Promises Keep (The Promise Series)

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Promises Keep (The Promise Series) Page 28

by Sarah McCarty


  Elizabeth placed her hands over her husband’s and removed them from her stomach. She stepped to the side. “This is my husband, Asa.”

  He took his eyes from his wife just long enough to tip his hat to Mara. “Pleased to meet you.”

  His hand hovered near the base of his wife’s spine. Mara got the impression he thought she was in eminent danger of tipping backwards. Why he would think that, she didn’t know as the woman’s stomach was so huge, Mara didn’t see how she kept from pitching onto her face.

  “I hope you don’t take offense about my visiting?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Elizabeth wiped her forehead. “Oh good. Some women are so wrapped up in propriety that they would be.”

  Mara hadn’t a clue to what she was talking about. She made a mental note to look it up in her etiquette book.

  Elizabeth grimaced and stretched her spine. “Which I think is perfectly ridiculous. There’s nothing unseemly about an expecting woman.”

  “Unless it’s the way she takes risks,” Asa muttered, his hand going to his wife’s spine where he massaged gently.

  Elizabeth groaned softly and curved into his touch. “The backaches are a killer,” she told Mara through a soft hiss of breath.

  “Oh.” Mara couldn’t think of anything more eloquent to say.

  This time, Elizabeth was the one to grimace. “I suppose I shouldn’t have mentioned that. It’s all Asa’s fault.”

  Asa’s skeptical “Uh-huh” coincided with Mara’s curious “Oh?”

  “Oh, absolutely.” Elizabeth turned, kissed her husband’s lips lightly and stepped away. “He has a complete disregard for propriety. It’s rubbing off on me.”

  Asa didn’t look the least repentant.

  Again, she didn’t know what to say. She settled for, “Really?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Definitely. If I’m not careful, our children will grow up hooligans.”

  Asa climbed the last step. This close, he was too big, too masculine. Mara shifted to the side. As if he sensed her unease, the big man took up a position on the other side of his wife.

  “If they grow to be hooligans, it won’t be because of me,” he assured Mara. “I’ve been toeing the line proper, right down to the rule that states very pregnant women should stay home.”

  Elizabeth waved off his censure. “He’s convinced our son will make an appearance the first time he looks the other way.”

  “I’m convinced you’re going to shake her out before she’s ready by riding around in that buggy.”

  Elizabeth tugged at the fingers of her black lace gloves. “I’m having a boy and if it were that easy to have a baby, they wouldn’t call it labor.”

  “Uh-huh. And if it were as safe as you want me to believe, it wouldn’t be called a delicate condition.”

  Elizabeth cocked her eyebrow at him. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “As a matter of fact I do, but seeing as you’re determined to be difficult, I’m stuck here.”

  To Mara’s eyes, he didn’t look stuck. He looked pretty darned content. And so did Elizabeth.

  Mara decided there was nothing to do but invite them inside. She wished the place wasn’t such a mess. She wished she’d baked those cookies she’d been planning on making. At least, she’d set a pitcher of tea to brew. “Would you like some cool tea?”

  Elizabeth brightened immediately. “I would love some.”

  Asa reached around both women and opened the door. He cupped his hand under Elizabeth’s elbow as she passed, steadying her as she stubbed her toe on the doorjamb. Mara thought it was cute the way he hovered while Elizabeth just proceeded as if her walk hadn’t been stolen by a waddle. The fond amusement in Asa’s eyes as he watched his wife lumber to a stop in the middle of the foyer was obvious.

  “She has no idea the number of heart attacks she gives me over the course of the day,” he drawled to Mara as he held the door open.

  “She seems fine,” Mara answered, waiting for him to step into the house so she could follow.

  “She is fine, just a bit impulsive.” He still stood there, holding the door patiently.

  “Oh, this is just beautiful,” Elizabeth called over her shoulder as she looked around the room.

  “Thank you,” Mara called back.

  “I don’t bite,” Asa offered, waving her through.

