by Ciara Knight
He’d been GGed.
With an edge of anger creeping in, he dropped his duffle and retraced his steps throughout the main floor. No keys. There wasn’t even anyone around he could ask. He took the grand staircase to the second floor and found the workers taking a snack break in one room, but no sign of his aunt or the other girls. Not that it mattered. He’d have better luck with a locksmith before he’d get the keys back from them. The great debate over his friendship with Suzy Moore flashed through his mind. He’d spent a good four hours trying to figure out why his car wouldn’t start, when Sunny finally hugged him and told him he was an idiot. Suzy had wanted to be more than friends and was determined to wreck things for him and Savannah.
He shook his head and sighed. The only way he’d get out of here was if he spoke to Savannah. But why? Why put her through any more pain?”
He returned to the atrium and stood before the French doors, watching snowflakes swirl around his former girlfriend, the one he’d promised to marry when he graduated high school. Even in her puffy coat, jeans, and work boots, Savannah was the sexiest women he’d ever met. Smart, determined, tough, and loving, she was everything he’d ever wanted. He hadn’t been surprised to hear she owned her own company. There would never be another woman in his life like her. Lord knew he’d tried to find a replacement, but the longest relationship he’d managed lasted eight weeks. And that was probably because the woman had been away on business half the time.
Savannah took a step down the slope, heading toward the river. His pulse rose with anxiety at the thought of her going anywhere near there. He bolted through the French doors to stop her, but soon realized she probably went down there all the time to be near where her sister had died. Still, he couldn’t let her go down there alone. What if she slipped like Theresa had?
He trotted through the back, muddy lawn to the stairs embedded in the hillside, his breath came in choked gasps as if he hadn’t been to the gym in a year and just ran ten miles. His feet halted at the edge of the top step, unable to move any farther. The scenic spot, a favorite of theirs where they would sneak away to be alone, now made him tremble with horrible memories. Memories he couldn’t face. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter 5
Savannah’s work boots clanked against the metal grates below her. She clutched the cold steel cable at her side and looked below at the rushing water. How many times had she run across this bridge in her youth, chasing after Mason?
Mist rose from the turbulent water, spraying up and over the bridge and clouding the walkway. The snowflakes melted with the water on contact. With the falling temperatures, it wouldn’t be long before it stuck. She inhaled the fresh mountain air, the bitter cold burning the inside of her nose and lungs. The temperature wasn’t just dropping. She could feel a winter storm heading their way. Good thing it wasn’t opening week.
She continued to the other side of the bridge and eyed the rocky, sludgy path leading up the hill before approaching steps rattled the grate beneath her. The heavy steps could only belong to Mason, and she had a good idea who had sent him. But how was she supposed to talk to him, to ask him to invest in the inn when she could barely meet his eyes or offer him a simple greeting? Yet, she knew she had to try, if only for the sake of the GGs. They were born to run a place like this and she knew it would be amazing when it was done. Plus, it would keep them out of trouble.
Steeling herself, she turned to face him. “How’d they get you to stay?” she asked, loud enough to be heard over the rushing water.
“Hidden keys. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re floating to Alabama by now.”
Despite her nervousness, Savannah laughed. After some of the stunts the GGs pulled, she would be surprised at nothing. “Then I guess we better talk if you hope to see them again.” She fought the shaking in her limbs and soul. Movement. She needed to keep moving, not only to stay warm but to stay focused. “Mind if we walk?”
Mason closed the distance to join her. “I…You…uh…” He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice strained with sorrow.
She took a step and found the ground on the other side stable and inviting. “So, you want to do this now? Don’t you want to go get your coat before you freeze?
He sighed. “It disappeared in the airport in Chicago. Taken from the back of a chair while I was working.” His arms crossed over his chest and she knew he was cold, but if he wanted to get into this now, fine. She knew the topic would come up at some point, she just hadn’t expected it so soon. Still, she readied her emotions for a conversation of a lifetime. One the GGs had tried to push her into for years, but she wasn’t about to run after him. He had left, not her. “You’re sorry about what? Running away? Not calling? Hating me? What?”
No steps or words followed, but she continued hiking the rugged terrain up the hillside until she reached the top. There she stopped and looked at the bunny trail leading to their once secret rendezvous point. The crunch of dry twigs told her he followed, but she didn’t look at him. She only stared at the narrow path.
Mason halted, a breath away from her shoulder. She could see his hair and strong jaw line in her peripheral vision. “No… Yes.” He heaved a breath of air, as if to thrust the words from his throat. “I’m sorry your sister died because of me.”
There it was, the epic churning, charging, cataclysmic rushing river of loss between them. Her words almost automatic, she said, “I’m pretty sure I told you a thousand times it wasn’t your fault.” She fidgeted with one of the buttons on her coat. “But it doesn’t matter how many times I say it. You won’t let it go.”
“How can I let it go? Your sister died. That’s not something I can take back or make up for. Your family despises me. And you all have that right. Even if I didn’t actually cause her to slip into the river, I still told her where I was going. She must’ve thought I wanted her to meet me there for some reason.”
