For Love Alone (Secrets of Savannah Book 4)

by Belle Calhoune

  Morgan puttered around the kitchen and placed something in the microwave. Her work was all-consuming. And when she was in work-mode she resembled a whirlwind. It was passion, he realized. Morgan felt passionately about being a chef. Her every action spoke of her devotion to her craft. What would it be like, he wondered, to feel so over the moon about your profession? He certainly didn’t feel that way about being an executive at the family business. For him, it was a responsibility and a paycheck—an obligation toward the family legacy. It wasn’t a calling.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” Morgan said, placing a plate down in front of him filled with salmon croquettes, green beans and a cup of soup.

  His stomach grumbled in appreciation. “Oh, I’ve been dreaming about tasting this meal. Thanks for heating this up for me.” He reached for his fork and dug in to the salmon croquette. He wasn’t a bit surprised at the way it melted in his mouth. “This is just as amazing as I thought it would be. You really delivered the goods today, Morgan.”

  Morgan sat down next to him. “It went really well. And the cookies were the icing on the cake. Pardon the culinary pun.”

  “I know you’re relieved. Honestly, I think you would have been fine without me. You’re that good, Morgan.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say. Your vote of confidence means a lot to me.” Morgan reached over and gently squeezed his hand. “Your presence here today gave me the push I needed. Just knowing that I wasn’t alone in this…it meant the world to me.” There was a tenderness in Morgan’s voice that he hadn’t ever heard before. His chest tightened. She was opening up to him, blooming like a rose in springtime.

  “Remember what I said to you the other night about sticking by you for the long haul. I meant it, baby. I’ll stand by you through burnt quiches, soggy pancakes and deflated soufflés.”

  “That means everything to me, although I hope I don’t have deflated soufflés. Those are heartbreaking for chefs.”

  “No broken hearts allowed,” Luke said, knowing in a million years he would never hurt Morgan. Or at least he liked to think he wouldn’t. He wasn’t a perfect man, but his love for Morgan felt perfect.

  Luke untied the apron Morgan had insisted upon him wearing to protect his clothing from being damaged. He took the apron off and placed it down on the table.

  “Oops,” Morgan said, covering her grin with her hand. “I think some of the soup got on your shirt.”

  Luke looked down at his white business shirt. There was a brownish stain staring back at him. Against the white shirt, it was as plain as the nose on his face.

  He shrugged. “Hmm. I thought the apron covered me.”

  “And I really did get a kick out of seeing you in that apron.” Morgan smiled at him, making him not give a hoot about ruining his favorite work shirt.

  “I’m happy Callie didn’t see me. She might have taken photos and blackmailed me forever about it,” he teased. Growing up, Callie had always complained about him not lifting a finger around the house. Because they’d had maids and cooks in their employ, Luke had been a bit spoiled. At this moment he regretted not being able to cook.

  “I may be able to help you out.” She stood up from the table and began rummaging in the drawers and cupboards. A few minutes later she had a small dish filled with a white concoction.

  “Ta dah!” she announced as she bent down and began blotting his shirt with the solution.

  “What is this?” he asked, enjoying her nearness and the sweet smell of her hair—a flowery scent that seemed to hover around her like a halo. He could sit here all day like this, with Morgan fussing over him.

  “It’s a homemade remedy for stains. Hydrogen peroxide, baking soda and a little dish detergent.” She put her fingers to her perfectly-shaped ruby lips. “Shh. It’s one of Mama’s family secrets.”

  “I promise not to tell,” he said with a chuckle. “Hey! Any more of those chocolate chip cookies left?”

  Morgan walked over toward the stove and pulled out a cookie tin. She made her way back to the table and handed it to him. “For you. I stashed some away for you as a small reward. Take them home with you.”

  Luke took the tin and immediately opened it. He reached in and pulled out an over-sized cookie, immediately taking a bite of it. He closed his eyes and let out a moan of appreciation. “Mmm. These are killer!”

  “I can’t thank you enough for helping me out today. Little did you know what was in store for you when you walked in here today.”

