Johnston - I Promise by Joan Johnston Page B

Please, don’t blame yourself.” Rachel’s lips quirked in a wobbly smile as she laid a comforting hand on Delia’s shoulder. “It wasn’t our fault. Remember?”
    Delia felt her lips wobble in an answering smile. “Right.”
    Delia made sure Rachel locked the door behind her, then sought out her mother. Hattie usually spent time early in the morning in her office downstairs, which had served as a sewing room for past generations of Circle Crown ladies. Ray John had already left for the Kincaid Hotel to have coffee and hear the morning stock reports. She and her mother had perhaps an hour alone before he could be expected to return.
    It had been easy for Delia to say she would confront her mother with the truth. The reality of it was somewhat daunting. She stood for several moments in the open doorway, watching her mother sign checks to pay the expenses of running the ranch.
    “Mama?”
    Her mother glanced over her shoulder. “What is it, Delia? I’m very busy.”
    Delia took a deep breath and stepped into the room. “Mama, there’s something I have to tell you.”
     
    Marsh had been wrestling with his feelings ever since he had been forced to acknowledge the true relationship between Delia and her father. He could think of no other explanation for what he had heard her father say. It made him sick to think of what might be going on between them right now. He hadn’t seen Delia for three whole weeks.
    Marsh yanked on the strand of barbed wire and tacked it tight to the mesquite post. He wasn’t taking any chances on North cows straying onto Carson land again. Ray John had promised a personal visit next time. Marsh wasn’t sure what he would do if he met Ray John face-to-face. If he had been carrying a gun with him three weeks ago, the man would already be dead.
    Barring murder, Marsh’s first instinct had been to go straight to Sheriff Davis. But that would have meant exposing Delia’s dreadful secret to the whole world. And he had no proof of anything.
    He felt confused. Angry at Delia and sorry for her at the same time. Appalled. Revolted. Disgusted. He had heard such things happened, but not in the town where he lived, not to someone he knew. He wondered how far it had gone. He wondered if Delia had done it with her father.
    And hated himself for what he was thinking.
    Of course she hadn’t. She wouldn’t even do it with him.
    But maybe that was why she wouldn’t do it with him. Because then he would know she wasn’t a virgin. He imagined her with her father. And felt the bile rise in his throat.
    He pulled off his gloves and tucked them in his back pocket, then dropped his Stetson on the fence post and tunneled all ten fingers through his sweat-damp hair, leaving it standing on end.
    He turned to look across the fence. He should just go knock on her back door and ask to speak with her.
    What would he say? What could he say?
    I understand. He didn’t.
    I was shocked by what I heard. She had to know that already.
    What the hell is going on between you and your father? He didn’t really want to know. He was afraid he already did.
    He shoved his hair flat with his fingers, slapped his hat back on, and tugged it down to shade his eyes from the midday sun. He put the tools he had been using back in his saddlebags, mounted his horse, and headed for the live oak where he had spent so many hours with Delia.
    She wouldn’t be there. She hadn’t come in three weeks of waiting. But he couldn’t keep himself from going.
    Today she might come.
    One thing had become clear to him amid all the confusion. He still loved her. He still needed her. He still wanted her. More than that, he wanted to rescue her. Except he had no idea how to do it.
    For the first time in a long time he wished he was on better terms with his father. He wished he could talk to him, get his advice, maybe even his help. But Cyrus was drunk most of the time. Marsh wouldn’t trust his father to keep what he knew to himself, let alone offer