by Leger, Lori
“How about a date?”
“Maybe a B plus—” She stopped suddenly. “What did you say?”
“I asked you for a date. You know, my reward for answering correctly.” He stood and walked over to take a seat beside her. “How about it, Carrie? Is it worth dinner and a movie?”
Carrie gazed at the sincerity in his face. “Oh—I—Ah,” she stammered, trying to shake off her surprise as her brain shifted into overdrive. All the reasons she shouldn’t flooded her mind, doing battle with her desire to say yes. Everything she’d seen of this man in the last few months told her Sam would be a good risk. Every thump of her heart reverberated in her chest, mimicking the four-pitch drums she used to play in high school.
Sam raised his hand, his features tight. “Forget I said anything. I had no business thinking you’d be interested.”
She reached out to lower his hand, her voice strong and steady as she spoke. “Sam, look at me.” She waited until he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “It’s not that I’m not interested, but, there are things going on in my life right now that—”
“No is good enough, Carrie. You don’t have to make excuses.”
“I’m not making excuses, but your timing sucks.”
Sam propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “That’s a given.”
She leaned forward until she could see his face. “My daughter, Lauren, is depressed about the divorce, and I’m worried about her. She’s been visiting the school counselor regularly, but between that and those damn phone calls—”
“What phone calls?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing …”
“Is your ex threatening you?”
“I don’t think it’s Dave. I’m not sure who it is. He never says anything. In fact, I don’t even know if it’s a he. I just know that …” Carrie’s voice trailed off as she remembered her latest early morning non-conversation with the mysterious caller.
“It scares you?”
“It does. And then, after the call…” She paused, not wanting to discuss this morning’s incident.
“What?” Sam asked, stiff-backed and attentive.
“Maybe it was coincidence, but our two dogs went crazy around two o’clock this morning, barking and snarling. I went out to check, thinking they had a raccoon or something cornered.” She ran her hands over her arms, trying to shake off the chill at the memory. “I felt like someone was out there, watching me.”
Sam opened his mouth to speak then closed it again. He pulled off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Well hell, I don’t know about you, but that sounds potentially dangerous. Maybe you need to get the hell out of there. I know that road you live on. We surveyed that son of a gun several years back. It’s out there in the vicinity of nowhere and B.F. Egypt.”
“I’m surrounded by family—”
“Whose family?”
“I can count on any of my in-laws to help me if I need—”
“Then why weren’t they with you?”
“Because I didn’t call any—”
“Why the hell not?”
“And tell them what?” She tried to keep her voice calm. “Help! My dogs are barking?” Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong with you, Sam?”
He shoved off impatiently from his seat next to her. “I wish you’d be more careful. You shouldn’t have gone outside. Surely, you heard about that poor blind woman from Lafayette that some animal raped and beat for three days. The scumbag left her to die, as if she was nothing. As far as you know it could be the same guy!”
“I had the dogs with me—”
“Yeah, yeah, Toto and Lucas. What are they? Chihuahuas, Poodles, or some other useless little dog?”
She blinked twice and once more before she found her voice. “Toto’s a standard white, poodle-terrier mix, but Lucas is a four-year-old Chesapeake with a head the size of a basketball.” She shifted her stance and cocked her head toward him. “Anything else?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
Sam took a deep breath and let it ease out slowly, before placing one hand on the back of his neck. “I hear myself being a dumbass, and I apologize, but dammit, I’m in—I’m—I’m worried about you.”
Carrie stared up at the man who’d slowly turned into someone she looked forward to seeing every day. She’d grown used to Sam the grouch, the clown, the tease, and finally, the friend. She wasn’t accustomed to hearing this level of passion in his voice, or seeing the raw emotion revealed in his face. He cares about me.
“Look, if anything like that happens again, I won’t go outside.”
He rubbed roughly at his face with one hand and nodded. “Fair enough, but you should have called someone.”
“You know if I called any of my in-laws, they’d probably send Dave to check it out.” Carrie laughed as he grunted his disapproval. “Come on, jerk. Let’s go meet the guys.”
Once they were back on the walking track, Carrie caught Sam glancing over at her. “What?”
“Can I ask you something? You can tell me to eat shit if you want to.”
She smiled. “That’s always a possibility. Go ahead.”
“You said you and Dave were separated several times. Why’d you take him back all those times? What did he have that made you want to keep trying?”
Carrie’s steps slowed as she considered her answer. “I was stuck. No education, no job, no way to support my kids. That’s when I decided I needed a plan. So, I went back to school.” She kicked a small pinecone off the track. “You know, Sam, I dropped out of my first semester of college when I married Dave. At eighteen, I went from my parents’ household to Dave’s. Being out there alone and responsible for myself and my kids is a huge step for me. At times, it’s overwhelming.” She scuffed the toe of her shoe uneasily on the asphalt.
“What if you weren’t alone?”
Carrie plucked at a stray thread on the hem of her shirtsleeve. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if there was someone around to help, offer support?”
She waited several seconds before speaking again. “What kind of support?”
