Reflection Point

chapter TWENTY-SIX





She awoke to the murmur of soft voices and the sight of an angel seated beside her bed. Not Francine. Celeste.

I’m either in heaven or a hospital. Where’s Zach? Then she remembered. Zach!

This could be hell.

Her mouth was dry and she tried to say his name, but it emerged as a croak. Celeste looked up from her magazine. A motorcycle magazine. “Savannah, you’re awake.”

Celeste reached for the white foam cup with a straw on the bedside table and put it up to Savannah’s mouth. She sipped and would have thought that the water felt and tasted wonderful had she not had but one thought in her mind. “Zach?”

“He’s alive. He’s in surgery.”

Alive. Thank you, God. Savannah drifted back to sleep.

The next time she awoke, Sage was sitting in the chair beside her bed, reading a novel. Savannah asked, “Zach?”

Sage smiled at her. “Hello, sleepyhead. Welcome back. Zach is in ICU, Savannah. It’s serious, but I will tell you that he survived surgery and we have every reason to hope.”

Savannah studied her friend’s face. Before she’d moved to Eternity Springs and become an artist, Sage had been a doctor. She knew what she was talking about. “Promise?”

“I promise, honey. The next twenty-four hours are key.”

Tears flooded Savannah’s eyes and she shut them. She said a fervent, silent prayer, sipped the water Sage offered, then said, “I need to see him.”

“I know you do. We’ll make that happen just as soon as we possibly can. You have my word on it. In the meantime, you need to do your part. You rest and get your strength up and we’ll get you in to see Zach.”

Good. Okay. “Teej?”

“TJ is fine. He’s here. He rode in with Cam and Sarah. You are at the hospital in Gunnison. You are going to be fine, by the way. The bullet went in and out. Nicked a bone and did some muscle damage, but you’ll heal.”

“Kyle?”

Sage’s face went hard. “He’s dead. The woman is, too. She had a shoot-out with Gabi.”

“She killed Francine?” Savannah asked, wanting to be certain she understood.

“Yes.”

“Gabi’s okay?”

Sage hesitated. “Physically she’s fine. She’s understandably upset.”

“Warrior woman,” Savannah murmured, then drifted back to sleep.

The next time she woke, she thought something was wrong with her eyes. She was seeing double. Two identical, tall, handsome strangers stood at the foot of her bed. Both looked tired and wore identical worried expressions as they gazed not at Savannah but at the figure seated in the bedside chair.

“You need to get some rest, Gabs,” one of them said.

“You’ll make yourself sick,” the other added. “That won’t do anyone any good. Max will be landing soon. He’ll be pissed if he gets here and sees you looking like a hag.”

“I don’t look like a hag,” Gabi said. “I’m fine.”

“You should go to the hotel and take a shower and a nap.”

“I will just as soon as they tell us that Zach is out of the woods.”

“But—”

“No, Lucca. Save your breath. I’m not leaving the hospital until I know that our brother is going to survive.”

Savannah’s eyes flew open. She croaked. “Your brother? Survive?”

Holy crap, I hurt.

It’d be easier to sink back into the haze, Zach knew. Awareness meant agony—but something else mattered. Something … someone. Savannah.

In his mind’s eye, he saw her fall. Felt the warm, wet stickiness of her blood. Savannah! His eyelids weighed a ton. Sound. Make a sound. Say her name. “S-s-s-s …”

“He’s hissing again,” Cam Murphy said.

“That’s a good sign,” Gabi Romano added. “Right? Don’t you think that’s a good sign?”

He put all his energy into saying, “Pe-a-ch.”

“What did he say?” Cam asked.

“He said ‘Peach,’ ” a woman’s voice said in a beautiful southern drawl. “He said my name.”

Zach opened his eyes and saw her leaning over him, whole and healthy and full of life and full of love. She wore an angel’s wing necklace around her neck, and it brushed his cheek as she leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Thank God. You’re back. I love you, Zach. You’re going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay.”

