Know Your Heart: A New Zealand - Tracey Alvarez Page 0,43
you’re fine.” He climbed onto the step and got hold of her arm—taking care to keep his grip gentle but you-are-so-coming-with-me firm. “You’re sitting in the dark and you must be halfway to hypothermia if you’re voluntarily wearing a bunny suit, so get over yourself and come—”
An explosive crack echoed through the valley, splitting the night. Glen hauled Savannah off her fluffy pink feet and ran. A whooshing noise surrounded them, followed seconds later by a bone-jarring crunch as something big and leaf-covered slammed into the caravan.
Leaves and broken-off chips of wood and twig pinged off his back as he sprinted for the deck, Savannah’s hand gripping his jacket with anaconda strength.
He leaned against the house wall, shifting position so he had a better hold of her in his arms. She shivered, pressing into him. Her nose felt like a rounded ice cube, and little hiccuppy sobs puffed against his throat.
“Hey, you’re okay. It was just a tree.”
“Uncle Glen?” A strained voice came from behind the window at his back. “What’s happening?”
“I’m outside with Savannah,” he yelled, pitching his voice above the wind. “A tree just fell on her caravan.”
Savannah squeaked in dismay and tried to arch around. He pushed away from the wall and climbed the steps onto the deck. One glimpse of the new silhouette on the lawn—half caravan shaped, half wild branches—told him she was better off not seeing the damage until morning.
“It hit D-d-daisy?”
“It sure sounded that way,” he said. “But there’s nothing more we can do tonight. Let’s get you inside.”
The outside lights came on, and he blinked in the sudden brightness. He glanced down through squinted eyes at the fleece-covered woman in his arms. She still clutched her script, the wind ruffling the paper. Her fingers relaxed on the back of his jacket, and she gazed up at him, a floppy, pink-lined ear drooping in her face. She nudged it away with the corner of her script, and the wind caught her hood, tearing it off and exposing the vulnerable curve of her neck.
“You k-k-keep doing this, don’t you?”
“What?”
Footsteps thudded down the hallway toward the door. Tom to the rescue.
“Saving me.” Her mouth twisted into a shaky smile. “S-s-saving me when I think I don’t need saving.”
His racing heart tripped and fell into his rubber boots. Had she remembered it was him that night?
“First when I nearly slipped over in your kitchen,” she said. “Now when a tree almost squashes me. I’m such a klutz.”
Tom saved Glen the need to formulate a reply by flinging open the door. The boy leaned his weight against it to keep it pinned open. Glen edged past and Tom shut the door, cutting of the worst of the wind’s screaming.
“Are you okay?” his nephew asked as Glen lowered Savannah to her feet.
He had to order his fingers to behave, as the temptation of curvy woman who still smelled of summer flowers and ripe berries made him want to keep his hands on her. Even if she was covered in a bunny suit.
“I’m fine,” he said distractedly, one hand lightly resting on Savannah’s upper back.
“I meant Savannah.”
Glen aimed a glance over his shoulder in time to catch Tom’s exaggerated duh! eye roll.
Savannah hugged her script tighter against her chest and attempted a game smile, but she still shook like a marathon runner after a race. “I’ll be okay.”
“Once you’ve had a hot shower and some dry clothes.” Glen crooked a finger at Tom. “Go and grab a change of my clothes for Savannah, and one of your fleeces and a pair of socks. You’re closer to her size than I am.”
Tom looked scandalized then his face split into an ear-to-ear grin. Glen could almost read the boy’s thoughts, as if they scrolled in neon letters across his forehead: Savannah Payne is gonna be wearing my clothes. Legendary!
Glen lowered his eyebrows into a menacing V, so Tom dialed the smile down to a smirk and hurried along the hallway.
“On it,” he called, ducking into Glen’s room.
Glen switched his gaze back to Savannah, frozen in place against the hallway wall, protectively curled around her script.
“C’mon,” he said. “Have a hot shower, and I’ll put your script near the fire where it’s warm. It’ll dry out in no time.”
“My caravan’s ruined, isn’t it?” Her lower lip trembled, and she pinched her mouth together, wrenching her face away from him to stare down the hallway. “Guess I’ll be going back to Auckland, after all. You win.”