I Promise

by Joan Johnston

Marsh met her stricken glance. Tell him what we mean to each other. Fight for us, he pleaded with his eyes.

  “No, Daddy,” she said at last.

  Ray John held out his arms. “Come here, Delia, honey.”

  In front of Marsh’s disbelieving eyes, Delia crossed past him as though she didn’t know him. She kept going until she reached her father. Ray John put an arm around her shoulder and turned her to face Marsh.

  “You haven’t been seein’ this boy behind my back, have you now, darlin’?”

  Marsh watched Ray John’s fingers tighten like claws on Delia’s shoulder. He silently urged her to look at him, but she kept her gaze lowered.

  “No, Daddy. You know I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Take yourself outta here, boy, and don’t ever let me catch you sniffin’ ’round my girl again.”

  Marsh didn’t say another word, simply turned and left the house. His chest felt as though someone had tightened a steel band around it. He got into his truck and gunned the engine viciously, a mechanical cry of rage as he raced away.

  He felt hurt and confused. Angry and frustrated. No wonder Delia hadn’t wanted him to confront her father. The man was certifiably crazy. Marsh had only made the situation worse: Ray John had forbidden him to see Delia. Her father was certain to keep a closer watch on her now. It would be harder than ever to find a safe time and place to meet.

  Marsh wanted to tell someone what he had witnessed that morning. He wanted to rescue Delia and her sister from their insane father’s clutches. But he could just see Sheriff Davis’s look of disbelief if he went to him with his story. Ray John would surely twist Marsh’s early morning visit to his advantage. Who could blame a father who refused to let the town’s bad boy date his daughter? The sheriff would end up laughing in Marsh’s face.

  He shouldn’t have accepted Ray John’s no. He should have argued with the man. He would have, if Delia had given him any encouragement. But she had let him stand there like some stranger she hardly knew. She had said nothing, done nothing. He could understand why she had remained silent. But it didn’t bode well for their future together.

  They were supposed to meet at the live oak at noon. He intended to be there to ask Delia where they were supposed to go from here.

  Delia couldn’t believe what Marsh had done. How could he have come to her house and confronted her father like that? What had he been thinking? She had told him it would be no use. It had taken a great deal of persuasion after Marsh left to convince Ray John that Marsh meant nothing to her, that he was merely someone she had met when she was tubing with the other kids. She wasn’t entirely sure he believed her.

  They were still discussing the matter when her mother appeared at the door. Delia wished she could believe an ally had arrived, but she knew better.

  Hattie Carson might have held the reins of the Circle Crown with an iron hand that wouldn’t let go even for Ray John Carson, but where Delia and Rachel were concerned, her mother catered to Ray John’s every wish or whim.

  He thought the girls should learn how to handle a gun? Fine. He didn’t want Delia to date? Fine. He wanted Rachel to come right home after school? Fine. He wanted Rachel in bed by 9:00 P.M.? Fine. Delia needed a lock on her door? Fine.

  Delia would never understand how a woman who ran a ranching empire the size of the Circle Crown practically single-handed could let herself be manipulated by some slick-as-goose-grease cowboy. But she did. At least where her daughters were concerned. The unpleasant conclusion Delia had drawn was that the ranch meant more to Hattie than her own flesh and blood.

  “What’s all the commotion about?” Hattie asked as she stepped into Ray John’s gun room. “Rachel said we had a visitor.”

  “That good-for-nothing North boy was here,” Ray John said, “wantin’ my permission to date Delia.”

  Hattie’s eyes widened in alarm. “You refused, of course.”

  “You damn bet I did!”

  Delia dared a glance into her mother’s silvery blue eyes. “Marsh seems like a nice person,” she said.

  “He’s about the worst juvenile delinquent this town has ever known,” Hattie corrected. “Stay away from him, Delia. A boy like that will only cause you trouble.”

  “But, Mama—”

  “Not another word about it, Delia. Your father has spoken.”

