Promises Decide

by Sarah McCarty

  But she didn’t. She stayed put, breath catching as his fingertips grazed her temple. Leaning in as a shivery tingle went down her spine, bounced back up, before spreading to her breasts. She kept her gaze straight ahead through sheer force of will. “I’m not hiding anything.”

  His thumb brushed her cheek. “I think you’re lying.”

  Tingles kept prickling along her skin. Her breath kept catching on little notes and, in her mind, a tiny little whisper was beginning. More.

  It whispered even louder when his hand dropped away.

  She knew what it was, this feeling that was sneaking up on her. Her mother had warned her about it. Since as early as she could remember, her mother had told her all the ways that men would steal her innocence and her morals and leave her in an abyss, among devil’s spawn. This was lust.

  Except this didn’t feel evil. This felt good and right. Clenching her fingers in her lap, she turned and faced him. It was hard to make out much of his face in the light, but his hair caught every pale shimmer, and again she had the impression of an archangel come to visit.

  “Do you have a woman, Mr. Montgomery?”

  “Now, honey girl, if you’re asking about my women, don’t you think we’ve gotten to the point where we can call each other by our first names?”

  How to explain that it didn’t seem proper to use his given name when considering a big step like propositioning him. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “No, I don’t have a woman. And I’m going to insist you call me Jackson. Mr. Montgomery is my father’s name.”

  “Your father’s still alive?”

  “Yup, and doing well.”

  “And your mother?”

  There was a moment, and then, “She passed some years back.”

  Sympathy gave her an excuse to touch him. His thigh muscles were hard under her palm. Solid. Like him. “I’m sorry. You must miss her.”

  “I do. Pa was miserable for years, but, lately, he’s been keeping busy courting a woman he met last fall.”

  She blinked. “At his age?”

  His teeth flashed white when he laughed. He put the whetstone back in its pouch. He was leaving. “Honey, what makes you think there’s an age when a man stops being a man?”

  “I just assumed . . .” There was no good way to end that statement. No good way to keep her hand on his thigh. No good way to keep him here, just for a little longer.

  “Well, you’d be wrong.” Gathering up his possessions, he stood. “Right now, he’s heading out to California to bring her back home.”

  “Do you have to go in right now?”

  “Are you looking for some company?”

  Was she? “Yes. Please. Just for a little while.”

  He sat back down. A little closer than before. “All right.”

  Closing her eyes, she let the still of the evening surround her with its calm. And, for the first time in a year, she relaxed. Touching his hand, she whispered, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  * * *

  • • •

  “Didn’t your mother ever warn you it was dangerous to sit out in the moonlight with a strange man?” Jackson asked a few minutes later.

  Oh, dear heavens, had she. Mimi sighed and tilted her head back so she could see his face. “Constantly.”

  His brows went up, and again she was reminded of the endless dichotomy he presented, sinner yet savior. That push-pull combination that sucked her in. She had a feeling that even if he hadn’t climbed down into that well after her, she would be in trouble with Jackson Montgomery.

  “And yet here you are in the moonlight with me.”

  “Technically, the moon isn’t fully up yet.”

  His chuckle wafted over her, digging in a little deeper, tugging a little harder against her reserve, freeing her just that little bit more from the rigid shell in which she’d encased her dreams.

  “Clearly you haven’t been courting much if you think that little detail makes a difference.”

  Imitating his confidence, she raised her eyebrows right back at him. It was a shame he probably couldn’t see it, seated as she was in the shadow of the pillar. “Oh?”

  His arm came around her shoulders. “No moonlight means no witnesses.”

  She figured that was where he was going. She leaned into his side. “Thank goodness you’re an honorable man.”

  “And you think honor is enough to keep you safe?”

  “I think, if it’s not, nothing ever will be.”

  “Damn, woman, using a man’s honor against him is just plain mean.”

  “I prefer to think of it as being honest.”

  “And that’s what you want? My hands honestly tied?”

  She smiled at the way he phrased that. And at the way his drawl reached out through the gloom and surrounded her in a sweet embrace that likely only existed in her mind but was sweet nonetheless. She cradled her elbow, remembering the dark, dank well. And that moment she’d seen his smile. And the sudden feeling that she could breathe. He’d made her feel safe. As the realization sank in, she realized she was still feeling safe. And maybe just a little brave. This time her sass didn’t come from . . . fear. It came from inside. From her. It was a unique feeling. Freeing.

  “I think, for now, it’s a good idea.”

  “That’s an interesting way to phrase things.”

  “It could be that you’re an interesting man.”

  “Or?”

  “I could just be so tired I don’t know what’s coming out of my mouth.”

  His chuckle was a soft prelude to his other arm coming around her. She should have expected it. After all, she’d led him on. When he tugged and scooted over, her hands balled into fists.

  His hand covered her fist. “It’s a hug, Mimi. Not a battle. No need for fists.”

  Then why did she feel more vulnerable than she ever had before in her life? “I didn’t ask for a hug.”

  “I know.”

  But she was getting one anyway and it felt very, very good. Too good. So good, she couldn’t stop her cheek from finding his shoulder. Nor the sigh from escaping her chest.

