by JoAnn Durgin
Fine. He wanted to stick to business. She could do that. No problem.
“Mom found an envelope containing a cashier’s check under our front door this morning. Drawn on funds from Rockbridge Savings & Loan, with my name as the payee, and for quite a large sum of money.”
One eyebrow rose. “Is that a problem?”
“No, not really. I mean, of course not. It’s a very generous gift, but I don’t know that I can accept it.”
A slight frown downturned his lips. “Not many people come into my office complaining they’ve received a check for too much money.”
“Neither do I know many people in Rockbridge who have that kind of money to throw around in the first place.” Inhaling a quick breath, Sarah willed her pulse to slow down. She didn’t want to come across as accusatory, but she was as confused as she’d ever been in her life. This whole situation made no sense. Sam had to know the identity of her benefactor since he’d signed the check. Or was it possible his dad took care of it and only asked him to countersign? Of course, he’d trust his dad, if that was the case, and he wouldn’t think twice about signing the check.
“Even if they did have the money,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “I can’t imagine anyone who’d anonymously gift me with such a large amount without expecting something in return.”
“You must have a low opinion of the townspeople in Rockbridge.”
“Of course, I don’t,” she snapped. “Please don’t put words in my mouth. I’m just being honest, between us. I could live in any other town in Texas, and I’d probably say the same thing. People are people, Sam. You and I both know—even in the church—members don’t usually donate a large sum of money without expecting their name on a pew or a stained glass window. Or printed in a hymnal. Something.” She stole a glance at him, irritated further by his look of amusement. “You know what I mean. It’s basic human nature. As a rule, people want to be recognized for their generosity, and a public acknowledgment of some form or another is. . .well, it’s more or less expected. No matter how much they might deny it.”
Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and regarded her with a look of compassion that went a long way toward softening her frustration. “I appreciate your honesty, as always, but the way I look at it, there are plenty of people in Rockbridge who give money for various causes without expecting anything in return. Take the donations for the Benson Fund, for instance. We’ve already gathered more than we need for Marty’s headstone. I seriously doubt any of the people who’ve donated money—including you, since I’ve seen the tip money you drop into the donation can at Perry’s—would expect to be publicly recognized for their generosity.”
Sarah frowned. “You can be insufferably honorable sometimes, Sam Lewis. I might as well go since you’re obviously not going to tell me anything.” Maybe she wasn’t playing fair, but the glimmer of amusement flickering in those blue eyes both infuriated her and attracted her.
“I can tell you plenty of things, but they’re not what I think you want to hear, Sarah. Thanks for the questionable compliment. Never been called insufferably honorable before. At least not to my face.”
“Stick around.” When she glimpsed the broadening grin on his face, she rose from her chair. Perhaps it’d been a mistake to come so soon after she’d received the cashier’s check. She should have reasoned through it some more.
“I plan on it.” Sam lifted out of his chair. “Let me give you another example. Suppose you donated the money for a stained glass window in the church. You can’t tell me you’d need a plaque emblazoned with your name, proclaiming to the world, ‘Sarah Jane Jordan donated the funds for this beautiful, expensive stained glass window’—”
“Do you have any idea how much those are? As much as I’d want to, I couldn’t afford to give that much. . .” She turned away from him. “I dare you to ask how I even know how much those windows cost.”
“I didn’t know you ever played softball near the church.”
She managed a small smile. Again, the man could read her so well. “I never did again, I’ll tell you that much.”
Lightly taking hold of her arms, Sam scanned her face with such affection that she felt lightheaded. “Sarah, baby, the evidence of your giving is everywhere in the church. It’s in the faces of the teenage girls you teach on Sunday mornings.”
“Once a month,” she said. “It’s a rotation.”
