Jake looked properly put down. He hadn't intended to hurt her feelings. “I'm going to be busy when we get home.”
“She is not going to take care of you,” Colt reminded him. “But now that you mention it, it would probably be good to have her along while you are recovering.”
“I'm fine.”
Colt groaned, his temper getting the best of him. “No, you are not! We won't leave for a few days so you can gain some strength back, but you are definitely not okay.”
When Jake started to object, Colt held up his hand to silence him. “If you give me any grief, you can stay right here. I'll not have two people to worry about.” Colt jumped to his feet and paced the room. Then he stopped and looked at Jake. “Do you care about that gal?” He had a feeling his brother cared more than he wanted to admit. In his estimation, Promise was perfect for his brother. Why Jake was too hardheaded to recognize that fact, he didn't know.
Jake shook his head. “I like her fine. But if you're asking if I'm ready to settle down right now, the answer is no. I don't want her getting in the way at the ranch.”
“Getting in the way?”
“Yeah,” Jake mumbled.
Colt wasn't sure what he meant. “Can't you see it might solve some problems for everyone if she left Denver?”
“Yeah, I can. You don't really think those killers went to Mexico any more than I do.”
Colt couldn't argue with his assessment. “It's possible, but I think it's more likely they are hiding out.”
“That's what I thought.”
“If I leave Denver alone, and those men come back, you're in no condition to defend anyone,” Colt said reasonably, taking his seat by the bed again. He put his elbows on his thighs and leaned forward, leveling his gaze on his obstinate brother. “Are there any other reasons for your objections, other than the fact that she might not be able to resist your charming self?”
“She drives the men to distraction,” Jake admitted gloomily.
Colt laughed. “Are you jealous?”
Jake frowned. “No, I'm not jealous, just practical. They don't work as hard when she's around. You should have seen Cole and Rodriguez on the drive, not to mention Shorty. She had every one of them wrapped around her little finger.”
“Sounds like the green-eyed monster to me.”
Definitely Shakespeare
, Jake thought. “Well, it's not! I'm not interested in her that way. I want someone more like . . .” He paused, catching himself before he said
Victoria
.
Arching a brow at his brother, Colt finished his sentence. “Victoria?”
“You have to admit, your wife is as nearly perfect as any woman could be.”
“I do admit it, but Promise is much like Victoria,” Colt told him. When Jake didn't respond, he said, “I think Victoria would like her. Not to mention she would probably like having a woman near her age to visit with for a while.” He thought that would sway the argument in his favor.
Jake wasn't sure why he was arguing against this, since he had been planning to take Promise to the ranch before she regained her memory. Something had changed, but he didn't know what it was. He couldn't deny that she would be a big help to Victoria, and Victoria would enjoy her company. That would ease Colt's mind, and his brother deserved that. “You're right. It was nice of her to offer.”
Colt cocked his head at him as if to say
no kidding
. “How do you think the men acted when Victoria first came to the ranch? Every one of them was smitten. They thought of more reasons to come to the house than you could imagine.” He wasn't exaggerating, all of the men were at her beck and call.
“Okay, okay, you win. She can go with us,” Jake agreed. “I imagine she went to the stable to see Hero. When she comes back I'll tell her.”
Colt chuckled. “You mean,
if
she comes back?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next day, Colt escorted Promise to the sheriff's office in Denver, where she informed him of the murders on the wagon train, and casually mentioned she was going back home to South Carolina. Colt didn't figure the entire gang had left the area, but he didn't mention his concerns to Promise. They left the sheriff 's office and made a trip to the bank so Promise could deposit the bulk of her money. Colt sent Victoria another telegram to tell her he would be coming home soon.
When the time came for Promise to say good-bye to her aunt and uncle, she was filled with mixed emotions. To keep from changing her mind, she focused on the reasons she was leaving. She'd seen what these men were capable of doing, and she couldn't stay in Denver and risk her family being harmed. It was even more difficult since her aunt and uncle didn't want her to leave, but Jake assured them he would bring her back in the spring. And she was sure he meant to keep his word. She didn't know what made him change his mind about her going to Wyoming, but she had the feeling it had more to do with his concern over Victoria than actually wanting her there. She figured she would eventually learn to deal with his rebuff, but she couldn't deal with her family being harmed.
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“You've done nothing but complain for four days,” Strait said to Jake. Strait had been driving the wagon with Jake propped up in the back atop a mattress and a mountain of quilts, thanks to the generosity of Nettie.
“If you didn't hit every dang hole in the ground it might not be so bad,” Jake snapped.
