Promise me tomorrow (32 page)

BOOK: Promise me tomorrow
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"I found the dates you left for me on my desk," Chase said, his voice mild.

"Oh good. Are those going to work out all right?"

"They'll be fine. Whose wedding is first?"

"Tibby's. I shouldn't be gone for more than the weekend. In August, however, I'll probably need a little more time. I had a sudden thought this morning. I wondered if it would be possible to take someone with me when I go to Boulder." Rusty's eyes darted down to the little boy with the pocket watch and then back to Chase. As she had hoped, Quintin missed the whole thing.

Rusty watched Chase's brows rise and could tell he liked the idea.

"That would be the August date?"

"Yes. I think he would have a wonderful time with my family."

Chase nodded; he was sure of the fact. However, he said only, "I'll think about it and get back to you."

They finished the meal in relative quiet, and it wasn't long before Chase excused himself and went to work. He was striving desperately for a balance. Early that morning as he'd shaved and dressed, he had been tempted to seek out Quintin and spend the whole day with him, but before he even left his room, he knew that was going too far. He still had business matters to see to, and there would be time later to get to know his son a little better.

Added to this was a deep desire to spend more time with Rusty as well. His new awareness of her could have come at a better time, but he knew he was going to have to find ways to deal with it. A protectiveness toward both of them swelled up so swiftly inside of him that for a moment he sat at his desk and did nothing.

I'm going to lose my mind if I go on this way, Lord. Either I trust You to take care of them or I don't.
Chase was tempted to tell God that he would feel at ease if he only knew how Rusty would welcome his overtures, but he knew better. Trusting meant having a "no matter what" attitude. It wasn't always going to be easy, but he was willing to try. Without warning, Chase remembered the Bible study that Pastor Radke had invited him to join and knew very clearly in his heart that he should. He would talk to the pastor the next time he saw him. Chase spent a few minutes in prayer and then threw himself into his paperwork. It did the trick. Before he knew it, the morning had flown by.

***

"Are you having dessert, Quin? They have chocolate cake."

The little boy shook his head and said honestly, "I'm too full."

"I'm full too," Rusty agreed. She took another sip of her coffee and watched as Mr. McCandles returned to the table. They were dining at the Clausen House, and he had spotted someone with whom he needed to speak and left them for a moment.

"How about dessert?" he asked of Rusty and his son.

Rusty was on the verge of telling him they were too full, but she'd been trying not to talk too much so father and son would have a chance to get to know each other.

"Quintin?" his father pressed.

"I'm full."

"Oh> all right. How about you," Katherine?"

"None for me, thank you."

"Well then, I guess its off to the barber."

As he'd been doing since they left Briarly, Chase took charge. Rusty had no qualms over this. In some ways it was nice to have someone else take responsibility. She didn't know that Chase had not been ready to leave the papers he'd been working on, and in order to stay focused on the needs of his son, he was being rather stern with himself. In turn, he was a bit stern with Rusty and Quintin.

The barbershop was not far from the restaurant. The threesome walked the distance, and other than Rusty telling Quintin not to lag behind, they didn't speak. All this ended at the barbers door. When Chase began to walk through the door, Rusty asked, "Were you going to see to Quintin's haircut, Mr. McCandles?"

"Yes, I'd planned on it," he said simply.

"I think I'll just go across the street to the dry goods store then," she felt free to say. "I'll check back in a while to see if you're finished."

Chases gaze turned somewhat fierce, and he looked across the street toward her destination. He was being overly protective again, like the day he wanted to come for her when she started the job. Rusty wondered for just an instant if he expected to see bandits loitering in front of the store and nearly laughed outloud at the thought. Instead, she checked to see if she'd heard him correcdy.

"You did say you would see to Quintin's haircut, didn't you, Mr. McCandles?"

"Yes." He looked at her now.

"Then I'll see you in a little while."

"I'll walk you across the street."

"No, you won't."

The words were said softly, but there was no missing the command in Rusty's voice. Chase turned
eyes
on her that dared her to challenge him, and Rusty did just that. With eyes holding his, she said, "I'll see you later." She then stepped off the boardwalk.