He saw tears pool in her big brown doe eyes and realized with only a twinge of embarrassment that his own eyes were wet, too. He managed a smile as his heart overflowed, then he drifted back to sleep. In peace.

“I’m telling you, there is bad juju around the summer arts festival. It needs to be cancelled,” Sarah Murphy said five days later.

“Now, Sarah …”

“Don’t ‘Now Sarah’ me, Zach Turner. You’ve been shot twice—twice!—at our summer arts festival. You lost your spleen, for heaven’s sake. What will it be next time? A kidney? Your liver? That’s bad karma, and I think changes must be made.”

Zach glanced at Savannah, seated beside him here in the hospital cafeteria, the remains of the lunch that their friends had brought with them from their favorite local restaurant scattered around them. “She’s turned into such a diva.”

“You scared her.”

“You both scared me. I don’t want to go through anything like that ever again.” Sarah lifted her chin and added, “It’s not healthy for me.”

“Or me either,” Cat Davenport said.

“Or me,” Nic Callahan concurred.

“Or me,” Sage Rafferty declared.

“Or me.” Ali Timberlake folded her arms.

Each of their husbands nodded their agreement. When Celeste Blessing failed to chime in, the other visitors looked at her. “I wasn’t scared. I knew they’d both make it. And, speaking of angel wings, I think we should get on with our presentation before the nurses come looking for Zach.”

“She’s right,” Sarah added. “Besides, I ate too many enchiladas, and I need to walk around.”

They cleared the tables and tossed the paper goods in the trash as Celeste took her place in the center of the room. “Cam, would you wheel Zach over here so that everyone can see?”

“I can walk,” he grumbled.

“No!” a dozen voices said at once.

“Nurse Ratchet will have our asses,” Cam added as he hurried to do Celeste’s bidding.

She took a small silver box from her bag and smiled at Zach. “My dear, dear Zach. As you know, I award the official Angel’s Rest blazon to those who have embraced love’s healing grace. The friends who have gathered with you today to witness this presentation each overcame great wounds of heart to earn their wings. One might argue that you’ve been blessed to avoid such emotional heartache.

“However, I contend that sometimes, wounds exist that remain hidden even from ourselves. If you look deeply, you may recognize such injuries within yourself. They may be different, more subtle, but just as real.”

Zach leaned toward Savannah, who had taken a seat beside him, and spoke from the corner of his mouth. “What is she talking about?”

“Hush,” his beloved scolded. “Pay attention.”

Celeste continued, “Zach, I award you these wings today in recognition of the innate strength of character you possess that has allowed you to overcome these lifelong trials and to acknowledge that love’s healing grace isn’t limited to emotional wounds. Is there any doubt that love compelled you and assisted you in your fight for survival?”

“No,” he answered honestly. “Not at all.”

Celeste opened the box and removed the angel’s wing pendant hanging from a heavy, masculine silver chain. She bent and fastened it around Zach’s neck, murmuring in his ear, “Feel the weight of this award in the coming hours, my friend. Draw strength from the knowledge of the joys that life has to give … if only you’ll open your heart to it.”

She kissed him on the cheek, then swept from the cafeteria. Zach sat in his wheelchair pleased, a bit embarrassed, and more than a little confused as, couple by couple, his friends from Eternity Springs offered their congratulations and wishes of good luck as they followed Celeste from the cafeteria.

“Okay, that was weird,” Zach said once he and Savannah were alone. “Why do I get the feeling that something else is going on here? What’s up, Savannah? Did the doctors find something unexpected when they were digging around inside me? Am I dying, after all?”

“No. That’s not it at all.” She wheeled his chair around and began to push him back to his room. “However, once again, your instincts are spot on. There are some people waiting for you back in your room.”

“People?”

“It’s a good thing, honey,” Savannah said as they approached his door.

“What people?”

She sucked in a deep breath, then said, “Your blood type is AB negative, which is quite uncommon. Have you stopped to wonder where they got all of that rare red stuff that they pumped into your body?”

