Finding Promise

by Scarlett Dunn

  In her room that night, Juanita told him that she worked in the saloon because her father left her family, and she had to support her brothers and sisters. After hearing her sad story, Rodriguez gave her all the money he had with him at the time. Over the next several months, when he could get away from the ranch, he’d make trips to the border, and always took as much money as he could spare.

  It troubled the men to see the amount of money Rodriguez was giving Juanita, knowing full well that she was using him, so they told his father. He explained to his father that Juanita sold her body simply to put food on the table for her family. Instead of offering his support, which was what Rodriguez had expected, his father laughed at him. He said Juanita told that same story to every vaquero in the territory, just to deceive them for more money. His father told him Juanita had no family. Rodriguez refused to believe him, even though the men on the ranch confirmed his words. That very night after the confrontation with his father, he rode to the village and spoke to the friar. He was crushed to hear the truth. Juanita had been lying to him from that first night. He felt like a fool for giving her so much money, and for believing that she didn’t want to be with other men. Before he’d learned the truth, he’d even planned on asking her to marry him.

  Riding up to that same dilapidated saloon was a different man. Seven years ago he’d been a boy. Today, he was a man who had seen a lot of places, done a lot of things, and was much wiser to the guiles of some women. When he rode by the friar’s hut, he saw that it was now a part of the earth, so he didn’t stop.

  As he dismounted in front of the saloon, he heard someone playing a guitar, and raucous shouts filtered to the street. He walked through the door and saw Juanita dancing around the tables, creating the frenzy. Without missing a stride, he went straight to the bar and ordered a whiskey. Leaning against the bar, he sipped his drink and observed the patrons around the room. There were ten men total in the bar, mostly Mexican, and from the looks of them, they were probably running from the law. But none of them fit Jake’s description of Newcombe.

  Only after checking out all of the men did he allow his gaze to fall on Juanita. Her hips swayed to the music as she ran her hands over her body in a seductive move designed to entice every man in the room. She had the same voluptuous body, and her face was still beautiful, though hardened from years of alcohol and her chosen lifestyle.

  Juanita danced her way to him, holding her red skirt high in the air as she twirled in front of him. Just like the first time he saw her, she was wearing a red skirt and a white top that fell from her shoulders. It could have been the same clothing; the material was so thin from wear, he could see she wore nothing underneath. She swayed into his body, removed his hat, and ran her fingers through his hair. The very same move she’d made those many years ago.

  “I’ve seen you before. I know you,” she purred.

  Rodriguez stared into her glazed eyes. He figured the money she had earned over the years went to alcohol. He almost allowed himself to feel sorry for her. Almost. “You don’t know me,” Rodriguez responded, his voice hard. He wasn’t being dishonest; she didn’t know the man he was today.

  She stretched up and brushed her lips against his neck. “I do not forget a handsome man,” she murmured in his ear. When he didn’t respond, she whispered a question.

  “I’m just having one drink and then I am leaving,” Rodriguez replied.

  She pouted. “Surely you have time for me, señor, like before.”

  He wasn’t sure she really remembered him, considering all the men she had been with, or if she was guessing she’d been with him before. Probably the latter. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, she was still tempting. Luckily, his attention was drawn to the swinging door slamming against the wall. Every man in the place turned to see a big man barge in. Rodriguez knew this had to be Newcombe. Jake’s description had been accurate. Newcombe’s eyes landed on Juanita snuggled up to Rodriguez. He stalked directly to the bar and grabbed her by the arm, jerking her away from him.

  “I told you what would happen if I caught you with another man,” he warned.

  Juanita didn’t look cowed by the big man. “I wasn’t with another man, I was dancing,” she snapped back.

  Newcombe looked at Rodriguez with undisguised venom. “Why are you dancing around this Mexican?”

  Juanita smiled at Rodriguez as she studied his face. He was handsome, and he did look vaguely familiar. She’d noticed he didn’t smell like every other man in the room, including Newcombe. “He’s a paying customer, isn’t he?”

  Newcombe saw her reaction to Rodriguez and he slapped her hard across the cheek.

