Sierra Jensen Collection, Volume 1

by Robin Jones Gunn

  The rain poured over her. She felt as if she had been doused with a bucket of water. Only five more blocks to go, and she would be home where she could crawl into bed. Or a hot bath.

  Sierra came to a stoplight and had to wait before she could cross the street. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a black Jeep that had come to a stop at the red light only a few feet from her. Even though the windows were rolled up, she could hear the beat of the music blasting from the Jeep radio. She also heard laughter. Male laughter. Deep and rowdy laughter. She couldn’t help but wonder if they were laughing at her. And she couldn’t blame them if they were. She probably would be laughing at the sight of her if she were the one in the Jeep. Sierra knew she must look ridiculous, like a runner-up in the Miss Drowned Rat Beauty Contest.

  The sound of their laughter only added to the hurt already coursing through her. It made her mad. Sierra blinked away her tears and, with a jerk of her head, glared at the insensitive males inside the Jeep. The guy in the passenger seat was looking right at her. Their eyes met. Sierra stopped breathing. The grimace on her face vanished. And the guy in the passenger seat stopped laughing.

  It was Paul.

  The light changed, and the Jeep jerked forward as Paul turned his head to get one last look at Sierra. Then he was gone.

  She put one foot in front of the other, sloshing into a puddle as she crossed the street. Everything inside and outside had gone numb.

  It was Paul. He saw me. He was laughing at me.

  Sierra barely remembered the final blocks home. Her mind had been transported back to the phone booth at Heathrow Airport in London where she had met Paul. He had asked to borrow some change for his phone call, and somehow, something inside of Sierra and Paul had connected. They spoke later on the plane and found they had mutual friends. It was all very promising. Then he found out how old she was. He was a big college student, and she was only a junior in high school. His interest in her seemed to evaporate. But then he wrote her a letter, and she answered it. That was several weeks ago, and he hadn’t written back. Now, after this morning’s curbside encounter, she was sure he never would. It was one more thing to cry about. And cry she did.

  seven

  SIERRA STRETCHED OUT her legs in the warm water of the antique cast-iron tub. She hadn’t soaked in the claw-foot tub since she was a little girl visiting Granna Mae during summer vacation. After her family had moved to the old Victorian house, she had taken showers in the upstairs remodeled bathroom. Now she sank deeper into the soothing water.

  The minute she had reached home, she had called the hospital. Mom said Granna Mae was resting and doing fine. Then Mom suggested Sierra get some sleep to make up for the restless night she had spent in the hospital room chair. After lunch, they would go back to the hospital together.

  The leisure time was just what Sierra needed. A nice hot bath, a change into old sweats, and a cup of jasmine tea lifted her emotions out of the bog that had entrapped them just an hour earlier.

  Just as Sierra was pouring her second cup of tea, the phone rang. “Hello,” she said. A far-off part of her heart hoped it would be Paul.

  “Hey Sierra! Whatcha’ doin?” the female voice asked.

  “Not much. Who’s this?” It drove Sierra crazy when people started to talk before she knew who they were.

  “You mean you’ve forgotten us already?” the voice teased.

  “Hi, Sierra,” another female voiced chimed in. “It’s Christy. I’m sure you can guess the other mystery caller.”

  “Katie? Christy! Hi! How are you guys?”

  “We’re peachy,” Katie said. “How about you?”

  “That’s her new word,” Christy interjected. “I guarantee you’ll get sick of it real fast.”

  Sierra pulled the tea bag out of the mug and headed to the office with the phone balanced on her shoulder. She curled up in her favorite chair and placed the hot tea on a coaster on the end table. “I’m so glad you guys called! It seems like years since we were in England.”

  “I know,” Katie agreed.

  “But it’s only been a few weeks,” Christy pointed out. “What’s happening with you?”

  “Don’t ask!” Sierra warned, sipping her tea. “It’s been a not-so-happy couple of weeks topped off by a couple of disastrous days. You guys tell me about you first. Maybe it will cheer me up.”

