Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html (5 page)

Savannah froze for moments too long, waiting for the warmth of his lips upon hers, but then she came to her senses when her Southern upbringing sounded an alarm in her confused mind.  She took a step backward into a tree trunk and stumbled, her slick muddy boots sliding across an exposed root, causing her to topple toward the ground.  In an instant, his strong arms caught her and held her there for a heartbeat before she was righted and steadied with those same brawny arms.  Through the cold rain upon her skin, she could feel the heat of his hands while they lingered in the hollow between her ribs and her hips.  Her disappointed eyes followed him as Travis stepped away from her after he saw that she could stand without falling again.  Then she lowered her head and pulled the slicker tighter around her shivering frame.  A demure smile and a mumbled ‘thank you’ was his only reward.

But, she knew that she had no recourse but to agree with the man who had shaken her more than the passing storm had, so she nodded briefly and agreed with his request, “Very well, you can take me home.”

She let him take her elbow and lead her to the pawing Palomino.  She waited for him to mount before raising a hand to his and then she jumped so that he could lift her.  Her effort was not necessary, for his strength was enough to lift her onto the horse and then some. 

She settled onto the rump of the stallion, her wet body as far away from the stranger as possible without slipping back over the horse’s tail, but the man’s strong hand whipped back and captured her arm and tucked it beneath his own.  The other hand followed suit until she was securely fastened to him like a blanket swaddling a baby.  She felt a pat on her hand as if he was satisfied that she would not let go and then a sudden hop as the horse lurched forward with the touch of the man’s spurs. 

The two rode in silence, the rain pelting them with an unyielding barrage until, finally, the trees broke and a large meadow appeared.  In front of them, the looming manor house glowed with merry brightness, its inhabitants still enjoying the exuberance of the party.

Savannah seethed at the inviting imitation of gaiety that seemed to illuminate into the bricked driveway that they had clip-clopped onto.  Her anger at her father and Diego made her stiffen suddenly as the stranger stopped the horse in front of the great double front doors and leaned around to face her.

“Something tells me you would have liked to stay out there in that storm,” he said as he reached a hand around to help her dismount.

“I should say so,” she muttered under her breath as her feet touched the ground.

“Will you be alright?” he asked, his eyes showing the concern that he felt for this tiny creature that had suddenly turned from a fighting feline into a frightened little rabbit.

Nodding, Savannah bit her lip unconsciously before she took a step toward the house.  Her heart dropped to the bottom of her belly when she saw Diego’s dark figure appear in the opened door above her.  She stopped in her tracks.  Her feet would not move despite her urge to flee and defy the man who called gently and soothingly to her from the light of the home that he had invaded.

Within an instant, the stranger was at her side, his strong arms keeping her from dropping to the ground and melting into the puddles that surrounded her.  His warm voice encouraged her to move forward as he pulled her toward the house.

“I’ll go in with you,” Travis assured her with a slight hug of his strong arm around her withering shoulder.  “Just to make sure everything is alright.”

“N-no,” she stammered.  “I’ll be fine.  Thank you for your help.  I really do appreciate it.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his reassuring smile letting her know that he would take care of her if she needed him to.

She nodded, staring fearfully at the silhouette in the doorway, and then she took a step away from the man who had saved her life and who would most assuredly save her from the one who could ruin her life if he had a mind to.

Travis nodded to her and tipped his hat before he bowed to take her hand in his, then he told her, “If you need anything, I’ll be in town.  My name is Travis Corbett.  I’m staying at the Grand Hotel.”

“Thank you, Mr. Corbett,” Savannah said warmly, squeezing his hand gently.  “I appreciate everything that you have done for me.”

With a genteel cock of his head, he bowed again and let her hand drop.  And, as he narrowed his eyes at the figure standing in the doorway, he told her again, “If you need anything…”

“I know, the Grand Hotel,” she said with a smile and a gracious nod.

“Well, then, Miss,” Travis began as he turned to leave her.

“Savannah,” she muttered without thinking that a woman of her upbringing does not allow any man, let alone a stranger, address her with her given name.  Remembering this, she corrected, “Savannah Star.”

“Miss Star,” Travis said cordially.  “I am very pleased to have made your acquaintance.”

“As am I,” she agreed, dipping her head to the side graciously before turning toward the house.

She heard him remount his horse and urge it forward with a cluck of his tongue as she tripped up the stone stairway to the man who would now take her life into his hands.  An ominous clap of thunder was her initiative to hurry up the stairs and into the house, breezing by Diego without a word.  Up the winding grand staircase and out of his reach, she ran to her room and slammed the door.

She tiptoed to the window and pulled back the heavy drapes to watch the stranger slowly fade away from her life forever.  Gone was his gentle touch, his worried expression, his caring gestures.  The soft lines of his forehead and the tiny dimples that had shown themselves in the light of the storm would disappear with him and never return to her.

And his eyes, were they dark gray or brown?  The shadows of the trees seemed to have camouflaged them as he’d peered down at her.  She wished that she had memorized as much of him as she could in order to relive those precious moments stolen in the midst of the storm.  But, it seemed, all she had left of him was a distant memory and the muddled and wet slicker that she had dropped on her floor as she had ran into her room. 

She turned from the window and what could have been a better future if she had just had the nerve to defy her father’s will and let Travis Corbett take her far away from her confounded obligations.  Silly and fleeting dream that it was, she knew that it was all that would keep her alive for the years to come—and one that she would dwell upon for the rest of her life, if that is what it would take to keep her sanity intact.

