Promise Me

by Deborah Schneider

  “It’s over.” He shifted position and gathered her closer into his arms. She snuggled against him, and he covered them with the quilt that had slipped to the floor during their lovemaking.

  They lay together, and he fought with his emotions, knowing he could use their tryst to destroy Amanda and achieve all of his goals. Yet also understanding that despite his agreement with the mine owners, and the possible threat to his mission, he couldn’t hurt her.

  “You still have to go, regardless.” He tightened his jaw. “Maybe even because of this.”

  Her head shot up, the expression on her face reflecting her confusion.

  “So, is that what this was about, Sam? You wanted me, but now that you’ve made it into my bed, you’ll get rid of me as soon as possible?” Tears shimmered in her eyes and she brushed them away.

  His arm tightened around her. It was painful to say the words, and he regretted what he was forced to do. It was for her own good, he kept repeating to himself, to protect her.

  “I care about you, Amanda. Too much to let anyone hurt you.” He let one finger gently trace down her cheek. “But, you’re still in danger. There are men determined to stop you and your Miners’ Benevolent Association.”

  “I told you before, I’m not afraid of hooligans who try to scare me with veiled threats.”

  Sam frowned. “You have your Pinkertons, right?”

  She blushed and tried to hide her face. He wasn’t going to give up.

  “When does your agent expect them to arrive from Chicago?”

  Amanda didn’t answer. Finally, he lifted her chin gently to force her to look into his eyes.

  “There are no Pinkertons, are there, Amanda?” She remained silent, and a flush of dark color slid across her cheeks.

  He swore under his breath before releasing her. Climbing out of bed, he gathered his clothes. “I’m going to make arrangements for you to get out of Willow Creek, today if possible.” He searched for his other boot, swore again, and leaned over to look under the bed.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve finished what I came here to do. I made a deathbed promise to Arthur, and I refuse to be run out of town.” Amanda folded her arms and cocked her head.

  Sam stood up to stare at her. A muscle near the edge of his cheek began to throb. “You will leave in the morning if possible. The day after at the latest.”

  She shook her head and held out one hand to study a cuticle carefully. “I don’t believe I will.”

  “You can’t stay here. I told you, it’s dangerous.” Waving the lone boot around, Sam exploded in anger. “These men are killers. You can’t protect yourself.”

  “I know—that’s why I need you.” She thinned her lips and twirled a lock of copper-colored hair as she waited for his reaction.

  He stared at her in silence and wondered if he should simply storm out of the room. Why was she being so disagreeable? He was only trying to protect her by getting her to leave town. Did she expect him to become her bodyguard? To spend each day dogging her steps and every night exploring the boundaries of desire in her bed? His mind filled with images of those possibilities. He shook his head to clear it.

  She seemed to know she had the advantage now, and she didn’t waste any time considering the consequences. Flinging the quilt aside, she stood in front of him, naked and vulnerable.

  “Please, Sam,” she begged, “I need you.” Her fingers slid up his chest. He swallowed, but he knew he was softening.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking, Amanda. I’m not the kind of man a woman can rely on, believe me.”

  “If you send me away, there won’t be any more passionate, sweet nights making love.” She placed her lips on his skin and her tongue skimmed across the exposed flesh. Heat sizzled through his veins.

  That’s good, because if I continue behaving like this with the Widow Wainwright, I’m a doomed man. But he couldn’t form the words to send her away when her arms were encircling his neck, pulling him down toward her.

  Her body leaned into him, and the places their bare flesh met seared him. “I can’t,” he protested, thinking he should push her away, yet aware he couldn’t muster the courage.

  She kissed him eagerly with a confidence that swept away all of his illusions about sending her anyplace she didn’t want to go. Her tongue moved from the center of his chest toward his navel, and the power of his desire increased with every inch. Her fingers traced the outline of his erection as she lingered at the top button of his trousers. She lifted her eyes and arched a well-shaped eyebrow.

  Blood rushed through his body and pooled in his nether regions.

  He needed to say something, do something, but the tension, the waiting, the wondering if she would...

  He had his answer and his bones melted along with any resistance. Amanda drew him into her mouth, and he knew in an instant he could never send this woman away. He was her captive in a prison constructed of his own passion and need. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time, and he fell into an abyss of sensual pleasure.

  Chapter Eight

  “I can arrange it easy enough, Amanda,” Harriet Parmeter said, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “But, are you sure about this? It’s a small town. The people who live here love to gossip. It’s about all the entertainment we’ve got.”

  Amanda brushed crumbs off her lap and gave the hotel owner a smug smile. “I want them to talk, it’s the key to my plan.” She spread raspberry jam across the muffin she held in her left hand, then waved the knife to punctuate her words.

  “If people know Samuel Calhoun is protecting me, they’ll think twice before interfering with my work.” She dropped the knife and took a bite of the muffin, savoring the sweet flavor.

  Harriet tapped her fingers on the oilcloth. Amanda wondered at the woman’s reluctance to assist her. After all, it was Harriet who had informed her that widows were not given the intense scrutiny conferred on virgins. Nor were they expected to adhere to the rigid rules and expectations of society. Losing a husband gave widows permission to ignore some of the silly rules that governed women. A fair trade-off, in Amanda’s opinion.

