by Dora Hiers
“That may be true but not necessarily.” Memories surfaced to taunt her, and Sierra gulped down the emotion that clogged her airway. Who was she kidding?
“I’m sure Aurora will miss her daddy fiercely at first, and it might take some time to work things out, but hopefully they’ll get to a point where everybody’s happy.”
Happy? Right. More like tolerate it. Or just accept the fact that life dealt harsh blows sometimes and just deal with it. But it sucked not to feel secure in a parent’s love.
She could relate. Her parents had divorced when she was two. For eight years, she’d been bounced around between them, mostly as a bargaining chip, until finally being squeezed out when they each remarried and other children came along. Other children that they loved more than Sierra. Other children that hadn’t made the same stupid mistakes as her.
With burning eyes, Sierra flipped the blinker on and slowed down as traffic congested around the school. She pulled into the drop off lane, where cars only crawled along every few seconds.
Why did Violet pick today, now, for this type of chat? Not only would Violet be hopping out of the car in under a handful of minutes, but Sierra was leaving for the mountains this afternoon.
She tamped down the tiny sliver of annoyance. She never wanted Violet to feel like her mom was too busy or unavailable for conversation. Besides Wilma, Sierra was the only person in Violet’s world who she could depend on.
“Why doesn’t my dad ever come to see me?” Violet’s small frame shrunk against the passenger door, still and unmoving, while she waited for Sierra’s response.
“Oh, Violet.” Her heart broke for her daughter. So that’s what this was all about. Violet asked about her father occasionally, but those times dwindled with every year that passed.
Guess today was her lucky day.
Sierra shook her head, anger at her daughter’s father burning in her chest, warring with the ache to soothe her daughter’s pain. If only that were possible. “I’m so sorry, honey. But I haven’t spoken to your father since I told him I was pregnant. I don’t know the answer to that.”
There was a lot she could say about the subject, but she refused. There was no need for Violet to know that she’d ended up in the emergency clinic after she’d told Steve she was pregnant.
And what if Violet’s father had changed and would one day want to become part of his daughter’s life? She wouldn’t deny him access to Violet’s life, but only after he’d proved to Sierra that he’d changed. Until then, she would never allow Violet to be with him unsupervised. But that wasn’t likely since Violet was now thirteen, and she had yet to hear from the man, even though he still lived in the area, about forty minutes away.
“I told Aurora that not having her dad around can’t be all bad. I mean, really? Who needs an extra adult in the house to boss you around?” Violet’s watery eyes and weak voice belied her words, and then she turned to stare out the passenger window, arms crossed over her chest.
Poor thing. Sierra couldn’t stop the huge sigh from rattling through her lungs. She had no maternal words of wisdom to offer, no experience with marital bliss other than the occasional glimpse of Camdon’s siblings with their new spouses.
She moved up in line, edging the car next to the sidewalk. When Violet’s fingers poised around the doorknob, Sierra did what came naturally when she didn’t know how to respond. She forced her lips into a smile, even though her heart was far from it. “I love you, Violet. And Wilma loves you. That’s enough, isn’t it?”
Her daughter nodded. “Yeah. But it might be kinda nice to have a dad. A guy like Camdon.” The door slammed. Violet turned and waved then filed in with the rest of the students heading to class.
A dad? A guy like Camdon?
The air squeezed out of Sierra’s lungs, and she wilted against the seat.
Camdon? Guess she should have expected that. Camdon spent a lot of time with them. It was only natural that Violet would mention him as a possibility. But that’s all Camdon was…a friend.
Yep. Violet and Sierra would have that heart-to-heart as soon as she got back home. She needed to set her daughter straight on a few things.
A honk startled her. She stepped on the gas, smiling, shaking her head.
Camdon. A dad?
4
What was taking him so long? He always arrived at the last minute, but this? Sierra stole a quick glance at her phone, checking the time for oh, what, the fifteenth time since the bus driver had issued the five-minute warning? The luggage was already loaded, and most of the passengers had already boarded. Beyond last minute, even for Camdon.
