Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series (31 page)

Slipping his hand out from beneath Sarah’s, Sam climbed out of the truck. Hoping not to disturb her, he gently scooped her into his arms. The front door was open, and he flung open the screen door before carrying her into the house. He tried to hide his grin at the sight of her head slumped back in complete abandon. Moving one hand behind her neck to give it support, he couldn’t resist kissing her forehead.

Tess and Charlie were working in the living room. Seeing him at the front door, Tess put down her brush and hurried over to him. Sam smiled at her paint-splattered overalls and chuckled when he saw Charlie was equally covered with green paint. From all appearances, they’d had as much fun painting together as he and Sarah had earlier in the morning.

“Looks like you two had some fun paint wars in here today.” He glanced around at the room, pleased with how it was progressing. “At least the others got some work done.” The way Tess blushed was plenty interesting. Charlie gave him a barely imperceptible nod when Sam quirked a brow in his direction. Well, what do you know? Good for Charlie.

“Everything okay with Jewell?” Grabbing a nearby towel, Tess wiped her hands.

“Yes. Everyone’s fine. I’m happy to report that Jewell and Danny are the proud parents of a healthy baby boy they’ve named Jordan in your sister’s honor.”

“Really? That’s so sweet. Glad everyone’s doing well.” Based on Tess’s change in behavior—from her willingness to wear overalls and get covered in paint to her softer demeanor—Sam figured that must have been one mighty important conversation Sarah had shared with her sister recently. Matter of fact, Sarah told him she felt as though she finally had her sister back.

“You should have seen Sarah today,” he told them. “I know she was nervous, but she didn’t show it at all. She was brave, confident, and a big comfort for Jewell. Sarah proved all over again what a great nurse she’ll be one day soon.”

Tess smiled. “I know it means the world to my sister that you support her in that dream, Sam.”

“Did Doc ever show up?” Charlie said.

“Yes, but the baby had already been born.”

“At least he got there.” Charlie nodded to Sarah. “Looks like the experience completely wore her out.”

“Let me take her to the bedroom and get her in bed.” Tess stepped forward. When Sam made no effort to move, she hesitated. “You’ll have to actually put her down.”

“Do you mind if I do the honors? That is, if you don’t find it too forward.”

Tess angled her head as if considering the idea. “Forward or not, she’s clearly exhausted. I suppose it’ll be okay. But don’t get any ideas just because our parents—”

“I won’t. Looks like you two are getting enough ideas of your own.” Sam started to walk past them but not before catching the look Tess gave Charlie. Yeah, something was up with these two, and he couldn’t be happier. With a chuckle, he headed down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He didn’t know which way to go, but he’d figure it out. When he spied the trophies and a couple of sparkly crowns on a bookshelf in the first bedroom on the right, he knew he had the right room since he was aware Sarah shared a bedroom with her older sister.

Sam carefully lowered her onto the twin bed opposite another trophy display he knew must be Tess’s side of the bedroom. He noted the copy of
To Kill A Mockingbird
beside her pillow. Sitting on the bed, he untied the laces of her tennis shoes, smiling when he tugged off her shoes and spied the pale pink nail polish on her toes. Should he pull the sheet over her? Nah, might as leave well enough alone since there was only a small fan to cool the room.

Standing beside the bed, Sam watched Sarah sleep for a few moments before turning to go.

“Captain?”

He paused in the doorway. “Yes?”

“Thanks again for helping me today. You were great”—she yawned—“and a great interpreter for Doc Meriweather. Love you.”

“I love you, Nurse Sarah. Sleep well.”

Almost immediately, she turned on her side. Her heavy breathing told him she’d already fallen asleep within seconds.

♥

The Next Saturday

Shelly Jackson, one of the young mothers on the school’s carnival committee, stashed her belongings beneath the face painting table and sat in the folding chair beside Sarah. “Beautiful day for the carnival, huh? God’s smiling on us today, and we’ve already made enough to cover the initial costs for the new playground equipment. I can take over now if you want to go.”

