Promise Me (29 page)

His heart slammed against his chest. The hot urge to take possession of her dissolved in the face of her confession. Amanda loved him.

Before Sam could form a response, she lifted her gaze to greet someone behind him.

“Hello Margaret and Walter. The yard looks just lovely. You did a wonderful job.”

Sam moved aside to make way for two members of the Abbott family. He knew better than to start an argument with Amanda now. It was going to be a special evening for her, and he didn't intend to spoil it. And the shock of her words had hit him hard, like someone swinging a two-by-four at him. He needed to think about this and find a way to convince her they couldn't be together, despite the fact that they loved each other.

Damned if he knew how he was going to do that, because he was having a hard time convincing himself.

“I'll talk to you after supper, Amanda. You're right. There are things we need to sort out.” He turned and stalked toward the front gate.

“Don't worry, darlin'. I'll save a dance for you!” Amanda yelled after him.

Sam yanked his Stetson down on his head and fumed. He slammed the gate closed. He'd done it now. It was apparent that Amanda had gone stark raving mad. His emotions were in turmoil, with her confession that she loved him creating confusion and a jolt of happiness no amount of good sense could subdue. A tremor of hope surged through him, along with a sure knowledge that after tonight, his life would never be the same.

He would be back later tonight and he'd tell her the whole truth. He'd admit who he really was and beg for her forgiveness. He loved her, and once he told her, he'd never stop saying it over and over again.

A patch of light glided up his backbone and he stopped, trying to figure out what was happening to him.

He was happy. Really and truly happy.

“Well, I'll be damned” he said, laughing as pulled his hat down on his head. He strolled down the street whistling, and he didn't care if the good citizens of Willow Creek thought he was crazy. To hell with them all, because he was a man in love.

Chapter Twenty

Amanda contemplated the yard filled with people having a wonderful time. Old grizzled miners pumped their arms and stomped their feet, dancing to the tune of the small band playing on the wooden stage at the edge of the yard. Tables were loaded with fried chicken, ham, trout baked in a cream sauce, potatoes covered with butter, rolls the size of a man's fist, and creamy coleslaw rich with mayonnaise. A side of beef slowly roasted over an open pit. Other tables were covered with pies, cakes, and puddings for dessert.

Music, laughter, and conversation fl
oated over the men who worked for her. Their families gathered around, laughing, dancing, and eating a prodigious amount of food. With a deep sigh of contentment, Amanda realized her struggle to give these good hard-working folks a night of fun had been worth the cost.

She had arrived in Willow Creek afraid of the challenges she faced. Tonight she was proving she could follow through on her plans and her promises. She lifted her head with pride when yet another couple visited her table to offer their thanks and express their appreciation.

Harriet gave her a motherly pat on the arm. “You've made a lot of folks very happy, Amanda.” There was a note of concern in her voice. “I just hope you haven't sacrificed your own joy doing it.”

Amanda tried to muster a smile. It was growing late, and Sam still hadn't returned to finish their conversation. Maybe she'd been wrong and he was more than willing to watch her leave town, and him, forever.

“Look at young Abbott kick up his heels. He's such a shy, quiet thing, who knew he could dance?” Harriet pointed to a couple twirling around the dance floor. “There'll be a bunch of girls setting their caps for him tomorrow.”

Walter lifted his partner into the air, eliciting a delighted squeal from her. A group of young women standing on the side giggled behind their hands.

“He's a nice young man, and I hope he finds someone who understands that beneath the quiet exterior, there beats a good and loyal heart.”

Amanda continued to enjoy the sight of the members of the gathering filling and then refilling plates. A keg of beer sat to one side, around which a large boisterous group gathered. The musicians took a short break, and her foreman, Lyman Abbott, stepped forward.

“Folks, we all know who we have to thank for tonight's shindig. But it ain't only for the vittles and the beer that we're grateful.” A general roar of approval thundered around the yard and Lyman nodded. “But we are grateful for those things, to be sure. We owe a great deal to our boss-lady, Amanda Calhoun.” This time the roar of the crowd was deafening.

When the people finally settled down, Lyman continued. “She came to town to help us, and since her arrival; we've got much to be thankful for. But we got even more good times ahead of us. We'll have new homes, a school, and a hospital by next year. And by God, we're gonna have a real church, too!”

Several loud complaints punctuated the applause. Lyman raised an eyebrow. “There are quite a few of you what'll need the confessional on Sunday after the hijinks you pull on Saturday night.”

Laughter followed, and Lyman raised his glass mug and nodded in the direction of Amanda.

“To a long and prosperous life. May your husband adore you as much as we do, and may all your children be happy and healthy.”

A lump formed in Amanda's throat at the affection and respect these people demonstrated for her. She was indeed a fortunate woman.

When the crowd settled down once again, she stood up and raised her own glass of cider.

“I want to thank all of you for your help in making the Willow Creek Miners' Benevolent Association a success. When I arrived in town, I was terrified that I could never live up to the promises I made to Arthur on his deathbed.”

There was silence as the people waited for her to continue.

“I thought I was coming here to help some people who worked for me. I never realized how much this experience would teach me about myself.”

A rush of warmth flowed through her at the smiles on her friends' faces.

“I want to thank you for helping me to gain strength, to believe in a higher purpose for my life, and to show me that by working together, our children can prosper and be happy.”

The yard erupted into a joyful cacophony. Amanda moved through the gathered throng, accepting hugs, warm handshakes, and kind expressions of gratitude. She arrived at the back door to the Miners' Association with tears in her eyes. Ducking into the dining room to wipe away the evidence of her emotions, she was surprised to find Mr. Penny seated at the table. He jumped quickly to his feet and removed his hat.

