Looking for a Hero

by Debbie Macomber

  “That’s so romantic,” Savannah murmured. “If you don’t object, I’d like to advertise it that way.”

  Nash’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “You want to use that in an ad?”

  “If you don’t mind. I won’t mention your name, unless you want me to.”

  “No! I mean... Can we just drop this?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “You didn’t,” he said, when it was clear that she had. “I seem to have done this to myself.” He made a point of looking at his watch. “Are you ready?”

  Savannah nodded. This could prove to be an interesting picnic....

  They drove to Lake Sammamish in Nash’s car and he seemed extra talkative. “Arnold Serle asked about you the other day,” he told her as he wove in and out of traffic.

  “He’s a darling,” Savannah said, savoring the memories of the two older men who’d worked so hard to bolster her self-confidence, vying for her the way they had. “Mr. Stackhouse, too,” she added.

  “You certainly made an impression on them.”

  Although the night had ended in disaster, she would always treasure it. Dancing with John and Arnold. Dancing with Nash...

  “What’s the smile about?” Nash asked, momentarily taking his eyes off the road.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “The tears were nothing, too?”

  The tears. She’d almost forgotten she’d been crying when he arrived. “I was talking to my parents this afternoon,” she said as the misery returned. “It’s always the same. They talk about traveling, but they never seem to leave Seattle. Instead of really enjoying life, they smother me with their sympathy and their sacrifices, as if that could bring back the full use of my leg.” She was speaking fast and furiously, and not until she’d finished did she realize how close she was to weeping again.

  Nash’s hand touched hers for a moment. “You’re a mature adult, living independently of them,” he said. “You have for years.”

  “Which I’ve explained so many times, I get angry just thinking about it. Apparently they feel that if something were to happen, no one would be here to take care of me.”

  “What about other relatives?”

  “There aren’t any in the Seattle area. I try to reassure them that I’m fine, that no disasters are about to strike and even if one did, I have plenty of friends to call on, but they just won’t leave.”

  “Was that what upset you this afternoon?” he asked.

  Savannah dropped her gaze to her hands, now clenched tightly in her lap. “They’ve decided to stay in Seattle this winter. Good friends of theirs asked if they’d travel with them, leaving the second week of September and touring the South before spending the winter in Arizona. My dad’s always wanted to visit New Orleans and Atlanta. They said they’ll go another year,” Savannah muttered, “but I know they won’t. They know it, too.”

  “Your parents love you. I understand their concern.”

  “How can you say that?” she demanded angrily. “They’re doing this because they feel guilty about my accident. Now I’m the one who’s carrying that load. When will it ever end?”

  “I don’t know,” he said quietly.

  “I just wish they loved me enough to trust me to take care of myself. I’ve been doing exactly that for a long time now.”

  Nodding, he exited the freeway and took the road leading into Lake Sammamish State Park. He drove around until he found a picnic table close to the parking lot. The gesture was a thoughtful one; he didn’t want her to have a long way to walk.

  It might not be very subtle, but Savannah didn’t care. She was determined to enjoy their outing. She needed this. She knew it was dangerous to allow herself this luxury. She was well aware that Nash could be out of her life with little notice. That was something she’d always taken into account in other relationships, but her guard had slipped with Nash.

  He helped her out of the car and carried the wicker basket to the bright blue picnic table. The early evening was filled with a symphony of pleasant sounds. Birds chirped in a nearby tree, their song mingling with the laughter of children.

  “I’m starved,” Nash said, peering inside the basket. He raised his head and waggled his eyebrows. “My, oh, my, what goodies.”

  Savannah spread a tablecloth across one end of the table and Nash handed her a large loaf of French bread, followed by a bottle of red wine.

  “That’s for show,” he said, grinning broadly. “This is for dinner.” He took out a bucket of fried chicken and a six-pack of soda.

  “I thought you said the deli packed this.”

  “They did. I made a list of what I wanted and they packed it in the basket for me.”

  “You’re beginning to sound like a tricky defense attorney,” she said, enjoying this easy banter between them. It helped take her mind off her parents and their uncomfortable conversation that afternoon.

  They sat across from each other and with a chicken leg in front of her mouth, Savannah looked out over the blue-green water. The day was perfect. Not too warm and not too cool. The sun was shining and a gentle breeze rippled off the lake. A lifeguard stood sentinel over a group of preschool children splashing in the water between bursts of laughter. Farther out, a group of teens dived off a large platform. Another group circled the lake in two-seater pedal boats, their wake disrupting the serenity of the water.

  “You’re looking thoughtful,” Nash commented.

  Savannah blushed, a little embarrassed to be caught so enraptured with the scene before her. “When I was a teenager I used to dream a boy would ask me to pedal one of the boats with him.”

  “Did anyone?”

  “No....” A sadness attached itself to her heart, dredging up the memories of a difficult youth. “I can’t pedal.”

  “Why not? You danced, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but that’s different.”

