Return to Promise

by Debbie Macomber

  “Good,” Glen answered for both of them.

  No more than a minute later they were both served generous slices of pie. “Enjoy,” she said cheerily.”

  Phil reached for his fork. “No problem there.”

  Glen wasn’t as quick to grab his own fork. He had a lot on his mind.

  “You want to talk to me about something?” Phil asked, busy doctoring his coffee.

  Glen left his black and raised the mug, sipping carefully.

  “I didn’t figure you were willing to buy me a slice of pecan pie for nothing.”

  Glen chuckled. Of the two sons, he shared his father’s temperament. Their mother had been a take-charge kind of woman and Cal got that from her, but she’d never held her hurts close to the chest, like Cal did.

  “I take it you’re worried about your brother.” Phil picked up his fork again and cut into his pie.

  “Yeah.” Glen stared down at his favorite dessert and realized he didn’t have much of an appetite. “What can I say to him?”

  “Listen.” Phil leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table. “When your mother was alive and we had the bed-and-breakfast, she was constantly trying new recipes.”

  Glen couldn’t understand what his mother’s cooking had to do with the current situation, but he knew better than to ask. Phil would get around to explaining sooner or later.

  “No matter what time of day it was, she’d sit down and dish up a serving. When I asked her why, she said it was important to try a little of it herself before she served it to anyone else.”

  “Okay,” Glen said, still wondering what the connection was between his mother’s culinary experiments and Cal and Jane.

  “Advice is like that. Take some yourself before you hand it to others.”

  “I haven’t given Cal any advice.” Not for lack of trying, however. Cal simply wasn’t in the mood to listen to it.

  “I realize that. The advice is going to come from me, and I’m giving it to you—free of charge.”

  Glen laughed, shaking his head.

  “Let Cal and Jane settle this matter themselves.”

  “But, Dad…”

  Phil waved his fork at him. “Every couple has problems at one time or another. You and Ellie will probably go through a difficult patch yourselves, and when you do, you won’t appreciate other people sticking their noses in your business.”

  “Do you think Cal and Jane are going to be okay?”

  “Of course they are. Cal loves Jane. He isn’t going to do anything to jeopardize his family. Now eat your pie, or I just might find an excuse to help myself to a second slice.”

  Glen picked up his fork. His father knew what he was talking about; Cal did love Jane, and whatever was wrong would eventually right itself.

  Jane noticed a change in Cal the moment he came into the house. They’d been ignoring each other all week. The tension was taking its toll, not only on her but on the children.

  Her husband paused in the middle of the kitchen, where she was busy putting together Halloween costumes for the children. As usual the church was holding a combined harvest and Halloween party.

  Jane didn’t leave her place at the kitchen table, nor did she speak to Cal. Instead, she waited for him to make the first move, which he did. He walked over to the stove and poured himself a cup of coffee, then approached the table.

  “What are you doing?” he asked in a friendly voice.

  “Making Mary Ann a costume for the church party.” She gestured at a piece of white fabric printed with spots. “She’s going as a dalmatian,” Jane said.

  Cal grinned. “One of the hundred and one?”

  Jane nodded and held up a black plastic dog nose, complete with elastic tie.

  “What about Paul?”

  “He’s going as a pirate.”

  Cal cradled his mug in both hands. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “Please.”

  He pulled out the chair and set his coffee on the table. For at least a minute, he didn’t say a word. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, deliberate. “This whole thing about Nicole Nelson is totally out of control. If you need reassurances, then I’ll give them to you. I swear to you not a damn thing happened.”

  Jane said nothing. It’d taken him nearly two weeks to tell her what she already knew. His unwillingness to do so earlier had hurt her deeply. In her heart she knew she could trust her husband, but his pride and stubbornness had shut her out.

  This situation with Nicole was unfortunate. Not wanting to put Annie in the middle—it was awkward with Nicole working at Tumbleweed Books—Jane had asked general questions about the other woman. Annie had assured her that she liked Nicole. After their talk, Jane was convinced that the encounter between Nicole and Cal, whatever it was, had been completely innocent.

