Contemporary
Chasing Savannah
By Mandy
Aug 18, 2007, 02:16

“Holy Cow!” Savannah said out loud to no one. She’d never seen hail the size of baseballs. She hoped this type of weather was rare. She’d been much too worried about the heat to think of supercell storms popping up out of nowhere. She’d been in Texas two whole days and most of it so far had been spent holed up in an attorney’s office, signing papers. She’d rented the luxury car at the airport, the exact model she drove in California. What on earth could be wrong with it, she thought? Now she was stuck on the side of the road in one hell of a thunderstorm. What was that saying she’d heard her attorney say? Something about if you don’t like the weather in Texas, stick around, it’ll change.

She found some napkins in the glove box and wiped at the fog developing on the windshield. She cringed. Good thing she’d purchased the rental insurance. The hail damage was going to be significant. She stared at the sky and looked down the lone road ahead of her. According to the map in her lap, the winery she had inherited upon her great uncle’s passing was only half a mile up the road. She wondered if she should just hike it. If only this darn hail would let up. She tried the ignition again. The key merely clicked. The engine wouldn’t even turn over. “Great!” she muttered.

She fished around her purse and found her cell phone. Who on earth can I call, she wondered. I know no one here. I’ve only met the attorney and I barely know him, she thought. She found the number to the rental company and dialed. The line rang once and then died. She tried again. She stared at the icon of a phone with a slash through it. “Great. No signal. Don’t cowboys use cell phones?”

She wiped at the windshield again with the dirty napkin and peered out. The hail had let up some but the sky seemed to darken even more. She studied the map in her lap and decided to go for it. It couldn’t be far and besides, her bags had already been delivered there. She could shower and change upon arrival and tomorrow she’d get down to business. Why didn’t these damn rental companies include umbrellas with their outrageous fees, she thought as she fished around the floorboard, hoping one would magically poke itself out at her.

Savannah sighed, tucked her thin purse under her arm and opened the atlas that she’d found tucked under the seat. This would have to do, she thought. She held it over her head, pulled the keys out of the ignition and exited the warm car. The hail stung as it struck her bare arms. She grimaced and pulled her arms to the front of her body. After locking the car, she started down the long, black road, looking for her new home. A home she had never seen.

Within seconds, her pale yellow sundress was soaked to the bone. Her tidy bun was flattened on her head. Long, red strands fell over the sides of her face and into her eyes. She swiped at them. The atlas was absolutely no use. The hail had knocked it out of her hands twice and when she’d tried to reposition it over her head again, it had folded over into one big, wet mess. She tucked it under her arm, alongside her purse and trudged forward. Lightning struck the dry ground on the side of the road, a mere two feet from where she stood. She glanced back at the car. She was making good time. Once she passed over the top of this hill, she wouldn’t be able to see it at all.

“Keep going,” she said out loud, as her teeth chattered against frozen lips.

She heard mooing and glanced over to the pasture at her left. A herd of cattle huddled beneath a giant oak tree. She felt the wind pick up behind her. Even the short hair on the cattle was laid flat in the strong wind. She walked faster. It can’t be much further, she thought. The wind at her back pushed her forward and for half a second she’d felt as though it had lifted her off the black, tar road.

The rain picked up and shot sideways, making it impossible for her to see as she blinked and blinked. Any trace of make-up was washed clean off. Savannah shook from the cold as another piece of hail thunked off of her skull. She groaned and walked faster. She was nearly jogging now in high heeled sandals when she heard a train approaching. She glanced to the right and saw an open pasture, dotted with sunflowers and bales of hay. She looked to the left where she saw another herd of cattle taking refuge under a massive oak. Where is the damn train, she thought to herself. She never heard the truck pull up alongside her, nor did she see the big man who ran toward her and threw himself onto her and into the ditch alongside the road just as the tornado bounced over them both and twirled across the winding road.

