Reflection Point

chapter THIRTEEN





“The man confounds me,” Savannah told Gabi, who sat beside her in a salon chair in the Angel’s Rest spa. “It’s been three weeks. He sends gifts. He calls me. He drops by the shop to visit. He tells his friends that he’s ‘seeing’ me, but he hasn’t asked me out.”

“Really? How do you know that?”

“Sage told me. Is this some sort of weird mountain dating ritual? Not to go on dates?”

Gabi laughed. “Not that I know of. I agree it’s weird that he’s never asked you out. It’s not like he’s trying to work up the nerve. From everything I’ve seen, Zach Turner doesn’t do timid.”

Savannah eyed the red polish on Gabi’s toes and second-guessed her own choice of a pink shade. “Well, he did ask me out once, but that was at the open house.”

“You turned him down?” When Savannah nodded, Gabi continued. “Well, there’s your answer. He’s waiting for you to make the next move.”

“Excuse me? Are you saying he’s waiting for me to ask him out?”

“Knowing my boss, that’s a good guess. Zach is a proud man.”

“He’s a pest.” Savannah indulged in a minor sulk. “And the whole thing is complicated.”

“Why, because you have a jerk in your past?”

Savannah startled. Had Zach spread her personal business around? Before she could ask, Gabi continued.

“You don’t own the market on a-holes, Savannah. A lot of us have scars from that particular battle.”

“Maybe so, but some wounds take longer to heal. Some wounds never heal.”

“Sure they do … as long as you don’t let them fester. You need to let yourself see where this thing with Zach takes you. Don’t stress and don’t overanalyze. It causes wrinkles.”

Was Gabi right? The idea did make a weird sort of sense. The behavior was annoying, so of course it would be something he’d do. She nodded toward Gabi’s feet and changed the subject. “What color is that?”

“Wine for Me, Baby.”

“It’s pretty. It complements your olive complexion.” Savannah glanced up as the nail technician exited the back room carrying a stack of towels. “It probably would look garish on me. I’m too pale.”

“You are peaches and cream. I’m jealous. So back to the matter at hand. You should ask Zach out, Savannah. Make a picnic and have him take you up to Heartache Falls or something.” Gabi held up one foot, then the other, so that Molly could slip her sandals on. “Make your peach cobbler.”

“Your boss isn’t the only pest in town,” Savannah said glumly. “Don’t you need to go give somebody a parking ticket or something?”

“Meow.” Gabi shot her an unabashed grin.

A few minutes later, after Gabi had left the salon, her words lingered in Savannah’s mind as Molly gave her a pedicure. And while she shopped for groceries at the Trading Post. And when she opened the shop at ten and ate her lunch at twelve-thirty and sold an eighty-seven-dollar gift basket to a tourist from Arizona at three.

Gabi’s suggestion trumpeted through her mind like a brass band when she was out on the front porch watering her geraniums and Zach drove by in his sheriff’s Range Rover. Two days later, she gave in, as much to still the voice in her head as for any other reason. At least that’s what she tried to tell herself.

At two o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, Savannah made a phone call to Celeste, then hung the BACK IN TEN MINUTES sign on Heavenscents’ front door. She marched over to the sheriff’s office, greeted Ginger with a tight smile, and asked if she could speak to Zach for just a minute.

“Sure, honey,” Ginger replied. “Go on back.”

Savannah hesitated outside his office door, her heart pounding, her mouth dry as sand. He sat scowling at his computer screen and looked so handsome doing it that she almost chickened out. Curse the man. Why does he have to be so darned agreeable?

Summoning her nerve, annoyed that she needed to do so, Savannah rapped on his door. Zach glanced up, and surprise briefly widened his eyes before he offered a warm smile. “Hello, Peach.”

Without a preamble or a greeting or even a smile, she blurted, “Do you want to go on a picnic with me Sunday afternoon?”

He didn’t hesitate an instant. “I’d love to go on a picnic with you Sunday afternoon.”

Holy soap flakes, he said yes. Now what? “Okay, then. Pick me up at one. I’ll bring the food. Can you choose the spot?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay, then.” She spun on her heel and exited the office. She had just reached the corner when she heard him call her name. She stopped, exhaled abruptly. He’s going to cancel. Bracing herself for the humiliation of rejection, she turned around. “Yes?”

“Shall we bring the dogs along?”

The rest of the week, Zach alternated between smugness and nervousness. The nervousness really pissed him off. His plan had worked, hadn’t it? She’d marched into his office and asked him out. He’d worn her down, just like he’d planned. So then why was he antsy about this? Women didn’t make him nervous. Not since high school, anyway.

