Hallie's Destiny (The Donovans of the Delta)

by Peggy Webb

  She whizzed toward the ranch, but unlike the beginning of her camping trip a few short days ago, she didn’t hear freedom calling her name. Instead, she heard the faint echo of Josh Butler’s voice saying, “Take care, Hallie Donovan.”

  o0o

  Josh hadn’t fallen asleep until almost dawn, and he woke up feeling sluggish. The pain of telling Hallie goodbye hadn’t diminished one iota. She’s already gone. He could sense it. There was a deserted feeling about the cove, a lonesome feeling.

  He kicked back his sleeping bag and prepared to pack up his belongings. He’d waste no time in getting on his way.

  He had his bag tied up and in the rig before he realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Everything about the lake was a vivid reminder of Hallie, and he suddenly discovered a great reluctance in himself to leave all evidence of her behind. Like an addict, he couldn’t cut her out of his life with one swift move; he had to wean himself away in stages.

  He decided he’d fish the lake first, knowing that she wouldn’t appear from around the bend. Then he’d visit her empty campsite and store away the memory of their catfish supper. He’d watch the sunset over the lake one last time to remind himself that the sun could move its appointed rounds across the sky without her. He’d swim in the night darkness of the lake to reassure himself that the moon didn’t shine only for her. The hardest would be saved for last—a visit to the meadow of bluebonnets where they’d laughed together in the sunshine.

  It took him two days to bid his goodbyes to the place of his lovely interlude with Hallie. As he sat in the empty meadow among the blue flowers, he remembered; and with the memories came the sure knowledge that he had to see her one more time. Not to try and resurrect the golden time they’d spent together. Not for one final look, one final touch, although, Lord knew, seeing Hallie meant he’d want her. No, he thought. His motive, misdirected as it might be, was to tell her the truth. He remembered her shining face when she’d called him her poetic trucking man. She’d trusted him, and he’d betrayed her trust. Though nothing else would be accomplished by seeing her, he had to explain to her why he’d carried out the charade.

  o0o

  The third day after Hallie’s departure, Josh finally broke camp. He’d start his trace with a visit to Raymond’s store, he decided. If that didn’t work, there was always the phone book. She’d be listed, and so would her brother, Tanner Donovan. He’d find Hallie; there was no doubt about it. Then he’d head back to Florence and his responsibilities.

  When Raymond’s came into view, he felt a lifting of his spirits. He parked his rig in the same spot Hallie always parked her outrageous El Dorado and went inside.

  Raymond was behind the counter as usual. But his smile faded when he saw Josh.

  Josh had worked with people too long not to notice. He strode to the icebox and took out a cold can of juice. Then, drawn by some force he refused to acknowledge, he stopped by the snack rack and picked up a bag of corn chips.

  He paid Raymond. “Have you seen Hallie lately?”

  “Yep.”

  Josh wasn’t deterred by the coolness of the reply. When he went after something, he never backed down.

  “When?”

  “The other day.”

  For reasons known only to him, Raymond was stalling. Josh decided to try a new tactic. He put the full force of his personality to bear on the strangely taciturn storekeeper—the sincere smile, the confidential attitude, the honest expression in his eyes—all the attributes that had catapulted him from successful salesman to entrepreneur. His guile didn’t make him feel the least bit remorseful. He had to know about Hallie.

  “She’s one of the most remarkable women I’ve ever met.” True, he thought. “Can outfish me by a country mile. And rodeoing! I’ve never met another woman who was brave enough to do that. She thinks the world of you, too. How was she the other day? Do you know?”

  He’d sneaked the questions in so fast behind the compliments, Raymond was caught off guard. Besides, he knew that Raymond prided himself on knowing everything.

  “Of course I know. I make it my business to know everything that goes on around here. And I can tell you right now, fellow, you threw our Hallie for a loop. She was looking peaked when she came in, and that magazine article about you didn’t help matters a bit.”

  “What magazine article?”

