New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak returns to Silver Springs with a moving story about rebuilding your life when you’ve got nothing left to lose

Savanna Gray needs a do-over. Her “perfect” life unraveled when, to her absolute shock, her husband was arrested for attacking three women. With her divorce settled, she takes her two children to Silver Springs to seek refuge between the walls of a farmhouse her late father had planned to renovate. It needs a little TLC, but she’s eager to take control of something.

Gavin Turner understands the struggle of starting over. Abandoned at a gas station when he was five, it wasn’t until he landed at New Horizons Boys Ranch as a teen that he finally found some peace. He steps up when Savanna needs help fixing things—even when those things go beyond the farmhouse.

Despite an escalating attraction to Gavin, Savanna resolves to keep her distance. She trusted her ex, who had a similarly tragic background, and is unwilling to repeat her past mistakes. But it’s hard to resist a man whose heart is as capable as his hands.

Praise for the novels of New York Times bestselling author Brenda Novak

“Once you visit Silver Springs, you’ll never want to leave.”

—Robyn Carr, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“Brenda Novak is always a joy to read.”

—Debbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“Brenda Novak doesn’t just write fabulous stories, she writes keepers.”

—Susan Mallery, #1 New York Times bestselling author

“The author deftly integrates topics such as coming to terms with one’s past and the importance of forgiveness into another beautifully crafted, exceptionally poignant love story.”

—Library Journal on Discovering You

“This Heart of Mine had such beautiful details that it captured my full attention—and had me sniffling and smiling while waiting to board my plane.”

—First for Women

“Another engrossing addition to Novak’s addictive series.”

—Library Journal on This Heart of Mine (starred review)

“With great sensitivity and an exquisite flair for characterization, Novak explores the ideas of redemption, forgiveness, and the healing power of love. This Heart of Mine is a potently emotional, powerfully life-affirming contemporary romance.”

—Booklist (starred review)

Booklist voted This Heart of Mine

one of their Top 10 Romances in 2015.

Right Where We Belong

Brenda Novak

Dear Reader,

Many of my Silver Springs books are based on men who faced extreme difficulty while growing up and were sent to a boys ranch called New Horizons for reformation. Aiyana Turner, who started New Horizons, has dedicated her life to making the ranch’s students whole, and the love she offers has succeeded in many instances.

This story is about Gavin, one of the boys she adopted when he was first sent to her. Gavin’s unique in that he’s been able to overcome his tragic childhood better than the others in the Turner family. Not only is he functional, his unique background has made him sensitive to the needs of those around him. He knows how to help and is willing to do so. That makes him a special hero, which is lucky for the heroine of this story. Savanna Gray is in a world of hurt, and Gavin’s just the man to make life a little easier.

I’ve often been curious about those women who—to their utter shock—find out that their husband is a rapist or a murderer. All the press is dedicated to the crime and the perpetrator. We never get to hear how their families quietly picked up the pieces and moved on—if they were able to do that. This is a romance but also a story about overcoming such a terrible blow.

I spend a lot of time on Facebook interacting with my readers. If you’re on Facebook, too, definitely like my page at www.Facebook.com/brendanovakauthor. Also join my online book group. It consists of 8,000 of the most fabulous bookworms, and we have so many fun things going on (group T-shirts, personalized and autographed bookmarks, monthly “professional reader boxes,” a birthday program, an annual “in person” event, a commemorative pin for anyone who’s read more than fifty Novak novels, and more)! You can find the link to join and learn all about it on my website at www.brendanovak.com.

Here’s hoping you love Gavin and Savanna’s story...

Brenda Novak

To Debra Watson Duncan,

a member of my online book group

and one of my favorite readers. Thanks for

all the love and support you give me, Debra!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

Title Page

Dear Reader

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

1

“You knew! You had to have known!”

The vitriol in those words caused the hair on the back of Savanna Gray’s neck to stand on end. She was just trying to pick up a gallon of milk at the supermarket with her kids, had never dreamed she might be accosted—although since her husband’s arrest, it felt like everyone in town was staring daggers at her. The crimes Gordon committed had shaken the small, insular town of Nephi, Utah, to the core.

“Don’t you dare run off!” someone said behind her. “I know you heard me.”

Savanna froze. She had been about to flee. Her emotions were so raw she could barely make herself leave the house these days. She wished she could hole away with the curtains drawn and never face her neighbors again. But she had two children who were depending on her, and she was all they had left. Those children now looked up at her expectantly, and her son, Branson, who was eight, said, “Mommy, I think that lady’s talking to you.”

Gripping her shopping cart that much tighter, Savanna swung it around. She was determined to do a better job of defending herself against this type of thing than she’d done in the past. But then she recognized Meredith Caine.

A videotape of Meredith—clothes torn, mascara smeared and lip bleeding while her sister, who was with her now, tried to comfort her—had played on the news several times while police searched for the man who’d attacked her as she carried a load of laundry down to the basement of her apartment building. That man was Savanna’s husband. Since his arrest, Savanna’s house had been egged—twice. Someone had driven onto her lawn and peeled out, leaving deep ruts. And someone else had thrown a bottle at her parked car that’d broken all over the driveway. But she’d never been directly confronted by one of Gordon’s victims, only their friends or family or others in the community who were outraged by the assaults.

Facing Meredith wasn’t easy. Savanna wished she could melt into the floor and disappear—do anything to avoid this encounter. Meredith didn’t understand. Savanna had watched her on TV with the same compassion and fear all the other women in the area felt. She’d had no idea she was living with the culprit, sleeping with him—and enabling him to operate without suspicion because of the illusion she helped create that he was a good family man. She’d thought he was a good family man, or she wouldn’t have married him!

“Meredith, don’t do this. Let’s go.” Her sister tried to drag her off, but Meredith remained rooted to the spot, eyes shining with outrage.

“Where were you, huh?” she cried. “How could you have missed that your husband was out stalking women at night?”

Gordon had been a mining equipment field service technician for the last seven years of their nine-year marriage, which meant he drove long distances to reach various mines and worked irregular hours. Savanna had believed he was on the road or repairing equipment, like he said. She’d had no idea he was out prowling around. Despite what Meredith and everyone else seemed to believe—that simply by virtue of being close to him she should’ve been able to spot such a large defect in his character—he’d never done anything to give himself away.

“I thought... I thought he was doing his job,” she said.

“You believed he was working all those hours?” Meredith scoffed.

“I did.” She hadn’t been checking up on him. She’d been trying to manage the kids, the house and her own job working nine to five for a local insurance agent. Besides, Gordon always had a ready excuse for when he came home later than expected, a believable excuse. Another piece of equipment had failed and he’d had to drive back to his last location. His van wouldn’t start, and he’d had to stay over to get a new battery. The weather was too terrible to begin the long trek home.

Were those excuses something a wife should have been leery of?

“Maybe you should’ve paid a little more attention to what he was doing,” Meredith snapped.

Savanna began to tremble. “I wish I had. Look, I’d be happy to talk to you—to explain my side so that maybe you could understand. But please, let’s not do this here, in front of my children.”

Meredith didn’t even glance at Branson and Alia. She was too angry, too eager to inflict some of the pain she’d suffered on Savanna. “Your husband didn’t care about my children when he put his hands around my neck and nearly choked the life out of me. Thanks to him, I haven’t been able to have sex with my own husband since!”

“Meredith!” Her sister gasped, obviously more aware of the children and, likely, the attention this confrontation was drawing.

Alia, Savanna’s six-year-old daughter, pulled on Savanna’s sleeve. “Mommy, why did Daddy choke her?” she whispered loudly, her big blue eyes filling with tears.

“Your father...” Savanna’s throat had tightened until she could scarcely breathe, let alone talk. “He made some poor choices, honey. Like we talked about when he went away, remember?”

“Choices?” Meredith jumped on that immediately. “That man is pure evil. But keep lying—to them and yourself.”

At that point, Meredith’s sister managed to pull her away. They left Savanna standing in front of the cooler that held the milk and cheese, feeling as if she’d been slugged in the stomach.

“Show’s over,” she mumbled to those who’d stopped to watch the drama unfold.

“The kids at school say Daddy grabbed three women and ripped off their clothes,” Branson said, his voice small as his gaze followed Meredith and her sister to the checkout register at the opposite end of the aisle. “That’s true, isn’t it.”

He wasn’t asking. He was just now realizing that Gordon wasn’t innocent as they’d all stubbornly hoped. That her son would have to accept such a terrible truth, especially at his tender age, would’ve broken Savanna’s heart—if it hadn’t already been shattered into a million pieces. “They’ve been talking about your father at school?”

For the most part since Gordon’s arrest, Branson had clammed up when it came to discussing his father, pretended as if nothing had changed. Almost every day, Savanna would ask him how things were going at school, and he’d insist everything was fine.

This proved otherwise, which made her feel even worse.

Head bowed, he scuffed one sneaker against the other. “Yeah.”

“Mommy?” Alia’s lower lip quivered as she gazed up, looking for reassurance.

Savanna knelt to pull them both into her arms. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. You aren’t responsible for what your father did.” She wanted to believe she wasn’t, either, but part of her feared that maybe she had more culpability than she cared to admit. Had she been too gullible, too trusting, as everyone implied?

She must’ve been, or she wouldn’t be in this situation. And standing by Gordon even after the police searched the house had only made public opinion worse. She’d wanted so desperately to trust her husband above others, to protect her family, so that was what she’d done—until the mounting evidence grew to be too much. But that process of utter shock, denial, crushing pain and, finally, numb acceptance wasn’t anything others had witnessed her go through. They merely saw her as being tied to him, as loving and supporting the monster who’d raped three women, and since he was no longer walking around town, she’d become the target of everyone’s resentment.

“Boys aren’t supposed to hurt girls,” a bewildered Branson said.

“You’re absolutely right, honey,” she told him. “You shouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“So...why would Daddy choke that lady?”

Tears burned behind Savanna’s eyes as she hugged them both tighter. “I don’t know.” That was a question she asked herself at least once a day, but she had no answers—for any of the terrible things he’d done. It wasn’t as though she’d ever denied her husband physical intimacy. Other than a few oddities she’d chalked up to personal quirks, she’d thought they had a normal sex life. Since this whole thing had come out, however, she couldn’t help wondering if she could’ve been more alluring or adventurous or exciting to him. Maybe if she’d been satisfying, he wouldn’t have gone searching for something else and none of this would’ve happened...

Straightening, she shoved her cart to the side, left the few incidental groceries they’d gathered and took hold of her children’s hands.

“Where are we going?” Branson asked when she circled around to the far side of the store to avoid Meredith as she led them out.

“Home,” she replied.

“What about the milk?”

“We’ll get it later.” She couldn’t stay in the store another second.

After helping her children get buckled up, she slid behind the wheel of her little Honda, which, fortunately, hadn’t been impounded by the police like the van Gordon had driven to work.

“Are you sad, Mommy?” Alia asked.

“No, honey,” she replied. Sad could never cover it. The nightmare that had started when the police showed up with that search warrant only got worse and worse. She kept telling herself that she’d survive and find solid ground again, be able to stabilize her life, but she’d been far too idealistic. It’d be two more months before the trial even started. Then who knew how long the legal proceedings would take. Gordon and his crimes were all people could talk about—all they would be talking about—for the foreseeable future.

Given the evidence, he’d likely be convicted, but even if he wasn’t, Savanna wouldn’t stay with him. She hoped she’d never have to lay eyes on him again. She no longer felt safe in his presence, no longer felt as if her children would be safe. She’d already filed for divorce, but she knew that wouldn’t remove him from her life for good. He was the father of her children. The repercussions of his actions would ripple through the next decade or two, maybe longer.

Once they got home, she fed Branson and Alia and helped with homework, but her mind wasn’t fully engaged. She went through the motions like an automaton, trying to persevere until they were in bed and she could call her younger brother.

At nine-thirty, she tucked them in, poured herself a glass of wine and carried it into her bedroom, where she shut and locked the door and dialed Reese’s cell.

“Hey, sis. I’m out with a friend,” he said as soon as he answered. “Can you make it quick?”

She blinked against the tears she’d been battling for several hours. Quick? Gordon’s emergence as a suspect, the gathering of evidence, the search of the house, the arrest...it seemed like the longest, most invasive process she’d ever endured—as well as one of the most painful. “I can’t stay here, Reese.”

“What do you mean?” he responded. “In that house? Or in Nephi?”

“In Nephi. In Utah. I have to get out of here, leave the whole area. I never want to see any of these people again.”

“But we talked about this. You said it would be better to keep the kids in the same school rather than rip them away from their friends and teachers. They’ve already lost their father.”

“I felt that way at the time, but I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think it’s good for them to stay here, to try to bear up beneath all the negative energy. And I know it’s not good for me. We need a fresh start.”

There was a slight pause. Then he said, “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“I told you. I can’t handle the anger and the blame. It feels as if almost every person I meet hates me. And I doubt that’ll go away anytime soon.”

“What do you mean? Why would they hate you? You’re not the one who raped those women. They don’t think you helped Gordon in any way...”

“No one has launched that accusation, thank God. Right now, they’re only blaming me for missing whatever signs I should’ve seen.” She stared glumly into her glass. “And maybe they have the right. I can’t say anymore what I should or shouldn’t have done. Would some other woman have noticed that he was too secretive? Would she have called his work to verify his hours and location? Would she have searched his stuff and found that ‘rape kit’ hidden in the shed out back?”

“We’ve been through this. There was nothing to make you doubt him. You even had a regular sex life—or that was what you told me.”

“We did, for the most part. But how would I know? I was twenty when I married him, and he’s the only man I’ve ever been with. Who am I to say what’s normal between two people? I can only judge from my own experience. Maybe you should tell me.”

“I’ve never been married. So far, my longest relationship has lasted two months.”

Still, he had more sexual experience than she did, but when he chuckled about that, she wondered, as she often did, why he hadn’t ever made a commitment to anyone.

She figured he would eventually—he was only twenty-four. Regardless, that was a question best left for another time. Tonight, she was too bogged down by thoughts of Gordon and what he’d done. “They found blood from one of the women in our van. Did I tell you that? He had his family riding around in a vehicle that still had the blood of a woman he’d attacked.”

