by Gina Wilkins
“Do you think he’s ever going to finish that novel he’s been working on for so long?”
Serena shrugged. “Who knows? But it makes a great excuse for him to avoid extra duties. I approached him about taking over as managing editor—he’s certainly qualified, even with his shortcomings—but he wants no part of it. He told me to hire someone else and he’ll continue to do the job he’s been doing, at least until he finishes and sells his great novel.”
“What about Lindsey? She’s a trained journalist.”
“Yes, and she’s a very good reporter. Too good for our paper, probably. She should be working in one of the bigger markets, moving up the editorial ladder there. But she isn’t ready to take over the Evening Star. She’s too young, too impulsive, too impatient with the politics of business management. As long as she’s content to cover local news, that’s what I would like for her to do. We’ve got a high school junior covering local sports and a retired home economics teacher writing the weekly food column. There’s no one currently on staff, other than Riley, who’s qualified as managing editor. I’ll have to hire from outside.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do,” Marjorie said firmly. “As fond as I am of Marvin, we can’t let him destroy our family heritage.”
Marjorie had always seen the little paper in that romantic light.
Sam slid Serena’s lunch in front of her. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
She eyed the dark circles forming beneath his eyes. “I think what you’d better do is go sit down for a while. You’re trying to do too much today.”
“Serena’s right, Sam. The busiest time is over. Justine and Shameka and I can handle it from here. You’ve done a wonderful job on your first day, but why don’t you rest until I can drive you home?”
A man at the next table gestured to get Sam’s attention. “How about some coconut pie over here?”
Sam nodded toward the other table, then flashed Serena and Marjorie a smile. “I’ll rest later. Right now I have pie to serve.”
Serena frowned at her mother. “You really shouldn’t have encouraged him to work today. It’s too soon. He has to be in pain.”
“You’d never know it from watching him. He’s not slowed down since we arrived this morning.”
“Mother, only yesterday he was in the hospital with a concussion, broken ribs and a sprained wrist. It’s absurd that he’s working today. He should have taken off at least a few days to recuperate.”
“I suggested that this morning. He said he’s tired of lying around doing nothing and he wants to get his debts paid off as soon as possible.”
“And if he collapses on the job? Have you considered that you could be liable under those circumstances?”
“In the first place, I’m not going to collapse. In the second, I wouldn’t blame your mother if I did.”
Serena hadn’t heard Sam behind her until he spoke. She turned her frown at him, hiding her slight embarrassment at being overheard. “I still think you’re trying to do too much too soon.”
“And I thank you for your concern,” he replied, his firm tone making it clear that he wasn’t in the market for advice.
With that, he moved on to another table. Serena sighed and pushed away her mostly empty plate. “Okay, I give up.”
“Don’t worry about Sam, dear. I’ll make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”
Serena gave what she hoped would pass for a negligent shrug. “Why should I worry about him? I have my own problems to deal with. And I have a meeting with a client in twenty minutes, so I’d better be on my way.”
“Are you going to talk to Marvin today?”
Serena winced. “That depends on whether I can find him—and if he’s sober enough to understand me when I do.”
“I know this won’t be easy for you, dear. But if it must be done to save the paper, then you have no other choice.”
“I know.”
“Just try to be kind about it, will you? Don’t be an attorney—be a sympathetic friend.”
Serena barely resisted rolling her eyes. “I’m not sure Marvin is going to think of me as any kind of friend while I’m threatening to fire him, Mother. But I’ll try.”
She was still mulling over her mother’s advice when she drove out of the diner’s parking lot a few minutes later. She had tried to be a sympathetic friend to Marvin, and it hadn’t worked. No amount of advice or lenience or understanding had accomplished anything with him. Now she was going to have to be something he had never allowed her to be—his boss. As much as she dreaded it, she was prepared to do what she had to do.
She might never forgive Kara for putting her in this painful situation, she thought, practically seething with pent-up anger and disappointment in her older sister.
Chapter Six
Often when she had trouble sleeping, Serena wandered outside, where she let the sounds and scents of nighttime soothe her. Though she doubted it would help on this particular night, she stepped out the door at just after midnight wearing a T-shirt, shorts and sandals and carrying a cup of herbal tea. She headed for the yard swing beside her mother’s rose garden, her favorite place to sit on balmy nights.
Tonight someone else was already sitting in her swing.
“Looks like you’ve found me again, Ms. Schaffer,” Sam drawled, looking at her from the shadows of the covered swing.
Her pulse jumped, as it always seemed to do when she encountered this man. She kept trying to attribute it to natural wariness of a mysterious stranger, but she was aware there was more to it than that. She would be lying to herself if she denied the attraction that she felt for him—and she tried to always be brutally honest with herself. It seemed much more sensible in the long run than self-deception.
She tried to speak with the same nonchalant tone he’d used. “At least you’re conscious this time. What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Came out for some fresh air. You?”
“Same thing,” she admitted.
He scooted to one side of the swing and patted the seat next to him. “There’s room for two.” When she hesitated, he murmured, “Scared?”
