Promises Kept (28 page)

She watched as he opened the door for Victoria, and when he disappeared inside, she dropped the curtain in despair. Walking aimlessly around her small room, she stopped when she caught her reflection in the mirror. Staring back at her was a woman she almost didn’t recognize. The reflection exposed what her lifestyle had taken from her. The woman in the mirror had a pallid complexion that belied her years. If she continued drinking, sleeping all day, and carousing all night with men, in a few short years she would see nothing but a wasted image of what she once was. She’d seen this happen to other women at the saloon. Their demise happened slowly and they had been unprepared, taking their youth for granted. Slowly, their regular customers would seek out the younger, prettier gals and they would no longer be in demand. They would have no choice but to move on to another town where women were scarce. Her future was before her and the thought terrified her. She took a deep breath and told herself to calm down. She had to think.

She walked back to the window and stared at the door across the street. If Colt was escorting that woman to church, then it stood to reason he didn’t know about her past. All she had to do was go see him and tell him about her. She knew how he valued honesty. He would certainly end the relationship once he found out Victoria had deceived him. If he didn’t come to the saloon, she would go to his ranch. Once he knew the truth, everything would be the way it was before Victoria came to town. She smiled for the first time in weeks, confident her plan would bring Colt back to her.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Victoria made coffee while Colt sat at the kitchen table with two energetic boys clinging to him. Bartholomew and Mrs. Wellington excused themselves to go for a walk by the river. They tried to get the boys to go with them, but the boys wanted to stay with Colt. Victoria couldn’t help but smile at the threesome. Cade was on top of Colt’s wide shoulders, while Cody was straddling his long outstretched legs. Colt didn’t look nearly as formidable with the boys climbing all over him.

She had come to understand that there was much more to him than his fearsome countenance. There was a gentleness about him, never more evident than in moments like this with the boys, or when he played with Bandit. And with her, she realized. He always treated her like a lady. She smiled to herself, thinking of that morning, when they walked into the church. Every female head in the room snapped around to look at him. She couldn’t blame them; he was certainly a handsome man. She couldn’t fathom why some woman hadn’t snapped him up, like that widow woman at the dance, who couldn’t keep her hands off of him.

Victoria placed a cup of coffee in front of Colt, and pried the boys from him. “It’s time to change out of your Sunday clothes.”

“Aw, do we have to?” Cade whined.

“Let us play some more,” Cody pleaded.

“Listen to your moth . . . Victoria,” Colt said.

“Will you stay?” Cade asked.

“A while longer,” Colt promised.

The boys hurried from the kitchen and Victoria sat in a chair next to him. She was grateful for the chance to speak with him alone. “You were right.”

Colt gazed at her, thinking how beautiful she looked sitting next to him. His chest had swelled with pride when he walked into the church with her on his arm. “It’s not often a woman tells me that,” he teased. “What was I right about?”

“About me being honest with Mrs. Wellington. We talked last night. And you were right when you said my prayers had been answered. I do have a home for the boys now.” All night she’d thought about what he’d said. Maybe her prayers hadn’t been answered on her timetable, but they were answered. “Thank you for the lovely day. It was nice to go to church, and the boys love being with you.”

He thought there was something different about her today. She seemed more relaxed, at least before Wallace showed up at the church. “Do you?”

She knitted her brows together, puzzled by his question. “Do I what?”

“Love being with me?” His dark eyes watched her intently. He couldn’t deny her response was very important to him.

It was time for honesty. Spending the day with him had been one of the best days of her life. For the first time it felt like she had a real family. Going to church, having dinner at the restaurant, these were the simple things a family would do every Sunday. Even though they’d provided the parishioners with gossip to last a month when Wallace showed up, she didn’t mind. It didn’t seem to bother Colt, either. He seemed truly happy, laughing and teasing Tate and the boys. Actually, it was when she was watching him at the restaurant that she realized she was in love with him, or what she thought must be love. She had tried to ignore her feelings for him, partly because she was afraid, but mainly because she didn’t want to have him reject her when he found out about her past. Like Mrs. Wellington, he deserved to know the truth.

