aherospromise_211-3e3.htm

by A Hero's Promise (lit)

  "I was hoping we wouldn’t have to resort to that."

  "You’re so droll, Dane. Really. I hope that piece of crap car of yours isn’t leaking oil on my driveway."

  "I’ll have her call you every few days to tell you how happy she is," Dane said, standing and turning to go.

  Rita sat up and whipped the glasses from her face. "You can’t be serious. You think for a minute I’d allow you to take my daughter away from me?"

  "Why not? You took her away from me, before she was old enough to have a say in the matter. Now she’s old enough, she wants to go, so we’re going."

  "I’ll call the police."

  "Please do. And while you’re at it, call that Tindale broad, too. Perhaps she’d like to know about our latest scandal."

  Rita seemed to choke on her own tongue. Sputtering in rage, she fairly leaped from the lounge and gave chase as Dane sauntered toward the back of the mansion.

  "You won’t get away with this!"

  "With what? Taking my little girl home for a visit? Getting her out into the fresh air of Wyoming, teaching her to ride a horse that isn’t shellacked?" Dane stopped and spun around to face his ex-wife. "I’ll tell you something else. She asked me to take her. She begged to go. To get away from you. And if you don’t think I’d take you back to court to get custody of her, and Melissa too, for that matter, you’re sorely mistaken. And I’d win, too, you can count on that. So let’s make this easy on ourselves, and more importantly, easy on them. Just lay off."

  Rita’s gaping mouth slowly closed, and Dane reached out to her, drawing two fingers gently down her cheek. "What happened to you, anyway?" he asked softly, then turned away while shaking his head.

  ~ * ~

  Jessica hung up the telephone in the kitchen and shuddered.

  "Who was that?" Lydia asked, peeking into the hot oven at the tray of cookies baking inside.

  "Russ Morrison. He’s with the adoption agency in Minnesota. I can’t believe it! He’s setting up an interview for me!"

  "Oh, Jessie, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you. But you look worried."

  "I’m nervous about the whole thing. I wish Dane was here."

  "Be home tomorrow, right?"

  "Supposedly. This thing is taking so darned long. I’m afraid to get my hopes up again. Every time I do, something goes wrong."

  "Things like that always take time. You know what they say about a thing being worth waiting for, something like that?"

  "As usual, you are right," Jessica agreed, absently popping a cookie into her mouth. "And Chet is definitely worth waiting for."

  Dane’s call from Salt Lake City later in the evening surprised her.

  "You’ll be here tonight?"

  "I couldn’t stand another night away. It’ll be late--they’re just fueling the plane now. Could you make sure her bed is ready?"

  "The bed is already turned down."

  "Thanks, Sweetie. See you soon."

  Jessica toured the house before settling onto the couch to wait for Dane’s arrival. The boys were asleep, everything was quiet. It was half-past eleven when she heard his truck pull into the garage.

  She followed him up the stairs and into the room she and Lydia had readied for Zoe. Tenderly Dane covered her sleeping form and bent to kiss her peaceful brow.

  "She got a little airsick," he whispered, stroking his daughter’s hair away from her face. "I think she’s okay now."

  Back downstairs, Dane reached for Jessica and took her into his arms. "I missed you," he said into her ear, causing shivers to ripple throughout her body.

  "Missed you, too."

  He kissed her then, a single, deeply satisfying kiss that reconnected them after his brief absence. Jessica shivered in his arms.

  "You okay?"

  "I’m fine. I’m just… glad you’re back. You must be tired."

  "Pretty well burnt, yeah. Duking it out with Rita wasn’t exactly easy. We’ll talk tomorrow."

  ~ * ~

  They didn’t talk about much the next day. Dane delighted in showing his "baby girl" around the ranch, and Jessica watched a side of Dane she had rarely seen. Peter commented as they stood together outside the corral where Dane walked Whiskey in a circle, Zoe plated firmly before him in the saddle.

  "She’s definitely likin’ bein’ a daddy’s girl."

  "She should," Jessica mused, briefly thinking about her own late father and the times they had shared. "But I think Dane’s enjoying it even more than she is."