“Mind the steps, Ms. Esther. They’re a bit steep.” Sierra whipped the walker with the crazy design, black and white racing stripes on the rubber balls at the bottom, out of the way and extended her hand for the old dear. At eighty-four, Ms. Esther was the oldest senior taking the tour and would require a bit of extra attention.
Not a problem. If Camdon showed up. What was keeping him? She glanced toward the drive heading into the Rec Center. Still no sign of him.
“Looks like your guy’s not gonna make it. Remember what I’ve always said.” Wilma was next in line to board the bus, waiting patiently for Ms. Esther to manage the steps.
How could she forget? Since the very night Wilma had taken her in, her grandmother had drilled it into her head that men would always leave her in the lurch. And Wilma’s bitterness came from firsthand experience. Her husband had ditched her after twenty-five years of marriage for a woman in her twenties.
Sierra trusted her grandmother. Wilma was the only family member who’d stood by her, offering a place to stay and a helping hand, after Sierra found out she was pregnant. When everyone else had written her off.
Sierra held out a hand to help her grandma up, disappointment swirling like angry gray clouds over the day. She’d thought she could trust Camdon to keep his word. But it looked like Wilma was right. Again.
A huge sigh rippled from her chest. First the discussion with Violet this morning about her dad, and now Camdon’s no-show.
“He’s not my guy.” Was all she could scrounge up for a response.
Beady eyes rolled, and Sierra almost missed the fact that her grandma was wearing something besides sweatpants. She did a double take.
“Nice, Wilma. I like the new look.” Sierra’s gaze took in the dressy teal pants paired with a snazzy camel colored sweater that matched perfectly. Something besides her grandmother’s usual baggy pants, and they actually matched? What was up with that?
A flush coated her grandma’s neck and worked its way up to her hollow cheeks. “No need to draw attention to it, missy.”
With eyebrows hiking high on her forehead, she bit her bottom lip to hide the smile that threatened to take over her face.
“Looks like your guy made it after all. Just barely.” Wilma paused in the bus stairwell, her body angled, studying the entrance to the parking lot.
Sierra whipped around just in time to see Camdon maneuver his small car into a parking spot. A fierce look of determination chiseled his face as the car jerked to a stop. In seconds, he was hustling her way with a duffle hiked over a shoulder.
When he reached the bus, he blew out a breath and grinned, relief sliding across his features. “Phew! Made it. Just in time by the looks of it.”
“Barely. You’re the last one. Thought you’d be running behind the bus to catch up with us.”
He chuckled. “That would be a first. As much as I like to run, I think I would have followed in my car.”
“When you finally tie the knot, Camdon Lambright, some woman will definitely need to get used to waiting,” she teased. Relief made her knees wobbly.
“I think she already is.” Camdon’s green-eyed gaze never wavered.
She blinked. This day was growing stranger by the minute. She could’ve sworn he—
“Time to hit the road.” The bus driver’s scratchy voice boomed from behind, startling her.
She jumped an
d turned around to see that Wilma had already disappeared into the bowels of the bus.
“You heard the man. Time to head to the mountains and have some fun.” Camdon took her elbow, guiding her toward the steps and gesturing for her to go first.
“Thanks.” Flustered, she made her way up the stairs and into the bus. What did he mean by that comment…I think she already is?
The last time she remembered him saying anything about a date…had it been a couple years since he’d taken Susan out? Maybe longer. They’d gone out over the summer. Was he dating Susan again? Or did he have a girlfriend on the sly?
Camdon was her best friend. It wasn’t like him to keep secrets. And sheesh. They spent most of their time off together. How could he hide a relationship from her?
****
Camdon pulled the electronic tablet out of his duffel bag and tucked it under his chin while he hefted the bag into the overhead compartment. He took his time cramming the bag into the tiny cubicle, noting that Sierra settled in behind the driver, next to Ms. Martha. The only available seat left was next to Ms. Esther, across from them.
Thank You, God, for small favors, but couldn’t you have helped a guy out by letting the two elderly women sit in the same seat? You’re killing me here.
