Promise Me Tomorrow

by Lori Wick

  “Are you having dessert, Quin? They have chocolate cake.”

  The little boy shook his head and said honestly, “I’m too full.”

  “I’m full too,” Rusty agreed. She took another sip of her coffee and watched as Mr. McCandles returned to the table. They were dining at the Clausen House, and he had spotted someone with whom he needed to speak and left them for a moment.

  “How about dessert?” he asked of Rusty and his son.

  Rusty was on the verge of telling him they were too full, but she’d been trying not to talk too much so father and son would have a chance to get to know each other.

  “Quintin?” his father pressed.

  “I’m full.”

  “Oh, all right. How about you, Katherine?”

  “None for me, thank you.”

  “Well then, I guess it’s off to the barber.”

  As he’d been doing since they left Briarly, Chase took charge. Rusty had no qualms over this. In some ways it was nice to have someone else take responsibility. She didn’t know that Chase had not been ready to leave the papers he’d been working on, and in order to stay focused on the needs of his son, he was being rather stern with himself. In turn, he was a bit stern with Rusty and Quintin.

  The barbershop was not far from the restaurant. The threesome walked the distance, and other than Rusty telling Quintin not to lag behind, they didn’t speak. All this ended at the barber’s door. When Chase began to walk through the door, Rusty asked, “Were you going to see to Quintin’s haircut, Mr. McCandles?”

  “Yes, I’d planned on it,” he said simply.

  “I think I’ll just go across the street to the dry goods store then,” she felt free to say. “I’ll check back in a while to see if you’re finished.”

  Chase’s gaze turned somewhat fierce, and he looked across the street toward her destination. He was being overly protective again, like the day he wanted to come for her when she started the job. Rusty wondered for just an instant if he expected to see bandits loitering in front of the store and nearly laughed outloud at the thought. Instead, she checked to see if she’d heard him correctly.

  “You did say you would see to Quintin’s haircut, didn’t you, Mr. McCandles?”

  “Yes.” He looked at her now.

  “Then I’ll see you in a little while.”

  “I’ll walk you across the street.”

  “No, you won’t.”

  The words were said softly, but there was no missing the command in Rusty’s voice. Chase turned eyes on her that dared her to challenge him, and Rusty did just that. With eyes holding his, she said, “I’ll see you later.” She then stepped off the boardwalk.

  “Katherine,” Chase called in a voice she could not ignore. She turned back and found him larger than ever since she was standing in the street and he was still on the walk. “You will be in the dry goods store and nowhere else. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Very clear.” Her tone was tolerant.

  “Quintin and I will come to you when we are finished. You will not leave there until we come.”

  This time Rusty only looked at him, very aware Quintin was watching the whole scene. She thought Chase was being ridiculous and wanted to tell him so, but she knew that now was not the time. He spoke before she could say a word one way or the other.

  “Those are your choices—into the barber shop with us, or to the general store and stay there.”

  Rusty gave up. It really wasn’t worth the fight. “I’ll be in the general store,” Rusty said quietly. She moved off and didn’t look back, but she could feel Chase’s eyes on her all the way across.

  Rusty had not been in this particular dry goods store and found it to be wonderful. They had a huge selection of fabric, patterns she’d never seen before, and scores of notions. She was examining some tiny fans when one of the store clerks approached.

  “Those are just in.”

  “Oh, are they?” Rusty replied to the nice young man. “What are they for?”

  “You put them in your hair.”

  “Your hair?” Rusty’s brows winged upward.

  “Yes. May I show you?”

  “Oh, all right.” Rusty found nothing offensive about his manner, and since she’d piled her hair atop her head this day, she could barely feel his fingers as they pushed two little fans into the fat coil of hair. Chase came in as he was finishing, his height letting him spot Rusty immediately, and although he said nothing, his eyes followed the young man’s actions and attention like a hawk watching its prey.

  “Now,” he said kindly, “if you’ll take the hand mirror.” He gave it to Rusty. “I’ll adjust the counter mirror so you can see.” He worked efficiently, and in just a moment Rusty had a view. “What do you think?”

  Rusty smiled. “I think it looks wonderful. What do you think, Quintin? Will my sister like these for her birthday?”

  “For her hair?” the little boy smiled up at her.

  “Yes,” Rusty smiled back, completely blind to how lovely she looked. “Your hair looks nice,” she took a moment to say to Quintin. Then she turned back to the man behind the counter. “I’ll take these,” she said.

  “All right. Will you be wearing them?”

  “No, I’d like them wrapped.” Rusty began to reach for the combs, but the man’s voice stopped her.

  “Here, let me help you.”

  Not wanting to tear her hair down, Rusty turned a little to oblige. She didn’t look at Chase right then, or she’d have seen that he was as stiff as a poker. Moments later the young clerk saw them to the door, and they made their way out of the store, combs in hand.

  “He was nice,” Rusty commented, not having seen anything amiss.

  “I’m surprised he didn’t follow you up the street.”

  Rusty stared at her employer. “You really are a worrier, aren’t you?”

