Destiny's Dream

by Delia Latham

  She couldn’t look at him. If she did, she would laugh out loud. There’d be no stopping her. Desperately, she peered around him and across the aisle, where Jenna and Dr. Bob both stared back with raised eyebrows. Their disapproving expressions should have sobered her, but for some reason, their furrowed brows had the opposite effect. She turned away and took several deep breaths, finally gaining control of herself before sneaking a peek at the man beside her.

  He studied the photo of Destiny’s mother as if hoping to change the face he saw there. Finally, he turned to face Destiny, and she decided those gray eyes of his had to be the most expressive pair of peepers she had ever seen.

  “That’s not Aunt Betty up there, is it?” Two minutes ago, she would have taken great pleasure in his obvious humiliation. Now she realized, with utter amazement, that she felt sorry for him. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and shook her head.

  “Who, then?”

  She drew a deep breath. “My mother. Margie May.”

  “Your mother?” He groaned as loudly as the occasion would permit. “I’m so sorry!”

  “There will be no funeral procession.” That was Pastor, making a final announcement. “Our dear sister requested no accompaniment of friends and family to the graveside. She asked that I invite you all, instead, to join her in Heaven. Her specific words were these: ‘They’ll find me on the other side of Jordan, close as I can get to the King.’”

  It was over. At long last. The huge man at her side stood when she did and extended a hand, his expression so abject that Destiny couldn’t hold back an impetuous giggle. She took his massive paw just as Jenna and Dr. Bob appeared at her side.

  Jenna started in first. “Destiny May, what in the w—?”

  “Gallagher?” Dr. Bob interrupted, his curious gaze on the big man still holding Destiny’s hand.

  Destiny’s pew partner raked a hand through his thick, already disheveled hair and sighed. “Bob.”

  “What—?” Her brother-in-law shook his head. “Did you know Margie?”

  “Long story, man. I’ll bring you up to speed on the green.”

  “Bob?” Jenna’s tight voice revealed her impatience with the whole situation.

  Her husband pulled her into the circle of one arm. “Clay Gallagher, I’d like you to meet my wife, Jenna. Honey, I’m sure you’ve heard of Gallagher Investments.”

  Jenna’s nod lacked any warmth or welcome. “Of course.”

  “Apparently you already know Destiny,” Bob continued.

  “I do now.”

  Destiny realized she was still holding Clay Gallagher’s hand in a death grip. Mortified, she started to loosen her hold, but then her gaze fell on the crowd lining up behind her sister and Dr. Bob. All these people, waiting to greet her…kiss her cheek…pull her into suffocating hugs…offer their well-meaning condolences.

  No. Panic shortened her breath and darkened her vision, and she knew without a single doubt that she could not do the expected thing and face this crowd. Not today.

  “Are you OK?” The man Dr. Bob called Gallagher squeezed her hand, and she bit back a frantic cry.

  Taking a fresh grip on his fingers, she forced a small smile. “Jenna, I can’t be here. I have to go.” Her voice shook, and she felt the tremble echoed within every nerve in her body.

  “What are you talking about?” Her sister’s eyes widened in shock. “You have to be here!”

  Destiny shook her head, fighting off a wave of smothering panic, and bent to plant a kiss on Jenna’s smooth cheek. “You and Jemmy can handle this one. Please…” She tried to convey her absolute need to escape as she met her sister’s horrified gaze. “I’m sorry, Jen. I really can’t do this. I just…I can’t!”

  She whirled around and tugged Clay Gallagher along as she dashed down the side aisle and out the door that was, thankfully, mere feet away. It was suddenly imperative that she not have to deal with all the friends and family who would be lining up to express their condolences. Just this once, Jenna and Jeremy could be the responsible siblings. When she was emotionally stronger, she would do whatever it took to make amends.

  Breathless, she paused in the parking lot and looked up at the big man following her like a huge, confused puppy. “You know my brother-in-law?”

  He nodded, his expression glum. “Not well, but we play the occasional round of golf. Hey, look, I’m so sorry about intruding on your mother’s funeral like that. I feel like the biggest knucklehead around.”

