The Promise

by River Laurent

  He comes even closer and Thunder remains stationary, not bothered by his presence. I’m amazed by the fact that Thunder isn’t reacting negatively toward Butch. “You’re doing great,” I say encouragingly. Am I encouraging myself or Butch? I’ve only been around these animals for nine days, but I feel connected to them. Am I ready to be responsible for someone else as well as myself and Thunder?

  “Just pet his snout. He won’t hurt you,” I promise. I don’t know if he’ll get anxious about being touched, but he’s tied to a post. He won’t be able to do any damage while restrained by a rope.

  “Okay,” Butch mumbles, reaching his hand out. He doesn’t touch the horse’s head, though. Instead, he hovers for a moment then begins to pull back.

  I grab hold of his hand and place it on Thunder’s face. He jumps slightly, evidently surprised by the close contact and my forceful gesture, but he doesn’t attempt to break free. Instead, he wiggles his fingers on Thunder’s snout and the horse snorts nervously and swishes his tail. Butch looks at me and smiles with an awed expression.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Lars says from behind us, startling Thunder and making Butch and I leap apart in shock. I jerk my head toward him, baffled as to why he sounds so livid.

  Chapter 23

  Cass

  His jaw is clenched tight and his eyes are narrowed dangerously on both of us. “I asked what the hell is going on here?”

  I don’t know what he thinks is going on, but the whole situation is quite absurd. A weird giggle escapes from my mouth, but Lars doesn’t think it’s funny at all. He glowers at me.

  “I’m just teaching Thunder not be nervous around men,” I explain.

  “Oh, you are? And does that involve holding hands and being right on top of one another?”

  My jaw drops open. “What’s your problem? You hired Butch to hang around me, and now you’re here acting as if we’ve done something wrong.”

  He strides in our direction, his whole body strung tight like an animal about to pounce. “Leave,” he says firmly to Butch.

  Butch doesn’t hesitate to do as he is told, but he looks back and meets my eyes to ask if I’ll be okay with Lars. Brave of him. I smile slightly at him, and he hotfoots it away faster than I can blink.

  Lars takes another step toward me and Thunder suddenly goes crazy from his proximity to us. I try to pacify him, but it is no use. He can’t handle being this close to another man, especially one who is as angry as Lars. He’s probably picked up my angry vibes too.

  “Back off, Lars,” I say, trying to block his body from Thunder’s view.

  Of course, it doesn’t work, for he is much taller and broader than me. The lead rope attached to the fence is doing its job and keeping him from bolting, but I begin to worry about him hurting himself in his attempts to get away from Lars.

  “Lars, back the hell up, please,” I shout at him.

  Lars leaves my side and Thunder begins to calm down.

  “Tamara,” he calls, but I’m so furious with him I don’t even bother to turn my head. He has been unbearable ever since my arrival. I know I provoked him at the beginning, but I’ve stopped that now and he still insists on being nasty at every opportunity. I continue stroking Thunder as tears prickle the back of my eyes. It’s just anger, I tell myself. It’s anger, but I’m hurt too. No matter what I do, it’s always wrong.

  “Can you turn around and look at me please?” he asks.

  “You are the most immature, despicable human being I have ever met,” I say in a choked voice. “You don’t treat people with respect, or maybe you do, but never me. You treated Butch like shit and all he was doing was the job you assigned to him. I don’t know where you go during the day, or why you can’t be here, but it’s irrelevant at this point.” I sniff and wipe my eyes roughly with the back of my sleeves. “And don’t for one instant think I’m crying because of you. I’m not sad or emotional. I’m just done with this bullshit.”

  I hear Lars draw a deep breath and take a step in my direction. I twist around to face him and hold out a hand. “I think you’ve done enough damage here.”

  For a brief second, so quickly it feels as if I’ve imagined it, something that looks like hurt flashes in his eyes. Then it’s gone. “I’m sorry I made you cry. I swear it wasn’t intentional. I’ll teach you to ride Thunder if that’s what you want.” He sounds utterly defeated.

