Destiny's Dream

by Delia Latham

  “That’s the one. You own it?”

  “I do. Who is this?”

  “That ain’t important, lady, but this is, so listen up.” A sinister note sharpened the man’s gravelly voice. “I don’t like what you’re doin’ there. ‘Tain’t right, meddlin’ in folks’ lives like that.”

  Destiny’s heart pounded. She rubbed clammy palms on her skirt. “I—I’m sorry you feel that way, sir.”

  An ominous guffaw greeted her comment. “I don’t think you are, missy. I don’t think so at all. But you will be. You’ll be real sorry!”

  A touch of anger stiffened her spine. “Sir, I demand to know who you are.”

  “You cain’t demand nothin’ from me.”

  The line went dead. The receiver dropped from her shaky fingers and bounced on the floor. In a daze, she bent to retrieve it, placing it on the hook before sinking to her knees. Trembling, her teeth chattered as she sat on the hard linoleum with tears dripping off her chin.

  She wracked her brain, trying to dredge up that unpleasant voice from her memory, but nothing came to mind. She’d never heard it before. The venom in the man’s tone left a rancid taste in her own mouth. Her skin crawled with the hatred the unknown caller communicated, even over the telephone, and waves of cold fear drenched her in a slimy, fear-induced sweat.

  Finally she stood on still-shaky legs and went to the bedroom. She undressed, then stepped into a steaming shower. Maybe the hot water would untangle the knots of reactionary tension in her shoulders, in addition to sluicing the clammy stench of terror down the drain.

  Upon emerging, she dried her hair and dressed in comfortable clothing. The mere act of following a familiar routine calmed her. She felt more ready to face the world. Nevertheless, something in her caller’s sinister voice told her the man meant business. It wasn’t a prank call, and he would not just go away.

  Back in the living room, Mama’s drab sofa had never seemed so welcoming. Destiny dropped onto it, drew a deep breath and tried to relax. Then she picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. When his voice came on the line, her rebellious pride made one last, feeble protest, which Destiny crushed beneath the heel of good sense.

  “Clay, I’m sorry to bother you, but I, uh—” Her voice broke and she choked back a sob. She’d had no intention of coming across all weak and needy.

  “Destiny?” Concern gave Clay’s voice a sharper edge than usual.

  “I’m sorry. I just—I need to talk to someone. Is there a chance you might be able to swing by this evening?”

  In spite of her troubled mood, she couldn’t help a tremulous smile at his instant reply. “On my way.”

  ****

  How dare some lowlife threaten Destiny?

  Clay’s fists itched to pound themselves into someone’s face. It made him angry that he didn’t know whose face had it coming. Never prone to violence, he nevertheless held to strong opinions about cowards. And a man who lacked the courage to identify himself while he made ugly threats to a lady deserved no less than a sound pounding.

  “It could have been a prank caller.” His instincts told him otherwise, but he longed to soothe Destiny’s frazzled nerves.

  “No.” Her firm voice said she would never believe it. He didn’t want her to. She needed to be on her toes and aware of potential threats to herself and her business.

  “Well then, we have to go to the police.” He hated feeling so helpless, wanting to shield her from danger and even simple unpleasantness. Being unable to take immediate action rankled right through to his bones.

  “Clay, I’m not sure the police can act on this unless the caller actually does something.” Eyes downcast, Destiny pleated and re-pleated the fabric of her ankle-length house dress. “I don’t even have his voice on a recording. I’m on my own, at least for now.”

  “You’re not on your own. I’m with you.”

  And he’d not leave her here alone. “You’re not staying in this house by yourself with no protection.”

  A humorless bark of laughter followed his words. “He doesn’t know where I live.”

  “You don’t know that.” He paced the floor in restless frustration, then planted himself on the sofa and took one of her busy hands. “He managed to get your phone number, and I happen to know it’s unlisted.”

  A wave of alarm shadowed the green depths of her eyes, and Clay hurried to allay the new fear. “Can you stay with Jenna for a few days?”

