Promises Kept (33 page)

He placed an arm around Victoria’s waist and pulled her to his chest. “All you have to do is say yes, and you and the boys will always be here with me. We can grow old together, build the boys their own homes when they marry, and God willing, maybe live long enough to see some grandchildren.”

He made everything sound so easy, so uncomplicated, and she was tempted to accept his offer. Nursing him the last few days had only confirmed how deeply she loved him. Problem was, she cared too much to ever become an embarrassment to him. Maddie had said every cowboy in town had been told she worked in a saloon. She could only imagine the crude comments that men would make to him.

She took his face between her hands and looked into his eyes. “I know that you think you want to marry me now, but what happens when someone says something about your wife’s past? How would you feel then?”

“I feel like they would be making a big mistake,” he told her honestly.

She frowned at him.

His tone turned serious. “Victoria, as I told you last night, you have nothing to be ashamed of, and you sure as hel . . . heaven have nothing to hide. Don’t worry about things that won’t happen.”

Helen and Colt had been very understanding when she told them about her background, but she didn’t think most people in town would be as accepting. People could be judgmental; she’d seen that firsthand from the townspeople of Abilene. She couldn’t live with herself if he got killed defending her if someone like Gage Hardy insulted her. “Let’s talk about this later.”

He grasped her hands, turned them over, and kissed each palm. “I’m proud of you for being courageous even though you had to be afraid. You’re the bravest person I know, and nothing about your past will shame me. And you will marry me.” He gazed into her blue eyes and added, “If you love me.”

By the end of the funeral, Victoria was amazed Colt was still standing. A sheen of perspiration covered his face, the only telling sign that he was on his feet by sheer determination. She knew his physical pain probably paled in comparison to what he was feeling emotionally. True to form, he remained stoic, but he couldn’t hide his sadness from her. She could tell by the way he twirled the brim of his hat, much the way he had at Mr. Barlow’s funeral, he was fighting to keep his emotions in check. She noticed T. J. and Doc Barnes hovered close by like they thought he might drop any moment. The boys and Bandit stood silently in front of him, not one sound uttered out of the three of them. They were connected to Colt’s emotions and understood his heartbreak.

Colt leaned over to Victoria’s ear and whispered, “Will you take Mrs. Wagner to the buckboard? I need a minute alone.”

She didn’t want to leave him, but she understood. “Of course. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be right along.”

Victoria gathered the boys and together they walked to the buckboard. T. J. and the doc backed off to give Colt some space.

Colt stood, with Bandit by his side, over Tate’s grave as the other mourners moved away. “Tate, I’m sorry,” he started, and a tear trailed down his cheek. Bandit leaned into his leg, lending comfort only an animal could offer. The last night he spent with Tate played in his mind. “I guess you’ve had a hand in getting me and Victoria together. You were right. I do need something in my life besides the ranch. I just wish you were here to help me with those boys. They could use a big brother like you. Don’t worry about your family; I will see to it they are taken care of.” He swallowed hard before he added, “Lord, you have a good young man in Tate.” He pulled a bandana from his pocket to wipe his tears away. After settling his Stetson on his head, he added, “I’ll miss you.” He stroked Bandit’s head and turned toward the buckboard. “Come on, boy.”

Victoria met them halfway, and together they walked to Tate’s mother. “Mrs. Wagner, I can’t tell you how sorry I am,” Colt said, his voice cracking.

“Now don’t you go blaming yourself, Mr. McBride. This wasn’t your fault. You were always good to Tate, and I know you did your best. No one ever treated him as good as you. You gave that boy everything he ever wanted. He looked up to you—” She dabbed her tears with her handkerchief. “He . . . he wanted to be just like you. I guess God just needed him now.”

“I promise you I will find the person who did this,” Colt choked out.

Mrs. Wagner touched his arm gently. “I know you will. Now you need to get back to the house. Doc said you had no business even being out of bed.”

