Page 26 of Colton First Responder (Coltons of Mustang Valley)

“I assume the blood had Zane’s DNA in it,” Grayson said, stopping and turning to face Savannah, who also stopped but refused to look him in the face.

“You assume right,” she answered with a sob.

Chapter 8

Grayson wanted yet again to take Savannah into his arms, to hold her tightly against him as she cried.

Too bad the cops didn’t see this. Surely she wouldn’t be crying that way if she’d killed the SOB.

On the other hand, she’d probably told this story before, and might have cried then, too. They hadn’t released her.

And they could interpret this as her being sorry about getting caught, not about her ex’s apparent murder.

Instead of hugging Savannah, Grayson took her hand, pulling her closer on the dirt beneath them. “Let’s go back inside,” he said, attempting to keep his tone light. “Did you notice? I brought you some wine, and I think this would be a good time for a sip or two.”

Savannah, now facing him, swallowed and appeared to attempt a smile. “I saw that. A nice, not-too-expensive brand that no one would particularly notice when you bought it.”

“Exactly.” He held onto her hand as she started leading them back to the cabin.

Once they got inside, Grayson made sure the door was locked as Savannah picked up the wine from the back of the counter beside the refrigerator. And yes, it wasn’t especially expensive or high quality. It came in a screw-top bottle, since he’d doubted there was an opener here in the cabin and didn’t want to search for one to buy when he was on that outing. There were a few glasses without stems that the owner of the cabin had left in a cupboard, so they didn’t need to drink out of the bottle.

Grayson offered a toast. “Here’s to getting all of this resolved quickly and well.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Savannah said solemnly, clinking his glass with her own.

Grayson gestured toward the table. “Let’s sit down and—”

“And talk about you for a change,” Savannah asserted. “I’m sure I’ll be the topic again soon, but I’d like to hear about you, Grayson. How did you happen to become a first responder in the first place, then start your own company?”

The explanation had its good and bad points. In any case, Grayson didn’t want to talk about it now.

But sitting across the table from Savannah as she sipped her wine and regarded him with an expectant expression on her face that was beautiful despite the redness around her eyes from crying, he didn’t want to tell her to mind her own business. She deserved answers, too. And he could keep things as light as possible.

“Well,” he began, “I started out after high school in the military—the army. Did my duty but decided I didn’t want to make it my long-term career.” But it had been a good way to get out of town briefly and begin his own life, away from his clinging Colton family.

“Wow,” Savannah said, taking another sip. Her short blond hair fell forward as she tipped her head to drink, and he resisted the urge to reach across the table and push it back. “I’m impressed. A Colton soldier.”

“Exactly. Did my stint as a private in basic training and a bit more. I left, though, as soon as my enlistment ended and came back here. Then I became a wilderness guide, but only for a short while.” Though he had stayed in close touch with some fellow soldiers with whom he’d become good friends.

One such pal had been Philip Prokol, formerly of Tucson, who’d been sent overseas to Iraq, where he was wounded in the military and had come back with PTSD. That hadn’t killed him directly, but his attempt to flee everything he had known before, including his hometown and family, had caused him to be out in the wilderness in northern Arizona in a major rainstorm. He’d died from being washed away in a flood.

Could he have been saved? Apparently there hadn’t been enough first responders to deal with that disaster and the many people swept into the water.

Hearing about it, first on the news and then from Phil’s family, had almost destroyed Grayson inside. He should have done more to help his friend. He’d already ended his own brief career as a wilderness guider and started college. He should have been with Phil when he’d run off to try to find himself again.

Saved him.

And remembering Phil’s fate in the wilderness during a disaster was one reason Grayson had headed out of town after the quake...to save people who might be in similar situations.

“Are you okay, Grayson?” Savannah interrupted his thoughts, a good thing. It was probably better that he not dwell on why and how he had decided to become a first responder.

“Sure,” he responded brightly. “Just thinking of what I did when I returned to the States. I’d decided first to bec

ome a wilderness guide, then ended that to go to college and major in business.”

And when he’d dropped out, his family, especially his father, hadn’t been happy, and Payne had made that very clear. But Grayson had done what he wanted.

“Sounds good. So did you get a corporate job when you got your degree?”

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