Promises Kept (25 page)

“I think I know what you mean,” she retorted, then presented him with her back when she whirled around and marched toward the porch.

“And it insults me that you thought I would hurt your boys!” he yelled at her back.

She stopped at the door and turned back to him. “You were the one acting like a madman!”

He had to give her that. “I didn’t know you were there,” he admitted more calmly. Then he added more forcefully, “But I dam . . . darn sure wouldn’t hurt children.”

Not knowing how to respond to that statement, she said curtly, “Dinner is ready.”

When she was out of sight he turned and patted Razor’s neck. “Well, that went well, don’t you think, buddy?”

The horse snorted at him.

Falling into bed four hours later, Colt was exhausted. He felt like he’d been in the line of fire with all the questions from the boys and Mrs. Wellington. It was a toss-up who asked more questions. He was disappointed that he hadn’t had one moment alone with Victoria the entire evening, to find out exactly what was going on with her and Wallace. It was probably for the best since she seemed hel . . . heaven-bent on defending Wallace in every discussion. Remembering what the boys said about shooting Wallace brought a smile to his face. At least they had good sense, he mused. He liked those boys, and they were obviously hungry for male companionship judging by their many questions. They had pleaded with him to teach them to ride a horse. Seeing as how they were around two women all the time, he figured they needed a man to show them some things, and Bartholomew was getting up there in age. Even though Victoria hadn’t seemed too pleased when he promised the boys he would teach them, she hadn’t objected. Every boy needed those skills, to his way of thinking, and he figured she understood that, if she was determined to stay in Wyoming.

Being around the boys reminded him of his own childhood. There were so many things he’d learned from his father, whose influence made Colt the man he was today. It saddened him to think those boys had lived almost seven years without a father’s love and guidance. They were the perfect age to learn, and he decided what they really needed was their own horse. It didn’t make sense to teach them to ride if they didn’t learn the importance of taking care of the animal that could help them survive in times of trouble. He decided he’d pick out two of the smaller horses on the ranch for them. He smiled to himself just thinking how they would react to having their own horses. If he knew boys, they would want to spend a lot of time on his ranch seeing to the horses. He wondered if Victoria would object. It might mean she would have less time to spend with Wallace. Now, what could be wrong with that plan?

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Have a drink with me, honey?” Gage Hardy leaned against the bar next to Lucy.

“You want to have a steak?” Lucy asked, hoping he would offer to buy her dinner as well as drinks.

Since the bar was nearly empty, and there was no one around to play poker with, Gage thought why not. “Order up a couple of steaks if you want to have dinner with me.” He pointed to a table. “I’ll be over there. Bring a bottle back with you.”

Lucy returned with the bottle and pulled a chair closer to Hardy’s. “I told the cook to make the steaks extra special,” she said with a smile. She made more money when the cowboys ordered dinner, and seeing how much Hardy could drink, she was already counting the coins. Pointing to the bottle, she added, “I had Sam give me the good stuff. Wallace drinks this.”

Hardy looked at the bottle. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”

She didn’t mind spending a few hours with Hardy. He was always nice to her, and he was handsome enough. Admittedly, he wasn’t as handsome as Colt McBride, but no man measured up to him in her estimation. The best thing about Hardy was the more he drank the more he liked to talk. The evening wouldn’t be boring. “I’m glad you came in tonight before your boss. He never talks to me, he just bosses me around.”

“You don’t like the boss?” he teased.

“Not much. He thinks he’s better than most folks,” she retorted snidely.

He thought she had Wallace pegged dead on. “He’s a strange one, that’s for sure.”

“I hear he’s sweet on that woman from the Barlow farm,” Lucy said, hoping to find out more about the woman she’d seen with Colt. “L. B. said her name was Victoria . . . or something like that.”

Gage’s ears perked up at the mention of Victoria. He’d glanced down at his glass thinking he needed to pace himself if he wanted to stay coherent. “How did she come about owning that farm?”

“She came here to marry Chet Barlow.”

He hadn’t heard that bit of news. “How long has she been here?”

“Not that long. I heard she was a mail-order bride.”

“When they gettin’ hitched?” Gage asked.

Lucy laughed. “The old guy went toes up. He dropped over dead before she even got here. But the strangest thing is, he didn’t even know her, but he left the farm to her.”

