Promises Kept

by Scarlett Dunn

  Bartholomew didn’t like the idea of Victoria going anywhere with Wallace, so he spoke up, thinking to apprise her of Wallace’s intentions. “Mr. Wallace has a ranch on the other side of the farm. He wanted Chet to sell to him.”

  The situation between Colt and Wallace became clear to Victoria and explained Colt’s acrimonious attitude toward Wallace. Both men wanted the land, and because of that they were most likely enemies. But why Colt thought Wallace was involved with the fire on his land was another question. Obviously, there were many things going on here that she was not privy to, but she wanted to live on the Barlow farm. Her farm. Home. These men could settle their differences; their feud didn’t have anything to do with her. She would never sell Mr. Barlow’s land. And she wouldn’t waste one minute worrying about men wanting to argue over buying property that was not for sale. This was a fresh start for her and the boys, and she wouldn’t allow these two men to interfere with their future.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Wallace. As it happens, I have business to attend to today. Perhaps another time. But be assured, sir, that the Barlow farm is not for sale,” she told him politely but plainly.

  “Your farm,” Bartholomew corrected. He was so pleased with her response to Wallace he wanted to give her a big hug.

  Victoria gave him a teary-eyed smile. “That may be, but we will always call it the Barlow farm.” That would be her only way to honor Mr. Barlow. She glanced at the stagecoach driver, who was pulling her valise from the roof. She missed the look that passed over Wallace’s pale features, but Colt didn’t.

  “I will hold you to that promised dinner. It was a pleasure meeting you,” Wallace said, bowing politely before he walked away.

  Colt watched him cross the road in the direction of the bank. He knew it wouldn’t be long before Wallace made Victoria an offer on the land, or tried to find a way to steal it. He expected him to be a gentleman about it at first, but if Victoria refused to sell, he’d resort to other tactics.

  “I need to send a telegram to Mrs. Wellington and tell her the news. I will get everything settled here and take the next stage out,” Victoria said. She leaned down to Bandit and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You are going to get a family after all, and you will have a farm to run on,” she told him.

  “Ruby? Is that you?” The redheaded woman who had hailed the stagecoach driver approached them.

  Victoria quickly straightened to face the woman. “I’m Victoria Eastman,” she replied anxiously.

  L. B.’s hand flew to her chest and she staggered backwards. Her ashen face looked like she had just seen an apparition.

  Colt grabbed her arm to keep her from falling over, and Bartholomew hurried to her other side to help Colt support her weight.

  “L. B.? Are you ill? Do you need the doc?” Colt inquired. He’d never seen her in such a state.

  “No no, just give me a minute,” she uttered on a ragged breath, her eyes never leaving Victoria’s face. “I’m sorry, you look very much like someone I used to know,” she uttered by way of explanation. “Someone I haven’t seen in a long time.”

  The color drained from Victoria’s face and her heart started pounding. She was certain she had never seen this woman before. She tried to maintain a calm demeanor when she responded. “Think nothing of it, these things happen.”

  “Let’s get you over to the doc’s office,” Colt offered.

  Taking a deep breath, L. B. straightened, brushing aside Colt and Bartholomew’s support. “Nonsense, I’m as fit as a fiddle. I was just startled. This gal looks so much like . . . well, no matter. I made a mistake.”

  Colt released her arm but hovered near her in the event she had another spell. “Victoria, this is L. B. Ditty. She owns the saloon.”

  “L. B.?” Victoria questioned.

  L. B. chuckled wryly. “That’s all anyone around here calls me. I never tell anyone my real name; only Sam, my bartender, knows that. I’ve never seen you around here before. Are you visiting Colt?”

  “Miss Victoria was going to marry Chet, but now we just found out he left her the farm,” Bartholomew informed her.

  Colt rolled his eyes. Bartholomew couldn’t seem to keep a thought in his head, finding it necessary to tell everything he knew. He guessed the news would spread around town soon enough anyway.

  Glancing at Colt, L. B. said, “Well, there’s another hitch in Wallace’s plans for that land.”

  “I don’t think he will give up easy,” Colt replied flatly.