  Chase looked down at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said and meant it.

  “Mother hens never do,” Rusty said with a smile.

  Chase couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She made it sound as if this was his problem. The man’s actions had been completely improper! His voice told of his exasperation.

  “If we’d stayed any longer, Katherine, I think he would have proposed.”

  As she had wanted to do in front of the barbershop, Rusty laughed. Not a light, small laugh, but a Rusty laugh: full and loud.

  Chase, who had not meant to be funny at all, was having a hard time seeing the joke, but Rusty couldn’t stop. She chuckled all the way back to the carriage and even some on the ride home. Between bouts of laughter, she asked Quintin all about his trip to the barber. Listening to him, Chase could not stay in a poor humor. Rusty noticed that her employer’s mood lightened, and by the time the carriage pulled up in front of Briarly, she felt free to question him.

  “Are you angry with me?”

  “No. Are you angry with me?”

  “No, but I think you’re too protective.”

  Chase nodded and didn’t deny it. He’d been telling himself the same thing, all the while realizing it wasn’t at all easy to change.

  They made their way inside, and Mrs. Whitley met them in the front hall. She made over Quintin’s hair for a moment and then turned to Rusty.

  “Rusty, you have visitors. They’re waiting for you in the drawing room.”

  “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Whit.” Rusty’s voice was calm enough, but she turned to exchange a look with Chase. He only lifted his brows and shrugged.

  Rusty looked back toward the drawing room but for some reason didn’t move.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Chase’s voice came softly to her ears, and she immediately turned.

  “Would you?”

  “Certainly.”

  Although she felt a bit apprehensive, Rusty led the way. There was nothing to fear. She stepped into the drawing room and laughed in delight. A moment later she was in Clayton Taggart’s warm embrace.

  36
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  “I wondered why you never answered my last letter,” Rusty said to both Clayton and Jackie, a huge smile on her face. They were on the sofa, and Rusty and Chase had taken two of the overstuffed chairs. “How long have you been planning this?”

  “Since before you were last home,” her mother answered. “You said in your first letter to us that your family and friends would be welcome here, so we kept our plans even though you weren’t at the orphanage.”

  “I’m so glad you did,” Rusty said softly. Indeed, it was wonderful to see them. “How long can you stay?”

  “Until Monday.”

  “Good. Oh, Mother.” Rusty’s voice was suddenly excited. “Has Papa described this room to you?”

  “Yes,” Jackie said fervently. “The bay window sounds marvelous.”

  “It’s gorgeous,” Rusty assured her. “It gives so much light to this room. I’ll have to take you into the gardens outside too. They’re beautiful.”

  “Well, now,” Clayton broke in as soon as Rusty paused. “Whom do we have here?”

  Both Chase and Rusty looked toward the two people who had just walked in the door and found Quintin with Mrs. Whitley.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” she offered, her eyes going back and forth between Rusty and her employer, “but Quintin wants to know if he should have his free play now.”

  A free play period was something new to Chase, so he looked to Rusty. Rusty was looking right back.

  “You don’t mind if he joins us, do you, Mr. McCandles?”

  “Not at all,” Chase replied happily. He felt awful that he’d forgotten his son so swiftly.

  “Come here, Quin.” Rusty held out a hand. Quintin came right to her, and Rusty lifted him into her lap. “Quintin McCandles, I would like to introduce you to my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Taggart.”

  “Hello, Quintin,” Clayton and Jackie both said.

  “Hello,” he said softly.

  “How old are you, Quintin?” Clayton asked. He was practically on the edge of his chair, his eyes intent on this beautiful child.

  “I’m five.”

  “You’re a very big boy.”

  He glanced up at Rusty at that remark, and she smiled at him.

  “Can you tell my parents what we did today?” she suggested.

  Quintin moved to stand on the floor, and this time Rusty let him.

  “We ate chicken, but we didn’t have dessert.”

  “Chicken,” Jackie interjected. “That’s my favorite.”

  “I have a watch,” Quintin couldn’t help but say. The lovely gift had not been far from his thoughts all day.

  “You do?” Clayton asked. “May we see it?”

  Quintin went right over to the sofa and carefully withdrew the watch from his pocket.

  “Well, would you look at that.” Clayton was impressed. “May I hold it in my hand, Quintin?”

  Quintin handed the watch over without a qualm. Clayton studied it and then passed it into Jackie’s hand.

  “It’s a miniature,” she said softly. “This is wonderful, Quintin. Was it a gift?”

  The little boy nodded. “From my father. It was his.”

  “It’s so small and perfect,” Jackie said, still “seeing” it in the palm of her hand. “You must be so happy to have it.”

  As she had been doing off and on since they’d sat down, Rusty glanced from Quintin and her parents to Chase and once again found his eyes on her. His gaze was a bit intense, and not for the first time Rusty wondered if she’d done something wrong.

  It was so different here. At the orphanage her duties were well-delineated, but at Briarly so much was left up to the moment and day. And now with Mr. McCandles’ change toward his son, she felt even more uncertain than she had before. When should she step in, and when should she hold back? Then there was the scene in town. She had all but defied him outside the barbershop.

