Looking for a Hero Page 7

  “He should.” Savannah didn’t want to build up Susan’s expectations. She honestly couldn’t predict what Nash would say; she only knew what she thought he should do.

  “He seemed pleased to hear from me,” Susan went on to say.

  “I’m sure he was.” They stood beside each other in front of the mirror. Neither seemed inclined to move. Savannah couldn’t speak for Susan, but for her part, the mirror made the reality of her situation all too clear. Her tailored pants might not reveal her scarred and twisted leg, but she remained constantly aware of it, a not-so-gentle reminder of her deficiency.

  “Let me know what Nash says,” Savannah said impulsively just before Susan left the shop.

  “I will.” Susan’s eyes shone with a childlike enthusiasm as she turned and walked away.

  Savannah sat at her desk and wrote down the pertinent facts about the wedding gown she was ordering for Susan, but as she moved the pen across the paper, her thoughts weren’t on dress measurements. Instead they flew straight to Nash. If nothing else, he’d given her cause to think over her life and face up to a few uncomfortable truths. That wasn’t a bad day’s work for a skeptical divorce attorney. It was unfortunate he’d never realize the impact he’d had on her.

  * * *

  Nash was waiting in the booth at quarter after twelve on Thursday, anxiously glancing at his watch every fifteen seconds, convinced Susan wasn’t going to show, when she strolled into the restaurant. A smile lit her face when she saw him. It was almost as if they’d never disagreed, and she was a kid again coming to her big brother for advice.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” she said, slipping into the vinyl seat across from him. “I’m starved.” She reached for a salted chip, weighing it down with spicy salsa.

  “It’s good to see you,” Nash ventured, taking the first step toward reconciliation. He’d missed Susan and he said so.

  “I’ve missed you, too. It doesn’t feel right for us to fight, does it?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You’re the only real family I have.”

  “I feel the same way. We’ve both made mistakes and we should learn from them.” He didn’t cast blame. There was no point.

  The waitress brought their menus. Nash didn’t recognize the young woman, which made him consider just how long it was since he’d had lunch with Susan. Frowning, he realized she’d been the one to approach him about a reconciliation, when as the older, more mature adult, he should’ve been working toward that end himself.

  “I brought you something,” Susan said, setting her handbag on the table. She rooted through it until she found what she was looking for. Taking the envelope from her purse, she handed it to him.

  Nash accepted the envelope, peeled it open and pulled out a handcrafted wedding invitation, written on antique-white parchment paper in gold letters. He didn’t realize his sister knew calligraphy. Although it was obviously handmade, the effort was competent and appealing to the eye.

  “I wrote it myself,” Susan said eagerly. “Savannah suggested Kurt and I would save money by making our own wedding invitations. It’s much more personal this way, don’t you think?”

  “Very nice.”

  “The gold ink on the parchment paper was Kurt’s idea. Savannah gave me a book on calligraphy and I’ve been practicing every afternoon.”

  He wondered how many more times his sister would find an excuse to drag the wedding coordinator’s name into their conversation. Each time Susan mentioned Savannah it brought up unwelcome memories of their few short times together. Memories Nash would rather forget.

  “Do you like it?” Susan asked eagerly. She seemed to be waiting for something more.

  “You did a beautiful job,” he said.

  “I’m really glad you think so.”

  Susan was grinning under the warmth of his praise.

  The waitress returned and they placed their order, although neither of them had looked at the menu. “We’re certainly creatures of habit, aren’t we?” his sister teased.

  “So,” he said, relaxing in the booth, “how are the wedding plans going?”

  “Very well, thanks to Savannah.” She folded her hands on top of the table, flexing her long fingers against each other, studying him, waiting.

  Nash read over the invitation a second time and saw that it had been personally written to him. So this was the purpose of her phone call, the purpose of this lunch. She was asking him if he’d attend her wedding, despite his feelings about it.

  “I don’t expect you to change your mind about me marrying Kurt,” Susan said anxiously, rushing the words together in her eagerness to have them said. “But it would mean the world to me if you’d attend the ceremony. There won’t be a lot of people there. Just a few friends and Kurt’s immediate family. That’s all we can afford. Savannah’s been wonderful, showing us how to get the most out of our limited budget. Will you come to my wedding, Nash?”

  Nash knew when he was involved in a losing battle. Susan would marry Kurt with or without his approval. His kid sister was determined to do this her way. He’d done his best to talk some sense into her, but to no avail. He’d made the mistake of threatening her, and she’d called his bluff. The past weeks had been miserable for them both.

  “I’ll come.”

  “Oh, Nash, thank you.” Tears brimmed and spilled over her lashes. She grabbed her paper napkin, holding it beneath each eye in turn. “I can’t begin to tell you how much this means to me.”

  “I know.” He felt like crying himself, but for none of the same reasons. He didn’t want to see his sister hurt and that was inevitable once she was married. “I still don’t approve of your marrying so young, but I can’t stop you.”

  “Nash, you keep forgetting, I’m an adult, over twenty-one. You make me sound like a little kid.”

