Return of the Runaway Bride (6 page)

"Fine," she
answered,
her voice dry and grating.
"And yourself?"

"I've survived."

"Did you marry?" As soon as the question passed her lips she felt the urge to bite off her tongue. She was mortified. What had compelled her to delve so intimately into his personal life?
Because you're dying to
know
,
came the simple answer.

"No."

His curt response offered no explanation and she didn't have the guts to pursue the subject further.

"I was expecting your father," she said in a rush. The shadow that crossed his face at the mention of Daniel didn't register, so intent was she to get away from the topic of marriage. She didn't want to have to admit to Danny the lonely state of her own personal life.

"When Mrs. Hutchinson called to say that Daniel was coming to welcome me back to Fulton," she continued, "I was so pleased that I'd get the chance to catch up on all the news of your family. I haven't heard a thing in all these years and I couldn't wait to talk to him."

"The folks in town call me Daniel now." His harsh tone stopped her monologue like a speeding car slamming into a brick wall.

Emotions flashed across his face so quickly that Savanna couldn't read them fast enough. Pain, sadness, irritation, until at last his features were once again so controlled she couldn't discern what he was feeling.

"They do?" Her voice was faint as she asked the question because, once again, she couldn't fathom what she'd said to prompt that look back to his face.

He shifted his weight and plunged one hand deep into his trouser pocket as he nodded. "From the first day I took over Dad's practice, everyone in town insisted on calling me Daniel."

"So Mrs. Hutchinson was talking about you," Savanna said. In that instant she remembered
Miz
Ida had also said Daniel. Savanna suspected the lovable old snoop had been asking if Savanna had seen Danny, not his father.

"Daniel." She tried out the name. "I don't know that I'll remember, but I promise to give it my best shot."

Her mind quickly assembled the information he'd given her and she asked, "You're here for the Fulton Welcoming Committee?"

He nodded solemnly. "I guess you could say I've taken over for my father in more ways than one."

"Your dad's retired, then?" She shook her head, smiling. "I never thought the day would come when he'd give up his law practice."

"No."

The tension in his voice as he said that single word made the smile fade from her lips. A dreadful feeling began to churn in her stomach as she stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

When he spoke his voice was feather soft. "You really don't know, do you?"

His question was all it took. Tears gathered in her eyes as she realized that Daniel Walsh wasn't sharing a law office with his
son, that
he hadn't retired to some hot, southern climate as her own parents had done. The deep sadness in Daniel's eyes told her clearly that his father had passed away and the news literally shook her.

"I'm so sorry." She wanted to say more, but her voice cracked like old glass.

Daniel pried her fingers from the chair and, pulling it out from under the table, guided her to sit down. She didn't fight him; she didn't even argue.

He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. His palms felt warm against her icy fingers. She tried to focus on his thumb as it slowly passed over the peaks and valleys of the knuckles of her right hand.

She needed to get control of herself so that she could tell him how much she'd loved his father.

A new thought brought a wave of fresh panic and she lifted her face to look at Danny. "Your mother?" she asked.

"She's fine," he assured her. "She's moved to Richmond to be with my sister."

Savanna exhaled audibly, relief bringing a small smile to her lips. Then she pulled one hand from his grasp to swipe at a damp wisp of her hair that was tickling her cheek. Gazing at Danny, she saw caring and concern. Every trace of hardness was gone from his eyes. Here was the man of her teenage dreams. Here was the Danny Walsh she remembered.

"I really am sorry about your father," she said. "How did it happen?
And...
and
when?"

She felt him pull away from her, physically and emotionally. He stood and her eyes followed his movement.

"Heart attack," he informed her. "This June will be five years."

Five years! She could see by the look on his face that he was wondering how it could be that she hadn't heard the news.

"Danny." She stopped,
then
started again. "Daniel, there's no excuse for my not having sent your mother my condolences."

"You're right," he remarked tightly, "there's not."

"Please, let me at least try to explain," she implored. "When I first left Fulton my relationship with my parents fell completely apart. At first I was scared to death to call them. Then, when I did call, Mom refused to speak to me. It took us months to form some semblance of what could be called a relationship." Savanna stopped and swallowed hard at the painful
memories of that terrible time. "It may sound hard to believe, but we never discussed what happened." She hesitated before clarifying, "My running away, I mean. To this day, we never talk about Fulton.
Or your parents.
Or you." She moistened her dry lips. "It's just easier for us this way. I'm sorry I didn't know about your father."

As he listened to her excuse his dark eyes began to freeze and now they looked like cold chips of onyx glittering with bitterness.

"You never thought to ask?"

His question was like a splash of freezing water. Her eyes widened and she sat up straight. He only frowned at her, waiting for an answer.

