Finding Promise Read online

  It was a short day in the saddle, but Jake was as tired of the incessant rain as his men. “Amen. As soon as Harm gets back we’ll stop for the day.”

  “You think they’re going to come back, don’t you?”

  Jake knew Cole was talking about the killers. “Yep. Their kind won’t give up.”

  “Yeah. I just can’t figure out what they want.”

  Knowing Cole would keep the information to himself, Jake shared with him what Shorty had found in the dresses.

  “No wonder they didn’t find what they were looking for. Who would have thought to look in those dresses? That was a smart thing to do.”

  “It sure was. I’ve read some of her journal from the trip, and she mentioned that a few men rode into Dodge for supplies. While they were there, some drifters talked to them in the general store. The next day they saw men on horseback watching them, and her husband said they were the men from Dodge. That was the last thing she wrote.”

  “You’re thinking if they went back to that wagon train after we left, they suspect someone is still alive and may have the valuables.”

  “That’s the way I see it. If the killers were watching them before they attacked, then they knew how many people should be in those graves. There’s one grave short.”

  “She’s going to have a tough time when she comes around,” Cole said.

  “I know.” Just thinking about what he had to tell her when she woke made Jake sad and angry. Somehow he would find out where her family was located in Colorado and make sure she got to them. He wanted to go back to Dodge and track down those killers, but he knew that right now his priority was to protect the woman. But he made a vow to himself that he would find them if it was the last thing he did on this earth.

  Chapter Six

  Shorty had good news for Jake when he rode into camp a few hours later. “I just checked on her and she’s moving.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve had all day. I’ll watch her for a while,” Jake told him. He climbed in the back of the wagon, removed his hat, and sat on the side of her pallet. “Honey, Shorty tells me you moved today. I hope you wake up soon so you can have something to eat. Shorty is a pretty good cook, but don’t tell him I said that.”

  The words had barely left Jake’s mouth when Shorty threw back the canvas opening and popped his head inside with a plate of food in his hand. “I’m more than good! I’m the best dang cook you’ll ever find on a wagon train.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me there.” Jake accepted the plate Shorty shoved at him. “Thanks.” Shorty left and Jake turned back to the woman. “Honey, you need to wake up and have something to eat.” He shoved a spoonful of food in his mouth. “This is real good.” He looked over at her and this time he was certain he saw her eyelids flutter. Placing the plate of food aside, he leaned over her. “Sweetheart, are you awake?” He put his finger to her neck to feel her pulse. “Come on, sweetheart, open your eyes.” There was no question her pulse picked up when he spoke to her.

  Promise heard someone calling her sweetheart. The voice sounded familiar, but she didn’t know why. It was a deep, commanding voice, full of authority. But who was it? It wasn’t . . . who? Why couldn’t she think of anyone? She tried to open her eyes, but she felt so tired she couldn’t seem to manage. Had she been ill? Where was she?

  “Come on, honey, I see your eyes moving,” Jake coaxed.

  Slowly, Promise blinked her eyes open. When she was able to focus, she found herself staring into the black eyes of a stranger calling her sweetheart.

  Jake smiled at her. “Well, hello.” He’d wondered what color her eyes were, and when he finally got to see them he wasn’t disappointed. Just like the rest of her, they were more beautiful than he imagined. They were a warm golden whiskey color and so large they dominated her small face.

  Promise stared at his face. She didn’t think she knew him, because she couldn’t ever imagine forgetting such a formidable man. His darkly tanned face was very masculine with a strong, chiseled jaw, a straight nose, and intense black eyes. His penetrating stare might have been more threatening if not for the unbelievably long, thick lashes. As it was, she couldn’t pull her eyes from his.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  She nodded, and he gently lifted her head with one hand. He didn’t have anything else in the wagon to drink, so he put his cup of coffee to her lips. “Go slow.”

