Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series

by JoAnn Durgin

  Turning to Sam, Sarah slid one hand down to her hip. “Congratulations. I’m happy for you. Tell me, Sam. Is there anything you don’t—or can’t—do?” The man wasn’t perfect, but he definitely wasn’t one to sit idle.

  He chuckled. “I hear you’re embarking on a home improvement project and thought I’d put in my bid. A kitchen can be tricky to navigate with those big appliances and outlets to work around.” His eyes sparkled as he took another bite of his burger.

  Tess must have already contacted Hartmann’s. “Word gets around quick. Let me guess. Charlie told you?” Sam nodded.

  “I’m happy Charlie can help us,” she said. “We’re going to try and recruit a few guys and girls from the singles group at church. I’ll be sure and mention your offer to the boss.”

  “Hey, my credentials stand on their own.” Sam finished his bite. “Do I really need to prove myself worthy to you?”

  Sarah cracked a smile. “I suppose we could take you on for the job. Your previous experience in home beautifying is a much better qualifier than an Air Force Academy education and time spent flying jets, after all.”

  He raised his hands. “I was going to say I’ll work cheap, but whatever works.”

  After first making sure Myrna wasn’t in close proximity, Sarah flicked her dishtowel on his arm. He’d removed his suit coat and draped it on the adjacent counter seat, the outline of his muscled arms visible under his dress shirt. His tan had deepened and offset his eyes and smile to great advantage. The soft-looking, silky dark curls hanging over his collar were a little unruly, tempting her to smooth them into place.

  Sam was distracting without even trying, but he seemed oblivious to his sex appeal. How could the man not notice all the women fawning over him wherever he went in town? If he did, he didn’t show it. His lack of arrogance made him all the more attractive.

  “So? Am I hired for the job?” Sam’s blue eyes surveyed her from above the rim from his glass.

  Sarah inhaled a quick breath. “I suppose I could hire you for a trial run. Provided your work is satisfactory to the boss, we’ll likely keep you on.”

  He lowered the glass to the counter. “Don’t tell me. Tess is the boss?”

  “Don’t tell her, but yes. She’s the one who came up with the brilliant idea. I’d better get back to work, but if you want to stop by tomorrow after work, we’re going to get started. Mom and Dad left early this afternoon and they’re coming back in a week.”

  When she moved down the counter to the cash register, he followed. Sarah rang the sale and rested her hand on the register drawer after he handed her a twenty dollar bill and told her he didn’t need change. “Sam, your meal cost less than five dollars.”

  “Plus tip. Inflation, you know. If it’s not against the rules, add it to your nursing school fund.”

  “It’s not against my rules.” Myrna moved behind Sarah and angled her head at the register. “Sarah, please close that drawer. But not before you take out the money for that exorbitant tip Daddy Warbucks here is giving you.” Giving Sam a wink, Myrna moved on down the counter.

  Sarah closed the register, dropped half of the amount into the Benson Fund can and then pocketed the other half. “Happy now?”

  Amusement glimmered in his mesmerizing eyes. “Yes. Quite.”

  “You know, there’s something I find fascinating.”

  “What’s that?” After returning his wallet to his back pocket, he crossed his arms on the counter and lowered his voice. “How you can’t stop staring at my lips and thinking how much you’d like another kiss?”

  “As much as I’d love that, I was reading about a SAM the other day. I had no idea there was such a thing, so imagine my surprise.”

  “As in surface-to-air missile? So, you’re saying my kisses are like a missile launch that disarm you and send your equilibrium fluctuating wildly?”

  “Something like that,” she said, laughing. Such a flirt. “Now, off with you before your ego inflates even more. I have other customers who need my attention.”

  “See you later.” Sam shrugged into his suit coat, a move which drew Sarah’s attention all over again to his broad shoulders. “Do you need me to recruit any more volunteers? It’s a proven theory that more hands make light work.”

  “I think we’re all set, thanks.”

  Stopping outside the big picture window, Sam raised his hand and Sarah returned his wave. She stood in the middle of the diner staring after him like a lovesick fool.