  “Well, we’re baking cookies right now,” Christy said. “At least we’re trying to—if Katie will stay out of the chocolate chips.

  “I only had a handful,” Katie responded. “Besides, if we add raisins, no one will know the difference.”

  “Todd will,” Christy said.

  “Is Todd there too?” Sierra asked.

  “No, he’s at his dad’s in Newport. We’re going there this afternoon because Tracy is having a party at her house tonight. We really wish you were going to be at the party, Sierra.”

  “Don’t taunt me like that. You know I would love to be. I would give anything to see you guys again!”

  “So come on down,” Katie said in her best game show voice.

  “Oh, right. There is this little matter of a thousand or so miles that separate us.”

  “Ever hear of airplanes?” Katie asked. “Marvel of the modern world. You could be here in a few hours.”

  “Ever hear of money?” Sierra said. “As in, I don’t have any?”

  “Then get some,” Katie said.

  “I tried.” Sierra tucked her feet underneath her to keep them warm. “I had the world’s fastest job interview this morning, and I didn’t get the job. It was for a flower shop. They wanted me to work all day on Sundays and use my own car for flower deliveries.”

  “Did you tell them you couldn’t work Sundays because you go to church?” Christy asked.

  “No. She didn’t even ask why. I just told her I couldn’t work on Sundays.”

  “I used to work at a pet store,” Christy said. “My boss understood when I told him I couldn’t work Sundays because I went to church. Maybe you could try explaining it to her.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sierra said. “I don’t have a car. My mom and I share an old beater that’s not so dependable. I know I couldn’t take it for the whole day even if they just hired me for Saturdays. It wouldn’t work out.”

  “That’s too bad,” Christy said. “Are you going to apply anywhere else?”

  “There are plenty of shops and fast-food restaurants around where we live. I’m sure I’ll find something.”

  “When you do,” Katie advised, “be sure to tell them you can’t work during Easter vacation because you’re coming down here to spend the week with us.”

  “If I get some money.”

  “You have to. It’s mandatory,” Katie said.

  Sierra heard a low munching sound on the phone.

  “Katie, are you eating those chocolate chips again?”

  “Just a few.”

  “Katie,” Christy said, “we’re going to have to buy some more. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe that health food kick you were on wasn’t so bad. At least every bit of chocolate didn’t disappear when you were around.”

  Sierra laughed. “I’m so jealous of the two of you.”

  “Jealousy is not a good thing,” Katie said.

  “You know what I mean. You’ve been best friends for all these years. Since we moved here, I haven’t found anybody I could even ask to come over and make cookies.”

  “You’ll find someone soon,” Christy said.

  “Oh yeah? How?”

  “Advertise,” Katie said with a crunch.

  “What?”

  “Put a classified ad in the school newspaper.”

  Sierra laughed. “What would I write? ‘Wanted: Kindred Spirit’?”

  “That would work,” Katie said with another obvious munch. “What could it hurt?”

  “Where do you come up with these ideas, Katie?” Christy asked. “And stop eating those chocolate chips!”

  “Didn’t
you know that chocolate is the best brain food on planet earth? It heightens one’s awareness of the obvious. And it’s obvious Sierra needs a soul mate, and I still think advertising is the way to go.”

  “I’ll be praying God brings a wonderful, peculiar treasure right to your door,” Christy said.

  “She’s not ordering a pizza,” Katie pointed out. “Take my advice, Sierra. Advertise. It’s the best way. Very peachy. But speaking of peculiar treasures, and peachy peculiar treasures, what happened with Paul?”

  “Funny you should mention him,” Sierra said.

  “Who’s Paul?” Christy asked.

  Katie explained in one long breath. “Remember that guy I told you about that Sierra met at the airport in London on the way home? Last month when I visited Doug at his God-Lover’s Bible Study, it just so happened that Paul’s brother was there and gave me a letter from Paul to give to Sierra.”

  “You never told me any of this,” Christy said.

  “Of course I did!”

  “No, you didn’t. I would have remembered.”

  “I’m sure I told you, Christy. You seem to have a selective memory lately.”

