Read Call It Destiny Online

Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz

Call It Destiny (10 page)

BOOK: Call It Destiny
2.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

„Not particularly. But everyone else seems to be having a good time.“ He was still standing in darkness. She
could barely see the narrowed gleam of his eyes, let alone read those unfathomable gray depths.
 

„You’ll have to start learning how to have a good time too, won’t you? After all, you’re making the resort life a career, aren’t you?“

His face hardened as she began to step past him, and he reached out to catch her wrist. „Heather? Are you all right?“

Frantically she summoned a bright smile. „Of course. Why shouldn’t I be?“

„You’ve never left one of these parties early. You always seem to enjoy playing hostess.“

„I needed a little time to myself.“ She let her glance slide away from his implacably concerned expression.

„Bridal jitters?“ he offered.

„Umm, yes. I expect so.“

„That’s not like you, either, is it?“

„Jake, as I keep pointing out to you, you don’t really know me that well, do you?“ she sighed.

„I’m learning.“

It sounded like a threat. Heather reacted by carefully freeing her wrist and stepping away from him. She kept the too-bright smile in place. „If you don’t mind, I’d better be getting back to the party. My mother will be wondering where I am.“

„I’ll come with you.“

She could say nothing in opposition. But when he again caught her hand in his she shivered and knew he felt it.

„Heather?“

„Bridal jitters, as you said, Jake. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Back to normal, in fact.“
 

„Good. Because it’s much too late to change your plans.“ When she shot him a wary sidelong glance he gave her an amused look. „Two hundred people in the resort chapel and no telling how many at the reception. Julian would have a fit if he had to throw all those hors d’oeuvres away.“

„Don’t worry, Jake, I’ll show up at the wedding. After all, it’s my first one and I’m bound to be curious.“ She slipped free of his grasp once more as the good-natured crowd on the terrace closed around them.

Heather spotted Jim Connors, the busboy who owned the beautiful new motorcycle, and moved to join the group with whom he was standing. As usual he was discussing the intricacies of motorcycle riding with his friends, and Heather, aware that she was a few years out-of-date, joined right in.
 

When the party was over the problem of how to avoid finding herself alone with Jake was readily solved when she found herself amid a group of hotel workers who were going in her general direction. At her door she bid them all good-night, including Jake who stood on the fringes, watching her through cool considering eyes. With another overly brilliant smile she closed the door on everyone.
 

At nine-fifteen the next morning
Heather dismissed her mother and her sisters with a firmness that surprised everyone, including herself. For the past hour they had been fluttering around the bride-to-be, arranging the elegant lace-and-satin gown, experimenting with her hair under the gossamer veil, telling her how lovely she looked. Their excitement should have been contagious but Heather had been growing increasingly high-strung and chilled. With forty-five minutes to go before she was due at the quiet chapel tucked into the hotel gardens, Heather could take the warmth and family affection no longer. The falseness of the entire situation had to be ended.
 

„I just need a little time to myself,“ she explained, waving them all out the front door. „Don’t worry, I’m quite capable of walking over to the chapel on my own.“

„Heather, dear, are you feeling all right?“ Ruth Strand asked anxiously.
 

„I’m fine, mother. Just a little tense.“

Her mother smiled. „Perhaps a bit of sherry before the wedding?“

Ann, Heather’s youngest sister looked horrified. „Mother! That’s outrageous!“

„Actually, it sounds like a rather good idea, but I think I’ll pass,“ Heather said wryly.

„All right, dear. Call if you need us,“ Ruth said, her blue eyes reflecting her feminine understanding of the strain her daughter was experiencing.
 

Except that her mother couldn’t possibly know just how bad the strain was, Heather told herself wearily as she shut the door behind the female members of her family. No one could possibly understand.
 

It seemed to take forever to undo the row of buttons that ran down the back of the elegant summer wedding gown. Heather worked with a grim intensity that grew as the dress crumpled into a frothy heap around her feet. Then she unfastened the pale stockings and rolled them down to her toes. When she lifted the veil she was left standing in the silky white bra and panties. For a long moment Heather studied her reflection in the mirror seeking guidance or answers or assurance that could never come.

