The joy in her face as she turned to him and began to relate her afternoon in finest detail filled his heart. Olivia looked and sounded like a happy seven-year-old, and he needed to thank Sarah for that. It didn’t matter that she made it clear that she wanted to keep him at arm’s length. That wasn’t what this was about.
Sarah laughed to herself as she drove home. Rita was no bigger than Sarah—that is to say, about five feet tall—but she had Chris right where she wanted him in that booth, and he wasn’t going anywhere until she said so. Rita just had that effect on folks. She talked. They listened. Gran was about the only one in Last Chance who could stop Rita when she was on a roll. Gran would just put her hand on Rita’s arm and say, “Now, that just sounds fascinating. I’ll have to hear more when I have time.” Then she’d smile and walk away. Briefly, Sarah wondered how it would work if she tried that approach but decided that her old method of running when she saw Rita coming was probably the best one for her.
She was caught up in her own thoughts when she turned onto her street and didn’t notice the familiar BMW parked in front of Gran’s house until she was driving past it. Then she saw Gran and her guest standing on the front porch, apparently saying good-bye. Five minutes. If she hadn’t been in such a rush to get out of the Dip ’n’ Dine before Chris finished with Rita and had waited five more minutes, she would have missed him.
Gran and Brandon saw her and waved. Well, that was it. She’d been avoiding this conversation since she got back to Last Chance, but there was no getting out of it now. Brandon had played his trump card: Gran liked him. And if Gran still thought Sarah and Brandon were friends, or more than friends, well, that was no one’s fault but Sarah’s. Every time Gran had mentioned Brandon, Sarah had made a noncommittal comment and changed the subject.
She pulled into her own driveway and shut off the engine. Good grief, Gran, you read my mind over every other thought I have. Why couldn’t you have figured out that I don’t want to see Brandon again? Ever.
She rested her head on the steering wheel a moment, took a deep breath, and got out of the car. Gran and Brandon were already walking down the sidewalk to her house.
“Look what the wind blew in!” Gran was clearly delighted with her surprise, and Sarah forced a smile for her sake.
“Hey, Brandon.” She tried not to stiffen as he leaned in to kiss her cheek. His cologne had once made her weak in the knees. Now it just made her want to cry. “It’s been a while.”
“It has.” His smile tipped up on one side, and his voice was slow. Lack of confidence had never been a shortcoming of Brandon Miller. “And that’s my fault. I’ve been so involved with getting ready for the new job and the move and everything that the time just got away.”
Sarah just looked at him. But you still managed to find time to leave a half dozen messages on my phone every day. You are such a con man.
“Well, come on in.” There was no getting around it. He was not going to go away. “You too, Gran. Come have some iced tea with us.” Please.
“Oh, no.” Gran waved a dismissive hand. “You two have a lot to catch up on, and Brandon and I have already had our visit.” She turned to Brandon before heading back up the sidewalk. “Your new job sounds fascinating, darlin’. I’ll be praying for you.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate it.”
His aw-shucks humility sounded as phony to Sarah as the blame he shouldered for not coming to see her earlier, and she huffed an exasperated sigh as she headed up her walk. She did not invite Brandon to follow her, but he did anyway. She tried to let the screen door swing shut behind her, but he caught it and followed her inside.
He closed the door gently and came to where Sarah stood in the middle of the room. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he let them slide down her arms. When he slipped his arms around her waist and tried to pull her close, she stepped back.
“Seriously, Brandon? What do you think you’re doing?”
His arms fell to his side and he shrugged. “Worth a try. I’ve missed you so much. Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”
Sarah perched on the arm of the sofa. “And say what? We went over everything a hundred times before I came home. There wasn’t anything left to say.”
Brandon ran a hand through his perfectly tousled brown hair. “Maybe not for you. But I have plenty to say.”
“And I’ve heard it all. Over and over and over. Can’t we just give it a rest?”
