The Drifter's Promise

by Rita Hestand

  Kate had to admit, she was blatantly attracted to the man. It wasn't just his looks, but his calm attitude and his glances.

  "I sense that you were lookin' for more of a full-time hand."

  "Yes, I was." She admitted. "But I'll take what I can get." She shrugged. "As you can see, it's a sizable piece of land, and I can't manage it alone."

  "You don't have no regular help?"

  "No, my husband was not a social man, and most folks around here didn't know him very well. He was hot tempered and bragged a lot, so folks didn't take to him. He worked this place alone, except for me."

  "I see, that must have been rough."

  "It was. And still is." She commented.

  "No children?" he asked.

  "No."

  "How long were you married?"

  "A little over a year." She said quietly.

  She set the fried pork chops on the table then mashed the potatoes and brought them and the gravy. She pulled the biscuits out of the oven and brought them with the butter along with a platter full of corn.

  "Looks mighty good, ma'am. One thing a drifter can appreciate is a good meal." He said, then bowed his head and before she knew what he was doing, he said grace.

  She was startled but kind of pleased that he was a God-fearing man. It would be easier to trust him, knowing he was a man of God.

  She bowed her head as he reached for her hand and held it as he said grace. She willed her hand not to sweat.

  "That was nice," she smiled at him. "The last time I heard anyone pray over a meal was when I was fifteen, just a bit before my father died."

  "So, how long ago did your husband die?" He asked.

  "Two days ago." She muttered quietly.

  "Two days—"

  "Yes, a Cougar got him out in the pasture. Took me most the night to find him and by then, he'd bled to death. I couldn't lift him on the mule, so I tied a rope on him and drug him home. He was already dead. But I never realized how doing something like that could be so hard."

  "That's terrible." He frowned. "Don't your neighbors ever help out?"

  "Yes it was terrible." She said lowly. "And no, my husband and I did all the work. He was a very hard worker. We don't really have many friends here. Like I said, he wasn't a very friendly sort. After I got him to the house, I rode my mule to my neighbors, and they got the undertaker and Reverend for me."

  After a long silence he asked. "How long you been out here?"

  "A little over a year." She answered.

  "Have you got some family you can go back to?" He asked as he buttered a biscuit and glanced at her.

  "My mother died of childbirth when I was ten, and my dad the smallpox some time back." She told him.

  "No brothers or sisters?"

  "No, just me. My mother died at childbirth, and the baby died too."

  "How about his folks, would they take you in, if need be?" he asked curiously.

  "No Mr. Dolan," She looked up at him, "no one will take me in. I'm on my own, been on my own since I was fifteen. I don't mind it so much, but the work is sometimes overwhelming. Like now."

  "Well ma'am, what are you gonna do?" he asked perplexed by her lack of fear for her future. "I mean if you don't mind me asking."

  "I'm gonna get my crops in."

  "And the next year, what will you do?" he asked frustrated with that answer. "Who will plow the fields for you, ma'am?"

  "I guess I'll have to learn." She remarked. "Or find somebody if you leave."

  He seemed to study on that.

  "You can't plow that much field, ma'am. It's way too much for a woman to handle."

  She put her fork down and stared at him strangely, "Mr. Dolan, I'm doing good trying to figure out what to do now, much less next year. Maybe I'll sell the place. I'm no farmer. I haven't figured everything out yet. But before I do anything I have to figure out where I'm going or whether I'll stay here."

  He saw the tears in her lovely eyes, tears she wouldn't let fall, and he stared into her face.

  Secretly, she wished he weren't so handsome.

  "I’m sorry. It's none of my business ma'am, but it seems you need to be thinking along those lines."

  "Mr. Dolan, I just lost my husband. And I'm doing what I can to get these crops picked. But I have not had time to think about what I'll do next." Her voice raised almost to the point of hysteria. "Just managing day to day chores is hard enough for me."

