by JoAnn Durgin
Sam rose to his feet and picked up the plate. Pausing directly behind her, he whispered for her ears only, filling her senses with his wonderful cologne. “Guaranteed, Sylvie won’t be getting that recipe.” With a parting wink, Sam strode away from the table, empty pie plate in hand. She liked it when Sam winked. No, she didn’t. More like she shouldn’t. Oh, what a fine mess.
Donald Kindred cleared his throat as Sarah stood and gathered other empty dishes from the table. “Alice, would you care to update your remarks about Captain Lewis?”
Sarah ducked her head and fled to the kitchen. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be subjected to a barrage of questions about Sam. As it was, she found it difficult to sort out her feelings for the very handsome, incredibly addictive man.
She almost stopped in her tracks as she spied Sylvie walking out of the fellowship hall with Sam. At least she didn’t have her arm hooked with his. Sam paused at the door and glanced across the room. Their gazes locked, and he tipped his head. Was she supposed to be a mind reader and know what that meant? No matter what Sam said, Sam was leaving with Sylvie. Oh, bother.
If others weren’t present as she dried the communion cups, Sarah would have slapped her forehead. My stomach is calling, she chastised herself, silently mimicking what she’d said to Sam earlier. Girls weren’t supposed to talk about food, and they shouldn’t have such a healthy appetite. Sylvie was a stick, and yet her figure was cute with enough womanly curves to attract the attention of most men.
Why did she care? Sam knew she had a healthy appetite. That was no secret. You’re leaving Rockbridge. First and foremost, she’d forever be his Tomboy, the younger friend he teased. Who happened to be female. Like the little sister he’d had—and lost—in Rachel. That thought sobered her as Sarah stored some of the dried communion cups in the pantry. If she could fulfill that role for Sam, then so be it. She’d be thankful she could bring a smile to his face and he could tease her all he wanted.
Is that what you want to be to Sam? Or do you want something more? Why did the man have to flirt with her? Attract her? Spend so much time with her? Didn’t he know how difficult he was making her life? That nagging little voice inside her was growing more relentless. Retrieving the dishtowel, Sarah stuffed it inside another communion cup and swirled it vigorously. Was she so naïve she couldn’t tell the difference between flirting and teasing? Was he playing with her emotions or trying to turn her head with those eyes, that smile, that handsome face? No, Sam wouldn’t knowingly toy with her feelings. Would he? Could he not understand what havoc he was wreaking with her emotions?
You flirt with the man, you silly girl. You enjoy it, and you want to be with him.
“I think that glass is dry enough, Sarah.” With a knowing smile, her mother took the communion cup from her.
Chapter 25
~~♥~~
Sunday Afternoon
“Confession time.” Sam stretched out beside Sarah on the mossy bank of the creek.
“I’m listening although I’m surprised to see you here in the middle of your naptime.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said with a chuckle. “I tried, but it wasn’t happening. So”—he shot her a wide grin—“I figured I might as well come to Thornton’s Creek and bother my favorite nurse-to-be.”
He bothered her all right, but not in a way she’d ever admit out loud. “I must be fairly predictable if you knew I’d be out here on a Sunday afternoon. Predictable is one thing I never want to be.”
“If it makes you feel any better, Sarah, you’re the least predictable person I’ve ever known.”
She laughed. “One of my many charms, right?” Where did the fine line lie between friendly camaraderie with Sam and flirting? Far be it from her to know.
“Exactly.” He held her gaze for a long moment before nodding to her bare feet. “Those shoes you’ve been wearing in church are really nice. Quite. . .sexy.”
“Thanks for noticing. They belong to Tess, of course.” Her heart pounded. Did he really use the word sexy? Needing to avoid Sam’s scrutiny, Sarah doubled over and splashed water on her face. Immature or not, how was she supposed to handle a comment like that?
He leaned back on his hands. “I’ll have to thank Tess sometime for allowing you to borrow them. I have a question for you, and I’d like a straight answer.”
“Ask away.”