His hospital room door opened to reveal an obviously nervous Gabi Romano. Savannah squeezed Zach’s shoulder and guided him on into his room where three men stood in front of the window. Zach recognized them all. Max Romano had come to his office. Anthony and Lucca Romano were college basketball coaches of some renown. Lucca Romano had been on the news quite a bit last year when he’d been involved in a tragic team bus incident that had taken the lives of two of his players.

Zach braced himself against the expected pain and stood. “Deputy Romano, why are your brothers congregated in my hospital room?”

Gabi clasped her hands in front of her, drew a deep breath, and said, “Because our blood runs in your veins, Zach.”

“Oh.” He smiled and extended his hand. “You donated blood for me. Thank you.”

“Yes, we did, and you are welcome,” Max Romano said. “But that’s not why we are here. Zach, we are your birth family. You are our brother.”

Savannah watched his face grow pale. She stepped forward, saying, “Why don’t we all sit down.”

Zach resisted returning to his bed—the hardheaded idiot—so she shot the Romano men a glare. Once they took seats in the three additional chairs that had mysteriously appeared in Zach’s room during lunch, Gabi sank into the bedside chair. And Zach chose to sit on the end of the bed, probably because that kept him higher than the others, Savannah thought.

Leaning against the door, Savannah glanced from one Romano man to the next. Wow. They do look alike. Even Gabi. She and Zach had the same eyes. How had she missed the family resemblance in the past?

Zach’s gaze, too, shifted from one to the other. Finally, his voice tight, he said, “Somebody explain.”

The guys all looked at Gabi. She shook her head, blinking back tears. Lucca went and sat beside her on the bed, his expression tender. Understandably, Gabi had been a bit shaky ever since the shooting.

Max leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and began. “It’s not an uncommon story, but it’s one we only learned about in March when our father died. I saw Mother add something to Dad’s casket right before they closed it. After the funeral, I asked her sister, our aunt Bridget, what it was. She’d had too much wine and she spilled the beans. It was a baby’s footprint. The baby Mother had given away.

“Our parents were teenage sweethearts from opposite sides of the tracks. Her parents were wealthy, her father an Irishman who owned a string of filling stations in Philly. Dad’s family were recent Italian immigrants doing whatever they could to get by. Mom was fifteen when she got pregnant. Her parents sent her away to have the baby and give it … give you … up for adoption. After Mom returned to Philly, she continued to see Dad on the sly. She never told him about you.”

Zach’s gaze sought Savannah’s. He patted the bed next to him, and when she sat, he took her hand.

“On Mom’s eighteenth birthday, they ran off and got married.”

“And had four more kids,” Zach said, and Savannah wondered if he heard the bitterness in his voice.

Gabi spoke up, her tone anxious and entreating. “Aunt Bridget said Mom has always mourned you, that every year on your birthday, she’d call Bridget sobbing for Giovanni. That’s what she named you. Giovanni Liam, the Italian and the Irish. All our names are that way. She said Dad wouldn’t have forgiven her, and that’s why she kept the secret. She was only fifteen, Zach.”

Zach’s thumb stroked over Savannah’s hand. She gently leaned against him, careful not to jostle him, silently offering comfort. Zach looked at Max. “This was the reason for your visit earlier this year? You came to check me out? Did I pass muster?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Max said, looking a little guilty. They all looked a little guilty. “It’s all about Mom. She hasn’t been the same since Dad died. It was unexpected. A heart attack. Mom has been … lost. She dropped thirty pounds she couldn’t afford to lose. She stopped leaving the house. Aunt Bridget browbeat her into going away—a sisters’ trip to Europe that they’d promised each other for years. They’re due back next week.”

Zach looked at Gabi. “Does she know about the shooting?”

Gabi shook her head. “That’s news better imparted in person.”

“So how did you track me down? I went through all my parents’ papers after they died. I didn’t see anything about my birth parents.”

