Promises Decide

by Sarah McCarty

  “Nope.” Not if a body wasn’t from around these parts. Jackson changed the subject back to the relevant. “So, Tony, did Mimi get hurt when she fell into the well?”

  He shrugged.

  The urchin piped up. “She didn’t cry.”

  Hell, that could mean anything from she was dead to just terrified. “I guess she’s a brave girl, then.”

  The redhead with the pugnacious attitude chimed in, “No one’s braver than Mimi. She dares anything.”

  Which was probably why she’d landed in the well. Where the hell were the parents? Feigning nonchalance he didn’t feel, Jackson wiped his hands together. “Well, good, then we shouldn’t have any trouble getting her out.”

  Melinda Sue looked him over from head to toe. “You’re going to get her out?”

  Damned if he didn’t detect skepticism in her look. “Yup.”

  “You’re not very big.”

  It wasn’t the first time he’d been told his five foot ten inches of height didn’t measure up.

  “Big enough.”

  She cocked her head to the side. “You’ve got pretty hair.”

  Was that supposed to make him feel better or worse?

  “Thank you. What did you put down the well when I rode up?”

  “A lantern so she could see.”

  “See what?”

  “Where the snakes were.”

  Double shit.

  “There are snakes down there?”

  The little girl nodded and leaned against her older brother. For the life of him, Jackson couldn’t see a family resemblance.

  “Really ugly ones.”

  “Snakes aren’t ugly,” the middle boy retorted. “You’re just scared of them.”

  “Are not.”

  “Are too.”

  “Shut up, Kevin,” Tony said without inflection.

  Jackson cut Kevin a glance as he headed to where Lady stood waiting patiently for instructions. “Anybody would be smart to be cautious about snakes around here, boy.”

  “Mimi hates snakes,” Tony said in a quiet statement devoid of emotion. “We were giving her the lantern so they couldn’t sneak up on her.”

  Jackson remembered the sound of broken glass just before he’d scooped up the kids. He glanced again at the well. No smoke billowed out. “You didn’t light it?”

  Melinda Sue shook her head. “I’m not allowed to touch sulfurs.”

  And a good thing that was, too. Dropping a lit lamp down the hole would have been like tossing raw fire. Everything down there would have burned when the kerosene spread. “Good to know you can follow some rules.”

  Tony cut him a glare. He ignored it. Pointing to the off-kilter porch steps, he told the pixie, “Go sit over there.”

  Her lip stuck out a bit, but she did move away from the well. One tiny step. He looked to the oldest boy as he took the rope off Little Lady’s saddle. “I’d appreciate it if you took Lady over to the stream and got her a drink.”

  The boy didn’t move, just stared at the mare. “We don’t have a horse.”

  How the hell did anyone not have a horse out here?

  “Well, I’m sure Lady will enjoy being the center of attention.” Jackson held out the reins. He was trying to keep from looking in that well as long as possible. He hated snakes, too. The boy came forward. For all the excitement in his face, he was cautious taking the reins. Inexperience with horses or a bad experience? Jackson guessed it didn’t matter. The boy would have to conquer that fear. A man was dead out here without his horse.

  “Don’t worry. She doesn’t bite. As a matter of fact, if you scratch the spot above her nose, she’ll be your friend for life.”

  “Will she be my friend, too?” Melinda Sue asked.

  “Don’t answer that unless you want her bothering your horse all the time,” Tony warned.

  Jackson looked at the little girl. She personified knee high to a grasshopper. And he most certainly didn’t want her anywhere near the horse without him there. Little Lady was gentle, but any horse could spook. “Well, now, if you let me introduce you, I imagine she will like you just fine, but until you grow a bit, you’ll only be able to pet her when I’m around.”

  She immediately nodded her head. “All right.”

  He didn’t buy that ready agreement for a second. First chance she got, Melinda Sue would be over at Lady’s side. Jackson reached in his pocket and pulled out a thick stick of peppermint. It was his last one, but sometimes a man had to make sacrifices, and this was one of them. “Why don’t you take this and go sit on the porch.”

  Her eyes grew big as dollars. “That’s candy from in the jars!”

  Had she never had penny candy before? “Yup.”

  She all but snatched it from his hands. Before she could pop it in her mouth, Tony said, “You mind your manners, Melinda Sue, and say thank you.”

  His eyes lingered on the candy in her hand, but he didn’t ask for himself. Jackson felt the heel. The kids’ clothes were threadbare, and whoever was taking care of them had fallen—hook, line, and sinker—for Bentley’s pitch, which didn’t speak well for their business sense. The family had likely never had a penny to spare. Hell, had any of them ever had penny candy?

  Melinda Sue frowned at her brother, took the candy between her fists, and grunted. Only half paying attention, Jackson tied a hitch in the end of the rope. With a huff, Melinda Sue poked him in the arm and shoved the candy at him.

  “You don’t want it?”

  She frowned at him. “Want you to break it.”

  He didn’t have time for this.

  “Just suck on one end.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Can’t.”

  He had even less time to argue. He took the candy. “How many pieces?”

