Chapter Eight
Savannah wrapped a blue twisty tie around her ponytail while she looked out the window at the pristine snow sparkling under the clear blue sky. Her thoughts were on Ryder, and even though she’d wanted to ask a slew of questions about the woman and boy in the photograph, she picked up that it wasn’t the right time. There had been so much pain, despair, and bitterness in his eyes before he turned away from her. I wonder what happened. Where’s his son now, and why doesn’t he have contact with him? She gently kneaded the side of her neck—another one of her habits which drove Bret crazy. Maybe she ran away with the boy like I’m doing with Timmy. Guilt assaulted her, and she wondered if such rashness would ultimately end in Timmy resenting her when he grew older. Bret’s words—I told you I didn’t want the fucking brat—echoed through her head as if on autoplay. How many times had he repeated that since Timmy was born? No … I made the right decision. Bret is cruel, cold, and manipulative. Squeezing her eyes shut, she banished the images of the last time she’d seen him from her thoughts; the memories of that day always loomed in the dark, shadowy corners of her mind, threatening to crawl out and torment her.
The creak of the door was a life savior to Savannah, and she turned around and smiled when she saw Timmy. He had a bright-red painted firetruck in his hand, and he shuffled over to her and laid his head against her leg. She buried her fingers in his hair and massaged his scalp gently.
“What’s going on, honey?”
“I miss Grammy and Grandpa,” he said against her jeans.
She stood still and silent, her heart aching.
“When are we gonna see them?”
Inhaling sharply, she placed her fingers under his chin and tilted his head back so their gazes locked. “I’m not sure, sweetie. I know this is hard, but once we get settled, they’ll come out to see us, okay?”
“Why can’t they come now?”
“The roads are still blocked. How would they be able to drive here?” She held her breath then released it as the sadness slipped from her young son’s face.
“Yeah. When the snow melts they can come.”
“That’s right.” She bent down and kissed his soft cheeks. “Let’s call Grammy and Grandpa. You can tell them all about the snow.”
“And Brutus,” Timmy added.
Savannah hugged him. “I love you,” she whispered. “Where did you get that nifty firetruck?”
“Ryder gave it to me. He made it. It has lights and it makes noise. Look.” Timmy dropped to his knees and turned on the toy. The headlights switched on and a siren blared from the wooden truck as it sped across the floor.
“That’s awesome,” she said, sitting on her haunches.
“He said he’s going to build me a firehouse, too, with a pole and everything.” Timmy’s eyes shone with excitement.
“I can’t wait to see it, honey.” Savannah stood up and picked up the burner phone. “I’m going to call Grammy and Grandpa now. After we’re done talking, you can go with Ryder and Brutus for a quick walk.”
“Can we build a snowman later?”
“Yes, we can. After lunch, we’ll get to it. Maybe Ryder will help us out.”
“I think he will. He’s nice.”
Savannah’s lips curved up as warmth rushed through her. Timmy held her soul in his heart, and her heart was forever his; she’d walk through hell and back to make sure he was safe and loved. A lump formed in her throat, and she cleared her throat several times before tapping in her parents’ phone number.
“Hi, Mom. How’re you and Dad?”
“I’m so happy to hear from you. We’re all fine. How’re you and Timmy?”
“Good.”
“Let me speak to Grammy,” Timmy said, tugging on her jeans.
“Timmy wants to say hi. Hang on.” She passed the phone to him, then bent over and picked up the miniature firetruck, marveling at how well made it was.
After several minutes of conversation with both her mother and father, Timmy handed back the phone then left the room in search of Brutus.
“Who’s this man you’re staying with? Do you know anything about him?”
Savannah’s stomach churned. I’m so not into this right now. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she paused before answering. “He’s helping us out. If it wasn’t for him, we would’ve frozen to death in the blizzard.”
“Not if you weren’t so impetuous. Why couldn’t you have reached out to your father and me before rushing into this crazy plan of yours? What if this man is a serial killer or a child molester? You don’t know anything about him. You should be home with your husband. We’re very disappointed in you.”
