Any Thursday (Donovans of the Delta) by Peggy Webb

until she gets hold of you. You’re not a spring chicken anymore, yourself, baby brother.”
    “I can handle Aunt Agnes. I’ll just invite her to go hang gliding. She’ll be too scared to give advice.”
    Hannah roared with laughter. “Remember that Christmas you took her up in your balloon? She gave Pop hell for months about raising such a daredevil.”
    “It wasn’t half as bad as the tangent she went on when she caught you out behind the barn smoking a pipe.”
    A brief image of Jim with his pipe came to her mind. She firmly pushed it aside. “I never did get the hang of that.” Hannah squeezed his hand. “Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? How did you come anyway? Your Cessna? Your balloon?”
    “Learjet. Mine. Johnson’s flight came in right after I landed, and he gave me a lift. I didn’t want to wake anybody this early. Especially not Hallie. They say a bride needs her beauty sleep.”
    “I wouldn’t know.”
    “Neither would I.”
    They looked at each other in the early dawn, a brother and sister whose special bond needed no words. Finally Jacob spoke.
    “What does one do on his sister’s wedding day, Hannah?”
    She glanced upward toward Jim’s window, then turned back to her brother.
    “Run like hell.”
    “My sentiments exactly.”
    Jacob tossed his duffel bag onto the porch, then the two of them sprinted down the driveway, turned east, and raced into the sun.

 
     
    CHAPTER SIX
    Hallie’s wedding was at two o’clock in the afternoon.
    Jim sat in the back of the church, watching. The bride was beautiful, the groom was handsome, and everybody looked happy. It was an occasion of great joy, but he felt like hell. Standing at the front of the church was the reason—Hannah Donovan. With her madonna smile and her sedate lace and pearls, she almost made him believe she wasn’t the same sultry woman who’d come to his room the previous night and finished destroying every dream he’d ever had about a sweet old-fashioned girl.
    “Do you take this woman . . .”
    The minister’s voice penetrated Jim’s consciousness. Do you take this woman? His gaze burned over Hannah. Yes, he thought, he’d take that woman. He’d take her in the pasture behind her house, in the hayloft, in her bed, in his bed. He’d take her anywhere he could get her. He’d even take her to San Francisco if she’d come. But then what? She was as wedded to her career in that godforsaken wilderness as he was to his in the big city.
    “Will you love her and cherish her, honor and keep her, till death do you part. . . .”
    Who was he kidding? Jim mocked himself. He could no more have a future with that wildcat than he could stop breathing. With him and Hannah, it would be till the next assignment do us part or the next job in Sri Lanka. Hell, it might even be till the next boat out of the harbor. Who knew? He could turn out to be just like his old man. It was best to catch his four o’clock plane out of Greenville and never look back.
    He managed not to cross paths with Hannah during the reception back at the Donovan home. He considered that he was getting pretty good at avoiding her. He’d managed it ever since the gut-ripping confrontation of the night before. Standing in the library with the celebrating Donovans milling about, he glanced down at his watch. Almost time to leave. He’d thank Anna and Matthew for the hospitality, then be on his way.
    He made it all the way up to his bedroom. His hand was on his bag when he heard her voice.
    “Leaving without saying goodbye, Jim?”
    Joy surged through him, then panic, then a great sense of destiny. Turning slowly, he saw Hannah. She was standing in the doorway, still wearing lace and pearls.
    “You look good enough to eat.” He crossed the room in three quick strides, pulled her into his arms, and shut the door. He could feel her heart hammering against his chest. “And I plan to.”
    “Is that a challenge?” Her hands skimmed his face.
    He tipped her