  “And that’s it?” Delia demanded, her eyes flashing up to meet her mother’s startled gaze. “Daddy speaks, and we all obey?”

  “Delia!” her mother exclaimed. “What on earth has come over you?”

  “I should be able to see whoever I want. I’m not a child anymore, Mama. I’m nearly grown.”

  “You’re not too big for me to tan your hide,” Ray John threatened.

  Delia gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Both of you stop it,” Hattie ordered. “Your father only has your best interests at heart, Delia. The two of you say you’re sorry and make up.”

  “I’m sorry, Delia, honey.” Ray John slipped his arm around her waist and pinched her hard on her backside where her mother couldn’t see.

  Delia winced, but she had caught his warning. She would pay for her defiance.

  Oh, how she wanted to blurt out everything to her mother, to tear the mask from Ray John’s smiling face and reveal the fiend he was. But it was clear from this small venture into rebellion that her father was right about one thing. When it came to disagreements between her husband and her daughter, her mother was always going to take Ray John’s side.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” Delia mumbled.

  “There, isn’t that better?” Hattie said, putting her arm around Delia from the other side so the three of them were linked. “It took me a while to find the right man, but I’m a fortunate woman to have such a loving husband and wonderful father for you two girls.”

  Delia felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, but with Ray John’s eyes boring into her she said nothing to contradict her mother.

  Fifteen minutes later at the breakfast table, Delia watched her father’s eyes narrow as she explained how she and Peggy were going riding and taking along a picnic lunch. He looked suspicious, but he only said, “You girls stay in the south pasture. I don’t want you anywhere near the North fence line. Do you understand?”

  “All right, Daddy,” she promised, knowing full well she intended to disobey him.

  She met Peggy as planned at eleven-thirty and warned, “My dad expects me to be riding in the south pasture. I’ll meet you by the south gate in a couple of hours, okay?”

  “My mom’s starting to get suspicious.”

  “You don’t think she’ll call my parents, do you?” Delia asked with alarm.

  “Naw. But I’ll be glad when school starts in a few weeks. There’ll be a lot more good excuses for us to get together then.”

  Delia kicked her gelding into a lope. “Be back in two hours,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Delia! Wait, I—”

  Delia kept going. Her horse was lathered by the time she reached the live oak. Marsh was leaning against the tree waiting for her. He came forward to catch her as she took her left foot from the stirrup, lifted her right leg up over the horse’s neck, and slid down into his arms.

  They hugged tightly, as though they had been separated longer than the twenty-four hours since they had last held each other, as though they hadn’t seen each other six hours ago.

  “I thought you’d never get here, Delia. I was afraid you weren’t coming, that your father would keep you at home.” Marsh clung to Delia, overwhelmed by the fear that their time together was coming to an end, that this was only a respite and that disaster loomed.

  She pressed her face against his shoulder. “He suspects something. I know he does. What are we going to do?”

  “I was going to ask you the same question.”

  “Daddy will be watching me like a hawk from now on. It’s going to be harder than ever to get away.” She leaned back and gave him a despairing look from b
eneath lowered lids. “I warned you not to come to the house. Why did you do it, Marsh?”

  He levered her an arm’s length away. “Because I’m tired of sneaking around. Because I want us to be together without having to meet like this.”

  “We have no choice!”

  “Are you ashamed of me, Delia?”

  She shot him a look of disbelief. “How can you even think such a thing!”

  Marsh let her go and shoved a restless hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to think. I only know I want to be able to take you places, enjoy a movie holding hands, have pie and coffee at the Amber Sky. Is that asking so much?”

  “No. I suppose not. Except my father won’t allow it.”

  “There has to be a way to get around your father.”

  Delia folded her arms defensively across her chest. “There isn’t. Why do you think I want to go away to college?”

  He grasped her shoulders. “I feel like I’m already losing you.”

  “We have another year, Marsh.”

  “Another year of pretending we’re strangers when we meet in public? Another year of slinking around meeting you in secret?” His hands tightened on her flesh, but he could already feel her slipping from his grasp.

