Return of the Runaway Bride

by Donna Fasano

  "My fault," she said, waving off his apologies. "Did you see Mr. Walsh? Daniel Walsh?"

  "Yes," the surprised young man said. "He's waiting for the elevator."

  "Thanks," she called over her shoulder.

  The elevator doors were just gliding shut as she reached them. Savanna cursed under her breath and turned toward the door leading to the stairs.

  Her heart felt as though it would burst as she rushed down the steps, two at a time. Bursting onto the first floor, she ran toward the front entrance.

  She was impervious to the hot, muggy air that hit her full-force in the face as she erupted into the night.

  "Daniel!" she called.

  He was in the parking lot, his back to her. He didn't stop.

  "Daniel, please," she shouted, continuing to run toward him. "Wait!"

  The high-powered street lamp threw shadows over his face when he turned to face her. Her chest was heaving, her lungs burning, when she stopped a few feet from him.

  "Please," she said, panting. "I need to talk to you."

  "Seems to me you've already said plenty."

  "I know. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that. I shouldn't have told everyone your plans."

  "My plans?" He gave a derisive laugh. "And just how the hell did you find out about my plans, anyway?"

  Savanna tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Finally she gave a little shrug, refusing to add to her sins by incriminating Ida.

  Daniel shook his head. "The rumors fly fast and furious in this town, don't they? I guess I already knew that..." He sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair.

  She gave a small nod of her head.

  "I know," she said, her voice sounding weak to her ears, "there were rumors floating around about me too. Rumors that said I had plans of staying on in Fulton."

  He moved to speak, but she cut him off with one upraised palm. She had to do this. She might not want to, but she had to.

  "Let me finish." She swallowed and gathered the courage to tell him the truth. "Daniel, the rumors were true. In fact, I'm sure I probably fueled them. I was thinking of moving back to town." She took a step closer to him. "But I won't," she said. Pausing, she ran her tongue over her dry lips. "I won't move back here, if you'll promise to stay. Daniel, these people care about you. They love you." Her voice lowered an octave as she added, "They need you."

  She moved closer. "You may not realize it, but you're an intricate part of this town. You're one of the reasons Fulton is what it is. You can't move away from here."

  Taking another step, she was a scant few inches from him. "I promise I'll go. Right after the dinner, I'll pack up my things and go back to Baltimore."

  A solitary tear slid silently down her cheek and she dipped her head to hide it. She hated the sound of the words, hated the thought of promising to go back to that lonely apartment in that overcrowded city. But she would. She'd do it for the man she loved. She'd do it for Daniel.

  "Savanna."

  She started at the sound of his voice. Swiping her hand quickly across her cheek, she lifted her chin and looked into his eyes.

  "Savanna, I'm not going anywhere," he said, his tone almost gentle. "I won't lie to you. I did consider moving to Richmond."

  His chest expanded as he inhaled, and Savanna had a fleeting thought of how comforting it would be to rest her head there.

  "But," he continued, "do you remember the day we painted the room in your house?"

  She would never forget the fun she'd had with him that day.

  "The day we had ice cream cones on the front porch?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "Well, you went on and on about Fulton. You listed the town's attributes as only an out-of-towner could."

  Savanna didn't understand why he suddenly looked chagrined.

  "I was a little embarrassed," he explained, "that I had forgotten them. All the wonderful things Fulton has to offer, all the great reasons my parents chose to raise their children here, all the amazing qualities that make Fulton the place I want to be in. I left your house that day in a rush, if you remember. And I made a call to Richmond, declining their offer. I came to your house later that night to tell you. But…" He couldn't meet her gaze. "We got…side tracked."

  Her breath leaving her in one wild rush, Savanna felt relief flood through her whole body.

  Daniel shifted his weight. "So you see, I'm staying in Fulton, after all. My mind is made up. My decision isn't changing. No matter what."

  His gaze took on that same unreadable quality she'd come to know so well since returning to town.

  "But whether you stay, or whether you go... that's entirely up to you." His mouth turned up in a dismal grin. "I learned a long time ago that it's wise to let you make up your own mind about those things."