  Luke nodded. “Truth is, you provided me with a much-needed distraction today.”

  “Why today? Is something going on at Duvall?” Morgan’s brow was now furrowed. Concern flared in her russet-colored eyes.

  Luke hesitated for a moment. Morgan was on such a high after the successful lunch service. He didn’t want to bring the vibe down, although he did need to get this off his chest. When it came to the beloved sister he’d lost, Luke usually kept his feelings hidden away. For him, it was a physic wound that most people couldn’t relate to. Morgan was different though.

  “It’s the anniversary of Rachel’s death.” The words tumbled out of his mouth.

  “Oh, Luke. I’m so sorry. I knew it was this month, but I’d forgotten the date.” She reached out and grabbed ahold of his hand. Tears shimmered in her eyes.

  Luke heaved a tremendous sigh. “I don’t know why it hasn’t gotten any easier over the years. I still remember that day in vivid detail. I still ask myself what I could have done to change the course of events.”

  Morgan sent him a pointed look and raised an eyebrow.

  “What’s with that look? Do you know something I don’t?” Luke asked.

  Morgan nodded, her black hair swirling around her shoulders. “It’s no small wonder you’re still stuck in the past regarding the accident. I think you feel responsible.” Morgan blurted out the words.

  Luke sucked in a deep breath. Discussing Rachel was difficult, which was the main reason he tried to avoid it. For the most part it was easy to get away with, since she’d died at such a young age. Sadly, most of his friends had almost forgotten she had ever existed. But not Morgan. Never Morgan. She was one of the few people in the world he trusted with his remembrances about his sister. Callie—who had been adopted after Rachel’s death—hadn’t known Rachel. Come to think of it, the topic of his deceased sibling wasn’t something he and Callie had ever discussed more than a handful of times.

  He’d never imagined that Morgan would hit upon his secret, particularly when no one in his family ever had sensed it. And if they had, not a single one had broached the matter with him. He did feel responsible. And over the years that sensation had never left him. Luke had tried to stuff it down, stomp on it, bury it. But it always came back to him.

  “Come on, Luke.” She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the back door of the kitchen.

  “Hey! Where are you taking me? Don’t you have to finish up around here?”

  “Nope.” She grinned at him. “Lunch has been served. Dishes have been cleared. I only have to map out tomorrow’s meals and I’ve already decided to serve flapjacks, eggs benedict, fruit cocktail and ham for breakfast. Lunch will be tortellini, a bacon and kale salad, buttermilk biscuits and peach cobbler.” Whenever Morgan talked about food, her voice became really animated and she threw her hands in the air with enthusiasm.

  Luke winked at her. “If I wasn’t already crazy about you, your skill in creating mouth-watering meals would serve as a huge incentive.”

  “Mama always said that a way to man’s heart was through his stomach.”

  “Oh, I see. That was your Mama who said that?” Luke asked with a chuckle. “It couldn’t have been mine since she never learned to cook. Although the poor thing still thinks everyone believes she cooks the delicious meals that come out of our kitchen.”

  Morgan threw back her head and whooped with laughter. It was a well-known fact in Savannah that Davinia Duvall relied heavily on cooks who worked in the home and prepared meals for the
family.

  Once Morgan wrenched the back door open, they were bathed in sunlight. Their hands were still linked, and as if by instinct, they began walking toward the beach, which was only a stone’s throw away from Savannah House. Sea, sun and sand beckoned them.

  Morgan let go of his hand and began running toward the beach. She turned around and playfully called out to him to catch up to her. She motioned wildly with her hands. Luke raced to reach Morgan’s side. He stopped midway as his breathing became ragged. His heart seemed to be racing faster than usual. Ever since the accident and his hospitalization, he’d been feeling off-kilter. Not like his usual self. As Callie had suggested, he really needed to check in with his primary care physician about this lingering feeling of malaise. It was starting to get on his nerves.

