Promise Me Texas (A Whispering Mountain Novel)

by Jodi Thomas

  “I heard,” Andrew admitted. The uncle must have been terrible to them if they were willing to run off.

  “Now that I’ve seen my sons again, I swear to you, this time I’ll do right by them. I’ll find a job and make a life that includes them.”

  “Once you get out of the robes?” Benjamin didn’t seem to be in any hurry to give up regular meals, and the longer he stayed the harder it might be to leave the boys.

  “Of course, the robes will go as soon as I’m out of sight.” The little man folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I think there is a possibility my calling could be teaching. After all, it’s much like acting. You stand in front of an audience and project. I never had formal training, but growing up in a traveling medical wagon, I spent my days reading the classics. The people traveling with us always had things to teach me: world history, math, card tricks. I’ve always thought I had better training than most colleges offer.”

  The little man smiled. “You should see how fast I’m teaching Madie to read. We work at least three times a day, and she’s flying through the lessons.”

  Andrew almost felt sorry for Benjamin. He wondered how many men hid behind one mask or another. In truth, Benjamin’s lie didn’t seem any worse than his own. “Get a real job, and I’ll bring the boys to you. No one here will have to know you’re playing a role.”

  “You’d really do that for me?” The man stilled, as if waiting for the catch.

  Andrew nodded. “As long as you promise not to steal anything from the McMurrays.”

  He looked offended. “I may be many things, sir, but a thief is not one of them.”

  As he walked out, Andrew couldn’t help but wonder if the man was telling the truth or simply playing another role. Maybe it didn’t matter. After all, since he’d met Beth even he didn’t seem to be able to tell the difference.

  Before he could settle in to write, his almost-bride bumped her way into the cabin with a huge box.

  She smiled at him. “You look very handsome, husband.”

  He stood, not reaching for his cane for the first time since he’d been shot. “Thank you, darling. What do you have there?”

  “Mail.” She dumped the box in the middle of the bed.

  Week-old newspapers from New York and Washington tumbled out, as well as a few books he’d ordered months ago. Among all the boxes and rolled papers were envelopes. Big brown ones. Small white ones. Andrew dove into the pile, feeling like it was Christmas morning.

  She caught his excitement. “What can I do to help?”

  “Start opening,” he said. “I’ve missed news of the world so badly.”

  As he pulled open the first newspaper, she slit the end of an envelope and shook a single piece of paper out. A bank note tumbled out.

  He was too busy reading the headlines to pay her much attention until she whispered, “Money. One hundred dollars. In payment for your first story in the Ghost Cat of Bailey Boardinghouse series.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” She squealed and hugged him, then quickly pulled away to open another letter.

  The newspapers were forgotten as they opened everything. Some asked for more details on a story; a few said, Not at this time, but send more; but most held money orders or bank notes. When Beth stood and spread the payments out on the table, she said simply, “You’re rich. There must be a thousand dollars here.”

  “Thanks to you,” he said. “I never send out more than a few at a time. This . . . this is enough to buy a house.”

  “No. You wrote them, Andrew. I just got them ready to mail. It was a small part.” She smiled, obviously pleased with herself. “I think we should get back to work today. You’ve been writing for days; it’s time I started typing out the pages. Where is that beast? I’m ready to face him and type away.”

  He touched her hair, thinking how he’d missed the simple act. Pulling her against him in a gentle hug, he whispered, “We make a good team.”

  She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “We do, and I’ve missed you. Is the bear who lives in this cabin gone?”

  He didn’t even act like he didn’t understand what she meant. They’d been together all week, but not like this, not touching. “He’s gone and not coming back. I needed time to heal and think.” He leaned down until his forehead pressed against hers. “I’ve missed being this close. Forgive me for being so hard to put up with.”

  “There is nothing to forgive.”

  He couldn’t fight the need for her any longer. He lowered his mouth and kissed her like he’d never kissed another. The warmth of her body moving against him washed away all reason. Being with her couldn’t be as bad as being without her. It couldn’t. The gods wouldn’t play that cruel a trick.

  For a long while he held her, thinking of nothing but how dearly he’d missed the feel of her.

  Finally, she gently shoved him away. “I’ll make you lunch, and then we’ll work.”

  He nodded, hoping he could pull his thoughts together enough to form sentences. When he moved to his desk, he heard her humming.

  The morning passed into afternoon with her always near. When he watched her work at the typewriter she called the beast, he stood close, letting his hand move into her hair. The feel of her ginger curls, now unbound, warmed him from inside out. Their days together were numbered and he didn’t want to waste any more time.

  When she walked near his desk to ask a question, she’d lean into his shoulder as she stood beside his chair. They were communicating again with far more than words. There would be time, oceans of time, to be lonely when they parted, but right here, right now, he wanted to remember one slice of happiness.

  As he worked, he forged every detail of the day into his memory. The cool breeze from the open door. The stove popping away almost as regularly as the ticking of a clock. The sounds she made, humming when she was thinking, scolding herself when she made a mistake. Touching him lightly when she passed as if checking to make sure he was real.

