The Drifter's Promise

by Rita Hestand

  "He might be mad about that. I mean, he's the one that invited you to go."

  "Well, I'll have to inform him that I'm a widow and he doesn't own me, just because he asked me to come. After all, so far, I haven't agreed to him courting me like he suggested. And I'm glad. It's too soon after Jim dying, and I don't know Mr. Campbell that well. He'll just have to understand."

  "I guess as long as you make up the rules, you have the upper hand. And that's a good thing, since you’re a widow."

  "I think you are right about that." She chuckled. "Being a widow has its advantages."

  It was an hour later when they pulled up in front of the huge building. It was constructed some time ago, but never finished, so they turned it into a community ballroom.

  Kate heard the music playing and she looked at Wes.

  "Good luck." he murmured kissing her on the cheek.

  She wanted to turn her head and kiss him on the lips, but she was in public and she couldn't do that. Still, she wondered why that thought crossed her mind.

  She blushed and he helped her down.

  He went inside with her and there was already a crowd of people there. There were long tables of food, a band playing in the distance and everyone in the community seemed to be there.

  Wes felt suddenly out of place.

  She reached for Wes' hand though and he gave her a quick squeeze. "Knock 'em dead, honey."

  Funny but his hand was sweating. Or was it hers?

  There was that word again, that sweet possessive word that tied her heart in a knot. They were friends, good friends, she reminded herself.

  "Don't be scared." He murmured next to her ear.

  He knew she was afraid, but she made it this far and when everyone got a look at her, she'd be dancing all night. And that was exactly what happened. She was whirled out on the dancefloor by an old timer who could dance up a storm and she had a hard time keeping up with him, but he never got close enough for her to step on his toes. Wes smiled when she tossed him a glance.

  Then Frank saw her and took her away from the old man and danced with her. Frank was dressed like a country gentleman and he whirled her around the dancefloor like a real dancer. Kate glanced up several times to see if Wes was there, but suddenly he was gone, and her heart fell to her stomach.

  She had no time to think about it. As Frank continually danced with her. He was a fine dancer and she felt a bit inadequate. A few butted in on them and she was whirled away again. Actually she didn’t mind. She was thankful. There was something about Frank she didn't like but she couldn't put her finger on it. She saw Frank head for the punch. It was a relief actually.

  The night was filled with dancing and talking and then Frank wanted to go outside with her. She asked him to get her a punch first, and he did. Then he took her outside and they walked in the cool night air.

  "Mr. Campbell, it's rather unseemly to be seen walking in the moonlight with a man when my husband is not cold in the grave yet."

  She sipped the punch slowly; it didn't taste spiked.

  "I figured you needed to catch your breath."

  "Yeah, I guess I did."

  "You look fantastic tonight."

  "Thank you. So do you."

  "I was afraid you might not show up." He adjusted his tie and sent a gloved hand over his hair.

  "Well, I debated as I'm not the best of dancers." She chuckled.

  "I thought you delightful."

  "I really wasn't sure about coming as it is too soon after Jim's death."

  "Yes, I thought of that too. I guess it is a good thing you were delivered and being picked up the first few times, at least."

  "Uh, yes."

  "Tell me are you still officially mourning your husband?"

  Kate didn't know how to answer that. But she knew honesty was always best. "Well, in some ways, I suppose so. But for some reason when the cat was killed, I felt better about it. As though his death was avenged. And he was resting easily once more."

  "Yes, I can understand that. And it was your hired hand who killed him, I'm told."

  "Yes, Wes Dolan." She smiled.

  "Dolan that name isn't familiar to me. Where did he come from? I mean, he's not from around here, I'd know if he was." Frank asked, his nose scrunched up with distaste.

  "He's a friend of Dickens." She said, not going into detail about Wes. Somehow, she didn't feel this man needed to know everything.

  "Ah yes, Dickens, the hog farmer." The way he said that, with the slightest sneer to his nose. Something rose up in Kate at that moment. She wanted to defend Dickens and Wes to him. "Well, I pride myself in knowing about everyone around here. Drifters are usually no accounts. As a widow woman I would suggest you find someone more reputable than that. Do you know much about him?"

