by Dora Hiers
“You really shouldn’t lead him on, Sierra.” Wilma leaned in, her cigarette breath and scratchy voice as familiar and comforting to Sierra, in a totally weird way, as Camdon’s male scent.
“Lead him on?” Was she? Dismay weighed heavy in Sierra’s heart. She surely didn’t want to hurt Camdon by making him think there was something between them.
“Yeah. You guys are always hanging out together. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sweet on each other.”
“But we’re just friends. Isn’t that what friends do?”
Wilma’s sterling silver head wagged back and forth. “I don’t know about that, missy. From where I’m standing, it looks a bit different.”
Wilma was overreacting. That’s all. “Thanks for the warning, Grandma. I’ll be up to the room in a few minutes.”
Wilma nodded and took off for the elevator, her new pants hugging her scrawny hips a bit more than normal.
Sierra handed out the rest of the room cards and waited for the lobby to clear out. Camdon must have finished with his stack and headed to his room because she didn’t see him anywhere in the huge area. She plopped down on one of the plush sofas. Why was she feeling so anxious right now? Maybe Wilma had the right idea. She should check in with Violet. Hearing her daughter’s sweet voice might help.
She tugged her phone out of her pocket and swiped the screen to call Violet. Her daughter answered on the second ring.
“Hey, Mom. What’s shaking?”
Sierra shook her head, smiling. Yes. Hearing her daughter’s voice was exactly what she needed. “We made it. Don’t know how, but we’re here.”
“Rough ride?”
“Yeah. You could say that.”
“What’s next on the agenda?”
“Dinner. How’s it going at Jillian and Carson’s?”
“Dandy.”
“Yeah?”
“Mmmm hmmm.”
“Did you have much homework tonight?”
“Did it already.”
Sierra figured as much.
“Hey, Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“Jillian said before they got married Carson used to come over to her house practically every night that she wasn’t working.”
“I would imagine.” Where was Violet going with this?
“Camdon sure comes over to our house a lot. Do you think you guys are going to get married?”
Whoa! Sierra sucked in a breath, feeling as if she’d just been punched in the belly. “Ah, no.” She drawled out the last word. “We’re just good friends, Violet.”
“Oh.” Amazing how one simple word could hold so much disappointment.
“We talked about this very same thing this morning. Remember?”
“Not really.”
“When you told me about Aurora’s mother and daddy getting divorced.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
“Besides, who needs a man in the house? He’d be just another adult to boss you around. Isn’t that what you said to your friend?”
Silence on the other end.
“Violet, a man in the house would only complicate our lives. Throw things off balance.”
Hadn’t the men in her life always done just that? Wasn’t her life proof?
5
“Down you go, sweet lady.” Camdon extended a hand to Ms. Esther as she stepped down from the bus. He grabbed the walker and pushed it in front of her, waiting until her bony fingers gripped the cold metal before releasing it.
“Thank you, dear.”
Dear? Camdon smiled, enjoying himself. In his job, he usually only got to know the cranky seniors, the ones who stopped by City Hall every week to complain. He spotted a few of them on the crowded bus, but so far, this trip, they were mostly behaving themselves. And he’d discovered they were quite a lively bunch. Most of them just needed a little extra help moving around and craved a listening ear.
Sierra waited by the restaurant, but she left her post and hustled over to help Ms. Esther wheel that funny looking walker past the uneven spots in the sidewalk. She steadied Ms. Esther’s arm as they scooted along, Sierra’s dark head bobbing up and down, the smile firmly in place. When they reached the door, Sierra held it open and gestured inside, presumably where the rest of the group mingled, waiting for the tables to be cleaned and prepped.
He smiled, loving the sweet way Sierra cared for these folks. Men and women who’d lived full, meaningful lives as lawyers and homemakers, as doctors and farmers, and every other occupation the world needed to survive. Just because they needed a little extra help on the last leg of their life’s journey, why shouldn’t they still be treated with dignity and respect?
A scratchy throat cleared somewhere behind him, bringing his attention back to the bus and…Wilma.
He reached out a hand to help her down the steps, but she swatted it away.
“I don’t need your help.” Her snarl was more vicious than usual.
If there was ever a more cantankerous soul, he didn’t know who it would be. He kept his hand at the ready and a watchful eye on Sierra’s grandmother as she made her way down the steps until her rubber soles landed successfully on the pavement.
“What has you all riled up, Miss Wilma?”
“You. Standing there gaping at my granddaughter. That’s what.”
“I was not gaping at your granddaughter.” Well, maybe he was, but not the way Wilma implied.
“Humph,” was her only response.
“And why would that bother you so much if I was?” He knew his forehead was in knots. What did she hold against him? Was it so bad that he cared for Sierra?
“She’s been through enough. She doesn’t need another man in her life.”
