Promise Me

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Promise Me Page 21

by Deborah Schneider


  Amanda gave the woman a sad smile. “We should be grateful to Arthur Wainwright. It’s his money that’s paying for all of this. I’m sorry Arthur missed the opportunity to see how happy he could make other people. I’m learning to never pass up the opportunity for happiness, because you might not get that chance again.”

  Margaret Abbott nodded. “You got that right, honey. If God hands you dandelions instead of roses, you better learn how to make wine.”

  Amanda grinned and walked up the stairs. Is that what God was offering her? Dandelions? She wrinkled her nose. Roses would certainly be preferable, but when she considered the humble dandelion, she had to admit it was admirable. The bright yellow flower attracted children who considered them beautiful. The seeds could be scattered with a soft whisper, to carry wishes across the countryside. The deep, tenacious roots couldn’t be destroyed or ripped out, despite all efforts one exerted to remove them. Perhaps it was preferable to be a stubborn weed rather than a delicate blossom, destined to need pampering and care.

  Lydia Brown nodded to her when she entered Caleb’s room. “He’s comfortable. We moved him already this morning, and Doc says there’s no sign of bedsores.”

  Amanda stared at the pale young face against the pillow and fought the urge to cry. He was just a boy, and the pain of seeing him so weak and helpless gnawed at her. He had sustained a beating clearly intended for her. “I’ll sit with him for a little while, until Margaret needs me.” Amanda settled into the maple rocker and folded her hands on her lap.

  Lydia brushed at the calico dress she wore and grinned at Amanda. “Don’t fret about Margaret. I haven’t seen her in such a good mood in years. She’s got every available man scrambling to do her bidding and she loves it.”

  Amanda leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. “Just come up and get me when you need some help. I’m not feeling well this morning, but it usually passes by noon.”

  She regretted her confession when she opened her eyes and found Lydia staring at her with certain knowledge shining on her face. “Oh my,” she said, before quietly exiting the room.

  Amanda bit her lip. What a foolish thing to say to the mother of three children. Now her condition would be a topic of discussion amongst all the women. It was only a matter of time before the gossip reached Sam’s ears.

  She brushed aside her worries. Before the night was over, he would hear the truth from her lips. She planned to give him the opportunity to choose a life with his family.

  She’d give Sam one more chance. If he turned and walked away this time, she’d never let him come back.

  ***

  The Chinese lanterns stretched across the mowed area, creating a pattern of orange, red, and gold light. The tables were set at angles to each other, and snow-white linen tablecloths covered them. Candles sat inside mason jars, and small baskets of artfully arranged daisies, roses, and ivy decorated the tables. Silver, china, and crystal gleamed at each setting. Sam gave a low whistle at the simple yet elegant design.

  He’d stayed away from the Miners’ Association all day. Since Walter had been helping his mother with preparations, he served as Sam’s spy, returning to the office with several reports. With wide eyes, the young man had described the plans for the Miners’ Ball. Pride surged through Sam as he looked around the hayfield that stood behind the Miners’ Association. Amanda had created a miracle.

  Sam imagined how beautiful she’d look tonight, even if she didn’t wear the gown he’d purchased for her. Her auburn hair would be burnished as a thousand small flames danced in highlight. He imagined her laughter, a clear, tinkling sound echoing in the soft shadows of early evening. Her emerald eyes would shine with pride, or at least he hoped they would.

  He cursed his pact with Father Mikelson. He’d made a bargain with the devil himself. All of his lofty arguments went sailing out the window like Amanda’s dress yesterday afternoon when he considered the reality of losing her. There wasn’t enough whiskey in the territory to dull the ache in his heart. Now, more than anything, he wanted to spend the evening with her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and waltz with her, nibbling on her ear while whispering lewd, suggestive comments.

  The hard length of his cock jumping to attention reminded him of the long, delightful nights he’d spent making love to Amanda. Exquisite nights he’d never forget, and never have again.

  He tossed the cigar he’d been smoking to the ground and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. He could stand here and torture himself all evening with fantasies, or get back to his office and try to ignore the laughter and music that would drift down the street. Tonight would have been the perfect time to lose himself between the legs of one of Mrs. Holt’s whores, but they no longer interested him.

  Amanda was a rare, unique, and delicious wine, and his palate was spoiled for anything else. When she rode out of town in the morning, his heart would go with her.

  Turning to leave, he stopped in his tracks. A vision of loveliness stood before him. Her green eyes studied him as she stepped forward and boldly tilted her face to give him a coy smile. He tensed, a raging hunger sweeping through him. His heart kicked in his chest, and his pants felt so snug in the crotch he was sure the buttons would pop off.

  “Leaving so soon, Sam? The party hasn’t even started yet.”

  He swallowed and wondered if he could force any words from his mouth. She had piled her hair on top of her head, and the highlights danced in the light just as he’d imagined. Several long russet curls trailed down a bare shoulder. Her bosom rode high at the lace-trimmed edge of the bodice, allowing Sam to feast his eyes on the creamy skin and deep channel between the twin globes. The dress hugged her full curved figure, the satin wrapping her in an embrace that made him jealous. The simple lines and elegant drape flattered her more than he’d imagined possible. What had he called her yesterday? A butterfly? She was that, and more.

