Promise, Texas

by Debbie Macomber

  He stared at her blankly.

  “Please don’t make me tell you I’m not interested in dating you,” she said as kindly as she could. Why was the man so dense? Didn’t he know she’d wanted to avoid exactly this?

  His expression tightened. “I see. I’ll make sure there’s no repeat of this. Goodbye, Ms. French.”

  “Goodbye, Sheriff Jordan.”

  With his head high and his back straight, he walked out of her room. Jeannie should have been glad. He’d promised he wouldn’t approach her again, which was the result she’d wanted to achieve. She’d taken the honest but painful path, not letting him trap her into attending the dance with him. She expected to feel a sense of relief. But she didn’t. Instead, she felt as if she was the cruelest, most wretched woman on the face of the earth.

  CHAPTER 8

  Lucas held the San Antonio paper in his hands, but he wasn’t reading. The dinner dishes were done, and Heather and Hollie were in their bedroom playing. He cherished the silence, knowing it wouldn’t last, and returned his attention to the front page.

  His thoughts soon wandered from the headlines to his afternoon with Annie Applegate the previous week. He hadn’t expected to enjoy it as much as he had. Their lunch, followed by the visit to Bitter End, had stayed in his mind ever since. Annie had a gentleness about her, and a sincerity. It was easy to see why his girls were so drawn to her.

  He wanted to see her again, yet resisted asking. He wasn’t sure why, but it seemed important that he put some distance between them.

  With that in mind, he’d made an excuse not to take his children to the bookstore on Saturday morning. They could still go, but not with him. He didn’t want to appear too interested, too eager. So he’d arranged for the girls to go with Caroline Weston and her daughter, Maggie. When Heather and Hollie returned shortly after noon, they’d been full of chatter. He longed to ask if Annie had mentioned him, but didn’t.

  The big Cattlemen’s Dance was fast approaching and he knew he was expected to attend. He’d had a miserable time last year. He’d felt so alone, watching his friends hold their wives on the dance floor. Watching the comfortable intimacy between them. He’d been so painfully aware of his loss that night. He’d never stopped missing Julia, and lately he seemed to miss her more than ever.

  Lucas didn’t want to think about the dance, didn’t want to remember how badly his children needed their mother, how desperately he needed his wife. He felt those needs, those fears, every night, lying alone in the dark. He didn’t want to remember them now.

  Annie. It was better to think about Annie. She reminded him of Julia in some ways—her ease with people, especially children, her wholehearted commitment to the projects she undertook. In other ways, she was very different. Lucas realized he’d grown up with Julia. He’d been nineteen when they met and twenty-three when they got married. There’d never been anyone else from the moment they first kissed.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Hollie called out to him from the other room. “Heather took my Barbie.”

  “Heather, give Hollie her doll back,” he said automatically.

  “It’s my doll.”

  “It’s mine.”

  The argument was escalating fast. Setting aside his newspaper, Lucas hurried to the bedroom. “All right,” he said, standing in the doorway, “what’s the problem?”

  “Heather took my Barbie,” Hollie said again.

  The girls must have had ten Barbie dolls each. “Can’t you play with another one?”

  “No!” Hollie wailed. “This one’s got the party dress. My other Barbies can’t go to the Cattlemen’s Dance without a party dress.”

  It seemed to Lucas that Heather owned a Barbie in a party dress, too.

  “Hollie’s Barbie is in the bathtub,” Heather reminded him. “Hollie took off the dress and now she wants mine. Tell her she can’t have it, Daddy. Tell her.” She stared up at him with pleading brown eyes.

  “Hollie?”

  The five-year-old’s lower lip quivered as she returned the Barbie in the fancy dress to her older sister.

  “Thank you,” Lucas said, praising her sense of fairness. He held out his arms, and sobbing, she raced toward him. He held her until the storm of tears had passed. With some effort and the three of them searching, they eventually located the other party dress, buried at the bottom of the toy chest. Hollie’s Barbie was rescued from the tub and made resplendent once again. Peace was restored. After their baths, Lucas read to his girls, listened to their prayers, then tucked them in for the night.