He agreed. On both counts. “Wilma, I’m not another man. I’ve been a constant in Sierra’s life since Violet was a wee toddler. I’m not going anywhere.”
She reared back as if he’d just shot a bullet through her heart. What was going in that brain of hers all of a sudden? She’d always acted a bit on the surly side toward him, but she’d never been downright hostile.
“I see the way you look at her. Just don’t be thinking of making any more out of it than what there is.”
“And what is that? Faithful, forever friends?” That wasn’t such a bad base for a lasting relationship, was it?
“That’s right. Friends. Just friends.” Determination lined the older woman’s cheeks. That, and something else, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She stomped away, those stick legs moving faster than any of the other seniors he’d helped off the bus. Wilma yanked the door to the restaurant open and disappeared inside.
A stiff breeze swirled dried leaves off the pavement, twining them around his shoes. So Operation Romance Sierra involved wooing Wilma as well. Looked like he had his work cut out for him on this trip, more than he expected. But he was up for the challenge.
Sierra was worth every minute.
****
Sierra put a hand on the waiter’s forearm to stop him from leaving the area reserved for their group and flicked her head toward the silver haired lady sitting at the end of the first table. “Martha’s diabetic. Would you please substitute the pumpkin pie for one without sugar?”
The waiter nodded. “Sure.”
“And more water all around, please. They all need to take their meds before we leave.”
“Certainly.” The waiter scurried off.
Sierra monitored the dessert plates rolling into the dining room, making sure that everyone received the right order. When the last dish was brought in, she slid back in her seat next to Camdon, directly across from Wilma.
“—mighty pretty tonight.”
Sierra caught the tail end of Monty’s sentence. She glanced at Camdon, hoping he’d fill her in on what she missed. His dark eyebrows shot high on his forehead and amusement tugged at his lips. He must have seen the question in her eyes because he flicked his head once toward Wilma.
Red flamed Wilma’s neck all the w
ay up to her face. Her chin dipped to her chest. “Why, thank you, Monty. That’s awfully sweet of you to say.”
“It’s God’s honest truth. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you more beautiful.”
Maybe because her grandmother was wearing something besides tatty sweatpants? Or could it be because this was the first meal in a very long time that Wilma’s face wasn’t stuck in the middle of a book?
Hold the train! Monty was flirting with her grandmother? And Wilma appeared to be enjoying it. Enjoying it? She was soaking in the adoration.
Oh, sweet stars in heaven! Who had kidnapped her grandmother and dropped this woman in her place? And what was Wilma doing even talking to Monty?
Gentle fingertips grazed her jaw and nudged her chin up to seal her mouth closed. She turned to face a smiling Camdon.
“What did I miss?” She leaned over and whispered close to his ear, trying not to let his scent distract her. Trying, but failing miserably. The glorious combination of cedar and rosemary, of woods and male, drifted up her nose. All she could do was inhale him. She inched back, just enough for the strong scent of decaf coffee to take over.
“I think it’s called flirting.”
“Flirting.” She wrinkled her nose. “Wilma?”
He shrugged. “Do you have a better term for it?”
She studied her grandmother’s red face and squirrely eyes.
Never depend on a man, missy. All they do is leave you hurting.
You have to make it on your own. Don’t look for any man to help you through life, missy.
Wilma’s dire warnings through the years flitted through her brain. She gave her head a slight shake to dispel the gravelly voice ringing in her ears. “I’m not sure. But I can tell you one thing. Those two will not be sitting next to each other for breakfast tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“Why not?” What was wrong with Camdon? She could think of a hundred different reasons why that was so not a good idea. “Because the last thing Wilma needs or wants is for that old geezer to be flirting with her.” Not that she really thought of Monty as an old geezer, but—
“Really?” Camdon’s gaze followed hers across the table. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like she’s enjoying herself.”
Laughter bubbled out of Wilma’s lips, and her hand fluttered to cover her throat. Covering up her embarrassment?
“Oh, sheesh! Can’t you see that Wilma doesn’t actually appreciate Monty’s flirting? She’s just being nice to a lonely old man.” Sierra forgot about leaning in too close to Camdon until she caught another pleasant whiff of him. She edged back and craned her neck, pretending to survey the empty plates around the room, when all she really wanted to do was curl her cheek against Camdon’s shoulder and—
What was she thinking? Get a grip, Sierra!
“I need to get this crew rounded up.” The chair made an obnoxious scraping noise against the tile as she scooted back from the table. She bolted from the room, willing her boots to take her far away from Camdon, from the desire that had suddenly sprouted in her chest.
Desire. That’s all it was. That’s all it could be because there was no room for a man in her life. Not after what happened with her own dad, her stepdad, and then her daughter’s dad. She’d been in an awful spot. Had no plans to ever visit there again.
Wilma was right.
