by JoAnn Durgin
A glint of surprise surfaced in his eyes as he turned to face her. “What do you mean?”
“I think we should get it all out in the open. Get it over once and for all, and then we can move on. As friends.”
“I’m game,” he said, his brow furrowed. “Let’s get whatever it is—as you put it—on the table.”
Sarah took in a quick breath as a way to bolster her nerves. “Unless I’m incredibly naïve, when we talked on my porch, you implied you’d like a relationship. With me. Between the two of us. As in—”
“Right. As in boyfriend and girlfriend. Dating. Holding hands. Kissing on the doorstep.” He nodded to the creek. “Moonlight swims. I don’t think I could be any clearer about what I want, Sarah.”
“I know what dating is,” she said, holding up one hand. “I might not have done much of it, but that’s my point. Argument number one, you’re much older than me, and a man of the world—”
Sam released a groan of frustration. “Six years isn’t all that much. It’s true what they say. The older you get, the less important age becomes. Trust me, I’m no man of the world, at least not in the way I think you mean. That description implies certain things that have nothing whatsoever to do with me or my lifestyle. Yes, I’ve dated. Plenty. I find girls fascinating and—especially when it concerns the one sitting next to me now—beyond frustrating on occasion. Sure, I might know how to pilot a jet, and I’ve lived across the world in another country for a few years while defending my country. But, deep down, I’m still the same guy from Rockbridge, Texas. No more, no less.”
“I didn’t mean to imply anything bad.” Sarah dropped her gaze, embarrassed. “But I’ve heard things about men in the service. The types of women—”
“You can rest assured I’m not that kind of guy, so to speak.”
“You mean you’ve never—”
“No, I haven’t.” Sam’s voice was firm and edged with irritation. “I thought you knew me—understood me—better than that. Frankly, I can’t believe we’re having this discussion.”
She dared to glance at him again, needing to lighten the mood. “You couldn’t possibly know what I was going to say. Maybe I was going to ask if you’ve ever played the trumpet, or gone to bed without brushing your teeth.”
They stared at one another for a few seconds before the corners of his lips twitched, relaxing his features. Much better. She hated to think she’d made him uncomfortable or mad. She wished his shirt wasn’t buttoned wrong and crooked, but no way would she fix those buttons. Put her hands on him. No, it definitely wouldn’t be a good idea.
“No to the first, and yes to the second,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “And I should append my statement by saying I wouldn’t until I’m in a committed, God-honoring marriage. Then? Oh yeah. Most definitely.”
Oh, my. No fair saying something like that, Captain.
“That settles it,” she said. “I could certainly never ponder the possibility of a situation with a man who doesn’t practice sound dental hygiene.”
“Well, then, I guess that settles the issue. If you ever decide you could be in a situation with a man with questionable dental hygiene, promise me I’ll be the first to know.”
With that, Sam hopped to his feet, dusted himself off, and headed in the opposite direction.
What was that all about? Sarah stared at him, his long strides carrying him quickly away from the creek.
“Sam?”
He raised his hand in the air. “Not now. I’m going home to brush my teeth.”
Chapter 17
♥
Feeling like a fool about the way he’d abruptly left Sarah at the creek the night before, Sam sat beside her again the next evening. No matter what happened—or didn’t happen—between them, he enjoyed her company. In recent days, he’d found himself checking the clock throughout the day and looking forward to lunch or his afternoon break. But it was these quiet times, after dinner when they sat by the creek sharing their thoughts, lives, dreams and the events of their day, that he loved most. When they didn’t meet at the creek, he missed her.
“I’m sorry I took off on you last night, Sarah.”
“Not a problem. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, that’s a blanket answer that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re okay.”
He shot her a grin. “I mean it. Really. My teeth are clean, just so you know. I brushed them before I walked over here.” Sprinted was more like it. Like a lovesick fool. Maybe he was.
“Fair enough,” she said, laughing quietly before her grin faded. “Listen, I want to talk with you about Mr. Benson and the donations.”