  Savanna knew he wasn't making fun of her, he was simply stating a fact, a hard-learned lesson that had caused him a great deal of heartache.

  "You know, now that I think about it, maybe we should go back inside." He indicated the hospital with a jerk of his head "Let's clear up this rumor about my leaving town."

  As they walked back toward the big glass entry doors in silence, Savanna was acutely aware that Daniel kept a wide margin of space between them.

  Chapter Ten

  Savanna's emotions had been flip-flopping for days. She didn't know where she stood. Out in the middle of that dark parking lot nearly two weeks ago, had Daniel been suggesting she stay in Fulton? Or go?

  Closing her eyes, she could conjure the sound of his voice, the gentle but firm manner in which he'd assured her that he was staying in town whether she moved back to Fulton or not. But she hadn't been able to decide if his reassurance had been out of some tender feeling he had for her, or if he'd just been kind because he was confronted by a crying female.

  And what about their night of love-making? Did he regret it? At first, she'd been sure he had. But after having days and days to think about it, what if he was merely confounded by the whole thing? What if he didn't know what to feel, or what to say, or how to act? One fact remained certain; she was completely perplexed by the passionate encounter. How could he feel any different? They needed to talk.

  She'd have loved nothing more than to do just that, but the opportunity had never presented itself. The gala dinner had been the sole focus of her attention since the last board meeting. It had begun with a couple of minor snags that she'd have normally described as irritating. However, then the catering company had contacted her with a necessary menu change. The problems snowballed until she was spending every waking moment redirecting, rethinking, and reorganizing. The fact that her reputation rested on the success of this fund-raiser never left her mind for a moment.

  Sitting on the edge of her bed, she leaned forward and tucked her toes into the foot of the black stocking. She gently pulled the gossamer fabric up her leg and fastened it with garter hooks. For important evenings, Savanna always chose stockings over panty hose or even bare legs. The silky sexiness of them were an extravagance that made her feel wonderful, and the lacy garter belt only added to her self-confidence, which was just the thing she needed for a night like tonight.

  The much-awaited gala dinner to benefit Fulton General Hospital was less than two hours off. She had been at the country club all day completing a myriad of last-minute tasks, and now, as she thought over the past few weeks, she realized that she'd ended up working harder on this event than she had on any other fund-raising campaign she'd organized.

  Savanna slipped on the other silk stocking. After her confrontation with Daniel, she'd felt as though she might drown as she had become engulfed by plans for the dinner. She'd designated who would be in charge of the setting up, decorating, food, entertainment, door prizes, cleaning up and a long tally of other particulars. She had compiled a list of detailed instructions for each volunteer, had personally taken each person to the country club so they could go over their responsibilities, step by painstaking step. Yes, Savanna had spent w
hat felt like hundreds of hours planning this dinner to perfection.

  But every night as she'd crawled, bone weary, between her cool, cotton sheets, Daniel's face would loom in her thoughts and she'd wonder where he was, what he was doing. On the two occasions when she had run into him since the board meeting, he'd pressed her about the details and how things were going until she'd become miffed. Of course, she knew he didn't want her to fail, but it was pretty clear that he wouldn't be all that surprised if she did. And that hurt. However, both times they'd crossed paths, he had looked at her with an intensity that had sent shivers coursing through her.

  As she stepped into her red sequined party dress, she realized that was what was throwing her off. That heated, thoughtful expression in Daniel's eyes. It was keeping her guessing about everything, churning up questions that refused to die.

  Did he expect her to leave Fulton after the dinner as she had promised that night in the parking lot? Or was that powerful gaze a silent plea for her to stay? Was he slowly coming to realize that she was devoted to completing her promise of helping Fulton General? Or was merely seeing her a continuing agony for him, an agony of haunting memories of her running away so long ago?

  Damn it! She hated that her mind was spinning like this.

  The question about their date for tonight had been answered by a quick phone call from him just yesterday morning. As Savanna zipped up her fitted evening dress, she replayed the conversation in her head.

  "So, you're still in town," he'd remarked after she'd picked up the receiver.

