Jerry stood and pulled out his wife’s chair. She’d arrived somewhere in the middle of the main course after taking their kids somewhere, Jett presumed from snatches of overheard conversation. The rest of their table didn’t take long to head for the dance floor either, and soon it was just Jett and Salem left alone.
Jett looked over at her, feeling awkward. He wanted to ask her to dance, but he wasn’t sure if he should ask her to dance, considering. He scrubbed his palms over his knees and chuckled inwardly. When was the last time he’d felt awkward around a woman? She was not only so beautiful that she made his mouth dry, but she had reduced him to the butterflies and sweaty palms of his junior high era.
He scrabbled for his wallet in the inside pocket of his jacket and tugged the tablet closer. Swiping his card, he tapped in the amount of a generous donation and confirmed the payment.
Beside him Salem reached for her coffee cup and her scent once again tantalized him.
He pressed his lips together and tucked his wallet back into his coat. If he didn’t watch out he was sure to get his heart broken when he headed back to Florida.
She lifted the cup, sipping delicately. Her eyes were large and luminous when she looked over at him.
“D.I.M.E.S. is a good non-profit.” Junior high era for sure. Couldn’t he think of anything better to say?
She nodded. “Thanks for giving to them. I wish I could give more.”
“Excuse me? Would you be willing to cut the rug with me?” A guy, probably in his mid-twenties, stood before their table, his hair slicked to one side with enough grease to deep fry a field of potatoes. And when he said “cut the rug” he swiveled his hips in a way Jett could only imagine he thought provocative. His square black glasses slipped slightly lower, causing him to peer at Salem above the rims. The bow tie at his throat was black with bold white words—“Star” on one side, and “Trek” on the other.
Salem’s eyes widened, and Jett saw her hand tighten around the handle of her coffee cup.
“What do you say?” The guy was practically begging.
Jett stood and pulled out her chair. “I’m sorry. I was finishing up a donation. We were just headed to the dance floor.”
Salem lurched from her chair, practically tossing her coffee cup back onto the table. She clutched Jett’s hand so hard he thought he might lose circulation. “Yes. I’m with him.”
“I see. I understand.” The young man pushed his glasses up with one blunt finger, and Jett noticed that his cuff links were mini Enterprise ships. The poor guy might have just been turned away from the doors of Comic Con for all the dejection that sagged his expression.
“Sorry.” Salem offered the parting kindness, but then dragged Jett to the edge of the dance floor and all but lunged into his arms.
“My hero,” she whispered after he swept her into the crowd.
He chuckled. “You can claim me as your hero anytime, if it gets you to leap into my arms.”
Her face heated. “Sorry about that.”
“I wanted to dance with you anyway.”
She searched his face as though to assure herself that he’d spoken truth and apparently was satisfied.
The song segued into a slower one, and Salem leaned close and rested her head on his shoulder. Her waist was small against the curve of his hand. He swallowed and lightened his touch. But he didn’t stop himself from dipping his head to inhale the intoxicating scent of her hair.
Tomorrow was Sunday.
What had he just been telling himself about a broken heart?
Sunday morning arrived much too soon for Salem’s liking.
She and Jett had arrived back in Riversong late the evening before. Jett had helped her unload the groceries they’d stopped to purchase on the way home, and they’d nearly been done when Gran had awoken and needed help. Salem had run to her room to help her, but it had taken longer than expected, and when she returned to the kitchen Jett had already gone to his room.
The whole night had been another sleepless regime with Gran not sleeping well. The monitor Salem kept in her room helped her hear when Gran was awake, but each time she had to run downstairs to take care of her needs. Salem was beginning to realize that her being upstairs while Gran was on the main floor wasn’t going to work. Much as she hated to give up the upper floor living space, she was going to have to move into Jett’s room as soon as he left so that she’d be nearer to Gran in the night. She’d also made a mental note to talk to Gran’s doctor about getting her a different sleep-aid. Because neither of them could keep going on the minimal sleep they were getting.
