Johnston - I Promise (22 page)

“I have a plane to catch in a few hours,” Rachel said, taking a sip from the coffee cup in front of her. “And I want to go by the hospital to see Mom before I leave.”

Delia leaned back against the sink and looked around her. She peered down the hall at the entrance to Ray John’s gun room. “Being here feels familiar and strange at the same time.”

“This house has that effect on me, too,” Rachel said. “And I’ve been back to visit several times since I got married. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You weren’t worried about me, were you?” Delia asked.

Rachel smiled. “No. I heard Marsh’s truck drive up last night. When you left with him, I figured you wouldn’t be back before morning. Thinking about confronting Cliff was enough to keep me awake.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk,” Delia said.

Rachel arched a disbelieving brow.

Delia laughed. “All right, I’m not at all sorry about the way I spent the night. But I do wish we’d had more time together.”

“We’ll have a lot more time in the future. After I leave Cliff.” Rachel rose and set her cup in the sink, then headed down the hall. “If I don’t go get into the shower pretty soon, I’m going to miss my plane again.”

“Rachel,” Delia called after her.

Rachel paused and looked over her shoulder.

“Thanks for leaving the light on in my room last night.”

The sisters exchanged a look that said everything without saying anything.

“You’re welcome,” Rachel said.

Chapter Twelve

Marsh slipped back into the house without making a sound. He had left the truck at the end of the lane, afraid the rackety thing would wake Billie Jo. He tiptoed down the hall, opened the door to her room, and glanced in-side.

She was still sound asleep, wrapped in her blanket like a bug in a rug.

He padded back down the hall to the kitchen, filled a teakettle with water, and set it on the stove to boil.

Then he let himself think about what had happened last night.

He had made love to many other women in the past. He had even had marathons of sex that left him feeling enervated. But nothing in his memory had ever come close to what he had experienced last night.

He conceded the fact he had loved Delia all these years without admitting it to himself. In sheer determination not to mimic his father’s mistake, he had lived a full life. But he realized now he had only been filling up the desperately long days and months and years without her. When all was said and done, he was as much a one-woman man as his father.

He had suspected that sex between him and Delia would be satisfying. But he had not expected to feel so much. He had not expected his need for her to be so great. He had not expected to feel so wrenched by the thought of letting her go this morning.

What if she returned to New York and left him behind? How would he live the rest of his life without her? Was he willing to pull Billie Jo out of school in Uvalde and leave the ranch so he could go after Delia in New York?

A knock on the door forced him from his reverie. He wanted it to be Delia. He yanked the door open, half-expecting to find her there, although he couldn’t think of a reason why she would be.

A tall, gangly teenage boy with shaggy black hair and sad brown eyes stood at the kitchen door dressed in cutoffs, enormous Nikes, and a sleeveless black Rolling Stones T-shirt cut off to reveal a muscular midriff. “Is Billie Jo ready?”

“Who are you?” Marsh asked. And what was he doing here?

“I’m Todd Hendrickson, sir.” The boy had his hands in his back pockets and shifted from foot to foot. “I . . . uh . . . gave Billie Jo a ride home yesterday. I’m . . . uh . . . we’re going tubing on the Frio today.”

“Isn’t it a little cold for that?” Marsh said. What did Billie Jo think she was doing, making dates with boys without asking his permission?

“The . . . uh . . . sun’s been real warm the past week.”

Marsh stared at the kid. He’d give the boy credit. He wasn’t running. “Who all’s going?” Marsh asked.

“A whole bunch of us from school, sir.”

At least he was still in school. “She’s asleep,” Marsh said.

The kid’s face fell. “Oh.”

Marsh took mercy on the boy. “Come on in and make yourself comfortable while she gets dressed.”

“Uh . . .”

Marsh held open the screen door. “We might as well get acquainted.” He saw that was the last thing the kid wanted, but it wasn’t possible for the boy to run now without losing a lot of teenage face.

“Uh . . . Yes, sir.” He pulled a Colorado Rockies baseball cap off as he stepped inside and shoved it into his back pocket.