  “Would you rather we stopped seeing each other?”

  He ground his teeth. “That’s not a choice. I need you too much.” The words were torn from him, from somewhere deep inside him.

  “I need you, too. Please don’t be angry with me. I don’t dare defy my father. You’ve seen him. He gets so mean when he’s angry. He . . .”

  Her tears surprised him. And made his throat ache.

  His arms slid around her, and he pressed his cheek to hers. “Don’t cry, Delia. Please, don’t cry. We’ll figure out a way to be together. Whatever it takes, whatever we have to do, that’s what we’ll do.”

  “I . . . I love you, Marsh.”

  He felt her clutch at his neck. She burrowed her face against his chest as though to get inside his skin. He wondered if she felt the same sense of desperation he did.

  They heard the sound of hoofbeats at the same time. It took only a second for them to identify the rider.

  “It’s my father!” Delia cried. “Oh, God, Marsh! You can’t let him find you here with me. Hide! Quick!”

  “I’m not leaving you alone to face him,” Marsh said.

  “Damn it, Marsh, do what I ask,” Delia said, enraged and terrified. “I can handle him if you’re not here. Just go, please!”

  “I’ll hide in the brush on the other side of the fence,” he said. “I’ll be watching, Delia. If he tries to hurt you—”

  “He won’t. Just go!” She gave him a push and watched him urge his horse through the pasture gate and into the tall yellow grass where he had hidden it the first time she had met him there. A moment later, no sign of either him or his horse remained. But she knew he was there. She could feel his eyes on her.

  She turned to face her father, forcing back the terror she felt at his sudden appearance. Had he followed her? Had he already seen her with Marsh? What could she say to explain her presence here when he had told her to stay away?

  “Hi, Daddy,” she said as he stepped down off his horse. The animal had been ridden hard. Its legs and neck were shiny with sweat, and a salty lather covered its chest.

  “I went lookin’ for you and your friend in the south pasture. Peggy was there, but you weren’t. What are you doin’ here, Delia? Did you come here to meet that boy?”

  “No, Daddy, I—”

  He grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him. “I told you I don’t want you seein’ him.”

  “I wasn’t,” she cried. “I—”

  “Don’t lie to me!” he snarled. “I know what you’re up to, miss hot pants. Don’t think I don’t! You’ve had a taste of it, and now you want to try a different flavor. I got news for you, doll baby. Ain’t no man puttin’ himself inside what’s mine! Is that clear?”

  Delia felt physically ill. Her face bleached as the blood left it in a rush. “Daddy, I—” Her throat closed, making speech impossible.

  “Get on your god damn horse and get home!”

  Ray John gave her a shove toward her horse. She stumbled and nearly fell. When she caught her balance, she saw that Marsh had risen from his hiding place. His face was grim, his hands fisted, his body taut. She shot him a horrified look and mouthed a desperate “No!” He ducked back down as her father turned to face her again.

  “Starting right now,” Ray John said, “you’re grounded. You’re not to leave the house till school starts. You can forget about seein’ that North kid again. As far as you’re concerned, he no longer exists.

  “You’re not goin’ anywhere I can’t keep an eye on you. Get my drift?”

  She got it, all right. She was trapped. Trapped forever.

  She ran to her horse and clambered on. While her father mounted she glanced quickly toward the spot where Marsh was hiding and saw a flash of color.

  He had heard every word her father said. He must have figured out the truth by now. The blood that had left her face came back in a rush, until she felt as though her whole body was on fire. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

  Ray John slapped his reins on her gelding’s rump and the animal bolted. She leaned into the gallop, running away from Marsh as fast as she could, knowing she was leaving behind any hope she had ever had of a life beyond her father’s reach.

  Chapter Six

  Delia lay huddled under the covers in her bed crying. She should be having her period. For the second time in two months, it hadn’t come. The first time she had ignored the problem, hoping it would resolve itself. This time she couldn’t. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know where to turn.