“He left his farm to a woman he didn’t know?” He wasn’t sure Lucy knew what she was talking about. Now why would a man do something so harebrained?

“He sure did. I never met the man, since he never came into the saloon, but I would have found a way to meet him if I’d known he wanted to leave that land to someone. I can guarantee he would’ve had more fun with me than with that starched-bloomers I saw with Colt McBride,” she boasted.

“Is McBride courtin’ her too?” Gage asked.

“I’ve seen him with her, but the men say she spends more time with Wallace.”

“Wonder if her intended knew who she really is?”

Lucy looked at his eyes to see if he was already feeling his whiskey. “What do you mean?”

“I wonder if he knew Delilah before she came here.”

“Her name’s Victoria,” Lucy told him, thinking he must have had more whiskey than she thought.

“Her name is Delilah, not Victoria,” he said firmly.

Eyeing him steadily, she thought he still looked sober enough. “Are you sure? Do you know her?”

“Oh yeah, I know her. Met her in Abilene a few years back. Her name is Delilah.”

“Then why does she call herself Victoria?”

“I haven’t figured that one out. What makes you think Wallace is sweet on her?”

“He’s never been seen courting any woman before she came to town. And you know how cowboys talk when they get to drinkin’. The men say she’s been out to his ranch, but then, I guess you would know about that. They also say he wants her land.”

Gage had heard from some of the men that a woman had been to Wallace’s ranch for dinner. Wallace wasn’t the kind of man who confided his personal business to anyone, but he figured Hoyt Nelson would know what was going on. “I don’t spend much time around the ranch house.” He hadn’t been back to Delilah’s farm since that night McBride almost caught him. It was his intention to talk to her that night to tell her she shouldn’t be afraid of him. He didn’t want to scare her off by coming on too strong like he did before. Alcohol got the best of him that night in Abilene, and he wasn’t about to make the same mistake a second time. He’d done a lot of thinking since that night, and for the first time in his life he was trying to plan for the future. He figured it was time to settle down, and there was only one woman he wanted to do that with. He’d considered getting a small place of his own and making a go of it. He wasn’t afraid of hard work and he was good at cowboying. Not that he’d made enough money working for other ranchers to buy land, but thanks to his poker skills he’d managed to put some money aside.

The cook approached and put the steaks on the table. He glanced at Lucy and thought if he married Delilah he’d have to give up seeing other women. He liked Lucy, she was young and pretty, but she wasn’t Delilah. He wondered if Delilah was interested in marrying Wallace. It’d be hard to compete with a man with his kind of money; he could give her anything she wanted. He smiled to himself, thinking that problem might be solved if Wallace continued to give Hoyt Nelson grief.

By the time they finished their steaks and the second bottle of whiskey was empty, Lucy had heard the details of Gage’s obsession with Delilah from Abilene. Once the dishes were removed, Gage’s head dropped to the table in a drunken stupor. Lucy finished the last of her whiskey as she thought about what he’d told her. There was no doubt in her mind he knew the woman. What man would spend that many years searching for a woman and not recognize her when he found her? The only thing that didn’t make sense to her was why Gage hadn’t told Wallace about the woman’s past. There had to be a way for her to use this information to her advantage. Her thoughts trailed to Colt McBride. She’d bet her Saturday night wages that he didn’t know the woman he’d had on his arm that day was a soiled dove from Abilene.

Walking from the stable, Colt stopped when he saw the buckboard coming to a halt near the house. “Hello there,” he said to the group in the buckboard.

“Hi, Colt,” Cody and Cade said together as they jumped from the back.

“Colt, I hope you don’t mind us stopping by, but I need you to take a look at Bandit. He’s been really sick and we’re worried about him,” Bartholomew said as he helped Mrs. Wellington to the ground.

Colt wondered why Victoria wasn’t with them, but he didn’t ask. “I don’t mind at all.” He walked over to the buckboard and saw the motionless Bandit on a blanket. Usually the dog was all over him, so something was definitely wrong. When he lifted Bandit from the wagon he let out a little moan. “Come on, buddy, let’s go to the house and I’ll have a look at you.” When Mrs. Wellington caught up to him, Colt asked, “How long has he been like this?”

