by Irene Brand
She took a sip of her tea and set it aside. “You know that teddy bear Joy’s been dragging around? It’s mine. The last thing Dad ever gave me before he left.”
David couldn’t stop picturing that poor little girl she probably still was in many ways. A knot lodged in his throat at the thought of that child, clinging to that teddy bear—then and now.
“Where is he now?” he managed when he’d been sure he couldn’t speak.
“Letters have come from Chattanooga and Baton Rouge and even Salt Lake City—usually one every few years or so. But his only true home is the open road.”
“You were better off without someone like him. You probably wouldn’t be the strong, capable woman you are if he’d stuck around.”
“I also wouldn’t be the dating nightmare that I am.”
They both laughed at that until David finally stopped himself. “You think you’re bad. You’re talking to a man who’s never had a third date with anyone.”
She studied him. “Does a third date feel like a marriage proposal or something?”
Surprise had him drawing in a breath. “Something like that.”
More like exactly like that, but this wasn’t the time for specifics. Sondra just got him. He wasn’t used to women who understood him, except for Allison, who’d always been a friend to him and nothing more.
Sondra shrugged. “I’ve gotten a few dates beyond three, but not too far past it. I know it’s silly, but I figure if I’m always the first to leave, then I’m safe.”
“It’s not silly.”
He understood and, in a lot of ways, had used a similar plan in his own life. His fear was different from hers though. A part of him always wondered if that fear-of-intimacy gene his parents both seemed to carry was hereditary. Until now, it hadn’t mattered so much whether he had it in him to really love someone, but Sondra was different than all the others. She tempted him to try.
David didn’t realize how quiet he’d become until he glanced at Sondra and found her studying him. An amazed expression shaped her features as though she was just seeing him for the first time, and this time, she’d found him worthy. Funny, he’d never felt less so.
“Your dad really hurt you, didn’t he?”
Her only answer was a sad smile.
The rush of emotion came so suddenly and with such intensity that David had to draw in a breath to steady himself. He couldn’t stop the words, though, because they came from the heart.
“I would never hurt you.”
The need to reach for her was so overwhelming that he had to fist his hands beneath the table to prevent it. He longed to touch her full lips with his, but her refusal from the other night was still fresh in his mind. It had to be her wish that they be together, not just his. So he could do nothing but wait for her to tell him what she wanted.
Sondra drew in an audible breath and chewed her lip. Well, he had his answer, and it wasn’t a green light. His disappointment was tinged with other emotions he couldn’t define as he gripped the table, preparing to stand.
But the feel of Sondra’s fingers covering his stopped him where he sat. “I know” was all she said before she leaned slightly toward him. The trust he saw when he looked into her eyes was his undoing.
Resting his hands on her forearms, he closed the remaining distance between them and pressed his lips to hers. As soon as they touched, he realized his mistake. This was so different from the empty embraces he’d shared with a parade of women. Kissing Sondra felt like an answer to prayer, and he hadn’t realized he’d been praying.
He tilted his head and caressed her mouth again, smiling against her skin as her hands traced up his shoulders to his nape. Even after the kiss ended, she didn’t pull away but rested her cheek against his.
David closed his eyes, breathing in the sweet scent of wildflowers in her hair. “I could get used to this.”
“Me, too,” she answered on a sigh.
Because he longed to be a gentleman with her even if he hadn’t been one with the women of his past, David came to his feet.
“I’d better get going.”
Sondra stood next to him and raised a hand in protest, but he only clasped that hand and drew it to his lips. Then he leaned over and brushed his lips over hers once more. “Good night.”
She smiled as he pulled away. “Good night.”
Even after David had closed the door behind him and headed out into the frosty night, Sondra remained with him, in his thoughts and in his senses. She’d touched him in a place he’d thought untouchable before—his heart.
Chapter Ten
Just over a month later, Sondra turned off Interstate 69 onto the maze of state roads and county roads leading her back to Destiny. Her chest ached with increasing anticipation as each mile brought her closer to town. Closer to David.
Just outside the town limits, she saw the first of the political signs that made her smile: Be Right—Vote Wright for Superior I Judge. She’d promised David she would make a return visit on his election day, even if she was an out-of-towner and couldn’t vote for him. At least the late January weather had cooperated enough to make the journey north from Louisville pretty painless.
“Next time it’s your turn to come to my stomping grounds, Mr. Wright,” she said to her car’s interior. She and David had already agreed as much when he’d first asked her to come the day of the special judicial election. Until now he’d been too busy campaigning to have time for a social life. He had stiff competition in two other local attorneys, both with more legal experience than he had.
More political signs, some for each of the three candidates, dotted the front yards as Sondra reached the center of town. She pulled into the parking lot of New Hope Church, where David had rented the hall for what he hoped would be a victory celebration.
As she climbed out of her car, her gaze went to the open field where their lean-to stable stage had once stood. The stable had still been in place when they’d stopped by during their momentous third real date on New Year’s Eve to revisit the location of their unusual first meeting.