  She didn’t believe that for a moment. For all he apparently loved his wife, he was too…masculine for her to be comfortable around him.

  She folded her arms across her chest and nodded to the interior. “After you.”

  Asa sighed. “All right, but I hope you understand you are setting me up for about an hour’s worth of lecture on the proper etiquette of holding a door for a lady.”

  “You look tough enough to endure it.”

  His smile was wry. “It’s obvious you’ve never heard Elizabeth when she gets going. The woman has a mean edge to her tongue.”

  “You’ll survive.”

  “Uh-huh.” He stepped through the door. Mara was a good two feet behind him, but she caught the arched brow Elizabeth cocked at her husband and his attempt at a helpless shrug. As if a man as big and hard as he looked could pull off helpless.

  “If you’ll just have a seat, I’ll get the tea,” Mara offered, conscious of everything that wasn’t the way she would have wished it to be.

  Elizabeth’s “That would be lovely” was perfectly sweet and neutral, which made Mara feel all the more foolish when she realized there wasn’t any place to sit. She’d had one of the hands move boxes and smaller crates onto the sofa and chairs so she could unpack them.

  “I’m so sorry.” She rushed over to the armchair and grabbed a crate. Unfortunately, it was the one with the new cast iron cookware. Her arms screamed in pain and her nail tore as her hands slipped off.

  Big hands caught her waist and lifted her away from the chair. Before she could catch her breath, Asa had the back of her hands resting in his while he inspected her palms. “Darn, that’s nasty, Mrs. McKinnely.”

  His grip was gentle as he turned her hand, exposing the sliver wedged in her palm.

  “That has got to hurt,” Elizabeth said as she peered over Mara’s shoulder.

  No doubt it was going to hurt, but right now, all Mara could feel was embarrassment. “It looks much worse than it is. I’ll just go get tweezers and pull it out.”

  She tugged at her hand. Asa let her go. She stepped away, cradling her hand against her chest, keeping it angled so blood didn’t get to her dress. When she looked up, both Asa and Elizabeth were staring at her. Elizabeth with concern, Asa with sympathy.

  “I’m sorry everything is such a mess.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Elizabeth countered. “We should apologize for just dropping in without even sending a card ahead.”

  Asa reached over and pulled up the box as if it weighed nothing. “I assume you want this in the kitchen.”

  “I was going to wait for Cougar to come home.”

  “I imagine he’ll be here shortly, but for now, you can order me about.”

  She couldn’t imagine ordering Asa anywhere. “If you came to talk to Cougar, he’s not due back until about dark.”

  “I imagine he’ll be here shortly.”

  She frowned, calling after him as he made his way to the kitchen, “Why?”

  “Because I imagine the guard he’s got posted announced a rider heading here fast and he’ll not rest unless he knows who it is.”

  “Surely the guard knows Asa,” Mara said to Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth waddled over to the chair. “You might as well take his word for it. If Cougar is as possessive as Asa, he won’t be able to stand it unless he knows for sure.”

  She balanced herself on her feet in front of the chair.

  “Actually, I’m surprised he left you here alone.”

  “One of the hands is in the barn,” Mara answered, biting her tongue on a “be careful” as Elizabeth looked
over her shoulder and judged the distance to the seat.

  Asa’s “Dammit” preceded his entrance to the room. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as he wove his way back through the crates.

  “I was just going to sit down.”

  “Uh-huh.” He took her forearm in his and braced the other around her back. Light as thistledown, he settled her into the chair. “If you don’t take more care, I’m going to hire someone to sit with you.”

  “I’m pregnant, not sick,” Elizabeth retorted as she pushed herself back in the seat. With his boot, Asa nudged an empty crate to the foot of the chair. With an efficiency that spoke of practice, he lifted Elizabeth’s legs and slid the crate beneath her heels.

  “Ooh, that feels good,” Elizabeth sighed.

  “This is absolutely your last outing before our daughter is born,” Asa growled, his eyes concerned.