  "Looks like I am," she'd said, confused by the myriad underlying meanings his quip might have held.

  He'd hesitated then. "I'm calling to see if we're still on for tomorrow evening."

  "I'm game if you are," she'd told him.

  She would have liked nothing better than to hear him say he'd been all wrong about her lack of stick-to-it-iveness, but that hadn't happened. In fact, there hadn't been much more to their exchange before he'd suggested an agreed upon time for him to swing by for her.

  So here she was, dolling herself up, feeling smug that, in fulfilling her promise to Daniel, a promise he probably saw as a threat of some sort, to stick around until the dinner was a complete success, she'd somehow proved something. She adjusted the thin strap of her dress and shook her head. How could she feel such love for a man who had so little faith in her? Heaven only knew, but love him she did. With all her heart. Just what she was going to do about that fact was totally beyond her.

  Rolling her hair into a neat French twist, she tucked in the ends and secured them with pins. The earrings she wore reflected the light in bright sparkles with each tilt of her head. Finally, she slipped her feet into cherry-red stilettos. The night promised to be clear and hot, much too warm for a wrap. Savanna picked up her handbag and went downstairs to wait for Daniel.

  At the bottom step, she heard a small, muffled knock. She followed the sound into the kitchen and pulled open the back door.

  "Hi, Jimmy," she said, pushing open the screen. One look at his face had her asking, "What's wrong?"

  His gray eyes were huge. "Will you come?"

  Savanna bent and looked him in the eye. "What is it, honey?"

  "It's Mom. She's got a belly ache."

  His face was pale and his bottom lip threatened to tremble.

  "Let's go," she said.

  Jimmy darted through the green shrubbery hedge that separated her house from the Thompsons'. Savanna cursed her high heels and sequins and hurried around the bushes.

  "Sheila?" she called, stepping into the kitchen.

  "In here."

  Savanna hurried through the dining room where she stumbled upon Amanda. The toddler was naked, except for a fluffy towel, her hair wringing wet. She was quietly singing, "Takin' a baff, it's baff time."

  Swooping Amanda up into her arms, Savanna said, "Mmmm. You smell so clean. Where's Mommy, Amanda?"

  The little girl wriggled out of her embrace and pointed toward the living room.

  "Miss Savanna!" Jimmy called, his voice strained.

  Sheila was reclining on the couch, breathing deeply, eyes closed, her face shining with a thin sheen of perspiration. She was clearly in the middle of a strong contraction.

  "Where's your dad?" Savanna asked Jimmy.

  "He already left."

  "For the country club?"

  Jimmy nodded. "He's givin' a 'portant speech."

  "I know," she said softly. She couldn't help smiling at the pride in the little boy's voice.

  "Sheila, how long have you been having pains?" she asked, dipping into her purse for her cell phone.

  A small gasp escaped from Sheila's lips and she exhaled loudly. "Don't you dare call Jim. I told him to go to the dinner without me," Sheila said. "I haven't been feeling well all day. But I'll be all right."

  "I'm not calling Jim. I'm calling an ambulance. The baby's coming, Sheila."

  Sheila reached over and touched her son's arm. "Honey, go check on Amanda for me, would you?" Once her son was out of earshot, she firmly said, "No ambulance. It'll scare the kids. Besides it's too early for me to be having this baby. It's a false alarm. Braxton Hicks contractions, they're called. My body's practicing. It's nothing. I told Jimmy he shouldn't bother you, but he wouldn't listen, the little rascal."

  Savanna flipped her phone closed, but couldn't help voicing the concern she felt. "Are you sure? I don't mind taking you."

  "No, no," Sheila insisted. "You have a dinner to run tonight. There's no way I'd keep you from the gala. You've worked too hard for this."

  Just then she was struck with another wave of pain intense enough to cut her off in mid-sentence. She closed her eyes and concentrated on taking deep, relaxing breaths.

  The seconds ticked away anxiously and Savanna's panicky thoughts raced. "Sheila, please..."