  She hadn’t seen Marsh since the incident three weeks ago with her father. Marsh had tried to contact her through Peggy, but she had refused to see him. She couldn’t bear to see him. Not after what he had heard.

  Now, when she had thought things couldn’t get worse, something worse had happened.

  She was pregnant.

  It wasn’t only the missed periods. She had been sick in the mornings, and her breasts were painfully tender. She was not so ignorant that she didn’t recognize the signs. Her senior year of high school started in two days. She would be delivering a baby, instead of a valedictory address, at graduation.

  She needed to tell someone.

  She couldn’t tell anyone.

  Oh, God, what was she going to do?

  Wretched sobs racked her body, and she muffled them against her pillow. She didn’t hear her door open. She didn’t know anyone was in the room until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  She jerked herself upright and found herself reflected in Rachel’s worried hazel eyes.

  Rachel sat in her nightgown on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under her. The first rays of morning light touched her tangled hair and turned it golden. “Delia? Are you all right?”

  A tear crawled its way down Delia’s cheek. She brushed it angrily away, and clutched her pillow tight against her chest. “Do I look all right?”

  Rachel stared down at the hands knotted tightly in her lap. “Did Daddy hurt you, too?”

  Delia’s heart stopped. For a whole second. “What?”

  Rachel glanced up, and Delia saw the ageless look of despair in her sister’s eyes.

  “I cried, too, Delia. It hurts awfully, doesn’t it?”

  “Rachel . . . Did Daddy . . . ?” She didn’t need to ask. She knew. And felt a terrible, ungovernable rage. Ray John had said if she let him keep using her, he would leave Rachel alone. But he hadn’t.

  Rachel’s revelation also explained why Ray John hadn’t come to Delia’s room once in the past three weeks. Delia had thought it was because he was angry with her. He must have been going to her sister’s bed instead. Oh, poor Rachel!

  “He loves us, Delia. He doesn’t mean to hurt us,” Rachel said in a small voice.

  Delia
recognized the words. They were what Ray John had told her in the beginning, too. She knew them now for the lies they were.

  “He doesn’t love us,” Delia countered. “He doesn’t love anyone but himself.”

  “I . . . I hate him, Delia,” Rachel whispered. “I wish he were dead.”

  Delia watched the tears spurt from her sister’s eyes at this horrendous confession. “Oh, Rachel.”

  The two sisters clung to one another.

  “We have to tell Mama,” Delia said. “We have to go to her and tell her what he’s done to both of us.”

  “We can’t!” Rachel said. “Daddy said—”

  “I know all the things he’s said to keep us from telling on him,” Delia said. “But Mama has to believe both of us together. She won’t have any choice.”

  “I can’t tell Mama. I can’t,” Rachel wailed.

  “Shh,” Delia crooned. “Don’t cry.” She brushed the blond curls back from Rachel’s face and kissed the tears from her cheeks. “I’ll do it for both of us. Mark my words. If Mama gets mad at anyone, it’ll be Ray John, not us. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Rachel looked at her with hope . . . and fear. “Are you sure, Delia?”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Rachel. And it wasn’t mine.”

  Delia felt very powerful suddenly. She would never be a victim again. Ray John had crossed the line when he defiled her sister. Delia was going to make sure he paid for his sins. It was a good thing, she realized, that she would be speaking to her mother alone. Rachel didn’t need to hear the full extent of their father’s heinous deeds. She didn’t need to know he had impregnated his elder daughter.

  Delia thought of having to leave home to go have her baby somewhere else. Somewhere nobody knew her. She felt an ache of loneliness. And a deepening hatred for Ray John Carson.

  “I’ll go see her now,” Delia said. “You go to your room and lock the door and don’t let anyone but me or Mama in.”

  “What if Daddy comes? Sometimes he does, when he gets back from the Kincaid. What if he orders me to unlock the door?”

  “Tell him he isn’t allowed in your bedroom anymore.”