Colt leaned toward her. “Well?” he asked somewhat impatiently.

“Yes, I do,” she admitted softly.

Bartholomew and Mrs. Wellington picked that moment to walk into the kitchen before she had a chance to tell Colt everything she intended to say.

“Are we interrupting?” Mrs. Wellington asked, all too aware of the tension in the room.

“I was just going to ask Colt if he would like to take a walk,” Victoria responded.

The look on Colt’s face said he was clearly surprised, but he recovered quickly. “You want me to get the boys?”

“No, I want to talk to you alone.” She looked at Mrs. Wellington, who was smiling from ear to ear. “Would you watch the boys?”

“Of course, dear,” Mrs. Wellington replied. “Now go! Take all the time you want.”

Colt jumped up and snagged his hat from the peg and opened the door before Victoria was out of her chair. Unsure what she had on her mind, he wasn’t a man to kick a gift horse in the mouth. She surprised him again when she didn’t stop on the porch but kept walking toward the barn.

Thank you, Lord
, he thought. It seemed she was having trouble starting the conversation, so he thought he would ease her into it by asking, “You want me to bring Bandit back tomorrow? He’s feeling much better and I think the boys are missing him.”

“Um . . . yes, that would be nice. Or we could come to get him, since I know you have a lot of work to do.”

They walked past the barn, and when they were far enough away that she felt sure they would have a few moments of privacy, she turned to face him. But Colt took her by the hand and gently tugged her into his arms.

“Um . . . Colt, I want to talk to you about . . .” she said before he could do what she knew he had in mind.

“I know, but I have to do this first.” He hadn’t planned to kiss her, but when the right moment presented itself, he could think of nothing else. He put his hand under her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. She didn’t pull away; instead she looped her arms around his neck and moved closer. Kissing her felt so right and she tasted so good, and he really didn’t want to stop. Finally he knew he had to stop before he couldn’t, so he pulled his lips from hers. When she rested her cheek against his chest, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered, his breathing ragged. No woman had ever left him feeling like he was ready to lose control with a few kisses. He could feel her heart thumping wildly against his ribs, or was it his heart beating like he’d just been thrown off a wild horse?

He wanted to know what she was going to talk to him about, but when he pulled back and saw her big blue eyes staring up at him, all thoughts left his brain. All he wanted in that moment was to kiss her again. And he did. She didn’t hold back from him, and when she pressed closer to him, curling her fingers in his hair, his desire was nearly out of control. Both of them were breathing hard, lost in the moment, and when he felt her hand push against his chest, he was momentarily confused by her action. Then he realized someone was calling his name. He wanted to ignore it, but the voice belonged to T. J., so something had to be wrong at the ranch. As much as he hated to stop, he moved away from her and whistled loudly. “T. J., over here.”

T. J. spotted him near the barn and turned his horse. “You better come quick, someone killed Ol’ Ass Kicker.” His eyes landed on Victoria and he nodded in her direction. “Excuse me, ma’am, but that’s his name.”

“What happened?” Colt asked.

“We found him shot in the head, and they got more steers.”

This was terrible news for Colt. Not only was that bull his best breeder and a valuable animal, he was fond of the surly beast. “How many more?”

“About twenty head.”

Colt slapped his thigh with his hat. He really wanted to let out a string of curse words that would turn the air blue, but he was watching his language.

“We just don’t have enough men. We’ve pulled double time for months now,” T. J. lamented out of frustration.

“I know.” He hated to leave Victoria when she wanted to talk to him, but he had to get to the ranch. Not to mention, he wanted more kisses. He turned to her. “I’ve got to go. We can talk later.” He almost kissed her good-bye, but he didn’t know how she would feel about that with T. J. watching. “Tell the boys I’m sorry I had to leave.”

Victoria understood the demands on his time, and she could tell by the look on his face this news was devastating. “Of course, go.”

They’d been on the range all day, and it was late when they stopped for the night. It was an overcast night and Colt had to light a lantern to see. After they cared for their horses, Colt gathered firewood while T. J. threw some coffee beans in a pot and added water from his canteen. Once Colt got the fire going, T. J. put the coffeepot on.