Colt Daniels watched the dirty, gray twister skip over the pasture fence and scoop up the bales of hay, tossing them in and out as if they were popcorn from a giant popper. The tornado changed direction and crossed over the road again. Colt swore out loud.

His ranch was just around the bend in the road. If the twister stayed its course, his home could be leveled in a matter of seconds.

Colt glanced down at the huddled figure beneath him. He felt her body shift beneath him and heard a muffled groan.

“Stay down ma’am. It’s nearly passed, but these damn twisters can change direction quicker than a woman change’s her mind.”

As if Savannah had any other choice. She could barely breathe, let alone move. The small shifting she’d been able to manage was only because the man had risen off of her for half a second. So, what she’d thought was a train approaching was actually a tornado? Savannah had no idea a storm could sound like that, but was it really necessary for this stranger, who smelled of leather and hay, a surprisingly intoxicating scent, to throw her in a ditch? Savannah was accustomed to being hit on by men, but this was altogether new, giving new meaning to the term.

Colt eyed the sky as the tornado jumped the pasture fence and changed directions again, heading back down the road, straight for them.

“Oh no!” Colt cried as the massive force tumbled toward them. “Dear God in Heaven, keep us safe!”

Savannah trembled beneath a man she’d never met. His fervent praying convinced her to do the same. “God help me! God save me!”

The roar of the train was upon them now. The storm’s scream so hollow and wide that Savannah’s words were drowned out. She felt the man’s arms tighten around her. Every muscle in his body flexed to rock hardness. He buried his head in her neck and pushed them both deeper into the ditch with every ounce of his body weight, stealing Savannah’s breath.

Savannah dared to open her eyes. She saw her muddied purse lying a few feet away from her, next to a fallen sunflower. She watched as the sunflower stood in the stiff wind and twirled in a circle, its leaves swaying like awkward, green arms. Her purse came alive too, flying up at an odd angle, caught in some strange, bizarre dance with the sunflower. Savannah wondered if her last vision on Earth would be of a sunflower dancing with her purse.

She shut her eyes, chanting to herself, begging God for her life. The wind stilled a bit. Only her bare feet stuck out where her sandals had fallen off. Tiny needles of pain shot through both heels, bringing tears to her eyes. She felt a thud nearby and opened her eyes, now filled with grit. A piece of straw, lodged in her eyelashes blocked the vision from her left eye. She focused and blinked. Her purse now lay near her head with the dead sunflower strewn across it. The death dance was over. The man lifted his head.

“Looks like this damn thing is gonna spare us. Come on, little lady. Get in my truck. We’re gonna outrun this monster.”

The man stood and picked Savannah up from the waist, plucking her from the mud. He rolled her over, swung her into his arms and laughed. Savannah’s face was covered in mud and her hair full of muddy hay.

“Lordy, ma’am. You look a sight. Almost like you were tar and feathered.”

Savannah swiped at her face and glared from beneath mud covered lids at the man who just saved her life. Colt carried her to the truck and plopped her inside the cab. He ran back to fetch her purse, keeping an eye on the sky behind them. The cattle nearby were eerily quiet, eyeballing one another with caution as if they too were watching for death.

“Shoot!” Colt hollered when he saw the twister headed back their way again. He dove into the driver’s seat and squealed off. His foot slammed the accelerator to the floor, keeping one eye on the road and one eye on the rear view mirror. Savannah was too afraid to look behind them. Watching his face was horrifying enough.

“What in the hell?” Colt hissed.

Savannah turned to look out the cab window and screamed. The jaguar was headed straight for them as it flew in and out of the swirling tornado like a matchbox car. Colt turned onto a dirt road and gunned it. Red dust swirled around the truck, making it impossible to see.

“Get on the floor!” Colt ordered.

Savannah flung herself onto the floorboard of the truck and prayed out loud. “God help me!”

Colt drove the truck into a barn without bothering to open the doors. He slammed on the brakes and turned the truck off. Savannah heard excited ninnies from startled horses.

