Promises to Keep (5 page)

All one had to do was read a road map of Wyoming and the spirit of the state became clear. Julie was fascinated by the place names on the map Garth had tossed into her lap when they'd left Green River, asking her to be navigator and chart their course to Kemmerer.

The rivers for instance. Not only were their names descriptive of their courses and character, they were poetic as well.

Here was the Powder River, which was synonymous with the Old West. There were the Sweetwater and the Bitter, the Yellowstone and the Snake. Here was the Platte, reputed to be too yellow to drink and too thin to paint with. But of them all her favorite was the Wind River. Surely it must be as powerful and persevering as its namesake. It must be a stream that was tireless enough to carve great chasms through solid stone. A stream that was changeable; by turns swift-flowing or gentle. Fickle enough to suddenly change its name and become the Big Horn.

Some of the names of the towns might reflect the attitude of their pioneer settlers toward them. Here was Dull Center and only thirty miles away was a town named Bright, perhaps in honor of the governor who was instrumental in legislating the vote for women. There were Superior and Freedom—and Goose Egg.

At the end of a back road in the middle of nowhere was a town called Halfway. Halfway to where? she wondered. To heaven? To civilization? To Oregon perhaps?

There was Hole in the Wall, a reminder of outlaw gangs and posses, of ambush and lynch law. And how could one see the words
Alkali Flat and not
feel the harshness of the place?

The Indian names were particularly colorful. Medicine Bow and Spotted Horse, Ten Sleep and Sundance—each of these names must be worth at least a thousand pictures.

There was Hell's Half Acre and Paradise Valley, and Julie thought that these two names illustrated the violent diversity of this land; it might well serve as a caldron in nature's laboratory, so infinite was its variety. From its snow-capped mountain ranges to the canyons and dry washes of its badlands, from the rich grasslands of its prairies to the arid sage of its deserts, it was tempered by the glaring heat of summer and by winter's arctic chill and, except for an ocean, there was at least one of everything here.

She felt an affinity for its unyielding terrain. In fact, when they'd driven away from the hospital this morning, she'd been so intrigued by it that she hadn't immediately noticed that they were traveling in a direction that took them away from the airport at Rock Springs. It was not until Garth pulled into the parking lot of a general store that she'd realized that fact.

"Why are we stopping here?" she asked.

"You'll need some clothes," Garth replied. "I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner, or I'd have brought some of your things with me."

"Surely that's not necessary just for the flight home!"

"We're not going home for a while," he countered as he ushered her into the building. "We're going to take some time together to become reacquainted. I thought we'd head for Jackson Hole for a few days. There's someone there I'd like to see."

Her step faltered and her eyes were wide with astonishment as she looked up at him. "But, Garth—"

"Don't argue, Julie," he said firmly. "Trust me."

She had. As he had advised, she selected some jeans and shirts, several changes of underwear, a fleece-lined denim vest, and a warm bulky knit sweater. It had been a relief to exchange the ill-fitting sandals for desert boots of glove-soft suede.

She was surprised by Garth's patience as he waited for her to make her choices and try things on in the cluttered stockroom of the store.

At his suggestion she'd included a couple of less casual outfits; the cream-colored pantsuit that she was now wearing and a long dress fashioned of a fine synthetic. It felt wonderfully silky next to her skin, and its splashy print of sunset colors was flattering to her midnight-dark hair and eyes. They even found a handbag and some sandals, which were her size, that she could wear with the dress.

"Is there anything else you need?" Garth asked.

She shook her head doubtfully. "I can't think of anything."

By now she was beginning to feel a bit tired from the emotional upheavals of the morning and the unaccustomed activity of the shopping. Her knees were suddenly too shaky to support her, and she leaned against the counter, watching without participating in the consultation that took place between Garth and the clerk regarding cosmetics and stockings and accessories.

