Copyright © Bella Settarra 2018. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.

The cruel rain pelted her like bullets as Savannah trudged through the muddy track that led her deeper into the back of beyond. Too exhausted to cry now, she muttered to herself about the injustice of it all, occasionally shouting into the looming darkness, imagining she was yelling at Daniel—as if she’d ever have the nerve.

Maybe that was what made it all the more galling, the fact that she’d never plucked up the courage to do anything about the way she had been treated—the way he had mistreated her for the past three years. But Daniel Edgerton was a clever man. Too clever. He’d say things that hurt her, belittled her, angered her even, but there had been nothing she could do about it. If she sulked, he’d ignore her. If she cried, he’d ask what on earth the matter was. And if she shouted? Well, no one could shout louder than him.

She hadn’t shouted tonight, though. It had barely been a whisper when she had told him she wanted a divorce. It made sense, in her head. Neither of them was happy and there was no reason to prolong the agony. But he hadn’t seen it the same way. Daniel always had his own way of looking at things.

“Of course we’re happy,” he told her in astonishment, his thin lips curled into an ugly sneer. “What are you talking about, woman?”

“But I don’t please you and you always shout at me,” she murmured, clearing away his still-half-full supper plate. “The meals I cook are never right, the clothes I wear are all wrong and you always complain about how I wear my hair.”

“Then learn to cook. Wear what I tell you and stop tying your hair up like an old crone.” His lips were tight with anger.

She sighed, his last comment cutting her deep. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my cooking. If you do, then maybe you should let me attend the cooking classes in the Town Hall, like I suggested last month. The clothes you want me to wear are too tight and too short for decency. And I tie my hair back while I’m working in the house to keep it tidy and out of the way.”

“So, you think you’re perfect?” he jeered, running a stiff hand through his sandy hair.

“No. Neither of us is perfect,” she said. ‘But I can see that I don’t make you happy, so I want us to get a divorce.”

“You don’t want me?” he accused her, narrowing his icy-gray eyes.

“No more than you want me, if you’re honest, Daniel.” She hoped to appeal to his logical side, the one he used every day at work. By laying it all out plainly, maybe they could discuss the matter like the adults they were—sensible, compromising adults.

“Then you don’t want anything from me? You don’t want my house or my money?”

Her stomach thudded. “Daniel, I’m not after your money. You know that. I’ve never been after your money.” Tucking a stray of wavy, red hair behind her ear, she stared at him beseechingly.

“Good.” He stood up then, walked over and opened the front door. The wind had blown in a torrent of rain. “Go on, then. Out.”

She stared at him. “I didn’t mean tonight. I haven’t packed yet, as you’re well-aware. And I haven’t made any plans. I thought we’d just talk about it first, decide…”

“You’ve already decided.” His voice was deep and booming out at her, making her quiver.

“Daniel, I—”

“Now. And don’t even think of taking anything with you. Everything in this house has been bought with my money—not yours. As you don’t want my money, that won’t be a problem, will it?”

“But—”

“Out!”

She walked toward the door, shaking with cold as well as fear. His face was stiff, his lips nothing more than a thin line and his steely eyes had faded with fury. There would be no reasoning with him.

“And you can forget about a divorce!” he yelled after her as she crossed the threshold.

Even the howling wind couldn’t drown out the slam of the door as soon as she went through it, and she took a deep breath, determined not to crumble, not to give him what he wanted…for once.

That same wind had mocked her all night and the rain had long since soaked her to the skin. Her jeans stuck to her legs like leeches, and her woolen sweater had stretched out of shape and hung around her icy flesh.

Her torn sneakers sloshed in the marshy embankment, and she stepped out into the track to avoid a huge puddle.

Suddenly, two lights split the night and she turned just in time to see a large vehicle veer to the left. She spun around to climb the slope, out of its way, but her foot slid on the wet mud and she screamed as she hit the ground.

“There’s someone here,” somebody cried out.

There was a panicked shout and moments later a flashlight shone in her face, making her flinch.

