THEN - NINETEEN YEARS AGO
“I love you, Donovan. I’ll love you forever.” Beth’s voice shook with the force of her emotions. At sixteen, she was sure of her feelings. Nothing would ever change the way she felt about the young man who lay next to her.
Donovan smoothed golden-blond hair back off her forehead and smiled. With only two more years behind him he was immeasurably older than the girl lying beside him.
“I love you too, Beth, but we’ve got to be sensible.”
“I don’t want to be sensible.” She walked her fingers up his chest, feeling the way his heartbeat accelerated beneath the light touch. “I’m sixteen. That’s old enough to make up my own mind.”
Donovan caught her fingers in his. “Beth, we can’t get married now. You’re too young. And even if you weren’t, your father would never give us permission. He doesn’t like me. I’ve seen the way he looks at me.”
“Daddy just doesn’t know you, that’s all. He thinks you’re bad for me, but if he got to know you, he’d see how wonderful you are.”
His mouth twisted. “I doubt it. And he’s right. You deserve someone a lot better than I am. You could date any guy in school.” She tugged her fingers loose and put them over his mouth.
“Stop it. I don’t want to date any guy in school. I love you,. Donovan. I love you so much.”
“I can’t offer you anything. A beat-up motorcycle, a job in a garage...”
“You’re going to be an architect. The best architect in the whole world. Someday, you’ll be rich and famous.”
He felt her belief in him like a gentle hand stroking across his soul. In all his life, no one had ever had such complete faith, such boundless belief, in him. Looking into her clear blue eyes, he could almost see his dreams reflected there, whole and shining, polished by the light of her love.
His mouth curved in a half smile. “What did I ever do without you?”
“Much worse, I’m sure.” Her fingers slid into the thick blackness of his hair. It fell in waves to just past his shoulders. Beth thought it made him look like a young Greek god, but she’d never have said so to Donovan. She was old enough to know the compliment would embarrass him.
Donovan leaned over her, his palm resting against her waist, left bare by low hip-huggers and a soft blue shirt with the tails tied under her breasts. Beth shivered beneath the look in his eyes. They’d been lovers for almost three months, but she didn’t think she’d ever get used to the way he made her feel. She knew that after three months or thirty years, Donovan Sinclair would always be able to melt her bones with a look.
She closed her eyes against the intensity of his look, her mouth softening in anticipation of his kiss. His mouth was firm and warm, coaxing her lips to open to his. His hand slid around her waist, his fingers splayed against her spine, arching her into his body. Beth’s hands tightened against his shoulders, clinging to him as his tongue explored her mouth.
A hot September sun blazed down around them, denying that summer was over. The grass smelled sweet and green with memories of summer. In the distance a group of small children were playing, but their shouts and laughter seemed very far away.
All that mattered was Beth and Donovan, lying beneath a huge, old willow in the warm, sweet grass. The dying summer didn’t matter. Her father’s disapproval didn’t matter. All that mattered was Donovan’s mouth on hers, his hands warm on her bare back.
He dragged his mouth away from hers, his breathing ragged. She could feel the pressure of his arousal against her thigh. She slipped her hands inside his chambray shirt, feeling his sweat-dampened skin. It excited her to know that he wanted her so much. Her fingers explored the hard muscles under the light dusting of hair that covered his chest.
Donovan was not like the boys she went to school with. At eighteen he was hard and firm, muscled from years of working after school and on weekends. When she’d first met him, all her girlfriends had warned her about him. He was older, he rode a motorcycle, he wore a black leather jacket. Everything about him spelled Danger.
Everyone in Remembrance, Indiana, knew about Donovan Sinclair. Boys like him never came to any good. His father was a drunk who’d never done an honest day’s labor in his life. His mother had been a good woman who’d worked herself to death trying to support her husband and her son. Donovan himself was clearly destined for no good. No one could explain why this was so clear—maybe it was the way he looked. He was too handsome, too tough, too sure of himself. Maybe it was the way he dressed. Rebellion might have become a symbol of youth in the rest of the country, but in Remembrance there were still only two kinds of kids: good ones and bad ones.
The good ones played football or were cheerleaders, according to their sex. The bad ones wore black leather jackets, jeans that were a little too tight and hair that was a little too long. There were a few people who took note of the fact that Donovan Sinclair had never been known to take a drink and had held a steady job since he was sixteen. But most folks saw the insolent twist of his mouth and the way his eyes could look right through a person, and they knew exactly what to label him.