  "My apologies ma'am." He said, his voice mellowing as he spoke.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so sharp with you, but I'm well aware of my circumstances. I just haven't had time to figure out what I should do. But I've been in a state of shock since I drug my husband to the porch with the Mule and then rode to my neighbors to get help. I don't have any answers yet." She told him and hung her head. "I'm just bone tired and haven't been able to think straight yet."

  The man frowned but didn't say another word. Then he wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin she gave him and added, "Well, ma'am, I'll do all I can to help."

  "Thank you."

  Chapter Four

  Wesley took the first big wagonload over to Mr. Dickens the next day. He couldn't help but think about the little lady. They'd worked fairly well together even though she was slower, she didn't give up the effort. He had to admire the fact that she didn’t complain, and she was so willing to help him.

  Dickens was out by the hog pens when he drove up. He came to greet him and invited him for some coffee.

  Wesley came inside at the invite.

  "Sure could use some." He smiled at the old man.

  "So, how is our Miss Kate doing?" He asked him, as he poured them both a cup of coffee and put it on the table as Wesley joined him.

  "She sure did need the help. You weren't kidding about that." He stared at how much sugar Dickens put into his coffee, as he put four heaping teaspoons in it and stirred, Wesley shook his head. "What's wrong with this community."

  "What do you mean?" Dickens asked looking at him curiously.

  "She just lost her husband, got a load of work to do and it's only her. Why isn't anyone out there helping her?"

  Dickens smiled at Wesley, "I was wondering if you was gonna ask that. Well, to tell the truth, most folks around here don't know her too well. Her husband was a bad-tempered blow-hard of a man, no one liked him. He worked her like a mule. Because of that, Kate didn't socialize much either, as he kept a pretty tight rein on her, if you know what I mean. He spent his weekends in the saloon, and not just drinking if you get where I'm going with this. But Kate's like a young stranger to most of the townsfolks. She does need the help. That's why I knew you were the right man for the job when I saw you comin'."

  "Help? The woman's alone, and she doesn't know much about farming either. Her house is spotless, and she tries her best to keep up with me in the field. And granted her cooking is well worth the work itself."

  Dickens smiled. "She'd make some lucky young man a good wife."

  Wes shot Dickens a quick frown, "Yeah, probably."

  Wesley found himself taking up for the lady. "This town must be full of bible toting hypocrites." Wesley raised his voice.

  "For sure and certain that's right." Dickens laughed. "But I knew you could help her."

  "I just came through this way, day before yesterday!" Wesley's voice was still raised in indignation.

  "I got a feeling God himself sent you." Dickens chuckled.

  "Oh now don't start on me. You know I don't settle down to regular work long." Wesley complained.

  "That's true, but you can help her while you are here, can't you?"

  Wesley frowned at the man. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were setting me up for something."

  "Look, it's a job. And she needs you… "

  "She sure as hell does!" Wesley affirmed.

  "Kinda pretty too, ain't she?" Dickens chuckled again.

  Wesley frowned once more, his temper rising, "She just lost her husband three days ago." Wesley hollered.


  "He wasn't much. He wasn't much to lose, let me tell you. Oh he did work. He got that land looking good he worked it so hard. I'll give him credit for that. And if he'd been a bachelor, I'd have probably really liked him, just for that." Dickens made a face. "But as for Kate, she'll do better without him."

  "You didn't like him either?" Wesley challenged.

  "Nope, not much. He was a hard man, a braggart to boot. And he left that pretty young thing home while he went visiting the saloons every weekend."

  "Why would he do that? I mean—"

  "I don't know. I couldn't ask such a thing. But he did. And everyone in town saw it too. He shore didn't hide the fact."

  "What was wrong with him?" Wesley toned his temper down fast.

  "Aside from being arrogant as hell, he treated that gal like a slave. Talked down to her all the time. Don't cotton to men who treat their women like that. He barked at her all the time. She fixed that place up right pretty. But it weren't enough for him, he had to drag her out in the fields and make her work right alongside him. All because he was too cheap to hire anyone."

