Return of the Runaway Bride

by Donna Fasano

  When it became clear that he had no intention of explaining himself without prompting, she asked, "Well, are you going to tell me what's going on in your head? I think I deserve to know why you were so antagonistic in there."

  "You do deserve to know," he agreed.

  The scowl on his face and the manner in which he jammed his fists into his pockets clearly told Savanna that he wasn't looking forward to saying whatever it was that was on his mind. As the eternity of one second ticked by, and then another, she had plenty of time to wonder what he was about to reveal.

  Finally he simply shook his head. "There's no other way to say it but plain and clear." He looked her directly in the eye. "I don't want you to hurt these people," he said. "They know nothing about what goes into putting on a big, fancy dinner. This hospital, this town, means everything to them. I won't let you come in here, get their hopes high and then let them plummet to the ground." His dark eyes bore into has as he repeated, "I won't let you hurt these people, Savanna."

  "Hurt them?" The question dripped with the incredulity that filled her to the brim.

  His lips pursed tightly for a bare instant, then he spelled it out. "I don't trust you to stick around and see these high ideas of yours to fruition."

  His words slowly settled into her brain. She felt as though her heart was in a vise, and his cutting accusation turned the lever, tightened the squeezing pain.

  When she spoke, her voice was tiny, wounded. "I won't back out on these people. I'd never do anything to hurt them."

  His gaze didn't soften. "You would never intentionally hurt them. But you'll hurt them just the same."

  The white line around his compressed lips silently shouted out to her that he knew this from experience. Personal experience. God, would she never be able to live down the fact that she'd run out on him?

  "This is a worthy cause and I know you mean well." He stepped close to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "But you and I both know that the minute something doesn't go your way, or you find another more worthy cause somewhere else, or if the impulse strikes, you'll fly out of here like a bird on the wind."

  Savanna's breath was knocked out of her just as if he'd hit her in the stomach. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

  "It wasn't like that before," she said. "I didn't leave six years ago because something didn't go my way." As she repeated his words, their meaning suddenly smacked her in the face. He thought she was irresponsible, and that sparked a fire in her. "I didn't run away because of some cause!" Her voice rose in volume. "And the urge to leave town didn't just strike me out of the blue."

  She looked into his eyes and realized that they both knew her last statement wasn't true. Knocking his hands off her shoulders, she backed up a step. She needed some room to breathe, to think.

  "You don't understand at all why I left, do you?"

  He folded his arms across his chest and quietly said, "I understand perfectly why you left. You had legitimate reasons, wonderful reasons." The muscle in his jaw tensed. "When the people of Fulton need you to come through for them…"

  Like I once needed you to come through for me, his eyes conveyed.

  "…you'll find other reasons to leave. Just as legitimate. And in your mind, just as justifiable."

  She refused to be hurt by his distrust. And she tried hard to fight against the ire building inside her, but she couldn't keep her eyes from narrowing the tiniest bit as she said, "You can't keep me out, Daniel. This is my hometown. I know these people. I will help them. No matter what you say. I will."

  Shoving past him, Savanna stomped down the hall toward the meeting room. She paused at the closed door when she heard hoopla and applause coming from inside.

  Daniel came up behind her and, reaching around her, turned the knob and pushed open the door.

  "Well, that's it, then," they both heard Jim Thompson say. "Meeting adjourned."

  "What's going on?" Daniel's question dampened the happy atmosphere of the small crowd.

  Jim looked surprised. "Daniel, Savanna. We couldn't find the two of you," he said. "Ida said that you had probably left."

  Daniel glared at Miz Ida, who had sense enough to avoid his eyes.

  "We discussed a couple of Savanna's ideas," Jim went on. "We took a vote."

  Savanna felt a flutter of excitement wash over her.

  "Don't look so dour, Daniel," Ida said. "The board had a quorum present. And we all knew how you felt about Savanna's ideas. Your thoughts were taken into serious consideration."