  “That’s the truth of it,” L. B. agreed, the color coming back to her plump cheeks. Her gaze moved back to Victoria. “You have the most unusual eyes. I’ve only seen one other person with eyes that blue.”

  “I’m told that often.” Victoria was uneasy with the way the woman was staring at her. She had never met this woman, of that she was sure. She couldn’t imagine anyone forgetting such a character.

  “Where do you hail from?” L. B. inquired.

  “St. Louis. I work in Mrs. Wellington’s boardinghouse there.”

  “Chet was a fine man,” L. B. told her. Realizing how her statement might be interpreted, she gave Victoria a level look and added, “Now don’t go thinking he visited the saloon—he didn’t. But me and him had conversed a time or two. He was a smart man, and that’s a nice piece of land out there. It should make you a fine home.” Ready to make her departure, she nodded to Victoria and Bartholomew, then said to Colt, “I’ll be seeing you tonight, I reckon.”

  Colt wished the road would open up and swallow him right there and then. Was there one woman left in that saloon who hadn’t made it clear to Victoria that he was a fairly regular customer?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Colt escorted Victoria to the bank so she could discuss Chet’s will with the banker before he took her back to the farm. Once he dropped her off at the farm he momentarily considered turning the buckboard around and going back to town to have a talk with Lucy. Maddie hadn’t behaved as rudely as Lucy, but he intended to ask her about that stunt in front of the hotel. He hadn’t seen Maddie since . . . How long has it been? Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t been in the saloon since he returned from his uncle’s funeral in St. Louis. That meant he hadn’t seen Maddie in a long time. That in itself was unusual, since he’d seen her on a fairly regular basis for several years. But he decided he wasn’t going to be seeing her tonight either. He’d already been away from the ranch too long today and he had a lot of work waiting for him. Since tomorrow was Saturday, he’d go to town with the men and play some poker, and he’d have that talk with Lucy and Maddie.

  In her meeting with the banker, Victoria learned that Chet had left her a substantial amount of money as well as the land. At least, it was more money than she had ever seen. She couldn’t fathom why Mr. Barlow had been so kind to a woman he didn’t even know, but she was thankful. No one had ever been so generous to her. Having the money meant she wouldn’t have to depend totally on the income from the sales of her reticules. Before Victoria left St. Louis, Mrs. Wellington had suggested she send samples of her hand-sewn reticules to shops in San Francisco and London. Mrs. Wellington assured her that the shops would place orders for her designs. She hoped Mrs. Wellington was right because she could use the extra income.

  It wouldn’t be an easy life for a woman and two small boys on the farm. But no matter what, there was no way she would sell that land. She had Bartholomew to help her, and together they’d find a way to make it work.

  “Victoria,” Bartholomew yelled from the door.

  Victoria and Bandit walked from the kitchen to greet him. “Come in. Can I get you some coffee?”

  “Yes, ma’am, a man could get used to your fine coffee.” He followed her back to the kitchen. “I wanted to tell you that tomorrow I’ll go to town to get some supplies so I can build beds for those boys.”

  “Oh, Bartholomew, that would be wonderful! Thank you so much,” she exclaimed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ride with you and pick up some things.”
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br />   “I’d love the company,” he told her sincerely. Without her, he would have been terribly lonely with Chet gone. He couldn’t wait for those boys to arrive; it had been a long time since he’d been around children. “I bet you’re missing your boys.”

  “Very much, and I miss Mrs. Wellington too. I’ve grown very fond of her.”

  “Tell me about Mrs. Wellington,” he said, taking a drink of the coffee she poured him.

  By the time Colt got to the ranch, his mood hadn’t improved. Tate met him at the stable while he was unhitching the buckboard.

  “Tom and Helen went back to their house,” Tate said.

  Colt was surprised that Helen felt up to leaving. “Why did they do a fool thing like that?”

  “I told Tom you wouldn’t be happy about it, and you wanted them to stay until you found the culprits who set that fire. He said Mrs. Morris would feel better at home, but I don’t think she wanted to leave.” Tate was very fond of Mrs. Morris and he was obviously worried about her.

