Finding Promise (12 page)

Jake turned his horse around, and amazingly, two of the warriors rode peacefully beside him, back toward the men with their rifles pointed directly at them. Separating three steers from the herd, Jake said a few more words to the warriors before they rode away with the steers in tow. The men kept their eyes on the departing Indians, but Promise's eyes were on Jake as he made his way back across the river.

When he stopped in front of them, she searched his face for any sign of fear, but saw nothing other than his familiar determined expression.

“Comanche?” Cole asked.

“Yeah.”

“What was all that jabbering about?”

“Their people are starving. We made a trade,” Jake answered calmly.

“Free passage for three steers?” Cole asked.

“Something like that. Let's get these horses across. The current is getting worse.” What he left unsaid was what the braves had really wanted, and they weren't happy they did not get their way.

Cole knew Jake didn't want to discuss the situation with the Comanche braves. He also noticed Jake scanning the area behind them.

Jake tried to keep his concern from showing. The braves had told him they saw the white men following them, and they were the same men who attacked the wagon train and killed everyone but Promise. They said Promise shot two of the killers, but she hadn't killed them. When the killers spotted the Indians, they rode away. The Indians were going to make sure no one was left alive that day, but they saw Jake and feared he wasn't alone. When they saw Jake ride away with Promise, they knew she was still alive. Jake figured the only reason they hadn't attacked them was they were outnumbered. What he couldn't tell Cole in front of Promise was that the leader demanded he turn the woman with the “sun hair” over to him. When Jake refused, the brave became angry, and Jake fully anticipated a challenge. Jake wasn't a man to tell a lie, but he'd told the brave that he'd made Promise his woman, and he didn't share. He offered three steers in lieu of Promise, and demanded their word they wouldn't attack or steal more cattle. They were appeased for the moment, but Jake had a feeling the lead brave wasn't going to take no for an answer when it came to Promise.

Chapter Thirteen

It looked like they were going to get the horses across the river without incident, but then one horse started losing the battle against the rapid current. The horse slammed into Promise's horse, causing Prince to panic. Struggling to stay in the saddle, Promise gripped the saddle horn, trying desperately to keep her seat until Prince calmed. Jake was closest to her, and quickly moved Preacher against the panicked horse and easily plucked her from the saddle. After settling her in front of him, he said, “Hold on to the reins.” When she had control of his horse, Jake slipped out of the saddle and swam to Prince. Once he managed to get in the saddle, he was able to get the frightened horse under control before he could be swept downstream. Within minutes, they all made it across the river without injury or loss.

After the incident with the Comanche, Jake was tempted to continue a few more miles, but everyone was so exhausted he decided it was best to camp where they were. He figured this was as good a place as any to confront the braves if they came back for Promise.

While everyone was making preparations for the night, Jake walked to the cook's wagon and told Shorty to give him a bottle of whiskey. When Shorty handed him a bottle, he added, “Grab a few bottles so every man can have a full cup with their dinner tonight. They've earned it.” A little whiskey could also go a long way to keep the men happy after such a harrowing day. He grabbed three cups before leading Preacher and Prince to the makeshift corral Ty was constructing. Cole and Rodriguez were unsaddling their horses, and Jake poured a good portion of whiskey for them.

After Cole took a long swig, he asked Jake, “What was all the head shaking about when you were talking to those Comanche?”

“They wanted Promise.”

“I sort of figured that's what they had in mind, with all that blond hair of hers. That's why you kept insisting she wear a hat?”

“One of the reasons,” Jake admitted.

“They got a raw deal accepting three steers instead of holding out for her,” Cole mused.

“
Sí
, I'm surprised they gave up so easily,” Rodriguez added.

“I'm not so sure they have. I tried to convince them that she belonged to me.” Jake's eyes automatically shifted to Promise leaning over to stir something in a pot. She was still wearing the hat and holster.

Cole followed the direction of Jake's gaze. “Your woman, huh?”

Jake glanced at Cole and saw his eyes were on Promise. “Yeah, it seemed like the thing to say at the time. But I don't think it makes much of a difference to them. The lead warrior wanted her for himself. I have a feeling we'll see them again.”

“You speak Comanche?” Rodriguez asked.

