Donovan's Bed: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 1 (22 page)

Muttering beneath her breath, Sarah halted by Doc Mercer’s office and faced Susannah as her sister caught up with her.

“Are you sneaking off to work again? Heavens, Sarah, why can’t you just let yourself have a good time for once?”

“I—”

“And what happened to that lovely pink dress you were wearing?” Suzie interrupted. “Do you have some sort of aversion to looking nice?”

Sarah could see Donovan looking around for her. If she could just get rid of Suzie… “I changed. Now, if you’ll just excuse me—”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Suzie stepped closer, studying her sister’s face. “Something’s wrong.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sarah glanced at Donovan again. He didn’t look happy that she had disappeared, and she wouldn’t put it past the man to fling her over his shoulder and carry her back forcibly if he thought she was trying to escape to her office.

“You may be the smart one, Sarah, but don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I can tell that something is bothering you. What is it?”

At the simple caring in her sister’s tone, Sarah smiled ruefully. “I never could hide anything from you, could I?”

“No, so you might as well just start talking.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but—”

“It’s a man, isn’t it?”

Sarah nodded. “Jack Donovan. He asked me to marry him. I’m sorry, Suzie.”

“Sorry?” Susannah stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. “How can you be sorry that a man like that asked you to marry him? I’d put a banner headline in the newspaper if he asked me!”

Startled by Suzie’s easy acceptance of the news, Sarah replied, “I haven’t accepted yet. That’s why I haven’t told Mama; I don’t want to get her hopes up. But I had to tell
you
.”

“Why is that?” Susannah’s eyes widened. “Oh, Sarah, you must have wanted to smack me when I announced that I intended to marry Mr. Donovan!”

Sarah grinned. “It did give me a bad moment or two. How was I supposed to tell my sister that the man she came home to marry had already proposed to me?”

“Exactly the way you just did.” Susannah hugged Sarah. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Well, I haven’t accepted. And I may not.” As Susannah pulled back to gape at her, Sarah said, “I need to be very sure about this, Suzie. I can’t take the chance of being wrong. Not again.”

“Sniffing all that printer’s ink has finally made you crazy,” Susannah declared. “The most eligible bachelor in town has asked you to marry him, and you aren’t sure if you’re going to accept?”

“Please understand, Suzie.” Sarah bit her lip. “He might change his mind, and I’d rather find out sooner than later.”

Susannah gave an indelicate snort. “You don’t have a lot of faith in yourself, do you? Are you in love with him?”

Sarah ignored the question, too afraid of what her answer would be. “I’m just not rushing into anything. This way either one of us can back out of we feel it isn’t going to work.”

“You’re fooling yourself, Sarah.”

“Maybe. But this is the way it has to be, so please don’t say anything to Mama just yet.”

“Fine.” Susannah turned back toward the crowd. “Uh-oh, there’s Mrs. Castor.”

“Drat.” The mayor’s wife had noticed her, and Sarah sighed as the woman imperiously beckoned. “You know, I think I liked it better when I was a social outcast.”

“Back to your punch bowl, Sarah,” Suzie teased with a grin.

“I was
trying
to get to Jack,” Sarah muttered. “I wanted to ask him something, but now he’s surrounded, and I can’t seem to escape the Ladies’ Auxiliary.”

Suzie shaded her eyes and peered across the square to where Donovan stood in a cluster of several women. “You want me to go run them off? All’s fair in love and war.”

Sarah grinned. “You could do me a big favor and tell Jack that I’d like to talk to him about something. Tell him to meet me at the newspaper office in about half an hour. I should be able to get away by then.”

“You’ve got it. And if Mrs. Castor won’t let you go,
I’ll
serve punch.”

Sarah gave her sister a big hug. “Thanks, Suzie.”

“What are sisters for? Don’t worry about your man, Sarah. I’ll take good care of him.”

“I know you will.”