  “The one in Fortune.”

  Josh felt cold all over. Hearing Hallie was disconsolate had been bad enough; knowing she’d learned of his duplicity in such an abrupt manner was more than he could bear. He felt pain akin to the pain of saying goodbye.

  “Do you know where she was going?”

  “Of course I do. Her brother’s ranch. She said she was going to do some rodeoing. And if you ask me, that’s not the thing to do in her state of mind.”

  “Can you tell me how to get there?”

  As he listened, he wished he could relive the past few days. He’d have stayed on his side of the cove and let Hallie stay on hers. Then his gypsy angel would never have been hurt.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  At first glance the ranch appeared deserted. Josh wheeled his rig over the winding driveway, taking note of the vast pastureland, empty as far as the eye could see except for the horses cropping the green spring grass. Through the trees Josh could see the ranch house, low-lying and rustic, its cypress and glass exterior blending in with the landscape.

  As he parked his rig, he looked for Hallie’s car. It was nowhere in sight. Only a large gray van graced the driveway.

  Josh went to the front door and rang the bell. A slim young Mexican woman greeted him. Her shiny black hair was arranged in a coronet of braids, and her smile was as bright as her yellow embroidered dress.

  “Good afternoon.” Her English was perfect, with only the smallest inflection to indicate it was not her native language. Josh wondered if he had come to the wrong house.

  “Hello. I’m Josh Butler, a friend of Miss Donovan’s. Is this the Donovan ranch?”

  “Indeed, it is.” The young woman extended a slim brown hand. “I’m Carmen Silvera, and any friend of the Donovans is always welcome.” She held the door wide. “Won’t you come in?”

  Josh stepped into a room that was so full of space and light he had the impression of still being outdoors. Bright woven rugs were scattered across the gleaming wooden floors, and sunlight poured through the skylights and the uncurtained windows. Beside the natural stone fireplace, Ludwig glanced up from a pillow, yawned hugely, then went back to sleep. The sight of him made Josh smile.

  “Miss Donovan is here then.” It was a statement more than a question.

  Carmen glanced from Ludwig to Josh. Her laugh had a bright, mischievous tinkle. “She is. Out back. Sitting in the sunshine as if she can’t get enough of it.” She nodded toward the French doors. “Right through there.”

  Josh walked through the doors. Hallie was sitting with her back to him, knees drawn up, dark gypsy hair gleaming in the sunshine. He stood for a moment watching her, drinking in the sight of her.

  Suddenly he heard the dog growl. Out of the corner of his right eye he saw a flash of gray fur. Everything happened so fast he wasn’t sure of the sequence. He found himself flat on the ground staring up into the fangs of a large Siberian husky.

  “Hold him, Pete.” The face and hair were Hallie’s, but the voice and eyes were not. She spoke with Hallie’s throaty voice, but without the soft southern drawl. Fascinated, Josh gazed into her eyes. They were the bluest blue he’d ever seen.

  “You’re not Hallie.”

  “No. Carmen loves to play that prank. State your name and business.” She stood above him as serene as if she were conducting a Sunday school class, one hand on her trim hip and the other resting lightly on the dog’s head. Josh didn’t feel reassured. The husky’s fangs were still bared, and it growled low in its throat.

  “Do you mind calling off the dog?”

  “First things first. Your name?”

  “Josh Butler.”
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  She gave a low-voiced command, and the dog trotted off, its tail wagging.

  “I’m Hannah Donovan, Hallie’s twin.” He watched Hallie’s glorious smile light her face. Extending a hand, she pulled him up with surprising strength. “We have a lot to talk about, Josh Butler.” She was supremely in command as she linked her arm with his and led him toward the redwood bench.

  o0o

  Two hours after he left Hannah, Josh was seated on an ancient wooden bleacher at a rodeo ring. Rick Johnson’s Wild Rodeo, the banner opposite the chutes proclaimed. In small print the banner warned, Not for the timid. Josh grinned and thought that Johnson should have added, only for the wealthy. After trying to gain access to Hallie and being told no visitors were allowed beyond the chutes, he’d paid a handsome sum to become a spectator. Since there were no programs, all he could do was sit and wait.

