by JoAnn Durgin
Rising to his feet, Sam dusted off his shorts and started off behind them. He’d keep his distance, but close enough to step in if Sarah needed him. Not that she couldn’t hold her own against Tess. Matter of fact, she was used to handling her older sister, so she’d be just fine without him.
That didn’t stop him.
Just keep on walking.
♥
“Are you going to tell me or do I have to drag it out of you?” Tess demanded as soon as they were a reasonable distance away. The glances she’d darted her way had been borderline accusatory. “Why was Sam there?”
“He comes sometimes.” Sarah shrugged. “We talk. I thought you already knew that.”
Stopping, Tess moved her hands down to her hips and stared at her. “Tell me the truth, little sister. Are you dating Sam?”
Sarah laughed, but the sound rang hollow. “Hardly. Come on, Tess. You know we’re just friends, the same as always. We talk about all kinds of things. As a matter of fact, when you interrupted, I was suggesting names of girls for him to consider dating. I’m glad he feels comfortable enough to confide in me.”
“My name wasn’t among the ones you suggested, I imagine.” It wasn’t a question.
“Well. . .”
Tess blew out a breath. “Admit it, Sarah. You don’t want me to date Sam because then you won’t have a chance with him. Don’t think I couldn’t feel all the sparks flying around the room the other night when he was at our house. I almost called Randy to come over with his fire hose to spray you and Sam down.”
Mirroring her, Sarah moved her hands to her hips. “Tess, look. It’s time to face the facts. Sorry to be blunt, but if Sam had an interest in dating you, don’t you think he would have asked you out years ago? I know he likes you, but he’s had numerous opportunities through the years.”
Tess’s blue eyes grew wide. “Did Sam tell you that or are you making it up?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
They stared at one another for a long moment. “Lie to me if you want, little sister, but don’t lie to yourself. I’ve seen the way you look at Sam.” She moved her gaze away and dropped her hands to her sides. “The problem is, I’ve seen the way he looks at you, too.”
When Tess resumed walking, Sarah fell into step beside her. She wasn’t ready to have this discussion. Sometimes her sister possessed a remarkable clarity of vision.
I’m falling in love with Sam, yes, but is it possible he could feel something for me?
“Why’d you come find me, Tess? What’s the big emergency?”
“Mom’s trying to find their airline tickets. She’s having a hissy fit because she can’t put her hands on them. She thought you might know where they are, and she also needs our help to get all the laundry done. I’ve never seen her so out of sorts.” Tess’s words were matter of fact, her tone devoid of emotion.
Thankful for the change in topic, Sarah knew Tess had made it up as an excuse to seek her out since Mom and Dad weren’t leaving tomorrow. More likely than not, she’d wanted to find them together at the creek for her own reasons.
Sarah smiled. “I know Mom’s excited about their trip, and I can’t blame her.”
“You’re probably right,” Tess said, “especially considering she’s never flown before.”
“Can you imagine what it’s like, Tess?” Sarah raised her arms and twirled in a circle as she walked. “I’ve asked Sam what it’s like to fly, and he says that’s when he feels closest to God. It must be so exhilarating. Just up there, zooming around, soaring among the clouds. Like you can reach out and touch them. So white, fluffy, pretty. Doesn’t it sound wonderful?”
Tess smirked. “You and your fascination with flying. Why don’t you ask your creek companion to take you up in that vintage plane of his sometime? I’m sure he’d love the opportunity.”
Sarah quirked a brow as they reached the line of trees by the main road and headed for home. “Please don’t tell me you’re jealous, Tess. If that’s the case, there’s no reason.” Even as she said the words, a little niggling started in her mind.
“I’m not jealous. I would be, but I can tell that Sam’s not interested in me.” Tess smiled a little. “I think he and his plane will get along just fine soaring through life together.”
“I’m sure Sam will settle down eventually.” Even as Sarah said the words, the tug inside her grew more insistent.
