Each Time We Love Read Free Page B

after a hard life spent working in the
cane and cotton fields, he had an obvious frailty about him.
    Bodene looked discomforted. When he was a child, Sam had
outfoxed him and tanned his backside more times than he cared to think
about. And despite his age, the old man would prove to be a
surprisingly tough and tricky opponent if the need arose.
    "Sorry, Sam—I didn't mean to belittle your abilities," Bodene
apologized wryly. "It's just that I go half mad when I think of her up
here, living God knows how! When she could be safe in New Orleans or
with Elizabeth."
    Savannah snorted. "Live with my mother?" "She might yearn for
respectability, but it doesn't interest me—
especially
not if it involves marriage to that earnest young shopkeeper she's been
wishing on me since I was eighteen!"
    Bodene grimaced. Elizabeth O'Rourke, Savanna's mother, was
undoubtedly one of the sweetest, gentlest women alive, but having
turned her back on the genteel world of her birth, she craved
respectability for her daughter. Heedless of Savanna's outraged
arguments, Elizabeth just couldn't get it through her head that her
daughter
really
didn't want to marry and didn't
give a damn about respectability.
    "Look," he began placatingly, "could we please go inside and
talk?" His eyes hardened and he muttered, "And would you please put
that damn rifle down before we both do something we're going to regret?"
    An impish grin suddenly curved Savanna's full mouth. "Such as
you forcing me to shoot you!"
    Bodene grinned back. "
Exactly
!"
    She stared at him for a long moment, then carelessly swung the
rifle over her slim shoulder. "You can come inside, but I'm warning
you—no tricks! I'm not going to let you try to cheat me out of the
tavern, like you tried to do the last time you were here!"
    Turning away, she strode rapidly over to the building with the
sign and mounted the steps, then crossed the rickety porch and
disappeared inside.
    The inside of the building belied its shabby exterior,
although it certainly was not elegantly appointed. Some effort,
however, had gone into making it not only habitable, but comfortable as
well. It was astoundingly clean; the wooden floors were scrubbed and
had been painstakingly bleached to a soft white patina; a colorful
quilt adorned one rough wall, and the few pine tables and chairs which
were scattered about gleamed from frequent polishing. Against the back
wall there was a long oak counter and behind it, neatly arranged, stood
several gleaming bottles of liquor and various glasses and mugs. The
scent of a spicy venison stew simmering in the kitchen behind the
tavern, which was attached to the main building by a dogtrot, wafted
tantalizingly in the air.
    The aromatic smell of the stew reminded Bodene that he hadn't
eaten since very early that morning, and shrugging out of his jacket,
he murmured, "Is there any chance that you will feed me before we start
arguing again?"
    Standing behind the counter and deftly pouring a glass of
whiskey, Savanna felt her lips twitch. Covertly she studied her cousin
as he pulled out a chair and made himself comfortable, his long legs
stretched negligently in front of him, his wide shoulders resting
easily against the back of the chair. He looked supremely confident,
very sure of himself, and Savanna toyed idly with the notion of
throwing the whiskey in his handsome face, but promptly discarded
it—Bodene's vengeance was always swift and exceedingly uncomfortable!
    Thinking of the devilish revenges they had wreaked on each
other through the years, Savanna finally let the grin that had been
tugging at her lips have its way.
Dios!
How she
had missed him and his infuriatingly overbearing ways!
    Placing the whiskey beside him on the table, she asked
curiously, "Did it ever even occur to you that I might really shoot
you?"
    Bodene took a long, appreciative sip of the liquor before he
answered. His dark eyes full of laughter, he looked up at her and
murmured, "In a rage, without a doubt! But