  When the sun ran a long stream of light across the cabin floor, she stood and stretched her back. “I’d better stop and go pick up dinner or it will be dark before I get back to the house tonight.”

  “Stay with me.” He looked over his shoulder.

  “For dinner?”

  “Yes, and for the night.” He watched her carefully, realizing he’d said almost the same words before changing his mind and sending her away. “I don’t want to let you go. Not tonight.” He almost added, Not ever, but those two words would shatter the last wall he’d built to keep everyone away.

  Even if he were fool enough to fall in love again, she wouldn’t have him as a real husband. He had nothing to offer. But it was time for him to fully play this game she’d invented; then the memories would be real even if the marriage wasn’t.

  She moved beside him, her hand resting on his shoulder. “I’ll come for dinner,” she said. “I’m not sure either of us could handle more.”

  He nodded. “We’ll start with dinner.”

  CHAPTER 32

  BETH DROVE THE WAGON BACK TO THE MAIN HOUSE, trying to sort out her feelings. Andrew had asked her to be real with him, not to pretend, and all day she had been. She really wanted him, but she wanted love from him as well. A marriage built on need would never work, but if he offered, she’d be willing to turn their pretend marriage into a real one.

  If he’d just say he loved her once. If . . .

  She’d heard the word love used too many times to believe it had much purpose. He’d said the loss of another love would kill him. She’d never loved anyone like that. To her, a man who’d loved too deeply and a woman who’d never loved seemed a poor match.

  But when she lost him, would she forever wish she’d at least persuaded him to try? Maybe she was as spoiled as the family thought she was, but she didn’t want him just to have him to herself. She wanted Andrew because he needed her, and he was too dumb to know that she’d be good for him. In an odd way, being needed fel
t like being loved even if he wouldn’t say the words.

  A tear dripped down her cheek. “What will I do,” she whispered to Whispering Mountain as it loomed before her, “when Andrew is no longer in my life?” A part of her believed the lie she told everyone in Dallas after the train wreck. She’d said it was love at first sight. A part of her wanted to believe it still. She knew, when she lost him, she’d grieve, for her mind couldn’t seem to convince her heart that she was only pretending.

  As she neared the house, Beth noticed a horse that didn’t belong to the McMurrays tied up at the end of the porch. Her first reaction was to reach for the rifle beneath her wagon bench. Only reason told her no one could have crossed the bridge without a warning shot being fired, so the guest must be friend, not foe.

  Maybe her father was back from Austin. They’d been waiting for news about what had happened when they caught up with the senator. He could have taken the train, borrowed a mount at the station, and come home to tell them all about it.

  Beth jumped from the wagon. Even if Lamont claimed self-defense, which wasn’t likely since Andrew wasn’t armed, he’d get some jail time. Prison wasn’t exactly what he was used to, and a Texas prison would be a lower level of hell for a man who thought he deserved only the best.

  As she ran up the steps she realized this all might be over in a few moments. All. The good and the bad.

  She slowed. All but Andrew. That wasn’t over, not now, maybe not ever.

  When she walked into the parlor, a lean cowboy stood by the window. He wore the chaps of a seasoned rancher, bloodied and scratched, and the Mexican spurs of a wrangler.

  For a moment she didn’t recognize him. He’d gained weight and hardened in the month since he’d ridden away with Ranger Slim Bates.

  “Colby?” Beth whispered.

  He turned grinning. “Mrs. McLaughlin.”

  When he started to offer his hand, Beth pushed it aside and hugged him. “Oh, Colby, we’ve been so worried about you. How are things? Did you find the men who killed your pa? How are you surviving out on the ranch alone? You look like you’ve been eating regular.”

  Colby laughed. “You’ll have to slow down a little, ma’am. I know I’ve been gone awhile but I’m not fast enough to catch up all at once.”

  Beth took his arm. “Fair enough. Have you eaten? We’ll start there.” She pulled him along to the kitchen. “The boys and Madie will be so happy to see you. They talk about you all the time. Madie’s read your letters so many times they’re falling apart.”

  Colby stopped walking. “I’ve been riding hard, ma’am; I was wondering if I could wash up first. I saw a stand at the side of the house.”

  “Of course, but use the mudroom. I’ll tell the others you’re here and we’ll all meet in the kitchen. You can wash up while I put something on the table.” She pointed him toward the back of the house. “My family rode into Anderson’s Glen for a town hall meeting, so it’ll just be us for supper.”

  He smiled. “Like it was at the house in Fort Worth?”

  She pulled him along. “Except for Andrew. He’s recovering over in a cabin by the stream, but he’ll come in for breakfast tomorrow if he knows you’re here.”

  “I need to talk to him soon.” Colby lowered his voice. “Sheriff Harris out of Dallas stopped by my place and told me Chesty Peterson told one of the other prisoners that when he broke out he was going to hunt McLaughlin down.”

  “Andrew already knows that, but don’t worry, he’s safe here. We had another little problem with Senator LaCroix, but I’ll let Andrew tell you all about that. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

  “Thanks, but I’ll be heading back day after tomorrow. It does feel like home with all of you here.”

  She knew what he was thinking. For a few days they’d been their own kind of mixed-up family.

