Johnston - I Promise Page 17

  “This should feel strange or wrong,” Delia said. “We haven’t seen each other for twenty years before this morning.” She turned to face Marsh. “But it doesn’t. It feels like I never left, like all the years between never happened.”

  His eyes glittered. “They happened.”

  “You sound angry . . . bitter.”

  “My life turned out differently than I’d hoped.”

  “Not better?”

  “I love Billie Jo,” Marsh said. “I love my work. But I don’t know that my life’s better than it would have been if I’d stayed right here at home and married the woman I loved.”

  Loved. Past tense. “I’m here now. And I’m yours.”

  “For how long?” Marsh asked.

  “For as long as we have.” She couldn’t promise him more than that. When he didn’t answer right away, she was afraid it wasn’t enough.

  At last he said, “I’ll take what I can get.”

  His mouth was soft on hers, surprisingly gentle. Hungry without being urgent. “I don’t want to hurry,” he murmured against her lips. “I want to take my time.”

  “Take all the time you need,” she said, her mouth smiling beneath his. “I’ve got all night.” She realized as she said the words, that it wasn’t nearly enough. But it was all they had for certain.

  “We’d better not waste a moment, then,” Marsh said, sweeping her up in his arms.

  She gave a startled shriek as he swung her around in a circle, but he kept it up until she was giddy with laughter.

  “Put me down,” she pleaded. “You’re making me dizzy.”

  He slid her down the front of him and hugged her tight. His smile was brilliant in the moonlight. He looked happy and excited, playful as a teenager. “You’re lucky I have a blanket behind the seat of the pickup, Carson, or your ass would be in grass,” he teased.

  “The sooner you get it, the sooner you get it. If you know what I mean,” she teased back.

  He gave her a smacking kiss and let her go. He ran for the truck, rooted around behind the seat for the blanket, and came running back. She already had her boots and socks off and was standing barefoot in the dewy grass by the time he returned.

  “You’re supposed to wait for me,” he said, spreading the brown wool army blanket out on the ground.

  “The grass feels good,” she said wiggling her toes.

  Both of them dropped to their knees on the blanket, and he had her prone under him a few moments later. Two seconds after that he had her out of the silk shell.

  “What happened to going slow?” she said with a delighted laugh.

  “Next time,” he said as his mouth latched onto her nipple through her lacy bra.

  Delia moaned and arched toward him.

  She had thought it would be over quickly, and it was true they were naked in no time. But Marsh seemed intrigued by the sight of her in the moonlight.

  “You’re so beautiful, Delia. More beautiful than I remembered. And your skin is so soft.” His hands twined in her hair and spread it out around her face. “I wish your hair were longer. It’s so silky. I want to wrap myself up in it.”

  “Ray John used to say that.”

  She was sorry the instant the words were out of her mouth.

  Marsh stiffened. His eyes never left hers as he continued to caress her hair. “I wish I had known sooner, Delia. I would have killed him for you.”

  “Then I’m glad you didn’t know,” Delia said. “It wouldn’t have been a fair exchange—your life for his.”

  He grabbed handfuls of her hair, holding her captive for his kiss. “It’s me, Delia. It’s Marsh.”

  She felt like weeping. “I know, Marsh. I’m sorry I mentioned his name. Only—”

  “It’s this place, Delia. It has too many memories.”

  “I always loved coming here,” Delia confessed. “I loved being with you. You made my life bearable. You gave me hope.”

  “I want to make love with you, Delia. Without any ghosts to haunt us.”

  “I don’t think of him often. But I thought you should know—because you always liked my hair long—the reason I cut it.”

  “I’m glad you told me.”

  But they both knew she would never grow her hair for him. He would never have a chance to wrap himself in it the way he wanted. Ray John had stolen that small dream, as he had stolen larger ones.

  It was a miracle she and Marsh had man-aged to find each other in the first place. A miracle they had found each other two decades later.

  “Make love to me, Marsh. I’ve waited so very long to feel your arms around me again.”