“Not yet.” Miranda, the granddaughter of the school principal, gave an emphatic nod, setting her red curls bobbing. “Miss Sarah’s gotta finish my pretty rainbow first.”

Sarah held the paint brush and waited until the head bob ended. “I wouldn’t think of leaving until you have every color in your rainbow.” Concentrating on keeping her hand steady, she swept an arc of purple on the girl’s cheek. After dipping the used brush in the jar of water, she pulled out a clean brush from another jar. “I think that’s all except yellow. Hold still for another minute and I’ll add that one.”

When Sarah finished, she carefully smoothed her index finger beneath the yellow arc to even out the line. Perhaps it was silly to be so precise since the paint would be washed off by the morning. Maybe it brought out her perfectionistic tendencies, but she wanted it to be her best effort. “There now. All done.”

The girl turned her head so the other woman could see Sarah’s handiwork. “Isn’t it bee-u-ti-ful, Miss Shelly?”

“It sure is,” Shelly said with an approving nod. “Miss Sarah does fabulous work.”

“Yep.” Another head bob. “Can I touch it now?”

When the girl moved her hand toward her cheek, Sarah stopped her. “Wait a couple of minutes to give it more time to dry.” Handing her a hand mirror, she helped angle it so Miranda could see the colorful rainbow, anchored by clouds on both ends.

“Can you add smiley faces to the clouds?”

“I sure can.” Dipping a brush into the black paint, Sarah kept a light but firm hold on Miranda’s chin while she quickly dabbed on eyes and smile lines.

“I need my face painted, Miss Sarah.”

Speaking of smile lines. Squinting in the bright sunshine, Sarah looked up into blue eyes made even more brilliant in the early afternoon sun. “I was just going to take a break. I’m sure Shelly will be happy to do the honors.”

Laughing, Shelly raised her hands. “I only paint the faces of kids, not Air Force captains.”

“Ah, come on now, ladies. I’m just a big kid at heart. Right, Sarah?”

“No more than I am.” She turned back to Miranda, only to find her gone.

“Her older brother, Johnny, came to fetch her and they took off,” Shelly told her. “She’s fine.”

Sam dropped a twenty dollar bill in the donation jar. “I’d like an airplane and clouds, please. Make them real fluffy. Your best effort, but no smiley faces required.”

“I’ll give you fluffy.” With a wink for Shelly, Sarah instructed him to sit in the chair. “But you have to vamoose if a real paying customer comes along since we only have one chair.”

“See how she treats me, Shelly?” Sam shook his head. “No respect.”

“I’m not very good at airplanes, but I’ll try my best.” For the next few minutes, Sam cooperated, only injecting comments here and there as she worked. “There,” she said, releasing his chin. “That’s all the damage I can do.”

“Damage?” He quirked a brow and picked up the mirror. “It’s, um”—he angled the mirror—“a good effort. The clouds do look very fluffy.”

Sarah dropped the brush back into the jar and sniffed. “Do you want your money back?”

“Not necessary. It was worth it for the opportunity to sit so close to you with your hand on my face for a few minutes.”

“Shh,” Sarah said, aware she was blushing as Sam kissed her cheek. Thankfully, Shelly was talking with another young mother a few feet away.

“What is it teenage girls say when a guy kisses their cheek? ‘I’ll never wash this cheek again,’” he said in a feigned tone of voice.

“You’re silly.” She swatted his arm. “Which station are you working?”

“You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure.”

She eyed him up and down. Dressed in his shorts and T-shirt, he looked no different than he usually did after hours from the bank. “Are you going to make me guess? The pie eating contest?”

“No. I gave up on that when I was seventeen. If you were there, you’ll recall I turned green and ran off. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the reason.”

“Too many peaches?”

“Yeah, right. Mike DeRoss added a secret ingredient to his mother’s pies without her knowledge. Those pies were legendary, and—”

“How could I forget?” Her lips twisted.