He snapped the lid to the compartment closed, took the tablet out from under his chin, and faced his partner for the next few hours. “Good morning, Ms. Esther.” He patted the elderly woman’s shoulder with his free hand. “You’re looking absolutely radiant this morning.”
“What did you say?” Ms. Esther’s voice came out painfully loud. He restrained himself from wincing, barely.
“I said you’re looking absolutely radiant this morning.” He tried not to shout, but even if he did, it probably wouldn’t cover the rumble of senior voices coming from the back of the bus.
“Why, thank you, young man. That’s awfully sweet of you to say.”
He smiled and slid in next to her, directly across from Sierra. He glanced over at her.
Her jaw was slack, her mouth wide open, wonder still coating her jade irises. When she locked gazes with him, she clamped her jaw tight and turned away to stare straight ahead.
That only made his smile grow wider. Actually, her response to his comment couldn’t have pleased him more. The way her dark eyebrows hiked way up on her creamy forehead to hide behind a lock of midnight black hair, and the shock that filled her forest green eyes…satisfying. And Sierra at a loss for words? Priceless.
Phase I was off to a great start. He breathed a silent prayer of thanks. Now if he could just stop dwelling on the last council meeting and the urgent meeting the city manager had called right before he’d had to rush away, he might actually make some headway on Operation Romance Sierra over the next few days.
Should he mention what his boss had just informed him? He gave his head a little shake. No sense in upsetting Sierra or spoiling her time away from the city.
A soft snuffle came from his right. He angled his head around, slow and easy, to catch the culprit. Just then, Ms. Esther’s head dipped to her chest and jerked back up, her lashes never lifting from the stronghold of sleep.
He chuckled, hope blossoming and expanding in his chest. No, he didn’t think he’d have any trouble finding time alone with Sierra in the evenings. If all fifty of these seniors fell asleep this easily, this romantic excursion might work out better than he could ever have imagined.
He dug his tablet out from where it nestled next to him on the seat. He’d better get some work done on the bus if he hoped to have a free evening.
****
With an elbow on the reception counter, Sierra rested her chin in a palm, waiting for the resort clerk to finish coding the keys for all the rooms. The trip through the mountains had been uneventful, but sitting directly behind the driver, she’d clung to the armrest, her knuckles white, her neck tense, and eyes wide, as the driver took those snaky curves without even a tap on the brakes. Her nerves hadn’t settled down, yet. She didn’t know if she’d be able to keep dinner down later. Maybe she could just nibble on some crackers.
“There you go, Ms. Esther. Is that what you needed?” Camdon’s deep rumble from somewhere nearby caught her attention over the chatter of fifty plus seniors huddled together in the lobby, waiting to get into their rooms.
She angled over a shoulder to see him set the old woman’s luggage back on the floor next to the armchair where Ms. Esther sat, her head resting against the fabric of the chair. In his hand looked to be a plastic medicine container.
“Yes, thank you, Camdon. That was so kind of you.”
Camdon’s lips split, revealing sparkling white teeth. “Anything for you Ms. Esther. You just holler if you need anything else. I’ll be around.”
Ms. Esther’s bony hand snaked out to grab his forearm, stopping him from walking away. She yanked him down so that his torso stooped to her level. Even facing each other, eye-to-eye, Ms. Esther’s steel grey eyebrows furrowed together as if she had to squint to see Camdon. “Why aren’t you married yet, young man?” The dear old woman screeched. Several heads swiveled around to see what the commotion was all about, including Wilma’s.
“Just waiting on the right lady to notice me.” Amusement laced Camdon’s deep voice. He rose back to his full height and turned, caught Sierra staring. He winked like he’d done countless times before. But this time was different. Tingles raced up her limbs.
Sierra rubbed her arms, giving her head a little wobble to clear the cobwebs that apparently had taken over her brain. Her nerves were still wired from the harrowing drive through the mountains. That’s all.
