Avery admired her, could see bits of herself in the girl.
At seventeen, Avery had gone after whatever it was she wanted.
Now? She was existing, making it through the day, and that was an improvement, but what would it take to get back to who she used to be?
Sam, cleared of gear and equipment, poked his head back inside the library. “You get a break?” he asked Avery. “I want to talk.”
“Yep, in twenty,” Astrid said as she led the short parade of kids bursting with energy through the lobby. “And she’s going to need it.”
Avery took the card Miranda slapped down on the desk and started scanning the bar codes on her impressive stack of books. She wasn’t sure she’d figured anything out, but if what she wanted was more life in her days, she knew a guy who could give her some pointers.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THIS TIME, WHEN Avery found Sam, he was seated on top of the fire engine, like a bird perched on the highest branch to take in the view. “What are you doing up there?” she asked, one hand shielding her eyes from the late-afternoon sunshine. “Is that seat reserve approved?”
Sam pointed out three different steps for her to take in order to reach him, before he held up one hand with the paper bag and offered her the other. “You aren’t afraid, are you? Do I have to dare you, AA?”
This was what he’d always done, using that same sly tone and the slightly disapproving frown to goad her into movement.
Today, she loved him for it. She wanted a closer look at the engine. She wanted to sit on the very top. And she was ready for a snack. He could give her all three.
Wishing yet again that she’d gone with something other than a khaki skirt, Avery climbed as gracefully as she could until she reached Sam’s hand. With one swift yank, she was seated next to him, her heart hammering with exertion and goofy exhilaration that she’d made it.
“Is that pie for me?” Avery asked as she snatched it from his hand.
Sam whistled long and loud. “I thought I might need a bribe. You didn’t seem too happy inside. Out here, though, you’ve got real nice color in your cheeks. Inside, you sorta took on the gray tint you had on the trail at Yanu.”
“There’s no way you could see gray. It was night.” Avery snorted and took a bite of the pie.
Sam folded his hands together and kicked his boots out once or twice, like he had when they’d managed to call a truce long enough to share the tree house shell in the old oak.
Avery devoured the peach pie and tried to ignore the heavy atmosphere of gloating. If she didn’t mention story time, maybe he’d let it go.
“So, you’re terrible at talking to kids. The worst.” Sam held up his hands. “I never would have guessed that. I like it, but I wouldn’t have guessed it. Avery Abernathy was good at everything.”
Avery sighed loudly. “It’s Montague now, not that anyone remembers that, and it’s not that I’m bad at talking with children. I don’t have a theatrical flair like the guy who stands in the center of the ring before a wrestling match. I’m perfectly fine with that.”
“Uh-huh,” Sam said slowly, his disbelief crystal clear.
“No, I can talk to kids. I can talk books and even television shows and characters.” Avery yanked her skirt down to cover the bruise on her knee. “I don’t have much experience performing.”
Sam was quiet as he stared out over the shady streets of Sweetwater. “How in the world were you going to control a courtroom, counselor?”
Avery glared at him. “I wasn’t planning to. I’m not a criminal defense lawyer on a television show who has to pull Hail Mary moves to win the day. In the real world, all a good lawyer needs is solid research and the ability to win any argument. I’ve got that.” She raised an eyebrow at him, willing him to argue. She was ready to demonstrate.
Sam held up both hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll be the first to say the world has lost a first-class argument winner. If you don’t go back to law school and fix that, who will terrorize the unprepared?”
Her lips were twitching as she said, “Well, if Astrid fires me like she should, maybe I will go back to law school.” This time when she said it, the hard pit in her stomach that had accompanied every conversation about returning to school for anything was absent. More time could be the solution.
Everyone else seemed to think it was the right choice.
Sam cleared his throat. “It’s a matter of when Astrid fires you, not if at this point. You had a kid asleep, AA.”
At that, Avery had to laugh. “I was hoping he had his eyes closed so he could listen better.” They both chuckled. “You, on the other hand, had them jumping up and down. That’s a skill.”
Sam shrugged. “I know.”
At his cocky answer, Avery bumped his shoulder with hers. “Too bad you missed out on the modesty.”
“When you’re as good as I am at talking about what I do, there’s no sense in being humble.” Sam took a deep, satisfied breath. “No one would believe that.”
Avery rolled her eyes. “What are you going to do when you move away? Can you do remote story times?”
She watched some of the grin fade before he said, “I will miss that. I like talking to kids. Because I’m so good at it. You should have hung around to watch me work.” He turned away so it was impossible to read any emotion on his face. Were his feelings hurt that she’d left before he finished?
“If it’s any consolation,” Avery said softly, “I did want to put on the helmet.” She waited for him to laugh but he turned back to her, his eyes serious.
“You gonna tell me why you were so worried?” Sam asked. “Or should I skip to the favor I’d like to ask?”
Avery chewed and pointed at her mouth to show that she was too busy for talking until he pretended to snatch the treat out of her hand. “Fine. To hear you talking about cheating death...” She shook her head. “I spent so long begging for one more minute with Robert that I...”
Sam sighed. “Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories of the perfect love of your life.” Sam stared in the other direction while Avery finished her pie.