Savannah whipped her head around to face him, her hair thrashing against her cold cheek. Frustration bubbled to the surface. “They know it wasn’t your fault. Even back then they knew. They were grieving. They didn’t want to face the fact their youngest daughter wanted to steal her big sister’s boyfriend so bad that she followed you into the woods that day in the hopes she could seduce you. For a long time I held so much bitterness in my heart toward my baby sister for concocting such a horrific plan to steal you away, for dying, and for running you out of town.” Her voice hitched with emotion. “My parents and I didn’t speak for months. They couldn’t face the truth. Not even when I showed them her diary.”
He gulped loud enough she could hear it. “Diary?”
She released the button which was only held on by two threads at this point, retrieved the diary from her jacket, and handed it to him. “I found it a month after she died. A week after you ran off,” she added, not bothering to keep the bitterness from her voice. “I tried to tell you, but I couldn’t find you. Not even Birdie could find you.”
He opened the warn, tear-streaked pages and scanned the writing.
“Page twenty-four,” she mumbled, the words choking her.
He flipped pages and gasped. “It’s true.”
“It’s the ugly truth.” Savannah sucked in a cold, stuttered breath.
He mouthed the words she’d memorized. “I want Mason. My sister doesn’t deserve him. It is me he should marry and I’ll make him see that. I’ll make him mine.”
His fingers raked down her arm, only a vibration through her coat, but it was enough for her to feel it all the way to her feet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Now you do.” She kicked a pebble and moved from his touch, but he only moved in even closer this time. “I wrote when I settled in Chicago.”
She wanted to shake him, punch him, and kiss him all at the same time. How could one man be so aggravating? She fought the urge to touch her lips, to remember what it felt like to be kissed. “Six months later. A little late, don’t ya think?” But now he was seven years too l
ate.
He tucked the diary under his arm and broke a twig off a tree then leaned against its large trunk. “I didn’t know where I would end up until then. I sort of traveled around.” The stick broke in half and brittle bark dust rained down upon his shiny shoes.
She hadn’t noticed the expensive leather and tailored pants until now. “Guess you settled nicely.”
The breeze whistling through the branches above called attention to the prolonged silence between them. “It wasn’t easy, Savannah. It took time to find a way to live again. Now I have a job, and I’m good at it.”
Words flooded her mind, everything she’d planned to say to him if he ever returned. How she loved him. How she was sorry her sister ruined his life. But all that came out was, “I’m glad I didn’t stand in your way.”
“No. It’s not like that.” He clutched her arm, but she slid out of his grasp.
For years, she had longed for him to return. For years, she resented him for leaving. But none of that mattered now. It was too late to salvage anything between them, but there was still the matter of helping the women who stood by their sides all those years. “Look, I need you to lend the GGs some money.”
He shook his head and tossed the remains of the twig onto the ground. “What?”
“You said you’ve done well for yourself. And based on your tailored suit, designer shoes, and hundred-dollar haircut, helping us out won’t put too much of a dent in your wallet.”
He ran his hand through his thick, perfectly styled hair and paced around her for a moment, as if sizing up her twenty-dollar jeans and old work boots. “That’s why you’re talking to me? I thought…” He sighed. “Never mind.”
She wanted to ask what he was going to say, but it didn’t matter. She needed to stay focused. “I’m giving the GGs my savings, but it’s not enough to get this inn off the ground. If I had more, they’d already have it.”
“Then you’re as crazy as the rest of them. This isn’t an investment. It’s a money pit. There’s no way you can get that place up and running by the first of the year, especially with it being the Christmas season. Besides, who wants to drive up to this secluded mountain for a vacation anyway?”
Her chest ached at his words. She tapped the rock in front of her with the toe of her boot. “Don’t you believe in anything?”
Mason didn’t respond for a moment, but he stopped pacing. Silence, save for the rush of water below and the wind in the trees. He placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head to meet his gaze. The touch of his skin on hers caught her breath and squished it into tiny little gasps. It set her skin ablaze despite the frigid temperature. “I did. Once.”
A board from the fence she’d meticulously constructed around her heart cracked and fell away, leaving a gap just large enough for hope to get through. “Can’t you believe in something again?” she breathed.
He dropped his hand and straightened to his full height. “I don’t know.”
She gaped at his words then snatched the metaphorical fence board and imagined hitting him upside his head with it before nailing it back in place. “I see.” All hope effectively sealed off from her heart, she bolted from him. Away from the crazy notion of there ever being them again. She was crazy. Crazy stupid.
“Savannah,” he called after her, but she kept going, faster, farther, trying to get away from him. She’d be the one to run this time. Her work boots sunk into the muddy path snaking around rocks and sticks. The water at the bottom of the ravine roared with life. Why had she listened to Cookie? She should’ve never asked him for his help. There had to be another way to finish the inn.
She hopped a downed log and slid on the slick, snowy terrain, but her boots found traction again and she kept walking.
“Savannah, stop!”
A loud thump then oumph!
