The Colonels' Texas Promise Read online

  A marriage pact, sixteen years in the making.

  The vow was simple. If they were single by the time they made lieutenant colonel, they’d marry. On the day of her promotion, Juliet Grayson is at Evan Stephens’s door to ask him to keep his promise. Juliet only needs a father figure for her son, but Evan hopes to be so much more. Can he convince a woman who’s been burned before to get close to the flame once again?

  “This is insanity. I can’t believe we’re even talking about following up on an old promise.”

  At that, he laughed and leaned his hip against his desk, relaxed. “You can’t believe it?”

  “You don’t have to honor an impulsive college promise,” she said, giving him chance after chance to take the easy way out. He could give her a smile, a friendly “Good to see you again,” and she’d go.

  “But you must have wondered if I would honor it,” he said. “Did you come all the way here after all these years just to tell me to say no? Is that what you wanted to hear me say?”

  “No. I came to hear you say... I don’t know what I expected. I didn’t think you’d be...”

  “A man of my word?”

  “You think this is a good idea?” She’d meant to state it as a fact, but her tone of voice had taken on a girlish kind of wonder.

  “I do. I have no intention of waiting another sixteen years for the next kiss.”

  * * *

  AMERICAN HEROES:

  They’re coming home—and finding love!

  Dear Reader,

  This is a story about the one who got away...I think. Maybe it’s a story about that one person you were good friends with but, for whatever reason, you never crossed that line from friends to a romantic couple—until now. Yes, there’s definitely that element here. Or maybe it’s a story about the courage it takes to try again with someone new after being burned by an ex. You tell yourself that this time you will be sensible and not expect too much—and then find a new love with an old friend that is better than anything you’d ever expected. The heroine in these pages definitely gets that.

  This story is about a marriage pact, the kind of agreement people enter into when they are younger and want a backup plan as they go into the great unknown of the adult world. If we don’t meet and marry anyone else, then we’ll marry each other when we’re older. The funny thing is that, after I began writing this book, one of my husband’s friends did just this. He turned forty, flew back to his hometown and married a girl he’d known in high school, because they’d agreed as teenagers to get married if they were still single at forty. Incredible! Art imitates life, or life imitates art, or something like that. Bottom line: I think it’s romantic. I hope, after you read this book, you are happy with the romance, too.

  I would love to hear from you. You can always find me on Facebook—I spend way too much time there. If you prefer to send me a private note, you can contact me through my website, www.carocarson.com.

  Cheers!

  Caro Carson

  The Colonels’ Texas Promise

  Caro Carson

  Despite a no-nonsense background as a West Point graduate, army officer and Fortune 100 sales executive, Caro Carson has always treasured the happily-ever-after of a good romance novel. As a RITA® Award–winning Harlequin author, Caro is delighted to be living her own happily-ever-after with her husband and two children in Florida, a location that has saved the coaster-loving theme-park fanatic a fortune on plane tickets.

  Books by Caro Carson

  Harlequin Special Edition

  American Heroes

  The Lieutenants’ Online Love

  The Captains’ Vegas Vows

  The Majors’ Holiday Hideaway

  Texas Rescue

  Not Just a Cowboy

  A Texas Rescue Christmas

  Following Doctor’s Orders

  Her Texas Rescue Doctor

  A Cowboy’s Wish Upon a Star

  How to Train a Cowboy

  Montana Mavericks:

  What Happened at the Wedding?

  The Maverick’s Holiday Masquerade

  Visit the Author Profile page at www.Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  This book was written with fond memories of the two friends who each told me they were going to marry me if they hadn’t found anyone else by the time they were thirtysomething.

  But...

  This book is dedicated to Richard, my husband, who decided to marry me the day he met me.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from How to Rescue a Family by Teri Wilson

  Excerpt from Flare Up by Shannon Stacey

  Chapter One

  “Attention to orders.”

  The military personnel in the conference room came to their feet. Major Juliet Grayson was already standing at attention, as was her new commanding officer, who stood at her right. On her left stood the most wonderful person on earth: her son. Matthew was eleven years old and halfway through sixth grade, but he still looked boyish and acted goofy—most of the time. Not today.

  Today, her little boy was trying to fill a man’s shoes. Juliet’s husband should have been here, standing at her left, ready to pin her new rank onto her uniform at this promotion ceremony. He was somewhere else. With someone else. Which was why he was her ex-husband.

  “...special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity and abilities of Juliet E. Grayson.”

  Fidelity. At least the US Army appreciated that quality.

  “...she is therefore promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel on this date by order of the Secretary of the Army.”

