Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series

by JoAnn Durgin

  If he didn’t want to get his face slapped, he couldn’t reveal the complete truth. He’d need to come up with a plausible explanation. “I was thinking how good Charlie and Tess are together. She brings out the best in him, and he does the same for Tess.” Sam laughed. “I’ll say one thing. You sure are relentless as a landowner and that sister of yours can be equally conniving.” After dinner, they’d all enjoyed a fun evening playing Monopoly.

  Sarah laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “You’re just upset because I bankrupted the vice president of Rockbridge Savings & Loan. I hated to do it, but when you rent my houses and hotels, you’ve got to pay up, mister.” She patted one hand on his chest. “You’re a handsome loser, so you’re forgiven.”

  “I’m forgiven?” Laughing, he kissed the top of her head. “I’ll forgive you as long as you promise to never call me loser again, in any sense of the word.”

  “Promise.” He loved sitting like this with Sarah. A gentle rain began to fall, filling the air with the scent of blooming roses and damp earth. He kept them swinging, content in the quiet.

  “We haven’t been to the creek as much lately. Why is that?” she said.

  “Probably because I no longer need to follow you to the creek and then pretend I ran into you by accident, or at least without forethought.”

  “What?” Sitting up on the swing, Sarah gave him an incredulous look. “You planned it?”

  He grinned. “Come on, Sarah. You must know I created opportunities to spend time with you. I’m glad you can be such a creature of habit. Once I realized you went to the creek almost every evening, I made sure I sat and read the paper by the front window. As soon as I saw you come out of your house and come down the street, I’d walk about ten minutes behind you.”

  “You followed me?” She sounded surprised but not mad.

  “Not always but sometimes. Call me weird stalker guy. Does that bother you?”

  Sarah feigned outrage for a few more seconds before her gorgeous smile emerged. “No. I actually like it, but only because it’s you. If it were anyone else, then it would bother me.” She tugged on the collar of his shirt. “How clueless was I? I thought it was a God thing, like you just happened to find me there. As if the Holy Spirit whispered to you and filled you with a conviction to visit the creek at such and such a time.” Her eyes widened. “Is that a bad thing to say? Irreverent, I mean?”

  He chuckled. “No, I don’t think so. I know what you meant. More like God bellowed and told me to hightail it over there and get to know my neighbor again. For the record, the very first time I found you at the creek, it was by accident.”

  “Oh, I disagree.” With her hand still on his collar, she pulled him close. “It was no accident.”

  “Hmm,” he murmured. “If this is the way you disagree, let’s do some more of it.”

  “Dad might be coming out any minute to check on us,” she whispered against his lips. That was no idle threat. Bill had a habit of flicking that front porch light on and off in rapid succession as his cue they’d spent enough time together. Made him feel like a teenager stealing kisses with Sarah, but maybe it was for the best.

  “All the more reason not to waste time talking.” He lowered his head, anticipating the taste of her sweet lips. The way she responded to him made him forget about everything else in the world and turned him into a romantic fool.

  Lightly pushing against his chest, Sarah shook her head. She didn’t want to kiss him? That was a first. He didn’t like it, but maybe it was best since he needed to keep his emotions in check. The more private time they spent together, the deeper he’d fallen in love with her.

  He blew out a sigh. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I have one last question before I head inside the house.”

  “Should I be afraid?” His chuckle belied his question.

  “Not at all. I just wanted to ask if, in some way, your new car is a substitute for your plane.”

  That statement surprised him. “A substitute?”

  “You know, replaced the plane in your affections.”

  “My affections? Just give it to me straight, Sarah.”

  Her eyes met his. “Okay, then. Here goes. Why don’t you fly anymore?”

  His jaw tightened. In the back of his mind, he’d suspected Sarah would get around to asking him that question. “We’ve already had this discussion. It’s not like I have a personal embargo on flying the plane.”

  “Are you afraid for some reason? Is it the Ménière’s Disease?”