Trouble.
Beth Martin had known Donovan most of her life—or, at least, she’d known of him. In a town as small as Remembrance, everybody knew just about everybody else, at least by sight. She’d never thought much about him one way or another until six months ago. She’d had a fight with her boyfriend, and Donovan had offered her a ride home on his motorcycle. Ordinarily she would have refused, but she was just mad enough at Brad to accept the offer.
During the course of that ride her entire world had changed. There was an electricity between the two of them that couldn’t be denied. She knew Donovan felt it, too. Brad and the other boys on the football team suddenly seemed callow and boring. But Donovan knew what it would do to a girl’s reputation to be seen with him, and he’d dropped her off at her house without saying a word about seeing her again.
For the first time in her life, Beth was the one doing the pursuing. It had taken her almost a month to wear down Donovan’s resistance and convince him that she wasn’t going to go away.
“Stop it, Beth.” Donovan’s voice dragged her out of her thoughts. His hand caught hers, pressing her palm flat against his chest, halting her sensuous exploration. She lifted her gaze to his and then looked away quickly. It still half frightened her to see how much he wanted her.
Donovan saw her uncertainty and his eyes softened. Sometimes he felt eons older than Beth. She’d lived such a sheltered life. She’d never had to wonder where her next meal was coming from, never had to worry about having enough heat in the winter. Her mother had died when she was just a baby, but her father had done everything he could to see that his only child never lacked for anything, whether it was love or material things.
Donovan ran his fingers through her silky hair, contrasting its golden blond with his own tanned, work-roughened hands. She was so full of light, both inside and out. Everybody said he was no good, and he more than half believed it himself. How could she possibly love someone like him? But she did love him, impossible though it seemed, and Donovan was careful to do nothing that would frighten her, nothing that would show her just how unworthy he was of that love.
“You’re so beautiful, Beth. What did I ever do to deserve you?” Beth smiled up at him, unaware of the underlying ache in his voice.
“I guess you just got lucky.”
“I guess I did.” His mouth touched hers again, feeling her body arch into his. He groaned low in his throat, rolling to press his full length against hers. The sweet scent of crushed grass rose around them. His hand slid upward, easing beneath the edge of her shirt to cup her breast. Beth stiffened for a moment and then seemed to melt beneath him.
Somewhere in the distance a dog barked, reminding Donovan that they were hardly alone. The hanging branches of the old willow provided a fragile privacy at best. He dragged his hand away from temptation and slowly broke the kiss, ignoring her murmur of protest.
“Beth, in a minute we’re going to get arrested for indecent exposure.”
“So what?” Her hands slipped reluctantly off his shoulders as he sat up.
“So I don’t think you’d like jail, and I don’t think your father would like bailing you out. I know he’s not all that happy that you’re seeing me anyway.”
Beth felt the color rise in her cheeks, and she was glad that his back was to her. “Guilt” must be written in scarlet letters across her forehead.
“Daddy trusts my judgment. Besides, I’m sixteen, not six. He knows he can’t tell me what to do anymore.”
She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. Less than a week ago, her father had strictly forbidden her to see Donovan again. He said people were beginning to talk. Beth didn’t care what people said. She loved Donovan, and nothing was going to keep her from him. Not even her father.
Donovan stood up. “I’d better get you home. I’m due at work in an hour, and you’ve probably got homework to finish before school tomorrow.’
Beth let him pull her up, sliding her arms around his waist and leaning into the solid strength of his body. “You work too hard.”
“If I’m going to start college in January, I need all the money I can get. I won’t be able to work as many hours.”
“You’ll probably have even less time for me then.”
He slid his fingers into her long hair, cupping the back of her head and tilting her face upward. “I’ll always have time for you.”
Her mock pout faded into a smile that made his heart pound. Sometimes he wondered if Beth knew just how she affected him. She was so beautiful. He bent his head to taste her smile, as if he could drink in her warmth and light and banish some of the dark corners in his soul.
#
“How’s Donovan?”
Beth swirled the straw in her glass of iced tea and glanced across the table. Carol Montgomery had been her best friend since kindergarten. They’d shared every big moment in each other’s lives, from first boyfriends to bras. Looking into Carol’s curious face, Beth found herself oddly reluctant to discuss Donovan. It wasn’t that she was afraid Carol couldn’t keep a secret, because in all their years of friendship, neither had ever betrayed a confidence.