  "What do you mean a slave?"

  "Well, he ordered her around all the time. She'd fix the house up and he'd rant and rave that she wasn't out there helping him. Nobody liked him, not even Kate… "

  Wesley's mouth flew open to say something but just stared.

  "Well, she must have liked something about him, she married him, didn't she?" Wesley fished for an answer.

  "I think she figured that a mistake really quick. She'd been alone a long time before that. I imagine anyone who came around and ask about her would impress her." Dickens nodded.

  "You know anything about her?" Wesley asked, as he began to relax now.

  "Just that her folks are dead, his folks didn't like her, she's alone and I don't know how she's going to make it."

  "Why didn't his folks like her. I mean, I see nothing wrong?"

  Dickens stared at him a minute.

  "She took Jim away from their farm, and he was the only one that was any good at farmin' in his family. They resent Kate for that. From what Kate said, his family farm was a real showoff kind of place. But it was due to Jim, not his kin."

  Wes grew silent.

  "Gotta admire a man that works hard," Wes agreed.

  "Yeah, that's why I always treated him right when he came selling his corn. But it really got on my nerves the way he ordered her around like some kid or something. She's a grown woman, a pretty one at that. You'd have thought he would appreciate her."

  "Well, I don't know much about how they got along except she don't seem to really mourn him."

  "Naw, and I can understand that."

  "She could sell the place." Wesley shook his head.

  "Maybe so," Dickens seemed to consider him a minute. "But I got a feelin' that gal don't have a home to go to. And despite she can't get any help around here, she still wants to stay. Now you figure that one out. But that ain't why I sent you out there."

  "What do you mean?" Wesley's expression hardened on him.

  "George Smith and his boys up the road from her. They are a rough bunch, always drinking and carousing. I'm afraid for the little gal. I know you are good with a gun, Wes. I was kind of hoping you'd stay a while and make sure they don't hurt her. She's alone out there, and no one knows her very well, and well, they could take advantage of that, if you know what I mean. They think she's pretty as they hooted and hollered the first time she came to town. So much so, she seldom came in."

  Wesley eyed Dickens now. "You got an interest in the woman yourself?"

  Dickens made a face at him as though he couldn't believe Wes asked him that question. "I'm a God-fearing man, and no I ain't got no interest like you are thinking. But… she's alone out there. And I've been doin' business with her and her husband since they came. I'm kind of fond of the little gal. She's got a lot of potential without that husband of hers."

  Wesley stood up and frowned, "You want her for yourself? Your way too old… " He stopped and saw the expression on Dickens face.

  "Yeah," Dickens frowned as he stood up and faced Wesley. "Old enough to be her daddy, and that's how I see her. Now we got that straight."

  "You mean—you really think that much of her?"

  "She comes from good stock, and I can tell that. She reads, likes animals, and she's pretty to boot." Dickens turned his head and eyed Wesley close. "Reads books and such. She's got a little education too. She can read and write and do sums. She's just been held down by that husband of hers. It'll take a while until she realizes she can spread her wings and be somebody someday, but it'll happen. She's like a flower that's late blooming."

  "So you actually care about her, don't you?" Wesley stared.

  "Yeah, this ole pig farmer cares, not like you think though. And I tell you something else. I will pay you to see after her." Dickens said quietly sitting back down.

  "See after her?" Wes frowned as his brow shot up.

  "I don't want them lazy no-account boys of George's messing with her. They find out her husband died, that's about all it would take. She quit comin' into town because those boys made eyes at her and whistled and carried on. From then on, she never came back. I don't want to see her hurt. She could fit in this town once people get to know her."

  Wesley sank back into the chair at the table. "Let me get this straight, your hiring me to protect her?" Again Wesley looked completely baffled.

  "Yeah, but you gotta do it discreetly." He told him. "And help her get those crops in."

  "How long?" Wesley asked, his interest peeked.

  "I ain't sure, until my money runs out, I guess."

  "You'd spend all your money on that little gal, why?" Wesley wanted to know.