  By the time he caught up with Morgan, she had climbed to the top of the bright red lifeguard’s station. She threw her arms wide open and yelled out, “Thank you Lord for this glorious day and for allowing us to experience it together.”

  “Amen,” he shouted up at the heavens. He loved Morgan’s exuberance. Luke looked up at her, admiring the graceful slope of her neck, her stunning features and her warm, expressive eyes. At this very moment he saw nothing but happiness in their depths. Her joy was contagious. He scrambled up the ladder and joined her. Luke looked out over the endless miles of ocean and sand. Nothing was more beautiful than the shores of Tybee Island. A feeling of gratitude rose up inside him. He was blessed to be here sharing this moment with the woman he loved.

  Morgan turned toward him, a huge smile etched on her face as she looked up at him. Something in her eyes invited him to kiss her. It was a subtle look, and he could be mistaken about it, but he didn’t think so. Lord knows that he didn’t need an excuse to do it, but the look in Morgan’s eyes compelled him to act. He placed his hands around Morgan’s waist and gently pulled her toward him, lowering his lips toward hers as the rushing roar of the ocean pounded in his ears.

  “It’s hard to trust someone not to break your heart. It’s hard to have blind faith in another human being. But the alternative is far worse. Walking away from love.”

  Olivia Rawlings

  Chapter Five

  Morgan could have sworn she heard a symphony playing as Luke’s lips greeted her own in a tender, searing kiss. She clung to his shirt to ground herself, kissing him back with equal measure as the wind whipped all around them. She wasn’t hiding anymore. Not her feelings. Not her need to kiss Luke and shower him with affection. Not her belief that was growing stronger every day. The belief that she could have a happy ending with Luke.

  Oh it had been so long since she’d been kissed by Luke. And now twice in one day! In the last few years she hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone else. Not even when she’d been living in the city of light, one of the most romantic places in the world. Morgan had gone out on a few dates, but they had all had a platonic vibe. Luke had never strayed far from her thoughts. Or her heart.

  And now he was back in her life. He was hers again. And he was melting her heart with his sweet, tender kisses. She was flying high, soaring way above the clouds as Luke’s lips moved over hers. She didn’t want this moment to end. She’d give anything if it could go on and on.

  As they finally drew apart, a sigh of contentment slipped past Morgan’s lips. If anyone had told her a few weeks ago that she would be kissing Luke on Savannah beach, she might have called them crazy. So much had changed in such a short time!

  Hope floated in the air around them.

  “Two kisses in one day. You’re going to spoil me if you’re not careful.” Her tone was light and airy. She felt shimmery and golden. Brighter than the sun. It was all because of Luke. And Savannah House. Everything in her life felt so much richer.

  It was great to feel this way. Because there was another side of her. Quiet. Wary. Introspective. That was the Morgan who had ended things with him when all of her doubts and fears came crashing to the surface. On the inside Morgan knew she was still the little girl whose father had driven away from her and never looked back.

  “That’s the type of spoiling I’ll never mind,” Luke said, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Thanks for forcing me outside in the sunshine. It makes everything feel better.”

  Rachel. Although Morgan knew that sunshine couldn’t cure grief and guilt, she’d always believed that it helped ease a weary soul. “I know today can’t be easy,” she said. Something flickered in his eyes, and for a moment she glimpsed a flash of pain.

  Luke heaved a tremendous sigh. “No it’s not easy at all. It still hurts. It still gnaws at me.” He clenched his teeth. A fierce expression was etched on his face.

  Oh how she wished she could wrap her arms around him and absorb all of the guilt and torment and grief. Luke was the most wonderful, compassionate man in the world. If she could lift his burden. She would do so in a heartbeat.

  Dear Lord, please ease Luke’s pain. If possible, let me be an instrument of healing. I would move mountains for this man. He’s given so much to me—withstood so much for me. Please give me an opportunity to help him heal.

  “Why do you feel so guilty?” She blurted out the question without being able to stop herself.

