Donovan (9 page)

I said
nothing, realizing that his regret was genuine. Donovan would never have a
chance to make amends, to reunite with his dad and enjoy a future with him. I
did feel some empathy for him over that, but at the same time was not yet ready
to forgive him completely for just turning his back on everything, and
everyone, that he had left behind.

"I
also regret leaving you like I did," he said.

He looked
at me, his expression serious, his eyes riveted to mine. "I've been a fucking
fool. It's as simple as that. I've thrown away some of the best things, the
best people, that I've ever had in my life. There's no coming back from
that."

I felt a
surge of emotion and swallowed hard. I blinked back the warm tears that flooded
my eyes. He could have no idea the impact his words had on me at that moment.
Perhaps I was just feeling vulnerable. Perhaps it was the beer, which, I
realized quite to my surprise, was almost gone. I glanced down at the glass,
then up at him, but there was really nothing to say. He finished off his beer
and looked at me, eyebrows raised.

"Another?"

I thought
about it a moment and then shrugged.
"Why the hell
not?"
He wasn’t the only one burdened with regrets. His words had
caused me to take a good look at myself and my poor decisions of the past – and
present. Donovan caught Gina's attention and made a motion for two more beers.
Gina was quick to respond, and in moments had placed two new frosted mugs of
foaming beer on our table. She glanced pointedly at me. I made a slight gesture
with my head, indicating that I was fine, and, satisfied, she walked back to
the kitchen with our dirty glasses.

"So,"
Donovan asked after taking a sip of his new beer. "What have you been
doing with yourself for the past eight years?"

I took a
sip of my own beer and then looked out the window.
"Working."

"No
man in your life?"

I glanced
at him, wondering if I should even answer that question. "Nothing
serious," I said shortly.
"You?"

For a
moment, a grin flashed across his features. "Man in my life?" He
shook his head. "No, no man in my life."

I rolled
my eyes. "You know what I meant."

He nodded.
"Yeah, I did. No meaningful relationships."

"Where
have you been all these years?" I found myself asking, despite telling
myself not to even express any curiosity whatsoever.

"I’ve
been living in New York City," he replied.

"Doing
what?" I asked.

"I
own and manage a few gyms,” he said.

I sat
back, surprised. I don't know what I had expected him to be doing all this
time, but a gym owner was not it. "They have gyms in New York City?"
I asked, only slightly tongue-in-cheek.

He nodded.
"It took me a while, but I've done okay for myself."

I didn't
want to appear too interested, so I nodded and left it at that. "Things
are pretty much the same around here as they've always been," I said.
"But that suits me just fine. Once in a while I go down to Amarillo, but I
prefer it here."

He nodded.
"I'd forgotten how quiet and tranquil it is out here. In New York City,
everyone's always coming or going, twenty-four hours a day. It's never
quiet."

I continued
to sip my beer, more than aware that he had failed to broach the topic I most
wanted answers for. Why hadn’t he kept in touch? Each of us made small talk,
neither one of us wanting to broach more serious topics of discussion. Finally,
as I neared the end of my second beer, I started to feel a little woozy. "Shit,
I don't think I should drive home." I glared at him accusingly.

"Not
to worry," he said. "I'll take you."

I shook my
head. "No, you won't. I'll just have to get something to eat and drink
some coffee before I head out." I suddenly remembered my excuse.
"Either that, or I'll just hang out here to help Gina."

"No
need," he said. "Let me take you home."

I shook my
head. "Dates are supposed to start and end here," I said. He stared
at me for several moments, and then finished off his own beer.
 

"Have
it your way."

"What's
that supposed to mean?" I said, his comment raising my hackles.
"Since when has anything ever been my way?"

"Memphis,
I didn't mean anything by that—"

I don't
know if it was the beer that had gotten to my head, or my irritation with him,
but all of a sudden, my mouth was gushing and I couldn't seem to shut it.
"Give me one good reason why you never came back to visit your family… to
visit me!"

"Memphis,
I—"

"You
don't have a good reason, do you?" I challenged. I couldn't stop now even
if I had wanted to. "No, you just up and left, and wrote us all out of
your life without so much as a good-bye!"

"Memphis,
I understand where you're coming from, but—"

I couldn't
take it. Choking back a sob from the sudden rush of emotions that overwhelmed
me, I stood, jostling the table as I did so. The pain, the hurt, the
humiliation, and most of all, the sadness of my lost relationship with Donovan
took me by surprise and almost brought me to my knees with grief. I had to
leave before I crumbled in front of him. Before he could say anything, I turned
and quickly headed toward the front door of the restaurant, unable to face him
one second longer.

Chapter 9

Donovan

For a
moment I sat frozen at the table, not sure whether I should go after Memphis or
leave her alone. She wanted a reason for why I had left, but it wasn't quite as
black and white as that. Any answer I could give her wouldn't be simple. With a
sigh, I gestured to Gina, who had emerged from the kitchen and was ostensibly
making herself busy cleaning behind the bar although I had a feeling she was
more curious about what was going on between Memphis and me than cleaning. She
came over to the table as I pulled my wallet from my back pocket and pulled out
a twenty, which I knew would cover the cost of our beers.

"Keep
the rest," I said. Without glancing at her again, I stood and headed for
the door. To my surprise, Memphis had not headed straight for her car, but
stood at one corner of the building, looking out into the distance. There was
really nothing out there, as the Chit Chat restaurant was situated outside of
Bolger, surrounded by the flatlands of the Texas Panhandle.