  “No, it’s not.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, he said, “I don’t know. Maybe it is. I haven’t been able to go out to the airstrip and take Caty in the air since I came home.”

  “Caty?”

  “The name of our plane. It’s also my father’s nickname for my mom. Meaning I could be in serious trouble if Dad ever finds out that I told you.”

  “My lips are sealed. Your secret is safe with me although I think it’s a very cute nickname.” Sarah swept one finger over her lips in a zipping motion. “I don’t mean to push you, and of course, you need to work through your issues or whatever. It’s just that I know how much you love to fly. For years, it’s all you talked about. I remember how happy your parents said you were when you got the acceptance letter from the Air Force Academy. Your mom said you didn’t stop smiling for a week. For all I know, you carried that letter around in your back pocket for a month.”

  “You think you know me pretty well, don’t you?”

  “I do, and please don’t change the subject.”

  Rising from the swing, he walked to the porch railing. He pushed his hands down into his pockets and stared ahead, unseeing. “Like I said, you catch on quick.”

  “This isn’t about me,” she said quietly. “It’s about you. I hate to see you not doing something I know you love.”

  He jerked up his head. “That makes us even then, doesn’t it? At least I offered you the means to make your dream happen, but you rejected it.”

  “I explained that. I wasn’t rejecting you, Sam.” Her voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her. “There’s a difference. Please understand that.”

  “Is there? I’m not so sure.” He turned and looked out over the dark expanse of the Jordan’s front lawn, attempting to keep his frustration in check. “I will fly again, but don’t push me.”

  “I’m sure you will, and I don’t mean to push you. But sometimes the best way to conquer our fear is to face it head-on.” Lifting out of the swing, Sarah walked across the short expanse of the porch to reach his side. His arguments faded a little more with each step she took in his direction.

  “Tell you one thing,” Sam said, swallowing hard. “When I do fly again, I want my favorite, beautiful daredevil beside me in the cockpit.”

  “Are you still taking your medicine?”

  So much for trying to lighten the mood. “Yes.” His shoulders fell.

  “Then you’re afraid. I can’t imagine any valid reason otherwise.”

  “No, I’m not. It’s not that. You’re pushing me again.” Why couldn’t she let it go? Sarah couldn’t know how he missed flying, how much he wanted to take Caty up in the air again. He missed flying so much he physically ached at times, as crazy as that sounded. She couldn’t understand. Then again, maybe she did. While he appreciated her concern, he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

  “I think it is. Promise me one thing,” she said. Taking his hand, she turned his palm face up and pressed her soft lips on it. Oh, my, that was good. His knees almost buckled, and Sam gripped the porch railing to steady himself.

  Lowering his hand, Sam tugged Sarah into his embrace and leaned his head against hers. “What am I promising?”

  “The Lord is the one who goes ahead of you; He will be with you. He will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.” When he started to speak, she put her finger over his lips, stilling them. “Pray about it.
Promise me.”

  “Promise.” He walked down the front steps, thankful the rain had stopped, but then turned back to face her. “Sarah, did you enjoy the peach pie you won at the school carnival?”

  “From the cakewalk? It’s in the extra ice box we keep in the garage. We wanted to save the pie for when Mom and Dad returned from their trip. I probably should have served it tonight. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. Good night.” The corners of his mouth twitched. Turning, he started down the front walkway.

  “Oh no, you don’t. You’re coming with me.”

  Ten minutes later, Sam sat obediently at the kitchen table after Sarah ordered him to stay put. The rest of the family had retired to their bedrooms and they were alone. She came back in from the garage and put the pie on the table in front of him.

  “Is it frozen?”

  “No, just cool. Hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s fine.” He drummed out a beat on the table until she stilled his hands. “The point was that you’re supposed to cut into the pie when I’m not around.”

  “Ah, so I foiled your plan? Good.” She grinned as she pulled out a pie server and held it up in the air. “I knew something was up at that cakewalk. Your merry little band of friends—older ladies, bank customers, young mothers—kept nudging each other and winking at me.”