  Curbing his impatience, he watched the event in progress. Bull riding, from the looks of things. The bull in the ring was a white Brahman. It was a small bull, not one of the sixteen hundred pound behemoths, but still it plunged around the ring, bucking and snorting, trying its best to unseat the slim rider on its back. The rider hung on, one leather-gloved hand tight on the rope, the other waving triumphantly in the air. Josh saw that even though the rider wore spurs, he never used them. He seemed to generate an energy that communicated itself to the bull, who plunged and reared in a magnificent display of rage.

  The loudspeaker squawked to life. “And the rider is two-time champ in the category of . . .”

  The announcer’s voice was drowned out by a roar from the crowd. The rider’s Stetson had sailed into the air, releasing a wild mane of black hair.

  The man next to Josh jumped up, clapping and whistling, “Good lord, no wonder she’s the women’s champ.”

  “It’s Hallie,” he whispered. Shock held him in his seat for a second, then he was up and running. His only thought was to get her away from the bull before she got herself killed. Halfway down the bleachers he realized how foolhardy going into the ring would be. What defense would he have against a bucking, snorting bull? He’d only make matters worse. His steps slowed as he made his way to the bottom. All he could do was wait and pray she’d survive.

  He leaned against the fence, close enough now to see her face. She was wearing a daredevil grin. He almost could hear her chuckling. Suddenly the snorting bull twisted in the air and came down with a jolt that almost unseated Hallie. Josh gripped the rail as she hung on. Behind him the crowd rose to its feet, whistling and cheering.

  “Eight seconds!” the announcer yelled into the speakers. “She stayed up for the whole ride! Let’s hear it for H. M. Donovan!”

  Hallie bailed off the bull, landing on her feet behind two expert cowboys dressed as clowns whose sole purpose was to protect her while she made her exit. Josh watched until she was safely over the fence, then he started running.

  “Excuse me . . . pardon me . . . excuse me,” he said periodically as he made his way toward Hallie.

  She was leaving the arena, heading toward the deserted parking lot, still wearing her chaps and spurs.

  “Hallie!” She looked over her shoulder when he yelled her name. For an instant her face lit, then the smile faded. She spun back around and swiftly walked away.

  Josh sprinted, closing the distance between them. With both hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face him. Fear for her safety made him react like a parent scolding a naughty child.

  “You might have gotten killed out there. What in the hell were you doing?”

  Her chin stubbornly came up. “I was riding a bull.”

  “I know that. But why?”

  “That’s what I do. I compete in women’s bull riding. It has nothing to do with you.”

  She turned to pull away, but he kept her in an iron grip.

  “I have to talk to you, Hallie.”

  “Let go of me, Josh. You had your fun at the lake.”

  “Is that what you think? That I was toying with you?”

  “Weren’t you?”

  She twisted one arm free and drew back her fist. Josh caught her arm and hauled her tightly against his chest.

  “No.” He hadn’t meant to shout, and her reaction was swift. Her eyes got stormy and her face flushed with fury.

  “Toying with you never entered my mind, Hallie. I’m so sorry you feel that way.”

  Even after what he hoped was a very sincere apology, she never moderated her anger. She glowed with it, vibrated with it.

  And he was beguiled. Without warning desire assaulted him, insistent and demanding. Without thinking, he kissed her.

  She bucked against him in a brief show of resistance, but her mouth was as hungry as his. Their coming together was thunderous. They battled with their lips, attacking and retreating, tongues thrusting and counterthrusting. The love battle served to increase the heat of passion between them.

  There in the deserted parking lot, with their lips still locked in dual, he had the crazy sensation that he was still at the rodeo, watching Hallie ride a bull with consummate ease, one spur dug into the ground and one jingling in the air as she wrapped her right leg around his left.