Sam raised her chin with a gentle touch of his hand. “Please try to calm down and listen for a minute, okay? My point is, the girls admire you and they look to you as a role model. Mrs. Eldercroft lights up like a light bulb whenever you enter the church. You’re so good with helping her distribute blankets to the residents of the nursing center over in Springhaven. Look, you have to know everyone in town—and probably some outside the town limits—is aware of your plans to attend nursing school.” Releasing her, he took in a deep breath and blew it out. “As much as we all hate it that you won’t be here with us every day, working at Perry’s and walking among us”—a look of sadness surfaced in his expression—“we all want you to fulfill your dream of becoming a nurse.”
“Thanks for making me sound like the dearly departed.”
He returned his gaze to hers. “Accept the gift, Sarah. Say thank you, deposit it, and use it to find your dreams. I assure you it was given with the purest of intentions with no expectations of anything in return other than your personal happiness.”
Sarah blinked hard and nodded. “Thank you, Sam. May I make a suggestion?”
“What’s that?”
“You might want to rethink that tie.”
Lifting his tie, Sam gave her a curious glance. “What’s wrong with my tie? It’s colorful and fun, and it livens up an otherwise boring suit.”
“Your suit’s not boring. It’s very. . .well-tailored. And the jacket doesn’t have a bunch of little annoying buttons.” Sam must not have learned the lesson that the man made the suit, not the other way around. Tess was right about one thing: men could be clueless, especially when it came to clothing. Still, had she actually said those words aloud? Based on the look of male satisfaction that crossed Sam’s face, she had.
“Thank you for noticing my attire.” His gaze settled on her lips. “Nice lipstick, by the way.”
What was it about this man that made her tongue-tied at times? “Thank you for your time. I can show myself out.” She needed to escape was more like it, and she headed for the door. From behind her, she could hear Sam mutter something under his breath a second before he touched her arm.
“You know I’d tell you if I could.”
She faced him again. “I know. You’re bound by professional ethics or whatever. I appreciate that. I really do. I certainly don’t want to cause you any trouble. I’d just like to thank the generous person who gave me this unexpected, lovely gift.” Maybe that statement would convince him. No sooner had the words come from her mouth than she glimpsed the determination in the firm set of Sam’s jaw.
“I can thank them for you, although again, it’s not necessary.”
She lifted her chin. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“I don’t plan on it, no.” Another grin teased the corners of his mouth. Sarah stood her ground and then startled, realizing she was staring at the man’s lips, wondering what it would be like to feel them on hers.
What am I thinking?
“Like I said. Insufferably honorable,” she mumbled under her breath as she exited his office.
Chapter 24
~~♥~~
Sunday June 10, 1962
“Good morning, Miss Jordan.”
Sarah’s pulse skipped a few beats, a familiar scenario whenever Sam was around. “Mr. Lewis.”
“Fancy meeting you here. Come here often?”
“You need some new lines, old man, but you have a nice singing voice, and you are a fervent prayer warrior if ever I’ve heard one, so I’ll forgive you for stale pick-up lines.”
/> “That was one of the longest sentences I’ve ever heard you say. Complimentary and insulting all at the same time. Fascinating.” Sam stepped aside to allow Sarah to exit the pew ahead of him. “Even so, we’re in the house of the Lord now. Watch yourself.”
“Not to be flippant, but the good Lord and I are on good terms. We have an understanding.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder as she passed by him. Goodness, that was a move she’d never made before, but she’d seen Tess and other girls do it when they were flirting.
“Is that right?” He crossed his arms. “Meaning He understands you can’t help yourself.”
“Yes,” Sarah said, moving to the center of the church. Dropping her purse on a pew, she began to move down the row, collecting empty communion cups. “I think I’m going to nickname you Hershey.”
“Because of my puppy dog eyes that melt you with one glance?”
She laughed and then slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. “I meant, are you going to follow me around like a puppy or will you help me?” She frowned after she picked up a cup smeared with bright red lipstick. “Okay, I deserved that,” she said, staring at her fingers. “No comments, please.” Pulling a tissue from her purse, she wiped the lipstick from her fingers.
