Erin's Way

by Laura Browning

  Chapter 7

  “I’d like you to go with me to church tomorrow,” Sam murmured as they snuggled together on the couch Saturday night. “Joe’s a great preacher.”

  “Wouldn’t that blow my keeping a low profile?” Erin asked, swallowing around the sudden flutter in her throat. She remembered how the matrons of Mountain Meadow looked at her. She had felt it every time she visited the town. Then there was her brush with Betty Gatewood. Erin was always too something for them: too busty, too haughty, too wild, too stupid. Some of them had been her teachers; some of them had been the classmates who taunted her. They’d all left her feeling raw, and the whole idea brought up that conversation with Mrs. Gatewood. Maybe she should avoid being seen with Sam. She didn’t want to damage his career.

  “That cat’s already out of the bag, baby. Check Facebook if you don’t believe me. So will you go?”

  “I—I don’t know….”

  Sam tilted her chin. “What is it?”

  Erin rubbed her face against his bare chest. “Oh, Sam, my life here was almost as miserable as it was in Washington. The only time I was happy was out here, wandering the Homestead or your farm. Then I ran into Betty Gatewood yesterday when I drove into town.”

  “Nosy old bi…”

  She put her fingers over his mouth. “Don’t say it. She’s a voter. She had valid points. I could hurt your career.”

  Sam’s frown was fierce. “Bull.”

  He kissed the top of her head, then ran his hands down to knead her bottom and press her against his rapidly hardening cock. “So you want to hide? That doesn’t sound much like my feisty, in-your-face Erin. Baby, you couldn’t ask for much more support. Your brother-in-law will be preaching, your sister, your brother, and your parents will all be there. Hell, you’ll even have the city police chief there, all in your court. Don’t let a few cats scare you. Between the Richardsons and the Allreds, I think this town has learned a few lessons over the last year and a half. Jake and I will both be carrying, if that’s your concern. We won’t be sitting ducks.”

  “Okay. I’ll go.” Erin crawled up his body until she could straddle his hips. She didn’t want to talk about this, so she smiled flirtatiously at him and leaned down. “Since you’re my knight in shining armor, can I play with your sword?”

  Sam laughed. “Baby, you can do anything to my sword your little heart desires.”

  Erin raised her brows, then bent over to take him into her mouth.

  “Especially that,” he groaned and tangled his fingers in her spiky hair.

  * * * *

  Sam jingled the keys in his pocket impatiently as he bent his head to look at the watch on his other wrist.

  “Erin,” he called once again. “Come on or we’ll be late. Joe makes the latecomers sit up front, after he stops the service to say hi to you by…name….” His voice trailed off as she walked into the kitchen. She was dressed in a form-fitting navy wool dress that ended just a couple of inches above her knees. With it she wore a short, matching jacket and heels. A single set of pearl studs that matched the strand around her neck adorned her ears. She’d tamed her inky hair and toned down her makeup so that he could hardly tell she wore any. She took his breath away.

  Erin stared at his raised brows for just an instant and looked at herself in disgust. “I look like shit, don’t I?”

  Sam shook his head. “You look beautiful. It’s just so…so…” He stopped at a loss for words.

  Erin wrinkled her nose. “So just like the rest of my family.”

  Sam chuckled. “Well yes. For you, it’s almost like camouflage. My little stealth bomber. I can’t wait to watch everyone’s faces.”

  Erin laughed as she glided gracefully over to him and stretched on tiptoe to kiss him. Thank God. He’d said the right thing.

  “Come on, Sammy, let’s knock ‘em dead!”

  On impulse, he grabbed her and kissed her again. Obviously the doubts from yesterday had disappeared. “That’s my girl.”

  And as he watched, heads did indeed turn. From the moment he helped her out of the truck and in the front door, until they sat in the pew with Stoner and Catherine. The older woman smiled serenely at Erin as if she would expect nothing less; then Stoner leaned forward and arched one brow in such a wicked way that Erin nearly laughed out loud. Sam smiled at her.