“Believe me, I'm all for letting you ride. I'll do anything to shut you up!” Strait shouted, pulling the team to a halt. He bounded off the wagon seat, walked around to the back of the wagon where his horse was tied, freed the reins, and jumped on his back. He rode away fast before he did something stupid, like slug the boss's brother.
Colt helped Jake out of the wagon. “You might take it easy on Strait. He's one of the best cowboys on the ranch, and I don't want you running him off.”
“I'm sorry,” Jake replied sheepishly. “I can't take that wagon one more minute.”
Colt got a fire going a few feet from where Jake was sitting, and then he checked his bandage to make sure he hadn't opened any stitches. Satisfied with the way his brother was healing, he could give him hell and not feel guilty. It wasn't that he didn't have sympathy for Jake's situation; he'd been in the same position not too long ago when he'd been shot. It was difficult, not to mention demoralizing, for a man to feel like a helpless pup. He had a feeling there was something else on Jake's mind. Still, he wasn't going to allow him to take his temper out on the very people trying to help him. “You agreed to this. The doc said you shouldn't ride for at least another week, and you agreed, dammit. And you're damn sure going to live up to your end of the bargain.” He started to walk away, but stopped and turned back to him. “You even made me say bad words, after I've worked so hard to clean up my language for Victoria and the boys! Dammit! If you weren't my brother, I'd leave your sorry hide out here in the middle of nowhere. And don't even think you're going to get away with this when we get to the ranch, or I'll kick your ass.” He kicked dirt in the air as he walked away, angry at himself for his language. He jumped on Razor to ride after Strait and try to smooth his ruffled feathers.
If he'd been in a lighthearted mood, Jake might have laughed at his big burly brother using the term
bad words
. His nephews had them all watching their
bad words
. But his own foul temper kept him from seeing the humor in the situation. He figured dinner was going to be a quiet affair, now that he'd ticked off Strait and Colt. He'd already made Promise so mad she'd stopped talking to him two days ago. He couldn't really blame her, since he'd done nothing but complain when she'd been driving the wagon. He'd said the same thing to her that he said to Strait about hitting ruts. He'd even complained about her cooking, saying things he didn't really mean. Even though he knew he was in the wrong, he was so ill-tempered that he still hadn't apologized. Now, Strait and Colt probably wouldn't be talking to him for the next week.
Hell's bells!
It was that dang wagon, he told himself. He didn't know how people rode in those things, particularly clear across the country. He glanced over at Promise, who was pulling out supplies from the wagon to cook dinner. She'd ridden a long way in a wagon, he reminded himself. It shamed him all the more when he remembered what she'd been through, and he'd never heard her once complain.
He leaned back and pulled his hat over his eyes, not covering them all the way so he could keep an eye on her. Just to make sure she was safe, he told himself. Knowing he'd been acting like a jackass, he needed to figure out a way to apologize to her without actually admitting he was wrong. As much as he tried not to look, every time she bent over, his eyes traveled down to her rear end. She was back to wearing those split skirts, and that was driving him to distraction. If he wasn't mistaken, they weren't the same ones she'd worn before. She must have gotten them from her aunt. He was positive she only had one pair, and he hoped she'd worn them out. His thoughts went back to that morning in the wagon when he woke up with her on top of him and he'd kissed her. Lord help him, he didn't need to go there.
Promise prepared the food at the wagon and carried the pot to the fire, giving Jake a wide berth. He'd been in such ill humor that she was thankful she had Hero to ride so she could keep some distance between them. Unfortunately for Strait, he had to put up with Jake. She tried to be understanding of Jake's dark mood, but she couldn't help comparing it to the change in his attitude toward her. It was night and day from the way he'd treated her before they'd reached Denver. Once the stew started bubbling, she walked back to the wagon to prepare the corn bread.
Jake and Promise didn't exchange a word the entire time Colt and Strait were gone. They were gone longer than Jake expected, so he figured they were scouting the area before they came back to camp. Once they finally rode into camp and cared for their horses, they walked over to the wagon to talk with Promise. Jake could hear them laughing, but he couldn't quite make out what they were saying.
“Something sure smells good,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
His comment was met with silence.
The three walked to the fire, but no one glanced Jake's way. Colt took the pan of corn bread from Promise and placed it over the flame.
“Promise, do you know how to play poker?” Strait asked, carrying the coffeepot to the fire.
“Yes, my father taught me when I was young,” she replied. “My mother was furious when she caught us.” She smiled at the memory of her mother giving her father a proper dressing-down, saying a young girl shouldn't be taught such things. She remembered how her father had responded, as if he'd spoken the words only yesterday.
