Promise Me (11 page)

Amanda adjusted her lace cuffs and avoided eye contact with Harriet. “Sort of. I mentioned that he would be the best choice to provide protection from the men who have been making threats against me.” She raised her gaze to the ceiling, trying to look innocent. “I simply need to convince him he's perfect for the job.”

Harriet started to clear the dishes, shook her head, and snorted. “You'd best not count your chickens before you talk to him about it. Sam ain't the kind of man who welcomes anyone makin' decisions for him. He's strong-willed, and it takes a tender hand with his sort.”

Amanda winked at her friend. “I've used all the tender persuasion I can muster. Now I'll try to appeal to his heroic side.”

“Good luck, but don't be too disappointed if he refuses to move. Sam likes his freedom to come and go. Movin' in here to take care of you could look like the first step to gettin' hitched, and he's one fella who doesn't fancy the idea of bein' tied down.”

Amanda tossed her head. “I have no intention of ever tying myself to another man. Marriage is for women who think they need a man to make decisions for them.” She adjusted her hat and gave Harriet a confident smile. “I'm beginning to discover I like making my own decisions and taking care of myself. Most of the time, anyway.” She laughed and gave Harriet a sly look. “But, men do have their uses.”

Harriet's laughter trailed behind her as Amanda strode out onto the boardwalk. Several people nodded in greeting, and she realized she was becoming someone of importance in Willow Creek. The dry grocer stopped sweeping the front stoop of his store to inquire about her day. Amanda smiled at the good nature of these folks.

Apparently, not everyone was opposed to her efforts to improve the town and the plight of the miners. Good, honest people welcomed her. She couldn't give up because a small, ugly contingent didn't approve of her benevolence. After all, didn't the Bible bless her for seeking to care for the poor and the forgotten? She needed to remember that, in her good works, she served the Lord.

Lifting her nose proudly, she tried to ignore a rough element hanging out in front of the saloon. Several men lounged against the wall in chairs. She stepped around them and kept her eyes focused forward.

“Well boys, take a gander at this. A real, honest- to-goodness lady.” One of the men leaned his chair forward and stood up, blocking her way. She straightened her shoulders and refused to look away, even though her stomach lurched.

“I would appreciate it if you would allow me to pass.” Her voice squeaked, and her cheeks heated.

The man bowed, but when he raised his head, an evil glint flashed in his eye. “The cost to pass is just one lil' kiss.”

Amanda raised herself up to her full height, which put the top of her head at the level of his chin. “How dare you suggest such a thing? Can't you see I'm recently widowed? Please, just let me pass.” Amanda tried to brush past him, but one thick-fingered hand stretched out to grasp her upper arm. She fought the urge to scream and pound her fists against him.

“From what I hear, pretty young widows can be real fond of kissin'”. He pulled her toward him as she struggled to escape the unwanted embrace.

“Unhand Mrs. Wainwright, or I'll deposit a bullet in that space beneath your ribs where your heart should be.”

Amanda whipped her head about to find Robert Holcomb staring down the men accosting her. She dropped to her knees and relief washed over her.

The ruffian released his hold and stepped back. His eyes measured Robert, the man who helped Harriet out around the hotel. He tipped his hat at Amanda.

“Beggin' your pardon, ma'am. Guess seein' such a pretty lady walking down the street dulled my good sense.” He sat back down with the other men and allowed her to pass.

The other men teased her tormentor as she continued down the street.

“Thank you, Mr. Holcomb.” She smiled up at him.

He bowed to her. “Please, call me Robert. I'm glad I could be of assistance.” He offered her his arm. “Would you allow me to escort you to your destination?”

Amanda nodded. “I would appreciate your company. I didn't realize I might be troubled by the tough element in this town.”

Robert nodded. “Willow Creek is a bit rough around the edges, and all sorts of folks wander in here. You might want to have an escort when you're walking about town.”

They arrived in front of the Calhoun Lumber Company and Robert backed away, lifting his hat.

Amanda breathed deeply, inhaling the fresh, clean smell of pine. She heard the sharp whine of saws cutting trees into board lengths. From all appearances, Sam operated a profitable business. Workers bustled about, loading lumber onto wagons.

Arthur had indulged her interest in business by teaching her the intricacies of commerce. It had amused him to solicit her opinions, and he'd even confessed to instituting some of her suggestions. Of course, he'd never admitted to anyone that she had originated them. She opened the door to the offices and walked in with as much confidence as she could muster. Sam probably would not appreciate her coming to his office to speak with him. But she'd created the perfect ruse, and she didn't think he'd cause a fuss in front of his employees.

A young man in a threadbare jacket stood up from his desk and nodded at her. “May I help you, ma'am?”

Amanda stepped forward to thrust one gloved hand toward him. “I need to speak to Mr. Calhoun regarding a lumber purchase. Could you announce that Mrs. Wainwright is here to see him?”

The young man swallowed, a flush rising from his shirt collar to his forehead. He twisted his head to frown at the closed door, then turned back to awkwardly extend his own hand.

“He's got, um, some business associates with him right now, ma'am. Would you care to wait?”

Amanda looked around, but didn't see an extra chair. She tried to make her smile friendly.

“I can wait, but would it be possible for you to find me a place to sit?” She leaned forward and gave him another playful smile. “I confess, these boots are new and they give my big toe a terrible cramp.”

The young man stumbled back, then grabbed his own chair and brought it forward. She gathered her skirts and settled onto the oak surface with an air she hoped suggested she wandered into lumber offices every day to conduct business.

“Do you think the wait will be long, Mister...” She waited for him to fill in the blank.

