The One She Left Behind (Harlequin Super Romance) (11 page)

For a moment she considered turning around and walking back to the McBriars’ house, knocking on Sam’s door and telling him she’d accept his friendship offer and lay out the terms. Yet giving in to impulse had never served her well. She needed time to think, to weigh the cost. To listen to her head and tune out her heart. First, she needed to sleep, or at least try.

After she reached her bedroom, Savannah paused when she noticed an illumination shining from beneath the narrow door at the end of the hall. Odd, since her mother never left one single light on in the house unless absolutely necessary. Either Ruth was currently in the attic, had been in the attic and forgotten to turn off the staircase light, or she was letting her daughter know that she’d suffered through the task of sorting through her husband’s mementos alone. Option three seemed the most logical. Ruth Greer had always enjoyed her role as patron saint of passive-aggressive.

Savannah padded down the corridor to turn off the light before retiring, yet something called to her to confirm that the upper floor was in fact unoccupied. As she scaled the steep steps slowly, the rickety wood groaned like worn-out bedsprings. Darkness greeted her when she opened the main attic door and an eerie feeling settled over her. She felt blindly along the wall for the switch and after a few seconds, finally located it, flipped it on and washed the room in a welcome golden glow.

After she surveyed the area, Savannah’s anxiety eased somewhat. Nothing in the musty space looked
particularly scary. A few hodgepodge items lined the cedar walls, from old lamps to an ancient sewing machine, the cherished solid pine cradle resting in the corner. Yet her attention was soon drawn to an unmarked cardboard box set out in the middle of the plank floor.

Savannah moved quietly into the room and peered past the partially open lid. She had no right to investigate, at least not without her mother present, but sheer curiosity stripped her of all hesitation. Just a peek, she told herself. Just a quick inventory of its contents, she thought as she knelt before the carton and opened the flap.

She withdrew the item on top, the familiar photo album that depicted her family’s life in pictures. After lowering herself onto the floor, she crossed her legs and turned to the first picture of her father, looking so tall and stately in a dark suit, his arm around her mother, who wore a simple white cotton dress and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Even on her wedding day, Ruth looked almost forlorn, an observation that had been lost on Savannah to that point.

She then came to the photo of the house on Carroll Street where she’d spent her childhood. Yet the details of that place had all but disappeared through the years, substituted by recollections of the farmhouse where she now sat. Good memories so closely tied to her relationship with Sam.

She refused to think about him now. Reviewing the album would serve as a diversion, at least temporarily. With that in mind, she studied the assortment
of photographs of her youth, including the day they’d moved to Placid. The scowl on her face illustrated exactly how unhappy she’d been about leaving Knoxville. After that, she discovered only empty spaces awaiting more photos that had never been taken, symbolizing the decline in her relationship with her mother, who’d always served as the family photographer.

After setting the album aside, Savannah rummaged through the rest of the objects that included a lace handkerchief tied with a blue ribbon and several postcards from various locations throughout the country. Beneath her father’s fatigues from his army days, she came across a sketch pad.

The memory of her mother drawing for hours seeped into Savannah’s mind. An era when Ruth’s love of art was something she readily shared with her husband and daughter. Yet she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother pick up a pencil for anything other than writing down a phone number or composing a grocery list. But she did recall that Ruth had seemed to lose interest in her artistic endeavors as soon as they relocated to Mississippi, much the same as she’d lost interest in her daughter.

“What are you doing, Savannah?”

The angry voice sent Savannah’s heart on a dash and her gaze to the door where she discovered her mother glaring at her. She battled the urge to cower and forced herself to her feet for the explanation. “You left the light on, so I came up to see if you were in here. Of course, you weren’t, so I decided to look through this box. I hope that’s okay.”

Her mother’s icy expression said it wasn’t. “That box is none of your concern.”

So much for diplomacy. “Why? Did you start staking your claim on Dad’s things without me?”

“That’s my right. He was my husband.”

“And he was my father.” Savannah drew in a calming breath to avoid a late-night argument. “I thought we were going to go through everything together.”

“You were too busy, like always.”

Savannah barely maintained a grip on her anger. “I’m not going to fight with you tonight, Mother.” In fact, she decided to make another effort to defuse the situation. Holding up the sketch pad, she said, “I’d almost forgotten how much you used to love to draw. If it’s okay, I’d like to take a look at your work.”

Ruth held out her hand. “I’d rather you not. Those are my private drawings.”

Private drawings? Savannah questioned exactly what her mother might be hiding. Nudes? A portrait of a covert lover? Both of those theories seemed utterly ludicrous. Perhaps Ruth was simply self-conscious about her talent.

