She responded by pulling his face to hers and kissing him again. This time, she was the one to pull away from his lips. Giving him a tentative smile, she whispered, “I love you.”
Colt took that as a yes, and he had her beneath him in record time, forcing Bandit to the foot of the bed in the process. His lips were on her neck and his fingers were on the third button of her bodice. All of a sudden his fingers stilled and he stared into her eyes while his mind warred against his passion. When he didn’t move for the longest time, she said, “Is something wrong?”
“I love you,” he replied, his voice low with desire. He didn’t tell her it was taking every ounce of determination to control himself. He wanted everything to be right for her, and more importantly, he wanted to do the right thing. Problem was, he’d never wanted any woman the way he wanted her. “I want to do this right,” he said. It was important to him that she knew she meant the world to him. He remembered what she’d said that day about men going to church and then seeking the companionship of the saloon women. He knew what he had to do. On the upside, he only had to wait a few days and they would be married. A few days, he mentally repeated. Lord help me!
He could actually feel her heart thumping as loudly as his own. When he lowered his lips to hers again he almost missed the sound of the door opening. Instinct kicked in, and he whipped his pistol from his holster hanging on the bedpost, had it cocked and aimed at the door before Victoria could scarcely form a thought.
“Pa, can we sleep with you? We’re scared that man is going to come back.” Not waiting for an answer, Cade and Cody closed the door behind them.
“Aw . . . heaven,” he said, relieved it was the boys and not an intruder but frustrated at the same time. Quickly replacing his gun in the holster, Colt pulled the covers back. “Come on, boys, hop in.” The twins scampered across the room and dived on the bed.
“You two don’t have to worry about anything. You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he assured them.
“We know, Pa,” they said together.
“We just feel safer with you,” Cady told him.
“Yeah,” Cody agreed.
Their words made Colt feel ten feet tall. And every time he heard the word pa he got a lump in his throat. “The only thing you need to think about tonight is that surprise I have for you tomorrow.” He’d already told Victoria he was giving the boys their horses tomorrow. What she didn’t know was he’d picked out a horse for her too. He intended to teach her to ride along with the boys.
“A surprise, for us!” they chorused.
Colt had a lot to learn about little boys, Victoria thought. “Shhh. You need to go to sleep or you don’t get your surprise.”
“Okay, Ma. Night-night, Pa,” they said, settling down beside Colt.
“Good night,” Victoria and Colt said together.
Victoria’s eyes welled with tears. When she told them she was marrying Colt, they’d asked if they could call her ma since they were going to be a real family. She thought her heart would burst from sheer joy.
“Do you think Mrs. Wellington will keep them on our wedding night?” Colt whispered in her ear.
She loved him all the more because he wasn’t upset, he was actually smiling. “I’ll see to it, cowboy,” she promised.
Five minutes later, Colt found himself in the middle of the bed on his back with Victoria snuggled close, her head on his shoulder. Both boys were on his other side, and Bandit was between his legs, snoring loudly. Not too long ago he thought he liked his life the way it was. He hadn’t known what he was missing. He leaned over and kissed Victoria on the nose, and whispered, “I could get used to this.” He couldn’t afford to take his good fortune lightly. He had to learn to let God fight his battles. “I won’t go after Thomas,” he whispered to her.
She hugged his neck and started to cry.
“Now don’t cry,” he said. “I thought that would make you happy.” More than anything, he wanted to make her happy. She deserved that.
“They are happy tears,” she sobbed. She pulled his face to hers and gave him a kiss. “Thank you.”
He grinned at her. He might not understand her on occasion, but he was willing to spend the rest of his life trying. “I’ll be expecting thousands of those kisses,” he told her. Victoria settled close to him and he knew he’d never been happier than he was in that moment, his family in his arms. He looked out the window at the glittering stars in the night sky and said a silent prayer, thanking the Lord and Chet Barlow.
She may be an heiress, but Parker Promise Sinclair
cares more about living an adventurous life than
snaring a suitable husband. So it’s no surprise when
she jumps at the chance to join a Wyoming
wagon train—only to survive a massacre that
leaves her with no memory, a target on her back—
and her abiding faith tested by the only man
who can possibly protect her.
His gunfighting skills and trail savvy have saved
U.S. Marshal Jake McBride more times than he can
count. And his instincts tell him the only way to keep
Promise alive is to take her along on his high-stakes
cattle drive. But she soon proves she can ride and
shoot with the best of them—and Jake finds it
increasingly difficult to keep himself from
falling for her. Soon, with danger closing in,
they’ll have only one chance to face their doubts,
their fears—and their growing love . . .
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
FINDING PROMISE,
the second book in Scarlett Dunn’s
McBride Brothers trilogy,
coming in January 2016!