“Did you wear those shoes specifically to get back at me for what I said in the diner that night about your shoes? I didn’t mean any of it, you know.”
Sarah tossed a pebble into the water. “You already apologized, and you’re forgiven. And you definitely meant what you said. Look, I know my work shoes are ugly, but there’s no way I could wear the heels to work. I’d be in a podiatrist’s office in no time flat. Besides, when I’m a nurse, I’m going to wear ugly orthopedic shoes. I’ve accepted it as my fate in life, and you should, too.”
“Nonsense.” Sam’s gaze moved again to her feet, dangling over the edge of the creek bank. “You have very pretty feet.”
Her pulse raced at the compliment. “Thanks, but you don’t have to go that far.” She could kiss Tess for painting her toenails a few nights ago, this time a soft, pale pink for the summer.
“Please accept the compliment graciously. I like the nail polish, too. It’s nice. Here.” Sitting up, he patted his left thigh. “Give me one.”
“What? One of my feet?” She eyed him askance. “Why would I do such a silly thing? I’m not that ticklish if that’s what you’re thinking. You can give up that idea now.”
“Humor me.” He tapped his thigh again and tilted his head with an irresistible grin.
Wondering if it was a dumb idea, Sarah turned toward him. Scooting back a bit, she lifted her right foot. Taking her leg, Sam positioned her foot over his lap. Then he began to massage her foot, kneading it with his fingers. On the top, on the bottom. Everywhere. Oh, my, that feels good. She leaned back on her hands as Sam had done. “Tell me the truth, Sam. You don’t have some kind of strange foot fetish, do you?”
“No.” He chuckled and continued his efforts without stopping. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Which question was that? I’m not sure this is appropriate,” she murmured, gesturing to where he was massaging her foot. “Whether it’s something a good Christian boy and girl should do.”
“Ah, but I’m no longer a boy, and you’re—”
“You know what?” she said. “At the moment, I don’t really care whether it’s appropriate or not.”
His lips curled. “Oh, I think that you do, and that’s a big part of your problem. Back to my question. Did you wear those shoes to prove a point? Because if you did, it worked.”
She closed her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them. “I don’t know that I like you calling it my problem.” She grinned. “Okay, maybe I did wear them to make a point. I didn’t really think about it. But, no, if you want to get technical about it, I did not wear them with the specific intent to ‘get back’ at you, as you put it. Please don’t flatter yourself, but I’m glad you appreciate them. I’ll have you know that I always kick those babies off the first chance I get once I get home again. There’s only so much a girl can take.”
Sam chuckled in the way she loved—deep and low. “I kick my shoes off first thing, too,” he said. “For now, please sit back, relax and enjoy. If you fall asleep, I’ll wake you up.”
“Gladly, after you tell me where you learned this absolutely fabulous massage technique.”
“Overseas.” When Sarah stared at him, silently questioning him, he gave a small shake of his head. “Don’t jump to wrong conclusions. I didn’t visit any Suzie Wongs while I was there.”
“What does that mean? If I really shouldn’t hear the answer, I respect your right to remain silent and forever hold your peace.”
“Comes from The World of Suzie Wong. It was a book and a movie a couple of years ago with William Holden. Suzie Wong is military slang for an Asian prostitute.”
> Her parents never would have allowed her to see such a movie even if she’d wanted. Jerking her foot away from his reach, Sarah sat up and crossed her legs. “I’m aware. And you felt the need to tell me this. . .why?”
“Relax and give me your foot again. Please. As you might recall, we’ve discussed this before.”
“What, the fact that you’re not that kind of man? You don’t know how happy that makes me. For the record, I’m not that kind of girl, either.”
“I know. That was never in question.”
“How could you possibly know such a thing? I mean, it’s not something that’s branded across my forehead.” She hesitated. “Is it?” What she couldn’t believe was that they were discussing such a thing in the first place.
Sam’s eyes softened as his gaze rested on her. “I see it every time I look in your beautiful brown eyes, Sarah. There’s purity there, a sweet innocence that reflects your heart, the clarity of your soul.”
