by Diana Palmer
He bent and brushed the soft hair away from her cheek and kissed the pale white line that ran alongside her ear. “We’ll think of it as a beauty mark,” he whispered. “We’ll tell the children that you got it fighting tigers in Malaya, just to make it sound better.”
Her eyes searched his. “You’re going to let me stay?” she asked softly.
He touched her mouth with his fingers. “How can I let you go now?” he asked quietly. “But we may both live to regret it, Dana.”
She shook her head. “Not ever.”
She said it with such conviction that he averted his eyes on a heavy, ragged sigh. He caught her hand in his and held it tightly.
“I saw you on television,” she mentioned, grinning. “You looked so handsome—my roommate said you were a dish.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t feel like a dish. I was missing you and hurting in ways I hadn’t dreamed I could.”
“Me and not Layn?”
He looked haunted for an instant, and the big hand holding hers contracted roughly. “I needed something to drive you away when Dr. Shane told me the truth. I couldn’t bear the thought of subjecting you to what might happen.” He shrugged. “It seemed the thing to do at the time. I knew you’d never go if you knew the truth.” He glanced down at her. “You’re far too caring a person to desert a sinking ship.”
She nuzzled close to him, sighing. “You never really cared about her, then?”
“No. And she knew it—she knew exactly what I was doing. I’m still not sure why she went along with it, unless she thought she might have a chance with me again.” He lifted his hand and let it fall. “She found out pretty quickly that she didn’t. By that time I was so much in love with you that I couldn’t see her for dust.”
“There was something strange in your voice when you called me from Savannah,” she confessed. “I couldn’t help wondering at the time if you were really telling me the truth about being able to see again.”
“Oh, I could see all right. And not just in any visual sense,” he added on a hard sigh. “I could see you living with this time bomb in my head.”
“We all carry time bombs around with us, Gannon,” she said gently. “Of one kind or another. None of us knows the hour of our own death. It’s just as well too: we’d never accomplish anything. You might survive me.”
“Horrible thought,” he said curtly. He looked down at her with all his heart in his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to live without you.”
“But you were going to condemn me to it, weren’t you?” she accused. She reached up and touched his face as she’d longed to for so many empty weeks. “I want you to come home with me and meet my father and my stepmother and my aunt. I think—I hope—you’ll like them.”
“You’ve made your peace, I see,” he observed.
She smiled. “I found that I quite like my stepmother. She’s just what my father needed. I kind of like him too. We cleared up a lot of misunderstandings; we’re closer now than ever before. And best of all, I’ve come to grips with my own guilt and my grief. I’ll always miss my mother, but I realize now that she’s better off.”
“God does know best,” he murmured, smiling at the look on her face. “Oh, yes, I’ve done my bit of changing. I’ve realized that there’s much more to life than the making and spending of money.”
She reached up and kissed him. “I’ve arrived at the same conclusion. When are you going to marry me?”
“You’ve only just proposed,” he reminded her. “A man can’t be rushed into these things, after all. I have to buy a suit and have my hair done….”
“Stop that,” she muttered, hitting him lovingly.
“Well, if you don’t mind an untidy bridegroom, I suppose we could get married Monday.”
“That’s only three days away!” she gasped.
He shrugged. “Well, we can do it sooner, I suppose; I just thought…”
“Monday is fine!” she said quickly, laughing. “Oh, Monday is just fine!”
“Then let’s go and call my minster and see about getting a license,” he said. He stood up, drawing her with him. “Lovely, lovely woman. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
“You’re certainly the handsomest,” she murmured. “What gorgeous sons we’ll have!”
He chuckled, leading her down the beach. “Our daughters aren’t going to be bad, either,” he observed.
ISBN: 978-142681-575-1
BLIND PROMISES
Copyright © 1984 by Diana Palmer
Originally published under the name Katy Currie
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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