Promise, Texas

by Debbie Macomber

  “Don’t say no,” Heather added, “not until you think about it.”

  “This isn’t like getting a toy from the toy store,” he said, wondering why he bothered trying to explain. “Annie has other plans for her life.”

  “But we want her,” Hollie said in that matter-of-fact way of hers.

  “Promise you’ll think about it, Daddy,” Heather said again. “Please?”

  He’d think about it, all right. For two seconds.

  It was the day of the Cattlemen’s Dance, a day that dragged by slowly. Annie hadn’t seen or talked to Lucas since he’d called to invite her. Sometimes she wondered if she’d imagined the entire conversation. But he’d left a message on her answering machine, saying that he’d pick her up at six. He’d sounded…curt. Businesslike.

  However, there were plenty of signs that she was on his mind, as he was on hers. Heather and Hollie showed up faithfully each Saturday morning for Story Time, but without Lucas. Caroline Weston always brought them with Maggie.

  Both girls were full of excited chatter about their father. The previous Saturday Hollie had whispered to Annie that Lucas had talked about her. The five-year-old hadn’t said anything else, leaving Annie to wonder what Lucas could possibly have said.

  The most telling sign, though, she’d learned in a conversation with Jane earlier in the week.

  “Lucas was asking about you,” Jane had mentioned in an offhand way.

  “About me?” She shouldn’t be this glad.

  “Actually, he asked Cal.”

  “What did he want to know?” It did seem to Annie that if he had any questions, he should come to her.

  “Cal didn’t exactly remember. That’s men for you. It was something about your plans, I think. Or your past.”

  Annie wasn’t sure if she should be insulted or excited. “He already knows about the car accident and the divorce. What more is there to say about me?”

  Until she came here, her entire world seemed to revolve around the events of the past two years, as if there’d never been anything else in her life. That was one of the reasons she’d moved to Promise—to escape the glances, the unspoken questions, the pity friends leveled at her.

  She’d come to Promise to make a fresh start, to escape the past. A past that grew more and more distant as she grew more and more involved in this new life. She hadn’t given Lucas much detail about the accident or the divorce. The woman who’d been in a car crash, whose husband had left her—she didn’t want Lucas or anyone else to define her by those things.

  “You like him, don’t you?”

  The directness of Jane’s question had caught her off guard. Annie nodded. She did like Lucas, more than she cared to admit. He wanted them to be simply friends, and that was fine with Annie. Since the divorce she’d dated a few times, but she hadn’t been ready for a new relationship. Moving to Promise had sped up the healing process considerably; still, a full-fledged romantic relationship was intimidating. No, she figured being friends was all she could handle for now.

  “He’s a good man,” Jane had told her, then gently squeezed Annie’s hand. “He’d never do the things Billy did.”

  Intuitively Annie recognized that.

  They talked a little longer, and Annie noticed that her friend didn’t seem as energetic as usual, but when she pressed, Jane made excuses and left shortly afterward.

  By six o’clock the night of the dance, Annie was eager to see Lucas again.

  He rang her bell and smiled when she opened the door. She liked the look in his eyes when he saw her. Her dress was new and expensive, and the way his eyes widened with appreciation made it worth every budget-crushing penny.

  “Would you mind very much if we talked first—before heading over to the dance?” He seemed nervous, almost ill at ease.

  “Of course I don’t mind. Come on in.” She held the door for him and wondered if tonight would end in disaster. Perhaps she’d put too much stock in Lucas’s invitation. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she asked. “Or a glass of wine?”

  He shook his head as he walked into her tidy living area, then restlessly paced the room.

  “Please—sit down,” she said, motioning toward the furniture.

  “Sit down? Sure.” He chose the chair by the end table, where she kept a stack of reading material.

  Annie took the sofa, sitting on the edge of the cushion, her hands clenched together. “What’s wrong?” It seemed to her something must be.

  “Nothing.” His reassuring smile was all too brief.