The Romano men shared a glance. Lucca said, “This person who helped us could get in a lot of trouble if you wanted to push it.”

“I won’t.”

“A priest at Mom’s local parish helped facilitate the placement and adoption,” Max continued. “He knew where you were. Apparently, when Mom got pregnant with the twins, she talked to him about telling Dad and trying to bring you home. But he told Mom you were happy in a good place with a family who loved you. She decided it wasn’t right to disrupt your life.”

“So this priest has kept tabs on me all these years?”

“No. But he cares about our family and he gave us the Turners’ name. We tracked you down.”

Anthony said, “You have to understand that our mother’s grief is … well, it’s beyond what is normal. We are truly afraid it will kill her. Aunt Bridget says the trip hasn’t helped as we’d hoped. We are hoping that you might be the medicine she needs.”

“But we’re not going to force it, Zach,” Gabi assured him. “If you don’t want to be part of our family, then no harm, no foul. Mom will never know a thing about it.”

“Despite the fact that our sister took a life to save yours,” Anthony added.

Gabi snapped, “Tony!”

He shrugged but met Zach’s arched brow stare with a challenging gaze of his own. Gabi added, “The two have nothing to do with one another. It’s my job. I’m good at it.”

“She is,” Zach said. “One of the best deputies I’ve ever had, though, apparently not the most honest.”

“I never lied to you, Zach,” Gabi said, her voice fierce.

“You didn’t tell the whole truth.”

She lifted her chin. “I saved your sorry butt, though, didn’t I?”

Zach offered her a warm smile. “So I understand, Deputy. So I understand.”

The room fell silent as Zach took some time to think. Throughout, his thumb continued to stroke Savannah’s hand. They had never had that talk that had been due the day of the shooting. She didn’t think it mattered anymore. Everything that needed to be said had been said with those three oh-so-important words.

“You’ve been quiet, Peach.”

“I’m listening to you think out loud.”

His lips flirted with a smile. “What am I saying?”

“That despite it all, the most important thing is that you’ve been offered a gift—a family. Whether you choose to accept it, though, is your call. Only you can make the choice.”

She had no doubt about what he would decide. She’d told Gabi as much when Gabi had confessed the whole story in Savannah’s hospital room. And yet Zach deserved the opportunity to make the decision. Savannah had demanded as much during one of those horrible, touch-and-go days when Gabi had been a mess and wanted to summon her mother back from Europe to be at her eldest son’s side “while she still can.”

Savannah forgave Gabi that comment due to extenuating circumstances, but she’d banished her from the hospital until she rid herself of every last negative thought. Irish and Italian. No wonder Gabi’s emotions ran the gamut!

“You all need to understand that I had parents. Great parents. I loved them very much. And I have a family—brothers and sisters of my heart—in my friends in Eternity Springs.”

“You are a lucky man,” Lucca said.

“Believe me, I know that. Because I also have two extraordinary women in my life whom I love. Savannah, soon to be my wife, who threw herself in front of a bullet for me, and—”

Savannah jerked up straight. “What? Excuse me? Did I miss something here? I don’t recall receiving or accepting a marriage proposal.”

Zach just grinned and continued, “And Gabriella, my calm, cool, collected sister, who had my back when it counted.”

Calm, cool, collected Gabriella burst into tears.

The Romano men—all four of them—smiled. Zach said, “So how do you want to do this? Do you want me to go to her? Do you want to bring her to me? I don’t want the shock to kill her. Can she handle this?”

“Mom needs to come to Eternity Springs,” Gabi said through her tears. “It’s special. What we heard about it at first … it’s true. Actually …” She gave Zach a bravely sassy smile. “Eternity Springs will probably heal her heart all on its own. She doesn’t need you.”

Zach rolled his eyes in mock disgust and met his brothers’ gazes. “Sisters.”