  Colby disappeared into the mudroom as Beth asked the cook to set a few more places at the table. She ran upstairs and told Madie and the boys that they’d be having company for dinner, then asked Father Benjamin to go fetch Andrew. She’d surprise Colby, and Andrew would come knowing he was here.

  Twenty minutes later, Beth was putting stew and cornbread on the table when Madie walked in, all smiles. She’d combed her hair and put on one of the new aprons she’d made.

  Colby had been sitting, waiting, but he almost knocked his chair over when he stood and watched Madie. The warmth in his eyes surprised Beth.

  “Hello, girl, how you been?” he said.

  “Fine,” she answered. “I read your letters.”

  “You didn’t write me back, so I came fearing there was something wrong.”

  “No.” She stared at the floor. “I’m working as fast as I can to learn to write so I can answer you.”

  Beth didn’t miss the way Colby’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad to hear that. You eating regular here, Madeline? With the baby coming I don’t want to think about you missing many meals.”

  She nodded. “It’s nice here, Colby, real nice. I help out where I can, and I’m learning all kinds of things a lady should know.”

  “That’s good.” He shifted, as if not knowing what else to say.

  “A priest who is visiting is teaching me to read, and the cook is showing me all kinds of recipes that I’ve never baked.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Father Benjamin mostly works with the boys on lessons, but I sit in after the chores are done and you wouldn’t believe all I’ve learned about history.”

  “That’s good.”

  Beth motioned them both to sit down. Surely he hadn’t ridden a hundred miles just to ask a few questions and answer Madie with the same two words.

  “I can quilt now, and Mrs. McLaughlin’s mom is teaching me to use a loom,” Madie said, as if someone had poked her reminding her that it was her turn to talk.

  “That’s good,” Colby said again, obviously stuck in the conversation.

  Beth drew a long breath when the boys and Andrew stormed the big kitchen. Suddenly, everyone was hugging and yelling. While she put the rest of the food out, she caught Andrew’s stare. This wasn’t the dinner either of them had planned, but it was all right.

  Everyone talked and laughed and ate. Colby couldn’t seem to stop smiling. He’d obviously missed them all. Madie was quiet mostly, almost shy.

  Beth insisted Colby stay with them when he asked if he could camp out on the ranch.

  While Madie showed him to the only empty room in the old wing, the boys rushed out, saying they’d take care of his horse. All planned to meet back in the parlor to listen to one of Andrew’s stories, just as they’d done in Fort Worth.

  Beth suddenly found herself alone with Andrew in the empty kitchen.

  “Where’s the cook?” he asked as he stood.

  “She usually goes to bed as soon as supper is served. It’s always kind of been a rule that the family cleans up the kitchen at night.”

  “I’ll help,” he offered, and picked up a few bowls. “It’s good to have the boy home.”

  He sounded as if they were really married and Colby belonged to them. “He’s more a man than he was when he left.” She followed him to the counter, where two tubs waited, one with soapy water, one with clean.

  Andrew nodded. “He’s been through a lot lately.”

  They talked quietly, aware that there were others in the house. Father Benjamin was just beyond the back door, waiting for the boys to return from the barn. She told him what Colby had said about Peterson, but Andrew didn’t seem too worried. The second warning never seemed to sound as threatening as the first.

  “We had a good day working together.” Andrew slid his hand lightly around her shoulders. “After no sleep last night, I’m about ready to turn in, dear. How about you?”

  “After you read, I’ll drive you back.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’ll see,” she answered as the boys came in and pulled him toward the parlor.

  They all gather
ed around and listened to Andrew’s new story. The boys laughed and hung on every word, and Father Benjamin clapped when he finished, proclaiming Andrew a fine writer.

  Andrew closed his journal and said simply, “Take me home, wife.”

  Before Beth could answer, the priest stood. “I’ll drive you both home, my children. It’s chilly, but the boys can come along and watch the night sky. Tomorrow we begin a study of the planets.”

  She didn’t miss the tightening of Andrew’s arm around her shoulder. He’d never seemed very friendly around the dear little priest. “That’s not necessary, Father. I don’t mind taking him.” She didn’t add that she planned to return to the main house after a good-night kiss or two.

  For once Andrew smiled at the man. “That would be grand if you’d take us, Father. Thank you for offering. I wouldn’t want to leave the team outside all night.”

  Beth could hardly explain to a priest why she had not planned to sleep with her husband, and she couldn’t tell Andrew that the afternoon of flirting had been nice, but she felt they’d gone quite far enough with their playing for one day.

  When the father turned to grab his long coat, she jabbed Andrew in the ribs, then straightened and said sweetly, “We’d best say good night to Colby and Madie, dear.”

  “Of course, dear,” he added, then gripped her hard as if he had no intention of letting her go.

  To their surprise, the two young people had vanished.

  CHAPTER 33

  COLBY FOLLOWED MADIE UP THE FRONT STAIRS TO A hallway with three doors. All through dinner when he’d talked to everyone else at the table, he’d been thinking of what to say to her, and now that they were alone for a minute, he couldn’t think of a word.