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She Promised Her Heart
She Promised Her Heart
She Promised Her Heart
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She Promised Her Heart

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Two People. One Plane.

Their Lives Will Never Be The Same...


How long should your heart keep a promise?

When Dr . Isabelle Kelly is offered a first class plane ticket from a fellow passenger, how could she know that this meeting would find the two women’s lives so intertwined.

Isabelle is still in love with an Air Force Captain that she promised her heart to before he left for a second tour of duty in Vietnam. When he didn’t return, even forty years later she continues to keep her promise.


How many broken promises do you forgive? 

Jillian is disappointed once again when her fiancé puts business before her. Her intention is to return her fiancé’s first class ticket for a refund, when she overhears a passenger trying to find a seat on the same plane. In a move to seek retaliation against his broken promise, she offers the ticket to Dr. Kelly.

Neither knew as seatmates how their lives would intertwine. The past will come to haunt and preserve their futures.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateOct 7, 2015
ISBN9781519905307
She Promised Her Heart

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    She Promised Her Heart - Kathryn Daugherty

    She Promised Her Heart

    A Novel By Kathryn Daugherty

    A Davenport Writes, LLC Publication/October 2015

    This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    Published by

    Davenport Writes, LLC

    Copyright © 2015 Kathryn Daugherty

    All rights reserved

    The right of Kathryn Daugherty to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

    No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any way by any means without the prior permission of the copyright holder, except as provided by USA copyright law.

    Cover Photography by Chris Holmes Photography www.cholmesfoto.com

    Cover Design by Davenport Writes, LLC www.davenportwrites.com

    Never Let Go by Charles L. Mashburn Copyright © 2015 www.charleslmashburn.wordpress.com

    Author Photograph provided by Anna Beeh Photography. http://www.annabeehphotography.com/

    Printed in the United States of America

    www.kathryndaugherty.com

    Praise for A Case of Hearts

    Cheryl Bolen wrote:

    Gripping, compelling—impressive—first book

    If Kathryn Daugherty continues writing as thoughtfully as she did in A Case of Hearts, she will be a star of contemporary romance. She's crafted likable characters we care about, and readers will be cheering for the little boy who is the center of this courtroom drama. It was romantic without being graphic. While the legal facts were well researched, the reader is never hit over the head with the author's extensive research.

    This was a fast-paced, enjoyable read.

    Cheryl Bolen is the New York Times, USA Today best-selling author of more than a dozen Regency-set historical romance novels. Author of the Counterfeit Countess: Brazen Brides  Book 1.

    DEDICATION

    ––––––––

    This book is dedicated to the veterans who have made all our freedoms possible. Without their service and sacrifices this country would be a far different place to live in. I wish to offer my thanks to the soldiers in my life:

    My uncles, Harold and Roger Erickson, who served in World War II.

    My brother, Dean Erickson, who served from November 1968 to November 1969 with the 601 Photo Flight out of the Korat Royal Thai Air Force Base.

    My cousins, Mark Soderquist and Richard Erickson. Mark served at NakhonPhanom Thailand Air Force Base from March 1970 to March 1971, and Richard served in the Navy from May 1963 to August 1967

    My brothers-in-laws, Donald Daugherty and John Kuester. Donald served from March 5, 1967 to March 4, 1968 at Quang Tri Province, and John who is a retired Navy Veteran.

    Jimmie Dale Still, who gave the ultimate sacrifice with his life on January 1, 1970, in Phuoc Long, South Vietnam.

    Our son, Jimmie Daugherty, who also served in the Army and is named after Jimmie Dale Still.

    While conducting research for this novel, I conversed with several individuals about their service. I read books and internet accounts of our nation’s involvement in the Vietnam Conflict and the recollections of individual’s experiences of being a POW. There are several thoughts on the political climate of that war, but no matter our view on the conflict, our soldiers were there to serve and do their duty. Because of this, I wish to thank all service men and women who have served our country in all the capacities. Let us always remember all the POWs/MIAs from any and all wars.

