EPILOGUE
Annie gently rocked her sleepy child, cradling him in her arms and humming softly. She’d lived in Promise nearly two years now, and the town was everything Jane had said. Everything and more. She’d left California looking for a new life and she’d found it—new work, a new home, and most important, a husband and family.
The bookstore was doing well financially, although Annie was working only part-time these days. Louise Powell had always been one of her most regular customers, and soon after Annie discovered she was pregnant, she’d approached the older woman about accepting a part-time position. Louise had been thrilled and said yes almost immediately. As the pregnancy progressed, they’d reversed roles, with Louise working full-time and acting as the store’s manager. Annie took on even fewer hours to stay with her newborn son. The arrangement suited them both. Annie loved her time at home. And, busy at the store, Louise had less time to spread gossip; as a result, she’d formed several close friendships with women her age.
“Is he asleep?” Lucas asked, tiptoeing into the baby’s room.
Annie smiled lovingly at her husband and nodded. Gently she brushed the dark curls from little Luke’s brow, then stood and placed him in his crib. Lucas joined her and tucked the blanket about his sleeping son’s shoulders.
As noiselessly as possible, they moved out of the room and closed the door.
“I just got an emergency call,” Lucas told her, regretfully.
“Go,” she told him, wondering at his hesitation.
“But I was looking forward to spending a Saturday afternoon with my wife.”
Annie never tired of hearing him refer to her as his wife. It was a word she loved, and a role she loved. Just as wonderful as the other role she’d accepted when she agreed to marry Lucas: mother.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Annie told him, walking him to the front door.
He kissed her. “I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
“Don’t forget to pick up Heather and Hollie at two from the movie theater.”
As if she would. “I won’t forget.” She giggled. “Now go. Scoot. Be gone with you.”
“I really do love you, Annie.”
“I know.”
And she did.
* * *
Nessa Pawling sat in her kitchen with brochures from a number of different cruise lines spread across the table. She just couldn’t decide.
The back door opened and Gordon walked into the room, setting his golf clubs aside. “The Panama Canal,” Gordon whispered enticingly from behind her. Leaning forward, he kissed her cheek. “Frank and I talked it over, and since you women can’t seem to make up your minds, we’re doing it for you.”
“But there’s no shopping in Panama,” Nessa argued.
“You and Dovie have a dozen or more Caribbean islands where you can spend your money, and every store on every one of them takes Visa and American Express.” Gordon opened the refrigerator and brought out a pitcher of iced tea.
“I married you for your money, you know,” she teased.
Gordon laughed. “That’s all right because I married you for yours.”
“Sylvia believes it to this day.” Actually, Gordon and Sylvia had called a truce soon after the wedding, just as Nessa had with Miles. Gordon’s son had given their marriage three months. Nessa wanted to laugh every time she thought about it. They’d been married for a year and a half now, and the honeymoon didn’t show any signs of ending.
“The kids are just worried we’re going to squander their inheritance,” Gordon said, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to her.
“We are, aren’t we? Every last penny of it.”
“It might take some real effort, but I’m willing to try if you are.”
It went without saying that she was.
“The Panama Canal, then?” Gordon asked, flipping through the colorful pages of the brochure.
“Looks like that’s the general consensus.” Nessa knew she’d enjoy the cruise, especially since Dovie and Frank would be joining them. In truth, it wouldn’t have mattered if Gordon had decided to circumnavigate the globe; Nessa would have gone along for nothing more than the pleasure of his company.
Gordon kissed the back of her hand. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
“I’d better give Dovie a call,” Nessa said, standing up. “We’ll have to plan our wardrobes. Oh, Gordon, this is going to be such fun.”
Her husband reached for a second brochure. “What would you think of a trip down the Amazon?”
“Next year, darling, next year.” She wondered if anyone in Brazil took American Express.
* * *
Cal Patterson drove the pickup through the stone gate and down the one-lane road that wound its way through Promise Cemetery. The older grave sites with their ornate markers dominated the front half, those of more recent years were situated in the back.
It’d been a month since he’d been to see his mother’s grave. Mary’s dying had been a long goodbye. But although they’d all expected it, known it was coming, Cal hadn’t been ready. Glen, neither, and certainly not their father.
Once his parents had sold the bed-and-breakfast and moved into the retirement center in San Antonio, his mother’s health had quickly deteriorated. Within a year she was gone.
Cal parked the truck and walked across the freshly cut lawn to his mother’s grave.
“Hello, Mom,” he whispered as he laid a bouquet of bluebonnets next to her headstone. “It’s been a while since I last stopped by.” He could see that his father had paid a recent visit. Whenever he came, he brought a rose.
“I have some news,” he continued in a whisper. “Jane’s pregnant again. We’re really happy. Ellie’s pregnant, too, but I imagine Glen’s already told you that.” He swallowed tightly and looked toward the sky. For years his mother had wanted him to give her grandchildren. Now she’d never know them, but Cal chose to think of her watching and loving them all from heaven.
“If we have a girl this time, Jane said she wanted to name her after you.” They’d call her Mary Ann, after his mother and Jane’s closest friend, Annie Porter.
