Promise me tomorrow (29 page)

Rusty felt her heart lighten. She had a job to do, and she was going to do it to the best of her ability. Quintin McCandles would be the recipient of her faithfulness, and that was impetus enough to keep Rusty going.

Will I ever have my own child, Lord? Every year I see children leave or, like this summer, I commit my heart and then have to walk away. Will You remember me, Lord, when You think of motherhood? Will You please remember how much I want children of my own?

"Aunt Rusty," a small voice sounded just outside Rusty's door. She was dressed, although her hair wasn't combed, but she did not go to the door. She waited for Quintin to open it just a crack and then dashed around the bed and into the closet. She knew Quintin saw her from the delighted giggles that followed her across the room.

"I saw you, Aunt Rusty. You can't hide from me."

But hide she did, and it was a few minutes before Quintin found her behind the dresses in her walk-in closet.

"I see your shoe," he cried triumphantly, and with that Rusty came rushing at him. He squealed and tried to run, but she was too fast. She grabbed him with a triumphant cry and ran out to toss him onto the bed. A wresding match ensued, lasting until they were both laughing too hard to move.

"I've got to finish getting dressed," Rusty said, her voice still breathless. "It's time for breakfast."

"I'll wait for you."

"All right. I just need to do something with my hair." She scooted off the bed and made for the mirror.

"Put it on top," Quintin recommended, and Rusty turned to him, confusion lowering her brow. On top?

"Yes, like in the picture."

"Oh, all right."

As Rustys hands began to gather and brush, she remembered the small photo album she had brought along. It showed all of her family, including a very formal picture of her with her siblings. It was for this photo that she had piled her hair atop her head. This was not something she usually did unless it got very warm, but to please Quintin she went to work. You missed some," he offered, having come close to advise her.

"I'll get it," she assured him. "How's that?" Rusty finally turned to present herself, and Quintin smiled.

"I like it."

'Thank you. Now, help me make the bed, and we'll get something to eat. Did you make your bed?"

"I think so."

"Well, did you or didn't you?"

"I tried."

"I think I'll check for myself," Rusty decided, her voice quiet but firm.

"I'd better go try again."

Rusty shook her head when he dashed from the room. She finished the bed on her own and then sought him out.

"Well, now, this is nice, Quin. I can tell that you tried hard."

He smoothed one more wrinkle and looked very pleased.

"Shall we go down?"

He skipped over to take her hand, and just a few moments later they were entering the breakfast room. Chase was already in attendance.

"Good morning," Rusty said to him, smiling.

"Good morning," Quintin echoed her.

"Good morning to both of you," Chase replied in his usual quiet way. But he was feeling anything but quiet inside. It hadn't occurred to him how different Rusty might look with her hair up, but the change in her was dramatic. The effect was heightened by the pale blue blouse, which sported a high collar around her neck. She looked very lovely and mature, and right now, thankfully unaware of the way Chase stared.

"Doesn't that smell good, Quin? I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry, Aunt Rusty."

The remark swiftly grabbed Chase's attention away from Rustys appearance. He thought such a remark to be impertinent, but his son's companion obviously didn't agree.

"I am always hungry, aren't I, Quin?" Her voice revealed no affront.

"It's because you don't clean your plate," Quintin explained.

Chase waited for Rusty to correct his son, but a reprimand never came. Instead she took what she wanted from the buffet and made her way to the table.

"No, I don't," she agreed good-naturedly. "I get distracted, but I'm always satisfied."

Rusty and Quintin had finished filling their plates, their backs to the room's other occupant. When they took their seats at the table, Rusty saw very swiftly that her employer's attention was not on his food or paper, but she didn't comment. She bowed with Quintin, said a prayer of thanks for the two of them, and then picked up her fork.

"I took too much eggs."

"Did you, Quin?" Rusty was glad to have something else to think about. "Just finish what you can and next time take less. You can always go back for more."

"Do you want some?"

"No, thank you, dear. I took only what I needed."