“One last signature, please.” The clerk’s relieved tone snapped her attention back to him. He slid a piece of paper across the desk and tapped a spot on the form.
With shaky fingers, she picked up the pen and signed it, then passed it back. Maybe she should eat something more substantial than crackers.
“Here you go. You’re all set.” He handed over the stack of room cards with sticky notes attached for who belonged in each room.
“Thanks.”
“Our porters will be glad to assist with luggage and…” His voice trailed off as his gaze traveled over the crowded reception room. “Whatever other needs you may have. It may take a few minutes to get everyone situated, but we’ll take good care of our guests.”
He’d obviously noticed all the walkers and canes scattered throughout the room.
“Thank you. We’d appreciate the extra assistance.” Sierra pivoted, and her face collided against a firm, muscle-hardened wall. Camdon’s chest.
“Careful there.” His voice sounded even more amused now. But the man didn’t budge other than to grasp her forearms to keep her from tottering over.
A four-hour drive through the mountains would make anybody unsteady on their feet, especially since she’d skipped lunch. It had nothing to do with the enticing combination of basil and woods, of leather and man, that enveloped her, did it?
She closed her eyes and breathed deep, allowing Camdon’s familiar scent to calm her nerves, to settle over her like a warm blanket on a frigid winter’s eve. There, that was better.
“Do you need help with your bag?” The deep voice that rumbled so close to her ear, the breath that tickled the hairs on her neck, zapped her lashes up. Crinkles edged out from the hollows above Camdon’s high cheekbones.
Amused again. Almost as if he knew she was struggling for composure. The rascal appeared to be enjoying every minute of her confusion.
She attempted a glare, but that fell flat. How could she blame him for her unease when he wasn’t at fault? Besides, he was bending over backwards to be helpful.
She forced her facial muscles to relax, even managed a smile. But then, smiling was what she did best. Even on those occasions when life hadn’t given her much to smile about. “Um, no, I’m good. After I pass out these room keys, I think I’ll stay here for a bit just to make sure everyone’s settled before I head to my room. Th
anks, though.”
She pulled out the key marked Lambright, slipped off the sticky, and handed the card to him. Warm green eyes assessed her before he nodded his agreement. “All right. See you at dinner, then?”
Wilma suddenly appeared at her side. Her grandmother’s silver head flitted from Camdon back to Sierra, wrinkles furrowing her leathery forehead. Smoke and cool air hovered around the woman, clinging to her new clothes. When Sierra had last checked on Wilma, her grandmother had been standing outside the front door, a cigarette dangling between her lips as she chatted with Monty, a widower a few years older.
Sierra pulled out her grandmother’s card and, stripping off the sticky identifier, handed it to Wilma. “Here you go, roomie. I’ll be up in a bit.”
“How’s Violet?” Her grandmother demanded, her bony fingers ice cold. Wilma’s gaze zeroed in on Camdon again, tiny puffs of smoke still eking out from between her chapped lips.
Why the sudden interest in Violet now? Wilma hadn’t mentioned Violet during the entire bus ride. Unlike Sierra, who’d plucked out her phone countless times, staring at it as she considered calling her daughter to tell her that she loved her. Just in case they crashed into a mountain wall or center line barrier.
“I haven’t called her yet, but I will.”
Wilma’s beady eyes squinted at Camdon. What had her grandmother so riled?
Camdon’s eyebrows hiked. He took a step backwards, and the hard angles lining Wilma’s face visibly loosened.
Ahhh. Sierra got it. It was okay for Wilma to huddle close to Monty on the front porch, but apparently, her grandmother didn’t like seeing Camdon standing in Sierra’s personal space. But, Camdon was just a friend. Why was her grandmother being so touchy?
“Just as soon as I hand out all these room keys,” she amended.
“Here. Give me some. I can help with that. I think I know most everybody here.” Camdon extended a hand, palm up, his lips curved in a knowing smile.
“Thanks. That would be great.” Sierra split the cards in half and handed him a stack.
“You got it. See you at dinner.” He took off, his dark head alternating between reading the sticky notes and scanning the crowd.