by JoAnn Durgin
When Debbie Harrison came into the bank late in the afternoon, Sam spied her from his office. Tired of poring over charts and reports, he tossed down his pencil and rose to his feet. Strolling into the bank lobby, he walked over to the teller windows with the pretense of making sure they were preparing to close their stations and completing the necessary daily reports.
“Hi, Sam.”
He turned, pleased that Debbie called to him first. “Debbie. How are you?” As he walked across the lobby toward her, he schooled his features into a neutral expression. The light streaming through the windows highlighted the faint red highlights in her now natural hair color. He’s seen it all since his return to Rockbridge—deep blue streaks in her hair and that crazy red, shellacked hairdo she’d sported when he first moved back home. Arnie must be relieved. Ditto her normal looking eyebrows that had suddenly reappeared. He’d ignore the miniskirt she wore that could use a few more inches in length. He wouldn’t mind seeing Sarah in one of them, although she probably wouldn’t think of wearing one. Even if she did, her mother would bar the door and prevent her from leaving the house.
Focus, man.
“I’m just peachy,” Debbie said, recapturing his attention. “Did Sarah tell you my news?” She held out her left hand adorned with a fairly large diamond engagement ring, wiggling her fingers in front of his face. He had to love this girl’s enthusiasm.
“Yes, and I’m very happy for you both. Arnie’s a blessed man.” Genuinely pleased, Sam gave her a quick hug. “So, when’s the big day?” He knew better than to say anything about how long she’d waited for Arnie to pop the question. Neither would he let on that Sarah had already given him the basic details of the wedding. Never one to stand on ceremony, Debbie might have been the one to fall on her knees and do the proposing. Wouldn’t surprise him a bit.
“We’re not having a big wedding. Just a private ceremony at City Hall with the Justice of the Peace. Friday the 15th at three o’clock.” She shrugged. “We’re putting our money into a honeymoon trip to the Grand Canyon, and then we’ll have a reception here in town later on.”
“I see. If you need to open joint bank accounts, we’ll be glad to open those up for you.”
“Thanks. Arnie’s taking care of the financial stuff, so I’ll tell him. I only came to deposit my paycheck. Well, I guess I’ll see you later.” She turned to go.
“Debbie, have you seen Sarah today?” This girl was one of Sarah’s closest friends. If anyone knew what was wrong, Debbie should.
“Earlier when I stopped in at Perry’s for my break, like always.”
“Did she seem out of sorts to you?”
Debbie lowered her gaze. When she chewed on her lower lip, it was a dead giveaway.
“I care about her and want to help her, but she won’t tell me anything. She wasn’t herself when I went in for lunch.” Sam pinned her with what he hoped was his most earnest gaze.
Jerking her gaze away from his, Debbie glanced around the bank—everywhere but at him—before stepping closer. “Can we go somewhere private to talk?”
“Sure. Let’s go into my office.” He motioned for her to go first and then followed her inside.
She didn’t sit in the chair opposite his desk but fidgeted beside it, holding onto her handbag. “Sarah will kill me if she finds out I told you.”
“I’m not asking you to divulge any secrets. If it’s something you don’t think I should know, then you have every right not to tell me.”
Debbie gave him a small grin. “You’re so proper. Formal without being stuffy. You’re a lot like that Atticus Finch character in the book she likes so much.”
Pleased by that comment, Sam smiled and indicated the chair. “Please. Have a seat. For the record, I don’t close my office door when I have a woman of any age, married or not, in here with me.”
“As it should be, and that only reinforces my point. You’re a true gentleman, Sam. Don’t mind if I do.” Debbie dropped into the chair, settling the handbag on her lap. “First off, you should know that Randy Sweet is Arnie’s best man. I’ve asked Sarah to stand up with me, and Randy will be there for Arnie. They’ve been friends forever, since they were little boys.”
Sam nodded, wondering why Debbie felt the need to divulge this information. “I know Sarah and Randy are friends.” He took the chair across from her.