  Usually he turned on the television once they were asleep, and that was his plan. To his surprise, he found himself reaching for the telephone, instead. After connecting with Directory Assistance, he dialed Annie’s home number.

  “Hello?”

  For the life of him Lucas couldn’t think of a single reason for calling. And now that she was on the other end of the line he panicked, not knowing what to say.

  “Hello,” she repeated.

  “It’s Lucas.”

  That announcement shut her up. Well, great. They could stay on the phone for hours, neither of them saying a word. That was one way to spend an evening.

  “How are you?” he asked. So much for witty repartee.

  “Fine. And you?”

  “Oh, just fine.”

  “I missed seeing you this morning.”

  She had? Suddenly that seemed encouraging, although he’d rather not think about why. “Has anyone mentioned the Cattlemen’s Dance?” Until the words were out of his mouth, Lucas didn’t realize he intended to invite Annie. But it made perfect sense. They understood each other. They’d each experienced a devastating loss. They had a lot in common. They were friends. Who better to invite to the biggest community event of the year?

  “Jane said something about the dance,” Annie told him.

  “Would you like to go?”

  “I was thinking about it.”

  “With me,” he added.

  Her hesitation threw him. “That is…I mean, if you’d rather not, I understand. It’d only be as friends. It’s just that…” First he couldn’t manage to get a word out, and all at once they were spilling out so fast they didn’t make sense.

  “I think that’s a lovely idea, Lucas. I’d hate going by myself.”

  Thank God. Being friends with a woman was difficult enough without having to deal with rejection, too.

  “Only…”

  His spirits took an immediate dive. “What?” He wanted her to say it—tell him what he’d done wrong.

  “Lucas, I don’t dance very well.”

  That was it? She was concerned about her ability to dance? His relief was so great he nearly laughed out loud. “Actually, I’m not all that light on my feet, either,” he said to reassure her.

  “It’s because of the car accident.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Annie. In fact, we don’t even have to dance.”

  Annie’s laugh was almost musical. “Darn, and I was hoping we could whirl around the floor, barefoot and wild.”

  The image of the pair of them shoeless in the middle of the dance floor made him smile.

  “I’ll get the tickets and call you back about the time,” he said, grateful the ordeal of asking her was over.

  “Great. Thank you, Lucas.”

  Lucas was still smiling when he hung up the phone. He returned to his favorite chair and picked up the television’s remote control. He watched a nature program and then the news.

  Once he was in bed he read for a while, but found his thoughts drifting to Annie. He turned off the light. Even after all this time of sleeping alone, he continued to stay on his side of the bed out of habit. An oddly consoling habit, one that was hard to give up—although there was no reason he couldn’t sleep in the middle, claim the entire bed if he wanted.

  The darkness and silence settled in around him. He waited, as he did every night, for the loneliness to come crashing down on him.

  Tonight it didn’t.
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  Richard’s second letter in three years was a shock to Grady Weston. Because it was addressed to him, not Savannah. He didn’t think his brother had the guts to write him. Not after what he’d done. The only feeling Grady had left in his heart for Richard was pity. His brother was in prison, and that was exactly where he belonged. Exactly where he would remain.

  Caroline was aware that a letter from Richard had arrived that day, marked as it was with the prison stamp, warning the recipient that this was uncensored mail from a penal institution. She’d seen it, but hadn’t questioned him about it. Still, she knew he was disturbed by the letter—the way she always knew when something troubled him.

  Grady was tired; his day had started at three in the calving barn. It hadn’t helped that Richard’s letter was waiting for him when he came in from a long day spent moving the herd to its summer pasture. Now, after dinner, he’d holed himself up in his office to read it. No need to ruin his meal.

