Finding Promise (10 page)

Chapter Eleven

Forced to stop because of the dark, Jake and Preacher found shelter under some trees.
Damn rain. Is this destined to be the wettest cattle drive in history?
he grumbled to himself as he wiped Preacher's face. He lifted the saddle off Preacher and placed it next to a tree trunk so he could have a place to sit that wasn't in five inches of mud. What he wouldn't give for a cup of Shorty's hot coffee right now. He had to make do with rolling a cigarette in hopes that would keep him awake.

He sat on his saddle with the tree at his back and his arms resting on his knees as he thought about the situation. It looked like the killers were headed toward Denver, but he suspected that wasn't their true destination. More than likely they were leading him on a wild-goose chase, and were going to meet up with the rest of their gang at some point. Maybe they were going to Denver, maybe not. There was only one thing he felt confident about at this point: They would keep coming back until they got what they wanted.

Watching the rain increase in intensity, he resigned himself to the fact that tracking them was going to be next to impossible come daylight. The smart thing would be for him to turn around and head back to the cattle drive since he was ill prepared to follow them for several days. He needed to think, but right now, he was too tired to even do that.

Crushing his cigarette into the soggy earth, his mind drifted to Promise and how frightened she must be. Losing her memory was bad enough, but then to know these men could appear at any moment compounded the problem. He'd seen the dark circles under her eyes, and he knew she wasn't sleeping at night. He dropped his head to his forearms and closed his eyes as he reflected on his best course of action. He promptly fell asleep.

He awoke to Preacher nudging him in the shoulder. “Yeah, yeah, I'm awake,” he told him, rubbing his muzzle. He didn't know how he'd slept in the torrential downpour, but he managed. When he tried to straighten his legs, he realized he'd been in the same position for a while because he was as stiff as a board and he ached all over. Gaining his feet, water sloshed from his slicker like a waterfall.

He retrieved a dry shirt out of his saddlebag to rub Preacher down before he saddled him. His mind felt clearer after that bit of rest. When the killers attacked Shorty and Promise during the stampede, he thought they were trying to kill Shorty to get to Promise. But now he knew he'd missed the obvious. These killers were not only after the money; Promise had seen their faces and they didn't know she'd lost her memory. They assumed she could identify the men who killed those people. They wanted the money, but they also wanted to silence her. She was the only one between them and a noose. With the knowledge they wouldn't stop until Promise was dead, he couldn't waste another minute. There was only one thing he could do right now.

“Let's go back, Preach,” he said, throwing his saddle over the horse's back.

Cole had the cattle moving before dawn. He'd ridden beside Promise for most of the morning, pleading with her to ride inside one of the wagons to stay dry. As wet as she was, he worried she would catch a cold, or worse. She looked tired and on edge, and he wanted her to get some dry clothes on and get some rest.

“I wish you would ride in the wagon,” he said for about the tenth time. “You're going to keep on until you get sick.” Were all women this exasperating? Jake would kick his butt all the way to Wyoming if she was sick when he got back.

Promise didn't look at him when she said, “Do you worry about your men getting ill from a little rain?”

Cole blew out a deep breath. “The men have faced weather like this before,” he ground out between clenched teeth, clearly on the verge of losing his patience. “And they haven't suffered any injuries lately, either.”

She decided she might as well ask Cole what she intended to ask Jake when he returned. “I think I know how you can get me out of your hair.”

“I wasn't trying to—” he began, but halted when she held up her hand.

She didn't want to hear his denial. She knew the drive was being compromised because the men were trying to keep her safe. “I wanted to ask if it would be possible for me to buy a horse.”

He was puzzled why she thought he wanted her
out of his hair
, as she put it. But her question really threw him. “Why do you want to buy a horse?”

“I've decided I'm going to ride to Denver.”

Cole couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Alone?”

“Certainly,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

“Now why do you want to do a fool thing like that?” Maybe there was something more wrong with her than losing her memory, if this was what she was thinking.

“It seems logical that Denver is as good a place as any to find out if I have family there. It makes little sense for me to remain with the cattle drive with those men following me, waiting for any opportunity to create havoc. That young man was shot because I am traveling with you.”

Cole stopped his horse and glared at her. “No.”

She reined in beside him. “No, what?”

“Take your choice. No, I will not sell you a horse. No, I will not hear of you taking off to Denver alone.” He took a deep breath. “And no to any other harebrained idea you have in that pretty little head of yours.”

While Cole was not as intimidating in appearance as Jake McBride, she could tell he was every bit as determined when he made up his mind.

“I will just ask Mr. McBride upon his return.” She nudged her horse to a gallop.

“You go right ahead. He'll just say no,” he yelled after her. Once he recovered from the shock of her request, he remembered he was responsible for looking after her. He picked up his pace to catch up to her.

 

 

After dinner, Promise retired to her wagon, but like the previous night, she was too on edge to rest. She picked up her brush and ran it through her hair, then twisted her hair on top of her head and reached for her comb. After she put the comb in her hair, she reached for the other comb . . . there was a second comb. In her mind's eye she saw a woman handing her a gift. She saw herself opening the beautifully wrapped package that contained two matching combs. The woman she saw in her mind must have been her mother. She desperately wanted to remember everything. These little bits and pieces were frustrating, but she clung to the fact that her memory was returning.

