

  He was asking her opinion?

  She hoped her mouth wasn’t open in astonishment. From outside, she heard Mark yelling for her to hurry up.

  Once more, she gave Cal a hard look. His eyes were full of eagerness. He really wanted this job. Did he want it to get closer to her and Mark? The thought made her look closer. He was clean-cut, clothes pressed, boots new. Could he be what they called a ringer? Someone who wasn’t what he appeared to be? She just didn’t know.

  She didn’t want strangers here. And being the hired help didn’t give her a real voice in hiring or firing. Donovan could do what he liked, but she still shouldn’t have gone into town. First the uncle, now this kid...plus the creepy guy in the bookstore.

  She’d made a big mistake.

  She forced herself to shrug. “It’s your ranch. You can do what you want.”

  Donovan grinned. And despite the beard, the smile transformed his face.

  “Mark’s waiting,” she said, as she backed out the door.

  Phyl’s nerves didn’t settle down until they pulled their horses up at the pond.

  She shook her head at her own uncertainties. One minute she thought she should leave, the next she was afraid she’d have to.

  The truth was that if circumstances permitted, she’d stay here forever. Looking around, she took in the vast open space, the deep blue sky, the sparkling water a few feet away. The old homestead sat close by, and with its gingerbread trim looked as if it came straight out of a fairy tale. She wondered what had taken Donovan away from this paradise.

  Mark moved Lily closer to the pond.

  “Careful. You’re getting too close to the water.”

  He sent her a frown, but pulled Lily away a few inches. Was Mark just being a kid? Or was he becoming more like his dad? Not now. Not this young. She had a lot of years yet to shape him into the man she hoped he’d be. When she’d met Victor in college, she’d been taken in, not by his looks, though he was quite handsome, but by what she took as an intense drive to better himself. After they were married she discovered how wrong she’d been. Victor was full of words, full of ideas, full of everything except the ability to follow through.

  Though he’d promised she could finish school she’d had to quit and go to work. If she hadn’t, they would have starved. Victor was too busy trying out one get-rich-quick scheme after another to keep a job. It had been a bitter lesson.

  What made it worse was his appetite for the good life. He wanted the best money could buy as long as she paid for it.

  She watched Mark as he once more led Lily close to the water’s edge.

  “That’s it, Mark. If you can’t obey, we’ll go back to the house.” She refused to let Mark turn into another Victor.

  “Mo…om,” he wailed.

  “No. You were told.”

  “I promise to be good,” he begged.

  “Let’s go.” She started back the way they’d come only to see Donovan and the new kid, Cal, heading toward them.

  Mark gave Lily a bump with his foot. “Who’s that with Donovan?”

  Phyl didn’t bother to answer as Mark had already pulled Lily up next to Stormy. She watched them. Cal seemed as happy as Mark. Was he for real or a good actor? Donovan was sober-faced until Mark pulled up next to him, then his face broke into a smile.

  With his Stetson low on his forehead, that dark beard and his devilish smile, no wonder her heart did the tango. This had to stop. Now.

  Donovan touched his Stetson with o
ne finger; Cal took his off.

  “Hi again,” Cal said.

  “Who are you?” Mark asked.

  Cal laughed. “I’m the new hired help. Call me Cal.”

  “I’m Mark. Are you going to work here?”

  “I am.”

  “Where are you staying?”

  “Donovan said I could stay in the homestead or the room in the barn. I decided to take the barn.”

  “Whatcha’ going to do?”

  Donovan chuckled. Phyl liked the rumble of it. Darn. What didn’t she like about the man? Okay. He could do without the beard.

  “He’s going to help with the cattle,” Donovan explained.

  “Does that mean you’ll have more time to go riding?” Mark asked Donovan.

  Donovan shot a glance toward her. Phyl shrugged.

  “Maybe,” he said. “Right now, I’m showing Cal the ranch.”

  “Can I come?”

  “Mark. We’re going to the house. You know why. Turn Lily around and move.”

