Promises Kept (23 page)

“He lives here?” Mrs. Wellington asked, absolutely shocked that the man she’d met at her boardinghouse was in the same town as Victoria.

“Is he a real cowboy?” Cade asked before anyone answered Mrs. Wellington.

“He’s the biggest man I ever saw,” Cody said.

“Did you see that gun?” Cade asked.

“Yeah, and I want a black hat like that. That’s a real cowboy hat,” Cody said.

“Me too. Can we have one?” Cade asked.

“What were those things clinking on his boots?” Cody asked.

Victoria remained silent. She hadn’t mentioned to Mrs. Wellington that Mr. McBride lived in Promise, or the problems the ranchers were having. Colt was obviously still convinced that Mr. Wallace was creating the problems. She wasn’t convinced, and from what she had seen, it was Colt acting like a madman. Wallace was a gentleman of some means, not some cowboy that needed to steal land, or create havoc to increase his wealth. He hadn’t mentioned buying her land again, and he truly seemed more interested in her than purchasing her farm.

“Victoria?” Mrs. Wellington asked when no one answered her question.

“Mr. McBride owns a ranch next to my farm.” She hadn’t yet told Mr. Wallace that she had met Mr. McBride before in St. Louis.

Mrs. Wellington opened her mouth to say something else, but closed it when Victoria shook her head at her, silently indicating she shouldn’t ask questions.

“Is he an outlaw?” Cade asked. He nudged his brother under the table. “He wears a gun, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. Did you see how tall he was? I bet he has a big horse,” Cody chimed in.

“I bet he’s ten feet tall,” Cade added.

Snatching the silverware from his servant’s hand, Wallace impatiently shooed her away. Between McBride barging in, and the incessant jabbering of these boys, he was ready to throw everyone from the room. “Shall we forget the incident and discuss something else?” he snapped. No matter how much he wanted to marry Victoria for her land, he would never tolerate her boys. He wanted his own sons, not the offspring of some other man. He’d asked Victoria if her husband had died and she told him she had never been married. Her admission surprised him, but he hadn’t pressed for more information. It displeased him that she wasn’t a true lady, but he’d take her for the land. He consoled himself thinking at her young age she probably hadn’t had many lovers. He wasn’t in love with her; he’d never been in love with anyone. She was a beautiful woman and he would be the envy of every man. He’d put a ring on her finger and the Barlow farm would finally be his. Confident that she was beginning to trust him, he would give her a little longer to bend to his will. Once they were married he would send her boys away and she would have no say in the matter.

One glance at Wallace’s icy blue eyes told Victoria he was more upset than he was letting on. She turned to the boys and softly instructed, “No more questions. Let’s enjoy this fine meal.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.

Mrs. Wellington made an effort to smooth Wallace’s ruffled feathers by plying him with questions about his life in America. It had been her experience that men like Wallace loved to talk about themselves, especially those countrymen who had amassed land and money. Wallace had become a wealthy man since leaving England.

Victoria barely listened to Wallace’s responses to Mrs. Wellington’s questions. Her mind was on Colt and the threat he issued to Wallace. She wondered if he would really have a gunfight with him. When she heard Wallace mention Abilene, she started listening intently to what he was saying. It was the second time he’d mentioned the town.

“How long were you in Abilene?” Mrs. Wellington inquired, more to keep the boys from talking than any real interest. She’d already taken a dislike to Wallace. She didn’t like the way he ignored the twins. She wondered if Victoria realized he considered the boys a nuisance.

“Three years. I thought I was ready to settle there and purchased a ranch. After a while, I decided to see more of the West. I still own the ranch, but I have a man running it for me.”

Victoria hadn’t realized that he was in Abilene that long. She wanted to ask him some questions, but she didn’t want to raise his suspicions by showing too much interest.

“How long ago was that, Mr. Wallace?” Mrs. Wellington asked.

“I left Abilene four years ago. I was particularly fond of a wom . . .” He hesitated, not wanting to reveal the true reason he’d stayed in Abilene so long. The woman he was involved with from the Lucky Slipper had left town without telling him, and he’d left soon after. “I must admit I was fond of the excitement of the wild town.”

Mrs. Wellington caught what Wallace was about to say, and she looked across the table at Victoria to see her reaction.