“You told me. That was when we both decided we could no longer maintain our faith in him, remember?”

She raked her fingers through her hair as she studied herself in the mirror above the dresser. She no longer even looked like the woman she used to be. She hadn’t taken the time to get her hair trimmed—hadn’t wanted to visit the salon she normally frequented while everyone there was whispering about her—so it had grown out of the bob she’d been wearing before her world collapsed. All she could do was pull the thick, auburn mass into a ponytail or let it go wild and curly. She’d always liked the gray blue of her eyes, but they looked empty now—hollow, shell-shocked. Who was this person staring back at her with a face so pale she could almost trace the blue veins underneath? “Maybe I should’ve noticed the blood.”

“You have children. They scrape their knees and elbows now and then, don’t they? And Gordon fixed mining equipment, which meant he had to have injured himself occasionally. Why would you assume—from a few drops of blood—that he was out harming women?”

She turned away from the mirror, couldn’t bear to look at herself any longer. “I don’t know. It’s just that so many people think I should’ve spotted something. I’m beginning to doubt myself. The morning after he raped Meredith, he had scratches on his arm. I asked how he got hurt. He said he backed into a ditch he didn’t see at a mine site and got scraped up by blackberry bushes while trying to get a two-by-four under his rear tire. Maybe that seems like a lame excuse now that the police have pointed out the pattern of those scratches. It did look like four fingernails had gouged his arm, but...I honestly thought nothing of it at the time.”

“It’s only been a month since they locked Gordon up, Savanna. Surely things will get easier.”

She detected a hint of impatience. He’d heard so much about her problems of late. As sympathetic and supportive as he’d tried to be, she’d been falling apart for too long, ever since she’d learned that her husband was the primary suspect in the string of violent sexual assaults that’d sent the good people of Nephi into a panic. Understandably, Reese was eager to get back to his regular life. He was her younger brother, after all, wasn’t used to having to support her so much. She’d been the one to carry them both through the loss of their elder brother and both parents a little over a year ago.

He’d had enough sorrow for one fourteen-month period. She felt like an idiot for not realizing before now that she’d exhausted his reserve of compassion, that this was the point where she’d need to soldier on alone.

“I’ll let you go,” she said abruptly.

After a brief silence, he said, “I’ll call you later, okay?”

He probably felt guilty for revealing that hint of impatience. But he was with someone. He’d said that. Anyway, if he was capable of moving on after losing, all at once, three members of their immediate family and was beginning to feel good again, she wouldn’t continue to drag him down. “There’s no need,” she said. “I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be moving as soon as I can arrange it.”

“That takes time. You’ve got to sell the house, don’t you?”

“No.”

“You’re going to walk away from it?”

“Why not? There’s no equity. Gordon took out a second mortgage almost as soon as he inherited it from his grandmother. With the market the way it is...we’ve been upside down on this place for two years or more.”

“What about your credit?”

“The house is in his name. He never put me on the loan or the title. If his mother wants to save this place, she can move in and make the payments. I’ll leave all of his stuff behind—” she’d already boxed them up and stacked them in the garage, anyway “—and put the keys under the mat.”

“But where will you go? Back to Long Beach?”

“No.” They’d sold the beautiful five-bedroom, four-bath home their parents had owned in Los Angeles, where they’d been raised, and split the proceeds. Reese had paid off his student loans and was using what he had left for graduate school. He was planning to be a doctor. She’d spent a portion of her inheritance on Gordon’s defense—which she now considered to be a waste of money.

“Then where?” he asked.

The only place she could go. “The farmhouse in Silver Springs.” It was all she had left.

“Savanna, no. That place needs too much work. Dad was barely getting started with it when he...when they had the boating accident. How will you live there?”

“I’ll renovate it myself.” And why not? They had to do something with it. And neither one of them had wanted to put it up for sale. That home hadn’t been just another real estate purchase to their father, although he’d done a lot with real estate over the course of his life. This was the ranch his grandparents had once owned. He’d had fond memories of the place, was so excited to be able to bring it back into the family where he’d said it belonged.

“With what money?” Reese asked.

“The money I have left from the LA house.”

“That won’t carry you very far, not when you’ll be using it for the repairs as well as your monthly overhead.”

“Without a mortgage or rent, I should be able to manage a basic renovation and survive for a year, if I’m careful.”

“And what will you do once the renovation is complete?”

“I don’t know, Reese. Worst case, I’ll have to sell and move on, figure out what comes next for me. Best case, I’ll be able to get a loan against the property, give you your share and rebuild my life in Silver Springs.”

He cursed.

“What? You don’t like the idea?”

“I don’t like what you’re having to deal with. It’s not fair. First, we lose Mom, Dad and Rand—and then, as if that wasn’t tragic enough, Gordon starts raping women? How does all of that even happen to one person?”

She didn’t answer his question. Her mind had shot off on a tangent. “Maybe that was why I missed it.”

“Missed what?” he said, sounding confused.

“What Gordon was doing. I was so torn up I wasn’t paying as much attention to him as I should have been. I was barely holding myself together, trying to get through it.”

“But he only raped one woman last summer. The other two he attacked six months ago—almost back-to-back. Why the big gap if it was your bereavement over Mom, Dad and Rand that set him off?”

“There might not be a gap. The police believe he victimized other women. They’re looking at unsolved cases that might be similar in the cities and towns near the mines where he worked.”

“Shit...”

“You’re missing the point. I’m saying my grief—the fact that I was wrapped up in my own problems—is what might’ve started him down that road.”

“I understand, but that’s hardly an excuse. My God, you were mourning the loss of more than half your family. He should’ve been trying to support you for a change.”

She took a sip of wine. Gordon had never been particularly supportive, not in an emotional sense. He’d worked and contributed his paycheck to the upkeep of the family, same as she did, but he wasn’t all that engaged. He’d been gone too much and tired and remote when he was home.

Still, she’d thought they had a decent marriage, one that she could make work. Her parents had been together for thirty-two years when they were killed. She’d wanted that kind of life—one devoted to her family—and had been determined to stick it out for the long haul, even if Gordon wasn’t perfect. “You’re right. I don’t know what started it. I just keep guessing.”

“There’s something wrong with him. That’s what started it.”

She leaned against the headboard and covered her feet with a blanket. “I wish I could go back to using Dad’s last name.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Because then I’ll be a Pearce and my kids will be Grays.”

“So change theirs, too.”

“I will eventually. But not now. I can’t deal with that on top of everything else.”

“No one in California will tie you to the rapist in Nephi, Utah, anyway.”

“Thank God I won’t have everyone staring at me when I go to a gas station or a store.” She heard a woman talking to him in the background. “I’ll let you go. Have a nice night.”

“Savanna?”

She pulled the phone back to her ear. “Yeah?”

“Call me when you’re ready to move. I’ll come help you pack and drive the van.”

He was in graduate school at the University of Oregon in Eugene, which wasn’t close. And it was the third week in April, so he had finals coming up. She didn’t plan to wait until he could help. “There’s no need, little brother. I got it.”

Taking a deep breath, she hung up, finished her wine and somehow resisted the urge to pour another glass. She had to be careful, couldn’t allow herself to fall into a bottle. Gordon’s mother had been an abusive alcoholic—it was why his father had left them so long ago. Savanna would never forget some of the upsetting stories he’d told her—of coming home to find his mother passed out on the couch, soaked in her own urine; of his mother nearly dying of smoke inhalation after falling asleep with a lit cigarette; of his mother screaming and cursing and throwing objects at him when he was a small boy. Maybe Dorothy was the reason he’d turned out so bad. The detective investigating his case had said that rape was more about power and control—and venting anger—than sexual gratification. But it wasn’t as if Gordon’s victims had resembled his mother in any way. And he’d grown close to Dorothy in recent years. They seemed to adore each other...

There were no easy answers, she decided, and got up to start packing. Part of her felt she should stay until the end of the school year. Although it went longer than Reese’s semester in college, it was still only six weeks away. But now that she’d made the decision to move, she couldn’t wait even that long.

2

Two months ago, Gavin Turner had given up his studio apartment over the thrift store in Silver Springs, California, an artsy town of five thousand not far from Santa Barbara, and purchased a home—a converted bunkhouse from the 1920s that sat on a whole acre about ten minutes outside of town. After living in such a small space, surrounded by buildings, he almost didn’t know what to do with all the extra room. His friends jokingly referred to his remote location as the “boondocks,” but he enjoyed being out in the open and even closer to the Topatopa Mountains, where he often went hiking or mountain biking. He’d always been drawn to the outdoors. The beauty and solitude brought him peace. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to navigate his unusual and difficult childhood if not for his love of nature. And music, of course. He strummed on his guitar almost every night, had started singing at various bars in the area and along Highway 101, which ran along California’s coast. He hadn’t landed any notable gigs yet, just performed in various coastal or farming communities, mostly up north. He wanted to break into the music scene, but the competition was so fierce he felt he’d have to move to Nashville, where there was so much happening in the music industry these days, to get where he was hoping to go, and he couldn’t commit to that quite yet. Not while his mother—or, rather, the woman he called his mother—needed him. For now, he enjoyed singing at a different hole-in-the-wall each week. The money he earned augmented what he made working at New Horizons Boys Ranch, the boarding school for troubled boys his adoptive mother had started over twenty years ago and where he’d gone to high school himself.

Tonight the weather was warm and the cicadas were loud as he sat out on the porch in a simple T-shirt and worn jeans, writing a new song. He’d just sat back to take a break and was wondering whether he should get a puppy—he was leaning toward yes, since he hadn’t been able to have a pet in town—when a large moving van came rumbling down his road.

He rarely had visitors, but no one else lived on this road, so he set his guitar to the side and stood.

The truck didn’t stop, however. The woman driving—he was fairly certain it was a woman, but he was judging on size alone, since it was difficult to see in the dark—barely glanced his way. Focused on what was right in front of her, she barreled forward as if she’d had a hard journey and would finish it, this uneven surface be damned.

Who was that? And where was she going? The only other house nearby was the ranch house to which his own converted bunkhouse had once belonged. And it had sat empty for the past three years or longer. According to what Gavin had been told, it wasn’t even for sale—not that he could’ve afforded the bigger property, anyway.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched the truck bounce and sway past him. Although the road was supposed to be privately maintained, it hadn’t been maintained at all, not in a number of years, which made the potholes deep and difficult to miss—and she seemed to be hitting most of them.

Did this mean he had a new neighbor? If so, how would she get through to her house? The bridge over the creek that ran between the two properties had washed out in the last heavy rain.

She didn’t seem to be aware of that, though. At least, she wasn’t slowing down...

He took off running to warn her before she could wind up in the water. Banging on the truck as he came alongside, he attempted to get her attention before she could crush him against one of the trees that gave him so little room as it was. “Whoa! Hey! Stop!”

She seemed reluctant to let him waylay her. Either that, or she was afraid of what encountering a strange man out here in the middle of nowhere could mean. Because even after she hit the brakes, she barely cracked the window so that they could hear each other speak. “Something wrong?”

He edged around a thorny bush in order to get close enough to see her. About his age, with a riot of thick, copper-colored hair and light-colored eyes, she studied him with more caution than he’d ever seen before. Two children—a boy and a younger girl—leaned forward to peer around what he could only assume was their mother.

“You can’t go down that way,” he explained, gesturing at the road ahead. “The bridge is washed out.”

“What bridge?” she asked.

He blinked in surprise. “The bridge that goes over the creek.”

She scowled. “You mean before you reach the house?”

He swatted a mosquito. It’d been a wet year, and now that spring had arrived, the vicious little monsters were coming out in force. That was the one downside to living in the country. “Haven’t you ever been here before?”

“No.”

He wiped some blood from a scratch on his forearm. That darn bush had gouged him before he could avoid it. “You’ve got all your belongings with you, right? You are moving in.”

She finished rolling down the window. “Yes, but I’ve only ever seen the pictures my father sent.”

“So he’s the one who owns the house.”

“Not anymore. He passed away in a boating accident a little over a year ago. The property belongs to me and my younger brother now.”

“I see. I’m sorry for your loss.”

She frowned. “Not as sorry as I am.”

Gavin’s gaze shifted to the children. “Where you all from?”

“I was born and raised in LA—Long Beach. But I’ve been living in Utah since I left for college. That’s where both my children were born.”

“In Nephi,” the boy piped up, seemingly proud that he could add this bit of information.

“Nephi, huh?” Gavin said. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s small but not too far from the Salt Lake Valley, if you’re familiar with that,” the woman said. “About two hours south.”

Gavin whistled. “Sounds like a long drive from there to here, especially in a moving van.”

She blew a strand of curly hair out of her face. “You have no idea. We left at four this morning and have been on the road ever since. According to MapQuest, it was only ten hours, but it took nearly twice as long traveling with two children in a vehicle that can’t go faster than fifty-five.” She peered through the front windshield again. “So...how do I get in? Do I go around? Is there another road or—”

“’Fraid not,” he said. “This is it.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You mean I can’t reach the house?”

“Not tonight. Someone will have to repair the bridge before you can cross, especially driving this beast.” He tapped the side of the heavy truck.

She looked crestfallen. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but...no.” She was obviously disappointed, but there was no way he could change reality.

She picked up her phone, then tossed it back in the seat and cursed under her breath.

Her little girl’s eyes widened. “Did you say a swear word, Mommy?”

“I said ‘shoot,’” she grumbled.

“No, you didn’t,” her boy insisted.

Gavin tried not to smile at the exchange. “What’s wrong?”

“The battery on my phone is dead. I haven’t been able to charge it. The cigarette lighter in this truck doesn’t work. Neither does the air-conditioning, probably why they gave me such a good deal.”

They’d been without air-conditioning on a day like this? That had to be another reason they appeared slightly frayed at the edges. “If you need to make a call, you can use mine.” He pulled his cell out of his pocket and put in the passcode before offering it to her. “Is someone planning to meet you and help you unload?”

She waved off his phone. “No, it’s only me and the kids. I wasn’t planning to make a call. I was going to look for a motel. But maybe you know of one I should try.”

“The Mission Inn is nice and reasonable.”

“Is it far? How do I get there?”