“Don’t worry. We got Mike back for that one.”

“I don’t think I want to know.”

Sam laughed. “Let’s just say he won’t forget the chili cook-off the following year.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to run to my station now. I’ll catch up with you in a little while. Been to the cakewalk yet?”

“No, but why won’t you tell me where you’ll be?” She’d been trying to get him to tell her for almost a week, but none of her attempts to bribe, cajole or coerce him had been successful.

He tapped her nose. “See you in about an hour if not before.”

“Maybe I’ll head on home.”

He winked. “No, you won’t.”

“Overconfident, are we?”

“No,” he said. “Confident in
you
.”

Puzzling over that remark, Sarah headed toward the school gymnasium for the cakewalk. All the whispering was odd as she slowly walked around the circle, waiting for the music to stop. She stared at the numbers taped on the gymnasium floor. A number of the ladies from church darted covert glances at her and then at one another, as if they were conveying secret messages. Since when was a school cakewalk some kind of conspiracy? Strange.

Maybe the afternoon sun is getting to you.

Twenty minutes later, Sarah walked back outside with one of Catherine Lewis’s peach pies in her hands. Funny how it’d been the only pie in the cakewalk. The ladies explained that a Rockbridge cakewalk always included Catherine Lewis’s pies. Sensing several pairs of eyes on her back, Sarah turned and spied three ladies smiling from the doorway. They waved. “Enjoy Catherine’s pie, dear!” Betty Raines said.

Sarah returned their smiles. “Thanks. I’m sure I will.”

What was that all about?

Feeling parched, she headed to the nearest drink station. She wasn’t the only one with the same idea, and she joined the line behind Gina, Sam’s assistant at Rockbridge Savings & Loan. Since her hands were occupied with the peach pie dish, she couldn’t tap her on the shoulder. When she opened her mouth to speak, the young woman beside Gina—Sarah recognized her as a teller from the bank—spoke up.

“Can you believe Sam Lewis did that for her? If you ask me, that’s either love or suicide.”

Sarah glanced around, unsure what to do.

Leave now, Sarah. This is not going to turn out well. Listening to gossip is never a good thing.

Not wanting to be discovered and have them believe she was eavesdropping, Sarah turned to go.

“He was going to put a down payment on a house, but then decided to wait because he wanted to spend the money on Sarah instead,” Gina said.

Forgive me, Lord. But maybe—just maybe—you wanted me to hear this conversation.
Was it eavesdropping if she was innocently waiting in a line behind two women—unaware of her presence—discussing something over which she had no control?

Maybe that was stretching the lines of propriety or social norms, but Sarah couldn’t leave. Not that she could move her feet even if she tried. For better or worse, she was going to stand her ground and listen until she figured out what these two women were discussing. What money? Sam had taken her to dinner at Quentin’s, surprised her with flowers a couple of times in the diner, but they made it sound like Sam had spent significant money on her.

“There’s something about this whole thing I don’t understand,” the first girl said. “If Sam’s so in love with her, then why is he risking losing her by paying her way to leave town?”

That does it. Walk away now.

“Miss Sarah!” Miranda and Johnny ran up to her a minute later. Thankfully, Sarah had walked far enough away from the drink station. She dared not glance back over her shoulder in case Gina and the teller woke up to the fact she’d been standing close and might have heard what they’d said. Not that any of it was derogatory, but it was revealing, and their comments left her with more questions than answers.

“What’s up, kids?” Focusing on the two children would be good to distract her mind from going places where it shouldn’t. Left alone, she’d dwell on what she’d just heard and that could lead to nothing good. A feeling of dread pervaded Sarah’s senses. One part of her wanted to escape to somewhere quiet where she could reason through it all. Another part of her—the more rational but annoyingly moral part of her—prompted her to dismiss what she’d heard.

