“Oh, for crying out loud...” He slid off his bar stool and walked over to the table. After sitting on the third chair at the table, he liberated his beer. “I’m not finished with that.”
“I’m driving you home,” Ellie said.
“Okay.” He’d been planning to find a ride, so that declaration just made his life easier. Maybe. But when he met her gaze reality sank in. Nope, he was going to pay for it. “Delanie called you.”
“She did,” Ellie confirmed.
“Then you called Linc?”
His brother nodded. “Alex is babysitting.”
“How is my niece?” Even as Sam asked about Leah, pain sliced through him as a picture of Phoebe’s tear-streaked face flashed into his mind.
“She’s fine.”
Delanie walked over to the table. “What can I get you two?”
“Beer,” Linc said.
“Club soda with lime,” Ellie told her.
Sam met the bar owner’s defiant gaze. “You’re a blabbermouth. That could be bad for business.”
“Depends on how you look at it. I take care of my customers. Folks appreciate that.” The redhead shrugged. “I’ll get those drinks for you.”
“So.” Sam met his sister’s gaze. “No white wine? You’re being a good example?”
“No. I’m pregnant.” She looked at Linc before adding, “And yes, you’re the last to know. I was going to make the announcement at the end of your wedding dinner.”
“Congratulations.” Sam put as much enthusiasm as possible into the single word. It wasn’t much, though, what with envy choking off his goodwill. He wasn’t proud of it. Especially the part where he was wallowing in self-pity.
“So, enough about me,” she said. “Let’s not waste time. You’re a hot mess and it’s because of Faith walking out.”
“Don’t sugarcoat it, sis. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Okay. You’re a quitter.”
“Wow. That was supportive.” He looked at Linc. “Want to jump in and back me up?”
“No. I agree with her.”
Anger leaked through the alcohol buzz. And this was why he’d deliberately avoided family. “I’m surprised you didn’t drag Cal away from work to pile on. So much for Team Sam.”
Ellie was not discouraged. “You’re giving up.”
“Hold on.” He pushed his empty beer glass away. “She left me.”
“And now you’re in a bar.” Linc made it sound pathetic.
“You two are happily married. Not to each other. You know what I mean,” Sam said. “When you’re walking in my shoes, we’ll talk.”
“She is not Karen Leigh Perry.” Ellie put her hand on his arm. “Faith is not the conniving bitch we all knew your wife was.”
“Everyone knew?” Sam looked from his sister to his brother and both nodded. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Would you have listened?” Ellie lifted one eyebrow. “Be honest.”
He let out a sigh. “Doubtful.”
“It’s a family trait and not one of our better ones.” There was sympathy in her expression now. “But I’m begging you to listen. Talk to Faith.”
“I already did.”
“Then do it again,” she urged. “You have to fight for her.”
“There’s no point. She made her position clear.”
“How?”
“She admitted she loves me and that’s the problem.” Before they could ask, Sam told them about her parents’ emotional abandonment, then falling for her college sweetheart who’d claimed to love her. The last straw was when the guy walked out on her because she was pregnant with Phoebe.
“‘Jerk’ isn’t a bad enough name for a loser like that.” Ellie was seething with contempt.
“I could think of some.” Linc’s voice was low and menacing. “But they’re not fit for mixed company, even if you are my sister.”
“So you see,” Sam continued, “I’ve got nothing to fight with.”
His sister gave him a scolding look. “Like I said. Quitter.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Don’t throw in the towel. Be there. Show up everywhere. Get in her face. Actions speak louder than words. Let her know you’re not going anywhere.”
“Ellie, we lived together. I was there for her. It wasn’t enough,” Sam protested.
“Don’t you see?” Her voice rose slightly in frustration. “By backing off you’re playing into her hang-up. You’re confirming that she’s right to fear abandonment. Her parents ignored her. The jerk of a husband walked out on her and in her mind you’re leaving her, too.”
“Are you saying this is a test?” Sam dragged his fingers through his hair. “I was willing to marry her. She left me. At the altar.”
“A technicality. And I don’t think she’s consciously testing you.” Ellie waved her hand in dismissal. “She’s been betrayed by love in a profound way and trust won’t come easily.”
Suddenly the light was beginning to penetrate his darkness. Sam got it.
“Take it from me,” Linc said. “I never stopped loving the woman I thought I divorced ten years ago. If Faith is it for you, don’t roll on this. Unless you don’t love her.”
“I do. She knows it. I told her.” And Sam couldn’t believe he was telling them, that those words came out of his mouth. He was actually talking out loud about his feelings. Must be because a woman owned this bar.
“Okay, then,” Ellie said. “If you want to be happy, you need to figure out a way to show her that you’re not going anywhere.”