“I wish we could find those culprits in the act,” T. J. told Colt.

“While I was in town I telegraphed the U.S. Marshals office. Maybe we can get some help, since the judge was killed.” Colt had been running on anger and strong coffee for the last several days. He’d hoped to get back to see Victoria before midnight, but it hadn’t worked out that way. Every hand was needed to watch the cattle.

T. J. started to respond when Colt held up his hand at the sound of hoof beats in the distance. They moved away from the fire to stand in the dark, and pulled their pistols. A few seconds later, Tate came into view.

“Colt? T. J.?” Tate whispered.

Colt and T. J. walked from the darkness. “What are you doing out here?” Colt asked.

“I wanted to help. You didn’t tell me I couldn’t come this time,” Tate said sheepishly.

“I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t see you before I left.” Colt figured Tate had intentionally avoided him before he left so Colt couldn’t tell him to stay put. He knew he couldn’t keep the boy from danger forever, no matter how hard he tried. Tate was getting older and he wanted to ride with the men instead of staying close to the house. Colt remembered being his age and he’d already been cowboying alongside his father for several years. At least the boy had remembered to bring a rifle with him. “Who’s with Bandit?” Even though Bandit had recovered Colt didn’t want him to be left alone.

“Rex brought Tom and Helen over to stay the night in case of more trouble.”

“Good.” He wanted to tell Tate to get back on his horse and ride back to the house, but it was a long ride and it was late. Anyone could bushwhack him along the way, and Colt couldn’t spare a man to ride back with him. “You can stay with us, but hang close. I don’t want you riding off by yourself. Now before you settle in, get that saddle off your horse and give him some water.”

Tate flashed that boyish, contagious smile to everyone around him. “Yessir!” He reached in his saddlebag and pulled out a bundle, tossing it to T. J. “Helen sent some sandwiches.”

“Bless her,” T. J. said, opening the cloth and pulling out a sandwich.

“You can say that again,” Colt agreed. It had been a long time since the noon meal. He caught the sandwich T. J. tossed him.

After he cared for his horse, Tate put his bedroll by the fire. “Can I have some of that coffee?”

“I don’t know, youngster, you might wet the bedroll,” T. J. cracked, but he poured him a cup.

“I ain’t no youngster, I’m already as tall as you,” Tate responded indignantly, biting into his sandwich.

It was hard to believe how fast Tate had grown in the last few years. “If you’re so grown up, then you know not to say
ain’t
,” Colt told him.

“The men say it all the time,” Tate argued.

“Yeah, but you know better.”

“Why do cowboys have to speak good English? That Mrs. Wellington speaks proper English and I can hardly understand every other word,” Tate grumbled.

T. J. and Colt both laughed. No argument there, Colt had to admit. Mrs. Wellington occasionally said some words he didn’t understand.

“I sure thought she was going to box Mr. Wallace’s ears at church,” Tate said.

“She wasn’t the only one,” Colt said gruffly.

T. J. looked from Tate to Colt. “Trouble?”

“Nothing that won’t be resolved real soon,” Colt replied, throwing the remnants of his coffee on the ground. “We’d best get some shut-eye. Rance is in the south range with five men and we’ll need to relieve them in three hours. I want those cows watched twenty-four hours a day.” He jumped up and collected some more branches for the fire. After spreading his bedroll, he lay back, rested his head on his saddle, and pulled his hat low over his eyes.

A few minutes later, Tate and T. J. climbed into their bedrolls. The night was quiet and the crackling and hissing sounds of the fire filled the air.

Tate leaned up on one elbow and looked over at Colt. “You gonna marry Miss Victoria?”

Colt flipped his hat off his eyes. “Where in the hel . . . Hades did you get that idea?”

“Well, you never took another woman to church with us. And she sure is pretty. Nice, too.” He was quiet for a minute, then added, “She can really cook. Best pies I ever ate.”

“You had a lot of experience with pies?” T. J. leaned up on his elbow, taking a sudden interest in the direction of the conversation.

Thank goodness for T. J., Colt thought. He didn’t want to think about marriage, much less talk about the possibility.