“Wouldn’t think of it.” Sam moved to the row behind her and started collecting the cups. “Speaking of a puppy following you around, have you had any more puppies of either the human or canine variety tagging at your heels since I’ve been away?”
“Other than you? No.”
“You adopted Hershey right before my family moved to Rockbridge, right?” He’d apparently decided to ignore her insinuation.
Sarah snapped her gaze to Sam’s, surprised he’d remembered. “Yes. How. . .”
“I remember more than you might think, Sarah. Are you thinking of getting another dog?”
Shaking her head, she lowered her gaze. “No. My parents are planning to do some traveling, and Tess doesn’t have much of an interest in getting a pet. She never did. And”—she reached for Sam’s collection of cups—“with nursing school, I won’t be able to have a dog.” She stopped her work. “I seem to recall a teenager in town who adopted every stray dog and cat and made sure they had good homes. Whatever happened to that guy?”
Sam’s gaze zeroed in on her. “He grew up and realized he couldn’t save every unwanted pet in the world. Not that he won’t one day rediscover that passion, but he’s currently pursuing other interests.”
Okay, then. They worked in companionable silence before moving to another section together. Sarah greeted a few of the ladies and told them she’d take care of the remaining cups.
“I’m sorry for being so short with you in recent days,” she said finally. “You were only being my friend, and I haven’t been particularly nice.” She heaved a sigh. “You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my frustration.”
“I’m here, there—wherever—if you need me.”
She smiled. “I know. Thanks.” They worked again in silence for another minute. Maybe longer. Time could be a funny thing. “So, I take it you’re the talented artist who made the drawing?” she said when they were alone in the sanctuary. The aromas from the kitchen down the hall wafted to her, making Sarah ravenous. To think this wasn’t even the Father’s Day Luncheon—that event was next Sunday, and traditionally one of the biggest feasts of the year.
“Yes, I’ll take credit for the drawing.”
“It was exquisite. A gift. Thank you for that, too.” Sarah’s gaze locked with his, and she melted a bit more.
“I’m happy you like it.”
“I’ll treasure it. But I’m not putting it beneath my pillow. And now, my stomach is calling,” she said. “I smell Angela Farris’s sweet potato casserole. Let’s check the other pews and see if all the communion cups have already been collected, and then head over for lunch.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sam said. “Mom brought peach pie.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”
“The peach is the best fruit ever. Hands down. No debate.”
“Wouldn’t debate you on that one, even if I could.”
“Meaning you agree?”
Sarah laughed. “When it comes to peaches baked in one of your mother’s delicious pies, I do. You’d better get a slice before it’s all gone.”
“Trying to get rid of me, Sarah Jordan?”
“Never, Captain.”
A couple of minutes later, after checking the remaining pews, Sam gave her a charming, irresistible smile. Part of her wished she could see that smile and not melt while another, bigger part of her, could stare at this man all the livelong day. “Ready?”
“Yep. Looks like we got them all.” She handed the stack of communion cups to him and then grabbed her purse from the pew. “Let’s go eat.”
♥
Sarah stole glances at Sam throughout the meal in between small talk with the others seated at her table. Sylvie Foster made sure she occupied the chair next to Sam and his family across the room while Sarah sat with her mother and father. Tess was sitting elsewhere, laughing and chatting with a group of friends. She’d invited Sarah to join them, but she’d declined, preferring to sit and sulk.
“Looks like Captain Lewis found himself a girlfriend.” Alice Kindred’s remark prompted everyone at their table to stare across the room at Sam.
Sarah slowed her chewing. Cheeks burning, she refused to follow the crowd this time.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” Alice’s husband, Donald, said. “That boy’s playing the field. I’d do the same thing in his shoes.” Alice looked none too pleased at her husband’s remarks, and some of the other wives shot glances at their own husbands.