  She choked back another burst of inappropriate merriment and shook her head. “It’s OK, I think I understand. Look, Clay Gallagher, I don’t really know you, and I don’t as a rule go running off with strangers. But I assure you Dr. Bob won’t forget who I was with when I left the church, so I feel pretty safe this time.” She glanced around the parking lot, and every nerve ending she possessed vibrated with the movement. “Where’s your car?”

  At his startled expression, she glared at him. “I need coffee, Gallagher! I need it now—and you owe me that much, don’t you think, after crashing my mother’s funeral like that? Now which of these wheels belongs to you?”

  Destiny's Dream

  2

  An hour later, she nursed a cup of steaming coffee and watched Clay polish off a gigantic slice of apple pie. He swiped a napkin across his lips, tossed it on top of his plate and pushed it to the edge of the table for the waitress to pick up.

  “Now that was good pie!” He picked up his own mug and settled back to enjoy the strong black brew.

  They each spent a few moments on their cell phones enroute to the diner. Destiny told her brother not to worry, she was with a friend and would be fine. She planned to join the family back at Mama’s house, but she might be a couple of hours getting there. She hung up on his mystified questions, which she’d only have to answer again when she got home.

  Clay’s side of the call he made to his mother was more interesting.

  Destiny had peered out the passenger window while he talked, hoping to appear caught up in watching Spring’s paintbrush color the foliage and flowers along the way. She did enjoy the spectacle—trees whose bare branches had bent beneath the weight of ice and snow a month ago now danced in a gentle breeze, glorious green leaves reaching for the sunshine. California poppies burst into view in dazzling clusters, their orange petals nudging a smile, even on a day when her heart ached from saying good-bye. Without a doubt, the view had its merits, but Destiny’s ears were tuned to the one-sided conversation going on inside the car.

  Judging by her escort’s guarded comments, Mama Gallagher had been less than pleased to hear he had attended the funeral down the road from Aunt Betty’s.

  “Let me get this straight.” Destiny squinted over her mug, piecing together overheard snippets of conversation from the car with bits of the surprisingly comfortable chat they’d enjoyed over pie and coffee. “Aunt Betty’s not even your aunt?”

  “Well, yeah, she is—once removed. She’s my mother’s aunt.”

  “And she was…how old?”

  “Well, we all thought she was ninety-one until she died, but her birth certificate puts her at almost ninety-seven.” He rolled his eyes. “No wonder the old fossil was so hard to get along with.”

  Destiny chuckled. “That’s not very nice. Come on, she couldn’t have been that bad.”

  “Oh, yes, she could.” His eyebrows shot upward while his face took on a pained expression. “Aunt Betty terrorized my family for decades. I know she was lonely, but…” He shook his head and exhaled in an expressive little burst of air. “Betty Marsden could’ve stricken fear in the hearts of die-hard Mafia men, if she had a mind to. She never married. Mom says there was a rumor that she was ‘betrothed’ once upon a time, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t picture the old gal ever being a sappy, love-struck young maiden.”

  Destiny tried to imagine living ninety-seven years without ever having someone special to care for. A soft shudder shook her body. I’m thirty-one, and no love interest
anywhere on the horizon. Will the twins and Jeremy’s little one be saying things like this about me when I die?

  “Poor lady. She really had no family of her own, did she?” She looked up into her new friend’s face. Funny, he seemed much more handsome now. “How sad her life must have been. I would imagine, having lived so long, that most, if not all, of her immediate family died before her.”

  “And you’d be right.” He nodded, and gazed off into the distance. “My mother was her closest living relative. She only had one sibling—my grandmother, who passed away fifteen years ago. Mom always felt responsible for Aunt Betty. She insisted my brother and I treat her with respect and consideration, if only in light of her age.” He laughed, a haze of reminiscence shadowing his gray gaze. “Carson wouldn’t play the game. He and Aunt Betty mixed about as well as oil and water. I don’t think he’d been to her place over a couple times in the past five years.”

  “And you?” Destiny wasn’t sure why, but she suspected Clay’s callous attitude was more bluster than he cared to let on.