  “That man’s in love with you.” Sarah turned to Perry Sellers, sitting on his usual counter seat, and didn’t bother to mask her surprise. Perry rarely spoke, but when he did, it was heartfelt. He gave her a gap-toothed grin and raised his coffee cup in a toast.

  “Of course, he is. That man’s got excellent taste in women.” Jimmy passed by the counter on his way from the kitchen to serve his wife and one of their daughters seated at a window table.

  “And our Sarah’s got herself a real fine man.” Myrna lightly bumped her shoulder as she moved past her and into the kitchen.

  “God is good.” Sarah couldn’t stop smiling as she headed to wait on more customers.

  Chapter 30

  ♥

  Friday, June 15, 1962

  Sarah traded glances with Randy Sweet as the Rockbridge Justice of the Peace proclaimed Deborah Marie Harrison and Arnold James Franklin as husband and wife. Randy looked handsome, and he’d told her how pretty she looked as they’d exchanged polite niceties before the ceremony commenced.

  “You may now kiss your bride.”

  “Gladly,” Arnie said, lowering his lips to Debbie’s. The kiss went on. . .and on. . .and it would have continued even longer if Justice Adams hadn’t cleared his throat.

  Stealing a glance at Randy, Sarah hid her grin. Poor guy darted glances at the door, the ceiling, and the floor while his cheeks grew pinker. Since she’d kissed Sam—and kissed him a few times since—Sarah no longer felt such embarrassment caused by public displays of affection.

  “Sorry.” Arnie grinned and accepted the tissue Debbie handed him. “I’ve waited a long time for this moment, and I got a little carried away.” He wiped his lips with the tissue while Debbie reapplied her lipstick. Both actions seemed pointless if not for the waiting photographer.

  “Perfectly understandable,” Justice Adams said. “Congratulations to you both. I wish you a long, happy and prosperous life together.”

  “Thank you.” Debbie positively glowed, and Sarah had never seen her friend so happy. “We plan on it. Let’s get this show on the road, handsome!” Arnie dropped another quick peck on his bride’s cheek and then offered his arm. With a blinding smile, Debbie wrapped her hand around her husband’s arm and gave Sarah a wink.

  Justice Adams shook hands all around and, after the hired photographer snapped a few shots, excused himself from the chambers. Sarah followed the newly-married couple from the room and out into the main corridor while Randy brought up the rear of their small procession.

  “I hear you’re dating Captain Lewis,” Randy whispered to her as they walked down the stairs from the second floor to the main floor together. Their steps echoed on the marble steps. “I’m really happy for you, Sarah. You deserve the best.” When they reached the main floor, Randy offered his arm. Hooking her arm through his, she smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “Thank you. So do you, Randy. You’re a great guy, and I’m sure the Lord has the right girl for you.”

  If she wasn’t mistaken, the fire captain’s cheeks flushed an even deeper pink. “I’ve, um, actually been seeing Candy Wright for a couple of weeks. Things are going well so far.”

  Sarah couldn’t wait to share this news with Sam. “That’s terrific! Candy’s a very sweet girl.” Belatedly, she realized what she’d said, and she and Randy shared a smile as they walked out into the bright sunshine behind the newlyweds, stopping on the wide front steps for more photos. The day was warm and on the humid side, and Sarah tried not to squint as they pose
d.

  When the photographer finished, Debbie tossed her bouquet of pink roses and gardenias directly into Sarah’s hands. Seeing Sarah’s raised brow, she shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Why bother with tradition? You’re my only attendant, and I have the feeling you’re going to be next for the matrimonial march.”

  With a smile, Sarah buried her nose in the fragrant blooms. Her breath caught as she spied Sam on the sidewalk across the street. What was he doing here in the middle of the afternoon instead of at the bank? Her heart raced at the sight of him. Dressed in his best suit—dark blue, white dress shirt and a deep red tie—he looked very patriotic and more handsome than ever. He leaned against a white sports car, imported from the looks of it. Catching her eye, Sam smiled and waved.

  “Dig that car!” Randy said. “That is out of sight.” He kissed Debbie’s cheek, and after sharing a few words with Arnie, darted across the street to speak with Sam.

  “Is that Sam’s car?” Debbie said as Arnie whistled under his breath.