Colt hesitated a moment, trying to find a way to say what he wanted without offending her. He wanted to put her mind at ease about how she would care for her family with Tate gone. “I don’t want you to worry. You will stay on the ranch as long as you want, and still handle the wash for the men if you want.”

She choked up at Colt’s words. She was fearful with Tate gone that Colt might ask her to leave the ranch. He didn’t charge her for the house, but even with her earnings from handling the wash, it would be hard to make it without Tate’s income. “You’ve done so much for us.” She looked back at her son’s grave. “You already gave us a place to live, and now this”—she pointed to the gravesite—“this beautiful resting place for my boy.”

Victoria noticed Colt slumping and getting paler by the minute. She politely steered him to the buckboard. “Mrs. Wagner, you and the children ride down with us.”

Back at the house, Victoria said good-bye to Mrs. Wagner while T. J. assisted Colt. “When you have some time I would like you and the children to come to dinner. There is a matter I would like to discuss with you. Bartholomew will pick you up in the buckboard whenever you would like.”

Puzzled by what this lovely young woman wanted to talk to her about, Mrs. Wagner said, “I will send word in a few days.”

Seeing the concerned look on the woman’s face, Victoria patted her arm. “Nothing to worry about. I just have a business proposition for you to consider.”

Mrs. Wagner hugged her and Colt. Colt whispered in her ear, “Anything you and the children need, the mercantile will know to put it on my bill.”

“But—”

“No arguments. One of the men will ride you back to the house.” He glanced at T. J., who nodded his understanding.

“What did you want to talk to Mrs. Wagner about?” Colt asked Victoria as they walked inside.

“Before I left St. Louis I sent a letter and a sample reticule to shops in San Francisco and London to see if they might be interested in placing an order. Mrs. Wellington brought their responses to me when she arrived. Both shops placed several orders, and I need someone to help me sew them. The designs I’ve drawn require intricate detail work, and I’m afraid Mrs. Wellington is not handy enough with a needle. Tate said . . .” She hesitated, thinking it would only cause him more pain to talk about Tate.

Colt pinned her with his dark eyes. “Tate said what?”

“The first day I met him he remarked on my reticule, and he mentioned his mother would love to make something like that since she liked to sew. Just a few weeks ago he asked me if he could buy her one for a Christmas present.” She stopped when her voice broke. Colt squeezed her hand in understanding. She cleared her throat and continued. “I had been working on one for him, but I wasn’t going to charge him. He was always so helpful to me . . . such a kind boy.”

Colt remembered the bag he’d taken off Victoria’s wrist the day she fainted. At the time, he thought the flowers were pretty. “Is that what your drawings are for?”

“Yes,” she replied, somewhat surprised that he remembered seeing her drawings that night in her kitchen.

“You are an amazing woman, Victoria.” He pulled her to him and rested his chin on her hair. “Tate was a great kid. It will mean a lot to his mom to help support her family. Tate told me she doesn’t like to accept charity. That’s why she started doing the wash for the men.”

“If she wants to work with me, she will not be accepting charity,” Victoria assured him.

Colt pulled back and looked at her. “You mean she can support all those children by sewing those . . . what are they called again . . . bags?”

“I’ll have you know they are not bags, they are reticules,” Victoria corrected. “They are the height of fashion.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Colt shook his head and grinned. “It’s amazing what women buy.”

“Women could say the same thing about men and their guns.”

“Well, you have to admit they’re not big enough for more than that derringer of yours.”

“And how many guns can you get in your holster?” she asked sweetly.

Colt chuckled, and he heard the voice of his dad saying,
Never argue with a woman, son. You’ll never win.
He’d never heard his father say one cross word to his mother. He loved her so much that after she was killed, he remained faithful to her until his death. Colt knew he would love Victoria like that if she would let him. Not
if
. . .
when
, he reminded himself. She was going to marry him, and she would wrap his tail in knots just like his mom did his old man. He smiled at the prospect.