Prologue
Charleston, South Carolina
Dear Aunt Nettie,
I hope this letter finds you and Uncle John well. Matthew and I were delightfully entertained by the stories of your grandchildren in your last letter. My cousins are certainly procreating at a rapid pace! I am eagerly awaiting our departure for Colorado, heartened to soon be with family again. In all truth, I can barely contain my excitement, but my brother may be somewhat reluctant, as he has a sweetheart he is leaving behind. I do not suffer the same hesitation since I have yet to meet a suitor who garners more interest than my painting. Matthew is of the opinion that I would be less willing to leave the familiar behind if I were more conventional like Mother. I remind him that our proper mother married her direct opposite, so she obviously desired some excitement in her life. I daresay I inherited Father’s adventurous spirit instead of Matthew.
Wouldn’t it be grand if Father and Mother were still with us to share in this journey? It was Father’s dream to go West, and he always regretted not traveling with you years ago, before he became governor. Aside from being with family again, I am absolutely thrilled by the possibility of capturing an actual cowboy on canvas. I am confident the novels over-romanticize these heroes of the West, and they cannot possibly live up to my expectations, but that does not diminish my enthusiasm to see them in person.
We are leaving Mr. Smythe, our barrister, to care for the estate while we are away. He is a capable man whom Father trusted implicitly. I doubt I shall return to Sinclair Hall in the near future, but I will not be surprised if Matthew returns within the year. He is interested in politics, and he would certainly have a future should that be his course.
The families we are traveling with are wonderfully caring people, and thrilled to be joining their families. Uncle John was a dear to provide that piece of land so they could start their little community. They are confident God will protect us on our journey, and I truly hope God is listening, as they refuse to carry weapons. Mr. Vincent, the leader of the group, told us he will be armed. Because he has made this journey twice, everyone places great confidence in his abilities.
We should arrive in Colorado in mid-August. By
the time you receive this post, we will be well on our way. Please pray for our safe journey, and God willing, we will see you before winter. Give my love to Uncle John and my cousins.
Your loving niece,
Promise
Chapter One
If you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Dodge City
TELEGRAPH TO COLT MCBRIDE, WYOMING TERRITORY WE DELIVERED THE JUDGE. MEETING UP WITH THE CATTLE DRIVE IN THE PANHANDLE. EXPECT US WITH TWENTY-FIVE HUNDRED LONGHORNS BY END OF AUGUST. KISS YOUR WIFE FOR ME. JAKE
The telegraph operator peered over his thick wire-rimmed spectacles at the tall, muscular man at the counter. “Is that all?”
“Yep,” Jake McBride replied, placing some coins on the counter.
Cole laughed. “Your big brother is gonna kick your butt all over Wyoming for that last sentence.”
“It’ll give him more incentive to take good care of that beautiful woman.” Jake wanted to needle his big brother for no other reason than Colt thought he was the luckiest son-of-a-buck alive. He wasn’t jealous of Colt—he was the finest man he knew, and he deserved a woman like Victoria. Plain and simple, he was envious.
Cole slapped Jake on the shoulder. “I don’t think Colt needs incentive. I’ve never seen a man more in love.”
That was the truth if Jake ever heard it. Colt was crazy in love with his new bride. In Jake’s estimation, Colt had found the perfect woman, not to mention the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was also the reason he needed to get out of Wyoming for a while. Even his brother could see he was half in love with Victoria from the moment he saw her. Being recently reunited with Colt, he couldn’t allow his feelings to cause any ill will between them. It had taken him ten years to go home to Wyoming, but once he saw Colt, and the ranch where he grew up, he realized it was where he belonged.
Jake had resigned as a U.S. Marshal, along with his partner of ten years, Cole Becker. They’d just escorted the territorial judge to Dodge as a last favor for their boss, and now they were on their way to meet up with the cattle drive headed to Wyoming.
While Colt placed no conditions on his return to the ranch, Jake didn’t think it was fair to come back after all this time as an equal partner with no investment of his own. Colt had single-handedly made the ranch more successful than it had been under their father’s control, and Jake didn’t take that lightly. He couldn’t make up for the years Colt had invested in back-breaking ranch work, but he could use his savings to buy cattle to add to the ranch’s herd. He also figured the months spent on the drive would give him the time he needed to get his head on straight where his sister-in-law was concerned. Logic told him his infatuation would fade with time, but as he had learned through the years, logic and emotion didn’t often ride double.
Once they exited the telegraph office, Jake looked up at the low-hanging gray clouds. “Storm’s brewing, and from the looks of it, it’s going to be a good one.” The weather hadn’t posed a problem until now, but the angry-looking sky foretold that good fortune was coming to an end.
Cole glanced at the sky with a grim face. “Yeah, just as we’re headed into Indian Territory.”
When they reached their horses, Jake felt the first drop of rain on his Stetson. “Let’s ride.”
It had been raining for two solid weeks since Jake and Cole left Dodge, and today was more of the same. Jake was riding point in a torrential downpour, well over a mile ahead of the cattle, trying to locate a defendable place to camp for the night. Hearing thunder ahead of him was a sure sign the storm wasn’t easing. They were going to be in for a long night with twenty-five hundred head of restive cattle. He’d instructed Cole and the rest of the men to keep the cattle as close together as possible, hoping to forestall problems before nightfall.