  Annie waited, puzzled by his mood.

  “I have…a question to ask you,” he said at last.

  “All right.”

  He stood, walked around the room again, then sat back down. “You know, I’m really grateful you’re being this patient with me.”

  “Is your question that difficult?”

  He snorted a laugh. “As a matter of fact, it is.”

  “Ask away. I promise not to bite your head off.”

  His face relaxed in a smile. “That’s good because…You might not think that once I…” He hesitated, shook his head. “I wasn’t going to do this. It would’ve been much better to wait until after the dance, but I realized as I was walking up the stairs that I couldn’t. The whole night would be miserable if I didn’t get this off my chest right away.”

  “It’s all right, Lucas, really.”

  He nodded and seemed to gather his nerve. “I thought maybe you and I—” He stopped cold, a look of horror on his face.

  “Thought what?”

  “I’ve advertised for a housekeeper.”

  “You want me to give up the bookstore and become your housekeeper?”

  “No,” he protested. “I can hire someone to clean my house, but I can’t hire anyone to love my children. Not the way you seem to. And they love you. I’ve never seen anything like it. From the moment you moved to town, Heather and Hollie knew.”

  “Knew what?” But she thought she’d already figured out the answer. His daughters had recognized that she, too, had been motherless. She understood the empty feeling that invaded a lonely child’s heart.

  “Knew they wanted you for their stepmother,” Lucas answered.

  Annie’s head snapped up. She was wrong. “They want me for their stepmother?”

  “I can only imagine what you must be thinking, and frankly I don’t blame you. I told you I didn’t want anything more than friendship, and I don’t…well, I do, but…” He abandoned that line of thought. “We barely know each other. It’s too soon. I still love Julia and you’ve just come out of a disappointing marriage. People will think we’re both nuts.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, as if he could hardly believe what he was saying.

  Annie felt numb. This had to be a joke. “Are you asking me to marry you, Lucas?”

  He glanced away. “Pretty pathetic proposal, isn’t it?”

  Annie wasn’t going to lie to him. “Yes.” But then, she’d already had romance—all the romance she could handle in this lifetime.

  “I apologize, Annie. I don’t have any excuse for approaching you like this.”

  Annie stood. “Do you still want to go to the dance?”

  He looked up at her and nodded. Slowly Lucas came to his feet. Annie reached for her purse and together they headed for the door. He didn’t speak again until they’d made their way down the stairs at the back of the building and outside, to where he’d parked his truck.

  “Naturally it’d be a marriage of convenience,” he said, resuming the conversation.

  “Your convenience, you mean.” She wasn’t being rude, only truthful.

  He opened the passenger door and paused. “You’re right. But, Annie, I’d do whatever was necessary to make this marriage worthwhile for you, too. My children need a mother and I need…a friend. Someone to come home to in the evenings, someone to talk to at the end of the day. I’m well aware that I have no right to ask you something like this. But we could make it work, I know we cou
ld.”

  “You mean that? You’d do what you could to make this marriage worthwhile for me?” Annie asked.

  “Anything.” His gaze was intense. “Is there something I can do for you, Annie?”

  She accepted his hand and climbed into the truck cab. “As a matter of fact, there is.”

  He held her look, waiting, wondering.

  “I want a baby, Lucas. If you agree to give me a baby, then I’ll marry you.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Jeannie French heard the music drifting through the open doors long before she entered the Grange Hall, where the Cattlemen’s Association held their dance every year. The cars parked along both sides of the road must have stretched half a mile in each direction.

  Bernie Benton’s suggestion that they bring only one vehicle made sense; she could see that now. But she’d come alone, having received two invitations and declined both.

  She liked both men, but Bernie was married and Adam, well, she was afraid she might have been unfair to him. But who could blame her? Every time he got near her something unpredictable happened. Usually something embarrassing.

