Past Promises

by Jill Marie Landis

  She started to jump off the boulder.

  He stopped her with a touch. “Don’t fly off your high horse, Jess. Just listen to yourself.”

  “I don’t have to listen.”

  “Oh yes, you do. I figure you have three choices. You can give up and run back to Boston, or you can tough it out, get back out there, and get to work.” With a broad wave he took in the high desert around them. “Write your boss and let him know what you’ve found so far.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. That’s all he needs to know right now. For the time being, you can use the ranch as a base and explore the area. I’ll ride with you or send one of the men along when I can’t. If you find anything new or decide you want to go back and work the floor of the dry creek again, I can loan you what you need to set up camp. It won’t be as grand, but at least you’ll be able to carry on. Once you’ve made a find, you can let them know what happened and maybe they’ll be willing to credit me for replacing what you lost.”

  He could tell she was thinking over his proposal. Then she shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t want to be indebted to you.” She looked up quickly. “I don’t want to be indebted to anyone.”

  “You have to let people in, Jess. Let them help you. You’re part of the human race.”

  “I’ve had to fight so hard for what I want,” she said softly.

  “That doesn’t mean you have to fight alone. We could draw the deal up fair and square, if that’s what bothers you. We’ll keep track of every penny I loan you.” He shoved his black hat off his forehead and squinted toward the setting sun.

  Jessica smoothed the material of the black skirt across her knees. “What’s the third option?”

  Rory knew then he was three kinds of a fool for even thinking what he was about to suggest. Tipping his face up to the sky, he took a deep breath and then met her intent gaze again. “You could give it all up, stay here, and marry me.”

  “What?”

  He shrugged, suddenly very interested in the bib front of his shirt. He rubbed a hand across his jaw. In a voice that was barely audible he explained, “We could get married.”

  Jessica was so shocked she couldn’t even respond. Instead she placed her palms on the rock beneath her, fulfilling a sudden need to ground herself to the earth. Had he lost his mind?

  “Why would you ever suggest such a thing?” Her face was flaming so much that she had to look away to gain a semblance of control. Had she shown such abandon when he kissed her that he felt the need to propose? Or was he merely feeling sorry for her? Certain the latter had to be the case, she said, “I don’t think a marriage based on pity would last very long.”

  “I don’t pity you.”

  “No? Then why a proposal?”

  “This isn’t Boston, Jess. Out here people can’t take time bothering with long courtships. The way I see it, marriage is just one more step in a man’s life, like births and deaths and burials. People adapt. They learn early to do what’s practical, what suits. In some ways, we’re a lot alike.”

  More than doubtful, she turned to stare at him as if he’d lost his mind. He wondered if he had.

  “How are we alike?”

  He cleared his throat “Well, you’re more or less doing what your father raised you to do, and so am I. From the time I was old enough to walk, I’ve been working the ranch. All any rancher has to put his stock in are his children. In my pa’s case, he only had me to pass the land along to. Your father was a paleontologist—”

  “A famous paleontologist.”

  “And he taught you everything he knew.”

  “He tried,” she admitted.

  “So that you could take over for him in the same way I’ve accepted responsibility for the Silver Sage. In that respect, we are a lot alike. We’ve both been raised to fulfill our fathers’ dreams.”

  She sighed. “We hardly know each other.”

  “Some folks never even meet before they agree to marry.”

  “Like a mail-order bride?”

  He nodded. “Like a mail-order bride.”

  “But we have met”—she frowned at him—“and as I recall, that in itself didn’t go very smoothly. Most of the time I don’t think you even like me very well.”

  Rory thought of his sleepless nights on the trail, of how he’d volunteered for more night shifts than the rest of the men because she was on his mind so much he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing her. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Oh no?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  She still looked skeptical. “And most of the time I don’t think I like you much, either.”

  “You can say what you like, but the way you kissed me tells me something in you takes a fancy to me.”

  “Please don’t bring that up.”

  “Why not? That’s about all I’ve been thinking about for two weeks now.”

  Jessica jumped down off the rock. Her feet hit the soft dirt and left shallow impressions when she walked away. Careful to avoid rocks and twigs, she made her way to the edge of the rise. So, he had been as affected as she by their kiss. Before the disaster she had been aroused by the memory of it—more times than she liked to admit. Still, she never expected the brief exchange to lead to a proposal.

  The rock shadows were lengthening. The few billowy clouds that sailed against the sky were tinted blush pink. A chunky rain crow scolded a wren. The day was coming to a close. Birdsong would soon cease and the coyotes, owls, and other night creatures would take over the land. The softening of the light, the paintbrush colors that streaked the sky helped to ease her soul. Behind her, Rory Burnett sat patiently awaiting an answer.

  The fact that she had always fought so hard to steel her emotions and hide her feelings from the outside world made it easier for Jessica to appreciate the courage it had taken for him to show his. She envied him that. Therefore she refused to do Rory Burnett a disservice by taking his proposal lightly.