  Rodriguez momentarily contemplated saving Jake a trip. He straightened and faced Newcombe, but before a word left his mouth, he felt a poke in the back. The bartender had a shotgun pressed against his spine.

  “No trouble in here. If you two want to fight, take it outside,” the bartender ordered.

  Eyeing Rodriguez, Newcombe laughed. He didn’t think the Mexican was worth his trouble, and there was also the possibility he was riding with some of the other Mexicans in the room. “Give me a bottle. I got other plans today.”

  The bartender placed a bottle of whiskey on the bar, and Newcombe grabbed it before taking a handful of Juanita’s hair, pulling her behind him as he made his way to the staircase.

  Rodriguez heard Newcombe threaten her. “No other man will look at you after today.”

  “Señor, I have to eat, I have mouths to feed,” Juanita shot back at him.

  Rodriguez heard another slap as the door slammed closed. He wondered if Newcombe was wise to her lies, or if he was just too obsessed with her to care one way or the other. If it hadn’t been for his father, Rodriguez might still be obsessed with her too.

  The bartender put the shotgun back on the shelf behind the bar. “You ain’t going to start trouble, are you?” he asked, holding up the bottle to pour him another drink.

  “Not planning on it, but I won’t run from it.” As the gringo bartender filled his glass, Rodriguez said, “He don’t seem too friendly.” He remembered Cole’s warning not to use proper English.

  “He’s not, and he hates Mexicans.”

  “He seemed to like that Mexican well enough.”

  “Yeah, that’s one señorita he likes too much, but he’s so jealous he’s going to kill her one of these days when he catches her with another man.”

  “Isn’t that her business?”

  “Yeah, but when he’s around, she’d better not be with anyone else.”

  Rodriguez looked at the men at the tables; no one seemed to be too interested in what just took place. “I guess these men aren’t riding with him.”

  The bartender gave him a long look, trying to figure out if he was a bounty hunter or just plain nosy. Figuring he was probably running from the law like the rest of the men in the saloon, or maybe he’d taken a liking to Juanita, he said, “Nope, he rode in alone, and as long as you’re here, you’d best stay clear of Juanita.”

  On that score, the bartender had nothing to worry about. He intended to steer very clear of Juanita.

  When they heard a rider coming their way, Jake kicked dirt to the fire and pulled his pistol. Hearing Rodriguez’s whistle, Jake whistled back.

  “We didn’t expect you back so soon,” Cole said.

  “I think we’re in luck. Newcombe is at the saloon in an upstairs room with Juanita and a fresh bottle. I have a feeling he might be there awhile.”

  Rodriguez gave them the layout of the saloon and they took off for the village. When they reached the saloon, Jake and Cole walked inside, and Rodriguez rode to the back. Cole stood at the door with his pistol drawn as Jake made his way to the bar. “What room?” he asked, leaning over the bar and removing the shotgun.

  The bartender didn’t have to ask who Jake was looking for. “Last door on the left.”

  Taking the steps quietly, Jake moved soundlessly down the hallway. When he reached the door, he kicke
d it open with such force that it splintered against the wall.

  Newcombe was passed out, lying across the bed wearing nothing but long underwear. Juanita was on the settee across the room, rummaging through Newcombe’s pants pockets.

  “¿Que quieres?” Juanita asked.

  Jake glanced at the woman. Large dark eyes were glaring at him, not the least bit concerned that he was holding a gun. Rodriguez wasn’t exaggerating; she was a beautiful woman. Her long, black hair reached her waist, and she had a body most men dreamed about. “I’m taking your boyfriend here to jail. Wake him up.”

  “Not my novio,” Juanita replied in broken English before sauntering to the bed. She dropped Newcombe’s pants on the floor, stuffed the money in her skirt pocket, then picked up the pitcher of water off the bedside table and threw it in his face.

  The big man started coughing and sputtering, and when he opened his eyes he saw Jake standing there with his gun trained on him. He scrambled to a sitting position, his gaze going to his gun belt hanging on the bedpost.

