Promises Kept Read Online Free

seen in her young life. No matter how she circled the problem, she needed to find a man who could provide a home and teach the boys skills to survive.
    She’d heard what Mrs. Wellington said tonight about needing to do her part when God provided a man. While she appreciated Mrs. Wellington’s beliefs, they were no longer her own. When she was younger she’d prayed and prayed for a different life, but nothing ever changed. The time for praying and dreaming about what she wanted was over. She was determined the boys would have a home and respectability, and it was up to her to find a way to change their circumstances. She decided, as the cattlemen who dined at the boardinghouse were so fond of saying, it was time to take the bull by the horns. So she’d written the advertisement: Lady of marriageable age with two young boys in need of husband. I am a good cook and used to hard work. She’d finished the ad by including her name and address at the boardinghouse. She had decided it best to say straightaway that she came with responsibilities, so there would be no surprises down the road. She didn’t actually state the boys were her children, but the implication was there all the same.
    So far, she had been less than impressed with the responses. One man wrote that she should come out West, and if he liked the looks of her and she performed her wifely duties to his satisfaction, then he might send for the boys. Well, no, thank you very much . She’d seen enough men at the saloon in Abilene to know when they were just interested in one thing. As Mrs. Wellington so aptly stated, They want the milk and not the cow . Another letter she’d received was from a man describing himself as a married man of considerable wealth who wanted to hire her as a housekeeper. Of course, she would be required to share his bed because his wife was beset with headaches. As if! Every letter she’d received had mentioned her wifely duties . Is that all men think about?
    After striking a match to the lamp on the table, she took a seat in the rocking chair and carefully opened the pouch. Several gold double-eagle coins dropped to her lap. Puzzled, she peeked inside and saw the folded letter with her neatly printed name on top. Tracing the letters with her fingers, she was nervous and excited at the same time.
    She stared at the letter. Maybe this one would be different. She took a deep breath and slowly unfolded the letter. Dear Miss Victoria . . . She read the letter a second time, and questions filled her mind. How old is Mr. Barlow? Is he a widower? Does he have children? Who is Bartholomew? He described himself as hardworking and honest. Good, he’s not a cowboy but a farmer. He reads the Bible and goes to church. He reads Shakespeare. Maybe that was a sign he was the right man. Since living at the boardinghouse she had access to Mr. Wellington’s vast collection of books, and it seemed he’d had a particular fondness for Shakespeare. Surprisingly, she had also developed a liking for the man’s writings.
    Mr. Barlow offered more information than the other men had given her in their terse replies. The most telling line he’d written was his promise to provide for her and the boys. Those few words touched a soft spot in her heart. Unlike the other letters she’d received, he hadn’t once mentioned her wifely duties. Of course, if they were wed he’d have every right to expect her to . . . well, she knew what would be expected. She picked up the coins from her lap. It was no small sum of money, certainly more than she needed for the stagecoach. Perhaps he didn’t have to scratch out a meager existence as she had done her entire life. It must have occurred to him that she could take his money and never make it to Wyoming. That trusting gesture told her more about the man than his written words. He obviously dealt honestly with people and expected the best from them. Maybe this was the one man she could trust. A farmer.
     
     
    Dawn peeked