  Mark’s shoulders drooped, his head hung low. Donovan gave her a questioning look. She shook her head. Not today. He wasn’t going to make her change her mind. Mark had to learn. Self-discipline was a difficult concept, but it started with obeying rules.

  Mark pouted in silence as they rode back to the house.

  He went straight to their room. Phyl followed. They needed to talk. Now was a good time.

  “You won’t let me do anything,” Mark accused. “I’m not a baby.”

  She went to his cot where he sat with his arms crossed over his chest. Sitting beside him, she tried to explain. “You’re growing up, Mark. Before we know it, you’ll be a young man.”

  He glared at her.

  Inwardly, she had to admit she understood how he felt. “Part of growing up is learning right from wrong.”

  “I know right from wrong.”

  She ran a hand over his head, ruffled his hair. “That’s good. But obeying the rules is part of that.”

  Tears glimmered in his eyes. Maybe she was being too hard on him. He didn’t complain when she got him up early so she could do her job. Didn’t complain when she packed his breakfast and juice to eat later when he got hungry. He didn’t complain when she kept him so close. She didn’t want to smother him. She just wanted to keep him safe.

  At their home in California, Mark had a special hiding place. “Would you like to play our hiding game here, now that we know where everything is?”

  He perked up. “I think I know where I can hide, but you’ll have to give me time to get there.”

  Phyl chuckled. “I’ll double it. Then…I’m going to get you.”

  “Shut your eyes, Mom.”

  She heard him giggling as he left the room. A hiding place was good. If the need ever arose, he could go there until help came.

  For the first time she wondered if she should tell Nellie or Donovan her background. They could be in danger, too. She had to think about it. Once they heard her story, would they ask them to leave? Could she take the risk?

  ****

  The next few days were filled with work. There was no time to do more than sleep, eat, and work some more. For the first time she left Mark with Nellie. Each day his whining intensified. He wanted to be part of the roundup. With the roping, branding, and herding the cattle, he could get hurt. For now, he was safe with Nellie—for now, that was enough.

  Surprisingly, Cal brightened her days. He did nothing to further her suspicions, just asked a million ranch questions that she let Donovan answer. He knew little about ranching, but was so eager to learn that no one could fault him. Once he was shown how to do a job, he did it. In a few months, he’d be pretty good. His sense of humor along with his innocent adulation of both Donovan and herself seemed to make her days less tiring.

  For hours at a time she actually forgot why she was here. She simply did her job, ate the food Nellie put in front of her, and fell into bed each night exhausted, until the next morning when it started all over again.

  Occasionally, she’d look up to find Donovan staring at her. She didn’t know what he was thinking. She only knew that every time she caught his eye a flash of heat swept over her.

  What made her think she could do this work by herself? She’d been on roundups before. It always took more than one person to do the job. Even with the three of them working hard all day it was hot and wearing.

  Today, the sun could “fry your innards” as her dad used to say. She wiped sweat from her brow with the sleeve of her shirt, grabbed a bottle of water.

  Donovan and Cal were just as hot and tired as she was. No one had stopped all morning. Now it was time to break for lunch. She poured water into her hand and wiped her face.

  Donovan gave the signal to head for the nearest tree where they would share the lunch Nellie packed.

  The shade of the ancient oak was more than welcome. Phyl sat on the ground, then, unable to resist, lay back and stretched out. It felt good. She heard Donovan and Cal as they pulled out sandwiches and cold lemonade—heard them laughing about how hungry they were. Then she heard nothing.

  The seconds ticked by.

  “Phyl?”

  The voice came from a distance. Something cold swiped over her face. She sat up; stunned that she’d fallen asleep in the middle of the day when she should be working.

  “C’mon, Phyl. I think you got a little too much sun.”

  She shook her head. The action made her dizzy.

  Looking around in confusion, she saw that she was still under the tree, heard Cal calling out to the calves. Donovan looked at her with apprehension.

  “I’m fine.”