Beth couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Somehow, her relationship with Donovan was private. It was something she didn’t want to share with anyone—not even her best friend.
She shrugged. “He’s fine.”
“Does your dad know you’re still seeing him?”
“No. And Donovan doesn’t know Daddy told me not to see him anymore.”
Carol reached for another pack of sugar and stirred it into her tea. She was blessed with a metabolism that allowed her to eat anything and never gain an ounce. For once Beth didn’t feel envious of her friend’s genetic luck. The tea tasted funny. In fact, she was sorry they’d come to Danny’s at all. The smell of pizza made her feel vaguely queasy. On the jukebox the Rolling Stones were screaming ‘”Jumping Jack Flash,” and the sound intensified the headache that had been plaguing her all day.
“What are you going to do if your father finds out you’re still seeing Donovan?”
Beth pushed her tea away. “I don’t know. I don’t understand why Daddy’s being so unreasonable about this. Donovan’s never been in trouble.”
“It’s because he looks like he has been or will be at any minute.” Carol leaned back as the waiter set their pizza in the middle of the table. “Boy, does that look terrific.” Beth swallowed hard and closed her eyes against the smell of cheese and tomato sauce, “Aren’t you going to have some?”
She opened her eyes and smiled at Carol. “In a minute.” The queasiness was fading.
Carol bit into a slice of pizza oozing cheese, her expression blissful. “The thing you’ve got to remember is that all parents automatically dislike anyone their children like.” Carol delivered this piece of philosophy between bites.
“Daddy’s never been like that.”
“That makes it worse. All that pent-up feeling is just now coming out. He’ll be adamant about Donovan. When you argue he’ll say things like, ‘Beth, I’ve never been unreasonable about your friends, have I? You’ll just have to trust my judgment on this one.’"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Carol’s accurate imitation of her father’s words drew a halfhearted laugh out of Beth. She reached for the smallest slice of pizza and set it on her plate.
“I’m not going to trust his judgment on this one. I love Donovan and he loves me, and I’m not going to give him up—not for anything in the world.”
“Good for you. Personally, I think Donovan Sinclair is gorgeous.”
“He is, isn’t he?” Beth pushed a mushroom around the rim of her plate, the expression in her eyes dreamy.
Carol gave her a sidelong look. “Beth, I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”
Beth looked up, dragging her mind away from Donovan. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
“What’s it like when you and Donovan ... when you ... you know?”
Beth did know, and she felt the color come up in her cheeks until she was sure they were as red as the vinyl booth. “It’s none of your business.”
Carol sat back in her seat, her face as flushed as Beth’s. “I’m sorry, Beth. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s just that you and Donovan look so happy together. I just wondered.”
“It’s okay.” Beth looked anywhere but at her friend.
Carol reached for another slice of pizza. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. I mean, I hope you’re being careful.”
“Careful about what?”
“Babies.” Carol bit into her pizza, leaving Beth to flush even darker.
“Donovan takes care of that.”
Carol nodded sagely. “That’s what Betty Durbin’s boyfriend told her, and she had to leave school.”
“Donovan is very careful!” The words came out with more of a snap than she’d intended, and she looked around the big room, hoping that no one was close enough to hear what they were saying. Trust Carol to start a conversation like this in public.
She shifted, uneasy with the topic. Staring down at her pizza, she remembered one time when they hadn’t been careful and how angry Donovan had been with himself. Still, one time couldn’t be dangerous. Could it?
#
“Beth, you’re going to be late for school.” In answer to her father’s call, Beth took one last look in the mirror and snatched up her books before hurrying out of her bedroom. She rushed downstairs, where her father was waiting impatiently by the door. His expression softened, as it always did when looking at his daughter.
Patrick Martin still found it hard to believe that this beautiful, vital young woman was his little girl. It seemed like such a short time ago that he’d been struggling to take care of a baby, juggling his work and fatherhood and now here she was, all grown up and so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her.
“Isn’t that skirt a little short?”
Beth glanced down at the white denim miniskirt that ended several inches above her knee and then gave her father the exasperated look that all teenagers perfect early on.
“This is longer than the skirts a lot of the girls are wearing, Daddy.”
