“Are you telling me you’re unhappy? That you want a change?”
“Maybe.” Claire stepped away, where he wouldn’t confuse her. “I guess I want to change the partnership a little.”
She turned around and looked into Ben’s warm, dark eyes. If she weren’t careful, this argument would end with him promising plenty, changing nothing and romancing her into complacency.
“But I look at you and still see the sweet thing I married. And I promised to honor you, protect you and cherish you.”
That sounded like a caveman talking.
“But you didn’t promise to treat me like a child! Your sweet young thing is all grown up. And she’s got a lot more sense than you give her credit for!”
LYNN BULOCK
lives in Thousand Oaks, California, with her husband and two sons, a dog and a cat. She has been telling stories since she could talk and writing them down since fourth grade. She is the author of nine contemporary romance novels.
Walls of Jericho
Lynn Bulock
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him who have been called according to His purpose.
—Romans 8:28
To Joe, always
And
To my parents, Walter and Betty Hosea, a truly matched pair
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
Epilogue
Letter to Reader
Chapter One
It was going to be a lovely wedding. Claire Jericho was sure of it. Now, if she could just marshal the troops to get there in time she could enjoy her father’s lovely wedding.
Was she the only one in the whole extended family who could get ready on time? She paced the living room, hearing the click of her heels on the hardwood floor. She could hear the boys thumping around upstairs. Her two had the vague excuse of adding their cousin to the normal chaos of getting ready. But Ben had no excuse at all, and Laurel had their father’s whole apartment to herself to get ready in. Where was she?
Running late or trying to replace panty hose at the last moment, Claire told herself. Old habits died hard. She could still remember the bathroom mirror wars when all three girls were at home, in this same house. Laurel was always the last one ready, no matter how much time they gave her.
Carrie, of course, was first. But then she had to be talked into wearing something better than jeans, a ball cap and T-shirt, which made the whole process last twice as long. And while her parents squabbled with Carrie, or tried to hurry Laurel along, Claire quietly got ready for whatever event they were going to.
Most of the time, it was church at Friedens Community Chapel—where they were all heading today if the rest of them ever got ready. She picked a tiny piece of lint off the skirt of her pink dress, and sighed. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”
As if Laurel had actually heard Claire for a change, she came through the front door. “Sorry it took this long. I put a run through the first pair of panty hose with my fingernail.” She waggled her bright fuchsia nails. “Not used to these most of the time. They are elegant, though, aren’t they?”
“Definitely.” And probably cost more than Claire’s weekly grocery bill. California was far different from Friedens, for sure. Laurel looked elegant from head to toe, with her brown hair in a perfect chignon, slim suit the same shade as her nails, and gorgeous pumps in a shade Claire couldn’t even describe.
Her sister saw her looking at the shoes. “Yeah, I know, they’re a bit much. But everybody says gray is going to be the new neutral for a couple seasons. I saw them at the mall and bought them before I thought about them. Would you believe that I actually had them halfway home, ready to show them to Sam, before I remembered—” Laurel’s voice trailed off and her eyes filled with tears.
“Okay, now don’t smear the makeup,” Claire said, grabbing a tissue out of the side pocket of her dress. That was one of the reasons she’d worn this pale pink one. It had pockets, and she knew she’d need them to fill with tissues. But she hadn’t thought she’d need them until church. “We said we’d get through this without thinking about Mom or Sam or any of those things.”
Laurel’s lip trembled. “I know. And I really meant it.” She ran the backs of both hands up her cheeks. “There. I’m done. Now let’s see where those guys are.”
“I think they’re about to find us.” Claire could hear somebody marching down the stairs. It was a lighter step than usual, but all four males upstairs had traded their usual athletic shoes for something dressier today. The sounds rounded the bend to the landing, and shiny black loafers with pinstriped pant legs came into view. That had to be Ben.
Claire’s heart still lifted at the sight of her husband. He looked so fine dressed up. He looked pretty good in the khakis and shirt he wore to work most days, but this was even better.
“It’s about time,” she told him. “You’re supposed to set an example for the rest of that bunch. I thought I was going to have to come drag all of you down.”
His grin was brighter than the sunshine streaming in the windows. And when he smiled like that, the same dimple appeared in his left cheek that she could trace now in Trent and Kyle.
“What if I don’t want to set a good example?” Ben got to the bottom of the staircase and put his arms around her waist. “What if I want to kiss you, instead? You look wonderful. How much of my money did you spend on that new dress?”
“None, silly.