  "He’s lucky, eh? I’d hoped to have some wee ones of me own, but lady luck has always looked the other way."

  "You sound like you’ve given up! Don’t be foolish, Peter."

  "Ah, Jess, you’re an angel to say it. But I ask you, what woman in her right mind, or otherwise for that matter, would want to start up with a crusty ol’ Brit like me? A roly-poly, balding, near-sighted Limey who’s most comfortable in the kitchen?"

  It was an inopportune moment for the comment as Lydia stepped from just behind him and climbed up to stand on the split rail fence surrounding the corral.

  "So what’s on the menu tonight, Limey?" she teased with a little giggle. Coloring, Peter turned and huffed back toward the main house, leaving Jessica to stifle a laugh.

  "Dane says we’re going to a summer festival deal tonight. There’s a "mountain man" competition, dancing, face painting, booths, all that stuff."

  "Great. At least I won’t have to argue with him about dinner!" Lydia asserted, then turned to follow Peter back into the house. Jessica watched her go, a broad smile on her face. Something was brewing.

  ~ * ~

  It wasn’t long before Jessica found herself adoring Dane’s daughter as much as he did. The exposure to outdoor activities had put a rosy bloom on Zoe’s cheeks, and she played big sister to Devon much better than little sister to the pouty Alexander.

  Every day brought another level of contentment to Jessica. Likewise, her problems seemed to take more definite, more manageable shapes, and she felt better focused than she had in months. Months?

  She stared at the calendar on the kitchen wall. Tomorrow would be May 19th. Tomorrow was the anniversary of Mac’s death.

  Where had the year gone? A series of pictures rushed by in her mind, but not nearly enough scenes to make up an entire year. Preoccupied, she lifted her jacket off the pegged rack bedside the door and met Dane as he came in from outside.

  "Going somewhere?" he asked, shedding his own windbreaker and helping her on with hers. "Nippy outside."

  "Just need to take a walk."

  "You don’t look like you want company."

  She only smiled and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Be back soon. The boys are--I mean the kids are upstairs."

  "Don’t get lost," he called as she trotted down the porch steps.

  Don’t worry. I’ll find my way back. Somehow.

  She walked until the chilly air had her winded, and she found herself on the top of a small hill. The sun hung low in the western sky. Her hands well nested inside her pockets, Jessica stared at the farthest horizon and then sat down on the grassy hilltop.

  "I can’t believe you’ve been gone a whole year," she said quietly, her eyes roaming over the treetops, a bird in flight, the distant clouds. "Where are you, Mac? Where are you, really?"

  She listened; the wind in the trees, the bird’s wings. Were these the sounds given her by her late husband? The man to whom she had sworn a lifetime of love, truth and fidelity?

  "I haven’t been back to visit the… the grave, you know it just didn’t seem… right, for you to be there…" she murmured, now looking down at the individual blades of grass before her. "It’s not like you’re really there." Her voice caught in her throat. "It’s not like you’re really anywhere. I mean, where you are, it’s where you’ll always be, in my heart, okay? Oh damn."

  The lump in her throat had grown almost too large for her to speak aloud. She swallowed hard. "He’s different, Mac. He’s better than before. He’s good to
me, and good to our son. Devon needs Dane in his life… and so do I. Would it be so awful…?"

  Jessica squeezed her eyes tightly closed, waiting for the memories to begin washing over her. Waiting for the fear and humiliation to set in. Instead, the cry of the hawk overhead startled her, causing her to look skyward as the bird circled above.

  The old pain did not return. Instead, the vision that filled her was of Mac’s shining adoration. The little salute he was fond of giving her when they were dating. The sympathetic and loving eyes that were saying, It’s okay. I will always love you.

  Suddenly, she was gasping for air, her heart thumping in her chest as though she had run a great distance. Jessica got rapidly to her feet, taking in big gulps of air, her arms spread wide in gratitude. Had she purposely conjured an approval? Or were the visions sent from beyond, somehow, to tell her not to worry? She did not want to wait for an explanation, did not want to allow the old doubts to creep in. When her breathing had calmed sufficiently, she began descending the hill, slowly at first and then picking up speed until she was jogging back toward the house. Dane was out in front, playing tug-of-war with one of his favorite Labradors.