  Sheila exhaled and looked up at Savanna, a line of beaded sweat across her top lip. "Something's wrong," Sheila said weakly. "The contractions shouldn't be this strong or this close together. "

  Savanna jumped to action. "Jimmy," she called out, "bring Amanda here." To Sheila, she said "I'll get her dressed. You're sure you don't want an ambulance?"

  Sheila nodded, and murmured, "The kids will be scared. But if you could take me to the hospital…you wouldn't have to stay. There's an overnight bag in my room at the foot of the bed."

  "I'll call the country club," Savanna said, mentally ticking off tasks, "and tell Jim to meet us at the hospital."

  A frown bit deep into Sheila's brow. "He's going to be so disappointed. He's been looking forward to tonight. What if this is nothing?"

  But Sheila looked like she no longer believed that to be the case.

  "He'd be more disappointed," Savanna said, helping Sheila out of the chair, "to miss the birth of this baby." Then she shouted, "Jimmy! Bring Amanda here."

  "Is this who you're looking for?"

  At the sound of Daniel's voice, Savanna swung around and saw him in the doorway with a filthy, squirming Amanda in his arms.

  Daniel grinned. "I found this little nudist playing in the flower beds out front."

  Jimmy trailed in behind Daniel. "'Manda wouldn't listen to me, Mom."

  "Oh, Daniel," Sheila exclaimed. "You're going to get your tux dirty. Put her down."

  Savanna thought no man ever looked so good. The cut of the dark dinner jacket hugged his broad chest. The crisp white shirt accentuated his tanned complexion. She tried to tamp down the embers of desire that sparked to life within her. She had too many other things to think about right now, but, Lord, he did look hot.

  Daniel focused on her, his brown eyes intent. "What's going on?" he asked.

  Savanna tilted her head toward Sheila. "We're having a baby."

  "We can't possibly take Amanda to the hospital looking like that," Sheila lamented.

  "Can you help me out here, Daniel?" Savanna's tone was pleading.

  "Sure," he said. "I'll do anything."

  "You take Sheila t
o the hospital. I'll call Jim to meet you there." Savanna took Amanda from him. "And I'll stay with the kids."

  "But your dinner," Sheila said. "They'll need you."

  "I've planned everything perfectly," she assured her friend. "I made sure the dinner would go off without a hitch. With or without me."

  "You did, huh?"

  Daniel's pointed question rubbed her wrong.

  "Don't be a snot. It wasn't because I planned on leaving. It was because in my years of putting these functions together, I've learned to expect the unexpected."

  "Well, this is as unexpected as it gets." Sheila groaned, wobbling toward the front door. "We have to go. Now."

  Savanna shifted Amanda to her other hip. "Jimmy, go get your mom's overnight bag." To Daniel, she said, "I am a little worried about Jim's speech, though."

  His dark eyes twinkled as he suggested, "Miz Ida would love to have a captive audience."

  "Hmm. Good idea," Savanna said. "I'll tell Jim to give his speech to Ida. With a few adjustments..." her voice trailed as she pulled out her phone.

  By the time she'd finished her short conversations, first with Jim, then with Ida, and wrapped the towel around Amanda, she found Daniel outside helping Sheila into the car.

  "Buckle up." He slid the seat belt out as far as it would go and handed the metal buckle to Sheila.

  Jimmy ran to the car. "Here's the bag."

  "Jimmy snot," Amanda said on a giggle.

  The slur had the boy grimacing. "Mom!"

  "Amanda!" Sheila scolded.

  Savanna's mouth twisted with chagrin. "Sorry. That was my fault."

  Daniel took the suitcase from Jimmy and pushed it into the back seat. He rounded the car and opened the door, marveling that Savanna didn't seem flustered by this unexpected turn of events.

  "Jim's on his way," Savanna said. "And Ida's in control."

  He watched her lean through the open passenger window and kiss Sheila on the cheek.

  "Good luck," she told her friend. "And don't worry about the kids. They'll be fine."

  Daniel wanted to tell her he was sorry that she was missing the dinner she'd worked so hard to put together, but the words snagged in his throat like a fish hook.