  “I’m having a boy.”

  “You can have whatever you want as long as you give me a sweet little girl with red hair and green eyes,” he countered as he stacked items off the adjacent chair into his arms.

  Mara felt like a third wheel, holding her hand, listening to the affection behind the argument. When Asa glanced at her, Mara pointed to a clear spot in the corner.

  “You say there’s a hand in the barn?” Asa asked, heading to the corner with the crate.

  “Yes.”

  “I think I’ll go have a word with him.” He looked around. “Right after I take care of your hand and get you two settled.”

  “It’s just a sliver.”

  Asa shook his head. “No injury is just anything.”

  “He’s right,” Elizabeth pointed out. “I’ve got my medical necessaries in the buggy,” she told Asa. “If you bring them in with the rest of the stuff I brought, I’ll take care of Mara’s hand.”

  “Sounds good.”

  He tipped his hat at both ladies, his boots making even clunks as he left.

  He no sooner cleared the door than Elizabeth said, “If you value that hand in the barn, you’d best scoot over there now and tell him to hide.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I think the word Asa wants to have with him is more in line with a beating.”

  Mara didn’t have to ask if she was serious. “Why?”

  “Asa doesn’t take chances with me. Since he and Cougar are cut from the same cloth, I imagine he doesn’t think Cougar would be too pleased to find out that we were both able to ride up here, confront you, and come in the house without someone checking it out.”

  Mara did like Bill. He was young. Enthusiastic. A bit distracted but a nice kid. “Asa really wouldn’t hurt him, would he?”

  “Hurt who?” Asa asked, coming in the door, his arms full of boxes and bags.

  “Bill.”

  “Don’t have any intention of it,” he told Mara as he put the pile down beside Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth cast him a knowing glance. “Ask him if he knows who Bill is.”

  Asa caught a hatbox as it teetered on the top, straightened it and then looked at Mara. “Who’s Bill?”

  “The wrangler Cougar left here.”

  “Oh him.”

  Never had she heard more information left out of two syllables. “Are you intending to hurt Bill?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Nope. No need.”

  The look Elizabeth sent her husband was skeptical. “Ask him—”

  Mara was way ahead of her. “Why isn’t there a need?” Mara cut in, forgetting her hand and wincing when she snagged the splinter on her dress.

  Asa’s smile was kind, neutral and sent her suspicions through the roof. “You catch on quickly. Cougar must be right proud to have you as his wife.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “Let me see your hand.”

  “Answer my question.”

  “Tenacious too. Cougar ought to be about in heaven.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question.”

  “That’s probably because I’m stalling.”

  “For what?”

  Asa pointed to the front door. “For him.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mara turned, her hand clenched against her chest. She wasn’t at all surprised to see Cougar’s big silhouette filling the doorway. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. She was entertaining the first company in her new home amidst the clutter of unpacked crates, she’d torn her hand, and she didn’t have a thing to offer them to eat. It only stood to reason he’d be there to witness the fiasco.

  She didn’t even get a chance to get out a hello. He focused in on her hand.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “Just a sliver. Nothing serious.”

  She tucked her hand behind her back, and raised her face for a kiss. He ignored her cheek and her hint. Reaching behind her, he pulled her arm to the front. His frown deepened as he caught sight of the piece of wood sticking out of her palm.

  “That’s got to hurt.”

  “That’s what I said,” Elizabeth volunteered.

  “It’s just a sliver,” Mara contested, tugging on her hand. Cougar merely tightened his grip and lifted a brow at her.

  “How’d you get it?”

  “Carelessness.”

  His golden eyes flashed at her. “So you weren’t moving those crates that I told you to leave be?”

  With absolute sincerity, she said, “I didn’t move a one.”

  His lips twitched at the corners. He held her gaze for a second more. “I bet.” He glanced at Asa and Elizabeth. “Would you excuse us while I take care of this?”

