Promises Kept (22 page)

“This country is simply beautiful!” she exclaimed, fairly crushing Victoria in her excitement. “I must confess that I have been as excited as the boys! God has truly blessed me.”

“Well, ma’am, we’ve sure been looking forward to your arrival,” Bartholomew said, holding his hat in his hand.

Not a man to speak more than necessary, Victoria was surprised at Bartholomew’s reaction to Mrs. Wellington. She’d noticed he was particularly well-groomed today, every strand of his usually wild white hair in place. She thought his shirt was new too, and he had even polished his boots. Amazing. When he’d asked some questions about Mrs. Wellington, she assumed it was just natural curiosity. But she was beginning to think he might have another motive for his interest. Perhaps Bartholomew was looking for a wife.

“Are we really going to live here?” Cody asked, jumping up and down.

Smiling, Victoria gathered both boys in her arms again. She pulled back far enough to see their eyes, huge with excitement. “We really are. We have our own home now.” She was so glad to see them she found herself near tears. Tonight the farm would truly feel like home with the boys there.

“Does that mean we will have a pa, too?” Cade chimed in.

“What? Well . . .” Victoria was at a loss how to respond, wondering where in the world they had gotten that notion in their heads. Fortunately, she had a surprise for them to redirect their attention. “We have a dog. His name is Bandit and he loves to play.”

“A dog!” They both hugged her neck. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“How can you tell them apart?” Bartholomew asked, looking from one towheaded boy to the other and seeing no discernible difference.

“I’m Cody.” “I’m Cade,” they replied in unison.

Bartholomew chuckled. “That clears it up.”

Understanding his confusion, Mrs. Wellington said, “It took me forever to tell them apart. It’s just a matter of learning the little things that they do.”

The boys grinned at each other, knowing they fooled Mrs. Wellington all of the time.

“Yes, ma’am, I guess it will take some time at that.” Bartholomew picked up some of the luggage the driver had placed beside them.

“Bartholomew, please call me Pearl,” Mrs. Wellington urged.

Victoria wasn’t sure, but she thought Bartholomew was blushing as he headed toward the buckboard.

Seeing the many pieces of luggage, Victoria thought Mrs. Wellington must be planning to stay a long time. “Boys, let’s help Bartholomew put the luggage in the buckboard,” Victoria urged. “I’m sure Mrs. Wellington will be anxious to get to the farm so she can relax.”

“I wish you would call me Pearl too, dear,” Mrs. Wellington said.

“I’ll try,” Victoria promised. Mrs. Wellington had asked her before to call her by her given name, but she thought the boys would imitate her.

Mrs. Wellington squeezed Victoria’s hand. “I simply cannot wait to see your new farm. We have so much to talk about over a nice cup of tea. I brought some tea with me. Oh, how I’ve missed your desserts with my tea. Though I have lost several pounds since you’ve been gone.”

Eyeing her soft pink traveling suit, Victoria thought she did look considerably thinner and younger. “You look lovely.” She leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I think Bartholomew is smitten.”

“My word! An old woman like me attracting a man?” Mrs. Wellington exclaimed, her face turning as pink as her suit.

“You are not old! How many women could travel across country with two young active boys? And look at you! No one would ever guess you’ve been on a stagecoach for days.”

A glimmer of tears misted Mrs. Wellington’s eyes. “My dear, it has been a true adventure. I have you to thank for allowing me to bring the boys to you. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun. That boardinghouse has been both a curse and a blessing, and I fear I’ve hidden out there too long. Until this trip, I had forgotten how to enjoy life. I feel as though my spirit has been renewed.”

“Oh, Mrs. Wellington, I should be thanking you. You have done so much for me and the boys that I could never repay you.” More than anything Victoria wanted to confess all of her lies to her.

“Nonsense! You and the boys are my family. I’ve fallen in love with this wild country on our trip. If you have no objections I may just stay here permanently. The boardinghouse would be frightfully lonely without the three of you.”

Victoria squeezed her hand. “It is so good to have you here. I do hope you decide to stay . . . that would be wonderful. Please do not expect anything as grand as your home. Mr. Barlow and Bartholomew were the only two on the farm, and they had no time for frills. It’s quite utilitarian, but it is clean, and the views are stunning.”

“I know it will be perfect,” Mrs. Wellington assured her.

The boys resumed asking questions, and it seemed they had stored up thousands on the journey to Promise. They were so excited they could hardly contain themselves, and by the time they arrived at the farm, Victoria was worn out. She marveled at Mrs. Wellington’s fortitude on the trip. “Were they like this the whole trip?”

Mrs. Wellington laughed. “Oh my, yes, they chattered like magpies the entire trip. It was question after question. They should sleep for a month once they get settled in.”

Gage Hardy was leaving the general store when he spotted Victoria. That old man was with her and they looked like they were waiting for the stage. He previously thought it was a waste of his time when Wallace sent him to town to fetch supplies, but he was now grateful. With that old man by her side he couldn’t go over there and talk to her. Unconcerned with Wallace’s directive that he come right back to the ranch, he took a seat in front of the store. There was no way he would be leaving before he saw who she was meeting on that stage. Then a thought gripped him, sending a wave of anticipation through him. What if she was getting on that stage to leave? The thought energized him. He would just mount up and follow her to her destination. If she landed someplace new, she wouldn’t have any defenders like that big cowboy last night. Before McBride came along, he’d planned on talking to her last night. Even at a distance in the dark, he knew it was McBride by his size. That man had a habit of showing up at the most inopportune times.