“Are you okay?” A man’s frantic voice permeated the mush in her head as he ran toward her, followed by someone else.

At first, she was afraid it was Daniel, having come looking for her—worried, guilty, sorry. She knew he wouldn’t be happy with her, no matter how else he felt. It wasn’t him, though.

With a mixture of relief and disappointment, she peered at the men who had joined her. “I’m fine,” she replied.

“We just came around that bend and…” the guy behind blurted out.

“So it was my fault?” She’d never spoken to a stranger like that before, but she’d had enough blame to last her a lifetime.

“No, of course not. It was an accident. I thought you were an animal of some kind, and… Oh God, I’m so sorry. I…”

“Let’s get you out of this mess, shall we?” the first guy offered a little more calmly, taking her arm.

“No, I don’t need your— Aah!” She’d put her weight on her right foot and the pain was agonizing. She couldn’t hold her balance and the guy put his other arm around her and scooped her up as though she weighed nothing.

“It’s your leg, huh?” he asked. “I’m Greg, by the way. Greg Jackson. That’s Tom.”

Greg was already striding over the road toward their truck, carrying her carefully.

“Don’t you have a bag or coat or anything?” Tom was shining his flashlight all around the area, searching for her belongings.

Both guys seemed even more shaken up than her at the accident.

“No, but…”

“Let’s get you inside. You’re soaked right through, sweetheart.” Greg had somehow managed to open the door to the truck and the courtesy light shone down on them, showing him to be a very handsome man.

“I don’t think so, thank you,” she told him, trying to push back against his thick-set, muscular frame. “I’m not going anywhere with a couple of strangers.”

Greg chuckled. “Well, I did tell you my name. And I’ve introduced you to my friend there, Tom Rankin, so the way I see it, we’re not exactly strangers, although we haven’t heard your name yet.” His deep blue eyes twinkled while Tom wrapped a blanket around her.

The soft wool was warm and soothing against her and she closed her eyes to savor the sensation. Greg set her in the middle of the bench seat while Tom leaned in and buckled her up.

“What’re you doing? I said—” Her eyes sprang open in shock as the men sat on either side of her, their welcoming warmth making her shudder.

Tom started the engine with shaking hands. “Where are you headed?” he asked her, his kind brown eyes staring into her face.

“Umm…”

“Well, you can’t be from around here ’cause there aren’t any houses for miles,” Greg said matter-of-factly as he slammed his door shut.

The truck started to move and warm air blew toward her. She pulled the blanket tighter while her mind whirled with confusion. Greg put an arm around her. She tried to push him off but didn’t have the strength.

“Could be hypothermia,” he muttered, undeterred.

Savannah had stopped shivering some time ago, feeling the cold take over her whole body. She closed her eyes in the warmth of the cab, knowing she should be trying to figure a way out of here, but she was so tired and confused that she couldn’t think straight. Her concern at being alone with two strange men seemed to fade into oblivion, however, as everything turned black.

* * * *

“We did the right thing,” Greg assured his friend, as he climbed into bed.

“I know,” Tom replied, poking his head through the doorway that led to their tiny en suite bathroom, where he was cleaning his teeth. “I’m just worried about her. She didn’t sound too happy when we found her, did she?” He rinsed his mouth and returned to the twin-bedded room he shared with his buddy.

“She could have been in shock,” Greg replied. “You heard what the doc said. It was a good thing we found her when we did. She already had the onset of hypothermia. If she’d been out there all night, she’d have…”

“I know,” Tom cut in.

Greg sighed. He knew Tom was as worried as he was about the poor girl, and his friend felt guilty for almost running her over on that dirt track. But it wasn’t his friend’s fault. In fact, it was a good job he had, in a way. Had they driven on past, they might not have noticed the young waif in a dark sweater, soaked to the skin on the lonely stretch of road.

“You probably saved her life, bro,” Greg told him, knowing full well how close to home his remark would be.

Tom snorted. “She only twisted her ankle.”