  She nodded, obviously reluctant. “I could, I guess.” At the thought of being forced to partake in Jenna’s endless social events, she groaned. “But I really don’t want to.”

  “Well, then go pack a bag. You’ll stay with Mom.”

  She stood, and tossed him a weary smile. “No, I’m not crowding in on your mother. I’ll call Jenna.”

  “Destiny, your visit will make my Mother the happiest woman on the block. And her place has an advantage over Jenna’s, don’t you think? As far as most folks know, you have no connection to Claire Gallagher. I can’t imagine anyone figuring out your whereabouts while at her place.”

  He could see she was considering his words, and waited for her decision.

  Finally, she nodded. “Call her, then. I don’t want to just show up on her doorstep with my suitcase in tow.”

  ****

  Claire met them at the front door, her face wreathed in a sunny smile, yet edged with concern. She pulled Destiny into the house and wrapped her in a motherly hug. Destiny found herself fighting back stinging tears.

  “Come right on in here, dear!” The older woman cast a fleeting glance at Clay. “Take her bag up to your old room, son.”

  Clay disappeared down the hall, and his mother led Destiny to a cushiony sofa and urged her onto it. “Now tell me what’s going on if you are able. I watch crime shows, so I know you’re not supposed to give out a lot of information. Clay said you’ve received some kind of threat?” She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “What’s this world coming to?”

  Destiny smiled a little, remembering her own mother’s frequent use of that same rhetorical question. “I guess someone doesn’t approve of what we do at Solomon’sGate, Mrs. Gallagher.”

  “Claire, dear. Please.” The older woman shook her head and frowned. “I guess folks just don’t understand. I know I didn’t. Until Carson talked me into visiting you, I had a completely different idea of what a dating service is all about.” She smiled, and a faint blush stained her soft, lined cheeks. “By the way, I’ve only gone out with one of the three possible matches you came up with. Preston Crane?” She waited for Destiny’s nod. “We see each other at least once a week. He’s a fascinating man, and such a gentleman. I haven’t felt the need to search any further—not just yet.”

  Destiny smiled, happy for the other woman. “I’m so glad it’s working out for you, Claire. That’s what Solomon’s Gate is all about.”

  Claire shook her head. “But to have someone threaten you over it! I can’t imagine what kind of person could be so crude.”

  “Well, I could come up with a few choice names, but I wouldn’t want to use any of them in the presence of ladies.” Clay returned from the bedroom and leaned against the door frame, his arms folded over his broad chest. “Do you suppose it’s a client—someone who used Solomon’s Gate and was hurt somehow? Or it could be someone who believes his true love is using Solomon’s Gate to dump him. The threat sounds personal, to me.” He stood up straighter, and his voice took on a hard edge. “Either way, I’d like to get my hands on the yellow-bellied coward.”

  “Now, Clay, that’s not doing anybody any good right now.” His mother scolded, but the words barely passed her lips before she grinned, and a delightful twinkle lit her eyes. “Though, I must say, I’d like to take a switch to the awful man myself.”

  Destiny and Clay both burst out laughing, and she met his eyes across the room. His laughter faded, and his lingering gaze touched her face in a way that warmed her from her toes to her nose. She quickly lowered her lashes, y
ielding to an unexpected and overwhelming wave of shyness.

  Claire struggled to her feet and rushed off toward the kitchen. “I, uh…I think I have some tea—or something—to see to in the kitchen. I’ll just be a minute.”

  Part of Destiny wanted to call her back. The other part of her longed to be alone with Clay, somewhere away from the rest of the world.

  She heard him cross the floor, saw his black shoes come into her range of vision, but still could not meet his eyes.

  He knelt beside her and raised her chin. “Destiny, look at me. Please.” His whispered request dropped a silken noose around her wildly bucking heart and reined it in—gently, relentlessly, and despite her best efforts to the contrary.