  “I think,” Jackie mentioned quietly, “that I would like to freshen up a bit.”

  “You and Papa can take my room, Mother,” Rusty immediately offered. “I’ll sleep in Quintin’s.”

  “The guest room is all made up,” Chase quietly put in. “I think your parents will be quite comfortable in there, Katherine.”

  “Oh, all right.” Rusty had a sudden idea. “Quintin, would you mind showing my parents where the guest room is? I’ll come along in a few minutes.”

  “Yes, Aunt Rusty.”

  “Thank you, Chase,” Clayton said as they stood.

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. McCandles,” Jackie added.

  Chase had also come to his feet. “You’re welcome. If you need anything at all, you need only ask.”

  Thankfully Chase did not miss the significance of Rusty’s orders to his son, and as Quintin led Jackie and Clayton from the room, he hung back with Quintin’s companion. She watched her parents leave with their small escort and turned to find Chase’s eyes on her once again.

  “Is everything all right, Katherine?”

  “I think so.”

  “Did you need something?”

  “Only to ask you a question.”

  Chase gestured with his hand and indicated one end of the davenport. He took the chair nearest her after she’d seated herself.

  “Mr. McCandles, may I assume that you’ll tell me if something is wrong; that is, if you’re not pleased with me or my performance?”

  “Absolutely,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “Has something made you think I was unhappy?”

  Rusty moved her hands restlessly, clearly uncomfortable with mentioning what was on her mind. She was grateful when Chase understood.

  “Is it because I stared at you just now, or because of what happened in town?”

  “A little of both, I guess,” she said softly, eyes on her lap, feeling very embarrassed.

  She had turned her head just enough so that Chase was given a perfect view of her right ear. It was as bright as a cherry. The conversation in Boulder, the one with Rusty and her mother, came flooding back to him. The temptation to say something very warm and personal to her right now was strong, but he pushed it away.

  “I owe you an apology, Katherine,” Chase began instead, and Rusty looked at him. “I’m simply horrible when it comes to telling someone they’ve done well. I’m more than willing to point out mistakes, but my inner attitude of ‘no news is good news’ doesn’t help anyone know when I’m pleased. You’re doing a wonderful job. I’m delighted with the changes I see in Quintin and the way you’ve helped me.”

  Rusty nodded, pleased that he was not upset with her, but there was more. “And our words in town—” she began, “are you upset with me over that?”

  “I’m not upset with you, but I still don’t know how I feel about it,” Chase admitted. “You seem comfortable wandering around town at will. For the most part it’s very safe, but I’m just not sure you’re as cautious as you need to be.”

  “I’m not completely without fear, Mr. McCandles, but I can’t let it control me. Too many times in my life I’ve been afraid of things, and I wanted to do better this time. I want to stand up to anyone who might threaten me and not cower in fear.”

  Rusty found Chase sitting next to her almost before she saw him move.

  “Please tell me you’re not going to do that, Katherine. Please tell me it’s just a thought and not a plan. Please tell me you’ll yell for the police as you said you would.”

  He was very close, his head bent so he could speak directly into her face. She met his eyes and wondered why she never noticed what a dark brown they were.

  “Katherine?”

  “It’s not a plan,” she said, pulling her mind back to the present subject. “And I would never do anything foolish, but I do wonder how I could do better than I did in Makepeace.”

  “Katherine,” Chase returned, working to keep his voice calm, “my imagination does crazy things when you make statements like that. I picture you walking into some alley, just to take on anyone who might be loitering there.”
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  “I wouldn’t do that,” Rusty said calmly.

  Chase sighed. He still hadn’t scared her, which in truth is what he’d hoped to do. He admitted as much and watched Rusty’s chin go into the air. It looked as if they were headed into another battle.

  “You were trying to scare me?” She was outraged.

  With one long finger, Chase pushed Rusty’s chin back into place. He then addressed her with maddening calm.

  “You have a very nice chin, Miss Taggart, and you can point it at me anytime you like, but before we start shouting at each other, will you please tell me you understand the severity of this issue? By your own admission you tend to be impulsive, so will you please tell me you’re not going to take it into your head to confront the next man who acts improperly toward you.”

  “All right,” she agreed, still sounding as if she was searching for another method. “If I decide to stand up to someone, I’ll make sure you know.”

  “That’s not exactly what I meant,” Chase replied, realizing what he had said.

  “Well, it’s the best I can do.” The stubborn look was back on her face.

  “No, it isn’t,” Chase argued. “You can tell me you’re not going to do this at all.”

  “Are we headed into another huge fight?”

  “No, but I want to make sure you don’t end up helpless in an alley again.”

  Rusty stopped. The word “helpless” got her attention like nothing else could. She had been utterly powerless with her back against that building and those men in front of her, and it was not something she wanted to repeat.

  “I won’t do anything rash.”

  “Thank you.” Chase sat back, knowing she was good as her word. He also had to lighten this conversation—talks with Rusty that went along this vein were going to result in someone’s heart failure: his.