“Captain Lewis is in the dunking booth and nobody can dunk him!”

Sarah stared at the ten-year-old boy. “What did you say?”

“Come on!” Miranda tugged on her hand. “Miss Tess said to come and find you.”

“We know you used to play softball and went to state finals and everything,” Johnny said. Both kids were on either side of her, jumping up and down in their excitement.

“I’m sure some of the men would be more than willing to take a crack at dunking the military man.”

“Yeah, but they’re all over at the pie eating contest,” Johnny said. “Captain Lewis is only in the booth for another ten minutes, and no one can dunk him! You gotta come and try.”

“You already said that.” Miranda rolled her eyes at her brother before turning a pleading look on Sarah. “Come on. I’ll show you where it is.” Taking her by the hand, the little girl skipped in front her, half pulling her along behind her.

Like a homing pigeon, Sarah knew she’d be able to find Sam on her own without any trouble. Pushing all other thoughts aside, she hurried beside them. Less than a minute later, she stood with his mother’s pie still in her hands, watching with amusement as a succession of young boys tried to dunk Sam. Good natured as always, he egged them on in the politest of ways. Wasn’t that what you were supposed to do when sitting on that bench? Say things to provoke or irritate someone in order to get them riled up enough to put some real strength behind the ball thrown at the bulls-eye?

“Ah, look who’s finally come to try and dunk me!” Sam’s brilliant smile creased his handsome face. Gone were the shorts and the short-sleeved shirt he’d been wearing earlier, replaced by swim trunks and a blue tank shirt. Her pitiful painted airplane and clouds still adorned his cheek.

“Want to try your hand, Miss Jordan?”

“You bet I do.” The small group parted. Feeling a bit like Moses parting the Red Sea, Sarah handed off the pie to one of the young mothers standing nearby.

“You won one of Mom’s pies at the cakewalk, I see. Good. You can share it with me later.”

“Don’t you ever get enough of peach pie?” Sarah teased, stepping up to the marked line and positioning her toes behind it. Dusting her hands together, she shifted back and forth and then blew on her hands.

“Never!” Acting silly, Sam did a little dance from where he sat on the wooden bench in the middle of the dunking booth. “If you fail to dunk me, I get the pie. Deal?”

“Be prepared to go down, loser!” Might as well give the onlookers a good show.

“Now you’ve done it.” Sam’s eyes grew wide and he shook his head. “Show me what you’ve got.” He stuck out his tongue and waved his hands behind his head like an overgrown, ridiculously adorable kid. The children all around them loved the show, and they howled at Sam’s antics.

After being handed a ball, Sarah wound up—taking her time and making it as dramatic as possible—and the first ball sailed just south of the mark.

“Missed me, missed me, now you’ve gotta kiss me!” Sam taunted.

Great. Now the kids would probably repeat that one. Just what she needed to break her concentration. That was probably part of the devious man’s plan.

“I’ve got two more chances. Be quiet and hold your breath, Mr. Lewis!”

“I’m so scared.” When she narrowed her eyes, he laughed and winked.

Winding up a second time, Sarah aimed for all she was worth, but again, it fell just shy of the bulls-eye, but closer this time.

“A little rusty there, are you, Miss Jordan?”

“It’s the target that’s a little rusty. Like I said once, you need some new lines old man.” Yes, she was definitely rusty.

Sam held his stomach and laughed as if she’d said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Of course, the kids went nuts over his exaggerations. He’d make such a wonderful daddy one day.

“You missed your calling and should have been an actor.” As she accepted the third ball from one of the kids, Sarah shifted from foot to foot, making Sam wait and drawing out the moment. He deserved it.

Make this one count.

“Chicken?” Sam flapped his arms and squawked. Again, the kids howled. In the process of winding up to throw the ball, Sarah laughed. Really, could the man be any cuter? He was such a good sport. And maddening. Tempting. She was going to dunk him if she had to buy the extra balls to do it. Nothing was stopping her.