Authors: Joan Johnston

Johnston - I Promise (33 page)

BOOK: Johnston - I Promise

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“Soon,” Delia mouthed back.

Billie Jo dropped a mound of teenage paraphernalia left over from a day spent tubing on the Frio on the beautiful oak floor Delia had discovered when she stripped off the worn linoleum in the North Ranch kitchen, and headed down the hall to her bedroom.

Delia gave her attention to the phone again.

“The court order will require your husband to keep his distance from the house. Otherwise, he can be arrested. Yes, I know it’s scary. But you’re doing fine. How are Ricky and Steven? I’m glad to hear it. You and your sons will be home soon, Sylvie. I’ll talk with you again tomorrow. Good-bye now.”

Delia felt Marsh’s arms surround her as she hung up the phone. She leaned back against him and moved his hands down to cover her belly, where their child was growing inside her.

“Well, counselor,” he murmured in her ear. “How goes the war against the bad guys?”

“The good guys are winning,” she said with a smile.

“Anything I can do to help with supper?” he asked.

“It’s roast beef and baked potatoes. Fifteen minutes,” she said, “and it’ll be ready to come out.”

“How about sitting on the porch with me and watching the sun set?”

“Sounds wonderful,” Delia said.

She followed Marsh through the ranch house, which had undergone something of a transformation in the four months they had been married. The roof no longer leaked, and the Sears furnishings had been replaced with selected pieces from estate sales and antique stores they had visited together. The outside had been painted a bright yellow, and the windows framed with pristine white shutters. The porch no longer sagged, and they had replaced the rockers with a large swing they could sit on together.

Delia hadn’t wanted to live at the Circle Crown. Too many unpleasant memories resided there. She had given the house over to the new ranch manager Marsh had hired to help him incorporate both parcels of land into one larger spread.

Marsh sat on the long wooden swing that hung by ropes from the porch rafters, drew Delia into his lap, and gave the swing a nudge with his boot.

“Happy?” he murmured.

“Umm. I loved your commentary in
The Chronicle,
the one comparing the difficulties of communication between parents and children with communication between countries. It made sense, Marsh.”

“Billie Jo suggested it.”

Delia chuckled. “I might have guessed.”

She looked across North land that now had no fence line to separate it from Carson pasture. It was April, and immense fields of bluebonnets dotted with occasional patches of Indian paintbrush blanketed the earth as far as the eye could see. “We’re really blessed, Marsh.”

“I know.” He nuzzled her throat, his fingers sending chills down her back as they slid into the hair at her nape. “Have you heard from Rachel today?”

“No. She said she’ll be in touch after she gets settled. She finally found a house she likes near Trinity University in San Antonio. I’m glad she decided to go to undergraduate school somewhere close, so we can see each other more often.”

“Have you told her about the baby yet?”

Delia shook her head. “I was waiting . . .”

“It’s been nearly four months, Delia. The doctor said—”

“I know. If I was going to have serious trouble, I’d have had it by now.” Delia heaved a giant sigh. “I’m afraid to believe it’s going to be this easy,” she said. “I mean, what woman my age gets pregnant so quickly. And with the son her husband asked for, no less.”

Marsh chuckled. “Sexy sirens who forget to take their birth control pills and then don’t let their husbands out of bed for a week.”

Delia hid her face against his chest. “Don’t remind me what a wanton I am.”

“I’m not complaining.”

Billie Jo shoved open the front door and stepped onto the porch. “Are you two at it again? Good grief.”

Delia sat up straight and brushed at her messed-up hair where Marsh’s fingers had been tangled in it. “We were just—”

Billie Jo grinned. “I was only teasing, Delia.”

“Come here,” Marsh said, scooting over so Billie Jo could sit at his side on the swing. He slipped his other arm around her and set the swing in lazy motion once more. “This is the life. It doesn’t get any better than this.”

“Wait till my baby brother comes,” Billie Jo said. “That’ll be even better.”

“Maybe,” Marsh said. “I’m just taking one day at a time.”

Delia caught his eye and smiled. Some promises, she had discovered, were easy to keep.

About the Author

JOAN JOHNSTON
is the
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author of 54 novels and novellas, with more than 10 million copies of her books in print. Joan lives in Colorado. You can learn more about her at
www.joanjohnston.com
or reach her on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/joanjohnstonauthor.

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www.AuthorTracker.com
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Romances by Joan Johnston

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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EPUB Edition JULY 2014 ISBN 9780062380135

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