“Not till you’ve heard me out one more time.” Brandon swung a dining chair around and straddled it.
Sarah found herself wondering if that carefully maintained two-day stubble would have to go when he started his new job. She hoped so. It really looked cheesy. She slipped off the arm of the sofa onto the seat and leaned her head back. Her eyes closed for a moment. “Then you’ll leave? For good?”
“If you still want me to leave, I’ll go.”
“Oh, I’ll want you to leave. You can pretty much count on that.”
“Sarah, listen to me. I’m not here to play games or get involved in some sort of verbal sparring match. I came all the way to Last Chance just so I could talk to you. I knew from the outset that you’d probably do what you’re doing right now, but I had to do it anyway. So would you at least listen?”
Sarah sat up. Brandon loved recreational arguing. Whether it was politics, or religion, or just the satisfaction of having the last word, he was always up for a lively discussion, and frankly, it wore Sarah out. And often it wore her down. But this time there was something different in his tone. She looked at him and waited. Completely uncharacteristically, Brandon seemed at a loss for words. Finally, he took a deep breath and plunged ahead.
“I guess we had been dating about a year, sometime in our junior year, when I first realized that every time I thought about the future, I saw you in it with me. Every dream, every plan, you were there.”
Sarah felt tears sting her eyelids. She turned away and looked out the window.
Brandon’s voice wasn’t as sure as it usually was. “And when you seemed to share those dreams, I really felt there wasn’t a thing I couldn’t accomplish.”
“Please, Brandon . . .” The steely walls Sarah had built around her feelings for Brandon weren’t as strong as she thought they were, and some of the pain she thought she was safe from was beginning to trickle through.
“You said you’d hear me out.” Brandon caught her gaze and held it. “Just let me finish. Anyway, it did become all about my dreams, my plans. I know that. I didn’t even consider that you might have a few dreams of your own.”
“You wouldn’t even listen.” Sarah spoke barely above a whisper.
“I know. And I was wrong. I thought I would conquer the world for you, and you’d just stand there and be impressed with me.”
Sarah shook her head and laughed. “Oh, Brandon, what century are you from?”
“I don’t know. Not this one, that’s for sure. Anyway, I’ve had a lot of time to think recently, and I know this: I still can’t imagine a future without you in it. Can’t we start over, or at least pick up where you felt like I stopped hearing you? I want to know what you want. I want to talk less and listen more. Can’t you give me another chance?”
Of all the things Brandon could have said, this was what Sarah expected least. She would not have been surprised if he had trotted out his list of all the reasons why they were good together. Or if he had turned on his lady-killer charm and tried to sweep her off her feet, as if that would work at this point. But she had not been prepared for this humble and serious side of Brandon. She looked into the depths of his gray-green eyes, but she saw no game playing, no agenda. He really seemed to mean what he was saying.
“Okay, you want to know what I want? Well, in a few days you’re leaving for that new job in Chicago. I’ll tell you right now what I told you when they first started interviewing you: I don’t want to live in Chicago. Not now. Not ever. I am not a city girl and I never will be.”
“Fa
ir enough. The company has branches other places. They’re not out in the country, of course, but some are in smaller cities, even some here in the Southwest. And there are other companies besides the one that hired me too. How about this? Why don’t we just take it slow. We can keep the door open and see if there is a future for us out there somewhere. I’ll go ahead and move to Chicago for now, you stay here in Last Chance and teach, and we can email and talk on the phone, maybe even visit each other once in a while. We’ll just see what happens. No pressure.”
No pressure. Just having Brandon in her house was almost more pressure than Sarah could deal with. Why, oh why, hadn’t she run in the house and locked the door when she saw him on Gran’s porch? Sarah looked out the window again, trying to regather the resolve that had kept her from taking any of the calls Brandon had been bombarding her with.
He must have sensed encouragement in her hesitation, because his expression changed just a bit. His smile grew just a little more confident, and he sat up a little straighter on his chair.
