Savannah was an incredible high. Why hadn’t he ever figured this out before?
He opened the front door and heard Savannah’s voice even before he reached the kitchen. Something was wrong. He quickened his pace. He’d learned how to recognize her moods.
“Claire, I can’t believe you would stoop so low.” She was angry. Boy howdy, he didn’t think he’d ever heard her voice sound so harsh.
“Well, if you didn’t do this horrible thing, then who did? I would really appreciate it if you would back off and tell Greg that he needs to call me so we can discuss this like adults.”
Dash entered the kitchen to find Savannah standing at the sink, looking out the window with her back to him. Her body was tense—practically rigid through the shoulders. The wicked witch of Baltimore was obviously on the other end of the line.
Savannah pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it. “Bitch,” she growled.
“Did she hang up on you?” Dash asked.
She turned. Holy moly, her face was a mess.
“Darlin’ what is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, her lips tight. She pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and blew her nose.
“You’ve been crying. It has to be something.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She dabbed her eyes. “I’ve got to get supper started. It’s book club night.” She didn’t meet his gaze.
“Darlin’, what’s the wicked witch up to now?”
“It’s nothing. She’s being difficult is all, and she makes me so angry. I don’t like feeling angry. So please, just leave me alone. I need to cook.”
She started moving around the kitchen like a whirlwind. It occurred to him that Savannah’s love for cooking was emotionally rooted. She and Aunt Sally had been thick as thieves. She might remember her grandfather better, but in some ways she was a whole lot like Aunt Sally. Aunt Sally almost never got angry, but when she did, she would cry. And the tears coming out of Savannah’s eyes were a dead giveaway.
He ought to leave her alone. But he couldn’t. All he could think about was the way Uncle Earnest used to handle Aunt Sally. So he sauntered up behind her, put his hands on her tense shoulders, and turned her around.
He didn’t try to kiss her, or talk to her, or anything. He just gave her the biggest hug he could muster. She kind of melted into his chest, and that warmed him up from the inside out. It wasn’t even a sexual warmth, it was just… good. To hold her like this was just the best thing in the world. Especially when she leaned on him. No one had done that before. Ever.
He held her for a solid two minutes before she pushed away. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. She was still upset about something, but she wasn’t going to talk about it.
He wanted her to share her burden with him. But he couldn’t force that kind of trust. He needed to give her time. And the strange thing was that he knew he had all the time in the world.
She wasn’t going anywhere. She was here to stay.
“I gotta cook dinner,” she said.
“Okay. I’ll get out of your hair. Where’s Todd?”
“He’s at Oliver’s house. He’s having dinner over there.”
“We were going to go to Golfing for God for putt-putt tonight.”
She shrugged. “I guess he forgot. I’m glad he has friends his own age.”
Something wasn’t right. But he didn’t want to push it. “Okay.” He headed down the hall and out to the porch. Aunt Miriam was sitting in her rocker. She looked like she was sleeping.
The skin along her jawline looked waxy. She had gotten so frail these last few months. His heart squeezed in his chest. Aunt Mim would be eighty-five in September. He had to accept that her days on this earth were numbered. In fact, lately, since Uncle Harry died, she seemed to be less interested in things. Like she wanted to go be with Harry instead of being here. With him.
He didn’t like thinking about that. And he didn’t like thinking about the way Savannah wouldn’t meet his eyes, just now.
What in the world would he do if Miriam died and Savannah left? The question rocked him to his soul.
Savannah sniffled back her tears and finished layering the noodles and cheese for her lasagna.
She needed to stop crying. How the hell was she supposed to tell Dash what Claire had gotten up to? It would destroy him to know that people thought he was a danger to kids. If she fought