  “Good for them.” Feeling somewhat disgruntled, Sam watched as she cut a generous slice and put it on a plate. She added a fork and then pushed the plate toward him.

  “Would you like ice cream with your pie?”

  “Not necessary.”

  “For a man who loves his peach pie—especially one made by his mother with her special secret family recipe—you don’t seem especially happy. Matter of fact, you seem rather sulky tonight.”

  She made a big show of cutting another slice of pie, a smaller one. Why was she drawing this out and making him squirm? Taking the chair across from him, Sarah picked up the daintiest bite in the world with her fork. “Shouldn’t we pray first? It is food, after all.”

  “Sure.” He grabbed her hand. “Lord, thank you for this peach pie which we are about to enjoy. In Jesus’s name. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Sarah murmured. “Short and to the point. Nice.”

  “By the way, Fletcher came into the bank the other day. Guess who was with him?”

  She sectioned off another equally ridiculous small bite of the pie and her eyes grew wide. “Sally Barksdale?”

  “Yep. Congratulations on your cupid skills. In other Rockbridge financial news, I presented Martin Benson with a check to cover the cost of the headstone for Marty’s grave. There was enough left over for a good start on more memorials. So, kudos to you for your amazing fundraising skills.”

  “Sam, stop it.” Sarah’s voice was firm. “You’re acting like a spoiled little boy. It’s great to hear those things. Thanks for telling me, in spite of the sarcasm behind them. Are you still sore because I asked about—”

  “Yeah, maybe. I’m sorry.” He put his fork on his plate and rubbed his eyes. “It’s been a long day. I’m kind of beat.” She’d hit too close to the truth as to why he hadn’t flown Caty since coming home, and it bothered him, unreasonable or not. Granted, he was tired, and when he was tired, he knew himself well enough to know he got grumpy. He needed to go. When he started to rise from the table, Sarah pushed him back down into the chair with one firm hand on his shoulder. Bossy woman.

  “Let’s find out what’s so special about this particular pie, and then you can be on your way. I’ll make it quick. You know, before you came along, I didn’t even like peaches all that much.”

  His frown grew deeper. “Nice to—”

  “You didn’t let me finish.” With the pie server, she dug around beneath the pie while he watched. “I was going to say that through the years, I’ve developed a great fondness for them, especially in your mom’s pie. Bingo!” Her eyes lit. “I think I’ve found something. What could. . .”

  Taking his fork, Sam lifted up a part of the pie to reveal another layer of foil. “Dig beneath the bottom layer of foil.”

  She glanced up at him for a second before lifting the foil with her finger. “Well, would you look here? It’s a card of some sort. In an envelope.” She flicked it back and forth between her fingers. “What, oh what, could this be?”

  “Look at it and find out.”

  With a curious expression, Sarah pulled out the card and scanned it. Her eyes grew round. “Sam.” Her voice had softened. She put the card on the table and moved beside where he sat.

  He didn’t budge. He could be as stubborn as Sarah when he wanted. For whatever reason, he was going to make her work for this one.

  “Stand up, please.”

  “Make me.”

  “I’m ordering you, Captain.”

  Chuckling, he slowly rose to his feet. “Only because you’re beautiful even in your bossiness.”

  Sarah inched her hands around his neck, once more draining his last ounce of resistance to her. What this woman did to him. She was tempting under any circumstances, but never more so than when she’d just eaten a slice of peach pie. Wow. He must be more tired than he’d thought.

  “I seem to recall a handsome man at the church luncheon telling me that only someone very special would be given your mother’s peach pie recipe.”

  “That’s right. Secret family recipe, mind you. It’s a once in a lifetime offer, and you’re it, baby. Please just be quiet and kiss me.” Sam lowered his head. “And be sure to guard that recipe with your life.”

  “It will be my honor, Captain.”

  And then Sarah gave him the absolute best kiss of his life.

