She stroked the side of his face playfully. “Things seem to have calmed down a bit around here lately, don’t you think?”
He twirled a strand of her hair around one finger and gave her a lazy grin. “Hell, darlin’, it’s been months since you’ve tried to shoot me, anyone has attempted to murder us, or I’ve set something on fire. I guess we’ve settled into being old married folks.”
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “Do you really think so, Sam? She gently rubbed his chest with one hand. “I would hate for people to think we’re boring. Since you broke up the plot the other mine owners were hatching to profit from manipulating the supply of silver, this town has been downright tedious.”
A deep laugh rumbled in his chest. “With all the excitement of the new houses for your miners, our ranch, and a baby, I doubt you’ve had time to become bored.” He patted her gently on the bottom. “But I suspect if we don’t get some clothes on and get down to the willow grove for our son’s baptism, Father Mikelson will come barging in that door searching for us.”
Amanda giggled. “Imagine being caught by the priest in the middle of the day in our bed, naked. That should stir up some interesting gossip.”
“Our reputations might never recover from such a scandal.”
Amanda took a deep breath, savoring the image of her husband’s hard, smooth body. Her fingers gently traced across his skin and she marveled at the warmth, the heat he produced.
She shrugged. “We’re already legendary. It’s probably not a major leap to becoming notorious.”
Sam shook his head sadly. “We might consider poor little Ethan. He will have to grow up in this town.”
“Everyone adores Ethan. He’s the most perfect baby ever born.”
“Spoken like a very proud mother.”
Amanda tossed hair as she grabbed her undergarments.
“And who was the one boasting that his baptism day will be the biggest celebration ever held in Montana territory?”
She tied the ribbons of her petticoat, then wrapped her corset around her full rounded curves. She struggled to fasten the front and frowned at Sam.
“Having a baby certainly creates havoc with one’s figure.”
Sam pulled himself off the bed to stand in front of her. “In my eyes, you’re the most beautiful creature on earth. There isn’t a soft curve”—his fingers brushed against her breast—“an angle, or a line that isn’t perfect on your body.”
She stepped into his embrace, leaning forward to place her head against his chest to listen to the steady cadence of his heart. “Will you always love me, Sam?”
He lifted her chin gently with one finger and gazed into the depths of her eyes. She could see the chocolate highlights flickering in his gaze.
“I promise to love you with every inch of my being, for every moment God allows us to be together. I’ve learned to live each day as if it were my last, because someday...it’s gonna be.”
“I never imagined I could be so happy, Sam. When I first met you, all I could think about was how much I wanted you. It terrified me that my sensual hunger could be so consuming.” She studied the smooth, chiseled line of his jaw carefully. “I thought such desire was sinful, and that I would be destined to burn in hell for eternity in penance for my carnal lust.”
Sam laughed. “Don’t you think a lifetime with a devil for a husband might be enough penance for a good woman like you?”
Amanda smiled. “I thank God every day that you managed to lure me off the path of the straight and narrow.” She gave him a playful look. “If being bad feels this good, being good couldn’t be much of an improvement.”
Sam laughed, the deep rumble in his chest comforting her with its sound. His mouth covered hers and she closed her eyes, allowing contentment to wash over her.
Amanda had learned to cherish her life with Sam and their son, Ethan. Every day was a precious gift from God, and she promised herself her life would be filled with all the happiness she could find.
And she knew better than anyone that a promise kept was one of the most powerful forces on earth.
The End
Special Bonus Short Story
A Winter Welcome
“She’s a fine figure of a woman, Sam. I will say that.”
Samuel Calhoun nearly spit out his cigar. Robert coughed, and tried to hide his grin at his friend’s response. He’d likely shocked Sam with the comment, because while Calhoun was a great admirer of the female form and known to dally with a woman once in a while, Robert was more subdued when it came to romancing the ladies.
“I was beginning to think you were beyond any interest in the fillies,” Sam commented as he sipped his black coffee.
Robert leaned his chair back and considered the lady serving a weary group of travelers on the other side of the dining room. She brushed back a curl that fell into her face before pouring the exhausted looking woman at the table a cup of coffee.
“I own up I ain’t no man whore.” Robert said, never taking his eyes off the mature, voluptuous woman as she swirled though the dining room.
Sam laughed. “Nope, I don’t believe I could ever accuse you of that. Far as I can recall, you hardly ever visit the sportin’ gals, which maybe isn’t natural but I’ve learned to live with your peculiarities.”
Robert snorted. “Particular ain’t exactly the same as being peculiar. I don’t fall in bed with every calico queen we stumble across just to ease an itch. I guess it takes more’n a scrap of petticoat to hold my interest.”