“Wait! We’re not staying?” her son broke in. “You said we were home. That we’d be able to get out!”

“I have to go potty,” her daughter added in a whine.

“I wasn’t expecting to run into a washed-out bridge, okay? Let me... Let me figure out where we can spend the night. It shouldn’t take much longer,” she told them, sounding exhausted.

Gavin wiped the scratch on his arm again. “Look, why don’t you come in for a few minutes? I’ve got some soda—or juice if you prefer—for the kids. They can go to the bathroom and have a drink while we use my laptop to book you a room.”

Her son opened the door as if he’d only been waiting for the invitation, but she grabbed hold of his arm. “Stay right where you are.”

With a groan, he obeyed. “Why? He said we could have a soda.”

She turned back to Gavin. “Thanks for the offer. I appreciate it. But we’ll just... We’ll be on our way.”

How? he wondered. Turning that truck around wouldn’t be easy, not on this narrow road. She couldn’t use his driveway, not with such a tall van. The electrical wires were strung too low. She’d have to back up all the way to where she made the turn to begin with. “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because I don’t mind.” He lifted his hands to show that he was harmless. “I realize we’re strangers at the moment, but I am your new neighbor, so we’ll be getting acquainted soon.”

When she hesitated, he got the impression she wanted to trust him but didn’t dare.

“Backing down this road will be tricky,” he added. “Especially in the dark. I mean...maybe you drive semis for a living and are especially good at that sort of thing, but—”

“No,” she broke in with enough exasperation to reveal what he’d already suspected: it’d been a challenge just to get them all to California without an incident. “I had to sell my car to avoid making this any more difficult by trying to tow it behind me.”

“Then why risk wrecking into a fence or a ditch? I’d wait for morning, unless you’re determined to go tonight. I’ll get a flashlight and try to guide you out, if that’s the case.”

She rested her forehead on the large steering wheel.

“I really want a soda, Mommy,” her little girl said. “And I have to go potty!”

“Come on,” Gavin coaxed. “Once we find you a room, I’ll drive you to town. You can leave the van here until morning, when you can get someone out to help you cross.”

“Do you know of someone who could do that?” she asked.

He gazed toward the creek in question even though he couldn’t see it for the dark and the trees. “I’m pretty good at temporary fixes. I’m sure, with the proper supplies, I could create something that will work.” Tomorrow would be Saturday, after all, so he didn’t have to go to New Horizons. He didn’t have set plans until evening, when he had a gig in Santa Barbara.

“How much will it cost?”

“Nothing for my labor. I don’t mind helping out. So...whatever the lumber and other supplies will be. You’ll need to get an actual building contractor for the permanent structure, though.”

She sighed.

He dipped his head to get her to look at him again. “I’m Gavin Turner, by the way.”

“I’m Savanna. This is Branson and Alia.”

She didn’t offer a last name, but he didn’t press her. “Happy to meet you. I’ve lived here for fifteen years and have never hurt a soul. You have no reason to be afraid of me.” He didn’t mention what he’d done before that. Some things were better left unsaid.

“I’m not sure you’d tell me if you were an ax murderer, but...okay,” she said, and her kids scrambled out before she could change her mind.

* * *

Savanna watched Gavin carefully. He wasn’t overly large or imposing. Maybe five-eleven to six feet tall, he had broad shoulders and big hands but a thin frame and wore his dark hair in a man bun with a closely trimmed beard and mustache. To her, he looked like an artist or a musician—or maybe just a vegetarian (not that she’d known many of those in Nephi). Gordon had hated men who looked like Gavin, had made fun of their “hippie lifestyle,” especially if they had tattoos, and Gavin had plenty of those. Ink covered one whole arm—a big saxophone, a guitar and musical notes as well as the detailed face of some singer.

Savanna knew if the man she’d married could be dangerous, anyone could. But Gavin’s face was so delicately sculpted, and he had such kind eyes—big and brown with a thick fringe of lashes—that it was difficult to be afraid of him. Even if he hadn’t given her the impression that he was a pacifist, his gentle manner would’ve put her at ease. He’d been teasing the kids since they came in. The way he interacted with them reminded her of her father, which made her think she was being paranoid to be so cautious of him.

Evil people weren’t funny, were they?

Not in her experience. Gordon had never had much of a sense of humor...

“Sprite—or Pepsi?” Gavin turned his attention to her after he finally let Alia wrangle her soda out of his grasp.

Savanna shook her head. “Neither, thanks.” Her stomach had been churning all day. It was anxiety and not true illness, but she didn’t see any point in exacerbating the problem by drinking loads of sugar and carbon dioxide.

“What about a beer?”

“No.”

“Some water, then?”

“That’d be nice.”

He poured a glass from a chilled pitcher in the fridge. When he brought it over, she couldn’t help thinking—once again—about how quickly Gordon would’ve judged her new neighbor based solely on his looks. And yet it was all-American, wrestling-champion Gordon with the stocky build, lantern jaw, green eyes and short blond hair who’d been a danger to society. She’d seen the crime scene photos—the way he’d battered his victims before and during each sexual assault. The detective had shown them to her, trying to upset her and shake her faith so that she’d talk more freely about him.

Gavin popped open a beer and took a long pull. “So...what brings you to California?”

When he glanced at her left hand, she realized he was checking for a wedding ring. Because she’d shown up out of the blue, and hadn’t given him much of an explanation, he was trying to figure out who she was and what she was doing in Silver Springs alone with two children, trying to move into an old, dilapidated house. “I’m no longer married,” she said, even though it wasn’t the answer to the question he’d voiced.

He didn’t act surprised that she’d correctly interpreted his thoughts. “Is that new?”

“Yes.” The divorce wasn’t final, but she didn’t care to go into the details. She didn’t consider herself married anymore; that was the salient part. Gordon had refused to sign the papers, was trying to convince her that he still loved her and was wrongly accused, but her attorney insisted that once he was convicted, especially of such heinous crimes, he wouldn’t be able to waylay the process any longer. The law would then be entirely on her side. “I’m starting over.”

“Do you plan on living next door for any length of time?”

“At least a year. I’m a half owner, remember? I figure I might as well take advantage of that. Why pay rent?”

He looked pained when he said, “I see the logic. But how much did your father tell you about the condition of the place?”

“I know it’s not in good shape. Fixer-uppers rarely are.”

“I doubt this one’s even livable.”

“That’s okay. I’m here to make it livable.”

“Then you have some experience with renovating?”

She took a drink of water. “No, but there’s a tutorial for everything on YouTube these days.”

When he laughed, she couldn’t help smiling. She liked that he immediately knew she was joking. Gordon would’ve freaked out and set her straight on how difficult restoring a house would be. He’d always taken everything so literally. “Maybe there’s a video on how to back a twenty-foot trailer down a narrow country road in the dark,” he said, and opened his laptop. “Should we check?”

“Why not? Might save you the trip into town,” she replied, but she could tell he wasn’t serious, either.

“I don’t mind dropping you off.” He called up his browser and typed in “The Mission Inn, Silver Springs, CA.”

“What’d you do for a living in Utah?” he asked while a list of links began to appear.

“I was an administrative assistant in an insurance office.” She considered adding what Gordon had done to contribute—no way could they have survived on her income alone—but bit her tongue. The less she said about him, the better.

“Oh, an administrative assistant. I should’ve guessed,” he said.

“Guessed?” she echoed.

“Office work. Contracting. It’s the same thing.”

It was her turn to laugh. “What about you? What do you do for a living?” She gestured toward the guitar he’d carried in when he let them into his house. “Or does this give it away?”

“I write and sing, gig now and then. But I also have a day job.”

“Doing...”

After he clicked on the website for the Mission Inn, he keyed the phone number into his cell. “Maintenance and repair at New Horizons Boys Ranch.”

“You don’t mean ‘ranch’ as in ‘ranch,’ right? You’re talking about one of those boarding schools for teenage boys who act out?”

“Yeah. We take in troubled kids. Quite a few have been through some traumatic—” he seemed about to say “shit” but substituted as he glanced at her children “—stuff. Others are just angry. Or narcissistic. Or both.”

“They have boys ranches in Utah, too. My husband—my ex-husband now—was shipped off to one for a year.” She lowered her voice so that Branson and Alia, who were trading sips of their sodas, wouldn’t be likely to catch what she said. “I should’ve taken that as the warning sign it was and stayed away from him.”

Her neighbor’s smile disappeared. “I graduated from New Horizons.”

She felt her face begin to burn. Why had she said that? She’d decided not to talk about Gordon, not to drag all that negativity to this new location with her. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean... Well, everyone’s different. No two stories are the same.”

“It’s okay,” he said, but from that moment on he was all business. He helped her get a room for a hundred dollars per night and delivered her, Branson and Alia to town.

“Thanks for your help,” she said as they got out of his truck.

“No problem.”

She wished there was something she could say to cover for her earlier gaffe. She’d been tired and frustrated that she couldn’t get through to the house after making such a long drive, or she would’ve been more careful with her words. But he’d indicated he worked at New Horizons. She’d assumed he’d understand how conflicted, even dangerous, some of the boys who went to those places could be. She’d never expected him to say he’d been on the other side, as well.

She thought about offering him another apology but figured it was better to let it go. “’Night.”

3

As long as the day had been, and as exhausted as she was from driving so far while trying to keep her kids happy and entertained, Savanna lay awake. Alia slept beside her and Branson slept alone in the other double, since he’d recently started wetting the bed. Fortunately, what Gavin had told her turned out to be true. The Mission Inn was a decent motel, as good or better than any in Nephi. So she wasn’t uncomfortable, just filled with restless anxiety. Relocating had been such a big decision. She’d taken her children away from everything and everyone they’d known so far. Now that she was back in California, she could only hope she’d made the right decision—for all of them.

The fact that she hadn’t even known she’d have to cross a bridge to get to the house where they’d be living told her there would be other surprises. Would she be able to handle them?

She hoped so, but Gordon’s betrayal had left her shaken. She’d never felt this unsure of the future. He’d essentially burned down her whole life.

One day at a time. She had to live in the moment.

But this moment would lead to the next moment, which meant the sun would soon rise, and she wasn’t prepared for the day. Her new neighbor hadn’t made any specific plans with her when he dropped her off, hadn’t given her a set time when he’d pick her up. He’d simply said, “See you tomorrow.” Had she offended him when she made that boys ranch comment? Would Gavin really come back? Or would she have to find someone else to help her cross the creek so that she could move in?

She needed to get some sleep or she wouldn’t be able to cope. But the glowing numerals on the alarm clock between the beds mocked her reluctance to see the minutes pass. She turned the clock away and accidentally knocked her phone to the floor.

As she checked to make sure it was still charging—she didn’t want to go another day without the conveniences it provided—she saw that her mother-in-law had sent her another hateful text, which must’ve come in while her phone was dead.

How can you fire Gordon’s attorneys? Do you know what kind of defense he’ll get from a public defender? NO defense! Are you TRYING to send him to prison for the rest of his life?

Supposedly, Dorothy was no longer drinking. But even if that were true, Gordon’s mother had cleaned up her act so late in life that she had no net worth. She eked out a living by working at a large discount store, but, as usual, she had nothing to give her son. She expected Savanna to use what she had left from her parents’ estate to provide Gordon with the best attorneys possible.

Frowning, Savanna scrolled up and read several of the other texts her mother-in-law had sent over the past several weeks. She hadn’t answered any of them, nor had she picked up Dorothy’s calls. She knew Gordon’s mother was trying to use guilt to manipulate her. But it never ceased to amaze Savanna that Dorothy could think she was the one to let Gordon down. He’d let her down, in the worst possible way, but only after his own mother had screwed up his childhood.

You’ve filed for divorce? Gordon hasn’t even been in jail a week. I should beat your no-good ass. If this is all the faith you have in him, he’s better off without you.

Savanna wasn’t sure he was better off without her, but she was convinced of the opposite.

Why won’t you pick up? How is avoiding me going to help the situation? You have my grandkids, for God’s sake! I have a right to see them.

Except she’d never shown any interest in Branson and Alia before. She’d brought them a bag of candy occasionally when she’d come for dinner, but that had been the extent of her involvement in their lives. Savanna would never forget how upset Branson had been when his grandmother told him she’d attend his school play and then stood them up, calling two days later with some lame excuse that didn’t even make sense.

How can you pretend to be a loving wife when you abandon Gordon so easily? He’s always worshipped the ground you walk on, been a good husband and father, and you do this?

Was he being a good husband and father when he was out stalking women—attacking and raping them? How could Dorothy make such a ludicrous statement?

But that was Dorothy. She never troubled herself much with reality.

He would never have abandoned you in your hour of need. He would’ve believed in you and fought for you until the end—and you should be doing the same for him.

The police had found Theresa Spinnaker’s blood in their van! Was Dorothy completely delusional?

You coward! You won’t be able to avoid me forever.

Dorothy had driven down from Salt Lake after that message, but Savanna had refused to let her in. When she’d started cursing and kicking the door, Savanna had called the police, who’d escorted Dorothy off the property. That was the night Savanna had received the worst text of all.

Gordon’s going to kill you when he gets out.

Savanna always shivered when she read those words. The only thing that made them bearable was the fact that she didn’t think Dorothy meant them literally.

Forcing herself to put down her phone, she slid Alia over—Savanna could barely move, was already feeling claustrophobic simply by circumstance—and tried, once again, to go to sleep.

* * *

The motel had a free breakfast, so Savanna was able to feed her kids the following morning, but she still wasn’t sure Gavin would show up. At ten, she hadn’t heard from him. He hadn’t even asked for her cell number last night.

Was she on her own?

She could only assume she was. She was trying to figure out the best way to hire some help and get back to her new place—would a Craigslist ad work in such a small town?—when the phone in her room rang.

She thought it might be the motel manager. She’d asked for a late checkout in case she needed the extra time, but the caller turned out to be Gavin.

“You had breakfast yet?” he asked.

“We have,” she replied.

“Then are you ready to go?”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “We are.”

“Great. I bought the lumber for the bridge and brushed up on a few how-to videos. We should be all set.”