“You okay?” he asked, patting her on the back as she lay motionless on the floorboards, hugging a cowboy hat.

Savannah sat up and moved to the bench seat where half a dozen country music CD’s were scattered about.

“Um, yeah, I think so.” She stared at him, open mouthed, not sure of what to say.

“Say, you’re that heiress aren’t ya?”

“Heiress?”

“To the winery.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That’s me. I guess I’m not used to the title.”

Colt grunted. Even covered in mud, the woman was breath taking. It never occurred to him that pushing someone into the mud could be so much fun. He’d like to try it again, without the element of danger involved. He laughed out loud at the thought.

“Hey, what’s so funny?”

Colt stifled another chuckle. “Oh, nuthin.”

“What?”

“You look like a mud wrestler.”

“A mud wrestler?”

“Yeah, you know, those half naked ladies that cavort about in the. . .”

Savannah cut him off. “I know what they are, sir. A mud wrestler I am not!” she spat, holding her chin up a notch higher. Just when she did so, a chunk of mud fell from her chin to her lap.

Colt laughed again.

“Can you take me home now? That is if that demonic tornado is gone. Do they all flip directions like that?”

Colt grinned and flashed a perfect set of straight, white teeth and two very deep dimples her way. “They’re just like women.”

Savannah frowned. “Yeah, I heard that ridiculous comparison the first time. Now can I go home?”

“Uh, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Which do you want first?”

“The good,” Savannah shot back.

“Alright then. The fact is ma’am. You are home. That’s the good news. The bad news is that you need a new barn door.”

“A new barn door?” Savannah cried. Colt nodded before exiting the truck and slamming the door. He was in no mood to apologize for crashing into the Moon barn. He stepped outside, took a deep breath and surveyed the surrounding pastures. Colt squinted at the pale yellow-green sky, a sickening shade that signaled tornado weather. The sun peeked out from behind a gray storm cloud, it’s rays shot through a break in the fluff. The twister had likely died out or continued on its path in search of more destruction. He took another deep breath, savoring the smell of rain soaked fields and hot summer winds. Colt Daniels winked at the sky, privately thanking God for sparing their lives and his ranch.

“Hell!” Colt blurted out.

“What is it?” Savannah asked. She’d been watching from the opened barn, where doors once stood only a few moments before. She wondered about him. He’s probably a hired hand, she thought. No wonder he knew how to get to the barn. The winery employed nearly a hundred people, though she’d yet to meet one of them.

Colt turned around as he ran a hand through short, jet black hair. “I need to get home. I want to make sure there was no damage. Can I give you a lift to the main house?”

Savannah nodded, still dazed from the hail storm, the twister and then the wild ride along the dirt road that ended with them crashing into her barn.

Colt walked back to his truck and opened the passenger door for Savannah. She slid into the seat, picked the cowboy hat off of the floorboard and placed it on the seat beside her. He walked around to the driver’s side, got in and sighed before starting the engine and backing out of the barn.

Savannah watched his face as he fumbled in his shirt pocket. He pulled out a crumpled cigarette pack, held it upside down and flicked the bottom of it with one thick middle finger until one poked out. He grabbed it with his teeth and flung the pack onto the seat between them. Colt glanced over at Savannah and grunted. He’d have to wait to smoke. He didn’t think she looked the type to smoke or even allow it.

He noticed the ring on her left hand and couldn’t help but smile at the amount of mud that clung to the obnoxious jewel. Downright surprising that she didn’t catch a damn bale of hay on that boulder, he thought to himself.

“You can smoke,” Savannah offered, realizing he’d waited to light up just to be polite. “We did just escape death,” she added with a shaky giggle.

Colt grinned at her as the cigarette dangled from his lips. Damn if he doesn’t look like a Marlboro ad come to life, Savannah thought.

“Want one?” Colt asked.

“I don’t smoke,” Savannah answered.

“Good for you. Well, here you are. Home sweet home.”

