The One She Left Behind (Harlequin Super Romance) (20 page)

He kept his gaze locked on her eyes as he moved slowly, surely, keeping her in a state of prolonged bliss. She preferred a frenzied interlude to a slow dance into oblivion, where she didn’t have time to weigh the repercussions or consider the consequences. Where she didn’t have to feel anything but pleasure.

Yet in that moment, Savannah felt too vulnerable, especially when Sam laced his fingers with hers and raised her arms above her head. She experienced his urgency with every thrust, sensed the tension in his body and saw
the struggle in his expression right before he closed his eyes, whispered her name and collapsed against her. He shook with the force of his release and his heart pounded against her breasts as his harsh, uneven breaths broke the silence surrounding them in the place where their lovemaking had begun. A fitting place for it to end, Savannah thought, because after tonight it would inevitably end.

In the meantime, Savannah curled against him, her back to his front, his arms securely around her, and put the fears to rest. She’d wait until tomorrow before she let Sam know that she couldn’t let this continue to keep happening. Not if she wanted to leave with her heart still in one piece.

A
PPARENTLY
S
AVANNAH HAD
little regard for her heart. She’d spent three solid, carefree days in Sam’s company without giving her fears a second thought. She’d relearned to drive the tractor, shared nightly dinners with Gracie and Jim, accompanied Sam on a day trip to pick up a few head of cattle and gladly invited him every night into her bed—as well as several points in between the front door and the bed.

And the mornings…

Well, the mornings had proven to be her favorite time of day with Sam. This morning was no exception. At some point during the night, he’d flipped onto his belly, his face turned toward the opposite wall. He had one arm bent above his head on the pillow and his hair curled softly at his nape. Savannah knew it would take only a touch to rouse him and he would keep her happily engaged in another memorable round of lovemaking for hours on end. But she needed to leave him be to make certain she was prepared to return tomorrow to a life without him.

She touched him anyway, tracing her fingertip down his spine to where the sheet covered his bare bottom. As predicted, he rolled to his back and greeted her with a winning smile.

“Woman, you’re going to land me in the emergency room,” he said, his patently sexy voice grainy with sleep.

She lifted the covers for a peek. “You look healthy and raring to go to me.”

“Haven’t you seen those commercials that claim a four-hour erection is cause to seek medical attention?”

She laughed in spite of the fact his hand landed on her breast. “I believe they mean four
continuous
hours. Besides, I haven’t seen you taking any pills.”

“I don’t need pills,” he said as he nuzzled her neck. “I only need you.”

And she needed him, much more than she should.

The shrill of her cell phone resting on the nightstand prompted Sam’s groan and forced her to check the ID. For the past few days, she’d ignored calls from her immediate superior. Unfortunately, this call couldn’t be ignored.

Brushing Sam’s wandering hand aside, she sat on the edge of the bed, pulled the sheet up for cover and answered with a professional, “Savannah Greer.”

“You need to get back here immediately, Ms. Greer.”

Grant Zurkle, senior partner of Zurkle and Zurkle, was nothing if not a straight shooter. And Savannah found herself right in the line of fire. “I’ll be returning to work on Monday, Mr. Zurkle.”

“Not Monday,” he said. “Tomorrow. You have to start preparing briefs for the Smithfield trial.”

Trial? “Mr. Smithfield agreed to a settlement two days before I left.”

“And we convinced him to withdraw that agreement.
We’re going to take this one all the way, and you’ll be sitting second chair on the case.”

She clinched her teeth against the expletive threatening to spew out of her mouth. Normally, sitting second chair would be a boon, but she could only think about having to cut her vacation short and the unwelcome challenge. “Mr. Zurkle, he’s guilty on all counts of sexual harassment. We don’t stand a chance of winning.”

“We’ve dug into the plaintiff’s past and found enough to bring her credibility into question.”

Meaning they would put the victim on trial. Savannah instantly thought about her own mother’s abuse and the absolute injustice of it all. “Again, I feel that—”

“It doesn’t matter how you feel, Ms. Greer. As long as you work for this firm, you will do as you’re told and represent the rights of our clients to the best of your ability.”

What about the victim’s rights? she wanted to say, but reconsidered when she visualized a bright shade of red traveling from his round cheeks to the top of his bald head. One more verbal misstep and she’d find herself unemployed after putting in four-plus years of blood, sweat and sucking up. “Fine. I’ll be in the office first thing in the morning.”