    Never Let Go

    By Charles L. Mashburn

    ––––––––

    If two hearts are meant to be one

    If theirs be a heaven-made love

    Like a penny one has found

    ‘Tis sent by angels from above

    For a promised heart beats on

    Though love seems long since gone

    And deep in the depths of one’s soul

    Remains its beckoning song

    And therein resides no sadness

    For the truth does never die

    True love is forever and real

    To say it’s over is but a lie

    So never give up and always believe

    Never let your heart give in

    No never let go of a love that’s real

    For in the end... true love will win

    Copyright © 2015 C Mashburn

    http://charlesmashburn.wordpress.com

    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

    ––––––––

    There are several individuals I would like to acknowledge for their help and support with the writing of this novel. I offer my sincere and humble thank you.

    First and foremost, to my husband Cliff who is the one who believes in me and encourages the pursuit of my dream.

    To Lee Collins who, once again, read and reread this manuscript to help strengthen the story. Your patience and assistance is much appreciated. 

    To Christopher Holmes, my son-in- law, of Chris Holmes Photography for the cover photos. Your work is outstanding.

    To Kayla Holmes, my granddaughter, who modeled for the cover photos. It makes me proud to have you grace the cover of this novel.

    To Charles Mashburn for writing the poem Never Let Go to honor this story.

    To the Pella Writers Group for your ideas and gentle critique of the story as it developed.

    To the Marion County Writers Group for your much-needed feedback and the stick-to-it-ness you inspire.

    To the beta readers who offered suggestions: Ed and Sharon Rood, Teresa Tallman, and Brittany Warren.

    To Courtney Bebensee for her editing skills.

    To Matthew Davenport of Davenport Writes, LLC for his publishing, formatting and cover layout.

    To my brother Dean Erickson, my brother-in-law Donald Daugherty, and my cousin Mark Soderquist who let me into their memories of their time in Vietnam. I know the accounts that you shared are not ones you wish to relive, but your stories gave me direction and realism as I developed this novel.

    To my family for whom I hope to always honor with the use of their names as characters in my work.

    CHAPTER ONe

    ––––––––

    J

    illian glanced at her watch every few minutes, her right foot tapping, and muttering under her breath, she couldn’t imagine what was taking so long. The line of passengers behind her grew. The flight announcements blasted over the intercom system, the monotone voice, annoying on any given day was especially irritating this afternoon. There were the toddlers forced to stand in line, who were now whining and throwing fits, which only further aggravated her. The wheeled luggage of the person in line behind her had smashed into her calves several times. The longer she waited in this line the more she fumed.

    It wasn’t any of the people in the airport who were at fault for her foul mood. How could Ted disappoint her once again? What was wrong with their relationship? Why did she come in second every time? She often questioned if her feelings ever came into play. When she and Ted were married, would his business meetings always come before her?

    Spending three weeks at home for her sister’s wedding required her additional luggage be sent via FedEx. The fees for overweight luggage would’ve cost a fortune.  She only had her purse, a small carry-on, and her briefcase. If Ted hadn’t requested she return his ticket, she would be doing VIP check-in and avoiding this time-consuming wait. Maybe she should have taken the hint, when he had insisted on purchasing a refundable ticket.

    Jillian stood second in line. In her position she could hear all of the discussion between the woman and the airline employee in front of her. She concluded what had started out as a simple request for a seat on the next plane to Omaha had escalated into a battle of words. The conversation between the ticket agent and the woman standing at the counter continued. The line now snaked beyond the ropes. During her wait Jillian took advantage of the time to observe the woman standing in front of her.

    The mature woman at the desk was stunning. Her short blonde highlighted hair done in a simple style, makeup almost undetectable, nails with pale pink polish. She wore a tailored suit of power red with a bright white silk blouse. Her low-heeled bisque-colored shoes weren’t at all like old lady shoes. Draped over her left shoulder was an expensive tote, made of soft brown leather, along with the latest crossover-style Coach Bag. Everything about her exuded discriminating taste.

    Except for the woman’s short stature – about five foot three, compared to her own six-foot frame – this woman could be a vision of Jillian’s future self. At any rate, Jillian hoped to look as fantastic in thirty years.

    Jillian’s red-headed temper was about to get the best of her. What was the problem? Taking a deep breath, she listened more intently to the exchange going on in front of her.

