A Texan's Promise (15 page)

"I suppose." Vanessa wasn't really worried about how she'd get along with Corrine. She'd never had a problem getting along with other women in the past, and Vanessa didn't sense things would change in that regard now that she was a married woman.

In addition, the thought of being around such an experienced woman gave her comfort in a surprising way. Her mother had been a wonderful role model until her marriage to Price, but she'd also led a rather sheltered existence. Even during the war Vanessa's father had tried to keep her as safe from harm as possible.

He'd done such a good job that she'd witnessed far fewer painful scenes than most women in her company. Consequently, when Vanessa was a child, she'd rarely viewed the ravages of war as anything other than sad stories.

Vanessa had watched her mother's eyes open wide in the first days of Clayton's arrival to the Circle Z, back when her pa had encouraged Clayton to open up about where he'd been during the war. She, too, had been shocked by the tales he dared to share.

And then she'd been so infatuated with Clayton, little else ever seemed to matter.

Back then, her dreams had been those of a girl, full of tender glances and sweet hugs. She hadn't imagined that love could ever have the full give-and-take of maturity, where there was no black and white, only shades of gray, each melting into the next color so a person wouldn't notice the difference right away.

Now, she knew Clayton for the man he was; not who she'd imagined him to be. And he was still wonderful. And, as sure as the stars laced the sky, she wished things were different. She wished she felt different, like she used to.

Not so scared and jumpy. Not so haunted by another man's hurtful hands. By the memory of another man's anger and pain.

Coco nickered, making Vanessa's thoughts return to the present. And the future. "You never said what we're going to do after we get to Corrine's."

"She and Merritt are going to take care of you."

Take care of her?
"Clayton, what are you talking about? What are you going to do?"

"I'll talk to Merritt and see if he needs me. If not, I'm going to have to find a job."

Vanessa's heart sank as she realized that she'd been so focused on getting to his sister's spread that she'd had little opportunity to think about much other than getting away from Price. "What kind of job?"

"Not sure. Maybe something in the law. That's good money."

That sounded dangerous. "Really?"

"I know how to fire a pistol, and I'm not afraid to kill," Clayton said, though his eyes looked haunted and dark at the possibility. "In some places, that comes in handy."

If money was what they needed, she knew of a better way to get it. Her momma hadn't shared much with her, but she had said enough for Vanessa to know that her daddy had put money aside for Vanessa's future, just in case she needed it. It lay in a bank in town, just waiting for her to claim it.

It would make her feel good to do something for her husband."Clayton, I could wire Miles."

He glanced at her in surprise. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"

"My pa left money for me. Miles could get it transferred."Her voice faded as he glared at her.

"No." The force of his word startled Coco, who danced underfoot for a moment, kicking up dirt and gravel.

Hoping to get Clayton to listen, she prodded Coco forward so they were side by side. "But it could help you, help us—"

"No. Don't contact him, Vanessa. Ever." The dark eyes she knew so well narrowed under the brim of his worn Stetson. "If you contact the bank, Price could come find you."

"I doubt he would go to so much trouble. No doubt he's probably forgotten all about me."

"It hasn't been that long. I doubt Price has even begun to give up on you."

"But that money is mine. Ours. He can't touch it. . . . It's just sitting in the bank. Waiting."

"No. Forget that it even exists. It's part of your past."

His words stung. Part of her wasn't ready to forget about everything before she'd run away. "But—"

His voice hardened. "I won't compromise on this. Don't contact the bank. Ever. You understand?"

Stung, she backed away. "Clearly."

After a moment his voice gentled. "Don't worry about money, sugar. You're my wife. I'll take care of you."

Vanessa patted Coco for comfort, to keep from saying anything, from pointing out the obvious once again. Yes, she knew he could take care of her.

But what he didn't seem to understand was that she wanted to take care of him, too.

Five hours later, they came upon a large log house, its girth spanning an area wide enough to hold two of Circle Z's barns.A small pond sat off to its side, a thicket of thick green pines and starry-leafed aspens hiding it. Within minutes of coming into site, a rider on a shiny black stallion rode forward.

"There's only one palomino that trots like that!" the rider called out. "And that's General Robert E. Lee."

