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Authors: Vanessa Stone

Donovan (6 page)

BOOK: Donovan
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Following
the farewells by my family, the casket was closed. The pallbearers took their
places and proceeded down the aisle of the church, ready for the burial service
at the nearby cemetery. Grasping my mother's elbow gently, we proceeded down
the aisle to the entrance of the church. As we turned, I saw Memphis sitting a
few pews behind where we had sat, tears staining her cheeks. She looked up at
me, her expression one of intense sorrow. She nodded slightly at me, and I
acknowledged her. Then, my mind focused on the burial, I walked out of the
church, my heart thudding dully with every step I took.

 

Chapter 6

Memphis

It'd been
three days since Frank Sanderson's funeral, and I hadn't heard from, or seen, Donovan
since then. Of course, I had done my best to stay away from the ranch, knowing
that Donovan was staying there, coupled with the fact that it was a time for
family. While the others might have considered me part of the family, I knew I
wasn't, and didn't want to intrude on this private time. Instead, I kept myself
busy picking up a few extra shifts at work. Now that I didn't have the
bookkeeping job for the Rocking S anymore, I would have to start looking for
something else to supplement my income.

I didn't
need much. I rented a studio apartment just outside of town, and I was
perfectly comfortable there. In fact, I probably could've gotten by with what I
made at the restaurant as a waitress, but I was trying to tuck some money away
for a rainy day. That was pretty much my motto: never put off ‘til tomorrow
what I could do today. I liked to stay busy and didn't like a lot of down time.
Of course, I didn't really have anyone to spend my down time with so maybe that
made all the difference in the world. When I had dated Donovan so many years
ago, I had enjoyed wiling away hours of the day in his company, but that was no
longer feasible.

I was on
my way to work, though I wasn’t actually scheduled to work this evening. The
Chit Chat was hosting a charity event, and I had already committed to
participating. It was a rather interesting concept that Gina had come up with,
broached and discussed with the other waitresses, and upon their full agreement
and enthusiasm, had been brought up to the manager. Surprisingly, he agreed.

The
charity event was to raise money for our local hospital, which was pitifully
small by most standards, though an essential and important component of our
community. With only ten beds, the hospital had a small, one-bay emergency
room, a small x-ray department, and a small lab. The charity event was to help
the hospital with the purchase of some sonography equipment so that community
residents, especially pregnant women, didn't have to drive all the way down to
Amarillo for sonograms. The equipment would also be beneficial for the doctors
of the community for use in diagnostic imaging of joint, muscle and tendon
injuries, as well as utilized for cardiac patients, again saving them the trip
down to Amarillo.

While I
was certainly on board with the reason for the charity event, I wasn't quite
sure I like the idea of how the funds were going to be raised. As it turned
out, the waitresses, including myself, had all volunteered to be part of the
event in the terms that we would be considered the "reward
".
How it was all going to work out, I wasn't sure. The
premise was similar to an auction, and bidders would bid on winning five dates
with any of the waitresses who had volunteered to take part in the charity
event. I wasn't sure I was open to the idea of being bid on like I was a
horse,
but then again, the premise in the region was nothing
new. In the old days, such auctions had been held for everything from picnic
boxed lunches or dinners to tickets to community as well as special events in
Amarillo.

The Chit
Chat was closed for the evening in order to host the charity. I wasn't sure of
the turnout, but I had noticed the fliers for the event stapled up on telephone
poles and placed in shop windows throughout Stinnett as well as Bolger for the
past several days. It was all in good fun, but at the same time, I wondered about
safety. Gina had assured me that all the "dates" with winning bidders
would be in public places, and the bidders were not to pick up the girls at
their own homes, but at the Chit Chat restaurant or some other highly public
location, and return them there within a specific time frame. It seemed
innocent enough, and to be honest, I had never heard of any incident in either
Stinnett or Bolger that gave me cause to worry with this planned charity
benefit and auction.

I smiled
as I drove down the nearly deserted road just before dusk. With my luck, some
old man would win the bid for me, which I didn't really mind. At the same time,
it would be nice if the high bidder for my dates
was
younger and able to provide me with some distractions and entertainments that
would take my mind off Frank, and naturally, Donovan's continued presence in
town.

I had
called the ranch a couple of days ago to check up on Lisa, and Tammy had told
me a friend of Donovan's named Damien had flown in from New York City with Donovan,
but had stayed the night before in Amarillo.
Later, after the
burial service, the guy had shown up at the ranch, but would stay the night at
a local hotel in town.
Apparently, the two were good friends and Damien
was proving somewhat effective as a buffer between Donovan and his family.
Tammy had laughed when she said the two had gone off to help Shane brand a few
cattle the day before, and while Donovan was perfectly at home doing so, Damien
was as out of place as a fish out of water. He was a good sport though, and had
laughed at his lack of knowledge and know-how when it came to ranch activities.

I wondered
when Donovan would head back to the city. What did he do there? Did he have a
family? I couldn’t hold back the questions, but Tammy didn’t have answers to
any of them. I shook my head, telling myself that it didn’t matter.
Donovan was in town to attend his father's funeral, and as soon as
it was "decent" I had no doubt that he would disappear once again,
back to wherever he came from.

Tammy had
told me that Donovan had been living in New York City for the
past few years though, which
surprised me. New York City was
just about as far away and
as different than
Stinnett
as one could possibly get. I still didn't know what Donovan had been doing with
himself all these years, or how he was employed, or even if he was married, and
I didn't ask. Despite my questions, Tammy could obviously sense my reticence
about Donovan and kept it simple, which only served to allow my imagination to
run wild.

