Читать книгу The Eligible Suspect - Jennifer Morey - Страница 11

Chapter 2

“I’m not using my house as a fortress to protect me from men, Mother.” Putting her book down on the table, Savanna Ivy stood up from the cushiony chair in the corner of the loft. Her feet sank into the thick mocha rug as she passed between a love seat and a television atop an antique wood cabinet. A log railing allowed a view of the living room below. She saw through the gabled windows and under exterior lights that it was snowing harder now. Her mother had interrupted a really good book on a stormy evening.

“You went there on purpose,” her mother said.

“I live here.”

“On purpose,” her mother insisted. “Your reclusiveness worries me.”

Camille Ivy didn’t like it when Savanna went into her hermit modes. She couldn’t surprise her with her celebratory family visits. Tucked deep in the woods just south of Wolf Creek Pass, Savanna’s log home was on seventy-five rugged acres in Colorado’s southeastern San Juan Mountains. In winter, she was frequently snowed in.

She went down the open stairs and into her living room, passing a white leather sofa, love seat and chairs with nail-head trim on a mosaic rug in dark green and black. A beautiful alder wood buffet and wine cabinet were behind the sofa and against the wall.

Beside the large gabled window, the black gneiss rock fireplace rose all the way up to an exposed log ceiling. She had a fire going. Soft piano music played from her stereo, stored in a built-in cabinet where a huge television was embedded in the log wall, off for now.

The sun had set an hour ago. It had been snowing all afternoon and the news had forecast another storm the next night, a much more severe storm. A blizzard, they were saying. Savanna couldn’t wait to spend the day cooking and reading.

“You need to talk about it, Savanna,” her mother said in her silence.

“I like living alone, Mom. There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m okay. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

Another man had broken her heart and she was in the grieving process. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through this before. It’ll pass.”

“That’s what worries me.” Then her mother sighed. “You and Autumn. You’re both so independent. At least she’s around other people when she travels, and she found herself a decent man.”

That came with a sting Savanna had trouble pushing away. Savanna had thought she’d met two decent men, but they’d turned out to be liars.

After a moment, her mother said, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”

Savanna wished her mother would stop talking. “It just hasn’t worked out for me yet. It is what it is.”

“You bought that mountain home after the first one.”

Savanna didn’t argue. Her mother thought she was hiding here, burying her heartache and protecting herself from any more. Maybe she was. She felt better here than anywhere else. That had to count for something. If her mother preferred to think of her remote mountain house as a fortress, then it was a fortress. The only way in was a long and winding dirt road. Either that or on a snowmobile, or a pair of cross-country skis or snowshoes, or horseback. And when it snowed as it did now, no one was getting in and Savanna wasn’t getting out. She needed this time to herself. Being alone and isolated rejuvenated her.

“You need to get out more. Be with other people. Socialize. It’s not good for you to be pent up in your house with nothing else to do than think.”

“I have plenty to do here. And I’ll come see you in spring.”

“Don’t be a smart-mouth, Savanna Ivy.”

“I’m not. The way it looks outside, it will be spring by the time I get out of here.

In her mother’s long silence, Savanna added, “Do you really think all I’m doing here is obsessing over my ex-boyfriend?”

With that her mother breathed a laugh. “No. Your hobbies are keeping you busy, I’m sure. And you always were a solitary girl. I just hate to see you hurt.”

“I’ll get over that. And I will come and see you this spring.”

“Okay, honey. You’ve managed to somewhat calm me.” And then she asked, “Did you plow your road?”

So her mother could come to visit? Savanna could hear her thinking it.

“No.”

“Are you going to have it plowed?”

“Sometime. When I need to get out of here, I’ll have it plowed.” Until she was ready for visitors, she was grateful for the snow.

“Oh, Savanna.”

Savanna laughed lightly. “Would you like me to host a family gathering here?”

“You know I’d love that, and you also know I prefer spontaneity. But you take your time. Just call me often so I know you’re okay.”

“I will. Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too.”

Savanna pressed the off button on her remote phone and stared out the gabled window, entranced by the falling snow. Maybe she’d have her road plowed later this week. One night with her family wouldn’t be so bad. Except for all the questions.

She was about to start dinner when she saw something. Soft lighting reflected on the glass. Leaning closer, she saw headlights shining through the heavy snow. A truck. It wasn’t moving. Who would come to see her during a snowstorm? Were they lost? A vehicle not moving in this weather would put anyone inside in real trouble. If they stayed in the truck and ran out of gas, they’d freeze, and if they tried to walk through the snow, they might not make it to her door without snowshoes. She watched for several more minutes. Whoever was out there was well and truly stuck on her road. There had to be at least two feet on the ground.