  Josh’s dizzy, mad hunger drove him on, and he could only imagine what damage he was doing to his chances of ever appearing sincere and honest to Hallie after this display in a public parking lot. He even wondered if he were losing his mind, if somehow the years of being immersed in taking care of broken family members had taken its toll and he was slowly coming unhinged.

  There was so much he should be saying to her, so many deep feeling he wanted to express, and yet he was trapped, under the spell of the intoxicating woman who responded to him as if the two of them had invented kissing.

  With a mighty effort, Josh found the bit of sanity he was seeking and finally pulled apart. They stood for a while, dazed, two mavericks who were almost adversaries, almost friends, almost lovers, both of them hungering for what they felt they couldn’t have.

  “One taste of you is never enough.” Josh reached out and tenderly lifted a curl off her damp forehead.

  “No. It never seemed to be enough between us.”

  Hallie suppressed the urge to go back into his arms. The ancient knowledge of her past and the recent knowledge of his deception bound her. The rage to feel, to touch and be touched, made two bright spots of color ride high on her cheekbones.

  Josh’s hand was gentle as he touched one passion-flushed cheek. She dug her spurs deeper into the ground and tossed her head back proudly, like a spirited, unbroken filly.

  “What do you want of me, Josh?”

  “Forgiveness.”

  The appeal in his golden eyes made her heart weep. Big silent tears of agony seemed to form in that wildly fluttering organ and flow outward into every part of her body. She was liquid with the feeling of tears and regret.

  Reaching out, she took his hand. “Come.”

  “Thank you, Hallie.”

  She led him to her car. Josh opened the door, and they slid onto the front seat. The steamy heat from a relentless Texas sun had been captured by the leather seats and held inside by the raised top of the El Dorado.

  In the closeness Josh was acutely aware of the heady fragrance of honeysuckle that drifted from her hair. A great primitive desire took hold of him again. He fought the impulse to kiss her again. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled her scent. Hallie . . . Hallie. Her name sang through his mind like a song begging to be written, and he realized she’d become his obsession. No matter what he said, no matter how far away he ran, he would never be free of her.

  “I’m waiting, Josh.”

  He shook his head like a lion trying to deny his instincts. His hand reached out and captured hers.

  “Don’t.” She pulled away, backing so close against her side of the car, the door handle bit into her ribs. She was glad for the small discomfort. “How did you find me?”

  “Raymond gave me directions to the ranch, and Hannah told me how to get he
re.”

  “Hannah would. She loves to be in charge. But why did Raymond tell you?”

  His smile just missed being debonair. “I suppose I appealed to his Good Samaritan side.”

  Her smile just missed being gay. “You would. You appealed to mine.”

  “Past tense?”

  “Yes.”

  With the air between them practically steaming from the heat of their suppressed passion, they both knew her answer was a lie. He gave her a long, deep look.

  “We could play this cat and mouse game forever,” he said.

  “We could. We’ve had lots of practice.”

  “On the other hand . . . I could tell you the truth.”

  “The truth? Josh Butler, owner of Silken Moments. One of the richest men in America.” Her voice was flat and toneless as she quoted from Fortune magazine.

  “I’m so sorry you saw that magazine. I didn’t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  But he had, she thought. Whether he’d meant to or not, Josh Butler had dallied with her affections, betrayed her trust. She knew she would forgive him. His sins of omission could never outweigh the goodness she instinctively knew he possessed. But she had the very basic human need to lick her wounds, to vent her anger, to wallow in her pain, even to inflict some of her own before she allowed the healing power of forgiveness to restore her.

  “You must have found my offer to pay for the steak very amusing.”

  “You know that’s not true.”

  “And all my talk about the freedom of the open road. You secretly must have been chuckling at my gullibility.”

  He didn’t respond to her accusation, merely sat like a great golden jungle cat, with tense body and watchful eyes.

  “I called you my poetic trucking man . . . and you let me.”