  “It’s been a long haul for you, hasn’t it?” he asked.

  She nodded and tried to glance back toward the house to make sure the children weren’t watching, only to run into the barrier of his shoulder and the comfort of his hand against her cheek. It felt good.

  “But the children and I are good now,” she whispered. “We’ve got our home.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It was sheer luck we stumbled onto this place.” She glanced around at the tromped-down yard. The shambles of what was the garden. “It does need some work.”

  “Yeah. About that.”

  She sighed again. “But it’s going to have to wait. Repairs cost money and anything over a penny is a fortune just now.”

  “You’re that strapped?”

  “I wasn’t lying when I said it just about took everything I had to buy this place.”

  Jackson sighed. It figured Half-Assed Bentley would unload the place on the one buyer Jackson couldn’t just leave to their fate.

  “But we’ve got our start now,” she went on, oblivious to the position into which she was forcing him. “I’ve got something set back to help tide us over with hunting and fishing until we can get a garden in next spring.”

  “How much is a bit?”

  She stiffened.

  “Don’t get your tail in a twist. I’m not after your money.”

  “I guess that was silly, considering that roll you shoved in my face earlier.”

  “I didn’t shove.”

  “Enthusiastically presented, then. How’s that?”

  He could settle for that. “Better.”

  What he couldn’t settle for was
her moving away from him. He liked the soft press of her breasts against his chest. The trusting way she leaned against him. Hell, he liked being responsible for the relaxation taking over her muscles. Which was a warning sign for sure. Just as sure as he knew that, he knew he was going to ignore it. Because in this moment there was peace. That kind of peace he’d seen on Cougar’s and Clint’s—his best friends’—faces after they’d found their women. The kind that’d settled the Rev down. He’d never quite understood it, never wanted it, but he had a feeling if he could stand outside himself and look down at himself right now, he’d see the same contented expression on his face.

  He shook his head.

  “What?” Mimi asked, searching his expression.

  “Nothing.”

  “You’ve got that odd expression on your face.”

  “Odd beats ugly.”

  She huffed. “You know darned well you’re a very handsome man.”

  He leaned back, pulling his shadow away from her face. “How handsome?”

  “You know.”

  The soft glimmer of her smile was the perfect complement to the peaceful nook they’d carved out of the evening. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from her lips. “Well, when a man’s out courting in the moonlight, he’s hoping to rise a bit above ‘You know.’”

  He felt the little jump she hid behind her smile. Jackson was beginning to believe there was a lot Mimi hid. For a lot of reasons, all of which he wanted to discover.

  “No retort?”

  “Did you want one?”

  Oddly enough, he did. “A good battle of wits fires the blood.”

  Her lips, those delectable, kissable lips, pursed. “Do you need help with that?”

  Her eyes were luminous. The irises darker than normal, shadowed with mystery only the moon could cast, drawing him in.

  “Nope. Not at all.”

  Her gaze flicked down to his mouth. Her breath drew in on a soft gasp. Her lips parted. His cock hardened. Hell no, he didn’t need help getting it up. But he did need her and the energy arcing between them. He did need that connection that promised more. More heat. More passion. More pleasure. Sliding his finger across her neck, he cradled her nape in his palm. Her neck was delicate. Her lips plump and delectable. He had to taste her. To know whether she was as sweet as he imagined.

  With a press of his thumb, he nudged her chin. Her head fell back naturally. He supported her gladly. It just took a new angle, a new approach, and her breath was his. Her mouth was his. Her kiss was his.

  She kissed like a dream he’d once had back before he knew the world held evil. Like forbidden fruit. Like heaven imagined.

  “Open your mouth.”

  She made him wait while her lashes fluttered against his cheek in a tantalizing prelude, but then her fingers wrapped around his forearm, anchoring herself, anchoring them, and her lips parted and all that delicious heat was his. His to savor, his to plunder. His.

  The thought kept echoing in his mind as he cradled her closer. Sweet. So sweet.

  His.

  “Jackson . . .”

  The plea into his mouth in a siren’s song, luring him deeper into the swell of desire. His control unraveled in a growl of need. He tipped her back, pinning her with his thigh, pressing her against the stairs, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he strove to get closer, to get more.

  “Sweet. So sweet.”

  “Yes.”

  Her tongue teased his. Tempted him. Matched him, stroke for stroke. Caress for caress. Drawing him deeper. Passion imbued with innocence. She went to his head like whiskey. Smooth with a lingering burn. Addictive. Satisfying. He needed her closer.

  “Closer, honey. Come closer.”

  She felt so good against him, the softness of her breasts, the curve of her hip. He wanted all of her. He twisted to get closer.

  Pain shot down his back, bringing him to his senses. They were out in the open; any of the kids could come out any second. He pulled back. She blinked up at him uncomprehendingly. He’d never seen anything as sexy as Mimi dazed with passion. Smoothing his thumb over her lips, he eased her back to reality.

  “I’m sorry. This isn’t the time or place.”

  “For what?”

  He eased her up. “Us.”

  “There is no us.”

