Higher Than Eagles (Donovans of the Delta)

by Peggy Webb

  The excited, little-boy voice carried clearly across to Jacob. They were going to Disney World. Without him. From now on, everything they did would be without him. The knowledge made him unutterably sad.

  As he watched, Rachel bent down and spoke to Benjy, hugging him against her chest. Then she stood and looked toward his cabin, her hand over her heart. He was too far away to see her eyes, too distant to know whether they were bright with tears, but there was something forlorn about the way she stood.

  “Goodbye, my love,” he whispered. “May the wind be beneath your wings.”

  As if she had heard him, she straightened her shoulders, tilted her chin at a proud angle, and helped her family into the car. Then they drove off to see Magic Mountain.

  There would be no magic for him, Jacob thought as he flung his duffel bag into the jeep, only mountains, and each one steeper and more difficult to climb than the last.

  o0o

  Rachel stayed three more days in Florida. With each passing day, her love for Jacob grew. From the moment he’d sought her out in Biloxi, she’d slowly been coming under his spell. One by one, he’d battered down the barriers she’d erected between them. In his bed, the final barrier had come tumbling down.

  His absence served to verify her love. She felt empty without him, lost, restless.

  She padded barefoot through the house, softly so as not to wake Benjy from his afternoon nap. “Vashti,” she called, “where are you?”

  “Out here.” Vashti was sitting on the front porch, bent over a piece of needlepoint. She looked up when Rachel came out. “I thought there might be a breeze stirring, but I was wrong. I don’t know how that child can sleep in this heat.”

  “He’s young. Children are very adaptable.”

  “And very wise. The way he took to Jacob . . . my, my. We need never worry about that boy. He can spot character a mile away.”

  “Vashti—”

  Vashti continued, as if she’d never heard Rachel’s interruption. “Furthermore, I think Jacob would have stayed if you’d just said the word. Did you see how reluctant he was to leave us? There was something suspiciously like tears in his eyes when he hugged that little boy goodbye. Why, I thought—”

  “Vashti!”

  Rachel’s tone of voice made the old woman look up. Rachel gave her a gentle smile.

  “You need not expend your energy promoting Jacob’s case. I love him.”

  “You what?”

  “If I ever stopped loving him at all—and I’m not sure I did, even though Bob was a good man and a good husband—I fell in love with him all over again when he came back to Biloxi.”

  “Nobody is denying Bob’s goodness. Lord knows, he did what few men would have done.” Vashti, seeing Rachel’s eyes widen in shock, hastened to remedy her mistake. “Marrying a woman who obviously loved another man was an uncommon act of bravery.”

  Rachel calmed herself. There was no reason for Vashti to know the truth. No way she could know. Rachel and Bob had left Greenville soon after the marriage. Vashti, like everybody else, had accepted the story of Benjy’s premature birth.

  “You’re right, Vashti. Bob was uncommonly brave. And he was a good father. For that, I’ll always be grateful.”

  Vashti studied Rachel, opened her mouth to say something, then clamped it shut again. Picking up her needlework, she began to stitch, fast and furiously.

  The reticence was so unlike her that Rachel laughed. “Does somebody’s life depend on that needlework, Vashti?”

  “What?” Vashti’s head jerked up.

  “Why don’t you stop stitching and say what’s on your mind? I’m afraid holding it all back will give you ulcers.”

  “What’s on my mind is how come Bob got into this conversation. You told me you love Jacob, but you didn’t say what you were going to do about it.”

  “I guess I was hoping for a little advice.”

  Vashti didn’t try to hide her pleasure. She literally beamed.

  “From me? You want love advice from me?”

  “Who better than you? You have more love in your heart than any person I know. How else could you have sacrificed your own life to raise somebody else’s children?”

  “Raising you was not a sacrifice, Rachel; it was redemption.” Vashti set aside her needlework and leaned back in her chair. “I’m going to tell you a story. . . . I was thirteen when my mother died. Dad took my older brother, explaining to me that boys are easier to handle, and left me in the care of my grandmother. She was in bad health, even then. By the time I was twenty, I was taking care of her.”