  She looked up into his face, despising the trembling of her lips. He brushed a finger across them. “Shhh…it’s OK, you know. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

  Stricken, she prayed her tumultuous emotions were not engraved on her face. Had she completely misread his expression? It appeared Clay’s concern was for her physical safety alone. Not that she didn’t appreciate that concern, but her heart had responded to what she thought was a different message.

  “I know. Thank you.” She forced the words past her rapidly closing throat.

  “Thank you?” He chuckled. “Don’t thank me, pretty lady. I have ulterior motives.” Bending closer, he touched his forehead to hers. “Don’t you know I couldn’t stand to lose you?”

  “You—you couldn’t?” She pulled back far enough to search his gaze.

  He shook his head, but said nothing. That crooked smile she so adored peeked out for a moment as he slipped a hand behind her head and gently urged her closer…and closer still, never taking his gaze from her face. For a breathtaking moment, he paused, just when she thought he would surely press his lips to hers.

  She waited, frantic, unsure what to do.

  “May I kiss you?”

  His words, from an era long past, sealed her heart forever. Laughing softly, she finally wrapped her arms around his neck. “If you don’t, I’ll never forgive you.”

  His answering groan rumbled against her tingling lips as he crushed them with his own.

  They were both startled a moment later by a quiet, “Ahem.”

  Grinning, Clay pulled away but did not release Destiny from the circle of his arms. She looked up to see her beaming hostess standing in the doorway. Claire held a tray piled high with cookies and a carafe of coffee.

  “I hate to interrupt. Oh, I really do!” Her burst of delighted laughter relieved Destiny’s brief moment of concern. “But maybe a little break is in order.” She made an exaggerated show of fanning herself. “Coffee, anyone?”

  Destiny's Dream

  14

  Destiny couldn’t decide whether to be touched or annoyed.

  “You can’t do this every day, so why start it, Clay? I’m perfectly capable of driving myself to work.”

  They faced off in Claire’s living room early the next morning, after he showed up in time for breakfast and announced his intention of escorting her to Solomon’s Gate.

  “I have no doubt as to your abilities.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But I’m not going to be able to work until I know your office hasn’t been tampered with, and no one is waiting inside for you.” He shook his head, obviously frustrated. “We’re not talking about forever here—just until we catch this scoundrel.”

  She strode across the room to peer into an ornate gold mirror hanging in Claire’s entry way. “Think about what you’re saying. We may never know who this guy is.” She straightened the vivid coral, silk scarf around her neck and tightened her high ponytail before turning to face him. “And I may never hear from him again.”

  Clay stood with his feet apart. His hard jaw had the unyielding lines of chiseled stone. Watching him, Destiny thought he belonged in a Wild West flick. Clay Gallagher, rugged cowboy hero, ever ready to defend his land, his woman, his way of life.

  He spoke, ripping her out of her mental movie and back to the here and now. “We can hope not, Destiny, but I don’t think you believe that any more than I do.”

  She met his gaze and gave a slight shake of her head. “No. I don’t. But still, it’s bad enough that I’m imposing on your mother’s hospitality. I don’t intend to become a burden to you, too.”

  He snorted. “That’s just ridiculous. You’re not an imposition. You’re not a burden. And you should know that by now.”

  Beneath the mirror, a lovely hand-carved table held a small handbag that matched Destiny’s coral scarf and strappy sandals. With a huff, she snatched it up and swung around to open the door, casting a frustrated glance back over her shoulder. “Fine. We’ll do it your way today—and only today—but if we don’t get going we’ll both be late.”

  He followed her to the car in silence, and didn’t speak until they were on the road. Reaching across the seat, he gently picked up her hand. “Look, maybe I am being over-protective. If so, I’m sincerely sorry.” He chuckled. “Why am I constantly apologizing for caring about you?”

  Destiny glanced at him, only to find that single dimple playing hide-and-seek on his cheek, and a familiar grin dancing on his lips. Before she knew what was happening, her own lips curved in a smile.

  Relenting, she squeezed the hand that still held her own. “I’m sorry, too.” She bit at her lower lip and eyed him ruefully. “I’m just so accustomed to taking care of myself, Clay. I guess I’m having a hard time adjusting to somebody else sharing that dubious pleasure.”

