A Texan's Promise (23 page)

Without a word, their palms shifted and their fingers linked.Amazingly, she felt more calluses. Vanessa wondered if he felt the difference in her palm as well. She'd done her best to be useful while staying with Corrine, chipping in when she could.Vanessa was proud of her accomplishments, but now, feeling her skin rubbing against his, she wondered if he thought she was lacking in some way. If her rough hands made him long for the cosseted girl she used to be.

But then he eased her mind. "You're so lovely, Vanessa.Perfect." He paused. "Perfect for me." He blinked and tried to smile. "I just can't believe you're here in front of me in Nebraska. Not a dream."

A lump formed in her throat as tears pricked her eyes. "I couldn't stay away. With you is where I belong," she said, wishing the tears that were now falling could disappear. "I hate the thought of you sitting here suffering by yourself."

His expression softened. One hand snaked up and caressed her cheeks, wiping away moisture, sending a thrill through her body from just that simple touch. "Don't cry," he murmured."Honey, you know I never could stand your tears."

"I never could stand to see you hurt."

Humor lit his eyes. "Since when have you seen me hurt?"

"Since today." She blinked harder and tried to find some sauciness in her voice. "Since right this minute. And that's enough, Clayton."

He squeezed her hand. "So, you traveled all the way here alone?"

"I did." She lifted her chin. "I took the train from Denver to Cheyenne, then the stage from Cheyenne to here."

"It's a hard journey."

As she recalled the bumpy terrain and stifling heat, she nodded. "I will admit that I've been rattled enough to be a rattlesnake."

He chuckled, looked to say more. Instead, he said nothing.

Instead, he lifted his arms, captured her shoulders, pulled her down to him. Finally.

And kissed her. Brushing his lips against hers. Slowly, each touch full of tenderness and wanting. Exquisitely gentle, full of care. With each brush, she felt his love, his care. She felt treasured and valued and special.

And because it was everything she ever dreamed of, she fell apart and did start crying, right then and there. Months of built-up tears sprang forth, and she no longer had the willpower or the need to stop them.

He rubbed her back. "It's all right Van," he murmured."Everything's all right. Cry it out."

The tears kept flowing. "I missed you so much. I've been so worried," she blurted with a hiccup, right before she began crying even harder.

Clayton pushed back a wayward strand of hair from her face. "Hush now, sugar. It's going to be all right."

"I know," she sobbed. "I know it will be now."

She'd dreamed of this moment. Dreamed of being in the same room, of being in his arms, of feeling secure. Feeling wanted.

Yet her dreams didn't compare to the reality. Clayton brushed fleeting kisses across her brow, along her cheeks. Held her close and murmured sweet words. Those hands she knew so well caressed her face and massaged her back as if he was memorizing every touch.

As he held his wife in his arms, Clayton finally gave up fighting. Finally he allowed himself to realize that God's will had been done. Providence had guided her to him just when he was sure he couldn't take another moment alone.

A phrase from Deuteronomy flashed into his mind. And when she calmed, he wiped her eyes with two fingers and murmured, "He led you through the vast and dreadful desert, that thirsty and waterless land, with its venomous snakes and scorpions."

Vanessa nodded in understanding. "Yes. He did lead me here to you. He did lead us to finally be together. Oh, Clayton, I know God has been guiding us from the moment you arrived at the Circle Z. He's been with us all along."

Understanding dawned. "He's been there with us, even when we didn't know what we wanted. Even when we didn't know how to achieve our dreams."

"I think so."

Clayton took a moment to close his eyes, to just enjoy the feel of her in his arms. And because it couldn't wait anymore, he asked her the question that had been plaguing him for the last few weeks. "Are you doing better? Really?"

"I am."

"The dreams?"

"The dreams are better." She pressed a hand to the center of her chest, over her heart. "And inside, I finally feel healed."

Vanessa's lips were glistening from their kisses. Her hair was mussed from his fingertips. She looked beautiful as she scrambled off the bed, obviously unsure of how to react, of what to do next.

Clayton let her set the pace, knowing it was important to give them both time, though at the moment all he wanted to do was ask her to enter his arms once again.

With two quick strokes, she shook out her skirts, setting herself to rights. "I guess we should speak about other things.Is this where you live?"

