Saving Savannah (Haven Book 3)

by Laylah Roberts

  The other one started to laugh, and she turned back to him. He seemed to be the friendlier of the two, even if he had dropped her dress in the dirt.

  “I’m Savannah.” She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Max looked down at the perfectly manicured hand the tiny blonde held out. Damn, she was something else. Crazy as hell. Talked way too much. But gorgeous. Those blue eyes, the blonde curls, her curves. He felt his body stir. He might have had his fair share of female companionship over the years, but the truth was, he was getting tired of just hooking up with a woman when the urge became too great to ignore.

  He wanted a real woman. One he could hold close all night. Someone he could talk to. Someone he could call his. And even though Logan would probably deny it, he wanted the same thing.

  Logan had let Gary’s mental abuse get to him. That bastard had taken great pleasure in telling Logan how stupid he was, how he’d never amount to anything. His brother had sunk so deeply into himself few people knew the real Logan. The one who’d give his last dollar to help someone in need.

  Reaching out, he clasped her hand in his. The zing that crossed his palm surprised him. He saw her eyes widen and knew she’d felt it too.

  “Hello, Savannah, I’m Max.” He kept hold of her hand for a moment longer than he should have. Then he let go. The loss of her touch was like a kick to the gut, and it took him a few breaths before he trusted himself to speak properly. “The big guy is my brother, Logan. We have a spread a few miles up. The Blue Moon Ranch.”

  She glanced from Max to Logan, looking slightly nervous.

  “Your dress is touching the ground,” he pointed out.

  With a small groan, she pulled it up then stomped over to the car and, leaning over the driver’s side, attempted to shove it into the back.

  Max studied her ass. Firm, but round. She had curves in all the right places. And Max loved curves.

  Logan gave him a quelling look, and Max just grinned. He couldn’t help it. It was a mighty fine ass.

  “You lost?” Logan asked.

  She abruptly stood and whacked her head against the doorframe. Max jumped forward as she cried out, helping her step away from the car.

  “Easy, darlin’,” he crooned, pulling her close so he could check her head. “Let me see if there’s a bump.”

  “I’m such a klutz. Ow, ow, ow, that hurts.” She tried to draw back, but he easily held her against his chest. She was a tiny little thing. The top of her head didn’t even reach his shoulders.

  “She okay?” Logan barked, coming closer. “Does she need to go to the hospital?”

  “She should be okay, just a bit of a bump,” Max replied. “Although maybe we should take her just in case.” Then they could spend some more time with her.

  She shoved away from him, then winced, clasping her head. He noted the tears in her big, blue eyes with concern. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and drew herself up. “She is right here. She does not need a doctor. She is fine. And she’s name is Savannah. I mean mine. My name is Savannah.”

  Logan scowled. “You could have a concussion.”

  She gaped at him. “From hitting my head against the doorframe? I doubt it. If I ran to the doctor every time I did something clumsy, I’d never leave.”

  Logan muttered something under his breath and turned away. “I’ll change the tire.”

  She stared at him, rubbing her head. “Who put his knickers in a twist?”

  Max laughed. “Round these parts we say he’s got a burr under his saddle. Logan wearing knickers? Now that’s something I’d pay to see.”

  “Shut up,” Logan called back. He pulled out a suitcase. “How much is this suitcase worth? Ten K?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “I paid thirty-nine ninety-five for it in a Black Friday sale. Had to fight to get it. Came out with a black eye and a bruised elbow but it was totally worth it.”

  Logan just snorted and placed it on the ground.

  “He doesn’t believe me, does he?”

  “Logan doesn’t shop much. I’ll help him with the tire.”

  Savannah watched as Logan pulled the tire out of the trunk of her little car as easily as he’d pick up a pair of shoes. The man was strong. And ripped. And rude as hell. After all, it was his fault her head was now throbbing. He could have at least apologized.

  Or kissed her boo-boo better.