Savannah Moore made him nervous.

“That’s what you get for being smug, you idiot,” he muttered to himself as he loaded Ace into his Jeep at ten minutes to one on Sunday.

And yet he had every right to be smug, didn’t he? His strategy to subtly seduce was working like a charm. The woman was skittish as a new colt where men were concerned, for good reason. Still—and he’d never admit this to another soul—he’d been shocked when she burst into his office, her eyes looking a little angry and wild, and belligerently asked him on a picnic.

When she answered his knock on her front door, the fake smile on her face and dread in her eyes restored his good humor for some reason. “You look like someone just drop-kicked little Inny. I’m not the Big Bad Wolf, you know.”

“No. You’re the Big Bad Sheriff.” She sighed heavily. “And this is a really bad idea.”

Well, hell. “Are you trying to chicken out?”

Her chin came up. “No. I do what I say I’m going to do. Our picnic lunch is ready and Inny is ready and I’m—”

“Beautiful.” She wore faded jeans and a pale pink camp shirt that shouldn’t have been sexy but was. “So what’s on the menu?”

“Fried chicken, potato salad, coleslaw, and peach cobbler for dessert. Zach, I haven’t been on a date since Kyle. I’m not ready for this.”

“It’s a picnic, Savannah. I’m not taking you back to my place to have hot, raunchy sex.” Damn the bad luck. “There is nothing for you to be ‘ready’ for other than maybe to catch a trout.”

“Fishing? You’re taking me fishing?”

“Do you have something against fishing?”

After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “I don’t know. I’ve never been fishing before.”

He gaped at her. “Now, that’s just sad. We will definitely take care of that this afternoon. I’m taking you up to this place I know on Murphy Mountain. It’s a beautiful picnic spot, and the fishing is great. You can give it a try, and if you don’t like it, we can hike over to Heartache Falls or just sit and talk.”

“Fishing sounds fun. I do like to hike, too.”

Zach followed the path of her gaze and noted she wore sneakers. “You might want to bring along some boots, just in case. Want help with the food?”

“Sure. The basket is on my kitchen table. Let me get my boots and Inny’s leash and we’re ready to go.”

Zach’s dog, Ace, gave a happy yip when Savannah put Inny in the backseat with him. The two dogs had played together twice before at the dog park and had become great friends.

They stopped by Cam Murphy’s sporting goods store and bought a fishing license for her. Zach kept the conversation general and light as he took the scenic back road up the mountain and she slowly relaxed. Like gentling a horse, he thought.

When he turned off the road and onto a rutted trail, she cut him a glance. “You sure you know where you’re going?”

“Trust me.” He flashed a wide grin and added, “It is rough through here. You might want to grab the hold strap.”

She held on to it for dear life, her brow furrowed in concern until the moment the path curved and the Jeep burst onto the meadow. “Oh,” she breathed, a smile of pleasure brightening her face. “How lovely. The view is absolutely breathtaking.”

“Best view of Sinner’s Prayer Pass around. Cam would like to build a house up here, but Sarah says it’s not practical with them both having businesses in town.”

“He owns this land?”

“Yep. He owns all of Murphy Mountain except for the section he sold to Jack’s charitable foundation for the camp they’re building.”

“Cat mentioned something about it, but I haven’t heard the details. It’s for troubled kids?”

“Children whose lives have been touched by tragedy. They had hoped to open in June, but licensing red tape held them up. I think they’re set now for some time in August. They’re going to have a couple of test run sessions for local kids first.”

He drove to the center of the meadow and stopped the Jeep beside the creek. “Here’s our lunch spot. So, what would you like to do first? Eat? Hike? Fish?”

“You said we can hike to Heartache Falls from here?”

“Yes. Takes about half an hour.”

“Is it too difficult for the dogs?”

“No, but we’ll need to keep them on their leads. If we run across wildlife, it’s better that we keep control.”

In the process of lacing up a hiking boot, Savannah glanced up warily. “Wildlife? Are we talking mountain lions and bears?”

“It’s possible, but chipmunks are much more likely. I’ve seen how Inny guards her backyard against the evil chipmunk interlopers.”

“Yes, she is the ruler of her domain.”