“Very little, but they spoke some English, some Spanish. We managed to muddle through. They've seen the killers on our tail.”

“Not surprising,” Cole stated.

“Why do you think they are waiting?” Rodriguez asked.

“They're like most cowards, they'll wait until everything is in their favor.” Thinking about what Promise told him about a big man holding her down, Jake added, “They won't confront men with guns who can fight back.”

“They want to catch us spread out, like the last time, or maybe they'll do something to distract us,” Cole added.

“That's the way I see it,” Jake confirmed. “We need to keep alert and our minds on business.”

Cole wondered if he was really saying
he
should keep his mind off Promise. If that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black, he didn't know what was. Using his better judgment, he left what was on his mind unsaid. He was having a difficult time understanding his friend. Jake said he wasn't interested in Promise, and he'd even assigned Cole to watch after her. But half the time Jake looked like he wanted to strangle him when he was near her.

“Too bad the Indians didn't go after the killers and save us the trouble,” Rodriguez said.

Jake nodded. “Yeah.”

After dinner, Jake took another bottle of whiskey and before he questioned what he was about to do, he walked directly to Promise's wagon. Shorty had told him she was in a dither about something and indicated she would feel more comfortable talking to Jake. He hadn't planned on going inside that wagon again. Though he'd almost come to accept the fact that he had little self-control when it came to her. As he tapped on the wagon, he reminded himself he was stronger than his desires. “Can I come in?”

Stunned to hear Jake's voice, Promise opened the flap and smiled. “Certainly.”

He held up the whiskey bottle and two cups as he stepped into the wagon. “I thought you might like a nightcap to help you sleep tonight. It's been a long day, and sometimes it's difficult to settle down after such an experience.”

He eyed her as he sat on the pallet and poured her a cupful. When he held it out to her he noticed she'd changed and was wearing a nightgown and robe. And she sure smelled good. He'd already had more whiskey than he'd had in months, but he filled himself another cup. “Have you ever had whiskey?”

“I couldn't say, but I would doubt it,” she replied, taking a seat across from him. She wondered if he meant it was difficult to settle down after crossing a river, or watching him face down eight braves.

“Go slow. I wouldn't want a drunken woman on my hands.” He clinked her cup with his and said, “A safe trip the rest of the way.”

“A safe trip,” she repeated as she stared into his black eyes. As soon as she took a small sip she started coughing. “That's awful!”

Laughing, Jake said, “You have to develop a taste.”

His eyes looked bloodshot and she wondered if he'd already had too much of the liquid fire. “How many cups have you had?”

He chuckled, thinking that might be the reason he was sitting here against his better judgment since he was already feeling the effects of the alcohol. Whiskey brave. “I'm not drunk, if that's what you're thinking.”

He might not be drunk, but she wondered why he was in her wagon when he had avoided her for days. She swirled the contents in the cup, trying to find something to say other than what she was thinking. Each time she looked at him all she could think about was the kiss they'd shared, and his bare chest, and how it felt when she touched his muscles.

“Something on your mind?”

“Shorty said that your lead steer was shot.” That question was one of the many things troubling her. “He said that it was the most valuable one.”

“Yeah, he was.”

“Why is it called the Judas steer?”

“Because he will lead the cattle to slaughter.”

She nodded, and raised the cup to her lips again. This time she didn't cough. Jake might be right, it didn't taste too bad this time. “I know you won't understand, but I want to replace that steer.”

Jake looked at her a long moment before he spoke. No wonder she looked so tired; she was carrying a lot of weight on those small shoulders. She was feeling guilty about everything that had happened. “There's no need. We'll lose more cattle before we get to where we're going.”

“What will you do for a lead steer?”

“Another one will take the lead,” he said simply. “Now finish your whiskey so you can get some rest tonight. No arguments.”

Slowly she continued to sip her whiskey and was amazed at how quickly she felt the effects. A feeling of warmth came over her, and her mind started to relax. She stared at Jake, thinking he was so handsome he took her breath away.

Jake watched as the whiskey worked its magic. Just as he expected, a good stiff drink would keep her from thinking of her troubles for a while.

Once she finished the whiskey, she set the cup aside and stretched out on her pallet. She looked at him with those large amber eyes. “Are you married, Mr. McBride?”