“I’m sorry to worry all of you, but you have to trust that I know what I’m doing. And Ryder is a kind-hearted person.”
“How do you know that?”
“I feel it. I’m good at reading people. You were the one who pushed me into marrying Bret—my instincts told me that it probably wouldn’t work since so many of our core values were different.”
“So now this is my fault? I just wanted what any mother wants for her daughter—to be taken care of by a decent man. Bret gave you a life that none of the losers you dated ever could.”
Savannah heard her mother sniffling and her chest tightened. “Mom, please don’t be so upset. I’m not blaming you for anything. I’m just asking you to have some faith in me. Once I get settled, I promise to tell you the real reason why I decided to leave Bret.”
“Leaving is one thing, but turning your back on your family and taking Timmy away from his grandparents just isn’t right. We never did anything but love and support you even when you gave us a hard time as a teenager.”
Here it goes … “Is Dad there? I’d like to say hi to him.”
“I’m just saying, you should’ve come home to us.”
“I don’t want Corrine to get her claws into Timmy. She’s been sabotaging me since Bret slipped a wedding band on my finger. Timmy’s her first grandchild, and she’ll stop at nothing to take him away from me. I can’t fight their money.”
“Aren’t you being a little paranoid? I just spoke to Bret a few days ago, and he’s very worried about you. He misses you and Timmy.”
“Just trust me,” Savannah whispered. “I’d like to speak with Dad.”
Without another word, she heard her mother say, “It’s Savannah on the phone.”
“Hi, Curly,” her dad said.
Tears filled her eyes as a warm glow radiated through her. Ever since she was little, her dad always called her “Curly.” Savannah figured it was because she had curly hair up until she was about four or five, then it relaxed into wavy hair. When she was a kid, it’d made her feel special to be called something unique. When she had gotten married, her dad told her that he probably should stop calling her Curly, and she’d made him promise to never stop. At that moment, it meant the world to her just to hear the familiar nickname.
“Hi, Dad. I’m so sorry about every—”
“No need for any of that. I know you had your reasons, and you’ll tell us when you’re ready. The important thing is you’re safe, but I wish I could call you.”
“Thanks for understanding, Dad. I didn’t come to this decision lightly, but I had to get away. I don’t want to spend another second with Bret. He’s an awful man and a horrible father.”
“You know him better than any of us. I wish you’d have told me or your brothers what was going on—we would’ve straightened him out.”
Savannah laughed. “I don’t doubt that.”
She and her dad talked for a long time, and his reassurance, support, and love calmed her frazzled nerves. Before she hung up, her mother came back on the phone.
“We love you. Be careful and call us soon. Where are you at right now?”
“Near Pinewood Springs, in Colorado. I’ll give you the number of my new phone in case you need to get a hold of me. But please, Mom, I’m begging you not to tell Bret where I am, and don’t give him my phone number—I don’t want to hear from him.”
“Okay. Now let me get a pen and paper.” Some shuffling in the background. “What’s your number?”
After saying their goodbyes, Savannah stuffed the phone in her pocket as second thoughts about giving out her number pricked at her brain. Mom means well, but I hope she doesn’t give out any of my info to Bret. She just wants us to stay together, but that’ll never be. It’s over.
She swiped on another coat of raspberry lip gloss and walked out of the room.
* * *
After helping Ryder and Timmy build a kickass snowman, Savannah stood by the kitchen window waiting for the kettle to boil while she gazed at the ice man, wearing a purple-checkered scarf snug around his neck, standing vigil in front of the house. Timmy had been happy as he hunted for tree branches to make Freezy’s arms in the small area Ryder had managed to clear. During the past two days, the heat from the sun had helped in melting a bit of the snow on the east side of the cabin.
A blast of chilly air swept around her legs as Timmy and Brutus rushed in.
“Brutus!” Ryder yelled. The dog’s tail went between his legs as he padded back to the mud room.
Timmy froze in his tracks and stared at Savannah. “I forgot to take my boots and jacket off.” He spun around and quickly followed Brutus.
“Do you want me to help you?” she asked.
“I can do it alone, Mommy.”