Clayton sat up and tried to clear his muddled thoughts."No. Rhianna offered me a room to recuperate in. I sleep above the jail. The old wooden stairs in the building are narrow and rickety. They would've been a mite difficult to navigate."

"I imagine so." Looking worriedly at the door, Clayton was sure Vanessa was going to ask about the woman, or offer to feed him, or rush to the basin of water and wash her tearstained cheeks. But she did none of that. "I love you, Clayton.I really do."

He needed her love more than he could say. Her letters to him had been a soothing balm in his life of chaos. No longer could he pretend they hadn't meant the world to him. No longer could he pretend that he didn't need her, that a vow to her father was more binding than their marriage vows. Truth be told, he needed her. He needed her in every way, by his side, both night and day.

"I love you, too."

"Oh!" Her eyes softened, and his heart melted with her.

Tenderly, he brushed back a stray hair from her temple."Van, there's so many things we need to discuss."

"I know."

"So many things have happened. So many things I couldn't write in a letter."

"We have time for that now. I want to hear everything that's happened to you, Clayton."

He started talking. An hour passed, then two, as they sat together and tried to get caught up. It was nearly impossible, though, since long moments passed when all they could do was stare at each other and smile.

Later that afternoon, reality came back.

"Knock, knock," Rhianna said just a scant minute before opening the door. "Clayton, it's time to check your dressing again."

Vanessa stood up. "I'll tend to him now."

Rhianna chuckled. "Honey, I know you mean well, but I doubt you even know what to look for. Infection can set in a matter of hours. And then what would you do? Call me and hope and pray?"

Instead of backing down, Vanessa stepped forward, looking as outraged as a bantam rooster. "I would never underestimate the power of prayer." Turning to Clayton, she asked quietly, "Do you know how to check for infection?"

"I do." Unfortunately, he'd mended and tended to a fair share of men during the war. If he was familiar with anything after the years of fighting, it was cuts, sores, and their everlasting effects.

Vanessa turned to Rhianna. "Ma'am, if you would be so kind as to direct your help to bring up some warm water, I'd appreciate it."

Clayton didn't know whether to be proud or dumbfounded by his wife's cool tone and matter-of-fact ways. Where was the girl he'd nursed on the road to Lubbock? Where was the woman who had waited for him to do everything for her?

Rhianna, too, glanced at Vanessa with a new respect. "I'll have someone bring some warm water up right away."

"Thank you."

Rhianna looked to Clayton, but he didn't dare do a thing except dart a glance at his wife. He was right proud of her, and proud of her forbearance.

"Expect Joe to arrive in a few," Rhianna muttered before sashaying out the door.

Vanessa breathed deeply when she left. "Let me help you with your pillows. They look like they need to get fluffed."

"Yes, ma'am," Clayton said as he slowly leaned forward.Evidently, Vanessa wasn't in the mood to argue.

She up and did it," Price called out triumphantly. "Vanessa telegraphed the bank. Burl rode out and gave me the news this morning."

Miles's hand shook as he tethered Jericho to the hitching post, taking his time with the slipknot so he didn't have to meet his stepfather's gaze. But oh, how he wanted to show every emotion he was feeling at the moment! Surprise. Dismay.

Bone-crunching terror for his sister.

How could Vanessa have done something so foolhardy? Though months had passed, surely she didn't imagine that Price was just going to forget about her?

More to the point, even if he had, there was one thing everyone knew counted the most to Price Venture, and that was money. There was no way on God's green earth that Price was going to let her retrieve her funds without him putting up a fight.

As Miles turned his thoughts over again, a band of worry tightened in his chest. Something must have happened to Clayton. The man Miles knew was too responsible, too careful to have let Vanessa contact the bank. No one would have needed to spell it out for him that Burl Iverson would notify Price the moment they received word from his stepdaughter.Not only would Burl think that Price would be overjoyed to hear about her whereabouts, but Burl would be too afraid not to inform Price about that money.

Anyone who'd been on Price's bad side thought twice before being on it again. It just wasn't worth the pain and destruction the man was capable of.

What had happened to Clayton? Miles could only imagine the very worst. Clay was either dead or seriously injured.Those were the only explanations that made sense.

As the silence dragged on, Price got impatient. "Boy, you hear me?"