  “No. You’re not. It has to be a hundred and five today. I’m taking you back to the house.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” She took the bottle of cold water, drank some, poured the rest over her face.

  “You’re as red as a tomato. My fault. I should have been more careful. This is heatstroke weather.”

  She wanted to show him she was okay, that she could do her job even in this heat. What kind of rancher couldn’t? She started to get up, staggered. Donovan caught her.

  “Steady,” he said.

  His touch sent flames licking through her in all directions. “This is ridiculous. Give me a minute.”

  “You’re doing a man’s job in heat that would melt wax. I’m taking you to the house.” Seeing the look on her face, he added, “As soon as Cal gets this bunch rounded up, he’s coming in, too. We’re taking the rest of the day off.”

  “We can’t afford to take a day off.”

  Ignoring her, he picked her up as if she weighed no more than a few pounds, whistled for the horses.

  “Put me down, Donovan. I can take care of myself.”

  It was if she hadn’t spoken. Instead of putting her on Skye, the horse she’d been riding since she got here, he put her on Stormy, and climbed up behind her.

  “What are you doing? I was tired and shut my eyes. That’s all.”

  “Right,” he said grimly. He took the reins, leaned down and grabbed Skye’s.

  When he put an arm around her waist, Phyl fought the urge to relax, lean into him, and enjoy the feel of those strong arms supporting her. What would he think if she did? She shut her eyes, held herself rigidly upright. She was in no position to allow herself to feel anything for any man, especially this one.

  ****

  The ride back was pure misery. Donovan berated himself for keeping Phyl in the sun too long. Then cursed himself for wanting to hold her closer. Though she kept her distance, the sway of Stormy beneath them made touching inevitable. Every time he felt her, he wanted more.

  She smelled of soap, sun, and something else. He inhaled deeply. Strawberries! He leaned closer to make sure. Her back went rigid, so he moved his head back a little. He had a sensuous, sexy woman in his arms, and all she wanted to do was get as far away from him as possible.

  What was wrong with him? If he decided to stay, she’d have to leave
. Forget the attraction—forget the kid.

  He’d asked his mom what she knew about the two of them. But all she told him was that Phyl was divorced and needed a job. That wasn’t enough.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she answered stiffly.

  “If you feel faint, let me know.”

  She sat up even straighter. “I didn’t faint.”

  He couldn’t stop the chuckle. She’d never admit to a weakness. Not Phyl. She took on the roughest chores, worked longer and harder than any man or woman he’d ever known. He didn’t know what she was trying to prove. Or if she was trying to prove anything. Perhaps this was just the way she was. If so, she needed to slow down. Texas heat could be a killer.

  He had dated off and on over the years. Nothing serious. All of a sudden, Phyl was bringing up feelings he didn’t want to pursue. So why couldn’t he keep his eyes off of her? Whether she was working in the fields with the calves, or sitting at the dinner table, he found himself watching her. This was the first time he’d touched her. He liked the feel of soft skin and hard muscles. He tightened his arm around her waist, moved his face close to her neck, inhaled that wonderful scent again. He wanted to skim his hands down her body, kiss her.

  He felt her stiffen all over again. Whatever this feeling was, it wasn’t returned. Which was a good thing. At least he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

  In a way, he was glad when the house came into view. In another, he wanted the ride to last forever.

  Nellie and Mark were taking bags of groceries out of the car. Mark ran up to them, Nellie close behind. It was totally out of the norm for them to quit work at noon on a roundup. Definitely unusual to ride in on one horse. Mom would think the worst.

  “What’s wrong?” his mom asked.

  “Nothing,” Phyl answered, sliding off Stormy.

  Donovan tried to help, but she shrugged him away.

  “Phyl got a little too much sun. My fault. She needs to lie down for a while.”

  “Do you need to see a doctor?” Nellie asked, taking Phyl’s arm. “You could have heat exhaustion.” She turned to Donovan. “What did I tell you this morning?”

  “You were right. I should have listened. Put her to bed would you? Mark and I will take care of the groceries and the horses.”