Savannah stared at the mansion that had emerged from nowhere, born from Texas dust and Spanish dreams. The main house was designed after a Spanish villa, a grandiose terra-cotta monstrosity. Ivy blanketed most of the front of the home. A single tunnel-like entrance fashioned from lattice work led to the grand wooden doors. From over the tunnel hung a variety of ferns and deep, purple clematis.

Savannah gasped. It was more lovely than she’d ever imagined. Colt opened her door. She closed her opened mouth and regained her senses. “Would you like to come in?” she asked.

“Nah. I need to go check on my house.”

“Do you need to use the phone?”

Colt squinted up at the sky. “Yeah, I suppose. I’ll show you around.”

“Oh, you do work here.”

Colt snorted. “Work here? Hell no! The Daniels have known the Moons for decades.”

“Funny, I don’t recall my uncle mentioning you or the Daniels.”

Colt narrowed his gaze as he lit the cigarette and then exhaled, blowing his smoke right over the top of her head. “Funny, I don’t remember your uncle ever mentioning you. In fact, I don’t recall seeing you at his funeral.”

Savannah’s cheeks colored as she fought for the right words. “I couldn’t get away. I had exams that week.”

Colt blew out another puff of smoke and kicked at a June bug inching toward him. “What was it you were studying in California?” he asked, feigning interest.

“Art.”

Colt snickered and spat at the red dirt a few inches from her feet. “They actually give exams in Art?”

Savannah glared at him and then stormed down the path to her front door. She fumbled inside her purse for the house keys and breathed a quick sigh of relief when she found them and inserted them into the lock. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her. Who cared if the man had just saved her life, Savannah thought. He was rude and arrogant. She had already put him out of her mind as she roamed the empty house, familiarizing herself with the rooms. She had just entered the kitchen when she heard a knock at the front door.

She noticed her bags left in the hallway as she made her way to answer the door. She pulled the door open and was nearly accosted by a dozen yellow roses.

“Oh! They’re beautiful,” Savannah said with a gasp, reaching for the card.

“Can I still use your phone, ma’am,” Colt asked from behind the bouquet.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked, now annoyed.

Colt shrugged. “I stopped the delivery man and thought I’d take the roses to you myself.”

“How sweet of you,” Savannah drawled. “So, you usually give second-hand roses to women?”

“Shoot, I apologize, Ms. Moon. I shouldn’t have made that comment about your Art exams.”

Savannah took the roses from him and walked inside. “Go ahead. Use the phone,” she shot back from over her shoulder. She took the roses into the kitchen and read the card, smiling to herself. The roses were from Skip, her fiancé.

Savannah extended her arm to admire her ring and gasped. “Oh my!” She hurried to the sink and began scrubbing the mud off with a sponge when she remembered what a fright she must still look. She shut the water off and darted down the hallway, looking for the nearest bathroom. She lucked out and found one after trying the second room, ran inside, flipped the light on and screamed.

Colt has just began dialing his ranch when he’d heard her. He dropped the phone and ran to the hallway he thought the sound had come from. “Ms. Moon! Are you alright?”

She pulled a lace hand towel from its holder, dampened it and began scrubbing her mud covered face. “Uh, yeah, I’m okay. Just trying to get cleaned up a bit.”

“I thought I heard a scream.”

“Uh, yeah, that was me. Sorry. My appearance is a little scary.”

Colt laughed. “It’s not that bad.”

Savannah glared at the door, as if he could see her expression, then back at the mirror where she groaned. This was no use. She needed a shower. Right away. “I’m sorry, but I need to get in the shower. After you use the phone, can you let yourself out?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. You need anything else?”