“All I’m saying is, let’s go back to being friends and see where that takes us.”
Sarah let her eyes meet Brandon’s again. “I don’t know. I’d like us to be friends, but I think you want us back the way we were.”
“Of course I want us back together. Did I ever say otherwise? But I’m not going to push it. You’re calling all the shots this time.”
“And if, after all this taking it slow, all the phone calls and emails and so forth, I still just want to be friends?”
“It would kill me. I’ll be honest. But I’d much rather have you in my life as a friend than not have you in my life at all.”
“Oh, Brandon, what are we doing?”
Sarah spoke more to the floor than to the man sitting across from her, but it seemed to be all Brandon was waiting to hear. He jumped to his feet and stood before Sarah with his hand stretched toward her.
“Friends?” His grin was almost boyish.
Sarah hesitated but finally slipped her hand in his. “Friends. But only friends.”
“I’ll take it.” Brandon drew her to her feet and into an embrace that even Sarah had to admit could be nothing but a buddy hug. Maybe he really did mean what he said about taking it slowly.
“Now.” Brandon smiled down at her and brushed a curl from her face. “Why don’t you go get ready, and we’ll go out to dinner in San Ramon to celebrate being friends.”
Sarah turned away from him. “No, all I want to do right now is have a bath and eat something out of the refrigerator. It’s been a long day.”
“That sounds good. You go take your bath, and I’ll see what I can scrounge up.”
Sarah put her hand on his chest. “No. I think you should go now. I have a lot to think about, and I need to be alone.”
Sarah thought she saw a flash of irritation cross his face, but it was quickly covered by a tight smile. He took her shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do. I should probably be heading back now anyway. It’s a long drive.”
At the front door, he turned and took Sarah’s hand again. “I’d like to see you again before I leave for Chicago.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
A real smile filled his face this time. “All right, then. I’ll give you a call and we can set something up.”
Sarah leaned against her front door after she closed it. She knew for sure now that she wasn’t the same woman who had allowed Brandon to plan her life for her. She had taken the initiative to end things between them, to come back to Last Chance and to begin to build a life for herself on her terms. And she intended to continue living her life on just those terms. Surprisingly, Brandon seemed to accept that, and having him as a friend again would be nice. And if he meant what he said—if he really did want to pursue a life where the hopes and dreams and goals of each of them held equal value—then maybe they did have a future together. She would let time tell. And as Brandon said, this time she called the shots.
13
Look what I’ve got!” Rita bustled into the Dip ’n’ Dine waving a sheaf of papers over her head. She plopped the stack on the counter and held the top sheet up for inspection. “‘Hot Chile and Cool Jazz: An Evening of Spice and Ice.’ I thought that last bit just makes it perfect. What do you think?”
Chris took the flyer from her and read it, slowly nodding. “I think it’s going to work. I like the ‘spice and ice.’”
Rita handed another flyer to Carlos, who had appeared in the kitchen window. Since the evening party had been his idea, he had taken particular interest in the plans.
Chris handed back his flyer and Rita read it again. “I just wish the last weekend in September would have worked. When you head into October, you’re flirting with a cold snap, and earlier in September just doesn’t give us the time we need to do this thing right.”
“Sorry, but that’s the only weekend Tom can bring his band down. And we’re lucky to get that since we’re holding this right in the middle of hunting season.”
“Just another reason why it might have been a good idea to stick with a local band, even if it wasn’t jazz.” Rita handed a flyer to each of the few diners finishing up a late lunch. “Here, you won’t want to miss this. And tell all your friends.”
“Are you kidding me?” Chris grinned. “You really think ‘a foot stompin’ time’ is better than ‘spice and ice’? This is a real winner.”
