No dummy, Savannah had concluded that Sarah and her husband, Cam, must use the remote spot for trysts, so when she’d asked for directions this morning, she’d made sure Cam and Sarah’s plans for the day didn’t include Lover’s Leap.
Savannah hadn’t confessed the real reason she wanted to visit such a place. What she planned to do here today was private; knowing her luck, she figured it probably broke a law or a regulation or a rule of some sort. All she needed was to get caught doing something illegal; this new life she was building could disappear in a heartbeat. So until she knew her new neighbors better, she didn’t dare let on that she was anything less than a straight-arrow kind of woman.
Snorting, she said, “If they only knew.”
At the sound of her voice her dog, Innocent, Inny for short, lifted her head, her long ears perking up. Inny was a ten-pound, short-haired, white-with-brown-spots bundle of love. Savannah had found her abandoned at a rest area in Oklahoma three months ago, and it had been love at first sight for them both.
“I guess it’s time to get started,” Savannah told her. The dog’s tiny tail wagged.
Savannah rose from the bench and glanced around, confirming that their privacy remained intact. The only other sign of life was a lone hawk sailing a thermal high above. Yet despite the secluded nature of the spot—or perhaps because of it—she felt her grandmother’s spirit all around her.
“It’s a beautiful place, Grams. The sky is a lovely blue and the air is crisp and clean. It reminds me of home. It’s the prettiest of all the places we’ve visited since we left Georgia.”
Savannah blinked back tears. Before she died, Rebecca Aldrich had sent her granddaughter a letter containing a request for the disposal of her remains should Savannah decide to leave the state. Previously she’d always intended to be buried at home on Firefly Mountain, but after everything that had happened, she couldn’t bear the thought of being so close to the Vaughns. She’d asked Savannah to take her to … and leave her at … places that Savannah thought she would enjoy.
Savannah had begun planning her route since receiving news of her grandmother’s death almost three years ago. She’d left Georgia with six different containers filled with her grandmother’s remains. After stops at a beautiful beach, a lake in the Ozarks, a riverboat on the Mississippi, a wheat field in Kansas, and the courtyard of a Mexican food restaurant in Texas, she had arrived here today with a single muslin bag tucked into a button tin.
“This place is called Lover’s Leap. It’s not the highest elevation around, but the canyon floor below us is a long way down. I think it’s a perfect place for an angel to fly, Grams.”
And now the final good-bye was upon her.
Savannah opened the large wicker picnic basket lined in a red bandanna print. She removed a Mason jar of clear liquid, two shot glasses, two Haviland china plates, a dinner knife, a yellow gingham napkin, a homemade pimento cheese sandwich—Grams’ recipe—and an apple. Then she opened her tote bag and withdrew the battered cookie tin that Grams had used as a button box for as long as Savannah could remember.
Setting the tin in the middle of the picnic table, she used the knife to cut both the sandwich and the apple in half, then divided the food onto the two plates. She began to eat her lunch, sharing bites with Inny as she carried on a conversation with her grandmother.
“I think I’ve settled on my initial line of fragrances for the retail shop. I decided to limit the number to five after my visit to the handmade soap store at the upscale mall in Dallas. Their products are fabulous, but the scents assault a customer when she walks in. I want my store to be fresh, inviting, and tempting. Not cloying and not overpowering.”
She munched her apple and pictured the property she’d rented with an option to buy on Fourth Street between Spruce and Pinyon. The house needed some work, but it had personality, and when she imagined it with a coat of paint, windows washed, and red geraniums on the porch, she sensed she would love living and working there. A previous owner had begun the conversion of the downstairs into retail space, and Savannah had hired a local schoolteacher, Jim Brand, who supplemented his income