  “Don’t,” Jake said calmly. “I suggest you get your pants on instead, unless you want to freeze your ass off on the way back to Denver.”

  “That blond woman shot my brother and he died. I wish I’d killed her,” Newcombe said.

  At least he didn’t pretend he didn’t know why Jake was there. “I think your brother got what he had coming, considering you and your gang killed nine people on that wagon train. Now put on your damn pants and be quick about it. My trigger finger is getting mighty itchy.”

  “You a U.S. Marshal?” Newcombe asked as he leaned over to grab his pants from the floor.

  “Not anymore, so don’t tempt me.”

  Once Newcombe fastened his pants he reached for Juanita and yanked her by the hair, holding her in front of his chest. Juanita tried to pull away, but he snaked his forearm around her throat so she couldn’t move. Slowly, he inched his way to his holster.

  “Far enough,” Jake warned.

  Only a few feet separated him and Jake, and Newcombe used that to his advantage. He shoved Juanita hard into Jake’s body at the same time he reached for his gun.

  With the force of Juanita’s weight slamming into him, Jake staggered backward. He tried to keep his balance while he held on to Juanita with one arm so they wouldn’t fall to the floor, but his gun hand waivered.

  “Drop your gun!” Newcombe ordered.

  Jake tried to push Juanita out of danger, but she held on to his arm. He heard a shot ring out, and Juanita slumped in his arms. He dropped to one knee to support her weight and managed to get a shot off before Newcombe fired again. The force of the impact had Newcombe stumbling backward toward the window. With arms flailing, he couldn’t stop his momentum and crashed through the glass. He hit the ground below with a loud thud.

  Jake checked Juanita and saw that she was still breathing, but he knew the wound was lethal. Cole ran into the room to make sure Jake was the one still standing.

  “Ask the barkeep if there is a doctor in this town,” Jake said.

  Cole didn’t have to go downstairs because the bartender was right behind him.

  “We don’t have no doctor,” he answered.

  Jake and Cole exchanged a knowing glance. It wouldn’t make a difference one way or the other.

  Rodriguez walked into the room and saw Juanita on the floor. “Newcombe’s dead,” he said as he kneeled down. Juanita was on her side, so Rodriguez could see the lethal wound in her back. Jake and Cole backed away. They could do nothing for her now. Seeing the hopelessness of Juanita’s situation, Rodriguez crossed himself before saying a quick prayer. Taking her hand in his, he asked, “Are you in pain?”

  Her eyes were filled with tears, but she said in Spanish, “No. I’m afraid of... Hades.”

  Hardly able to form a reply for the lump in his throat, Rodriguez took a deep breath and whispered, “Ask for forgiveness now, and you will see God today.”

  Juanita mumbled words that only Rodriguez could hear. When she finished she opened her eyes and stared at him. “I do remember you,” she whispered in a fading voice.

  “I remembered you all these years,” Rodriguez answered softly.

  She closed her eyes and smiled. “I see Him,” were her last words.

  Selecting the site where the friar’s hut once stood, Jake and Cole dug the grave while Rodriguez prepared Juanita for burial. Even the bartender had helped by hammering together some planks for a coffin. When the grave was covered, Rodriguez said a prayer.

  Jake and Cole walked away to gather the horses and to give Rodriguez a few minutes alone with her. They knew Rodriguez had some unresolved feelings about Juanita, but they didn’t push. He would tell them when he was ready.

  Jake rode beside Rodriguez as they left the village. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

  “Thank you, my friend,” Rodriguez said.

  The trip to Rodriguez’s family ranch was a quiet affair. Jake and Cole both knew they hadn’t heard the complete story about Rodriguez’s relationship with Juanita, and they gave him time to grieve. Jake had his own thinking to do. He still hadn’t come to terms with what he planned to do about Promise. He couldn’t seem to get her off his mind, no matter how long he was gone. Hell’s . . . church bells! He smiled to himself, thinking the twins would give him heck if they heard he’d almost messed up. He missed his nephews and couldn’t wait to get home to see them. They were corkers, that’s for sure, and Victoria and Colt would have their hands full if they had another boy. It was disappointing he wouldn’t be there to see the boys Christmas morning, but he’d find some presents for them in Santa Fe. Thinking about his family, it dawned on him that he thought of Victoria as his sister-in-law now, and he was no longer obsessing about her.

