by JoAnn Durgin
“Fletch has a prosthetic leg now.” Sarah handed him the order.
Jimmy raised a brow but didn’t stop his work as he dropped two large beef patties on the grill. “Even better.” The burgers sizzled and Jimmy turned his attention to the chicken and burgers in various stages of readiness.
“You see so much even though you rarely venture out of this kitchen, my friend. How do you manage that?”
Jimmy’s kind smile crinkled his eyes. How she loved this man’s smile. “Sometimes you don’t need eyes to see, Jelly Bean.”
She laughed. “I’m convinced you’ve also been blessed with supersonic hearing.”
“For one thing,” he said, not missing a beat as he flipped burgers and reached for the hamburger buns, “I can pretty much guarantee Captain Lewis is sitting out there wondering how he can stop you from going to Austin.”
Her smile faded, and Sarah’s pulse picked up speed. “What?”
“As sure as you’re staring at me right now, your eyes bugging out of that pretty face of yours, that boy’s fallen hard. Yep”—sliding the spatula beneath a hamburger patty, Jimmy transferred it to a bun—“he’s in love with my Jelly Bean.” Jimmy shot her a quick glance. “I’d bet my life on it.”
“Well, don’t do that. You’re too important to me, and I don’t want to lose you.” She moved one hand down to her hip, determined not to ask him the next logical question. Shaking her head to clear her mind, Sarah pushed through the door and entered the dining area again to get the drinks for Sam and Fletch.
Sure enough, Sam’s gaze met hers. What she saw in the depths of those blue eyes thrilled her. Scared her. Intrigued her. As usual, her favorite burger flipper might be right. He usually was.
Oh, Lord. What do I do now?
♥
That Evening
The water was warm but still cool enough to be invigorating. After swimming across the width of the creek several times, Sarah finally stopped. Panting, she stood in the shallow water and smoothed back her wet hair. In years past, whenever something weighed on her mind—good or bad—she’d slam softballs and run around a field. Now, the physical release to be found in swimming was the best way to stay focused on something other than her personal life.
Is that what Sam was, an issue? A problem of some kind?
Raising her face to the early evening sun, drinking in the rays filtering between the overhanging branches of the trees, Sarah released a deep sigh. She plopped back in the water, making a small splash, and then she floated on her back.
“Come here often?”
She screamed and jumped upright in the water. “You scared the living daylights out of me, you bad, bad man!” Seeing the amusement on Sam’s face, she began her attack, splashing him as hard and fast as she could. She laughed the entire time, felt his smile everywhere. While she wished Jimmy hadn’t planted the idea in her mind that Sam might be falling in love with her, she was secretly thrilled.
I’m wearing my swimsuit. Oh, no. This could not be good. Ducking beneath the water line, Sarah glanced longingly at her towel on the creek bank. How could she distract Sam long enough to swim back, grab the towel and then wrap herself like a mummy?
Surprisingly, Sam didn’t splash her back. In times past, he’d always retaliated. This time, he stood, arms crossed over his chest—that broad, muscular chest—and smiled, which only made the situation worse. And wonderful, all at the same time.
“You believe in making a big entrance, don’t you? Show off!” Not knowing what to do, she splashed him again. “Shouldn’t you be courting Sylvie tonight? Sipping iced tea with lemon on her front porch?”
Sam smirked. “I’d much rather be here with you, thanks. How often have you been out to Fletcher’s house?”
Her eyes widened. “I have no idea. A few times. I don’t keep count.” When he cocked his head and raised a brow, she shrugged. “I go out there about once a week on average, sometimes more. I didn’t want him become a hermit. Seems you had the same idea. He’s a great guy, but he lost a lot of confidence along with. . .” She took in a quick breath. “Along with his leg.” She tilted her head as understanding dawned. “That’s what you were trying to tell me, wasn’t it?”
“Now you’ve lost me.” Sam dropped down into the water, mirroring her, so that only his head and shoulders were visible above the water line.
“When you were telling me about Ménière’s Disease.”