  "Lots of reasons, I guess. She sat up all night with me nursin' one of my pigs back to health. With her husband griping because she stayed. She reads to me, sometimes when she comes over. Because she knows I like books. And when she used to come to town, she always spoke to me, and smiled. Ain't no one ever done anything like that for me. Not one soul. Not until I proved myself. But with Kate, I didn't have to prove anything. She said I got quality. I'm just a dirty old pig farmer, but she don't see that. If I'd have had kids, they'd be like her, that's a fact. I got money saved up, and I want you to protect her, until she can protect herself."

  "Well I'll be damned." Wesley slumped back in his chair and eyed Dickens with a smile.

  "You probably will." Dickens cast him a sarcastic smile. "You're a nice, clean fella. You got manners, you got religion, and what I consider morals. I don't think you'd take an advantage of her like most men might. Not many have those qualities. I trust you Wesley. Don't make me regret it. I want your promise you'll see after her."

  Wesley studied Dickens closely now, and slowly nodded. He was silent a moment, as though thinking over all Dickens had said, then he smiled. "You got it."

  "Just like that?" Dickens twisted his head.

  "Just like that." Wesley nodded.

  "I'll hold you to it, Wesley."

  "I give you my word," he held out his hand to shake it.

  Dickens shook it and smiled. "Good."

  They talked for a bit, then Wesley drove back to the farm. Wesley thought about all Dickens had told him and reflected on it a bit. Dickens was getting up in years and although he'd saved a lot of money, he had no family to give it to. But for some reason Kate Marley had caught his eye, in a fatherly sort of way. Wesley hadn't expected that. But he'd keep his promise to Dickens.

  Kate was still pulling corn and sweat was trickling down her back. Her shirt was nearly soaked. He studied her for a long moment. If this little gal could impress Dickens, she must be special.

  She wasn't at all bad to look at. She had a nice figure, and pretty face, and if he were the settling down kind of man, she would be exactly the kind of lady he'd consider. But being a drifter, he had to shuck that notion.

  They worked together all afternoon, and as he put the wagon in the
barn and washed up, he came inside to smell her fried chicken and put the money on her counter for her.

  "Dickens bought the corn?" She asked when she saw the money.

  "Yep, said he'd take the entire crop."

  "I know he has a lot of hogs, but I wouldn't think he'd need all of it."

  "Guess he's got some use for it." Wesley told her.

  "I like him, always have. As I've told you my husband wasn't too friendly and not many liked us. But Dickens he always spoke to me, and he took our corn right off."

  "Well," Wesley glanced at her quickly not wanting to dwell on how pretty she was. "I'd say you have a good friend in Dickens."

  "I'm sure glad he's taking it."

  "You got any buyers for the hay?"

  "Not yet. No."

  "Want me to scout around and see who might be needing it?" He asked.

  "Maybe later when we finish the corn. That might be a good idea. I'm not much of a haggler on prices and such. Jim always handled that." She told him.

  "Alright, fine."

  "So why don't you tell me about yourself a little?" she asked as she put the supper on the table.

  "Well, what do you want to know?"

  "Got a wife and family somewhere? I mean, maybe you left them or something." she asked, not looking directly at him. "I know you said you didn't, but sometimes men don't like to talk about their family."

  "No, ma'am, never settled anywhere after all my folks died."

  'How old are you?"

  "Twenty-six." He said quietly as she poured him some coffee. "How old are you ma'am?"

  "Twenty-two." She said sitting down opposite him.

  "Twenty-two and already a widow, that's kind of sad." He remarked. "Especially since there are no children."

  "Yeah," she said wistfully. "Wasn't much chance of that."

  Kate covered her mouth quickly, as she was afraid, she might have said too much.

  Chapter Five

  The next day they filled the wagon high with corn, and Kate stared at it strangely.

  "Something wrong?" Wes asked her.

  "No, but… do you think he really needs all this corn?" she asked staring at it with a frown.