  There was polite applause in the conference room and genuine smiles. Promotions were happy occasions, even when the person being promoted had only been assigned to the unit for a couple of weeks. Juliet hadn’t yet moved into a permanent house here at Fort Hood, Texas, but the conference room was still filled with at least two dozen well-wishers, including her commanding officer, several senior noncommissioned officers, and a few of their civilian spouses. The spouses had come to welcome Juliet’s spouse, of course, but she didn’t have one. She hoped they would make a fuss over her son. Matthew had insisted on wearing a necktie.

  Her son might be dressed as an adult, but he was still kid-sized. Juliet bent down so he could unclip her shoulder board from the blue suit jacket of her service uniform. The rank insignia for a major, a gold oak leaf cluster embroidered onto the epaulet, was now a thing of the past. Matthew had her new shoulder board in his fist. Juliet suddenly wished they’d practiced the clipping and unclipping at home. He was just a child, and every adult in the room was focused on him; he might get flustered. His life had been rough enough without subjecting him to another potentially embarrassing situation. She should have thought of the possibility, sh
ould have shielded him from at least one small hurt, although she’d failed to shield him from the big hurt of divorce.

  But after a moment of awkwardness when Matthew didn’t know what to do with the old shoulder board—Juliet simply held out her palm, so he could place it in her hand—he clipped on the new shoulder board with its higher rank, an insignia of silver oak leaves. Juliet was prouder of Matthew for the dignified way he was participating in this ceremony than she was with herself for being promoted. She winked at him, then stood so that her commanding officer could pin the new rank on her other shoulder.

  Just like that, she was a lieutenant colonel.

  It had only taken a few minutes...plus sixteen years of active-duty service. Sixteen years ago, she’d graduated from college, changed from her cap and gown into her brand-new army uniform, then raised her right hand and made a promise to defend the Constitution.

  Sixteen years ago, she’d bid farewell to her tight-knit circle of college friends before taking her diploma and herself to her first duty station. Most of her friends had stayed in the city to start new careers. Two had stayed at the university to begin master’s degree programs. Out of their little gang of eight, only she and Evan Stephens had made a military commitment, volunteering their lives in the service of their country.

  Evan Stephens. Blue-eyed, athletic, lover of beer and baseball and blondes, not necessarily in that order. Juliet was not a blonde. She and Evan—and the six others in their circle—were just friends and had been just friends since their sophomore year.

  Sixteen years ago, she and Evan had gotten behind the steering wheels of their separate cars and left the campus for separate army posts, he to Missouri for the Military Police Corps, she to Arizona for Military Intelligence. But the night before graduation, after her parents had gone back to their hotel to sleep, Juliet had run into Evan on the college green. Under a full moon, they’d talked about their futures, just the two of them.

  Their parents were proud of them, and she and Evan were excited to don their new uniforms, which shone with the single gold bar of a second lieutenant on each shoulder, but by that fountain in the moonlight, they’d dropped their ROTC cadet bravado and gotten real.

  Do you think we’ll be stationed at posts we don’t want?

  Do you think we’ll miss Christmas with our families next year?

  Do you think we’ll see combat?

  Do you think we’ll die?

  These were concerns that didn’t come with the civilian careers their friends had chosen. More and more students had gathered on the central green, milling about in the moonlight. Then one student had gotten down on bended knee as he held up a little ring box to an excited girl. Or rather, a woman. They were adults now.

  Juliet and Evan’s questions had taken a different turn. Evan had wondered why any civilian woman with a successful career would want to marry him and be dragged from post to post. She’d have to restart her professional life every few years, going back to handing out résumés and going to job interviews with each move. Juliet had wondered if any man would be willing to be left behind to take care of their babies on his own while she was deployed. A civilian spouse was pretty much guaranteed to face time as a single parent during the military spouse’s inevitable deployment or hardship tour.

  I’m probably killing my chance of finding Mr. Right anyway, just by serving in the army. Military women have double the divorce rates of military men. Did you read that article?

  Yeah, real nice of Colonel Hodges to post that crap.

  Students from the college of music had shown up at the green with their violins and cellos for an impromptu jam session. Juliet and Evan had carried on the rest of their conversation as they’d danced with the crowd to stringed versions of current hit songs.

  Slow songs.

  They’d danced as a couple.

  I don’t know why I’m worried about divorce, she’d said. I’d have to get married first, but I scare guys off just by being in ROTC.

  You don’t scare me.

  She hadn’t laughed. Evan hadn’t said it as a joke. His hands had felt strong and warm on her waist. She’d been dancing with her hands linked casually behind his neck. At his words—You don’t scare me—she’d looked up at him and realized how well she knew his handsome face after three years of shared cafeteria pizzas, study sessions at the library, Frisbee games right here on this green. She was going to miss it. She was going to miss him.

  She was holding on too tightly.

  She’d looked away. You’re so lucky, Evan. You can wait until you retire and then get married and have your kids.