  “I want to be inside you, Delia. I’ve wanted it for a lifetime.”

  They had waited twenty years for this moment. Suddenly neither of them was in any hurry. They took the time to discover each other, after all.

  Delia wasn’t able to get enough of touching Marsh, the springy black curls on his chest, the sinewy muscles in his arms and shoulders, his taut buttocks.

  And he touched her, with adoration and de-sire.

  “Do you like that?” Marsh asked.

  Delia moaned.

  “Was that a yes?” Marsh asked.

  Delia laughed.

  “Was that a yes?” Marsh asked.

  Delia kissed him, sweetly, softly on the mouth. “Oh, yes. That was definitely a yes.” She touched him, and he groaned.

  Before she could ask, he gasped, “Yes!”

  It had been right to come here where it all started. Where they had once met as two people who loved each other. Where they had spoken of their hopes and dreams.

  Her hands tightened in Marsh’s hair as he kissed his way down her belly, lifted her with his hands, and loved her with his mouth and tongue.

  Nothing had ever felt so exquisite. Nothing had ever been so devastating. Nothing had ever made her feel so complete.

  He mantled her sweat-slick body as the shudders of ecstasy faded. She liked the firm, solid weight of him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and held him close while her breathing returned to normal. She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her.

  “I want to be inside you,” he murmured. “I need to be inside you. Are you protected?”

  “What?”

  “Are you going to get pregnant if we do this?”

  Delia’s face heated. How silly to be embarrassed. She should be glad he had asked. She should have asked a few questions herself. “I’m on the pill. To regulate—”

  “Then I won’t need this,” he interrupted, pitching a condom aside.

  Where on earth had he gotten that? Delia wondered.

  “I don’t have anything you can catch,” he said in response to her incredulous look.

  “I never thought you did. Neither do I,” she added hastily.

  He chuckled. “That’s a comfort. But to tell you the truth, Delia, this would be worth dying for.”

  It was the sort of thing a man said in the heat of the moment. But when Delia looked into Marsh’s face, she was jolted by the realization that he meant it.

  She reached between them with her hand and led him to where they both wanted him to be.

  Delia met Marsh’s gaze steadily as he drove himself in to the hilt. His eyes slid closed, and he made a satisfied sound in his throat. She moaned as he withdrew slightly before thrusting again.

  He loved her with his mouth and his hands and his body. And she loved him back. It was a spiritual joining of body and soul that lifted Delia to heights she had never known existed. It wasn’t only her physical being that felt exalted, it was her innermost self.

  When Marsh spilled his seed inside her, she felt a terrible sense of loss. Because the moment was so fleeting. Because their togetherness couldn’t last. Because there was no fertile ground in which his seed could take root.

  She wasn’t aware of the tears until Marsh began to kiss them away.

  “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “It was beautiful, Delia. It was more than I ever dreamed it could be.�
��

  He spooned her against his groin and wrapped the blanket around them. “Let me hold you for a little while.”

  His hand was already on her lips to still her protest.

  “Just a little while,” he pleaded.

  They stayed there all night. He loved her twice more. They dressed in the light before dawn, and he drove her back to the Circle Crown.

  “I have to be home before Billie Jo wakes up,” he explained.

  “I should try to get in before Rachel knows I’ve been out all night,” she said.

  They didn’t speak of what had happened between them during the night just past. They didn’t speak of the future.

  When they arrived at the back door to the Carson mansion, Marsh left the engine running. The lights were still on in the kitchen and her bedroom.

  This time she shoved the truck door open and stepped out before she spoke. “So long, Marsh.”

  “So long, Delia.”

  She pushed the pickup door closed as quietly as she could and ran for the house without looking back. She heard Marsh back up and turn the truck for home.

  When she opened the kitchen door, Rachel was sitting at the table waiting for her.

  “Have a nice night?”

  Delia headed for the refrigerator to hide the heat in her cheeks. “What are you doing up so early?” She retrieved a carton of orange juice and poured herself a glass.

  “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 g
o, 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.