  His tone breaks my heart and instantly, I forget my own anger and hurt and just want to comfort him. Unable to look away from him, I take an instinctive step forward.

  “Once I do that, you don’t have to see me again,” he says bitterly.

  My outstretched hand flies to my burning chest. I was just about to embarrass myself. I should keep away from this guy. “I think I can learn to ride Thunder on my own. You won’t be able to come near him, anyway,” I say sadly. The sooner I accept this man is not for me, the better.

  “At least let me stay and make sure you’re okay. I can’t have you getting hurt,” Lars says, taking another step back. “You won’t even know I’m here.” His beautiful eyes drop to the ground, then rise again to meet mine a moment later, dimmer than before. He takes off his hat and holds it in front of him. A shock of silky dark hair falls on his forehead. My fingers itch to sweep it back.

  But I blew my chances with him the same way he blew his with me. I’m ashamed of the way I’ve been acting, but I had to act like that. I know he was only responding to my rudeness, because I can see the heart hidden beneath his harsh exterior and insufferable arrogance. He’s a great man—even if he hasn’t acted like one toward me. I wish things could have been different. Maybe—just maybe—we could have worked something out. But now it’s too late.

  “All right,” I say.

  He nods and, turning around, walks away.

  Chapter 24

  Cass

  I tried to avoid leaving the ranch, but it becomes inevitable when I run out of what Emma Jean calls ‘feminine items’. When I tell Ms. Moore, she asks me to go get my hair done at the local hairdresser as that is what Tamara would do. To my surprise, she takes the time to book an appointment for me and calls me back to confirm it.

  The town is about half an hour’s drive away. It is supposed to be tiny, with a population of about three thousand, but I cringe at the thought that someone might recognize Tamara and I’ll have to put on another show. It takes me almost an hour to put on my make-up, do my hair, and get into a sundress.

  Chance, one of the ranchers, has been designated as my driver, and he is sitting on the hood of a rusty red truck, idly chewing a stalk of grass while gazing out at the horizon. When I come out of the house, he whips his head around as fast as a snake and lets his eyes run down my body like water. As I come down the stairs, he whistles low and long.

  “I could squat with my spurs on for a sweetheart like you,” he says with a grin that is big enough to split his face.

  I just laugh. Chance is harmless, and I like him a lot, even though I can just about make out half of what he says. Born and bred in Montana, he uses a lot of slang. Someone from Washington is an apple picker. A four-wheel drive is a 4-dig, a horse is a hay burner, sheep are prairie maggots, children are curtain crawlers, a woman’s breasts are northern curves, and goodbye is nice speakin’ atcha.

  He rushes to open the passenger door, and I climb into it as gracefully as I can, considering the truck sits on huge tires and is at least three feet from the ground. As Chance drives me down the road, he tells me about the ranch, the countryside, and the Montana way of life.

  I keep interrupting him for translations into English, but overall, he is a mine of information and I absorb it all eagerly. As we come into a town, I start looking around me with wonder. It’s like a beautifully preserved time capsule of a forgotten way of life. The main street is a road that runs through two rows of red brick buildings facing each other. There are Mom and Pop stores, a chain dollar store, a gas station that doubles as a restaurant, and a drinking saloon. />
  “Talk about small,” I murmur.

  “Heck, this town is so small I went out on a blind date once and found a long-lost cousin,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

  Chance parks the car in front of a store that says Shoes and More and jerks his chin toward a shop a few doors down the street. “Your hair salon is over there and the grocery store is across the street. I’ll be in Steadman’s.” He points to a hardware store. “Come over when you’re done.”

  I check my pocket to be sure I have my phone.

  “You won’t need that. No cellphone signal, anywhere, anytime, ever.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nods solemnly.

  There are people passing the truck and they look in curiously. Dear God, this is what hell must be like. Maybe if I keep my face covered and head down, I might be able to avoid detection. I turn back to Chance. “Mind if I borrow your hat? I don’t want to get caught in a stampede of fans.”