  "I know he works very well. He causes no trouble and we get along fine. And…. Probably more than I know about you."

  The fact that he was telling her Wes wasn't good enough irritated her. He hinted the same about Dickens too and if he kept it up, she might give him an earful.

  "I guess that's true, but we can remedy that quickly. I want to tell you all about me. Because I see a future for us down the line. I've lived here in this valley all my life. My father bought the land I now own and raised cattle here all his life until his death three years ago. He brought his bride from Missouri to live here, my mother. They were married thirty-five years when she died. I've been a rancher ever since I was seventeen. Before that I went to some of the finest schools in Boston."

  "Oh really, that's a long way away." She said.

  "I suppose so, but they wanted me to attend some of the better schools. And I learned a lot, then came home to take over the business for my aging father. And you?"

  She felt she was reading him right out of a book.

  "My mother died early in my life. My father died a few years later. I was on my own for a little over five years when I married Jim."

  "And this husband, what did he do?"

  "My husband's name was Jim. He wasn't this husband to me." She inserted quickly.

  His brow rose a bit. "Of course, I didn't know his name."

  "He was a very good farmer. His place was a showcase. He worked hard to make it so, almost totally by himself."

  "Really. You said you lived alone for five years?"

  "That's right, on my family's property."

  "Who looked after you, an Aunt, or something."

  "No, I lived alone. I had no relatives about. Most of them were from Kentucky I'm told."

  "My God, how terrible."

  "It really wasn't that bad, it was lonely. Jim looked after me for those five years. He knew my folks, and after they died, he took it upon himself to look after me. He bought my groceries out to me once a week from town for me. He made sure nothing was amiss. I felt a bit indebted to him and when he asked me to marry, I agreed."

  "You didn't love him?"

  "No," she turned away, feeling that guilt climb all over her. She turned to face him once more. "I can't honestly say I loved him, like some blushing bride " she said simply. "But I had a lot of respect for the man. He was a tireless worker."

  "Well, that explains a lot."

  "What do you mean?" she asked feeling a bit of anger stir. The man was quite presumptuous.

  "A young woman on her own so long. And older man comes along. It's natural you might have been infatuated with his protectiveness. I can understand that. How much older was he?"

  "Ten years… " she began to be cut off by him.

  "Look, I like you. Your strong and independent and a certain amount of it is desirable. But all women need a man, to protect, and care for them. Look I'm only suggesting this but, you've got a few things to learn, and I could easily teach you. I can tell this Jim was a mistake, and you've not lost much in his death, I'd say."

  She turned bright red. So much so, she could actually feel her face heating up. He'd somehow put everyone she knew down in only a matter of minutes. "Excuse me! He saw
after me for five years. No one asked him to. He did it on his own. If not for him no telling what might have happened to me. He taught me a lot too. How to use a rifle. How to watch out for con men. And what pray tell do you want to teach me?"

  She began walking toward the building once more, tired of his arrogance.

  She knew her voice had taken on a gruffness he hadn't expected.

  "Well, I guess any man would want to teach you things, so you can get by easier. Like when I served you coffee you took the cup and left the saucer on the table. A lady knows she should hold the saucer and put the cup on it after drinking. You held it all wrong, your pinky finger should always be extended. You tucked your napkin into your dress, and that isn't done. Little things. But so important. Things I learned a long time ago in Boston."

  Why did it matter how she held her cup? What kind of man was he?

  She stared, "And I can't dance well, either."

  "All can be taught."

  "And who would teach me?"

  "I could easily." He answered taking her hand and kissing it.

  She stared at her hand. Was that a kiss? Well she couldn’t compare that. "Aren't you a rancher?" She was close to the door now, and ready to go inside.

  "I own a ranch, and my men do the work. I oversee it. To make sure it's done right. I could take the time to teach you a little something, once a week, if you'd come over. Would you?"

