Free Tides of Passion by Tracy Sumner

beans. The tent and, oh, I'll remember the rest later. I have a list somewhere. Rory and I'll sail over around noon or so. And don't forget your hat. Remember that awful sunburn you got last time?"
    "Holy Mother Mary, Papa, I won't forget my blessed hat." He slapped his knee. "What am I thinking? Why don't you put Miss Connor in that skiff and sail her over, too?" Caleb glanced over his shoulder, his expression eager, boyish to the extreme.
    How dissimilar he and Zach are, she thought.
    Zach shoved off the bars, swiping his index finger across his neck in a cutting motion and frantically shaking his head.
    Savannah smiled, holding Zach's gaze. "I would love to go, Mr. Garrett."
    "Oh, don't hold to the niceties." He waved his meaty fist at her. "Call me Caleb."
    "Then you must call me Savannah."
    "Pleased to."
    Zach threw himself into the chair behind his desk and dug the cargo book out with a clatter. "For God's sake, Cale, save some of that sugar for your coffee in the morning, why don't you."
    Savannah and Caleb turned in unison, looked at each other, and laughed. "What's gotten into you, Constance? How uncharitable you're being toward a visitor to our lovely town. Isn't being a one-man welcome committee part of your job?"
    Zach lifted his head, his eyes narrowing. "Miss Connor." Irish was on the tip of his tongue. She just knew it. "Of course I'd be delighted to haul you out to Devil Island for the picnic."
    Caleb slipped his arm through hers and tugged her toward the door. "If you want to have any fun tomorrow, darling, avoid Old Starchy, that'd be my advice. Now come on, you're late meeting your gaggle over at Christabel's restaurant."
    Glancing into Caleb's amused gaze, she noted that he indeed shared the Garrett grays. "How do you know?"
    "Ah, heck, in this town everyone knows everything."
    She looked over her shoulder as Caleb ushered her through the doorway. Zach sat still as a stone, watching her with a cool expression.
    Careful , the look said.
    If she had an ounce of common sense, she would heed the warning instead of leaving his office wondering when she'd get to kiss him again.
    * * *
    "I'm going to decline Caleb's offer."
    Elle glanced up from her books, a pencil clamped between her teeth. "Wgy." She snatched the pencil out. "What?"
    "The picnic."
    "Oh. I'll lend you a bathing costume. And I'm bringing enough food for an army. Noah and I are returning to South Carolina the day after to prepare for the fall semester, and I feel like you and I haven't spent any time together. Suffering cats, only time talking about this worthless school."
    Savannah made a notation beside a student's name and struck through another whose husband had forced her to withdraw from classes. She planned to pay him a visit at his place of employment next week. "You love it. Don't try to fool me. Besides, I'm thrilled to have the opportunity; I'm hoping the school will revive my enthusiasm for the cause."
    "Vannie, I can't tell you how grateful I am that you came down here to manage and teach until I finish my degree in the spring."
    Reviewing the small list of students, Savannah sighed. "Just don't expect me to make even an infinitesimal profit." She frowned, noting that some had paid for classes with an exchange of services. A seamstress and a piano teacher. "After books and materials, make that any profit."
    Elle propped her chin on her palm. "You have access to the account. Use it."
    "When did money cease to be an issue?"
    Elle giggled, a sound Savannah had only heard her friend make after marrying. If giggling was a requirement of being in love, she would chose not, thank you very much. "My darling husband supports my efforts to enrich the lives of the women in this town, Vannie. Of course, he called it a loan. I expect I won't have to pay him back."
    "Hmmm. I imagine not."
    "Savannah, dear? Have you—have you thought any more about our conversation?"
    Savannah calculated a row of numbers and noted the total. "Pitiful excuse for a