Higher Than Eagles (Donovans of the Delta) (18 page)

Rachel prepared two tall glasses of iced tea with plenty of lemon and sugar, just the way Vashti liked it, then she joined her surrogate mother at the kitchen table.

“Once Jacob told me something about himself, and I didn’t remember it until I was back home in Biloxi.”

“Hmmmm.” Vashti sipped her tea, unconvinced that anybody could know more about Jacob Donovan than she did.

“He loves the unattainable. That’s one attraction flying has for him. Only the truly courageous dare to attain the freedom of the skies.”

Vashti thumped her tea glass on the table. “So what does that have to do with getting him back?”

Rachel grinned. “When he comes to Biloxi—and I know he will—I’m going to be unattainable.”

 o0o

Jacob stayed in Greenville only long enough to unload and service the jet, then he climbed into the Baron and headed for Biloxi. It was evening when he checked into the Broadwater Beach Hotel, and he was tired. But he didn’t want to rest. He had to see Rachel. One quick call let him know that she was back at the club, singing two shows a night.

He went to the late show. She wasn’t onstage when he slipped into his seat in a quiet corner near the back. He ordered a drink and waited, tense and expectant.

When she walked onstage, he forgot to breathe. She was shining and glorious, as if she were the finest plane in the world and had been buffed and polished with a chamois cloth. She was wearing a shimmery gown of iridescent beads that moved when she did and shot sparks of fire. Jacob couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

She saw him. He could tell by the shine in her eyes and the high color on her cheeks. Smiling, he leaned back in his seat and listened to her sing. It was a slow, pulsing blues number, and she sang it to him. In fact, she sang all her numbers to him. It was so obvious that heads turned to look in his direction. The curious nightclub patrons wanted to see the object of all Rachel Devlin’s attention.

Jacob loved the attention. He acknowledged all the knowing smiles and curious glances with a wicked, devil-may-care smile.

Onstage Rachel was relieved. She hadn’t known what his mood would be when he came to Biloxi, but his smile had told her everything. There was no tension, no anger in him. Apparently time had been a healer.

Giving a silent prayer of thanks, she turned all her persuasive powers on him. With body language and sultry voice, she made it abundantly clear that she was singing only for him. Watching his reaction, she was secretly delighted. She had Jacob Donovan thinking she’d fall into his lap like a ripe plum. So much the better. He’d be caught completely off guard.

After the show was over, Rachel went to her dressing room and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.

Jacob gave one commanding knock, then he pushed open her door. He’d tried to tame his hair but hadn’t succeeded. It looked like a wild red halo around his face. The spark in his blue eyes was so bright, she wondered why the room didn’t catch fire.

“Hello, Jacob.” He never lost his smile. Her coolness hadn’t registered on him yet.

“Rachel.” He moved into the room as if he owned it.

She sat at her dressing table and picked up her hairbrush. She would use every weapon at her disposal, and she knew what the sight of her brushing her hair did to Jacob Donovan. As she pulled the brush through her mass of hair, she watched the effect the action was having. A muscle jumped in Jacob’s cheek, and he moved abruptly to a chair. He gripped the chair back so hard his knuckles turned white.

“I suppose you’re here to talk about Benjy.” Rachel leaned over and brushed her hair from the underside. She had to do something to hide the gloating look on her face.

“Actually. I’m not. What I have in mind will solve any problems we might have had over our son.”

“Our son?”

“Yes, Rachel. Yours and mine.”

“In Maracaibo he was
your
son.”

“You have every right to be upset with me.”

She put her hairbrush on the dressing table and stood up. With languorous movements, she lifted her hair off the back of her neck and stretched. She hoped the move shot his blood pressure up ten notches.

Letting her hair drift back through her fingers, she smiled at him.

“I’m not upset, Jacob. You were exactly right. Benjy is your son, too, and we’ll work out the details like two sane, sensible adults. There’s no need to let past feelings enter into this discussion.”

“Past feelings?”

“Yes.”

“In Maracaibo, you said you loved me.”

“And you said you didn’t love me. I accept that.” She turned her back to him. “Will you help me with this zipper, Jacob? I need to get out of this dress.”

