Promises Decide

by Sarah McCarty

  “Says you.”

  “Yes, Miss Sunny. Says me.”

  Red took a sip of coffee and looked Mimi over from head to toe. Her frumpy robe gaped open, revealing some very impressive cleavage. An image popped into Mimi’s head of a flowing undergarment. Lace with patches of strategically placed color.

  “I’m a seamstress. A very talented seamstress with a very good eye for . . .” How best to say this? “Enhancing a woman’s intimate bounty.”

  Sunny snorted. “Bounty?”

  Red set her cup down. “No fancy dress is going to take a man’s eyes off youth and beauty.”

  “Mine will.” Her mother had supported them as a seamstress. As far back as Mimi could remember, she’d been stitching clothes. Starting with shortening hems and moving on to more complicated things. Tweaking dresses when the balance was off, gradually daring to create her own designs. With surprising success. Before she’d met and fallen in love with Mac, she’d planned on opening her own shop. After she’d met Mac, she’d discovered her innate talent for designing custom-made intimate apparel. Living in a whorehouse had turned out to be a truly life-expanding experience.

  “Did you bring any samples?”

  “No.” She crossed her fingers as she lied. “I expect them any day, but I promise you a visual fantasy that will bring men from miles around.”

  “And after they get here, Miss Seamstress?”

  “My name is Mimi.”

  “And after they get here, Mimi?”

  “Then you bring to the table the one thing that you’ve got over those young girls—all those years of experience in pleasuring a man.”

  “Shit,” Sunny muttered. “Doesn’t take much to pleasure men.”

  Mimi eyed Sunny. “I may not look it, but I wasn’t born yesterday.”

  “But I’m willing to bet that you weren’t a working girl, either,” Red countered.

  “No, but I am the woman who can transform you into the walking fantasy men will crave.” With a tilt of her head, she added, “Over and over.”

  Red eyed her up and down. “That’s a lot of big talk for a lady whose skirts are threadbare.”

  It was too much to hope they hadn’t noticed that.

  “And drab,” Sunny added.

  Or that. “I have three children.” She shrugged. “My money goes to them.”

  “Fair enough.” Red motioned her on. “Tell me what kind of fantasy you see me as.”

  “A very sultry woman of mystery and heat to be fought over.”

  Red tried to look disgruntled, but Mimi could see she was pleased. “Burt won’t be happy about his place getting busted up.”

  She dismissed that with a wave of her own. “He can charge your suitors for the expense.”

  “Suitors?”

  “There’s no sense in creating a half-assed fantasy.”

  She’d used the profanity deliberately. She wanted them comfortable with her.

  “Amen to that.”

  “What about me?” Sunny demanded. “What kind of fantasy am I?”

  Mimi studied Sunny, her inner eye seeing her strategically draped in hide-and-seek layers of icy blue. “An unattainable goddess to be wooed.”

  There was a long pause, then Red drawled, “Fire and ice?”

  Mimi felt a spurt of hope. “Yes.”

  Sunny poked Red’s arm. “Hear that, Red? I’ll be a goddess?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Red stood. She was an impressive woman, tall and big boned. Her peignoir was six inches too short, taking away from her assets rather than emphasizing them. “You know if you don’t come through I’m going to kick your skinny ass from here to the next territory, right?”

  Mimi dismissed the threat with a flick of her fingers. “Of course.”

  If she failed, she’d deserve to have her butt kicked.

  “Go get dressed, Sunny,” Red ordered.

  “What for?” The other woman pouted.

  Red rolled her eyes. “So we can get to the mercantile to pick out material before Clemit’s wife nags him into going to church.”

  “Land’s sake,” Sunny huffed. “Sometimes I wish Clint McKinnley hadn’t kicked the last shopkeeper’s teeth down his throat for slapping his boy. A lack of scruples can make a woman’s life easier.”

  Red’s chair scraped across the floor. “Well, this one has a few, so let’s get moving.”