  He sighed expressively. That was the way he saw her, as his kid sister. It was difficult to think of her married, with a family of her own, when it only seemed a few years back that she was in diapers.

  “You’ll love Kurt once you get to know him better,” she said excitedly, wiping the moisture from her cheek. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” she muttered. Her mascara streaked her face in inky rows.

  His hand reached for hers and he squeezed her fingers. “We’ll get through this yet, kid,” he joked.

  * * *

  Nash suspected, in the days that followed, that it was natural to feel good about making his sister so happy. All he’d agreed to do was attend the ceremony. He hadn’t figured out what was going to keep him in his seat when the minister asked anyone who opposed the union to speak now or forever hold their peace. Attending the ceremony itself, regardless of his personal feelings toward marriage, was the least he could do for causing the rift between them.

  The card from Savannah that arrived at his office took him by surprise. He stared at the return address on the envelope for a moment before turning it over and opening it with eager fingers. Her message was straightforward: “Thank you.” Her elegant signature appeared below.

  Nash gazed at the card for several minutes before slapping it down on his desk. The woman was driving him crazy.

  He left the office almost immediately, shocking his assistant, who rushed after him, needing to know what she was supposed to do about his next appointment. Nash suggested she entertain him with some law journals and coffee. He promised to be back in half an hour.

  Luckily he found a parking spot on the street. Climbing out of his car, he walked purposely toward the bridal shop. Savannah was sitting at her desk intent on her task. When she glanced up and saw him, she froze.

  “I got your card,” he said stiffly.

  “I... It made Susan so happy to know you’d attend her wedding. I wanted to thank you,” she said, her eyes following his every move.

  He marched to her desk, not understanding even n
ow what force had driven him to her. “How many guests is she inviting?”

  “I...believe the number’s around sixty.”

  “Change that,” he instructed harshly. “We’re going to be inviting three hundred or more. I’ll have the list to you in the morning.”

  “Susan and Kurt can’t afford—”

  “They won’t be paying for it. I will. I want the best for my sister, understand? We’ll have a sit-down dinner, a dance with a ten-piece orchestra, real flowers and a designer wedding dress. We’ll order invitations because there’ll be too many for Susan to make herself. Have you got that?” He motioned toward her pen, thinking she should write it all down.

  Savannah looked as if she hadn’t heard him. “Does Susan know about all this?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Don’t you think you should clear it with her first?”

  “It might be too soon, because a good deal of this hinges on one thing.”

  Savannah frowned. “What’s that?”

  “If you’ll agree to attend the wedding as my date.”

  Five

  “Your date?” Savannah repeated as she leapt to her feet. No easy task when one leg was as unsteady as hers. She didn’t often forget that, but she did now in her incredulity. “That’s emotional blackmail,” she cried, before slumping back in her chair.

  “You’re right, it is,” Nash agreed, leaning forward and pressing his hands against the edge of her oak desk. His face was scant inches from her own, and his eyes cut straight through her defenses. “It’s what you expect of me, isn’t it?” he demanded. “Since I’m so despicable.”

  “I never said that!”

  “Maybe not, but you thought it.”

  “No, I didn’t!” she snapped, then decided she probably had. She’d been shaken by his kiss, and then he’d apologized as if he’d never meant it to happen. And, perhaps worse, maybe he wished it hadn’t.

  A slow, leisurely smile replaced Nash’s dark scowl. “That’s what I thought,” he said as he raised his hand and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. His fingertips lingered at her face. “I wish I knew what’s happening to us.”

  “Nothing’s happening,” Savannah insisted, but her voice lacked conviction even to her own ears. She was fighting the powerful attraction she felt for him for all she was worth, which at the moment wasn’t much. “You aren’t really going to blackmail me, are you?”

  He gently traced the outline of her face, pausing at her chin and tilting it upward. “Do you agree to attend the wedding with me?”

  “Yes, only—”

  “Then you should know I had no intention of following through with my threat. Susan can have the wedding of her dreams.”

  Savannah stood, awkwardly placing her weight on her injured leg. “I’m sure there are far more suitable dates for you,” she said crisply.

  “I want you.”

  He made this so difficult. “Why me?” she asked. By his own admission, there were any number of other women who’d jump at the chance to date him. Why had he insisted on singling her out? It made no sense.

  Nash frowned as if he wasn’t sure himself, which lent credence to Savannah’s doubts. “I don’t know. As for this wedding, it seemed to me I could be wrong. It doesn’t happen often, but I have been known to make an error in judgment now and again.” He gave her a quick, self-deprecating grin. “Susan’s my only sister—the only family I’ve got. I don’t want there to be any regrets between us. Your card helped, too, and the way I see it, if I’m going to sit through a wedding, I’m not going to suffer alone. I want you there with me.”

  “Then I suggest you ask someone who’d appreciate the invitation,” she said defiantly, straightening her shoulders.

  “I want to be with you,” he insisted softly, his eyes revealing his confusion. “Darned if I know why. You’re stubborn, defensive and argumentative.”

  “One would think you’d rather...oh, wrestle a rattlesnake than go out with me.”