  “Aw hell,” Colt mumbled. Like he didn’t have enough to worry about. Sometimes Tom was just too dang proud for his own good. Now he had to send a couple of men over to watch after Tom and Helen, and a couple of men to Victoria’s place. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough men to work the ranch. He walked to the stall to saddle Razor.

  Hours later, Colt and T. J. were tying their horses to the railing in front of the saloon when Colt glanced up and saw Victoria leaving the mercantile across the street. He glanced around, but Bartholomew was nowhere in sight. He wondered what she was doing in town by herself. Just as he told himself to mind his own business, he saw a cowboy walking toward her. Thinking of the encounter with the drunken cowboys at the boardinghouse that night in St. Louis, he thought he would just make sure she didn’t have any problems. “I’ll meet you inside,” he told T. J. as he headed across the street.

  T. J. saw what had caught Colt’s attention. “Okay, boss.”

  “Delilah?” Colt heard the cowboy say as he approached.

  Victoria ignored him and turned to walk away.

  “I know that’s you, Delilah,” the cowboy said. He reached out and grabbed her arm to keep her from walking away.

  “Let go of me!” Victoria screeched. She tried to pull away and dropped her packages in the process. “I don’t know you!”

  “Honey, I’d know those eyes anywhere. You’re Delilah, sure enough,” the cowboy insisted. “Don’t you remember me? Gage Hardy.”

  She tried to dislodge his fingers from her arm. “I’m not . . .” Her words trailed away when she saw Colt behind the cowboy.

  “Let go of the lady,” Colt demanded, his tone hard.

  The persistent cowboy half turned toward Colt. “Mind your own business, cowboy.”

  Eyes narrowed, Colt’s voice took on an even more ominous tone. “I said let her go.” The cowboy didn’t appear to be drunk, but Colt thought he smelled whiskey.

  “Delilah and I go way back,” Gage Hardy said before turning back to Victoria. “Tell him. I know you remember me, honey. How can you forget a man who was with you back in Abilene?”

  Colt’s eyes slanted from the cowboy to Victoria. Her face had paled to a ghostly white and her eyes were wide. Is it fear? Definitely fear. Surely she had to know that he wouldn’t allow this cowboy to hurt her.

  Finally, her gaze skittered over Gage’s shoulder and met Colt’s eyes. “Mr. McBride, I’m afraid this gentleman has me confused with someone else.”

  Hearing her voice tremble, Colt realized it was more than fear. She was terrified, and that made him angry. “I’ll not tell you again to take your hands off her.”

  The cowboy reluctantly dropped his hand from Victoria’s arm and turned his full attention on Colt. He raised his palms in the air in a placating gesture. “Mister, would you ever forget a woman who looked like her?” he asked reasonably.

  The cowboy did have a point; Colt had to give him that. He didn’t know how two people could have mistaken her for someone else in as many days. It wasn’t as if she was common looking; he’d call her a rare jewel, certainly not a face he would ever forget.

  When Colt didn’t respond, the cowboy eyed Victoria again, but wisely kept his hands by his side. “Honey, I don’t know what game you’re playing. I know you’re Delilah, and you know I know you’re Delilah. I’ve searched this country for you for four years.” He inclined his head toward the saloon. “Are you working here now? If you are, I’ll be seeing you later.” He gave her a sinful grin, his eyes roving over her insolently. “I’ve never forgotten you.”

  Victoria was so frightened her whole body was shaking, and she couldn’t have uttered a sound if her life depended on it.

  Fortunately, Colt didn’t suffer the same problem. “You’re mistaken. The lady said she didn’t know you, so I’d suggest you walk away while you’re able.”

  Gage’s eyes moved to the pistol on Colt’s hip, but it wasn’t until he looked into Colt’s eyes that he tagged him as a man he didn’t want to tangle with. He’d lived this long by being smart enough to know when to walk away, and this was one of those times. He’d found Delilah, and that meant she lived nearby. Someone would know where she lived if it wasn’t in the saloon. Either way, he’d find her again. He tipped his hat mockingly at Victoria. “I’ll be seeing you, Delilah.” He crossed the street in the direction of the saloon.