Hardy propped his boots on the rail, but before he got comfortable he heard the stagecoach coming down the road. He couldn’t believe his eyes when two blond boys jumped out of the coach and ran to Delilah. There was no doubt in his mind these were the same two boys from that Abilene saloon. Even at a distance he could tell they were twins, and they were about the right age. After the fire at the Lucky Slipper, he’d heard the boys were missing, the same day Delilah disappeared. Everyone speculated that Kitten took them to an orphanage, since that had been her plan. Others speculated that they all died in the fire, as unidentifiable remains had been found in the saloon after the fire burned out. There had also been talk that Ruby and Kitten were suspected of starting that fire. He didn’t give much credence to the gossip back then because all he cared about was Delilah’s disappearance. He never believed she died in the fire.

An older woman was traveling with the boys. It definitely wasn’t their mother, Kitten. What was Delilah’s game? She’d changed her name and pretended she didn’t recognize him. Now she had those two boys with her. He didn’t know what she was up to, but he was going to find out. If it hadn’t been for that cowboy last night, he might have had some answers. What if she was the one who burned down that saloon? He looked hard at the older woman. She didn’t look familiar, and he prided himself on his memory. If anyone knew Delilah’s secrets, it had to be that old woman. He smiled. Delilah might decide to be real friendly to protect her secrets.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Some of the boys were met with gunfire when they moved the cattle to the river,” T. J. told Colt, meeting him at the back door as he was washing before going inside for dinner.

“Wallace’s men?”

T. J. shrugged. “The cattle scattered in every direction, and the boys took off after them. They didn’t have time to chase the culprits down. I came back for more men.”

“We know it was his men.” Colt grabbed his hat and headed for the stable.

T. J. followed him, motioning for some men to mount up and ride with them.

Tate heard the conversation and came running out the door. “I want to ride with you.” He didn’t want to stay at the ranch like an old woman if there was going to be a confrontation with Wallace.

“Not this time. Colt doesn’t need to be worrying about you on top of everything else,” T. J. answered.

Tate wanted to argue, but the men were already riding away.

“Why don’t you rustle up some food and keep the coffee hot?” T. J. suggested.

Dismounting in front of Wallace’s home, Colt told his men to stay in the saddle while he barged up to the front porch and started banging on the front door.

One of Wallace’s servants opened the door, and Colt said, “I want to see Wallace.”

“Señor Wallace is having dinner,” she replied.

Seeing she made no move to tell Wallace he was there, Colt figured she was either afraid or had been instructed not to interrupt him. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He turned to his men. “Wait here.” He nodded to the woman, but walked around her and stormed down the long foyer. He’d been in Wallace’s house before, so he knew his way to the dining room. Shoving open the large double doors, Colt stormed through and all conversation at the table came to an abrupt halt.

Wallace jumped up, dropping his fork in the process. In the silence of the room it sounded like a loud cannon going off when it hit the floor. “McBride, what is the meaning of this?”

The Mexican woman appeared at the door. “Señor Wallace,
lo siento—”
She stopped when Wallace signaled for her to leave.

Colt took in the scene before him. Victoria was sitting next to Wallace at the far end of the table with her two boys sitting beside her. Mrs. Wellington was sitting across from her. “Aw, hell,” he muttered.
I forgot about her boys arriving. She sure as hell didn’t waste any time bringing them over to Wallace’s.
That thought made him even angrier. Everyone was staring at him in wide-eyed disbelief
.
In fact, everyone but Wallace looked scared to death, and he was the one who should be afraid.

In two strides Colt stopped at the end of the table, his spurs clinking loudly on the wooden floor. “My men were shot at today driving cattle to the river.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Wallace demanded.

“You know it was your men doing the shooting.”

“I know nothing of the sort,” Wallace countered.

Colt glared at him. He wanted to take him by the seat of the pants and run his smug face down the length of that long table. “Then I’ll put it this way: I know it was your men doing the shooting.”

“If you had proof of anything you would be at the sheriff’s.”

“That wouldn’t do me much good, would it?” Colt barked.

Wallace waved his arm like he was brushing him aside. “You’ve interrupted our dinner long enough. Now please show yourself out before I call my men to throw you out.”

Ignoring his dismissal, Colt stalked around the table toward him. He glanced at Victoria. “I’m sorry I’ve interrupted your fine dinner, Miss Eastman,” he snapped.

Victoria stared at him in disbelief. His anger was palpable, and the murderous rage in his cold, dark eyes truly frightened her. She thought he looked like the evil avenging angel. She stood and moved between the boys, pulling them to her as if she needed to protect them from him.

Colt saw her move and that brought him up short. Did she think he would actually do her boys harm? He forced himself to calm down before he did something really rash. He stopped a foot from Wallace and lowered his voice. “That’s how you do things, isn’t it, Wallace? Call your men to do your dirty work. Well, you’d best call every hired gun on this place, because that’s what it’s going to take if I decide to wipe the floor with your sorry ass.”

Seeing the lethal look in Colt’s eyes, Wallace sputtered, “This is neither the time nor the place. See here, you are frightening my guests.”

Colt did feel bad about that. On the other hand, if Victoria wanted to be around Wallace she needed to know the kind of man she was involved with. Now was as good a time as any to see what she was getting. “Consider this my last warning. This is going to stop now, or you will be seeing me again. And guests or no guests, you’d best be wearing a gun.” As he turned to leave, he reached up and tipped his hat to Mrs. Wellington.

“You can’t come into a man’s home and threaten him,” Wallace yelled bravely to Colt’s back.

Turning around, Colt zeroed those satanic eyes on him. “It’s not a threat,” he promised in a low growl. He walked out at a leisurely pace with five sets of eyes glued to his back as the sound of his spurs echoed down the long hallway.

Wallace returned to his chair, his face flaming with anger. Colt McBride was going to pay for embarrassing him in front of his guests. “Sorry for the rude interruption. Let’s enjoy the remainder of our dinner, shall we?” He called to the old woman to bring him more silverware.