So that was why he hadn’t come sooner. He’d been shopping. She could tell he was joking about the YouTube stuff. But she was so happy to hear from him she had no comeback, just sincere gratitude. “Wow. That’s nice of you. I was afraid... I was afraid maybe you’d changed your mind about being so neighborly.”

“I wouldn’t leave you stranded. I would’ve called earlier, but since I had to go to Santa Barbara to get the wood, I thought I’d let you sleep.”

“Kids at this age don’t sleep late.” Most of them didn’t wet the bed, either, but poor Branson had had another accident last night. Fortunately, she’d put a plastic tablecloth under the sheets so she wouldn’t have to worry that he might ruin the mattress. But she felt bad for him. She knew he was embarrassed and hated that her son was struggling so much as a result of his life being turned upside down. “Still, thank you. I appreciate the thought.”

“No problem. I’m outside, so whenever you’re ready.”

She disconnected, called the front desk to let them know they could have the room and gathered the few items she’d brought with them, which she shoved into the school backpack she’d borrowed from Branson. “Gavin’s here. Let’s go,” she told the kids, and ushered them out the first-floor motel room to find their new neighbor sitting in the lot with the engine idling.

“I didn’t know your truck was blue!” Branson said as he got in the back seat. “It looked black last night.”

“Of course it’s blue,” Gavin said. “Is there any better color?”

Branson beamed as he scooted over to make room for his sister. “No.”

“Do you have some more soda?” Alia asked.

He smiled at her in the review mirror. “At the house I do.”

Savanna eyed the lumber that filled the bed of Gavin’s truck while putting the backpack between her kids. “That’s a lot of wood,” she said as she climbed in front.

“A big part of the old bridge is lying around on the property, but it’s so rotted there’s really nothing we can salvage from it, so...I think we’re going to need to start from scratch.”

“Of course,” she muttered with a sigh. Nothing could be easy, although now that she could see the town in full daylight, she was encouraged. Nephi looked sad and depressed by comparison. In Silver Springs she could easily find evidence of the wealth and affluence that was so prevalent in parts of LA. Tasteful murals covered several of the buildings downtown. There were no empty or run-down businesses—and something else was different. It took her a moment to realize what, but after they drove a few blocks, she said, “There are no chains here!”

“Chains?” Gavin echoed.

“You know, businesses. McDonald’s. Best Western.”

“Oh, right. Chain stores aren’t allowed. The town promotes small business.”

“I’ve never heard of a town taking such a stand.”

He grinned. “Welcome to California.”

The cost of living would be greater here if she couldn’t run to a box store every time she needed groceries or school supplies for the kids, but she thought it was a sacrifice worth making. She was looking forward to coming back and exploring, to walking into a store without fear of being recognized and reviled...

She studied a secondhand store that appeared to be particularly well run. Maybe she could find a few things for the house there to help her get by... “This place has a strong Southwest flavor,” she said.

“There’s a lot of Spanish Revival architecture,” Gavin agreed.

“Like the motel where we stayed—with its white walls, red tile roof and bell tower.”

“Is that a positive thing or a negative thing, in your mind?” he asked.

“I like it. It’s clean and well maintained—not nearly as run-down as parts of Nephi.”

“Look! There’re ducks in that park!” Branson exclaimed, pointing out the window.

Savanna craned her neck to see. “I’ll have to take you there sometime.”

“Me, too!” Alia chimed in.

“Of course. I’ll take you both.” She gestured to the right. “What’s the name of the mountains that surround us?” The valley was so narrow, barely four or five miles across.

“The Topatopa Mountains. They’re part of the Los Padres National Forest.”

“Does it snow here, Mommy?” Alia asked.

Savanna looked to Gavin. She hadn’t even thought to check.

“Not in town. The temperature’s pretty mild year-round, but you will see some white caps on the highest mountain peaks in winter.”

The buildings gave way to citrus orchards and small farms as they drove down the valley. After about ten minutes, he turned onto the narrow road leading to where she and her children would soon live—the road she’d had such difficulty finding in the dark last night without the GPS on her phone.

“Now I’ll get to lay eyes on this creek I’ve been hearing about,” she said.

Gavin had backed her moving van into a wide spot in the road near the turnoff so they’d be able to get past it. As soon as he parked, they all piled out. The kids began to run and play while she remained at Gavin’s side.

The creek, only about twenty feet from where she’d stopped last night, was much wider than Savanna had anticipated. “Wow. Lucky for me you were sitting outside when I arrived.”

“You didn’t seem to be slowing down,” he admitted.

“I would’ve barreled right into this.” The current wasn’t strong enough to carry off a truck. Nor was the water high enough that they would’ve risked drowning. But they would’ve gotten stuck in the mud. And she had no idea how she would’ve pulled the U-Haul out, especially late on a Friday evening, in the country. No doubt the right kind of tow—and any damage she caused the van—would’ve cost a small fortune.

“I guess you owe me,” he teased.

She froze in surprise. Owed him what? Was he flirting with her?

Her eyes flew to his face. She didn’t want to be unfair, didn’t want him to go to a lot of work thinking she might be willing to get involved with him. “I’ll pay you,” she said.

He gave her a funny look. “For saving you from driving into the creek?”

“For your time today.” She checked her kids to make sure they weren’t wandering too far. They were getting muddy, but they were having such a great time searching for tadpoles she didn’t call them back. They deserved some carefree fun after the upset of the past few months. “I don’t expect anyone to work for free.”

He shrugged. “I don’t mind helping out a neighbor.”

She tried to let the subject go but couldn’t stop herself from speaking up again. “Would you be helping me this much if I were a man?”

He responded without hesitation. “A man with two kids, who was recently divorced and moving in next door? Of course.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he hadn’t been flirting with her. Maybe he was what he seemed to be—a really nice neighbor. It’d been so long since she’d been single and in a situation where a man might hit on her, she could have misinterpreted his behavior. “Okay, but...I need to let you know that I’ve been through something extremely difficult, and...and I’m still not over it. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. So don’t do anything for me because...because you might be...you know, looking for female companionship. I’m not an option.”

He looked surprised. “Whoa. Where did that come from?”

Branson and Alia had taken off their shoes and socks and were wading ankle-deep in the shallow, slow-moving creek. They weren’t paying attention to the conversation, but she lowered her voice all the same. “I’m sorry. I’d hate for you to think I’m being rude, but I’d feel worse if you were ever to believe that I tried to take advantage of your kindness. I’d rather be clear on where I stand from the beginning. You need to charge me—for the wood, which I’ll reimburse you for before you leave today, and the labor. I’ll pay you a fair price for everything, even the ride last night.”

He went to his truck and got a pair of leather gloves from under the seat. “I appreciate your honesty, but I’m not going to let you pay me for the ride, and I have a few hours I can contribute to helping so that you can move in today. You won’t owe me anything beyond what I spent this morning.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked slightly confused as he pulled on those gloves. “Will you answer one question for me?”

“What is it?”

“Does this immediate stiff-arm have anything to do with my boys ranch history? Because we’ve barely met, and yet you’re already telling me you don’t want to get involved. I admit I find you attractive. Really attractive—”

“I have two kids,” she broke in, as if that should’ve been a deal breaker.

“I’ve met them,” he said with a wink. “I like kids. They don’t have to be mine. But I feel like you might be lumping me into the same category as your ex-husband simply because we both ran into a spot of trouble in our teenage years.”

He was far more up front than anyone she’d ever encountered. Taken aback by his frank honesty, she struggled to find an appropriate response and wound up focusing on what concerned her most. That “spot of trouble” he’d mentioned might not be a small thing. Gordon’s behavioral difficulties from the same period—his truancy, lying, stealing and general belligerence—had revealed that something was wrong, and it was never fixed, or he would not have done what he’d done later in life. He’d merely learned how to hide his worst self so that he could meld into society.

Still, she didn’t know Gavin, didn’t know if his behavior had been worse or better than Gordon’s when they were young, and owed him the benefit of the doubt. Not every boy who attended a boys ranch turned out to be a violent criminal. “I appreciate the compliment. I do. After what I’ve been through, any kind word feels good. And I’m sorry about what I said regarding the boys ranch last night. Your past has nothing to do with anything.”

“Then you’re just not into me.”

He said that with a twinkle in his eye, as if he was man enough to take no, if that was her answer. This had to be the most emotionally brave individual she’d ever met. She couldn’t help admiring his self-confidence. Gordon would never have risked his ego that way. “It’s not you specifically. I’m done with men. All men. I wish I’d never gotten involved with the one I married.”

He peered at her closer. “Certainly you’ve had other males in your life, besides your ex, who haven’t been that bad.”

“If you count my father and brothers. But that’s about the limit of my experience. I never had a steady boyfriend before Gordon. I met him my first day of college and got pregnant eighteen months later, at which point we both dropped out of school to get married.”

“And the marriage lasted...”

“Until two months ago.” She hadn’t officially filed at that time, but that was when she’d first begun to doubt Gordon’s innocence, which was the point of the real rift.

“Which makes you...what? Twenty-nine?”

“In two weeks.” She assumed they were similar in age. From his appearance, he couldn’t be much older.

“That’s young to be so jaded.”

“I can’t help it.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“For...”

“Whatever he did.”

Apparently her kids had given up trying to find tadpoles. They were now scrounging around for rocks they could try to skip across the water. “So am I, especially for Branson and Alia.”

He moved to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. “I understand that you’ve been burned recently, but swearing off men completely seems a bit extreme. Surely you’ll recover at some point.”

“No. Never,” she insisted.

He started to slide out the two-by-twelves. “Never’s a long time. Won’t you get lonely?”

“Probably.”

“What will you do then?”

She drew a deep breath as she considered the question. It wasn’t realistic to think she wouldn’t crave some kind of companionship in the future. “Maybe I’ll become a lesbian.”

A grin tugged at his lips. She could tell he didn’t know whether to take her seriously. “Is that a joke?”

“No,” she said. Although this wasn’t an option she’d ever considered before, it did seem to solve the problem. She’d never heard of a woman raping anyone. Sure, that had probably happened somewhere in the world at one time or another, but the odds of encountering such an anomaly had to be small.

“You can’t judge all men by the actions of one,” he said.

He’d made that point before, but she was too traumatized to be so fair. “No, but I can take precautions.”

“Like changing your sexuality.”

“Yes.”

“That’s a pretty big deal. Please tell me you’re bi at least.”

“Not yet. But I’m hoping I’ll be able to change. I’m willing to try. I mean, I’ve already got kids, so I don’t need a man in order to have a family. And settling down with a sweet, harmless woman who will be happy to help me cook and clean and raise children—what could be better than that?”

As he carried two of the boards to a staging area near the moorings of the old bridge, she tried not to admire him in those jeans. He had one heck of a nice butt. She had to admit that much, despite her plans for a man-less future.

“I see your point,” he said when he returned. “A sweet, harmless woman who cooks and cleans has her merits. But not all women are harmless.”

She moved to get a two-by-twelve herself. But he was the one with the gloves. He waved her back, out of the way. “I got this.”

“The woman I find will be so passive and supportive she’ll barely say a word,” she told him. “I might even include that in my dating profile. ‘Seeking mild-mannered lesbian who loves children and books and abhors any kind of violence.’”

He laughed outright.

“What?”

“Why don’t you just advertise for a roommate? That might turn out to be a better fit.”

“No. Roommates come and go. I think I’ll stick with a same-sex relationship, so there’s a commitment involved, but add a line to my dating profile that says something like, ‘low libido a must,’ since I’m not sure I can please a woman in that way—or sleep with her in the first place.”

He laughed even harder. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.”

“Not until this moment.” She tapped her temple with one finger. “But it’s becoming clear.”

He returned to the truck for another load. “Won’t you miss having a man in your bed?”

At this moment, it didn’t seem like it. She shuddered whenever she thought of Gordon’s hands on her body. Knowing she’d been intimate with someone like that, someone so cruel, angry, selfish and deceitful, turned her stomach. And, in retrospect, some of the things he did—the way he liked to put his hands around her neck when they were making love—freaked her out. Had he been thinking about strangling her when he was moaning above her? Had such dark fantasies increased his pleasure?

Probably, given the type of person he’d turned out to be.

On the other hand, it was a man’s body that excited her. She’d never been aroused by any woman...

When she didn’t answer, Gavin looked up at her. “You’re thinking about it...”

“I’m thinking about passion.”

“Passion,” he repeated.

“Yes. The kind they portray in the movies. If that were real, men would be much harder to give up. But...”

“Wait—you’ve never felt that kind of desire? Not even when your relationship with your ex was new?”

“Maybe,” she admitted. But those feelings had faded fast. Toward the end, sex was more of a chore, something she simply tried to get through. Maybe that was why she felt she might be partially responsible for what Gordon did. She’d tried to hide her apathy, to summon some enthusiasm, but the possibility existed that she hadn’t done a very good job of faking it. “Right now that seems so long ago. Even if it was that way once, it didn’t last.”

He whistled. “Your husband must’ve sucked in bed.”

Gordon had sucked at being a good husband in other ways—maybe that was why she’d lost interest in the first place. It seemed as though she’d always been trying to ignore some frustration or inadequacy when he hit her up for sex. She’d never turned him down, but maybe acquiescence wasn’t enough. “I wouldn’t know about that. I don’t have anything to compare him against.”

“Then you’re giving up too soon.”

“Better safe than sorry,” she grumbled.

“Even if you’re missing out?”

She checked her kids again. Still happily occupied. “Lesbians have dildos and stuff. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

He lifted another load of lumber. “Okay, but if you get tired of pretending, feel free to give me a call. I like it soft and gentle, and I won’t get in the way of your search for a lesbian partner.”

Savanna’s jaw dropped, but when he winked at her and carried the last couple of two-by-twelves to his staging area, she was pretty sure he was just trying to shock her.

4

Gavin had no idea what Savanna had been through. He thought she might open up, talk about it as the day wore on, but she didn’t. She hadn’t even given him her last name. The only thing he knew was that whatever trauma she’d suffered had left a deep scar. He’d never had a woman tell him she was hoping to change her sexuality so that she’d never have to deal, on an intimate basis, with another man. He was fairly certain she hadn’t been entirely serious, but still. Even the kids didn’t mention their father, and yet Savanna had admitted the missing member of their family had been part of it until quite recently.