No question, she was feeling the effects of the alcohol. Her cheeks had a nice rosy glow, and she looked more relaxed than he'd ever seen her. “No, ma'am.”

His deep warm voice soothed her more than the whiskey. “Have you ever been married?”

“No, ma'am.”

She leaned up on her elbow and gave him a quizzical look. “Haven't you ever wanted to marry?”

Her question made him think of his brother and his new wife. He couldn't say he'd ever thought of settling down before he'd seen the kind of relationship Colt and Victoria shared. The love between them was palpable, and it stirred something inside of him. He knew he wanted to feel that kind of love for a woman. Hopefully, with a woman like Victoria. And the thought of his new nephews made him smile. He'd never seen two more active boys in his life, and so full of questions. In the short time he'd spent with them, they'd given him grief every time he said
hell's bells,
as was his habit. They told him their ma would wash his mouth out with soap. “Being a U.S. Marshal isn't a life for a married man. I didn't spend too much time in one place.”

“And now you plan to stay in Wyoming?”

He watched her struggle to keep her eyes open. “That's my plan.”

“And you're not a marshal now,” she whispered.

“No, I'm not a marshal.” He thought he might have some regrets when he gave up his job, but he didn't. In all truth, he couldn't wait to get home to Wyoming and start ranching with his brother. Before he left Wyoming he picked out the spot where he would build his home. Colt had told him he could share his home, but he figured his brother needed privacy with his wife and adopted sons. Someday, if he was as lucky as his brother, he'd fill his new home with sons and daughters, but that day was a long way off. It'd be a while before he was ready to settle down. He glanced at Promise to see why she had quit asking questions. She'd drifted off to sleep with a smile on her face, looking like an angel.

 

 

The days were long, and the men were getting testy waiting for something to happen. Jake was more wary than ever. There were too many reasons for those killers to want to get to Promise, and he knew they weren't finished. Every day he reminded the men not to be complacent even though there was no visible threat. After two weeks of calm, it came as a surprise when Shorty spotted three men riding into camp.

Cole had just returned to camp for his dinner when Shorty handed him a plate and asked, “You see them hombres riding in?”

“Yep, I see them. Tell Promise to stay in the wagon. I'm sure Jake will be coming in soon.”

“I don't know about that. That dang fool is working himself into an early grave,” Shorty groused.

Rodriguez walked up behind them. Overhearing their conversation, he said, “The señor is aware of those men.” He'd seen Jake at the corral and when they'd spotted the men riding in, Jake told Rodriguez to stay near the camp.

Cole didn't know if Rodriguez was expressing an opinion, or if he knew for sure Jake was on his way, but he didn't have time to ask. “Let them do the talking. Shorty, stay close to Promise's wagon, and post Will at the back.” Will wasn't the best with a pistol, but not many men were in camp, so he had to use what was available. He noticed Rodriguez positioned himself nearby with his rifle next to him.

The three men stopped several yards short of the fire. “Mind if we come in for some coffee?” one of the men asked.

“Come ahead,” Cole responded easily. He noted their appearance: dusty, and their boots were caked with mud as though they'd been out in the elements for a while.

The men dismounted, tied their horses to some brush, and walked into camp. “That coffee sure smells good,” one of them said.

“Pour yourselves some,” Cole told them, pointing to the cups Shorty had placed on the rocks around the fire.

Rodriguez noticed the men didn't care for their horses before they helped themselves to the coffee. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jake approach their mounts and examine each one.

“We ran out of coffee a few days back,” one of the men said.

“We make sure we always have plenty,” Cole replied. “Been on the trail long?”

“Yeah, we're headed to Denver.”

“From?” Cole asked pointedly.

“Wherever we could find work,” one man responded evasively.

The men tried to disguise their interest in their surroundings, but Cole watched them surveying the camp. It seemed to him their eyes lingered overlong on the wagons. He glanced at Promise's wagon and saw that the light was very low and he couldn't see her inside, so he breathed a bit easier.

“Planning on working in Denver?” Cole asked in a conversational tone.

“Yeah, we're going to work for Schott's outfit,” the man answered. “You headed to Denver?”