God’s paintbrush set the mountains aglow with wide swaths of gold, orange, and crimson as autumn settled on Eternity Springs. The promise of snow was in the air as Zach pulled his Range Rover to a stop at the parking area for Lover’s Leap.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Savannah told him. “It’s a rough trail. What if you slip and fall?”

“No one is going to slip and fall, Peach. We have each other to lean on, don’t we?”

She let out a huff. “You are impossible. It’s too soon.”

“If we wait another week, it’ll be too late. The snows are coming. I need to see the season off from up here. It will fortify me for what’s ahead. Now, come along with me, Savannah, and quit your fretting. I’m the one who gets to be nervous. I’m the one meeting my mother this afternoon.”

Savannah took his hand and squeezed it. “It’ll be okay, Zach. No matter what.”

“I know. I’m nervous, but excited, too. I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t resent her or her decisions. I think it all happened the way it was meant to happen. I had a great childhood. Mom always said I was hers and Dad’s greatest joy. Mrs. Romano did that for them. For us.”

“Mrs. Romano?”

He shrugged. “She may be my mother, but she’s not my mom. I didn’t even ask what her name is.”

“Maggie,” Savannah said.

“Oh.” Zach drew in a deep breath, then sighed. “It’s a little overwhelming. To go from having no family to having a mother, the Three Stooges, and Gabi.”

Savannah laughed. “Three stooges, huh? Now there’s a brotherly sentiment.”

He grinned and changed the subject. “Let’s go. I didn’t drive up here to sit in the car and talk. Although, if you wanted to sit in the car and neck, I could be persuaded.”

“Now there’s a shocker. No necking, Turner. I know you, and you wouldn’t want to stop at necking. But you’re not going any further until you’ve been cleared by your doctor.”

“Spoilsport.” He leaned over and kissed her, then climbed out of the Range Rover.

She wrestled the picnic basket away from him and fretted every minute of the hike up to the point, watching him like a hawk. The man was pushing himself too hard during this recovery. He simply didn’t use good sense. This picnic he’d insisted on was a prime example. By the time the picnic bench came into view, she was a nervous wreck.

There’s not a limit on nervous. We can both be nervous.

She suspected he’d brought her up here to ask her to marry him.

The confounded man had never said another word about the subject since leaving the hospital. Sex, yes. He’d been complaining about the lack of that for a week now. But he hadn’t said one word about a wedding.

He sat on top of the picnic bench and Savannah searched his face for signs of pain before taking a seat beside him. “You are such a worrywart,” he told her.

“Yeah, well, I’ve earned the right,” she grumbled. “I lived through three days of hell not knowing if you were going to live at all, Zach Turner.”

He laced his fingers with hers and brought her hand up and kissed it. “We’re both recovering, though, aren’t we?”

She sighed. “Yes. Are you hungry? Do you want your sandwich?”

“Sit with me awhile first, Savannah. Let’s just be here, together, for a little while.”

“That sounds lovely.”

And it was. She didn’t know how long they sat without talking, simply staring out at the breathtaking vista beyond. Ten minutes? Twenty? However long, it was soothing. A comforting, healing stretch of time.

Eventually Zach said, “I bought a plane ticket this morning.”

A plane ticket? Not tickets, plural? Like for a honeymoon? “Oh? Where are you going?”

“To Atlanta. With you and TJ.”

“What? No, you’re not. We leave next week. You can’t make that trip. We’ve already talked about this ad nauseam. Why, the trip home from Gunnison almost put you back in the hospital. No. Absolutely not. I won’t have it.”

“I went to the clinic yesterday. Rose cleared me for the trip.”

“But—”

“I’ll be fine. It’s a plane ride and a car ride. I’ll be sitting on my ass most of the time. I don’t want you making that trip without me. It’d be worse for my health to stay at home. We’d do a role-reversal thing and I’d worry myself sick, and then what would you do? Besides, I want to see TJ in his new digs and meet his dad.”

Savannah knew that what really worried him was the possibility that Gary would be an ass. “Zach, I’ve talked to Gary. It’s … better. Not great, but okay. A little awkward, but that’s understandable. We have some bridges to build.”