Victoria’s hands started to shake. She didn’t hear any of the conversation after he said he was in Abilene when she lived there. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. He’d never given any indication he had seen her before, so there was always the chance he didn’t frequent the saloon, or if he did, he didn’t recognize her.

“Oh, I’ve heard some fantastic stories about that town,” Mrs. Wellington confessed.

Wallace was barely listening to Mrs. Wellington. He was watching Victoria. Just like the last time he’d mentioned Abilene, a strange look crossed her face. When she glanced up and found him staring at her, he turned back to Mrs. Wellington. “I assure you, the stories you’ve heard are most likely true.”

“Are you planning to stay in Wyoming?” Mrs. Wellington inquired.

“Yes, I’m here to stay.” He reached over and squeezed Victoria’s hand and gave her a slight smile. “I have more reason to stay here now.”

Victoria didn’t know what to say. It hadn’t occurred to her that he wanted more than friendship from her. She thought she had made it clear she wasn’t looking for a husband since Mr. Barlow died. Now that she had a home for the boys, she no longer planned to marry. By accepting his invitations she’d obviously given him the wrong idea.

After dinner Wallace walked them to the front porch, where Bartholomew was waiting for them. Mrs. Wellington and the boys got into the buckboard, but Wallace reached for Victoria’s hand and led her a few feet away so he could speak to her privately.

“I enjoy having you here at the ranch, Victoria.” He took both of her hands in his and held them to his chest. “You can’t mistake my affection for you.”

Victoria couldn’t meet his eyes. She had no intention of leading him on, but she wanted to find a way to let him down gently, since the night had already been a total disaster.

When she didn’t immediately respond, he pressed, saying, “I do hope you are beginning to feel some affection for me as well.”

She could not give him a declaration of affection she did not feel. “I certainly appreciate your friendship, Mr. Wallace. The boys and I would be very lonely in this new town without friends.”

“I’ve asked you to call me Euan.” His irritation was evident, and he moved his hands to her shoulders and pulled her closer. “Victoria, I want more than friendship from you.” His impatient tone sounded like a man who was used to having his way.

The look on his face made her nervous. “I . . . I . . . This is all so new for me. The death of Mr. Barlow . . . the farm . . . the boys in a new place . . .” She was babbling, but she wouldn’t allow him to force her to say what he wanted to hear.

His gaze darted to the buckboard to see if anyone was listening. Seeing they were all watching, he softened his tone. “Yes, yes, you’re right, my dear. You’ve had many changes in a short period of time. But you and your boys are going to need a man to care for you. You will not be able to make it alone out here. This is wild country, not a large city like St. Louis, and I can protect you.”

His comment irritated her. Who did he think had looked out for her the last few years? She tried to move away from him, but he held her firmly. “I’m not alone. I have Bartholomew, and Mrs. Wellington is considering staying in Wyoming.”

“An old man and woman are not the protection you are going to need,” he whispered.

It was obvious he was going to press her for the response he wanted. She took a deep breath. If he insisted on an answer, she would give him one. “I hope you understand I’m not ready for any kind of commitment. I value friendship, but I am not prepared to say things I don’t feel.”

“Perhaps you will soon change your mind.” He released her hand and walked her to the buckboard.

If not for the late hour and wanting to get the boys home and in bed, she might have asked what he meant. Instead she said good-bye and climbed in the buckboard to face the long ride home, knowing she was going to be peppered with thousands of questions from the boys about Colt McBride.

The boys exhausted themselves with their questions, and were ready for bed as soon as they reached the farm. Mrs. Wellington was waiting for her in the kitchen having prepared their nightly tea. It seemed she had stored up her own questions about Colt McBride.

“Have a seat, my dear, let’s enjoy a nice cup of tea.”

Victoria took a seat and Mrs. Wellington poured the tea. “You failed to mention that Mr. McBride lived here.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think of it, and we’ve had so many other things to discuss.”

“He is a stunning man,” Mrs. Wellington said.

“Mr. Wallace?” Victoria asked innocently, knowing full well Mrs. Wellington was talking about Colt. That was the same word she’d used to describe him the first time she saw him in St. Louis.

Clanking her cup on her saucer, Mrs. Wellington exclaimed, “I’m talking about that handsome Mr. McBride!”

