Call It Destiny

offered.
    „Umm, yes. I expect so.“
    „That’s not like you, either, is it?“
    „Jake, as I keep pointing out to you, you don’t really know me that well, do you?“ she sighed.
    „I’m learning.“
    It sounded like a threat. Heather reacted by carefully freeing her wrist and stepping away from him. She kept the too-bright smile in place. „If you don’t mind, I’d better be getting back to the party. My mother will be wondering where I am.“
    „I’ll come with you.“
    She could say nothing in opposition. But when he again caught her hand in his she shivered and knew he felt it.
    „Heather?“
    „Bridal jitters, as you said, Jake. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Back to normal, in fact.“
    „Good. Because it’s much too late to change your plans.“ When she shot him a wary sidelong glance he gave her an amused look. „Two hundred people in the resort chapel and no telling how many at the reception. Julian would have a fit if he had to throw all those hors d’oeuvres away.“
    „Don’t worry, Jake, I’ll show up at the wedding. After all, it’s my first one and I’m bound to be curious.“ She slipped free of his grasp once more as the good-natured crowd on the terrace closed around them.
    Heather spotted Jim Connors, the busboy who owned the beautiful new motorcycle, and moved to join the group with whom he was standing. As usual he was discussing the intricacies of motorcycle riding with his friends, and Heather, aware that she was a few years out-of-date, joined right in.
    When the party was over the problem of how to avoid finding herself alone with Jake was readily solved when she found herself amid a group of hotel workers who were going in her general direction. At her door she bid them all good-night, including Jake who stood on the fringes, watching her through cool considering eyes. With another overly brilliant smile she closed the door on everyone.
    At nine-fifteen the next morning Heather dismissed her mother and her sisters with a firmness that surprised everyone, including herself. For the past hour they had been fluttering around the bride-to-be, arranging the elegant lace-and-satin gown, experimenting with her hair under the gossamer veil, telling her how lovely she looked. Their excitement should have been contagious but Heather had been growing increasingly high-strung and chilled. With forty-five minutes to go before she was due at the quiet chapel tucked into the hotel gardens, Heather could take the warmth and family affection no longer. The falseness of the entire situation had to be ended.
    „I just need a little time to myself,“ she explained, waving them all out the front door. „Don’t worry, I’m quite capable of walking over to the chapel on my own.“
    „Heather, dear, are you feeling all right?“ Ruth Strand asked anxiously.
    „I’m fine, mother. Just a little tense.“
    Her mother smiled. „Perhaps a bit of sherry before the wedding?“
    Ann, Heather’s youngest sister looked horrified. „Mother! That’s outrageous!“
    „Actually, it sounds like a rather good idea, but I think I’ll pass,“ Heather said wryly.
    „All right, dear. Call if you need us,“ Ruth said, her blue eyes reflecting her feminine understanding of the strain her daughter was experiencing.
    Except that her mother couldn’t possibly know just how bad the strain was, Heather told herself wearily as she shut the door behind the female members of her family. No one could possibly understand.
    It seemed to take forever to undo the row of buttons that ran down the back of the elegant summer wedding gown. Heather worked with a grim intensity that grew as the dress crumpled into a frothy heap around her feet. Then she unfastened the pale stockings and rolled them down to her toes. When she lifted the veil she was left standing in the silky white bra and panties. For a long moment Heather studied her reflection in the mirror seeking guidance or answers or assurance that could never come.
    Then she turned to her closet and pulled out the narrow black designer jeans she had bought for horseback riding. When they were fastened she tugged a black cotton-knit pullover out of the drawer and located the sleek leather riding boots standing in the back of the closet. She controlled the sweep of bronzed hair with a headband she had bought to wear for tennis. It had a vague Southwest-Indian motif woven into it and it went rather strikingly with the silver-and-leather belt she