"Katherine," Chase called in a voice she could not ignore. She turned back and found him larger than ever since she was standing in the street and he was still on the walk. "You will be in the dry goods store and nowhere else. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very clear." Her tone was tolerant.

"Quintin and I will come to you when we are finished. You will not leave there until we come."

This time Rusty only looked at him, very aware Quintin was watching the whole scene. She thought Chase was being ridiculous and wanted to tell him so, but she knew that now was not the time. He spoke before she could say a word one way or the other.

"Those are your choices—into the barber shop with us, or to the general store and stay there."

Rusty gave up. It really wasn't worth the fight. "I'll be in the general store," Rusty said quietly. She moved off and didn't look back, but she could feel Chase's eyes on her all the way across.

***

Rusty had not been in this particular dry goods store and found it to be wonderful. They had a huge selection of fabric, patterns she'd never seen before, and scores of notions. She was examining some tiny fans when one of the store clerks approached.

"Those are just in."

"Oh, are they?" Rusty replied to the nice young man. "What are they for?"

"You put them in your hair."

"Your hair?" Rusty's brows winged upward.

"Yes. May I show you?"

"Oh, all right." Rusty found nothing offensive about his manner, and since she'd piled her
hair atop her head this day, she could barely feel his fingers as they pushed two little fans into the fat coil of hair. Chase came in as he was finishing, his height letting him spot Rusty immediately, and although he said nothing, his eyes followed the young mans actions and attention like a hawk watching its prey.

"Now," he said kindly, "if you'll take the hand mirror." He gave it to Rusty. "I'll adjust the counter mirror so you can see." He worked efficiently, and in just a moment Rusty had a view. "What do you think?"

Rusty smiled. "I think it looks wonderful. What do you think, Quintin? Will my sister like these for her birthday?"

"For her hair?" the little boy smiled up at her.

"Yes," Rusty smiled back, completely blind to how lovely she looked.
"Your
hair looks nice," she took a moment to say to Quintin. Then she turned back to the man behind the counter. "I'll take these," she said.

"All right. Will you be wearing them?"

"No, I'd like them wrapped." Rusty began to reach for the combs, but the man's voice stopped her.

"Here, let me help you."

Not wanting to tear her hair down, Rusty turned a little to oblige. She didn't look at Chase right then, or she'd have seen that he was as stiff as a poker. Moments later the young clerk saw them to the door, and they made their way out of the store, combs in hand.

"He was nice," Rusty commented, not having seen anything amiss.

"I'm surprised he didn't follow you up the street."

Rusty stared at her employer. "You really are a worrier, aren't you?"

Chase looked down at her. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said and meant it.

"Mother hens never do," Rusty said with a smile.

Chase couldn't believe what he was hearing. She made it sound as if this was
his
problem. The man's actions had been completely improper! His voice told of his exasperation.

"If we'd stayed any longer, Katherine, I think he would have proposed."

As she had wanted to do in front of the barbershop, Rusty laughed. Not a light, small laugh, but a Rusty laugh: full and loud.

Chase, who had not meant to be funny at all, was having a hard time seeing the joke, but Rusty couldn't stop. She chuckled all the way back to the carriage and even some on the ride home. Between bouts of laughter, she asked Quintin all about his trip to the barber. Listening to him, Chase could not stay in a poor humor. Rusty noticed that her employer's mood lightened, and by the time the carriage pulled up in front of Briarly, she felt free to question him.

"Are you angry with me?"

"No. Are you angry with me?"

"No, but I think you're too protective."

Chase nodded and didn't deny it. He'd been telling himself the same thing, all the while realizing it wasn't at all easy to change.

They made their way inside, and Mrs. Whitley met them in the front hall. She made over Quintin's hair for a moment and then turned to Rusty.

"Rusty, you have visitors. They're waiting for you in the drawing room."

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Whit." Rusty's voice was calm enough, but she turned to exchange a look with Chase. He only lifted his brows and shrugged.