By the
time I pulled into the dirt parking lot of the Chit Chat restaurant, my eyes
widened in surprise. It was packed! While the number of people in attendance
would certainly bode well for the charity, I wasn't sure how it would bode for
us girls who had agreed to be the "prizes
".
Gina was sure to love it, but I was beginning to regret my decision to partake.

I parked
my car, climbed out, and walked into the back door of the restaurant, nodding
my hello to the cooks busily cleaning up and shutting down for the evening. A
cluster of waitresses stood by the swinging door that led from the kitchen into
the dining area, giggling. Gina saw me and waved me over.

"You
wouldn't believe how many guys are out there!" she exclaimed.

"I
would venture to say that every eligible male in the county is out there,"
laughed a young waitress named Laura.

Curious, I
stepped to the door and pushed it slightly open, surprised again when I looked
out and saw the place packed with laughing men of all ages. I raised an
eyebrow. "I'm not sure anymore if this is such a good idea," I
commented to Gina. "Are you sure all these guys
know
the rules?"

"The
sheriff and Jerry are out there explaining the rules," she said.

As if on
cue, Jerry, the manager of the Chit Chat, welcomed all the bidders on the other
side of the door and then without ado began to lay out the ground rules. The
sheriff followed up with his own stern reminder that all the rules were to be
followed to the letter to avoid repercussions. I didn't think there would be
any trouble, as our two communities were very low in crime. I was sure that
neither Jerry nor the sheriff would allow any strangers in town to bid on our
"date packages
".

Without
further delays, the bidding began. First it was Laura's turn, and after her
name was called and she walked out the swinging door, her presence was met with
a loud cheer. The bidding started and grew quite boisterous, coupled with much
laughter and teasing until the allotted five dates with her were procured and
paid for. Gina was next, accompanied by the same boisterous, cheerful and
enthusiastic crowd. Then, I heard my name called.

"The
next young lady up for your consideration is none other than our very own
Memphis Leonard! Come on out, Memphis!"

With a
sigh and rolling my eyes at the waitresses clustered around me, I pasted a
smile on my face and pushed open the swinging door. Another rush of enthusiastic
cheers greeted me. I was stunned by the number of men in the room. Before I had
even taken my position between the sheriff and Jerry, the bidding began.

"Fifty
dollars!”
came
a bid from the front.

I looked
at the cluster of men near the front of the crowd and had to smile.
If it wasn't old man Garrett to open the bidding.
I smiled
at him and he laughed. Another bid came in from the middle of the crowd and to
the left.

“Sixty
dollars!”

Before I
could even look in that direction, two more bids came in. Before I knew it a
voice called out "one hundred dollars!" The voice came from the back
of the crowd, muffled by the uproarious laughter encouraging the bidders.

“One
hundred-ten dollars!"
I held back my laughter at the enthusiasm of old man
Garrett’s voice.

“One
hundred-fifty dollars!”
came
the voice from the back
of the room again.
 

My eyes
widened in surprise. This bidding was getting quite serious, which certainly
boded well for the hospital, but most of the men in this audience worked really
hard for their wages, and I could hardly see many of them willing to part with
so much for a mere five dates with me.

"One
hundred-seventy-five!"
came
a voice off to my right,
followed immediately by the voice in the back.

"Two
hundred-fifty dollars!”

When no
additional bids were immediately forthcoming, the sheriff questioned the crowd.
“Any other takers?"
No other bids were offered,
so the sheriff, playing the auctioneer shouted over the noise.
"Two hundred-fifty dollars, going once, going twice,
done!"
He gestured toward the back of the room. "Come on up
young man, and claim your dates with the lovely Memphis Leonard!"

I smiled
at the sheriff and then turned to watch as the crowd parted to allow the man
who had won the winning bid
make
his way to the front
of the room. My smile faltered, and I froze. It was Donovan. What the hell was
he doing here? I glanced at Jerry, and then at the sheriff, and gave a slight
shake of my head.

"No,"
I gasped. I was filled with disbelief and stunned amazement. Within a matter of
moments, Donovan stood before me, grinning. "No," I muttered again,
shaking my head.

Donovan
pulled out his wallet, removed some cash, and handed it to the sheriff. Then,
he turned to me. "Memphis," he said, offering his hand.

He was
fucking loving this.

"No,"
I said again, shaking my head, not loud enough for anyone but him to hear.
"You can't be serious"

"I'm
perfectly serious," he said. "Remember, it's for charity."

I turned
once again to Jerry and the sheriff, who abruptly gestured for me to leave the
so-called stage area to make room for the next waitress to come out.

“The next
lovely lady doing her part for our charity is none other than Miss Sally Mae
Jenkins!” Again, excited cheers and laughter greeted her emergence from the
kitchen area.

Donovan
gently grasped my hand and guided me through the crowd toward the front door. "Donovan,
this isn't—"

"I
bid fair and square," he said. "So you're not going to renege on your
deal, are you?"

"But Donovan,
really, this isn’t necessary!" I stammered as we walked out of the bar and
grill, the bidding going hot and heavy for Sally Mae. "You could’ve just
called on me—"

"How
was I supposed to do that?" he asked. "I haven't seen you since the
funeral, and you haven't been by the ranch."

"This
is a private time for you and your family," I insisted. "I'm not
about to intrude on such a personal thing."

He led me
toward the side of the building, still within sight of the well-lit windows facing
the parking lot. "Shane told me that you've been doing the books for my
dad for the past few years."

"That's
right," I said. "Again, that's something that could have been
discussed without you having to bid on me for this charity auction."

BOOK: Donovan
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