  Sweet baby Jesus, Savannah. Get yourself under control. She needed to stop those sorts of thoughts right now. Was she looking for some rebound sex? Was that what this was? She’d never broken up with someone before. Well, not unless she counted Jaxon Wilkins in the fourth grade. They’d gone out for a whole week. He’d even kissed her behind the storage shed at school.

  Maybe that’s what this was. Her body’s way of helping her forget about Alistair by trying to convince her to sleep with two hot cowboys.

  Two cowboys? At once? Holy hell. Savannah fanned herself at the thought. Lord, she wouldn’t know what to do with one.

  “Go sit in our truck,” Logan barked at her.

  “What?”

  Max turned to look at her from where he was crouched by the car. “It’s too hot to be standing around in the sun. Go sit in the truck and turn the engine on. The air conditioning doesn’t work that well, but it’s better than roasting out here.”

  “But you’re both standing out here.”

  “We ain’t some city girl with soft skin and little sense,” Logan grumbled.

  She put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. “Just because I come from the city doesn’t mean I don’t have any sense.”

  “Does from where I’m standing.”

  “Wow, you have the manners of a-of a cow.” Yeah, Savannah, way to put him in his place.

  Max grinned. “Hey, that’s a bit harsh on the cow. They’ve got way better manners than Logan.”

  Logan groaned as he pulled off her flat tire. Instead of putting it back into the trunk of her car as she’d expected, he hauled it over to his truck and placed it in the back. “Hey, what are you doing? I’ll need that, won’t I? Or will I have to get a new one?”

  “I think Matt will be able to patch it,” Max told her. “Are you staying around here or just passing through?”

  “I’m visiting a friend. Amanda Wilks. Do you know her?”

  “We know her,” Logan told her.

  “We’ll drop your tire off with Matt tomorrow for you. He’ll call the Wilks’s place when it’s ready to be collected.”

  “Oh, well, thank you, but I can do it.”

  “Yeah? You going to lift it out by yourself?” Logan asked, coming over to stand in front of her as Max fitted the spare on.

  “I’m sure I could if I put my mind to it.” Not even in her dreams. “Or this Matt will help me.”

  Logan folded his arms over his wide chest. “We’ll do it. Get in the truck.”

  She licked her lips. “I’m fine.” She wasn’t. The sun was really beating down, and the only thing she’d eaten in the last twenty-four hours was a tub of Ben and Jerry’s. “How do you know I won’t steal it?”

  “What? My truck? Darlin’, I’d bet you’ve never even touched a stick shift before.”

  “Oh, I’ve touched a few. And as far as I can tell, one’s just the same as the other,” she drawled.

  Shit. Was she really flirting with him? Oh Savannah, you’re swimming with the sharks now.

  Logan stepped closer, and her breath caught. The man was intimidating as hell. And sexier than he had any right being.

  “I can assure you, little bit, that my stick is definitely like no other you’ve touched before.”

  She placed a hand on her forehead as a wave of dizziness hit her. A warm hand clasped her elbow, steadying her.

  Logan’s eyes narrowed. “You drunk any water lately?”

  “Of course, I have,” she lied. If by water, he meant soda. And if by lately, he meant four hours ago.

  Logan let out a deep breath. “There ar

e bottles of water in the cooler in the back. Grab one, get in the truck and start the air. Now.”

  Savannah found herself climbing into the truck before she thought better of it.

  It wasn’t because he’d told her to, she reassured herself.

  She was just really thirsty.

  “That was pushy, even for you,” Max remarked as he tightened the lug nuts on the tire.

  “Little fool looked like she was going to keel over. Who the hell let her come out here on her own?”

  Max stood and stretched his back, glancing over at the truck. “I don’t know, but she needs someone to watch out for her.”

  Logan looked at him sharply. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “What?” Max asked innocently.

  “We don’t have time for a female. Especially not that female. She’s high-maintenance, from the city, and obviously used to the finer things in life. Remember the plan.”