  Because they lived in a small town, the story had spread quickly and the truth had gotten stretched out of all proportion; Jane understood that. What troubled her most was Cal’s attitude. Instead of answering her questions or reiterating his love, he’d acted as if she’d been the one to wrong him. Well, she hadn’t been out there generating gossip! Still, she felt a sense of relief that their quarrel was ending.

  Jane found her husband staring at her intently.

  “Can we put this behind us?” Cal asked.

  Jane smiled. “I think it’s time, don’t you?”

  Cal’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded. The next thing Jane knew, she was in her husband’s arms and he was kissing her with familiar passion. “I’m crazy about you, Jane,” he whispered, weaving his fingers into the thick locks of her hair.

  “I don’t like it when we fight,” she confessed, clinging to him.

  “You think I do?” he asked. “Especially over something as stupid as this.”

  “Oh, Cal,” she breathed as he bent to kiss her again.

  “Want to put the kids to bed early tonight?”

  She nodded eagerly and brought her mouth to his. “Right after dinner.”

  Afterward, Jane felt worlds better about everything. They’d both been at fault to let the situation drag on, and they both swore it wouldn’t happen again.

  For the next few days Cal was loving and attentive, and so was Jane, but it didn’t take them long to slip back into the old patterns. The first time she became aware of it was the night of the church harvest party.

  Amy McMillen, the pastor’s wife, had asked Jane to arrive early to assist her in setting up for the big do. She’d assumed Cal would be driving her into town. Instead, he announced that he intended to stay home and catch up on paperwork. Jane made sure Cal knew she wanted him to attend the function with her, that she needed his help. Managing both children, plus assisting with one of the games, would be virtually impossible otherwise. But she decided not to complain; she’d done so much of that in the past couple of months.

  When it came time for her to leave, Cal walked her and the children out to the car. Once she’d buckled the kids into their seats, she started the engine, but Cal stopped her.

  “You’ve got a headlight out.”

  “I do? Oh, no…”

  “I don’t want you driving into town with only one headlight.”

  Jane glanced at her watch.

  “Take the truck,” he advised. “I’ll change the car seats.”

  “But—”

  “Sweetheart, please, it’ll just take a minute.” Fortunately his truck was a large four-door variety with ample space for both seats.

  “What’s this?” Jane asked. In front, on the passenger side was a cardboard box with a glass casserole dish.

  Cal took one look at it and his eyes rushed to meet hers. “A dish,” he muttered.

  “Of course it’s a dish. Whose dish?”

  He shrugged as if it was no big deal. “I don’t know if I mentioned it, but Dovie and Savannah brought me meals while you were away,” he said, wrapping the safety belt around Mary Ann’s car seat and snapping it into place.

  “You mean to s
ay half the town was feeding you and you still managed to nearly destroy my kitchen?”

  Cal chuckled.

  “I meant to return the dish long before now.” He kissed Jane and closed the passenger door. “I’ll see to that headlight first thing tomorrow morning,” he promised, and opened the door on the driver’s side.

  Jane climbed in behind the wheel. Normally she didn’t like driving Cal’s vehicle, which was high off the ground and had a stick shift. She agreed, however, that in the interests of safety, it was the better choice.

  The church was aglow when Jane drove up. Pastor Wade McMillen stood outside, welcoming early arrivals, and when he saw Jane, he walked over and helped her extract Mary Ann from her car seat.

  “Glad to have you back, Jane,” he said. “I hope everything went well with your father.”

  “He’s doing fine,” she said, although that wasn’t entirely true. She was in daily communication with her mother. It seemed her father wasn’t responding to the chemotherapy anymore and grew weaker with every treatment. Her mother was at a loss. Several times she’d broken into tears, and asked Jane to talk Cal into letting her and the children come back for a visit over Christmas. Knowing how Cal would react, she hadn’t broached the subject yet.