“I think Randy still believes something might happen with Sarah. He’s held out hope for her for years. Poor man can’t seem to get it through his thick skull that she’s not interested. Although. . .” Chewing on her lower lip again, Debbie dropped her gaze to her lap.
“Although?” he prompted.
“Things might be changing with Sarah. That’s why she’s upset. Not that it would change how she feels about Randy.”
Sam shifted in his chair, tempted to blurt out his question again. He liked straight talk, not skirting around the truth. Another reason he didn’t like Sarah’s “nothing” non-answer. Especially when that word came from a woman—in response to a man asking what was wrong—guaranteed, things were not okay.
Debbie’s shoulders lifted and then lowered as she drew in a deep breath. “Sarah was supposed to get scholarship money from the nursing school, but they’re going to withdraw the offer if she can’t enroll by the end of June. She got a letter. The school needs to award the money to other students if she’s not enrolled for the fall semester.”
Sam’s eyes widened. Sarah hadn’t told him about scholarship money, but that made perfect sense. “She can reapply again in the future, right?”
“As far as I know.”
Leaning forward, Sam rested his arms on his thighs. “Do you know the amount of the scholarship?”
“I’m not sure, but apparently enough to make her feel like she’ll never get to go. She was depending on that money.” Debbie’s hazel eyes met his. “You know Sarah. She’ll bounce back from this, but right now she believes she’ll be here in Rockbridge forever.”
Sam nodded. “I appreciate your confidence in telling me.”
Debbie rose from the chair. “Sam, if Sarah has to stay in Rockbridge, I don’t think it’s the death sentence she used to think it’d be. In the past few weeks—more specifically since the twenty-fourth of April, I’d say she’s pretty much had the time of her life.”
Seemed his mother wasn’t the only woman who’d perfected that knowing look. The same look Debbie gave him now. “So have I, Debbie.” He walked her to the door. “Thanks for being such a good friend to Sarah, and congratulations again on your upcoming marriage. Like I said, Arnie’s a blessed man.”
“Thank you.” Quickly lifting on her toes, Debbie planted a quick kiss on his cheek before patting his arm. “Now it’s your turn, Atticus. Time to put your brilliant defense into action.” She giggled. “You two are next, you know.”
Chuckling as she departed, Sam rubbed a hand over his chin. No wonder Sarah liked this woman so much.
Not two minutes later, he heard female voices engaged in a spirited debate. Sam walked to the door of his office and almost collided with Kathy Parker as she came around the corner. Oh joy. He had the feeling his day was about to go south fast. Dressed to kill, the girl must have bathed in enough perfume to suck the oxygen from, and asphyxiate, a person.
“Hello, Miss Parker. Do we have an appointment?”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “No, but I’d like a word with you, Captain Lewis.”
This woman suffered from a sense of inflated entitlement and always had. Perhaps he should tell her he had an appointment, but that wouldn’t be true. He might as well hear her out now. Hopefully, she’d have her say and that’d be the end of it.
“Of course. Come into my office.”
“Sam, why are you paying attention to that little waitress from Perry’s?”
He flinched since she’d raised her voice. Kathy had been the head cheerleader in high school and, as such, had learned how to project her voice. She couldn’t wait until they went inside for some privacy?
“As I said, let’s come inside my office so we can discuss this without an audience.” Several bank customers eyed them and the tellers tried to appear busy, but they weren’t fooling him. Stepping aside, Sam motioned for her to go into the office.
“I’m coming, too.” Debbie gave him a conspiratorial wink as she marched behind Kathy. That might be a good thing. Debbie would be a good ally, if needed, to defend Sarah. What a strange thought, but when it came to Kathy, nothing was outside the realm of possibility.
“Care to sit down?”
“No, thank you,” Kathy said. “This won’t take long.” She patently ignored Debbie even though she was standing right beside him.
“First of all, her name is Sarah, and calling her names won’t help your cause.” Sam crossed his arms. “Whatever that cause happens to be.”
Kathy lifted her chin. “Congratulations. You’re the talk of the town with your shameless flirtations all over town with that Jordan girl, including in the church, of all places. I’d have thought you’d have more reverence for God’s holy place.”