“As flattered as I am, is innocence something you can actually see? How is that even possible?”
He flashed a grin. “You ask a lot of questions. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’ll try. You don’t use innuendo, dress provocatively, or flirt with guys to get their attention. Plus, I love how strong you are in your faith. You live it. More than any other woman I’ve ever met.”
Sarah lowered back onto the ground again, propped on her elbows, but she couldn’t stop her pulse from racing out of control. “Those are some of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me, Captain. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I meant every word.”
“I know,” she murmured. “That’s why they meant so much.”
Without speaking, Sam lifted her foot again and continued his massage using exquisite care, focusing on the bottom of her foot. She watched, fascinated, as he rhythmically moved his hands and fingers, massaging and rubbing every part of her foot, making sure to hit every pulse point. Unable to hold it in any longer, a long, slow moan escaped. Slapping her hand over her mouth, Sarah sensed the quick rise of warmth in her cheeks. Falling onto her back in a pitiful effort to hide her flaming cheeks from view, she tugged down on the hem of her T-shirt. All the while praying Tess wouldn’t interrupt them. What Sam was doing, and what she was allowing him to do, would require a mighty careful explanation if they were discovered. In spite of it all, she smiled.
“What did you say? I didn’t hear you,” Sam teased, continuing his ministrations.
“I, um, said maybe you and Tess should open a shop. You can do this”—she waved her hand at him—“and she can do the pedicures and manicures.”
When Sam chuckled once more, it reached a place hidden deep inside her. Talk about sexy.
“Of course, I completely agree with you about waiting until marriage,” she said after a full minute passed without either one of them speaking. A comfortable silence that wasn’t awkward in the least. “After all, it is God’s plan. Secondly, my parents would kill me.”
Sam paused. “I think there’s a third reason coming. Statements like that usually come in threes.”
She giggled and avoided looking at him but figured he could see her smile, anyway. “Not really. I know I definitely need a man who can give really great foot massages.”
He stopped massaging her foot. “Is that a proposal of marriage?”
“Perhaps, but it certainly wouldn’t be proper for the woman to do the asking, would it?”
He shook his head. “You constantly amaze me. Not to change this fascinating subject, but what is TeamWork?” He motioned to her green and white T-shirt. “I’ve never heard of it. I can’t see the slogan without looking like a pervert. What does it say?”
She lifted her upper body, propping herself on her elbows again. “TeamWork’s a Christian missions organization.” She glanced down at the shirt. “The slogan says, Rebuilding lives worldwide and binding souls for Christ.”
“A very worthwhile goal. Tell me more,” he said, resuming his fabulous massage.
“TeamWork’s a worldwide organization. They send relief workers wherever there’s a natural disaster. They also have a lot of local groups that dedicate themselves to helping families in crisis, feeding the homeless, working with inner-city children, counseling women, and they have all kinds of outreach ministries. From what I know, they meet people where their needs are, and they do their best to fulfill those needs. I’m not sure where their head office is, but the main TeamWork office here in Texas is in downtown Houston. They also have a branch office in Austin, and I’ve been in contact with them. I’d like to get involved.”
“Because they gave you a T-shirt?” Sam laughed when she rolled her eyes.
She told him about some of the inner-city projects she’d read about in the literature sent to her by the TeamWork director. “I’m thinking I could volunteer for some local projects in Austin while I’m in nursing school. Probably not until my second semester when I’ve settled in more. I’d like to do some kind of outreach project, and I might be able to earn school credit at the same time. I’d really like to donate my time and efforts to the free medical clinics they offer on the weekends. Sounds like a great ministry, don’t you think?”
Sam nodded, but he didn’t smile. “Sure sounds like it.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful.
“Then, after I graduate, I might travel overseas with TeamWork. It’d be a great way to see the world and put my medical training to good use at the same time. Suits both my goals, so the way I see it, it’s a win-win situation.”