What had gone so terribly wrong?

He wondered the whole time he was building the makeshift bridge. Fortunately, since the structure wasn’t intended to be permanent, it didn’t take him long.

He laid the two-by-twelves across the water, created a support on each side so they wouldn’t slip and lashed them together to keep them stable. Then he drove the van over to the house to be sure it was safe, and stayed to help unload the furniture and boxes.

Together with the kids, he and Savanna made several trips before he managed to convince her to let him finish up so that she could go in and start cleaning. He’d recently moved. He knew how difficult it was to get organized—and he’d had only himself to worry about.

Branson and Alia helped if he found something small they could carry. When he put the last box on the worn and ripped carpet of the living room, he stood back to survey the scene. “So, what do you think of the house?”

Savanna had started in the kitchen—was cleaning out the drawers and cupboards. Too bad the place wasn’t in better shape. She had to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the task ahead.

“I’ll make it work,” she said, but her smile seemed forced. They’d discovered earlier that someone had broken in and stolen a few things, so she didn’t even have a stove.

“You can use my kitchen until you get yours up and running,” he told her. “I’m not home during the week, so it’s not as if you’ll be in my way.”

She’d been kneeling on the floor. She stood, wearing rubber gloves and holding a wet rag, and used her forearm to move a piece of hair out of her face. “I appreciate that. I’m sure things will come together here quicker than it seems, though.”

He had to admire her stubborn optimism, but the land was worth more than the house. Part of him wondered if she wouldn’t be smarter to tear it down and start over. “On the bridge...”

“What about it?” She’d already given him cash for the wood.

“What I built will only get you through the next few days, so don’t wait too long before replacing it. I know a guy—James Glenn—who’d be ideal for that sort of thing.” He found a pencil and a business card on the counter, left by the Realtor who’d sold the property, and jotted down James’s number using the contact record in his phone. “He’ll give you a fair price, and he works fast.”

“I’ll give him a call.”

“Great. I’m going to take off.”

She caught him before he could leave. “Why not stay a little longer? I was thinking of ordering pizza. I’m sure you’ve got to be hungry, too. You’ve been helping me for hours.”

“Stay!” Branson cried.

Gavin mussed his hair. “I can’t. But thanks.”

“I feel like I have to do something for you,” Savanna said. “You’ve done so much for me.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “We’ve already discussed this.”

“We’re talking a few slices of pizza...”

“Another time. I’ve got plans tonight.”

“Oh.” She seemed embarrassed to have pushed it. “No problem.”

He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed he couldn’t stay, but he sort of wanted her to be. As he’d told her at the creek, he found her attractive. And it wasn’t just her looks. There was something about her he liked, and he’d felt it from the first moment he’d chased her down before she could run into the creek.

He went back and added his phone number under James Glenn’s on that card. “Call me if you need anything. I can make a run to the dump, when you’re ready. You’ll need some way to dispose of all the trash and other junk that’s accumulated.”

“That’s really nice of you.”

“I’m a nice guy,” he said with a grin.

When she met his eyes, she blushed and glanced away.

“When do you have to return the van?” he asked.

“I was hoping to take it back today, but I have to drop it off in LA, where I also need to buy a car, and it’s getting too late for that. So...I’ll pay for another day and take it tomorrow.”

“That’s a good idea. What kind of car do you plan to get?”

Not a van. Anything except a van. “An SUV would be ideal—if I can only find one I can afford.”

“Good luck with that.”

She walked him to the door. “Thanks again. I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.”

“We all need a hand now and then.”

He had to grab a sandwich, take a shower, pack up his gear and make the twenty-minute drive to the bar where he’d be playing, but when he got home, he made the sandwich and went to his computer instead. If what Savanna and her children had been through was traumatic enough to make her believe she’d never want to be with another man, he thought it might be serious enough to be reported in the news, especially because she’d made an odd comment when describing her ideal lesbian partner—something about wanting a woman who abhors violence.

A search for Nephi, Utah, brought up a link with some general information on the town. Essentially an all-white population (ninety-seven percent). Mostly married (over sixty percent). First settled by Mormons. Only 3,600 people, so even smaller than Silver Springs. Not a lot of industry. Everything of any real interest seemed to be located in the Provo/Orem area about an hour north, or even farther in Salt Lake City.

He clicked off that page and typed in “Nephi, UT, crime,” and learned that the overall crime rate was one percent higher than the national average. From what he could tell, that was mostly due to drug busts and burglaries. Nothing too serious. At least, that was what he assumed until he stumbled across an article in the Times-News that reported a couple of rapes.

Two women had been attacked in Nephi—one who was walking to a waitressing job in the early morning, and one who was carrying her laundry down to the basement of her apartment building late at night a week later. Both victims claimed their attacker had worn a mask and wielded a knife, that he’d cursed and screamed the whole time not to look at him. And, like many rapists, he’d threatened to come back and kill them if they went to the police.

The investigation had been exhaustive, but the police kept coming up empty-handed—until DNA testing confirmed that the crimes were linked to a third incident in Springville, near Provo. Then the detectives knew the rapist was working in a much bigger area and cast a wider net.

Gavin searched for other articles on the same crimes and found one that indicated a woman in Provo had reported some guy lurking about her Mormon church one night after choir practice. He left without approaching her, but he spooked her enough that she jotted down his license plate number. That was what had focused the investigation on one particular suspect.

Yet another article indicated that someone had finally been arrested for those assaults: Gordon Gray, a thirty-year-old white male who was a husband and father.

There it was. The perpetrator had a wife and children. That fit. The suspect had operated in and around Nephi. That fit, too. And Savanna had mentioned that her ex-husband’s name was Gordon, which wasn’t all that common. Everything fit. She’d been married to a man who’d assaulted three women. The victims were complete strangers to Gordon Gray and to each other, which was what had made it so difficult to catch him, but police had plenty of evidence and were now working to see if they could link Gray to more unsolved cases.

Gavin rocked back. Holy shit. No wonder Savanna wanted to become a lesbian. She’d been living with—and had children with—a man who was a violent criminal. Had Gordon mistreated her, too?

Gavin wanted to read more about the situation from which his new neighbor had apparently fled, but if he didn’t get showered, he’d be late for No Good Pete’s. Then he might not be able to get any gigs.

“A rapist,” he murmured, still shocked as he pulled off his shirt. How had the beautiful woman moving in next door gotten involved with a guy like that? And had she realized, at some point, that there was something wrong with him—or had it all come as a surprise?

* * *

Reese called after the kids were in bed. “Hey, you never let me know when you got in last night.”

Savanna had forgotten to notify him. She’d had so much on her mind. That she’d have to keep the moving van another day before she could get to LA to return it and buy a car, which would stretch her budget when she was trying to cut every corner. That, after what Gavin had said about the condition of the house, it might be worse than she was expecting, which had turned out to be the case. That her neighbor might not return to help her cross the creek after what she’d said about students of a boys ranch. That her mother-in-law’s threats might turn into more than a turn of phrase if Gordon didn’t get convicted. And then, of course, underneath it all, the big question—the question of whether she was doing the right thing in the first place.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s been crazy.”

“In what way? You’re there, aren’t you? And the kids are okay?”

She was working from the floor again. She’d cleaned out the cupboards and unpacked her silverware and dishes. Now she was organizing and putting away her pots and pans. “Yeah, we’re here and everyone’s fine.”

“Well? Was it what you were expecting?”

“Not entirely.” She was so tired she could hardly move, but she intended to finish the kitchen so she could go to bed feeling she’d made a strong start. “Silver Springs is amazing, though. I can’t believe it hasn’t been voted one of America’s top places to live. Or...maybe it has. I never check those things.”

“What makes it so great?”

“It’s nestled in this pretty valley only an hour or so from the sea. It’s clean and stylish and feels far more friendly than Nephi—although I’ve only met two people, so as far as friendly goes I don’t really know,” she added with a laugh.

“You used to like Nephi.”

She hadn’t hated it in the beginning. That was where Gordon’s grandmother had lived and, disappointed in her only daughter, she’d left Gordon the equity in her house when she passed. Given that his job required him to be in central Utah, and living in Nephi saved him significant time on the road, they’d stayed instead of trying to sell so they could remain in Midvale, a suburb of Salt Lake, where they’d lived for the first part of their marriage. “Not at the end.”

“I hope this place will treat you better.”

“I have an exceptionally nice neighbor, so that’s a start.” She remembered Gavin saying he found her attractive and couldn’t help smiling. Hearing those words come from such a handsome and charismatic man felt good. But that was only because it’d been so long since she’d been seen as anything other than a tired wife and mother, she told herself. She was flattered, not truly excited, even though she had to admit that she found him attractive, too.

“I was under the impression from the way Dad talked and the pictures he sent that the ranch house was out in the country,” Reese said.

It required some effort to draw her mind back to the conversation. For a change, she was preoccupied by something other than Gordon’s crimes. That was a relief in and of itself. “It is. I’m pretty sure Gavin’s place used to be part of the original ranch and was recently split off and converted from something else—a barn or tackle house. It’s not big, but it’s cool. Fits him in that way.”

“Meaning Gavin’s cool?”

Reese pounced on her last sentence right away, making her wish she hadn’t included that information. But Gavin was cool—even a little exotic from her perspective. Given the homogenous sector of people she’d circulated among in Utah for so long, he stood out. Not only were the people of Nephi mostly white, they were mostly the same religion and political persuasion, which was different from the diversity she’d known growing up in California. She’d never lived in Silver Springs before, and yet she felt a strong sense of having come home. “Yeah.”

“How old is your neighbor?”

“Didn’t ask, but I would guess he’s about my age.”

“I take it he’s single...”

“I got that impression.” She hoped Gavin wasn’t the kind of douchebag who would say what he did if he had a girlfriend...

Her brother took a few seconds to consider her answer before responding. “Is he attractive?”

She wished she’d never mentioned him. She hadn’t meant to send her brother into full alert. “In his own way. I mean...he’s not the athletic type—like you and Gordon. Not what I go for. He’s more...the rock star type.”

“That’s interesting.”

She felt her face heat as if she’d given something away, which was a ridiculous reaction. What was there to give away? Gavin had told her he found her attractive—really attractive (she couldn’t help recalling the emphasis he’d placed on that word), but she hadn’t encouraged him. She was just embarrassed because the conversation she’d had with Gavin at the creek hadn’t been a normal conversation for two people who were nearly strangers.

“Not as interesting as you seem to think,” she said in an attempt to back away from the subject. “I’m grateful he’s been so nice. That’s all. If he hadn’t helped me get over the creek, I could still be at the motel where I had to stay last night. That’s the other person I met. The motel manager. He was middle-aged and balding.” Not nearly as appealing as Gavin, but then she’d never met another man who’d interested her quite so quickly.

“You had to cross a creek?” Reese said.

“Not a very big one, but you can’t drive a moving van through it. The bridge was gone, washed out in the last big rain.”

“That must not have come as a pleasant surprise.”

“Could’ve been worse.” She shuddered to think how the night would’ve ended had Gavin not scraped himself up in order to save her from getting stuck.

“What about the house? Will you be able to stay there?”

She shifted so that she could get off her knees and sit cross-legged as she surveyed the kitchen. She’d been trying not to let the condition of the place get her down. It didn’t matter what it looked like now, she’d put everything in order, make it comfortable. But since her father had sent those pictures, several of the windows had been broken, the back door had been kicked in, someone had shot a rifle or some other kind of gun at several of the lighting fixtures, which had also put holes in the walls, and the stove and dishwasher had been stolen. Replacing those items on top of renovating the house would eat up even more of her budget. As far as appliances went, she’d brought only her washer and dryer from Nephi, since her refrigerator had needed to be replaced, anyway. Thank goodness Gavin had had a dolly with which to unload them. The entire drive, she’d been stressed about how she was going to get the heavier items into the house. She’d only been able to get them on the truck in the first place because she’d recruited help from her neighbor in Nephi. “I have my work cut out for me. No way to sugarcoat that. And you should see the mess that’s been left behind. There’re cigarette butts and beer cans everywhere, not to mention evidence of animals.”

“That won’t take too long to clean up. Do you have heat?”

“No.”

“You didn’t call ahead and get the utilities turned on?”

“I did. There’s something wrong with the heater. Fortunately, it’s warm enough this time of year—in this area—that we’ll be okay during the day, and when it chills off at night—” like it was now “—I can pile blankets on the kids.”

“You need to get that fixed.”

“I’ll have someone take a look at it.” She hoped it was only a blown fuse. Replacing the whole unit would be expensive.

“Is the town big enough to have the goods and services you’ll need?”

“They’ll have some things. For others, I’ll have to go to Santa Barbara or LA. Anyway, getting the heater checked is way down my list. First, I have to buy a refrigerator and a stove, so I can cook.”

“You don’t have a stove?”

“Someone stole it.”

“What about a microwave?”

“There was one, but that’s gone, too.”

“Damn it, Savanna. You should’ve waited until I could come with you.”

“I had to leave right away,” she said. “I was getting so defensive in Nephi I couldn’t function.”

He sighed into the phone. “I know, but now you’re even farther from me than you were before—”

“No, it’s almost the exact same distance. I checked.” She’d been nervous about putting more miles between them.

“Still, it sounds like you’re in a big mess, and I’ve got finals and can’t do anything to help.”

“We’ll be okay.” At least she wouldn’t have to worry about running into one of her husband’s victims, or having her ex-mother-in-law show up to start another argument. Here she was on her own, but she was no different than anyone else, would have a chance to heal in an emotionally safe environment.

Reese lowered his voice. “I know Branson, especially, is struggling with everything that’s happened. Do you think he’ll be able to adjust?”

She thought of the bed-wetting they’d been dealing with since Gordon was arrested. “I do.”

“Maybe you should get him some therapy.”

“I should get us all therapy, but there’s no money for that.”

“Have you heard from Gordon?”

Like his mother, her ex had tried calling her many times, as many times as he could use the phone in jail. But after the first few days, when her faith had completely given way and she’d broken down and screamed her rage and anger at him as he begged her to ignore the proof she’d been shown—which she couldn’t—she’d stopped accepting his calls, too. That was when he’d started writing her long, rambling letters pledging his love and pleading his innocence. The last one had insisted that he’d found God, that he was attending daily Bible study and was praying that she’d be able to see that the police had the wrong man.

