Tides of Passion (9 page)

"You haven't forgotten about the picnic tomorrow, have you, Constance? On Devil Island?"

Zach tore his gaze from Savannah. "I haven't forgotten that blasted picnic. I'm bringing the coleslaw and the beans. The tent and, oh, I'll remember the rest later. I have a list somewhere. Rory and I'll sail over around noon or so. And don't forget your hat. Remember that awful sunburn you got last time?"

"Holy Mother Mary, Papa, I won't forget my blessed hat." He slapped his knee. "What am I thinking? Why don't you put Miss Connor in that skiff and sail her over, too?" Caleb glanced over his shoulder, his expression eager, boyish to the extreme.

How dissimilar he and Zach are, she thought.

Zach shoved off the bars, swiping his index finger across his neck in a cutting motion and frantically shaking his head.

Savannah smiled, holding Zach's gaze. "I would love to go, Mr. Garrett."

"Oh, don't hold to the niceties." He waved his meaty fist at her. "Call me Caleb."

"Then you must call me Savannah."

"Pleased to."

Zach threw himself into the chair behind his desk and dug the cargo book out with a clatter. "For God's sake, Cale, save some of that sugar for your coffee in the morning, why don't you."

Savannah and Caleb turned in unison, looked at each other, and laughed. "What's gotten into you, Constance? How uncharitable you're being toward a visitor to our lovely town. Isn't being a one-man welcome committee part of your job?"

Zach lifted his head, his eyes narrowing. "Miss Connor."
Irish
was on the tip of his tongue. She just knew it. "Of course I'd be delighted to haul you out to Devil Island for the picnic."

Caleb slipped his arm through hers and tugged her toward the door. "If you want to have any fun tomorrow, darling, avoid Old Starchy, that'd be my advice. Now come on, you're late meeting your gaggle over at Christabel's restaurant."

Glancing into Caleb's amused gaze, she noted that he indeed shared the Garrett grays. "How do you know?"

"Ah, heck, in this town everyone knows everything."

She looked over her shoulder as Caleb ushered her through the doorway. Zach sat still as a stone, watching her with a cool expression.

Careful
, the look said.

If she had an ounce of common sense, she would heed the warning instead of leaving his office wondering when she'd get to kiss him again.

* * *

"I'm going to decline Caleb's offer."

Elle glanced up from her books, a pencil clamped between her teeth. "Wgy." She snatched the pencil out. "What?"

"The picnic."

"Oh. I'll lend you a bathing costume. And I'm bringing enough food for an army. Noah and I are returning to South Carolina the day after to prepare for the fall semester, and I feel like you and I haven't spent any time together. Suffering cats, only time talking about this worthless school."

Savannah made a notation beside a student's name and struck through another whose husband had forced her to withdraw from classes. She planned to pay
him
a visit at his place of employment next week. "You love it. Don't try to fool me. Besides, I'm thrilled to have the opportunity; I'm hoping the school will revive my enthusiasm for the cause."

"Vannie, I can't tell you how grateful I am that you came down here to manage
and
teach until I finish my degree in the spring."

Reviewing the small list of students, Savannah sighed. "Just don't expect me to make even an infinitesimal profit." She frowned, noting that some had paid for classes with an exchange of services. A seamstress and a piano teacher. "After books and materials, make that
any
profit."

Elle propped her chin on her palm. "You have access to the account. Use it."

"When did money cease to be an issue?"

Elle giggled, a sound Savannah had only heard her friend make
after
marrying. If giggling was a requirement of being in love, she would chose not, thank you very much. "My darling husband supports my efforts to enrich the lives of the women in this town, Vannie. Of course,
he
called it a loan. I expect I won't have to pay him back."

"Hmmm. I imagine not."

"Savannah, dear? Have you—have you thought any more about our conversation?"

Savannah calculated a row of numbers and noted the total. "Pitiful excuse for a profit last month, Ellie. A dollar and ten cents. No, make that"—she recalculated—"ten cents."

"I don't care about profits." She tapped her pencil on the coffee table. "Vannie, did you hear what I asked you?"

"A profit would allow you to put money back
into
the school. Buy better materials; hire another teacher. I don't mean profit to stuff beneath your mattress."