He stopped massaging her foot. “You don’t plan on staying in Texas long term?” He’d turned serious and avoided looking at her.
“Well, not at first,” she said. “Texas is my home, so I might eventually come back.” She shrugged. “Only God knows at this point. Maybe I’ll meet someone in my travels and settle in some exotic country. I could live in India with my missionary husband and gift him with one of those Nehru jackets for his birthday.”
Sam turned his head away from her. Why wasn’t he saying anything? She’d expected him to laugh, especially at her last comment. When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “Not to sound greedy, but can you massage my foot a little more? Unless you’re too tired.” He appeared dazed for some odd reason. She waved her hand. “Anyone home?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” He gently lowered her foot to the ground and motioned to the other.
Sarah plopped back down to the ground when he positioned her left foot across his thigh. “If Tess decides to show up while you’re doing this, I think I’ll have to kill her.”
“I’ll take the chance.” He started massaging her foot.
“Thanks.” She settled on the hard ground, but it was worth it for the privilege of being so pampered. She should probably protest, but never in her life had anyone done anything like this for her, much less a man.
Not that you’d allow just any man to do such a thing, Sarah. Her cheeks warmed again, and she was immensely thankful she was flat on her back.
Sam worked in silence for a couple more minutes before speaking. “I didn’t realize you were thinking of doing something like that. Not staying in Texas, although the opportunities sound terrific for you.”
“I thought you, of all people, would be thrilled.”
“Why me, of all people?” Now he sounded defensive. She’d never understand men.
“Well, because it’s a Christian missions organization, first and foremost. You’re like the strongest Christian guy I’ve ever known, Sam. Matter of fact, you put most of the men in this town to shame in that regard. Although”—she gave him a wry grin—“I’m not sure the elders, my dad included, would approve of your massaging a woman’s foot.”
Sam shook his head and concentrated on what he was doing, rendering her almost unable to speak. This special treatment could definitely get addictive.
“You make it sound like it’s some kind of competition. The part about being a strong Christian. I’m only living my life the best way I
can, with God’s help.” He stopped the massage but left his hands on her foot. For a long moment, Sarah couldn’t move, so relaxed she was sure she could easily fall asleep.
He resumed the massage, but after a few more minutes, he offered his hand and pulled her to a sitting position.
“That was a very special, relaxing and unexpected treat. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I needed to make up for my boneheaded comments.”
“Don’t worry another minute about it, but I appreciate your sensitivity.” Sarah quickly removed a stray leaf that had blown on her T-shirt. “I’m sorry I made it sound like a competition. I was only making an observation of the truth as I see it.”
His smile was slow and easy, a relief to see. “My turn. May I make an observation?”
She nodded, casting a wary glance his way. “Sure. Lay it on me.”
“I can’t understand why one of the guys in this town hasn’t married you yet.”
Her heart thudded so hard in her chest Sarah thought surely he must hear it. With that statement, the comfortable camaraderie she shared with Sam disappeared. “Well, I hope you know if I was married, I sure wouldn’t allow you to. . .do what you just did.”
“I know that, Sarah. I wouldn’t be doing it if you were married. But I’m glad you’re not.”
“Please don’t say something like that.” Plucking a few stray blades of grass from the ground, she tossed them at him.
“Why not?” The underlying challenge in his question was unmistakable. “I thought you might like it.”
“Because. . .” She faltered.
Again, Sam waited.
“It’s not like I haven’t had opportunities. I’ve been asked out plenty of times.”
“I’m aware of that.”
She snapped her gaze to his. “You seem to be aware of a lot of things.”
“Come on. I know girls talk about guys. It’d be naïve of you to think guys don’t do the same thing.”
Sarah frowned. “I can acknowledge I’m naïve as to the ways of the world, but yes, I know guys talk, especially about the Suzie Wong aspects of the world and such. As far as that goes, I’d rather not know, thank you very much.” She squirmed a bit under his intense scrutiny. “I’m not sure I like knowing you’ve discussed…me…with anyone else.”