  The women headed for the back stairs, Sunny’s robe dragging on the rough plank floor. Mimi’s confidence fluttered as they climbed the stairs. What if they got seduced by their beds and didn’t come back down?

  As soon as Mimi had the thought, the weight of all she was attempting settled upon her. Of what she’d become. She used to be so proper before she’d met Mac and given up everything for the security of the life he’d dangled in front of her like a lure. Everything Red had accused her of being. And now here she was standing in the middle of a whorehouse kitchen in her Sunday best, hoping to deprive a man of his religious salvation so she could go shopping this morning with two soiled doves. Rubbing her hands down the sides of her dress, she smiled.

  Things were looking up.

  * * *

  • • •

  “Mr. Montgomery! Mr. Montgomery! Come quick! Come quick!”

  “Looks like someone wants your attention,” Cougar said from where he leaned hipshot against the railing outside the small, traditional whitewashed church.

  “And in a damn hurry, too,” Reverend Brad said in his distinctly nonreverend way.

  Jackson turned around, watching the boy run toward him. What the hell was wrong now? “That would be Tony.”

  “And the two coming up fast behind him?”

  Jackson sighed. “Kevin and Melinda Sue.”

  “Any particular reason they would be calling your name like you’re the second coming?” Cougar pushed away from the railing. He was an impressive figure. Taller than average, with broad shoulders, dark skin announcing his Indian ancestry, and a wild air that was only enhanced by the buckskins and moccasins he wore. As he straightened to his full height, his long black hair fell over his shoulders, casting his dark eyes in darker shadows.

  “Probably the same reason you’re letting your hair go long again.” The Rev pushed his black hat back and squinted against the morning sun. He was not as tall as Cougar, but he wore the same wildness, which the white clerical collar around his neck couldn’t disguise. “It’s got to be a woman.”

  Cougar smiled. “Mara likes my hair.”

  Jackson snorted and narrowed his eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck tickled as he saw Tony’s expression. “She’s the one who asked you to cut it.”

  “And the one who asked me to grow it again.” He jerked his chin, indicating the children. “So, what’s her name?”

  Jackson stepped down into the street. “Mimi Banfield.”

  Behind him he heard Brad mutter, “I knew it had to be a woman.” Just as clearly he could imagine Cougar’s sardonic grin as he said, “It was bound to happen sometime.”

  Tony was running so fast puffs of dust kicked up from his feet.

  “Nothing’s happening,” Jackson countered. Even to his ears his words lacked conviction.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Mr. Montgomery!” Tony gasped, coming up alongside him and grabbing his shirtsleeve.

  Jackson put his hand on Tony’s. “Catch your breath, son, and tell me what’s wrong.”

  “You’ve got to come.”

  Before he could ask why, Cougar and the Rev circled round. Tony stiffened, took a step back from the Rev, realized that only brought him closer to Cougar, and froze. His complexion blanched. Jackson couldn’t blame him. Cougar was a big man with a sharply angular face that compelled with the ferocity of his namesake. The golden brown of his eyes only added to the appearance o
f a predator waiting to strike. The only other man Jackson knew who could match him for that predator-on-the-prowl impression was Cougar’s cousin Clint.

  “Where to?” Cougar asked in his succinct manner.

  “Shit, you’re scaring him, Cougar.”

  “Maybe he should be scared.”

  Tony stepped to the side. Cougar caught his arm. Tony gasped. That was all it took for Kevin. He launched himself at Cougar.

  “Leave my brother alone!”

  Melinda Sue went for Cougar’s hand, grabbing hold and biting down with the ferocity of a badger, the fiercest of utterances coming from her throat.

  “The hell now.”

  Cougar grabbed Melinda Sue by the back of her dress, lifting her off the ground.

  “Bastard!” Tony snarled.

  Jackson grabbed Tony before he could join the attack. Cougar switched his hold on the growling Melinda Sue, shifting her to his hip and catching her hand when she went for his eyes. He blocked Kevin’s kick with his thigh. “Now, son, Mara would have a fit if you took to unmanning me.”