  “Yet.” When a man found a woman who called to the deepest part of him, he didn’t let her go. Not before he discovered all there could be, which, looking at her now, might take a while.

  She sat up and tugged at her dress, fussing with the buttons and patting down the skirt. “Oh, for Pete’s sake, you’re too old to believe a kiss leads to forever.”

  “No arguing with that.”

  She didn’t look him in the eyes as she pushed her hair out of her face. “It’s getting late.”

  Too late if she was planning to run.

  “And we have the trip to town tomorrow,” he agreed. Standing, he held out his hand and helped her to her feet. “I plan on heading out early.”

  She stiffened immediately. “Ugh.”

  What did the woman have against town?

  “Relax. It’s just a trip to town. What could go wrong?”

  Nine

  “I think living alone out there in the woods has warped your mind, honey.”

  Mimi looked at the blowsy redhead unimaginatively nicknamed Red sitting in the spartan kitchen of Cattle Crossing’s brand-spanking-new house of ill repute and sighed inwardly. “Believe it or not, I’ve had that same thought.”

  At least twice before the sun had even come up. And not just because of that foolishness with Jackson last night. She hated going to town for the simple reason that a woman alone with a questionable past and three children in tow stood out. She didn’t need to stand out. Especially here in Cattle Crossing, which was bigger and therefore had more traffic. Rivers Bend, which was small and off the beaten path, was risky enough, but it hadn’t had what Jackson needed so they’d traveled the extra hour and landed at Cattle Crossing. And as soon as Mimi spotted the bustling saloon, she realized it didn’t have what she needed, either. Women with a vested interest in attracting a variety of men for their livelihood.

  “For sure, you need to think it again if you suppose we’ve got money for fancy dresses,” the other woman at the table, who’d identified herself as Sunny, snapped as she dumped an amazing amount of sugar into her coffee.

  This wasn’t going well. Mimi gave her skirts a sharp tug down and winced when she heard the slight rip. Her clothes were getting threadbare and no amount of barter was going to fix that. But barter could help the children. They needed clothes. They needed food. And come the fall, they’d need schooling. She wanted them to blend with their peers, not sit as outcasts. That meant she needed money, and the only skill she had to sell was with a needle and thread. The only asset they had was what was in the box she’d stolen, but she couldn’t touch that. Even if she could find someone with the knowledge to understand its contents, she couldn’t sell it without alerting Mac to where she was.

  A shudder went through her at that possibility. Mac’s face as she’d last seen it filled her mind’s eye, cold and hard, his gone-to-soft jowls quivering as he’d held her down, choking her, the image of his fist drawn back and then the world collapsing into that awful black. No, she wasn’t touching the box anytime soon. That was their future, the only security they had, and, like all treasures, it had the power to save or destroy. Besides, she wasn’t familiar enough with how one sold off treasure to bring it into the open without exposing herself and the children to predators.

  “I don’t design dresses.”

  Her attempt at creating anticipation fell flat. With a huff, Red leaned back in her chair and pulled her wrapper closed. “Honey, it’s nine o’clock on Saturday morning. I’ve been up all night. The ranch hands and workers will be rolling in at sunset. I’ve go
t a lot to do before I can finally sleep. I don’t have time for nonsense.”

  “Especially as tonight is our busiest night,” the blonde barked, as if losing patience with a lackwit.

  As if Mimi didn’t know she was running out of time. She’d been lucky to catch these two still up. “I apologize. I’d have been here earlier, but I swear it’s easier to herd cats than it is to get three children out the door.”

  Red looked out the door to where Melinda Sue and Tony were just visible, sitting on the back stoop tossing a ball back and forth with Kevin. Curiosity lit her tired face as she looked back. “You’re a bit young to have such a large family.”

  “Any fool can tell they’re not kin,” Sunny huffed.

  “Make no mistake, we’re family.”

  Sunny waved vaguely with her hand. “For whatever that gets you.”

  No one would ever understand what those children gave her.

  “Best you hold up on that sweetening, Sunny,” Red cautioned as the blonde reached for another spoonful of sugar. “You know Nina’s been complaining about our mercantile account.”

  Sunny huffed. “I’ve got to have some pleasure.”

  “Your pleasure isn’t what fills her purse.”

  Mimi sighed. She needed to get control of this. If they got distracted by an argument she’d never get the sale. “I wasn’t talking about fancy dresses.”

  Red just looked at her. “Well, then, I’m not really sure what you are talking about.”

  Mimi studied the women more closely. Red’s hair was still vibrant, but gray was appearing at her temples. Sunny had crow’s-feet starting at the corners of her eyes. Neither one was young. And there had been talk at the mercantile that a couple of new girls had been brought in. Young girls. Fresh meat. Competition. Red and Sunny had to be nervous. Dropping her former idea of persuasion, Mimi went straight for the kill.

  “I heard a couple of younger women came into town last week.”

  “Younger just means hungry, not good.” Sunny bit out her words with a pointed look at what encompassed Mimi’s own lack of years.

  The one area Mimi did not have insecurity was her talent. She could make a feed sack look good. And based on what these women were wearing, just a modicum of her skills would increase their profits. “It would be a mistake to hold my age against me.”