She was too worn-out to worry about it now and for that reason, she relinquished the drawings to Ruth. “If you change your mind, let me know. Believe it or not, I’m only interested in seeing what gave you joy in the past because heaven knows, nothing seemed to make you happy in the last two decades.”

Clutching the drawings to her chest like a lifeline, Ruth executed an immediate turn and said, “I’m going to bed,” before she left the room.

Unwilling to throw in the towel, Savannah managed to make it down the stairs and into the hall before her mother made it into her bedroom. “Talk to me, Mother.”

Ruth continued to face the door. “I’m tired.”

“So am I. Tired of trying to figure out what I did that made you hate me so much.”

“I’ve never hated you, Savannah.”

Exactly what May had said a few days ago. Exactly what Savannah had told Sam earlier, a partial lie. But she still had a difficult time believing her mother. “You acted as if you couldn’t stand the sight of me most of my teenage years. I don’t know where we went wrong, and more important, I don’t really know you at all. But I want to know you. I want to know what you were like when you were younger. What your life was like.”

Ruth paused with her hand on the knob and pinned Savannah in place with a hard look. “Like I told you before, the past belongs in the past, and that’s where I intend to keep it.”

She stepped inside her bedroom and closed the door, in turn closing out her daughter. Savannah firmly believed she might never break through the emotional barrier her mother had built. Dredging up old history could be painful, but sometimes the past wouldn’t go away unless you invited a full-out confrontation. Perhaps she should learn to follow her own advice.

S
AM WISHED HE HAD A CAMERA
to capture Savannah’s appearance when she strolled into the kitchen. She wore a gray nightshirt that hit her midthigh and from the looks of her tangled blond hair, she’d just crawled out of bed. She also looked sexy as hell.

In all their time together, they had never woken up together. They’d never made love before dawn. He’d never watched her sleep. The moments they’d spent alone had been in the cover of dark. Hot and hurried moments in the usual teenage places, with only a couple of occasions when they’d actually been in a bed.

He didn’t need to think about that now. Not when he’d come over here with only one goal in mind—to show her he could be a friend. That wouldn’t happen if he let his urges enter into the mix.

For safety’s sake, Sam waited for Savannah to retrieve a mug from the cupboard and set it safely on the counter before he made his presence at the breakfast table known. Otherwise, he might end up with a coffee cup concussion. “Mornin’.”

She spun around, hand to her heart, and once the shock left her eyes, she drew in a deep breath. “What are you doing here?”

He leaned down, picked up the brown paper sack by
his feet and set it on the table. “Just thought I’d bring your dress back, but I’m sorry to report that Gracie said you can still see my handprints.” He wasn’t really sorry at all. She’d be carrying a reminder of him back to Chicago, and that somehow seemed fitting considering all the reminders of her that he’d had to live with for years.

She looked around, then held her finger to her mouth. “Would you mind being a little quieter? Explaining that to my mother is the last thing I need this morning.”

He leaned back and propped his heels on the seat of the opposite chair. “She’s gone to town to help Rosie Blankenship set up the volunteer fire department’s booth for the festival. She also told me to tell you that Jess called and said she’ll meet you at Stan’s around eleven.”

Savannah poured a cup of coffee and leaned back against the counter. “Since when did you become my personal secretary?”

“Since you decided to sleep in.”

She glanced at the clock on the wall. “I had no idea it was so late.”

He had no idea he’d be so fascinated with that damn nightshirt. “Didn’t sleep well last night?”

“You could say that,” she said.

“I was up most of the night, too.” Literally.

“What kept you awake?”

If he told her the truth, then he’d probably ruin the opportunity to visit with her for a while. If he told her she’d been on his mind and in his dreams, she’d most likely send him on his way. “I had a couple of cups of coffee when I got back to the house, thanks to Gracie.
She wanted make sure I was fully awake while she grilled me.”

“About what?”

“About you. When I didn’t come home immediately last night, she was convinced I talked you into doing the deed right there on the bridge. I told her to give me some credit. If I’d wanted that to happen, I would have brought a sleeping bag along with the flashlight.”

She blushed just like she had the very first time he’d kissed her, back when they were both wet behind the ears and way too eager. “So sorry we didn’t accommodate Gracie.”

Sorry? That gave him serious food for thought. “Yeah, I am, too. I hate disappointing Gracie.” So much for keeping a tight rein on the innuendo.

He could tell she was trying not to smile, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “Don’t you have something to do, Sam, like maybe run a farm?”