“Just a hot shower,” Savannah answered as she searched the cabinets for clean towels. She found some lavender towels with grapes on them, reminding her of the winery. She wondered where the vineyard was located. She’d get the grand tour tomorrow when some of the staff arrived. She stripped the soiled sundress off her and started the shower. Clumps of mud and hay fell from her hair. It felt as though she were washing a scarecrow’s hair. She groaned again at the memory of her face in the mirror and scrubbed harder. The hot spray felt good to her tired body. She noticed welts where the hail had stung her bare arms. Only a few days in Texas and she’d already survived a hail storm, a tornado and a car crash.

She was thankful to whoever had the foresight to stock the shower with shampoo and soap. The maid needs a raise, she thought to herself. She planned on making no changes to the staff. Most of the staff had worked for her uncle for years. She was anxious to meet them tomorrow.

Savannah rinsed the last of the mud off of the back of her ankle, turned off the shower and reached for the towel. She dried off and twisted the towel over her hair. “Damn, my clothes are in the hallway,” she muttered to herself.

She opened the door a crack and realized she didn’t know the guy’s name. She should at least have gotten his name. He did just save her life and now she felt foolish for not thanking him. Well, he shouldn’t have been so rude, she thought, or I would have thanked him.

“Hey, mister, you still here?” There was no answer. She listened for a moment and then tiptoed onto the tile floor. Her bags were only a few feet away. She found the one that contained her robe and bent over to unzip it when she heard footsteps. She froze and then began frantically untying the towel on her head to wrap it around her naked body when she heard a glass shatter.

“Oh, Christ, ma’am. I’m sorry. I was just. . . just leaving. I got stuck on the phone and then . . . I was thirsty. I didn’t think you’d mind,” Colt stammered, open mouthed, staring at Savannah and making no motion to move away.

Savannah managed to pull the towel off of her head and wrap it around her while still squatting. She stood on shaking legs. She tucked the edge of the towel in between her breasts.

Colt stood gaping at her. Savannah smelled whiskey. How dare this perfect stranger drink from her liquor cabinet, she thought.

“Please tell me you didn’t see anything,” Savannah said with a shaky voice, lifting her chin a notch higher.

“No, not a thing,” Colt said as he forced himself to raise his eyes from her breasts to her face. “I’ll, uh . . . Go get something to clean this up and then I’ll be out of your breasts . . . Uh, I mean, your hair,” Colt stammered.

“What? Why, I never . . .” Savannah replied. How crude, she thought as he left to find a broom.

Colt wiped the sweat from his brow and opened the pantry door. He found the broom and dust pan just as Savannah strolled into the kitchen wearing a soft, white fleece robe.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean up the mess,” Savannah said, reaching for the broom.

Colt snatched it away before she could grab it. “Oh, no, please, allow me. I feel awful about it.”

Savannah shrugged. “Okay. I think I need a drink myself.”

She walked to the bar and stumbled. “Ouch! I think I have a piece of glass in my foot.” Savannah took two steps forward. “Ouch!”

Colt dropped the broom and dust pan, came up from behind her and swept her off of her feet. Savannah yelped at the surprise and then remembered that he’d just seen her in a towel.

“Do you do this often?” she asked, red faced while he carried her to a cream colored love seat with a spotted cow hide tossed over the back.

“What?” Colt asked, as he laid her down and took a seat opposite her. He reached for her foot and squinted as he examined each heel.

Savannah watched his face, touched by the worry lines formed between his brows. A pang of guilt stabbed at her gut. Now why should this man give me butterflies, she thought. Indoors he smelled even more like leather and fresh, sweet hay. She’d felt her pulse quicken and realized she breathed deeper, trying to catch an extra whiff before he sat her on the love seat.

“Ouch is right. It’s not glass you have in your feet, darlin. It’s tiny pieces of straw. From the tornado. All that hay blowing around out there. Some of it was bound to end up in you somewhere.”

Savannah knew he said something, but all she’d heard was darlin and in that southern drawl. Oh my, do all cowboys talk like this? There was quite a difference in Skip’s sophisticated, condescending tone. Though this strange Texan lacked elegance, he made up for it with buckets full of charm. As silly as it made her feel, she had to admit, it made her want to melt.