What a poignant night that had been, even if David had been more nervous than she’d ever seen him. But then he’d been traveling uncharted waters in his dating experience, so she’d cut him some slack. She’d been ambivalent herself that night, as it was her last evening in town.
She’d also expected that date to be their last.
“Well, look who’s rolled out of the big city just to crash the voter polls in Destiny.”
The voice that she knew so well from their many phone conversations filtered up behind her, drawing her out of her nostalgia. She turned to see David approaching her.
Trying to ignore her quickening pulse at just the sight of him, she grinned. “I already voted for you three times under three identities. Is that enough?”
He quirked his head. “Just three?”
Instead of waiting for her to come up with another pithy comment, he rushed right up to her, wrapped her in his arms and lifted her, down parka and all, off the ground.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Why, are your eyes sore?”
“No, but my heart sure is.”
She blinked over his comment, but she didn’t have time to analyze it because as soon as he’d let her feet touch the ground, he covered her mouth with his. The same sweet tremor, the burst of hope and joy that had wrapped itself around her heart the first time they’d kissed, returned with a vengeance. As she had every time she’d thought about it in the last few weeks, she wondered what she’d been afraid of.
After several seconds, she finally caught her breath. “Are you feeling confident about the election results?”
“I am now.” He pulled her close enough that they could touch foreheads.
“You mean you were questioning before? I don’t believe it.” She’d never once questioned whether David would win the election or whether he belonged in Destiny. Her only uncertainties had been over whether, or even how, she
would fit into his life.
“No, I’ve been sure of everything, especially after that great pep talk last night.”
“And the night before that and the night before that.” She laughed. “Good thing that you had that one-rate long-distance plan.”
The fact was they hadn’t missed a single night of talking to each other since she’d driven out of Destiny on the first of January, tears streaming down her face and her heart in her hands.
With one hundred and sixty miles between them, it had been easier for her to convince herself that their relationship was simply casual, a friendship really. But now that he was here in the flesh, the lie she’d been telling herself stood out like muddy footprints on a pristine, white carpet.
“Are you cold? We should get inside.” Even as he spoke, he flipped up her collar and zipped her coat to her chin. Then he gathered her to him again. “I’m not ready to share you yet.”
She closed her eyes and soaked in his warmth, his soap-fresh scent and the comfort of being encircled in his arms. Only after several seconds of bliss did the questions come. Share her? Did that mean he wanted her to be his alone? No, she had to be reading something into his words, was worrying unnecessarily when he hadn’t asked her to give up a single thing for him. She was talking about David here. David, who’d dated more women than could crowd into that church hall. But none as many times as he’d been out with her.
Still, they’d had only three real dates that hadn’t involved coercion, not nearly enough to constitute a relationship. It didn’t matter that she could add to that number twenty-eight daily phone calls, some lasting long into the night. Nor could she let it count that sometimes she felt so connected to him that her arm might have reached out with his hand or her brain might have received messages with his eyes.
They had lives in two different states with careers that mattered to them and people who counted on them. Only someone without a survival instinct wouldn’t have recognized that any long-distance relationship between them would be doomed.
They could date as friends and nothing more. She had to be smart. She had to do anything she could think of to keep herself from falling in love with him. But a sinking feeling inside her told her it was already too late.
David glanced around at his cheering friends and political supporters as he stood at the lectern. They wouldn’t have to wait long into the night to know the election results after all. Early returns from the three largest voter precincts were so decisive that he could have declared victory an hour before, but he’d delayed out of respect for his worthy opponents.
Nothing could dampen his joy tonight, not even his parents’ presence or the fact that his new job would earn them bragging rights with the country club set. He was the new Superior Court judge. He’d even won by a landslide. And if things went his way, the rest of his life would fall neatly into place before the night was over.
He raised his hands to quiet the applause. “Thank you for coming tonight. I appreciate all of you for your support, your friendship and most importantly, for today anyway, your votes.”
Getting the laugh he was hoping for, he pressed on, even if his palms were so sweaty that they kept slipping off the wood at the edge of the lectern. “Now that most of the votes are in, the people have spoken, and all I can say is I am privileged and honored to serve as Cox County’s newest Superior Court judge.”
Brock Chandler popped up on stage then, carrying Joy. Both of them sported “Be Right—Vote Wright” T-shirts, though Joy’s covered her to her toes. “Let’s hear it for Judge Wright.”
The small crowd erupted in cheers and applause that went on for so long that David started to fidget. He’d never been this nervous speaking before, even in front of a judge, prosecutor, a seated jury and a room packed with spectators. But then, though those other speeches had been important to him and critical to a client’s freedom, he’d never had so much personally riding on his words.
“Hey, Judge Wright, can you fix my speeding ticket?” a voice on the far side of the room called out.