"I just told you..." Her urge to explain was engulfed in a flame of anger. "Danny, I loved your parents! I loved them just as much as I love my own."

"But not enough to ask how they were getting on.
Not enough to let them know how you were.
Or where you were."
Every muscle in his body was tense. "You didn't love them enough, did you, Savanna? In the end you only loved yourself."

She sat there silent, staring up at his taut face. Swallowing around the tightness in her throat, she said, "I understand your anger."

He looked away. He raised a hand and rubbed it back and forth across his jaw. When he looked at her again, his emotions were firmly under control.

"I'm not angry with you, Savanna," he said. After sighing, loud and heavy, he continued, "I guess I shouldn't have come." He raked his fingers through his hair. "Oh, hell, I meant for this to be so different. I just wanted to...I wanted..." His voice trailed off in obvious frustration.

Savanna stood. "What did you want?" Her query was soft as a whisper.

He stepped back. Whether it was involuntary or a conscious act, she couldn't tell.

His quick smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he shrugged. "To see how you were, of course. That's all."

At that moment making things friendly and comfortable again seemed all important for some reason. Savanna crossed the space between them and placed her hand on his forearm.

"Please sit down," she said. "We'll have a cup of tea or something and catch up. A lot of years have gone by."

He took another step back and her hand fell to her side. "I really can't," he said, looking at his wristwatch. "I've stayed too long as it is. I'm due at the office."

"I see."

He flashed
her another
of those half smiles. "I haven't done a very good job of it, but welcome to Fulton. I'm sure I'll see you around town." He turned and pushed his way out the back door.

Savanna raised her hand and called goodbye, but she was sure he hadn't heard. She looked down and saw Mrs. Hutchinson's chocolate cake on the kitchen table. Marring the smooth icing, she swiped her finger along the side of the cake. As the fudge frosting melted in her mouth, she shook her head, certain now that straightening out the mess she'd made six years ago was going to be more difficult than she'd first imagined.

~
 
~
 
~

Six weeks of total neglect had allowed the weeds to take over of the flower beds. Savanna found a pair of garden gloves and started pulling. The episode with Danny…no,
he went by Daniel now, she'd have to remember. The incident had left her emotionally drained and she found the mundane task of weeding somewhat restful.

"Hey, there, neighbor."

Savanna twisted around and saw a woman standing on the other side of the hedgerow.

"Hi," Savanna called. She stood and brushed the dirt from the knees of her jeans. As she moved closer, she recognized her high school classmate.

"Sheila?" she asked, incredulous. "Sheila Miller?"

Sheila grinned. "It's Thompson now."

Savanna laughed delightedly. "You married Jim! I knew you two were made for each other. I just didn't think he'd ever get up the nerve to ask you out."

Chuckling, Sheila admitted, "He didn't. I finally had to ask him."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope.
Why don't you take a break and come in for a glass of juice?"

"I'd love something cold," Savanna said. She tugged off her gardening gloves as she rounded the hedge.

"Jimmy, you come down out of that tree before you break your neck!" Sheila looked up and called out to the youngster hanging from the branch, "I want you to find your sister. I haven't seen her in the past few minutes and that always
spells
trouble."

Freckle-faced Jimmy dropped down from the oak tree and made a rude noise that startled Savanna.

"Jimmy," his mother threatened.

"I'm going," he relented and stalked off toward the backyard.

"Come on in," Sheila said, rubbing a hand over her pregnant belly.

"Congratulations," Savanna said, glancing down at her friend's stomach. "This will be your third?"

Sheila nodded. Once they were inside the kitchen, she turned to open the cabinet for glasses. "You just met Jimmy, the monkey in the tree. He's five. Amanda's three and she's a terror. I have to keep my eye on that child every minute."

She caught sight of her children playing in the backyard; then she filled the glasses with juice from the refrigerator and handed one of them to Savanna. "It's so good to see you," she said, strategically positioning herself so she could enjoy a chat and keep an eye on her kids. "Tell me how you've been."

Savanna filled Sheila in on her comings and goings of the past six years. When she finished, Savanna noticed that her friend's face had an almost wistful expression.

"You know," Sheila said, "I've made marriage and family my life's work. But I do have to admit…" her voice became soft, "…there are times when I wish that I'd had the courage to run off and seek my fortune like you did."

"Oh, Sheila, don't say that."

"I mean it," she insisted. "Look at you, Savanna. You have a career. You're independent. You go where you please, when you please. No diapers, no spilled milk, no sticky fingerprints. Probably not a single mismatched sock." She sighed as though that thought alone was heaven. "But you were always different. You had something. You took a chance at grabbing that golden star," Sheila went on. "You reached, and it paid off."