She turned to find Mason Harrington sprawled out on the path, face down in the mud, dirty diary at his side. Brown earth smeared down the front of his expensive suit, his hair falling over his forehead. Something deep inside her gurgled and swished until it rose to the surface and she fell to her knees in front of him. Laughter ripped through her gut, busted through the seams of her lungs, and projected from her mouth like a howling coyote. She laughed and laughed, until she bent over with tears rolling down her cheeks.
“What’s wrong with you? Don’t you know where you are? Have you gone insane? This is where she died. She fell down the ravine in this spot.” Mason’s eyes narrowed, his nostril flared, and his jaw twitched. “Savannah Blake, you’ve lost your mind.”
“Maybe,” she managed between gulps of air and laughter. “But you lost your dignity, your high and mighty, uppity pride.” She choked down the remaining laughs and sat with her arms wrapped around her belly, gasping for air.
“Oh, you think so?”
She nodded. “Yep. So much for your superior hiking skills. You’re nothing but a city slicker now, one who can’t cut it on a Tennessee mountain top anymore.”
Mason swiped mud from his chest and flicked it at the ground. Then he grabbed another handful from his stomach and sloshed it across Savannah’s face. “Now, who’s lost their dignity?”
The damp goo slid down her cheek. Shock froze her in place for a moment, then she shook her head to dislodge the rest of it and grabbed a handful of mud. “Oh, so that’s how we’re gonna play this?” She hurled it at his face, but he ducked and scooped up a handful, scoring a hit to her chest. With a quick arm, she managed a counterattack to his forehead. He lunged and pinned her to the ground, smearing mud and debris all over her face.
The taste of Tennessee clay, mixed with dead grass, coated her tongue. “Okay, okay. You win.”
“Say it, or you’ll get another huge helping of mud pie.” He held a clump of ammo over her face in warning.
“You’re king of the mountain,” she muttered in defeat.
He leaned down, his face so close it blurred in a dream-like haze. His warm breath feathered her face. “Never forget it. I might’ve moved, but my soul stayed here, trapped on this mountain.”
Mud trickled down his chin and landed on her nose. He rolled off of her, retrieved the old diary, walked to the ravine, and threw it into the rushing river below.
“What are you doing?” Savannah screeched.
“Letting the past go. I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay. I loved you, but I couldn’t marry you. Not after what happened. How could I, when I was a constant reminder for you of such a tragedy? Even if you thought you could still marry me, what if that changed ten or twenty years later? Would you wake up one day and feel like a traitor to your family? I couldn’t do that to you.”
She watched darkening clouds with large silver linings roll over them. The cold, snow, and birds flying south were all signs of winter approaching. “I guess you didn’t love me enough then,” she mumbled.
He knelt by her side. His fingers grazed her temple, pushing hair away from her eyes. “No, I loved you too much.”
Chapter 6
The snow picked up momentum, coming down heavy and thick and drowning out all sound. By the time they reached the backyard steps of the inn, they looked like snowmen who had rolled in chocolate milk. Savannah sloshed ahead then stopped and held out her hand. Talk about role reversals. How many times had he helped her up hills and over rocks in the woods? He’d been the one to introduce her to the joy of the outdoors, to camping and backpacking. Of course, dragging her out to the middle of nowhere was the only way he could convince her to snuggle up with him when they first started dating.
“Don’t want you tumbling down the hill because of those prissy shoes. You got a man purse to go with them?” she teased.
He shook his head. “You can call me many things, but prissy isn’t one of them.”
She grasped his hand and yanked him up to the top step. “What? You going to puff out your chest and do a King Kong impersonation to prove me wrong?”
The distraction of her fingers around his clouded Mason’s thoughts until he
realized his shoulders were pushed back, and he had flexed his biceps. Apparently, he had shed his southern accent and flannel wear when he settled in Chicago but not his male instincts. The mountain man in him longed to throw her over his shoulder and haul her off to a secluded cabin somewhere.
With a smirk still on her face, she led him across the snowy yard to the back porch steps. Kicking the side of the bottom step, she dislodged grassy clumps of muck from her boots. The freckle at the edge of her lip swayed left and right with her movements, as if strutting for him, and he remembered the hundred plus times he’d kissed that beauty mark.
Savannah nudged his side. “You okay? Whatcha thinking about?”
“About the fact you just ruined a thousand-dollar suit.” He winked. “Who knew having a mud fight would be fun at our age?”
“Speak for yourself. I’m still a ten-year-old at heart. And I can take you down if you give me any attitude, Mr. Mason Harrington,” she said in her sassiest tone. The one that had captivated him the first time he walked home from the bus stop with her. The first time he’d tried to steal a kiss, and she shoved him into the mud. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“So, you still have that temper, huh?” Mason tapped his own shoe against the step, the mud and snow sliding off easily.
She nodded. “And if you don’t reconsider helping out the women who raised you after your daddy left to go marry some floozy, then I’ll take you down again.” She huffed then marched up the steps, and through the back door.
“Oh, dear Lord in Heaven! What happened to you?” He heard Sunny’s squeal.
“Sorry, Sunny. I got in a mud fight,” Savannah’s words carried outside.
“Did you win?” Cookie’s sharp tone echoed.