  Sarah watched Sam talking with Randy, noting the way Sam ran his hand over the car with what looked like paternal pride. “Must be. He said he had a car on order, so my guess is that it’s arrived. Came from England.”

  “Looks like you’ll find out soon enough. Do you have plans with Sam tonight?”

  Sarah smiled. “I believe I do, although we hadn’t planned anything.”

  “Seems your Sam is full of wonderful surprises,” Debbie said. “That’s a great quality in a man. You look gorgeous, sweetie, and you’ll knock him out in this beautiful dress. Not that you wouldn’t, anyway.”

  “Thanks.” Sarah drew her friend into an embrace and hugged her tight. “I love you, Deb, and I’ll be praying for you. God go with you both.” She smiled at Arnie standing behind them. “Be safe, and have the best time ever. You both deserve it. Take lots of photos, and when you get back, I can’t wait to hear all about the Grand Canyon.”

  “Will do. I have a new camera and”—Debbie winked at her husband—“if we manage to leave the room, I’ll get a few pictures.” The adoration in Arnie’s eyes, combined with the way he flushed from his collar to his hairline, was sweet.

  Sarah smiled and tears filled her eyes as Deb whispered, “Thanks for standing up for me today. I can’t imagine this day without you.”

  After waving and wishing Debbie and Arnie the best—Randy and Sam did the same as the newly married couple pulled away in the car a minute later—Sarah crossed the street. Sam was still speaking with Randy but kept his eyes on her as she made her way to his side.

  “Well, I’d better get back to the firehouse now.” Randy offered his hand to Sam and the men exchanged a congenial handshake.

  “Hello, beautiful,” Sam said, turning to her as Randy departed. His gaze skimmed over her with obvious appreciation. “You come bringing your own flowers, I see.”

  “Hello, handsome. This is a nice surprise. Yes, I caught Debbie’s bouquet. No teasing, please. There was no one else to catch it except Randy. He’s dating Candy, by the way.”

  Sam laughed. “That’s appropriate. Glad to hear it.” Reaching inside the open window of the car, he pulled out a bouquet of a half-dozen pink roses with daisies and baby’s breath. “You need to add these to your collection.”

  “Sam! They’re gorgeous. Thank you.” Leaning close, Sarah gave him a quick kiss. “You’re sporting some fancy wheels. You could have bought a stained glass window in the church with the money it must have taken to buy this baby.”

  Seeing the quick look of hurt that flitted across Sam’s features made her regret those words the minute they left her mouth. Why, oh why, did articulation have to be such a stumbling block for her?

  Way to go, Sarah.

  ♥

  “I’m sorry, Sam. It’s a beautiful car. I assume this is the one you ordered from England?”

  Sarah appeared truly sorry, and after all, she spoke the truth. He needed to suck up his pride and get over it. Sure, the car was an excess, but he’d seen it in a magazine when he was overseas. He wanted Sarah to love it as much as he did.

  “That’s right. It came in earlier than expected. I begged off at work and drove into Houston this morning to pick it up. Since I had the day off, I figured why not take my girl out for dinner to celebrate?”

  After the comment she’d just made about the stained glass window, Sam held his tongue not to say the one thing he shouldn’t. Telling Sarah he was her mysterious benefactor wouldn’t help his situation. For all he knew, she might resent it, be furious with him, and that would be the end of their relationship before it had a chance to blossom into something more. He’d deal with the situation if and when it arose, but today, he wanted to take her to dinner at Quentin’s and hold her in his arms again. He’d thought of little else since they danced at Perry’s the other night. Then he’d take her home and kiss her on the front porch. His blood pumped at the thought, and he could hardly wait.

  Walking beside the length of the car, Sarah touched it tentatively before withdrawing her hand. She glanced at him as if asking his permission.

  “Go ahead. It won’t bite.” But I might. He hid his grin. Rein it in, man.

  “Tell me about this car.” She stooped to peer inside the sleek vehicle, and then ran her hand across the top. He could tell she admired it, and all he could think about was how great she’d look in his new car, all that long blonde hair flowing out the passenger side window. She deserved to ride in a fine car like this. Since he’d decided not to buy a house yet, he could well afford the car, and he’d still had enough funds for the cashier’s check for Sarah. She hadn’t said another word about it, but neither had she cashed the check.