  Jim looked at Savanna. "Of course, the carnival was voted down," he said. "Simply because we don't have the front money to make it happen."

  Daniel's smug "harrumph" behind her made her want to plant a well-aimed elbow in his ribs.

  "But I'm happy to tell you that both the telemarketing idea and the gala dinner were unanimously approved." Jim smiled and shook her hand. "I hope you're ready to work for Fulton General, because we have lots of volunteers but absolutely no experience. It's going to be like teaching a group of babies how to walk."

  "Don't worry, Jim," Savanna was quick to assure him. "I'll be here every step of the way."

  She could barely contain herself. She wanted so badly to turn around and thumb her nose at Daniel. He didn't believe in her, but these people did.

  "Oh," Miz Ida piped in, "the room we're planning to use to make the phone calls only has two telephones, so the board members paired off." She smiled sweetly. "Since you weren't here, Daniel, we matched you with the expert." Ida glanced from Daniel to Savanna and back to Daniel.

  Savanna felt a giggle bubble at the back of her throat, but she held it in check. This was a perfect opportunity to show Daniel that she really intended to come through for the people of Fulton.

  Before he could object to working with her, she turned to face him and said in a rush, "I'm free any night you are, Daniel."

  Chapter Seven

  "Daniel's leaving Fulton?"

  Jolted by Ida's disclosure, Savanna stared, wide eyed. Finally she shook her head. "It can't be true. Daniel wouldn't leave town. Why would he do such a thing? How do you know this? Who told you? When did you hear this?"

  "Whoa," Ida said. "Just slow down and let me talk a minute. This isn't idle hearsay."

  Savanna accepted her change from Ida and tucked it in her wallet.

  "My cousin Emma's daughter does some typing for Daniel's office manager when things get busy," Ida explained, bagging up the groceries. "Emma called me, all upset, and told me that Darlene had typed and mailed a letter that Daniel had dictated into his little recorder machine. She said that he was sending for information about a partnership offer. An offer from a big law firm in Richmond."

  Ida fell silent, and Savanna spent an inordinate amount of time rooting in her purse for her keys as she tried to take in the information.

  This just didn't make sense. Why would Daniel even think about leaving Fulton? This was his hometown.

  "It was Emma's opinion…" Ida's voice broke the stillness that had fallen over them like a pall "…that his reason might have something to do with you."

  "But that's ridiculous," Savanna exclaimed. "How on earth could it have anything to do with me? I haven't been here for years, and I'll be gone this time next month..."

  As the words faded, she realized that she may not be telling the honest truth. She had to admit that staying in Fulton, moving her base of operations here, had crossed her mind. The friendliness of this small town, the place where she was born, had raised a longing in her. A longing to come home.

  "I know," Ida said. "I told Emma that. But from what she said Darlene said about that letter, Daniel is dead serious." She gazed at Savanna with troubled eyes. "And if he does leave town, Fulton will be losing someone special."

  ~ ~ ~

  "I just can't understand it," Savanna said as she strolled along the sidewalk with Amanda in tow.

  Sheila absently rubbed the small of her back. "Something is weighing on his mind. Something he
avy. Otherwise I'm sure Daniel would never consider leaving town."

  "He's the hospital's attorney," Savanna replied more to herself than to Sheila. "Doesn't he know how much those people need him? Especially now when things are so bad at Fulton General."

  "Jimmy, get back up on the sidewalk," Sheila warned her son. "It's not safe to walk in the street."

  "Aw, Mom." Jimmy reluctantly stepped up onto the curb.

  "Have we walked too far?" Savanna asked Sheila.

  "No." Sheila smiled. "I'm fine. Let's go one more block and then we can head for home."

  Amanda hopped over the cracks in the sidewalk. "Step on a cwack, bwake your mommy's back," the little girl sang.

  "I was just so surprised yesterday," Savanna said, returning to the original topic, "when Ida said I might be the reason Daniel is thinking about leaving.