  As she approached the hall, Jeannie noted a number of people, mostly men, milling around outside. Some were smoking, some had brought out their drinks. All of them seemed to be watching her. That made Jeannie a little uncomfortable. Gee, I hope they approve of my outfit, she thought with sarcastic humor, and that made her feel better.

  After much deliberation Jeannie had chosen the silk blouse Adam had so thoughtfully replaced. She wore it with a long black skirt and matching vest with small silver buttons. This was about as fancy as she got. She’d paid special attention to her hair and makeup and knew she looked good, although she wasn’t really sure who she was trying to impress. Not these guys, anyway. As for Will Osborne, she hadn’t seen him in weeks.

  The hall itself was crowded, but many of the townspeople were either on the dance floor or standing around the edges. Long rows of chairs were set against the walls, and Jeannie saw that some of the town’s older folk had gathered there. Tables were scattered about the room, but each one seemed filled to capacity.

  “Jeannie, over here.” Bernie Benton raised his arm.

  She could pretend she hadn’t heard him but decided against it. With so many people pressing in around her, having somewhere to go gave her a feeling of security and of belonging. She’d seen other teachers and their husbands at his table.

  “Hello, everyone,” she said when she got within hearing distance. Her friends and fellow teachers good-naturedly shifted their chairs to make room for her at the table.

  “Do you want to dance?” Bernie asked, tucking his hand under her elbow.

  “No, thanks. I just got here.” She had to lean toward him to be heard above the music.

  Bernie nodded, but she saw the disappointment in his eyes.

  “Don’t let him pressure you into dancing,” Martie, the school secretary, whispered on her other side. “He’s feeling upset just now. See the woman in the long pink dress? That’s Cheryl. Apparently she came with someone else.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s not your problem.”

  Jeannie nodded, but as she watched Cheryl Benton dance, she caught sight of another familiar figure. Adam Jordan. He was dancing with someone she didn’t recognize and seemed quite agile on his feet. The woman with him appeared to be captivated by whatever he was saying.

  She’d promised Max Jordan she’d personally thank Adam for replacing her ruined blouse, but the opportunity hadn’t yet presented itself. She’d do it tonight. It should be easier now that he’d apparently found someone else.

  “Who’s that with—”

  Before she could complete the sentence, Martie answered. “Cheryl’s with Lyle Whitehead,” she murmured with a frown. “I don’t know what she sees in him. Lyle’s bad news.” At Jeannie’s puzzled look she added, “He’s a known troublemaker.”

  “I meant who’s dancing with Sheriff Jordan.”

  “Oh, sorry.” Martie half stood and glanced to her right, then her left before sitting down again. “The sheriff’s with Dovie Hennessey. I thought you knew Dovie.”

  Jeannie did. Obviously he’d changed partners.

  Bernie had disappeared, and she was pleasantly surprised when someone else asked her to dance. But the music was so loud that other than getting the man’s name, Billy Joe Durkin, Jeannie couldn’t talk to him. When the song ended they applauded politely.

  “Thank you, Billy Joe.”

  “No, ma’am, I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He tipped his hat and escorted her to the table.

  “Billy Joe’s something of a ladies’ man,” Martie told her when she sat back down. “He considers it his duty to make sure that every woman here gets the opportunity to dance with him.”

  “What about Will Osborne?” she asked. “Is he here tonight?”

  “You didn’t hear?” Martie seemed delighted to pass on some gossip. “He married a waitress from Austin a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Oh.” Jeannie felt foolish for having asked. It wasn’t that she was so keen on Will. They’d talked a couple of times, that was all. The only man in Promise who’d shown the least bit of interest in her was Adam Jordan.

  Jeannie was about to comment when a ruckus broke out not far from their table. She turned around to see Bernie Benton nose to nose with Lyle Whitehead. Bernie’s face was red with anger.

  “Let’s settle this outside,” Lyle shouted.

  “Fine with me,” Bernie shouted back.

  “But not with me,” Adam Jordan said, stepping forcefully between the two men. “The problem is, no one bothered to ask me, and I strongly object. In fact, I’ve made it my mission to be sure everyone gets along and has a good time this evening. Are we all clear on this, gentlemen, or do we need to discuss it further at my office?”

