Forget Me Never by Sable Hunter (books successful people read txt) 📗

missed being touched.  Sometimes she ran her own hands over her own body and hugged herself tightly, just to get the illusion of being held  – but it was a sad substitute for another human being, especially one that you loved.

“What’s special about the well?”  His further implication that they’d be communicating beyond today made Savannah’s heart jump.

“It was dug in the early 1800’s by the slaves at Evermore.  The story that has been passed down is that the lady of the house didn’t want to drink river water, so they had an old shaman slave use a dousing rod to find sweet well water.  It’s said that he put a spell on the water.  Many people still believe that old well is magical.”  He really wasn’t making that up either.  Since he had seen Savannah’s face in the black depths, he had heard of folks traveling from New Orleans and even farther to draw water from the well to use for scrying.

“I’d love to hear about the well and anything else like that you can think to share.  We’re always photographing and documenting historical places.  In fact, I have two task force projects that will take me down close to Evermore in a few days.  I’m going to visit Ms. Selma Smith.  She’s helping me archive some original Cajun music recordings from the early nineteen thirties and she’s going to introduce me to Mrs. Boudreaux who is almost a hundred years old.  I’m told that she can tell some fantastic stories and her memory is still as sharp as a tack.”

Selma Smith!  He hadn’t heard that name in ages.  “Would you believe that I know Ms. Smith?  She and my grandfather useI’d lovdate.”  How thankful he was that they had never married.  It had been close for a while, but Patrick had stayed out of it.  At least he never had to live with Izzy and Gertrude.

“Wow, you’ll have to tell me how to get on her good side.  I hear she’s a bit eccentric.”

They were almost to the door.  Patrick was enjoying her so much; he wanted the hands of time to slow down so he could spend as much time with Savannah as possible.  “I’ve lived in south Louisiana all my life, except the time I have been in the military, so I know a lot of the local characters and tall tales.  I’d be glad to help you; it seems maybe we could help each other.  What do you think?”  Research and legends were interesting, no doubt about it.  But there were other things in which he was far more interested – how her lips tasted, how she would feel under him and what sounds she would make as he made her cum.  Yes, Savannah was fascinating.  Their turn came to enter and Patrick fell into step with her, but again she foiled his gentlemanly manners by opening the door of the restaurant for him.  “Do you lead when you dance?” he asked her, amused.

“I’m not sure,” she answered softly.  “I’ve never danced with anyone.”

            “Well, that’s a shame.  A beautiful girl like you has every reason to dance.  Is it against your religion?”

“No, nothing like that.”  The waiter came to greet them, preventing her from having to say more.

“We’d like to sit outside on the patio if there’s room,” Patrick spoke up.  As they were led to the rear of the building, he placed a protective hand on her shoulder.  “You look very pretty; I like that dress.”  He loved to see a woman in a dress.  Jeans and pants had their place, but a feminine outfit just did something to his libido.  She didn’t flinch from his touch, but she did look at him with questions in her eyes.  He pulled her chair out before the other man had a chance, ordered their food and drinks and gave the guy a dirty look for checking out Savannah’s legs.

“I prefer dresses like this; they’re cooler.  Cotton is my favorite fabric,” she answered simply.  Cotton was her favorite fabric?  Gracious!  Savannah knew she was acting like a dork.  Perhaps it would be safer to discuss his research.  She cleared her throat, placed her napkin on her lap and pulled the big book in front of her.  “The Seven Ships contains the account of the Acadians’ arrival in Louisiana.  It has a more complete list of the passengers on each ship than the memorial’s Wall of Names does and it also tells where they settled.  If any of your relatives came here during the deportation, I can find record of them here.”  Heck, this was hard.  Knowing he was probably confused at her behavior, she leaned near to him and confided.  “I’m sorry, Patrick.  This is unlike me.  Usually, I act like I’m at least halfway intelligent.”

He didn’t know what was up, but she didn’t have anything to apologize for and he said so.  “Sweetheart, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here with you.  You have nothing to be sorry for.  Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

She bit her lower lip, bowed her head and spoke softly.  “Nothing’s wrong.  I’m just feeling a bit overwhelmed.  I know this is, at the most, a business luncheon, but it’s the first time I’ve been out to eat with a man in a social setting.  I’m enjoying it very much.  And I want to thank you for coming with me.  It’s very nice of you.”

“Are you kidding me?  You’ve never been on a date?”  As soon as he said the words, he watched her face fall.  Damn!  He hadn’t meant to embarrass her.

“No, I haven’t.”  He had to bend close to hear what she was saying.  “It’s a long story; one I’d rather not go into.”

What the hell!  It was every woman’s birthright to be cherished and wooed, especially a beautiful woman like Savannah.  And here she was thanking him for coming with her to a fried fish joint.  He wanted to ask how that could be, but he could