He blushed again and hung his head. “Walter Abbott, ma'am.” He lifted his gaze from studying the floor and gave her a boyish grin. “I'm real pleased to meet you. My pa's one of the Wainwright miners, and well, we all, I mean my whole family and all, we appreciate the things you're doin'. My ma says you're a real fine Christian woman.”

Amanda nodded. “Thank you, and tell your mother I look forward to meeting her.”

Walter Abbott puckered his brow. “But, ma'am, Ma ain't the type to go to fancy socials or tea parties and such. It ain't likely the two of you will be meetin' up.”

Amanda considered his statement. This very thing had been bothering her for days. She would see the miners at the association if they needed something, but there was so much more she needed to do. She must meet with some of the women to discover what they needed to make their lives better. “I would enjoy meeting your mother, Walter. But”—she lifted her eyes to plead with him—“I don't know how to get to know the wives of the miners.

Perhaps you could help me?”

Walter shifted his weight to his other leg and looked uncomfortable. “The rich women of this town just look down their noses at our kinda folks. They think they're better'n us. Fact is, Mr. Calhoun took a chance takin' me on.” He brushed at a lock of sandy- brown hair that had fallen into his eyes. “But he said I had potential. I didn't rightly know what that was, but he caught me stealin' boards to fix up our shack and instead of turnin' me in to the law, he gave me a chance to work for him.”

Walter straightened his shoulders. “I'm learnin' a trade. That means I don't have to live underground twelve hours every day. I'm proud to say I can read and write, and I'm right clever at cipherin'. Rich folks don't have no right to look down on me and my kin.”

Amanda stood and clapped her hands. “I absolutely agree with you, Walter. That's why I want to meet with the women. I need to talk with the wives and daughters of the miners. I want to make Willow Creek a better place for them to raise their families, and I need their help to do it.”

Walter blinked at her. “I can talk to my ma and see what she says. She's got some influence with the other women, ‘cause of Pa bein' a foreman and all.”

Amanda thrust her hand forward again. “It's a deal, thank you, Walter. And if she decides she would meet with me, tell her to come to the Benevolent Association, it's...”

She didn't finish because Walter was laughing. She pulled her hand back and frowned at him. “I'm sorry, ma'am, but everyone knows where you located the Miners' Association. Fact is, most of the womenfolk in town have been curious to see the inside of that parlor house for years. That alone should be enough to bring ‘em callin'.”

Amanda laughed with Walter until they were interrupted by the bang of a door being thrown open. Sam's voice bellowed as several older men exited his office.

“I said the deal is off. I can't be expected to do something that goes against my own conscience.”

One of the men turned back toward Sam and shook a fist. “You led us to believe you didn't have a damned conscience, Calhoun. There ain't no going back on a deal once it's made.”

All three older men stopped suddenly when they discovered she was sitting in the outer office. They glared at her with angry eyes and such malevolent expressions of dislike that she cringed. Without another word, they donned their hats and marched out into the street.

Sam started to stomp out after them, but came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of her. Amanda?” He glanced toward the outer door, seemed about to say something, then shook his head.

He clenched his fists, heaved a deep sigh, and turned to her. “How long have you been here?”

She bestowed her sweetest, warmest smile upon him. “Only a few minutes, and this nice young man, your clerk...”

“Walter,” the young man mumbled, as if she were so dense she couldn't remember his name.

“Walter”—she made her voice cheerful despite a sinking sensation in her belly—“has been kind enough to help me solve a little problem I've been having.”

Sam's mouth twisted in a grim smile. “You came over here to see Walter?”

Amanda's confidence faltered at the harsh tone of his voice.

“No, that was just lucky happenstance.” She stepped toward him, curving her lips in the provocative manner that had made him melt in her arms earlier this morning. He didn't seem to notice as he leaned around her to slam the front door shut.

“Did you want something, then?”

Amanda was growing irritated. Instead of looking happy to see her, he looked annoyed. And he seemed distracted by his fierce encounter with the men who had just exited the building. It was clear a business deal had gone sour. Perhaps timing was everything, and hers couldn't be worse.

“I...wanted to discuss something with you, but perhaps it can wait.” She shifted her position and backed toward the door in an effort to beat a hasty retreat. His words stopped her.

“No point in wasting the trip. You might as well come in.” He held open the door to the inner office and she slowly made her way past him, berating herself for not planning this better. Manipulating an aroused, passionate Sam was one thing. Dealing with an angry, irritated one was quite another.

“Sit down.” He gestured to a chair before sliding down into his own at the large solid table covered with papers and maps. His fingers drummed against the oak surface while he waited for her to compose herself.

Butterflies flittering through her belly made her too nervous to sit still, and she wandered the room to study several large maps nailed to the wall.

“These are very interesting. What are all those areas outlined in red?” She pointed to several large tracts of land.

“Did you come here to discuss my leased land holdings, Amanda?”

She tried to hide her surprise and turned back to investigate the maps. “Are all those parcels yours, Sam?”

He picked up a glass pen and tapped it against the inkwell. “Yes. Or at least that's land I have options on. Now, does that satisfy your curiosity?” He tossed the pen on the blotter and sat back in his chair with his arms folded in front of him.

She moved to a large table covered with papers and tried to hide her nervousness by shuffling some of them. Instead they flew in several directions. “Oh my,” she muttered.

“Amanda.” His voice was sharp. “Sit down this minute and quit destroying my office.”

She tried to comply, but her skirt caught on a paperweight as she brushed past, and it nearly toppled to the floor before he caught it.