Then she turned to her closet and pulled out the narrow black designer jeans she had bought for horseback riding. When they were fastened she tugged a black cotton-knit pullover out of the drawer and located the sleek leather riding boots standing in the back of the closet. She controlled the sweep of bronzed hair with a headband she had bought to wear for tennis. It had a vague Southwest-Indian motif woven into it and it went rather strikingly with the silver-and-leather belt she wrapped around her narrow waist.
 

This time when she glanced into the mirror there was no trace of a glowing bride. A proud, coldly angry woman stared back at her. A woman who looked as though she could take care of herself in a man’s world.

It was exactly the image Heather needed to see in that moment. Deliberately she turned away and headed for the door.

She found Jim Connors hanging around the back of the hotel kitchens, enjoying a soft drink with some of his friends as he took a break before the lunch rush. When she offered him fifty dollars for temporary use of his new motorcycle he stared at her.

„Don’t worry, Jim. I know what I’m doing on a bike. And the fifty will go a long way toward gas.“ She smiled at him with a cool imperiousness that made him obey. Uncertainly he dug the keys out of his jeans.

„Uh, the wedding?“ he asked hesitantly, clearly out of his depths.

„The wedding is on schedule as far as I know.“ She plucked the keys from his hesitant grasp and replaced them with fifty dollars in cash. „Thanks. I’ll make sure you get it back in one piece.“

„Miss Strand, I don’t know about this,“ the teenager said worriedly.
 

„Oh, one more thing. Would you mind if I borrowed your leather jacket? For safety purposes.“

„Well, no, I guess not. It will be a little big. Look, Miss Strand, maybe you should borrow the bike another time?“

„Now is exactly the right time.“ She shrugged into the leather jacket. The desert sun would rapidly make the garment uncomfortable but she could live with that.
 

The massive black motorcycle accepted her unprotestingly. She mounted automatically from the left side, her jeaned leg swinging expertly over the seat, and the helmet stowed behind. The twisting
grip that was the accelerator fit perfectly in her right hand. It had been a long time but when she experimentally took the powerful bike around the employee parking lot everything came back, including the incomparable rush of excitement and independence. The feelings were a drug in her
veins. Without further hesitation Heather headed the bike for the exit. She didn’t glance back at Jim’s anxious face.
 

The narrow path that wound picturesquely up to the little chapel was almost empty. Most of the guests were already seated or standing around in the gardens, chatting as they waited for the service to begin. Bright flutters of colorful dresses were scattered like flowers. The men’s clothing was not quite as bright but it certainly reflected the sunbelt dress code. Everyone looked cheerful and light and pleasantly excited.
 

The politely threatening but subdued roar of the black cycle made everyone turn toward Heather as she rode the bike slowly up the path. For a moment no one recognized her, including her parents and Jake who were standing together on the front steps of the chapel.

Jake realized first who it was. He didn’t move as she drove the big bike to the bottom of the steps and halted it. One booted foot bracing herself and the machine, Heather flexed her fingers on the handlebars and focused only on the man who waited for her. She refused to look at the mingled shock and anxiety on her mother’s face or the stunned outrage on her father’s.

Jake watched her as though she were a sorceress who was about to cast an evil spell on him. His hard face revealed nothing of what he was thinking. He stood impassive and remote as he awaited the bolt of lightning she was about to throw. Of all the people gathered there only he seemed to realize exactly what was happening.

„I understand there’s a wedding here today,“ Heather remarked so that all could hear. „I just wanted to come by and congratulate the groom. I understand he’s the new owner of the Hacienda Strand. The news came as something of a shock to the bride, I’m afraid, so if I were you I wouldn’t stand around waiting for her. She’s a bit indisposed at the moment. Feeling like a manipulated idiot will do that to a woman. Especially on her wedding day.“
 

„But don’t let that little fact ruin the celebration. I’m sure the groom is quite capable of carrying on without her. After all, he’s got everything else, including the bride’s inheritance. I know he can make do without the bride herself. As for the bride, well, she’ll be okay, too. She’s had a lot of experience taking care of herself and she intends to apply it. You all have a good time now, you hear?“

She twisted the accelerator in her right hand and the bike growled in response. The fluttery dresses and handsome suits standing in the way parted instantly, creating a path for the black beast Heather rode. She roared down the path toward the main entrance to the lodge and then she was free, heading down the road toward Tucson.