“The soybeans are in the ground and the winter wheat’s been harvested, so I’m taking a break for a few days.”

When he dropped his feet from the opposing chair, she claimed it. “I wish I could take a break from my mother,” she said as she rimmed the edge of the mug with a fingertip. “I had a confrontation with her right before I went to bed, which is why I tossed and turned most of the night.”

Nothing new there. For as long as Sam had known her, Savannah had always butted horns with Ruth. “What did you do this time to get her all riled up?”

“Last night, I came across a box in the attic and she
came across me going through it. She was furious because there’s something in that box she doesn’t want me to see.”

He pushed his empty cup aside. “Skeletons?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure because she’s not talking.”

He thought about pressing her for more answers but decided not to get caught up in the issues between mother and daughter, especially when it didn’t involve him. “The way I see it, it’s high time you and your mom sit down and have it out, once and for all.”

“I agree, but I can’t do that if she keeps avoiding me.”

“You’ve always been pretty persistent.” She’d pursued him without thinking twice back in their younger days. Not that he’d resisted. “You’re going to have to be if you want to settle this bad blood between the two of you. Unless that’s not what you want.”

“That is what I want.” She took a drink of coffee and set the mug down hard. “I don’t want to leave without getting some answers from her.”

She could’ve gone all day without reminding him she’d be leaving. “Then make her sit down and clear the air.”

“That’s my plan.”

He leaned back in the chair and laced his hands behind his neck. “Good luck. And if you decide you need to sound off after that conversation, like I said last night, I’m available.”

“Thanks, but I need to do this on my own.”

That came as no real surprise. “Whatever works for you.”

Savannah’s gaze drifted away to some unknown focal
point across the room and then without warning, she started smiling.

Curious, Sam asked, “What are you thinking about?”

She turned her attention back to him. “Do you remember the first time you ate breakfast with us?”

Boy, did he. One of the most uncomfortable experiences of his life. “Yeah. One Saturday during that first summer after you moved here. I used to do my chores and then come over here to hang out with you.”

Her smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “And that morning, my dad told you—”

“‘Listen here, young man. If you’re going to court my girl, you better come inside and have a sit-down with me first.’”

That brought about Savannah’s laughter. “You were so nervous you barely ate my mother’s pancakes, and no one ever turns down Ruth’s pancakes. She makes the best in the state, maybe even the country.”

He returned her smile. “Yeah, but it’s kind of hard to choke down food, good or not, with a girl’s father staring you down. Little did he know, courting you was the last thing on my mind at that time. I just liked the fact you could play catch.”

She rested her cheek on her palm. “That was the only thing you liked about me, my skills as a catcher?”

Not hardly. “Yeah, and you were a quick study when it came to learning to drive the tractor.”

“I’m so flattered.”

And he was so lying. “Okay, you did look good in shorts, but I didn’t notice that for a couple of months.
You were kind of skinny back then.” Not that he’d ever minded.

She looked a little offended. “You weren’t all that filled out, either.”

“True. I didn’t do most of my growing until our sophomore year. That was about the same time I started to realize you were a lot smarter than me.”

“You were smart, Sam. You just took more interest in the coaches’ playbook than the history books.”

He had to agree. “That’s me in a nutshell, the dumb jock. And if I’d known how far you’d go with all those smarts, I probably would have skipped that first breakfast and all the ones after that.” The words shot out of his mouth like a bullet before he had time to pull his finger off the trigger.

Savannah’s face went stone-cold, letting Sam know she hadn’t taken too kindly to the comment. “You know what they say about hindsight.”

Damn his stupidity. “Savannah, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did, Sam.” She smiled as she stood, but it didn’t quite make it all the way to her eyes. “As they say, you might not always say what you mean, but you always mean what you say.”

Not always, Sam thought as she rushed out of the room. There were plenty of words he’d said to her that he hadn’t meant, and some words that he’d never said, words that she’d always wanted to hear. Just as well. Some things were better left unsaid.

S
AVANNAH ARRIVED AT
S
TAN’S
ten minutes early and when she didn’t see Jess, she chose a booth next to the
jukebox and farthest away from the counter where farmers tended to gather. After she slid onto the worn green vinyl seat, she looked around to see if she knew anyone among the mostly male patrons who’d stopped in for a coffee break or early lunch. A few she recognized immediately and a couple seemed familiar, but she couldn’t quite place them.

As the minutes ticked down, she periodically glanced at the door and her watch. She took out her cell phone, read a few text messages from work and ignored every one. Eventually she would have to respond, but not until she was good and ready.