“Dad’s adjusting. It isn’t easy, but he’s managing.” Phil had returned to Promise and was living in a brand-new retirement complex. The seniors’ center in Promise had helped. Frank Hennessey had taken him under his wing and gotten Phil involved in various activities. He was trying to talk him into learning golf. Gordon Pawling was keen on it and had organized a group of retired businessmen to investigate the possibility of building a golf course right outside town. Cal had to smile every time he thought about a golf course in Promise. Those men were serious about it, though, and it wasn’t uncommon to find one or more of them practicing putting techniques in the town park.
“It’s Dad’s birthday next week, and I wanted you to know I’m getting him a set of clubs.” If Gordon, Frank and the others got their way, Phil would soon be joining them on a golf course, and Cal wanted to encourage that.
He stood with his hat in his hand for several minutes, communicating silently with his mother, struggling with the fact that their long goodbye hadn’t been long enough.
* * *
The diamond on Jeannie French’s left hand sparkled in the light of her first-grade classroom.
Adam stood in front of the children as he did every year, discussing safety and talking about a sheriff’s work, ending his talk with a demonstration involving his handcuffs. It was this part her six-year-olds always enjoyed the most.
After class, Adam lingered and helped her clean up for the day.
“I’d like a pair of those handcuffs myself,” Jeannie told him once the classroom had emptied.
“Any particular reason?” he asked with more than a hint of suggestion.
“I have a few ideas, Sheriff Jordan,” she said, doing her best to make her voice deep and sexy.
“Ms. French, you shock me.”
“Do I now?”
“What exactly would you do if I was foolish enough to give you my handcuffs?” He dangled them in front of her.
Jeannie stood next to her desk, head tilted, and planted her hands on her waist. “You mean you don’t know?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “I can guess.”
“Guess again, Adam Jordan.” This was the moment she’d been waiting for. “I want us to set a date for our wedding. We can work on our relationship until kingdom come. If you aren’t ready to marry me now, you never will be.”
Adam looked stunned. “If it was up to me, we would’ve been married a year ago.”
“Then why aren’t we?”
“Well…because, you never said…”
“You never asked! Am I always going to have to be the one to do the asking?” Jeannie demanded, pouting just a little. “I love you, and I want us to be married.”
“I want us to be married, too.”
“Well…you should’ve said something sooner.”
“Are you willing to set the date or not?”
“Yes,” Jeannie said without hesitation.
“Good.”
They glared at each other, then Jeannie asked, “Why are you standing over there when I’m standing over here?”
Adam shook his head. “Hell if I know. Did we or did we not just agree to set our wedding date?”
“We agreed.”
Adam pulled her into his arms, joining his hands at the small of her back. “That’s what I thought. What are you doing next weekend?”
Jeannie stared at him. “You want to set the wedding for next weekend?”
“No, I just wanted to know if you had any plans.”
She was about to let out a cry of protest, but he cut her off with a deep heartfelt kiss that robbed her of both breath and reason. When he’d finished, he looked down at her and his eyes grew serious. “Next weekend, we’ll choose a date. Okay?”
Jeannie laughed and nodded, crazy in love with the best-looking sheriff she’d ever known.
* * *
Grady had been expecting his sister to show up all afternoon and he wasn’t disappointed. Savannah sought him out in his office.
“You heard?” he asked.
She nodded. “There was a letter from Richard in today’s mail. The parole board’s denied his request, and he blames Val.”
“Interesting, seeing that the only person he has to blame is himself.” But this was a familiar scenario with Richard.
Savannah agreed with a nod, then took the chair across from Grady. “I wish I knew why Richard went so wrong. I’ve asked myself that a thousand times over the years, and I’ve never found an answer that made sense.”
Grady had wondered, too.
“His letter was so full of anger,” Savannah said, and Grady heard the hurt in her voice.
“I didn’t know you still wrote to him.”
She avoided eye contact. “I do every now and then.”
“And he writes back?” Grady knew the answer, but wanted his sister to admit the truth. Richard would write his family only when he needed something.
“He does keep in touch,” Savannah replied, “but mostly to request money or ask me to do him some favor.”
“And do you?”
“Laredo prefers that I only send Richard money on his birthday and Christmas, and frankly I agree. For the rest, I tend to ignore his requests. Did you hear from him, too?”
Grady nodded. “It isn’t only Val he blames.”
“Why you?”
“I refused to write a letter to the parole board on his behalf.”
“Neither would I,” Savannah admitted.
“Yes, but he isn’t about to bite the hand that feeds him.” Oh, no, Richard was much too smart for that.
“How’s Val?” Savannah asked. “Have you heard from her recently?”
“Travis and Nell do frequently.” Once she’d learned the truth about Richard, Val was hell on wheels, doing everything possible to make sure he served his full sentence. She’d been helpful to the people of Promise, too. Working with another attorney, she’d helped with the return of the gold coins to the federal government. But her assistance hadn’t stopped there. Because of her efforts, money had recently been raised to build a small hospital in Promise.
A golf course, a hospital. Grady wondered if he’d recognize the town in a few more years. Then again, he knew he would. Changes would come; the town was destined to grow. His own family certainly had since the birth of his second daughter. But the heart of Promise—the strength and faith that had led the original settlers to leave Bitter End and start over in a new place—that heart would never change.
* * * * *