  “How?”

  “Don’t you remember what happened after the dance?”

  “We could rent a pedal boat and I’ll do the work,” he said. “You just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

  She lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see how badly she longed to do what he’d suggested.

  “Come on,” he wheedled. “It’ll be fun.”

  “We’d go around in circles,” she countered. She wasn’t willing to try. “It won’t work if we don’t each do our share of the pedaling. I appreciate what you’re doing, but I simply can’t hold up my part.”

  “You won’t know that until you try,” he said. “Remember, you didn’t want to dance, either.” His reminder was a gentle one and it hit its mark.

  “We might end up looking like idiots.”

  “So? It’s happened before. To me, anyway.” He stood and offered her his hand. “You game or not?”

  She stared up at him, and indecision kept her rooted to the table. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

  “Come on, Savannah, prove to me that you can do this. But more importantly, prove it to yourself. I’m not going to let you overdo it, I promise.”

  His confidence was contagious. “If you’re implying that you could’ve kept me off the dance floor, think again. I danced every dance.”

  “Don’t remind me. The only way I could dance with you was to cut in on someone else. At least this way I’ll have you to myself.”

  Savannah placed her hand firmly in his, caught up in his smile.

  “If anyone else comes seeking the pleasure of your company this time,” he said, “they’ll have to swim.”

  Savannah’s mood had been painfully introspective when Nash arrived. Now, for the first time in what seemed like days, she experienced the overwhelming urge to laugh. Hugging Nash was a spontaneous reaction to the lightheartedness she felt with him.

  He stiffened when her
arms went around him, but recovered quickly, gripping her about her waist, picking her up and twirling her around until she had to beg him to stop. Breathless, she gazed at him, and said, “You make me want to sing.”

  “You make me want to—”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Sing,” he muttered, relaxing his hold enough for her feet to touch the ground.

  Savannah could have sworn his ears turned red. “I make you want to do what?” she pressed.

  “Never mind, Savannah,” he answered. “It’s better that you don’t know. And please, just this once, is it too much to ask that you don’t argue with me?”

  “Fine,” she said, pretending to be gravely disappointed. She mocked him with a deep sigh.

  They walked down to the water’s edge, where Nash paid for the rental of a small pedal boat. He helped her board and then joined her, the boat rocking precariously as he shifted his weight.

  Savannah held tightly to her seat. She remained skeptical of this idea, convinced they were going to look like a pair of idiots once they left the shore. She didn’t mind being laughed at, but she didn’t want him laughed at because of her.

  “I...don’t think we should do this,” she whispered, struck by an attack of cowardice.

  “I’m not letting you out of this now. We haven’t even tried.”

  “I’ll embarrass you.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “Nash, please.”

  He refused to listen to her and began working the pedals, making sure the pace he set wasn’t too much for her. Water rustled behind them and Savannah jerked around to see the paddle wheel churning up the water. Before she realized it, they were speeding along.

  “We’re moving,” she shouted. “We’re actually moving.”

  It seemed that everyone on the shore had turned to watch them. In sheer delight, Savannah waved her arms. “We’re actually moving.”

  “I think they’ve got the general idea,” Nash teased.

  “I could just kiss you,” Savannah said, resisting the urge to throw her arms around his neck and do exactly that.

  “You’ll need to wait a few minutes.” His hand reached for hers and he entwined their fingers.

  “Let’s go fast,” she urged, cautiously pumping her feet. “I want to see how fast we can go.”

  “Savannah...no.”

  “Yes, please, just for a little bit.”

  He groaned and then complied. The blades of the paddle behind them churned the water into a frothy texture as they shot ahead. Nash was doing most of the work. Her efforts were puny compared to his, but it didn’t seem to matter. This was more fun than she’d dared to dream. As much fun as dancing.

  Savannah laughed boisterously. “I never knew,” she said, squeezing his upper arm with both hands and pressing her head against his shoulder. “I never thought I could do this.”

  “There’s a whole world out there just waiting to be explored.”

  “I want to skydive next,” Savannah said gleefully.

  “Skydive?”

  “All right, roller-skate. I wanted to so badly when I was growing up. I used to skate before the accident, you know. I was pretty good, too.”

  “I’m sure you were.”

  “All my life I’ve felt hindered because of my leg and suddenly all these possibilities are opening up to me.” She went from one emotional extreme to the other. First joy and laughter and now tears and sadness. “Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” she said, and sniffled. “I could cry, I’m so happy.”

  Nash stiffened and Savannah wondered if she’d offended him. His reaction would have been imperceptible if they hadn’t been sitting side by side.

  Nash was pedaling harder now; her own feet were set in motion by his efforts. “Where are we going?” she asked, noting that he seemed to be steering the craft toward shore. She didn’t want to stop, not when they were just getting started. This was her one fear, that she’d embarrass him, and apparently she had.