“He was the love of my life.” Avery crumpled the bag. “I miss him every day, but that doesn’t mean he was perfect, Sam. He’s gone, so it’s easy to forget that. But neither of us was perfect.” As she sat here with him, staring out over the town, that lack of perfection bothered her less than it had for years. She had a list of things she should have done better, ways she should have taken care of Robert, words she should have said, but that list was harder to remember this afternoon.
She should be thanking Sam for that.
“Think you’ll ever find another?” Sam asked. “Love of your life? I’m wondering, since I can’t seem to find a love of my this week.” He bumped her shoulder.
If she knew the answer to that, Avery had a feeling her optimism might take a sharp upturn. Falling for Robert had seemed inevitable. The first day she’d seen him striding across campus, late for whatever meeting he’d set himself, she knew he was the man who could change her life. Had she imagined that meant dropping out of school, becoming a faculty wife and learning how to fill her days with volunteer work? Not really. Avery Abernathy had never thought that way.
“What’s the favor?” Avery asked.
Instead of pushing the conversation, Sam said, “I got a call. From the Highland crew recruiter. They want me to fly out for a conversation. Not an interview, but a conversation. They’ll also be doing fitness testing.”
The sugar buzz she’d been enjoying evaporated in an instant. “Hey, that’s great.” She’d just realized how much she needed his help, but it seemed he really was going to be moving on. “When?”
“This week. I cleared it at the reserve, so I’m going to go.” He ran a hand down his nape. “Haven’t told my mother yet.”
He met her stare and then shrugged. “Don’t guess you’d want to do that for me?” Avery pretended to punch him, but he held up both hands. “I’m kidding. Mostly.”
“Who was it who was bragging—” Avery leaned close enough to see the gold flecks in his hazel eyes “—bragging about escaping fire, destruction and angry mama bears ten minutes ago? That was you.”
“Yeah, but now we’re talking about hurting my mother.” Sam rubbed the center of his chest. “How did you do it?”
“How did I break my mother’s heart?” Avery drawled slowly. “Well, the first time, it was to go away to school, something we both wanted. Then I dropped out of law school, married a man she never approved of because he was almost twelve years older than me, and nearly killed myself watching him die from cancer.” Avery squeezed the balled-up bag hard. “After you do it the first time, hurt them, it gets easier.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
“No, it doesn’t.” Avery had to clear her throat before she could continue. “But you should go for it, Sam, live your own life. I had to. I have the scars now, but you have to go for what you want. Your mother knows you’re hoping for this. She’ll support you.”
“Yeah.” Sam waved as Noah and Miranda came tromping out of the library. They seemed to be arguing over something, but it was hard to make out their words.
“They remind me of us,” Sam said. “He’s going to charge out into the world, and she’s going to change it. Passionately.” He shivered. “I would not want to face her in a criminal trial. She’s a baby shark right now. When she grows into her teeth, the world better look out.”
“It’s okay for her to be passionate and smart, Sam,” Avery said, stung at his description of Miranda and her. “That doesn’t make her a shark, or only cut out to be a lawyer. Imagine that passion aimed at curing cancer.” Someday there would be a cure. There had to be. Too many people’s lives were ravaged by it. Someone would find the answer. Why couldn’t it be Miranda, the argumentative little girl who wanted to be right?
Sam studied her face. “You’ve got me wrong. I admire both the passion and the smarts. Noah and I can be brave, sometimes foolish, too, but I’ll never cure cancer or finish law school or...a million other things that Miranda will do. The world needs her.”
This was the perfect opening to ask him to help her get her feet back under her, but he was watching her so closely that the words dried up on her lips. “And the world needs firefighters, Sam. Promise me you’ll be more careful.” She gave him the threatening stare she’d perfected at twelve.
“I’m always careful, AA,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “It’s like you don’t know me anymore.”
Did she? Settling into their old pattern had been easy, but she hadn’t spent much time considering that Sam might be any different from the boy she’d known. Had he changed at all?
At seventeen, the future had been something to worry about the day after tomorrow, not on sunny days when there was adventure around the corner. This goal to join a regional crew could meld the two, going for the adventure with an eye to the future.
Sam checked his watch. “I have the best timing. You need to get back to work. We don’t want to give your boss any other reason to fire you, other than poor performance, I mean. What do you think? About the favor? Can you distract my mother until I get back?”
Good. A ticking clock. She’d always been more impulsive when she could hear time running out. Adding that to trash talk and she was ready to slam-dunk his favor. “When are you leaving?”
“Tuesday morning. Should be back Thursday. Prepare yourself for a great deal of Regina Blackburn.” Sam blew out a breath. “I’m so glad you’re back. If you could manage to appear punier, less flushed with fried dough and sugar, that would be great. They can nurse you, and before anyone knows I’m gone, I’ll be back.”
Avery stared straight at him. “I’m supposed to fake a decline. That is what you mean, right? Not that I’m so weak I’ll be happy to have nurses.”
Sam shook his head. “You are sitting on top of a fire engine. Get a grip.” He snorted. “Weak. I can’t even...”