“You’ll be in
my
office, 7:00 a.m. sharp.”

Zurkle hung up without so much as a goodbye, leaving Savannah wishing she’d told him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.

She turned to Sam for support only to find he’d left the room. Most likely he was in the shower and that led Savannah to grab her robe hanging on the footboard. If
she hurried, she could join him, a surefire way to forget the unpleasantness of the conversation. A prime opportunity for another round of lovemaking. A last round.

Savannah refused to succumb to the serious bout of depression threatening to destroy her final moments with Sam. On that thought, she hurried into the hall only to meet him head-on on the landing.

He was fully dressed but still unshaven, a duffel bag thrown over one shoulder.

“Where are you going?” she asked as he started down the stairs.

“Home,” he said without making any form of eye contact with her.

Savannah tried to match Sam’s steps but since his stride was too long, she called his name before he managed to escape out the door. “Wait, Sam.”

He turned and stared at her, something akin to anger calling out from his cobalt eyes. “Party’s over. I’ve got to go work and so do you.”

Party? Nice to know how he viewed the past few days. Just one big party. “That’s it? You’re not even going to tell me goodbye?” She wanted more than that. She wanted a kiss goodbye. She wanted him to say that what they’d shared had meant more to him than just a good time. It had certainly meant more to her.

“Bye,” he said curtly, then left out the door.

Savannah hugged her robe close as she sprinted down the remaining stairs and followed him onto the porch. “I deserve better than this, Sam.”

He faced her again, truck keys in hand. “You’re right.
You deserve better. You made that real clear twelve years ago.”

Nothing like being slapped by a past that obviously wasn’t going to go away, at least in Sam’s mind. “I thought we’d moved beyond that. I thought this time we’d have a civil parting.”

“Okay. Civil it is. Have a nice life in Chicago.”

She hated his scorn, hated that she had to explain her motives. “You knew I was eventually going to leave.”

“On Friday,” he said. “I was ready to let you go tomorrow.”

She couldn’t imagine what difference a day would make. “I wish I could stay until tomorrow, but you heard the conversation. I don’t have a choice.”

“We all have choices, Savannah. Sometimes we don’t always make the right ones.”

“Meaning?”

He leaned a shoulder against the porch’s support post. “I should have let you go for good and left it at that. Then I wouldn’t be standing here, believing like a fool that things could be different this time. That you might even decide to stay.”

“You never asked me to stay, Sam. Then or now.” And though she’d never admitted it to herself, that had crushed her beyond belief.

He inclined his head and studied her a long moment. “If I had asked you to stay back then, would you have done it?”

She lowered her eyes in an effort to escape his scrutiny. “Probably not.”

“And now?”

When she didn’t immediately answer, he said, “That’s what I thought. The answer will always be the same. You don’t belong here, and I do. You’re going to leave and I’m going to stay. That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”

So many things she wanted to say crowded her mind, including an urge to tell him she still loved him, maybe even more now than before. But to what end? He had been right. They lived two separate lives and no common ground existed between them.

Yet before he slid into the truck and drove out of her life once and for all, she had one final question she needed to ask. “If I had stayed, and by some miracle we’d had a future together, do you honestly believe we would have made it like Rachel and Matt?”

Sam turned his gaze to her again and this time, Savannah witnessed the anger dissolve, replaced by a sadness she’d never before seen in his eyes. “I guess we’ll never know.”

As Savannah sat on the porch step and watched him drive away, she experienced an intense sense of loss. Loss of her dad, of the house behind her, of a man whom she would never, ever forget. And she had nothing left to do but cry.

S
AM SPENT A GOOD FIFTEEN
minutes hammering nails into a paddock fence that didn’t need repairing. But he couldn’t think of a better way to vent his frustration unless he put his fist through the barn wall.

“You got something against that piece of wood, son?”

Sam tossed the hammer into the toolbox, stood and
brushed his palms together as he faced his dad. “What time is it?”

Jim took a toothpick out of his mouth and pointed it at Sam. “It’s time for you to tell me what’s got you so peeved that you decided to beat a fence to a pulp.”

He settled for a partial truth. “I’ve got to herd about twenty head of cattle into the catch pens in hundred-degree heat so Matt can give them their shots.”

“Is Savannah stopping by later?”

“She’s gone.” The words burned going down like he’d swallowed a shot of lye.

“Not yet,” Jim said. “I just stopped by and she was sitting on the porch, having some coffee.”