Zach kept a loaded pack in his Jeep for hikes, so he grabbed it and Ace’s lead, and once Savannah was ready, they headed into the sun-dappled forest. To Zach’s ears, a heavily wooded mountain had its own unique sound, a muted sense of life that, though quiet, was never still. A forest’s city street was the crash of a falling pinecone onto a pile of brittle windswept leaves, the chatter of birds above, and the bubble of a brook almost always out of sight. Fir trees dominated the landscape on this part of the mountain and perfumed the air with a scent Zach always associated with Christmas. He said as much to Savannah.

“I’m still traumatized by the year my parents decided we needed an artificial tree instead of a real one,” he added. “I thought there was just something wrong about dragging your Christmas tree out of the attic instead of traipsing to the Boy Scouts’ tree lot to pick out the perfect one. That only lasted a year, though. Dad and I whined about it enough that the next year, Mom compromised. Dad and I got our real tree, but when it came time to take it down and put the decorations away, we did the work and Mom shopped the after-Christmas sales.”

Rather wistfully, Savannah said, “We used to steal our Christmas trees.”

Zach swung his head around and arched a brow at her. Savannah chuckled. “It’s true. I’m not a drug trafficker, but I’ll cop to being a Christmas tree thief. It was a family tradition, and I admit it was one I just loved. My dad and brothers and I would pick one out every summer as we hiked up to the stills. When we finally settled on one, I’d tie a red hair ribbon around it, and then the Sunday after Thanksgiving, no matter what the weather was like, we’d pile into Daddy’s truck and go get it.”

“Tell me you’re not carrying a red hair ribbon today.”

“I haven’t owned a hair ribbon in years.”

“Good. Don’t make me arrest you come December, Peach.”

“Well …” she drawled in that slow molasses voice as she made a show of studying the nearest Douglas fir. He scowled at her, and this time her laughter pealed out like church bells. “Don’t worry. After she caught me shoplifting toothpaste at the local Walmart, Grams made me swear I’d never steal anything ever again.”

“You stole toothpaste?”

“Let’s just say I learned early on in life how to stretch the grocery budget. What about you, Zach? Did you ever shoplift or were you always a Boy Scout?”

“I didn’t shoplift and I am an Eagle Scout, but I did steal a car one time.”

She halted abruptly, her eyes bugging, and now it was Zach’s turn to laugh. “Undercover cops get to do all sorts of criminal things in order to protect their cover.”

“That is so not fair.”

Zach gave Ace’s leash a tug, and the whippet abandoned his intent sniffing at the base of a fallen log and returned to the trail. Like a pesky younger sister, Inny followed right at Ace’s heels.

Their conversation lagged as the trail took them on a rocky incline that required concentration. Twice Zach reached back to give her a hand up, and the second time he didn’t release her, but laced her fingers with his. “You mentioned brothers. How many brothers do you have?”

“Three.”

“Older? Younger? Any sisters?”

“Older brothers, no sisters. You?”

“None of either. I’m adopted. My parents were beginning the process for a second child when my grandmother had a stroke, Mom became her primary caretaker, and they decided she had her hands full. I always wished I had a brother.”

“Is your grandmother still alive?”

He shook his head. “I lost all three before I turned twenty-three. Nana had another stroke, my mom died from breast cancer, and my dad … they said it was a heart attack, but I think losing Mom broke it.”

Savannah’s eyes went soft and caring. “Oh, Zach. That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. That must have been very difficult for you.”

“It was hard. My heart was broken, too. I loved them very much. Being on my own at that age was tough. Took me a little while to adjust. I almost flunked out of school.” Now why the hell had he told her that? He didn’t talk about that. He wasn’t one to delve into his past.

“Did you ever try to find your biological parents?” she asked, then winced. “I’m sorry. That’s nosy of me. It’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s okay,” he replied, and continued his blabbermouth ways. “And the answer is no, I never have. Never wanted to. I had great parents. I guess I didn’t think it’d be right to go digging around in the past looking for replacements. That said, I always wished I had a brother.”

She pulled her hand from his. “Sometimes brothers are more of a pain than they’re worth.”

“Tell me about yours.”

Savannah took another ten paces before replying. “One of my brothers left home when I was still in high school. One went to jail for drugs and the last I heard was still there. The other married and had a kid.”

“Niece or nephew?”

Her smile was bittersweet. “A nephew. Tommy. But can we talk about something else, please? We should be talking about the weather or the hot springs at Angel’s Rest or the Fourth of July fireworks over Hummingbird Lake. This is our first date. We should be talking about the scenery and making small talk!”

“Small talk is okay. Making out is better.” With that, he pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was hot, passionate, and carnal, and as Savannah melted into his arms, her words from moments earlier whispered through his mind like a summer breeze through an aspen grove. So you’re alone.