  Chance laughs and nods. “You know, you’re really not as bad as folks described ya.”

  “Remember what Emma Jean says. Never miss a chance to shut up,” I say, plucking his hat from his head and jamming it on my head before jumping to the ground.

  “Doggone it, I’ve been digging for water under an outhouse, haven’t I?” he says with a good-natured laugh.

  I grin back. “Stop when you smell the shit.”

  He laughs as I close the door. I adjust my purse on my shoulder and walk confidently to the hair salon. Teri Ann’s is done up in shades of pink inside and completely deserted. A woman with permed auburn hair sashays over to me. She has big, inquisitive eyes, but she quickly gives up trying to engage me in conversation when I pick up a magazine and pretend to be completely engrossed in it. When she switches off the hairdryer, I look up at the mirror. She has done a good job and my hair looks surprisingly glamorous. When I go to the little counter to pay her, she tells me the appointment has been prepaid for. I walk out without paying a dime. Having money appear out of thin air is wonderful. If only I could do that in Chicago.

  I walk across the street and pull a shopping cart from the pile by the entrance. Ms. Moore told me Tamara will be paying for everything and I intend to take full advantage. She deserves it for insisting on waking me up at two or three in the morning and giving me grief every single time she calls.

  It takes only a while for me to fill the entire cart. I buy stuff for Emma Jean, Butch, Chance, and a few of the other guys, and a whole bunch of junk food for me. Once my cart is full, I go through the checkout. One by one, the cashier, a very pretty but unfriendly creature, bags all the junk food and hygiene items before hitting a few buttons and looking up at me with a bored expression. “That’ll be three hundred and seven dollars and thirty-nine cents.”

  I reach for my bag and feel the sides before looking over the brim of my hat at the cashier. Oh, shit! My cheeks feel like they are on fire. I didn’t put the credit card Ms. Moore gave me into my purse. It is still in the pocket of my suitcase. How the hell did I do that? I look up and the woman is looking at me with a disgusted expression. As if I’m deliberately trying to cheat her or something.

  “I—uh.” I try to think of anything to say to make this less awkward, but I draw a blank. “Look, I’m with Chance. He’s in Steadman’s. If you just put my stuff to one side and wait a few minutes, I’ll go get him.”

  She glares at me. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

  The way she is looking at me is as if I’ve been featured on America’s Most Wanted. I shake my head. “Just forget it. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

  “Yeah, and who’s going to put all the stuff back on the shelves?” She looks mad at the thought that she’ll have to do it.

  I guess I can’t blame her, but if she had only let me go get Chance she would have sold three hundred bucks worth of groceries and I wouldn’t feel like a piece of excrement. “Don’t worry. I’ll put the groceries back myself,” I offer.

  She puts her hands on her hips. “So you can steal some items while you’re at it?”

  I stare at her in shock. Did she just accuse me of being a thief?

  “Go on, git,” she orders rudely.

  My face burns with embarrassment.

  “Vicky,” I hear a deep voice say from a few feet behind me. I recognize the voice almost immediately and realize that the situation really can’t get much worse. I am so mortified I can’t even bring myself to turn around and see his gloating expression.

  “Oh, Lars,” the cashier simpers, her demeanor changing so fast it’s enough to give you whiplash. “What can I do for you?” She shakes her hair even more dramatically than Tamara Honeywell could. Twirling a lock around her finger, she gazes up at Lars with wide, doe eyes. I can’t decide if I want to puke or go across the counter and show her why it’s important to be kind to everyone, not just drop dead gorgeous people of the opposite sex.

  “What was the total again?” he asks tightly as he slides a card across the counter.

  Her eyes widen with shock then fill with jealousy. “What? You…you want to pay for her?” she stutters, throwing me such a venomous look I nearly laugh at her bewildered expression. I wonder if she and Lars have history. Sure feels like it. The thought makes my insides twist suddenly. My hands clench so hard my nails bite into my flesh. I can’t believe it. I’m jealous!