She hadn’t bothered to write back. She felt too conflicted when she communicated with him, hadn’t even told him—or his mother—that she was taking the kids and moving to California. She’d simply packed up and left as soon as possible. She planned to get a new phone number, too—to cut every tie that still attached her to Gordon. But all of that took time and attention to detail, and right now she was buried in far more basic tasks. “Not in the last couple of days,” she said.

“What about Dorothy?”

“Of course. She texted me again yesterday.”

“What’d she want this time?”

“More of the same. She’s desperate to get me to pay for his attorneys.”

“How can she still believe he’s innocent?”

“I’m not sure she cares if he’s innocent. His victims don’t matter to her. She wants to save her baby.”

“After all the shit she put him through in the past, it’s shocking she’s so defensive now.”

Savanna saw a spider crawling across the floor and jumped up. She hated spiders. “Ironic, isn’t it? And yet she claims I’m ruining his life. She got to him long before I did.”

“What about his father? Do you think he’ll step in and try to help?”

With a shudder of revulsion, she swept the spider into her dustpan and hurried to take it outside. “No. Gordon’s never gotten along with Ken. Once he left Dorothy, he never looked back.” What happened to Gordon when he was a child wasn’t fair. Both of his parents had let him down—and now he’d passed on the favor. “I feel bad for him when I think of his past, but that doesn’t change the present. I have to do what I can to save my sanity so that I can support our kids.”

“Branson and Alia are great. They’re going to make it through this and so will you.”

That spider had unsettled her, made her more cognizant of the dirt and all she had to accomplish to make this place into a home. “I hope that’s true, given we don’t have any choice.”

“Will you return to Utah for the trial?”

“No. I don’t want to go back for anything.”

“I thought there was some question about whether you’d testify.”

“Detective Sullivan once asked me if I’d be willing to take the stand and talk about how secretive Gordon was—and how much he was gone. Sullivan wanted me to confirm that Gordon wasn’t at home when the attacks took place, but they have my sworn statement, which lays it all out, and the forensic evidence is far more damning than anything I’d have to say. I suppose they could contact me if they feel the trial isn’t going well and ask me to come, but right now it doesn’t appear they need me.”

“Will you be able to do it if they ask?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I’d rather not be involved.”

“I don’t blame you.”

After that, they talked about having him come visit once the semester ended so he could help fix a few things. But he also worked as a bartender and couldn’t jeopardize his job, wasn’t sure how many days he’d be able to get off.

“I’ll see what I can do and let you know,” he promised before ending the call.

Once they’d disconnected, Savanna finished unpacking the kitchen. Then she walked down to the end of the drive to see if her neighbor had come home. Why she was curious enough to make the effort when she was so tired, she couldn’t say. She just couldn’t quit thinking about him. She supposed she was romanticizing him a little bit, since it was much more fun to think about this new person in her life than all the dark things she’d been thinking about for the past couple of months. Occasionally, she even caught herself wondering what it would be like to kiss a man who had facial hair. Gordon had hated beards and mustaches—even goatees—so he’d never worn one.

Would she feel the hair on Gavin’s face or only his full, soft-looking lips? And what would a man who had long hair and tattoos be like in bed?

I like it soft and gentle, and I won’t get in the way of your search for a lesbian partner.

That she felt a tingle when she remembered the way he’d said those words told her she’d be hopeless as a lesbian. She hadn’t been serious in the first place.

Still, she wasn’t interested in another relationship. She’d been burned too badly. He just gave her something to daydream about that wasn’t upsetting, and she couldn’t see any harm in fantasizing if it made getting through the day easier. It wasn’t as though she’d ever act on those fantasies.

The stars were out. She hadn’t noticed them in ages. She stopped to gaze up at the sky and to feel the cool wind ripple through her clothes. She was glad she’d come to California. She felt she could breathe for the first time since the nightmare with Gordon started. She didn’t have to worry about the police dropping by to ask her any more questions, didn’t have to fear that every car she heard was someone coming to vent their anger, didn’t have to worry about what someone might say to her children or dread another visit from her mother-in-law. She’d unshackled herself. And even though that freedom would come at the price of living in a tumbledown old ranch house for a while, she was willing. For the first time since she said “I do” nine years ago, she realized that even her marriage had been confining. She’d accepted that being Mrs. Gray was her “forever” lot in life, would never have considered leaving Gordon, if only for the sake of her children. But now that he’d made the decision for her, perhaps one day she’d be glad that she’d been given the chance to reinvent herself.

That was an interesting thought, one she hadn’t considered in all the misery of the foregoing weeks, but one that seemed to hang in the air tonight as a tantalizing promise. The future could be what she made it...

Hauling in a deep, cleansing breath, she smiled as she continued to the creek.

She couldn’t see Gavin’s place from there, so she crossed over and peered through the trees.

There were no lights on at his house, and his truck was still gone.

It was after midnight. This late, he had to be with a woman, didn’t he?

Probably. Maybe he was even staying the night...

She told herself he had the right to do whatever he wanted; it made no difference to her. But she didn’t feel quite so relieved and happy as she turned and walked back to the broken-down house that awaited her attention in the morning.

5

Gavin was exhausted when he turned down the narrow road leading to his house. No Good Pete’s had been rowdy, and the crowd hadn’t left until the bar closed. Normally, he liked playing for a packed house. All musicians dreamed of being well received. But his mind hadn’t been on his music tonight. He’d been thinking about his new neighbor—about how pretty she was and about the fact that she’d been married to a rapist. How did something like that happen to a woman like her? And how had it affected her and her children?

He’d also been making a mental list of all the things she would need over the next few weeks in order to make her house a home, and he was so preoccupied with what he could do to help that he didn’t notice until he was ready to pull into his own drive that there was a Toyota Pathfinder in the way.

He recognized that SUV instantly. It belonged to Heather Fox, his on-again, off-again girlfriend for the past few years, who was now with Scott Mullins, a guy Gavin had known almost since he moved to Silver Springs at fourteen.

“There you are,” she said as he got out. “Your gig must’ve gone late.”

Her statement struck him as odd. “You knew I had a gig?”

“Yeah, I saw it on your website. I like what you’ve done there, by the way—how people can book online.”

He’d forgotten about the website. “It’s been convenient. I still go over all requests to make sure they’re not too far away and negotiate if they want longer hours or more than one show, but it handles a lot of the initial inquiries, since people can see my rates and whether I’m off on certain days or already booked.”

“It’s cool that your music career is taking off. You deserve it. You’re so talented.”

She’d always encouraged him when it came to his music. She’d been flattering in other ways, too. That was probably why he fell back into a relationship with her every once in a while even though he wasn’t in love. “Thank you.”

“So you were in Santa Barbara tonight?”

She must’ve gotten that from the website, too, because he hadn’t talked to her since seeing her at the Blue Suede Shoe three weeks ago, when she’d been with Scott. “Yeah. No Good Pete’s.”

“Oh. I’ve never seen you play there. I’ll have to go next time.”

With or without her current boyfriend? he wondered, but didn’t ask. “They’re having me come back next Saturday.”

“Perfect. Santa Barbara’s not that far. But...why are you home so late? Don’t most bars close at two?”

He could hear the jealousy in her voice. She suspected he’d been with someone. She hadn’t been happy the last time he—yet again—broke it off. “This bar did, too, but it took me a while to pack up.” He grabbed his guitar from the back seat. “What are you doing here? Did I miss a text?”

“No.” She gave him an enticing smile as she came toward him. “I thought I’d surprise you.”

Why? “It’s late. Really late.”

“Is that a problem? I figured you might be lonely all the way out here. The last time we were together, you were still in your apartment, remember?”

This was generally how things started with Heather. She’d hit him up and he’d succumb simply because he was a little lonely, she was comfortable, he missed the physical intimacy and it was hard to tell her no. He didn’t like disappointing her, and after he’d had some space, he tended to remember only the good things about her, which then made him wonder if he shouldn’t give the relationship another shot. She’d been fixated on him for so long he wished he could return her love. But wishing never seemed to make it possible.

He stopped before she could walk into his arms. “Does Scott know you’re here, Heather? Because the last I remember, you two were seeing each other.” And Scott wouldn’t be happy to learn she’d shown up at her old boyfriend’s place. He was threatened by Gavin—as evidenced by the dirty looks Gavin received whenever they happened across each other in town.

A sheepish expression claimed her face. “It’s none of his business.”

“Because...”

“We broke up tonight.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I thought it might be serious for you two.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “You know my heart has never really belonged to him. You’re the only man I’ve ever truly loved.”

Gavin began to feel a little uncomfortable. He didn’t want this to go the way it usually did, where he wound up in a relationship he was eager to get out of. “Heather, I hope I’m not the reason you broke up.”

“Of course you’re the reason! I don’t know what to say. I can’t get over you.”

Shit. She’d seemed happy. Having Scott in the picture had taken so much pressure off him. “I care about you,” he said. “I hope you know that. But...I don’t want to get back together.”

He hated having to be so blunt, but he didn’t want her to ruin her relationship with Scott, with whom he’d thought she finally had something, because of false hope.

Instead of the hurt and anger he expected, a tentative smile curved her lips. “Come on. I treat you right, don’t I? Have I ever said no to you?”

She hadn’t. That was part of the problem. He lived in a small town, which meant as a single person he went long stretches without sex. By the time she cycled back to hit him up, the physical intimacy she offered usually tempted him beyond his ability to refuse.

But he wasn’t going to succumb tonight. He’d met someone else, someone he thought he might really be interested in. He knew getting to know Savanna, in order to make sure, wouldn’t be easy. She’d been through a lot, and it was all so recent. But he’d felt an honest attraction when he was with her—one he didn’t have to force—and he wasn’t going to ruin his chances by sleeping with an old flame he couldn’t seem to get rid of. “I’ve never said you didn’t treat me right.”

“Good! Because after what you experienced as a child—”

He lifted a hand to stop her. He didn’t want to go into that. But she waved him off.

“I know you won’t talk about the past. You’ve told me next to nothing. But the whole town knows you were left at a park when you were a kid. It isn’t a secret. I’m only saying that you’ve been on your own for a long time. Aren’t you ready to have someone to love?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. He was ready. But he had to find the right person, and he knew it wasn’t Heather. He’d tried with her—several times. “It’ll happen when it happens.”

She grabbed his arm. “How do you know that? Maybe you have to act.”

“Heather—”

“Wait. Before you say anything else, I—I need to tell you something.”

He didn’t see how he could refuse to listen. She had tears in her eyes. “Go on...”

“I’m pregnant, Gavin.”

His heart began to pound against his chest.

“I found out a week ago,” she added.

He swallowed against a tight, dry throat. “You’re not saying... I mean, we haven’t been together in...in a while. Two months at least. So...this must be Scott’s child, right?”

She wiped away the tears that were starting to fall.

“Right?” he repeated when she didn’t answer.

“I don’t know.” Her words came out a frightened whisper.

Gavin closed his eyes. This couldn’t be happening. “Is that why you and Scott broke up?” he asked when he looked at her again. “You told him about the baby, and he thinks you might be pregnant with my child?”

“Yes. I believe it is yours. In any case, I hope it is, because you’re the one I love.”

When Gavin’s knees threatened to give out on him, he set his guitar down and reached for the door frame. “You were on the pill,” he said, keeping his voice measured and calm despite his panic.

She wrung her hands. “I was. But my doctor told me that certain medications can make the pill ineffective. And I was on antibiotics our last week together.”

Gavin let his head fall against the door frame above his hand.

“You’re not going to say anything?” she asked when he didn’t respond.

“I don’t know what to say.” He knew how religious her family was. Although she didn’t buy in completely, an abortion would be out of the question. He wasn’t sure he’d suggest terminating a pregnancy in the first place. So...what other options did they have?

“When can we find out?” he asked. No doubt Scott wanted to learn the child’s paternity as badly as he did...

“Not until the baby’s born.”

He straightened in surprise. “That’s nine months!”

“Seven months,” she corrected. “I’m about nine weeks along—or that’s what we think. I’ve never been good at keeping track of my cycle.”

“Seven months is an eternity. Surely, there’s got to be a way to find out sooner.”

“We could do a prenatal paternity test, but it’d be safer—better for the baby—to wait. My doctor told me he wouldn’t recommend it.”

He felt sick. She was right. He had begun to want a family, but not with her. With someone he could truly love.

“Gavin? Are you okay?”

He struggled to voice a few words. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You’re just standing there, looking dazed.”

He was screaming inside, but he didn’t want to make this any harder on her. The fact that she was crying told him she hadn’t planned the pregnancy. “What can I do to help?” he managed to say.

“There’s nothing anyone can do at this point. But I’m hoping you’ll be open to giving us another chance. For the sake of the baby. I mean...maybe the universe is trying to tell us something.”

Gavin didn’t believe the universe had anything to do with it. As far as he was concerned, it was plain bad luck. “It’ll be okay,” he said, but that was a lie. At least, it was for him. “We’ll get through it somehow.”

She gave him a funny look. Could she tell he was only going through the motions? That his heart wasn’t in those words?

“Is that a yes?” she asked. “You’re willing to try again?”

Apparently, his response hadn’t been entirely appropriate. Or it wasn’t what she’d been looking for. But he was picking up only about every other word. With effort, he focused harder. “I’m sorry. What’d you say?”

“Will you give me another chance? I think we’re good together. You couldn’t find anyone who would love you more.”

He squeezed his forehead. “Let me think about it, okay? This is... This is a bit of a shock.”

She sniffed as she attempted a watery smile. “Okay. Yeah, of course.”

“Thank you,” he said politely, and went inside, where he set his guitar carefully to one side and slid down the door.