  The letter said precisely what Grady had expected Richard would say. That he was sorry. Terribly, terribly sorry—Grady had heard all that before. Then Richard went on for a couple of paragraphs about how much he needed his family. Same song, second verse. Grady trusted his brother about as much as he did a rattlesnake. Sad though it was to admit, Richard had destroyed every ounce of trust Grady had invested in him—trust that couldn’t be restored. In fact, he’d spent his entire adult life destroying his family’s faith in him.

  There was a light knock at his office door and Caroline stuck her head inside.

  “Come on in,” he told her. He’d known she’d come to him eventually wanting to talk about the letter.

  She entered and closed the door. “Maggie and Roy are asleep,” she said.

  Grady glanced at the clock, surprised it was that late. Generally they tucked in the kids together and listened to their prayers. “You should have called me.”

  “Not tonight, Grady.”

  He nodded, grateful as always for her wisdom and sensitivity.

  Caroline didn’t take the chair across from him as she usually did. Instead, she crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. It felt good to have her this close.

  “Are you going to tell me about it?” she asked, her head on his shoulder.

  Grady hesitated, then shrugged. “The usual—Richard being his persuasive self,” he told her. “So very sorry for all the pain he’s caused everyone, et cetera.”

  “He might be sincere this time.”

  “Fine, he can be sincere from prison. If Savannah wants anything to do with him, that’s her decision. I don’t.”

  Caroline’s fingers were in his hair. “Do you hate him so much?”

  Grady gritted his teeth. “Yes…Hell, I don’t know. All my illusions about Richard were destroyed the day I buried my parents.” He shook his head. “He says he’s sorry, but he’s said it before. All he talked about in that letter was himself. His circumstances, his feelings, his mistakes. Richard’s entire world revolves around Richard. I wasn’t fooled when he came back to Promise four years ago, and I’m not fooled now. Richard will always be Richard.”

  Caroline held his face between her hands. “You have nothing to worry about, Grady. Maggie is your daughter in every way that matters, and I’m your wife.”

  Grady knew what she said was true. Nevertheless, one small hidden part of him battled back the dread and the fear that somehow his brother would slip back into their lives and claim his daughter. Would entice Caroline away from him. His doubts weren’t based in reality. Not once since they’d married had Caroline given him cause to doubt her love. Not once.

  “I’m just afraid he’s going to waltz into this house and steal you and Maggie away,” he admitted reluctantly.

  Caroline gave a short harsh laugh. “It’ll never happen. Never,” she emphasized. “He doesn’t even know Maggie is his child.”

  Grady wanted to believe it, but he couldn’t be entirely sure. Not after Richard had inadvertently stolen the child and kept her overnight in Bitter End. He must have guessed. Must have suspected.

  Richard had seduced Caroline one night, soon after their parents had died. Seduced her and left her. It sounded melodramatic, Grady knew, but it was the simple truth. Yeah, that was Richard for you. His persuasive, seductive brother. His irresponsible, selfish bastard of a brother.

  All his life, until now, Richard had managed to get whatever he wanted—which almost always belonged to Grady. He couldn’t lose Caroline and Maggie. Richard wasn’t coming back here ever; that was all there was to it. That was the only way he’d never be a threat. “Are you going to answer the letter?” Caroline asked.

  He laughed as if she’d made a joke. “No way.”

  She nodded.

  “My instincts are screaming he’s not to be trusted—the same as they did the last time.”

  He half expected Caroline to argue with him and was grateful when she didn’t. He groaned. Damn, it felt good to hold her in his arms. It seemed a shame to waste these precious moments. He twisted his head until his lips met hers. Her mouth parted in welcome and the kiss deepened.

  His fingers fumbled with her shirt buttons, then groped to find the clasp of her bra.

  “Grady,” she mumbled, dragging her lips from his. “There’s another reason I needed to talk to you tonight.”

  “Tell me later.” He knew she’d been looking for away to reassure him of her love, and he’d come up with the perfect solution.