  During the opening hymn, he whispered, “Why aren’t you singing?”

  Erin raised her nose into the air and hissed, “Because I don’t want to ruin my image with a voice that sounds like a scalded cat.”

  Sam did laugh then, and several heads turned to stare at him with either disapproval or disbelief. He smiled at all of them and slung his arm around Erin’s waist. She had awakened a whole new side to him, and it was all he could do to resist caressing her shapely little bottom. Lord. They were in church and he could barely keep his hands off her.

  As they sat, Evan leaned forward from behind them and whispered in Sam’s ear. “Down boy! I saw that hand start to wander south.”

  He was painfully aware of her. After so many years on his own, trying to date other women but comparing them all to Erin, the woman of his dreams finally stood at his side, and he wanted everyone to know she was his. He glanced at her during Joe’s sermon. As if aware she was being watched, Erin tilted her face to his. Her beautiful eyes searched his as Joe made a point about forgiveness. When she smiled, just a gentle curving of her generous mouth, Sam’s heart turned over. He reached for her hand and tucked it in the curve of his arm.

  At times like this, it was easy to forget the difference in their ages. He could believe there might be a future for them. He wanted there to be.

  * * * *

  When the service ended, Erin found herself the center of a group of people. In addition to family, Mr. Tarpley from the general store stepped forward to shake her hand and kiss her cheek. Sam kept her tucked into his side, and made it more than obvious to everyone who stopped to greet them that he had staked a claim. Erin glanced at him a couple times and realized she didn’t at all mind his possessiveness.

  Evan grinned at her. “Okay, I can believe Sam twisted your arm and got you to come to church with him, but I can’t believe you dispensed with the leather mini skirt and the commando boots.”

  Erin tilted her chin. “Sam says I’m in camouflage. A sneak attack on nosy church matrons.”

  Evan threw back his head and laughed, drawing stares from more than one person as they filed toward the door.

  “Come on over to our place. We’re going to do brunch.”

  Erin glanced at Sam who nodded imperceptibly. When her eyes caught her father’s, just over Sam’s shoulder, she found him watching with a thoughtful expression on his face. For an instant, she flashed back to that awful summer when she’d tried to sneak into Sam’s bed. She could only pray her father wasn’t trapped in all that history between her and Sam. She was an adult now. What she felt was no longer a girlish crush.

  In no time at all once they reached Evan and Jenny’s home, Erin took over in the kitchen. When Jenny and Catherine protested, Erin looked at all of them with her hands on her hips. “Look, until a few weeks ago, this was my job. It’s what I do for a living…cooking, and usually for a bigger crowd than this. Now, Jenny, what did you have in mind?”

  Jenny ticked off on her fingers what she had planned while Erin nodded. Finally when she reached the last dish—grits with a creamy shrimp sauce—Erin shook her head.

  “I’m not familiar with that dish.”

  “Oh that’s okay. I have a…recipe.” Jenny glanced from Erin to Catherine. Erin shook her head imperceptibly. “Mother, why don’t you start the coffee? Erin you get started with the other things, and Tabby and I will gather the ingredients for the shrimp dish.”

  “That sounds great!” Erin smiled gratefully at her sisters and pulled on the apron Jenny offered. Setting to work, Erin soon had a potato casserole sharing space with biscuits in the lower oven. In the up
per oven, she kept a large platter of bacon and sausage warm. She stirred the grits while Tabby chopped onions, celery, and peppers.

  “Mother, would you help me take the coffee into Evan’s study? I think they’re all in there discussing some investments they’ve been talking about for months.”

  Erin’s ears perked up. For just an instant she wanted to leave the kitchen and join them. No, better to leave it alone. It was probably better all around if they didn’t know about her avocation, even if she had made herself and Captain Rick a bunch of money. If she had to explain, then everyone was bound to find out about her reading disability.

  “You should tell them,” Tabby said quietly.

  Erin dropped the spoon back into the grits with a plop. “How do you do that?”

  Tabby shrugged. “Sorry, but your expression’s been a dead giveaway ever since Jenny mentioned the recipe. Besides that, you were mumbling to yourself too.”