  The older brother looked uncomfortable, the middle one hopeful, and the little girl determined.

  “Two will do,” the oldest said.

  The middle kid’s lip came out. “Three’s fair.”

  Jackson approved of the elder child’s sense of sacrifice and of the middle’s sense of fair play. Whoever had raised these children was doing a heck of a job. “Three it is.”

  He broke the stick into three pieces, which was a good thing, because the study the little girl gave him was nothing compared to the study she gave those pieces. He had a feeling he’d have been in for a lecture if they hadn’t come out roughly equal. “What about Mimi?”

  The little girl shook her head. “She doesn’t like candy.”

  There wasn’t a body alive that didn’t like candy.

  Was she the oldest, then?

  “Fine, then. Go sit on the steps there and eat that while I get Mimi out of the well.”

  As if he’d tugged her chain, the little girl’s lip quivered. The stick of peppermint caught in the corner, smearing her cheek with red. “It’s a long way down.”

  “But I’m a grown man with a long reach.”

  It was a measure of her age that she fell for that nonsense. She plopped down on the steps and smiled at him.

  The oldest boy called from the stream, “You’re not that big.”

  “You got a last name, kid?” Jackson asked, heading over to a suitably thick maple.

  Instead of a surname he got a shake of the boy’s head. Not an unusual response out here. Lots of people moved west to hide their past and a man respected that. But most of them had a few more years on them than this boy.

  “Well, Tony, you’re right.” He looped one end of the rope around the trunk and tied it. “Size isn’t everything, but you back it with a bit of smarts and a pile of muscle and I’ve found you can accomplish just about anything.”

  “Even getting Mimi out of the well?”

  He checked the knot. A man could accomplish anything with a bit of applied intelligence and braw
n. The trick was not to get fancy. “Yes,” he said, heading for the too-quiet well, playing the rope out behind him, a sick feeling in his gut. “Even getting Mimi out of the well.”

  He just hoped to hell the child was still alive.

  Leaning over the rough stone wall surrounding the hole, he looked down. The well was shallow enough that a little light reached the bottom. He could barely make out a shadowy form huddled to one side.

  “Mimi?”

  Silence greeted his call.

  “You don’t need to be afraid, Mimi.”

  Still no answer.

  “Mimi doesn’t like strangers,” Kevin offered.

  Well, she was damn well going to have to like him. At least for the length of time it took for him to get her out. He uncoiled the last of the rope and called down, “I know I’m a stranger, but I’m here with the rope and the muscle to haul you out.”

  “I’d appreciate it more if you had a gun and a knife.”

  The voice was shaky but unmistakably feminine. Mature. That was no child in the well. An inner sigh of relief went through him.

  “They got you surrounded, huh?”

  “Yes.” The soft syllable shook with fear.

  “Well, rest easy, I’m packing both.”

  “Thank God.” Another harshly indrawn breath quickly followed the exclamations. Jackson didn’t speculate on what inspired that gasp. His imagination already had enough of a leap. In his experience, just focusing on the immediate facts kept a man on course better than looking ahead. “You hurt?”

  “Not really, although my foot seems to be quite attractive to the residents here.”

  Shit. “Can you elaborate on that ‘not really’?”

  “My arm. I don’t know how badly.”

  With his luck, it was probably broken.

  He could see the remnants of the wooden ladder leaning against the side of the well. The sides were riddled with rot. Only a greenhorn would have thought that was sturdy. More to keep her distracted than from a need to know, he asked, “The ladder break when you stepped on it?”

  “Yes.” Then, “Hurry.”

  It might be his imagination adding color to the moment, but that much fear added up to more than one snake down there. As if to prove his point, the rattles started, first one and then another, until they rose from the depths in nerve-jarring chorus. He slipped the noose he’d tied at the end of the rope over his head and shoulders. For once he was glad Bentley’s well-digging skills were so half-assed. He had enough rope to reach the bottom.

  “Don’t move. I’m coming down.”

  Jackson looked to the kids as he swung a leg over the wall, putting as much threat as he could in the glare, because damn it, there was something about the way they watched that made him nervous. “No matter what, don’t you try to come down here. Stay over there.”

  As one they nodded, but the jangle in his gut didn’t settle. “I mean it.”

  “We hear you.”

  Tony’s flat agreement didn’t settle his nerves at all. “Good.”

  As he went over the side, his last impression was of all three children moving forward. So much for his threatening manner.

  “I told you to stay put,” he hollered up.

  Only one of the children bothered to reply. In a voice as sweet as the candy he’d handed her, Melinda Sue called back. “You have very pretty hair.”

  Damn it, that settled it. As soon as he got home, he was visiting the barber. He lowered himself hand over hand into the darkness, skin crawling as the light faded and the dank smell of mold grew right along with the sibilant warning rattles. Maybe then he could strike terror into the hearts of three helpless kids.

  Two

  About six feet down, he wrapped the rope around his wrist and carefully braced his feet against the wooden wall. Dirt slid down into the depths behind the flimsy barrier. The rattles took up the staccato tempo that every living creature instinctively recognized as a warning.