"
Savannah
." Elle slammed the ledger shut, kicking a puff of dust into her friend's face. "We may not have time to talk in private at the picnic."

"I haven't thought about it." She reopened the ledger. "So there."

"Why not?"

"Constable Garrett's too"—she waved her hand in an absent circle—"
controlling
for my taste."

"Controlling?"

"Arrogant, too."

"Arrogant?"

Savannah sighed, realizing she wouldn't get any work done until they discussed this. Elle, bless her benevolent heart, wanted to wrap everything up in a pretty package before she left town. "Nice idea in theory. Reality? We'd kill each other."
That well may find its way to being true
.

"I don't understand where you've gotten this impression of him from. Zach's not controlling or arrogant. He's wonderful. The kindest man, next to my darling Noah, that I've ever known."

Standing, Savannah kneaded her aching lower back. "Don't act the affronted sister. I've seen a side of him you haven't. Trust me."

"Because you're quarrelling about the oyster factory and, and...."

"The oyster factory is only the beginning. When I secure that summit, I'll start climbing another. I have a quickly fashioned a list of ones that need climbing in this town." A grin slipped into place as she imagined the verbal battles she and Zachariah Garrett were going to engage in throughout the foreseeable future. "I'm going to make his life hell."

Elle flopped back on the worn love seat, releasing an exasperated groan. Savannah glanced around the room to avoid her friend's inquisitive gaze, noting that every stick of furniture in Vinecia Broom's parlor had seen better days twenty years before. Due to the drove of fisherman flooding into town for the summer, Miss Vin's Boarding House had the only vacant room in town.

"I admire your tireless dedication, Vannie, but when are you going to start living for yourself?"

I started last evening
, she was tempted to say. But, telling Elle that Zach had kissed her and that they were considering whatever it was they were considering was like telling his sister how he looked naked. Or his
mother
.

Not an appealing thought.

Elle fiddled with the ragged tassel of a pillow, humming beneath her breath.

Savannah brushed her feet aside, perching on the edge of the love seat. "Spill it. You only hum when you're trying to devise a way to present your case. Remember when we got thrown in jail after the march down Fifth Avenue? You hummed the entire time you waited in line to speak to the judge. The other ladies thought you were close to having apoplexy."

Throwing the pillow at her, Elle lifted herself up onto her elbow. "You're right. I'm sitting here wondering how to bring up a hush-hush subject when I've never worried about discussing anything with you before. But sex"—Elle's cheeks flushed—"isn't something women go around discussing like the weather."

Savannah laughed. She couldn't help it. "Okay, okay, I'm listening. Please get this out of your system so we can have a pleasant day tomorrow." Settling in, she drew her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. "A vulgar position for a vulgar discussion." She smiled. "Do you want to tell me how it's done? I know it's unseemly, but I confess to reading a naughty novel or two in my day. I understand the mechanics. The man puts his mem—"

Elle reared, plastering her hand over Savannah's mouth. "Vannie!"

Savannah pried her hand away. "Oh Ellie, when did you become so priggish? The other night—"

"The other night," she interrupted, sinking back on the loveseat, "I had a glass of wine before you arrived. Then Noah kissed me and... oh, suffering cats, I was ready to give an introductory coitus lecture to every virgin in town!"

Savannah dropped her head to her knees and howled with laughter.

"Oh it's funny all right." She felt Elle roll off the loveseat, her boots tapping against the floorboards as she began to pace. "But you'll get yours. Do it once, and you'll never be able to think of anything else. Every time he walks into the room,
boom
, like a bolt of lightning, there goes your mind right out the door."

A vivid picture raced through Savannah's mind all right: Zach flashing his heart-stopping smile, those long, slim fingers closing around her waist and drawing her forward.

Into a roaring, uncontrollable blaze.

".... if you change yours."

Savannah lifted her head, squinted into the broad band of sunlight flooding in the window "What?"