  Erin spun on Tabby with her fists braced on her hips. “Just how much have I managed to share with you while I’ve been talking to myself?”

  Tabby glanced toward the door and back at Erin before she began quietly. “You can’t read well enough to decipher a recipe… That’s okay. I’ll walk you through it, and you’re a wizard with money. Who’s Captain Rick? You mentioned him while you were mumbling.”

  “Shit! You know you are really annoying, Tabby. If I had to have a little sister, couldn’t it have been someone who didn’t have ears like a bat and look as perfect as a cover model? And to make it even worse, you’re nice. Just swear you won’t tell them.”

  “Tell them what?” Stoner stood in the doorway watching them.

  If Erin’s face looked half as guilty as Tabby’s, they were cooked. She stared at her younger sister and Tabby stared right back, her golden eyes narrowing.

  Erin blew out her breath on a heavy sigh. “Oh damn it, all right. It’s just now is not the time. I-I’ll tell everyone after breakfast.”

  Stoner walked farther into the room. He stopped by the cream and sugar, and turned back to Erin, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.

  Erin felt his uncertainty.

  “Are you all right, honey?” he ventured.

  Erin grimaced at the cautious way he asked the question, as if he expected her to bite his head off. And she guessed in the past that would have been exactly her reaction. “Yes, Daddy.”

  “If it’s Sam…” he began, his tone growing thunderous.

  “If it’s Sam, what?” the man in question drawled challengingly from the doorway.

  Tabby and Erin both watched, jaws agape as Stoner and Sam glared at one another like male lions getting ready to challenge for dominance.

  “Just how long does it take to get…” Evan paused in mid-sentence, “cream and sugar.” He stared at the other two men with narrowed, gray eyes. “What’s going on?”

  Erin was completely exasperated. She rolled her eyes and stared at Tabby. “You might as well call everyone in here. There will be no peace until this is out in the open.” She spun around to work on the cream sauce and realized she’d sent out the person who was supposed to read the recipe to her. With her patience at an end, she turned and glared at Sam.

  “Come over here and read this recipe to me while I add everything in.” It never occurred to her to question the fact that he did so without any comment or remark. A couple of minutes passed as she added the ingredients and adjusted the heat according to his instructions. By the time they were done, everyone was in the kitchen either seated or standing.

  As Erin started to turn, Sam muttered under his breath. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to tell them.”

  Her eyes widened as she stared at him. “You know?”

  He swallowed and nodded.

  So many questions popped into her head, but in the end all she finally managed to whisper was, “How long?”

  He flushed. “Since a couple of days after you moved in.”

  “How?”

  “Your computer set up.”

  He’d snooped in her room? Before Erin could demand to know what he’d been doing, Sam hastened to explain. “You’d left it on that night you pulled the calves. I went in to shut everything down. That’s how I figured it out. I didn’t say anything. I guess I hoped you would tell me.”

  Erin studied his expression. She didn’t see pity or any of the other things she always feared she would see. Sam looked at her in just the same way he always had. Her throat tightened with emotion. She had always been so afraid of others finding out. When she turned around to face everyone else, Erin reached behind her and found his strong, callused hand. He squeezed hers reassuringly.

  “Erin?” Stoner prompted. “What is it Tabby and Sam seem to know that the rest of us don’t?”

  She swallowed but felt Sam’s hands settle reassuringly on her shoulders, giving her confidence to admit what she’d always dreaded putting into words. “I can’t read… And I can barely write.”

  Catherine reached for Stoner’s hand and he grasped it. “Is this a joke, honey?” her mother asked faintly. “You attended college. How could you not be able to read or write?”

  “I—I found ways to cope.” She spread her hands and grinned uneasily. “I’m good in math, so I would trade favors with other kids. You know, do their math work if they would write papers for me.” Her chin rose defensively. “I am also an accomplished cheat, and even paid some students to take exams for me.”