  He swung the car into the parking slot and killed the engine. Without replying, he got out, walked around the vehicle and opened her door. When she stood, he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head. “Get used to it, Destiny May. I ain’t goin’ nowhere!”

  Laughing, she took his arm and they walked to the imposing oak doors. She pulled out her key and inserted it into the lock, but a sudden, icy dread nearly froze her in place. Her heart beat out a rapid tattoo, and her breath came in short huffs. She found herself more than a little grateful Clay stood at her side.

  Pushing the door, she breathed a sigh of relief. Everything appeared to be in the same pristine order in which she’d left it the night before. Julie’s desk, clear of papers and clutter, gleamed under the overhead light. The chairs in the waiting area, in perfect alignment, surrounded a table on which rested an assortment of magazines and brochures. Not even a tiny piece of lint marred the beauty of the mint-colored carpet.

  Clay made his way through every room, opening cabinet doors, peering into closets, even picking up the phone to check for a dial tone. At last, he gave her a pronouncement of “clean and clear.” He brushed his lips across her cheek and waved as he headed for his own office, holding the door for Julie, who entered as he left.

  After stuffing an oversized hobo bag into a drawer in her desk, the diminutive blonde peeked around the door frame into Destiny’s office. “Good morning, boss. Clay was here early.”

  Digging through a file drawer, Destiny barely looked up. “He brought me to work.”

  “Oh.” Julie hesitated, frowning. “Is something wrong with your car?”

  “No.” Destiny dumped several manila folders onto her desk and beckoned the younger woman to enter. “Come on in. I need to talk to you.”

  Julie obeyed, but her hesitance was unmistakable. She sat on the edge of a chair opposite Destiny and chewed at her lip. “Have I done something wrong, Destiny? Is this about C.J.? Because if it is—”

  Holding up a hand to stop her, Destiny smiled. “Relax. You’re doing a great job, and as for C.J., well—” She grinned and bit back a burst of laughter, recalling the scene in the lobby a few days ago. “As for C.J., we don’t have a problem. If you’d like to date him, feel free to do so. You have my blessing, if you think you need it. OK?”

  Julie blew out a breath and relaxed, her entire body going limp. Destiny realized what a strain the girl had been under. “I’m sorry, Julie. I should have c
leared the air already, except I didn’t realize it needed clearing.”

  A blush stole up Julie’s delicate cheeks. “It’s just that it looked worse than it really was when you came in the other day.” Her blue eyes begged understanding. “Nothing was going on, I promise. He just stopped by to see you, and we got to talking. Of course, C.J. couldn’t sit in a chair like anyone else would. He had to come lean on my desk.” She lowered her eyes. “I’m so attracted to him, Destiny. I have been since that first day he showed up here.” Once again, she shot Destiny an imploring look. “But I thought the two of you were involved, and I wouldn’t have gone out with him. I really wouldn’t.”

  Destiny chuckled. “Julie?”

  The girl looked up and into her eyes.

  “I don’t need any explanations, and I’m fine with you dating C.J. if you want to. Of course…” Grinning, she slid an application across the desk. “I may have to charge you a Seeker’s fee!”

  They both burst out laughing, and all remaining tension dissipated. After a moment, Destiny sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Now that that’s settled, I do have something a little more serious to talk about.” She chose her words with care, not wanting to frighten the other woman. “This may or may not affect you, but…well, the truth is, your safety could be in question. I want you to know what’s going on. Then if you’re not comfortable, I’ll be happy to write you a letter of reference and you can leave with my complete understanding.”

  She presented a nutshell version of the previous night’s events, and waited for a response, half expecting to lose her assistant. But the plucky blonde gave her a thumbs-up signal and shook her head in firm negation. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, boss. We’re in this together.”

  Destiny fought the urge to cry. “Thank you, Julie. I appreciate your support.” She pointed at the door, pasting a mock-stern look on her face. “Now get out there and do your job.”