Page 21 of Ace
He grunted. He was a great one to talk about healing. He surely hadn’t. Didn’t know how. Didn’t want to learn. Just plain refused to move on. Wasn’t sure he could. So he asked her to, “Tell me about Sanctuary.”
“It’s nothing special, just a home for stray cats and dogs. Some birds.” The muscles in her slender neck contracted as she swallowed. “A couple of barns. One of these days, I need to set them both on stilts in case the levee breaks again or if the swamp floods. That’s all Sanctuary is. A no-kill shelter.”
“Sounds like you manage the local pound.”
That got an indelicate grunt out of her. “I guess I do in a way. Some days, seems more like it manages me.”
“Is it located in town?” He probed to keep her talking.
“No. That’d be unfair to all my dogs and cats. They need fresh air and room to run.”
So, where then?Keller waited Savannah out. There was something about the way she moved her tongue over her lush lips as if she relished talking about the work she did. “I could show you,” she whispered over the rim of her cup.
Good idea. That might be the diversion she needed. Keller toasted her before he drained his cup and then said, “It’s a deal. How about we swing by Sanctuary after we eat?”
“Why do you care? It’s out of your way, and I’m sure an FBI agent has better things to do than visit a bunch of smelly, old dogs and cats.”
Ah, now she was playing with him. Savannah didn’t believe her dogs were smelly, and he doubted many of them were old. Keller lifted both shoulders, not ready to analyze why he’d requested time off or why he felt the need to linger anywhere in Louisiana. He had no vested interest in this state. Only he did. Where once this land held nothing but ghosts, he now smelled lilacs.
“Do you have other family? Does Dr. John live near you?”Please, say no.
She met his question with one of her own. “Are you always this attentive to the… the victims you meet in your line of work?”
He shook his head at her assessment. “You’re not a victim. You’re a survivor.”
Tyrone returned with their orders, interrupting as he shuffled plates full of waffles, ham, and eggs onto their respective placemats.
But Keller recognized the talk-to-the-hand in Savannah’s reply. Which meant good old RJ was part of her life, and Keller should mind his business. Which was true. It wasn’t like he had reason to hang around Gran Mere’s great granddaughter. Turkey Creek was a few hours north, and Carol Marie’s headstone needed to be tended. That was where he should go. Weeds grewup quickly in the South, kudzu even quicker. He lifted his cup in a mock toast and said with as much cheer as he could muster, “To Sanctuary, then.”
Savannah offered a weak smile but met his cup with her own mid-table. “To your safe return home.”
Yeah. That.
Chapter Ten
The pecan waffles weren’t that tasty after all. They stuck in her throat and they were too sweet. Savannah couldn’t seem to summon enough spit to swallow the dough, but worse? She couldn’t wait to get away from Agent Boniface. That annoying voice in the back of her mind kept telling her she’d been foolish to think this handsome white man could be attracted to her. He was a professional federal agent, uptight and in strict control of everything he did. He could never want a woman like her. The sooner they visited Sanctuary, and once he realized what she did for a living, he’d be long gone.
But that poor elderly gentleman across the aisle... She couldn’t keep from eavesdropping on the turmoil in his mind.Lyle Goldenrod. Former basketball coach at the local high school. Recent widower. Going on seventy-seven with a heart condition. A has been.Washed up. A burden to his daughter and her two sons. Easily confused. Prone to wander off and forget things. Like his car. Where he lived. Where he left his keys…
And enough. “Excuse me,” Savannah told Keller as she eased out of the booth, calling out, “Mr. Goldenrod? Oh my gosh, is it really you?”
That stopped his daughter cold. Made Keller look, too. But the sweet silver-haired gentleman’s sweet blue eyes lit up as if he knew Savannah. “Well, hi there, Miss—”
“Church! Savannah Church!” she interrupted as she crossed the aisle and slid into the booth next to him. “I meant to call earlier to tell you congratulations! You’re hired!”
“I’m hired?” he said the same moment his daughter spiked an imperious brow and asked, “He’s what?”
It took Savannah mere seconds to retrieve this unsmiling woman’s name from her overly organized, calculating, stress-filled head. “Oh, hi, Virginia. Your dad told me what a help you’ve been. Yes, I put an ad in the paper for a ground's assistant a couple weeks ago, and your father applied. I’m afraid I don’t have enough work for a forty-hour week, but I do need someone to help around Sanctuary while I tend to my dogs.”
“And just what is Sanctuary?” Virginia asked.
Whoa. Could she get more condescending?
“Excuse me, I should’ve introduced myself better. I’m Savannah Church, the owner and manager of Sanctuary, the only privately-owned dog shelter east of New Orleans. It’s not far from here.” She turned to theelder Goldenrod at her side. He’d already made room for her on the bench and had turned his shoulders to face her. “Do you still want the job? Oh, I hope so. If you do, I’ll need you to start first thing Monday morning. The job comes with free room and board, meals, plus plenty of fresh air and all the four-legged companionship you can stand.”
He took her hand in his, which gave Savannah another chance to instill calming reassurance into him despite her out of the blue announcement. His hand was cold to the touch and frail. But she sensed determination and pride. “I’m afraid it isn’t technically challenging work, Coach Goldenrod, but I really need someone I can trust. Someone I won’t have to train. Someone like you.” And he needed this opportunity to get out from his daughter’s domineering plan for the rest of his life. An assisted care center? What a waste of an intelligent man’s life. So what if he was a little forgetful? Savannah forgot things all the time. She ended with, “Please?”
“I most humbly accept, Miss Church,” he said, a light back in his weary blue eyes. “How about we negotiate wages and benefits Monday morning? I might have a few ideas for Sanctuary.”