“Take my word for it, she’s leaving. Her damn job isn’t going to wait another day.” He couldn’t mask the anger in his tone, something that wouldn’t be lost on his dad.

Jim cocked his head and put on the lecture look. “Did you say all you needed to say to her?”

“I told her goodbye.” The hardest goodbye he’d ever had to deliver.

“Did you mention that once she’s gone, you’re going to mope around the house like a whipped pup for years?”

“Let it go, Dad.”

Jim sent him a champion scowl. “Your stupid pride’s going to land you nothing but alone.”

He’d been alone before and survived. “There are worse things.”

“Yeah, like letting the love of your life get away again.” Jim narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. “Unless you don’t love her.”

When Sam declined to reply, his dad added, “Do you love her, boy?”

He did, and that was the problem. It had always been a problem. “Okay, yeah, I love her. Are you happy now?”

“Then get the corncob out of your keister, Sam, and tell her. And while you’re at it, ask her to stay.”

He’d thought about confessing his feelings for the past three days and again this morning. In the end, he didn’t figure it would make any difference. “She’s not going to stick around no matter what I tell her.”

“It’s worth a try. She might even surprise you.”

That would be the shock of the century. “Let’s just say I did ask her to stay and she agrees. What if she decides being with me isn’t what she wants? Then I’d be no better off than I am now.”

Jim patted Sam on the back. “I understand, son, because I’ve been in your boots before. Why do you think it took me so long to make Gracie my wife? I had to be sure she wasn’t going to leave me high and dry like your mother did.”

For the very first time, his dad had admitted that he’d been affected by his wife’s departure. “What changed your mind?”

“Gracie did. One day, after we’d had some worthless argument, she looked straight at me and said I could stop testing her because she wasn’t going anywhere.”

Sam had never doubted Gracie’s loyalty to them. Not once had he ever feared she’d leave like his mother. “It’s different. Gracie lived with us, not in some city hundreds of miles away. She had a reason to stay.”

“Then give Savannah a reason to stay. Don’t let her
take off without at least tellin’ her how you feel, son. Let her know that she’ll always have a place to come home to. Otherwise, you’re going to spend the rest of your life wondering if being honest might’ve made a difference.”

“It’s a pretty damn big risk, Dad.”

“One that you need to take, just like all the chances you’ve taken with this farm. Even if you fail, you’ll be a better man for trying.”

His dad had made some convincing points. “I’ll think about it.”

Jim’s frown returned. “Don’t think, boy. Just do it.” He took a couple of steps away from Sam before turning back around. “One more thing. Savannah told me she didn’t plan to leave until after sunset so she could beat the heat and avoid traffic. That means you still have a few hours to figure out how you’re going to handle this.”

When his dad walked away, Sam made the decision to take Jim’s advice. He just hoped he had enough time to do what he needed to do. He had something old to find and something new to buy. After that, he’d seek out Savannah—and he knew exactly where he would find her.

T
HE SKIES HAD FADED FROM
blue to orange, indicating the time to leave had come. Yet Savannah felt compelled to witness one last sunset, to reflect on good times and to say farewell to a pivotal part of her life that she would always remember fondly. The bridge seemed the perfect place to do that.

As she stepped onto the aged wooden slats, Savannah experienced an overwhelming sense of regret. If the
truth were known, she didn’t really want to go, but she knew she couldn’t stay. She had no real reason to stay. She no longer had any kin to visit, no home, no one who cared whether she returned aside from a few old friends who had their own lives to lead. That included Sam.

Earlier that day, she’d spent a couple of hours at Stan’s, practically jumping out of her skin every time the door had opened in hopes he would walk in and beg her to stay. A ridiculous white-knight fantasy that could only be achieved in fairy tales. Her relationship with Sam had never been a fairy tale. Far from it. And now she needed to put the past to rest, once and for all.

As she geared up to go, a noise caught Savannah’s attention. She glanced to her left to see a tan oversized envelope, partially secured by a piece of tape to the railing, flapping in the breeze. Curious, she moved close to find her name scribbled across the front. She could think of only one person who would leave her a note—or a letter, as the case appeared to be.

She detached the envelope, released the metal clasps and pulled out a document. More accurately, a deed transfer—for her mother’s house.

Savannah scanned the contents and discovered Sam’s name listed as the grantor and a blank space awaiting her signature as the grantee. None of this made sense. Sam didn’t own the house; Edwin Wainwright did.