  Sheila shrugged. "Well, you did say you may have given him the impression that you'd like to move back to town."

  "I've hinted, I guess." Savanna grimaced. "I guess you could say that I've dropped hints to everyone I've met." She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Mostly in way of compliments. Everything feels clean and fresh here. Homey. The people are friendly. Neighborly would describe it better, I think, and I've commented about these things to everyone. I hadn't realized it, but my subconscious has been talking since the day I drove into town."

  The smile that tilted Sheila's lips was warm. "You really do want to come home, don't you?"

  Savanna hesitated, started to speak, then pressed her lips together. She couldn't even think about that right now.

  "We really should do something about Daniel," she said.

  Sheila slowly shook her head. "No, we shouldn't."

  "What do you mean? I'm seeing him tonight at the hospital. We're making calls for contributions. I can ask him about it. Tell him what I heard."

  "Savanna." Sheila stopped her ebullience with a frown. "He needs to work this out for himself. I know your first instinct is to pounce on him and confront the issue. That's your way of doing things. But it's none of your business. It's none of my business."

  "But…"

  "No 'buts,'" Sheila said. "I really think everyone should leave Daniel alone. Miz Ida included. I know her worries are plastered with good intentions. But if and when Daniel wants us to know his plans, he'll tell us."

  "But he may be leaving because of me," she stressed.

  "If you move back to town," Sheila commented, "Daniel will have to learn to live with it."

  "Or move out of town and not live with it," Savanna muttered.

  "Either way," Sheila said with finality, "he should be allowed to make his own decision."

  Rounding the corner in silence, they headed back toward their street. Inhaling deeply, Savanna tipped her chin and felt the warm sunlight on her face, listened to the birds singing in the trees above her head. She thought it ironic that she was thinking of coming home to Fulton and Daniel was thinking of leaving.

  She wouldn't want anyone telling her what she should or shouldn't do. Who was she to question Daniel about considering a move to Richmond? His mother lived there. So did his sister, Celia, and her family. And if he had been offered a lucrative business partnership, then that was only one more incentive for him to go.

  Turning to Sheila, she said, "You're right. Daniel has a lot to work out. And none of it has anything to do with me. I won't ask him about it." A grin forced its way across her mouth. "No matter how much I might want to."

  ~ ~ ~

  Savanna brushed her hair until it was soft and smooth. The weight of it fell across her bare shoulders. Slipping her arms into the royal-blue silk shell, she pulled the top over her head and flipped her hair out from the rounded neckline.

  The supple fabric felt sensuous against her skin as she tucked it into the waistband of a pair of body-hugging black trousers. She slipped her black-stockinged feet into black leather flats and stood in front of the full length mirror to look at herself.

  "My, my, my," she said, pleased with the image staring back at her. She fastened a simple gold chain around her neck and gold hoop earrings into her earlobes. A touch of lipstick and a swipe of mascara and she'd be ready.

  The thought of seeing Daniel tonight brought a tickle of excitement to her stomach. And she wanted very much to look exceptionally good. She knew the two things were very much connected. It bothered her that since she'd returned to Fulton, Daniel hadn't stopped accusing and preaching at her long enough to notice that she was a real flesh-and-blood person, a real flesh-and-blood woman. She wanted to change that.

  Being noticed by men had never been a problem for Savanna. In fact, the problem had been the opposite. Her public-oriented occupation had been the cause of all the male attention she received, she was sure.

  Having a job that required constant contact with so many people, it was only natural that men would ask her out. She'd always made it a rule to be up-front and honest with the men she chose to date. And she'd tried hard not to hurt the few who had become serious about her.

  But in all the six years since she'd left Fulton, she'd never found a man who conjured the kinds of physical reactions in her that Daniel had. She'd worried that she'd somehow made more of her relationship with Daniel than what it had really been. She worried that, in her mind, she may have turned what she and he had shared together into some kind of fantastic, intimate fantasy, the likes of which she'd never again find.

