the room and opened the large walk-in closet. Suits, sweaters, jackets, shirts, and pants were all neatly hanging. Shoes, all with a military shine, gleamed at her from their shelf. Taking a deep breath, Savannah set to work.
Three hours later, she had reached the back of the closet and was almost at the end of her energy. Thankfully her grandfather hadn’t been a clotheshorse or a pack rat, but still there’d been more clothes than she had anticipated. Seven boxes were now packed with a nice assortment of clothing that someone, somewhere, would be able to put to good use.
The doorbell had rung three times in as many hours. She was glad she had closed the blinds and not answered. Making social calls and knowing the ins and outs of one another’s lives was part of the culture here. So different from a big city like Nashville, where one could go days or weeks without seeing a neighbor.
Her arms loaded with sweaters, Savannah turned. A tall, mountainous figure stood at the entrance to the closet. She squeaked out a small squeal and dropped the sweaters on her feet.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you. I rang the bell and knocked several times. When no one answered, I got concerned.”
Hands on her hips, Savannah glared at Zach. “I wasn’t answering the door because I have so much to do. And how the hell do you have a key to the house, anyway?”
Broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Your grandfather never changed his spare-key hiding spot. Can’t believe that fake rock in the flower bed is still there.”
She stepped around the pile of sweaters and held out her hand. “I’ll take the key and put it away. I didn’t realize it was still there.”
Instead of handing the key to her, he looked down at the pile of clothes at her feet. “Need some help?”
Stooping down, she grabbed up the load of sweaters and marched toward the door. Zach thankfully backed away, allowing her out of the closet that was becoming more than a little claustrophobic.
She dumped the clothes on the bed and turned to face him. Before she could ask why he was here, he whistled and said, “You’ve gotten a lot done already.”
Her eyes shifted away from him and took in the scene. All of these boxes and only two small moments where she’d broken into tears. One had been caused by the half pack of Juicy Fruit gum she’d found in a jacket—her grandfather had rarely been without gum in his pocket and Juicy Fruit had been his favorite. The other time was when she’d found a cashmere scarf he’d carefully folded and put in a bottom drawer. The scarf had been a gift from her mother, given to him for Christmas … the last Christmas they’d all been together.
As she swallowed around another inconvenient lump, a thought suddenly occurred to her. “There are still lots of nice things here that aren’t too outdated. I know Granddad would have been pleased if you took some of them. He was thinner but you guys were about the same height.”
The instant she said the words, she regretted them. Zach had grown up incredibly poor. She had meant nothing by her offer other than wanting the clothes to go to someone her grandfather had liked. However, offering Zach used clothes was probably not the most diplomatic thing she could have done.
Thankfully he didn’t seem to see it as an insult. “I appreciate that.” He stepped toward the bed and pulled a navy cable-knit sweater from the pile.
Savannah smiled, not surprised to see him select that particular one. It had been her grandfather’s Saturday morning sweater. In the short time they had dated, Zach had come for breakfast almost every Saturday. Granddad was always wearing that sweater … even during the summer months. Daniel Wilde had been a traditionalist; she had loved his predictability. He had provided the wonderful normalcy and security she and her sisters had so desperately needed.
“His Saturday morning sweater was one of his favorites.”
He shot her a glance. “I’ll wear it Saturday morning in his honor.”
Emotions clutched at her heart. Before she could get all misty-eyed again, she said, “What are you doing here again?”
“I need to talk to you about something.” Before she could ask what, he said, “I brought dinner.”
She swallowed a laugh. He’d probably brought dinner to prevent her heating up more of Aunt Gibby’s casserole. When she didn’t respond immediately, he added, “It’s from Captain Jimmy’s.”
Her heart