Dear John - By Nicholas Sparks Page 0,26

library, schools, the church, whatever. Dad is a history teacher at the school, and he’s coached the girls volleyball team since I was little. Last year they made it to the state finals, but they lost. He’s also a deacon in our church, and he runs the youth group and the choir. Do you want to see a picture?”

“Sure,” I said.

She opened her purse and removed her wallet. She flipped it open and pushed it across the table, our fingers brushing.

“They’re a little ragged at the edges from being in the ocean,” she said, “but you get the idea.”

I turned the photo around. Savannah took more after her father than her mother, or had at least inherited the darker features from him.

“Nice-looking couple.”

“I love ’em,” she said, taking the wallet back. “They’re the best.”

“Why do you live on a ranch if your dad is a teacher?”

“Oh, it’s not a working ranch. It used to be when my grandfather owned it, but he had to sell bits and pieces to pay the taxes on it. By the time my dad inherited it, it was down to ten acres with a house, stables, and a corral. It’s more like a great big yard than a ranch. It’s the way we always refer to it, but I guess that conjures up the wrong image, huh?”

“I know you said you did gymnastics, but did you play volleyball for your dad?”

“No,” she said. “I mean, he’s a great coach, but he always encouraged me to do what was right for me. And volleyball wasn’t it. I tried and I was okay, but it wasn’t what I loved.”

“You loved horses.”

“Since I was a little girl. My mom gave me this statue of a horse when I was really little, and that’s what started the whole thing. I got my first horse for Christmas when I was eight, and it’s still the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received. Slocum. She was this really gentle old mare, and she was perfect for me. The deal was that I had to take care of her—feed her and brush her and keep her stall clean. Between her, school, gymnastics, and taking care of the rest of the animals, that was pretty much all I had time for.”

“The rest of the animals?”

“When I was growing up, our house was kind of like a farm. Dogs, cats, even a llama for a while. I was a sucker when it came to strays. My parents got to the point where they wouldn’t even argue with me about it. There were usually four or five at any one time. Sometimes an owner would come, hoping to find a lost pet, and he’d leave with one of our recent additions if he couldn’t find it. We were like the pound.”

“Your parents were patient.”

“Yes,” she said, “they were. But they were suckers for strays, too. Even though she’d deny it, my mom was worse than me.”

I studied her. “I’ll bet you were a good student.”

“Straight A’s. I was valedictorian of my class.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Why?”

I didn’t answer. “Did you ever have a serious boyfriend?”

“Oh, now we’re getting down to the nitty-gritty, huh?”

“I was just asking.”

“What do you think?”

“I think,” I said, dragging out the words, “I have no idea.”

She laughed. “Then . . . let’s let that question go for now. A little mystery is good for the soul. Besides, I’d be willing to bet you can figure it out on your own.”

The waitress arrived with the bucket of shrimp and a couple of plastic containers of cocktail sauce, set them on the table, and refilled our tea with the efficiency of someone who’d been doing it for way too long. She turned on her heels without asking whether we needed anything else.

“This place is legendary for its hospitality.”

“She’s just busy,” Savannah said, reaching for a shrimp. “And besides, I think she knows you’re grilling me and wanted to leave me to my inquisitor.”

She cracked the shrimp and peeled it, then dipped it in the sauce before taking a bite. I reached in the pail and set a couple on my plate.

“What else do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. Anything. What’s the best thing about being in college?”

She thought about it as she filled her plate. “Good teachers,” she finally said. “In college, you can sometimes pick your professors, as long as you’re flexible with your schedule. That’s what I like. Before I started, that was the advice my

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