* * *

In elementary school, Gavin had been fascinated by the story of Hansel and Gretel. His first theft—at seven years old—had been a worn copy of it he’d stolen from the school library and hidden under his bed. He’d loved the happy ending—even though it made him sad, given his own situation—but hated the book, because he couldn’t understand how the father could miss the evil in Hansel and Gretel’s stepmother. None of the other kids who read the book or were told the story seemed to hold the father responsible, but Gavin knew the woodcutter had to have seen some sign of the stepmother’s unkindness, just as his father had witnessed the way Gavin’s stepmother, Diana, had mistreated him. Diana had claimed he was a behavioral problem, had complained about him constantly—and he had been a rambunctious boy—but he hadn’t been seriously delinquent until well after she was out of his life. That was when he’d acted out in earnest.

He should’ve been able to depend on his father to look out for him. Since his birth mother died of a heart defect when he was two, he’d had only his father to act as his protector. Had Miles cared enough, Gavin’s stepmother would never have been able to leave him at that park.

Gavin had been only six when she drove off, but he’d never forget coming out of the bathroom to find her gone. The sickening almost instant knowledge that she hadn’t left him by accident. The gut-ripping fear when the hours dragged on and she didn’t return. Or the whispering of the stranger who came across him and called the authorities.

Letting his head fall back on the door with a thud, Gavin cursed under his breath. He was still on the floor, hadn’t moved since Heather left, and it’d been almost an hour. The news she’d delivered had decimated him, opened him up to his past in a way nothing else could—probably because he was terrified of being responsible for someone else’s happiness, terrified of failing the way his father had failed with him. It required all his focus and energy just to stave off the memories that were assaulting him like machine-gun fire.

Squeezing his eyes closed, he hugged his knees to his chest and brought his head forward again. Don’t remember. That was another life, someone else’s decision. You’re an adult now, in charge of your own fate and your own happiness. That was what Aiyana had taught him. He’d been much happier after she’d come into his life. He’d quit stealing, quit getting in trouble with the law, and had eventually found an inner peace that had always eluded him before. He managed that by refusing to give a mental audience to anything that’d happened to him before the age of fourteen, which was when he started at New Horizons and was adopted a few months later by Aiyana. But now that he was finally hearing from his old man every once in a while, it was more difficult to keep those old memories bottled up. Just the sound of Miles’s voice—or that name on his caller ID—dredged up the pain.

The fact that he might be having a baby seemed to be doing the same thing. Heather seemed fairly convinced he was the father. Was she right? Or was she simply feeling as though she finally had something with which to force him to commit?

Gavin pulled the tie from his hair and let it fall. They wouldn’t know the baby’s paternity for seven months.

How would he ever wait that long?

Finally, he stopped fighting the urge and called Aiyana. He hadn’t wanted to wake her. It wasn’t the thoughtful thing to do. And he considered himself too old to need her, hadn’t had to make a call like this in years. But he knew, from experience, that she wouldn’t mind. She would do anything for him. Maybe that was why her love had had the power to redeem him, to pull him out of the darkness. “Mom?” he said as soon as he heard her sleepy hello.

“Gavin?” she replied, her voice instantly filling with fear. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I mean...I’m not hurt.”

There was a slight pause, after which she sounded more lucid. “So what is it? Did something happen in Santa Barbara? Do you need me to come get you?”

“No. I’m at home. Safe.”

“Then...you’re drunk?”

“No.” He’d never had a drinking problem, but he had enjoyed some wild nights, especially when he was younger. Apparently, getting a call like this had triggered Aiyana’s memory of those days. “Haven’t had a drop.”

“Then what?”

“I shouldn’t have called, I guess. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Wait,” she said. “I’m here whenever you need me. You know that.”

“I do. But now that I’m actually talking to you, I’m not sure I want to tell you what’s on my mind, so it’s a little crazy that I woke you up.”

“Say it, anyway,” she insisted. “We’ll work through it together, the way we always have.”

He couldn’t help smiling at how fast she came rushing to his rescue. She was an amazing woman, had saved so many lost boys. And he was extra lucky because he was one of the eight New Horizons students she’d officially adopted. “You remember Heather Fox?”

“Of course. You’ve brought her to many a Sunday dinner over here. But you told me she was with someone else now.”

“Scott Mullins.”

“That’s right. Is that what this is about? You haven’t been in a fight with him, have you? You told me you were glad Heather had moved on, that you were hoping she’d marry Scott. You—”

“I haven’t been in a fight.” He broke in to stop her before she could go any further down that road. “And I wasn’t lying when I said I was glad she’d moved on. That’s part of the problem.”

“So you’re not sad?”

“No.”

“Whew! Then what’s the rest of the problem?”

He didn’t see any way to break the news gently, so he blurted it out. “She’s pregnant.”

Silence. Then his mother said, “I see. But...what does that mean for you? Are you upset that she’s having a child with Scott?”

He could tell it was a leading statement. Aiyana was beginning to catch on to what this call was all about. “I’m upset that she might be having my child.”

“She told you it was yours?”

“She told me it might be. She doesn’t know for sure.”

“She slept with you both that close together?”

“She probably went straight to his house after I broke up with her. That next week, she tried hard to make me regret my decision, to evoke some jealousy. I saw them everywhere together.”

“I see. So...when will you be able to find out?”

He stared up at the ceiling. “Not until after she has the baby.”

Aiyana sighed deeply.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve run up against something that threatens my peace of mind like this,” he said, putting her sigh into words.

“You didn’t use any birth control?”

He could hear the disapproval in that statement. “Of course we used birth control, Mom. It didn’t work.” He didn’t mention why. He wasn’t going to blame Heather for what’d happened. He was fairly certain she’d believed they were safe.

“So what are you going to do? Is she still with Scott?”

“No. They broke up tonight. I can’t imagine he was happy to hear that she might be pregnant with my child.”

“I can’t, either.”

“Now she wants to get back together with me.”

“She told you that?”

“Yes. She was waiting for me here at the house when I got home from my gig tonight.”

“How do you feel about the idea?”

“Between you and me? I’m not excited about it.”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Of course not.”

She sighed again. “It’s going to be a long nine months.”

“Seven—she’s at two months already. Not knowing will be terrible. I keep hoping that all of this panic and concern will be for nothing. But if the baby is mine, I could use seven months—and then some—to prepare for such a big responsibility.”

“You’ll be a good father,” she said.

He drew a deep breath. Maybe that was what he’d needed to hear. Maybe that was why he’d called her. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You know your brother and Cora have been trying to have a baby, how excited and hopeful we’ve been for them.”

He did. But Elijah was married to the love of his life. Gavin’s situation would be entirely different.

“Damn it.” He’d thought he had his life all figured out. Sure, he battled a few demons late at night, especially if he drank too much, which was why he usually didn’t. But anyone who’d been left at a park at six and then raised by a family who’d only taken him in for the stipend they received from the state would have a few scars. If only he hadn’t gone back to Heather that last time, he would’ve escaped cleanly...

“Gavin...”

“What?”

“If it is your baby, you’re going to love him or her with all your heart. This isn’t the end of the world.”

“Right.” Just the world as he knew it. “Thanks, Mom,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Gavin...”

He could tell she was reluctant to let him go. “I’m fine. Just tired.” As he disconnected, he forced himself to get up. He needed sleep. But as he walked to his room, pulling off his clothes as he went, he thought of his new neighbor. He’d been excited to get to know her. Not only did he find her attractive, she seemed different from any of the other women he’d dated. Unusually pure-hearted. Wise for her age.

Tragedy had a way of tempering people. Maybe that was why he liked her. They’d both faced unusual challenges.

But with what was going on in his life now, he knew he’d be crazy to pursue her. She’d be much better off if he just left her alone.

6

Elijah, the oldest of the eight ranch students adopted by Aiyana, woke Gavin the following morning by barging into his bedroom and letting the door bang against the inside wall. “Hey, you! It’s past noon. Are you ever getting out of bed?”

Gavin rolled over to gaze up at his brother. He never bothered to lock his house, not when he was home, so it wasn’t any wonder that Eli had been able to get in. It was much more of a surprise that he’d show up out of the blue—and alone. These days he was usually with Cora, his wife. “What’re you doing? You never drive all the way out here.”

“Why would I? We see each other all the time.”

They both worked at the ranch, and Eli lived there, too. It used to be that they also met in town quite a bit. But that didn’t happen much anymore. Since Eli had gotten married, Gavin was left at loose ends on the evenings they would’ve spent together. Fortunately, he’d started gigging, which helped to fill that hole. But the fact that he hadn’t yet found anyone he enjoyed hanging out with as much as his brother made him think that maybe it was time for him to settle down, too. He’d actually been feeling that way for a while.

Maybe having a baby with Heather would force his hand. She wasn’t a bad person. Surely, he could come to love her—now that he knew he might not have any choice. Then everything would end well.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Gavin said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came out because my calls kept going straight to your voice mail.”

Gavin covered a yawn. “Did it ever occur to you that I might’ve turned off my phone for a reason?”

“It did. That reason is why I skipped going to LA with Cora to visit her folks and came over here instead.”

He groaned. “Oh. I get it. You’re worried. Mom told you about Heather.”

“Was it a secret?”

“I’d rather not have the news spread all over town.” But Gavin had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t be able to avoid it, and he knew Aiyana and Elijah wouldn’t be the ones responsible for doing the talking. No doubt Scott would have plenty to say—every time he was asked why he and Heather had broken up, he’d probably blame Gavin, make it sound as though she’d been cheating with her ex while she was with him, which wasn’t true.

“Mom’s concerned about you. And let’s be honest. She assumed you’d tell me eventually,” Eli added with a grin.

“I’m sure I would have.” Although Gavin struggled to get along with a couple of his brothers—not too shocking given that they all came from such difficult backgrounds and some were more damaged than others—he was totally devoted to Elijah. They couldn’t be closer if they were related by blood.

“So?” Eli said. “How do you feel about the news?”

Gavin felt sick about the pregnancy—and then he felt guilty for reacting so negatively. Despair wasn’t what Heather needed, and it wasn’t fair to the baby, who wasn’t to blame for Gavin knocking up a woman he liked but couldn’t seem to love. “Do I need to spell it out for you?” he asked with a wince.

“There must be something about Heather. You keep going back to her.”

Gavin shot him a look. “You know it was finally over for me.”

Eli frowned as he sat on the foot of the bed. “Yeah. It did feel pretty permanent this time.”

“That’s what makes this so ironic.” He shoved a few pillows behind his back.

“She’s been with Scott Mullins for a while. Are you sure it’s not his baby?”

Gavin wanted to reach for the hope that possibility evoked but didn’t dare. “I’m not sure, but...she doesn’t think so.”

“She could be wrong.”

“She would know better than we would.”

Eli scratched his neck. “She’s always had a thing for you. Could saying the baby is yours be nothing more than wishful thinking?”

Gavin had considered that. He didn’t think she’d get pregnant on purpose. Or that she’d tell an outright lie. But he could see her using a bit of doubt to get him to reconsider their relationship. “I honestly don’t know.”

“What does that mean? Are you going to give her another chance, or wait until—”

“I’m going to support her through the pregnancy and then decide about anything more permanent. If the baby’s mine, I’ll marry her.”

“You will.”

“Yes.”

Resting his elbows on his knees, Eli stared at the rug covering the hardwood floor. “What if you two get close over the next several months and it turns out that the baby isn’t yours?” he asked when he spoke again.

Gavin immediately thought of his new neighbor and the opportunity that would provide but pushed Savanna from his mind. Even if he wasn’t facing this problem, she’d made it clear that she wasn’t interested in pursuing a romantic relationship. So he wasn’t losing anything, even though it felt like he was. “If I could fall in love with her, that would be a good thing.”

“Regardless.”

“Isn’t that what commitment’s all about?”

“You’re saying you’d love Scott’s baby. Help raise it.”

“Of course.”

Eli got up and began to pace. “Okay. Playing devil’s advocate here...what if you two can’t make it work, and she goes back to him?”

Gavin kicked off the covers. “I hope that doesn’t happen. Scott already resents me. No doubt this will make him hate me all the more.”

“No man likes living in the shadow of a former lover.”

“I get that. But I didn’t put him there. I’ve always been honest with Heather, told her my feelings aren’t as strong as hers.”

“You couldn’t tell by the way you treat her. Maybe that’s the problem.”

“I’m supposed to treat her badly?”

“I’m not suggesting that. It’s just... I don’t know. Frustrating for me to feel as though you’re being railroaded. If only she could love Scott half as much as she loves you, you’d be off the hook.”

“No. I don’t want her to go back to him now, don’t want my child to be raised by a stepparent. Not after what I went through. Especially when we’re talking about this particular situation. The last time I was at the Blue Suede Shoe, Scott and Heather were there, too. Heather couldn’t take her eyes off me. Every time I looked up, there she was, and Scott didn’t miss it. They got into an argument before the night was over. Then Scott insisted they leave.”

“I see your point. Given her history with you, he’d always be jealous.” Elijah scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, bro. She’s really got you cornered.”

“She didn’t do it on purpose.”

Eli stopped moving and propped his hands on his hips. “I hope not!”

“She didn’t! At least, I can’t imagine why she would. She’s got to be as panic-stricken as I am. A kid makes life real, you know? Anyway, we’ll figure it out.” Although, at this point, Gavin had no clue how. He’d never been able to force his heart, wasn’t sure anyone could.

A knock sounded at the front door.

“For living in a remote place, you’re getting a lot of visitors this morning,” Eli said.

Gavin barely refrained from grimacing. “That’s got to be her.” When he’d asked for some time to think, he’d been hoping for several days. But maybe she couldn’t give him that. She had to be upset and eager to reach a resolution...

“Should I get it?” Eli asked. “I could say you’re in the shower or something to buy you more time to come to terms with this.”

“No. I might as well reassure her that I won’t leave her holding the bag.” He got out of bed, pulled on his jeans without bothering to button them and went out to talk to her. But it wasn’t Heather. Branson stood at the door. Savanna was in the moving van with Alia, letting it idle in front of the house while her son ran up to the door.

Feeling a twinge of guilt for not getting up earlier and taking over some milk and cereal or eggs, Gavin quickly buttoned his pants. “Hey, little buddy. What’s going on?”

“We found a fridge for sale in Santa...Santa Something,” Branson said. “But not Claus.”

Gavin chuckled. “Santa Barbara?”

“That’s it. We’re going to pick it up while we have the truck. My mom was wondering if you’d help us unload when we get back.”

