Summer Wedding Bells: Marriage Wanted / Lone Star Lovin'. Debbie Macomber
Читать онлайн книгу.
conversation. “I’ll help with the dishes, Mom,” she said as if suggesting a trip to the mall.
Nash’s mood had improved considerably after meeting Savannah’s parents. Obviously, things weren’t going the way she’d planned. Twice now, during dinner, it was all he could do not to laugh out loud. She’d expected them to paint a rosy picture of their idyllic lives together, one that would convince him of the error of his own views.
The project had backfired in her face. Rarely had he seen anyone look more shocked than when her parents said that divorce was something they’d each contemplated at one point or another in their marriage.
The men cleared the picnic table and the two women shooed them out of the kitchen. Nash was grateful, since he had several questions he wanted to ask Marcus about Savannah.
They wandered back outside. Nash was helping Marcus gather up his fishing gear when Savannah’s father spoke.
“I didn’t mean to pry earlier,” he said casually, carrying his fishing rod and box of flies into the garage. A motor home was parked alongside the building. Although it was an older model, it looked as good as new.
“You don’t need to worry about offending me,” Nash assured him.
“I wasn’t worried about you. Savannah gave me ‘the look’ while we were eating. I don’t know how much experience you have with women, young man, but take my advice. When you see ‘the look,’ shut up. No matter what you’re discussing, if you value your life, don’t say another word.”
Nash chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Savannah’s got the same expression as her mother. If you continue dating her, you’ll recognize it soon enough.” He paused. “You are going to continue seeing my daughter, aren’t you?”
“You wouldn’t object?”
“Heavens, no. If you don’t mind my asking, what do you think of my little girl?”
Nash didn’t mince words. “She’s the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met.”
Marcus nodded and leaned his prize fishing rod against the wall. “She gets that from her mother, too.” He turned around to face Nash, hands on his hips. “Does her limp bother you?” he asked point-blank.
“Yes and no.” Nash wouldn’t insult her father with a halftruth. “It bothers me because she’s so conscious of it herself.”
Marcus’s chest swelled as he exhaled. “That she is.”
“How’d it happen?” Curiosity got the better of him, although he’d prefer to hear the explanation from Savannah.
Her father walked to the back of the garage where a youngster’s mangled bicycle was stored. “It sounds simple to say she was hit by a car. This is what was left of her bike. I’ve kept it all these years as a reminder of how far she’s come.”
“Oh, no…” Nash breathed when he viewed the mangled frame and guessed the full extent of the damage done to the child riding it. “How’d she ever survive?”
“I’m not being facetious when I say sheer nerve. Anyone with less fortitude would have willed death. She was in the hospital for months, and that was only the beginning. The doctors initially told us she’d never walk again, and for the first year we believed it.
“Even now she still has pain. Some days are worse than others. Climate seems to affect it somewhat. And her limp is more pronounced when she’s tired.” Marcus replaced the bicycle and turned back to Nash. “It isn’t every man who recognizes Savannah’s strength. You haven’t asked for my advice, so forgive me for offering it.”
“Please.”
“My daughter’s a special woman, but she’s prickly when it comes to men and relationships. Somehow, she’s got it in her head that no man will ever want her.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“It is true, simply because Savannah believes it is,” Marcus corrected. “It’ll take a rare man to overpower her defenses. I’m not saying you’re that man. I’m not even saying you should try.”
“You seemed to think otherwise earlier. Wasn’t it you who assumed I was going to marry your daughter?”
“I said that to get a rise out of Savannah, and it worked.” Marcus rubbed his jaw, eyes twinkling with delight.
“We’ve only just met.” Nash felt he had to present some explanation, although he wasn’t sure why.
“I know.” He slapped Nash affectionately on the back and together they left the garage. When they returned to the house, the dinner dishes had been washed and put away.
Savannah’s mother had filled several containers with leftovers and packed them in an insulated bag. She gave Savannah detailed instructions on how to warm up the leftover steak and vegetables. Attempting brain surgery sounded simpler. As it happened, Nash caught a glimpse of Marcus from the corner of his eye and nearly burst out laughing. The older man was slowly shaking his head.
“I like the coyote, Mom,” Savannah said, as Nash took the food for her. She ran one hand over the stylized animal. “Are you and Dad going to Arizona this winter?”
Nash felt static electricity hit the airwaves.
“We haven’t decided, but I doubt we will this year,” Joyce answered.
“Why not?” Savannah asked. This was obviously an old argument. “You love it there. More and more of your friends are becoming snowbirds. It doesn’t make sense for you to spend your winters here in the cold and damp when you can be with your friends, soaking up the sunshine.”
“Sweetheart, we’ve got a long time to make that decision,” Marcus reminded her. “It’s barely summer.”
She hugged them both goodbye, then slung her purse over her shoulder, obviously giving up on the argument with her parents.
“What was that all about?” Nash asked once they were in his car.
It was unusual to see Savannah look vulnerable, but she did now. He wasn’t any expert on women. His sister was evidence of that, and so was every other female he’d ever had contact with, for that matter. It looked as though gutsy Savannah was about to burst into tears.
“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice so low it was almost nonexistent. Her head was turned away from him and she was staring out the side window.
“Tell me,” he insisted as he reached the freeway’s on ramp. He increased the car’s speed.
Savannah clasped her hands together. “They won’t leave because of me. They seem to think I need a babysitter, that it’s their duty to watch over me.”
“Are you sure you’re not being overly sensitive?”
“I’m sure. Mom and Dad love to travel, and now that Dad’s retired they should be doing much more of it.”
“They have the motor home.”
“They seldom use it. Day trips, a drive to the ocean once or twice a year, and that’s about it. Dad would love to explore the East Coast in the autumn, but I doubt he ever will.”
“Why not?”
“They’re afraid something will happen to me.”
“It sounds like they’re being overprotective.”
“They are!” Savannah cried. “But I can’t force them to go, and they won’t listen to me.”
He sensed that there was more to this story. “What’s the real reason, Savannah?” He made his words as coaxing as he could, not wanting to pressure her into telling him something she’d later regret.
“They blame themselves for the accident,”