Tugging on his arm, Victoria said, “Now, sir, you need to get back into bed.”

“She’s right, Colt,” Doc Barnes said from behind them. “You have blood on your jacket and I know you’ve opened up my pretty stitches again. I need to have a look.”

“I’m not going to argue. I’m going up right now.” Colt accepted the doctor’s assistance up the staircase.

Hours later, when Helen delivered Colt’s dinner to his room, he asked, “Where’s Victoria?” She hadn’t been up to see him since the doc re-stitched him and changed his bandages.

Helen placed the tray in front of him and sat in the chair beside the bed. “She’s putting dinner on the table.” Seeing Bandit eyeing Colt’s dinner, Helen asked, “Should I get a plate for him? It doesn’t look like he’s ever going to leave your side.”

“He can have some of mine.” Slicing off a big piece of his beef, he offered it to Bandit and watched him swallow it in one gulp. Since Victoria was downstairs, he thought it was an opportune time to talk to Helen. “Why do you think she won’t agree to marry me?”

Helen considered what Victoria had told them about her past, and while she understood the reasoning behind her reluctance to marry Colt, she disagreed with her thinking. “I think she feels that you might regret the decision if her past should ever cause you problems. I tried talking to her while we prepared dinner, but I don’t think she heard a word I said.”

Colt had always valued Helen’s opinion. “I don’t know why she thinks anyone would hold her past against her, or why it would cause me problems.”

“That girl loves you, Colt. She wouldn’t want anyone to think less of you because of her. I think people have been cruel to her because of her circumstances when she was a young girl. She is fearful that you would defend her if anyone insulted her and she doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”

He was almost offended. “You mean she doesn’t think I could handle any man who insulted my wife?”

She leaned over and patted his cheek, much the way a grandmother would do. “Now don’t get your dander up, she’s just afraid you might get hurt. And stop worrying. You will have tonight to work on her. I told her I was too tired to stay up tonight, and she wanted to stay.”

Colt smiled. “You’re as devious as Mrs. Wellington. I’ll do my best.”

“The boys want to come up to see you before they leave.” Helen opened the door and the boys were standing there waiting. “Speak of the devils.”

“Come on in, boys.” Colt patted the side of the bed and they piled on.

They leaned over Colt’s legs to pet Bandit. “We’re real happy you didn’t die. We didn’t want you to be an angel,” Cody said, and Cade added, “Yeah.”

“I’m relieved to hear you’re happy about that.” Colt chuckled, thinking to himself that he could get used to this; the boys and Bandit in his bed. Now all he needed was Victoria in there with them.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“I heard McBride is still alive,” Wallace told Hoyt Nelson.

Hoyt stopped saddling his horse and turned to face Wallace. “Who told you that?”

“I heard it from that old woman at the Barlow farm. I thought you said he was dead.”

“I got a good shot at him. I didn’t check to see if he was still breathing,” he said defensively. “I was in a hurry to get out of there.”

“You told me you killed his foreman, but it was some kid that worked for him,” Wallace added.

That piece of information didn’t move Hoyt one way or the other. “You want me to finish the job on McBride?”

“No, I have another plan. Laid up like he is, he won’t be in the way.”

Riding in like the devil was on his heels, Bartholomew pulled the buckboard to a halt in front of Colt’s house. Before he could knock, Helen opened the door. “I heard you coming. Why are you running those horses so hard?”

“I need to see Victoria.”

“She’s in the kitchen. I thought you were bringing everyone back for dinner tonight.”

Not taking the time to explain, Bartholomew hustled to the kitchen.

Victoria had her hands in dough when Bartholomew walked in the kitchen. “Oh, you’re early. Let me guess, the boys were driving you crazy to get here to see Colt.” When he didn’t respond, Victoria looked at him and immediately knew there was a problem. “What’s wrong?”