Promise Me (15 page)

“You're lucky I'm such a poor shot, I was aiming higher.” She rubbed her hands together; they were still stinging from the recoil of the Colt.

“Lucky? You just shot me.” Sam sat down in a chair and looked at his boot, which was leaking blood.

“I wanted to do more damage, but I've never been good with guns. Here Father, you can have me locked up now.” She handed the gun to Father Mikelson and stood patiently, waiting for the sheriff to come and arrest her. Glancing back at Sam with his face contorted in pain, she didn't experience the sense of satisfaction she had imagined she would feel. She'd thought a tiny spike of happiness would follow pulling the trigger. She'd craved revenge, and she should be enjoying it. In fact, watching Sam remove his boot, seeing how much agony it caused him, her head started to ache and the smell of gunpowder, sweat, and stale beer nearly made her gag.

The priest grabbed the gun and scowled at her. “What kind of damned foolishness have you got yourself into here, Amanda?”

Amanda closed her eyes and put her hand to head. “I have a headache, Father. Can we discuss this tomorrow when I make my confession?”

Father Mikelson pointed toward Sam. “Did you say that man has taken advantage of you?”

Amanda groaned, her patience with all men, even those who represented God, nearly at an end.

“That's what I said. He seduced me, Father. Knows me, in the biblical sense. We had carnal relations.” Cold seeped into her bones and her heart thundered. She was out of patience and wanted to shock the old man. “He's been in my bed and we have engaged in fornication!” She took a ragged breath in a futile attempt to regain her composure.

The crowd exploded into loud speculation. Amanda thought this night would never end.

Father Mikelson narrowed his icy blue eyes as he glanced around the saloon. “Quiet,” he boomed again, and the crowd silenced.

“Amanda, you've done some foolish things in the past, but this is beyond my comprehension. I'm just grateful your father isn't here to witness these events.” He drew himself up to his full six feet, three inches of height. “But he expected me to take care of you, to protect you as if you were my own daughter, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.”

“Can't we please talk about this in the morning? Shooting a man is exhausting.” Her legs felt heavy as trees and her teeth were starting to chatter. She turned to leave, deciding she could go to the sheriff herself, perhaps in the morning, after she'd rested a bit.

“Stay here.” The priest demanded, waving his hand at the gathered crowd. “Be silent, the lot of you.” He pointed at Sam. “Are you confessing to fornicating with this woman, outside of the bonds of holy wedlock?”

Sam looked horrified at the question, and Amanda felt the blood drain from her face. Just when she imagined the humiliation couldn't possibly get any worse, by some uncanny force of nature, it did. She wondered if she could wrestle the gun from Father Mikelson so she could shoot herself.

The priest grabbed Amanda by the arm and dragged her to the table where Sam sat. He'd removed his boot and had a dirty, blood-stained cloth wrapped around his foot. Someone had poured him a tall glass of whiskey and left the bottle nearby.

Sam glared at her. “Are you crazy, Amanda? You didn't really have to shoot me.”

Amanda glared back at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Beware a woman scorned. You know the saying, don't you, Sam?”

The priest stood in front of them with arms outstretched.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of these witnesses to...”

Blood turned to ice in Amanda's veins. “What are you doing, Father?” Her words came out in a high-pitched screech.

“I'm performing a marriage, because I feel compelled to bring you two sinners back into the fold. You have both participated in fornication.” He seemed to relish saying the word. “It's my duty to make sure such a sin is purified by the sacrament of marriage.”

“The hell you are.” Sam tried to struggle to his feet, but fell back into the chair.

Amanda turned to race out of the saloon, but found herself in the priest's iron grasp. His face hovered over hers, his cold blue eyes snapping. “I will not have you traveling about the territory a ruined woman, Amanda. You will become this man's wife and behave in a decent manner from now on.”

Amanda tried to pull away. “You can't make me marry him. I won't!” She balled her fists and stomped her foot. “I'm tired of doing what everyone else says I'm supposed to do. I refuse.”

Father Mikelson didn't release her; he simply plopped her down in a chair next to Sam.

“You'll do what I say, and so will he. Or I'll have the law after both of you. There is such a thing as common decency and standards of behavior to consider. I'll haul you both before the justice of the peace. You could go to jail.”

Amanda crossed her arms and turned away from Sam. “I'd rather rot in jail than become his wife.”

“I'd rather hang than become that woman's husband,” Sam snarled.

“Well, if that's the way you want it. Sheriff, get over here.” Father Mikelson waved toward the swinging doors. “Arrest this woman for lewd behavior, and this man for fornication. Slap them both in jail, in fact”—a wicked gleam twinkled in the old man's eyes—“put ‘em in the same cell, then throw away the key.”

Sam and Amanda both turned back to face him. “You can't do this,” she said.

“Put me in jail, but leave her alone,” Sam said. Father Mikelson shook his head. “I can't punish one and not the other, because you know how the old saying goes, it takes two. Justice and grace demand that since you both got yourselves into this mess, you both must perform the penance. The only solution I can see is to marry you to each other. From the looks of things, that should be a satisfactory punishment.”

“That's an idiotic solution.” Amanda stood up. “Let him go, and I'll return to Helena. I'll join the Sisters of Charity and become a nun.”

Sam waved a hand in the air. “Wait, that's not necessary.” He leaned toward Amanda. “Don't do this. You can't lock yourself away from the world forever.”

Amanda glared down at him. “I can't believe you care what happens to me. This is your entire fault in the first place. If you needed money so badly, why didn't you just ask me? I've got more than I'll ever need.”

Sam shook his head. “I'd never take a penny of your money, Amanda. It wasn't about that, not after I met you.” His shoulders stiffened and he raised his chin.