To prove how ridiculous that was, she sank onto the swing beside him, carefully balancing her cup of tea. Sam steadied the swing, letting it sway gently again only when he was sure she was settled. “It’s nice out here. The roses smell good.”
“My mother takes care of the roses. They’re sort of her hobby.” The rich scents from the blooms surrounded the swing like a fragrant cloud—not overpowering, just pleasant. Stars sparkled brilliantly in the blue-black sky, and a half moon floated serenely among them. As the old saying went, it was a night made for romance—or in this case, Serena corrected herself quickly, a midnight chat with a stranger.
“What about you, Serena? Do you have any hobbies?”
“I haven’t really had time for hobbies lately, though I like to read when I have a few spare minutes. And you?”
He shrugged. “I’ve done a little mountain climbing. Race car driving. Sky diving. Gold mining. Rodeo.”
She’d bet the cup of tea in her hand that he was making those answers up as he went along. He must really enjoy putting her on, since he did it so often. “Rodeo?” she repeated, blandly playing along. “I thought I detected a hint of Texas in your accent.”
He seemed to find that comment intriguing. “You think I have a Texas accent?”
“Yes, at least a slight one. Have you spent a lot of time there?”
“Uh—yeah. Sure. That’s where I spent the last few years.”
“I thought you said you came here from Oklahoma.”
“I said I was most recently in Tulsa,” he corrected her after a momentary pause. “I wasn’t there very long.”
He seemed determined to be as vague as possible about his background—which, of course, only renewed her uneasiness about him. “You got restless there?”
“I suppose so.”
She sipped her tea, then glanced sideways at him ag
ain. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay. Why?”
“I thought you would surely collapse from working a full shift at the diner so soon after leaving the hospital. But here you are, still wide awake and doing fine.”
“Honestly?” His tone was suddenly rueful. “I did collapse—the minute I walked into the guest house after work. Fell facedown in bed and zonked out. I didn’t stir until your mom brought dinner out to me—which she didn’t have to do, by the way. I’m not as tired now, but every inch of my body aches.”
Serena nodded in satisfaction—not because he was in pain, but because she’d been right about him trying to do too much too soon. “I assume you’ll be taking tomorrow off to rest?”
“Your assumption is incorrect. I made it through today, and it will be easier tomorrow.”
“Why do you need to push yourself so hard?”
“Because I need the money,” he answered simply. “I’ve only been in this town a few days and it seems like I owe everyone here. Before I move on, I’d like to rectify that.”
The man was obsessed with paying off his debts. Admirable, she conceded, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of his health. Knowing she would be wasting her breath to argue with him yet again, she let it go.
“So what’s keeping you awake tonight?” As Sam spoke, he shifted slightly on the swing, causing his leg to brush lightly against hers. He moved it immediately away, but the sensation remained—and Serena suspected the memory of that contact could keep her awake for the rest of the night, if she allowed herself to dwell on her wholly unexpected, almost electrified reaction.
She made an effort to answer him coherently. “I had to have a talk with a longtime employee this afternoon. It was a…difficult scene.”
“Let me guess. You were tough and hard-nosed because you had to be, but now you’re tearing yourself up about it because you’re really softer inside than you pretend to be most of the time.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Maybe I’m getting to know you better than you think.”
“Or maybe you just think you are.”
He chuckled. “Maybe. So, was I right?”
“You were right,” she said with a sigh of resignation. “I’ve been feeling guilty all evening, even though I had no other choice. And I know I should have fired him, rather than just threatened to do so. I’ve been worrying about the future of the paper because the managing editor isn’t holding up his responsibilities. I’ve convinced the assistant editor to fill in the slack, but he made me promise I’d either get Marvin back to work or find someone else to replace him. Soon.”
“He doesn’t want the job himself?”
“No. He’s been writing the great American novel for about ten years now and he said he needs plenty of free time to finish it. The managing editor position is too time-consuming and responsibility-intensive for Riley to want it.”
“Lazy?”
“Oh, no, he’s not lazy. Just…difficult to pin down. Riley’s a free spirit. You should identify with that,” she added. It occurred to her that Riley would probably live a drifter’s existence himself if it weren’t for the novel that had been his anchor for so long.
“Why don’t you handle the job? What, exactly, do you do at the newspaper?”
She lifted an eyebrow. “Very little. My law practice keeps me too busy to—”
The swing jerked. “Your what?”
Surprised, she blinked at him. “Surely you know I’m an attorney.”
“No, I didn’t know that. I guess it never came up.”
She could tell from his tone that he wasn’t pleased with the information. “What have you got against attorneys?”
He paused a moment before he answered. “I’m not sure.”
“Oh, that makes sense.” Had she ever met a more perplexing male?
“Sorry, there’s just something about lawyers…”
“I’ve heard all the jokes, so don’t waste your breath. I know why sharks won’t eat lawyers—professional courtesy. I know what you call a hundred lawyers at the bottom of the ocean—a good start. I know why the lawyer crossed the road—to chase the ambulance on the other side. Have I missed any?”