  "I don't know. I'm a widow and it would be unseemly as you already know for me to come see you every week. People would talk. I don't think that would be proper either. No, I'm afraid not, sir."

  "You're right. Maybe you can get your hired hand or Dickens to bring you over."

  "I don't know about that. Shall we go back to the dance?"

  "Of course, it would only give me an excuse to be closer to you." He told her close to her ear.

  She went inside, the music eased her nerves some as he came up right behind her.

  He thought so much of himself, she wanted to slap his face. What he was suggesting was unseemly.

  "Pardon me, but I barely know you. And I'm not sure I want to be schooled by another man. Jim taught me about life in general. Wes Dolan taught me how to dance, and face life head on. Now, you want to teach me how to be a lady. At what point am I done with my schooling. You see, I got an education myself. I read all the time I'm not working. I've read the bible too. And that alone taught me more than anything else I might need to know, sir."

  "Learning to be a lady would merely compliment you. As you are the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

  Now flattery.

  "It's much too soon to be saying such things of me, sir." She said and was whirled quickly away by another old man.

  "Is that your fiancé," the old man asked.

  "No, it's just someone who asked me to dance." Kate smiled at him.

  "Oh that's not just someone, that's Frank Campbell. I sure wouldn't want to rile him. But he don't look too pleased me dancing with you."

  "That doesn't matter. I am very pleased to dance with you."

  The old man smiled and continued to whirl her about. She was almost dizzy.

  Afterward she stopped off for punch and to nibble on the food. Annie came up to her. "Looks like you've been dancing with most of the men around here."

  "Yes, and I think I prefer it that way." Kate chuckled.

  "So, what do you think of Frank Campbell?" Annie glanced at her.

  "Quite the jackasss, I'd say."

  Annie nearly spewed her punch but giggled. "Oh Kate, you are something else. I love you girl. You saw through him right away. Good for you."

  "My husband taught me to recognize a snake."

  As the evening drew late, Kate went to look outside, and Wes was there waiting for her.

  "Sure you're ready to leave?" He asked, seeing her cheeks blooming with color as he helped her up to the wagon seat.

  "Very." She said angrily.

  "Woe, something go wrong?" He asked as he helped her up.

  "Let's just get out of here." She told him.

  She waited until they were out of earshot and shook her head.

  "So how'd you get along with Frank Campbell?"

  "He's an arrogant jackass!" she declared boldly.

  "Who are you talking about?"

  "Mr. Campbell, of course."

  "You got all that at one dance?"

  Wes nearly cracked up. So she got her first taste of society men. In a way he was glad, and in a way, he felt bad, as she needed a man so badly.

  "You gonna tell me what happened?"

  "Not right now, no! I'm simply too angry."

  "What did you do all evening?" she asked.

  "Still messing with that pup. He's a good dog." Wes told her. "But funny thing, Moby came and watched every move."

  "He's jealous. Well, my goodness. I'm glad. Are you going to keep him?"

  "Hadn't thought about it, but yeah, maybe."

  "Well good, he'll be a great companion for you on the road, won't he?"

  The way she said that had him staring at her once more.

  "Yeah, I guess so!" Wes couldn't figure her. "But she was in no mood for small talk tonight.

  "I need to talk to my dog!" she cried aloud.

  "Your dog, Moby? You talk to him?"

  "Of course I do. He knows me so well."

  "Don't you think you're being just a bit judgmental about this character?" Wes asked. "I mean, give him some time. Maybe you misjudged him. First impressions can be a bit wrong."

  "You weren't there, you didn’t hear what he said."

  "What did he say that upset you?"

  "He wants to turn me into a lady! He wants to teach me to be a lady." After a moment she turned to him and asked. "Do I need more education? Am I that inept?"

  Wes studied on that for a moment. "I thought that was what you are! A lady, that is."

  "So did I, but apparently not. I don't hold my teacup correctly, nor my napkin in the right place. And I certainly don't know how to dance." She almost screamed. "And he didn't stop with me, he insulted you, Dickens and Jim of all people."

