Promises Linger (Promise Series) Read online

  He smiled at her hearing that “but” when he hadn’t really meant her to. He took the gun from her hand, noticing what a little bit of a thing she was now that he was close. Her head barely reached his collarbone.

  “Now, it appears the good Lord’s working on one of those miracles I’ve heard tell of, but, before we shake on this deal, there are a few things you’ve got to understand.” He uncocked the gun and emptied the chamber, using his side vision to keep tabs on her expression. “First, trouble has a way of following me.”

  The corners of her lips lifted in a hint of a smile. “It doesn’t exactly go out of its way to miss me.”

  He looked at her shiner and the situation she was in. “You got a point there.” He handed the gun and bullets back to its owner.

  Brent obviously felt he’d been quiet long enough. He made to get up. “As touching as I find this moment, wife, you can’t give away what’s not yours.”

  Brent got to his knees. This close, it was impossible for Asa to miss Elizabeth’s slight start.

  With his foot, Asa shoved the man back down. “Shut up.”

  He slid his gloved finger under Elizabeth’s chin and turned her gaze to his. “Second, what’s mine, stays mine.”

  “I won’t take the Rocking C from you as long as you do your best by it.”

  He smiled. She was a determined little thing. “Fair enough.”

  “Third,” he gently traced the bruise around her right eye, “I take care of my own.”

  She had nothing to say to that.

  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked quietly, wishing he weren’t wearing gloves so he could feel the texture of her skin, memorize it the way he’d already memorized her scent.

  “No.” Her gaze didn’t leave his. Her pupils were large, nearly swallowing the green. Her breath hitched in her throat when he slid one finger down her cheek and traced the delicate underside of her chin.

  “Good. Go wait for me outside the door.”

  Her gaze slid to his table where one of the saloon girls had taken a seat. “Why?”

  “I thought you promised me obedience?” She opened her mouth and then closed it. Taking her shoulders, he turned her in the direction of the door. “Wait for me outside.”

  With her pride draped like a shield around her, she did as ordered. She made it as far as the door before balking. “You’re taking the job?”

  Asa couldn’t see her face, but he bet her expression was still blank. “I’m marrying you,” he replied. “Just as soon as I finish a little business here.”

  There was a pregnant pause. “Can I wait for you at the mercantile?”

  “Outside the door will be fine.”

  He knew she was wondering as she walked into the sunlight if this was a test. He knew she was braced to have her pride ground into the dust. What she didn’t know was that he’d dreamed his whole life of a home of his own, a lady for a wife, and the respect that came with both. He had no intention of tempting fate by mistreating either.

  He pulled off his gloves, rolled up his cuffs, turned to Brent, and smiled.

  Despite the fact that he’d ordered her to stay put, Asa was surprised to find Elizabeth waiting for him outside the saloon door. The fact that she was on the receiving end of quite a few scandalized looks didn’t show in her expression. Nothing did. She was in full control of her composure. A fact that irritated Asa to no end. No woman should have such control. It was downright unnatural. He rolled down the cuffs of his sleeve.

  “Thank you for waiting.”

  “It’s what you told me to do.”

  He cast her a considering glance. “Yeah. It was.”

  He wondered if she intended to be this obedient in bed. It was an intriguing thought. Almost as intriguing as having a lady in his bed. He held out his arm. “Ready to head out?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, she slipped her hand in the crook of his arm. “Where are we going?”

  “Depends.” He tucked her in close, ignoring her effort to keep a distance.

  “On what?”

  “Where’s the nearest yahoo that can marry us nice, tight and legal?”

  “I heard Judge Carlson will be over in River’s Bend tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Then River’s Bend it is.” He looked down at the top of her head, noticing a few tendrils of hair escaping her bun. They had a tendency to curl. “Where’d you leave your buckboard?”

  “At the livery.”

  “Then the livery it is.” Since the livery was two blocks down at the edge of town, he didn’t alter their course.

  Her gloved fingers grazed the bruised knuckles of his left hand. “Thank you.”

  He slid his free hand over hers before it could escape. “I may not know much about being a family man, but there’s one thing you won’t have to worry about.”

  Her “What?” was soft, almost shy. He wondered if she was embarrassed to be seen with him, or if she was regretting their deal already.

  He looked down again, but he was still talking to the top of her head. “Being manhandled by strange men. I know how to take care of my own.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  He’d been expecting a little more enthusiasm for his declaration. The woman made no sense, but since she was giving him the things he’d always wanted in life, he supposed he could allow her a few oddities. Things could have been worse. She could have been the hysterical type.

  A fly landed on his cheek and he brushed it aside. Elizabeth flinched and he wondered if she’d truly believed him when he’d told her he’d take care of her. He did an inventory of what he could see. The hand on his arm was shaking, he realized, with tiny, nearly imperceptible tremors.

  His free hand brushed his leg as he stepped around an oncoming woman with children. The calluses on his fingers scraped across the cotton of his blue denim pants, bringing to mind their differences. He supposed he couldn’t blame her for worrying. There wasn’t that much of her to go around and, from the looks of things, her first wedding night had given her cause to be cautious. He opened his mouth to launch another assault on her fears when she forestalled him with a proper, “Excuse me.”

