UNBROKEN PROMISE

~2~ PROMISE

Logan’s POV

We sat in silence for a while, her eatin’ with a hunger that made my heart ache. I watched her closely, studyin’ the curve of her face, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly as she lifted the fork to her mouth. She didn’t look like she’d had a good meal in days—maybe longer.

After a while, she slowed down, glancin’ up at me like she was wonderin’ when I’d start askin’ questions. But I wasn’t in no rush.

“You know…” I started, leanin’ back in my chair, “I’ve been lookin’ for you for a long time.”

She froze mid-bite, her eyes wide but still cautious.

“I reckon you don’t remember me,” I started, leanin’ back in my chair, eyes fixed on her. She paused, glancin’ up at me with those green eyes, filled with hesitation. I couldn’t blame her—this wasn’t an easy thing to bring up, not with her bein’ so guarded.

“We used to know each other,” I said. “When we were kids.”

She stared at me, her brow furrowin’ like she couldn’t quite place it.

“I knew your father,” I said, my voice soft. “He was a good man—honest and hardworkin’.Your pa and mine, they were close. Used to trade together when he’d come through our town. He’d bring you with him sometimes when they’d come into town to get supplies. I used to tag along with my pa too. I reckon I've done business with your father myself a few times after my Pa died"

  I tried to smile at the memory, but it felt distant
“Last time I saw you, you were about six years old and I was twelve then"

Her fork hovered over her plate, but she didn’t say anything. Just looked down like she was tryin’ to piece together a part of her life she’d forgotten. Or maybe she’d buried it. Either way, I could tell she didn’t remember.

“There was this one time,” I continued, my voice softer, tryin’ to bring it all back for her, “you were runnin’ around the store while your pa was doin’ his tradin’, and you tripped over a crate. Skinned your knee pretty bad.” I chuckled lightly at the memory. “You were cryin’, so I ran over, helped you up, and got a bandage. You wouldn’t let go of my hand the whole time.”

I could see her tryin’ to pull the memory forward, her eyes searchin’ mine, but the look on her face told me she didn’t remember any of it.

“You don’t remember, do you?” I asked gently.

She shook her head slowly, her lips pressed together, almost like she was frustrated with herself for not rememberin’. But I wasn’t surprised—life hadn’t been easy for her, not since her father passed. Sometimes, the harder memories just slip away.

“That’s alright,” I said, tryin’ to ease the tension in the air. “It was a long time ago. We were just kids.”

She looked down at her hands again, like she wasn’t sure how to respond. That wall between us—it was still there. I could see the way she kept herself closed off, like she didn’t wanna let anyone in.

Her fork clattered down on the plate, and she sat there, starin’ at me like she wasn’t sure if she could trust what I was sayin’.

“The last time I saw him,” I continued, “he was lyin’ on his deathbed, fightin’ off cholera. He was weak, barely able to talk, but he managed to tell me about you. He said you were his little girl, and he begged me to promise I’d look after you when he was gone.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but she didn’t say a word, just listened, her face unreadable.

“I made that promise,” I said firmly. “I swore to him I’d find you, no matter what it took. But when I went back to your town after he passed, you were gone. Folks said you’d left—didn’t know where you’d gone off to. I looked for you for months, searchin’ the nearby towns, askin’ around. No one knew.”

I sighed, rubbin’ the back of my neck as the memory of those fruitless searches came back to me. “I didn’t expect to find you here of all places, starvin’ and in trouble like that. But I’m glad I did.”

Her lips parted like she wanted to say somethin’, but no words came out. Instead, she looked down at her hands, wringin’ them together like she was tryin’ to make sense of it all.

“I ain’t just some stranger who showed up outta nowhere,” I continued gently. “I made a promise to your father. And from now on, I’ll be keepin’ it.”

Her breath hitched, and she finally looked up at me, her green eyes filled with a mix of confusion and pain. I could tell it was a lot to take in, and maybe she didn’t quite believe me yet. But I wasn’t lyin’. I meant every word.

“You… you knew my papa?” she asked, her voice shaky.

I nodded. “Yeah, I did. He talked about you all the time. He loved you, y’know? Even in his last moments, all he could think about was makin’ sure you were taken care of. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

Her shoulders sagged a little, like the weight of the world was restin’ on them, and for the first time since we’d sat down, she started to cry. Not loud, not drawin’ attention, just soft tears that rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the table.

I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but I didn’t want to push her too far. She barely knew me, after all.

“Hey,” I said quietly, “it’s alright now. You ain’t alone anymore.”

She sniffed, wipin’ at her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t… I don’t even know your name,” she whispered.

A small smile tugged at my lips. “Logan,” I said. “Logan Tawney”

She repeated it under her breath, like she was tryin’ to commit it to memory. Then she took a deep breath and looked me square in the eyes for the first time.

“My name is Caroma....Why… why did you really come for me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. There was doubt there, like she didn’t believe anyone would bother lookin’ out for her.

I leaned forward, restin’ my elbows on the table. “Because I gave my word,” I said simply. “And where I come from, a man’s word means somethin’. I ain’t gonna leave you to fend for yourself out here.”

She blinked, takin’ it all in, and for a moment, I thought she might bolt right then and there. But she didn’t. She just sat there, starin’ at me, like she was tryin’ to decide if she could trust me.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” I said softly, “but I’m here now. I ain’t expectin’ you to believe me right away, but I’m gonna do right by you. You don’t have to be afraid no more.”

Her lip quivered as she looked down at the  plate of food in front of her. For a long moment, neither of us said a word, but I could tell the walls around her were startin’ to come down, brick by brick.

Finally, she spoke, her voice so soft I almost didn’t catch it. “Thank you.”

It was just two words, but they meant the world right then.