  She knew Harriet struggled with the concept of moving Sam into the room next to hers. The room with the connecting doorway. It was the perfect means for turning Sam into her protector. Once she arranged all the details with Harriet, she’d hurry to the lumberyard and tell him. She sipped the rich, dark coffee and tried to imagine his reaction. Sam didn’t seem to be a man who would enjoy being told what to do.

  She had discovered a way to manipulate him though, with soft, silky caresses and blazing desire and need. But she’d only just awakened her sensual side and had no idea how long lust worked on a man. Perhaps he’d quickly grow tired of her and she’d lose her advantage. She wished she could ask Harriet about the powers of sensuality, but even though the woman was becoming a friend, those kinds of questions were too intimate.

  She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with the linen napkin, then folded it carefully and settled it next to her plate.

  “Tell your boarder I’ll pay his rent for the next month if he’ll move to another room.” Amanda stood and brushed the soft dark silk of her gown before picking up her bag.

  “I’m sure Sam will want to move in right away, so could you have the room cleaned as soon as possible?”

  “You discussed this with Sam, right?” Harriet held the tray of dirty dishes on her hip and waited for Amanda to answer.

  Amanda adjusted her lace cuffs and avoided eye contact with Harriet. “Sort of. I mentioned that he would be the best choice to provide protection from the men who have been making threats against me.” She raised her gaze to the ceiling, trying to look innocent. “I simply need to convince him he’s perfect for the job.”

  Harriet started to clear the dishes, shook her head, and snorted. “You’d best not count your chickens befo
re you talk to him about it. Sam ain’t the kind of man who welcomes anyone makin’ decisions for him. He’s strong-willed, and it takes a tender hand with his sort.”

  Amanda winked at her friend. “I’ve used all the tender persuasion I can muster. Now I’ll try to appeal to his heroic side.”

  “Good luck, but don’t be too disappointed if he refuses to move. Sam likes his freedom to come and go. Movin’ in here to take care of you could look like the first step to gettin’ hitched, and he’s one fella who doesn’t fancy the idea of bein’ tied down.”

  Amanda tossed her head. “I have no intention of ever tying myself to another man. Marriage is for women who think they need a man to make decisions for them.” She adjusted her hat and gave Harriet a confident smile. “I’m beginning to discover I like making my own decisions and taking care of myself. Most of the time, anyway.” She laughed and gave Harriet a sly look. “But, men do have their uses.”

  Harriet’s laughter trailed behind her as Amanda strode out onto the boardwalk. Several people nodded in greeting, and she realized she was becoming someone of importance in Willow Creek. The dry grocer stopped sweeping the front stoop of his store to inquire about her day. Amanda smiled at the good nature of these folks.

  Apparently, not everyone was opposed to her efforts to improve the town and the plight of the miners. Good, honest people welcomed her. She couldn’t give up because a small, ugly contingent didn’t approve of her benevolence. After all, didn’t the Bible bless her for seeking to care for the poor and the forgotten? She needed to remember that, in her good works, she served the Lord.

  Lifting her nose proudly, she tried to ignore a rough element hanging out in front of the saloon. Several men lounged against the wall in chairs. She stepped around them and kept her eyes focused forward.

  “Well boys, take a gander at this. A real, honest- to-goodness lady.” One of the men leaned his chair forward and stood up, blocking her way. She straightened her shoulders and refused to look away, even though her stomach lurched.

  “I would appreciate it if you would allow me to pass.” Her voice squeaked, and her cheeks heated.

  The man bowed, but when he raised his head, an evil glint flashed in his eye. “The cost to pass is just one lil’ kiss.”

  Amanda raised herself up to her full height, which put the top of her head at the level of his chin. “How dare you suggest such a thing? Can’t you see I’m recently widowed? Please, just let me pass.” Amanda tried to brush past him, but one thick-fingered hand stretched out to grasp her upper arm. She fought the urge to scream and pound her fists against him.

  “From what I hear, pretty young widows can be real fond of kissin’”. He pulled her toward him as she struggled to escape the unwanted embrace.

  “Unhand Mrs. Wainwright, or I’ll deposit a bullet in that space beneath your ribs where your heart should be.”

  Amanda whipped her head about to find Robert Holcomb staring down the men accosting her. She dropped to her knees and relief washed over her.

  The ruffian released his hold and stepped back. His eyes measured Robert, the man who helped Harriet out around the hotel. He tipped his hat at Amanda.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. Guess seein’ such a pretty lady walking down the street dulled my good sense.” He sat back down with the other men and allowed her to pass.

  The other men teased her tormentor as she continued down the street.

  “Thank you, Mr. Holcomb.” She smiled up at him.

  He bowed to her. “Please, call me Robert. I’m glad I could be of assistance.” He offered her his arm. “Would you allow me to escort you to your destination?”

  Amanda nodded. “I would appreciate your company. I didn’t realize I might be troubled by the tough element in this town.”

  Robert nodded. “Willow Creek is a bit rough around the edges, and all sorts of folks wander in here. You might want to have an escort when you’re walking about town.”