  “Would you like me to carry in that box for you?” Wade asked.

  “Please.” What a good idea. Both Dovie and Savannah would be at the church party, and there was no reason to keep that casserole dish in the truck.

  “I’ll put it in the kitchen,” Wade told her, leading the way.

  Paul saw the display of pumpkins and dried cornstalks in the large meeting room and gave a shout of sheer delight. Although it was early, the place was hopping, and children ran in every direction.

  Jane followed the pastor into the kitchen, and sure enough, found Dovie there.

  “I understand this is yours,” Jane said when Wade set the box down on the countertop.

  Dovie shook her head.

  “Didn’t you send dinner out to Cal?”

  “I did, but he already returned the dishes.”

  “It must belong to Savannah, then,” she said absently.

  Not until much later in the evening did Jane see Savannah and learn otherwise. “Well, for heaven’s sake,” she muttered to Ellie as they were busy with the cleanup. “I don’t want to drag this dish back home. Do you know who it belongs to?”

  Ellie went suspiciously quiet.

  “Ellie?” Jane asked, not understanding at first.

  “Ask Cal,” her sister-in-law suggested.

  “Cal?” Jane repeated and then it hit her—like a lightning bolt. She knew exactly who owned that casserole dish. And asking Cal was what she intended to do. Clearly more had gone on while she was away than he’d admitted. How dared he do this to her!

  Glen carried the box containing the dish back to the truck for her. Tired from the party, both Paul and Mary Ann fell asleep long before she turned off the highway onto the dirt road that led to the house.

  No sooner had she parked the truck than the back door opened and Cal stepped out. Although it was difficult to contain herself, she waited until both children were in bed before she brought up the subject of the unclaimed dish.

  “I ran into Dovie and Savannah,” she said casually as they walked into the living room, where the television was on. Apparently her husband didn’t have as much paperwork as he’d suggested.

  “Oh? How was the party?”

  Jane ignored the question. “Neither one of them owns that casserole dish.”

  Jane watched as Cal’s shoulders tensed.

  “Tell me, Cal Patterson, who does own it?”

  Cal strode to the far side of the room, putting the entire length of the room between them.

  “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten,” Jane said.

  He shook his head.

  A sick feeling was beginning to build in the pit of her stomach. “Cal?”

  “Sweetheart, listen—”

  “All I want is a name,” she interrupted, folding her arms and letting her actions tell him she was in no mood to be cajoled.

  Cal started to say something, then stopped.

  “You don’t need to worry,” Jane said without emotion. “I figured it out. That dish belongs to Nicole Nelson.”

  Chapter Six

  Cal couldn’t believe this was happening. Okay, so his wife had reason to be upset. He probably should’ve mentioned that Nicole Nelson had brought him a meal. The only reason he hadn’t was that he was hoping to avoid yet another argument. He knew how much their disagreements distressed her, and she’d been through so much lately. He’d just been trying to protect her!

  Without a word to him, Jane had gone to bed. Cal gave her a few minutes to cool down before he ventured into the bedroom. The lights were off, but he knew she wasn’t asleep.

  “Honey,” he said, and sat on the edge of the bed. Jane had her back to him and was so far over on her side of the bed it was a wonder she hadn’t tumbled out. “Can we talk about this?” he asked, willing to take his punishment, and be done with it.

  “No.”

  “You’re right, I should’ve told you Nicole came to the ranch, but I swear she wasn’t here more than fifteen minutes. If that. She dropped off the casserole and that was it.”

  Jane flopped over onto her back. “Are you sure, or is there something else you’re conveniently forgetting to mention?”

  Cal could live without the sarcasm, but let it drop. “I thought we’d decided to put this behind us.” He could always hope tonight’s installment of their ongoing argument would be quickly settled. The constant tension between them had worn his patience thin.