Sitting on her pallet, she picked up her tablet and flipped through the pages. Of the people she had drawn, Jake's portrait was by far the best, in her opinion. She hoped one day she would have the opportunity to paint him. Staring at the drawing, she realized her attraction to him had been growing stronger each day. It wasn't only because he was a stunningly handsome man; his strong character was what made him irresistible. He was everything she'd hoped to see in the West. She stopped . . .
Where did that come from?
How did she know that? Another unanswered question. There were few things she was certain about, but she was certain of one thing: She was definitely not a married woman.

 

 

It was the middle of the night when Jake spotted Cole and Harm as he rode to camp. After he talked with them, he rode to the corral to take care of Preacher. While he was rubbing him down, Rodriguez came up beside him. Jake could tell he had something on his mind. “What's bothering you, Rodriguez?”

“The señorita is very sad. She does not rest when you are not here.”

Jake hated to hear that. “Has she remembered anything?”

“I do not think so, and there is nothing any of us can do,” Rodriguez replied.

Jake understood his feelings of helplessness. “Get some sleep. I'm going to find something to eat, Cole and Harm are on watch and I'll relieve them later.” He walked to the fire and tossed his bedroll under the tent where the men were sleeping before grabbing a cup of coffee. Since there wasn't a light in Promise's wagon, he figured she was sleeping.

Sitting at the back of the wagon in the dark, Promise watched as Jake removed his chaps and hung them near the fire. When he started unbuttoning his shirt, she knew she should turn away, but she couldn't. The shirt came off and her eyes were riveted to his bare chest and arms. Every inch of his bronzed torso was roped in hard muscle. She couldn't remember if she had ever seen a man's bare chest, but seeing Jake, it was inconceivable that she would forget such a sight. He was magnificent. How could any man be so perfectly made? She had the urge to grab her oils and paint him exactly as he looked in that moment, with the fire blazing behind him. For the life of her, she couldn't move.

Once he sat down to drink his coffee, Promise climbed from the back of the wagon and walked toward him. “Would you like something to eat?”

Jake almost went for his gun until it registered who was speaking to him. “I didn't hear you.”

“I'm sorry if I startled you. I thought you might be hungry,” she replied. She kept her gaze lowered so she wouldn't stare at his bare chest.

“I was going to see if I could find something. How's Will?”

“He's already up and around.” She turned away. “I'll warm something for you to eat.”

Some of the men were sleeping under the makeshift tent constructed between the fire and the back of the cook's wagon. “I don't want to wake the men. If there are any biscuits, I'll eat them cold.” She moved quietly to the back of the wagon and found some cold biscuits and cooked slabs of bacon. When she returned with the plate of food, the rain started coming down harder. “If you don't want soggy biscuits, I think you'd better eat in the wagon.”

He was eager to get out of the rain and there wasn't a spare space under the tent. At the same time, he hadn't forgotten his vow that he wasn't going back in that wagon, but at this very moment the thought of being dry was the temptress. Plus, he was just too tired to argue with himself. “I think you're right.” He picked up his saddlebag, grabbed a lantern and followed her to the wagon.

Once they were in the dry confines of the wagon, he pulled a dry shirt out of his saddlebag and shoved his arms through the sleeves, but left it unbuttoned. He sat down and looked at her. Rodriguez was right when he said she wasn't resting. She looked tired and pale. “Why aren't you asleep at this late hour?”

She sat on her pallet, covertly watching his every movement. She didn't want to stare at his chest, but she couldn't keep herself from stealing an occasional glimpse. “I couldn't sleep.”

“Why?” He didn't notice how her gaze kept drifting to his unbuttoned shirt. He was busy adding the bacon to his biscuits.

“I was worried.”

He assumed she'd been worried about the killers attacking them again. “You don't have to worry; we will be ready the next time. If there is a next time. There will always be extra men in camp now.”

“I was worried about you going after them alone,” she admitted. “There were too many of them.”

He looked up at her then. Rodriguez was right, she looked very sad. “You don't have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.” He noticed she was wearing the comb he'd found in the mud. “I see you found your comb.”

Her finger automatically touched the comb in her hair. “Yes, I think I had two of them.”

“You remembered something else?”

“Earlier tonight I had a memory of opening a present and inside there were two matching combs. I think it was a Christmas gift from my mother.”

“It's good you're remembering some more things.” He held out a biscuit to her.

“No, thank you.”

After polishing off his meal, he leaned back against the wagon and closed his eyes. They were burning like the devil from lack of sleep.

Promise debated if now was the time to discuss Denver with him since he was obviously so tired, but she wanted to get it over with. “I wanted to know if I could buy a horse.”

Jake's eyes snapped open. “Why do you want to buy a horse? You can ride Stubborn anytime you want.”

“I've decided I will ride to Denver.”

The look he gave her clearly said he thought she'd lost her mind. “Are you saying you are planning on riding to Denver alone?” He shook his head. He must be more tired than he figured if he just heard her say she wanted to take off by herself with killers on the loose.

“I do have a gun, and I obviously know how to shoot. I think I can handle any problems. Cole said no, but I think it is a mistake not to consider this.”

“You already asked Cole?” It irritated the hell out of him that she would discuss this with Cole first.