Relieved, Avery said, “All right. I’ll keep the mothers busy, but I need some help when you get back, too.” She wanted to believe he hadn’t changed, and she wanted to prove to him and to herself that she could change, could get some of the old Avery back.
Sam was already nodding as he eased around her and stepped down to the ground in a graceful, athletic move that there was no way she’d be able to replicate. Maybe if she had her jeans and boots.
“Whatever it is you need from me, you’ve got it. Step here, and then I’ll help you down.” He held out both hands and made grabbing motions, almost like she was a bag of cement he was prepared to catch. Flattering.
Instead of studying how far it was to the ground, Avery followed his direction. With one quick step, she was falling, but Sam guided her down, his hands solid on her hips, with a soft, steady landing.
Avery could feel the muscles in his shoulders shift under her hands. In his official navy T-shirt and olive cargo pants, Sam was strong and handsome but a regular guy, not a man who could be gone in the second when a fire leaped out of control. He was Sam, the kid who’d made her mad enough to spit and laugh so hard she cried, but he was more. It was tempting to stand there with him until the warm sunshine disappeared.
“You okay, AA?” Sam asked as he bent to stare into her eyes. “Do I need to check your pulse again?”
“I had to catch my breath,” Avery grumbled. “What good does checking my pulse do, anyway?” She shoved back from him and ran both hands down her skirt, annoyed at herself and him.
“When your eyes are that fiery? It’s overkill. It’s clear you’re alive and breathing at this point.” Sam crossed his arms over his wide chest and Avery wanted to smack herself on the forehead. His chest was wide. He was tall and strong and so alive. And that was the part she wanted most.
“In exchange for distracting the mothers, I need you to help me—” Avery still wasn’t sure what to call it “—take more chances. Do more things. Get out there.”
Sam raised an eyebrow.
“I want to be more like the old me, the one who would scoff at the idea of needing someone to push her to chase adventure.” Avery waved at Astrid, who was watching from the door. Break time was long over. “Can you do that? Dare me?”
“Only if you’ll call me your life coach.” Sam sighed heavily. “Or an expert, a life expert, something that shows my value. I could put that on my résumé.”
Avery shook her finger. “You’ll do it or else. I’ll convince the mothers you broke my heart and woe unto you.” Then she marched toward the door.
“Hey, AA,” Sam called, “thanks for the help. I needed it. Got any advice for me? A pep talk to send me on my way?” He held both hands out, like he was ready and waiting for the encouraging part of their conversation.
Avery stopped, amazed that he’d admit such a thing. As a kid, he’d never admit to needing her help with anything. This time, it was easy to find the right words.
“This interview? You’ve got it. They’d be foolish not to pick you.” Standing there in his uniform, the park’s engine behind him, Sam was calendar material, but more important, he had zero ability to give up. A heavy weight settled over Avery’s shoulders at the realization that she couldn’t say the same thing about herself. She had quit, but that didn’t mean it was permanent. “Call me to let me know how it goes. I’ll be the one languishing on the couch, asking for my robe and slippers.”
Before he could answer, she ducked back inside the library, where Astrid was seated at the desk, Pippi curled in a ball in her arms. Avery had a job, of sorts. She had a way to get some of herself back, of sorts. When Sam returned, things would get interesting.
And when he left, she’d be strong enough to continue on her own.
* * *
AS SAM BRAKED in the unloading zone at the Knoxville airport, he said a quick prayer that Avery was ready for a rough couple of days. His mother’s first few quiet sniffles had made tiny cuts across his heart, but he’d reached the point where he was numb. If she’d ever asked him once not to go or implied that he was hurting her by going, he’d have canceled everything, called off the shot he’d been daydreaming of for weeks.
Instead, she kept up a cheerful stream of chatter about all the wonders of the Rocky Mountains and how much fun he would have learning the trails there. She was doing her best to encourage him while clutching a ragged tissue in one hand.
“Mom,” Sam said as he took her hand in his, “don’t worry. I’m sure they’re talking to a dozen candidates. This is a...test. That’s all. I’ll be home before the weekend.”
His mother sighed, a long sound that mixed a gasp for air and a sob. “They’ll be fools not to hire you.”
“Avery said the same thing. It’s good to know I’ve got my fans.” He pulled his mother close. “Keep an eye on her while I’m gone.”
His mother jerked. “An eye on Avery? She’s a fan?” He could see the calculations start in her eyes and said another quick prayer for Avery. “You talked to her about your plans?”
She didn’t say it, but it was on the tip of her tongue: “You talked to her about your dream?”
“You asked me to check on her, so I did. She’s, well, working at the library.” He didn’t mention the way she’d folded when he’d celebrated the dangers of his job or how terrible she was at hers. His mother wouldn’t welcome the reminder that sometimes nature and fire were both unpredictable. “You could talk to her about her investments, make sure she’s thinking of her future.”
His mother had retired from investment planning the year before. He’d assumed a hobby other than cards with her friends and worrying about him would appear. She and Janet had been working on projects here and there in Sweetwater, but he didn’t know much about what occupied their days. They never called him for bail money, so he figured they were doing fine.
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