  “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Sierra sipped her tea and listened to her friends rant with each other on their long-distance call to her.

  “If it has to do with Todd, your memory is perfect. Anything else is up for grabs lately.”

  “Oh, that’s real nice, Katie. Thank you very much. The point is, you never told me about Sierra meeting this guy … what’s his name?”

  “Paul,” Sierra and Katie said in unison.

  “And I saw him today,” Sierra inserted quickly, before Christy and Katie had a chance to continue their friendly spat.

  “How peachy! Tell us everything,” Katie said.

  Sierra recounted the drowned-rat-with-extra-large-bouquet scenario. There was complete silence on the other end except for the rustling sound of a bag of chocolate chips.

  “Hello? Did I bore you to death with my story?”

  “Of course not,” Christy said. “It’s just weird, your seeing him like that. What are you going to do?”

  “Nothing. What can I do?”

  “Maybe he’ll call you to see if you’re okay,” Katie said. “That’s what happens in the movies.”

  “No,” Christy said, “in the movies he would have told his friend to stop the car, and he would have run back to you with an umbrella and walked you the rest of the way home, and you would have made him a pot of tea.”

  Sierra laughed. “I am drinking tea right now,” she said. “Maybe my life is a low budget ‘B’ movie, and all I get is the tea. No hero. No umbrella.”

  “Yeah, well then my life is a class ‘Z’ movie,” Katie said. “No hero. No umbrella. No tea. No plot—”

  “Yours is more of a mystery,” Christy interrupted cheerfully. “The ending will surprise all of us.”

  “And your life,” Katie said to Christy, “is turning into a rather predictable romance. Girl meets boy. Boy is a dork for four years. Girl blossoms into a gorgeous woman. Boy finds his brain. Girl turns into starry-eyed mush head.”

  Sierra laughed. “I take it things are still going great with you and Todd.”

  “Slightly,” Katie answered for Christy. “You have to hurry down here, Sierra. I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Pals Only Club. Since you and I are the only remaining members, you are obligated to come. You do remember our club, don’t you?”

  “How could I forget?” Sierra said. “I do have to say I still qualify for membership. No guys are in my life—not even as pals.” Then, because she was feeling rather perky, Sierra added, “Unless Paul was actually so taken with my ravishing appearance this morning that he’s on his way over here as we speak, so he can sweep me off my feet.”

  “In your dreams!” Katie said. “I’d say you can check that loser off your list. Maybe your ad should be for a new member of Pals Only; we could even add some guys to our tiny band.”

  “Don’t advertise,” Christy advised. “Just start praying. I am going to pray that you’ll meet some fun people up there.”

  “Then start to pray that I find a job. Easter vacation is only three weeks away.”

  “I will,” Christy promised.

  Just then the front door opened, and Sierra jumped. She wasn’t expecting Mom until this afternoon. The antique clock on top of the oak desk read 10:57. Sierra listened to the footsteps on the wood floor in the entryway. She wished she had locked the front door. Cupping her hand over the phone, she said, “You guys, somebody is in the house.”

  “Are you the only one home?” Christy asked.

  “Yes,” Sierra whispered back, feeling her heart pound faster as the footsteps headed toward the kitchen. They sounded heavy, like a man’s. “Don’t hang up. Stay on the line. If you hear me scream, call the Portland police immediately.”

  eight

  SIERRA HELD HER BREATH. In the phone receiver she could hear Katie slowly smacking her lips, and Christy whispering, “Katie, shhh!” With her other ear, Sierra listened as the footsteps clomped through the kitchen and seemed to come closer.

  “He’s coming into the study!” Sierra whispered.

  “What’s happening?” Katie whispered. “Who is it?”

  A figure suddenly appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing here?” Sierra demanded.

  Tawni marched in, her heavy snow boots thumping across the polished wood floor. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Where’s the car? I didn’t think anyone was home, and I couldn’t figure out why the front door was unlocked.”

  “Who is it?” Katie shouted into the phone.

  “It’s my sister,” Sierra said. Then turning to Tawni she said, “Mom has the car. She’s at St. Mary’s with Granna Mae. She had her gallbladder out yesterday.”