Gran had eaten an early breakfast since they’d both been awake anyhow, and now she was sleeping again while Salem made the last breakfast she would make for Jett and tried to keep her exhausted self from collapsing into a fit of tears. Had she really thought he would stay? The whole time she’d been telling herself not to get too involved. Not to let her heart grow committed. And apparently she’d failed miserably on both counts, because she was dreading his departure with every fiber of her being.
She’d heard him haul his stuff out to his truck. And now he stepped into the kitchen and planted his shoulder into the doorframe, just like he had that first morning.
“All packed?” She tried to keep her voice perky, despite the dread washing through her.
He scrubbed his fingers over his jaw. “Yeah.”
“What time is your flight?” She bustled through the kitchen, keeping her hands busy doing anything that would prevent her from having to look into his eyes.
“Leaves at eleven fifteen.”
Which meant he had to be to the airport by ten, so he needed to get on the road within the next few minutes. “Well, I’ve got your breakfast ready.” Her voice hitched. For the past few weeks he’d taken breakfast in here with Gran and her, but this morning she really needed distance between them. “If you want to take a seat”—she motioned with her head toward the formal dining room—“I’ll bring it right out to you.”
“Salem, don’t.”
She froze, her back still to him. The granite of the countertop pressed cool against her palms as she hunched into her shoulders. “Jett, I just can’t—”
His hand wrapped around her arm, and he tugged her to face him, pulling her against this chest. Held tight in the comfort of his embrace, she relished the feel of his chin resting against the top of her head. Of the sound of his steady heartbeat beneath her ear.
Her hope rose. Maybe he’d changed his mind about going?
His mouth pressed against the hair by her ear. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this—” He cleared his throat. Set her back from him. “I’ll call you when I get there?”
Her heart plunged. Of course he hadn’t changed his mind. Why had she ever thought she might even be a candidate for his interest?
He searched her face with a questioning look.
Tucking her hands behind herself, she studied the middle button on his shirt. She knew he was waiting for an answer. She also knew the chances of him calling were pretty slim. “Yeah. Sure. Talk to you then.”
“Salem…” His tone was cajoling.
But she held up one hand. “Jett…just…here.” She thrust the plate of maple pecan pancakes into his hands. “Syrup’s on the table. I need to check on Gran.” With that, she rushed from the room before he could stop her.
Gran was still sound asleep, but Salem stayed in her room anyhow. Dusted every surface including some that didn’t need it, like the walls. Cleaned Gran’s bathroom. Washed her room’s window that overlooked the parking area.
She was just finishing when she saw Jett step out the front door. She yanked Gran’s lace curtains closed, and watched him through them, knowing it was bright enough outside that he wouldn’t be able to see her.
He paused, twirling his truck keys around one finger, his head tipped back to study the sky overhead. Salem held her breath. Please…
But after a long moment, he turned and clomped to his truck. The cab doo
r slammed. And the sound of his tires crunching over the gravel may as well have been a grinder going to work on her heart.
CHAPTER 18
Salem had just finished cleaning the kitchen when she heard tires on the drive out front. Heart hammering, she rushed to the window. It was Zaire. A breath left her in a puff. But when Zai climbed from the driver’s side swiping tears, Salem tossed down her cleaning rag and rushed to the front door.
She met her friend just coming in and pulled her into an embrace. “What’s the matter?”
Zai clung to her, sobbing, and Salem couldn’t imagine what could be wrong. Zai’s parents lived just outside of town. Could something have happened to one of them?
She pulled Zai further into the house and bumped the door closed with her foot. “Come on.” She tugged her friend toward the great room. Can I get you some iced tea?” That was Zai’s go-to comfort drink.
But Zai shook her head, scrubbing a palm over each cheek. “No. Thank you. I’ll be fine. I’m really sorry. I should have just gone home, but when I got to church and saw him there…” She dissolved into a heap on one end of the couch.