Rusty went back to her food, but not before she glanced at Chase. He was not staring at them anymore, but something told her that he would seek her out before leaving town. Rusty guessed correctly. As the trio finished their meal, Chase sent Quintin to the kitchen on his own and asked to see Rusty in his office. He spoke to her without shutting the door or taking a seat.

"I'm a little concerned with how familiar Quintin has become with you. I find him impertinent when he tells you that you're always hungry."

All color drained from Rusty's face. She felt as if he'd just thrown ice water on her. "I'm sorry, sir," she said with soft sincerity. "I forget my position here—as one of your employees, that is. I'm sorry I've been too familiar with Quintin."

"Katherine, I was not speaking of
your
behavior but of Quintin's."

Rusty swallowed past a dry throat and frowned in confusion. Chase could see that he'd lost her.

"Do you not find it rather personal when he tells you that you don't finish what's on your plate?" he asked.

"Yes," she said slowly, "I guess I do find it personal, but I don't find it offensive. If I could be so bold as to ask, sir, if Quintin can't be informal and at ease with me, with whom can he get close?"

Chase visibly started. He opened his mouth and shut it again. He didn't have an answer.

"I'm sorry, sir." Rusty felt immediate regret. "I shouldn't have said that. You've asked me not to be too familiar with Quintin. In the future I'll do my best to remember." Rusty fell silent, waiting to be dismissed. She tried to ignore the painful squeezing sensation around her heart, but she was all too aware of it.

Chase couldn't believe what she'd just asked him. With startling clarity he remembered the teasing and laughter around the Taggarts' table in Boulder. Chase knew in an instant that it was time to find a wife. His son couldn't grow up as lonely as he had. He had to have some siblings, but in the meantime . . .

Chase realized that Rusty was still standing in front of him. Her eyes looked large enough to swallow her whole face, and until that moment Chase didn't realize how much his words must have hurt her. He tried to make amends.

"I think I'd like us to forget about this conversation, Katherine. You're right, Quintin doesn't have anyone with whom to laugh and joke. In the future, I'll leave his manners and choice of words to your discretion."

"All right." Rusty was relieved, although she still felt somewhat bruised. "I feel that I should tell you, Mr. McCandles, that Quintin is always polite. He thanks me for reading to him and for helping him with his shoes. I've yet to find him disrespectful. Mrs. Harding did a very thorough job."

Chase nodded, but no words came.

"Was that all, sir?" Rusty finally asked.

Chase looked down into her pale face and felt a sudden need to stay home. It was too late to cancel his appointment, but he wouldn't stay any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Yes, that's all, Katherine. Please send Quintin to me. I'm going to leave earlier than I'd planned, but I'll be home no later than Thursday." Yes, sir.

Rusty slipped away, and Chase looked after her with regret. She was doing a great job, and he'd made her feel like she'd failed. For some reason his eyes lingered on the back of her slender neck as she made her way through the drawing room. She seemed so vulnerable to him that he felt an ache inside.

Ididn't even tell her how nice her hair looks.
His thoughts were cut off when Quintin came into view. His words to the licde boy were brief, and just minutes after he spoke to him, Chase headed out the door for the train station. His only thought was to get to Pueblo and return home as swiftly as possible.

33

Rusty received two very welcome letters on Thursday. The remainder of Tuesday had been hard as she'd tried not to take Chases words personally; he had been on her mind off and on all day. Rusty kept reminding herself that he had only been concerned about his son, but she was surprised by how much the conversation had affected her. Wednesday had been almost as bad as the scene had been on her mind all that day as well.

For a time on Tuesday she felt a barrier between her and Quintin, and wondered if she was doing anything right, but by lunchtime she was back on firm ground. She had a job to do, and she would do it! It didn't come with a lot of praise, but she would still work hard. On this day Rusty also discovered something else: Quintin McCandles needed a little time on his own. She was not tiring of him, but she was beginning to see that this child was never alone.