  “I didn’t say I wanted to keep her.”

  Logan snorted. “She’s not the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type.” Nope, Savannah was the tuck-her-up-in-your-bed-and-keep-her-there-forever type. “Wonder where her fiancé is?”

  Max gave him a look. “She said she’s burning the dress. Obviously, he’s out of the picture.”

  “A man doesn’t just give up a woman like that. No matter how much she talks.” And the woman could talk. She didn’t shut up. He didn’t know what the hell Max was thinking. Yeah, she was cute and curvy, but she was the complete opposite of the type of woman they needed.

  Hell, he’d have to gag her just to keep from killing her.

  He glanced over to make certain she’d turned on the truck as he’d ordered. He hadn’t liked how glassy-eyed she’d looked. And he still wasn’t convinced they shouldn’t take her to the doc to get looked over.

  “You can deny it all you want, but you feel it too. There’s a connection there. I felt something move inside me when I touched her.”

  “Probably gas.”

  Max glared at him. “It wasn’t gas. I’m trying to have a meaningful conversation about my feelings, and you think it’s gas?”

  Logan shrugged. Seemed like a good explanation to him. “You want her, go for it. But I’m not interested.”

  Max shook his head. “You’ll see. She’s the one. I can feel it.”

  “She’s trouble.”

  Max slapped him on the back. “I know. But don’t you get it? That’s half the fun, brother. She’s going to change our lives, and nothing will ever be the same again.”

  Chapter One

  Two years later . . .

  September fourth.

  Four weeks.

  Savannah stared numbly at the date on the calendar. The protective shell she’d wrapped around herself was a blessing. It kept her from feeling too much. From feeling much of anything.

  It had kept her from experiencing too much pain as she’d recovered from the cuts and bruises he’d inflicted on her.

  It kept her from falling apart from the horror of the memories that threatened to drown her. It kept her sane.

  Well, sort of. It was a weird kind of sanity. She lived in an almost dreamlike state. As though she were separated from her body. Like she was on really good drugs. The kind she’d been on for those first few days in the hospital when she’d woken up bandaged and broken.

  Broken? Like she was fixed now? The wounds were healed. There were still some small scars, but the doctor told her they’d probably fade with time. Yep, time would take care of her outer wounds. But the scars on the inside . . . well, they’d stay there. Buried deep where no one would find them.

  It was better this way. If she hid buried everything then eventually life would go back to normal. Right?

  “Savannah!”

  She let out a cry as the loud voice boomed through the house. She shook for a moment, her heart racing so hard she felt ill. Legs weak, she leaned against the kitchen island behind her.

  Calm. Calm. Find that place where you’re not afraid.

  “Savannah? Oh, there you are.” The relief on Logan’s face was clear. “Didn’t you hear me calling for you?”

  They’d probably heard him calling in the next state; Logan wasn’t exactly subtle.

  “Are you okay? Are you all right?” He shifted from foot to foot, looking a little uncomfortable. Poor Logan, he was a man of action, not words.

  Logan just continued to stare at her. She opened her mouth to say something . . . anything . . . and the words dried up in her throat.

  He sighed. “Savannah . . .” He paused, seeming to rethink what he was about to say. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

  “Of course,” she said automatically. But she wouldn’t. Because talking meant examining her feelings, it meant letting go of this protective shell and she couldn’t do that because she had a horrible feeling that once she started opening up she was going to fall completely apart.

  “Okay, baby.” He gazed around. “What are you doing in here? Can I get something for you?”

  She looked around the kitchen. What was she doing in here? She couldn’t quite remember. That happened a lot now. She just blanked out. It was frightening.

  “I came to cook you lunch.”

  He blanched, and she couldn’t blame him. Savannah was a truly awful cook. In her defense, no one had ever taught her how. The first time she’d tried to cook for her men, well, they’d been lucky the house had two toilets and an outhouse. Poor Logan had pulled the short straw and had ended spending most of the night in the privy.

