A Ring and a Promise. Lois Richer

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      “Abby, I can’t thank you enough for helping me decorate for Grandmother’s party.”

      “My pleasure.” Abby attached the last swag to the corner of the dais and ignored a little voice inside her head that said she should be working on her contest entry. “How does that look?”

      “Perfect!” Sara, Donovan’s youngest sister, stood back and admired their handiwork in the ballroom at Weddings by Woodwards. “Once Dad brings in his flowers and everyone’s here, the place will come alive. Don’t you think?”

      “Absolutely.” Abby felt dumpy and dowdy, doubly so against Sara’s blond glistening beauty.

      “Donovan took us all by surprise, coming home the way he did.” Sara grinned. “He’s always been so adamant about staying in Europe. But I’m glad he’s back. And I’m thrilled Grandmother’s well enough to return, too. My big sister is getting too intense,” she whispered as Katie pushed through the doors.

      “I heard that, brat.” Katie made a face at Sara, then turned to her. “Abby, how is your mother?”

      “She’ll be sore for a while. The osteoporosis has really left her bones weak which is why her vertebrae crushed so easily when she fell down the steps.” Which only added to the list of things on Abby’s already overly full plate. “Thanks for understanding about yesterday, Katie. I just couldn’t get in.”

      “Of course not. Family comes first.” Katie scanned the room. “Wow! You two have done a wonderful job for our double celebration tonight. We’ll be a big group. I’ve given the kitchen staff the evening off so they can join us.”

      “So who’s feeding us?” Sara demanded.

      “Caterers. They should be here soon.”

      “That’s my cue to get going.” Abby headed for the door.

      “Going? But you’ll be here for the party, won’t you?” Sara’s big eyes probed.

      “Won’t you, Abby?” Katie asked.

      “Sure. I just have a few things on my desk to tidy up.” And then she’d quietly slip away.

      “You’re always working overtime. Katie won’t care if you take the last hour to go home and change. Will you, Katie?”

      “Of course not. You must be here, Abby. You’re part of Woodwards. Excuse me. I’m to check on a certain string quartet Grandmother loves.” Katie hurried away.

      “Thank goodness she’s gone. My feet are killing me.”

      “I wonder why?” Abby chuckled, glancing at the very high heels Sara wore. “You borrowed Katie’s shoes again?”

      “My sister has such lovely shoes and they make me look elegant, which is not an easy feat, trust me. But they’re sheer torture. I can’t imagine how she wears them all day.” She kicked off the offending articles with great relief. “That’s better.”

      “Sara, if you don’t like the way the shoes feel, why do you wear them?” Abby had always found Donovan’s youngest sister confusing.

      “Because I want to look beautiful for my husband.” Sara’s flushed cheeks and eyes glittering with unshed tears gave her away. “Although if I trip and fall flat on my face, I guess I won’t be so elegant. And he’ll be furious.”

      “Furious? That doesn’t sound right. Cade loves you.” A twig of envy sprouted inside Abby’s heart. “Very much. I can’t believe he’d be angry with you.”

      “He does love me and I know it.” Sara sniffed inelegantly. “But in a little while I’ll be so huge I won’t be able to see my toenails, let alone fit into shoes like these. Just for now I want to be the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.”

      “You’re expecting,” Abby guessed. “Oh, my.”

      “You can say that again. I’m over the moon, but sick as a dog every morning. Not very romantic, you’ll agree?” Sara tried to smile, but frustration took precedence. “I feel horrible most of the time and I grouch at Cade about everything. Today I wanted to look extra pretty, but now my feet hurt so much I can hardly walk.”

      She burst into tears.

      As Abby patted her shoulder, she marveled at this beautiful Woodward daughter’s uncertainty. She had everything and yet she was still upset. Abby had to help.

      “Come on, let’s go see what’s in the shoe department.” When Sara tried to slide her feet into the heels, Abby snatched them up. “Give me those,” she scolded.

      When they arrived at the shoe department, Abby took the sales assistant aside and explained the situation.

      “I know the exact thing. Keep her sitting there. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

      Sara lay sprawled in her chair, eyes closed, obviously resting. Abby examined her own reflection in the mirror opposite and wished she hadn’t. She was dusty, part of her hem was loose and the shirt that had been pristine this morning looked tired.

      Not exactly party material.

      She caught sight of a rich red dress in the next department and longed to try it on. Just looking at it made her feel lighter, prettier, younger.

      “How about these?” The shoe salesman held a pair of wedge-heeled shoes that, while flattering the ankle, didn’t have the wobbling height of Sara’s borrowed stilettos.

      “Perfect,” Abby whispered. “Now how do we get her to wear them?”

      “I can hear you talking about me, you know.” Sara tried on the shoes and asked to have them put on her account. “What are you staring at?”

      Abby turned away, but she was too late.

      “That dress is perfect for you, Abby. You haven’t got time to go home and change now anyway because of me.” Sara frowned. “Unless—do you have to do something for your parents about dinner?”

      “No. It’s all taken care of.” Her parents thought she was working. And she’d intended to be. But she hadn’t known about the welcome-back party when she’d said that. She gave the dress another wistful glance.

      Wouldn’t it be wonderful to wear СКАЧАТЬ