  Vashti studied the water with a faraway look. Then she continued her story.

  “It took all my strength and energy to make a living and watch after Grandma. At least, that’s what I thought at the time. When she died, I was forty-two, without much prospects for the future. While I was caring for the sick, life had passed me by.”

  Rachel could only imagine how Vashti must have felt. She waited, quietly, while Vashti gathered her thoughts.

  “I had no skills except housekeeping and not much education. When I saw Martin Windham’s ad in the paper, I felt that fate had smiled on me. The ad had said he wanted a housekeeper, and I was certainly an expert at that. It was not until I came to work my first day that I found out about you. When I saw you peeking around the doorway at me, those big eyes bright with curiosity and that shy smile on your lips, I knew there was a God after all.”

  “My father didn’t even mention me when he hired you?”

  “No. He was afraid I wouldn’t take the job.”

  “He viewed me as a burden.”

  “No, no. It wasn’t that. He was a harried, depressed man. His wife was dead and he simply didn’t know what to do. Many people are like that, Rachel. They don’t know what to do in a particular situation, so they do nothing.”

  “Thank you, Vashti, for defending my father and for reminding me that I should do something.”

  Vashti smiled. “You always were a bright girl.” She stood up. “I’d better get packing.”

  Rachel laughed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  Vashti gave her a shrewd look. “Unless I miss my guess, we’re headed toward Greenville. Seems to me there are a few things you need to tell Jacob Donovan —starting with ‘I love you.’”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to tell Jacob Donovan I love him.” She felt lighthearted and free for all of two minutes, then her face clouded over. There was something else she had to tell him, too.

  o0o

  Jacob knew Rachel was in Greenville two hours after she had arrived. The grapevine was very efficient in a small southern town.

  He told himself she was there to visit her father. It was only logical. He told himself her presence in town meant nothing to him. It was a lie.

  The minute he saw her, standing in the doorway of the country club, dressed in black, pearls gleaming on her honey-hued skin, he knew he’d been playing mind games with himself. How could she mean nothing to him when merely seeing her made wildfires go rampaging through his body? How could she mean nothing to him when he felt the urge to kill every man who looked at her?

  As she glided between the tables, holding her father’s arm and smiling like the celebrity she was, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d fallen in love with Rachel all over again. He groaned. God help them all.

  “Did you say something, Jacob?”

  He looked across the table at his sister, Hannah Donovan Roman. Her blue eyes were serene, her dark gypsy hair caught high on her head with a pink ribbon, and her lithe body swathed in a loose-fitting pearly pink dress. She carried her pregnancy well.

  “No. I was just commenting on the weather. It’s hot.”

  Hannah tipped back her head and roared with uninhibited delight. “Jacob, you sweet old pretender. You needn’t try to fool me. I saw Rachel come through the door.”

  “No doubt she’s visiting her father.”

  “Are
you asking for a confirmation, Jacob?”

  “No, that was merely a comment. It’s called conversation, Hannah. You and Jim and little Marianne spend so much time in Alaska, you’ve forgotten what polite conversation is.”

  Smiling. Hannah leaned back in her chair. “The last time I saw anything as testy as you, I was dealing with a lovesick moose. He thought his lady love was near our cabin, and he uprooted every flower I had before I could convince him to behave.”

  “And how did you do that?”

  “With the business end of a gun, of course. Now he has to wear winter woolens to keep the cold from seeping through the holes in his rump.”

  Jacob laughed, feeling good. Hannah always made him feel good. “You’ll never change, Hannah.”

  “Jim says he sincerely hopes not.”

  “And how is the intrepid reporter?”

  “Holed up, working fast and furiously on his second novel, and absolutely dotty thinking about being a father again. From the way he acts, you’d think he invented fatherhood.”

  Jacob’s glance swung to Rachel. She was leaning toward her father, laughing at something he’d said. Her musical laughter carried across the room.