“Wear her down,” Sam clarified.
“Exactly,” Ellie and Linc said together.
Sam didn’t know about a third-date flower because he’d never needed one before. The plant lady had teased him about being the elusive Sam Hart. Not anymore. He was going to be gum on her shoe. Just let her try to get rid of him.
Chapter Fifteen
Faith and Phoebe were staying with Mayor Loretta Goodson-McKnight and her husband, Tom. The couple had married a couple years ago and moved into his house, which had three empty bedrooms since his kids were grown and gone. All of them were married now, too.
It had been a week since the aborted wedding and her hasty move out of Sam’s house. She had worked her flower cart in the lobby of his building but tried to structure her hours for when there was the least chance of seeing him. The plan was a total bust. She’d had a Sam sighting every single day since that awful scene. He stopped to talk and always asked how she was, if Phoebe was doing all right and to let him know if there was anything she needed. He refused to go away.
What she needed was to get over missing him. Everything was different—no coffee together in the morning or being in his arms at night. But she had to put Phoebe first and make a new normal for her daughter. One without Sam.
After putting out the pink nightgown, she went into the family room where the child was curled up on Tom McKnight’s lap. His wife was at a town council meeting and he had put on the movie Frozen, which Phoebe had seen about a million times. The more she looked at them, the more regret and guilt rushed through her.
She couldn’t give her daughter a traditional family with a dad who’d be there for her. Faith felt like a colossal failure and the person she loved more than anything was paying the price. And now she had to be a mom to that person, the bad guy once again.
“Phoebe, it’s time for bed.”
There was no response. It was as if she hadn’t said a word. Tom heard because he looked at her, then down at the little girl comfortably curled against him.
“Phoebe?” Faith said. “Did you hear me?”
“Uh-huh.” But she di
dn’t look over.
“You need to take a bath then we’ll read.”
“I don’t want to.”
Take a bath? Read? Or both? Since mutiny had been the go-to behavior for the past week, Faith figured it was number three. That produced more guilt because the kid probably felt as if everything in her life was out of her control. The least a mom could do was keep her child on a schedule so she could get the right amount of sleep and go to school ready to learn and grow up to be a productive member of society. Was that asking too much?
Fortunately none of that came out of her mouth, but she recognized that Phoebe was getting on her last nerve. It happened occasionally because she was a normal kid, but since they’d moved out of Sam’s house she’d taken things to a whole new level of rebellion. Faith willed herself to patience and prayed it would hurry up.
“Phoebe, please turn off the movie.”
The stern tone got a look. “But it’s almost over.”
“You can see the rest tomorrow.”
“I want to see the end now.” The hate stare from an eight-year-old was designed to burn straight to a mother’s soul. It worked.
“You already know how it ends.” This is viewing number one million and one, Faith thought, and she could recite it word for word.
Again the caustic words stayed in her head, thank goodness. But Tom must have felt the vibes. He met her gaze and there was understanding in his. He’d been a widower before marrying the mayor and had raised three kids by himself. To his credit, he stayed out of this mother/daughter standoff.
She and Phoebe were nose to nose—a line had been drawn in the sand. Her little girl was a seasoned negotiator and this was where there was normally pleading and puppy dog eyes. Tonight was different. There was open hostility and Faith felt the pressure of being between a rock and a hard place. If it was a weekend, there would be wiggle room, but school would start bright and early tomorrow.
Faith had to get tough. “Tom, I hate to do this, but would you turn off the movie, please?”
“No, Uncle Tom. Just a little more, please?” Phoebe turned the puppy dog eyes on him.
“Sorry, honey.” He picked up the remote and did as requested. “Your mom outranks me.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Phoebe grumbled.
“It means I make the rules,” Faith said. “Say good-night.”
“Can I get a hug?” he asked.
Without protest the little girl reached her arms up and pressed her cheek to his chest. “’Night, Uncle Tom. I love you.”
“Love you, too, honey. Sleep tight.”
She scrambled off his lap and marched out of the room without even a hate stare for Faith. Tom gave her a sympathetic look before she followed her defiant daughter in order to supervise the bathing. It turned out to be fast and silent.
When her hair was dried and nightgown on, Phoebe climbed up on the twin bed and pulled the covers up, all by herself.
“Do you want to read to me or should I read to you?” Faith asked.
“Neither.”
The snub rubbed a raw spot on Faith’s feelings and she couldn’t stop the words. “But this is what we always do.”
“Nothing is like it was at Sam’s.”
This is what Faith had figured was at the core of the uprising. The good news was she didn’t have to drag the information out of her. But there was bad news, too. Damage had been done. It was her duty as a mother to try to explain.
“Sweetie, I couldn’t marry Sam.” Faith clutched the book until her knuckles turned white.