The salesgirl was very attractive in a robust, earthy way. Though she was no more than high school age, she had an aura of sexuality that was unmistakable. With rapidly fading amusement Julie observed that her technique was as well developed as her figure. She practiced her hot-eyed glances and moist-lipped smiles on Garth, fluttering her lashes and walking with a sinuous swing of her hips that was so exaggerated, it would have been comical had it not been so skillfully done.

I'll bet her eyelashes are false
, Julie wagered silently. It made her even more disgruntled than before to have to admit she had sunk to that level of bitchiness, but the girl's blatant seductiveness set her teeth on edge. Garth might not be encouraging the salesgirl's behavior, but he certainly wasn't doing anything to discourage it.

"I'm going to wait in the car," she announced shortly, stalking out of the store before he could stop her.

Though it was early October, the temperature was in the eighties; with the sun beating down, even with the windows open, the inside of the car was stifling. Julie removed her jacket and undid the topmost buttons of her blouse, but all too soon the heat became intolerable.

What was taking Garth so long? she wondered crossly as she climbed out of the car to wander toward the belt of cottonwoods that bordered one side of the parking area. A cooling breeze fanned her flushed cheeks. After the airless interior of the sedan it was delightfully refreshing under the trees.

She found a bench in the shady grove and sat looking at the river. It made a lazy curve around this small peninsula; its waters looked serene and its muddy-green surface was darkened intermittently by the wind. She threw some pebbles in, one by one, and watched the concentric spreading of the ripples.

Downstream, on the far shore, the channel was defined by sheer bluffs that rose a hundred feet or more and flat-topped buttes that assumed a tarnished-copper hue where the sun struck them.

Under the influence of this peaceful scene her mood became more placid as well. She acknowledged that she was jealous and chastised herself for allowing such a trifling incident to bother her. By the time Garth emerged from the store, she was able to respond spontaneously to his smile and say hello to him without sounding peevish.

She saw that he'd gone so far as to buy a zippered duffel bag and have her purchases packed into it for her, and she was touched by his thoughtfulness. She also felt horribly petty.

Blinking rapidly to hold back tears, she said miserably, "You think of everything."

"I try to," he returned cheerfully. As if she needed proof that nothing was too trivial to escape his notice, he added, "You're not crying, are you?"

"Of course not. It's only that the sun was in my eyes."

Though he nodded judiciously, his knowing look told her she hadn't succeeded in misleading him. "Thank you for the clothes and everything," she said in a chastened voice as he turned onto the highway. His careless shrug dismissed the issue of being of no consequence.

Before they left Green River, they stopped at a small cafe for lunch. In the booth next to theirs was a family with two small daughters, perhaps three and six years old. Both of these junior sirens were captivated by Garth, but because Julie had her back to them she didn't realize they were flirting with him until she overheard their mother scolding them for their rudeness in staring. Though it had earned them their mother's disapproval, they persisted, and as she and Garth waited for their order and ate the meal, Julie was amazed to see that the unblinking attention of the little girls had rattled Garth, where the more adult techniques of Miss McKenna, Mrs. Jenkins, and the salesgirl had failed to do so.

He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, repeatedly checked his wristwatch, and hurried her through her own lunch. She was so rushed, she burned her mouth trying to gulp down her tea and finally, as a concession to him, she left it half finished.

"What are you grinning about?" he growled as they returned to the car.

She smiled sunnily up at him. "I was just thinking that you have the same effect on females of all ages."

Though Garth failed to appreciate the humor in this, Julie smiled about it again while she nodded drowsily over the road map. Her body was deliciously relaxed, and her mind wandered somewhere in the carefree limbo between sleeping and waking.

She had thought it might make her nervous to ride in a car for the first time since the accident, but Garth was an excellent driver; very smooth, very assured. Since he'd once driven in races, she supposed that was to be expected. She would have to remember to ask him about that sometime soon.

Before they'd left the cafe, he'd slid a cassette into the stereo; she suspected he'd done it to discourage idle conversation. She recognized both the singer and the song. It was strange that she knew James Taylor's voice, that she even knew he was performing a song composed by Carole King, yet she had no memories about herself.