  “I…thought…you’d…want…to…know…now.” She got the words out between kisses.

  “Why?” If he delayed her long enough, it wouldn’t matter. His quest was complete when he managed to free her magnificent breasts.

  “Grady,” she moaned. “I’m late.”

  “No, you aren’t, sweetheart, your timing is perfect.” He sought her nipple—and then her meaning hit him. His head snapped up. “Late?”

  She smiled dreamily and nodded.

  “How late?” he asked. “When?”

  “Last month sometime.”

  “But…” His heart was thumping with excitement. They’d talked about another baby, and both had decided they wanted to add to their family. But he’d expected it to happen long before this. Roy was already three and Caroline had gotten pregnant practically on their wedding night.

  “Don’t tell me you’re surprised.” Happiness radiated from her.

  “No.” He couldn’t very well be, seeing that they were a healthy married couple and deeply in love. “Just happy.”

  “Oh, Grady, me, too. I can barely contain myself.”

  “But isn’t it too soon to know for sure? What about one of those kits you can buy, or better yet, making an appointment at the clinic?”

  “I’m sure,” she insisted. “I know I’m pregnant. I can feel it.” She grinned. “Besides, I did buy one of those kits and all it did was tell me what I already knew.”

  Shifting the weight of her in his arms, Grady stood and carried her out of the office.

  “Where are we going?”

  “We have some celebrating to do,” he said, walking into the main part of the house and past the dining room.

  His wife smiled knowingly when he rounded the corner and headed down the long hallway that led to their bedroom. He loved this woman and would spend the rest of his life proving it.

  It didn’t take Savannah long to get wind of the letter Richard had mailed Grady. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised. She came by the house later the following day to drop off a loaf of freshly baked bread and a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses. Savannah and Caroline had been friends for years, but it soon became apparent that Savannah wasn’t there just to visit with Caroline. She wanted to see Grady, too. He was in the calving barn, bottle-feeding a newborn calf whose mother was too weak to nurse.

  “He wrote?” she asked, leaning against the enclosure.

  “If you’re asking about Richard, yes, I heard from him.”

  “He told you how sorry he is?” she asked, wa
tching him.

  “Oh, he said he was sorry, all right.”

  Savannah didn’t say anything for a while. Neither did Grady. She reached over to stroke the calf. His sister had always had a special love for babies, human and animal. Their vulnerability brought out not only her gentleness but her strength.

  “You won’t be answering him,” she eventually said.

  “No.” Grady didn’t need to think twice before responding. He glanced up, expecting her to chastise him or insist it was his duty. When she didn’t, he wasn’t sure why.

  “Caroline’s fairly bursting with your news.”

  “Yeah.” Grady’s chest swelled with pride. “Looks like she’s pregnant.”

  “That’s so wonderful.”

  “I wish Mom and Dad were here to know their grandchildren.” They’d died together in a flash flood a decade earlier, but not a day passed that Grady didn’t remember his parents in one way or another.

  “They are here,” Savannah whispered. “I believe that with all my heart.”

  Grady sighed. “I know you think I should write Richard—”

  “No,” Savannah said quickly, cutting him off. “I don’t think that.”

  “You don’t?”

  “He’s up to something. I don’t know what, but he needs us for some reason.”

  Grady suspected as much himself and was amazed that his tenderhearted sister shared his opinion.

  “Whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it,” Grady said without emotion.

  “I don’t, either,” Savannah said.

  CHAPTER 9

  Nessa’s day had been full. She’d waited until business slowed midafternoon, then called the Pattersons to learn what she could about Gordon Pawling. Phil remembered him well.

  “Of course I know who Gordon Pawling is,” Phil said. “We’ve been exchanging Christmas cards for several years.”

  “But he didn’t know Dovie and Frank were married.”

  “He didn’t ask and I didn’t say anything,” Phil continued. “It wasn’t my place to tell him. Why are you asking?”