“Which is why I want to be there.”

Truth be told, Savannah wanted him there, too. “Rose really said you’d be okay?”

“She really did.”

Savannah blew out a long breath. “Okay, I admit it. I’ll be very glad to have you with me. Seeing Gary again … and I’m so worried for TJ. What if my brother screws up again? TJ will be devastated.”

“Well, yeah. On the other hand, if that happens this time around, we’ll be there for him and he’ll know it. But I have a feeling it’s going to go well, honey. I talked to the authorities who oversee that treatment program. It’s had amazing success. Your brother has worked hard to get where he is. Despite his faults, he wants to be a father to his son. He and TJ deserve this chance.”

“I know. He’s so excited.” She watched a bird swoop from the top of a golden aspen to alight on the green branch of a fir. “I’m going to miss him.”

“I know. I will, too. He’s a good kid. So, how about that sandwich? What kind did you bring us?”

“My grandmother’s pimento cheese.” She opened her basket and pulled out their lunch. “Fruit slices. Carrot sticks.”

He waited, and when she said nothing more, he actually whined a little and reached for the basket. “No chips? No peach cobbler?”

Savannah laughed and slapped his hand, then tossed him a bag of corn chips. “You have to eat the carrot sticks before you get cobbler.”

“Nag.”

They ate their lunch in companionable silence. Once he’d polished off his meal, Zach wadded up his napkin and shot a paper basketball into the picnic basket. When Savannah finished, he climbed down from the picnic bench and offered her his hand. Their fingers laced, they walked toward the safety railing at the edge of the point and stood, gazing out at the valley below. Zach said, “This is a special place.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“True, but that’s not why it’s special.” He faced her, gently touched her cheek. “It’s special because this is where I met you.”

She melted, even as her heart began to pound. This is it. He’s going to ask me to marry him.

“That’s sweet. You’re sweet, Zach.”

His expression rueful, he said, “That’s me, Mr. Sweet. Better than Barney Fife, I guess.”

Savannah shook her head and laughed at them both. “You never were Barney Fife. You’ve always been Andy Taylor. Tall, smart, sexy Sheriff Andy.”

“You thought Sheriff Taylor was sexy?”

“Absolutely.”

“He wasn’t a little too … good?”

Savannah clicked her tongue and teased, “Now, Sheriff, a man can never be too good.”

He leaned down and kissed her, long and thoroughly, and Savannah melted against him, her heart soaring. When he pulled away, those gorgeous blue eyes of his stared down into hers. “I love you, Savannah Sophia Moore.”

“I love you, too, Zach Turner.”

He kissed her again, quickly, then said, “I have something for you. I wanted to give it to you up here.”

Of course. She should have realized it. How perfect that he’d give her a ring here where they began. “Okay.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a … not an engagement ring. Savannah gasped, brought a hand to her mouth.

It was a dirty, ragged muslin bag with a dirty, ragged blue ribbon. “Zach. You found it. How did you find it? Where?”

“I just happened to see it one day when I was out walking on the ranch.” He handed it to her.

She clasped it to her chest. “Just happened to see it. Right.”

“Maybe I went searching for it on the ranch. A few times.”

“A few times? A few hours? Hours and hours and hours?”

He shrugged. “It was important to you.”

“Oh, Zach. Thank you.” She went up on her tiptoes and pressed kisses against his mouth, his cheeks, his nose, saying, “Thank you … thank you … thank you.”

Finally he grabbed her face between his palms and gave her mouth a hard, carnal kiss. “You’re welcome.”

Once she was steady on her feet again, he let her go. “This was nice, Savannah. I’m glad we could do this.”

“Me too.”

“You ready to go?” He turned and started walking back toward the picnic table.

Go? Now? She stood staring after him, her mouth gaping open.

He picked up the picnic basket and his walking stick, then turned to wait for her. “Savannah?”

“Go? Now? Like this?”

