Promises Kept (16 page)

“I told Tom you wouldn’t be happy about it, and you wanted them to stay until you found the culprits who set that fire. He said Mrs. Morris would feel better at home, but I don’t think she wanted to leave.” Tate was very fond of Mrs. Morris and he was obviously worried about her.

“Aw hell,” Colt mumbled. Like he didn’t have enough to worry about. Sometimes Tom was just too dang proud for his own good. Now he had to send a couple of men over to watch after Tom and Helen, and a couple of men to Victoria’s place. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough men to work the ranch. He walked to the stall to saddle Razor.

Hours later, Colt and T. J. were tying their horses to the railing in front of the saloon when Colt glanced up and saw Victoria leaving the mercantile across the street. He glanced around, but Bartholomew was nowhere in sight. He wondered what she was doing in town by herself. Just as he told himself to mind his own business, he saw a cowboy walking toward her. Thinking of the encounter with the drunken cowboys at the boardinghouse that night in St. Louis, he thought he would just make sure she didn’t have any problems. “I’ll meet you inside,” he told T. J. as he headed across the street.

T. J. saw what had caught Colt’s attention. “Okay, boss.”

“Delilah?” Colt heard the cowboy say as he approached.

Victoria ignored him and turned to walk away.

“I know that’s you, Delilah,” the cowboy said. He reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from walking away.

“Let go of me!” Victoria screeched. She tried to pull away and dropped her packages in the process. “I don’t know you!”

“Honey, I’d know those eyes anywhere. You’re Delilah, sure enough,” the cowboy insisted. “Don’t you remember me? Gage Hardy.”

She tried to dislodge his fingers from her arm. “I’m not . . .” Her words trailed away when she saw Colt behind the cowboy.

“Let go of the lady,” Colt demanded, his tone hard.

The persistent cowboy half turned toward Colt. “Mind your own business, cowboy.”

Eyes narrowed, Colt’s voice took on an even more ominous tone. “I said let her go.” The cowboy didn’t appear to be drunk, but Colt thought he smelled whiskey.

“Delilah and I go way back,” Gage Hardy said before turning back to Victoria. “Tell him. I know you remember me, honey. How can you forget a man who was with you back in Abilene?”

Colt’s eyes slanted from the cowboy to Victoria. Her face had paled to a ghostly white and her eyes were wide.
Is it fear? Definitely fear.
Surely she had to know that he wouldn’t allow this cowboy to hurt her.

Finally, her gaze skittered over Gage’s shoulder and met Colt’s eyes. “Mr. McBride, I’m afraid this gentleman has me confused with someone else.”

Hearing her voice tremble, Colt realized it was more than fear. She was terrified, and that made him angry. “I’ll not tell you again to take your hands off her.”

The cowboy reluctantly dropped his hand from Victoria’s arm and turned his full attention on Colt. He raised his palms in the air in a placating gesture. “Mister, would you ever forget a woman who looked like her?” he asked reasonably.

The cowboy did have a point; Colt had to give him that. He didn’t know how two people could have mistaken her for someone else in as many days. It wasn’t as if she was common looking; he’d call her a rare jewel, certainly not a face he would ever forget.

When Colt didn’t respond, the cowboy eyed Victoria again, but wisely kept his hands by his side. “Honey, I don’t know what game you’re playing. I know you’re Delilah, and you know I know you’re Delilah. I’ve searched this country for you for four years.” He inclined his head toward the saloon. “Are you working here now? If you are, I’ll be seeing you later.” He gave her a sinful grin, his eyes roving over her insolently. “I’ve never forgotten you.”

Victoria was so frightened her whole body was shaking, and she couldn’t have uttered a sound if her life depended on it.

Fortunately, Colt didn’t suffer the same problem. “You’re mistaken. The lady said she didn’t know you, so I’d suggest you walk away while you’re able.”

Gage’s eyes moved to the pistol on Colt’s hip, but it wasn’t until he looked into Colt’s eyes that he tagged him as a man he didn’t want to tangle with. He’d lived this long by being smart enough to know when to walk away, and this was one of those times. He’d found Delilah, and that meant she lived nearby. Someone would know where she lived if it wasn’t in the saloon. Either way, he’d find her again. He tipped his hat mockingly at Victoria. “I’ll be seeing you, Delilah.” He crossed the street in the direction of the saloon.

