Christmas at the Jekyll Island Club by Blossom Turner

Author:Blossom Turner [Turner, Blossom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wild Heart Books
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Savannah stepped onto the Jekyll Island steamer. A crisp breeze whipped a few strands of her upswept hair free of its pins. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. It was a tad cooler than she would’ve preferred for a boat trip, but the cerulean-blue sky stretching above beckoned her to the sides of the rail rather than the warmth of the inside.

The pungent mixture of marshland, fish, and sea salt filled her senses. Savannah drew in a deep breath. There was something about that smell that beckoned her to worlds beyond the borders of what she knew.

The boat slowly reversed from the dock and slipped into the deeper murky waters of the Jekyll River. They were off, and Savannah had high hopes for the afternoon. She was on a mission to find that one perfect gift that suited the man she had come to know. She had no idea what it would be but was confident it would present itself.

“Do you mind if I slip inside, my lady?” Emily asked. “These older bones are rather on the chilly side.”

“Of course. I’m not sure how long I’ll last out here, but I love the wind on my face.” Savannah turned her attention to the banks of the river as she looked for wildlife.

“What are you doing here?” The rich timber of Joseph’s voice startled her.

Savannah turned with an instant smile to the man beside her. “I guess I could ask you the same.” A weakness in the hollow of her knees made her grip the rail with renewed vigor.

“This is a welcome treat. Me, you, and the Marshes of Glynn.” His dimples danced.

A flush of heat worked up from her neck to her face. “We are not quite to the marsh land yet, but I’m looking for wildlife.” She ripped her gaze from his and scanned the riverbank to find her equilibrium.

“There.” Joseph pointed. “A blue heron.”

Savannah followed the direction of his strong arm. The bird high-stepped through the shallow waters with its yellow beak pointed down.

“It’s stalking its next meal.”

Savannah giggled. “Stalking. That’s a weird choice of words. Is that what you’re doing to me?”

“Ha. I could ask the same of you. When did you arrange to make this trip?”

Savannah didn’t care to answer him and give away her secret.

“Uh-ha, I can tell by that little grin of yours that your plans are most recent. I scheduled this with Captain Clark over a week ago.”

“Fine, then. But I assure you, I have no need to stalk any man.” She turned her head to the water with a decided jerk.

His laugh echoed across the water. “No, I don’t suppose you do, pretty lady.”

Quiet descended between them as the boat sliced through the calm waters of the tidal creek. The Marshes of Glynn spread out for miles on both sides. The cordgrass swayed in the breeze like a golden sea of wheat.

“Sidney Lanier wrote a beautiful poem about this very place called The Marshes of Glynn. Have you ever read it?” Joseph asked.

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