Promise Me (18 page)

Amanda pulled her toward the dining room and waved her other hand. “Please don't worry about that, we can take all the time we need to get acquainted. I'm so hungry for female companionship, I could just cry sometimes.”

After uttering the words, Amanda realized the truth of the matter. For the past week, she'd been shutting herself in her room or trying to forget her troubles by working all of the time. She had brushed off Harriet's offers to talk, and refused any real conversation with Sam. She was lonely.

The women stood around the huge mahogany dining table and gawked at the furnishings in the room. Amanda was keenly aware of the bright red and gold flocked wallpaper, the gaudy beaded trim on the burgundy velvet drapes, and the overabundance of gilt. She was about to apologize for the state of the building when the woman she had escorted into the room cleared her throat.

“I'm Margaret Abbott. You've met my son, Walter.” A bright look of pride shone in her eyes. “He works for your husband over at the lumber mill.”

Amanda's cheeks grew warm at the reference to her
husband
. She never thought of Sam as her husband. At the mention of the word, her first reaction was always to think of Arthur.

“A very nice young man.” Amanda tried to keep her expression and voice nonchalant.

“This is my daughter-in-law, Sarah.” Margaret indicated a very pregnant woman who looked younger than Amanda. For a moment, a flash of jealousy jolted through her. The desire for children reminded her of the cruel twist her life had taken, trapping her in another loveless marriage. But she gave Sarah a bright smile. “It appears congratulations are in order for you.”

Sarah dropped her head and blushed, and the other women giggled.

“Sarah didn't think it was proper for her to be callin' on a new bride, but I said, best you know what you're in for.”

A petite woman with carefully arranged dark curls offered her hand to Amanda. “My name is Lydia Brown, my husband is Sherman. Perhaps you've met him?”

Amanda nodded. “Perhaps, there are so many...” Lydia interrupted her. “You'd remember my Sherman. He's so handsome, so very charming.”

“Don't mind her,” Margaret said, “she's only been married a month. She's a new bride, just like you, and we know how starry-eyed you ladies can get.” She waved a finger at Lydia. “Mrs. Calhoun is likely saying all them things about her Sam, too.”

There was more laughter, and Amanda felt trapped. Handsome? Sam was surely that. And he had more charm than any man should legally be allowed to possess. That was the problem. Of course, she could also add deceitful, arrogant, and manipulative to the list. She suspected Lydia harbored warmer feelings toward her Sherman than she did toward Sam.

Disconcerted by her own bitterness, Amanda changed the topic of conversation. “And the final member of your entourage, who might this be?” She turned to a stately older woman, dressed in black.

Margaret made the introduction. “This is Katherine Foley, her husband was killed in a cave-in not long ago.”

Amanda dropped her gaze. A cave-in, one of the most feared events in a miner's life. Crushed by rock, or smothered due to lack of air, it was a horrible way to die. Bright tears shone in Katherine's eyes, and a warm rush of sympathy coursed through Amanda. She couldn't relate to the loss of a lover, but Arthur had been a companion. She reached out to touch Katherine's glove gently.

“I asked to come, because I wanted to say how much I appreciate all the things you've done for my family.” Katherine's voice trembled. “You've made it possible for us to stay on here in Willow Creek. The food, the clothing, the money you gave us...”

Amanda's backbone stiffened. How foolish she was, to waste so much time on the petty issues of her life. Women like Katherine Foley didn't know where their next meal was coming from, or if they'd have a roof over their heads tomorrow.

She touched Katherine's shoulder. “Let's be seated, ladies.” Amanda nodded at the chairs placed around the table. “I'm glad you've come to see me, because to be honest, I desperately need your help.”

“I want to do everything possible for the people who work for the Silver Slipper Mine. My late husband, Arthur Wainwright”—she took a deep breath and crossed herself—“may his eternal soul rest in peace, made me give him a deathbed promise.” The other women were silent, raptly listening to her story.

“I came to Willow Creek to fulfill that promise, and despite everything that has happened, I plan to carry out Arthur's wishes. I have sufficient funds in an account for the Miners' Benevolent Association to provide for homes, a school, and a church.”

Caleb entered with a silver tea tray. The young man was clean, well fed, and had a glow of happiness about him. When Amanda had discovered his father was a drunk who beat him several times each week, she'd allowed him to move into a room upstairs. Every afternoon she gave him lessons, and she'd discovered he had a quick, resourceful mind.

Settling the tea tray on the table, he pointed at the plate of biscuits, dish of clotted cream, and apple pie.

“Mrs. Parmeter said if this weren't—” Caleb stopped for a moment and blushed a beet red from the tips of his ears to the edge of his shirt collar. “
Wasn't
good enough, to send me back for more.”

Amanda gave his shoulder a friendly pat. “This is wonderful, Caleb. Why don't you take a treat for yourself, then go ahead and finish what you were doing. Our lessons will be a little late today.”

He gathered a handful of biscuits and ambled out of the room as she started to pour the tea.

“You've surely done wonders with that boy,” Margaret said. “If I didn't hear you call him by name, I might not have knowed who he was.”

Offering each of her guests a china cup and saucer, Amanda nodded. “He's a very special young man with immense potential. It's made me very happy to be of assistance in helping to shape such a keen mind.”

She handed a long silver knife to Margaret. “Would you mind serving the pie?”

Margaret visibly puffed up with pride. “Why, I'd be right honored.” She lifted an eyebrow at Amanda. “Just hope I do it right. I never been around rich folk before.”

Amanda lifted the cup of tea to her lips and blew gently. “Just remember, rich folks enjoy their pie just like everyone else. Make the pieces generous.”