Going to the front entry and into a large walk-in closet where she kept every imaginable necessity for navigating snowy terrain, in several varying sizes to accommodate her large family, Savanna geared up in her under-and outerwear and put on some boots. Meeting a stranger or strangers on a remote, snowy road had its risks. She was a single woman all alone in unforgiving wilderness. Stuffing a container of Mace into her pocket, she left the warm coziness of her house and stepped into the fifteen-degree air.

Snow pelted her face as she made her way to the barn. The four-car garage was attached to the house and the heated barn wasn’t far from there. She employed caretakers who did most of the work, but they were off for the weekend. She managed everything on her own when she had to. She preferred it that way so that she’d be self-sufficient whenever she needed to be. Savanna, like most of her siblings, did not depend on others to take care of herself.

Inside the barn, she saddled a big gray Oldenburg stallion named Gandalf. He was built for the rugged terrain of the San Juan Mountains. With sturdy legs and lots of stamina, he was also a beautiful animal, sort of like a giant version of a Friesian. She had a stable full of Oldenburg horses. They were her favorite horse for their strength, versatility and personality.

The horse nickered as she led him outside, eager for the exercise he anticipated.

Climbing onto his eighteen-hand-high back, Savanna gave him a gentle nudge with her heels. The stallion began to walk through the deep snow, occasionally having to leap.

Savanna squinted as the three-quarter-inch snowflakes fell. Every once in a while the wind gusted and she could barely make out the edges of the road. She followed the wood crossbuck fence with copper post caps that ran all the way down the road to the highway. Seeing the truck, she looked for signs of a person. There was too much snow on the truck to tell if anyone was inside.

Gandalf whinnied and tossed his brawny head, tugging at the bit as though eager to run for the new adventure that shone a light on him.

Savanna spotted the figure of a man trying to shovel the tires of his truck free from snow. A lot of good that would do. What did he think he’d do once he dug himself out of the ditch? Drive a few feet and get stuck again? Four-wheel drive or not, this snow was deep enough to stop anyone. She really wasn’t in the mood for company. Putting her annoyance in check, she committed herself to helping someone in need.

He quit working when she neared. At the truck, she halted the big horse. He was a giant of a man. Probably six-four. She amended her earlier assumption. This guy could probably have walked through the deep snow all the way to her house.

“Are you lost?” she asked.

He stepped through the deep snow and stopped next to her. “I made a wrong turn.”

“Where were you headed?” Her neighbor ran a yurt touring company on his ranch. He’d converted his eight bedroom house into a bed-and-breakfast. Maybe he was trying to find it.

“A friend of mine has a cabin near here.”

She looked through the snow at his truck. There was no one else inside. “Who?”

“Julio Chavis.”

The name sounded familiar, but she hesitated. Gandalf stomped his foot and snorted, eager to be moving in the heavy snow.

“It’s his vacation home,” the man said.

Savanna patted Gandalf’s neck as he stomped and snorted again. “Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

Why would anyone come up here to be alone? Recalling her conversation with her mother, she realized that may not be so unusual. Besides, she knew of a man who owned a cabin two miles up the highway from her road and across from the yurt touring lodge. She’d never met him. He rarely came here; at least that’s what Hurley over at Lost Trail Lodge had told her.

Reluctant to open her home to a stranger, she looked at his truck again, buried to the top of the wheel wells in snow. He wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

“Do you have a plow?” he asked.

Returning her gaze to him with a frown. “No. I hire out for that.”

“When will you hire out to plow it this time?”

He seemed as annoyed as her, wishing she’d have kept her road passable.

“I can have someone out here in the morning.”

He nodded with a grim line to his mouth. He wasn’t keen on being stuck here. He’d rather be at his friend’s cabin. Alone. She could relate to that.

In her silence, he twisted to look back through the falling snow. “It wasn’t as deep through the trees. Should have turned around in there.” He tipped his face up to the sky. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“Common for this area.” She contemplated him some more, Gandalf shifting his feet with another snort. Well, there was nothing else that could be done. “Get your things and climb on. You can stay here for the night.”

“Maybe if I could use your phone.”

And do what? Call a cab? “No one will come out here tonight, not in this storm.”

After a few seconds of internal debate, he went to the truck and retrieved a duffel bag, then turned off the engine and locked the vehicle.