  Jane suddenly bolted upright in bed. She reached for the lamp beside her bed and flipped the switch, casting a warm light about the room. “You have a very bad habit of keeping things from me.”

  That was unfair! Cal thought. He took a deep calming breath before responding. “It’s true I didn’t tell you Nicole fixed me dinner, but—”

  “You didn’t so much as mention her name!”

  “Okay…but when was I supposed to do that? You were in California, remember?”

  “We talked on the phone nearly every night,” Jane said, crossing her arms. “Now that I think about it, you kept the conversations short and sweet, didn’t you? Was there a reason for that?”

  Again, Cal resented the implication, but again he swallowed his annoyance and said, “You know I’m not much of a conversationalist.” Chatting on the phone had always felt awkward to him. Jane knew that.

  “What else haven’t you told me about you and Nicole Nelson? How many other times have you two met without my knowing? When she brought you dinner, did she make a point of joining you? Did you accidentally bump into each other in town a couple of times?”

  “No,” he answered from between gritted teeth.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Dammit, Jane, you make it sound like I’m having an affair with her! I’ve done nothing wrong, not a damn thing!”

  “Tell me why I should believe you, seeing how you habitually conceal things from me.”

  “You think I purposely hid the truth?” Their marriage was in sad shape if she made such assumptions. Jane was his partner in life; he’d shared every aspect of his business, his home and his ranch with her, fathered two children with her. It came as a shock that she didn’t trust him.

  “What about the rodeo?” she asked. “You signed up for the bull-riding competition and you deliberately didn’t mention it to me.”

  “I knew you didn’t want me participating in the rodeo, and—”

  “What I don’t know won’t hurt me, right?”

  She had a way of twisting his words into knots no cowhand could untangle, himself included. “All right, all right, you win. I’m a rotten husband. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?”

  Her eyes flared and she shook her head. “What I want to hear is the truth.”

  “I tell you the truth
!” he shouted, losing his temper.

  “But not until you’re backed into a corner.”

  “I’ve been as honest with you as I know how.” Cal tried again, but he’d reached his limit. Glen had advised him to say what he had to say, do what he had to do—whatever it took to make up with Jane. He’d attempted that once already, but it hadn’t been enough. Not only was she not satisfied, now she was looking to collect a piece of his soul right along with that pound of flesh.

  “Why didn’t you attend the church party with me and the kids?” she asked.

  He frowned. Jane knew the answer to that as well as he did. “I already told you. I had paperwork to do.”

  “How long did it take you?”

  Cal ran a hand down his face. “Is there a reason you’re asking?”

  “A very good one,” she informed him coolly. “I’m trying to find out if you slipped away to be with Nicole.”

  If his wife had pulled out a gun and shot him, Cal couldn’t have been more staggered. He jumped off the bed and stood there staring, dumbstruck that Jane would actually suggest such a thing.

  “I noticed you had the television on,” she continued. “So you finished with all that paperwork earlier than you anticipated. Did you stop to think about me coping with the children alone? All you wanted was a quiet evening at home while I was left to manage the children, the party and everything else on my own.”

  “For the love of God, would you listen to yourself?”

  “I am listening,” she shouted. “You sent me off to deal with my family, then you’re seen around town with another woman. If that isn’t enough, you lie and mislead me into thinking I’m overreacting. All at once everything’s beginning to add up, and frankly I don’t like the total. You’re interested in having an affair with her, aren’t you, Cal? That’s what I see.”

  Cal had no intention of commenting on anything so ludicrous.

  “What’s the matter? Am I too close to the truth?”

  Shaking his head, Cal looked down at her, unable to hide his disgust. “Until this moment I’ve never regretted marrying you.” He headed out the door, letting it slam behind him.

  Almost immediately the bedroom door flew open again. “You think I don’t have regrets about marrying you?” Jane railed. “You’re not alone in that department, Cal Patterson.” Once again the door was slammed with such force that he was sure he’d have to nail the molding back in place.