Clayton laughed, all traces of worry erased from his features in a split second. "Merritt, look at you, all spry and eagerness.Coming out to greet us?"

"Your sister wouldn't have it any other way," he said, riding closer.

Vanessa sucked in her breath as she got a closer look at Clayton's brother-in-law. He was a bear of a man. Wide and strong, sitting upon his sturdy horse he looked like a stone wall. A thick black mustache as dark as his stallion graced a face that was scarred from the pox. The most mesmerizing thing about him was a pair of blue eyes that were as bright as the Colorado sky.

Unabashedly, he sidled up to Clayton and smiled. "You are a sight for sore eyes," he murmured, clasping Clayton's arm."You're sister's going to soak my shirt, she's going to be so pleased to see you."

Clayton grinned. "I've missed Corrine. I've missed you both."

"You've been gone far too long, Clay."

"I didn't mean to; things just happened."

Merritt turned to Vanessa then, his sparkling eyes seeming to take in every part of her. "Who might you be?"

The question was direct. Before she knew it, she'd replied in kind. "Vanessa."

"She's my wife, Merritt."

Merritt cocked an eyebrow. "I hadn't heard you'd taken a wife."

"We're recently married." Clayton shifted. "I'll tell you the whole story if you'll let me get off my poor horse. Lee's ready for a rest, and I know Vanessa is."

"Come on then," Merritt said, kicking his horse into a trot."Let's get you settled."

"You all right?" Clayton asked as they followed at a far slower pace. "I should have probably warned you that Merritt has never had a problem with speaking his mind."

"I don't mind. I like him."

They said nothing more as they approached the barn, then became involved with the painstaking work of dismounting, sorting saddlebags, and caring for the horses.

Vanessa did as much as she could, though Merritt and one of his hands took over without much fanfare, easily showing that they could do twice the work in half the time.

Merritt had just asked another hand to take Clayton's and her saddlebags into the main house when Corrine, all five feet of her, came racing in.

"Corry, you should have waited inside. It's chilly out here."

"I couldn't wait another minute, John. Clayton!" she gasped before launching into his arms. "Clayton, I told John I was sure that was you."

A lump formed in Vanessa's throat as she witnessed the tearful reunion. Clayton gently wrapped his arms around Corrine and rested his head on top of hers. He closed his eyes, obviously memorizing the moment.

Corrine was laughing and crying and talking all at the same time. Clayton murmured something quietly, too softly for Vanessa to discern the words.

After another minute, Merritt winked at Vanessa before stepping a little more closely to his wife. "Easy now," Merritt said. "And you be careful with her, Clay."

After a couple of hiccups, Clay set Corrine at arms' length and fought a smile. "What, now that you're a fancy married lady you've become a china doll?"

"No. I'm in the family way, Clayton."

"Again?" He felt his face flush as his sister chuckled.

Merritt rolled his eyes as he pulled Corrine into the comfort of his arms. "A baby. My guess is another girl, Corrine's carrying on so."

All teasing faded away like the flick of a switch. Clayton thought she still had a baby. "Is that right, Corrine? So soon?"

She nodded. "We're thinking I'll be due in a few weeks or so." Quietly, she added, "It's a blessing. After Melissa, I didn't think I could have any more."

Merritt scowled. "She probably shouldn't."

Just as Clayton looked to be saying something about that, Corrine turned to Vanessa, capturing her with brown eyes just like Clayton's. "I'm so sorry; what must you think of me, ignoring you like that? How do you do? I'm Corrine Merritt."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Vanessa."

"My wife," Clayton added simply.

But at that moment, Corrine hugged her hard before flying back into Clayton's arms. "Married? Oh my word, this is news! Clayton, when did this happen? I can't believe it! I've always hoped he'd find someone special," she rushed on, tears filling her eyes once again.

Merritt sighed.

Clayton hugged his sister while reserving a wink for Vanessa. "I'm glad you're happy."

Unabashedly, the tears flew faster. "Happy? I'm more than that. I'm just so thankful." Stepping away, Corrine wiped at her cheeks with a fist. "Oh, Clay. After everything you've been through, it's such a blessing to know you've found peace in your life."

