A Texan's Promise by Shelley Gray Read Free Book Online

distance to separate them, just in case he needed to stop or change directions quickly. He and Lee moved as if in one motion. Vanessa, while an able horsewoman, had no claim to ride so well.
    As they rode up toward the homestead, Coco nickered.Vanessa rubbed her neck. "Almost there, girl. Then we'll stop for a day or two."
    Coco swung her head around, like she was nodding in agreement.Vanessa felt the same way. A day without dust blowing in her eyes and nose would be a welcome change. Finally, they neared the homestead, a sturdy stone and wooden house that looked as if it could withstand an Indian raid or a violent windstorm with ease.
    All that mattered at the moment was that there would be a bed or cot for her, and for that she would be eternally grateful.Vanessa had never been so tired as she was at that very minute.
    Every muscle ached, and though she hadn't dared let on, her back burned like the blazes. She'd purposely asked Clayton to leave it be until they got to the Willoughbys, knowing that even if things were as bad as she feared, there was little he could do to make things better on the trail.
    A man with a military bearing and coal black hair looked up when they approached. His welcoming smile told Vanessa that he could only be Clayton's tracker, Ken Willoughby."Clayton Proffitt? As I live and breathe."
    Clayton tipped his hat. "Ken. I was hoping I'd find you home. Is Mary here, too?"
    "She's in town with the children, getting supplies." Ken stood still, but it was obvious he was waiting for some introductions and an explanation.
    After a moment, Clayton did the honors. "Ken, this here's Vanessa Grant. May we impose on you for a day or two?"
    "You know you don't need to ask." Tipping his hat, Ken smiled, though Vanessa saw his golden eyes weren't missing a single detail. "Ma'am."
    "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Willoughby."
    "Likewise. And, it's Ken, ma'am. Please."
    They walked Coco and Lee to the barn. Vanessa was too tired to do more than wait patiently until Clayton helped her down. Not caring what his friend thought, she held onto him for dear life until feeling rushed back to her toes.
    Ken eyed the two of them for a good long moment before clearing his throat. "Well, now. Vanessa, I'm sure you'd like to wash up. Go on up to the house, if you'd please. In the back room, there's a pump and somesuch. Captain, I'll help you with the horses."
    "Thank you, and it's Clayton now. The war's long gone."Turning to Vanessa, his voice gentled. "You need some help, Van?"
    Vanessa knew he was referring to her back and her stiff muscles. But Ken didn't even attempt to hide his surprise at the question, though he wisely held his tongue.
    "I'll be fine," she said more brightly than she intended, then bit her lip as she sought to walk with a little jaunt to the house.
    She'd gone three yards when she heard Ken chuckle."Proffitt, what in the world is going on?"

    Clayton watched Vanessa enter the house, then waited a full minute after the door closed, just in case she needed something, before turning to his friend.
    Still as impatient as ever, Ken folded his arms across his chest. "Talk."
    Clayton did. Ken had been his lieutenant at the end of the war, and he trusted the man's judgment more than just about anyone else's. Haltingly, he told Ken about his job at the Circle Z, about Price, and finally about what had happened with Vanessa, though he didn't dare mention Price's name or exactly what he'd attempted, choosing instead to describe the beating.
    The knowing look in Ken's golden eyes didn't disappoint.Even after all these years, Willoughby understood more in a look than in a mess of sentences. "She's a pretty girl, Captain.Lovely."
    Ken was also a master of using few words to convey a wealth of meaning. "She's just that—a girl. She needs my protection.You don't need to imagine that there's anything more between us, because there isn't."
    "While I'd bet money that she does, indeed, need your protection, I don't think