  Chapter 40

  ♥

  The Next Week

  Sam’s steps faltered as he approached Perry’s. How could he tell her? He wasn’t sure if Sarah was scheduled to work, but she normally worked the early shift on Wednesday mornings. The familiar smells of coffee and frying bacon greeted him as soon as he pushed open the door and entered the diner. The bell signaled his arrival. Sometimes he wanted to yank that bell off and bury it where it’d never be found.

  “Hey, Sam! Have a seat, and I’ll go get your coffee.”

  “Thanks, Myrna.” He headed toward his usual spot, thankful it was empty. After nodding at a few of his dad’s cronies, Sam dropped into the seat. He felt mentally and physically drained and hadn’t slept well once he’d finally gotten home in the wee hours of the morning.

  The older woman’s brows drew together as she approached his table. “What’s made you so sour this early on such a beautiful day?”

  She must not have heard the news. “Merle wrapped his car around a tree last night on the outskirts of town.”

  “Oh, mercy!” Myrna moved one hand over her heart and dropped into the opposite side of the booth. “Is he—”

  Full of mixed emotions, Sam heaved a deep sigh. “He’s hanging on, but he was in surgery most of the night to repair the internal damage. He lost a lot of blood.”

  “Was he—”

  “Merle wasn’t drinking, but he was speeding and hit the tree head-on. Doc said he actually died at the scene, but the emergency personnel managed to revive him. They took him to the hospital over in Springhaven. I stayed until the surgery was over, but then I came back home to catch a couple hours of sleep.”

  “Poor Merle.” Myrna shook her graying head and a tear slipped down her cheek. Lifting the corner of her apron, she dabbed it beneath her eyes. “I sure hope he’s gonna be okay.”

  Sam scrubbed one hand over his face, feeling every one of his twenty-seven years. Closer to twenty-eight now, anyway. Every bone in his body ached like he’d been physically slammed. “Tommy called me late last night. Told me he didn’t know who else to call since Merle doesn’t have any family left and because he works at the bank with me now.” He thumped his curled fist on the table. “I guess that qualifies me as the next of kin, not that I mind being there for Merle.”

  “Merle was
mighty lucky you gave him that job. I know he appreciated it. I’ve always said that boy was the most likely person in this town to kill himself, one way or the other. Not to sound harsh, but that’s just the way it is.” Myrna heaved a sigh. “Sounds like he almost got the job done last night.”

  “Merle suffers from a legacy of low expectations,” Sam said. A yawn escaped and he covered his mouth with one hand.

  “You’re gonna tell Sarah, I take it?”

  “I think I need to be the one to tell her. I probably shouldn’t have come here while she’s working, but I need to head back to the hospital in a bit.” From behind the kitchen door, he heard Sarah engaged in lively banter with Jimmy and Patti. The sound of her voice swelled his heart even as regret seized him. She sounded happy, and he hated to take away her joy. But it had to be done.

  “Sarah covered Patti’s shift again last night,” Myrna said, interrupting his thoughts. “If she needs to leave, tell her not to worry about it. You take good care of our girl, Sam. We’ll make do.” She patted his hand, and in so doing, gave him a small measure of comfort. “You need to tell her before someone else blurts it out. It’s only a matter of an hour, give or take, before it’s the talk of the diner.”

  Myrna leaned close. “Especially when something like this happens, it’s a wakeup call from God of how important others are in our life. Family”—she quirked a brow—“or otherwise. Before Sarah goes off to nursing school, I sure hope you’re gonna stake your claim on her heart.”

  Before he could respond, Myrna slid out of the seat and hustled behind the swinging kitchen door. Sam leaned back in the seat and braced himself, closing his eyes for a moment as he whispered a quiet prayer.

  “Myrna said you have something you need to tell me?”

  Opening his eyes, Sam cleared his throat as Sarah seated herself opposite him. She looked so pretty with the morning light coming through the front window.

  “I thought I should wait until later, but Myrna said I should go ahead and tell you now.”

  “Sure. Sounds serious.” She took hold of his hand. “Is everything okay with your mom and dad?”