Her remark put the other women at ease, and before long they were lost in conversation, as Amanda outlined her plans for the town of Willow Creek. She caught their looks of relief when she mentioned recruiting a new doctor and the need for a hospital. Katherine clapped her hands at the announcement of a school and murmured that she'd been a teacher before she married. Amanda offered her a job, and was thrilled when the widow accepted.

By the end of their tea party, the five women had mapped out a plan for transforming a rough, rollicking mining town into a small island of civilization in the wilderness of the Montana territory. With their promises of support, Amanda assured them she would pay for all of the improvements. She promised them nothing would stand in the way of the Miners' Association, because all of the money had been left in trust. She didn't mention Sam, but knew they'd surely heard the tale of his betrayal.

Finally, the women pushed back their chairs, and Margaret coughed discreetly and blushed. She twisted her hands, and Amanda couldn't imagine what was distressing the woman.

“There's just one more thing, Mrs. Calhoun.”

“Please, call me Amanda.” She stepped forward to grasp one of Margaret's hands. “We're all friends now. Don't be afraid to ask me for anything you need.”

The other women giggled, and Katherine tried to hide her face behind her hand. “It's such an awful thing to ask, Margaret. Let's just be on our way.”

Sarah pushed herself forward and placed her hands on her hips. “It's the main reason we came here in the first place, Mrs.—um, Amanda. And now that we got to know you, we're sorry, because you're not snooty or nothin'. But, well...” She turned pink.

“For heaven's sake.” The shy Katherine shook her head and pursed her lips primly. “We all wanted to see the whorehouse.”

Amanda stared back at them dumbstruck, then burst out laughing.

Katherine relaxed and laughed along with her, until finally the other women joined in.

“I would be happy to give you a tour, but I should warn you. Some of the pictures I left hanging upstairs are pretty risqué. I don't want to offend you.”

Margaret gave her a gentle push toward the dining room arch. “We won't take no offense, we promise. But as God is my witness, I been so curious about his place, I could nearly burst.”

Amanda held her hand to her lips to keep from dissolving into a fit of giggles again. Winking conspiratorially, she leaned towards her new group of friends.

“If you promise not to tell, I can share some of the stories about this place. I found a diary that belonged to one of the previous residents.”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “That is if I won't offend any of you ladies.”

They dissolved into another fit of laughter, then plied her with questions about the furnishings in the hallway and the wallpaper, and she realized how much better she felt. Talking with other women had served as a balm for her soul.

Willow Creek was her home, at least for a while. She was going to make the best of her circumstances.

And maybe it was time to start talking to Sam again.

Chapter Thirteen

Amanda was in better spirits than she'd been since before her wedding. She cringed at the word wedding; it was a farce she and Sam had participated in. She still couldn't believe Father Mikelson had performed a marriage ceremony under such odd circumstances. She considered writing to the bishop to complain, but found
herself reluctant to get the priest in trouble with his religious superior. She had discovered a soft spot for the old man.

She briskly walked along the boardwalk to return to the Parmeter House, deciding she'd finally break her silence and speak to Sam tonight. For the first time in days, she was experiencing a warm, pleasant mood. She would deign to give him a few simple words. Nothing extravagant, because the man must be made to suffer for the humiliation he'd caused her. But a small phrase or comment wouldn't do much harm. She would offer him something that would make his eyes glow and his heart beat a bit faster. Then he would certainly double his efforts to enter into her good graces.

Amanda smiled to herself, imagining how grateful he would be for such a tidbit of her attention. He would probably beg for her forgiveness, or at the very least, for a kiss. She touched her finger to her lips and recalled how hot and eager one of Sam's kisses could be. A shiver of delight rippled through her.

She requested her mail at the large reception desk and found Robert studying her carefully, a frown creasing his usually friendly face.

She wrinkled her nose and grinned at him. “Have I acquired an outrageous growth on top of my head while I walked over here, sir?”

Robert stepped backward and fumbled with some papers stuffed beneath the counter. “Sorry, ma'am. I meant no offense.”

Robert had always been gentle and most considerate when in her presence. She liked him. “I apologize, Robert. I was just teasing you.”

“Unless of course there really is a growth upon my head, then I hope you'll tell me.” She winked at him.

Robert smiled at her, then shot a worried look upstairs. Amanda frowned as she waited for him to say something. He returned to making a bigger mess of his papers.

“Yes ma'am, I mean, no—. He took a deep breath. “But, well...” He blinked at her. “Sam ain't a bad sort. He just seems kinda stuck in the past, and he's gotta hard time trustin' folks. He was a regular hero in the war, saved a bunch of men in his company and got captured for it.” His voice took on a soothing tone as a glimmer of light reflected in his dark eyes.

Amanda was shocked. In their brief conversation about the war, Sam had never mentioned being heroic or saving anyone's life. Then again, Sam wasn't the type to brag about such things. He was an intensely private man. She really didn't know much about Samuel Calhoun and his life before they met.

Straightening her shoulders, she gave Robert a thin smile.

“I have no doubt Sam can be very heroic when it suits his purposes”. She lifted the hem of her dress to climb the stairs.

“There are many things I don't know about my husband, Robert. I suppose it's time I learn more. We
are
married.

Amanda fumbled in her bag, searching for the key to her room. She listened carefully for any movement from the room adjacent to hers, wondering if Sam had returned yet. If he discovered she was back, he would probably start pounding on the door and insist upon speaking to her.

She smiled. Perhaps it was time she opened that door and listened. She'd been too angry with him before, but her good mood today tempered her rage. She needed to stop being so childish and accept her responsibilities as a wife.