  Truthfully, Morgan wanted to ask Luke a dozen questions or more. There was so much she didn’t know. Rachel Duvall was not a topic that had ever been discussed amongst her peer group growing up in Savannah. She couldn’t remember kids ever discussing it, most likely because they had all been too young to even fathom such unimaginable tragedy. A few times Callie had brought it up in passing, but even Callie hadn’t known Rachel. Callie had been the child adopted in the aftermath of the Duvall family tragedy. If Morgan had to guess, she would wager Callie felt uncomfortable talking about the sibling she’d never known.

  Because Morgan loved Luke so dearly, she needed to know why Rachel’s death was resting so heavily on his heart. Grief was a journey filled with valleys and hills. It was unpredictable and agonizing. Although she was no expert, Luke’s pain was tied up in something more than loss.

  Luke stared back at her with glassy eyes. “We were on vacation in the Caribbean. Every year my parents took us somewhere tropical. On this trip it was St. Lucia. I remember thinking it was the perfect vacation. I was almost seven. Rachel was just five-years-old.” He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “She was so funny and lively. You couldn’t contain her. My family stopped trying after a while because she was larger than life. Everything I did, Rachel wanted to do. She thought I hung the moon.” His voice became thick with emotion.

  “Of course. You were her big brother,” Morgan whispered. She had a vague memory of Rachel running after Luke at a birthday party. With auburn hair and blue eyes, Rachel had been a sweet and beautiful little girl.

  “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “And she was just about the most annoying little sister on the planet. But when she wasn’t being annoying she was just about perfect. Smart. Sassy. Loyal. I was crazy about her.”

  He stopped talking for a moment. Morgan sensed he didn’t want to go any further into his explanation of Rachel’s death. She would never force him to talk about it, but she was seeking understanding about why he felt so responsible. Information about the circumstances of his sister’s death would help her understand.

  “The day before Rachel drowned we went swimming at the resort. I could swim like a fish, but Rachel struggled. My parents made her wear one of those little swimmer’s vests that kept you afloat. I teased her about it for most of the time we were in the pool. She was so mad. And because she got under my skin sometimes that was the goal. To annoy Rachel.” He let out a ragged sigh. “The next day we were eating breakfast at the resort when all of a sudden we heard screams from the pool area. One of the guests had spotted…a child in the pool face down. My parents realized Rachel had left the table and they began to frantically run toward the pool. I didn’t move. I was frozen. I knew before I heard my mother’s screams that it was Rachel. I just knew it.”


  “But Luke that’s not your fault! It’s terrible and tragic, but you aren’t responsible.”

  “She wasn’t wearing that vest because of me. Because she wanted to be a big girl and show us that she could swim without it.”

  “You don’t know that!” she said fiercely. “You’ve created this storyline in your head and the more you repeat it, the more it becomes entrenched in your mind. Five-year-olds do silly, unpredictable things sometimes. They’re not thinking about life and death. Maybe she was bored and snuck off to cool off. Perhaps she took off the vest and then fell in. Loss is heart wrenching and confusing and tragic, but when it comes down to it, blaming yourself is way off the mark, Luke.”

  Luke shook his head. “When I think about her drowning like that…all alone in that pool it guts me. Maybe she cried for help or felt scared. It just shatters me.”

  “Some things stick with us, no matter how we try to forget them. Losing Rachel that way is horrific. But I hate the fact that you’re carrying this on your shoulders. It isn’t right. And there’s something called survivor’s guilt where people who have gone through a tragic loss blame themselves.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I’ve read about that. It sounds like what I’m doing by holding myself responsible, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Yes, it does. Where does the blame game end? What about your parents? It’s a parental responsibility to watch a child that age at a resort. Would it be fair to blame them? What about the resort itself? Someone should have locked up the pool area to make sure no child could go in the pool unsupervised. Do you blame them? And where were the lifeguards? And since we’re blaming everyone why don’t we just blame God while we’re at it? How could God have allowed that to happen?”

  Tears misted in his eyes. “When you put it like that, it doesn’t make any sense to blame myself. And I’ve asked God so many times how He could have failed Rachel in her time of need.”