  “Go to her, Jacob.”

  His head snapped back around toward his sister. “What?”

  “I said, go to her.” Hannah folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. “I’ve finished eating anyway, and I feel the need for an after-dinner nap. I’ll take a cab back to the farmhouse.”

  “You will not. I brought you here, and I’ll see you safely home.”

  “Indulge a pregnant woman, Jacob. If my overly protective husband can trust me to get myself and our daughter safely across the continent for a small visit home, surely you can trust me to take a seven-mile cab ride.”

  She saw that he was wavering, so she went in for the kill. “She’s free now, Jacob, and so are you. You might take a lesson from our brother. Tanner would never have found happiness if he hadn’t let go of the past.” She placed her hand on his arm. “Let it go, Jacob. I want you to be happy.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you a cab, Hannah.”

  o0o

  Rachel watched Jacob escort his sister from the dining room. Disappointment rippled sharply through her.

  “I’m glad he’s leaving.”

  She glanced quickly at her father. “Who?”

  “Jacob Donovan. You’ve done nothing but stare at him all evening.”

  “Dad . . .” She put her hand on his arm. “Please don’t start.”

  “You know how I feel about him. And this latest plan of yours is suicide. I’d absolutely forbid it if I could.”

  “You can’t. He has to know.”

  “He hasn’t had to know for years. I see no reason to change that now.”

  “The reason is that I love him.” She lifted her chin in defiance. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but none as tragic as what I did to Jacob Donovan. He deserves the truth, even if it means I’ll lose him again.”

  “Is there anything I can say, anything I can do to change your mind?”

  “No. I’m going to tell Jacob.” She leaned back in her chair, her face as stubborn as her father’s.

  “Tell me what?”

  Jacob’s voice, deep and rich and deceptively mild, cut through her consciousness like a steel-edged rapier. Looking up at him, she called on all her professional skills to look serene and happy.

  “I was going to tell you that Hannah looks particularly glowing.”

  Jacob tried to hide his grin over Rachel’s bald-faced lie. He’d always admired the way she handled herself when cornered.

  “Why, thank you,” he said with elaborate politeness.

  Tearing his gaze away from her flushed and glorious face, he inclined his head toward her father. “Martin. Mind if I join you?” He slid smoothly into the chair beside Rachel, deliberately pulling it close enough so that his thigh touched hers under the table.

  Martin didn’t try to hide his displeasure. “We thought you were leaving.”

  “No. There’s something I have to do, first.” With his leg insistently pressing Rachel’s, he leaned back nonchalantly. “When I saw the two of you sitting here, I thought I’d do the neighborly thing and invite you for a ride.” A smile tugged at Rachel’s lips, and Martin’s eyebrows shot up. “An airplane ride,” Jacob added smoothly. “It’s a beautiful night for flying.”

  “You must be mad.” Martin Windham flung his napkin on the table and stood up. His hostile attitude would have quelled a lesser man. “The only place I’m going is home with Rachel.”

  Jacob Donovan, who thrived on challenge, was unperturbed by Martin.

  “I’m sorry you don’t want to join us.”

  His emphasis on us was not missed by the older man.

  Martin glanced toward his daughter, his eyes warning her not to do this foolish thing Jacob Donovan was asking of her, demanding of her.

  “I’m going, Dad.”

  To Martin’s credit, he didn’t protest any further. He knew when he’d been beaten. Pressing his hand tightly on Rachel’s shoulder, he leaned down and whispered, “Think carefully before you destroy what you have.”

  Giving Jacob a curt nod of dismissal, he stalked from the dining room.

  Rachel’s mind and body were both in turmoil, but she covered it with a smile.

  “I’ve missed your smile more than you can imagine.” Jacob leaned toward her and lifted her hand to his lips. “Thank you for saying yes.”

  “If I had said no, would you have abducted me again?”

  “It’s a temptation, even now.”