  And here she was, taking great pains to look attractive, going out of her way to make certain that Daniel would become aware of her as a woman. Why? she wondered, looking closely at her reflection in the mirror. Why would she want to attract the attention of a man she hadn't seen in so long, a man whom she had hurt and humiliated, a man who had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with her?

  A shocking answer to the question flitted at the edge of her thoughts, causing a flush to creep over her skin. She shook her head sharply and pushed the entire train of thought from her mind.

  Making Daniel notice her should be the least of her worries. She should be thinking of the fund-raising dinner, of the plans that were still left to be made. There were plenty of them. She should be focusing on updating the schedule she'd made for the volunteers who were willing to make telephone calls for contributions that would benefit Fulton General.

  She grabbed her purse and her satchel and went out the door. Tonight she was going to teach Daniel the fine art of telemarketing. For now, she needed to focus on that fact alone.

  With fund-raising plans whirling in her mind, she pulled the car out of the driveway and steered toward the hospital. A dark foreboding descended on her as she drove through the streets of this small town. What if Daniel was right? What if her ideas were too much for the people of Fulton? Could she handle this job competently? There were so many people in the community depending on her. Would Daniel's prediction come true? Was there any possibility of her getting scared or overwhelmed or who-knows-what and leaving before seeing the dinner complete and successful?

  The questions tied knots of doubt in her stomach. A tiny frown pulled her brows together. She was letting Daniel's pessimism color what she knew about herself. She wasn't that frightened teenager any longer. Never had she let down a client. Not even once had she met with anything but success since she'd started her business. Raising money was a talent, a skill she'd honed to perfection. She was more than capable of handling this job. And she'd be damned if she'd let Daniel Walsh make her feel otherwise.

  After she parked the car and slammed the car door shut, she squared her shoulders with a fierce determination and marched toward the hospital. She would see that this dinner was a success. She would make sure that the volunteers raised more money for Fulton General than they had ever imagined. If Daniel thought differently—and she knew that he did—well, he'd best get ready to learn that Savanna Langford didn't back down until she accomplished her goal.

  She found the office that was set up for the purpose of
making telephone calls. The sight of Daniel sitting at the lone desk, impatiently tapping a pencil against a yellow legal pad caused a seed of anxiety to sprout in her.

  "Am I late?" she asked.

  He lifted his head. "No," he said. "I was early."

  She set her briefcase on the desk, opened it and extracted a notepad and pen.

  "I'm sorry about the close confines," he said, waving a hand to indicate the small room. "It's the only office not in use."

  "It's okay," she said, her tone clipped. "We don't need anything elaborate to get the job done. A couple of telephones. A quiet room where we won't be disturbed." She eyed her notes and then him across the desk. "Since I only have one copy of notes, how about if I come around there and we can share?"

  The thought of sharing anything with Daniel brought an unexpected rush of heat to her cheeks. She dipped her head, letting her hair fall in a curtain that covered the side of her face, and rummaged in her satchel in an effort to hide her reaction.

  "Sure," he said.

  He stood, slid his chair to one side and came around the desk to pick up the other chair.

  "I can do that," she told him.

  "And what would my mother say about the manners of a Southern gentleman who allowed a lady to carry her own chair?"

  His easy grin caught her unawares, and before she realized it, her own lips were drawn back in a warm smile.

  "You're right," Savanna commented. "She wouldn't take too kindly to that idea."

  "There you go." Daniel set the chair into place and gestured for Savanna to sit.

  She did, and as he settled into his chair she said, "She looked good, by the way. Your mother. When I visited her last week, I was happy to see her healthy."

  Daniel nodded. “I wish I had the time to visit her a little more often than I do."

  Is that why you're thinking of leaving Fulton? The question was on the tip of Savanna's tongue, but she refused to ask it.

  She glanced at her wristwatch. "We really should get started," she said. "I need a few minutes to explain how this works before we can begin making calls. And we don't want to call anyone much later than eight o'clock."