  "Well, that's interesting. How did I come out?"

  "According to him none of you came out well."

  "So he wants to groom you to be his wife, huh?"

  "His wife? He doesn't want a wife. He wants a trained seal."

  "A trained what?"

  "Seal, a sea creature that they keep in captivity to train to amuse people."

  "Woe!"

  "I can assure you. But I'm not interested in being a lady. Or his wife! At least not his lady. I don't have time to be taught. And it isn't me."

  "Want me to go beat him up for you?" Wes asked with a chuckle.

  She glanced at him and broke out in a laugh. "No, not yet. Maybe!"

  "You got another date with him?"

  "No, I don't think I’m interested in him in that way."

  "Honey, look, you need a husband, or another hired hand that can handle all the work." He informed her. "And getting mad at them won't catch a husband.'

  She stopped the wagon, and stared, "I'm not husband hunting. And don't call me honey."

  "Sorry, that just kinda slipped out… " He apologized.

  "Well, you aren't courting me, so you don't have that privilege."

  Wes frowned now, not understanding how one night could change her, but it obviously had.

  "I'll find another hired hand when you leave, Wes. I don't need a husband telling me how to act, to think, to walk, to dance, or even to talk."

  "Yes ma'am." He snapped.

  "Now let's get home." She told him.

  Putting the wagon back on the road they ran into the Smith boys.

  "Well, lookie here. Been to the dance Mrs. Marley?" Hubert asked. Hubert was the youngest and had the biggest mouth.

  It was obvious they'd gotten liquored up and Kate was in no mood for this either.

  "Thought he wasn't your man," He pointed to Wes.

  "He's not. He'
s my hired hand. Now would you please get out of the way so I can get home?" she threw her hands on her hips and glared at him as she stood up.

  "Well, I don't know, what do you think boys. Maybe we should sample some of Mrs. Marley too?" Hubert popped off.

  Without thinking, Kate grabbed the whip and caught Hubert in the face.

  Hubert grabbed his cheek, "Why you… "

  He started to get down and show her a thing or two, but Wes pulled his gun. "Gentlemen, Mrs. Marley is in no mood for you right now. It might be best if you go on home right now."

  Hubert looked at the gun. Edward stared at the gun, he was older and not quite as drunk. "Oh yeah, well, maybe you are right. We didn't mean no harm. But she shouldn't ought to have hit Hubert that way."

  As they moved their wagon Edward whispered to Hubert, "Did you see how fast he pulled that gun?"

  "I saw, I could beat him…" Hubert began. "She had no call to pull that whip on me… and I…"

  "Shut up Hubert." Edward said and hurried his wagon back to their place.

  Wes stared at Kate. "Did you drink the punch?"

  "Yeah, as a matter of fact, I had several, it was so good, why?" she said handing him the whip.

  "Because you are definitely not yourself tonight. Come on, we better get you to bed."

  "I'm not going to bed with you, sir!" she shrieked, then fell on the seat.

  He laughed, "You sure aren't." He laughed all the way home.

  When he got her to the house, Dickens came out in his pajamas and stared, as Wes had to carry Kate back into the house once more.

  "What happened?"

  "Too much spiked punch." Wes chuckled.

  He put her to bed, took her shoes off and covered her up, kissed her on the forehead and chuckled all the way to the kitchen.

  "I told her not to drink it if it was spiked. I guess she couldn't tell. Said it was tasty and she had several glasses." Wes chuckled. "I couldn't figure out the severe change in her attitude, then it hit me. The punch."

  "For crying out loud. Did she have a good time?"

  "Judging from her temper tonight, I don’t think so. And tomorrow might not be any better." Wes chuckled.

  "What happened?" Dickens asked.

  "Well, where do I start. She was hot about Mr. Campbell wanting to teach her how to be a lady. Then we ran into the Smith boys, they got fresh, and she took out the whip and gave Hubert a good whack on the cheek. I guess she set them straight." Wes cackled. "I didn't know she had it in her."