Marsh liked the “sirs” because it meant the boy had been raised right, but they made him feel his age. The boy refused a cup of tea, and Marsh didn’t have coffee. He poured the kid a glass of apple juice and set it on the table. “Have a seat while I go wake her up.”

He didn’t wait to see whether Todd did as he’d been told. He was too busy thinking about what he was going to say to Billie Jo. He was a little surprised at himself, that he hadn’t sent Todd away. That must mean he intended to let Billie Jo go out with the boy. The thought of his innocent daughter anywhere near a boy with healthy teenage hormones was unnerving.

He knocked twice and opened the door. “Billie Jo?”

She mumbled something, turned over, and curled right back up again.

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. Otherwise the sound of their voices would carry right down the hall to the kitchen.

He sat beside her on the bed and gave her shoulder a nudge. “Wake up, Billie Jo. You’ve got company.”

Her eyes opened a crack. “Daddy? It’s Saturday. I don’t have school.”

“Todd’s here.”

She bolted upright like a jack-in-the-box. “Todd?” She glanced at the Boston Bruins clock beside her bed. “It’s almost eight o'clock!” she exclaimed. “You didn’t send him away, did you, Daddy?” She was already out of bed and scrambling around the room grabbing cutoffs and stepping into them and pulling them up under the huge T-shirt she had slept in.

“Whoa, pardner,” he said, grabbing her on her way by him. “We have a few things to discuss first.”

“I can’t talk right now, Daddy. I’m late.”

“Sit!” he said, tugging on her arm.

She plopped onto the foot of the bed, her arms crossed mutinously across her chest. “You aren’t going to tell me I can’t go, are you, Daddy? That wouldn’t be fair. Todd is the first person I’ve met I can talk to. We’re not going to be alone. We’re going with a bunch of kids from school.”

“Not Eula, I hope,” Marsh muttered.

Billie Jo flushed. “She won’t be there. I asked. You have to let me go, Daddy. Please.”

He was worried about how she would get along with the other kids. What if someone brought up his past? What if Todd got some bright idea that she was as wild as her father had been? What if Todd tried to make a move on her, and she got her feelings hurt, or worse?

“How well do you know this Todd fellow?” Marsh asked.

“He’s the quarterback of the football team. His father is foreman of a mohair ranch north of town,” Delia said. “His mother is president of the school board.”

Marsh frowned. Not the type of parents who would want their son dating a troublemaker at school, the daughter of “that wild North boy.” “And they approve of Todd taking you out?”

She shifted uneasily. “Not exactly.”

“What, exactly?”

“He said his mother would die if she knew he wanted to go out with me.” Her North chin jutted. “But he said he didn’t care. That he liked me better than any other girl he’s ever met. So you have to let me go with him, Daddy.”

Marsh saw heartache down the road for his daughter. Maybe it would be better if he kept her home today. One look at her eyes, and he knew he wasn’t going to change her feelings for Todd by keeping them separated.

“If he tries anything, you have to promise me you’ll spend the rest of the float with the girls.”

Billie J o started to throw herself into his arms, but caught herself, leaping up from the bed, instead. “Thank you, Daddy. Thank you!”

She ran to her dresser to search for the right shirt to wear.

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth,” he said.

“I won’t.”

“What about breakfast?” He could see she was torn, that the last thing she wanted was breakfast, and that she knew he wanted her to eat something.

“Could you make me some toast? I’ll take it with me.”

“All right. I’ll tell Todd you’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Daddy,” she said.

He turned back.

“Don’t let him leave.”

Marsh grinned. “Don’t worry. If he hasn’t already run, he isn’t going to now.”

Marsh had very little time to grill Todd before Billie Jo showed up in the kitchen doorway. He felt his chest tighten at the sight of her face when she looked at Todd. Her eyes were bright with joy.

“Hello, Todd.”

Todd rose so fast he bumped his knees on the tabletop. “Hi—” His voice broke and he had to clear his throat. “Hi, Billie Jo.”

If his daughter was smitten, so was the boy.

He wished so much for Billie Jo to be happy, wanted so badly for her not to be hurt or disillusioned. But there was nothing he could do except stand back and let her live her life.