Sam nodded. “A man of high ideals and exacting standards. I admire your principles, Robert.” He raised his coffee cup in salute. “Wish I could say I’d emulate your behavior but I try not to make promises I don’t intend to keep.”
The woman waiting on tables sailed across the room. Her dark brown eyes sparkled as she lifted the coffeepot and nodded at the men. “Can I interest you gentlemen in some more?” Her cheeks were bright red spots of color, and the heat of bustling around the room made the dark black hair sprinkled with
silver highlights curl around her friendly face.
“What’s your name, darlin’?” Sam asked.
She quirked an eyebrow at him and dimples appeared at each corner of her shapely mouth. “I’m Harriet Parmeter, the proprietor of this hotel. And if you’re askin’ so’s you can come courtin’—don’t waste your time on pickin’ flowers for me.” She leaned toward Sam and winked. “I’d rather have some good whiskey instead!”
Both Sam and Robert roared at her spunky response as she poured their coffee then whirled to the table next to them. They watched as she chatted with her customers, brought orders from the kitchen, whisked dirty dishes off the tables and then set them for new customers.
“It appears she’s in need of some help,” Sam commented.
Robert blew on his coffee, lifted his gaze to watch Harriet Parmeter for a moment then shrugged.
“Appears so.”
Sam was silent, then nodded. “An extra pair of hands around this place would be a big help to Mrs. Parmeter. I expect she’d be willing to take on some help, if the offer was put to her right.”
Robert sipped from his cup slowly and took his time as he considered his partner’s comment.
“I s’pect so, what with the town growin’ and her business bein’ brisk, especially on a night like tonight. Everybody for miles around wants to be in town for the New Year’s celebration.” He put the four legs of his chair back onto the floor. “Mayhap I’ll go ask the lady about employment.”
Sam didn’t have time to object as Robert scraped back the chair and rose to his feet. He slipped through the door of the kitchen with a silent, easy gait.
Harriet Parmeter leaned into the oven of the cast iron stove and Robert was met by her round, shapely bottom as she balanced herself to remove a pan. He stopped to take a deep breath. In his opinion, a
woman’s ass was one of the loveliest sights on God’s green earth. If the woman was a full-figured and mature creature, the pleasure was intensified a thousand times for him.
Harriet straightened, turning to put the skillet of cornbread on the table behind her. Her eyes opened wide and a strawberry blush crawled up from her ample bosom to tinge her cheeks when she noticed Robert standing behind her.
“Ya nearly scared me outta my skin, Mister.” She made a noise of disapproval. “Customers ain’t allowed in the kitchen.” She snapped a linen dishtowel in his direction. “Scat! Get yerself back in the dinin’ room and I’ll be out shortly.”
Robert shifted from foot to foot and held his hands behind his back. He wasn’t good at talking, that was Sam’s job. But if they were ever going to succeed at their new assignment, he’d have to find a job that gave him access to miners, travelers and gossip. The dining room of a hotel seemed like the perfect solution. Not to mention the establishment was owned by Harriet Parmeter.
He nodded. “Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am, but seein’ as how you’re so busy and all, I was wonderin’ if you’d have a job for someone like me.” He swallowed, reluctant to look away from the soft brown eyes staring back at him.
Harriet frowned. “I ain’t got no horses to buck-break or cows needin’ to be punched. Most of what I need done around here is emptyin’ slop pails, scrubbin’ floors and haulin’ wood.” She sniffed. “All the men I’ve hired have run-off soon as they got a poke for minin’ or somethin’ better came along.”
Robert nodded. “I understand, and I ain’t plannin’ on stayin’ in these parts much beyond next spring. But I could be a good help ‘til then.”
Harriet was quiet as she put her hands on her hips and sized him up. He blushed as her gaze swept down from the top of his head to the toes of his boots. He wondered if she was going to ask him to open his mouth so she could see his teeth. He almost neighed and fought the urge to stomp a foot.
“You might do, if you ain’t afraid of hard work. I can’t pay much but I’d give you a room to sleep in and three good meals every day.”
Robert nodded. “That sounds fair.”
“What about your handsome friend out there, he lookin’ for work too?”
He shook his head. “I’d say he’s more interested in searching for business opportunities.”
Harriet snorted. “Gambler?”
“Sometimes,” Robert answered. “But he’s got some education and a bit of money. “
Harriet grabbed a knife and started slicing the cornbread. “What’s your name?”
“Robert Holcomb,” he said as he removed his woolen coat and started to roll up the sleeves of his linen shirt. “I’ll just start washin’ up in here right now if you don’t mind.”
Harriet loaded a tray with plates and balanced it across her arm. “I ain’t gonna argue with you, Robert. We got a dinin’ room full of hungry folks in town for the big doin’s tonight and I believe in makin’ hay while the sun shines.” She slipped out the door.