    I’m not trying to be difficult, sir, the woman stated. My plane from Seattle was delayed. I need to be on this flight. I have a meeting in Omaha tomorrow morning.

    Then you should have left yesterday, that’s the only thing I can tell you. I don’t have a seat on this flight available, the customer service agent snapped.

    The woman’s voice raised an octave. It wasn’t possible, since I performed surgery in Seattle at five o’clock this morning. The flight from Seattle to Los Angeles didn’t leave in time for me to make my scheduled eleven o’ clock flight to Omaha. This three o’clock flight to Omaha is the only one left on your airline’s schedule to go out today.

    I believe I’ve explained to you in several different ways. What don’t you understand? he said, steel in his voice. I do not have a seat available for this flight. It’s booked. Period. End of story.

    She raked her hand through her hair and asked, Is there a standby list? 

    The agent’s attitude escalated. He became more belligerent, No, there isn’t. He punched some information into the computer in front of him. He announced smugly, Do you want me to issue you a ticket for tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock. I have a seat available.

    The woman shifted from one foot to the other. The agent didn’t give her a chance to answer before he spoke again. So do you or not? he demanded.

    Jillian watched the woman raise her shoulders and readjust her purse strap resting there. The woman pushed out a deep breath. Young man, is there another airline with a flight going to Omaha this evening? I have to be in Omaha before the flight leaves tomorrow morning. How can I get you to understand this?

    He threw up his arms, You know, lady. your problem is not my concern. I don’t know if there is another airline going to Omaha today. By all means go check it out yourself. Now, either let me issue you a ticket for tomorrow morning or move aside. I need to help the people behind you.

    That did it. Jillian had observed this young man’s offensive behavior for as long as she could tolerate. She could resolve this woman’s problem, and at the same time put this obnoxious young clerk in his place.  Excuse me.

    Wait your turn. He snarled. I’m trying to conduct business with this woman. If I can get her to move along I’ll take care of you.

    This only further annoyed Jillian over his insolent attitude. Jillian directed her glare at him, as she stated, I’m not talking to you young man. I’m addressing the lady. 

    The woman turned, Pardon me. You were talking to me?

    I’m returning a first-class ticket. If you agree to pay the fees to change the name, it’s yours. Giving away Ted’s ticket boosted Jillian mood; it serves him right; I think that’s the price he pays for not coming with me.

    The woman gave Jillian a tentative nod, Really? You would do that? In a soft voice she continued, I do appreciate this. I will be glad to reimburse you for the price of the ticket as well.

    Jillian took Ted’s ticket from her purse. Will you please change the name on this ticket to this woman’s name? She will pay any fees necessary.

    The clerk barked, I can’t do that. It’s against the rules.

    Jillian’s shoulders stiffened, pushing to her full height. Sliding the document across the counter to the agent, she went on to explain. This is a full-fare refundable ticket. If you can’t or won’t handle this transaction, by all means, please, call your supervisor. We can wait.

    The clerk looked beyond the two women standing at the desk. The line behind them was long and the passengers agitated. After muttering something unintelligible, he begrudgingly agreed to handle the change, adding a fee for the alteration. Within minutes, Ted’s travel voucher sported the woman’s name, Isabelle Kelly.

    Before Jillian left the desk, she reprimanded the clerk. If you hate your job this much you really should go find a new one, because you really are no good at customer service. Several people behind Jillian cheered at her comments. The clerk’s scowl at Jillian and Isabelle’s retreating backs brought about another round of heckling from the people still waiting to be served. Jillian received several high fives as she passed by the waiting passengers.

    Once away from the line, Isabelle spoke to her rescuer, Thank you, my dear. I really appreciate you stepping up. The meeting in Omaha in the morning is an important one. I would’ve hated to reschedule. It’s always difficult to get all the people involved to agree to a specific time for a meeting. Once it’s set I hate to try to rearrange things. If you’ll give ...

    Isabelle’s phone chirped, interrupting her from explaining further. She pulled the phone from her pocket and checked the caller ID. Please excuse me, I need to take this call before we board.