“I’m not worried about a lot of the girls.” But he didn’t press the issue. He had to admit that the style suited her. How had those pudgy toddler’s legs slimmed into this?
He picked up his hard hat and briefcase and followed his daughter out the door, giving a cursory check to the lock. There was no crime to speak of in Remembrance. Locks were more of a token gesture than a necessity.
Father and daughter climbed into the Chevy pickup that sat in the driveway. By a long-standing agreement, the radio stayed off. Since Beth wanted to listen to rock and roll and her father wanted to listen to the morning business report, they’d agreed that they wouldn’t listen to anything at all.
Patrick started the truck and backed out of the driveway. “If they’ve fixed the light on Main Street, I should be able to get you to school before the first bell.”
Beth nodded. The silence continued for several blocks. Patrick glanced at his daughter but her eyes were turned to the front, her expression pensive.
“Beth? Something wrong?”
She glanced at him and shook her head. “No.” The silence went on.
“Are you still upset with me over the Sinclair boy? I know you think I’m being unreasonable, but I haven’t forbidden you much over the years. You’ll just have to trust my judgment on this one, honey.”
“I was just thinking about what kind of dress I want for the Homecoming Dance. Carol and I are going shopping tomorrow.”
If he had been watching his daughter instead of watching the road, Patrick might have seen the guilty flush in her cheeks and the way her fingers clenched around the books in her lap. He might also have thought it was a little odd that she’d argued so passionately when he forbade her to see Donovan and now she seemed to have accepted his decision. But he wasn’t looking at her, and he was relieved that she seemed to be taking it so well so he didn’t probe.
“Who are you going with this year?”
Beth shrugged, not looking at him. “I don’t know yet.”
He slowed the truck for the turn into the school and pulled to a stop near the main entrance. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have all kinds of offers.”
Beth scrambled out of the truck without answering. “See you tonight.”
Beth lifted her hand in answer to his wave. The dark blue truck pulled into traffic, passing several parents who were getting their progeny to school even later than Beth.
Beth watched him go, blinking back tears. She’d never expected to feel so guilty about lying to her father. Since her mother’s death when she was a few months old, it had always been her and her father against the world. He’d been her friend as well as her parent.
How could she tell him that she knew exactly who she was going to the Homecoming Dance with? Donovan had promised to take her more than a month ago. Her father would find out, she couldn’t hide her relationship with Donovan forever. Once he understood how much she loved Donovan, he’d see how wrong he’d been.
The final bell rang, startling her out of her thoughts. She turned and sprinted for the entrance. She was going to be late for homeroom, after all.
#
“I don’t think this is such a good idea, Beth. Your father wouldn’t like the idea of you having me in the house when he’s not home.”
“Daddy will never know. He’s not going to be back from Indianapolis until tomorrow afternoon at the earliest. Come on, Donovan. I want you to see my dress.” Beth pulled on his hand, tugging him over the threshold into her bedroom.
Donovan stepped onto the thick, shag carpeting, hoping he didn’t have any grease from the garage on his shoes. The carpet was the palest of pinks. It matched the ruffled curtains and bedspread. The furniture was painted with white enamel. Shelves along one wall held stuffed toys and books. Everything about the room was feminine and spoke of comfort.
Donovan felt as out of place as a buffalo at a wedding. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He didn’t belong in this room. This room spoke of too many things he’d never known: home, family, money.
“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?”
Donovan looked at the dress Beth held up, but he couldn’t have said anything about it. About all that registered was that it was peach colored. What caught his eye was the excitement in Beth’s face. She was so beautiful. What could she possibly see in him?
“It’s really nice.” He hoped he’d said the right thing. Beth seemed content. She hung the dress back up and shut the closet door.
“I can’t wait till the dance. I bet you look gorgeous in a suit.” She sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her.
“I’ll bet I look like an idiot.” Donovan reluctantly took the place beside her. Beth snuggled against his side and he put his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t you think we should leave now?”
She put her hand on his chest, working it inside the open front of his shirt, feeling the catch in his breathing when she touched him.
“Don’t you like my room?”
“It’s...it’s beautiful.” He slid his hand into her hair, tilting her head back until their eyes met. “You’re beautiful. I just don’t want to get you in trouble.” His mouth touched hers, lingering in a slow kiss.
“I told you, Daddy won’t be home until tomorrow.”