  He stepped off the end of the wooden sidewalk. Turning, he held out his hand to help her down. The gloved fingers that rested in his were trembling. A quick glance at her face revealed it was as white as a sheet. “Are you all right?”

  “Could we get off the street?”

  It might have been his imagination, but he thought her grip a little desperate. He looked around. “The alley’s deserted,” he pointed out dubiously.

  “That’ll be fine.”

  “If you say so.” He’d never escorted a lady into an alley before, but there was always a first time for everything.

  As soon as the buildings blocked out the bright sun, the tremors in her hands spread to her body. “Are we alone?”

  “Yes.”

  The tremors grew to shudders and her teeth clattered so hard they nipped the end off every word. “Are you sure no one can see?”

  He wondered if she were given to fits. “The only company we’ve got are a couple of cats and they’re too busy to pay us much mind.”

  “Good,” she sighed, closing her eyes.

  “Are you all right?”

  She collapsed against him. He looked into her waxen features. He guessed he could take a dead faint as an answer to his question.

  Chapter Two

  For the space of two heartbeats, Asa debated what to do with the woman in his arms. His hotel was just across the street. In a matter of steps, he could drop her on the bright red velvet couch in the parlor and wash his hands of the whole mess. That was, if he could make it across the busy street without attracting attention. He had a better chance of skinning a live polecat.

  “Are you sure no one can see?”

  The question echoed in his head. Every syllable replicated right down to the stilted note with which it had ended.

  He sighed, shifted Elizabeth in his arm
s, and knew he wasn’t going to make a spectacle of her. A man owed his future wife that much consideration. That still left him with the burning question of what he was going to do with her.

  A window rasped open above them. It was the only warning he had before the contents of a chamber pot hurtled down on the spot where he’d just been standing.

  “Jumping Jehoshaphat!” he swore, shaking refuse off the heel of his boot. He glared at his unconscious wife-to-be. “These are brand new boots, woman. If you think I’m going to stand here all day, providing target practice for the folks living upstairs, you’ve got another think coming. Wake up!”

  Elizabeth did absolutely nothing of the sort. Asa snorted in disgust.

  “If this is an example of your obedience,” he muttered, slinging her over one shoulder, “I’d sure hate to see your idea of acting up.” He strode to an overturned crate. A quick glance up revealed no treacherous windows above. With a nudge of his boot, he chased off the amorous cats. The male hissed and arched his back as he retreated. Asa grunted right back.

  “Get used to it. Life is damned inconvenient.” He dumped Elizabeth on the crate. She lolled to one side and would have fallen if he hadn’t set his foot on the crate to stop her tumble. “Especially when there’s a woman involved.”

  He studied Elizabeth as she sat half-draped over his thigh. Her features were even, generous. Her lashes looked incredibly long against her cheeks. Her nose wasn’t some puny thing that made a man wonder how she’d breathe in a dust storm, but rather a straight complement to her high cheekbones and pointed chin. He touched his finger to a freckle on the bridge of her nose. Yup. The woman’s face definitely trotted side by side with her personality. More interesting than beautiful, but, even in a faint, strong and in control.

  He frowned as he realized he’d seen the look before. He’d seen it on men who operated on the wrong side of the law. Men who couldn’t afford to let their guard down. He’d never seen it on a woman. It was disconcerting and raised all sorts of hell with his soft side.

  She sighed, her breath racing up his thigh and rustling the fringe on his buckskin shirt. His lips twisted as his body responded with understandable eagerness. It’d been a long dry spell between women, and if Elizabeth Coyote were a saloon girl, he’d have all kinds of interesting suggestions for her upon awakening. But she wasn’t. His gaze fell to the brooch pinning the lace scarf high on her throat.

  She was a lady. The lady who was going to give him everything he’d spent his life dreaming, scraping and fighting for. All because he’d been in the right place at the right time, with a reputation puffed up enough to set her fears to rest. He shook his head at the workings of fate, and maneuvered her so that, when she woke up, her cheek would be resting against his shoulder rather than his thigh.

  Elizabeth came to as abruptly as she’d succumbed. It was always that way after her nerves gave out. Sometimes she swore determination alone carried her through when fear said curl up and surrender, but, once the crisis passed, all the will in the world couldn’t keep her upright. Light turned to darkness and she dropped like a felled ox. Or so she’d been told. She was spared remembering that, but she was never spared the waking and the embarrassment accompanying it. Like now. Through long practice, she held herself still, straining with her senses to make out the situation before she opened her eyes and pretense faded to reality.

  There was warmth under her cheek and the strong odors of smoke, stale liquor, cheap perfume and male. Of the smells, the last was the least offensive. The steady thump of a heart beneath her ear confirmed what she already knew. She was in a man’s arms. Asa MacIntyre’s arms. The man she’d asked to marry her on nothing more than a reputation and one act of kindness to a little boy. Lord! She wished she could keep her eyes closed forever.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  The question startled her into opening her eyes, rumbling as it did out of his broad chest that seemed to stretch forever. “Yes. Thank you.” When she pressed to get away, his big hand curled tight over her shoulder, keeping her still. As if her wishes were of no matter.