  “It’s a Volvo P1800. Four-speed M40 manual transmission with D-type overdrive, and a two-door coupe assembled by Jensen Motors in West Bromwich, England. The engine is a B18 with dual carburetors. Lots of horsepower. You see, Volvo wanted to produce a sports car, but their P1900 had turned into a disaster and sold only sixty-eight cars. Determined to keep going, the designer—a man named Helmer Petterson—drove the first hand-built prototype to the West German headquarters of a manufacturer named Karmann in 1957.”

  Sam smiled as Sarah leaned against the car and crossed her arms, but he could tell he hadn’t lost her interest. “They were ready to build and hit the market by December of 1958. But then,” he said, raising one finger, “Karmann’s most important customer, Volkswagen, forbade them to take the job.”

  “Because it would compete with their own sales?”

  He nodded, pleasantly surprised she was listening as much as anything else. Most girls would have tuned him out after the first couple of sentences. “Exactly. This is where the plot thickens. Volkswagen threatened to cancel all their contracts with Karmann if they produced the Volvo P1800.”

  “Poor little Volvo.” Sarah gave him a coy grin and tapped the top of the car. “So, don’t leave me hanging. What happened then, Mr. Lewis?” She batted her eyes in an exaggerated manner.

  Opening the passenger car door, he ushered her inside and then pressed his lips to hers through the open car window. Soft. Tempting. “I couldn’t resist.”

  Sarah’s cheeks bloomed with a pretty pink flush, and she ducked her head. “Please finish your story. I’d really like to hear it.”

  “Okay, since you asked for it.” After dropping into the driver’s seat a few seconds later, he smiled. “Things appeared hopeless. But then our friend, Helmer Petterson, obtained backing from two financial firms. He planned to buy the components directly from Volvo and market the car himself. By this point, Volvo made no mention of the P1800, and the factory made no comment. But then,” Sam said, relishing the smile on Sarah’s face and the lively sparkle in her incredible brown eyes, “a press release mysteriously surfaced with a photo of the car. And that pressured Volvo into acknowledging the car’s existence.”

  “A press release, eh?” A slow smile creased Sarah’s face. “Sounds like one of those television dramas or a movie w
here a conniving manipulator does something sneaky and underhanded to coerce a rival.” As she listened, Sarah ran her hand over the side of the passenger door, the dashboard, and the interior.

  “Perhaps, but I guess we’ll never know.” Sam snapped his fingers. “Suddenly, the company decided to renew its efforts, the car was presented to the public at the Brussels Motor Show in 1960, Volvo turned to a subcontractor in Scotland to make the body, and then to Jensen Motors in England for assembly of ten thousand cars.” He drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel. “And the rest, as they say, is history.”

  “I love your passion for the history of your car. So, you’re telling me this car is still quite rare since only ten thousand were manufactured?”

  Sam nodded. “Indeed, it is. At least in this country.”

  Sarah twisted in the car to face him, fanning the skirt of her pretty blue dress on the seat around her. “That’s impressive, but aren’t you afraid to drive it? Since it’s so rare and valuable?”

  “Nope.”

  Humor sparkled in her gorgeous eyes, and the sunlight brought out the hint of caramel in them. “Here’s my challenge to you: tell me in five words or less why you really wanted this car.”

  He didn’t have to think about that one. “It’s built like a tank.”

  “Excellent answer. Diplomatic, even.” Sarah sat back on the seat with a satisfied smile.

  “For the record, I’m not looking to impress another woman when the one I want is beside me.”

  She stared at him and a smile curved her luscious lips. “It’s almost scary how you seem to read my mind sometimes.”

  What a woman. Sam stole another kiss. “Now, it’s time to strap on the seat belt. Time for me to demonstrate how all that dry and boring information is manifested in this car.”

  “It’s not boring since it’s obviously so important to you,” she said. “I can appreciate your passion, but please don’t feel compelled to tell me that story ever again.”

  He laughed. “Point taken.”

  “I’ve never used a belt in a car before.” Sarah lifted up slightly in the seat and glanced beneath her, adorable in her confusion. “Where would I find it?”