  Asa wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement as he said, “Go right ahead.”

  Elizabeth at least had the grace to appear concerned for Mara’s welfare. “It was our fault really, Cougar.” She struggled to push out of the chair.

  “No need to get up, Elly,” Cougar answered, amusement in his tone. A little knot of concern in Mara’s stomach dissolved. Cougar did not have deep feelings for Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth flopped back, shot a glare at her husband and said, “Without help, I’m going to be a permanent house guest.”

  Cougar pulled Mara to his side. “And we’d be happy to have you.” He nodded to Elizabeth and Asa. “Excuse us.”

  Mara set her feet, but that just incited Cougar to put his arm across her back and sweep her along toward the kitchen. With no other option available, she called over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back with the tea.”

  “You’d better add a couple more glasses because Dorothy said she was planning on coming over, too.”

  “Will do.” Cougar paused at the door. With his hand, he motioned Mara through. She shot him a glare, but proceeded. It really was unfair the way he used his size.

  He motioned to a kitchen chair. “Have a seat.”

  “I want to get the tea out.”

  “It’ll keep,” he pointed to the chair. “Sit.”

  She did, albeit slow enough to earn her one of those enigmatic glances he occasionally threw at her.

  He pulled his big knife from his belt. She pulled her chair back.

  “There are tweezers in the kit.”

  “Don’t need them.”

  She tucked her hand behind her back, looked at the knife and said, “I don’t think so.”

  He stood over her chair, the knife flashing in the light. “You’re a lot safer with me using this than you would be if I tried to wrap my hands around those tiny tweezers you think are going to do the job.”

  He held out his hand for hers. She shook her head and kept hers behind her back. “I’ll just ask Elizabeth to do it.”

  He shook his head. This time, he was the one who said “I don’t think so.” He curled his fingers at her and then waited. For her hand. So he could apply that nasty curved knife. Oh, she really didn’t think so.

  “I’ll just do it myself.”

  “Don’t be a baby.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She pushed back into the chair, pressing her hand into the small of he
r back.

  “Our company is waiting.” He raised his eyebrow at her.

  “Why don’t you entertain them while I get the tea?”

  “What kind of husband would I be to leave you injured?”

  “A sliver does not count as an injury.”

  “You were bleeding.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “You were last time I saw.”

  It was instinctive to check. As soon as her hand cleared her hip, he had it in his in a move so fast that she was still blinking when he held the tip of the knife up in front of her eyes. On it rested a sliver of wood.

  “On this you’ll have to trust me, Angel,” he said as she glanced up at him. “I’m very good with a knife.”

  She looked down at the small wound in her palm. At the knife. And at him. “So I see. Can I get the tea now?”

  “Just let me put some salve on that first.”

  She couldn’t help it, stop it, or otherwise mitigate it. As he took the few steps to get to the drawer, her entire body heated with a blush. He turned from the drawer, looked at her, and a slow, sexy smile began to creep across his face. “Any particular reason you’re red in the face?”

  Her “No” was a bit strangled.

  His smile was not. He dipped his finger into the jar and swirled it around as he stepped closer, holding her gaze, his eyes picking up the heat from her cheeks.

  “You sure?”

  She jumped from the chair, and grabbed the jar from his hand. “Absolutely positive.”

  He slid his hand over her buttocks as she brushed past him. That had her muscles clenching, and the heat in her face approaching a burn. “Stop it!”

  “Stop what?”

  “You know.”

  She shoved the jar back in the drawer.

  He touched her cheek. “A pity.”

  “We have guests!” she gasped and turned around.

  “Angel, I’m not doing a thing.” He rubbed the salve onto her palm. Soft, gentle circles with little pulses in the middle.

  Her knees melted. She pulled her gaze from his. She put her free hand on the counter to steady herself. She added one more to her list of things that had gone wrong today. She was an incorrigible wanton.

  He released her hand, but not his grip on her senses. He had only to be within two feet of her and they switched loyalties.

 

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