Taking pains to keep his expression impassive, Miles turned away from Jericho's line. "I heard you, sir. What do you want to do?"

"Go get her, of course."

"Where is she? Does Burl know?"

"She sent the wire from Denver. Even was good enough to send a contact by the name of John Merritt. Seems Merritt has a sizable piece of land just south of Denver. Does that name ring a bell?"

"That's Clayton's old commanding officer. His sister Corrine married him, I believe."

"We'll need to go within the hour. We can make it past Camp Hope by nightfall if we push the horses hard enough."With a grin, Price added, "What a stroke of luck. It's a good thing we decided to cool our heels for a bit back here. Now both we and horses will be ready." Over his shoulder, Price lifted a finger. "One hour, boy. Be ready."

Miles was almost tempted to step aside and say he didn't want to go. He actually even thought that Price would let him stay behind. After all, their last bit of traveling had proved that neither found the other to be a particularly good traveling companion.

But Miles had grown up a lot in the last month. And, his Bible studies had made him be a better man.

He needed to accompany Price, if for no other reason than to help Vanessa when they all met. This time, instead of merely riding by his side and hoping to delay their trip, Miles planned to accompany his stepfather for one reason only, with the intent to protect Vanessa from harm.

He walked into the house, still taken aback about how vacant it seemed without either his mother or Vanessa.

Yes, the last month had been hard, indeed. Though Price made it sound as if he'd been reluctant to halt the search, Miles recalled just how long it had taken them to get home.Just east of the Texas border, Price had befriended a cattle rancher from Missouri and struck a friendship. The two of them had taken to gambling for high stakes late into the night more often than not.

When Miles had asked if he could go on back to the ranch, Price had refused the request, saying he would be needed if they ever did find Clayton and Vanessa. Since he'd had no choice, Miles used the extra hours to get better acquainted with the Bible, taking comfort time and a gain in the Scriptures and in Jesus' calls for patience time and again.

Once they arrived home, more bad news had awaited them. The Circle Z was in a sorry state. Fences needed mending; fields needed to be rotated. Even the house needed some repairs done, since a fierce dust storm had broken a variety of shutters and damaged the back porch.

The ranch hands had done their best, but with no one used to making decisions—and each having a healthy fear of being blamed for mistakes by Price—very little had gotten done.

Price had just ordered Miles to go to tell his mother they'd returned when Samuel, one of their long-time vaqueros, approached them the moment they rode to the barn and dismounted."I am sorry, Mr. Miles, but your mother died last week."

He felt as if he'd been struck with a poleax. "What? What happened?"

Samuel looked at the ground, completely ignoring Price."She took her own life, I'm afraid."

"Are you sure? How?" His voice broke off, unable to comprehend the news. With some surprise, Miles realized he felt ashamed as well. For quite some time, he'd taken his mother for granted. It had been easier to lay all the blame for his problems on her shoulders than to take responsibility for his own actions. "When?"

"It happened last Tuesday, Mr. Miles. Maria found her."

Price had gone livid. "What did she do to herself?"

As if he had trouble talking over his words, Samuel said, "It was a gunshot. She shot herself in the head. The doctor said she died instantly."

"You bury her yet?" Again, the question was coldly spoken, with no emotion behind the words, no feelings of loss evident.

For a brief instant, the true extent of Samuel's dislike for Price showed in his eyes, then he covered it. "Yes. In the family plot, next to Mr. Grant."

"She was my wife," Price said. "You shouldn't have buried her there. Besides, suicide is a sin."

Yes it was, but Miles knew in his heart that Price was guilty of so many others. "Samuel, you did fine. Thank you for burying her for me."

Samuel nodded his head in recognition. "You are most welcome, Mr. Miles. She, your mother, she was a good woman.We said a prayer for her as well."

"I appreciate that. She was a good woman," Miles said quietly.

Just as Samuel turned away, Price ordered him to stop. "She didn't leave a big mess, did she?"

"No, sir." With an apologetic look toward Miles, he added, "The men cleaned the house."

"Good."

Miles felt the biting sting of tears as he watched his stepfather walk away. Price's reaction to his mother's death was heartbreaking and expected. After all, he'd ruined his mother.He'd never been a husband to her. No, he'd only used what he could and bled her dry, taking her dignity, her money, and her land, and driving her daughter away. Never had he even pretended to love her.