  The wide-bottomed skirt flared around her, sending up minute tornadoes of dust as she turned around. “I’d never been kissed before. My reaction was purely one of astonishment mingled with curiosity.”

  “There must be a lot more you’re still curious about.” He tried to hide a smile and failed completely.

  “I have no doubt that you are an expert in such matters,” she told him smugly.

  “Not hardly,” he said.

  His response was so immediate she knew that he believed it to be true even though she didn’t. Jessica gave him a sidelong look. “Still, you are far more experienced than I.”

  “Would you be happier if neither of us knew what to do when the time comes?”

  “The time is not coming. Therefore I don’t know why you would propose to me, Mr. Burnett, on the basis of one kiss—unless, of course, you see me as less than virtuous. Or as a mercy case.”

  “You’re about the most virtuous woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Miss Stanbridge. And if I didn’t think you were, then I certainly wouldn’t have asked you to marry me.”

  “Then you pity me.”

  At that he stood up and closed the distance between them in two strides. He took her by the arms, his gaze so intent that it captured and held hers. “The truth is, for some inexplicable reason, I want you, Jess. I’ve thought about nothing but the way it could be between us ever since I was crazy enough to kiss you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted any other woman, but more than that, I want you to want me.”

  Shaken by his blunt admission, Jessica was consumed by the images his words conjured. She could only guess at what an intimate, man-woman exchange between them would be like, but it was enough to make her palms sweat.

  He had spoken of wanting, of a physical need. She was too clinical a scientist and far from foolish enough to deny that h
is touch, indeed, his very nearness, aroused certain biological responses in her. Even now she could feel the heat of his hands through the black bombazine. She was close enough to smell the heady scent of his soap, could see the way his gaze dropped to her lips and lingered, much as they would during a kiss. There was no denying her attraction to him, the pulsing need he easily stoked without really trying. She knew for certain that the longer she stayed near him, the closer she came to walking a fine line between giving in to her physical need and holding on to her virtue. Still, shouldn’t there be more than physical need and attraction between a man and woman for a lasting relationship?

  “What about love?” she surprised herself by asking. “Do you love me?”

  “I don’t know much about love, but I figure wanting something real bad isn’t a bad place to start.”

  She raised her chin. “I always thought the opposite was true, that loving someone would lead to . . . well, more.”

  He couldn’t help but smile again. “I haven’t had much experience with this sort of thing—loving someone, that is.”

  “All the more reason I must decline your proposal.”

  His hands dropped to his sides, but he didn’t step away. “So you’re planning to turn tail and run home?”

  She sighed, her senses calming somewhat now that he had let go of her, but still unable to think things through. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’m sorry that Myra and I have become so dependent upon you. I insist on paying for our food and lodging.”

  “Forget it, it’s my pleasure.”

  “Thank you, but I will repay you.” She thought for a moment longer before she decided, “For now, I think I’ll take your suggestion and let Ramsey know what I had discovered before the flood without mentioning last night’s disaster. I have a letter all written that I managed to save, along with the official documents from the museum. They aren’t much, but they’re a start, and a reason for hanging on a bit longer. Besides, Myra needs to rest until her ankle heals.”

  Pleased that she had agreed to as much, Rory added, “Maybe tomorrow we should ride back out to the dry creek and see if there’s anything you can salvage.”

  “Do you really think we can carry on in a businesslike manner after what you’ve told me today?”

  He folded his arms as he stared down at her. “Miss Stanbridge, I’m sure you’ll be able to put my need out of your mind and carry on with your usual fortitude.”

  “But surely you don’t have time, anyway.”

  Lifting his hat, he pulled the brim low on his forehead. “You’re still the boss, remember? As I recall, I haven’t been much of a guide for nigh onto two weeks now.”

  Jessica couldn’t help but smile in return. The reaction felt foreign to her after so many hours of sorrow and confusion. “You may be right. There might be something of value left. I’m also interested in what the creek bed looks like. We had quite a perimeter dug around the exposed fossils; I can’t imagine what the force of the water might have done.”

  Behind her, the sun was nearer the horizon, but there would still be an hour before it set. The dinner bell clanged in the distance. Rory turned toward the gravesite again, ready to head back downhill. He picked up his Bible.

  “Who knows,” he said as they walked along together, turning in unison toward the iron fence that rimmed the family plots, too aware of the fresh mound of earth they were leaving behind, “maybe the flood did your job for you. There might be a great big pile of leftover saurian lying right there waiting for you to crate it up and haul it back to Boston.”

  “There might,” she said, more than doubtful, “but I’m beginning to think that nothing comes that easily.”

  His thoughts turned to the high mesa and what he knew was just waiting to be discovered near a cave in the bluff. The one thing in the world Jessica Stanbridge wanted most was not a day’s ride away, but because of past promises, it was not in his power to give it to her. What would she do if she ever found out that he’d known about a complete skeleton all along but kept the information from her?

  When she stepped on a sharp stone and let out a yelp, his attention shifted back to her immediately. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine. Really I am,” she said when he looked displeased.

  “I’m glad that wasn’t a scorpion.”