“Um … yeah? I admit I’m getting a little tired.”

“But …” She put her hands on her hips. “What about my ring?”

“What ring?” He honestly looked puzzled.

The jerk. “My engagement ring!”

Light dawned. “You thought I was going to give you an engagement ring today?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, stepping toward him. “It’s been three weeks, Turner! What’s the deal? Three weeks ago in front of your family, your brand-new family, you toss out the word wife and then you never bring up the subject again? For three whole weeks?”

Savannah knew she was sounding a bit like a fishwife, but she didn’t really care. “Then you bring me up here. To the place we met. What was I supposed to think?”

“Oh.”

She waited a beat. “That’s all you have to say for yourself? ‘Oh’?”

Zach lifted his face toward the sky and sighed long and loud. “For crying out loud, Savannah. Think about it. Think about who you run with. I have some pressure here. This is Eternity Springs! The last marriage proposal that happened in this town was done from a hang glider above a field of roses that spelled out the words ‘Marry Me.’ I may not have Jack Davenport’s money or his larger-than-life CIA-agent background, but I can darn well throw down a romantic marriage proposal that’ll make you swoon and give you a fairy-tale story to tell our grandchildren someday. Only you’re going to have to cut me a little slack. I’m recovering from a near fatal gunshot wound, here, and you need to pay attention to the verb tense. That’s recovering. Not have recovered. You need to be patient and give me time. Because just like marriage is a two-way street, proposals are a two-way street. It’s my proposal, too, and when it happens, I want more than romance. I want down-and-dirty, toe-curling, sweaty, steaming, screaming sex. So, honey, you’re just gonna have to cool your jets for a few more weeks while I get my strength back. Got it?”

Savannah swallowed hard and considered fanning her face. “Yes, dear.”

“Good. Okay, then. Are you ready to leave? I have to go meet my mother.”

“Yes, dear.”

Savannah fought a smile, knowing her eyes were twinkling as she walked up next to him, appropriated the picnic basket, and slipped her arm through his. “Zach, can I ask you one question?”

He sidled her a suspicious look. “Just one?”

“Just one. I promise.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“Are you taking your vitamins?”

“Damn right I am.” His lips twitched, then he leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss against her cheek. “Come on, Peach. Let’s go home.”

At two o’clock that afternoon, grasping Savannah’s hand in a viselike grip, Zach stepped up to the door of Nightingale Cottage along the bank of Angel Creek on the grounds of Angel’s Rest Healing Center and Spa. He rapped on the door.

Footsteps approached. The door swung open. A trim woman with auburn hair dressed in jeans, boots, and a University of Colorado sweatshirt opened the door. She had wounded blue eyes, high cheekbones, a thin straight nose, and full lips that needed some color.

She was short. Five foot three, five foot four at the most. Did he have the right cabin? How the hell had this woman given birth to four sons well over six feet tall and a daughter who stood five foot nine in her stocking feet? “Mrs. Romano?”

“Yes?”

He swallowed hard. Savannah squeezed his hand reassuringly. He cleared his throat and said, “I’m …”

He couldn’t say any more. He had a boulder of emotion in his throat. Trying again, he said, “My name is—”

Her gasp cut him off. She took a step forward. Placed her hand against his chest. Touched him. Then the hand traveled up to his face, warm and soft.

“Giovanni. Oh, sweet angels above. You are my Giovanni.”


For the angels who bless my life


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


My thanks to the entire team at Ballantine for their fabulous support: Libby McGuire; Gina Wachtel; Scott Shannon; Linda Marrow; Lynn Andreozzi and the art department; Janet Wygal and the production department; my editor, Kate Collins; and Junessa Viloria. A special thanks to retired sheriff Mr. Jim Brand and my legal team in Boston, who assisted me in the development of Savannah’s criminal history. To Nic Burnham, Mary Dickerson, Christina Dodd, Lisa Kleypas, and Susan Sizemore—Eternity Springs lives because of you. Thank you.