Susannah watched her sister take her place back at the refreshment table, then turned a considering gaze on the crowd that had gathered around Donovan. She would not only chase them off, but she would use the opportunity to ascertain whether Jack Donovan was good enough for Sarah.

She smoothed her hair and her dress to be sure she was presentable. She even pinched her cheeks to make them rosy. Just because she was doing her sisterly duty in interrogating a man didn’t mean she couldn’t look good while doing it.

“So tell me,” said a low, masculine voice from above her. “Are you really doing your sister a favor here? Or are you planning on taking her beau away from her?”

Suzie glanced up and saw a man at the window of Doc Mercer’s clinic, just a couple of feet above her head. He had long, straw-colored hair, dark eyes and a mustache. The smirk on his handsome face made her instinctively want to smack it off.

“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” she said.

“You’re pretty enough to get the whole cavalry come a-courtin’. Why don’t you just leave your sister’s man be?”

“You’re mistaken, sir,” Suzie said, maintaining a civil tone with effort.

As she walked away, he said, “If I were you, I’d just leave well enough alone.”

“Well, you’re not me,” she snapped, irritated at the way her pulse skittered at the sound of that slow, Southern drawl. She propped her hands on her hips. “Perhaps you should take your own advice and leave well enough alone.”

He laughed, showing her a glimpse of white teeth and a strong throat.

“You’re something, princess. If I weren’t a sick man, I’d come out there and—”

She cut him off with a chilly look of disdain. “You’d have to catch me first.”

He narrowed his gaze. “Oh, I’d catch you, all right. I’m a U.S. marshal, ma’am. And we always get our man—or woman.”

“Conceited ox.” Turning on her heel, she headed back toward the festival, the rascal’s laughter chasing behind her.

Donovan noticed immediately when Sarah left the refreshment table, but before he could chase after her, he was cornered by the Tremont sisters.

Emmaline stood nearby, no doubt acting as a chaperone, though she turned a blind eye to her sister’s obvious flirting. Donovan, scanning the area for Sarah, hardly noticed Juliana’s attempts to capture his interest. He just wanted them both to go away so he could catch up with his intended.

Finally Sarah reappeared and took up her station at the punch bowl. She met his gaze for a moment, glanced at the Tremonts, then arched her brows.

He looked down at Juliana’s proprietary hand on his arm and at once realized how the situation might look to Sarah. Suddenly hankering for a glass of punch, he tried to break free, but Juliana’s grip became tighter than a bear trap. Helpless, he could only look over at Sarah, unsure how to escape without committing some grave social error. But at the militant look in his sassy girl’s eye, he found himself weighing the consequences of a social blunder on his part against the gossip likely to result if his future bride were to launch herself over the refreshment table and pluck Juliana Tremont bald.

Just then the cavalry arrived in the form of a beautiful woman.

“Well, well, Juliana Tremont. The last time I saw you, you were running the lemonade table at the church bazaar. Looks like you’re still sour.”

The tall, statuesque woman who had joined their group was dressed in a fancy store-bought blue dress with lace trim that showcased her curvy figure. Her silver-blonde hair was done up in ringlets that looked alluring rather than childish, and her lush mouth curved in a confident smile.

“Susannah Calhoun. I’d heard you were back.” From the tone of Juliana’s voice, she didn’t seem overjoyed at the prospect.

Donovan would have been happy to see the devil himself if it meant escaping the Tremonts. “Miss Calhoun, I’m Jack Donovan. I know your family.”

“Mr. Donovan.” Slanting him a flirtatious glance, Susannah offered her hand. Donovan took it and held it.

“You’re interrupting our conversation, Susannah.” Emmaline looked down her nose and sniffed.

“Emmaline,” Susannah said with a smile. “You haven’t changed a bit. Such a pity.” Dismissing the Tremonts with an elegant shrug, she turned back to Donovan. “Mr. Donovan, I find myself in need of an escort to the pie-eating contest.”

