Donovan's Child

by Christine Rimmer

  But still. He was standing. How wonderful.

  If only she didn’t want to kill him, she would be so proud of him.

  He continued to lean there, against the side of the van, as if he had all the time in the world to stand there and stare at her through the windshield of her car.

  She couldn’t read his expression. He only looked at her. What was going through that frustrating mind of his? She shouldn’t even want to know.

  But there was no point in lying to herself. She did want to know. She needed to know. As much as she needed to draw her next breath.

  And speaking of her breath…

  It had clogged in her throat. Slowly, with care, she let it out. And then breathed in again, a conscious action. And out. And in.

  Great. She was making real progress here. She could breathe again.

  And her heart was still beating much too fast, but at least it had slowed down a little bit. It had stopped galloping along like a spooked horse. She felt almost certain her legs would hold her up now if she tried to stand on them.

  So she pushed open her door, swung her feet to the ground and got out of the car. “Donna Rae,” she said flatly. “A single mom, huh? A single mom with three kids—and a plan to adopt a fourth. A family lawyer, with three big dogs? Don’t try and tell me Javier dreamed all that up.”

  He straightened, so his legs took his full weight. “Don’t blame Javier. It was me. All me.”

  Down a slope of land, she could hear water rushing over rocks—a creek. She could see it, gleaming there, beneath the trees. And that craggy peak Javier had mentioned—yes, she saw it, too. Right where it should be, off in the middle distance, perfect for framing in a kitchen window.

  She made herself look at Donovan. And she ached to go to him.

  No way.

  She broadened her stance a fraction, settling herself in place, and folded her hands protectively over her middle. “Oh, I’m killing Javier, too. Just as soon as I finish with you.”

  He put up both hands, palms out. Surrender. “I only…I didn’t know if you would speak to me.”

  “How about a phone call? That’s always a viable way to start.”

  “I was afraid you would hang up.”

  “I probably would have. Then you could have called again. And again. That would have been satisfying.”

  He took one step. And another. She watched in wonder. And in fierce, injured fury, as well. “I knew I had really screwed up with you. Screwed up so bad.”

  “No argument there.”

  “I knew that just telling you I love you, confessing that I was wrong, that all I wanted was another chance…” He took that last step. He was two feet away from her. The clean scent of him taunted her. And he was tanner than before. His hair gleamed, pure gold, in the spring sunlight. And her arms ached to reach for him. Her throat ached to speak her love.

  And her heart ached most of all.

  She only wanted to grab him, to pull him to her, to hold him fast and never, ever let him go.

  She kept her arms around herself instead. And she taunted him, “So you cooked up some big lie and got Javier to help you with it.”

  His strong jaw twitched. And he shifted, wincing. Evidently it still wasn’t that easy for him to get around on his damaged legs. “Okay, it was a stupid idea. I should have just called you, I see that now. But I wanted…I needed for you to know that I’m not here just to talk. That I want you so much. I love you…so much.”

  “Love?” She could choke on that word. “You have no right. No right at all, to talk to me about love.”

  “I know. I get it. I do. I was a complete fool to have let you go. And so I thought that maybe, if you saw that I wanted to hire Javier to build your house, you would listen to me. You would believe that I’ve actually come to my senses. You would listen to me when I say that what I really want, more than anything, is to be the man who lives in that house with you…”

  The tears rose, clogging her throat all over again. She willed them away. But they wouldn’t go. They spilled over and slid down her face.

  She swiped them away, furious that they wouldn’t stop.

  “Abilene.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Come on. Don’t cry.” He started to reach for her.

  She jerked back. “Don’t you dare. You just keep those hands of yours to yourself.”

  He obeyed, even moved back a step and let his arms fall to his sides. “It’s been…really bad. Without you.”

  Triumph surged within her. She knew it was petty, to feel glad that he had been suffering, too. But she did feel glad.

  God help her. She did.

  A sob escaped her. She swallowed it down, swiped at the tears again. “I thought it was what you wanted, to be without me. You said it was what you wanted. You said love was not an option, that you were no good when it came to forever.”

  “I was an idiot.”

  She almost laughed. But somehow, it came out as another sob. “Yeah. Yeah, you were. You definitely were.” She put her hands to her cheeks, rubbed more of the wetness away.

  His eyes were so tender, so full of regret. “I hate that I hurt you. I…didn’t realize…” The sentence trailed off. He looked away, off toward the sloping of the land and the gleam of the creek.

  She sniffed. “What, Donovan? You didn’t realize, what?”

  And he turned to her again. “I didn’t realize that after you, after what we had together, there was no way I could go back to hiding in the desert. Back to the silence and the pain and the guilt over Elias. I don’t think I’m ever going to be capable of forgiving myself for not protecting him, for not taking better care of him. But I am learning that I need to move on.”