  “Who?” Tawni squawked. “Who had her gallbladder out? Mom or Granna Mae?”

  “Yeah,” Katie chimed in, “you didn’t tell us this!”

  “Granna Mae. Mom came home this morning to be with her. She’s doing okay.”

  “Who?” Katie asked. “Your mom or grandma?”

  “Both,” Sierra said. “Can I call you guys later?”

  “We’ll be down at Tracy’s tonight. You can call there,” Christy suggested. “Or we’ll try you again in a week or so to see how things are working out for you to come down at Easter.”

  “Okay, great. ‘Bye, you guys. Say hi to Doug and Tracy and Todd for me!”

  “We will. ‘Bye, Sierra.”

  She hung up and faced Tawni, who had her hands on her hips. “What is going on?” Tawni demanded. Sierra repeated the information, and Tawni said, “I’m going to the hospital.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Sierra said, hopping up. “Let me put on some shoes.”

  “I’m going to change, and then we’ll go,” Tawni said, leading the way up the stairs in her ski apparel.

  “What happened with your ski trip?” Sierra asked. “I thought you were staying until Sunday.”

  Tawni opened their bedroom door and shouted, “Sierra!”

  “What? I’m standing right here!”

  “The room looks as if it hasn’t been touched since I left on Thursday!”

  “It hasn’t, Tawni. I was slightly busy. What happened with your ski trip?”

  “Nothing!” Tawni snapped. “I decided to come home early, that’s all. It looks like a good thing I did. How did you manage to get Granna Mae to the hospital?”

  “I drove her.”

  “You ditched school?”

  “I missed school.” Sierra pulled on some warm socks and slipped her feet into a pair of tennis shoes. “It was an emergency.”

  Tawni didn’t have a real cheerful personality, and she often got mad at Sierra, but today she seemed more irritable than usual. Sierra chose not to push her sister for an explanation as to why she had come home early.

  Tawni changed her clothes in silence, neatly hanging up her sk
i jacket and arranging her boots in the corner of her closet. They walked downstairs with Tawni in the lead. Sierra grabbed her backpack, which was still wet from her walk this morning, and was about to lock the front door behind her when she remembered the flowers in the kitchen sink.

  “Wait. I need to grab some flowers.” She hurried into the kitchen, searching for a vase large enough for the huge bunch and ending up grabbing a plastic water pitcher. In her hunt through the cupboard, something familiar caught Sierra’s eye. She reached for it carefully, wrapped it in a dish towel, and stuffed it in her backpack.

  Tawni had her car running and was checking her makeup in the pull-down mirror on the visor. Sierra had to brush a white paper bag off the front seat so she could sit down. A slight scent of cinnamon sugar hovered in the car. As soon as she had her seat belt on and the flowers balanced on her lap, she poked at the white bag. It was empty.

  “What was in there?”

  “In where?”

  “The white bag. Was it a cinnamon roll from Mama Bear’s?”

  “Yes. What about it?” Tawni’s voice still had that irritable edge to it.

  “Nothing. I’ve been craving one of those rolls, that’s all.” Sierra swallowed the saliva that had filled her mouth. If she had been with anyone else, she probably would have had no qualms about slashing open the bag and licking up the crumbs. Sierra thought, You hang on, tummy. I promise you a cinnamon roll from Mama Bear’s will visit you very soon.

  Sierra led Tawni to the hospital room, where they found Granna Mae asleep in the bed and Mom dozing in the chair.

  “I’ll fix these,” Sierra whispered, motioning with the pitcher and flowers as she stepped into the small bathroom. Mom stirred and greeted Tawni with surprise. They whispered as Sierra filled the pitcher with water. She wished she could hear what they were saying. Tawni would tell Mom what the problem was with the ski trip before she would tell Sierra.

  “Lovey?” Granna Mae called out, her voice cracked.

  “I’m right here,” Sierra said, going to her bedside with the pitcher of flowers. “Charlotte at the flower shop sent these for you. Aren’t they beautiful?”