“I’m impressed you remember the name. I can barely remember it myself.”
They faced one another, both lightly treading water. “I looked it up in a medical dictionary at the library.”
“Even more impressive. Learn anything interesting?”
“A few things, yes,” she said. “Whether it’s the loss of a limb or one of your senses, it’s still a part of you. In your case, in terms of flying jets, I can better understand how the temporary—and potential long-term loss—has affected you.”
Sam studied her for a long moment. When he waded closer, her pulse pounded into overdrive. “You read up on it, you say?”
Sarah nodded slowly. “Yes. I wanted to understand it a bit more.” She dropped her gaze from the intensity of his gorgeous eyes. “I wanted to be able to help you, if I could.”
He surprised her when he chuckled. “That explains some things.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Sarah Jordan, have you—or have you not—purposely removed the salt shaker from my table at Perry’s?”
Sarah stared past Sam’s shoulder, not daring to meet his eyes. She’d been found out.
“And that awful coffee you’ve been giving me isn’t really coffee, is it?”
She grinned. “It’s Sanka, actually. Decaffeinated coffee.”
Laughing, he gave a thumbs-down gesture. “Surely there’s a better way. I think I’ll abstain.” He waded even closer. “Want to know what I find really heartwarming?”
His nearness was making her dizzy. After dipping her hands in the water, she smoothed her palms over her wet hair. “What’s that?”
“You cared enough about me to look it up.”
Sarah held his gaze. “That’s what friends do. Tell me something.”
“Sure, but let’s float for a bit. What do you say, friend?” Sam dove backward, splashing her, and then floated on his back a few feet away. “What’s your question?”
“Have you been up in your vintage plane since you’ve returned home?” She paddled a bit so that she was abreast of him.
He didn’t answer right away. “No, as a matter of fact.”
“Why not?”
Pulling ahead of her, he still floated on his back. “You ask the tough questions, you know that?” When she smirked, also flat on her back beside him, Sam laughed. “Don’t tell me. That’s also what friends do for one another. Right?”
“You’ve got it,” she said. “And it’s a friend’s inherent responsibility to answer the question.”
“What happened to my prerogative? That’s not exclusively reserved for women, is it?”
“No, but you’re treading some very chauvinistic waters with that statement. Really, Sam.” Sarah rose up in the water, not caring anymore that he saw her in her swimsuit. They were friends, and for better or worse, this was the way she looked. Might as well get it over now since the opportunity had presented itself. She was well aware he glanced at her before turning his gaze to the opposite side of the creek. Hopefully, Sam wasn’t in some way embarrassed, or heaven forbid—repulsed—by seeing her figure. She felt her cheeks flood with warmth.
“If you’d ever like to take your plane up in the air again, and wouldn’t mind a passenger, I’d love to go.” When her voice wavered, Sarah despised how her nerves betrayed her. “I’ve never been in an airplane, you know.”
“That surprises me, especially with your interest in NASA.” Sam returned his gaze to her, prompting her to dip back beneath the creek’s water line.
“Think about it,” she said. “I’ve been working
every shift I can at Perry’s in order to save enough money to go to nursing school. It’s not like I’ve had the money to fly anywhere. Besides, where would I go?” She frowned. “Sometimes I really hate money.”
“I know people who have a lot of it, and they aren’t so fond of it either. It can be a double-edged sword.”
Sarah nodded. “I wouldn’t mind trying it from their perspective for a couple of days, but I’m sure being wealthy has its own unique set of problems. Not to sound ungrateful. I realize how blessed I am.” Working with financial matters was this man’s livelihood and ambition, but she couldn’t imagine wanting to be around money as a full-time career. Not that it wasn’t an important position, and she respected Sam’s strong work ethic.
“You haven’t been far outside of Rockbridge, and it’s understandable you’d feel that way. Take a look at this beautiful creek, for instance.” Turning in a slow circle, Sam waved his hand at their surroundings. “The trees, the fish, the rocks, the mossy bank. God’s richest blessings are right here. In Rockbridge, Texas. This town is nothing more than a tiny speck on the map of the world. But whether in Rockbridge, Houston, New York, Rome or anywhere else, God’s people are the same. They’re precious to Him.”