    I’ve a few calls to make myself, Jillian said as she pulled her own phone from her purse and checked the screen before she hit the send button.  I’ll see you on the plane. Both women walked away with their cell phones to their ears.

    CHAPTER Two

    ––––––––

    T

    he two new seatmates found their first-class accommodations. Isabelle asked if she could take the outside space, leaving Jillian the spot next to the window.

    Isabelle placed her tote under the seat in front of her. The first attendant came by, asking Isabelle, May I place your bag in the overhead bin?

    No, thank you. Isabelle gave her a warm smile. I want to be able to retrieve items from my bag during the flight, if it’s okay?

    Of course, ma’am, as long as it fits in front of you. The attendant reached overhead and closed the bin. May I bring you ladies a complimentary cocktail or wine? 

    Red wine, please, Isabelle said without hesitation.

    Make it two, Jillian nodded.

    While Isabelle and Jillian settled in, several passengers filed past them to board the plane for the flight to Omaha. More than a few stopped to thank Jillian again for putting the ticket clerk in his place. Jillian waved them off with a smile. It was my pleasure, believe me.

    Jillian pushed her briefcase and purse under her seat. Isabelle gave her jacket to one of the other attendants to hang in the front closet. The two fastened their seat belts and pushed back into the soft leather first-class seats. Jillian especially enjoyed the extra legroom. The wide chairs afforded both occupants ample room to move about. They turned down the offer of headphone or blankets, opting instead to accept the pillows offered. The two barely had time to speak to each other with the constant questions from the attentive cabin crew. The boarding announcements reminding passengers to turn off all electronic devices, and to keep the seat backs and folding trays in their full upright positions.

    Finally, the attendant closed the curtain between the cabins. She cued the safety video demonstration with a welcome for flying with them today. Once the video finished, the Captain made his announcement. We’re ready to push away from the gate.  We’re third in priority for take-off; we should depart in about five minutes. Flight attendants please take your seats.

    The buzzing of the jet engines as the plane pushed forward down the runway made Isabelle grasp the armrests, leaving her fingerprints implanted in the leather. She maintained her grip until they reached cruising altitude.

    Jillian watched as the woman’s smile turned into a grimace. Jillian stated, I’m assuming you don’t fly much.

    As she released her hold, allowing the color to come back in her knuckles, she responded, I’ve flown quite a bit. I’ve just never learned to relax during takeoff or landing. She turned to Jillian, her eyes twinkled bright. I’m so sorry. I never even got your name.

    It’s Jillian ...

    The flight attendant interrupted as she set the glasses and two small wine bottles on the trays, Red wine for you ladies. Please relax and enjoy your flight. I’ll bring your meals in about an hour.

    Jillian, I want to thank you again for rescuing me. How did you happen to come by an extra first-class ticket? Isabelle grinned as she pressed back, wiggling into the plush seat.

    Jillian reached for the chain around her neck, fingering the gold heart attached to it. My fiancé’s boss scheduled an emergency meeting. An important acquisition came together this week, so he couldn’t make the trip. The muscles in Jillian’s jaw tightened before she continued to say, This isn’t the first time business has curtailed his plans of traveling home with me.

    I’m so sorry. Business sometimes is the worst offender of relationships. Isabelle dug in the bag at her feet, pulling out a crochet project. I’ll be happy to reimburse him for the price of the ticket. If you give me his name, I’ll write him a check.

    Please don’t worry about it. I plan on telling him it’s kind of pay back for him not coming home with me like he promised. Jillian gave her shoulders a shrug.

    Well, he may think the cost of a first-class ticket is a high price to pay. Isabella continued to pull out two skeins of yarn and a pencil box which held her crochet hooks nestled among the pencils.

    He can afford it. Jillian watched as Isabelle pulled out a hook to begin her work with the yarn, making loops and stitches.

    Maybe so, but I still feel I need to pay for the ticket.

    No, if he gets real upset I’ll pay for it. Jillian said. How did you get your crochet hooks past the security guard?

    I put them in this pencil case. Isabelle picked up the case from her lap. They blend in with the pencils. This way I can always have them with me. Some agents are okay with crochet hooks, others are not, so I’ve learned how to conceal them. Pushing the case back in her bag she said, I don’t want to take a chance they may keep them at the security checkpoint. Crocheting is my stress reliever, Isabelle explained.