Rather than take her hand, he grabbed the saddle horn and propelled himself up onto the horse’s back behind her.

Gandalf pranced through the snow and then leaped into a trot, his gait smooth and belying the deepening snow.

Turning her head, she asked, “What’s your name?”

“Korbin Maguire,” he answered. He had a deep, gravelly voice that tickled her senses and caught her off guard. “And you are?”

Still grappling with her reaction to him, she squinted against snowflakes and said, “Savanna Ivy.” Had his voice changed because of a similar reaction to her?

“Nice to meet you, Savanna. I’ll thank you in advance for your hospitality.”

He sounded more professional now, as though he’d checked himself. “Well, I couldn’t leave you out here in this storm.”

“I would have hiked up to your house. Would have been a workout, but you wouldn’t have had to ride out in this.”

“Gandalf loves a good ride.” She patted the stallion’s neck.

“He’s a big horse.”

“That’s why I bought him. He’s well suited for these mountains.”

They both had to turn away from a gust of wind that pelted them with snow.

“How long is this storm supposed to last?” he asked.

“At least tonight. Another storm’s headed this way after that. A bigger one.”

They reached the barn.

“Isn’t this one big enough?” Korbin asked as he dismounted.

Savanna climbed off after him and led Gandalf through the corral gate. Korbin closed that while she opened the barn door. When they were all inside, Korbin shut the door. Instant relief from the billowing snow made Savanna sigh. Other horses nickered and snorted and moved in their stalls with the new activity. During the day, their outer doors were opened to individual corrals with enough room to move around.

While she pulled off Gandalf’s saddle, Korbin surveyed the barn. It was a nice barn. Savanna would make no fuss over that. Money had not been a factor when she’d built it. If she was going to have horses in this climate, they would be safe and comfortable.

“Where’s the spa?” Korbin teased, grinning.

And oh, what a hot grin that was. Savanna stopped brushing Gandalf to stare. She had noticed how in-shape he was back on the road, but he’d removed his hat and unzipped his jacket and she could see more of his face. What had begun with the sound of his voice now sparked into a tickling sensation.

This was how she’d fallen for her last two boyfriends. That initial attraction. Masculine, handsome face. Eyes she could melt into. Then letting her guard down. Trusting a little too much.

Snapping out of her trance, she looked around at the other five stalls, heads of varying colors poking out to observe them. Just because he was handsome didn’t mean he was worth exploring. She had to get better at that—not letting her guard down too soon.

Turning back to Gandalf, she finished grooming him, ever aware of Korbin. He’d sensed her reaction, and it wasn’t to his joke about spas. He said no more.

Going to a cabinet at the back of the stable, she reached into a basket of fresh carrots she kept there and took out two. Korbin waited at the stall, watching her feed the horse the treat.

“What do you do?” she asked. If they were going to be spending the night together, they might as well get acquainted.

When he didn’t immediately answer, her wariness sprang up. She looked at him.

“I’m a computer scientist,” he said. “Currently between jobs.”

Why had he hesitated? Had he contemplated lying? Was he lying? Why would he lie about being a computer scientist?

“What kind of job did you have?”

He seemed to think first before he said, “Systems engineering.”

“Were you fired?”

“No. I left. I’m taking a break for a while.”

Why did he feel he needed a break? The same reason he needed to spend time alone in remote wilderness? There was something about him that made her wary, the way he hesitated before answering her, why he was alone up here.

“What about you?” he asked.

She began to understand his earlier hesitation. How much was she willing to reveal about herself to him?

Savanna petted Gandalf’s nose, who had finished his treat and stuck his head out of his stall. His soft nose and the loving blinks of his big brown eyes soothed her. “Nothing right now.” She paused. “I was a motivational speaker, but not anymore.”

“Taking a sabbatical, too?”

Despite his charmed grin, she didn’t respond. That was a topic she did not feel like discussing. She’d only recently decided to stop speaking about positive thinking. And she’d told no one in her family about that. Jazzing others up with positive energy used to give her positive energy, and then she realized this was who she was. A loner. Not the interesting person she personified in front of an audience.

Leaning forward to kiss the soft fur of Gandalf’s nose, she turned and walked for the exit.

Korbin picked up his bag and followed. Back out in the snowstorm, Savanna was aware of his glances as they trekked through the deep snow. Then his attention shifted to the house. Big, golden logs jutted out at the corners, except at one end, where the turret rose like a sentinel. Made of black gneiss like the chimney, the color and texture contrasted beautifully with the logs.