“All right, but if you need help with your boots, let me know.” Savannah grabbed a bunch of paper towels and wiped away the tracks the two had left on the floor. By the time she’d finished, Timmy, Ryder, and Brutus traipsed in. She glanced at Ryder and his gaze latched onto hers.
“Who wants hot cocoa?” she asked, looking at him.
“I don’t, Mommy. I’m gonna play my game.” Timmy yawned.
Breaking contact with Ryder, Savannah smiled at her son. “Building a snowman is hard work, isn’t it?”
“It sure is.”
Savannah laughed and watched him shuffle toward his room with Brutus following him. “Would you like some hot chocolate?” she asked him.
Shaking his head, he fixed her with an unwavering stare.
“What about some tea?”
This time, a slight shake of the head.
“I think I’ll make myself a chai latte. I love the blend of spices.” She opened a small cupboard and pulled out a box of chai teabags she’d brought with her from the trailer, then took out a carton of milk from the fridge. “There’s something comforting about a cup of hot tea. All I need is a good book, and I’ll be set.” She giggled softly and glanced at him.
Ryder’s tongue glided slowly across his bottom lip as the naked heat in his stare seared her. Muscles deep inside tightened as a thousand butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
The shrill whistle of the boiling teapot pierced the air. Savannah jumped and clutched at her throat as she tore her gaze away from Ryder and looked at the billowing steam above the screeching kettle. A nervous laugh escaped her lips as she removed it from the burner.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Ryder watching her as she poured hot water into the mug. “Dammit,” she said as some of it spilled on the counter. Glancing up at him, Savannah froze as his eyes smoldered with lust. She put the tea kettle down, then picked up a napkin to wipe up the spill and turned toward him, her heart slamming against her ribcage. Savannah was pretty sure that Ryder could shatter her heart in pieces if she wasn’t careful. She was more fragile than he knew, but he tempted her in ways she wasn’t willing to admit.
“I don’t bite,” he said gruffly.
“It’s not that,” she replied, throwing the dirty napkin in the trash. “I just don’t want to be hurt.”
“I’m not gonna hurt you—I’d never do that.”
“Famous last words of men.” She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter.
Ryder reached out and grabbed her arm and gently tugged her to him. “I’m not men, I’m me, and I’d never hurt you.”
Savannah pressed her lips together as she stared at him, resisting for one long pause, her emotions tangled in a ball of confusion by this brooding and mysterious man. Then she leaned into him wanting his touch and so much more than she could articulate.
“You know we both feel it, Savannah—this fucking deep attraction between us. I’ve been trying to fight it, too, but it hasn’t done any damn good. You’re the most beautiful and genuine woman I’ve ever met, and the way you love your son is”—he ran his fingers through his hair—“so fucking honest and unconditional.”
Savannah fixed her gaze on Ryder’s brown eyes, the scowl that darkened his features, and the ever-present haunted look which kept his secrets at bay.
“I’ve never met such an intriguing man before,” she murmured.
His grip on her tightened, and his hand burned into her skin, making her nerves snap and sizzle.
Ryder’s thumb traced along her jawline and then her lower lip. “You feel the pull … the connection, don’t you?” he asked, his voice was rough as sandpaper, a sexy rasp that sent tingles down her spine.
Savannah swallowed, trying to moisten her dry mouth. “Yes,” she said in a breathy voice. Her knees wobbled and she gripped the counter to stop herself from keeling over. She felt like all the strain of the past few years was draining out of her.
Ryder’s thumb stroked her cheek, and her insides turned to mush. Her pulse thundered in her head as she leaned in slightly and inhaled his earthy male scent and the spicy aroma of his cologne. He placed his hands on each side of her face and looked deeply into her eyes.
“I’m fucked up real bad,” he said, his hot breath dancing across her cheeks.
“So am I,” she whispered.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pull away,” he gritted, his gaze dark, mesmerizing, dangerous.
“Playing it safe is overrated,” she replied.
A low growl escaped from his throat as he closed the gap between them and lowered his head. Her lids fluttered closed as she parted her lips, the anticipation quivering through her.
