The Eligible Suspect. Jennifer MoreyЧитать онлайн книгу.
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