His scowl had changed to a reluctant smile. “Maybe a few.”
“Yes, well, who would you call to protect your rights in a lawsuit? A plumber? Who would you turn to if you were mistakenly arrested for a crime? A bank teller?”
“Okay, I’ll admit that lawyers have their uses. I was just surprised, that’s all. I thought the newspaper was your only job.”
“No. Actually, I didn’t even want that job. My father, who was also an attorney, supervised the operation of the newspaper until his unexpected death a year ago. My sister, Kara, had always planned to take over the paper, but she recently had a change of heart. Since my mother didn’t feel qualified, especially with the demands of her diner, that left me. I tried to talk Mother into letting me sell, but the paper’s been in our family so long she wouldn’t hear of it.”
“So you’re doing all this to please your mother?”
“I guess I am,” she answered with a faint sigh. “My mother seems to think we’d be letting down my father if we sold the paper. Unlike my sister, I can’t do that to her now.”
“Whoa. I heard some hostility toward your sister there.”
“She dropped all her responsibilities and ran off on some harebrained mission to find musical stardom for her boyfriend. She didn’t think about anyone but herself. You bet I’m feeling hostile toward her, especially tonight, after dealing with yet another unpleasant chore that should have been hers.”
“You’re angry with her for pursuing a dream?”
Worded like that, it sounded petty and selfish. “If it were her dream, I’d be more sympathetic. But it’s some guy’s dream she’s chasing, not her own. And she didn’t give a thought to those of us left behind to clean up after her.”
“She loves the guy?”
“She says she does.”
Sam shrugged. “Then maybe her dream is to accomplish something with someone she loves.”
“If that’s true, I hope her dream isn’t shattered when he dumps her for someone more likely to get him what he wants.”
“You think he’s a user?”
Serena started to answer, then hesitated. “I don’t know,” she confessed after a moment. “He and Kara had a whirlwind courtship before they took off for Nashville, and I didn’t have a chance to get to know him very well. He seemed very fond of Kara, but—”
“But cynical Serena, the small-town lawyer, can’t help questioning his motives and worrying about his character,” Sam cut in. “Much the way the good police chief feels about me.”
“I fail to see any similarities.”
Sam laughed softly and tugged at a strand of her hair. “Do you ever really fool anyone with that prim and prissy tone?”
Suddenly disconcerted, she looked away from him, noting that her cup was empty. She didn’t even remember finishing the tea. “If we’re going to work tomorrow, we should probably try to get some sleep first.”
“You’re right, of course.” He stood, rocking the swing, then turned to hold out a hand to her.
To prove again that he didn’t intimidate her, Serena placed her hand in his and allowed him to assist her out of the swing. He didn’t immediately release her, but stood smiling at her in the moonlight.
“What?” she asked, frowning at him.
“Nothing. I’ve just enjoyed talking with you.”
She wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, especially since her pulse was suddenly thrumming and her heart seemed to have added an extra beat. She warned herself not to be influenced by the intimate atmosphere of the night and the roses. Not to mention the handsome, intriguingly enigmatic man holding her hand. “I really should go in.”
He seemed to be staring at her mouth, though it was hard to tell since he was silhouetted against the golden moon. His blond hair glinted in
the moonlight, and she was forced to moisten her lips, which had gone dry for some reason.
Sam made a faint sound—she wasn’t sure if he groaned or cleared his throat—and then he released her hand and stepped back. “Yes,” he muttered, his voice gruff, “you should definitely go in now.”
She found herself lingering for another moment. “Do you have any more pain pills to take if you need one?”
“I’ve replaced the prescription pills with over-the-counter pain relievers. I’m okay.”
He would say that no matter how he felt, she suspected. Sam was certainly not a complainer. “Well…good night.”
“Good night, Serena. Sleep well.”
She turned and walked toward the house, keeping her steps measured and unhurried. She didn’t want to look as though she was running away from him—even though that was exactly the way she felt.
She couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like to have been kissed by Sam Wallace in the moon-washed rose garden. And then she scolded herself for sounding all too much like her sister, who had allowed a romantic infatuation to turn her life—and her family’s lives—completely upside down. That was one example Serena had no intention of following.
Sam’s second day at work was no less demanding than the first, but he found it somewhat less difficult to get through his shift. The day after was even easier, as was the day after that. Either his injuries were healing or he was learning to deal with them better, but he wasn’t as exhausted when Marjorie drove him home on Friday. Telling him she had a garden club meeting to attend that afternoon, she asked him if he would be all right on his own, and he had to gently remind her that he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself.
He appreciated Marjorie’s kindness to him, but he was beginning to feel a bit smothered by her solicitousness. Without a vehicle or money, he was completely dependent on Marjorie’s generosity. He wasn’t sure, of course, but he sensed this wasn’t a normal condition for him. If he felt this proud and self-sufficient now, it stood to reason he’d have been the same prior to his accident, didn’t it?