Then his mouth covered hers and it was like a million watts of electricity sparking between them. Savannah wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with a ferocity she didn’t know she possessed. It was a hot, fast, wild tangle of mouths. Her hands twisted in his hair, drawing him closer, needing more of that fierceness … that passion. Goosebumps skittered over her and desire burned like fire in her veins. Images swarmed in her mind of them coming together, his wicked mouth scorching a trail down her body while his fingers pushed the right buttons inside her.
The kiss grew deeper, more frantic, as their lips fused together in raw hunger. Heat rippled off him as he ground against her, and she moaned at the intensity of that feeling.
Then he broke away and stepped back, her body immediately aching to be back in his arms. Disappointment rushed through her as she stared at him.
Savannah saw the muscles in Ryder’s jaw pulse as he scrubbed the side of his face. “That shouldn’t have happened.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We—”
“I gotta do some stuff.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, he sauntered out of the kitchen.
Savannah watched his retreating back, telling herself she was glad, and even relieved, that he pulled away. Yet, a long buried part of her wanted him to come back and kiss her again—to crush her against him as his strong arms held her tight, taking them further. She picked up the mug of cool tea and dumped it down the sink. It’s just as well he stopped. Taking anything further with him would be a huge mistake. I can’t get involved with Ryder. The man had a dark edge to him that scared and excited her at the same time. At this point in her life, the last thing she needed was a complication, and Ryder had “complication” stamped all over him. Even if he was sexier than sin and could kiss like no other man she’d ever met, she couldn’t risk her heart—it already had too many cracks that still needed healing.
With Ryder’s kiss still burning hot on her lips, Savannah filled up the teapot again and put it back on the burner. The last thing she wanted to do was obsess about what had happened and all the feelings twisting inside her, so she walked over to the pantry and rummaged through it. She found a box of lasagna noodles and several cans of San Marzano crushed tomatoes. Cooking had always been her refuge when stress threatened to shut her down. During her marriage, she’d become a gourmet cook, especially since Timmy’s birth because that’s the way she’d dealt with the slow disintegration of her marriage.
Making a hearty Italian dinner would occupy her mind for the next few hours, and that’s exactly what she needed. She bent down and pulled out several pans and focused on creating the best meal ever.
* * *
“Damn, woman, your lasagna trumped my mom’s,” Ryder said as he cleared off the dishes. “Do you have some Italian blood running through your veins?”
Savannah laughed, happy that Ryder had finally spoken to her. Dinner was awkward between them, but she focused on Timmy while Ryder’s penetrating gaze during the meal ensured that she wouldn’t forget he was there.
“I worked for a few years at a family-owned Italian restaurant in Cambridge. Luisa sort of took me under her wing. Her daughter had gotten married and moved to Oregon, and it killed both Luisa and her husband, Carlo, so I became their surrogate daughter. They were wonderful people, and I felt privileged that she shared her family’s recipes with me. So you’re Italian?”
“Yeah—on both sides. Last name’s Rossi. Why’d you quit waitressing?”
“I got married.”
“To Daddy,” Timmy chimed in, and she smiled and ruffled his hair.
“That’s right, sweetie.”
Timmy turned back around and watched the Christmas cartoon, and Savannah followed suit. As she stared at the screen, she was acutely aware of Ryder’s eyes on her. She pivoted her head slightly in his direction and caught him gazing at her chest. He quickly looked back to the TV and stretched out his good leg.
Savannah licked her lips and tried to concentrate on the show Timmy was watching. For the life of her, she had no idea what was going on and stared blankly at a slew of elves scurrying back and forth across the screen. She sneaked a peek at Ryder to make sure he wasn’t looking then lowered her gaze to the big bulge pressing against his jeans. Blood rushed to her head in fear of getting caught, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Then his hand dropped casually down on his thigh and she froze, knowing full well that when she looked up she’d meet his brown orbs. I can’t believe I let him catch me looking at his groin. Her tongue ran across her bottom lip as she debated what to do.
“If you don’t stop looking at my dick while licking your lips, there’s gonna be trouble, woman,” he said in a low voice.