Sarah considered his words. “Yes,” she said. “Even with all our many frailties.”
“That’s one of the greatest things about God, I think. He accepts and loves us, especially when others don’t. No matter what color we are, or how good or bad we are, if we trust Him with our lives, He won’t let us go. Ever.” Sam’s smile seared through her. “I guess my point is that He knows your heart, Sarah. The Lord will honor your desires, and at this point, only He knows where you’ll go, what you’ll do, who you’ll meet. But He’s got it all under His control. I hope you take comfort in that knowledge.”
“I do.” She gave him a bright smile. How Sarah loved their talks here—beside the creek, in the creek, walking home from the creek. As much as anything else, this man opened up to her like no one else. And she did the same for him.
His eyes fixed on her. “When I’m flying, it makes me realize all over again how small I am in the universe. Like your poem said, and that’s another reason it impacted me so much. Flying humbles me, but it also makes me feel free. And very thankful.”
“Thankful for the knowledge and ability to fly a plane, you mean?”
When he rose out of the water, she did the same, and they faced one another. Sarah held his gaze. What she saw in this man’s eyes gave her confidence, empowered her like never before.
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “I’m also thankful for the liberties I have as a citizen of a free nation. Thankful for being able to honor my family and my country in order to maintain those liberties. Most importantly, I’m thankful to be called a child of the one true King.”
“I understand that, but it still doesn’t explain why you haven’t been up in your plane since you’ve been home.” Something urged her on although she should probably let the matter drop. “Are you afraid for some reason, Sam? Do you feel the plane isn’t air-worthy, or are you concerned you might get dizzy while you’re up in the air? If you are, it’s okay. I want to help you—”
“I’m not afraid, Sarah.” He gazed into the distance, but his jaw visibly tightened. “I’m just not ready yet. That’s all.”
“I didn’t mean to pry or push you, Sam.”
“I know. Thank you for caring.”
She nodded. “Always. Well, I’d better be going home. Walk with me?”
Sam angled his head to the creek bank. “You go on ahead. I think I’ll swim a little. Holler when you’re ready, and then we’ll walk back together.”
Sarah watched as he dove into the water and began swimming with long, sure strokes. The fact that he’d admitted he wasn’t ready to fly again was admirable in its own way, and she needed to respect his feelings.
As she dried off and pulled her T-Shirt and shorts over her swimsuit, she watched Sam still swimming farther down the creek. Although she couldn’t be sure, she felt reasonably certain he was swimming not so much for the benefit of exercise as to spare her feelings and awkwardness. And maybe, just maybe, to work through the questions she’d posed to him.
He’s such a good man, Lord. Help him to fly again. In your time.
Chapter 23
~~♥~~
Tuesday Morning—June 5, 1962
A knock sounded on the bedroom door as Sarah prepared for work.
“Come on in!” Tucking a long strand of hair into her loose bun, Sarah anchored it with a bobby pin. The door opened and her mother stood in the doorway. “Hi, Mom.”
“Honey, I started out for the market a few minutes ago and found this envelope tucked halfway beneath the front door. Someone must have hand delivered it, and it has your name on it.”
“Really?” Turning, Sarah took it from her. Her name was typed in all capital letters on the outside of a business-size white envelope. No return address. Nothing else. “Wonder what this could be?” She slipped her finger beneath the sealed flap and carefully slid it across the envelope. Nadine watched as she pulled out a cashier’s check from Rockbridge Savings & Loan. Noting the large amount of the check, Sarah covered her mouth with one hand to stifle her cry.
Her Mom leaned over her shoulder. “Sarah Jane, do my eyes deceive me or are there five figures in that amount?”
Speechless, Sarah could only nod. She handed the green paper check to her mother. Moving one hand over her heart, she deep breathed a few times. “I can’t believe this. Who signed the check?”