"Settle now, Corry," Merritt said, curving an arm around her. "Everything's good."

Peeking out from her husband's hug, Corrine gazed Clayton's way. "You sure?"

"Positive," Clayton said with a nod.

A lump settled in Vanessa's throat. Oh, how she wanted to believe that! She wanted her marriage to be something to celebrate, something to embrace, instead of feeling the harsh grip of doubt and apology that gripped her every time she looked at Clayton.

He caught her gaze and smiled softly. "I think you and Vanessa are going to like each other very much."

"I'm sure you'd like us to get you out of this barn! Are you thirsty? Hungry? I bet you're starved!" she finished before anyone else could get a word in edgewise. "And you'll have to meet the girls! They're with Rosa right now. Rosa loves to sit with them while they play with their dolls, and I love Rosa for doing it."

Vanessa picked up her skirts and gave up even thinking about answering as Corrine prattled on. Then, as Clayton gently curved his fingers along her elbow, she felt warm and happy.

Almost like being home at last.

Almost.

Clayton lit his cigar and inhaled deeply as the match burned low, finally snuffing out in a burst of bright orange next to his fingertips. He certainly did enjoy the comforting feel of his sister's homestead. It had been a long time since he'd been anyplace where he felt truly relaxed, and the sense of belonging was almost as welcome as the chicken and dumplings Corrine had served.

"Dinner was very fine," he said to his brother-in-law.

"You got lucky," Merritt said with a laugh. "Your sister is bar none the worst cook I've ever had the misfortune of knowing.Chicken and dumplings is the only thing she can make, and she's managed to ruin that a time or two as well."

Recalling how their father had insisted she keep trying to bake decent biscuits instead of river rocks, and how their Aunt Marge had schooled Corrine more than once on the proper way to season a pan, Clayton frowned. "She's still no better, even after all this time?"

"Not even a little. Usually José cooks for us, but he's visiting his wife tonight."

"She doesn't live here with him?"

"Nope. She works for another family down the road."

"That sounds like a story."

"It is one at that," Merritt stated in between puffs. "I guess they took to living apart right around the time his mother moved closer, to keep an eye on them."

Clayton grinned. "Uh oh."

"Yep. From what I hear, José's mama gave her what-for one too many times, so Pearl took herself off to another job. Took me some time to get the idea straight in my brain, but now I have to admit, I can't fault them. José and Pearl fight like cats and dogs. She has no patience for the man. And, well, José is a lot of things, but a saint ain't one of them. He cusses and chews and spits as well as any man under my command. Pearl's femininity hasn't dimmed his habits in the slightest."

"They visit each other frequently?"

"And infrequently. About once a week José gets a look in his eye and takes off in Pearl's direction. After twenty-four hours together, José returns, working like a madman and full of stories about the many problems with his wife. It truly is not one of the more peaceful relationships I've ever witnessed."

"Unlike yours."

Merritt raised an eyebrow in wry acceptance. "Indeed.Unlike mine."

Clayton struck a match against a plank underfoot and avoided commenting on that. They both knew he was in no position to say a word about the sanctities of marriage.

Merritt rocked back and forth, pointing out the misshapen form of a horn toad before resting his boots flat on the planks below him. "Now that we've gossiped about my cook, you want to tell me what's really going on?"

Clayton watched his cigar's smoke dissipate in the cool night air. "Not especially."

"I think it might be a fine idea."

"But not a good one."

His chair stopped. "A man would have to be blind not to see that Vanessa is a fetching woman."

"I'm not blind."

Merritt prodded a little more. "She seems very sweet."

"She is that. But tougher than you might imagine," Clayton added, thinking once more about her fortitude on the trail to Colorado. "She's got grit."

"That's good to hear. So. Care to finally tell me why you showed up here in Colorado?"

"I didn't know I needed a reason to visit my sister."

"Don't play that game, Lieutenant. Last I heard you had a job at the Circle Z. Don't see how you can take off from it."

"It's Captain, Major," Clayton retorted just as sharply. "At least, it was. And Vanessa and I just decided to come out this way."