“Right.” Tess kicked a stray pebble, sending it skittering across the road. “In spite of his best intentions, Captain Lewis will most likely tire of this little town soon enough and fly off into the sunset.”
Chapter 18
♥
May 26, 1962
Wiping down a table at Perry’s on Saturday night, Sarah glanced up when the bell jingled. Her traitorous heart lurched when she spied Sam standing in the doorway. She covered her mouth in an attempt not to laugh. What was he wearing? Thankfully, the only other patrons of the diner were Harold and Betty, and they were holding hands and staring into one another’s eyes. Like always. Predictable, yes, but in the best way imaginable. Those two lovebirds put all the younger couples in town to shame.
As if on cue, they stood and waved after leaving a few bills on the table for the check and her tip. Harold exchanged a few words with Sam, and then the older gentleman escorted Betty out the door.
“Find something amusing?” Sam quirked a brow as if challenging her.
Wow. Someone was in a cantankerous mood. Intuition warned her that this exchange could get interesting, if not heated. She’d never had an out-and-out argument with Sam, and she didn’t wish to start one now. He hadn’t come to the diner at all yesterday, the first day she could remember that he’d missed since he’d been home in Rockbridge. She’d wondered why, but she wasn’t about to ask the man.
Lord, please help both of us hold our tempers.
“No, not really,” she said. “I have to ask. What is that jacket—and I use that term loosely—you’re wearing? Or should I say it’s wearing you?”
Sam pivoted like a male model. Even in his silliness, the man was so very attractive. “It’s called a Nehru jacket. Why? You don’t like it? I think it’s cool. Groovy.” He shrugged. “Whatever you kids are calling it these days.”
She’d already insulted him and now she needed to be nice. “It’s a very good color on you.”
“It’s black, Sarah. The color is black. Actually, I’m not even sure it’s a color.”
“Sure it is,” she said. “Just like white.”
“Is that what everything is to you? Black and white?” Raising his hand, Sam started to rake his fingers through his hair. Apparently thinking better of it, he smoothed down a few strands on the top of his head. Of course, the action only drew attention to the fact that the ends of his hair curled over the top of his silly jacket.
She swallowed, focusing on Sam but feeling unsettled with the direction this conversation seemed to be headed. At the same time—knowing she’d regret it later but spurred on by some irrational need to aggravate him further—Sarah couldn’t hold her tongue. “No, I see things in color, too. But, tell me why would you even want to wear a jacket named after the prime minister of India?”
“Why not?” Sam’s eyes flashed as he leveled his gaze on her.
Sarah raised her chin. “For one thing, it’s got like a hundred tiny buttons. I should think that’d get annoying real quick.”
He stepped closer, standing in front of her. “Do you think it somehow makes me less of a Christian if I wear it? Tell me the truth.”
She stared at him. Why would he think, much less say, something like that? “That’s quite possibly the most ludicrous thing you’ve ever said.”
“Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging anyone, Sam, but it sounds to me like you’re trying to pick a fight.” Turning away from him, Sarah began cleaning another table. If she didn’t have to cover Patti’s shift, she wouldn’t even be working tonight. Why was he even here?
She counted to three below her breath before speaking. “I’ve always considered you one of the strongest Christian men I’ve ever known. Current behavior excepted.”
“I’m sorry.” He followed behind her. She bit her tongue not to call him Hershey. He definitely wouldn’t take kindly to being called by that nickname right now.
“Here’s a fun bit of trivia,” he said. “Want to know what the collar on this jacket is called?”
What an odd question. Shaking her head, she scooped up the money Harold left on the table. She walked to the register and quickly deposited the bills, dropping the change into the Benson Fund collection can on the counter. At least Martin Benson had agreed to their plan, and the donations were already mounting.
“Aren’t you going to pocket your tip?”
“Nope,” she said. “We were low on donations today.”