“But why?” the little girl asked.
There were times when laying a guilt trip on a child was for the greater good, but this wasn’t one of them. No way Faith would tell her that her loving Sam would hurt Phoebe in the long run.
“It just wouldn’t have worked,” she finally said. “Going through with the wedding would have hurt us all eventually.”
“I don’t believe you.” The little girl sat up and stubbornly folded her arms over her chest. “I could have had a dad.”
“Maybe for a little while. But in the end losing him would have been worse.” Faith wasn’t certain, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she was talking about her own feelings just then.
“You always tell me to at least try. But you didn’t with Sam.”
It wasn’t like signing up for a soccer team or piano lessons. There were legalities and complex feelings involved. “This is different.”
Phoebe shook her head. “Now everything is just ruined.”
“It’s not. You’ll get over it.” Again the words were for herself.
“No, I won’t. And what you did is stupid.”
“What have I said about calling people names, young lady?”
“I didn’t say you were stupid.” There was righteous passion in her child’s eyes, the luxury of holding a viewpoint that put everything in black and white. “You love Sam and he loves you. Even a little kid can see that.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. But you ruined everything,” she said again.
The words were like an arrow piercing her heart and drawing blood. It was the truth and Faith had no response. She was going to cry—ugly, blotchy, blubbery crying. And she didn’t want her little girl to see it. Or anyone else for that matter.
“Okay then.” She stood. “If you want to read your book, you can. You know what time to turn out the light.” She bent and kissed her small cheek. “I love you. Sweet dreams.”
Faith quickly turned away and walked into the hall, pulling the door half-closed behind her. She made it two more steps before burying her face in her hands. Silent sobs shook her shoulders for several moments, before she felt a strong arm come around her.
Without a word, Tom McKnight walked her into the family room and put her on the couch, then sat beside her. He got straight to the point. “Go see Sam.”
The words snapped her out of it and she managed to stop crying. Through bleary eyes she met his gaze. “It’s complicated.”
“Because you’re making it that way.” He held up a finger when she started to protest. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand. Love is love whether you’re sixteen or sixty. If you’re lucky, the years give you wisdom, but sometimes a person’s stubborn streak gets in the way.”
“You’re going to tell me an inspirational story now, right?” She took a shuddering breath and brushed at the moisture on her cheeks.
“Only you can decide whether or not it’s inspiring.” But the corners of his mouth curved up for a moment. “I fell in love with Loretta and wanted to marry her, but for reasons that seem silly now, I wanted my daughter settled down with a family, or at least in a relationship, before taking that step. Sydney knew it and pretended to be with Burke Holden so I could be happy.”
“Pretended?” Faith said. “They’re together now.”
“Yeah. Funny thing about that pretending to be crazy about each other. It turned out to be real.” He grinned. “The point is, I made things so difficult and complicated, my daughter felt she had to pull off a pretense to get me where I needed to be.”
“I’m happy for you, Tom. And Loretta. She and my aunt Cathy were like sisters to each other and like mothers to me. But my situation is totally different. I have a little girl who absolutely must come first. I did what I thought was right, what was in her best interest.” Her voice wavered then. “And I still ended up hurting her.”
“Oh, honey—” He
put his arm around her. “If anyone understands what hopeless feels like, it’s me. When Syd’s mom died in childbirth, I didn’t think I could love anyone again. I was wrong. And you are, too. If you’re happy, Phoebe will be. Trust me on that. It’s the truth.”
Maybe it was true before she walked out on the wedding and humiliated Sam in front of family and friends. But now? It was impossible to believe he still did and she loved him so much.
“I messed up big-time, Tom.”
“Everyone does, honey. You’re human.”
“But there’s no way to fix this. My daughter is going to hate me forever.”
And Sam would, too.
* * *
It was quiet at Every Bloomin’ Thing and almost time to close up shop. Faith was cleaning the long worktable in the back, tossing stems, leaves and scraps of ribbon from a large arrangement she’d deliver tomorrow. Catching sight of herself in the mirror on the wall, she winced. There was no way to sugarcoat the truth.
She looked like something the cat yakked up. The scene with Phoebe at bedtime last night just wouldn’t go away and crying was her go-to response. And had been most of the night. Apparently the cold compress on her eyes hadn’t worked because they were still puffy. In all fairness though, she couldn’t blame the compress since that was external and her problem was on the inside. She was head over heels, madly in love with Sam Hart. But it was all over town that she’d left him at the altar.
Sam was a powerful, wealthy businessman who couldn’t forgive such a public slap in the face. Heck, her own daughter was never going to forgive her and Phoebe wasn’t powerful or wealthy. She was eight years old and really good at it.
The New Guy in Town Page 19