“Thanks, and funny you should mention church since I haven’t seen you darken the doors since I’ve been back in Rockbridge.”
Debbie grunted and then coughed.
Tossing her long blonde hair behind one shoulder, Kathy gave him a smile no doubt intended to mollify him. With a come-hither look, she stepped closer and tugged on his silk tie. When she attempted to pull him closer—in essence, to reel him in—Sam stood his ground.
“Sam, you’re a handsome, accomplished military man with a bright future here at the bank. You’d make any woman a fine husband. Surely you’re aware that Sarah Jordan’s not planning on sticking around town. I don’t want you to get your heart broken when she leaves town.”
Sam smoothed his hand down the length of his tie, dislodging Kathy’s grasp in a not-so-gentle way. “Thanks for your concern, but my heart will be just fine.” He moved toward the door, hoping she’d take the hint. Kathy didn’t budge but neither did Debbie. Of all things, he couldn’t have a showdown between two sometimes hot-headed, stubborn women in the middle of his office. He willed his dad to walk in right about now.
“Kathy, answer a question for me.” Debbie’s voice was low and controlled.
Kathy glanced at Debbie as if seeing her for the first time. “Why is this any of your concern? Don’t you need to be off somewhere planning your wedding?”
“I’d like to know why you’re treating Sarah like she’s the dirt beneath your feet,” Debbie said. “You’ve been vindictive and nasty to her since eighth grade. Tell me what Sarah’s ever done to you other than treat you with kindness?”
Kathy moved both hands to her hips, settling them there, her handbag dangling from one arm. “How can you even ask me that? Did you hear what that little twit said to me in the diner the day of Sam’s homecoming? She was positively rude and insulting. The only reason I didn’t insist that Myrna fire her on the spot was because I didn’t want to cause a scene on such a happy occasion.”
Debbie snorted. “What a crock! Who died and made you queen of Rockbridge? Sarah Jordan’s got more class in her little finger than you’ll have in a lifetime—”
“Why, you impertinent little snit!” Both women faced off and glared at one another.
Oh, Lord, this can’t be good. Sam considered pushing the panic button beneath his desk to summon the security officer, but doing so would only make him a laughingstock.
“Kathy.” He used his commanding officer tone. “It’s best if you leave now.”
“I know what it is!” Debbie snapped her fingers and stared at Kathy.
“What what is?” Kathy’s frown deepened.
“Sarah beat you out for the biggest award in school at the end of eighth grade. She got a write-up in the newspaper and they honored her at an assembly in front of the entire student body.” Debbie’s eyes widened. “Then somebody started that nasty rumor about how Sarah cheated on an English test and didn’t deserve the award.” She advanced toward Kathy, one slow step at a time. “Something tells me you were directly involved.”
Sam figured he might as well pull up a chair and watch the unfolding drama. To his surprise, Kathy appeared to be backing down in the face of Debbie’s anger. He moved his gaze from one woman to the other.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kathy spouted.
“Oh, yes I do. Know what gave you away, Miss Parker?”
“Like I said, you don’t know what—”
“Travel back with me a few years,” Debbie said. “Let me paint you a little picture. Maybe it’ll jog your convenient memory loss.”
Sam raised a brow, curious as to where Debbie was leading with that statement. This whole scenario was starting to get a little fun in a weird way.
“I was in the ladies room right after that assembly honoring my friend. I was in a stall and overheard two girls talking.” Debbie shot him an apologetic glance. “Sorry Sam.”
He held up one hand. “Trust me, not a problem.”
“They were hatching a plan to smear Sarah’s reputation. One of those two girls said she’d get Sarah back for stealing her award. Then she called Sarah an impertinent little twit. Snit. Whatever.” Debbie took another step closer to Kathy, her sensible work shoes toe-to-toe with the other woman’s fancy high heels. “Now, you tell me, what kind of eighth grade girl uses words like that? No one else I knew, that’s for sure.”
In a huff, Kathy stomped out of his office without another word.
