Promise, Texas

by Debbie Macomber

  CHAPTER 22

  Jeannie hadn’t seen Adam since their disagreement at the movies. In retrospect she recognized that the argument had been about much more than her conversation with Val Langley.

  What she’d been telling Adam was that she admired the woman for her suave sophistication, her intellect and cosmopolitan attitude. Val Langley was everything she wasn’t. Frustrated, Jeannie thought of herself as simple and homespun—while Val was anything but. Like fried chicken versus coq au vin. Bowling versus nightclubbing.

  When Jeannie walked down the street, she longed to have men look at her the way they did Val, who wore double-breasted business suits with tight short skirts. Or sleek silk pantsuits. As a first-grade teacher, Jeannie often chose long loose dresses for work, which made getting down on the floor with the children a lot easier.

  The thing was, Jeannie got the feeling that Adam wasn’t impressed by Val, which seemed to suggest, somehow, that he doubted Jeannie’s judgment and disapproved of her aspirations.

  As for Richard Weston—okay, she had to admit Adam had a point there. Jeannie had since learned more about Weston and the crimes that had landed him in prison. She hadn’t meant to defend him, and wouldn’t have if Adam’s attitude hadn’t irritated her so much.

  The rest of the afternoon had been even worse. She decided her initial instincts were right; there was no future in this relationship.

  Adam had apparently reached the same conclusion. He’d taken her home as soon as the movie ended. Then, standing back, his fingertips tucked into his belt, he’d told her goodbye. He hadn’t said another word, simply turned and walked away.

  Her initial reaction was a mixture of fury and self-righteousness. Adam was high-handed, arrogant, just plain wrong.

  But in the week since their movie date, she’d had plenty of time for serious thinking, and she’d begun to revise her opinions. She’d come to see that her reactions resulted from hurt pride that he’d questioned her judgment, from resentment at his giving her orders and from a misplaced dissatisfaction with her life.

  Her resentment had quickly dissolved and she’d learned the truth about Richard, the truth about Val, and most important, the truth about herself. Her life, homespun though it might be, was right for her.

  To fill in the gap Adam had left, Jeannie was doing more reading than ever. Exploring Bitter End had piqued her interest in the period after the Civil War. Late Thursday afternoon, she stopped by Tumbleweed Books to pick up a new volume on Western history that Annie had ordered for her.

  She stepped out of the bookstore and nearly collided with Adam as he was leaving his father’s western-wear shop. Her breath caught in her throat at the unexpectedness of their meeting. She thought at first that he meant to ignore her, then realized he was as flustered as she was.

  She, for one, could be civil about this. “Hello, Adam.”

  “Jeannie.” He touched the brim of his hat.

  “How are you?” they asked simultaneously.

  Jeannie didn’t know how to answer him. She felt torn—wanting to resume their relationship but uncertain about the wisdom of doing so. After the things he’d said, the things he’d suggested, their continual misunderstandings, she should just walk on.

  Instead, she stayed.

  He stayed, too.

  Before either of them had the opportunity to say anything more, Adam’s father came out of the store and confronted them both.

  “You two going to stare at each other like a pair of lost puppies or you going to settle this squabble?”

  “Dad…” Adam warned, glaring at his father.

  Max ignored his son and turned to Jeannie. “You know what Adam’s problem is, don’t you? That boy’s been besotted from the minute he first laid eyes on you. I swear, I’ve never seen anything like it. His mother and I’ve been after him to find a good woman, but up until now he’s—”

  “Dad, stay out of this!” Adam sounded angry now.

  “I’d be happy to,” Max said in exasperation, “if I felt you were going to clear up whatever’s wrong between you and Jeannie.” Then, turning to Jeannie again, he added, “You do want to set things straight, don’t you?”

  Adam seemed to be interested in her response, too.

  “I…” She’d almost managed to convince herself she didn’t want Adam back in her life. It seemed the most sensible course, a way of avoiding heartache. And yet…

  “That answers that,” Adam muttered as he started to move away.