Jacob didn’t move.

“If I take you out of that dress, we’ll be here the rest of the night, and it won’t be to change clothes.” Suddenly he bolted from his chair and caught her shoulders. “Dammit, Rachel. Look at me.”

She turned slowly around. He was standing so close, she could feel his body heat. She almost abandoned her game. Forcing herself to ignore her passion, she looked straight into Jacob’s eyes. He had to know that she was his match. By her actions she had to show him that he couldn’t walk away from her love and then win her over with a smile.

“I’m looking, Jacob. You look tired. You should have taken a week or two to rest.”

Jacob could hardly believe what he was hearing. A few minutes ago he’d have sworn she was singing those love songs especially for him, and now she was acting as though he barely existed.

“I had other things on my mind”

“Benjy.”

“No. You.”

“I suppose you want to give me a few more orders. It won’t work.”

“I’m not here to give you orders, Rachel. I’m here to tell you that I love you.”

Until she heard him say the words, she hadn’t been certain. Her relief was so great, it made her weak. Keeping her face expressionless, she reached out and patted his cheek.

“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Dammit, Rachel. What is the matter with you? You came down to Maracaibo to ask for my forgiveness and my love. I’m telling you now that I forgive you and that I love you. What in the hell is wrong?”

“Why should I believe you? What makes this time any different from the last time? You carried me up in that plane and declared you’d always love me, and then what did you do? When I got to Maracaibo—to tell you the truth, by the way, and don’t you ever forget that—when I got down there, you treated me like a complete stranger.”

She stalked around the room, every step and gesture calculated to show off her body in the revealing gown she’d chosen so carefully. Heartless, she thought with glee. That’s what she was.

Jacob caught her around the waist and pulled her against his chest.

“I don’t make love to complete strangers.”

She arched her eyebrows.

“Is that what that was, Jacob? Love?”

“Yes. I’ll admit I was a jackass. I took the truth badly. But I’ve never touched you except in the name of love.” He let his hands trail slowly down her back. “Coming home, I realized that I’d never stopped loving you. I can never stop, Rachel. You’re the other half of my heart.”

She tipped her head back and smiled.

“I’ll admit I want you, Jacob. Sex was always good between us. But that’s not love.” Easing out of his arms, she reached behind her back and pulled down her zipper. “You can leave now. I’m going to undress and go home.”

His gaze burned over her. For a moment, she thought he was going to say something else, and then he turned on his heel and left.

She sank into her chair and put her head on her dressing table. If Jacob Donovan had known how close she was to losing control, he would never have left. One more minute, two at the most, and she’d have been in his arms begging to be loved.

She stood up and dressed quickly. Tonight was only round one. Tomorrow would be another day, and she needed her rest.

 o0o

The next day, Jacob’s note arrived.

Dear Rachel,
it read,
let’s have dinner together before your early show. I’ll pick you up at six. Love, Jacob.

 A single white rose was attached.

Smiling and humming, she put the rose in water and carried it upstairs to her bedroom. Then she picked up the telephone and called Jacob.

“I got your note and the rose. Thanks.”

“I knew you’d like the rose. Is six too early for you?”

“The time doesn’t matter. I can’t go with you tonight.”

“Other plans, Rachel?”

“My plans are none of your concern. Goodbye, Jacob.”

She knew Jacob wouldn’t give up. And she was right. Two hours after the phone call, Vashti called her out into the front yard.

“What is it, Vashti?”

“Wait a minute. He’ll come back.”

“Who?”

“Jacob. Benjy and I were practicing his curve ball, and Benjy saw it first. He showed it to me before he went inside for cookies.”

Rachel laughed. “Do you know that you drive me crazy? Stark raving mad. What in this world are you talking about?”

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Vashti stopped talking and grabbed Rachel’s arm. “Look. Up yonder in the sky.”

It was a jet, flying fast and low. As Rachel watched, the plane began to do a series of loops and curves.

The contrail spelled I LOVE YOU, RACHEL.

“He’s going to kill himself, Vashti. He’s not a stunt flyer.”

