Donovan Read Free

reflection in the mirror. My shoulder-length blonde hair was giving me
fits, and I was ready for a change. I decided I wanted to go ash brown. I
needed a change, and although I knew that my proposed changes were merely
superficial, I hoped that they would make me feel better.
    I was
still reeling from Frank Sanderson's death. I'd been working for old man
Sanderson for the past six years, doing his books for him. He had gotten so
busy with the running of the ranch. His wife, Lisa, was no spring chicken
herself, already overwhelmed with her chores, and with
what I thought might be some form of mild dementia. Years ago I had offered to
take over the accounting and finances for the Rocker S Ranch and Frank had
wholeheartedly agreed, stating that none of his kids could count without using
their fingers. Oh, I supposed Shane could have done it, as he still lived on
the ranch – the bunkhouse and not the main house – but he always admitted, with
a laugh, that math and finances were definitely not his strong suit. He had
been more than happy to relinquish any of that responsibility to me. Shane
liked to be outside, winter or summer, riding the horses, cutting and branding
the cattle, out on the range.
    I had
known the Sandersons since I was little. I had dated Donovan
Sanderson, the middle brother, all through high school, and had stayed true to
him when he went off to college in Ohio. He had come home several times during
his college breaks and I had always hoped that he would come back to Stinnett
for good when he was done. It wasn’t to be. Gradually, I had noticed that he
was pulling away. Not from me so much as from the expectations that his father
had for him to take over the running of the ranch. I had been around enough to
hear many of the familiar arguments that occurred between father and son before
Donovan had skipped town for good nearly eight years ago.
    "How
you doing today, Memphis?"
    I
shrugged. "Ready for a change." I gazed up
at Dori's reflection in the mirror. Our eyes met.
"Did you hear about Frank?"
    Dori shook her head. "No," she
said. "What's up?"
    "He
died day before yesterday," I said quietly, fighting back the tears that
threatened to spill over my eyelids at the words. I had come to adore, even
love, Frank over the years, and felt just as close to Lisa, who now wandered
around the ranch house as if in a daze. The night Frank passed away, I had stayed at the ranch house, along with Shane and
Cameron, to offer Lisa whatever support and comfort I could. Julie and Tammy
had also come to visit, but didn't stay overnight, as they had their own
obligations and responsibilities. The only person missing from the family
gathering that night had been Frank, of course, and Donovan.
    I hadn't
seen Donovan in eight years, and every time I thought of him I was rather
surprised that he had never come home once since that morning he had left so
long ago. It was as if he had just dropped off the face of the earth—
    "Oh
no!" Dori exclaimed. "What happened?"
    I gave a
slight shrug, staring at my red-eyed reflection in the mirror. "Probably a
heart attack, but the coroner wants to do an autopsy because he was found lying
out in the old barn—"
    "Don't
tell me that it was Lisa who found him that way?" Dori asked , her brow furrowed with concern.
    I shook my
head. "No, one of the ranch hands found him," I explained. "Lisa
was in the kitchen fixing breakfast." Again I felt a warm flood of tears
in my eyes as I shook my head in stunned amazement. "But Dori , Lisa's just lost! She wanders around the house as if
she's still looking for him…" Dori placed her
hands on my shoulders and gave them a gentle squeeze.
    "That's
so sad," she sighed. "They’ve been married, what, like 40
years?"
    I nodded. "Fifty-something. Donovan told me once that they had
met in high school just before the Second World War."
    "Have
you heard from him?"
    Again, I
shook my head, as thoughts and memories of Donovan, our years of dating, and
the love I