Salem frowned. So no one had died. That was good. She lifted the tissue box from the drawer in the coffee table and passed it to Zai.
Zai took several, layered them together and then blew her nose loudly. “I just can’t do this, Salem.” Her blue eyes were red-rimmed and puffy.
Salem squatted before her friend and tilted her head. “Can’t do what, Zai?”
Zai waved a tissue like a white flag. “Landon is back in town, and he was at church this morning.”
All Salem’s ire rose to the front. “The lout!”
Zai chuckled through her tears. “I know. I left the minute I saw him there. He came to the store the other day. He told me he’d moved back to town, but…” She waved the tissue again and glanced around the room. “Where’s Jett?”
Salem pursed her lips. “He left for Florida this morning.”
“The lout!” Zai echoed.
Salem chuckled. “Yeah. For sure.”
“We need chocolate,” they said in unison.
Salem laughed. “I’ve just the thing, wait here.”
Zai ignored her instruction and followed her into the kitchen. Her gaze fixed on the bouquet of lilies and wildflowers Salem had put in a large vase on the counter. “Oh! Gorgeous! Where did you get these?” Zai inhaled appreciatively. “Heavenly.”
Salem snagged the tub of chocolate peanut butter ice cream from the freezer and grabbed two spoons from the drawer. She tugged off the lid and handed Zai a spoon, sinking down at the table beneath the window. She nudged the tub of ice cream into the middle of the table. “Jett bought them for me at Pike Place yesterday.”
Zai plunked down across from her and scooped up a spoonful of therapy. “I’m sorry to go all rainy-day on you. I just… Church has always been refreshing for me, you know? My place of peace where I could leave all the misery of my life behind. And when I walked in and saw him there I was just so…angry that he is stealing yet another thing from me.”
Salem reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand. “He can only steal it if you let him.”
Zai sighed. “Maybe.”
“So what’s Landon doing in town?” Salem savored a mouthful of chocolaty salty sweetness.
“Honestly? All I know is he stopped by the store the other day to tell me he was moving back home.”
“So that’s what was bothering you. I could tell something was wrong.”
Zai held up a finger to indicate there was more. “And that he’d come back to God.”
When pigs fly. Salem winced inwardly at her lack of faith. “Well that’s good at least. I hope it’s true.”
“I know. Me too.” Zai groaned. “I should be thrilled. You know I’ve been praying for him. But all I can seem to feel is all the old hurt and pain. The rejection and the heartache. And the distrust.”
“If anyone should have to work to regain your trust, it’s that man.”
“There is that.” Zai spoke around a mouthful of chocolate.
Salem scooped up another creamy spoonful. “Dale pulled us over yesterday.”
“He did not!”
Salem nodded. “He did. He said Jett ran a stop sign, which isn’t true. We were stopped so long that someone behind us honked, but neither of us saw who it was.”
Humor lit Zai’s eyes. “And what were you doing while you were stopped so long? Hmmm?”
Heat washed through Salem’s face despite their innocence. “Nothing.”
“Sure.” Zai dragged out the word then chuckled. “I’m just teasing. You know Mrs. Norton lives right on the corner by that stop sign and she’s always keeping tabs on the goings on at the intersection. I bet she could tell you who was behind you.”
“You’re right! I’ll check with her. Might save Jett a few dollars.”
Zai tilted her head. “Not like he is worried about that.”
“I know, but it’s the principle of the thing.” Salem suddenly realized she felt a sugar rush coming on. She pushed the carton of ice cream to Zai’s side of the table. “I’m going to be sick if I eat any more.” She folded her arms on the table and rested her head there, exhaustion sweeping over her despite the sugar rush.
Zai leaned forward and laid a hand on Salem’s arm. “I’m sorry he left.”
Salem grunted. “It wasn’t like he was going to give up his life in Florida. I knew that.”