“Begging your pardon, Mrs. Calhoun, but I've been waiting for you.”

Amanda frowned at her agent. “Waiting?”

“Your husband asked me to come by and get you. He said there was something important he needed to talk to you about. He told me it was private and he would prefer to meet you down the street.” He sniffed at the boisterous crowd in the lighted yard. The music was starting up again.

“I think he wanted privacy, you know, to talk.” Penny rolled the brim of his bowler in his bony hands and stared at the floor. “He said to bring you over to the livery stable as soon as I could find you.”

Amanda was confused. She'd been waiting for Sam to return to the Miners' Ball all evening, and she was disappointed to learn he wouldn't be joining the festivities. She gazed out the window, then from the corner of her eye she caught an odd glance from Mr. Penny. It was unsettling, this sense of unease when he was around. When she returned to Helena she would find him another position. “Let me grab my wrap and we can go and meet Mr. Calhoun.”

She draped the silk shawl around her shoulders. She couldn't fathom why Sam would want to meet her at the livery. Unless he intended to surprise her with a new horse. But why on earth would Sam give her a horse? Perhaps it was to confirm to her that their dream of building a life together could be real. They approached the faded gray barn that housed the blacksmith and livery, and she quickened her step.

Mr. Penny only opened the door a thin slice, then he quickly ushered her through it. The interior of the barn was dimly lit by one lantern, and the pungent, earthy odor of horses, manure, leather, and hay assailed her. She blinked several times, trying to adjust to the dim shadows. She frowned when she discovered the form of a man lying supine, his arms tied behind his back, curled into one corner near a stall. When she turned to find Mr. Penny holding a revolver aimed at her, she gasped. “I…”

A tall man clothed in a buckskin jacket emerged from the darkness. His cold, hard expression frightened her. He seemed strangely familiar, and Amanda shivered when she noticed the rifle he held in his hands.

“Got the bitch, eh? It sure as hell took you long enough, Jacob.”

“She was enjoying her own party; it was hard to drag her away.” Mr. Penny snickered. “They were all toasting her, telling her what a great job she's done.” The other man made a nasty sound deep in his throat. “She's done a great job of spending her husband's money, that's for sure. Miners'Association be damned.”

He glared at Amanda. “You shoulda left town when I told ya to.”

“I don't understand,” Amanda said. “What do you want? Money?”

“Get up there.” Mr. Penny made a motion with the gun for Amanda to climb onto the seat of the buckboard.

The other man laughed before he kicked at the bound man lying at her feet. “I was hoping we'd be able to capture that good-looking husband of yours, too, but I guess we're lucky we got this Secret Service fellow instead.”

Amanda tried to control her emotions. She stood with one foot on the metal step of the wagon, her heart racing and her hands sweating.

“What would a Secret Service agent want in Willow Creek? Who are you? Why have you brought me here?”

The man threw back his shoulders and stepped close enough to Amanda so she could see the fine, hard pinpoints of hate in his eyes. Amanda shuddered and returned her foot to the dirt floor of the stable.

“I'm Jack Pruitt, one of the miners who paid Calhoun to run you outta town.” He spit on the ground. “Now that we know the truth about him, we're sure he never intended to humiliate and get rid of you. He's a damned Secret Service Agent, too, and once we deal with you, he's goin' to disappear.”

The man on the floor moaned. Jack's face went hard and his mouth formed an angry sneer. “You didn't kill him, Jacob.” He aimed the rifle at the man he'd identified as an agent of the government. “I never can trust you to do anything right.”

Amanda's head swam. Mr. Penny was part of this? What did they plan to do with her? Their conversation was confusing and frightening. And just who was Sam? If what they said were true, she knew nothing about her husband. She wondered if Samuel Calhoun was even his real name.

“If you shoot him it's gonna bring every man in town running over here to see what's going on!” Jacob Penny warned.

Jack glared at Amanda. “I warned you to get out of town.”

“Are you the one who has been sending me those threatening letters?” Terror ripped through her gut, making her queasy.

Jack laughed, but there was no good humor in the sound. “Not only did I send you those letters, but I'm the one who carved up that boy.” His eyes went darker and harder. “‘Course, I was hopin' it would be you at the whorehouse. I had me some fine plans.” His gaze rolled over her slowly, pausing to focus on her breasts. Amanda's stomach roiled and gooseflesh prickled her arms. He laughed again, the noise harsh and ruthless. His eyes were bloodshot and empty of any emotion except hatred. She shivered despite the warmth of the night. Her teeth chattered and her mouth was dry.

“When I finally get rid of you, things around town will settle down. I'll have to kill that husband of yours, too, but everyone will think the two of you left together.”

“Get her in the damned wagon before someone misses her.” Mr. Penny's voice was louder and more strident than Amanda had ever heard before. He was glancing nervously at the door.

“And if I won't comply with your demands?” Amanda made no effort to do as she was directed. Her legs felt wobbly, and she worried they'd give out beneath her at any moment. It took every ounce of courage she could muster to keep from dissolving into hysterical tears. She sensed she needed to remain calm, at least on the outside.

She needed to form a plan. And she prayed Sam would be at the Miners' Association now, searching for her.

Jack Pruitt pointed at the man on the floor. “Then he dies. We didn't have much luck with getting rid of that kid who works for you, but believe me, my technique has improved since then.” He pulled a long bowie knife from a leather pouch at his side. “I've been practicing.”

Amanda swallowed against the nausea in her gut. She'd been right about Caleb all along. He'd been attacked because of her. She recognized the agent on the floor. It was Robert Holcomb. Her heart nearly stopped; she couldn't be responsible for the death of the man, even if she didn't understand how he was involved in this mess. “I'll do whatever you want me to do, but please, don't hurt anyone else.”