“Joseph Lewis as the bank president. Countersigned by Sam.”
Taking the check from her mother again, she stared at it. Her hands shook to the point where the check almost fell from her hands and onto the carpeted floor. “So, there’s no way of knowing who funded the check? The only notation in the memo line is some kind of account number.” Crossing the room, Sarah sat down on her bed. “Do you think I should pay Sam a visit and ask him? Not that he’d tell me anything, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“I would. If nothing else, see if he can give you any information.” Nadine’s gaze met hers. “My guess is that this is a gift to pay for nursing school. I should think the amount is certainly more than enough.” She frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. “Someone is being extremely generous, but your father might not like this. You know how men can be if their pride is offended.” Her mother sat down beside her on the bed. “You don’t know how he’s hated that we couldn’t pay your way to college.”
“I don’t want anyone to feel guilty.” Sarah blew out a sigh, “I’m not sure I can accept it. The donor—is that the right word?—obviously wants to remain anonymous. If I can’t find out anything from Sam or his dad, there’s not much else I can do. I mean, it’s a legitimate check made payable to me. If I want the money, I’ll need to cash it, right? Or, I can return it to the bank. That’s another option. It is a very large sum of money.” She shook her head. “Who in Rockbridge could even afford to give me this much money, Mom? I guess the more important question is: why would they do this for me?”
Her mother squeezed her shoulder and gave her a gentle smile. “Someone who loves you would be my guess. Someone who wants to see you fulfill your dream of becoming a nurse.” She rose to her feet and headed for the door, pausing in the doorway. “Go see your friend Sam and see what you can find out. That’s the first step, and then you can better determine what to do next.”
♥
Walking into the bank a short time later, Sarah headed toward Gina Armstrong seated behind the reception desk in the middle of Rockbridge Savings & Loan.
“Hi, Sarah. Don’t you look like a vision today?” Gina gave her a bright smile. “Do you need some help?”
“I need to speak with Sam if he’s available. Privately.”
“Of course. Let me check.” Gina picked up her telephone receiver and pushed the intercom button. She drummed her fingernails on the top of her desk whil
e she waited. “Mr. Lewis? Sarah Jordan is here to see you if you have a moment. Of course. Thank you.”
Replacing the receiver, Gina angled her head toward Sam’s office. “He said he could see you now. Go on in.”
“Thanks, Gina. I appreciate it.” Smoothing one hand over the front of her uniform, Sarah swallowed her nerves and lifted her shoulders. Hopefully, Sam wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous she was. Since she’d applied fresh lipstick—something she rarely wore—she ran her tongue over her teeth. Nothing was worse than discovering she’d been carrying on a conversation, especially with a man, with lipstick on her teeth. That’s why she usually stayed far away from lipstick. What had she been thinking?
He’s Sam. Your friend. Talk with him the same as you always do.
She raised her hand to knock on the frosted glass door boasting Sam’s name and title, but the door opened from the inside. “Good morning, Sarah. Nice to see you, as always. Come on in.” Standing aside, Sam ushered her into the office.
“Hi, Sam. I have to start my shift at Perry’s soon, but I need to ask you about something.”
“If you can spare a few minutes, have a seat so we can talk about it.” Waving his hand at the chairs in front of his desk, Sam waited until she seated herself and then took the opposite chair. She noted he left the office door open. Ah, yes, this was Professional Sam. Banker Sam. Sarah drank in the sight of him. Finding it impossible to ignore how handsome he looked in his dark suit with the starched white shirt, she lowered her gaze. But not before noting his ridiculously wide, colorful tie. Although it was the popular style, she found it completely absurd. Was this another way Sam was trying to fit in with popular culture?
“Nice office,” she said, noting the framed diplomas, awards and certificates on the walls.
“My dad insisted I display them all, more for my Mom’s benefit than mine, I assure you.”
Sarah’s jaw gaped. “How could you possibly know what I’m thinking?”
He chuckled. “I don’t always. Tell me what’s on your mind.”