Victoria smiled. “Oh?”

“Surely you can’t think Mr. McBride living in this very town is a coincidence.”

She was reminded of what Colt said about coincidences.

“You must believe in miracles now! You mark my words: God has his hand in this.”

“I hardly think Mr. McBride is a miracle, and God hasn’t had His hand in my life for a long time, if ever. And I’m definitely not interested in cowboys.”

Mrs. Wellington gave her a long look, and shook her head from side to side. “I’m sorry you’ve stopped believing, Victoria. I hope one day you will change your mind on that subject. I know in my heart the Good Lord has a wonderful plan for your life. Now tell me, have you been to church here?”

“No, I haven’t.” She needed to tell Mrs. Wellington the truth about the reason she came to Wyoming before Bartholomew blurted out something about her planned marriage. She didn’t know where to begin, but she needed to do it soon.

“Perhaps we can go this Sunday.” Mrs. Wellington had never been able to talk her into attending church in St. Louis, but she always allowed the boys to accompany her. It was obvious something had happened to Victoria to cause her to turn away from her faith, yet Mrs. Wellington was confident that she would come around in time.

“We’ll see,” Victoria responded, knowing she would think of an excuse not to go.

“What is the problem between Mr. Wallace and Mr. McBride?”

Victoria related what Colt had told her about the recent events.

“Do you think Mr. Wallace is behind this mischief?”

Victoria thought about Wallace’s behavior before she answered. Tonight was the first time she’d seen Wallace angry. Still, she had no reason to believe he was not what he seemed. “He has been nothing but a gentleman to me, showing the utmost consideration and kindness. It just doesn’t make sense why a man of his wealth would do such a thing.”

Mrs. Wellington wasn’t as enthused as Victoria over Mr. Wallace’s fine manners. Perhaps it was because she had more years’ experience, but there was something in his eyes, a lack of emotion, or at least genuine emotion, that she had detected when he looked at Victoria. He was interested in Victoria, as any man would be since she was such a beautiful young woman. But, after hearing what Victoria told her about the land, she suspected he had other motives for his attentions.

“Do you have feelings for Mr. Wallace?”

Giving a nervous laugh, Victoria said, “Mr. Wallace asked me that very question just tonight.”

“Please forgive me if I am being a nosy old woman. It’s just that I am very fond of you. I feel like you are my own daughter.”

Leaning over, Victoria squeezed her hand. “You’ve been like a mother to me, and I don’t mind your asking. As I told Mr. Wallace, it is too soon for me to make a decision when I’m just now starting a new life. But there is one thing in his favor. He’s not a cowboy, he’s . . . he’s . . .” Actually, she didn’t quite know how to describe Wallace. “He doesn’t work his ranch like Mr. McBride. He says he has a manager who runs it.”

Mrs. Wellington leaned back and chuckled. “My dear, cowboy or not, if the man doesn’t make your heart beat faster when you see him, then he is not the man for you. You wouldn’t have to think about it, you would just know. The way I knew when I saw my wonderful Wellie . . . did I ever tell you that’s what I called my dear husband?” She didn’t wait for a response before adding, “All the same, I must say you are in a fine pickle.”

Victoria frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“Two handsome men vying for your attention! I’d say that’s a fine pickle!”

“Two?”

“Why, that big handsome cowboy was so angry seeing you sitting at Mr. Wallace’s table, I thought he might drag you away.”

“You are mistaken about that. Mr. McBride has no interest in marrying.”

Taking a sip of her tea, Mrs. Wellington’s eyes twinkled over the rim of her cup. “Really?” She’d seen the look on his face when he looked at Victoria, and if that wasn’t jealousy she didn’t know what was.
Why can’t the girl see what the Good Lord has literally placed in front of her? And twice, for heaven’s sake!

“Yes. I’m quite sure Mr. McBride is content with his life. He’s like most cowboys: interested in women, but not matrimony,” Victoria replied.

“Many men do not realize they want to marry and they fight the notion. It’s up to the women to show them what they are missing. My dear Wellie wasn’t keen on marriage, but he changed his mind rather quickly when he thought I was going to marry another man,” Mrs. Wellington confided. If she were in Victoria’s position there was no question which man she would choose. And it wouldn’t be that English fop.