    The plane leveled out, the announcement of being able to move around the cabin echoed around the plane. The fasten seat belt sign blinked out. Jillian released her seat belt, slipped off her shoes, and curled her long legs beneath her on the seat, while Isabelle kept her belt snuggly around her waist. It’s a three-and-half-hour flight, Mrs. Kelly, we might as well get comfortable. Jillian said.

    Actually it’s Doctor Kelly, I’ve never been married, but please, dear, call me Izzie. It’s what my friends call me. Izzie looked across at Jillian, her laugh warm and friendly.

    Izzie, what a fun name ... Izzie. Jillian remarked repeating the name.

    It’s a nickname a special person gave me years ago. I felt it suited me so I kept it. Izzie added another row of stitches. The soft sage green and silver yarn flowed through her fingers. So, tell me what takes you to Omaha?

    Jillian smiled. My little sister’s wedding. I’m going to a small town called Weeping Water about forty miles from Omaha. That’s where the wedding will be. I’ve been directing things from Los Angeles, but promised I would be there to pull the finishing touches together. I own a wedding consulting business in Los Angeles.

    She thought planning her sister’s wedding would be simple. From two thousand miles away, things had become much more complicated than she anticipated. The decorations and table arrangements shipped weeks ago. Now she needed to be on site for this June wedding. 

    Her sister’s indecisiveness left many of the details to Jillian. Lana had deferred many of the particulars for the wedding to Jillian, saying she didn’t have the time or inclination to worry about it.  Many of the unique ideas she pulled together would’ve been things she could’ve possibly used for her own wedding, but Ted and Jillian couldn’t seem to find time to tie the knot. It had been two years since Jillian had said yes to Ted’s unimpressive proposal.

    She and Ted had been out to dinner on a Wednesday night of all nights. She had had a difficult day with a particularly persnickety celebrity bride. She was trying to tell Ted about all the strange and expensive extras the bride and groom had requested. A huge firework display after the couple said I do. She wanted Jillian to go to a local school to recruit the kindergarten class of boys and girls to be the flower girls and ring bearers. She thought forty to fifty children would be sweet. Jillian explained how ludicrous the idea was. She asked Ted if he agreed. He just nodded in agreement as he perused the wine selections. He ended up choosing an expensive Pinot Noir. She remembered thinking how nice it would be to just have an ice-cold beer. After the wine steward had brought the wine and went through all the tasting shenanigans, Ted poured her a glass, pushed a square black velvet box across the table, announcing he thought it was time they made their relationship permanent. How about it? His idea of a romantic proposal.

    They had been dating for five years; becoming engaged seemed the next natural step in their relationship. There were days she wondered why they stayed together. Sometimes when she doubted him most he would do something sweet, he’d, arrange a romantic getaway, to places like Vegas or Mexico. Or he’d plan a special evening out, complete with a huge bouquet of roses, making her feel like everything was alright. More often though he would do something like he’d done today, disappointing her with a broken promise because of work. The sound of Izzie’s voice brought Jillian out of her reflections.

    Oh, I love weddings. Izzie put down her crocheting for a minute. I’ve been to many over the years-weddings for patients, friends, and children of friends. Izzie laughed. Now even a few grandchildren of friends. Picking up her hook again, she asked. Do you suppose I’ve been at one of the weddings you put together? For the next few minutes, the two women talked about the different weddings each had attended or orchestrated. They were involved in a few of the same social circles, they had a few celebrity friends in common, yet had never met. 

    Izzie revealed to Jillian she was a plastic surgeon from Los Angeles. I thought I overheard you say you performed surgery in Seattle, so I just assumed you were from there. Jillian said.

    No, one of my patients took a fall while performing and needed emergency surgery to repair a nose injury.  I flew to Seattle yesterday to do surgery. I scheduled a flight to get me back to Los Angeles so I could connect with my flight to Omaha. Which was delayed.

    I read about a performer, oh what was his name? Snapping her fingers as she thought, "Oh, now I know. Ron Williams? Is that who it was?

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