“I do have a knack for slogans, if I say so myself. It just comes naturally.” Rita cocked her head as she admired her own handiwork before peeling off four flyers and handing them to Chris. “One for the front door, one for the cash register, and one in each of the restrooms. Oh, and here are the tickets. The flyer says you can buy them either here or at the motel. Keep track of the number you sell and who buys them. This thing is going to sell out. Mark my words.”
Chris nodded, thinking he should probably be taking notes or something.
“Well, I’ve got to get these flyers out. The sooner they go up everywhere, the sooner people will start talking about it and buying tickets.” She stopped with her hand on the door. “Oh, what about the food? What’s on the menu?”
Chris glanced at Carlos, who turned back to his kitchen with a scowl. “Well, we’re still in negotiations about that. I think I’ve about got Carlos to agree to share the kitchen with me that night. We’re thinking there’ll be a choice between a traditional New Mexican combo plate and something a little more contemporary. Still haven’t quite decided what.”
“If he sells even five orders of that fancy Santa Fe stuff when folks can eat my cooking, I’ll eat one myself.” Carlos’s grumble may have been intended for no one in particular, but it carried to the dining room.
“I heard that.” Chris turned and pointed at Carlos through the window into the kitchen. “And you’re on. I’ll serve you myself, right here in this front and center booth.”
“You’re pushing it, boss.” Carlos turned back to his stove.
With Rita gone and the diner nearly empty, Chris found some tape and set about putting up the flyers. The timing of the dinner was perfect. He could throw himself into it and not miss Olivia so much. He’d been surprised at how easily she had fit into his life, and the nearly two weeks she had been with him had flown by. But it was nearly time for school to start, and she’d soon be going home.
When the phone in his pocket vibrated, he took it and raised his eyebrows at the screen. Kaitlyn hadn’t called Olivia nearly as often as she had promised, but it was often enough for Kaitlyn, he guessed. He pressed Talk.
“Hey, Sis. How’s it going?”
“Just great! How are you guys doing?” Kaitlyn sounded more than cheerful, and that made Chris nervous. Usually that meant she wanted something.
“We’re doing fine. I’m sorry Olivia’s not here. She’s out at the ranch with Sarah getting in one last ride, but she’ll be home in a couple hours. Should I have her call you, or do you want to
call back?”
“Oh, I’ll call back. Don’t worry about it. But I’m glad I got to talk to you. You usually just hand the phone to Olivia.”
“I thought that was our deal.”
“But you’re my brother. I like talking to you too, you know.”
“All right.” Now he was sure of it. Kaitlyn wanted something. Probably the money to get back home.
“So, who is this Sarah that Olivia keeps talking about? Is she cute? Should I be worried about my brother?”
Chris walked through the kitchen and out the back door. Juanita and the last table of customers were following his conversation with unabashed interest, and he had a feeling the call was going to require some privacy as soon as Kaitlyn got around to why she called.
“Sarah Cooley is a teacher who’s taken an interest in Olivia. She grew up on a ranch near here and has taken Olivia riding a couple times. Now, what’s this call all about, Kaitlyn? Do you need money?”
“No, I just wanted to talk to you, that’s all.” Kaitlyn sounded deeply hurt that Chris would question her motives. “Can’t we just talk without you finding fault?”
Chris glanced at his watch. “We could and I’d love to. But I’m at work right now and I need to get back at it. Why don’t you plan on spending an extra day or two here when you come back for Olivia? We could catch up then.”
There was a long pause on the line, and Chris thought they might have been cut off. “Kaitlyn? Are you there?”
“I’m here.”
Totally exasperated, Chris sat down on the concrete back step. “Okay. I don’t have any more time for this. You called for a reason. If it’s not money, what is it?”
Another long pause. “Kaitlyn?”
He heard her take a deep breath, and then the words came in a rush. “I—we’ve decided to spend the winter here in Florida. I’m not coming back till maybe spring, so can Olivia just stay with you?”
“Can Olivia what? What are you talking about? Of course you can’t spend the winter in Florida. You have responsibilities. You have a child, for crying out loud.”
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