Starting that very day—one hour after lunch—she would ask Quintin to find something to do on his own. When she first told him of the plan, he stared at her, but then understanding dawned and he wandered off co play on the veranda, seemingly quite content. Rusty hung around in the background for a few minutes to see if he would do well, but she left him on his own when she saw that he would not wander into danger.

He did splendidly on Tuesday and even better Wednesday. Now Thursday had come, and she had just told him it was time for his free play. Quintin headed onto the veranda for the third day in a row, and Rusty went into the drawing room to read her letters. One was from Tibby, and the other from Grace Harrington. Rusty had known the date for Tibby's wedding since before she left, so with hopes that Grace would have a date for her as well, she opened that letter first.

We have a date!
were Grace's opening words.
August 14. Please tell me you'll be here, Rusty. You know I'm planning on your standing up with us as a bridesmaid. Melissa has already picked out a dress pattern she likes and is ecstatic to show it to you. Write as soon as you can and tell me what you think.

The letter went on about Grace's wedding plans, but Rusty took only half of it in. She was thinking that she must tell her employer which dates she needed to be away. Now that she knew both, she would write them down and put them on his desk. Rusty took care of this on the stationery in her room. Tibby's date was in July, and Grace's wedding was planned for five weeks later. Rusty had just placed the message on Chases desk when she turned and found him coming across the drawing room.

"Oh, Mr. McCandles!" Rusty tried not to act as awkward as she felt. She didn't know if she should say "Welcome home" or not. She opted to stick to business. "I was just putting some dates on your desk—the days I need to be gone for my friends' weddings."

"All right." His manner was slighdy aloof, and Rusty felt guilty for having gone into his private office. Irritated with herself for feeling that way, she decided to slip away and leave him alone. However, his voice stopped her.

"Katherine, will you please send Quintin to me?"

It was on the tip of her tongue to assure him she would, but a spark of anger ignited inside of her, and she did nothing to ignore it. She walked completely out of the room but then turned and went right back in.

"Why do you always do that?"

Chase looked up in surprise. He had gone around to the chair behind his desk but paused, the paper in his hand ignored.

"Do what?"

"Send for Quintin. Why don't you ever go to him?"

Chase looked at her patiently. 'This is a large home, Katherine. I don't have time to run around and look for my son. '

Anger exploded in Rusty's brain. "That's more than obvious," she gritted out. "Anyone living here could attest to the fact that you don't have time for your son."

In shock, Chase stared at her for a moment before indignation leapt into his eyes. Even then Rusty did not back down. Chase came out from behind the desk, but Rusty stood her ground. They glared at one another for several seconds, both breathing hard.

"I believe you're out of line, Miss Taggart," Chase managed, sounding calmer than he felt.

"If you don't like it, fire me!" Rusty shot back, not calm at all.

"You're fired."

"I'll pack my bags," she said without missing a beat, her voice rising slightly, "but not before I've had my say. You just made the biggest mistake of your life. No, I'm wrong," she said with a downward slash of her hand. "You just made the biggest mistake of Quintin's life.
Vm
the only human he knows." With that she turned to storm across the room.

"What
is that supposed to mean?" Chases voice cracked like thunder as he followed her.

Rusty turned back so fast that her hair fanned out behind her. They were now in the middle of the drawing room, both red in the face with emotion.

"I'll tell you," she said ruthlessly. "If you and your wife had wanted a little wind-up toy, it could have been purchased with a lot less trouble and expense at the general store in town!"

"How dare you!" Chase exploded, well and truly furious, but Rusty was not intimidated.

"How dare
I?
How dare
you
for having a child you don't care about!"

"And what, may I ask, makes
you
an authority on child-raising,
Miss
Taggart?"

"I don't need to be an authority. I just need to have eyes!"

"Well,
open them,
and you'll see the way I love and provide for my son!"

"Is that what you call it?" Her eyes were huge with shock. "Where I come from we have a different term!"

Chase was opening his mouth to retort when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Quintin was standing in the doorway between the hall and the drawing room. Rusty followed his eyes and saw him as well.