“Sure, I’ll be here. My brother’s visiting, too, so he can help.”

“I’ll tell her.” Branson spoke over his shoulder as he ran back and opened the truck door to convey the message.

“Who was that?” Eli asked, but before Gavin could respond, Savanna called out a thank-you.

Although Gavin felt slightly self-conscious that he hadn’t yet combed his hair, and he didn’t have on a shirt, he strode out to have a word with her. “You don’t need me to go with you and help you load it in the first place, do you?”

“No,” she replied. “The guy I’m buying it from said he has friends who can help. I was just worried about how I’d get it off the truck once I returned, wanted to make sure you’d still be home and wouldn’t mind lending a hand.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he assured her.

Her gaze lowered to his bare torso before shifting to a spot behind him, and he turned to see that Elijah had followed him out. “This is my brother Eli. Eli, Savanna, my new neighbor.”

“Did you say neighbor? Out here?” Eli gestured at the wide expanse of raw land.

“I’m currently moving into the ranch house—or what’s left of it—next door,” she said. “But I never would’ve made it across the creek yesterday if not for your brother.”

Eli gave Gavin a playful shove. “I guess that means he’s good for something, huh?”

Her smile broadened. “He’s pretty handy to have around.”

Gavin felt the pull of attraction. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been more taken with a woman, not so quickly.

“He’s a real pain in the, um, neck,” Eli said, choosing his words carefully in deference to the children. “Don’t let him fool you.”

She leaned forward in an attempt to get a better look at Eli’s face. “I hope you don’t mind, but he signed you up to help me move a fridge.”

Eli shrugged. “Might as well make myself useful.”

“What about a stove?” Gavin asked. “You’ll need one of those, too.”

“That’ll be tougher to find. I’m not even sure if I should get gas or electric. I thought you might know.”

He nearly laughed. How she was going to go about remodeling the ranch house, he had no idea, but he sort of liked that she needed him. “Gas.”

“Got it. I’ll grab a microwave so we can get by in the meantime and hope to come across a gas stove. I appreciate the help.” She put the transmission in Drive. “If all goes well, and the fridge looks as good in real life as it does in the pictures I saw, I’ll be back in an hour and a half.”

“We’ll be here,” Gavin said.

As soon as she drove off, Eli nudged him. “Wow!”

Savanna’s smile had left Gavin a little dazed. “What?”

“The color of her hair is sort of unusual, but she’s striking.”

Gavin watched the moving van until it reached the highway. “Yeah. She’s pretty, all right.”

“So what’s going on? She married?”

“Divorced.” He thought of what her ex had done but chose not to reveal that information. Although he could trust Eli not to tell anyone else—except maybe Aiyana—opening his mouth felt disloyal somehow.

“Then why haven’t you mentioned her?”

“She’s just got here yesterday.”

“The same day you learned that Heather is pregnant.”

He let his breath seep out in a long, dejected sigh. “Yeah. Can you believe it?”

* * *

“Did you see all of Gavin’s tattoos?” Branson asked, his voice full of awe as they gathered as much speed as they could muster, given the limitations of the van.

Since Gavin had come out of the house without a shirt, Savanna couldn’t have missed his tattoos—or his bare chest. But she didn’t mind having seen that. She liked the way he looked. A lot. His brother was probably more classically handsome. With such dark hair and blue eyes, he reminded her of Elvis Presley, but she found Gavin’s less conventional looks more attractive. “I saw them,” she said.

“They went clear up to here!” Branson indicated his shoulder.

Alia, who was busy playing a game on Savanna’s phone, made no comment.

Curious to see what her son would say, Savanna glanced over at him. “Do you like tattoos?”

He seemed stumped by the question. His father had railed about the kind of “trash” that would mark up his or her body, so she knew Branson had to be remembering that. He also had to be thinking that maybe he no longer cared what his father thought about something as benign as tattoos, that maybe he’d venture to form his own opinion. “Do you?” he asked uncertainly.

Since she’d met Gavin, she did. He had to be the sexiest man she’d ever come across, tattoos and all, which was odd because if someone had asked her only a few days ago to describe the perfect man, she would not have described anyone who looked remotely like him. “I do,” she admitted. “Especially his. They suit him.” Gordon would’ve been shocked to hear those words come out of her mouth, but until now she’d never had strong enough feelings on the subject to contradict him when he criticized ink.

Gordon’s cutting remarks suddenly seemed highly ironic, though, considering what he’d done.

“So can I get one when I’m old enough?” Branson ventured.

She veered to the right, hugging the shoulder so that a car that’d become impatient with following her could get past. “As long as you’re at least eighteen. Then you’ll be an adult and can decide for yourself. You can’t get one any sooner than that.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You said you liked them.”

“I do, depending on how they’re done and where they’re at on a person’s body. There’s an art to it. Anyway, tattoos are permanent. You need to know yourself well before you make that commitment, be certain of what you’re doing.”

“Oh.”

She could tell he was deep in thought. Was he considering easygoing Gavin as a new role model? And was he wondering if maybe he’d rather be like Gavin than the kind of large and in-charge person his father had always been?

She’d been worried about Branson. She’d read enough online to know that bed-wetting wasn’t a good sign, but she hoped her son could recover from the blows they’d recently sustained. If not, she was going to do what she could to seek help.

“I like Gavin’s tattoos,” Alia piped up, smiling in a way that let Savanna know she also found him appealing. Alia had been so engrossed in her game Savanna had thought she wasn’t paying attention. But this proved that the whole family was a little smitten with their neighbor.

Was it only because he was new—something different? Even before Gordon had been accused of rape, Savanna had let her life fall to routine, had merely been going through the motions. She didn’t think that automatically happened in a marriage, but somehow it’d happened in hers. So what had come first? Had she neglected Gordon in some way—maybe while she was grieving the loss of her mother, father and older brother—so he’d turned to getting his thrills elsewhere? Or had he turned to getting his thrills elsewhere, thus showing less interest in her, and then she’d started focusing strictly on the kids to avoid feeling any dissatisfaction with her marriage?

Someday, maybe she’d get him to tell her why he’d done what he’d done. What led up to that type of thing? What made him hurt people—people who had little chance of fighting back? After living with him and feeling as if she knew him better than anyone, she wanted to understand why above all else. But whenever she tried to get him to level with her, he did the exact opposite—swore up and down that he was wrongly accused. That he’d play the martyr when there were women who’d suffered serious injury at his hands made her as angry as anything.

Even if she never got the answers she craved, she’d be better off if he’d just leave her alone, she decided.

Too bad she had little hope of that happening. Now that he was in jail, she was about all he had. He wasn’t likely to let her go easily.

Her phone rang. She didn’t have Bluetooth in the van, so she couldn’t have answered even if she wanted to—not while she was driving—but when she glanced down and spotted caller ID, she didn’t want to. It was Dorothy. She opened her mouth to tell Alia not to pick up, but Alia had the phone and pressed Talk before Savanna could even get the words out.

“Hi, Grandma!”

Tensing, Savanna pulled off the highway onto a side road and put the truck in Park. She was terrified that Dorothy might say something terrible to Alia, something that would come as too much of a shock to a child of six. Savanna hadn’t mentioned to her children that she and their father’s mother were still feuding, was trying to keep them from being caught in the middle.

“What’d you say?” Alia’s smile slid from her face. “You have Daddy on the line?”

“Let me talk to them,” Savanna whispered, but Alia wouldn’t relinquish the phone.

“Daddy wants to talk to me,” she said.

Apparently, Dorothy had Gordon on a three-way. Damn it! If not for Alia, this call would’ve transferred to voice mail like all the others.

Savanna curled her fingernails into her palms as she tried to decide whether to insist on taking the phone. Would it be better for her daughter to hear from Gordon—or not?

She supposed that would depend on what he had to say, whether he’d be angry and use Alia to pass whatever accusations he might launch along to Savanna, or try to comfort Alia after all she’d been through.

Alia deserved some reassurance.

Please let him give her that...

Savanna held her breath and waited.

“Hi, Daddy...Okay...I love you, too...Because we don’t live there anymore...Far, far away...Yeah, in a big truck! And someone stole our fridge!...No, this morning we had to eat the peanut butter sandwiches Mom brought for the drive, and they were all smashed...” She wrinkled her nose to show how unappealing they’d been. “Miss you, too...I don’t know...” She glanced up when she said that so Savanna knew Gordon’s question had something to do with her. “Do you want to talk to her?”

Branson, who was also watching Alia, had a dark expression on his face. As long as Gordon was being nice, Savanna hoped he’d ask to speak to his son—in case it might soothe Branson’s hurt to some degree.

“Just a minute...” Alia held the phone out to her brother. “Daddy wants to say hi.”

Savanna breathed a sigh of relief. But Branson didn’t move.

Alia tugged on his shirt. “Branson, it’s Daddy!”

Branson looked up at Savanna. “Did he really hurt those women?”

He knew the answer to that question; he just needed confirmation. It wasn’t easy to shake a child’s faith, not when that child had once believed his father to be totally reliable.

Savanna nodded. She couldn’t lie. The kids had a right to know the truth.

“Then I don’t want to talk to him,” he muttered, and turned to the window.

Alia didn’t seem to know how to react.

Steeling herself for what would likely be another emotional episode, Savanna took the phone. “Hello?”

“Branson won’t talk to me?” Gordon said. “You’ve turned him against me already?”

“I haven’t turned anyone against you. You did this.”

“My mother told me she went to the house to see the kids, and it’s empty.”

Savanna knew Dorothy hadn’t traveled to Nephi to “see the kids.” She’d come to “talk some sense” into Savanna, was still hoping to get Savanna to use the last of her money to pay for a fancy lawyer. “We’ve moved,” she admitted.

“Where?” he demanded.

“Stay right here,” she told the kids, and got out of the truck so she could talk without an audience. She had no doubt that this conversation would be unpleasant—all of her conversations with Gordon had been unpleasant since he’d been arrested—and she preferred their children not hear another argument. “I’d rather not say.”

“You won’t tell me where you’ve gone? When have I ever been any threat to you?”

“Until the police came knocking on our door, I never realized you were a threat to anyone. Since then I’ve decided that I never really knew you, or I knew only a small part of you, the part you were willing to show me. So you tell me, Gordon. Was it freak luck that I turned out to be your cover while those other women turned out to be your victims?”

“That’s crazy! Listen to yourself! You’re overreacting, babe. I’m still the same man you married. The same man you said you loved.” He lowered his voice. “The same man you slept with at night.”

He meant that to sound alluring; she could tell. But she couldn’t help wincing. She didn’t care to remember their more intimate moments. “What you did changes everything, Gordon.”

“I didn’t do it!”

Balling her free hand into a fist in an attempt to control her own simmering rage, she hissed, “Stop lying! They have proof!”

“Doesn’t matter what they have. I’m innocent!”

She wished she could believe him. Or maybe it was better if she didn’t. Wouldn’t it be worse to think her children’s father had been wrongly imprisoned, especially when she could do so little to help? “Please, stop. Things are difficult enough. There’s no point in fighting. It won’t change anything.”

He seemed to make an effort to speak calmly. “I’m not trying to upset you.”

“Just hearing from you upsets me!” She turned her back on the truck because both children had their noses pressed to the glass.

“So what am I supposed to do? Give up my family as well as my freedom when I haven’t done anything wrong?”

She squeezed her eyes closed. It was so hard to hear that over and over. His protestations tempted her to scream at him, to make him take responsibility and quit lying. She had let loose once, but doing so hadn’t made her feel any better. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t do it again, wouldn’t be reduced to that. “Please, let me forget you and move on. Let us go. After hurting those women, the least you can do is take the punishment you deserve without dragging us all down with you.”

“Easy for you to say,” he cried. “You’re not the one who’ll be rotting in prison for fifteen or more years!”

“You’re to blame for where you’re at, not us.”

“I can’t believe this,” he muttered to himself. “You don’t care if I ever see my kids again.”

Dorothy cut into the conversation, which came as a bit of a shock. She’d remained silent for so long Savanna had almost forgotten she was there. “Told you,” she said to her son. “What kind of wife abandons her husband at the first sign of trouble? She’s not the person we thought she was!”

Savanna had had enough of her mother-in-law. “This isn’t just trouble, Dorothy. It’s serial rape, one of the most heinous crimes there is.”

“Except he didn’t do it!” Dorothy responded.

“Mom, I got this,” Gordon broke in. “Let me talk to her, okay?”

A brief silence ensued during which Dorothy restrained her desire to take over the conversation. When Gordon spoke again, he did so with a renewed attempt at being cordial. “I haven’t hurt anyone, Savanna. Somehow, I need you to believe that.”

“How?” she said. “They found Theresa Spinnaker’s blood in our van!”

“Because I gave her a ride once!”

“What?” This was the first Savanna had ever heard of that. “When?”

“Just after Christmas. That’s why I’ve been so desperate to reach you. She’s admitted it. You can call my defense lawyer if you don’t believe me. He’ll tell you it’s true.”

“You gave her a ride,” she said skeptically.

“Yes. To that restaurant where she worked.”

Savanna covered her left ear so she could hear above the engine of a semi that rumbled past. “Because...”

“It was snowing out! I saw a woman trudging through the storm in her little waitressing uniform with barely a sweater on and felt sorry for her. So I pulled over and gave her a lift.”

“Then why didn’t you say that from the beginning? You told me the police planted the evidence. Now you’re saying she was in our van but for something completely innocent?”

“It took me a while to remember that I had seen her before. She was so bruised in the pictures the cops showed me I didn’t recognize her. We’d only crossed paths once, and for such a brief time. I couldn’t place where. You know I’ve picked up a lot of hitchhikers over the years. Doing so helped relieve the boredom of all the driving I had to do.”

She was aware of that. They’d talked about it before. Savanna remembered warning him of the danger involved in picking up strangers.

“But once my confusion and panic subsided, and I could think clearly, I realized she was the same woman,” he went on. “So I told my attorney, and after he reminded her, she remembered it, too.”

“Was she bleeding when you did that?”

“Not that I could tell, but I didn’t check her for injuries. The drops of blood the police found were so small, who knows how they got there? You could barely see them with the naked eye. For all I know, they were planted, like I said before.”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.