It might come in handy one day for my only daughter to know how to play a hand of poker.
“We can play after dinner if you'd like,” Colt said.
Anything that brought back memories of her father gave her comfort. “That would be lovely.”
“That will be a nice change,” Jake agreed. When no one acknowledged him, he added, “She's probably as good at poker as she is with everything else. She can shoot and ride as good as any man.” As magnanimous as he was, no one spared a glance in his direction, so he asked, “Is that stew about ready? It sure smells good.”
Colt, taking pity on his brother, leaned over and looked at the stew. “Looks good.”
“About the time the corn bread is ready, the stew will be done,” Promise commented without looking Jake's way.
When Promise walked back to the wagon for their plates, Jake found himself gazing at her rear end again.
Colt turned to his brother. “Have you apologized to her yet?”
“Not yet. I can't get a word in edgewise with you two hanging all over her.” He caught Strait staring at Promise's backside too.
“Don't start,” Colt warned, seeing the direction of his brother's eyes. “Why didn't you say something to her while we were gone? We took it slow coming back because I thought you would use the time wisely.”
Seeing Promise was walking toward them, Jake didn't respond.
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“Someone has a pile of matchsticks. I think you were holding out on us about how well you played,” Colt teased.
Promise was more surprised than anyone by her winning hands. Secretly, she wondered if they were letting her win in an effort to make amends for Jake's rude behavior. “Truly, I haven't played since I was a child.”
“She does everything well,” Jake said in another clumsy attempt to apologize without actually saying the words.
“I didn't think I could cook to suit,” Promise retorted, refusing to accept his compliment.
Jake looked contrite, and was sorry for his cantankerous attitude over the last few days, but he was at a loss how to ask for forgiveness. “You can cook fine,” he mumbled.
“High praise,” she responded tartly. “That's certainly not what you said a few days ago.”
She wasn't going to make this easy, Jake thought.
Colt, recognizing the signs of a woman in high dudgeon, stood and said, “I guess we'd best turn in. Strait, you want first watch?”
“I'll take it,” Jake said. “I've had so much coffee I won't sleep anyway.”
Colt nodded. “That'll work.” He figured his brother wanted to make another attempt to speak privately with Promise, so he glanced at Strait and inclined his head toward their horses. “We'll see to the horses before we turn in.”
Promise got to her feet. “I'll see to Hero.”
“I'll take care of him,” Colt replied.
Once they were out of earshot, Jake thought he'd set things straight. “I like your cooking fine.”
Promise started gathering the plates, but she turned to look at him. “I know you blame me for what happened.”
Jake held up his hand. “Stop right there. I don't blame you for a darn thing. I just can't stand being in that wagon all day. It's driving me crazy.”
Promise could appreciate how he felt, yet she was sure there was more going on than sheer frustration from riding in the wagon. The whole time on the trail he had made her feel safe and secure, but since he'd been shot, his attitude had been nothing but cool. She was distraught over the change in their relationship. Tears were welling up in her eyes, and she absolutely refused to let him see her cry. She turned away, saying, “I need to get some blankets.”
Jake sat alone, staring into the dying embers and wondering how everything could have gone so wrong.
“Did you apologize?” Colt asked when he returned with their bedrolls.
Jake wasn't really sure if she understood he was apologizing. “I tried.”
Colt plopped down on his bedroll and gave Jake an exasperated look. “Either you said you're sorry or you didn't. It's not that difficult.”
“I said that her cooking was fine,” Jake replied, as if that was a grand apology.
Strait snorted. “Colt, I didn't know your brother was such a dumb son-of-a-buck,” he said, shaking his head.
Colt looked at Jake in disbelief. “Neither did I.”
“Well, it was a dumb idea taking her to Wyoming anyway!” Jake said, trying to redirect the blame.
Colt and Strait stared at him, confused by his outburst.
Glaring back at them defiantly, Jake expounded on his reasoning. “She's led a pampered life. Hell, she's never had to help anyone out, and she had servants! Her clothes come from Paris, France.”
“Tell me how that pampered gal managed to get in the back of a wagon and travel two thousand miles if she's so fragile?” Colt ground out. He felt like knocking some sense into his brother's hard head.
“Yeah, and I bet she didn't whine like a little girl every five minutes,” Strait added.
Jake shut his mouth.
Promise returned with some blankets and gave one to each man. She spread her blanket near Colt, as far away from Jake as possible. “Good night,” she said.
Colt and Strait said good night and Jake, not one to give up, said, “That stew was real good.”
Colt gave Jake a look that said
stop digging that hole.
“Wake me in two hours, Jake.”