His hand slid inside the neck of her peasant blouse, feeling the satiny skin of her shoulders, tracing the delicate line of her collarbone.
“What about the neighbors?”
“They aren’t home.” She lifted her mouth to his, feeling her bones melt like butter left out in the sun. He was everything she’d ever dreamed of; everything she’d ever want. His hands slid across her back as he leaned forward, lowering her slowly.
The mattress yielded beneath their combined weight. Donovan pushed the loose neckline down and let his lips trace the satiny skin of her shoulders. Beth closed her eyes, shutting out the familiar bedroom walls, shutting out everything but the feel of him against her.
He felt so right.
“Do you love me, Donovan?”
“Always.” The word ghosted out against her breast. Beth’s fingers slid-into the silky, black hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. “I’ll love you always, Beth.”
And she didn’t doubt that it was true.
#
The late-September sun blazed down, but there was a melancholy feeling in the air that bespoke the end of summer. The leaves on the maple trees were turning colors, the brilliant green fading. It wouldn’t be long until winter.
Beth felt as if winter had already arrived. There was a cold, heavy lump in her chest. She shut the door of Dr. Morrison’s office behind her with a careful click and turned to walk blindly down the street.
At ten o’clock in the morning on a weekday, Remembrance was quiet. Inside the brick and wood buildings, people were doing business, but the streets were quiet. Beth wouldn’t have noticed if a parade had been marching down Main. She walked without thought, her mind a blank.
It wasn’t until she stumbled over a curb that she noticed her surroundings. The park was completely empty, the wrought-iron benches gathering the last of summer’s sun as if preparing for winter’s onslaught. Beth sat down. Her eyes were focused on the lake, but she wasn’t seeing the cool water.
Pregnant. The word echoed in her mind. Pregnant. She couldn’t get beyond that single fact. She was carrying Donovan’s baby. She wrapped her arms around her waist, closing her eyes. It just didn’t seem real. She couldn’t be pregnant. Not from just one mistake. They’d always been so careful.
What was Donovan going to say? And her father? Oh God, how could she tell her father? She bit her lip to stop a whimper.
What was she going to do?
She stood up. She couldn’t stay here. There was too much chance of seeing someone she knew. There would be questions to answer, and she couldn’t deal with questions.
She turned toward home but stopped after taking a few steps. She couldn’t go home. Her father wouldn’t be there, but if one of the neighbors saw her they would want to know what was wrong. They’d ask if she was sick. A hysterical laugh threatened to escape. Sick? If only it was that simple.
She turned in the opposite direction, her feet moving automatically. She would go to Donovan’s. He would be at work, but he’d shown her how to climb in the window of his rented room.
It took her ten minutes to reach the little back street and Donovan’s worn-down building. She slipped off her shoes and jammed them in her fringed suede purse. The tree was just where it had always been, and it was the work of only a few minutes to climb to the branch that reached Donovan’s window. She slid onto the warped floorboards, feeling as if she’d reached a sanctuary.
Donovan had only brought her here twice. He’d never said as much but Beth knew that he was ashamed of the place. She stood in the middle of the room for a long moment, just breathing. No one would find her here. No one was expecting her anywhere until after the school day ended, and she’d told her father she might be going home with Carol, so that gave her even more time.
And she needed the time. She needed every second. She set her purse down in the corner. Today Donovan worked until midafternoon. That gave her a few hours until he’d be home. She’d have a little time to decide what she was going to say to him.
How was she going to tell him? She was pregnant. Right now she couldn’t get beyond that one, blinding fact. She was going to have Donovan’s baby. She sat down on the bed, feeling the mattress sag beneath her. They’d never talked about children. She loved Donovan, she wanted to marry him. In her world, love and marriage generally added up to children. But not like this. Never like this.
This kind of thing happened to other girls. Girls who had to leave school. Girls no one talked about. This didn’t happen to Beth Martin. It just didn’t. She wrapped her arms over her stomach and leaned forward, closing her eyes. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make it real.
Tears welled up. She tried to blink them back, but they wouldn’t be denied. The dingy little room swam in front of her, and a harsh sob escaped. What was Donovan going to say? Would he hate her? She could bear anything but that.
She lay down, her arms still wrapped around herself, her face buried in Donovan’s pillow. Donovan would know what to do. He always knew what to do. She had to believe that this time wouldn’t be any different.