When she glanced at Sam, something in his expression softened. Moving over to Table 9, she scrubbed it with more energy than was warranted. “I’m sure I don’t know what the name of your collar is called.” What a silly thing to discuss. “I assume you have a date for the dance, after all?” What made her ask that question? Would she never learn? She glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost seven o’clock, and I’m sure somewhere in Rockbridge, a young lady is waiting for Captain Lewis to arrive and sweep her off her feet.”
“Now you’re mocking me?” If the situation weren’t so tense, she’d laugh. Sam’s eyes were a little wild, and he was clearly not amused.
“No, I’m not. I absolutely meant it.” Sarah returned to her work. “Any girl would be crazy not to want to go out with you.”
Sam blew out a breath. “Right. Which means you’re calling yourself crazy?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I am.” He made a valid point. More than anything on earth, she’d love to go out with Sam. Being near him set her pulse flying out the door and she hated the thought of him taking another girl on a date.
“I thought you’d be thrilled that I finally took your advice.”
Sarah stopped cleaning and met his gaze. “I am. Did you change your mind and ask out my sister? I’m sure Tess can easily answer your little trivia question. Although why it matters I have no idea,” she muttered under her breath.
Stop being so sarcastic.
“No,” he said. She was irritating him, which could be both a good and bad thing.
“I’m going out with Sylvie tonight. Out of all your potential dating candidates for me, she was the one voted most likely. Okay, that didn’t sound right, but you know what I mean.” Moving one hand to his hip, Sam shot her a glance simmering with barely contained aggravation. “According to the salesperson—and this is the only reason I know it—this collar is a”—he faltered, snapping his fingers—“what’s the name of those little orange slices in a can?”
Sarah stared at him. What was he talking about now? This entire conversation was increasingly inane. “Mandarins?”
“That’s it!” After he snapped his fingers, she caught a whiff of his cologne. Oh, but it was nice. Heady and overwhelmingly masculine. Sarah steeled herself not to sway. She’d never known a man could smell so wonderful.
“It’s called a mandarin collar.”
Focus. “Interesting way to remember it,” she said. “I have to wonder why you keep bringing up the collar. You must have left town to go shopping for your big night out. For one thing, you must have bought a bottle of very expensive cologne. And here I thought you hadn’t escaped Rockbridge since you’d returned home.” Wrong thing to say. Now she sounded jealous. And ridiculous. Moving to another table, Sarah began scrubbing it with renewed vigor.
Sam stepped even closer, making it impossible to ignore him. “I left town to get a few things, if you must know. And yes, I saw the Perry’s Diner billboard. It’s very nice.” His eyes bore into hers. “Do you like my cologne? Think Sylvie might like it?”
She gritted her teeth. “It’s very. . .nice. I’m sure she won’t be able to resist you.”
He stared at her for another few seconds, exasperation written in his creased brow, in the tiny little lines forming around the corners of his eyes, and on either side of his mouth. “One of these days, I’m hoping you’ll open those big brown eyes of yours and see what’s easily within your reach, Sarah. Under your nose, as it were. You just have to want it.”
Inside, she was quaking as her eyes settled on his chin. She couldn’t bring herself to look him directly in the eye. “I. . .” She gulped. “I. . .” The words wouldn’t come. “It’s not that I don’t want it, Sam. You must understand that. And it’s not to say I won’t ever want it. But maybe. . .at this point in time”—she heaved a sigh—“I want something else. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but I’m asking you to try and understand.”
A fleeting expression of confusion mixed with hurt flittered across his distractingly handsome features. He stepped so close the toes of his shoes touched hers. “You can’t have both at the same time? Because I think you can.”
She heaved a huge sigh. “Tell me how that’s even possible.”
“At least I’m not afraid to try new things.” His gaze traveled down to her feet. “And I don’t wear rubber-soled shoes intended for senior citizens.”