  Victoria’s eyes remained glued to Hardy’s back until he disappeared behind the doors of the saloon. Once he was out of sight she released a shaky breath. “Does that man live here?”

  “Never seen him before. Must be passing through.” Colt bent over to pick up the packages she’d dropped, and noticed she had a tight grip on her reticule. He remembered that derringer she had tucked in there. “Seems like everyone is confusing you with someone else,” he said to ease the tension. What was the name L. B. had called her? It wasn’t Delilah. Ruby? Yeah, that was it. Ruby. And now this cowboy called her Delilah. What were the odds that there would be two other women who looked like her? One woman being her double was hard enough to conceive, but two? Coincidence? Not a chance. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

  “Where’s Bartholomew?” he asked, shoving his errant thoughts to the back of his mind.

  Victoria wanted him to go away; she needed to think. “Bartholomew should be along any minute.” She tried to pull the packages from his hands. “I can handle these, Mr. McBride.” Seeing he wasn’t going to relinquish her packages, she folded her hands at her waist. “Thank you for your help . . . again, Mr. McBride. It seems you are always rescuing me.”

  “Colt, remember?” She was flustered, no doubt about it.

  “Please don’t let me keep you. I know you have things to do.” Her eyes shot toward the saloon. “I will wait right here for Bartholomew.”

  Colt didn’t know if she was implying she’d seen him about to enter the saloon, or if she was simply trying to get rid of him. Either way, it riled him.

  Bartholomew chattered all the way back to the farm, but Victoria hardly heard a word he said. She was thinking about what she should do about Gage Hardy. That was another prayer that had gone unanswered. God wouldn’t even take a cruel man like Hardy from her life. It was almost too much to comprehend that he had turned up in Promise. She had recognized him, all right. She didn’t even have to see his face to know it was him. That voice had been in her nightmares for four years. He was a man she would never forget. How could she? She’d never felt fear like she did that night four years ago, a mind-numbing fear so palpable she could taste it today. He would have raped her in that Abilene brothel had the bartender not come to her aid. At times, it seemed like a lifetime had passed, but the memories hadn’t faded; they were as clear as the night Hardy stumbled into her room.

  The very night she was attacked by Hardy, she had grabbed the boys and left Abilene for good. It never occurred to her that anyone would even bother to look for her. Certainly not Gage Hardy, or her own mother, Ruby. She’d covered a lot
of miles and suffered unimaginable hardships since that night in the Lucky Slipper, trying to get as far away as possible, physically if not mentally. It seemed she had lived in fear most of her life, but when she took the boys and lit out with no destination in mind, it was no longer a matter of being afraid just for herself. She hadn’t taken the time to consider the consequences of stealing the boys. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have changed a thing. Knowing they were destined for an orphanage, she’d had no other option than to take them with her when she left Abilene. Their mother, Kitten, hadn’t wanted them any more than her mother had wanted her. At least she was old enough that she could earn her keep by sewing and cooking. The boys were too young to be anything but a burden to Kitten, and she would have sent them away without an ounce of remorse. Kitten and Ruby didn’t have it in them to show kindness, much less the loving affection of a mother. She couldn’t imagine those two precious boys growing up without knowing there was one person in the world who loved them.

  Hardy’s words played in her mind. I’ve been searching the country for you. She had prayed the years would change her appearance enough so that no one would ever recognize her. Just one more prayer that went unanswered. It would be a blessing if Colt was right, and Gage Hardy was just passing through Promise. If she was lucky she wouldn’t have to face him again. Problem was, she’d never considered herself particularly lucky, and now that something good had happened for her and the boys, she was sure something bad was about to happen. That was the way her life had always worked.

  By the time Bartholomew pulled the team to a halt at the farm, Victoria had come to the decision that Hardy wouldn’t force her to run. After all, she was a respectable landowner now and she could go to the sheriff and force him to take action if Hardy continued to harass her. She was determined no one would drive her from her home—not the ranchers who wanted her land, and certainly not some drifter no-account cowboy like Gage Hardy. Terrified as she was of him, she was no longer a helpless child. She had protected herself and the boys for a long time now and would continue to do so. She would never run again, even if she had to kill Gage Hardy.