“You know what I mean.” Greg was sure Tom wouldn’t want to think about it that way, but they both knew it was true. “The doc said she’d be asleep for hours yet. I think we should do the same.”

“I wonder if one of us should stay with her,” Tom murmured as Greg switched off the lamp.

“Nah. It’s like a furnace in there. We wouldn’t last five minutes. And Mrs. H is perfectly happy to look after her. You saw how she was.”

Their landlady had been horrified when they’d arrived carrying the wet bundle, and she’d insisted on putting Savannah into some dry clothes while Greg called the doctor. Mrs. Hodges ran a very nice bed-and-breakfast in Pelican’s Heath and was only too pleased to put the girl up in one of her spare rooms. She’d already gotten her bundled up with thick blankets and Tom had fetched the spare electric heater from the loft to ensure the room was extra-warm.

The doctor had examined the girl, diagnosing early hypothermia and a sprained ankle. There were some nasty bruises on her back, too, and a scar on her shoulder that he was going to ask her about in the morning. The bruising might have been from the fall, but he wasn’t sure. He expected her to regain consciousness in a few hours, and Mrs. Hodges had insisted on staying with her until she did. After strapping her ankle, he had left painkillers and a list of instructions with the old lady before promising to be back the next day.

Although it didn’t feel right, Greg knew the best thing they could do was get some sleep themselves, if at all possible. They’d had a long day at the ranch and would need all their strength.

* * * *

Savannah awoke in a warm room with a candle flickering beside the bed. Shadows danced around the walls, which she noticed were covered in pretty wallpaper with a ditsy print. A stream of light through a gap in the long drapes showed that dawn was on its way.

She frowned at a gray-haired woman who was asleep in the small armchair next to the bed. She didn’t recognize her or the room. The faint scent of lavender relaxed her a little as her head whirled in bewilderment.

A jug of water sat on the neat little nightstand, reminding her how dry her throat was, and she sat up and leaned over to pour herself a drink.

“What are you doing?”

She was startled by the lady’s crisp voice and yanked her hand back from the jug. Her heart pounded with surprise and she pulled the covers closer to her, drawing her knees up. A sharp pain in her right foot made her flinch.

“It’s all right,” the lady said, in a much softer voice, putting a hand out in a placating fashion. “My name is Mrs. Hodges and you’re at my bed-and-breakfast in Pelican’s Heath.”

Savannah gaped at the woman.

“I’m… I’m Savannah Edgerton,” she replied, her throat much croakier than she expected. “Why am I here?”

She racked her brain but could only remember walking through the darkness in driving rain, feeling numb.

“Greg and Tom found you on the back road from Almondine,” Mrs. Hodges explained. “You fell and hurt your ankle.”

Savannah’s mind cast back to the headlights and the puddle, to the two guys who’d insisted on putting her into their truck, out of the rain. It all seemed like a dream, somehow. But what about…? Her stomach roiled as she remembered Daniel throwing her out of their home, the slamming door echoing into the night. The familiar feeling of dread engulfed her and she squeezed her eyes shut to stop tears from escaping.

“Hey, it’s all right. You’re safe here,” Mrs. Hodges assured her, patting her hand over the bedcover. “Here… Let me get you some water.”

Savannah opened her eyes and took a drink. It was cool and slid down her throat, which had now gained a large, miserable lump.

“Thank you.”

“So, are you warm enough, Savannah?”

The question surprised her a little and she snuggled into the coverlet, more for comfort than warmth. “Yes, thank you.”

“You got very cold last night. The doc was worried about hypothermia, so I’ve turned up the temperature for you. It’s a little too warm for me, to be honest, but we had to make sure you were okay. You gave us all quite a fright.”

Savannah raised her eyebrows. “Really? I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”

The old lady chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. We just wanted you to be okay.”

“That’s very kind of you. But I’m fine, honestly.”

“Are you hungry? I thought I’d make myself some oatmeal with warm milk. Would you like some?”

“That would be lovely.” Savannah managed a grateful smile, and Mrs. Hodges rose from her chair.