David jerked his head toward the sound to find Judge Hal Douglas relaxing in one of the room’s few armchairs with a satisfied grin on his face. The heart attack that had caused him to retire early certainly hadn’t taken any of the old codger’s spunk.
“Sorry, wrong court—you know that. Besides, I won’t be sworn in for three weeks. You’ll have to take that one up with Deputy Chandler.”
“He gave me the ticket,” Hal called out.
“So quit it with the lead foot, Judge,” Brock responded.
All of the levity around him only made David more agitated. If he didn’t speak up now, the perfect moment he’d planned would have passed him by. It might have taken him a lifetime, but he’d finally found the love he’d always craved. Sondra was everything he could have wanted in a woman and more. All of his life, he had proceeded with caution, always kept up his guard to prevent an uppercut to the chin. But tonight of all nights, he no longer wanted to be cautious. He wanted to tell the world about the woman who’d stolen his heart.
He raised his hands to quiet the crowd again. It took several minutes, but finally the volume lowered a fraction.
“I know you’ve all been patient, but if you’ll humor me just a moment longer, then you can spend the rest of the night enjoying all this good food and great company.”
He paused but only long enough to draw his breath and gather his courage. “If any of you haven’t met her, I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Sondra Stevens.” With a hand, he motioned toward her. “Sondra, could you please come up here?”
Her shoulders stiffened and her eyes went wide before she shook her head slightly and mouthed the word “no.”
David only grinned. “Come on, now. Don’t be shy.” Then he turned back to audience members who were looking at him with odd expressions and beginning to whisper. “Everyone, Sondra needs a little encouragement.”
Applause broke out again, until a reluctant Sondra approached the lectern. When she reached him, David stepped down and took her hand. He tilted his head toward her. “This is Sondra. We met over a manger.”
A few “Hi, Sondra’s” drifted from the crowd before its members became quiet. Expectant. Sondra looked so shocked and uncertain that he longed to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay. It was too soon, though. The embrace would come in time, but he had to do this right.
“I have a little something I’d like to say to Sondra, if you all don’t mind.”
A few chuckles broke the silence as he lowered to one knee. The color had drained from her face. He’d expected laughter from her, maybe even a few tears, but this reaction surprised him. That was okay. He had a lifetime to learn to anticipate her moods and reactions.
“Sondra Stevens, you’ve made me a changed man. You’ve shown me how happy my life can be.”
She held up her free hand and opened her mouth as if to interrupt him, but he shook his head.
“Please, just let me get this out before I explode.” He reached up and clasped her second hand. “I love you, Sondra. I didn’t even realize I was capable of that, but it was before I met you.”
Her eyes flooded then. Now that was more the reaction he’d expected. It hadn’t even hurt to say the words out loud that he’d been hiding for weeks in his heart, so he braced himself for the most important ones he would ever speak.
Releasing her hands, he reached into his suit jacket pocket and produced a tiny felt box. Inside was an emerald-cut solitaire diamond. “I want to build a life with you here in Destiny—to work with you, worship with you, raise children with you. Will you be my wife?”
Sondra lowered her gaze to the ground. Her eyes and her throat burned. She couldn’t seem to get enough air to stop the empty ache in her lungs. Tears she’d been fighting from the moment he’d called her up front spilled over her lower lids.
She couldn’t look at him or the ring he offered because she might see the hope in his eyes. Then she
would be lost. She wouldn’t have the strength to deny him, even if it cost her.
“Are you okay?” David asked, perhaps for the first time realizing that all was not well.
She didn’t even try to stop the tears anymore as they poured down her cheeks and dripped off her chin. Her chest heaved with the hopelessness that settled around her.
“What is it, Sondra?”
She could hear the concern, the fear in his voice, but she didn’t reach out to help him. Couldn’t.
David came up from his knee and set the box on the lectern. Though he rested his hands on her shoulders, his touch offered no comfort now.
He probably didn’t realize that his offer was just like her father’s when he’d asked her mother to let go of her life just to be a part of his. Would David also leave as her father had? Would she be like her mother, alone and bitter?
She was so confused. Her fears crowded in so close about her that she felt smothered by them. David wasn’t like her father; she had to believe that. She wouldn’t have loved him if he were. Obviously she didn’t love him enough though to give up what she wanted for him. He deserved better. Maybe they both did.
Whispers in increasing volume brought her gaze up from the floor. She only wished they didn’t have an audience. Forcing herself, she finally met David’s gaze. He was still waiting, though his stark expression showed his hope had deserted him.
“Sondra,” he began again, but she raised a hand to stop him.
Each word brought a fresh ache to her heart, but she made herself say them anyway.
“I’m sorry, David. I can’t marry you.”
Chapter Eleven
David was brooding in his office again that Friday morning. He’d mastered the skill in the last three days since he’d been humiliated in front of most of Destiny. As uncomfortable as he’d often felt about his playboy reputation, it was far worse to know that the whole town knew for certain he was a loser at love.