  “Whitehead made a move on my wife,” Bernie protested, hands clenched at his sides.

  “She asked for it,” Whitehead snarled. “It isn’t my fault she married a wimp who doesn’t know what a real woman wants.”

  “Oh, no,” Martie said from behind Jeannie.

  “Let me at him,” Bernie cried, and would have gone at the other man with his fists if not for the sheriff.

  With one quick graceful movement, Adam stopped the teacher’s forward progress. At that very second Lyle pulled out a knife.

  Jeannie sucked in her breath, along with everyone else, and strangled a cry as Lyle swung the blade at Adam. She jerked her head away, unable to watch. The crowd roared with disapproval and someone shouted a warning. It wasn’t necessary. Whatever Adam did, he had Lyle flat on the floor almost immediately. Half a minute later, the knife was out of his grasp and he’d been handcuffed.

  Deputy Al Green made his way through the crowd and dragged Lyle to his feet before escorting him outside to a chorus of hisses and catcalls.

  “Lyle’s going to end up in jail this time,” Martie muttered as the music started again. “It’s where he belongs.”

  Jeannie didn’t know or care about Lyle; she couldn’t take her eyes off Adam. This was Adam Jordan? The same man who couldn’t utter a complete sentence in her company? The man who’d ripped her skirt, frightened her out of ten years of her life, locked her keys in the car and spattered her with barbecue sauce? Tonight she’d certainly seen a different side of him.

  For the rest of the evening Jeannie watched him. Not once did he look in her direction. Not once did he give any indication he even knew she was there. He seemed to dance with every woman present, but not with her.

  When a ladies’ choice was announced, Jeannie shocked herself by boldly crossing the room to Adam’s side. “Sheriff?”

  He looked at her as if he didn’t know who she was.

  “Would you like to dance?” she asked, trying not to sound as nervous as she felt.

  Wordlessly he led her onto the dance floor. His hold was loose and he gazed somewhere over her shoulder.

  “I wa
nted to thank you,” she told him.

  “For what? Not asking you to dance all evening?”

  “No,” she said, mortified he’d think such a thing. “For replacing my blouse. You didn’t need to do that.”

  He snickered as if he didn’t believe her. “Well, I was the one who ruined it.”

  “That was an accident,” she said. “At any rate, what you did was very thoughtful, and I want you to know I appreciate it.”

  He didn’t speak during the rest of their dance. Jeannie wished he’d relax, but he held himself stiffly away from her. When the music ended, she wanted Adam to ask her to dance the next round with him; instead, he politely brought her back to the table with Martie and her friends.

  “Thank you,” she said, hoping her disappointment didn’t show. She couldn’t very well blame him after the number of times she’d rejected him.

  “My pleasure.” He touched the rim of his hat and began to move away.

  “Adam,” she called out impulsively. But when he turned back, she couldn’t think of anything to say.

  His smile unnerved her. “Don’t worry, Jeannie, you’ve done your duty.” Having said that, he turned and walked away.

  Cal knew he was being an ass, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. He’d been worried sick about his parents and had taken his impatience and frustration out on Jane. He’d tried to apologize, tried to tell her he didn’t mean the things he’d said, but every time he opened his mouth he only made matters worse.

  When he grumbled about the dance, she’d offered to let him off the hook. Her offer was sincere, although he knew she’d been looking forward to this evening for weeks. He was tempted to take her up on it, but he figured he owed her. As it was, they arrived late; it was nearly nine-thirty when they left the house.

  They barely said a word all the way to the Grange Hall. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” Cal asked as he drove around searching for a parking spot.

  “I’m sure.”

  It wasn’t like Jane to be this quiet. Sure, he’d been a jerk lately, but he loved her and she knew it, at least he prayed she did. “Honey,” he said miserably, filled with regret, “I’m sorry.”