  They arrived in front of the Calhoun Lumber Company and Robert backed away, lifting his hat.

  Amanda breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh, clean smell of pine. She heard the sharp whine of saws cutting trees into board lengths. From all appearances, Sam operated a profitable business. Workers bustled about, loading lumber onto wagons.

  Arthur had indulged her interest in business by teaching her the intricacies of commerce. It had amused him to solicit her opinions, and he’d even confessed to instituting some of her suggestions. Of course, he’d never admitted to anyone that she had originated them. She opened the door to the offices and walked in with as much confidence as she could muster. Sam probably would not appreciate her coming to his office to speak with him. But she’d created the perfect ruse, and she didn’t think he’d cause a fuss in front of his employees.

  A young man in a threadbare jacket stood up from his desk and nodded at her. “May I help you, ma’am?”

  Amanda stepped forward to thrust one gloved hand toward him. “I need to speak to Mr. Calhoun regarding a lumber purchase. Could you announce that Mrs. Wainwright is here to see him?”

  The young man swallowed, a flush rising from his shirt collar to his forehead. He twisted his head to frown at the closed door, then turned back to awkwardly extend his own hand.

  “He’s got, um, some business associates with him right now, ma’am. Would you care to wait?”

  Amanda looked around, but didn’t see an extra chair. She tried to make her smile friendly.

  “I can wait, but would it be possible for you to find me a place to sit?” She leaned forward and gave him another playful smile. “I confess, these boots are new and they give my big toe a terrible cramp.”

  The young man stumbled back, then grabbed his own chair and brought it forward. She gathered her skirts and settled onto the oak surface with an air she hoped suggested she wandered into lumber offices every day to conduct business.

  “Do you think the wait will be long, Mister...” She waited for him to fill in the blank.

  He blushed again and hung his head. “Walter Abbott, ma’am.” He lifted his gaze from studying the floor and gave her a boyish grin. “I’m real pleased to meet you. My pa’s one of the Wainwright miners, and well, we all, I mean my whole family and all, we appreciate the things you’re doin’. My ma says you’re a real fine Christian woman.”

  Amanda nodded. “Thank you, and tell your mother I look forward to meeting her.”

  Walter Abbott puckered his brow. “But, ma’am, Ma ain’t the type to go to fancy socials or tea parties and such. It ain’t likely the two of you will be meetin’ up.”

  Amanda considered his statement. This very thing had been bothering her for days. She would see the miners at the association if they needed something, but there was so much more she needed to do. She must meet with some of the women to discover what they needed to make their lives better. “I would enjoy meeting your mother, Walter. But”—she lifted her eyes to plead with him—“I don’t know how to get to know the wives of the miners.

  Perhaps you could help me?”

  Walter shifted his weight to his other leg and looked uncomfortable. “The rich women of this town just look down their noses at our kinda folks. They think they’re better’n us. Fact is, Mr. Calhoun took a chance takin’ me on.” He brushed at a lock of sandy- brown hair that had fallen into his eyes. “But he said I had potential. I didn’t rightly know what that was, but he caught me stealin’ boards to fix up our shack and instead of turnin’ me in to the law, he gave me a chance to work for him.”

  Walter straightened his shoulders. “I’m learnin’ a trade. That means I don’t have to live underground twelve hours every day. I’m proud to say I can read and write, and I’m right clever at cipherin’. Rich folks don’t have no right to look down on me and my kin.”

  Amanda stood and clapped her hands. “I absolutely agree with you, Walter. That�
�s why I want to meet with the women. I need to talk with the wives and daughters of the miners. I want to make Willow Creek a better place for them to raise their families, and I need their help to do it.”

  Walter blinked at her. “I can talk to my ma and see what she says. She’s got some influence with the other women, ‘cause of Pa bein’ a foreman and all.”

  Amanda thrust her hand forward again. “It’s a deal, thank you, Walter. And if she decides she would meet with me, tell her to come to the Benevolent Association, it’s...”

  She didn’t finish because Walter was laughing. She pulled her hand back and frowned at him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but everyone knows where you located the Miners’ Association. Fact is, most of the womenfolk in town have been curious to see the inside of that parlor house for years. That alone should be enough to bring ‘em callin’.”

  Amanda laughed with Walter until they were interrupted by the bang of a door being thrown open. Sam’s voice bellowed as several older men exited his office.

  “I said the deal is off. I can’t be expected to do something that goes against my own conscience.”

  One of the men turned back toward Sam and shook a fist. “You led us to believe you didn’t have a damned conscience, Calhoun. There ain’t no going back on a deal once it’s made.”

  All three older men stopped suddenly when they discovered she was sitting in the outer office. They glared at her with angry eyes and such malevolent expressions of dislike that she cringed. Without another word, they donned their hats and marched out into the street.

  Sam started to stomp out after them, but came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of her. Amanda?” He glanced toward the outer door, seemed about to say something, then shook his head.

  He clenched his fists, heaved a deep sigh, and turned to her. “How long have you been here?”

  She bestowed her sweetest, warmest smile upon him. “Only a few minutes, and this nice young man, your clerk...”