  When she finished, she whispered softly, “Thank you.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “No.” Her voice was raspy, like she hadn’t talked in months. She continued to stare at him. “Who are . . . ?” She was so weak she couldn’t finish her question.

  “I’m Jake McBride. This is my cattle drive, and we’re headed to my ranch in Wyoming.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Right now we are in Indian Territory.” He watched her as she processed that piece of information.

  Her brows knitted together as she tried to remember . . . anything. Why would she be in Indian Territory? “Have I been ill?”

  “You don’t remember what happened to you?” The doctor’s warnings smacked him in the face. He tried to remember how long he said she might not remember things.

  “No . . . I don’t remember.” Her lower lip started to tremble.

  Jake hadn’t wanted to consider the possibility that she would have no memory, and was at a loss how to respond. Considering her weakened condition, he didn’t think it would be wise to mention the wagon train and all the folks that were killed. He’d give her time to regain her strength before he told her about the events of that day. With some luck, her memory might return soon and spare him that decision. “You were injured and I happened to find you. You’ve been unconscious for a few days. I had a doctor from Dodge examine you, and he said you might have some memory loss for a few days.” He made an effort to sound more positive than he actually felt.

  “Dodge.” She repeated the word, but it didn’t sound familiar. “Do you know who I am?”

  Her question threw him. The doctor indicated some people might not remember how they were injured, but he hadn’t mentioned she might not even remember her own name. He kept his surprise to himself, but decided it best to tell the truth. “No, honey, I don’t.” He reached over, picked up her journal and handed it to her. “You had this with you. I admit I looked inside. I wasn’t prying, I was just trying to find out who you are and where you were going. The inside cover says Promise. Does that mean anything to you?”

  Tears filled her eyes as she looked at the book. She shook her head. Nothing was making sense to her. Why couldn’t she remember her own name? Who was she? Was Promise her name? Something about that seemed familiar, but she couldn’t remember why.

  Jake saw tears welling in her eyes. “Now there’s no need to get worried. The doctor said this is a common thing when you’ve suffered a head injury.” He might have made it sound a bit more common than the doctor indicated, but he didn’t want her getting upset. “I was a U.S. Marshal, and we will figure this out. I know you are from back East and headed to Colorado. I just don’t know where in Colorado, and it’s a big place, so I planned to take you to Wyoming with us. I figured that would give you time enough to recover. Then we’ll know where you were headed, and I’ll take you there.” He thought of something that might help her. “Hold on a minute, I’ll be right back.”

  He climbed out of the wagon and raced to the supply wagon. He threw open her trunk and pulled out the drawings. He almost pulled out the oil painting of her husband but changed his mind. He took the drawings back to the wagon. “I found these in a trunk that I think belongs to you.” He opened the folder for her and handed her the first drawing, the one of her horse. He watched her closely as she looked at the drawing.

  She stared at it for a long time, and even ran her fingertips softly over the drawing, almost reverently. Her gaze drifted to him. “Did I do this?”

  “I think you did. In that journal you wrote about drawing
and painting. From what I read, I think that is your horse.”

  “He’s beautiful. Is he here?”

  He should have realized she would ask that question. “No, he wasn’t with you.” He quickly showed her some of the landscape drawings, but nothing jogged her memory. He avoided showing her the drawings of the people on the wagon train. He didn’t know what else to do, so before she could ask more questions, he decided to get some food in her. “I’m going to get you something to eat.”

  She watched as he moved to the opening, taking in every detail of his muscled frame before he deftly jumped from the wagon. It was hard to judge from her position, but he looked quite tall. On his right hip he wore a pistol; on the left, a large, lethal-looking knife was sheathed. He appeared to be a nice man, and since he said he had been a U.S. Marshal, it seemed he would be a good person to trust. She’d obviously been safe with him, and he’d cared for her since . . . since whatever had happened to her. What was her alternative to staying with him? She didn’t know where she would go. Nothing made sense. How could she not know who she was? She tried to keep calm, telling herself it served no purpose to get upset.