  “Looks like it, doesn’t it?” he says coolly.

  “You know her?” she asks as if she can’t believe.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” Lars replies.

  Vicky glares at him in a way that would send chills down a lesser man’s spine. “You’re right. It’s not important to me,” she snarls, as she swipes his card.

  I know that I’m missing something between them, so I take a step back as Lars signs his slip. Silently, he helps me fill the shopping cart with my bags.

  “Say hello to your mother,” he says as he pushes the cart out of the store. I follow closely behind.

  “Well, that was awkward,” I say as soon as we are on the sidewalk

  He spares me an impatient glance.

  “Where is Chance?” I ask, looking around and not seeing his pickup.

  “I sent him back,” he replies shortly.

  “Oh. Why?”

  “Get in,” he orders as we approach his flat-bed truck. “We need to talk.”

  “Do we?” I ask doubtfully.

  Chapter 25

  Cass

  We’ve been kind of avoiding each other since our conversation two days ago. Anyway, Lars has hardly been around at the ranch and I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s better that way. We pull ourselves into the truck and sit side by side. Just being in the same space with him is doing things to my insides, and I wring my calloused fingers. They used to be soft, but I’m fine with them being rough, since I prefer my new stronger, firmer body.

  “Take that damned hat off,” he says irritably.

  Confused, I take Chance’s hat off and place in the space between us.

  “What were you doing buying groceries?” he asks. “You have someone who does that for you.”

  I shrug casually. “I needed some personal items.”

  “Chunky monkey ice cream is not a personal item,” he says dryly.

  “Stop, stop, if I laugh any harder I’ll rupture my kidneys,” I retort sarcastically.

  He takes the sales receipt out of his pocket and quickly runs his gaze down it. “You bought three hundred dollars’ worth of junk food, Tamara.”

  “Okay, I might have gone a little overboard, but I deserve it. I’ve had a rough eleven days.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry that the princess had to work for the last eleven days. It must have been such a foreign concept to you.”

  I scowl and turn to face him. “Oh, for God’s sake, change the freaking record. Stop patronizing me all the time. I thought we got past this the last time. I’ve had it up to here,” I wave my hand over my head, “with you. Why am I on y
our shit list now? I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “You put yourself on my shit list by acting like an entitled bitch. Who goes to the grocery store and spends hundreds of dollars on snack food?”

  “I don’t know why you came to my rescue. Let me tell you, I would much rather have put back all the groceries than have to watch the checkout girl fawn all over you or listen to your arrogant crap.”

  “You are wasteful and have no concept of money or hard work,” he snarls.

  My face is flushed and I have trouble finding words to adequately describe how angry and frustrated I am. “I don’t know who you think you are? I can buy myself whatever I please with my own money.”

  He raises his eyebrows.

  “I forgot to take my credit card, but—”

  “—Figures,” he says so knowingly I want to slap his smug face.

  “I’ll make sure to pay you back,” I continue as if he had not said anything. “And while we’re at it, I probably have a better concept of money than you. And another thing. Do not call me a bitch ever again or I’ll tell my father.”

  His eyebrows rise. “Go ahead. Call your father. Tell him,” he challenges.

  He turns that sword back on me. I swallow hard. “I would, but there’s no reception in this damned town.”

  “Right, let me get you back to the ranch where there will be plenty of reception.” He starts the engine and the pickup roars onto the street

  I chew my lip. Oh, hell. What have I gotten myself into now? There’s no way I’m going to be talking to Tamara’s dad. I sit stewing for about ten minutes, until the better part of my anger cools. Surreptitiously, I sneak a look at him. His face is a dark mask of rage. I decide to swallow my pride and sort this out before I end up blowing everything. I clear my throat. “Are we going to keep fighting just because you like the idea of hating me? Because I don’t hate you, and I am trying hard to see your good points. In fact, I was beginning to think you’re a decent person. Apparently, I was wrong.”