  As soon as they reached Santa Fe they sent a telegram to Colt.

  NEWCOMBE’S DEAD. SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH RODRIGUEZ. SEE YOU WHEN WEATHER BREAKS. MERRY CHRISTMAS, JAKE.

  Jake also stopped at the general store and picked out presents for everyone. He wasn’t going to come home empty-handed and disappoint the boys.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Jake’s telegram arrived on Christmas morning, right after Colt presented the boys with their new saddles. Though disappointed Jake would be away for another Christmas, Colt reminded himself his brother was safe and there was always next Christmas. He had so many blessings when he thought of his family and the new baby that was soon to be added, that nothing could ruin his day. He had more than enough to thank the Good Lord for at the dinner prayer.

  Colt helped Victoria unwrap their gift from Promise, and their smiles told Promise she had pleased the couple with the family portrait that included their beloved dog, Bandit.

  Victoria was moved to tears by the painting. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought the family had posed together for Promise. “How did you do this? Colt certainly didn’t sit still long enough for you to draw him!”

  “It wasn’t easy, but whenever I saw him sitting still for a minute, I tried to sketch him. The boys were almost as difficult. Bandit was the easiest,” Promise teased.

  Victoria dried her tears on her handkerchief. “It’s a lovely gift. I will treasure it always.”

  Promise handed another large package to Colt. “This is for the three brothers. I’m sorry Jake isn’t here to see it.”

  “Would you like to wait until he returns?” Colt asked.

  Finally, the opportunity presented itself to ask what she’d wanted to ask all day. “When do you think he might return?”

  “It depends on the snow. It could be a few months.”

  “He can see it when he comes back, but I want to see it now,” Luke cut in.

  Promise smiled at his eagerness. “Okay, go ahead. It is Christmas after all!”

  Colt handed the large present to Lucas. “You can open this one.”

  Luke ripped into the package. His and Colt’s mouths dropped open when they saw the painting. Promise had pain
ted the three brothers outdoors with the mountains in the background. Colt was in the center, one arm looped over Jake’s shoulders, his other arm over Lucas’s. Somehow Promise had captured their personalities. Lucas’s dazzling blue eyes and mischievous nature nearly jumped off the canvas. Jake’s intense black eyes revealed his serious nature, and Colt’s physical stature expressed his authority, but his eyes were full of love for his brothers. Colt knew without walking outside that the painting was an exact replica of the mountains behind the house. It was the scene he saw every day of his life. But he could hardly believe that Promise had captured the sun shining at just the right angle to see the cross reflecting on the mountains.

  “Oh my,” Victoria said and started weeping again.

  Colt pointed to the cross. “You saw that?”

  “Yes, a few times.”

  “A lot of people never see it.”

  Lucas said, “Promise, I swear I’m stealing you from Charles! You are beautiful and talented.”

  Charles was sitting across the room, absorbed in a book that Colt had given him about breeding cattle. Hearing his name, he glanced up and said, “Pardon?”

  “I’m stealing Promise,” Lucas repeated.

  “Okay,” Charles replied, then promptly stuck his nose back in the book.

  Everyone laughed, but secretly Promise was relieved that Charles seemed to be over his obsession to make her his wife. She had worried that he might try to give her an engagement ring again for Christmas, but he’d given her a lovely cameo brooch. She’d had Colt pick out a Western saddle as her gift to him.

  Christmas Day was almost perfect, with one exception. Jake was not there for the festivities, and no one felt his absence more than Promise. Her present to him would have to wait. It was a painting of him by the campfire. She’d painted it from the sketch she did that night on the trail. She was thrilled she’d completed all of the paintings because she had a feeling that once she returned to Charleston, she would no longer have the heart for painting. She’d been inspired by her surroundings, and by Jake. She’d take her memories with her in the form of the many sketches she had of Jake and his family.