“How do you know that’s him up there? Maybe he hired somebody else to do the job.”

“I know, Vashti. I know.”

She shaded her eyes and watched the plane pass over her house and come back. I LOVE YOU, RACHEL appeared in the sky once more, then the vapor broke apart and disappeared.

“You crazy, wonderful man. I love you too,” she whispered.

Vashti smiled.

 o0o

Late that afternoon, Jacob called her. He made no mention of the airplane stunt, and neither did she.

“Since you’re busy tonight, I thought I’d stake my claim for tomorrow night. Before or after your show.”

“I’m sorry, Jacob. I can’t.”

“That’s okay. The night after will do.”

“Sorry again.”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re otherwise engaged for the next two weeks.”

She laughed.

“Of course not. I never make plans more than two nights in advance.”

“Is that something new with you, Rachel?”

“It could be, Jacob. There are a lot of things you don’t know about me anymore.”

“One way or the other, I intend to find out. Goodbye, Rachel.”

 o0o

Jacob came to her club that night, but he left without coming backstage. She’d expected another confrontation. In fact, she’d counted on it. When she left the club, she was so upset, she got stopped for speeding on the way home. And she hadn’t even realized she was going fast.

“Your driver’s license, please.”

She prided herself on knowing most of the police force because they were big fans of hers. But this officer was new. What the heck, she thought. She’d try to charm him anyway. She hated fines with a passion, and she’d use any ploy to get out of one.

“You caught me red-handed, Officer. I hope you won’t be too hard on me.” She gave him a smile she hoped was devastating, and she even batted her eyelashes at him. She hoped lightning didn’t strike her dead for her shameless ways.

He was not impressed. He checked her license, then turned his flashlight onto her face. “Rachel Devlin, are you?”

“Yes. I’m the singer.” She smiled again, but the officer was still not overwhelmed. She decided she’d lost her touch. Leaning out her window, she read his badge. “Officer Richards . . . can I be frank with you?”

He grinned. “You might try that instead of flirting.”

“Flirting?”

“Yeah. All that fluttering and simpering. I’ve got a wife and six kids. I’m immune—even to a good-looking dame like you.”

“I’m a little frustrated tonight, and I really wasn’t paying attention to the speedometer. Man trouble.”

He leaned down to get a closer look at her face. “Not abuse, is it?”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. It’s just love. We can’t seem to get things right. First he’s willing and I’m not, then I am and he’s not. It’s very complicated.”

“Love always is.” Officer Richards handed her driver’s license back to her. “Under the circumstances I’m going to let you off with a warning. Take it easy.”

“In the car or in the love battle?”

“Both.”

He tipped his hat and left.

Rachel drove at a snail’s pace all the way home. She saw the shadow on her porch the minute she swung into her driveway. Her foot hit the brake, and her hand reached for the spray bottle of ammonia under her front seat. While she was trying to decide whether to turn around and drive for help or whether to attack the intruder with her household ammonia, he stepped into the light. His red hair lit up like a flame.

She rolled down the window.

“Jacob, you scared me half to death.”

“What took you so long, Rachel?”

“First my zipper got stuck and I had to get Louie to get me out of my dress, then I got stopped for speeding. I tried flirting and nearly got arrested for trying to bribe an officer. And then you show up on my front porch. Jacob Donovan, I could kill you.”

He roared with laughter. “Can you wait until after the concert, love? I couldn’t play too well as a corpse.”

“What concert? It’s nearly three o’clock in the morning. Are you crazy?”

“I’m crazy in love.” He opened the door on the driver’s side and scooted her over. “And so are you. Since you’re so busy avoiding me, I decided the only way to get this thing settled is to kidnap you.”

He drove the car smoothly into the garage and locked the doors. Then he turned to face her.

“It took me a while to figure it out, Rachel. And I’ll have to tell you that I’m impressed. You show remarkable spunk for a woman your age.”

“A woman my age. What does that have to do with anything?”

“A woman your age should be married and having kids.”

“Jacob Donovan, wipe that smirk off your face. I’m tired and I’m going to bed.”

“
We
certainly are. As soon as we get this settled.”