Victoria’s eyes remained glued to Hardy’s back until he disappeared behind the doors of the saloon. Once he was out of sight she released a shaky breath. “Does that man live here?”

“Never seen him before. Must be passing through.” Colt bent over to pick up the packages she’d dropped, and noticed she had a tight grip on her reticule. He remembered that derringer she had tucked in there. “Seems like everyone is confusing you with someone else,” he said to ease the tension.
What was the name L. B. had called her? It wasn’t Delilah. Ruby? Yeah, that was it. Ruby
.
And now this cowboy called her Delilah.
What were the odds that there would be two other women who looked like her? One woman being her double was hard enough to conceive, but two? Coincidence? Not a chance. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

“Where’s Bartholomew?” he asked, shoving his errant thoughts to the back of his mind.

Victoria wanted him to go away; she needed to think. “Bartholomew should be along any minute.” She tried to pull the packages from his hands. “I can handle these, Mr. McBride.” Seeing he wasn’t going to relinquish her packages, she folded her hands at her waist. “Thank you for your help . . . again, Mr. McBride. It seems you are always rescuing me.”

“Colt, remember?” She was flustered, no doubt about it.

“Please don’t let me keep you. I know you have things to do.” Her eyes shot toward the saloon. “I will wait right here for Bartholomew.”

Colt didn’t know if she was implying she’d seen him about to enter the saloon, or if she was simply trying to get rid of him. Either way, it riled him.

Bartholomew chattered all the way back to the farm, but Victoria hardly heard a word he said. She was thinking about what she should do about Gage Hardy. That was another prayer that had gone unanswered. God wouldn’t even take a cruel man like Hardy from her life. It was almost too much to comprehend that he had turned up in Promise. She had recognized him, all right. She didn’t even have to see his face to know it was him. That voice had been in her nightmares for four years. He was a man she would never forget. How could she? She’d never felt fear like she did that night four years ago, a mind-numbing fear so palpable she could taste it today. He would have raped her in that Abilene brothel had the bartender not come to her aid. At times, it seemed like a lifetime had passed, but the memories hadn’t faded; they were as clear as the night Hardy stumbled into her room.

The very night she was attacked by Hardy, she had grabbed the boys and left Abilene for good. It never occurred to her that anyone would even bother to look for her. Certainly not Gage Hardy, or her own mother, Ruby. She’d covered a lot of miles and suffered unimaginable hardships since that night in the Lucky Slipper, trying to get as far away as possible, physically if not mentally. It seemed she had lived in fear most of her life, but when she took the boys and lit out with no destination in mind, it was no longer a matter of being afraid just for herself. She hadn’t taken the time to consider the consequences of stealing the boys. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have changed a thing. Knowing they were destined for an orphanage, she’d had no other option than to take them with her when she left Abilene. Their mother, Kitten, hadn’t wanted them any more than her mother had wanted her. At least she was old enough that she could earn her keep by sewing and cooking. The boys were too young to be anything but a burden to Kitten, and she would have sent them away without an ounce of remorse. Kitten and Ruby didn’t have it in them to show kindness, much less the loving affection of a mother. She couldn’t imagine those two precious boys growing up without knowing there was one person in the world who loved them.

Hardy’s words played in her mind.
I’ve been searching the country for you.
She had prayed the years would change her appearance enough so that no one would ever recognize her. Just one more prayer that went unanswered. It would be a blessing if Colt was right, and Gage Hardy was just passing through Promise. If she was lucky she wouldn’t have to face him again. Problem was, she’d never considered herself particularly lucky, and now that something good had happened for her and the boys, she was sure something bad was about to happen. That was the way her life had always worked.

By the time Bartholomew pulled the team to a halt at the farm, Victoria had come to the decision that Hardy wouldn’t force her to run. After all, she was a respectable landowner now and she could go to the sheriff and force him to take action if Hardy continued to harass her. She was determined no one would drive her from her home—not the ranchers who wanted her land, and certainly not some drifter no-account cowboy like Gage Hardy. Terrified as she was of him, she was no longer a helpless child. She had protected herself and the boys for a long time now and would continue to do so. She would never run again, even if she had to kill Gage Hardy.

