Right Where We Belong (Silver Springs #4)(77)

Would her acting skills be up to the task?

She didn’t see how they could be. She’d never been a good liar. And Gordon knew her so well. Part of her feared he already suspected that she was trying to help the police or he wouldn’t have stopped calling since she brought up Emma Ventnor. She hadn’t even received a letter from him since they last talked, and her mail had certainly had time to forward from her old address. It’d been over a week since his last call...

She’d mentioned her concerns to Detective Sullivan, but he said she was jumping at shadows. Sullivan believed Gordon was just playing it safe, that he thought he could get off for the rapes (he had acted confident when she’d spoken to him on the side of the road Sunday before last) but was afraid if he was ever connected to Emma Ventnor’s disappearance he’d be looking at prison for the rest of his life, because he would be.

Savanna could see Gordon pulling back for those reasons, could see why he might not want her to bring up the subject again. But it was also possible his silence had nothing to do with Emma Ventnor. He could be angry that she’d “abandoned” him and gone so far as to file for divorce. Talking to her had to be upsetting, after all.

With a sigh, Savanna poured herself a glass of wine and sat staring at the burgundy-colored liquid. With the kids in bed, the house was quiet. Too quiet. If she wasn’t obsessing over what she had to do next week, she was thinking about Gavin, which wasn’t a whole lot easier. She hated how cautious and circumspect he was acting. It was almost as if he was afraid to get too close to her. And yet she couldn’t help admiring him for making the welfare of an innocent child his top priority.

When she finished her wine, she poured herself another glass. She liked Silver Springs, but living in the country could get lonely. She’d had so little interaction with others since she came here. Just Gavin. And that had turned out to be too intense. She needed to make an effort to meet people, to get out more now that she was settled into her new place. The kids needed the opportunity to make friends, too, so that their lives could return to normal as much as possible.

Tomorrow they’d meet Gavin’s family. She had to admit she was looking forward to that, to having a legitimate reason to be in his company again. But Savanna wasn’t sure becoming so familiar with his world would prove to be a good thing. She was having a hard enough time putting her relationship with him into perspective.

Carrying her glass with her, she went out on the porch to get some fresh air. Nights were particularly beautiful in Silver Springs. She loved the smell of the valley. There was no exhaust, no stench coming from the family of ten’s garbage cans next door, no nasty marijuana smoke drifting on the wind from somewhere up the block. The air was clean. And now that she was outside and not staring at four walls, the quiet seemed more enjoyable and less oppressive.

She listened for the gurgle of the creek and couldn’t hear it, but she heard something else—a man singing.

Gavin. When she concentrated, she could recognize his voice even though she could barely hear him from where he was probably sitting, on his own porch.

What was he doing home? Why wasn’t he at his gig?

Unable to resist the temptation, she walked down to the creek so she could make out the song he was singing. But she remained behind the trees, where she could listen and watch without interrupting or disturbing him. She felt a little like a stalker, since she wasn’t making herself known, but she was too tired to battle the desire she felt whenever he was around. Since she’d learned about Heather’s pregnancy, she couldn’t even justify wanting him, and that added guilt to all her other emotions.

She needed to put a stop to what was happening in her head and her heart. And she would, she told herself. But tonight, she just wanted to enjoy the beauty of his voice, let it carry her away. What was the harm in that? She figured secretly listening couldn’t be too damaging or creepy if she remained on her own property.

He sang the slow version of “Dancing on My Own,” which she loved.

Gavin was good. Even better than she’d realized when she heard him before.

He sang the same song a few times—practicing, she supposed—but when she finished her wine, she pushed off from the tree she’d been leaning against to go in and check on her kids. She had enough going on without pining after a man she couldn’t have. She needed to let Gavin go and focus on rebuilding her life. The nightmare that’d started with the investigation into Gordon’s crimes wasn’t going to end as a fairy tale. Gavin wasn’t going to sweep her off her feet; he had his own problems to deal with.

Besides, the more she listened, the more she came to believe that he was doing the right thing marrying Heather and moving to where he could pursue his music. The world needed to hear him. And she needed to help find Emma Ventnor, or at least make sure Gordon was held accountable if he’d harmed her, get the farmhouse fixed up so she could sell it and pay her brother his half of their inheritance, money he would need to set up his practice once he got out of school, and continue to provide the love and stability her children needed.

And she needed to do all of that no matter how lost or lonely she felt herself.





22

Gavin had been up most of the night, wrestling with himself over whether to contact Savanna. He’d nearly walked over to her place a dozen times, would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of the fact that, with Heather out of town, he had the perfect opportunity to see her—and yes, maybe even spend the night in her bed. She lived right next door, which would make it so easy. No one would see his vehicle in front of her house; no one would have to know they’d been together if they decided to keep it a secret.