Okay, that comment pushed her to the brink. Seemed when the man’s feelings were hurt, Sam shot back with biting comments. Inside, Sarah seethed. “Why not go ahead and insult my hairnet and get that out of your system, too? Have at it. I’ll have you know these shoes are a necessity since I’m on my feet for hours every day here at Perry’s.”
“I know that.”
Tossing the rag on the table, she lowered one hand to her hip. “You try working eight hours on your feet. Wiping up spit and snot, serving sometimes surly and rude customers, and then keeping a smile pasted on your face and calling out ‘Thank you for your patronage’ when someone walks out the door without leaving a tip.”
Sarah bit her lower lip. That last part was uncalled for since Sam had singlehandedly given her nearly a hundred dollars in extra tips in the last couple of weeks alone. Ridiculous amounts, really, but she’d given up trying to return any of it. She’d tried at first, but he’d adamantly refused. Before she burst out and said something they’d both regret—or weep in his presence—one of them needed to leave. Considering she was in her place of work, Sam had to go.
“You should leave.”
“I agree.” He pulled at his silly collar named after miniature orange slices in a can and stalked toward the door. Pausing, he spun around. “Look, I know you do a great job here at Perry’s, and I’m sorry if some of your customers don’t appreciate you. But you’re one of the most stubborn women I’ve ever known.”
Sarah swallowed the huge lump in her throat. “Have a wonderful evening.”
Sam tugged on the handle of the door, sending the bell jingling and making her want to yank off that bell. “Same to you.” He lifted his head to the ceiling and closed his eyes—sure looked like he was counting under his breath—before walking back over to her with his purposeful stride. “You could stop me with one little word, Sarah. One. Word.” Fire sparked in his blue eyes and the muscles in his jaws visibly tightened.
“I’ll give you five. Thank you for your patronage.” She didn’t flinch although his gaze bore straight into her soul. “I’ll see you at church tomorrow morning if you can manage to get all the buttons of your jacket undone by then.”
With a disgusted grunt, Sam jerked open the door, sending that bell jingling, and left without another word. She watched as he passed in front of the plate glass window, not looking back.
Sinking onto the red vinyl seat of the closest booth, Sarah rested her head on her arms, crossed on the tabletop. “What do I do now, Lord? Laugh or cry?”
You pray, Sarah.
Chapter 19
♥
“Hey, Sarah. Want a ride home?”
Sarah recognized the voice as Merle’s. She gave him a grateful smile. Pausing
on the sidewalk, she debated her options while he pulled his car to the curb. He waited, the car idling. After working a double shift, she was exhausted and the offer was too tempting to resist. Besides, it was only a few blocks.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” Opening the passenger car door, she climbed inside.
“Been working longer hours today at the diner?” he said as she slid onto the front seat and closed the passenger door.
“Yes. One of Patti’s kids is sick, so I covered her shift tonight. The diner was a mess, so I stayed late to help clean up.” She covered her yawn with one hand.
Merle nodded and pulled back onto the street. Within a block, Sarah recognized the signs that he’d been drinking.
Don’t panic. It’s only three more blocks. It’ll be fine.
“You know what? I need to do some reading tonight. The fresh air will be invigorating and help revive me. Why don’t you pull over? I’ll just hop out and walk the rest of the way.”
“Ah, Sa-Sarah.” Merle darted a glance her way and chuckled. “You’re n-not afraid of me, are you?”
“Of course not, Merle. I’ve known you my entire life. But I think you’ve—” She bit her lower lip, unsure of what to say. Knowing if she mentioned her suspicion that he’d been drinking, it’d probably prompt a negative reaction.
Without a word, Merle gunned the accelerator and the old Chevy jerked forward at an alarming rate of speed. Leaving Sarah’s sense of security in the middle of the street a block behind them.
“Please slow down, Merle. There’s no hurry.”
Loud honking behind them prompted Sarah to look over her shoulder. She breathed a sigh of relief when she spied Sam’s dad’s truck.