“I expect you’ll be busy this week, so I’ll leave you to your packing. Pick me up for church Sunday at eight forty-five, though. And it’s the monthly social after worship, so be sure to bring your mama’s peach cobbler.”
“Aunt Gibby, I’m only here for a short time and I have so much—”
“Nonsense. There’s always time to worship the Lord and eat a good country meal. Get some sleep now. You’re looking a bit peaked.”
Zach gave her a searching glance and said, “It was good to see you again, Savannah. Call if you need me.”
A slight nod seemed to be the safest response. Savannah waited until Zach and Aunt Gibby were down the steps and headed to the driveway before she closed the door. Leaning back against it again, she blew out a huge sigh. So much for wanting to fly under the radar. Not only would she be seeing most of the town on Sunday, there’d been a definite promise in Zach’s eyes. He was going to want to talk.
Dwelling on that would get her nowhere. Savannah pushed away from the wall and went in to finish the few remaining dishes. Once that was done, she grabbed the overnight bag she’d dropped on the floor and made her way up the stairs. At the top of the landing, she veered left. With eight bedrooms on the second floor and an additional three on the third floor, she could have her pick. However, she automatically went to the room that had been hers the first eighteen years of her life.
She stopped at the door and took in the memories. Pale green walls with pink rosebuds—she’d picked out the wallpaper three days before her mother was killed. Her bed was a copy of a nineteenth-century cherry sleigh bed she’d seen in a magazine. Her grandfather had surprised her with it on her fifteenth birthday. Sammie and Bri had gotten new beds, too, but she’d always thought hers was the prettiest. To the left of the bed was a cherry and marble vanity where she’d sat for hours, most often trying to tame her hair. And hanging from the mirror were Mardi Gras beads she’d collected on her last celebration in Mobile.
So many wonderful memories, but so much heartache, too. Ten years of happy childhood had been destroyed in one brief, inexplicable act of violence. The betrayal she and her sisters had felt had overwhelmed them. Now, after eighteen years, her hurt had been replaced with sad acceptance and an intense bitterness toward her father. All the warm, wonderful memories she had of him had evaporated as if they’d never existed. Rarely did she even let herself think about him.
Savannah dropped her bag on the floor and headed out of the bedroom. The night after she lost her parents and every night until she left home, she had gone to her mother’s sitting room and said good night. A silly tradition, but one she couldn’t break. This house would soon belong to someone else and she’d no longer have the opportunity.
As she made her way to the other side of the house where her parents’ rooms had been, she took a few seconds to glance at the photographs on the walls. If one took the time to view them all, the entire history of the Wildes was portrayed. Weddings, graduations, parties, holidays, and new babies covered the walls in a vast array of tradition and family unity.
Approaching the area where the most current photographs were displayed, Savannah let her eyes briefly whisk over the ones that included Beckett Wilde. Knowing the pain his granddaughters were going through, her grandfather had removed the ones of her father the day after her parents’ funeral. He had replaced them after she and her sisters left home. A few of the pictures were of Beckett when he was much younger—a child, then a teen.
Her eyes swept over a family portrait they’d had taken the winter before their happy family had been destroyed. Anyone not knowing the events would assume they were looking at a loving, close-knit family, including a husband and father who adored his wife and children.
Unable to stop herself, her gaze moved to her father’s high school senior portrait. Even with her prejudice, she couldn’t deny that he had been an extremely handsome man. At just over six feet, with broad shoulders and strong arms, he had seemed larger than life to her; she’d thought he was the most beautiful man on the planet.