Rusty looked back toward the drawing room but for some reason didn't move.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Chases voice came softly to her ears, and she immediately turned.

"Would you?"

"Certainly."

Although she felt a bit apprehensive, Rusty led the way. There was nothing to fear. She stepped into the drawing room and laughed in delight. A moment later she was in Clayton Tag-gart's warm embrace.

36

"I wondered why you never answered my last letter," Rusty said to both Clayton and Jackie, a huge smile on her face. They were on the sofa, and Rusty and Chase had taken two of the overstuffed chairs. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Since before you were last home," her mother answered. "You said in your first letter to us that your family and friends would be welcome here, so we kept our plans even though you weren't at the orphanage."

"I'm so glad you did," Rusty said softly. Indeed, it was wonderful to see them. "How long can you stay?"

"Until Monday."

"Good. Oh, Mother." Rusty's voice was suddenly excited. "Has Papa described this room to you?

"Yes," Jackie said fervendy. "The bay window sounds marvelous."

"It's gorgeous," Rusty assured her. "It gives so much light to this room. I'll have to take you into the gardens outside too. They're beautiful."

"Well, now," Clayton broke in as soon as Rusty paused. "Whom do we have here?"

Both Chase and Rusty looked toward the two people who had just walked in the door and found Quintin with Mrs. Whitley.

"I'm sorry to bother you," she offered, her eyes going back and forth between Rusty and her employer, "but Quintin wants to know if he should have his free play now."

A free play period was something new to Chase, so he looked to Rusty. Rusty was looking right back.

"You don't mind if he joins us, do you, Mr. McCandles?"

"Not at all," Chase replied happily. He felt awful that he'd forgotten his son so swiftly.

"Come here, Quin." Rusty held out a hand. Quintin came right to her, and Rusty lifted him into her lap. "Quintin McCandles, I would like to introduce you to my parents, Mr. and Mrs. Taggart."

"Hello, Quintin," Clayton and Jackie both said.

"Hello," he said softly.

"How old are you, Quintin?" Clayton asked. He was practically on the edge of his chair, his eyes intent on this beautiful child. 1 m rive.

"You're a very big boy."

He glanced up at Rusty at that remark, and she smiled at him.

"Can you tell my parents what we did today?" she suggested.

Quintin moved to stand on the floor, and this time Rusty let him.

"We ate chicken, but we didn't have dessert."

"Chicken," Jackie interjected. "That's my favorite."

"I have a watch," Quintin couldn't help but say. The lovely gift had not been far from his thoughts all day.

"You do?" Clayton asked. "May we see it?"

Quintin went right over to the sofa and carefully withdrew the watch from his pocket.

"Well, would you look at that." Clayton was impressed. "May I hold it in my hand, Quintin?"

Quintin handed the watch over without a qualm. Clayton studied it and then passed it into Jackie's hand.

"It's a miniature," she said softly. "This is wonderful, Quintin. Was it a gift?"

The little boy nodded. "From my father. It was his."

"It's so small and perfect," Jackie said, still "seeing" it in the palm of her hand. "You must be so happy to have it."

As she had been doing off and on since they'd sat down, Rusty glanced from Quintin and her parents to Chase and once again found his
eyes
on her. His gaze was a bit intense, and not for the first time Rusty wondered if she'd done something wrong.

It was so different here. At the orphanage her duties were well-delineated, but at Briarly so much was left up to the moment and day. And now with Mr. McCandles' change toward his son, she felt even more uncertain than she had before. When should she step in, and when should she hold back? Then there was the scene in town. She had all but defied him outside the barbershop.

"I think," Jackie mentioned quietly, "that I would like to freshen up a bit."

"You and Papa can take my room, Mother," Rusty immediately offered. "I'll sleep in Quintins."

"The guest room is all made up," Chase quietly put in. "I think your parents will be quite comfortable in there, Katherine."

"Oh, all right." Rusty had a sudden idea. "Quintin, would you mind showing my parents where the guest room is? I'll come along in a few minutes."

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