She heard
me approach and quickly swiped her hand over her eyes before turning to face
me. Despite the fact that I could tell that she had been crying, she showed no
sign of tears now. To the contrary, her jaw had hardened and her eyes flashed
with anger. I guess I couldn't blame her. My leaving Texas had more than likely
destroyed her dreams, and perhaps even her heart. Still, I doubted that she had
remained in Stinnett pining for me for the past eight years. She was beautiful,
smart, had a great
personality,
and she was a
go-getter. There had always been men swarming around her, although, at least in
my past experience, she had not shown much interest. What
had
happened
during the past eight years I had no idea, nor was it my place
to ask.

"I'm fucking
sorry, Memphis," I said, knowing that those words were inadequate. There
was nothing else I could say.

"I'm
so frustrated with you, Donovan! You can’t even explain it to me. You don't
have any excuses for not coming back, even for a visit, do you?"

"Memphis—"

"No!
You don't understand. Do you have any idea what kind of impact
your
leaving had on your family?
On me?"

Before I
could open my mouth, she continued.

"Your
mom cried for months, did you know that?" she accused. "Your dad kept
himself busy, but he would scowl and mutter under his breath any time your name
was mentioned. In your absence, everyone has moved on with their lives. Cameron
is relatively successful with his shop, and Tammy and Julie each have
relationships that may even turn into marriage in the near future. Do you know
any of that?"

I shook my
head. How could I know? Not only had I not made any effort to stay involved
with the family after my leaving, but my family had obviously felt the same
way. Plus, my mother never mentioned it.

"And
Shane... did you know that Shane always had aspirations of taking over the
ranch?"

Again, I
could only shake my head. "He will, won't he?"

Memphis shook
her head. "No, your father made it plain that Shane didn't have what it
took to run the ranch. Oh, he's a good enough
ranch
hand, and seems perfectly happy living in the bunkhouse with the other men,
and, although I do admit that he doesn't have much of a head for business, he
does know cattle, horses, and is familiar with most of the ranch
operations."

"So
what's he going to do?"

Memphis
glared up at me.

"How
the hell do I know?” she exclaimed. "I may be close to your family, but
I'm certainly not privy to a lot of the private conversations and decisions
that are made around there. I was hired to help your dad with the books because
Shane had no head for the numbers and Cameron was busy getting his own business
off the ground and didn't have the time to commit that was necessary."

"Memphis,
I'm not sure I know what you want me to say," I began. "I—"

"I
don't want you to say anything, Donovan," she said. "I'm just trying
to make you understand that your leaving had a big impact on everyone."
She paused and glanced down at her feet, then back up. "It had a big
impact on me too. But make no mistake, Donovan, I moved on. I had to. I had no
other choice."

I tried
again. "Memphis, leaving wasn't especially easy for me either, but—"

She
slashed her hand down at empty air. "I don’t even know if you can come up
with an excuse that can rationalize your lack of communication and your refusal
to even pop in once in a while." Her voice broke. "Oh, I always knew
you wanted to explore the world outside of Stinnett, and I certainly don't
blame you for that. But I just don't see any rationale for your not being more
involved with your brothers and sisters. I can understand the argument between
you and your dad about sticking around and someday taking over the ranch. What
I can't understand is how you can turn your back on an entire family just
because you had difficulties with one person in it!"

What was I
supposed to say? "It was a long time ago, Memphis," I began slowly.
"At the time, I thought I was doing the right thing, staying out of the
way, keeping a low profile, and over the years, it just became easier and I—"

She shook
her head. "Well I'm glad it became easier for you, because it certainly
hasn't been easy for anyone here. You wanted to know why I agreed to keep Frank's
secret regarding the status of the ranch, and maybe now you understand a little
more. Your mom was already going through enough, and she's not a spring chicken
anymore. Everyone around here does their best to keep her stress levels down
for her health—"

I broke
in. "Is she sick?"

Memphis
close
her eyes and sighed. "No, she's not
sick,
at least I don't think she is. But she is getting a
little more forgetful, and it doesn't take much to get her stressed out and
anxious anymore, and I'm sure you've seen that. Everyone bends over backwards
to make sure that your mom has a calm environment. Why?
Because
we all love her.
Because we all care.
Because
we don't want to make her life any more difficult than it has to be. And now
that Frank has passed, I'm afraid that your mom's going to experience some
difficulties in accepting that loss, as well as the loss of any sense of
stability she's had in the past."

I frowned.
Sure, who wouldn't worry about one's mother after her spouse passed away,
especially after such a long relationship? However, my mom was no weak-kneed
ninny
.
 
She was
strong, physically and emotionally. During my years growing up I had seen her
help brand the cattle, drive a truck filled with hay bales for the horses and
the cows in the middle of a winter blizzard, and stand toe-to-toe with any
number of individuals who gave her grief.

“I have to
go—“

She turned
to walk away but I stopped her. "Regardless of what you may think,
Memphis, I do love my family. Why do you think I came back—?" She turned
and glared up at me, hands on her hips.
 

"Tell
me, Donovan, exactly why
did you come
back?” she
demanded. “Why did it have to take a death to bring you back after all these
years?"
 

The words
erupted from me before I could stop them.
"Because it
would have been too damn hard to leave if I had come back before!"

"What—"

"You
weren’t the only one that hurt after I left," I said, my voice low with
emotion as I towered over her. She stared up at me with wide-eyed surprise.
"It was hard to leave, to leave you behind. I missed my family. I missed
you every day. My heart ached for you, every day. But don't you understand? I
had to leave! I had to at least try, and then—"