Not sure whether to be relieved she’d changed the subject or not, Sam nodded. Maybe it was for the best. “Sure. What about it?”
“Am I to assume Mr. Benson came to the bank and applied for a loan?”
Sam snapped his gaze to hers. “How could you possibly know that? And yes, but please don’t say a word to anyone since it’s confidential bank business.”
“I wouldn’t dream of discussing it with anyone else.” She shrugged. “Call it intuition. Headstones can be expensive, and I don’t think the Bensons have much extra money, even for something as important as a permanent marker for their son’s grave.”
What was she saying? “Are you reconsidering your offer to make the donation cans?”
“No, not at all. I’ve already made them. Mom and Tess helped, but I haven’t distributed them yet.” Smoothing her fingers over a patch of velvety-smooth, emerald green moss, Sarah appeared deep in thought. “I’d like to suggest that you think about something first. I know how prideful men can be about money. Before I distribute the donation cans to businesses all over town, I think you should discuss your idea with Mr. Benson.”
Contemplating her words, Sam nodded slowly. “Go on.”
“Think about it. He came to you, in private, to discuss a very personal issue. He might not appreciate everyone donating to the cause, as wonderful an idea as it is. Your motives are good, and I know Mr. Benson would understand that in time, but I’d just ask that you try to look at it from his viewpoint before we take that next step. Not to sound flippant, but Marty’s been gone for a while now, so I don’t believe there’s a rush to collect the money or to give him a loan.”
“I still need to give him an answer.” Sam had passed on the loan application to the proper officer at the bank, but he hadn’t heard yet whether it had been approved. He needed to get on that right away. Sarah was right, and he should have thought of that angle before.
“All I’m saying is, maybe you should propose your idea to him and see how he feels about it before we carry out the plan.” She sat up straighter and gave him a small smile. Sarah’s smile worked its way into his affections—admittedly, his heart—each time they were together, whether in private or in public. “You could tell him you know the townspeople would be glad to donate for such a worthy cause, tell him about the idea for the donation cans, and then suggest that you see how much is collected within a certain period of time. If it’s not quite enough for what he wants to do, and if he qualifies, then the bank can give him a loan.”
“But it wouldn’t be for nearly as large an amount.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “You are brilliant.”
Sarah appeared surprised by the kiss, but she didn’t pull away from his show of affection. “Thank you.” Avoiding his gaze, she selected a rock and tossed it across the creek.
“That the best you’ve got?” Choosing a larger rock on the ground beside him, he handed it to her. “Skim it.”
“I accept your challenge.” Jumping to her feet, Sarah wound up and sailed it across the creek.
“Much better. That’s the star softball player I remember.”
She sat back down beside him again. Another benefit of spending so much time with her was being able to read her emotions a bit better, as much as that was possible. Sarah was a very expressive, passionate girl. She didn’t p
lay games, she didn’t say things to try and test him in any way. Neither did she set out to tempt him, but she managed to accomplish that quite well. And now, Sam knew something weighed on Sarah’s mind. He’d wait it out, knowing she’d broach the subject when she was ready.
It didn’t take long. When she shifted to face him, he watched her, prepared to listen.
“Sam, what was that conversation in the diner all about?”
He could play dumb and act like he didn’t know which one she meant, but Sarah deserved better than a vague response or for him to play it off as if it was nothing.
“Charlie has appointed himself as my dating consultant. He thinks it’s time I choose a candidate.” That hadn’t come out right, and he ran his hand through his hair. “Not that it’s any kind of contest or competition.”
“That’s what I figured. No offense, but you’ve been pretty cranky lately. A date might help improve your disposition.” She gave him a grin which he didn’t return. “So, have you thought about which girl you’d like to ask out?”
Turning his head sharply, Sam stared at the creek. Clearing his throat, he kept his gaze trained straight ahead since he didn’t trust himself to look at her while discussing his non-existent love life. Especially with the one girl he most wanted to date.
“Are you still thinking? Because if you have to think that hard about it, I can make some suggestions.”
The muscles in his jaws flexed. “I’m not actively seeking a girl to date, Sarah. You, of all people, should know that.”