I have been. Maybe not anymore.

She means something to me.

Shaken, he ended the kiss. Taking a step away from her, he filled his lungs with air, then exhaled a heavy breath. “It’s our first date.”

She shook her head as if clearing away cobwebs. “That’s what I said.”

Zach drank in the sight of her. Sunlight beaming through the trees caught strands of red in her hair, turning it a burnished gold. Her big brown doe eyes and graceful manner of movement made her suited to the forest. She wasn’t a deer, however. She was a mountain lion. “I think you might well be the strongest woman I’ve ever met, Savannah.”

Now she closed her eyes. “Why did you say that?”

I don’t know. “Because it’s true.”

“I certainly don’t feel strong right now. You make me feel weak.”

“I’m an excellent kisser, so while I appreciate the sentiment, that’s not the sort of weakness I’m talking about. Here, let me show you.”

Taking her hand once again, they stepped into the clearing that offered an unobstructed view of Heartache Falls. They stood at almost the halfway point between the top of the falls and the pool at its base. It was a long, narrow ribbon of water, swollen with snowmelt, that roared over the rocks and crashed some sixty feet below. Zach and Savannah stood close enough that mist drifted over them, dampening their skin.

“It’s beautiful,” Savannah said.

Now he knew why he’d said she was strong. “It’s energy and music and life flowing over bedrock that stands firm. That’s you, Peach.”

She gave him a searching gaze as color stained her cheeks. “That’s poetic. And flattering. You continually surprise me, Sheriff Turner.”

“I think that’s probably a good thing.” Then he leaned down and kissed her again. She melted against him again.

Zach concluded that their first date was off to a darned good start.

Back at the meadow, they ate lunch, and after Zach finished rhapsodizing about Savannah’s southern cooking, they threw tennis balls for their dogs until the pups pooped out and plopped down on the quilt for a nap. Zach wouldn’t have minded joining them, but Savannah was ready to fish. When he carried his tackle box and two rods to the bank of the stream, excitement gleamed in her eyes and ignited his own.

This was the first time he’d ever taught someone how to fish, and he found Savannah’s enthusiasm entertaining and, well, arousing. Of course, he found most everything about her arousing these days. When she landed her first fish—a nice-sized rainbow—and bounced up and down and then shimmied with unadulterated joy, he felt like he’d given her the moon.

He also wanted to drag her to the ground and have his way with her, but he’d hate to have to arrest himself for public indecency.

It was a fun afternoon. She scoreboarded him where fishing was concerned, catching three to his one. As they were getting ready to leave, loading up the Jeep with dogs and fresh trout for dinner, he said, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Fishing?”

“Going on a date with me.”

She waited a full thirty seconds before replying. “I enjoyed today, Zach. Thank you.”

“Want to give it another go?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Absolutely. It’s my turn.” She rewarded him with a faint smile, and Zach shifted gears, then reached for her hand. “I’m working every day until the Fourth. I have to work the parade and afternoon picnic, but I’m off that night. How about joining me for fireworks on Reflection Point?”

She cleared her throat. “Fireworks?”

Oh, yeah. “Eternity Springs’ fireworks show is over Hummingbird Lake. The best view around is from my hot tub.”

“Fireworks. A hot tub.”

“I’ll grill some steaks, open a good bottle of wine. It’ll be nice. Relaxing.” Romantic. Maybe not-so-subtle seduction.

She turned to him with wary, troubled eyes. “I enjoy being with you, Zach. I’d like a Fourth of July second date. But I’ll be honest. This whole thing between us … it scares me. It’s happening too fast.”

Too fast? Compared to what? Cold molasses?

Okay, maybe not seduction after all. Dammit.

“Don’t be scared, Savannah. There’s no need for that. I’m not a jerk and I’m not out to hurt you. You can trust me.”

Bitterness colored her tone. “No, Zach. I can’t. I can date you. I can make out with you. Maybe one of these days I’ll even sleep with you. But I will never trust you or any man ever again. You need to understand that.”

“That’s a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Try spending six years in prison for a crime you didn’t commit because someone you loved betrayed you, then see what strikes you as melodramatic. Okay?”

Zach pursed his lips, knowing that now was not the time to further pursue this line of discussion. Instead he nodded. “I hear you. So, we’re on for the Fourth and fireworks? Do you prefer T-bones or rib eyes? Cabernet or Merlot?”

She smiled. “You pick.”

At least she trusted him with that.

“I’ll bring homemade peach ice cream.”

Now who was trying to seduce whom?