  “One would think,” he agreed, smiling boyishly, “but if that’s the case, why do I find myself listening for the sound of your voice? Why do I look forward to spending time with you?”

  “I...wouldn’t know.” Except that she found herself in the same situation. Nash was never far from her thoughts; she hadn’t been free of him from the moment they’d met.

  His eyes, dark and serious, wandered over her face. Before she could protest, he lowered his head and nuzzled her ear. “Why can’t I get you out of my mind?”

  “I can’t answer that, either.” He was going to kiss her again, in broad daylight, where they could be interrupted by anyone walking into the shop. Yet Savannah couldn’t bring herself to break away, couldn’t offer so much as a token resistance.

  A heartbeat later, his mouth met hers. Despite her own hesitation, she kissed him back. Nash groaned, drawing her more securely into his embrace.

  “Savannah,” he whispered as he broke off the kiss. “I can hardly believe this, but it’s even better than before.”

  Savannah said nothing, although she agreed. She was trembling, and prayed Nash hadn’t noticed, but that was too much to ask. He slid his fingers into her hair and brought her face close to his. “You’re terrified, aren’t you?” he asked, his cheek touching hers.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered. She felt his smile against her flushed skin and realized she hadn’t fooled him any more than she had herself. “I don’t know what I am.”

  “I don’t know, either. Somehow I wonder if I ever will. I don’t suppose you’d make this process a lot easier and consider just having an affair with me?”

  Savannah stiffened, not knowing if he meant what he was saying. “Absolutely not.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said with a lengthy sigh. “It’s going to be the whole nine yards with you, isn’t it?”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” she insisted.

  “Perhaps not.” Pulling away, he checked his watch and seemed surprised at the time. “I’ve got to get back to the office. I’ll give Susan a call this afternoon and the three of us can get together and make the necessary arrangements.”

  Savannah nodded. “We’re going to have to move quickly. Planning a wedding takes time.”

  “I know.”

  She smiled shyly, wanting him to know how pleased she was by his change of heart. “This is very sweet of you, Nash.”

  He gestured weakly with his hands, as if he wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing. “I still think she’s too young to be married. I can’t help thinking she’ll regret this someday.”

  “Marriage doesn’t come with guarantees at any age,” Savannah felt obliged to tell him. “But then, neither does life. Susan and Kurt have an advantage you seem to be overlooking.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They’re in love.”

  “Love.” Nash snickered loudly. “Generally it doesn’t last more than two or three weeks.”

  “Sometimes that’s true, but not this time,” Savannah said. “However, I’ve worked with hundreds of couples over the years and I get a real sense about the people who come to me. I can usually tell if their marriages will last or not.”

  “What about Kurt and Susan?”

  “I believe they’ll have a long, happy life together.”

  Nash rubbed the side of his face, his eyes intense. He obviously didn’t believe that.

  “Their love is strong,” she said, trying to bolster her argument.

  Nash raised his eyebrows. “Spoken like a true romantic.”

  “I’m hoping the skeptic in you will listen.”

  “I’m trying.”

  Savannah could see the truth in that. He was trying, for Susan’s sake and perhaps hers. He’d come a long way from where he was when they’d first met. But he had a lot farther to go.


  * * *

  Nash had no idea weddings could be so demanding, so expensive or so time-consuming. The one advantage of all this commotion and bother was all the hours he was able to spend with Savannah. As the weeks progressed, Nash came to know Savannah Charles, the businesswoman, as well as he did the lovely, talented woman who’d attracted him from the beginning. He had to admit she knew her stuff. He doubted anyone else could have arranged so large and lavish a wedding on such short notice. It was only because she had long-standing relationships with those involved—the florists, photographers, printers, hotel managers and so on—that Nash was able to give Susan an elaborate wedding.

  As the days passed, Nash lost count of how often he asked Savannah out to dinner, a movie, a baseball game. She found a plausible excuse each and every time. A less determined man would have grown discouraged and given up.

  But no more, he mused, looking out his office window. As far as she was concerned, he held the trump card in the palm of his hand. Savannah had consented to attend Susan’s wedding with him, and there was no way he was letting her out of the agreement.

  He sat at his desk thinking about this final meeting scheduled for later that afternoon. He’d been looking forward to it all week. Susan’s wedding was taking place Saturday evening, and Savannah had flat run out of excuses.

  Nash arrived at the shop before his sister. He was grateful for these few moments alone with Savannah.

  “Hello, Nash.” Her face lit up with a ready smile when he walked into the shop. She was more relaxed with him now. She stood behind a silver punch bowl, decorating the perimeter with a strand of silk gardenias.

  Her knack for making something ordinary strikingly beautiful was a rare gift. In some ways she’d done that with his life these past few weeks, giving him something to anticipate when he got out of bed every morning. She’d challenged him, goaded him, irritated and bemused him. It took quite a woman to have such a powerful effect.

  “Susan’s going to be a few minutes late,” Nash told her. “I was hoping she’d changed her mind and decided to call off the whole thing.” He’d hoped nothing of the sort, but enjoyed getting a reaction out of Savannah.