“Do you have any tweezers?” Colt asked, turning her foot side to side, examining it.

“Uh, I think so. In my overnight bag.” She started to get up when he pushed her back down.

“Sit down, little lady. I’ll get it. Which one is it?” he asked, already headed out of the room.

“The small, pink bag,” Savannah hollered.

“Found it.”

He walked back in with a the bag slung over his shoulder. Savannah laughed. “You look funny carrying a pink bag.”

Colt grinned at her, shooting her a glimpse of his dimples. His mouth was turned up on one side where a crooked tooth caught the edge of his lip. Savannah had never seen anything as sexy in all her life. Her robe was suddenly stifling hot.

“You don’t look so good. First aid make you queasy? I promise I’ll be gentle,” Colt offered as he patted her knee.

It was all Savannah could do not to bolt right out of the love seat from the mere touch. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Can I get you something to drink while I work on your feet?”

“Ice water would be great.”

“You got it,” Colt replied with a smile as he patted her leg again and strode into the kitchen.

Savannah caught herself watching him go, studying his firm bottom in starched blue jeans. He wore a black western shirt and except for a small amount of mud on the arms, he looked amazingly fresh. She could even see the creases from the iron in his shirt. A cowboy with style. She didn’t know the creatures existed. How interesting.

Colt returned with her ice water and handed it to her. Savannah smiled at him and took a big drink. “Oh, thanks. I was dying of thirst.”

“You’re welcome,” he muttered while concentrating on extracting miniature pieces of straw from her feet.

“It’s a wonder that they didn’t hurt before,” Savannah mused.

“Well, they probably did, but after everything that you went through, your mind hasn’t even had time to adjust. I suspect you were in shock.”

Savannah nodded before she took another long drink. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” He rubbed the spot he’d just pricked and then kissed her heel.

Savannah’s mouth fell open. Colt was mortified. “Oh, man. Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m just used to doing that to my nieces and nephews when I doctor their boo-boos. They’re always getting scraped up when they visit.”

“Boo-boos?” Savannah asked.

“Uh, yeah. That’s what my mom called them. It was a reflex action, sorry.”

Savannah laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I never got your name. I should know the name of the man who saved my life.”

“Colt. Colt Daniels. And what’s your first name Ms. Moon?”

“Savannah.”

“Pretty.”

“Thanks,” Savannah replied, blushing again. How did this man manage to make her blush so often? She’d been told her name was pretty a million times. Why did it mean so much to her now she wondered.

“So, from what I read in the papers, you plan on keeping the Moon label going and even want to introduce some new grapes to the area?”

“That’s right. I want to branch out. I think we need some more reds. We have plenty of white varieties.”

“Reds don’t fare as well in this heat, though,” Colt added.

Savannah thought of what to say. She didn’t want to get into another argument with him. “Well, nothing’s for certain yet. I will meet with the staff tomorrow. I have quite a bit to learn. I know almost nothing about the wine making process.”

“My point exactly,” Colt replied as he plucked out another piece of straw.

Savannah yanked her foot out of his hand and sat up. “Don’t you damned cowboys have any manners?”

“Damned cowboys?” Colt asked, glaring at her with round, blue eyes.

“Yes, you damned cowboys,” Savannah repeated. She’d never met someone with so little tact in all her life. “Does one clear thought enter your head before you open your mouth to speak?”

“You damned right, lady! I’ll tell you one damned thing for sure. There’s a big difference from us Texans and you snobby Cali-fornians,” Colt retorted, stressing the word Cali as if it were a disease.

“Oh really, Mr. Daniels?”

“Yes, really, Ms. Moon,” Colt replied as he tossed the tweezers onto the coffee table and stood.

“What’s this big difference you speak of?”

“When we’re in a life threatening situation, we pray for everyone, not just ourselves. God help me! God help me!” Colt mimicked as he strode out of the room, down the hall and out the front door.