“You keep nice and cozy. It won’t take long.”

As the old lady left the room, Savannah snuggled down again, her head whirling with possibilities and her memory replaying that awful scene with her husband like a scratched record.

Her ankle hurt like the devil and that worried her. How was she going to get away from Daniel if she couldn’t even walk? And how far had she gotten from him already? She’d heard of Pelican’s Heath, on the other side of Almondine, but how far was that from Upton Crossing? She closed her eyes, wishing she could shut out all her worries with just a blink. It wasn’t going to be that easy, though. It never was, not when Daniel was involved. She must have dozed, because the next thing she knew, she was awoken to a lady’s voice.

“Here we are.”

Mrs. Hodges had come back with a tray, and Savannah opened her eyes and slid up the bed to a sitting position.

“Should you be moving that much already?” A guy with what looked like dark hair and stubble was standing in the doorway.

Savannah jumped, her heart pounding.

“She seems to be all right,” Mrs. Hodges assured him as she placed the tray beside the water on the nightstand.

He sauntered into the room and pulled back the drapes to reveal a bright orange sky. It shot a cozy glow around the room, enabling Savannah to examine her surroundings a little more fully.

The room was a peachy color, and she wasn’t sure whether that was down to the sunrise or the decor. Whichever way, it made for a calming atmosphere. Mrs. Hodges handed her a bowl of oatmeal, which she took with both hands—that, she noticed, were trembling. Her hostess wasn’t quite as elderly as she had first thought, and she guessed her to be in her early sixties. Her gray hair had clearly been set on rollers recently but now looked flattened in places. She had an austere appearance and wore a long nightgown, buttoned right to the neck.

“Here… Let me help you with that.” The guy walked over to the bed and went to take the bowl from her.

“No, it’s fine.” Savannah almost panicked as he rounded on her.

“You’re shaking. And it might be a little hot yet, anyway,” he insisted, leaning even closer to her and prying the food from her hands.

Savannah was about to object when she smelled his delicious, musky cologne and looked up into the deepest chocolatey eyes she had ever seen. He stared down at her, his face growing a little red, his mouth twitching at the corners. She recognized him from the previous night but couldn’t recall his name. His gaze oozed warmth and his tight jaw suggested that he was even more stubborn than she was. Okay, she’d let him have this one, but no way was she prepared to give in to him every time. She’d spent her life giving in to everyone else and look where it had gotten her. It seemed like she was on a narrow precipice, clinging on for dear life. Her only hope was to stay strong, and that was exactly what she intended to do.

The bed dipped as the guy sat down facing her, his warm eyes studying her as he stirred her breakfast.

“I think it’s ready,” he announced after a few moments and leaned forward again, offering her a spoonful.

Savannah wanted to tell him that she wasn’t a baby, that she could manage quite well without his help, but the look on his face changed her mind. She opened her mouth and allowed him to feed her. It was worth it. The oatmeal was delicious and seemed to soothe that lump in her throat.

“I’m Tom, by the way.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Tom-by-the-way. I’m Savannah Edgerton.”

Tom’s eyes shone at her in surprise before he chuckled from deep in his throat. Then he hooted with laughter.

Mrs. Hodges giggled, too.

“I can see we’re going to have our hands full with you, Savannah Edgerton,” he said once he’d recovered himself.

I hope so, she thought, then immediately admonished herself. He was a great-looking guy with a sense of humor and kind eyes, but that didn’t mean anything. She still wasn’t out of the woods yet.

Blushing, she averted her gaze.

“Open wide,” he instructed, forcing her to look his way again. Damn him!

She hadn’t realized just how hungry she was or how much her throat hurt after all the crying she’d done last night. Tom was very patient as he offered her each spoonful and she savored the food as it slid down.

She finished the last mouthful with a mixture of relief and disappointment. She’d enjoyed having him feed her, and the oatmeal really had been delicious. Now that he’d finished his task, however, he had no reason to stay here.

And neither have I.