An ear-splitting crack of lightning caused him and his horse both to jump. Jake stroked Preacher’s neck. “That scared you as much as it did me, huh, boy?” More loud bursts of thunder ahead of him darkened his mood even more. “This storm is getting worse by the minute,” he muttered. Hells bells! I’m a dang fool for not stopping before now.
Another round of piercing pops rent the air, but within seconds he realized it wasn’t thunder. Gunfire. Hearing gunshots out in the middle of nowhere was never a good sign. Nudging Preacher forward, the rain pelting them both in the face, he was tempted to set a pace that matched his foreboding sense of urgency, but he wouldn’t pose a danger to his horse. They hadn’t ridden much farther when the rain started coming down so hard he couldn’t see a foot in front of him. Pulling Preacher to a halt, he dismounted and pulled a bandana from his back pocket to dry Preacher’s face as best he could. “I don’t think you can see any better than me,” he said in a soothing voice. It wasn’t going to do a bit of good with the rain coming down like it was, but he knew it would soothe his horse all the same. Preacher had also been his partner for ten years, and he knew the horse hated more than anything to have water on his face. Preacher nudged his hand as a thank-you.
When the rain changed to a steady drizzle, he remounted. Pulling his Winchester from the boot, he told himself it might be nothing, but experience warned not to ignore that little voice in his head that something was amiss. And right now that little voice was beginning to sound like the seventh angel’s trumpet.
He’d covered about a quarter of a mile when he noticed something on the horizon that looked oddly out of place on the barren landscape. “Whoa, boy,” he murmured, pulling Preacher to a halt again. He squinted, trying to make sense out of what he was seeing. Wiping away the water dripping from his eyelashes, he blinked, trying to focus. What was it? Crazy as it sounded, what he saw reminded him of large white flags whipping around in the storm. Searching the terrain, some movement caught his eye, and he saw riders hightailing it to the trees some distance away. He clicked Preacher forward.
As he drew closer, Preacher laid his ears back and started sidestepping. Jake’s senses went on high alert. His horse was as good at detecting danger as any U.S. Marshal he’d ever seen. Out of habit, he stroked Preacher’s neck as his dark eyes assessed the situation. The riders were well out of sight, so he didn’t know what had Preacher so worked up. “Settle down, boy. I don’t see anyone moving about.” He focused again on what he thought were flags, and realization dawned. Covered wagons. They were turned over on their sides and the canvases had been ripped apart, leaving the tattered pieces to flap in the wind like sails on a ship.
“Come on, boy. Let’s see what this is about.” Preacher snorted at him as if he disagreed with the command, but he moved ahead. Jake counted six wagons overturned as he reined in at the nearest one. Dismounting, he held on to Preacher’s reins just in case he needed to make a fast getaway. What happened here? Indians? Is that who was riding away? They hadn’t encountered any Indians so far on the cattle drive, but that only meant one thing: They were due. One thing was certain; if Indians were around, he figured he’d see them soon enough. Not many places to hide out here in the open, but they sure had a way of appearing out of thin air.
The thunder and lightning had lessened considerably, so he figured he could hear trouble if it came calling. Scanning the area, he saw all manner of items from the wagons scattered about. Judging by the destruction, and some costly articles left behind, it occurred to him that whoever did this was looking for something in particular. Spotting a man on the ground near the first wagon, he released Preacher’s reins and hurried toward him. As he approached, he saw the blood covering the front of the man’s rain-soaked shirt. He didn’t need to touch him—his eyes had the vacant stare of a dead man. There was a rifle beside the man and Jake picked it up to see if it had been fired. It hadn’t. The man’s pistol was still in his holster. He walked to the overturned wagon and peeked inside. A woman was lying half out of the front of the wagon, so he hustled around to check her. Shot dead. A few feet from her was another man lying dead on the ground. What in heaven’s name happened here? He ran to the other
wagons, praying to God he would find someone alive. He found six more bodies. Everyone shot—no arrows, but Indians had guns, he reminded himself. Questions circled his mind. Why weren’t they traveling with a larger group? Had they been ill and left behind? And why in heaven’s name had they stopped out here in the open? Not the best place to stop for the night if they needed to defend themselves from an attack.
Reaching the last wagon, he saw a woman lying facedown near a large overturned trunk, and a man lying several feet from her. Again, he scanned the horizon to make sure no one was waiting to shoot him in the back. Approaching the woman first, he kneeled down and gently turned her over. He pushed aside her long, wet hair from her face. Her eyes were closed, and blood oozed out of her temple. He placed his palm on her chest to see if she had a heartbeat. Alive! Her heartbeat was faint, but it was there. Thank God. Wiping at the blood on her temple, he tried to see how badly she was injured. It looked like a bullet had grazed her, but fortunately it wasn’t lodged in her head. He searched her limp form for additional signs of injury, and finding none, he stood and pulled off his slicker to cover her. It didn’t make a lick of sense because her clothing was drenched, yet it made him feel better. He walked to the man lying nearby to see if he was as lucky as the woman. He wasn’t.
Promises Kept Page 30