That decision made, her mind drifted to Colt McBride. He was obviously headed into the saloon when he saw her. No doubt he would have a conversation with Hardy before the night was over and hear the sordid details of her life. That is, if those women from the saloon, Maddie and Lucy, didn’t have other plans for him.

Chapter Sixteen

Wrapping his fingers around Lucy’s arm, Colt ushered her to the far end of the bar, where they would have some privacy for their conversation.

“What was that about yesterday?” he snapped.

Sliding her hands over the front of his shirt, Lucy batted her eyelashes at him. “Well, hello to you too, handsome. Whatever do you mean, darlin’?”

Jerking her hands from his chest, he held her firmly by the wrists. “You know darn well what I’m talking about.”

She tried to pull away, but he held her in his viselike grip. “Did your girl get mad?” she asked in a spiteful tone.

He released her before he did something he would regret. “You pull a stunt like that again and I will have a talk with L. B.”

“Go ahead, tell her. I make that old woman a lot of money. She won’t fire me for talking to a paying customer.”

“I don’t think she would like you being rude to customers on the sidewalk,” Colt said firmly. “So if there is a next time, mark my words, I’ll see L. B.”

“See L. B. about what?” L. B. said from behind him. She’d seen Colt when he stalked into the saloon with murder in his eye, heading directly for Lucy. The look on his face told her he was loaded for bear about something. She wondered if Lucy had caused trouble between Maddie and Colt, since he hadn’t been in the saloon in a long time.

Lucy glared at Colt, and in turn he arched a brow at her. “Do you want to discuss this with L. B.?”

Lucy smirked. “No need, nothing to discuss.” She flipped around and strolled down the bar to cuddle up to a cowboy.

L. B. watched her go. “What was that all about, Colt?”

“We just had a disagreement, nothing to worry about.” He motioned for Sam to pour them a drink.

L. B. cast him a skeptical look. “That gal can be trouble, I’ll tell you. But the men drink double when she’s around. She’s in high demand.”

Sam poured two whiskeys, and Colt downed his and nodded for a refill. “Isn’t she too young for this business?”

L. B. chuckled and tipped the glass to her lips, gulping back her whiskey. “Colt, I learned a long time ago not to ask a fool question like that. Most times they lie to you about their age anyway. The younger ones say they’re older, and the older gals say they’re younger so you’ll think they have some good years left.” She glanced around the room at the women hustling the cowboys for drinks and tips. “Once the cowboys have enough to drink, it makes no difference anyway. They all look the same through whiskey-colored eyes.”

Colt gave her a measuring look. He could understand her low opinion of men. “I guess I can see your point.”

She glanced back at him. “I know you’ve offered to help some of the gals get out of this business.” Before he could make a comment, she held up her hand to silence him. “I admire that about you, Colt. You don’t have to defend yourself to me. As a God-fearing man, I know you’re trying to do what your conscience tells you.” She picked up the bottle and poured them both another drink. After draining her glass in one gulp, she continued. “But let me tell you, it’s the younger ones who take to this business like a cowboy takes to the saddle. They think they hold the power. Even when they’ve been smacked around by some no-account cowboy, they know he’ll still come back.” She paused, staring into her empty whiskey glass as if she would find answers in the remnants of the golden liquid. “It’s the older gals who want out because they know their days are numbered. Most of them don’t come to a good end.”

Colt absorbed that bit of insight from the woman who was certain to have seen it all and then some. “I reckon we all make our own choices,” he responded.

L. B. put her glass back on the bar. “Now that is a fact.”

Colt looked around the room and spotted the drifter, Gage Hardy, playing poker. In the next moment, Maddie snuggled up beside him, curled her arm through his, and whispered, “I haven’t seen you in here for quite some time.”

“I’ve been busy,” he replied. He thought about asking her to have the cook rustle up some steaks so he could talk to her over dinner. But after his encounter with Lucy, he wasn’t in the mood for more talking. He needed a few hours’ reprieve from the worries of the ranch, the eventual range war, and thoughts of Victoria. It had been his plan to spend some time with Maddie, but when he looked at her made-up face, his mind conjured up another beautiful woman.
What is wrong with me?
He took a sip of his whiskey and glanced at the table where Hardy was seated. “I think I’ll play a few hands of poker.” He extricated his arm from Maddie, grabbed the bottle, and walked to Hardy’s table. “Mind if I join the game?”