  “You’ve made magic here, Amanda. You should be proud of yourself.”

  She stepped closer, and the scent of lilacs swirled around him. He inhaled deeply, wishing he had a daguerreotype to capture her image to sustain him through the long lonely nights of the rest of his life.

  “I am proud, Sam.” She looked about the outdoor room then regarded him. “I believe you were correct yesterday. I’m stepping out from the shadows and into the light.” Her soft strawberry-hued lips lifted delicately to give him a gentle smile. “Don’t you think it’s time I take control of my own life?”

  Sam trembled as she picked a piece of lint from his frock coat. She patted his lapel gently, and the tip of her tongue circled to wet her lips. He wanted to crush her to him, push her to the ground, and caress her until she whimpered, begging him to take her. He shuddered, imagining her legs spread wide, his fingers gliding into her moist center until she panted with her need for him. She was a wanton temptress. He took a deep breath to compose himself. He was too hot, too hard, and too hungry for her; he had to get away.

  “I was hoping you would stay and dance with me tonight, Sam.”

  “You know I can’t do that, Amanda.” Damn, he wanted to, but he couldn’t.

  “Can’t or won’t?” Her fingers caressed the fabric of his coat and found the edge of his vest. She made a path to the gold watch he had tucked into his pocket, and he stood speechless, wondering where her fingers would travel next. She was playing with him, teasing him. Damn it. A hot, molten trail of desire whipped through him at her touch. His cock was hard as oak and his testicles felt like cannon balls hanging between his legs.

  With boldness he didn’t expect, she swept her hand across the buttons of his trousers to rub him enticingly. Sam was close to losing control, nearly blinded by lust. He grabbed her hand and gave her a sharp look of warning.

  “I thought you knew better than to play with fire.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “After all, you don’t want to get burned do you?”
>
  He suckled the tip of each finger, and she trembled.

  “Maybe I’m a moth instead of a butterfly. It could be worth dancing with the flame to experience that wonderful flash of heat.”

  Her words shocked him and enticed him at the same time. Liquid fire pooled in his belly as he imagined the kind of heat he could generate with Amanda. “You are a temptress tonight, my sweet.” He dropped her hand. “And I’m not even going to pretend I can resist you.”

  He turned to walk away, regretting each step that carried him out of her life forever. If he didn’t get away soon, he’d succumb to her wiles and take her right here on the ground. If that happened, he’d never have the strength to leave her again. His honor, his career, his country. None of it would matter.

  Her laughter startled him. It reminded him of the soft rustle of birch leaves in the early spring breeze.

  “You can’t escape from me you know.”

  He turned to face her, knowing his astonishment must show on his face. “I beg your pardon?”

  She lifted one finely arched eyebrow. “Can’t you see? You keep walking away from me over and over again. How many times have you said good-bye, Sam? How many times have you strolled out the door, only to discover yourself back to face me again?”

  Her question lingered in the air, unanswered. He studied her. She was different tonight. Confident. With the look of a woman who had faced her demons and struck them down, whipping them into submission. He swallowed, aware of the heavy thud of his heart as the blood rushed through his body.

  “I believe, for the sake of your manly pride, you have to pretend you don’t want or need me.”

  Sam stared as she lit the candles on the tables. Her skin appeared to be sprinkled with stardust. It glowed in the reflection of the lamps, and he struggled to get his powerful arousal under control.

  “I know the truth about you, Sam. I know a truth you won’t even face.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Despite what you’ve said, you won’t let me ride out of town and leave you forever.”

  A bead of sweat formed on Sam’s brow and he wiped it away with his forearm. Her words frightened him, because he knew them for the truth.

  “Are you so sure of me, Amanda?”

  She stepped closer. “I’m sure of me, Sam. For the first time in my life, I know what I want.”

  She turned to pick up a small bouquet of flowers and inserted one into each arrangement. Was she putting dandelions into the baskets?

  “Do you always get what you want, little girl?”

  She blinked up at him, turquoise highlights glittering in the depths of her emerald eyes “Up until now, no. I almost never got what I wanted.” She continued to work on the flower arrangements. “But that was my own fault. I have always been willing to settle for less. I’ve let other people make decisions for me, but I know better now.”

  He was intrigued by her observation. “So, you’ll get me because it’s what you want.”

  She brushed at one of the tablecloths and grinned. “I’ll get you because you love me as much as I love you. You won’t let me go because you know how good our life will be if we’re together.”

  Blood rushed to Sam’s head, and he was glad to be leaning against one of the fence posts, because he might have tipped sideways otherwise. “What did you say?”

  “I love you, Sam.” She lifted her head to give him a dazzling smile. “I plan to stay married to you. And even if you made some kind of foolish agreement with Father Mikelson, it doesn’t matter. He should be here by tomorrow morning, and then we can straighten this whole mess out.”

  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 floated 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.”

 

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