  Tony spit out a word so foul, even the Rev blinked. His ragged nails dug at Jackson’s grip. His body shook with rage, as he clawed his way toward Melinda Sue. “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

  Cougar and the Rev stilled. Over Tony’s head, their gazes met Jackson’s.

  Jackson slowly let Tony go. “It’s too early in the day for murder, son.”

  The boy stood there, fists balled and feet braced. “Then make him let her go.”

  “Make him, Jackson,” Kevin echoed.

  “Yeah, makes him!” Melinda Sue joined in, swinging a tiny fist.

  “There isn’t a soul around that can make me do anything,” Cougar drawled.

  “Let her go, Cougar.”

  “It would break Jenna’s heart to see this,” the Rev said with a shake of his head.

  “Mara’s, too.”

  “I don’t hurt little girls, boy.” Cougar set Melinda Sue on her feet. She ran to Jackson’s side and clung to his leg, her thumb stuck in her mouth, looking again so impossibly cherubic Jackson’s heart caught.

  “Tony, Kevin, and Melinda Sue, these are my friends.” With a wave of his hand he indicated the men. “This here’s Cougar McKinnley, and that’s the Reverend Brad.”

  Tony took in Brad’s blond hair, black hat, good looks, and gun strapped to his hips. “You don’t look like a preacher.”

  The Rev pushed his hat back and smiled. “So I’ve been told.”

  “Gentlemen,” Jackson continued, “this is Mimi’s family.”

  “Mimi!” Tony gasped, spinning around and grabbing Jackson’s arm as he remembered. “You’ve got to come. They’re going to kill her!”

  * * *

  • • •

  The scene when they got to the mercantile was utter chaos. Two women wrestled in the corner of an aisle, while another yelled encouragement to someone he couldn’t see. Clemit was in another corner with his hands held up, looking as if he couldn’t decide if he wanted to wade in or run.

  “Come on, get in there!” a redheaded woman shouted.

  Cougar looked over at Jackson. “Is yours winning or losing?”

  The women bumped into a display table. The barrel teetered and tipped. Flour exploded everywhere.

  “Oh, hell no!” Clemit hollered.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “That doesn’t bode well.”

  “Well, whoever she is, this is going to cost you a pretty penny,” Brad observed.

  “You’re right about that,” Clemit growled, overhearing.

  “Shut up, Clemit.”

  The place was a mess. So were the women. As far as Jackson could tell, Mimi was holding her own.

  “You going to break it up?” the Rev asked.

  “Not yet.” It was just too fascinating, watching his prim-and-proper siren lose her decorum so much she was brawling.

  “She’s got a hell of a right,” Cougar noticed.

  “Definitely wife material,” the Rev observed.

  “Hold on.” Jackson held up his hand. “No one said anything about a wife.”

  Even Clemit gave him a pitying look. “No man pays for damages for someone he’s not involved with.”

  “I’m setting a new tradition.”

  The Rev caught a stray projectile. It was a jar of jelly. “Just keep in mind there’s been a string of engagements lately. Evie says the church is almost booked up for the summer.”

  “There’s always fall,” Cougar offered too helpfully.

  “And you could always shut up.”

  Clemit groaned as the pickle barrel tipped. The scent of vinegar filled the interior. “This is really going to cost you.”

  Jackson covered Melinda Sue’s ears. “Damn.”

  Insults flew as fast as objects. “Ignorant” and “fat” were the ones he caught best. And then, “Oh, my God! You’re too stupid to breathe!”

  “That one’s mine.”

  “She’s not much bigger than Mara,” Cougar observed, arms folded across his chest.

  No, she wasn’t. Mimi landed another solid punch.

  “Someone ought to tell her that so she stays out of trouble.”

  Oh, hell no. “I like her just as she is.”

  And surprisingly he did.

  “Yup.” The Rev set the jar down on the counter. “He’s a goner.”

  Cougar nodded. Jackson elbowed him in the ribs.