  "Hey, woman, you got a bear after you?" he called as Jessica trotted briskly up to him and threw herself into his waiting arms.

  "I am a bear!" she proclaimed, wrapping her legs around him, reveling in his embrace. And when he again placed her on her feet, the light in his eyes was such that Jessica stood transfixed, unable to move at all.

  "Take me to where you’ve been," he murmured, his fingers moving slowly against the tresses of hair that hung down her back.

  "I’m still there," she told him, now laying her cheek against his chest. "And I want to stay."

  ~ * ~

  He didn’t seem at all surprised when she came into his bedroom after midnight. Wearing the silk turquoise robe he’d given her, Jessica sat down on the edge of his bed and sighed.

  "I need to talk," she began, fiddling with her finger as if twisting a non-existent ring.

  Dane hoisted himself into a sitting position and turned on the bedside lamp to its dimmest setting.

  "I’ve been thinking about, you know, us. I have some questions, I guess."

  "I’m listening," he said quietly.

  "About getting married. I need to know… why."

  Dane tilted his head. "Why? Well. I thought this was going to be hard," he said with a smile. "Like who would keep the checkbook, where we would go for our honeymoon, you know, hard stuff."

  Jessica lowered her chin in a mock pout.

  "Okay. Why. Well, I think we’re good together, Jess. For the first time since we met, I feel like… like we’re finally in sync. Crazy as it sounds, it’s like everything that went before led up to this, right here and now." He paused, looking briefly away and then placing his hand on her knee. "I don’t mean what happened to Mac. I never wanted that to happen, believe me. But the fact remains that you and I, we’re here now, finally together."

  Jessica drew in a deep breath. There had to be more, and she waited quietly.

  "Not buying it, huh?"

  "Keep talking."

  Dane was quiet for a time, then threw back the covers and got out of bed. In another time and place, his immodesty would have stunned her. Yet the sight of this completely nude man crossing the room in the dim light didn’t faze Jessica. If anything, it delighted her; still she remained stone-faced.

  He was digging in his top dresser drawer. "You have a right to ask," he said, now returning to the bed. "Okay." He sat beside her and took her hand. "You want to know why I want to spend what’s left of my life with you? It’s a simple answer, really." He slipped a small band onto the nervous ring finger of her left hand. Jessica uttered a tiny gasp, staring in wonder at the ornate, diamond and platinum filigree ring.

  "Oh, my…"

  "It was my mother’s. She was the last to wear it. She would have wanted you to have it."

  "Why me? We never even met."

  "Because you are the woman I love. The woman of my heart."

  Jessica felt her pulse quicken. "Could you just say that first part again?"

  Cupping her right cheek, he moved his lips close to her left ear, speaking softly yet plainly. "Losing your hearing, are you?" Jessica shivered as he kissed the spot on her neck just below her earlobe.

  "You are the woman I love, and damn it if I haven’t loved you from the very beginning." Slowly easing her back on the bed, Dane trailed his lips down her neck and around to the other ear. "Forgive me," he whispered, his words hot and moist, tantalizing her senses. "I’ve hidden it so long, it’s still hard for me to say it."

  "Hidden?" she managed, her own hands traveling across his naked flesh, down his back, absorbing the tautness of his muscles as she reacquainted herself with his form.

  "It doesn’t matter now." Dane stopped kissing her and looked into her face. "I do love you, want you… let the heavens witness that I promise you my love forever, Jessica. Forever. If you want it."

  "I do. Oh, I do. I didn’t think you knew. I didn’t think you would every really love me, this way. We really do have a chance, don’t we?"

  "More than a chance, if you love me even half as much--"

  "You know I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you."

  He paused then, searching her eyes for the truth she was doing her best to convey. "So it’s yes?"

  "Yes. Let’s do it."

  His sigh signaled a combination of relief and barely restrained desire; Jessica surprised herself by wriggling out of the silk robe beside him, pressing her nakedness against him.

  "Ah, you came prepared," he murmured, pulling her closer and launching a full assault on her eager sensuality, triggering reactions she had all but forgotten were possible. She proved his match, however, alternately giving and taking whatever she felt would give them both pleasure.