Only while courting had he pretended to care about her at all.

Now, in the house once again, Miles walked the halls and remembered the good things about Marilyn Grant. How she'd giggle like a schoolgirl when his father would tell jokes. The way she'd always had time for each of them.

How she used to stand outside and look into the distance, waiting and hoping when their pa would be off on a cattle drive.

In her heart, she was a good woman. Though the act of praying was still new and made him feel unsure, Miles took the opportunity in his room to bend his head.

"Lord, please be with my mother. Please let her be with my father and with You. Let her feel Your love and forgiveness.Please let her know that I am going to miss her but that I understand why she did what she did. Some things are awfully hard to overcome. I hope she is at peace now. Amen."

Almost a month later, Miles rummaged in his room once again. This time, however, he knew in his heart he wasn't just leaving for a bit. No, this time he was leaving for good.After making sure Vanessa was fine, Miles was going to leave the memories of the Circle Z forever. He wanted no more bad experiences to taint the good memories he had of the large, once prosperous ranch.

It was time to shake off his childhood and step forward into his own path. He was finally ready to become his own man.

He packed clothes and handkerchiefs in his saddlebags, then took care to slide Jacob's Bible in there too. Only a few other items were stored. Looking around, Miles realized that there was nothing else in his room—in his life—that couldn't be replaced.

With slow steps, he walked down the stairs. Price was at the back door. "I'm just about ready."

"Me too. Remind me when we get back to visit with Burl again over at the bank. I need to see if there are any documents regarding the ranch. Since Marilyn's gone, the place is fair and square mine now."

There was a time when Miles probably would have fought that. Now it didn't matter. No, the Circle Z was not Price's. It was Miles and Vanessa's by birthright. But Miles wasn't willing to fight.

He'd rather be long gone and free than have the most luxurious lifestyle and be beholden to Price. "I'll remind you," he murmured.

Price nodded, grabbing some chewing tobacco and stuffed it into his own saddlebag. "I can't wait to get my hands on that girl. It's gonna take years for her to make up what she's put me through."

"I imagine so."

"And more important, no way in the world is she going to get one red cent of her family's money. Not one."

Miles didn't even try to point out that he too deserved the inheritance.

A gleam entered his stepfather's eye. "I'll find a way to get that money, boy, one way or another. Now, go saddle up the horses."

It was an order, and Miles had no inclination to disobey.It was time to find Vanessa and to take care of their future once and for all. With a surety he used to only imagine having, Miles knew two things. One, Price was going to get to Vanessa one way or another, so all Miles could do was accompany him.

The other was just as important to him. No matter what, Price would never touch Vanessa again. If Clayton couldn't protect her, he would.

"Miles, you coming?"

"I am," he said, pausing when he spied Samuel in the tack room. "Good-bye," he whispered. "I doubt I'll ever be back."

Just as quietly, Samuel murmured, "You going to take care of your stepfather?"

"No. I'm going to take care of Vanessa. And then I'm going to take care of myself."

With a look of understanding, Samuel nodded. "Then good-bye. And may God be with you, Mr. Grant." When Miles stared at him in confusion and surprise, a funny half smile formed at the corners of Samuel's lips. "You earned the title now,
si?"

"Yes. Thank you for your prayers."

Quickly, he checked Jericho, making sure his cinch was not too tight and the saddle was fastened correctly. After laying the bags down in front of him, Miles slid a boot in a stirrup and easily got in the saddle. "You ready, Jericho?"

The horse shifted impatiently.

Guiding his horse out to Price, Miles felt both excited and proud. And just a little bit nervous. Things were about to change.
Help me, Lord, Miles prayed. I will follow you.

For the first time, peace settled on his shoulders, comforting him like a warm blanket.

"I'm ready," Miles said.

"About time," Price fired back; but for the first time, there was little rancor in his voice. Then, they motioned the horses forward and left the ranch.

As Miles finally left everything behind him, he took comfort in a verse from Mark 10 that had spoken to him more than once when he was confused or frightened. "
Amen, I say to you. Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it."

Miles prayed with all his might. He had accepted God's presence in his life. Had become a child of the Lord.

And because of that, he knew he was following the right way. Miles would follow Price to Vanessa's side because that's where he needed to be. And after that, he would trust Jesus to lead the way.