“Allow me.” Donovan offered his elbow, but Juliana still clung to his other arm. Both Susannah and Donovan stared at Juliana until she removed her hand. Donovan nodded at the Tremonts. “Ladies.”

“But—” Juliana spluttered.

“So nice seeing you again,” Sarah trilled with an insincere smile as Donovan led her away.

Donovan dared not say a word until they were out of earshot; then he started chuckling. “Masterfully done, Miss Calhoun. I am in your debt.”

“There’s nothing I like better than having a handsome man in my debt, Mr. Donovan.” Susannah sent a sharp look to a pretty girl who stood nearby, staring moon-eyed at Donovan. The girl started, blushed beet-red, and hurried away.

“You’re very good at that,” he remarked.

“Practice. While you’re with me, none of them will bother you.” She arched one perfectly curved eyebrow. “Unless you want to be bothered.”

“There’s only one woman I’m interested in, and that’s your sister.”

“Well.” Susannah’s lips curved. “That puts me in my place.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Calhoun. You’re a beautiful woman, but—”

“No, no.” Susannah waved a hand to cut him off. “I’m glad to hear it. My sister has never been lucky in love, Mr. Donovan, but I’m hoping you might change that.”

“I’m trying to. I intend to marry her.”

“I see.” Susannah stopped to admire a quilt that was being raffled off, the proceeds of which would go to the school fund. “Sarah’s made some bad decisions in the past.”

“I don’t care about the past.”

“But I do. She’s been hurt, Mr. Donovan.” Susannah slanted him a look that, had she been a man, would have had him reaching for his gun. “I intend to see that she doesn’t get hurt again.”

“I have no intention of hurting her.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind answering a few questions—to put a sister’s mind at ease.”

Donovan recognized the steel beneath the tone and respected it. Had Sarah been his sister, he would have done the same thing. “Ask away, Miss Calhoun.”

“Please, call me Susannah.” With a sweet smile, she launched into an interrogation that would have made any military commander shudder.

Standing by the punch bowl, Sarah smothered a smile as she watched her sister extract Donovan from the clutches of the Tremont sisters.

The two seemed to be in deep conversation. She frowned, wondering how long it took to deliver a message. She tried to catch Susannah’s eye, but her sister appeared to be deliberately ignoring her. Sarah groaned, realizing that Suzie was probably questioning Donovan about his background.

Between her mother’s efforts to throw Sarah at any likely bachelor and her sister’s determination to protect her, Sarah sometimes wished she were both an orphan and an only child.

The next shift for the punch bowl arrived, and Sarah handed the ladle to the woman with relief. For a moment she was tempted to go rescue Jack from Susannah’s interrogation, but then she saw Mrs. Castor bearing down on her with determination. Beating a hasty retreat, Sarah set off for the newspaper office to wait for Jack.

Going around back so that no one would see her, she unlocked the door to the office and stepped inside. Sinking into her desk chair, she shook her head. Only yesterday, the Ladies’ Auxiliary had done their best to ignore her existence. Today they seemed determined to include her in every one of the activities—because of something Jack had done.

How had he done it? How had he managed to make a three-year old scandal disappear? And why had he done it? For her, or because he didn’t want her past to reflect on him once they were married?

She wanted to believe him when he said he didn’t give credence to gossip. But she was so used to men disappointing her that she couldn’t help but wonder.

Still, Jack Donovan seemed to be different from the other men she’d known. He had even offered her a chance at her dream of a family without forcing her to sacrifice her career. Not many men would make such a concession.

Good Lord—she was in love with him.

The truth of her own feelings scared her to death even as it buoyed her heart. Leaning back in her chair, she stared up at the ceiling. Why him? Why a man who brought out the carnal side of her that made her so uncomfortable? A man who confused her by rejecting her one minute and proposing to her the next?

But love him she did. She loved his looks. His walk. That single dimple that creased his cheek when he smiled. She was fascinated by the many layers of the man inside, lured by his dreams and his secrets.