  He shrugged a shoulder, and his lips twisted into a crooked grin. “I gave her back whatever she dished out.” A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Oddly enough, she seemed to like me—at least, as much as Aunt Betty liked anybody. We tossed barbs at each other once a week when I visited, and the few times I couldn’t make it, she’d call and give me a hard time about it.”

  “You liked her!” The accusation burst from her lips. She’d been watching him talk, and instinct told her Clay Gallagher was a hypocrite. For all his disrespectful comments, he had loved the old woman whose funeral he missed.

  His eyes widened. “Liked her? Nobody liked Betty Marsden!”

  “You did.”

  Picking up his mug, he lifted it to his lips and eyed her over the rim. But he didn’t offer a denial, so she cocked her head and gave him half a smile. “I’m really sorry you missed her farewell service.”

  He shook his head. “Yeah, well, I assure you it wouldn’t have been nearly as enjoyable as your mother’s. For one thing, I doubt there were enough people at Aunt Betty’s service to fill two rows.” A gentle smile softened the tough lines of his face, and Destiny’s tummy did an unexpected little clenching number. “Your mother had a lot of friends. She must have been an exceptional person.”

  “She was.”

  “You said you’ve been taking care of her?”

  “Yes, for just over five years.”

  His intent study of her face became uncomfortable. She squirmed, wondering why his gaze made her insides wiggly.

  “Do you work, too? I mean, aside from taking care of your mom?”

  She shook her head. “No, Mama required round-the-clock care. Besides, I—I quit my job when it became obvious someone needed to be with her all the time.” Please, don’t say you’re sorry I had to do that. She rushed to prevent him doing so. “My brother is a Marine. He and his wife have bounced from place to place for a few years. They’re expecting a baby next month, so we’re all hoping they’ll get to settle down somewhere real soon.”

  “And your sister?”

  “Well, as you know, Jenna is married to Dr. Bob Clevenger, heart surgeon extraordinaire. Cassie and Carrie are their twin terrors, and trust me, they keep my sister on her toes in between all the social engagements required of a prominent doctor’s wife.”

  “I see. So you were the only choice. What kind of job did you have, before?”

  “I worked with Dr. Bob at Castle Creek General as a public relations specialist.”

  “I can see you in that field.” He leaned back against the booth, nodding as he studied her face. “Your mother was lucky to have you, Destiny. Will you go back to the hospital now?”

  “Oh, I’m sure that job’s long gone. Besides, I…” She hesitated. Why was she telling this man so much about herself? She didn’t have an anwer to that question, but not knowing didn’t stop her from spilling her every secret. “I think I might like to start a business of my own.”

  His dark brows shot up. “Really? Your own public relations firm?”

  Destiny felt heat rising in her cheeks. He would laugh now, and make her feel like an idiot. She had given the idea considerable thought over the last couple of years, and was quite caught up in it. The thought of this big, nice man making light of her dream closed her throat and cut off her air.

  She drew a deep breath and went for it. So what if he did laugh? She’d only known Clay Gallagher a couple of hours. His opinion didn’t matter in the least.

  “A Christian dating service.” Waiting for his response, she only realized she was nibbling at her bottom lip when the pain made her stop. “I want to be a matchmaker.”

  ****

  She didn’t look empty-headed.

  Destiny’s pretty face wasn’t buried beneath a mask of cosmetics, and he’d be willing to swear the rich auburn of her hair hadn’t come out of a bottle. The soft yellow dress she wore probably wasn’t a conventional color for funeral attire, but then, from all he’d seen and heard at Margie May’s service, the woman hadn’t expected or wanted conventionality. Destiny’s fashion taste seemed to lean toward the conservative, which he found mighty refreshing. He had a difficult time dealing with the constant stream of ultra-modern women who planted themselves in his path at every opportunity.

  The girl obviously had an education and a brain to go with it. She’d been employed in a respectable position anyone could be proud of. Still…a matchmaker? Clay considered the whole arranged dating scene a bit ridiculous. He couldn’t believe this beautiful, intelligent woman wanted to play God with the lives of desperate people who couldn’t find mates for themselves.

  “Well, whatever you do, don’t speak right up and encourage me or anything.” She interrupted his stunned silence.