Debbie shrugged. “Now that I’ve called her bluff, hopefully she’ll leave our girl alone.”
Sam wrapped his arms around her in a quick hug. “Thanks, Deb. Who needs Atticus when I’ve got you? You’re my hero.”
Chapter 22
♥
Thursday Afternoon
Sarah glanced at the front door of Perry’s Diner as the bell sounded. “I don’t believe it. Fletcher Monroe.” With Sam beside him.
“No one’s seen him in a few weeks. He’s been holed up in that little house of his, playing the hermit.” Debbie took another drink of her chocolate shake. “What makes you think of him now?”
Sarah nodded to the front door. “Take a look.”
Twisting on the counter seat, Debbie spied the two men and then spun back around, her face beaming. “I should have known!” She slapped one hand on the counter. “Good for Fletch! Seeing how Sam’s with him, he must have made it his mission to get him into town again.”
Arnie chuckled. “Sweetums, I think Sarah’s talking about the fact that Fletch is walking on his own speed. Hallelujah to that!” He lifted his glass of soda in a salute.
Debbie swiveled around again. “Wow. You’re right,” she said a few seconds later, her eyes wide. “He’s got himself a prosthetic leg now. Half a leg. Whatever. Isn’t that something else?” She giggled. “Sally Barksdale around? She’ll want to see this.”
Sam caught her eye across the diner as he and Fletcher made their way to Sam’s table. Sarah’s heart swelled when she noted how Sam walked beside the other man. He wasn’t touching Fletcher, or supporting him in any way, other than with his presence. But if Fletch needed him, Sam would be there. Although his efforts were slow, Fletch was walking on his own speed.
First Merle in church, and now Fletch walking without crutches? Thank you, Jesus.
Arnie pushed his empty plate across the counter when Sarah asked if he was finished with his meal. “Tell Jimmy he outdid himself. Best burger yet. That barbecue sauce and onion ring on top made it extra special.”
“I’ll tell him. He’ll be glad to hear it.”
Approaching Sam and Fletcher a couple of minutes later, Sarah gave them both a bright smile. “Hi, Fletch. We’ve missed you around here. Good to see you. Would you like your usual?”
Fletcher gave her his lopsided smile and pushed a shock of hair away from his eyes. Although it was still long, he’d shaved his beard and appeared rested and more at peace with hi
mself than she’d seen him. “You remember my usual?”
“It’s been less than a year since you were here. Not a lifetime.”
Fletcher’s brown eyes clouded and he dipped his head.
Would she never learn? “I’m sorry.” Sarah glanced at Sam, silently imploring him to help.
“I think we need to mark this occasion with one of Jimmy’s specialty burgers.” Sam handed the other man a menu and opened his on the table. “What’s your pleasure?”
“Jimmy has a fabulous new dressing with bleu cheese crumbles in it,” Sarah said. “I remember how you like bleu cheese.” She found bleu cheese an acquired taste, albeit bitter, but she was grasping for whatever might work to make Fletcher more comfortable. “While you’re looking over the menu, I’ll bring you a root beer with a slice of lime.”
“Go ahead and bring me the bleu cheese burger. It sounds like a winner.” Fletcher’s smile encouraged her. “You’re a real good waitress, Sarah. You care about your customers. Like I told you last time you were out at the house, you’re gonna make a great nurse, too.”
Releasing the breath she’d been holding, Sarah’s apprehensions dissipated. She caught Sam’s expression of surprise but ignored it for the moment. “Thanks. As long as I think before I speak, I should be fine.”
“Same burger for me,” Sam said, returning their menus to the slotted rack on the table. “With iced tea. Thanks.”
“With lemon. You’ve got it.” After asking if they both wanted fries, Sarah jotted down their order. “Coming right up, guys.”
“So, Sam managed to drag Fletcher out of his cave,” Jimmy said as soon as the kitchen door closed behind her. “Good for him. I wondered what it would take to get that man out again.” Oblivious to their conversation, Myrna worked on putting together lunch platters at the large prep table in the middle of the kitchen.