“Well, I say he’s an idiot.”
Salem smiled into her arms. “That’s because you love me.”
“I do.”
Salem clutched for Zai’s hand, still lacking the energy to lift her head. “I love you too. And you know what?”
“What?” Zai asked.
Salem did raise herself up enough to meet her friend’s gaze this time. “If there’s one good thing that’s come out of this it’s that the Lord showed me that there are men out there who offer so much more than Dale.”
Zai smirked. “He could have sent a geek with a pocket protector and a penchant for Doctor Who and that still would have been obvious.”
Salem laughed. “Speaking of geeks! The other night at the fundraiser… Oh, I have to tell you about this guy!” She started laughing. To the point that she could barely describe the poor guy who’d looked so dejected when Jett had rescued her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks even before she tried to describe his USS Enterprise cuff links.
By the time she finished the story Zai had tears of laughter running down her cheeks too.
They visited until Gran woke an hour later and needed Salem. They both gave each other a hug.
“You always have a way of cheering me right up,” Zai said. “Thank you.”
“Hang in there,” Salem encouraged. “It’s all going to be okay.”
She only wished she could believe her own words.
Sunday evening it only took Salem two phone calls to find her witness. And she couldn’t have asked for a more reliable one. Mrs. Thompson was one of Riversong’s most honest and upstanding citizens. And she remembered that she’d had to honk “at that handsome man who has been staying at your bed and breakfast.”
Salem’s next phone call had her stomach quaking, but she wasn’t about to stand by and let Dale bully her, or her friends.
Merle answered on the third ring. He’d been a cop in Riversong ever since she could remember. He was such a soft hearted man that Salem didn’t quite understand how he’d remained single all these years. He had to be nearing fifty now.
“Hi Merle, this is Salem Finn.”
“Salem. What can I do for you?” His tone didn’t indicate any irritation at her call to his house.
“I’m sorry to bother you at home, but there was something I wanted to talk with you about where we could have some…privacy.”
“I understand.” Merle knew the history of Salem’s relationship with Dale.
Salem cleared her throat. “Did Dale mention anything to you a
bout giving out a ticket on Saturday?”
“He did.” Merle’s tone turned cautious.
Salem hurried on before he could tell her she’d have to deal with the issue in court. “The thing is…you know Dale’s and my history. And I have a witness—two if you count Mrs. Norton who saw the whole thing from her porch—that will swear to the fact that Jett came to a full stop. The cost of the ticket is not the problem. It’s the principle of letting Dale bully my friends just because he’s upset with me.”
Merle grunted. “I see. Well, have Mrs. Norton and—who’s your other witness?”
“Mrs. Thompson.”
“Have them drop by the station and chat with me on Monday. I’ll see what I can do from there.”
Salem’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you, Merle.”
“Yes. Well… I can’t have one of my officers harassing my constituents.”
“I appreciate it.” Salem hung up, thankful that Merle had been so understanding about the whole thing. Maybe this would at least keep Dale from bullying her again in the near future.
The flight back to Florida was the longest of Jett’s life. He couldn’t seem to get comfortable. He tried to nap since he’d slept so poorly the night before, but he couldn’t seem to fall asleep either. He plopped his chin on his hand and stared morosely out the window at the clouds below.
His red Lotus Elise Sport 220 was waiting for him in the paid parking lot, and not even the soft supple leather, the purr of the engine, or the feel of the gearshift in his palm could improve his mood.
When he pulled up before his driveway, only to encounter a pack of journalists, he growled audibly. News had travelled quickly from yesterday in Washington to today in Florida. Someone had probably been tailing him since yesterday and called ahead to report that he’d boarded a plane and was headed home. Normally he noticed the tails, but he’d been so enthralled with Salem’s bubbly laugh and the feel of her small smooth fingers between his own, that he had hardly paid attention to their surroundings yesterday.
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