Promise Me
Authors: Deborah Schneider
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Promise Me
Deborah Schneider
Promise Me
A Books to Go Now Publication
Copyright
©
Deborah Schneider
2012
Books to Go Now
Contact Information: [email protected]
Publishing History
First Edition, 2010, Kindle Edition Published by Deborah Schneider October 2012
Edited by
Helen Hardt
Published in the United States of America
Discover other titles by
Deborah Schneider at Amazon.com
Dedication
For Garth, who taught me to never give up and never stop believing in myself and my writing.
In loving memory of my grandparents, Harriet and Arthur Hotaling
Winner,
Best Western Romance,
EPIC (Electronic Publishing Industry Coalition) 2011 eBook Award
Praise for this author
“I enjoyed it thoroughly! The story was delightful.”
Jayne Ann Krentz
“Crisp dialogue and enjoyable characters mark this lovely novel. The protagonists mature during their stormy relationship into a couple willing to express their love. In the midst of the romance the author deftly incorporates a suspense subplot.”
Four Stars â Keitha Hart,
RT Book Reviews
“A delightful western that is reminiscent of the romantic stories of old. I highly recommend it.”
The Romance Reader
“Amusing, attention-grabbing and steamy, this book delivers.”
Four Spurs -
Love Western Romance
Table
of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Epilogue
Special Bonus Short Story
About the author...
Prolog
ue
“I think you're getting a little too cozy in this town.” Robert stared at him across the expanse of the oak desk. “Have you forgotten why we were sent here?”
“Hardly,” Sam responded. “But we knew right from the start this would be a delicate operation. The men we're investigating won't let just anyone into their inner circle. I've worked for months to gain their trust.”
“Hrmmp,” Robert responded. “Drinking and playing poker don't seem like much hard work.”
Sam grinned at his partner. “Not as tough as working for Harriet Parmeter. You hands must be nearly bleeding from the amount of dishes she's got you washing every night.”
Robert stared down at his boots. “Mrs. Parmeter is a fine woman. I don't mind giving her a hand at the hotel. She treats me fair and is the best cook I ever knowed.”
Sam caught his friend's gaze and grinned. “So, you really don't mind staying in this town for a bit more, do you? You can court Mrs. Parmeter. Maybe settle down and get married.
Robert spit into the nearby spittoon. “Don't get carried away with your imaginin's, Sam. I respect the woman, and eating her meals ain't no kinda chore. But you and me ain't the marrying kind. We'll finish up this assignment, get paid and kick up our heels a bit. Then we'll move on.
Sam leaned back in his chair and nodded. “I won't be staying in Willow Creek one minute more than it takes to complete our assignment. But, we know this is important. I can't take a chance of botching this one. The mine owners invite me to their games, but I've never been to any of their special meetings. If one of the members of the group starts talking about their plans, another guy interrupts him and they change the subject.
He leaned forward to stare into Robert's eyes. “I need to find out what those meetings are about. They're far too secretive about them.
Robert nodded. “But, if they don't trust you after months of card games and drinking, what's gonna make them invite you into their inner circle?”
Sam drummed his fingers on the desktop. “I don't know. Maybe they need someone to perform a special job for them.”
“Murder?” Robert said, his lips thinning and his expression going hard. “That's about the only thing men like that would need. Rich mine owners wouldn't want to get their own hands dirty when they want someone out of the way.”
Sam tossed his cheroot over the desk and into the spittoon. “You know I'd never go that far, no matter how important the assignment. I think we both had enough killing in the war.”
Robert stood up. “Glad to hear you still got some scruples.”
Sam stood and slowly took his frock coat off a peg. “You know me better than anyone, Robert. There are lines I won't cross.” He shrugged into his coat and grabbed his black wide-brimmed felt hat. He set it on his head and smoothed the brim.
“Seems like the last few assignments, those lines are getting thinner and thinner.” Robert said.
Sam opened the door and indicated his partner should go out before him. “I do what's necessary, and so do you. I know our superiors in Washington are getting anxious. I'm doing the best I can to get the information we need.”
Robert proceeded out the door, but paused to give his friend and partner an anxious look. “I know, but for some reason, you seem more settled and content than I've seen you in years. Might be owning a business in Montana is the thing you been searching for these past few years.”
Sam folded his arms across his chest. “You've heard me talk about my dreams, Robert. I want to breed the best damned horses in California. This job is only a stepping stone to getting my ranch. I do what I have to, but every assignment is just another investigation. We get the information we need and the culprits get arrested.
“Then we move on.” Robert said, as he went through the outer door to the street.
“That's right,” Sam responded. “We don't settle down, we're just here to get the job done.”
Robert tipped his hat with his finger and started toward the Parmeter House to his dinner chores for Harriet Parmeter.
Sam watched him go with a twinge of envy. Despite his teasing, he knew Harriet and Robert had developed a strong bond. She was a good woman, and he wondered if Robert was seriously considering settling in Willow Creek.
It didn't matter. Once he'd finished his assignment, there was nothing to hold Sam here. Whether Robert stayed or traveled on with him, his goal was to get to California with enough money in his pocket to buy a ranch.
Then he'd settle down. Maybe even try getting married again.
His throat tightened and he swallowed. Maybe not. Marriage was for the young and foolish.
Those were things he'd been once, but a war had burned all the hope and faith he'd ever had to a cinder. Now he protected himself with a sharp wit, as much good sense as he could muster and the ability to use the revolver strapped to his side with cool proficiency.
He gazed down the street to the swinging doors of the Dark Horse Saloon. Truth be told, he'd prefer to go to his rooms and read his new book. A package had arrived for him today, and it included a copy of Mark Twain's newest book about traveling around the world. He was looking forward to reading it.