Elle paused, an expression of sheer frustration crossing her face. "
Juste Ciel
, I'm running out of patience. I'm not going to be here to help you if you decide to seduce Zach. Caroline will have to help. Anyway, she's the natural choice. You'll have to make the first move because he's as close to a virgin as you'll find for a man his age. He's too noble to visit Madam Stella's outside town and his marriage, while loving, wasn't passion—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Savannah cried, using Zach's expression without thinking. "What in heaven's name are you talking about? Caroline who? And Constable Garrett has a child. How can he be a virgin?"

Elle grunted and stalked the length of the parlor. "Close to one, I said. Close. He was very inexperienced when he married Hannah, and he hasn't done a thing, if you grasp my meaning, since she died. In a town this small, indiscretions travel as quickly as the pox. Zach's record is as clean as a baby's bottom fresh out of the bath. Because of that, he's liable to be rusty. That's where Caroline comes in. She knows men better than anyone in town. She can help."

Again, a vision of Zach's hands flashed through her mind, his actions not the least bit rusty. "How do you know about this supposed inexperience? Did he tell you?"

Pausing in the middle of the room, Elle threw a thoughtful glance at the ceiling. "No. Hmmm. Let me see." Chewing her lip, she mumbled, "Honestly, he didn't. I guess Caleb told me. Or Noah. No, no, it wasn't Noah. He lived in Chicago then. And poor Hannah would have fainted before she talked about what went on in her bedroom. Couldn't have been her. Caleb then."

"Basically what you're saying is that this is pure speculation."

"What if it is? Take a look at the man. Does he look wild to you?"

Something must have crossed her face, a look that spoke volumes.

"That look, what is that look?" Elle threw herself to her knees before Savannah. "You've done something. What? Ohhh, you'd better tell me."

Savannah released a tense breath. She shrugged her shoulders, within seconds of giving up, when a soft knock on the parlor door deflated their conversation like a needle prick to a balloon.

"Mrs. Garrett?" a frail voice called from the other side of the door. "Your husband is here to escort you home. Are you decent, my dear?"

Savannah had serious doubts about Vinecia Broom's mental state, she truly did. "Decent?" she whispered. "What does she think we're doing in here?"

"You'd better tell me what that look meant. Pull me aside at the picnic. I mean it." Elle wagged her finger in Savannah's face for emphasis, then called out, "Yes, Miss Vin, we're decent."

"Or one of us is," she added with a heated glare thrown Savannah's way.

"I'm not her husband," Savannah heard Zach explain from the hallway, giving her enough time to scramble for a less scandalous pose, though she couldn't have placed her hand on the Bible to swear Zach didn't get a peek at her bloomers.

He halted in the doorway, his gaze bouncing off her before landing on Elle. "That woman needs a doctor's attention. She thinks I'm Caleb. And your husband. How could she get it so mixed up?" His eyes found Savannah again, a long, measuring study before sliding away. "Asking if you're decent. What did she think you were doing?"

Elle laughed, a nervous titter of a laugh. "We were looking at lists of books for classes and talking. The school. So much about the school. Tireless, tireless work." Her calculating gaze darted between the two of them. "My, yes. My, my, yes."

Savannah wanted to kick her. Elle sounded as unbalanced as Miss Vin.

All at once, Zach frowned, drilling Savannah with a questioning glare.

She shook her head.
No, I didn't tell her
.

He looked doubtful.

While
she
felt choked for air, watching him tap his hat against his thigh, each ripple of muscle highlighted by his close-fitting trousers. His soiled vest hung open, revealing a cotton shirt dampened with sweat and clinging to the ridges and valleys beneath.

What a fine specimen of masculinity he was. Broad shoulders, a trim waist, surely a firm, flat tummy. Long legs and those magnificent fingers. How could anyone look upon a man like Zachariah Garrett and think
rusty
?

Elle leaned down and pressed a rather rough kiss to her cheek, whispering, "If you want to hide this, you'd better stop looking at him like he's a piece of chocolate cake just out of reach."

She nodded, her gaze leaving him for the first time since he'd entered the room. "Yes, I'm excited about the picnic, too. See you tomorrow."

Elle drew back. "Me, too.
Very
excited."

Ducking to avoid receiving more advice, and hoping to reduce the stinging heat from the Constable's gaze, she fiddled with the clasp on her boot, releasing a shaky breath when she heard the parlor door close behind them.