  A hushed “Be careful” snapped out of the darkness.

  He injected a bit of calm amusement into his voice. “I’m always careful, honey.”

  The next sound could have been a snort. He wasn’t sure, but the possibility amused him.

  “If that were the case, you wouldn’t be dangling over a snake pit.”

  “That might have more to do with my mental state than my cautious nature.”

  The next sound was definitely a snort, followed just as quickly by a gasp. “Snakes getting feisty?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  Definitely time to get the woman out of there. He continued lowering himself. “Well, hold tight, help is on the way.”

  “Hurry.”

  He was trying. A glance down revealed nothing. His shadow blocked whatever light there was. Which meant Mimi had better have Tony’s stable temperament, because he was going to need her cooperation.

  “Let me know when my feet are just above your head.”

  Her “How?” was shaky. He pretended he didn’t notice, just kept his voice quiet and steady as the dank smell of the well surrounded him.

  “Did the kids throw you any matches?”

  “I don’t know where they landed.”

  That might have been a blessing, considering the broken lamp. “Not a problem.”

  He went deeper, hoping against hope the lamp hadn’t been kerosene fueled. “Very carefully put your good arm above your head.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m getting to that.” He stopped when he’d judged he should be just above her. The odor of old lard penetrated the musty stench of the well. He never thought he’d be grateful for Bentley’s cheap ways, but lard wasn’t as flammable as kerosene. That was a blessing. They could strike a match. He stuck his foot out in the direction of her voice.

  “Is your hand up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, I want you to feel around, very carefully, above your head for my boot.”

  He heard the rustle of cloth as she shifted position. It was accompanied by a raucous renewal of rattles.

  It took everything he had to keep his voice calm when he wanted to curse and retreat. Fucking snakes. “Don’t move anything but your arm.”

  “I can’t feel anything.”

  “Hang on.”

  He lowered himself a little more. “Try again.”

  This time, he felt a tug on his foot. The pull was to the right.

  “Good. Just hold on, now, and don’t let go until I tell you to.”

  “Not a problem.”

  He smiled at the feminine imitation of his own dry response. “Where am I in relation to you?”

  “Out and to the left a bit.”

  Roughly where he’d estimated. “Well, that’s just about perfect.”

  “For what?”

  “For a game of catch.”

  “Insanity isn’t what I prayed for when I prayed for rescue,” Mimi muttered so low he bet he wasn’t supposed to hear.

  “Now, that’s a shame, because I do some of my best work in my less stable moments.”

  “As if you’d be in any condition to judge.”

  She had a quick mind. He liked that. “You can judge for yourself in a minute.”

  Her grip on his shoe tightened. “You’re joining me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Oh.”

  The softly whispered exclamation pricked his conscience. He reached into his pocket. “I’m going to toss you some sulfurs.”

  “And upset the snakes?” she gasped.

  “Well, the way we’re going to do this, we’re not going to disturb a rattle on their scaly posteriors.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m going to toss these sulfurs in your lap.”

  “But the snakes . . .”

 
“Are going to sleep right through the whole thing.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  Obviously. “That’s because you think you have to do something.”

  “And don’t I?”

  “Nope, you just need to sit there pretty as a picture while I toss the sulfurs in your lap.”

  “You can see?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know I’m pretty?”

  “The same way I’m going to know where to toss these sulfurs. From your voice.”

  “My voice could be the only pretty thing about me.”

  “Well, now, finding out that truth is going to be my inspiration.” He shook the tin. “You ready?”

  Her hand on his boot jerked with her fear. He had to admire her ability to fake calm. There wasn’t even a quaver in her voice when she ordered, “Don’t miss.”

  “I never miss.”

  “Well, don’t make this the first time.”

  His chuckle caught him by surprise, as did the spurt of interest her sass inspired. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Now, just hold still and let me drop these. If I miss, don’t grab for them.”

  “You said you never miss!”

  He lobbed the sulfurs down. “I don’t.”

  He had to give her credit. It had to be damn hard to sit in the dark with snakes slithering around and not grab wildly for those sulfurs.

  “Do you have them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Told you I never miss.”

  “It’s impolite to brag.”

  “So I’ve heard, but if I don’t blow my own horn, who will?”

  “If you get me out of here, I will. For the next fifty years, at least.”

  “Well, then, for sure I’m getting you out.” The sulfurs rattled in their tin as she picked them up. Bracing his feet against the wall so he’d have a good view of the situation when the match flared, he ordered, “Now, I want you to carefully strike one and hold it up high. Away from my foot,” he added quickly. The last thing he needed was for his pants to catch fire.

  There was a scratch and a hiss, and the hole was flooded with a weak light. What it revealed wasn’t pretty. Five snakes coiled nervously on the ground around a young woman. Obviously rattlers, and all big enough that one bite could probably kill off a man his size. For sure they could take out the fine-boned woman who stared up at him with big eyes and a stubborn set to her delicate jaw. He wondered what color her eyes were. The flickers of light from the match danced across her features, giving an illusion of impermanence. A chill went down his spine. Forget that. He wasn’t letting her die.