Sam fidgeted before he continued. “Emotional support, or more, if you wanted it, from someone like me. I mean from me.”
Sam shifted, unable to meet her gaze. The wind picked up, sending the dry leaves of the park’s water oaks and silver leaf maples dancing around their feet. It whistled through the pine grove surrounding the park grounds as the taller, older trees swayed and creaked in the strong wind.
“Listen, Sam. I’m newly-divorced, and I’ve got three kids to think about. If you’re just looking for someone to take to bed—”
His hand flew up to stop her mid-sentence. “That’s not what this is about. I’m not interested in a fling. I think you’re a brave, beautiful lady, and I’m impressed as hell at what you’ve accomplished.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tapped the heel of his work boot on the asphalt track. “I’ll be honest with you,” he said, his voice steady. “I never thought I’d have the heart to try this again. But there’s something about you that makes me want to risk it.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed. “You have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into.”
“I know you,” he admitted. “I know your favorite food in the world is boiled crawfish, your favorite dessert is homemade banana pudding. You despise daylight savings time. Your favorite color is burgundy, and you look good in it, but you look even better in forest green. I know you used to cry when you heard the song Hold On by Wilson Phillips, because you felt like they wrote it for you. Every Christmas you make it a point to watch A Christmas Story, It’s a Wonderful Life, and the fifties version of A Christmas Carol with Alistair Sim.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and grabbed the back of his neck, elbows forward, as he released his breath in a long, slow hiss. “I’m screwing this up, I know I am.”
Carrie stepped forward to place a hand on his arm. “No, you’re not, an
d I’m flattered, and maybe once I’m in my new place I can think about it. My life is too complicated right now. Too many unanswered questions to take a step like that. I need to learn to be alone with me for a while.”
She lifted her hands and dropped them to her sides again. “All I can do is to ask you to be patient.” She stared up him, her pulse quickening, as the drums re-established the rhythm in her ears. She had to dig deep for the courage to continue, but she couldn’t stop now. “And if—if you find someone else before then, I’d understand if you didn’t want to wait around until I’m ready,” she finished in a whisper.
She watched, nervous as a crawfish next to a pot of boiling water, as Sam pulled himself up to his full height. She sucked in her breath and held it. He’s going to say he can’t waste his time waiting on me. She heard him take a deep breath, as though to calm himself. He couldn’t possibly be as nervous as she was. Could he?
Finally, he spoke. “You know, Carrie …” He drew out the four syllables in a slow, seductive manner. “I haven’t always been a patient man—”
She nearly fainted as Sam stretched out his arm to place a light touch on the tip of her nose.
“—but something tells me you’d be worth the wait.”
The breath whooshed out of her lungs in a rush. Vibrating with nervous tension, she put her hand up to stop him when he tried to say more.
“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “There’s nothing you could possibly say to top that.” Carrie backed carefully away from the man, wishing for once she could afford to let go of her inhibitions. His one-sided grin caused that single “almost” dimple to reappear, making her want to cover it with a slow, lingering kiss. She turned away from the man who stood staring down at her as though she were the best thing since chicken and biscuits.
At the end of the workday, Carrie glanced up as Sam paused before her desk. She sent him a self-conscious smile and retrieved her car keys from the bottomless pit of her purse. The long Thanksgiving weekend would normally be a pleasant respite—no driving, sleeping in, visits with family members. Somehow, the thought of not seeing Sam until next Tuesday put a definite kink in its appeal.
Sam twirled his keys around his finger as he leaned against her desk. “You got big plans for the long weekend?”
“Just a get-together with my family.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. “You know, my mom and what’s left of her litter of eight kids.”
“What’s left?”
“I lost a brother to bone cancer a few years back, but two of his kids will be there. How about you?”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” He gave her a non-committal shrug. “My kids and I are supposed to spend it at my sister’s place this year. My folks will both be there too.” He leaned over on her desk, tapping his key on the surface. “Hope you don’t have any run-ins with your ex over the weekend.”
“I shouldn’t.” She snapped her purse shut.
“You need to turn him in to the Sheriff’s department for making those phone calls, you know.”
His acidic tone made her drop her purse on her desk as she faced him once more. “I said I have doubts it’s him making the calls.”
“Come on, Carrie. Of course it is.”
“It must be nice to be so sure about things. Exactly when did you find the proof?”
“I don’t need any proof. I know it’s him, and you—” He pointed at her for emphasis. “Need to do something about it.”
“That’s what I need, huh?” She made her tone sweet as honey, luring him like a fly to tacky tape. “Maybe I need a big, strong man to take care of me over the holidays too.”
He puffed up noticeably and pulled out his wallet. He handed her his business card. “My home number’s on there if you decide to follow through on that.”
Carrie smiled and glanced around the office to make sure everyone else had left the building. She tore the card in half, and stepped forward to tuck the pieces into his shirt pocket. “I don’t think I’ll need this after all.” She patted his pocket, the smile still in place. “It took me eighteen years to get rid of one controlling man. There’ll be blizzards in hell before I let another man dictate how to run my life.” She grabbed her purse and walked toward the door with one backward glance, determined not to waste another minute thinking about old blue eyes.