  Oh, that hadn’t been a good night.

  “You sit down. I’ll make us something,” he commanded. Everything with Logan came out sounding like an order.

  “All right.” She moved over to the dining table. The kitchen and dining room were open plan with the living room across the hallway. She sat, looking out the window.

  Four weeks. It had been four weeks since Richard Stanton had kidnapped her. Tortured her. Terrified her.

  And she was scared she’d never be the same again.

  Logan looked over at Savannah with worry. He hastily put together some cold cut sandwiches, hoping she might eat something. He didn’t care that it wasn’t even ten in the morning. He didn’t figure it was worth pointing that out and upsetting her.

  He hated that he couldn’t make everything better. He could still remember the terror he’d felt when he’d realized she was missing. The horror of seeing her tied up, her body bloody and beaten, standing over her in the hospital bed and swearing nothing would ever harm her again.

  She sat so quietly. So still. Used to be he couldn’t shut her up. Now he’d give anything to have his chatterbox wife back. His Savi was a spitfire. Full of life and laughter and fun. Sometimes a bit too much fun. He swore she was turning him prematurely gray.

  He hadn’t expected her to immediately recover. She’d carry what happened with her forever. He knew it would haunt him for the rest of his days. No, he’d expected her to be different. Frightened, tearful, unsure, angry. But he hadn’t expected calm.

  For a moment, when he’d walked into the kitchen, he thought he’d seen a flash of something on her face. But then it had slipped behind the mask she now wore. He hated that mask. The smile that never reached her eyes. The way she tried to reassure him everything was fine. That she was fine.

  Everything was not fine. And she shouldn’t be the one trying to look after him. It was his job to take care of her. His and Max’s.

  It was his turn to work on the ranch today, but he couldn’t help but stop in to check on her before he tackled fixing the tractor. One of them had stuck close to her since they’d brought her home from the hospital. They were way behind in their work and they couldn’t afford to be a man down but there was no way they were they leaving Savannah on her own. He walked towards her.

  He stopped a few feet away and cleared his throat. “Savi?” He kept his voice quiet. She jumped slightly and he cursed himself. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him.

  “Made you a sandwich, darlin’.”

  “Oh, thanks, but I’m not hungry.” She gave him that fake smile, and he died a little more inside. “But you go ahead and eat. I didn’t realize it was lunchtime already.”

  And so, he sat and ate the sandwich he didn’t want, while his darling, beautiful, fragile wife sat beside him, staring out the window.

  Enough was enough. They couldn’t continue like this. Something had to change.

  ***

  Max pulled at the bedroom door handle, groaning as it fell off in his hand. Something else in this godforsaken house that needed fixing. He shoved the door open then threw the handle across the room. It hit the wall with a thunk, leaving a small dint.

  Unfortunately, that small act of temper didn’t make him feel any less angry. Or less stressed.

  This place was a wreak. The water heater needed replacing, the house needed rewiring and the ceiling leaked in so many places they didn’t have enough buckets to cope.

  He ran his hand over his face, looking out the bedroom window at their land. It was all he’d ever wanted. His own spread. A home. A wife and family.

  He had it all.

  Yet it was all coming apart.

  Max sat on the side of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees, hanging his head. When had it all gone wrong? They were falling further and further in debt. They needed more help. They needed more money. More time.

  What he really needed to focus on was Savannah. She needed him more than ever. Yet he had no idea how to help her.

  His nightmares had started again. He guessed they’d been stirred up after what had happened to Savannah. During his time in the armed forces, he’d done and seen things he’d rather forget. Things that had a way of returning in his dreams.

  He would have killed Stanton if Jake and Duncan, one of his deputy sheriffs, hadn’t stopped him. The rage that had come over him had been all-consuming. The only thing he’d seen was that asshole hurting the most important person in his world. He’d wanted to make him pay, to make certain he could never hurt her again. Duncan and Jake had pulled him off that bastard before he could go too far.

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