  Why can’t you?

  Because we’ll be, like, forty-one years old at retirement. We’ll be colonels. Colonels are old. You’re a guy. You can have babies at forty-one, but it’s not likely I can.

  Don’t be so sad. You’re worrying too much. Men are going to line up to marry you. You’re twenty-one and completely gorgeous—

  She’d looked at him, startled. He’d caught the edge of one of his flip-flops on the grass and tightened his hands on her waist, but his voice had sounded very steady. I’ll marry you when you’re a retired old colonel. I promise.

  And then he’d kissed her. She hadn’t known, hadn’t guessed, hadn’t given a thought to how warm his mouth would be. How soft his lips would be when the rest of his body was so hard. Hard shoulders she clung to. Hard thigh muscles her legs brushed against.

  He’d ended the kiss, and this time, he’d been the one who looked away.

  Her heart had pounded because this was wrong, all wrong. She was graduating. She was being sent to her first duty station, far away from his. He was her friend, and she should tease him like he was her brother, but she didn’t feel like teasing him. She felt like kissing him again, on the grass by the fountain, under the moon.

  It would mess up all her plans. It would be absurd to start a new relationship mere hours before they were leaving one another to begin careers at posts that were thousands and thousands of miles apart.

  They’d danced some more instead. As long as the violins had played, they’d danced. This is it. Goodbye to Evan, goodbye to all of my friends, to this green and this college and this life.

  Her heart had kept pounding and the future had suddenly seemed more scary than bright. This was the last night she’d live in a city she chose. The last year she’d be certain she’d be home for Christmas. When would she see all of her friends again? When would she see Evan again?

  She’d broken the silence. Why should I marry you as a retired colonel? I’ll be too old to have children by then.

  He had laughed at that and gone one rank lower. Lieutenant colonel, then. We’ll be thirty-five or thirty-six, right? Plenty of time for making babies. If we’re both still single when we get promoted to lieutenant colonel, we’ll marry each other.

  His laughter had chased away some of her fears. His promise, as silly as it was, had given her a fixed point of certainty in the vast, unknowable future. She’d let go of him and stepped back, but she’d held out her pinkie finger in the moonlight.

  Evan had only scowled at her hand. Dudes don’t do pinkie promises. You have my word.

  Dude, she’d mimicked him. Pinkie promise, or I won’t believe you.

  He’d hooked her finger with his own and repeated his promise. If we’re both still single when we get promoted to lieutenant colonel, we’ll marry each other.

  “Lieutenant Colonel Grayson, would you like to say a few words?”

  Juliet thanked everyone for coming. She thanked her son for being there, and she joked that perhaps the promise of cake had been of equal enticement to the promise of skipping a half day of school. She cut the sheet cake with a tasseled sword her new unit kept on the wall for just such occasions, cutting neat square after neat square, but all the while, her heart was pounding like a college girl’s at midnight.

&
nbsp; Juliet knew Evan had already been promoted to lieutenant colonel. The army published promotion lists that were avidly read throughout the military, so she’d seen his name when he’d been promoted below the zone, one year early.

  She hadn’t seen Evan in person for years, not since a chance meeting on an airfield in Afghanistan that had lasted less than a minute. Before that, there’d been an alumni tailgate at a homecoming football game. She’d had a toddler-aged Matthew in her arms then, and she’d still had hope that her husband would grow into his role as husband and father, still hoped he’d become a more reliable man.

  Juliet watched Matthew now, a preteen who was eating cake with the gusto of a little kid. He’d carried his plate over to a group of men in uniform and stood right in the middle of them as he ate forkfuls of frosting. He always gravitated to men in any situation, proof to Juliet that he needed a man in his life. Her father and brother lived too far away to fill in the gap left by her ex-husband. Matthew had no one to serve as a role model beyond a coach he might interact with for a few hours each week during Little League T-ball season, or a teacher he might have for one hourly class each semester.

  Matthew looked so very young, despite his necktie, as he craned his neck back to watch the men as they talked over him. While he ate black and white cake layers, his eyes followed their conversation like it was a ping-pong match. Did the men remind him of his father? Or was he so fascinated because they were nothing like his father? Maybe he gravitated toward the authority and stability that uniforms represented, although it was because she herself wore a uniform that Matthew had just been plunged, yet again, into a new school in a new town in a new state. He might turn out fine despite his unstable childhood, or he might be scarred for life.

  Matthew’s future was so uncertain, so unknowable—which meant hers was, too. She was so tired of facing down the unknown alone.

  When Matthew caught her staring at him, she mustered up a smile, but she was thinking ahead to her plans for the immediate future. For this afternoon. After the cake, after she drove Matthew back to school, Juliet had somewhere to go.