Behind her, stunned silence hung thickly in the air as the assembled guests turned to stare at the groom where he stood with the bride’s parents.
 

Jake watched impassively as Heather disappeared into the distance, and then he spoke calmly to the man who had just missed becoming his father-in-law.
 

„Didn’t you ever tell Heather to wear a helmet when she went motorcycle riding?“

Paul Strand nearly choked on his answer. „More often than I can remember.“

„Well, this time I’ll have to see that she gets the message.“ Jake strode down the steps and the crowd at the bottom parted for him in the same way they had parted for the woman on the motorcycle.

Perhaps they sensed a similar potential for raw violence in man and machine.

5

 

 

The ride into Tucson
provided everything Heather needed at that moment. The instant responses of the motorcycle, so much faster and more accurate than an automobile, required her full attention. The sensation of speed fed her need for physical excitement. And the adrenaline pounding through her blood consumed the element of danger that flowed through the air around her. She was at one with the big machine, and for the length of time it took to reach the main part of town, Heather knew a violent sense of satisfaction.
 

The satisfaction began to fade when she was forced to slow for the first stoplight. Reality slowly settled, extending its long coils to imprison her.

Heather realized she had no clear-cut idea of what she intended to do next. The logical step was to hop the next flight back to California. She could hardly take Jim Connors’s beautiful motorcycle all the way to San Francisco.
 

At least this time she would be leaving town with more than a few dollars to her name, Heather thought wryly as she pulled into a gas station and halted the bike beside a phone booth. Tucked away in the small built-in carrier of the motorcycle was her checkbook and stuffed into her calfskin wallet were several credit cards. She wouldn’t have to find work in a fast-food restaurant in order to survive. The checking account and the credit cards were all her own. There was not a dime of her father’s money involved.
 

„Hey, lady, quite a bike. Want to give me a ride?“

The grinning face of the gas-station attendant caught Heather’s attention.

„Not today.“

Stuffing the keys into her front pocket Heather stepped into the phone booth and started calling airlines. The next flight to San Francisco wasn’t until later that evening. Yes, there was one seat left. Heather took it.
 

The gas-station attendant and some of his buddies were hovering around the bike when she emerged.

„Kind of a big bike for a little lady like you,“ one volunteered with an experimental leer.

„I manage.“ She tossed her hair back and boldly stepped toward the bike, daring any of the curious young men to get in her way.

They moved aside, just as the wedding guests had done. Everyone, it seemed, knew better than to get in her way today, Heather reflected bitterly.
 

She had several hours to kill before leaving for the airport. It was getting far too hot to spend them outside. The thought of killing time in one of the huge indoor shopping malls appealed briefly before she discarded it. The last thing she wanted was to be surrounded by people. She needed some time to think. Everything had happened so fast since her discovery last night.
 

Someplace cool and quiet. A motel room.

Slowly Heather began to cruise toward the airport, seeking one of the new motels that had been built near it. Some time later a frankly suspicious desk clerk handed her the key to Room 235.

„Complimentary coffee and rolls in the morning,“ he volunteered.
 

„Fine.“ She saw no reason to inform him she’d be gone by then.

In the anonymous room on the second floor she sat down on the bed and picked up the telephone. Jim Connors was going to be frantic about his beloved bike. Refusing to identify herself, she waited impatiently until the young busboy could be found and brought to the front-desk phone.
 

BOOK: Call It Destiny
2.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Ghost of a Dream by Simon R. Green
Must Love Wieners by Griffin, Casey
1 Target of Death by Madison Johns
Nightfall Over Shanghai by Daniel Kalla
Living and Dying in Brick City by Sampson Davis, Lisa Frazier Page
Blackstone's Bride by Kate Moore