Wiping her mouth with her napkin, Sarah kept quiet with no intention of joining in their speculation. She attacked the sweet potato casserole with renewed interest, keeping her head down.
In the middle of their meal, everyone stopped talking. Twisting in her chair, Sarah almost collided with Sam as he took the vacant seat beside her. He set a plate with a generous slice of his mother’s pie in front of her.
“Aren’t you sweet.” She lowered her voice as the others resumed their conversations. “I thought I’d missed out.”
“You would have, but I had her save an extra slice special for you in the kitchen. I would have brought it over sooner, but—”
“You were otherwise occupied. I understand. This wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate your thinking of me.” She patted his hand. “Don’t let me keep you.”
Could I be any more of a snit?
Sam chuckled. “You’re not keeping me from anything.”
“I’m sure Sylvie would disagree.”
“Don’t presume anything, Miss Jordan.” Propping one elbow on the table, Sam leaned his head against his fist. No fair. The man was giving her his most irresistible smile. Was he purposely toying with her emotions?
This is so confusing, Lord.
Picking up her fork, Sarah poised it above the plate. “You came to see me eat the pie? In that case, pie is always better when shared, don’t you think? Thank you for not smothering it in vanilla ice cream. That would have been overkill.” Stabbing a warm peach slice in the pie, Sarah offered it to him.
“I know you prefer it non-à la mode,” Sam said. He remembered something like that? The man did seem to pay attention.
Accepting her challenge, Sam leaned close. She watched as he took the peach from the fork, his eyes never leaving hers. How could he make something as simple as eating a slice of pie an experience she’d never forget? My, oh my. A quick glance around the table confirmed the amusement of the others. Alice’s mouth positively gaped. Sarah avoided direct eye contact with her mother. She felt giddy and silly, and wished she could slip under the table.
Placing the fork on the side of her plate, she cleared her throat. “Well, now, that’s a surefire way to get the rumor mill circulating. You see me every day at the diner,” she said, keepi
ng her voice low. “I should think you’d be tired of me by now.”
“I’ll never be tired of you. Give me another bite, and let’s really get them going.” Sam graced her with another heart-melting smile.
“So not fair.” If Sarah knew what was in her best interest, she’d ignore that comment. What had gotten into the man? Without a doubt, he’d taken serious leave of his senses. “This pie is absolutely scrumptious. Your mother’s outdone herself this time,” she said around another mouthful. “How does she do it?” Maybe she should gobble down the pie like a pig and then he’d see how unladylike she was. That should do the trick and then he’d rightfully turn his attention elsewhere.
“You know,” Sam said, “Mom tells me she’ll only share her peach pie recipe with someone very special. It’s one of those old family secrets. Guarded like a precious, rare jewel. But she’ll only give it to the girl of my choosing. Once in a lifetime opportunity.”
Sarah swallowed another bite without tasting it before chasing it down with her pink lemonade. “Is that so?” She slicked her tongue over her teeth, and then wiped her mouth with her napkin. “That’s a mighty tall responsibility. And quite an honor. Sorry to say, you sound a little cocky about that fact, too.” Her heart pounding, she pushed the plate across the table to Sam. “Here, you finish it. It’s delicious but too much for me.”
“Aren’t you going to ask?” He polished off the pie and gave her a smile of satisfaction.
“I should think not.”
“Chicken?” When he borrowed her napkin to wipe his mouth, she pointed to the corner of his lips. With a wider grin, he wiped the napkin across his mouth. “Did I get it all?”
“Yes, but taunting isn’t becoming. Of course, I’m not chicken. You know me better than that. However,” she said with an exaggerated sigh, “you might as well tell me since you seem determined. That and embarrassing me with your shameless public flirting or whatever it is you’re doing. You really should be ashamed, Captain Lewis. You’re a respected military man and in the house of the Lord, need I remind you. Why the teenage boys look to you as their role model is beyond me.”