  The blonde grabbed a knife from the sheath on her calf.

  The Rev grabbed Melinda Sue from Jackson. “Time to break this up.”

  Jackson leapt over the counter. Cougar was right behind him. Wrapping his arm around Mimi’s waist, he hauled her back. Cougar snagged the other woman by the back of her dress and held her off the ground. Both were still swinging.

  “Damn,” the redhead said. “Just when this was getting interesting. Might just have been the first time Sunny lost a fight.”

  Removing the knife from Sunny’s hand, Cougar ordered her to settle down.

  The knife clattered to the floor.

  Jackson heard the Rev order the kids outside. Mimi twisted in his grip. “You need to settle down, too.”

  She tried to head butt him. “The heck I will.”

  “The heck you won’t.”

  Across the aisle, Sunny twisted around and went for Cougar’s face with her sharp, red nails. A simple “I wouldn’t” stopped her cold. Jackson wasn’t surprised. When Cougar pulled out that low growl, people listened.

  Pushing her hair back from her face, Sunny got a gander at who held her and suddenly melted in his arms. “Well, hello.”

  Mimi snorted in disgust. “Oh, for the love of Pete.”

  Jackson couldn’t help but laugh.

  The redhead summed it all up. “Lord have mercy, Sunny. You don’t have a lick of sense.”

  Cougar shook his head. “Listen to your friend.”

  “You can’t blame a girl, Red.” Sunny ran a finger down his arm. “A fine man like this doesn’t come into this town too often.”

  “I come in often enough.”

  “He just doesn’t stop over at the saloon,” Jackson elaborated.

  Red snorted. “Don’t you ever pay attention to anything, Sunny? That there’s one of the McKinnley men.”

  Sunny looked up at Cougar and smiled enticingly. “McKinnley, huh?”

  “Don’t,” Cougar warned.

  Sunny slid her hand seductively up his forearm, his biceps, his shoulder. Cougar dropped her on her ass.

  Red shook her head. “He told you not to do it.”

  Sunny rubbed her butt. “A woman’s got to try.”

  “How many times have I told you to know who you’re dealing with before you make a move?”

 
“I suppose you know who he is?”

  “Let me introduce you. That angelic-looking fella holding Mimi is Jackson Montgomery.” She waved toward Brad. “You know the Rev.”

  The Rev helped her up. “Morning, Sunny.”

  “Morning.”

  “In case you still don’t understand,” Red continued, “that one there is Cougar McKinnley.”

  Sunny blanched.

  “They all ride together, and I’m guessing little Miss Mimi is under their protection.”

  Sunny swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean anything. She called me fat—”

  “I did not!”

  “For the record,” Jackson interjected calmly, “it wouldn’t matter to me what she called you. If you’d hurt her, I’d take it personally.”

  Mimi turned to glare at him. “I don’t need your protection.”

  There was a red spot on her cheek. It would likely bruise. “Tough.”

  “I was holding my own.”

  “Didn’t look that way to me,” Red offered, grabbing a peppermint stick out of a toppled jar.

  “And to think I wanted to help you,” Mimi grumped.

  “You didn’t want to help anything. You were just making a business deal.”

  “A business deal?” Jackson loosened his hold and looked around at the disaster of the mercantile. “I hope it was going to be a lucrative one.”

  “I’m not paying for it.” Mimi pointed at Sunny. “She pulled a knife on me.”

  The Rev nodded to Sunny. “Any reason for that?”

  “She called me fat.”

  Mimi slammed her hands on her hips. “For the last time, doubting your stated measurements is not a declaration of fat.”

  “Hold on,” Cougar interrupted. “Why were you wanting her measurements?”

  He took the words right out of Jackson’s mouth.

  “We have a business deal.”

  “Had a business deal.”

  “She’s still got it with me,” Red said around her peppermint stick. “If the woman can sew anything like she fights, she ought to make me a pretty penny.”

  “You’re going into business with—” Jackson stopped and changed his wording. “These ladies?”