  “So am I.” Teetering on one foot, Jess rubbed the sole of the other with her thumb.

  As he stood contemplating her Rory realized all too clearly that the one thing he wanted most in all the world was standing there beside him.

  With that thought in mind, he slipped an arm beneath her knees, the other around her back, and scooped her up against his chest.

  “What are you doing? Put me down,” she protested.

  “Hold still or I’m liable to drop you on your behind. You’re not all that light, you know.”

  She crossed her arms defiantly, unwilling to hold on and help him in any way.

  “I think you should know,” he told her, his lips far too close to her ear, “that I don’t intend to give up until I get what I want.”

  “You sound like a spoiled child, Mr. Burnett.”

  “Maybe so, but I think you should be warned.”

  She told him as coolly as she could, considering the fact that his lips were now inches from her own, “I was sent here to do a job and I’m going to do my best to succeed.”

  “That doesn’t mean I have to stop trying,” he warned.

  “That doesn’t mean you’re going to succeed, either.”

  KNOWING HE WANTED her in a carnal way didn’t help Jessica get to sleep that night. And as for his surprising proposal of marriage—she tried to tuck the knowledge away like a keepsake that she could take out when her days in the high desert were far behind, but Rory’s bold proclamation dogged her until dawn.

  Giving up on sleep, she rose at first light, dressed in the made-over calico, still tired. But even with the lack of sleep, she was feeling more herself. Scratchy had returned her freshly laundered clothes and someone had even polished her shoes. With a silent blessing for the feel of fresh underclothing next to her skin, Jessica took a look in the mirror over the washstand and proclaimed herself fit enough.

  Sunlight streamed through the eastern windows, dust motes dancing along the sunbeams that fanned out and slanted across the wide plank floors. She hurried out of her door to Myra’s room, knocked twice, and entered. Myra was pulling herself to a sitting position, still disoriented and sleepy-eyed. There were three books on the nightstand that had been borrowed from the Burnett library. Jess smiled when she saw the one-stemmed spectacles lying atop them.

  “Did you sleep in?” Jessica bustled over to Myra’s bedside, helped her to a sitting position, and fluffed the pillows.

  “My, you’re certainly energetic this morning,” Myra grumbled with a jaundiced eye.

  Jessica pulled up a chair and sat down, disregarding her friend’s expression. “I’ve come to some decisions and I want to discuss them with you.”

  Myra perked up considerably. “By all means, go ahead, but first of all, how was the burial? How did you manage it?”

  Jessica began slowly. “It was just as you said. I needed to see Whitey through the final step, just as the others did. It was far from pleasant”—she thought back to the solitude of the windswept hillside, of the loneliness of the four graves and the newest one outlined against the crooked fence—“but I’m glad I went.”

  “Now, what of these monumental decisions? Not giving up, I hope?”

  “Not yet. Just before the flash flood I was writing a letter to Director Ramsey outlining my progress. I saved the letter along with my documents.”

  “How?” Myra wanted to know.

  Jessica looked disgruntled by the interruption. “I tucked the leather pouch inside my waistband. Anyway, R
ory suggested I go right ahead and post it as if nothing were amiss.” She frowned thoughtfully for a moment. “Of course, I’ll have to recopy the original letter, as it’s a little water-stained. That will give me time to go back out to the dry creek and see if the flood exposed any more of the fossils. I could also scour the area for further discoveries. Rory has even gone as far as to suggest I borrow whatever supplies and equipment I need to complete—”

  Myra looked thoughtful. “I have a little money set aside. I could wire my attorney and—”

  Jess held up a hand. “Absolutely not. You’ve already spent too much of your savings on this trip.” She stood and began to pace the room. “Burnett has agreed to keep an accounting so that any monies or goods he lends me can be replaced by the museum.”

  “Once you eventually let them know what’s happened, you mean?”

  “Myra, do you think I’m being dishonest by withholding the information for a while?”

  Myra contemplated the idea for a moment. Her eyelids slowly lowered. Finally they closed all the way.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  Myra sputtered awake. “Sounds like a fine idea to me. Let’s say you had already mailed the letter off, they’d be learning the facts in the same sequence. Why not go ahead and establish a working site again before you contact them? I’m more than willing to stay on. In fact, I’m quite anxious to start all my sketches over. Besides, I’m not up to going anywhere very soon.” She yawned again. “Do you think I could have some coffee? I know that man in the kitchen has probably been up for hours concocting new ways to ruin steak and eggs.”

  Jessica knew more than to press Myra further once she had become preoccupied, especially with food. “I’ll see about some coffee.” She crossed the room and pulled open the door.

  “By the way,” Myra began after stifling another yawn. She was watching Jessica closely, her tone far from matter-of-fact. “I happened to see Rory Burnett carrying you across the yard into the house yesterday. I have a clear view of the porch from here.”

  Jessica closed the door and stalked over to the foot of the bed. After taking a deep breath, she shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, but kept her voice lowered. “I was without shoes and had stepped on a stone. He insisted he carry me back from the graveyard. That’s all.”