Amanda paced across the room and tried to ignore the staring crowd.

“If I had me a chance to get hitched to Sam Calhoun, I'd do it in a heartbeat, honey,” a blonde with a large bosom urged her. “Shotgun weddin' or no, he's a catch.”

“Marry me instead, widder woman. I'd take care of you.” A grizzled prospector with no front teeth leered at her.

Amanda didn't know what to do. She didn't want to go to jail, and she didn't think she wanted Sam to, either. Her thirst for revenge had slackened, and now she knew they needed some time to talk things over. Her heart ached at the truth of his deception; all her dreams for helping the miners had vanished in one ugly ruse. And her fantasy of building a life with Sam disappeared at the same time. But she also needed to give him a chance to explain why he'd made the bargain with the other mine owners. Despite his confession, she knew deep inside that Sam would never intentionally betray her. Or was that just what she wanted to believe?

She wished she could go to bed and sleep for a few weeks. Maybe she'd find this had been a bad dream, and she'd wake up in Sam's arms in the morning.

More voices joined the melee, some urging her to marry Sam, others telling her to shoot him again, even others offering a different solution. Her head ached and her stomach churned at the combined stench of unwashed bodies, sour beer, and filthy sawdust.

She turned to Father Mikelson. “Can't you give us until tomorrow to work this out? We shouldn't be forced to make this kind of decision under these circumstances.” She nodded at Sam, hoping he'd agree. “It's going to affect the rest of our lives.”

Sam nodded back. “We need to talk, and we can't do it here, Father.” He stood up, grimaced, but managed to step forward. “I give you my pledge of honor I'll make things right with Amanda. I'll do the honorable thing.”

Amanda made a sound of derision and rolled her eyes. “You can certainly trust him, Father. I did.”

Father Mikelson cleared his throat. “I've given it some thought, considered the circumstances, and taken all the particulars into account.”

Amanda held her breath.

“I believe I've made the right decision.”

Amanda gulped, but stood poised for his pronouncement.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together in the sight of these witnesses to join this man and this woman in the state of holy matrimony.”

The floor slipped from beneath Amanda as she fainted.

Chapter Eleven

Sam wiped the sweat from his forehead as he
limped across the street. He stumbled several times, favoring his wounded foot, but he refused to ask for help.

A tight-lipped and pale Amanda walked ahead of him with the priest. They'd passed smelling salts beneath her nose to bring her out of the swoon. She'd been so horrified at the proceedings she'd barely been capable of uttering a word. Her eternal vows to love and obey him were repeated in a hoarse whisper, and then only at the stern insistence of Father Mikelson.

Sam grimaced in pain when he crossed the threshold of the Parmeter House. He found Harriet staring at them from behind the desk. A look of sympathy crossed her face when Amanda passed, but open loathing replaced it when he halted at the bottom of the stairs to take a deep breath.

“I can explain everything,” Sam closed his eyes for a moment, wounded by his friend's apparent disgust with his conduct.

Harriet pursed her lips and glowered. “You don't owe me an explanation, nor any apology.” She pointed toward Amanda. “But you'd better have a powerful good reason for what you did to her.”

Sam trailed up the stairs, favoring his right foot. He understood Amanda's fury and her motive for shooting him. Even if he wasn't responsible for the rumors that had destroyed her good name tonight. The fact that he'd entered into the agreement in the first place proved he was a lying, deceitful bastard. He deserved to be shot, and worse.

It wasn't the shooting he regretted; it was the wedding. By forcing her to become his wife, even through circumstances beyond his control, he knew he'd manipulated her. And the one thing he'd learned about Amanda was how much she despised lies and manipulation.

Father Mikelson conversed with Amanda before opening the door to her room, and Sam tried to avoid eavesdropping.

“I'll deal with this, Amanda. You needn't worry,” the priest promised, before turning his back on her. He seemed surprised to discover Sam standing so close. “I thought we should find someplace a bit more private than the center of a saloon to discuss our business.” There was no sympathy in the older man's eyes, and ice in his tone.

Sam produced a key and unlocked the door next to Amanda's room, then nodded for the priest to enter. Father Mikelson couldn't disguise the look of fury crossing his face as he realized the arrangement. Once inside the room, Sam collapsed on the bed, grateful for the opportunity to finally rest his aching foot. He didn't open his eyes until Father Mikelson cleared his throat. It took all of Sam's self-control to pull himself back up to a sitting position.

Father Mikelson had settled himself into a chair closer to the bed. He knotted his thick eyebrows, and a thin smile revealed several deep dimples in what was still a handsome face. His expression appeared to hold a little compassion, and it shocked Sam. Years of serving as an altar boy had taught him how rigid and uncompromising a man of God could be.

The priest crossed his arms and cleared his throat again.

“I suppose you wonder why I would force Amanda to be married to a man who seduced her then sullied her reputation by boasting about it.”

Sam pulled off his hat and flung it towards the foot of the bed. He slowly combed his hand through his hair. “It has crossed my mind there might be some ulterior motive to your actions. Considering that a lying, dishonest bastard might not be your first choice as a suitable husband for Amanda. Nor hers for that matter.” He narrowed his eyes and gave the priest a hard look. “I never said anything about seducing her, despite what you might think.”

Father Mikelson surprised him with an understanding smile that softened the hard planes of his face somewhat. “Actually, I believe you, Samuel. But I'm hopeful we gave folks a good show tonight.”

Sam couldn't form a response.
Show?
Was this entire ugly incident something Amanda had cooked up to humiliate him? Maybe she wasn't an innocent victim after all.

“I've heard from my contact here that there have been serious threats against Amanda since she arrived in Willow Creek. Apparently you know something about them?” The priest folded his hands into a tent that made him appear to be pausing to pray.