  “See that weeping willow over on the far side of the bank?” he asked, motioning down the shoreline. She did, noting the branches draped over the water like a sanctuary. It appeared to be on private property.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re headed there.”

  “Why?” she asked, thinking of any number of plausible reasons. Perhaps he knew the people who lived there and wanted to stop and say hello.

  “Because that weeping willow offers a little more privacy than out here on the lake. And I intend to take you up on your offer, because frankly, I’m not going to be able to wait much longer.”

  Offer, she mused. What offer?

  Nash seemed to enjoy her dilemma and raised her hand to his mouth, kissing the inside of her palm. “I seem to remember you saying you wanted to kiss me. So I’m giving you the opportunity.”

  “Now?”

  “In a moment.” He steered the boat under the drooping limbs of the tree. The dense growth cut off the sunlight and cooled the late-afternoon air.

  Nash stopped and the boat settled, motionless, in the water. He turned to her and his gaze slid across her face.

  “Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

  Besides him and her parents? And they had to praise her, didn’t they? No one. Not ever. “No.”

  “Is the rest of the world blind?”

  His words were followed by silence. A silence that spanned years for Savannah. No man had looked past her flaw and seen the desirable woman she longed to be. No man but Nash.

  His mouth came down on hers, shattering the silence with his hungry need, shattering the discipline she’d held herself under all these years. She wrapped herself in his embrace and returned the kiss with the potency of her own need.

  Nash moaned and kissed her hard, and she responded with every ounce of her being. She kissed him as if she’d been waiting all her life for this moment, this man. In ways too numerous to count, she had been.

  She moaned softly, thinking nothing seemed enough. Nash made her greedy. She wanted more. More of life. More of laughter. More of him.

  Dragging his mouth from hers, he trailed a row of moist kisses down her neck. “If we were anyplace but here, do you know what we’d be doing now?”

  “I... I think so.” How odd her voice sounded.

  “We’d be in bed making love.”

  “I...”

  “What?” he prompted. “Were you about to tell me you can’t? Because I’ll be more than happy to prove otherwise.” He directed her mouth back to his.... Then, slowly, reluctantly, as though remembering this was a public place and they could be interrupted at any time, he ended the kiss.

  Savannah had more difficulty than Nash in returning to sanity. She needed the solid reality of him close to her. When he eased himself from her arms, his eyes searched out hers.

  “If you say that shouldn’t have happened, I swear I’ll do something crazy,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think I could make myself say it.”

  “Good,” she breathed.

  Nash pressed his forehead to hers. “I wish I knew what it is you do to me.” She sensed that it troubled him that she could break through that facade of his. She was beginning to understand this man. She was physically handicapped, but Nash was crippled, too. He didn’t want love, but he couldn’t keep himself from needing it, from caring about her, and that worried him. It worried her, too.

  “You don’t like what I do to you.” That much was obvious, but she wanted to hear him admit it.

  Nash gave a short laugh. “That’s the problem, I like it too much. There’s never been anyone who affects me this way. Not since Denise.”

  “Your ex-wife?”

  “Yes.” He regretted mentioning her name, Savannah guessed, because he made a point of changing the subject
immediately afterward.

  “We should go back to the pier.”

  “Not yet,” Savannah pleaded. “Not so soon. We just got started.”

  “I don’t want you to strain your leg. You aren’t accustomed to this much exercise.”

  “I won’t, I promise. Just a little while longer.” This was so much fun, she didn’t want it to ever end. It wasn’t every day that she could turn a dream into reality. It wasn’t every day a man kissed her as if she were his cherished love.

  Love. Love. Love. The word repeated itself in her mind. She was falling in love with Nash. It had begun weeks earlier, the first time he’d kissed her, and had been growing little by little. Love was a dangerous emotion when it came to Nash. He wouldn’t be an easy man to care about.

  He steered them away from the tree and into the sunlight. Savannah squinted against the glare, but it didn’t seem to affect Nash. He pedaled now as if he was escaping something. The fun was gone.

  “I’m ready to go back,” Savannah said after several minutes of silence.

  “Good.” He didn’t bother to disguise his relief.

  The mood had changed so abruptly that Savannah had trouble taking it all in. Nash couldn’t seem to get back to shore fast enough. He helped her out of the boat and placed his arm, grudgingly it seemed, around her waist to steady her. Once he was confident she had her balance, he released her.

  “I think we should leave,” he said when they returned to the picnic table.

  “Sure,” she agreed, disappointed and sad. She folded up the tablecloth and handed it to him. He carried the basket to the car and loaded it in the trunk.

  Savannah knew what was coming; she’d been through it before. Whenever a man feared he was becoming—or might become—emotionally attached to her, she could count on the same speech. Generally it began with what an exceptional woman she was, talented, gifted, fun, that sort of thing. The conclusion, however, was always the same. Someday a special man would come into her life. She’d never expected her relationship with Nash to get even that far. She’d never expected to see him after Susan’s wedding. This outing was an unforeseen bonus.