  And when the play was over and a sweet rhythm developed between them, Jessica closed her eyes and succumbed to Dane’s never-ending power over her. The term "lover" had never carried any significant meaning before. He was her friend, her champion, her benefactor to some degree. Now, once again her lover; her fiancé, soon-to-be her third and final husband.

  Lover. The word rolled softly through her head as he worked the magic, shared the fever, awoke the passion within her.

  From the first day she’d laid eyes on Dane Pierce, she’d wondered what it would be like to share his bed. It had not taken long to find out. The excitement was unfathomable… and yet lacking. Because sex without commitment would never be good enough. And now, surrounding her finger was a circle of commitment that fulfilled the act, fueled and validated the inferno of their physical love.

  Yes. Dane had always loved her. But only now was he ready to trade his disclaimers for a future. The realization drove Jessica to a new, exquisite reality, allowing her to forget, for a time, that anything or anyone else even existed. So complete was their unity, there was no question in her mind that he felt the same.

  Twenty-three

  Faith

  "I asked for Russ Morrison."

  "He isn’t here. Is there something I can do for you, Mrs. MacKendall?"

  Yes. Quit your job and move to Siberia.

  "I want to update my application."

  "In what way?"

  "Please, change the records to show that I am getting married soon, and the Wyoming address will become permanent."

  "And the prospective groom?"

  "Dane Thomas Pierce." Not that it’s any of your business.

  "Ah. I might have known."

  "And just what is that supposed to mean?" Jessica asked, feeling her hackles rise.

  "Well, after that… shall we say… telling article in Hush… I clipped it out, you know. Thought it would make a nice addition to your file."

  "I wouldn’t put much stock in any tabloid story, Miss Carvey. Surely you realize--"

  "Surely you realize just how slim your chances are of adopting a special-n
eeds child when you are associated with… a philanderer, a man who’s already abandoned two of his own children…"

  "I beg your pardon?!" Jessica’s temper flared at the implication made. "Your information is incorrect, at best. And none of your business anyway, I might add."

  "Oh, but it is my primary business to see that little Chester is placed with upstanding parents, responsible parents of good moral character. I’m sorry but I think you’re wasting your time."

  Newly enraged, Jessica slammed the phone back onto its cradle.

  Wide-eyed, Lydia watched from the doorway. "Need anything from town?"

  "Yes." Jessica was thoughtful, pushing her sparse bangs away from her forehead. She lowered her voice. "See if you can find a copy of Hush Magazine."

  "Sure."

  "And if there’s anything, you know, too obvious on the cover, don’t let anyone we know see it."

  "Gotcha. Anything else?"

  "Not right now, unless you want to strangle Irma Carvey for me."

  ~ * ~

  "Okay. What’ve you got?" Murdo Denehy sat down at the long precinct conference table while his partner closed the office door.

  "The Internet is crammed full of stuff about this guy. Articles, bios, fan clubs, the works." Joe Fusco sat opposite Denehy and opened his steno notebook.

  "Go ahead."

  "Thirty-seven years old, born November 29th in Glendale. Went to school locally, journalism major. Father was a philosophy teacher, mother taught art and voice lessons and was an ex-Miss San Fernando Valley."

  "Was?"

  "They were both killed in a train wreck a few years back. New York State. Pierce married his high school sweetheart, Rita Herrington, when he was eighteen, she was nineteen. They have three kids. Around the time he started winning Oscars and shit, she left him."

  "Hmmm. Poor guy."

  "Right. Word was, he was already banging other chicks. That’s when he met Ms. MacKendall. ‘Course, she wasn’t MacKendall at the time."

  "They did a movie together."

  "Yeah, and had a brief tumble, after which he dumped her and she married MacKendall."

  "Anything about the Spencer woman?"

  Fusco flipped a few pages ahead. "As a matter of fact, I spent about two hours going over the archived chat logs of the fan club. It’s pretty divided, about whether or not it was an accident or suicide. A couple of people even believe he killed her. But just about all of them think that Jessica MacKendall was the motivating factor."