by Lynn Shannon
Her brow creased. “She wasn’t on her own. Your mother had your aunt.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t change the facts. I ran away.”
“You got out of a situation that wasn’t healthy. For either of you.”
“I made promises, Sara. I swore to Pop I’d take care of Mom and protect her. I’ve broken every one of those promises.” He met her gaze. It was time she understood exactly who he was. “You think I’m some kind of hero. I’m not. I’m a coward in the worst way. I let down the people who love me. That’s the real Grant Edwards.”
He marched past her to the workbench. Put his hands to work cleaning some tools, while shame and embarrassment ate the lining of his stomach.
Sara sighed. “Grant, I don’t know the right words to use here, so I’m just going to speak from my heart. The Grant Edwards I see is a strong man struggling with a difficult situation. No one has all the right answers. Why should you?”
“I…don’t know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve run dangerous missions and stared down terrorists, but I can’t figure out how to honor Pop’s wishes. It doesn’t matter how many medals they pin to my chest. I’m failing at the only thing that mattered.”
“Failure is relative. Why did you come back to town?” Sara asked.
“Aunt Suzie called and said things were out of control. There’s a treatment facility in California called Helping Hands. They specialize in hoarding and depression. I came home to convince my mother to go there.”
“She won’t do it?”
His shoulders curved inward, and he sank back down to the stool. “No. She won’t even discuss it or look at the place. After the accident, she didn’t even want to stay in Aunt Suzie’s house. I had to threaten her.”
“Threaten her?”
“I said if she didn’t stay, I would go to court and get a medical power of attorney over her so I could force medical decisions.” Saying the words out loud made him feel three feet tall. “Aunt Suzie has been urging me to do it. The house isn’t safe, so Mom can’t live there. Without treatment, even if I clean out the house, in six months or a year we’ll be right back in this situation.”
“Because she’ll get new stuff and keep hoarding.”
He nodded. “Something has to give. I don’t know what the right decision is.”
Sara was quiet for a long moment. “Mind over matter, isn’t that what they teach in the military? If you believe a mission is doomed, then it’ll fail.”
That was the last thing he expected to come out of her mouth. He frowned. “Yeah.”
“I think the same thing applies to the conversations with your mom. If you go into it believing that it’ll all fall apart, then it will.” She peered into the open front end of the truck. “You’ve made a lot of progress, but it seems to me there’s more you could do. I’m sure another set of hands would help. I think you should ask your mom.”
His brows lifted. “My mom?”
Her gaze drifted around the garage. “She left this place exactly as it was when your dad died. And yesterday, when we talked about the fact that you’d fixed my car, she said you were just like your dad. You could fix anything.”
Grant twisted the thought through his mind. His mother hadn’t touched the garage. But she also hadn’t thrown a fit when he opened it and started using the tools. “She was saving it for me.”
“Maybe somehow, deep inside, she knew you would need it.”
“I did. Working on the truck has helped me feel closer to my dad.”
She nodded. “We all have different struggles. When the world was falling down around me, you taught me a valuable lesson. To reach out and ask for help. It’s simple, but I feel guilty for imposing on others.” She smiled softly. “I suspect your mom and I have that in common.”
She walked over to the bench and picked up her purse, slinging the giant bag over her shoulder. “Maybe it’s time you try a different approach. Let her be your mom, Grant. Ask her for help and then tell her the truth about how you feel.”
He winced and tightened his hold on the wrench. “I’m not good at that. Telling people how I feel.”
“I know. But you’re getting better.”
Sara approached, her heels tapping against the sealed concrete. She bent down and brushed a kiss across his cheek before backing up to snag his gaze. “And stop avoiding me, okay? I can’t flirt with a friend who won’t answer the phone.”
He smiled, a weight lifting from his shoulders. Whatever else happened, he and Sara were okay. “You got it. And Sara…thanks.”