Snuffing the rest of the cigar out from under his boot, Merritt stared hard at Clayton. "Settle now. All I'm saying is that it would be a good idea to tell me the truth. You need to level with someone. Might as well be family."

Family.

The air stilled between them, becoming thicker with expectation and unspoken words. Merritt was as close to him as Scout had ever been, and even more so since Clayton had had little contact with Scout after the war began. Merritt loved him like a brother, and more than once had saved his hide.

Perhaps that was why Merritt had not been reluctant to speak to him so bluntly and forcefully. Not since his father was alive had anyone dared to speak to him in such a way. Not the men on the trail who he used to command, not Vanessa, not the boys at the Circle Z.

Merritt waved his cigar and kept right on talking. "Take tonight, for example. Here, you've been married a few days, a few weeks at the most. You have a beautiful wife who looks at you like the sun rises and shines on your shoulders. Most men of my acquaintance would be in their bride's arms at a time like this, enjoying every minute of the marriage bed. Enjoying some privacy after nights of sleeping outside. But you, Clayton Proffitt, are paying social calls."

Clayton didn't like his old friend's tone or implication that he somehow was a groom in need. "There's not a thing you need to be worrying about."

"I was once a newlywed, too, you know."

With his sister. "I'm well aware of that."

"There's something going on between you two; I just don't know what. But I do know that it isn't all candy and roses."Leaning forward, Merritt met his gaze and looked as lethal as a rattler. "Talk."

"I worked for Vanessa's father," Clayton finally said. "They have a spread out in West Texas."

"Circle Z. I remember."

"It was a good place for me. Then, Bill Grant died."

"And?"

"After a time, her mother remarried. Marilyn Grant, she wasn't the kind of woman who could imagine handling things on her own. When Price Venture came around, offering protection and a future, she took it. They were married within weeks of Bill's passing."

"And let me guess, Venture is no good?"

"No."

Merritt whistled low.

Clayton nodded. "In some ways, I can't blame her. The Circle Z is a big place, and neither Vanessa nor Miles were fit to manage the property."

"But you could have."

"I could have, and I managed a lot of it. But I wasn't family."Recalling the chain of events that led him and Vanessa to this place, Clayton cleared his throat. "Mere weeks after the ink on their license was dry, Venture showed his true colors.He degraded his wife and mismanaged the ranch. To put it lightly, the transition was difficult. Price kept me on as foreman and went on to put as much of Bill Grant's money to use in the cathouses over at Camp Hope as he could. He made no secret of the fact—everyone knew. As time passed, Marilyn retreated even more to her rooms."

"You ever going to tell me about Vanessa?"

"Van . . . Van took it all fairly hard. She was close to her daddy, and he doted on her." Clayton closed his eyes, remembering her dressed in head-to-toe black, standing by her lonesome next to her daddy's grave. "I started giving her special attention—she needed it."

"And got smitten?"

Perhaps that had been when it happened. Or—had it been earlier?

Maybe he'd been smitten from the first moment he'd laid eyes on her. When she'd worn braids and had freckles and had looked at him with such trust that he'd thought his heart would break.

"I respected her," he corrected. "I tried to look out for her, tried to be her friend." He paused, seeking control. "Back in September, I found her out in the barn, crying. Price had whipped her with his belt."

Merritt's eyes hardened. "I can guess the reason."

"I took her out of there that night. Ken Willoughby married us outside of Lubbock. He's become a pastor," Clayton added.

"And now you're here."

"And now we're here. I should let you know that I've offered her your protection."

"Not yours? She's your wife."

"I truly don't know if I'm the best man for her. She's young.Raised to have the kind of things I can't get for her." Looking down, Clayton said, "I've been praying about her, and praying about what we should do."

"What has the Lord been telling you?"

"I don't know." Looking out across the wintery grasslands of the Bar M, Clayton said, "I feel like He placed me near Vanessa to keep her safe."

"Perhaps He did."

"If that's the case, then I shouldn't be in love with her too, should I?"

"Why not? It all makes sense to me. Husbands should look out for their wives. Protect and honor them." Lowering his voice, he murmured, "And love them."

"I do love Vanessa. But she needs time."