Monday, 2:00 a.m.
The smile broke over his face as she answered the phone, her voice grumpy with sleepiness.
“Come on. Don’t you ever get tired of this?”
No chance, lady.
“Who’s there?”
I’m here.
“Okay, asshole. You’ve had your little fun for the night.”
He frowned as he heard the distinct click when she disconnected. Three sentences from her sleepy lips wouldn’t do it for him tonight. He hit redial, feeling tremendously rewarded a moment later when she answered, her voice a mixture of disbelief and anger. Her answer made him smile.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she croaked.
Afraid not, sweetness.
“I tell you what. Just for tonight, let’s pretend you’re not a selfish jerk and let me get some sleep.”
Or not.
“I’m hanging up now.”
I’ll call back. And he did—repeatedly. A dozen times—just to hear the sound of her voice grow increasingly more fearful, though she tried not to show it. He’d done his research. Her mother was in a Lafayette hospital with a severe case of bronchitis. No way would she take the phone off the hook, good daughter that she was. He was more than happy to use it against her.
Her final salutation nearly did him in. She answered, unafraid and pissed off enough to taunt him.
“Why don’t you say something, you chicken-shit son of a bitch? What, did you get tired of drowning kittens and killing baby birds?”
He smiled. Small stuff. Microscopic.
“You don’t scare me, you know.”
That’s not what the tremor in your voice is telling me.
“I’m taking the phone off the hook, now.”
“Carrie.” Her name rolled off his lips in a tantalizing whisper. Her sharply released gasp told him she’d heard. He smiled, imagining the look of shock on her face, and laughed after she slammed the phone down, breaking the connection. He hit redial, ready to raise the stakes and tell her he was coming for her. Not tonight, but she wouldn’t know that, of course. Just a ploy to raise the terror factor. When he called back, he got a busy signal.
“No, no, no. Not now!” His voice—a prolonged, deep growl—resonated throughout the deserted back alley of the local bar.
He hit redial. Busy signal. Again…again…and again.
A low snarl accompanied the loud crack as his cell phone hit the twelve-inch-thick cinder block wall.
After five days with no sign of Sam, Carrie was surprisingly glad to see him waiting at his carpool pick-up spot. Instead of sitting in his normal spot in the front of the work truck, he opened the back door, forcing her to slide to the middle when he climbed in next to her. She tried to concentrate on her latest library book, a thriller by a cop turned crime writer. Unfortunately, having Sam near enough to brush his arm against hers, to smell his cologne, sense his need to be near her—it all turned her concentration to mush as she read and re-read the same page. By the time they pulled up to the office, she’d neared her breaking point.
Dan vacated the seat to her left, Carrie slid across the bench seat toward the door. Before she could slip out, a gentle tug at her wrist stopped her.
“Please, stay.”
She kept her silence until each of their co-workers entered the building through the back door. As the door slammed closed, she turned on him.
“You were right, and I’m sorry.” His apology was out before she could open her mouth. “I’m worried about you, but that doesn’t give me the right to tell you how to handle your problems. It’s your life and you’re a smart, self-reliant woman, fully capable of making your own decisions.�
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“It’s not Dave.”
“If you believe that, then I trust your judgment.”
“No. Really. It isn’t Dave. I got the Sheriff’s department to trace the call yesterday morning.”
His face paled visibly. “What happened?”
She rubbed at her tired eyes. “He wouldn’t stop. He kept calling and calling. I didn’t want to take the phone off the hook because of mom being in the hospital. But, finally, I had to.”
“So they know who it is now?”
She shook her head. “It traced to one of those prepaid cell phones. Whoever he was, bought the phone in Jennings and paid cash five minutes before he called me. Dave was asleep at his mom’s last night.”
“You’re positive about that?”
She nodded. “I called Ruby’s myself to make sure.”
“So, if it’s not Dave, then who the hell is it?”
“I don’t know. And that’s what really scares me. As long as there was a possibility it could be Dave, I could dismiss it. Now …” Her voice trailed off as she played with the buckle of her leather purse.
“Now you’re as worried as I am.”
She cocked her head slightly. “Maybe not that much.”
“Well, hell. Maybe, it’s time somebody worried about you, Carrie.” He reached out to touch her hand.
She stared at the seat where his hand covered hers. “Somebody,” she whispered.
He leaned closer. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” She pulled her hand back as she stepped out of the truck.
Sam hurried around to meet her at the door. “You never said. Am I forgiven?”
“You are, but don’t let it happen again, please.”
He shook his head. “It won’t. I got a lot of thinking done over the past five days. I’m determined to change, Carrie. Whether it’s for you or just for myself, I’m trying to be a better man.”
She scraped her lower lip with her teeth and nodded, afraid to say anything more.
At seven-thirty the next morning, Carrie walked into the office and intercepted Sam’s look of worry.
“I know,” she muttered. “I’m late, and I look like crap.”
“No you don’t” he countered. “Craig said you called to let him know you wouldn’t make the carpool. Anything you want to talk about?”