She winked. “Just returning the favor, Edwards. Just returning the favor. Kinda nice to rescue you for a change.”
13
Sara
Sara shifted on the hard bleachers and took a drink of water. Down on the field, little league practice was underway. Ben bounced in the dugout, waiting for his turn at bat.
“I can’t believe you didn’t bring cupcakes to practice this time.” Rachel glared at her own bottle of water. “I was hoping for a dessert. It makes practice more enjoyable.”
“Next time. I promise.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, then, you’re going to have to entertain me another way. How are things going with Grant? I want all the juicy details.”
“There are no juicy details.”
“Liar.” Her sister smiled to take the sting out of the word. “At least tell me you’re having lots of fun and flirting.”
Sara nodded. They were having fun and flirting, but there was also something deeper happening. It was hard to believe that Grant had only arrived in town a week and a half ago. It felt like their friendship had shifted dramatically. Deepened.
Of course, she hadn’t told her sister about Grant’s mom. That wasn’t her secret to share. She’d talked to Grant on the phone again last night, and the conversation had been lighthearted and easy. It was a rare thing to find someone to be serious with and then also have a laugh with too.
If Sara was being completely honest with herself, she’d have to acknowledge there were feelings there. More than attraction and more than friendship. Somehow, Grant had slipped under her defenses and into her heart. But she didn’t want to think about it. He wasn’t staying in Hidden Hollows. In the next few days, he’d pack a bag and life would go back to the way it was before he showed up.
Except…except Sara knew she would never be the same. He’d changed her.
But again, she didn’t want to think about it.
Sara picked at the water bottle label with her fingernail. “Hey, Rachel, were you able to get any more volunteers from the hospital? I’m still looking for a few to help us break down after the event is over on Saturday.”
“Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder.” Rachel reached for her phone. “I did talk to a few people. Want me to message the list over to you?”
“That’d be great.”
“Everyone in town is excited about The Dixie Kings performance. I heard several people talking at Coop’s Coffee yesterday. Word is spreading that the city council is threatening to pull the library funding. Folks are upset and filing complaints.”
Sara nodded and continued picking at the label. “The mayor called me about it yesterday. She’s still working to convince the city council, and the complaints back her up. Let’s hope it’s enough.”
Ben burst out of the dugout and raced across the field. Sara smiled to see his excitement. He was so cute in his uniform and helmet. Coach Burns set the ball on the peg, and Ben stepped up to the plate. His face screwed up in concentration. He swung, and the ball flew.
Sara leapt to her feet, cheering along with Rachel. A man on the other side of the field also whooped as Ben ran the plates. Sara immediately recognized the broad shoulders, ball cap, and aviator glasses. It was Grant.
“Isn’t that Grant?” Rachel asked, pointing to him.
“It is. I’ll be right back.”
Was everything with his mom okay? Sara ran down the bleacher steps, her shoes banging against the
metal. She hit the grass and started jogging to meet Grant halfway. Her heart was in her throat.
A broad smile broke out on his face, putting her fears to rest. This must be good news. Her steps faltered. Good night, the man was gorgeous.
Grant covered the distance between them in swift strides. He scooped Sara up in a giant hug and swung her around. “Your idea worked!”
She laughed, a thrill racing through her at the feel of his strong arms around her waist. The muscles in his back rippled under her palms. A whistle blew as the coach called baseball practice to a halt, followed by cheers from the tiny players.
Grant set Sara on her feet but kept his hands on her hips. “I did what you said and asked my mom for help in the garage. An hour later, she appeared. Dressed, hair combed. We spent a long time talking about Pop. Then I told her about how much I love her, and that I want her to be happy. I explained the hoarding is making it hard for us to have a relationship. I want to visit and bring people to the house. Mom didn’t agree to go to treatment, but she did say she’d think about it. Sara, it was the best conversation we’ve had…well, since Pop died.”
Her heart swelled. “Grant, I’m so happy for you.”