“He seemed fine this morning, but it wasn’t long after Victoria left to go to town with Mr. Wallace that Bandit became ill. He started pacing around and wouldn’t lie down. Then he started vomiting and the poor thing hasn’t been able to keep water down. After he vomited several times, he staggered and just tumbled over and wouldn’t move.”

Colt placed Bandit on the kitchen table to examine him as everyone hovered around.

“We said a prayer for him,” Cade said in a trembling voice. “And Mrs. Wellington said you was God’s helper.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Cody asked, his lower lip trembling.

Colt smiled at them. “I’ll do my best.”

Colt pulled the lids of Bandit’s eyes wide and peered into them. He wasn’t sure of anything. “I sure hope so. He’s my buddy, too.” He didn’t know who looked more frightened, the boys or Mrs. Wellington. “Mrs. Wellington, I think Helen made a cake last night, and I know there’s some ice tea. Maybe you could take the boys to the dining room and fix them up.”

Grateful for something to do, Mrs. Wellington nodded. “Excellent idea.” She took the boys by the hand and led them away from the table. “Help me find that cake and some glasses for the tea.”

“Bartholomew, would you get me a quilt from one of the bedrooms?” Colt asked.

Bandit moaned again when Colt pressed on his stomach. “It’s okay, boy, we’re going to make you better.” Bandit licked his hand when Colt looked at his gums, the action bringing a large lump to his throat. Not only would the boys be heartbroken if Bandit died, but he’d seen the way Victoria doted on him. They would all be devastated, himself included.

After she settled the boys, Mrs. Wellington came back to the kitchen. “Do you need assistance, Mr. McBride?”

“Please call me Colt,” he told her. “What has Bandit eaten today?”

“I gave him some leftover ham and eggs this morning. That’s his favorite. We all ate the same breakfast, so I don’t think it was bad.” She was quiet for a moment before saying, “Dear me, I had forgotten about the treat Mr. Wallace gave him. I thought it was nice of him since he generally seems fearful of Bandit. Perhaps it was spoiled meat.”

Colt didn’t comment. Wallace didn’t strike him as the kind of man who would even think about a dog, much less bring him dinner. Bandit had all the signs of poisoning.

“Can you help him? We are so fond of this animal. It’s the first dog the boys have had,” Mrs. Wellington said.

Before Colt responded, Bartholomew returned with a quilt in hand. “Is this okay?”

“Sure.” Colt lifted Bandit and Bartholomew placed the folded quilt underneath him. Pointing to a cabinet, Colt said, “Mrs. Wellington, there are some large bowls in that cabinet. Would you fill one up with some water? Can you tell me how many times he vomited? Do you think it was equal to the amount he ate?”

“I think he vomited four times, and I remember thinking the poor thing couldn’t have much left in his stomach.”

Mrs. Wellington placed the bowl of water next to Bandit. When the dog didn’t move, Colt dipped his fingers in the water and let it drip into Bandit’s mouth. “Come on, boy, you need to drink something.”

Bandit looked at Colt, then at the water. Slowly he leaned over and stuck his tongue in the water.

Colt rubbed his ears. “Good boy!” He looked at Mrs. Wellington and Bartholomew. “We need to keep some water in him, but I think since he vomited so much, he got most of it out of his system. I’ll get some bromide from the stable. That should help him rest easier.”

“I’ll get it, Colt,” Bartholomew offered, hurrying out the back door.

“Do you think he will be okay?” Mrs. Wellington asked nervously.

“I think so. He just needs to drink and get some rest. The bromide will help with that.”

“I’ll go tell the boys. They will be so relieved,” she said, hurrying from the room.

When she was out of earshot, Colt leaned over and looked in Bandit’s eyes. “Now, don’t you make a liar out of me. And from now on don’t take any food from that son of a—” He stopped what he was going to say and looked around to see if the boys had slipped into the room. Seeing he was alone, he lifted Bandit’s ear and whispered to him, “You know who I’m talking about.”

Bandit moaned in response.

After Bandit fell asleep, Colt moved him to his bedroom and placed him on his bed so he could rest without being disturbed. Returning to the kitchen, Bartholomew handed him a cup of coffee. “Thanks. Why don’t you all stay and have dinner here? I think Bandit needs to rest for a while.”