"Ah." They sat in silence a moment longer, listening to the sounds of the night. In the distance, a lone coyote cried out. The stars above them burned brightly, illuminating their presence with a spectacular glow. Finally, Merritt spoke again."You remember how I found Corrine?"

"I do."

"Your sister was washing Scout's clothes in lye soap. Her hands were raw and burning. And she still offered to cook me supper."

"Thank goodness you said no."

Merritt laughed. "She did more on her own than you might believe, Clayton. After the Yankees came through, your Aunt Marge retreated into her own world. It was up to Corrine to find food, to take care of Scout. She shouldered a lot of burdens.I prayed a lot about my feelings for her, Clayton. It was no easy task to accept her gift of love in those days. There was a strong possibility I'd love her and then leave her a widow."

Clayton knew his situation with Vanessa wasn't any easier.But the difference was that he didn't feel at peace with either leaving Vanessa's side or giving into the temptation of being her husband for the next twenty years.

Merritt broke the silence again. "What are you going to do now?"

"I'm not sure. I need to find a job."

"There's plenty of work here. Why don't you stay on at the Bar M for a bit?"

"If Price comes—"

"If Price comes, I'll greet him with everything he deserves.""That might solve Vanessa's worries, but not all of my problems.I need to earn my way."

"You can do that here."

"I depended on you during the war, Merritt. You can't ask a man to do that twice in a lifetime."

"What if I told you I don't see it that way? What if I said I need you as much as you need me?"

"I'd say thank you." Maybe Merritt was right. Maybe it was time to settle down and stop looking behind his shoulder.Time to move on.

They rocked a little more in silence. Sat together the way men can when no words are necessary between them. After a while, Merritt spoke. "Maybe what Vanessa really needs is to know you care."

"She knows I care." After all, he'd guided her across the country!

"I suppose that's enough, then." After snuffing out his cigar in a box of sand on the edge of the porch, Merritt turned to the door. "Now, I best go take care of your sister. She's the worst pregnant woman I've ever seen. She whines and complains like no other."

After Merritt went inside, he gazed at the stars, all of them looking to be within a hand's reach.

Clayton wished he could very well pull one down and make a wish. That fanciful thought almost made him smile.

To his surprise, Corrine was standing outside his bedroom door when he came upstairs an hour later, her hand hovering over the knob. "Oh, Clay, thank the good Lord you're here."

Panic rose in his chest as he strode forward. "What's wrong?"

"It's Vanessa. She's having a night terror, Clayton. For the last few minutes she's been crying something awful, thrashing, too, by the sounds of things. I was going to go get you, but was afraid to leave her . . . and I was going to go in, but was afraid that might just make things worse."

Vanessa's cry pierced the air again.

"Go on back to bed. I'll take care of her," Clayton murmured as he slipped into his room.

Across the way, atop a pile of down comforters, Vanessa was crying. Her hands were clenched in fists, gripping an unseen enemy. Pale ankles and calves peeked out under her wrinkled nightgown. A moan escaped her, high-pitched and frightened.

As her head moved side to side, Clayton sat next to her."Sweetheart? Vanessa, honey, hush now," he whispered, yanking off each boot and letting them fall to the floor. "Van?" he whispered, reaching for her shoulders.

His touch spurred her on. With a cry, she swatted at him like a woman fighting for her life. Clayton stayed still, trying his best to curve his arms around her. "Vanessa, darling, shh.Shh, now. It's all right."

When she quieted for a time, Clayton pulled off his sweatstained chambray. Though he had a feeling his white undershirt didn't smell much better, at least the dust and dirt from riding Lee wouldn't soil her skin. Then he gathered her in his arms and slowly rubbed her back. The raised scar tissue felt almost familiar by now. "Van? Vanessa?"

She opened her eyes, screamed, and cowered again.

This was worse than usual.

Something terrible was locked in her mind. Something she'd obviously done her best to push aside. He'd done much of the same thing with memories from the war.

Feeling helpless. Scared, he did the only thing he knew that could help.

He prayed. "Lord, please help," he whispered. "Please be with us. Please help her." Silently he added his own selfish appeal.
Please help me help her.