“I’ve been grieving, and she has too, but instead of leaning on each other, we’ve been avoiding the discussion.”
“Maybe you both needed time to get to a place where you could talk about it.”
He nodded. “That’s probably true. After Pop died, things were very raw. They’re still painful now, but it’s not the same.”
“Mommy!” Ben called. The little boy raced toward her. “Did you see me hit the home run?”
“I did.” She caught him in her arms and hugged him tight. “You did an amazing job.”
“Sure did,” Grant echoed. He ruffled Ben’s hair. “I was so impressed. You kept your eye on the ball.”
“I remembered what you said at practice last time.” Ben beamed up at Grant, then turned to Sara. “Mommy, can we get ice cream to celebrate?”
“Definitely. Let’s find Aunt Rachel and ask if she and Michel want to join us.”
“They don’t. Aunt Rachel said Uncle John is coming home early tonight, so they’re going to see a movie. She’ll call you tomorrow.” He grabbed Grant’s hand. “Do you want to come with us for ice cream?”
Grant grinned. “Sure. I’d love to.”
Ben wiggled with excitement and gave a shout of joy. They took a few minutes to gather his sports bag and put it in the trunk of Sara’s car. Then the three of them decided to walk to the ice cream shop. Ben tucked himself between Sara and Grant, holding both their hands. He kept up a steady stream of conversation, giving a play-by-play of the entire practice.
They passed by the car mechanic shop, and Grant paused on the sidewalk. He glanced at Sara. “Do you mind crossing the street for a second?”
“No, of course not.”
It was his father’s old shop. The three-car garage had an office and a storage area. Glass entry doors leading to the tiny waiting room were smeared with dirt. One of the panes was cracked, and weeds grew between the cracks of the concrete drive. A large FOR SALE sign hung on the door, accompanied by a phone number.
“What’s this?” Ben asked.
“It’s a car repair shop. My dad used to own it.”
Grant stepped forward and ripped off a piece of the peeling logo. The previous owner had simply pasted his logo over the old one. Underneath was the familiar red and white logo Grant’s dad had used. The letter W appeared from EDWARDS CAR REPAIR.
Grant traced it with his finger. “I hate that the place is rundown like this, Sara. Pop built it before I was born. It would kill him to see it like this.”
He took out his phone and typed in the number on the FOR SALE sign.
Sara’s breath hitched. “Are you thinking of buying it?”
“I don’t know.” He peeled away another strip from the newer logo, revealing more of his dad’s. “I have money saved up. I could purchase it as an investment. It’s annoying to drive into the next town for parts when I want to work on the truck. I bet the Hidden Hollows residents think so too.”
Disappointment stabbed her. An investment property meant Grant wasn’t thinking of moving to Hidden Hollows permanently.
Why was she even thinking of that? Maybe because a part of her wanted him too. Sara’s feelings for him were growing by the day, and, although they were only flirting friends, she wished they could be more. A lot more.
It was terrifying to admit that. Even if it was only to herself. No matter how hard she tried to keep her heart out of the equation, it didn’t want to listen.
But of course, Grant’s job as a Navy SEAL was important to him. He was used to adrenaline and excitement. It was silly to believe he’d ever want to settle down and live a quiet life in Hidden Hollows.
“What do you think?” Grant asked. “Do you think it’s worth buying?”
“The residents do find it annoying to drive all the way to the next town for parts,” she said. “A simple oil change eats up a lot of time. And forget it if your car breaks down or needs something more serious.”
Ben peeled away his own strip of the old logo. “Where’s your dad now, Coach Grant?”
“He’s in heaven.”
Ben nodded solemnly and slipped his tiny hand into Grant’s. “My daddy’s in heaven too.”
Sara’s chest squeezed so tight it hurt to breathe. She couldn’t have edged a word past the lump in her throat if she tried. Ben rarely spoke about Jared, probably because he didn’t remember him. Not really. He’d only been two when Jared died. Sara had pictures up in their home, and she told Ben stories about his dad, but it wasn’t the same.
