Donna Clayton - Her Dream Come True

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Mary-Theresa Hussey

Senior Editor

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The “sister bond” is special and so very sacred it cannot

be broken by time or distance or even death.

This book is lovingly dedicated to

Melissa, Susan and Reneé Jeglinski.

DONNA CLAYTON

is proud to be a recipient of the Holt Medallion, an award honoring outstanding literary talent, for her Silhouette Romance novel Wife for a While. And seeing her work appear on the Waldenbooks series bestsellers list has given her a great deal of joy and satisfaction.

Reading is one of Donna’s favorite ways to while away a rainy afternoon. She loves to hike, too. Another hobby added to her list of fun things to do is traveling. She fell in love with Europe during her first trip abroad recently and plans to return often. Oh, and Donna still collects cookbooks, but as her writing career grows, she finds herself using them less and less.

Donna loves to hear from her readers. Please write to her in care of Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017.

Dear Reader,

I have always longed for a sister. However, the good Lord decided I would grow up in a house full of males. With four brothers running around like half-raised heathens, is there any wonder I was a tomboy? I could climb trees and throw a football with the best of them!

Her Dream Come True is a story conjured from my deep yearning for a sibling of the female persuasion. Someone who would enjoy a little “girl talk.” You know what I mean...conversations about boys and makeup and clothes. All the things girls like to whisper and wonder about. Oh, I had friends. But I can’t help but believe that the bond between sisters is special. Magical.

When Hannah came to life on the page, I found her to be a lot like me. Pretty self-assured. Relatively competent. A go-getter. But she had her share of vulnerabilities, too. Like I said, she was a lot like me. I can’t stress enough how surprised I was when I “created” Tammy and discovered she was mentally challenged. Tammy proved to have a thoroughly positive attitude, a sunny disposition, a naiveté that made her...well, almost ethereal, and most definitely a beautiful saul. Once she was in my head, I could no more have changed her than I could have forced the sun to rise in the west. Tammy was who she was...and I grew to love her—challenge and all!

I hope you love Tammy, too. And the unique bond these loving sisters share. Oh, my, and we can’t forget Adam. The extraordinary man who brings Hannah and Tammy together. I do hope you flip head-over-feet for him. I know I sure did!

Enjoy,

Prologue

“What do you mean I have to go to Little. Haven alone?”

Hannah Cavanaugh stared at her mother, who sat behind the massive teak desk seemingly too preoccupied with a dozen different tasks to give the topic at hand the attention it deserved. But Hannah was used to that.

“Well, I can’t possibly go,” Hillary Cavanaugh said, not bothering to look up from her very own handmade A List of the most prominent of New York City’s social set. “You know how busy I am. If I miss an opening night or a television interview or even a silly photo shoot, that’s grounds for terminating a publicity agent in a client’s mind. I have to be on hand to smooth out the rough spots. You know that.”

To anyone else the sigh the woman expelled would have held the perfect amount of suffering to garner the listener’s sympathy; however, Hannah didn’t miss the hollow, well-practiced quality in the expression.

“There simply isn’t a slow season in this business.”

How many times had Hannah heard that statement? How often had that excuse been used over the years to allow her mother to miss all the important events of Hannah’s life?

Stop, Hannah told herself. Mother works hard. She cares about the people she works for. She cares about you. And she’s done her best for you. Then another whispery thought nudged Hannah. She was the parent who wanted you.

After a long, deliberate pause, during which Hannah succeeded in stifling the sigh that threatened to erupt from her own throat, she said, “But, Mother, your husband has died. Don’t you think you ought to go to pay your condolences?”

“My ex-husband,” Hillary firmly reminded Hannah. “And neither of us has seen the man for twenty-five years. Besides, it’s been nearly a month since he passed away. I’m sure the funeral is long over. Unless of course those backwoods people in that little hick town hold some sort of mourning ritual that lasts for weeks.” As an aside she murmured, “Which wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

The holier-than-thou tone of her mother’s voice rubbed Hannah the wrong way. It made Hillary sound as if she were looking down her nose at others, judging them to be something less than they were.

“But, Mother,” Hannah began, “wouldn’t it be best if you were to—”

Her mother’s silent, narrowed gaze burned straight through Hannah’s opinion like a red-hot laser beam.

“I am not leaving the city. I have clients who need my attention.” Hillary’s sudden, cool smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It won’t take you long to get your father’s affairs in order. Before you know it, you’ll be back at the hospital fighting tooth and nail for that ward nurse promotion you’ve been working toward.”

One corner of Hannah’s mouth twitched. She had to hand it to her mother. Usually when the subject of Hannah’s career came up, the derision in Hillary’s voice was much more pronounced. But not today. Hannah suspected it was because her mother was asking her for a favor. Not that there was much actual asking, mind you, but with her mother, there never was.

Coming to the conclusion that the trip south was an inescapable part of her immediate future, Hannah said, “Well, I’ll have to take care of things quickly. That promotion is important to me. I can’t be away for more than a week. Two, tops.”

“It certainly shouldn’t take you that long to arrange to sell the contents of the house,” Hillary said. “Contact an auction house. There have to be estate sales even in that no-man’s-land down there. And then list the house with a real estate agent. You don’t need to stay until a buyer is found.”

Hannah grew suddenly pensive. The question on the tip of her tongue had to be asked. However, she was not eager to bring up the forbidden subject.

She’d raised the taboo issue with her mother exactly twice in her life. The first time she’d been very young, about ten, if Hannah remembered correctly, and her mother had merely brushed aside her inquiry, acting as if she’d been deaf as a doornail. The second time, Hannah and her mother had ended up having a terrible verbal row that resulted in the longest bout of silence in the history of mother-daughter relationships. Hannah wasn’t wild about the thought of repeating the experience.

She steeled herself, knowing in her heart the question simply had to be asked.

“What about Tammy?”

Hillary’s facial flinch was nearly imperceptible. And during the long pause, Hannah was sure her mother was garnering every ounce of control she possessed.