  “I’d rest a might easier if you’d just set a spell.”

  “I’m fine, Mr. MacIntyre.”

  “Pardon me if I’m not reassured, seeing as not more than three minutes ago you dropped like a log.”

  “I’m sorry for that, but I assure you, I’m fine now.” She pushed a little and managed to get upright, but not out of his reach. She set her teeth against the quiver of anger that started deep within. A quiver that renewed itself when she realized that little bit of freedom had been attained only because Asa MacIntyre wanted to see her expression. His finger slid under her chin, forcing her gaze to his.

  “Has this happened to you before?” he asked.

  “Once or twice.” Whenever she had to screw her courage to the sticking point to get a job done.

  “You sick or something?”

  “I am in perfect health. You won’t find yourself encumbered with an ailing wife.”

  “Encumbered?”

  “Burdened.”

  “Oh.”

  She leaned further back, searching his expression. He couldn’t want a sickly wife, could he? “You don’t sound relieved.”

  She felt his shrug all through her body. “Are you given to fits often?”

  “I’ve never had a fit in my entire life!”

  “No need to get in a huff. I was just checking the lay of the land. A man has to know what to expect.”

  “And if I were the sort ‘given to fits’? Would you still marry me?”

  “Yup. I’d just have to run things a might different.”

  One glance at his rugged face and she knew he was serious, but she asked anyway. “Do you really mean that?”

  “It’s not often I say what I don’t mean.”

  “Even if I were frothing-at-the-mouth mad, dropping like a young girl’s hanky all over the place, you’d still marry me?”

  A smile tugged at his generous mouth. Looking up, she saw the lines by his storm gray eyes tilted up also. The realization that he was a man given to smiling rather than snarling was unsettling. It didn’t mesh with what she knew of his reputation or of what she knew of men in general.

  “I’d marry you if you had one foot in the mad house and the other on a grease spill.”

  She shifted in his hold to better see his eyes. “Because you want the ranch?”

  “Because I want the ranch.”

  “And what’s yours,” she remembered, “stays yours.”

  His eyes traveled a path from her head to her toes. “Always.”

  She shrugged off her unease. Men were a rutting lot from what she’d seen of her father and the ranch hands. According to her friend, Millie, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She swore there were ways a smart wife could turn a man’s needs to her advantage. Elizabeth intended to be a very smart wife, but whether she managed it or not, in return for the use of her body and three square meals a day, this man was going to keep the land safe for her children. Any way she added it up, she had the better of the exchange.

  “I think,” she said, looking into his eyes and ignoring the frown on his face, “that you and I are going to deal very well together.”

  “Seeing as how we’re planning on double teaming for life, I’d hope so.”

  “Double teaming?”

  “Getting married.”

  “Oh.”

  He smiled. She was relieved to note his teeth were clean and strong.

  “Of course,” he went on, exposing those teeth in a charming smile that chased the severity from his features. “I expect we’ll have a spot of trouble or two until we learn each other’s lingo, but I don’t expect much, seeing as how we’re set on the same path.”

  “Keeping the ranch,” she confirmed, blowing a tendril of hair off her forehead. It immediately settled on her eyelid.

  “That, too.”

  She didn’t want to know what he meant by that. No doubt it had someth
ing to do with his ridiculous desire to have a lady for a wife. The man seemed content that she was the lady of his dreams, handing him all his wishes on a silver platter. Who was she to disabuse him? As long as he didn’t look too deeply or she didn’t slip too obviously, they probably would get along all right.

  “Mr. MacIntyre?”

  His finger twirled irritatingly around a stray curl. He twisted it completely into obedience before he answered, “Yeah?”

  “It’s not seemly for you to be holding me this way.”

  “Why? We’re going to be married.”

  She shoved against his chest. “It’s not seemly for married couples to comport themselves this way in public.”

  He allowed her two inches of distance, but she could tell from the way his hand rested on her upper arm he wasn’t allowing much more. She set to work removing his hand.

  “What about in private?”

  She stopped tugging at his fingers. “What?”

  “What about in private? Are married couples permitted to snuggle in private?”

  She succeeded in prying free his pinkie. She immediately set to work on the next digit. “I wouldn’t know.”

  Two fingers down, three more to get to freedom.

  “What about your parents? Did they snuggle now and then?”

  With a yank, hard enough to pop a button on her short jacket, she gained her release. It was galling to know that, even standing when he sat, she wasn’t much more than eye level with her future husband. “My parents were decent proper people and none of your business,” she stated flatly.

  Asa got to his feet, casually brushing the seat of his pants.

  He settled his hat straight on his head. “I was just making conversation. I thought it might be a good idea to know one another before the wedding, but if you want to go to your marriage bed with a stranger, who am I to kick up a fuss?”

  He turned and headed out of the alley.

  “I bet,” she muttered as she hurried to keep up, “it won’t be the first time for you.”

  She didn’t think he’d heard, but as her hand slipped into the crook of the arm he held out, he chiseled her gaze away from a knot hole in the rail three store fronts down by sliding his finger under her chin. “But I bet it will be for you, and that was the whole point.”