  “I want to resolve this!” Jeannie cried urgently. “I really do.”

  Adam hesitated.

  Max evidently considered himself vindicated and cast his son a glance that seemed to suggest Adam listen to his advice more often. “Perhaps you two should go have a cup of coffee,” he suggested. “Talk everything out. Share an order of nachos at the Mexican Lindo.”

  “Jeannie?” Adam looked to her.

  “With jalapeños on the side, okay?”

  He agreed with a quick grin and a sexy lift of his eyebrows.

  Max Jordan was obviously pleased with himself. He ushered them toward the Mexican Lindo, one hand on Adam’s back, the other on hers. “Take your time,” he urged. “No need to rush. Talk everything out. You two belong together. Margaret thinks so, and she’s always right about these things.”

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Adam grimaced and said, “You’ll have to forgive my father.”

  “Actually, I was planning to thank him.”

  Adam’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t speak again until they entered the restaurant. The owner and his wife sat at a table going over some paperwork.

  Adam raised his hand in greeting. “Carlos, Aracelli.”

  “What can I get for you, amigo?”

  “Nachos, with jalapeños on the side, and iced tea.”

  Carlos slipped out of the booth and headed for the kitchen.

  Jeannie was grateful they were the only customers, but at the same time she felt oddly self-conscious. She and Adam being alone established an immediate mood of intimacy.

  “Where would you like to start?” Adam asked after their drinks had been served.

  Jeannie knew how she thought the conversation should go. “I’d say an apology is in order.”

  “All right,” Adam said, his face tightening. “I apologize. I was overbearing and opinionated and should never have said the things I did.”

  Jeannie’s mouth fell open. “You’re apologizing to me?”

  “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “Yes…no. I was about to tell you how sorry I was.”

  “You?”

  She nodded. “Oh, Adam, I was so foolish. I was defending someone I didn’t even know because…because…”

  “Because I was so high-handed,” he supplied on a rueful note. “I put you in a position where you were forced to defend Richard Weston.”

  “I wasn’t defending Richard as much as Val Langley,” Jeannie admitted, remembering their conversation. “And I was wrong, so wrong. I knew it last week, but I assumed you’d washed your hands of me.”

  “I figured you were just as glad to be rid of me.”

  That was exactly what she’d tried to tell herself, exactly what she’d wanted to believe. But it wasn’t true. She’d missed him, missed his friendship…missed his kisses.

  Their order arrived and Jeannie reached for a nacho, dripping with melted cheese. The chip was halfway between the plate and her mouth when Adam said, “What my dad said is true.”

  “You’re besotted with me?” Jeannie said with a delighted smile. She loved the old-fashioned words, loved the way they sounded and the way they made her feel. Most of all, she was thrilled and reassured because of what this told her—that Adam cared as much as she did.

  “I’m crazy about you, Jeannie. It’s no good to pretend otherwise. You don’t have to say anything, but I wanted you to know I love you.”

  “But, Adam, don’t you see?” she whispered. “I love you, too, but I’v
e been so afraid I’d ruined everything. I was afraid you wouldn’t want anything more to do with me. Um, I should tell you I…have a bit of a stubborn streak.”

  Adam hooted with laughter. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Hey, you have your share of faults, too, Mister Sheriff.”

  He raised both hands. “Guilty.”

  “We’re going to have to put a lot of time and effort into this relationship if it’s going to work,” she said seriously. The practical side of her was showing, but she didn’t think Adam minded.

  “I’m willing,” he told her with a slow lazy grin that stirred feeling deep inside her.

  “I am, too.” He wasn’t perfect, but then neither was she. And he loved her just the way she was.

  The door to the restaurant opened and Travis Grant entered. “They’re in here.” He tossed the words over his shoulder. Grady Weston and Val Langley followed close behind him.

  “You looking for me?” Adam asked in crisp businesslike tones. He grabbed his hat. “Trouble?”