Just when she’d begun to believe she’d been stood up, in walked her one-time best friend, Jessica Keller Wainwright, the ex-cheerleader and former prom queen. For the most part she looked the same to Savannah, even though she’d filled out a bit and had cut her one-time waist-length auburn hair into a stylish, chin-length bob. Yet the way she carried herself, with her head slightly lowered and her hands tightly clasped together, she didn’t at all resemble the outgoing girl Savannah had known. When their gazes met, Jess finally smiled, though it wasn’t the vibrant grin Savannah recalled. And her hazel eyes didn’t reflect the joy that had once been her trademark.

After Jess reached the booth, Savannah immediately stood and gave her a hug both for old times’ sake and because she looked as if she could really use one. “It’s so great to see you,” she said after they parted.

“You have no idea how good it is to see you,” Jess
replied as she slid into the booth opposite Savannah. “I swear you haven’t changed one iota, Savannah Leigh.”

Oh, but she had, and not just physically. Her instincts were much better than before, and they told her that something wasn’t quite right with her friend. “Neither have you.”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Always the diplomat, but thank you anyway. My butt’s about as big as a double-wide trailer, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You look great, so stop exaggerating.”

“I’ll stop exaggerating if you’ll stop lying. I’m at least twenty pounds heavier than the last time you saw me.”

“So what? You’ve had a baby.”

“I had a baby nine years ago.”

Savannah felt the need to bring out more logic to bolster Jess’s confidence. “You’re also over thirty and I know from personal experience what time can do to your anatomy. Besides, your butt was always Dalton’s favorite part. Now he has a little more to love.”

She released a caustic laugh. “Oh, sure. Believe me, Dalton doesn’t particularly care for the current state of my hips, and he reminds me frequently. Welcome to married life.”

Savannah had never liked Dalton Wainwright. Now she liked him even less. “How’s your son?”

Jess’s expression brightened. “Danny’s great. He’s also obsessed with baseball. It’s fairly time-consuming, with all the games and practices. But thank heavens he’s not involved in football. He’s so small for his age that I’d be a nervous wreck watching him get tackled.”

“That must disappoint Dalton since he was the quar
terback stud in high school.” Heavy emphasis on
stud,
at least in Dalton’s mind.

“Not really. Dalton’s so busy being the rich man’s son that he doesn’t have time to deal with a nine-year-old boy’s extracurricular activities.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” But not exactly surprised.

Jess grabbed a plastic menu from the metal holder in the middle of the table. “I could use something to eat. Do you want anything?”

“Yes, a margarita. But since Stan doesn’t serve hard liquor, I’ll take some iced tea.”

Jess put the menu aside. “No food?”

“Actually, I had a late breakfast.” If one considered a cup of coffee appropriate breakfast fare.

“Okay, then tea it is, even though I really hate to eat alone.”

In response to Jess’s mock pout, Savannah gave in. “All right. I’ll have an order of Stan’s famous curly fries.”

“Great.” Jess tried to catch the waitress’s attention by raising her hand. When that didn’t work, she put her pinkies in her mouth and let go a fairly loud whistle, drawing the attention of the server as well as several men seated nearby.

Savannah couldn’t help but laugh at her friend, who’d suddenly shown some semblance of the girl she’d once known.

When the waitress didn’t immediately arrive, Jess gave her attention to Savannah. “Rachel says that Sam took you home the other night. Did you two do a little horizontal lambada?”

More shades of the old Jess. “He
drove
me home. I thanked him, got out of the truck and he left. End of story.”

“Come on, Savannah. He didn’t even kiss you?”

It was just like Jess to want a recap of some romantic adventure that didn’t exist. “We had a couple of drinks, exchanged a few words and that’s it. No hugs and kisses or anything remotely resembling a mating ritual. Not that night.”

Jess looked as though she’d struck gold. “That night? There’ve been others?”

Great. Just great. “We’ve been together a couple of times.” Now that sounded extremely suspect. “Not that kind of together. We had dinner at his farm with the family present.”

Jess narrowed her eyes. “And you’re telling me that you and Sam, the hottest couple in the history of Placid High, are having a strictly platonic relationship?”

Evidently her blush had given her away. “Okay, we’ve had one kiss.”

Jess slapped her palms on the table and nearly knocked over the napkin holder. “I knew it.” She leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “Give me details. My sex life is on life support, so I need a vicarious thrill from you.”

That had Savannah questioning why Jess was still with Dalton, something she would address later. Right now she could use some advice. “Sorry, there’s nothing more to tell. But there does happen to be a proposition in the works.”