"
Damn
!" Garth suddenly exclaimed, and her head snapped upright. "I thought you were going to navigate," he muttered.. "Wasn't that the interchange we should have taken for Kemmerer?"

Julie was wide-awake now and she turned to look through the rear window in time to see the directional signs for the eastbound traffic.

"I'm afraid it was," she admitted timorously.

His scowl became more pronounced. "How far is it to the next exit?"

Hurriedly she checked the map. Her spirits rose when she saw it was only a short distance. "About five miles," she replied. "And there's a service road that cuts across to Highway 30, so we don't have to go too far out of our way."

He nodded. "Go back to sleep," he said brusquely. "We'll stop in Kemmerer if we can find a place to stay for the night."

"I thought you planned to drive straight through to Jackson Hole today."

"I had intended to, but you've done enough for your first day out of the hospital."

"You needn't stop on my account," she said stiffly.

"Are you so anxious to get to Jackson Hole that you can't wait till tomorrow?"

"N-no." She was startled by his coldness. Her offense in falling asleep hardly warranted his taking that attitude with her. She shook her head uncertainly and asked, "Why should I be?
How
could I be? Is that where I was going before the accident?"

"I'm not sure."

"But
you
believe that's where I was going."

"It's a possibility."

She ignored the warning of his thinly compressed mouth and doggedly pursued the issue. "You said there's someone you want to see in Jackson Hole. Who is it?"

"Will you please just leave it alone and
go back to sleep
," he repeated roughly.

"Not till you answer me!" she exclaimed heatedly. "If it concerns me, I have a right to know."

Garth sighed. "I suppose you have a point there," he acknowledged.

They were approaching the interchange and he pulled into the exit lane. Though his eyes were trained on the road ahead, it was obvious he was brooding over the answer he should give her. In spite of this, through years of training and habit, his hands were easy in their grip on the wheel.

It was not until they reached the stop sign at the junction of the secondary road with the highway to Kemmerer that he said, "We're going to see a man by the name of Daniel Leeds."

"Daniel Leeds?" Julie echoed woodenly. "The name by itself means nothing to me." After a tense silence she asked, "Is he a friend of mine?"

"You might say that," Garth replied sardonically. His eyes flicked over her, gray and icy. "You might even say he's a
very
good friend." He looked first to the right, then to the left to check for oncoming traffic, and the car swayed giddily as he gunned the motor and made the left turn onto Highway 30. "You might even say," he concluded crisply, "that you're in love with Daniel Leeds."

"No," she whispered. "That's impossible." Though she'd barely breathed the denial, inside she was screaming it.

She stared at Garth, staggered by the implications of his accusation. She felt winded, as if she'd sustained a blow to the solar plexus, and the bitter taste of bile filled her mouth. Breathing deeply through slightly parted lips, she fought to suppress the sensation of nausea.

The tautness of Garth's profile, the hard thrust of his jaw, were grim reminders of his pride. A man who was so fiercely proud must have a compelling reason before he would seriously entertain the idea that his wife was in love with another man. But whatever the reason, he was mistaken. He had to be.

She could not have married Garth unless she loved him. Though she had no recollection of her life before the accident, she sensed certain things about the kind of person she was and she was convinced she could never marry one man if she were in love with another one. It couldn't be true. Oh, God, she silently prayed. Don't let it be true.

"I assume you have some evidence to support your theory." She was surprised by the calmness of her voice as she challenged him. "Would you care to enlighten me?"

"Not particularly," he replied evenly. "I think I've already said too much."

Her hands were knotted so tightly that her nails bit into the softness of her palms. "You can't make an allegation like that and then refuse to discuss it! I have a right to defend myself."

"Granted. But at the moment you've had about all you can take." He glanced quickly toward her. "You're so tired that you're shaking like a leaf and you're white as a ghost."

"That's not from tiredness! It's because I'm so blasted angry!" She was also perilously close to tears.