  “Actually, we need to talk to both of you,” Grady said, sliding into the booth next to Adam.

  Val claimed the seat beside Jeannie, and Travis pulled up a chair. Adam indicated that they should all help themselves to nachos. Grady and Travis had no qualms, but Val regarded the pile of cheese-coated chips with distaste.

  “You had a question?” Adam asked.

  “More a difference of opinion,” Val said, folding her arms as though to put distance between herself and the others.

  “Tell me the story of One-Eyed Jack again, would you?” Travis asked Jeannie.

  “I’ve already told you everything I know,” Jeannie said. “He lost his eye in the Civil War and later became the leader of a band of renegade soldiers who rode across Texas, wreaking havoc wherever they went.”

  “But you said he robbed a Union paymaster, right?”

  “As I recall. Left the poor guy for dead.”

  “Whatever happened to the gold coins?”

  “You’re asking me?”

  “So you don’t know if that gold was ever recovered or not?”

  Jeannie shrugged. “No, I don’t have any idea.”

  “I do,” Travis said. “I have a very good idea what happened to it.”

  It was useless to try to work, and Lucas knew it. Saturday afternoon, he returned to his office, pulled down the shades and closed the door. He sat in the semidark room trying to sort through his thoughts.

  When Annie told him about the baby, Lucas had reacted with anger. He’d hurt her, but she’d hurt him, too. He’d felt confused and betrayed. And he’d felt like a fool, a laughingstock. It seemed everyone in town knew his wife was pregnant before he did. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but he felt he should have been the first to know.

  That morning, he’d awakened to the sound of Annie vomiting. He’d wiped her face with a warm washcloth, then brought her a glass of water and two soda crackers, saying Julia had found those helpful. She’d nodded and thanked him.

  Heather and Hollie had guessed something was wrong, but didn’t ask questions. Annie had already left for the bookstore accompanied by the girls, who were helping her with Story Time. Lucas headed for his office. But he hadn’t been worth a damn all day, and he knew he wouldn’t be until he’d settled this with Annie. Abruptly he got up and started out.

  Lucas arrived at the store, sincerely hoping Gina was there that afternoon; he wanted to talk to Annie without the interruption of customers.

  The bell above the door jangled when he entered Tumbleweed Books. His wife glanced up—and froze when she saw him. She recovered quickly, turning her gaze away.

  “Is Gina here?” he asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Clearly she wasn’t, much to his disappointment. “Where are the kids?”

  “Gina isn’t working today,” Annie explained. “She’s helping her mom with a big flower order. And the girls went out for ice cream with Caroline and her two.”

  He took a couple of steps farther into the store. “Can we talk?”

  She nodded, but still refused to look at him.

  “I’m sorry, Annie.”

  “For what?” she asked with a thin smile.

  “For everything. Mainly for the way I acted when you told me about the baby.”

  “I was the one who wanted a child,” she reminded him. “It was my stipulation for the marriage, not yours. There’s no reason for you to be happy that I’m pregnant.”

  “But I am! I’m thrilled.”

  The bell went as a customer entered the store. Lucas turned around and groaned at the sight of Louise Powell. The town’s biggest gossip—just his luck. The older woman glared at him, defying him to challenge her right to be in the store.

  “Hello, Annie,” Louise said. “Lucas,” she added with less enthusiasm.

  “Louise.” Lucas nodded in her direction.

  “The book you ordered should be in on Monday afternoon,” Annie told her.

  “But Louise doesn’t have time to linger, do you, Louise?” Lucas muttered.

  “As a matter of fact—”

  “As a matter of fact,” Lucas interjected, “Annie’s about to close the store.”

  “I am?”

  “You are,” Lucas returned sweetly.

  “She is?” Louise asked.

  Lucas nodded. “I apologize for the inconvenience. I really am sorry, but I need to talk to my wife.”

  Louise’s eyes lit up. “Oh, you should, you should, and don’t either of you mind me while I browse around the store.” Her spectacles slid down her nose as she smiled benevolently at Lucas and Annie.