But, his job was to find a way to earn the trust of a group of silver mine owners. He stepped off the boardwalk and into the mud of the street. His lips thinned.
God how he hated all the damned mud in this town.
Chapter One
“Seems like an awful lot of stewing
over one widow woman.”
Samuel Calhoun flicked his gaze across the ample bosom of the saloon girl who set his whiskey on the table. He briefly considered bedding her, then returned his concentration to his cards.
“She ain't just a widder woman. She's the wife of Arthur Wainwright, and the sole owner of the Silver Slipper Mine, now that he's dead. And I hear tell she got every penny of his money. Now she's comin' up with these crazy schemes, gettin' the miners together for some kinda association, she calls it.” Henry Sanders hurled his wad of chewing tobacco into the spittoon. He missed. “And if she succeeds, well, it's gonna hurt all of us.”
Zachariah Dent tossed two cards on the table and raised an eyebrow at Sam. “Easy for you to say, Calhoun. If the rumors are to be believed, she's gonna make you a rich man.” He shook his head at his poker partners. “That fella she sent to town, calls himself her agent, he's tellin' folks they're gonna build houses for the miners.”
Zachariah picked up the cards Sam had dealt him and swore before throwing his hand down in disgust. “Luck seems to be with you tonight, Calhoun.”
Sam gave the men a lazy grin. “It appears so, gentlemen. But lady luck is as fickle as any woman can be, and she can change her mind in a heartbeat.” He threw more chips to the center of the table before dealing himself a card from the deck he held in one hand. Glancing at it, he kept his eyes cast down, never hinting at the fortuitous draw he'd just made.
“I don't like what I hear about this Miners' Benevolent Association. What the hell does any woman want with that kinda nonsense? Why don't she stay up in Helena where she belongs?” Zachariah gulped down the rest of his whiskey and signaled a saloon girl for another drink.
Jack Pruitt studied his cards, his dark, granite- hard eyes giving no hint of his thoughts. He withdrew several chips from his dwindling pile and tossed them to the center of the table.
“Raise you twenty, and call.”
Sam gave a slight nod, tossed his own chips into the pile, and spread his cards before him, face up. “Full boat, queens high.” His gaze never wavered from the face of his opponent.
Jack stared at the cards, shaking his head as he folded his own hand. “The ladies do seem to favor you, Calhoun.”
The other men at the table laughed as Sam gathered his winnings to add to his growing pile. He'd done well tonight. He always anticipated a game with this group of mine owners. They could afford to lose, and they enjoyed the challenge of playing against him. Of course, he hoped they were learning to trust him. In fact, he was counting on the poker games to give him that advantage. He watched the men drink, knowing when they felt the effect of the liquor, they'd talk more. Sam could wait to make his inquiries.
He leaned back in his chair, sipped his whiskey, and studied the group. These were tough men. It would take more than rumors of a lady hell bent on good works to scare them. He wondered how he could use the situation to his advantage.
“What exactly is the good Widow Wainwright up to?” he asked, as Henry dealt another hand. Sam never looked at his cards until all five were in front of him.
“Hell bent on destroying us, that's what the bitch is up to.” The venom in Jack Pruitt's voice startled Sam.
Pruitt was a cold, quiet man, not given to emotional outbursts. Sam had once seen him face down an angry miner and plunge a knife into the man's heart with hardly a flicker of concern. Jack clearly considered this woman a serious threat, and Sam knew, in his line of work, there was always a way to benefit when men felt threatened. Especially since he'd learned to always remain calm and unemotional.
“Excuse me for saying so, gentlemen, but a benevolent association hardly seems to be a dangerous proposition. It sounds, veryâ” He paused to cough discreetly. “Christian.”
He picked up his cards, arranged them, and considered his next move. He put two cards face down on the table. “Give me two aces, Henry.”
The other men laughed as they each accepted cards of their own. Sam noted that Jack Pruitt took only one.
He folded early, knowing his two fours wouldn't beat Pruitt, who had a tick in his left eye when he held a good hand. Sam had learned to read people, and in more than one instance that skill had saved his life. Tonight it would at least save him some money.
“Christian is right, damn do-gooder women folk.” Henry folded his cards and grabbed his beer. He slopped some on his silk vest.
“Let me buy you another beer,” Sam said. Henry wouldn't be as careful about what he said if he were drunk.
“Damn kind of ya, Calhoun.”
“I'll buy a round for the table, if it's acceptable to you gentlemen,” Sam said, as Pruitt laid down a pair of aces, gathered his winnings with one meaty fist, and nodded.
Zachariah lifted his lip and sneered. “You got mosta our money anyhow, Calhoun. By rights you oughta be buyin' fer the rest of the night.”
Sam rearranged his chips and flashed a grin. “Well, I plan to retire after a few more hands. I do have a business to run, you know.”
The other men made rude noises of objection, but Sam shook his head. “A working man has to pace himself. And if what you say about Mrs. Wainwright needing a substantial amount of lumber is true, I'd best make sure I have a decent stock available.”
“Goddamn it, Calhoun, don't tell us you plan to help this woman with her schemes? Refuse to sell her the lumber, and maybe she'll go back where she came from.” Henry lifted his glass. “Give her a hard time and send her packin', that's how we should get rid of her.”
Jack Pruitt studied the whiskey glass sitting in front of him, but he didn't touch it. He wasn't much of a drinking man, and he nursed a whiskey for hours during a card game. It took real skill to beat Pruitt at poker, and Sam relished the challenge.