Seeing Ben holding Grant’s hand was a stark reminder of everything her little boy had lost when his dad died.
Grant knelt so he was eye-level with Ben. “I knew your daddy. Very well. He and I were best friends.”
“You were?”
“Yep. We met in kindergarten.” Grant’s gaze lifted to Sara before focusing back on the little boy in front of him. “In fact, I have a lot of stories about your daddy to share. Would you like to hear one?”
Ben nodded, his hair bouncing with the movement.
For a minute, Sara allowed herself to wish that things could be different. That Grant would stay in Hidden Hollows, and they could make their relationship work. A part of her yearned for it so badly, it hurt.
Not just for her. For Ben too. Grant would be a wonderful father, and he’d never feel jealous or competitive of Jared’s memory. He loved Jared as much as Sara did.
Grant rose and held out his hand for Ben to take. “Your dad wanted to go fishing. We were…maybe a year older than you are now.”
Sara fell into step beside them as they crossed the street again toward the ice cream store. She’d never heard this story before.
“He had a Scooby Doo fishing pole, and your grandparents had a large fish tank. Your dad waited until your grandma was working on her garden outside. Then he and I stuck some bread on the hook and dunked it into the fish tank.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “Did you catch anything?”
Grant laughed. “Your dad did. He caught the biggest fish in the tank and threw it on the carpet. It was flopping around. We started screaming, and his mom came in. She managed to get it back in the tank.”
Sara laughed. “Benny, do not try that.”
“That’s good advice from your mom, Ben.” Grant pulled open the door. As Sara passed him, he whispered, “Sorry. I didn’t realize I’d be giving him ideas.”
She laughed again. “It’s okay. Share all the stories you want. It’s good for him to hear about his dad.”
Grant’s dimple flashed, and her heart stuttered. She was tempted to lean in and kiss his cheek but resisted. Instead, she stepped inside the store.
It was decorated in the classic style, with bright colors and antique-looking furniture. Buckets of ice cream were displayed behind a glass wall. Several of
Ben’s teammates were in the shop along with their parents. Ice cream was a popular treat after practice.
Ben had his face pressed against the glass next to the register. “Mom, I want the one with all of the crazy colors.”
“Okay. One scoop of that in a cup,” Sara said to Molly, the twenty-something behind the counter. “And I’ll take a scoop of the chocolate chunk.”
Molly batted her eyes at Grant. “What about you?”
Grant looked distinctly uncomfortable at the woman’s attention. He placed a hand on the small of Sara’s back, and a thrill raced through her.
“I’ll have a scoop of the chocolate chunk as well.” He grinned at Sara. “I figure you won’t steer me wrong.”
She chuckled. “Nope. It’s my favorite. Do you mind watching Ben for a moment? I want to use the restroom.”
“Of course not. We’ll grab a table.”
The bathrooms were in the back, and Sara weaved her way to them. She slipped inside the stall just as the door to the bathroom opened and two women came in. Sara heard her name and paused.
“…Sara Wilson of all people. Can you believe Grant Edwards is dating her?”
Sara peeked through the gap in the stall and saw two women from little league practice. Harmony Phillips, the former cheerleader, and one of her best friends, Janet.
Harmony tossed her long blonde hair over one shoulder and laughed. “Grant always had a flavor of the month. This time it’s Sara. But it won’t last, mark my words.”
“I dunno. Did you see the way he looked at her at Miller’s Tavern?”
“Grant knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s all calculated. I’m telling you.” Harmony dug around in her purse and unearthed some lipstick. “Sara’s not interesting enough to keep him for long. Grant has always had something of a rebellious streak and a taste for danger. This small town can’t keep him happy.”
Sara chewed on the inside of her cheek. Hadn’t the same thoughts occurred to her? Grant had always been honest about leaving Hidden Hollows.