  Stoner looked thunderous; Catherine looked appalled. As Erin looked at Evan, she realized Jenny must have dropped some hints, because he looked the least shocked.

  “How… How could this happen?” Stoner finally asked.

  Erin closed her eyes for a minute. “Oh believe me, a lot easier than you might think. It wasn’t any one thing. Your political career bounced me around to a lot of different schools, and I managed to stay in trouble enough that I got bounced around from teacher to teacher and nanny to nanny. You were both busy between campaigns and other social engagements. By the time it started to become a major issue, Evan was all wrapped up in being a teenager, and I was so ashamed I didn’t get the whole reading thing that I got better and better at hiding it.”

  “There are literacy programs…” her mother began, but Erin cut her off.

  “It’s not that simple. It was never just a matter that I didn’t learn, or that I was lazy.” She paused and frowned as she remembered how many times she’d heard that. It was so much easier to blame it on her than take the time to properly assess and identify her problem. “I’m profoundly dyslexic. Sam’s seen it. I-I can barely even read the Sunday comics, for God’s sake.”

  “But you send us e-mail and read ours,” Catherine continued, still puzzled.

  Erin bit her lip. “My roommate in college helped me. In return, I helped her ace her statistics course. Then, if you’ll recall, I didn’t contact you much until just a few months ago, when I began working on the Sprite. Rick figured out what was going on. He helped me get a voice recognition program that reads everything to me, and I can talk to it, so it will write for me as well.”

  “Rick?” Evan questioned. “The guy…”

  Erin flushed. “Yes.”

  Catherine was still shaking her head as if she couldn’t take it all in, but Stoner stood. Haltingly, he approached her. His gaze slithered from Sam’s glowering expression, to Erin’s shuttered one. “Forgive us, Erin. Forgive me for being too busy, for not noticing.” He stretched his hand out. “I remember how happy you were as a little girl. You were so excited when you started school, but then as the years passed that changed. I guess it was just easier to think it was the normal disenchantment most kids develop for school, but it wasn’t, and we didn’t see.”

  Erin ducked her head. “I should have told you.”

  Stoner shook his head and sliced his hand through the air. “No. You were a child, for God’s sake. One of us, any of us who were around you—
Catherine and me, your nannies, your teachers—someone should have noticed, should have done something.”

  His hand trembled as he touched her cheek with his fingers. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  Erin leaned into his gentle touch for just a moment, but then grasped his hand and held it away from her face. “Don’t, Daddy. Don’t pity me. I’ve found ways to get along. I do okay.”

  Stoner frowned. “As a cook? As farm help for Sam?”

  Erin’s gaze shifted. She didn’t want to talk about the rest of it. It was a lot easier for them to continue thinking of her as a screw up than it was to go into the explanation of how and how much of a success she had managed to become. Her biggest fear, if she ever shared it, was seeing the looks of disbelief they would no doubt have on their faces. Cooking was much safer. “Yeah. Speaking of which, my cream sauce needs stirring. If everyone will set the table, we’re almost ready to eat.”

  “Erin…” Stoner frowned.

  “Later,” Sam said.

  The two stared at each other for a moment; then Stoner nodded. Erin turned her attention back to the sauce. After turning off the burner, she transferred it to a serving bowl. Sam and Stoner still hovered, so she glared at them.

  “Shoo! Get out of my way and let me finish.” She was back in her element. “Tabby, if you’ll take the dishes out of the upper oven, I’ll get the biscuits and the casserole.”

  Even as she tossed out orders, Erin was scraping the grits into another large serving bowl and putting the pot in the sink to soak. Jenny placed the bowls with the shrimp and grits on the table, which Evan and Joe were setting while Catherine took drink orders from everyone.

  Erin smiled as she bent to retrieve the casserole and the biscuits. The noises of home. For this moment at least, she felt she belonged here. In this, at least, she could make a valuable contribution.

  “Here, I’ll take that for you,” Sam said quietly from her side. Erin looked at him and smiled.

  “Thanks, Sammy.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “It’s just a casserole dish,” he muttered, deliberately misunderstanding her.