Savannah snapped her eyes up and Ryder’s gaze traveled over her body briefly before landing on her face. They stared at each other for a long while, the sexual tension crackling between them at a frantic pace. Then Ryder stood up and turned away quickly, muttering something about having to take Brutus outside. The poor dog was stretched out on the floor next to Timmy, and Ryder had to whistle at least three times before Brutus scrambled to his feet.
When he came back about ten minutes later, Brutus padded over to the same spot on the floor and laid down, and Ryder made his way to his bedroom. Savannah figured that’d be the last she’d see of him that night, and a part of her—albeit a very small part—was sorry they’d kissed earlier that day. Things were just becoming comfortable between them, and they had to ruin it by kissing. From his actions alone, Ryder had made it clear that it had been a big mistake, and that really stung.
After watching two hours of cartoons, two cups of hot chocolate, and several Christmas cookies, Savannah bent down and kissed her son’s cheek. “Sleep well,” she whispered as he yawned.
She closed the light and left the door ajar then went into her room and slipped between the sheets. In less than a second, she’d fallen into a deep sleep.
“No! No! Fuck!”
Savannah bolted up in bed—she was disoriented. It took her a few seconds to work out that she was not in the trailer but in the cabin because of the snowstorm. Timmy! She jumped out of bed and rushed into his room. The hallway light spilled over his bed in a rectangle, and she went over and saw his arm hugging his favorite stuffed tiger. She pulled the blanket over his shoulder and smiled. I must’ve been dreaming.
“Go back, Jeremy. Get the fuck away!”
Ryder! Savannah slipped out of Timmy’s room and made her way to Ryder’s as shivers tiptoed up her spine.
“No! Fuck no!”
Standing before the closed door, she swallowed then gathered the tattered edges of her courage and turned the knob. Darkness encased her and she waited until her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room.
“I fucking shot a kid! Get back, Jeremy. I got this!”
Ryder’s anguished-filled voice bounced off the walls, and she slowly approached the bed. “Ryder? It’s me Savannah.”
“I’m hit. Goddammit! Jeremy, go back! There’re fucking landmines everywhere. Don’t follow me!”
He was in the war. That’s how he lost his leg. Oh, Ryder. Savannah climbed up on the bed and breathed in and out several times before she reached out and gently shook him.
“It’s okay, Ryder. You’re okay,” she said in a calm, reassuring voice.
He groaned and cursed while tossing and turning, but she kept a steady hand on his shoulder and shook him several times. It seemed to have helped because he stopped yelling.
“Where are you?” he grunted.
“I’m here.” She came closer and ran her hand over his sweat-soaked face. “You’re okay.”
“Where’s Jeremy? Is he in the Medevac? Where the hell is he?” His voice began to rise again.
“You’re in Colorado, Ryder.”
“I’m in the fucking Chinook. Why won’t you tell me where the fuck Jeremy is?”
Again she gently shook him, then leaned over and grabbed some tissues from the box on the nightstand, and mopped his face. “It’s okay.”
“Am I in a war?” he gritted.
“No, you’re safe in your cabin. Brutus is sleeping on the floor, and I’m Savannah. Everything is just fine. We’re all safe.” She cuddled his head on her lap and rocked slowly like she did when Timmy had a bad dream—it always calmed him.
“Fuck,” he said in a low voice.
“It’s all okay.”
“I’m in Pinewood Springs.”
“Yes, you’re home and you’re safe, and nothing can hurt you.”
Silence engulfed them as Savannah ran her fingers through his damp hair, still cradling his head in her lap. Seconds turned to minutes before he gripped her hand and tucked it under his chin. His heavy breathing told her he’d fallen asleep.
Slipping her legs under the sheets, she held on to him. There was no way she was going to let go. Ryder was a lonely and broken man, and she was an angry and scared woman. For a split, second she wondered if fate had brought them together to heal one another.
Maybe there’s something to Christmas wishes.
Ryder’s arm flung over her thighs as he let out a sputtering sigh. Savannah smiled and leaned against the headboard as his breathing quietly lulled her to sleep.