“I want to see you happy.” Sarah leveled her beautiful brown eyes on him. Flecks of warm honey danced in those eyes. If she started spouting the let’s be really good friends speech, Sam wasn’t sure what he’d do. Talk about a frustrating female. From the set of her chin, and the spark in her eyes, Sarah was about to share her opinion. Talk about a creature of habit. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to kiss her. Talk about consuming need.
“I am happy, but you don’t seem to get that.” Fine, he’d humor her. This conversation could prove enlightening in spite of his misgivings. “Go right ahead.”
“Not to make you uncomfortable, but candidate number one. My sister.”
He blew out a breath. “If I had any interest in dating Tess, I would have asked her out a long time ago. End of story, as you would say.”
“But she’s your age, skinny, the prettiest girl in the region with the tiaras to prove it—”
“Is that all you think I care about?” Did she know him at all? He had to wonder. “Physical looks?”
“Well, no. Of course not. I didn’t mean to imply that, but if you want to talk fact, you’re a very handsome man, Sam. Brave, strong, a military veteran.” Her voice had grown quiet, and her cheeks blossomed with a sweet pink flush. “Do I need to keep going?”
“You think I’m handsome?” He said it a teasing manner, intending to play it off if she was only trying to placate him. Her compliments massaged his bruised ego, but he needed to get over himself, see what she had in mind, and then figure out his next plan of action.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Don’t let it swell your head. How about Janet Marks?”
“Nope. She’s fixated on Deputy Ron.”
“Tommy’s newest sidekick? She is? Hmm. I didn’t know that. How is it you’ve only been home for such a short time and yet you know this?”
“Watch them when they’re both in the diner at the same time. Plain as day.”
“I’ll do that. Now you’re making me wonder what else I’ve missed. Maybe I need to reevaluate my powers of observation. I’m impressed by yours, I have to say. Any other couples you know about? Let’s get them out of the way now so we can rule out any other potential dating candidates.”
He swallowed his mounting frustration. “You’re busy in the diner and can’t see everything. Okay, here’s another one. Tammy Simpson likes Randy Sweet.”
She sat up straighter at that comment, just as he suspected. Fair or not, he’d thrown that one out there to gauge her reaction. Nothing like putting out the bait to see if she’d bite. He’d heard all the rumors pairing Randy with Sarah. Charlie told him what Fire Captain Sweet had announced to half the town at the Fourth of July picnic last summer. He’d laughed it off, but that niggling question in Sam’s mind wouldn’t leave him alone.
Randy Sweet had apparently caught wind of the fact that he’d been coming to the diner on a regular basis. He’d strutted into the diner earlier in the week, coinciding with his usual afternoon break. After a courteous nod in his direction, Randy parked himself on a counter seat where he’d monopolized Sarah’s attention for an indecent length of time. No one could tell him that was coincidence, not that he believed in such a thing.
“Is that right?” Was it his imagination, or did she squirm? Could she hold some tiny bit of affection for Randy, after all?
“And does Randy like Tammy?”
“Not from what I can see. He has his eye on someone else in town.”
That statement caused the corners of her mouth to downturn. “If you’re talking about me, then you can forget it right now. Randy knows I have no intention of dating him, and besides, I’m—”
“You’re leaving Rockbridge as soon as you can. Right.” Stretching out his legs, Sam couldn’t keep the exasperation from his voice. “Tell me something else the entire town doesn’t know.” That came out sharper than he’d intended. If he didn’t watch it, he’d push Sarah so far away he’d never have a chance.
Sam heard her quick intake of breath. “Sounds like Kathy Parker might be more your type than I’d thought.”
“Bite your tongue.” He met her gaze. “Never.”
“Cindy Gray?”
“Too involved in all that feminist stuff. And don’t start a debate with me on that one. You know I have all the respect in the world for women, and I like to believe my views on those subjects are modern and progressive…to a point.”
“Cheryl Simms?” At least she hadn’t pushed the women’s liberation issue.