And be there if she needed him.

“You two have fun,” Marsh said.

As they headed out the door, Marsh saw Todd relax, certain for the first time that he was going to escape with his prize.

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of her, sir.”

“You do that, Todd,” Marsh replied.

They were almost out the door when Billie Jo turned back and rose on tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy.” Then she hurried after Todd, letting the screen door slam behind her.

They left a trail of dust as Todd’s brand new, chrome-wheeled black Chevy pickup headed down the rutted road.

Marsh made himself a cup of tea and stood there holding it until his aching throat eased enough that he could swallow again.

Chapter Thirteen

“I know I’ve been gone almost a week, but I don’t think I’ll have to be here much longer,” Delia told her secretary. “Tell the
Times
reporter I’ll be back in New York in a couple of days, if he can just hold his britches.”

“Shall I quote you?” Janet asked.

Delia laughed. “Make me sound judicial, please.”

“Right, boss,” Janet replied.

Delia hung up the phone feeling anxious. Something was going on. She was tempted to call Frank Weaver and ask if he had any idea what it was, but if Sam Dietrich wasn’t involved in the
Times
investigation of her, she didn’t want to get him involved.

She sighed, then used her palms to push herself upright from the chair before her mother’s desk. It was time to go check on her mother.

Hattie had stayed in the hospital only four days following surgery before coming home, against the advice of her doctor. In the twenty-four hours since her return to the Circle Crown, Delia had more than once bitten her tongue to avoid an argument. It felt like her mother was intentionally provoking her.

Delia arranged the bedcovers under her mother’s arms as she listened to a litany of things she should have done and hadn’t, determined not to lose her temper as she had at the hospital.

“No, Mother, I haven’t called Dardus yet.”

“If you don’t order feed now, you’re going to run short,” Hattie said.

“I’ll get in touch with him this afternoon,” Delia promised.

“Call the Cattlemen’s Association and tell them I won’t be at the meeting next week in San Antonio, that you’ll be there in my place.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be here next week,” Delia said.

“Why not?” Hattie demanded.

“I have a job, Mother.”

“Right now, your job is taking care of the Circle Crown.”

“I’m looking for a ranch manager—”

“I won’t have a stranger meddling in my business!” Hattie said.

“He won’t be a stranger, he’ll be an employee,” Delia said patiently.

“The Circle Crown will be yours someday, Delia. I don’t understand how you can turn your back on it.”

“I have other plans for my life, Mother.”

“It’s my fault, I suppose. I should have included you more in ranch business when you were growing up. At the time it seemed more important to prove to you girls I could do it myself.”

Delia raised a disbelieving brow. “You could run this ranch blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back.”

“I suppose it might have looked that way to you. Nothing was ever simple. And I was determined to manage entirely on my own. I had something to prove to my father.”

“He’s been dead since long before I was born,” Delia pointed out.

Hattie snorted. “Just because someone’s dead doesn’t mean they don’t still control how you live your life.”

Delia couldn’t argue with that.

“I always knew I could run the Circle Crown better than my two younger brothers,” Hattie said. “But till the day he died, Tucker Carson couldn’t conceive of his cattle kingdom being run by his daughter. He willed the Circle Crown to John Carl and Jimmy—till fate stepped in and gave it back to me.”

Delia knew the story. Her uncles, John Carl and Jimmy, had tried to beat the Burlington and Rock Island across the tracks in a brand-new Ford Thunderbird—and lost. Hattie Carson had been queen of the Circle Crown ever since.

“I’ve been proving my father wrong for forty-two years,” Hattie said. “I don’t intend to let a little heart attack stop me from making it forty-three.”

“If you don’t slow down, you won’t last another year,” Delia warned.

“Would you care?”

The question brought Delia up short. Her mother sat waiting for Delia to give her an answer that could only hurt her. “You need to rest, Mother.”

“You haven’t answered my question. Would you care?”

“I’m here, Mother. Let’s leave it at that.”

“For how long. And why did you come? I must admit I was surprised. Pleased. But surprised.”

“This isn’t the right time to be discussing these things,” Delia said.