  She felt her fury leaving her. She couldn’t hold on to it. Her anger was nothing when measured against the love that still lived in her heart. And the tenderness in his eyes.

  He said, “I finally get it. I do. It’s what you tried so hard to get me to see. That I didn’t die, after all. That I owe it to Elias’s memory, to pick up the pieces, to do whatever I can to make the world a better place for all the children.”

  Her mouth trembled. She caught her lower lip between her teeth to still it. “I heard…that you were working again. I was glad for that. Truly.”

  He nodded. “My old literary agent called, offered me a new book contract. She wanted me to write the story of how I came back from near-death on Dhaulagiri One.”

  “And?”

  His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I passed on that. Maybe someday. But not now. Not so soon.”

  “Ruth told me, about the theater complex in Century City.”

  “Yeah. It’s a complex that will include a children’s theater and a place for kids to come to practice stagecraft, to get their first chance onstage. And after that, I’ll be designing a preschool in Portland, Oregon.”

  “That’s good,” she said. “I’m really happy for you.”

  And then he said it again. “I love you, Abilene.”

  She only looked at him. Stricken. Yearning. Wanting to say she loved him, too. Wanting that with all her heart. And yet… “You hurt me. You hurt me so bad….”

  His gaze didn’t waver. “I know it. That I hurt you. That I don’t deserve you. I know that I’ve given you a lot more grief than happiness in the time we had together. But please. Just consider coming back to me. Just think about it. If you give me one more chance, I swear to you, I won’t blow it this time. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I can be the man you always hoped I could be.”

  She turned away from him, unable, somehow, to look in his eyes at that moment. She made herself ask him, “And the children, Donovan? What about the children? What about our children? Because I’ve had time to think about it, too, about what I want, about what I don’t want to live without. And you were right about that, if nothing else. I do want children. I want them a lot.”

  He did touch her then. He took that one step closer and he put his warm hands on her shoulders. Sh
e felt his breath stir her hair and she trembled.

  “I know that,” he said. “I always knew.”

  She stared off toward the craggy peak. It shone silvery in the sunlight. “And?”

  He dared to move in closer still, to clasp her shoulders more firmly. She felt his touch to the core of her and she sighed. He bent close. His lips brushed her temple, burning.

  And he whispered, “I’m willing.”

  She gasped, whirled to face him once more, searched his eyes, wanting, needing, to know the truth. “You mean that? You’re willing to be a father…again?”

  He gave one slow nod of that golden head. “I know I’ll be overprotective. And the whole idea of having more kids scares the hell out of me. It’s not as if I’ll ever be that fast on my feet, you know? And children, they need a dad who’s fast on his feet.”

  Her tears spilled over again. She gave up fighting them. Unashamed, she let them trail down her face. “Children need a dad who loves them. That’s what they really need.”

  He touched her cheek, smeared her tear tracks with his thumb. “Say yes,” he whispered prayerfully.

  She couldn’t. Not yet. But she did say, “If we had children, I would be there, right beside you, whenever you needed me. And it doesn’t hurt a child to learn to be a little self-sufficient. If you love them enough, if you teach them well, I don’t even know that you have to be that fast on your feet.”

  He studied her upturned face, hungrily. Tenderly. “I love you, Abilene. You gave me back my work. You gave me everything. You made me hope again. You made me live again. And these last rotten weeks, without you…well, I see it now. I get it. You’re what makes it all complete. And I swear I would get down on my knees to you, right now, here, in the dirt. If I only thought I had a prayer of getting back up again.”

  A torn laugh escaped her. “Oh, Donovan.”

  “Please. Say it. Tell me it’s not too late.”

  She lifted on tiptoe, put her hands against his chest, felt his strength and his warmth and the beating of his heart. “You have to be sure. Absolutely sure.”

  “I am. Say yes.”

  She hesitated on the brink. “I didn’t want to keep loving you….”

  “Say yes.”

  She smiled through her tears. “But I did. I do. It’s you, Donovan. Only you.”

  “Abilene. Thank God.” He gathered her close, lowered his mouth to hers.

  The kiss they shared held everything: their love, their sworn commitment, each to the other—and more. That kiss held the promise of the future they would share, including the house they would build on that very spot, with the craggy peak out the kitchen window, the field of bluebonnets and the clear, cool creek down the slope in back.

  Their children would grow strong and tall there. And it seemed to her that the bold, brave spirit of the lost Elias would be with them always, too.

  When he lifted his head, he said, “Marry me.”

  She gave him the answer her heart had been holding, just for him. “Yes.”

  He took her hand. “Come on. Let me show you how I picture it—your house.”

  “Our house,” she reminded him.

  “Yeah. That sounds good. That sounds right. Our house. Let me show you….”

  “I can see it already.” She beamed up at him. “But show me, anyway.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8475-7

  DONOVAN’S CHILD

  Copyright © 2011 by Christine Rimmer

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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