Korbin closed the door behind him, taking in the open walk-in closet filled with winter gear. “You must have been some motivational speaker.”

When would he get the hint that she wasn’t going to talk about that? She hung up her jacket and removed her boots and snow pants. Now down to her base layer, she ignored Korbin’s appreciation of the close-fitting material, a floral-patterned white thermal top and matching tights.

He was in wet jeans.

“Would you like me to dry those?” she asked.

“Sure.”

She looked up at him watching her. “I’ll show you to the guest room.” Turning, she led him into the living room, seeing how he missed no detail. Upstairs, they passed her loft and went down a hallway.

At the first door, across from a full bathroom, she stopped and flipped on the light switch. Lamps on each side of the bed illuminated tan walls and the cushiony white comforter with soft green throw pillows. Sheer drapes hung parted over two windows on each side and a dark square iron decoration in a sun-like shape hung above the bed.

When he nodded his thanks with one more sweep of his gaze over her thermal underwear, she closed the door and went to her master bedroom, this one bigger. Although the walls were the same color, a painting of a mountain meadow in fall hung above a king-size bed covered in reds and yellows, and there was a balcony where she planned to do a lot of reading in the summer. Going into her oversize walk-in closet, she changed into some spandex pants and a flannel shirt. Leaving her room, she passed his still-closed door and went back downstairs to wait for him, unable to explain her sense of foreboding.

In her large kitchen, she went to the phone stand and looked up her neighbor’s number. There was no cell service up here.

Holding the phone to her ear, she walked into the living room while the phone rang a few times. Then Hurley answered.

“It’s Savanna.”

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” At least, she hoped so. She glanced up to the railing that exposed the loft and hallway and the still-closed guest room door.

“It’s snowing pretty good out there,” he said.

“Yes. A man got stuck on my road. He told me that he was on his way to that cabin across from your lodge. Have you heard anything about that?”

“No. Chavis keeps to himself. I’ve only met him a few times. Why? Are you worried?”

“No.” She relaxed a little. Korbin had said the man’s name was Chavis.

“How did he end up at your place?”

“He took a wrong turn and got stuck on my road. I didn’t have it plowed.”

“I bet you aren’t happy about that.”

Hurley knew her well enough to know she liked her isolation. Most people who lived up here did. They weren’t city folks.

“I’ll manage.” She looked out the gabled window. Heavy snow falling under outdoor lights didn’t have the comfort value it had before she spotted the truck on her road.

“You sure you’re okay? Robert and I can ride over on snowmobiles. You can stay the night here.”

“No.” Savanna felt trapped in other people’s houses, and she’d especially feel that way now. “I’ll be all right.”

“If you’re sure...”

“I’m sure. He’s harmless enough.”

“All right, then. I’ll call Mike and have him out there first thing tomorrow morning to plow your road.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“I’m a phone call away, Savanna.”

She smiled. “I know. Thanks, Hurley.” He was about ten years older than her and married to a sweet woman who cooked with the skill of an executive chef.

Hanging up the phone, she put the handset down on a side table next to the sofa. Straightening, she turned and her body jolted. Korbin stood there. She hadn’t heard him come down the stairs.

He’d changed into a long-sleeved soft-gray henley and distressed denim jeans. His feet were bare. Back up at his face, she was drawn into his ghost-gray eyes. Messy, thick black hair was cut to about an inch and a half, and stubble peppered his jaw. He had an unnerving way about him. More than his size, an eerie mystery shrouded him.

“Feel better now that you’ve checked up on me?” he asked.

Was he insulted? No. She saw that he was teasing her.

“I promise I won’t bite,” he said.

“Okay, but I might.” She smiled but the message was clear. She would bite if he got out of line.

Although he didn’t smile or grin, his eyes showed his humor—or was that shrewdness? “Then we’re both safe.”

She went to the stereo. Shutting that off, she turned on the television. The channel was set to a local station. The news.

Korbin appeared, walking slowly, observing as he had before, missing no detail. He picked up the remote from where she’d set it on a side table.

“Do you mind?” he asked.

She shook her head and he changed the channel to something on the wilderness of China. She sat down on a white leather chair, debating whether she should call Hurley back and ask him to come pick this man up and take him to the lodge.

“What’s a young, beautiful woman like you doing living in the mountains all alone?” He sat on the other leather chair. “What are you? Twenty?”

“Thirty-three. You?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Where do you live?”