Chapter Three

The early morning sun peeked between peach branches that were darkened by its approach in the previous night sky.  Its brilliance painted a multi-colored collage of pinks, oranges, reds, purples and deep blues upon the clouds that mingled on the horizon.  As it climbed slowly in the distance, its cheerful ascent did nothing to raise the spirits of the young woman who stood in utter misery on the veranda outside her bedroom.

Lost in her melancholy mood, she did not hear the sharp words of her long-time servant, Bessie, as the middle-aged black woman sashayed outside to reprimand her charge until the woman became irritated by Savannah’s ignoring her, “Missy! What’re you doin’ out heah?  You git inside an’ let me git you dressed.  You know yore papa don’ like you to be late for breakfast.  Now, you git yoreself back in heah and outta that mornin’ breeze. You’ll cetch yore death out there with nothin’ but yore nightdress on. A lady like yerself don’ need to be showin’ up to a formal breakfast with’ a red, sniffly nose.”

Savannah sighed deeply, her mood unchanged by Bessie’s angry scolding.  Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked past the portly older woman to sit primly at her dressing table, waiting quietly for her maid to come and help her dress her hair.

Below the veranda, just out of her line of sight, Travis Corbett lifted his booted foot and pushed himself from his position against the tree where he had leaned and watched the house all night long to insure himself that Diego Fernandez had not caused the young woman any harm.  Now that he knew that she was safe, he slipped back to the peach grove and retrieved his mount.  He steered the Palomino toward Atlanta to make plans for his vengeance upon the man that she had seemed so afraid of the night before. 

Quiet surrounded him while he lost himself in his thoughts on the path toward town, a stark contrast to the night that they had met in which blazing emotions mixed with the outbursts of thunder and lightning.  Fleeting thoughts of what could have happened between them if he’d have had the mind to take advantage of Savannah’s vulnerable situation flashed in his wandering mind, bringing a smile to his otherwise infuriated face. With rising ire, he shook those thoughts away and concentrated on the task that lay before him.

A sudden hush came over the room when the tall stranger entered the telegraph office in downtown Atlanta.  The six or seven souls who had milled about and conversed with abandon seemed to instantly become silent when his heavy footfalls echoed across the small room.  They all looked up to see if God Himself had come to take them to Jubilee when his gruff voice asked the clerk to send a telegram.  Then they all settled to quiet and muffled whispers while he leaned on the counter and called out the words to be sent. 

Travis turned on his elbow to address the people who stared at him and whispered behind cupped palms to their neighbors.  A smile showed them that he was not as harmful as he seemed and they smiled back as if he had forgiven them of their transgressions and therefore, had given them leave to continue as if he had not disturbed them.  His smile disappeared when the clerk returned with a reply.

“There will be a wait of a day or two,” the small, bald man said timidly from under his dark visor.  “It seems there is a line down around Texarkana.”

Inside, Travis fumed, but he smiled thankfully and nodded to the clerk, who let out a loud hiss of relief when the bulk of a man left the room.

He would wait, Travis told himself calmly as he passed the two men who whispered back and forth as they eyed the twin pistols on his hips.  That will give him time to go to the plantation where that Mexican bastard was holed up and finally have his revenge.

He made his way to the hotel and secured a room for three days just in case it took that long for his reply.  He wasn’t desperate to hear about how his ranch near Galveston was faring, but he knew that it had been at least five years since he had left it in the capable hands of his foreman and the old man’s wife, Abigail.  And since that time, he had only sent them a letter or two giving them an update on his progress to avenge his own wife’s murder.  Knowing that because of his constant journey, he would never hear back from them, he had not made an effort to wait for a reply. 

But, this time, something told him to wait.  He was never one to listen to his inner voice, the one that nagged him to give up this obsessive need to bleed that Mexican dry and laugh while he begged for forgiveness.  But, somewhere, deep inside him, he felt a tug from that lonesome ranch which he had made with his beloved wife, Melody.  Somehow, he knew that he needed to go back again even though he had not set foot on the long covered porch, which he had painstakingly built just for his new bride, in what seems like ages ago.

It called to him like a prairie wind on the grassy landscape, “Come back to me!”

But, still, he stayed away, fearful of the overwhelming pain that he knew would assault him the minute he rode beneath the arch that held the initials of the lovers who had built it.  Still, he put off walking into the modest two-story house that he had built with his own two hands.  And still, he agonized about stepping into the bedroom where they had shared so many wonderfully passionate nights.

Not since he had kissed her good-bye that fateful morning when he had started yet another long trip to seek out new buyers for Cox & Corbett Treasures & Trinkets, his family’s catalogue business, had he held a woman in his arms and felt the surge of love in his lonesome heart. 

But something inside him told him otherwise, for, not since last night in the storm, when he had held that frightened little butterfly, who had somehow made a place for herself in his hopeless heart in just those few brief moments that she had fluttered into his life, had he felt that familiar tug at his empty chest.  With all his might, he tried desperately to replace her face with that of his beloved Melody.  But, try as he might, the tiny, drenched woman-child held her ground in his mind and, by God, in his heart.  And, there, she remained, like a bolt of lightning that seared his aching heart, branding him with the longing to see her again, to touch her again, and to finally possess her as she had done with him.

After Bessie followed close behind Savannah from the veranda and into the girl’s bedroom, she reached for the stays of the girl’s morning gown in order to hasten the business of undressing her and then dressing her again in appropriate attire for the occasion.  She clucked her tongue and shook her kerchief-covered head before she scoffed, “I dee-clare, Missy, you’d think yore papa was askin’ you ta jump off a cliff.”

Her hands quickly went to work brushing out the girl’s long black hair until it shone with bright blue highlights that put the sunrise to shame.  Her brush stopped in mid-stroke when her charge retorted, “Well, it would get the same result.  It would take me away from my home, the people I love.  Why, I may never see Father again.”