  He managed to rustle up half a grin. “Hey, I was getting to it. Impatient, aren’t you? I’m sure you’ll be successful at whatever you decide to do.” Ouch! Maybe that didn’t come off quite as glib as I’m thinking it might have.

  Destiny’s full lips, at which he’d been making a valiant effort not to stare while they talked, curved themselves into a knowing smirk. Even in a blatant show of sarcasm, the woman was gorgeous.

  Clay gave himself an internal shake. The girl just lost her mother. Wasn’t there something a little off in thinking about her insane beauty on the very day she laid her mom to rest?

  “Could you be any more noncommittal?” Her derisive comment interrupted his self-reprimand. “Talk about a cop-out. So what’s the deal? You don’t think a woman can run a business? Or—let me guess—you don’t like the type of business I’m thinking about?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, I don’t doubt for a moment that you could run a business, lady. With that straightforward approach of yours, there’d at least be no room for misconceptions.” He raked his fingers through hair that probably already looked like it hadn’t been combed in a week. “I admire that. I do.”

  Her eyes narrowed to green slits. “So that leaves the other choice. What do you have against a Christian dating service?”

  Clay squirmed in his seat. You only met her today, and from the word ‘go,’ you’ve been messing up. Why couldn’t you just say “God bless”and leave it alone?

  “My reservations have nothing to do with it being geared toward Christians.”

  She quirked one shapely brow. “Really? What is it, then? The idea of a dating agency in general?”

  He’d already blown his chances with this hot-headed beauty. May as well go for broke. “Look, if you think you’re capable of pairing people up for life, go for it.” He shrugged. “For myself, I’d be a little uncomfortable trying to do something like that. Seems to me all things having to do with love and marriage and the future happiness of human beings ought to be left in the hands of the Almighty. He knows them better than we do or ever could.”

  She didn’t reply right away. He watched her signal their waitress, who approached with a hot coffee pot. Destiny dumped a c
ouple little blue packets of white powder and a container of cream into her cup while she spoke. “God uses people to help Him do His work all the time, Clay. We are His hands and feet, even His voice in this world.”

  “I guess that’s true.” He had to give her points for quick thinking. “Still, look at the way the divorce rate in this country is climbing. I wouldn’t want to risk contributing to that by bringing couples together who might not make it three weeks past the altar.”

  Destiny sighed, her expression troubled. “That concerns me, as well. But I’ve given this a lot of thought—and a lot of prayer—for a long time. In spite of all the scary possibilities, I still feel like it’s where God is leading me.”

  Those luscious lips of hers curved into an impish grin. There was no way he could have refused to smile back, even if he’d wanted to—which he definitely did not.

  “I’ve made it past thirty without getting married.”

  It didn’t seem to bother her to talk about her age. Just one more point in her favor, in Clay’s opinion.

  “So I have to wonder why God’s laying this particular ministry on my heart. But then, His moves aren’t often predictable, are they?”

  Clay wasn’t all that comfortable discussing God so openly. He believed in Him. He’d even made a commitment once, a long time ago. But he’d just been a kid then, and it seemed like the right thing to do—all his friends were into it. But to speak about the Creator of the Universe as if He were a friend or even a familiar acquaintance seemed rather presumptuous.

  He avoided a direct reply. “Did you say ministry? You’re kidding, right? Where’s the ministry in playing Cupid?”

  Destiny’s expressive face told him he’d not made any points. Well, at least he didn’t have to worry about those pesky little arrows complicating his own life. He’d managed to alienate the prettiest, most interesting woman he could remember ever meeting, and he’d done it in under two hours. An amazing record, even for him.

  “You don’t for a moment imagine that I would attempt to match two hearts without first praying about it long and hard, do you? Sometimes people are scared. They’ve been hurt by a failed relationship, or they were raised in a broken home, or they’re simply intimidated by statistics.” She nailed him with a scoffing glance. “Making the first move to meet someone special is beyond their ability. But if God wants to use me to bring these people together, it could turn into an incredible work.” She sat up straighter, lifted her cute little chin, and gave him a decisive nod. “Yes, I did say ‘ministry,’ and that’s exactly the word I meant to use.”