  She glanced around the interior of the wagon, and her eyes landed on the dress and undergarments hanging in a corner. Lifting the quilt covering her, she saw she was dressed in a man’s shirt and nothing else. The clothing must belong to her, but who had undressed her? Maybe they had women with them. Or perhaps the doctor undressed her to examine her. She preferred that option to ease her mind. She looked back down at the drawing of the horse. How she wished she had him with her right now.

  As Jake filled a plate of food for her, he made a mental note to tell the men not to mention what had happened to the people on the wagon train, once she was able to leave the wagon. He didn’t see that any good could come of her finding out about that too soon. Juggling the plate, coffee, and water, he hoisted himself back inside the wagon, where he helped Promise into a sitting position. “Do you mind if I call you Promise?”

  “I don’t mind.” She reached up to push her hair out of her face and felt the bandage on her temple. “Did I hit my head?”

  Sitting beside her, Jake held the two cups in the air. “Coffee or water?” He was buying time, trying to figure out the best way to answer her.

  “Water, please.”

  Go with the truth, he told himself. “I think a bullet grazed you.”

  “A bullet?” She looked at him with eyes wide. “Why would someone shoot me?” She dropped her face to her hands. “Nothing makes sense,” she whispered. When she lifted her face, tears were streaming over her cheeks.

  Jake didn’t know what to do, but her tears were breaking his heart. He moved closer and put the plate of food aside so he could pull her into his arms. He couldn’t imagine how frightened she must feel. “Honey, we’ll figure this thing out. Don’t you worry, it will all work out. You’ll be safe with us, and I’ll find out where your family is located.”

  She buried her face in his shirt, terrified, but at the same time thankful this man was so kind to her. “Thank you.”

  He took her chin in his fingers and lifted her face to his. Lord, she was a beauty with those whiskey-colored eyes. “Now you need to eat a little.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try.”

  The only thing he had to offer her to wipe her tears away was the bandanna in his pocket, but it was clean. He fished it out and handed it to her. “Wipe your tears so you won’t ruin Shorty’s food. Shorty is the cook, and he’s also been tending you.”

  Giving him a shaky smile, she did as he requested, and Jake handed her the plate. He pointed to the dress hanging in the corner. “Shorty washed some of your clothes, so they are clean. Your trunk is in the supply wagon, and it’s filled with dresses.” He took a sip of coffee and watched her pick at her food. “When you feel up to it, maybe reading what you wrote might help you remember some things.” Considering what she had written in the journal about her husband, he questioned whether he should have told her to read it right now. But he would have to tell her sometime, and he knew if he were in her position, he’d want to know as much as possible to help sort things out.

  She ate a few bites and drank some water before she set the plate aside. “I thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

  Jake thought her voice was already sounding stronger, and some color was in her cheeks. He realized she probably needed to see to her other needs. “If you need to . . . uh . . . well . . .” Why couldn’t she be a man? This would be a lot easier. He took a deep breath and started again. “If you need to see to your needs, I’ll take you outside.”

  “Thank you. Is there a place where I could wash?”

  He should have realized that would be one of the first things she would want. “I’ll have Shorty warm some water and we’ll bring the tub in here.”

  “I think that would make me feel much better.” She wanted some time alone to think things through.

  Jake left to find Shorty, to tell him to warm the water while he lugged the tub to the wagon. He told Shorty about her lack of memory, and asked him to pass the word among the men that no one should mention the wagon train or the killings.

  A short, wiry little man with a frizz of white hair opened the flap to the wagon and handed some pails of hot water to Jake.

  After Jake introduced him, Shorty said, “If you need anything, ma’am, you just holler for me.”

  “Thank you, sir. And thank you for your care.”

  “Everyone calls me Shorty.” He pointed to the corner of the wagon where he’d put the bars of soap with some of her delicate underthings. “I found the soap in your trunk.”