“Too short. Sorry, and call me lazy, but I don’t want to get a permanent crick in the neck by having to sit down or perch a girl on a step to kiss her.”
Sarah giggled, and the sound of her laughter relaxed him a little. “If she were your type, I’m sure you’d make an exception. Pity the girl if she wanted to kiss you or she’d strain her neck. Okay, how about Marsha Barton? Now, she’s a cute girl. Don’t you agree?”
Would her list of potential girls to date never end? “Nope. As superficial as this probably makes me sound, she always has spit in the corners of her mouth when she talks.”
“Excuse me? Really?” He could tell she was trying her best not to laugh.
“Take a close look at her sometime. Right here.” He pointed to one corner of his mouth. “Spittle. Isn’t that what it’s called? Sad, but true.”
“I’ll take your word for it. How about Tina Hardesty?”
“Nope. Tina wears too much makeup. She wears so much stuff on her lips that a guy would slide right off her mouth if he tried to kiss her.”
That ridiculous comment made her laugh. “Candy Wright?”
Shaking his head, Sam made a tsk tsk sound. “I refuse to date a woman named Candy. If you ask me, she should consider marrying Randy Sweet.”
“Candy Sweet? Wait! Candy and Randy Sweet? That’s perfect! You should suggest it to him.” Sarah threw her head back, laughing even harder. Her long hair slipped from its ponytail holder and tumbled around her shoulders. She was distracting enough with her hair back, highlighting the beauty of her face, but with it down, she was breathtaking. Yeah, he’d definitely be thinking of this image for a long time. Those gorgeous blonde waves—combined with all the rest of Sarah Jordan—could give even a devout monk serious reason to rethink his vows.
“I know!” She snapped the fingers of one hand. “Sylvie Foster. What’s not to like? She’s tall, very pretty with all that dark hair, has a normal name, doesn’t have an excess saliva problem as far as I kn
ow, and she’s not a feminist from all appearances. Yes, I think Sylvie’s absolutely perfect for you. What do you think?”
Sam closed his eyes, counting to ten under his breath. “Does this mean you won’t come to the dance on Saturday night?”
Surprising him, Sarah groaned and fell on her back, covering her face with her arm.
“It’s a simple question. Yes or no will suffice.”
She moved her arm and glanced up at him. If Charlie had dared him, in that moment, he would have leaned over and kissed her until she was breathless and begged for more. He should do it, anyway, but she wasn’t ready. Would she ever be ready? With Sarah beside him now, so pretty and tempting, his mind was going in all kinds of directions.
Lord, forgive me and help keep my thoughts honorable.
“No, I’m not going,” she said. “You’re going to ask Sylvie. End of story.”
That comment cut him down to size.
Lord, this is torture. I need to change her mind.
“There you are!” They both turned. Within seconds, Tess appeared, gasping and panting. “Mom’s looking for you, Sarah, and needs you to come home. I figured you were probably here.” Tess didn’t bother to disguise her surprise at seeing them together. “What I didn’t expect was seeing you here, too, Sam. Imagine that.” She moved her gaze to Sarah with a raised brow.
“Hey, Tess.” Although he nodded, Sam was perturbed at the interruption and didn’t bother disguising his irritation.
Sarah quickly rose to her feet and slipped into her shoes. “Sam, I’ll see you again soon and we can talk more, if you want.”
“I’ll try to stop by the diner for lunch tomorrow.” He didn’t make a move to leave and sat watching them. What a dumb thing to say. He went to the diner every day like clockwork the same as Perry Sellers always did. And every day, he sat in Sarah’s section. Then he’d leave her a ridiculously large tip which she’d finally given up trying to protest.
“Sure. I’ll see if I can take a break. Bye.”
Sam forced a smile, recognizing that telltale gleam in Tess’s eyes. Sarah was going to be on the receiving end of chastisement or questioning worthy of a law enforcement official. Or both. Coming from Tess, he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Another thing he knew: he wouldn’t be discussing his love life further with Sarah. She could toss out all the names on the planet, but he had to do what he could to convince the stubborn woman that she was the only one he wanted to date.