Robert took a tin pan to the reservoir of hot water on the stove and filled it. He returned to the sink and pumped some cold water in it, then grabbed the bar of soap and rubbed it in his hands. He could hear Harriet’s bright, cheerful laughter through the door, and he smiled. So far, he’d seen no sign of a Mr. Parmeter, and he felt a jolt of awareness that hit him without warning. If Harriet wasn’t a widow, it was going to be a real temptation to rein in his desire to make her one.
It was many hours later, after washing a ton of dishes by Robert’s estimation, that he slowly climbed the stairs to the room Harriet had assigned him earlier in the evening. Despite the late hour, the street outside was still filled with the celebration for New Years. The Chinese rockets had been lit hours ago, but men were shooting off their guns as they yelled out their greetings and stumbled through the streets.
There were a lot of drunks out there, Robert concluded, and not being a drinking man he had no desire to go out and join them. His bed was looking pretty good right about now. He might not be able to fall asleep, but he could get his boots off and stretch out.
“Get your hands off me you son-of-a-bitch, or I’ll give out a yell that’ll bring the roof down.”
Robert paused when he recognized Harriet’s voice coming from one of the rooms at the end of the hall.
“Ain’t nobody gonna hear you with that racket out in the street,” a deep voice drawled. “You know you want it, woman, so stop fightin’ me.”
It was all the reason Robert needed to dash up the stairs. He could hear a crash from behind the door and then a muffled thump. He didn’t bother to knock; he kicked at the door and stumbled into the room.
A man lay sprawled across the bed and Harriet Parmeter brushed crockery across the pine floor with her foot. She looked up as Robert stood in the doorway with his gun drawn.
“Damn drunks cost me more in pitchers than they’re worth!” She turned to glance at the man and then shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll charge him an extra dollar tomorrow for the trouble.”
“You can put that gun away, Mr. Holcomb, no need to shoot anybody tonight.” A smile played across her lips. “I do appreciate you comin’ to my rescue though —you’re a regular hero, ain’t you?”
Robert blushed as she closed the door behind her before leaning back against it. She seemed to see him, really see him, for the first time since he’d walked into the kitchen.
“You worked hard tonight and I never heard a word of complaint,” she paused to consider him more, “no cussin’ neither, which I sure appreciate.”
She stepped closer and Robert didn’t move. He could smell her cinnamon, coffee and honey scent and he inhaled deeply. She smelled like warm bread from the oven, sitting by the fire with spiced cider comfort. Harriet Parmeter smelled like home. Her rosy lips formed a sweet smile and his heart thumped against his chest.
She lifted up on her toes to grasp his chin gently. “Happy New Year, Robert,” she whispered before putting her lips on his. He felt frozen to the spot, as if the howling North wind had brought a blizzard into the room. He was too surprised to respond; too afraid she’d pull away from him if he so much as grasped her around the waist to pull her closer. Finally she leaned away from him, a flirt of a smile on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes. She turned to go to her room.
Robert felt like his boots were stuck to the floor. He needed to say something but his mind was blank. She stood outside her room, and he finally found his courage.
“Mrs. Parmeter,” she turned with one hand on the brass doorknob. “I believe we’re in for a special New Year,” he paused to look down at his feet, knowing his neck and face were probably red as a ripe apple. He finally looked up to see a delighted smile on her face. “I. . . I, appreciate you taking me on and giving me work,” he said.
She cocked her head at him like a curious crow sitting on a fence post. “There’s more to you than most folks can see, Mr. Robert Holcomb, it’s gonna be interestin’ to figure you out!”
When she finally closed the door to her room, Robert grinned. “If you only knew, Mrs. Parmeter,” he said softly as he passed her room, “if you only knew.”
###
The End
About the author...
A love for American History drew Deborah to the field of education and she holds a teaching degree in Social Studies with an emphasis on American History. This explains her interest in the American Revolution, the Civil War and Westerns. She resides in a small town near the Cascade Mountains in the Pacific Northwest. She’s the winner of the Molly Award for the most Unsinkable Heroine for Sinclair Redford the heroine of Beneath A Silver Moon. She’s received the Open Book Award from Pacific Northwest Writers, the Stella Cameron Award and was named Librarian of the Year in 2009 by Romance Writers of America. She loves writing about strong, smart women who aren’t afraid to challenge the men they love.
She’s employed by one of the busiest library systems in the U.S., and believes in the power of books to change lives.
Visit her at http://www.debschneider.com
Twitter: @cowgirlibrary
Facebook: Deborah Schneider
For more about her paranormal and steampunk books written as Sibelle Stone,
Visit http://www.sibellestone.com
Thank you for taking the time to read, “Promise Me”. If you enjoyed this book, please review it at the website where you purchased it.
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