  Jake and Shorty left the wagon to get the rest of the water. Once they were some distance from the wagon, Shorty turned to Jake. “She’s just about the prettiest thing I ever laid eyes on.”

  “That she is.”

  “Did you hear how she talked? She must be from the South,” Shorty added.

  “Uh-huh.” Jake thought she did have a Southern lilt to her voice.

  “You don’t think you should tell her about her husband?”

  “Not right now. Besides, I’m not positive it was her husband. I figure when she’s had time to get her bearings, and get some of her strength back, I’ll tell her then if she hasn’t remembered.” Silently, he hoped he was making the right decision.

  “That makes sense. It’s gonna be a lot for her to face, however she finds out.”

  Chapter Seven

  Jake was sitting outside the wagon when Promise stuck her head outside. “Mr. McBride?”

  “Right here.” He’d been sitting against the wagon wheel, listening to her splashing in the tub for what seemed like an eternity. He hadn’t even noticed that the rain had slowed to a drizzle. He did notice the fragrance of her soap drifting from the wagon, reminding him how long it had been since he’d seen a woman bathe. The way he saw it, watching a woman attend to her nightly toilette was one of the most exciting ways a man could spend an evening. He’d been lost in his thoughts and didn’t realize she was finished until he heard the flap being tossed open. Jumping up, Jake saw that she was dressed, so he lifted her to the ground.

  She was wearing one of the dresses Shorty had washed for her. He wondered if she would be able to walk with the weight of that dress, she was so weak. “Feel better?” he asked, thinking how good she smelled. He reminded himself of his brother’s dog, Bandit, the way he was sniffing her.

  “Yes, thank you so much. I hate to ask, but would you have a comb? I washed my hair and I’m in need of one.” She pulled her long hair over her shoulder and tried to run her fingers through the wet tangles.

  “I found one that I think is yours. It’s over in the supply wagon, if you feel up to walking with me.” He glanced at her wound and saw how nicely it had healed.

  “I’d like to walk, if it’s not too far.” She lifted her skirt to keep the hem from dragging in the muddy earth.

  “Not far at all.” He took hold of her el
bow and steered her away from the men milling about. He wanted to give her time to get comfortable with her surroundings before she was overloaded with questions and stares from cowboys. They weren’t accustomed to seeing a woman on a cattle drive, and as pretty as she was, she was sure to receive a lot of attention.

  “How did you happen to find me, Mr. McBride?”

  Uh-oh, Jake thought. “I just happened to be riding in that direction,” he responded. He pointed to the cattle grazing in the distance. “Do you think you’ve ever seen a cattle drive?”

  She couldn’t believe the number of cattle. “Oh my! How many cattle do you have, Mr. McBride?”

  “Call me Jake. We’re driving twenty-five hundred head to Wyoming.”

  “Oh mercy, that many?”

  He smiled to himself. She did have a very pronounced Southern accent that he found charming. “Yes, ma’am. If we’re very lucky we will get there with most of them.”

  “How long will it take to get to your ranch?”

  “We should be there sometime in August.”

  “August,” she repeated. Jake caught the look on her face. It seemed like mentioning the month stirred something in her memory. She frowned. “What month is this?”

  That question made him realize the magnitude of her condition. He couldn’t imagine how she felt, being unable to remember anything and at the mercy of complete strangers. “June.”

  Reaching the supply wagon, he opened the flap and pointed to the trunk at the back. “I think that is your trunk.”

  She looked at the trunk, but like everything else, it didn’t seem familiar.

  Shorty came around the corner of the wagon and Jake asked, “Shorty, did you find a comb?”

  “Yessir, I did.” He scrambled into the wagon, opened the trunk and pulled out a brush, comb, and mirror and handed them to Promise.

  She looked at the silver design on the back. It bore the engraved initials PS. An older man’s image flashed before her eyes. He was handing her a wrapped present. Just as quickly as it came, the memory disappeared. It occurred to her she didn’t know what she looked like, so she turned the mirror over to see her reflection.