“Is this where we get to know each other?” he asked, now with a slight grin.

She didn’t think he was flirting, just keeping it light. “I’ve never had a stranger in my house before.”

“I live in Denver. I bought a house in Montana, but I don’t go there much.”

Two houses? Why Montana? And why didn’t he go there much? “Not married?”

“Not anymore.” His terse answer and the dousing of any sign of humor alerted her to something amiss. With his arms on the rests, he tapped his palm against one in agitation.

She didn’t push him further. She understood the need to avoid those types of subjects. “Are you from Montana?”

“No. I grew up in North Carolina.”

Work must have brought him to Colorado. She suspected the house in Montana had something to do with the woman he’d married.

“Your family lives there?” she asked.

“My parents. I’m an only child.” He looked at the television but she could tell he wasn’t paying attention to the program.

“What’s it like being an only child?” Savanna asked. “I have seven brothers and sisters.”

His brow raised and he whistled, his mood lifting.

“It’s a miracle any of us got any attention growing up.”

“How do families manage with that many kids?” he asked.

Delighted that he didn’t recognize her name, Savanna almost didn’t tell him. “Jackson Ivy is my dad. They managed just fine.”

“Jackson Ivy?”

He seriously did not know her father? Savanna’s jaw dropped open as she gaped at him. “You don’t know who Jackson Ivy is?”

“No. Should I?”

“Well, if you watch any movies you should.” But then again, why should he? Why did anyone have to care about the producer of a movie they watched?

“He’s an actor?”

Savanna started laughing. “No. He’s a movie producer. Did you see The Last Planet?”

“No, but I’ve heard of it. That’s your dad?”

She laughed again, softer now. “Yes.”

“Your parents live in a mansion in California. I caught a documentary about that once.” He stared at her as though she were an alien now.

“Changes the dynamics, doesn’t it?” Although she joked, she was actually quite serious. All of her brothers and sisters dealt with this in one way or another.

He only continued to stare at her.

Savanna began to feel uncomfortable. What was he thinking? That he’d struck gold? If he owned two homes he had to have money. She didn’t know what computer engineers made but it must be decent.

“My dad founded Maguire Mercantile,” he finally said.

Stunned, Savanna stared back at him while the significance of that sank in. Maguire Mercantile was a Fortune 500 company, a well-known leader in ranch and farm supplies, but their Maguire outerwear was popular with anyone. Mountaineers. Skiers. School kids. You name it. They were experts at keeping people warm and dry.

“Wow,” Savanna breathed. “Your dad might be richer than mine.”

His deep laughter made her laugh with him, and then she became aware of other things. His big body relaxed in her white chair, legs open, broad shoulders and strong arms. A giant package of yum right here in her living room.

“Were you dreading telling me who your dad was?” he asked.

“Yes.” She was still smiling.

“I always dread telling women who mine is.”

She related to him on a level that sent her guard up. She felt as though she were sliding down a slippery slope with nothing to grab a hold of.

“Growing up, I felt like Richie Rich. I love my parents and they’re good, loving people, but they’re a couple of rich snobs.”

“You watched the documentary on my parents’ mansion,” Savanna said. “Mine are, too.”

“Yeah, but your mother seemed so down to earth. That’s why I remembered it.”

“She is all about the family. But she isn’t innocent of showing off her wealth. Her parties are embarrassing sometimes.”

He chuckled. “I stopped going to the ones my parents held after I turned eighteen and left for college. I couldn’t stomach seeing them act different than when we were at home together.”

The camaraderie they shared was amazing and began to make her uneasy. “Do you see them often?”

There was that hesitation again. “Not as often as I should.”

Why not? She decided not to ask.

“You?”

She supposed it was only fair that she answer that question. “One of my mother’s favorite pastimes is surprising her children with visits. She usually gathers up as many of the other family members as she can before arriving unannounced with food and beverages. It’s either that or we all meet at the family home in Evergreen. It’s a more central location than the mansion in California.”

“It would be hard for her to surprise you here.”

“One of many amenities of this place.” She met his eyes and couldn’t look away despite the inner warnings ringing in her head.

She stood up. “I was going to make dinner when I saw your headlights.”

“Can I help?”

He must be hungry. “No. Make yourself at home.” She met his eyes a moment longer, wondering if she should have extended that much of a welcoming invitation.

Before going into the kitchen, she glanced once more out the window where the snow piled higher by the hour. How long would this man be stuck here with her? On the surface he appeared to be good and honest. But what secrets would she find he harbored...and why?