  “Unfortunately, this is a private conversation.” Lucas walked over to the door and held it open for her.

  Louise glanced from Annie to Lucas apparently trying to gauge how much of a fuss she should make about being kicked out of the bookstore, not once but twice.

  “I’m sorry, Louise,” Annie told her customer, “but my husband’s right. We do need to talk.”

  The woman seemed to gather her composure. “Well, I’ve never been treated so rudely in all my life.” Her nose was aimed at the ceiling and she sailed through the door.

  “Louise,” Annie called out to her in a stage whisper.

  Louise paused, her back to Annie.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “You are?” Louise whirled around. “Does anyone else know?”

  “Jane Patterson,” Annie told her.

  “Cal and Glen,” Lucas added. “Frank and Dovie Hennessey.”

  “No one else?”

  Annie grinned conspiratorially. “Not yet.”

  “Congratulations,” Louise said and was gone so fast she was practically a blur. As soon as she’d left, Lucas turned the sign in the window to Closed and latched the door.

  Now that they weren’t likely to be interrupted, he found himself at a loss as to where he should start.

  “I didn’t think I’d get pregnant this soon,” Annie said, easing the way for him.

  “I didn’t, either, but that doesn’t matter. I’m happy about it.”

  Her gentle smile touched him. “It wasn’t part of our agreement that I love you,” he said, “but I—”

  “I know.” She cut him off. “It doesn’t matter, really it doesn’t. I’ve accepted that, but I didn’t stop to think—didn’t stop to consider the baby. I do hope you’ll love our child.”

  It never occurred to Lucas that he wouldn’t. “I already do, the same way I love his or her mother.”

  Annie went still, as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. “Are you saying you love me?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. That’s what I came here to tell you.” The distance between them dissolved as she raced toward him. Lucas met her more than halfway, hauling her into his embrace, finding her mouth with his own and kissing her with an intensity that left her in no doubt of his feelings.

  “We need to call Pastor McMillen,” he whispered, holding Annie against hi
m.

  “Wade? But why?”

  “I want us to get married.”

  “We are married.”

  Lucas heard the smile in her voice and felt like laughing himself. “I want us to repeat our vows. Only this time I’m not going to delete any words. I love you, Annie, heart and soul.”

  “Oh, Lucas, I love you, too.”

  He continued to hold her, his arms wrapped about her waist. “For the life of me, I can’t imagine why you should, but I’m grateful, so very grateful that you do.”

  “I can give you a hundred reasons why I love you,” she insisted, “but, most important, you’re the father of my children.”

  Children. Annie included Heather and Hollie as her own. The motherless little girl had grown up to become the mother of two lonely children. Had brought light and life back to a hurt struggling family. He knew that Heather and Hollie were the children of Annie’s heart, and she’d love them and guide them as she would the child who grew within her body.

  A knock at the glass door interrupted them, and Lucas turned to find both his daughters with their faces pressed against the window. Caroline stood behind them, pointing, then waved when she caught his eye. She headed off, across the street.

  “Hi, Dad,” Heather said when he unlatched the door. “What are you doing here?”

  “Visiting Annie.”

  “You and Annie were kissing again,” Hollie said.

  “Yup.” Lucas brought his daughters into his embrace. “Annie and I have some news for you.”

  “I bet you’re gonna have a baby,” Heather said.

  “When did you get so smart?” Lucas asked her.

  “Are you really?” Hollie’s eyes lit with excitement. “This time I want a brother, okay?”

  The bell jangled again and Louise Powell stuck her head inside. “Are you open for business or not?” she demanded.

  “Open,” Lucas answered for Annie.

  “You’re leaving?” Annie asked him.

  He loved the disappointment he heard in his wife’s voice. “Sorry, but I’ve got to see a man about a wedding.” Feeling almost light-headed with relief, Lucas hurried out the door with Heather and Hollie in tow. He whistled “The Wedding March” all the way to the parsonage.