  Her face flushed, she leaned back in her chair, trying to put a comfortable distance between them. In spite of her avowals to confess her love and to tell Jacob the truth, she was afraid. The way she handled telling him would make or break her future.

  “But I’ve already said yes,” she added lightly, playing for time.

  “The thought of having you slung over my shoulder, at my mercy, has great appeal. I have a sudden desire to make your body burn for me.”

  When he smiled, he was the charming, wicked Irishman she’d fallen in love with so many years ago. She took courage from his smile.

  “The last time I was at your mercy, Jacob, it was you who went up in flames.”

  The bright flush on her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes told him what he wanted to know, what he’d wondered ever since he’d left that remote cabin on the edge of Lake George. Rachel had not left his bed unscathed. He took hope.

  Rising smoothly, he pulled back her chair. When she stood up, he caught her around the waist and pressed her back against him. He heard her sharp intake of breath.

  Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “Tonight, my sweet, we’ll see who burns first.” Then, taking her arm and smiling gallantly, as if he had been talking to her about the weather, he sauntered from the dining room.

  His car was waiting outside, a fiery red Corvette. Jacob loved fast cars as well as fast planes. Rachel leaned her head against the leather seat, grateful that Jacob hadn’t attempted further intimacies. She hadn’t expected to see him tonight, and she needed more time to figure the best approach.

  Saying I love you to the man she had jilted years before was not going to be easy. Telling him the truth about his son was going to be even harder. If she told of her love first, would he later accuse of her lying to soften the blow? And if she told him about Benjy first, he probably wouldn’t even be around to hear the rest. She sighed.

  “Is something troubling you, Rachel?” Steering easily with his left hand, Jacob reached across the seat and caressed her shoulder.

  “You’ve always been sensitive to my moods, haven’t you, Jacob?”

  His smile was carefree and easy. “It’s the Irish in me.”

  “No. I think it’s the tenderness in you.”

  “Do you find me tender, my sweet?”

  “Always. Even when you’re striving to b
e a pain in the neck.”

  His roar of laughter was her reward. Hearing that great boom of mirth, she relaxed against the seat. Jacob Donovan was not a hard man like her father. She had to believe everything was going to be all right.

  A comfortable silence descended as the car raced through the warm night. She didn’t ask where they were going, and he didn’t say. He’d said they would be flying, but knowing Jacob Donovan, that could mean anything. Once he’d told her he was taking her to paradise, and they’d spent all afternoon in bed. She’d thought paradise was the name of one of the out-of-the-way cafés he loved so well.

  When they turned underneath the sign that said “Donovan and Company” she turned to him. “Your fire-fighting company?”

  “Yes.” He drove past a neat concrete and glass office toward a group of hangars. “You trust me, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I’ve never stopped trusting you, Jacob.”

  He shot her a quizzical look.

  “Never once,” she added. “Not in all the years I’ve known you have I ever found you unworthy of my trust. That was never a problem between us.”

  He smiled. “That’s a nice place to start.”

  He cut the engine and leaned across the seat. Gliding his fingers into her gleaming hair, he cupped her face.

  “Tonight is an impulse, Rachel. I had no idea you were coming to Greenville.”

  “Neither did I.”

  They looked deep into each other’s eyes. Jacob leaned closer until their lips were almost touching. But he knew that if he started kissing her now, he would never stop. And as much as he wanted to make love to her, he wanted more to say what was on his mind

  Still holding her face, he said, “When I heard you were in town, I told myself I didn’t care.”

  “Did it work?” she whispered.

  “No.”

  “It never has for me either.”

  His lips brushed her forehead. “You’ve told yourself you didn’t care?”

  “For years.”

  He laid his cheek against her hair. They were silent while the night sounds beat around them—the distant sounds of traffic on the highway, the singing of crickets in the bushes, the whining of the ever present mosquitoes in the sultry delta.

  Rachel broke the silence. “Finally, it didn’t work anymore, Jacob. After you left Florida, I knew I had to come to you.”