Never depend on a man, missy. All they do is leave you hurting.
You have to make it on your own. Don’t look for any man to help you through life.
****
When the last senior shuffled into the elevator, Camdon glanced over at Sierra, standing next to him. The top of her head just skimmed his shoulders.
A huge sigh lifted her chest and deflated. She hugged her arms around her waist, looking as if her best friend had deserted her.
He couldn’t have her headed to her room for the night with that defeated attitude, could he? He curled his fingers around her shoulders and turned her around. “Come on.”
“Where?” Tired eyes regarded him. Her legs still didn’t move.
“Outside.”
“Outside?” Her voice came out as a tiny squeak. She rubbed her upper arms and grimaced. “Brrr.”
“I noticed a fire pit on the way in.” He flashed his most inviting smile, hoping to entice her.
“Oh.”
Still, she made no move to head outside. Maybe she just needed a little prod.
He cupped her elbow and started walking, pleased when she kept pace with him. When he pushed the door open, cold air blasted them in the face.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Actually, he couldn’t imagine anything better, but he kept that to himself. “Let’s see how warm it is over by the fire. If it’s too cold, we’ll go back inside. Fair?”
She nodded.
He’d already scoped out the outdoor area earlier, so he knew what to expect as they rounded the corner into the luscious courtyard.
“Oh, it’s so beautiful.” Her hand fluttered up to cover her mouth.
He smiled at her obvious pleasure. “Thought you’d like it.”
“I love it.”
He led her over to the prettiest arrangement around the pit, a curved stone wall with cushions for seating, and gestured for her to sit. Once she was comfortable, he settled in next to her. Not too close to scare her off like at dinner. But close enough that she would know he was there.
“Nice.” He stared at the orange radiance coming from the pit, the fire warming the entire area.
“Oh, yeah.” Sierra’s voice came out quiet, almost as if she was falling asleep.
He stole a glance.
She’d whipped her feet up under her rump and reclined her neck against the cushion. Long lashes shuttered over her beautiful emerald eyes. Her dark hair shimmered with the soft glow of the flickering flames.
She was beautiful. And he was growing impatient, craving more from their friendship, longing for more out of his life.
Lord, a little help here, please. You’ve blessed me with so much already. Help me to be satisfied, content with my life, even if Sierra never wants our friendship to expand into something more.
He slipped an arm along the back of the wall. His fingertips brushed her shoulder as he inched closer.
Her eyelids popped open, and she cast a startled glance at him.
“Cold?” Okay. So maybe he did have an ulterior motive when he’d picked out this spot.
“Yeah. Just a little.” She trembled.
“Come here. I’ll share my warmth.” He lifted his arm. When she scooted under it, a tiny seed of satisfaction blossomed in his gut. He sprawled back against the cushions and stretched out his legs, hoping to tempt her to move even closer, to get more comfortable.
She stayed right where she was, but he knew when her body relaxed. Her shoulders went limp, and she nestled her head against his side.
“Tough day?”
“Nah.” She smiled.
He hadn’t expected anything different. “How’s Violet?”
Sierra stiffened, ever so slightly.
But he noticed. “What’s wrong with Violet?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Her tone belied her words.
“Something’s not right.” Alarm made his back rigid, and he sat up.
“She’s okay. Really.” She tugged him back, those emerald orbs twinkling in the firelight. “She’s just asking strange questions lately.”
He relaxed his spine. He could deal with strange questions. “Like what?”
“Like—” Sierra huffed. Tiny lines crinkled between her eyebrows. She played with a loose thread on her jeans. “Like why her father doesn’t ever come to see her.”
“Ahh.” Pain for Violet stabbed him in the heart, along with a jolt of curiosity. In all the time he’d known her, Sierra had never shared the details of Violet’s parentage.
“She’s asked about him before, but it’s been a long time. This morning when I dropped her off at sc
hool, she brought it up again.”
“Do you know what prompted her question?”
“Her best friend’s parents are getting a divorce.”
He nodded. He didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t seem like prying, so he decided to say nothing and just listen. She would share when she was ready.
“Then tonight she…” Her voice trailed off. She dipped her head, and a sheet of hair covered her eyes, shutting him out.
He waited, tightening his grip around her shoulder to encourage her to continue.
“I think staying with your brother and Jillian are fueling a wild dream of hers of having a dad around.” The frustrated sigh that sputtered from her lips blew her hair away from her eyes. Enough for him to glimpse the raw pain hiding in them.
Her smile might have been a bit on the weak side, but she still managed to pull it off. Like clockwork. Didn’t matter how she felt. That smile came out, like a ray of sunshine after a day of dreary skies.
“Does that make you angry or sad?” He wanted to dig deeper, see how she really felt. Past the curved lips and the pearly whites.
“A little of both, I guess. Angry because I’m not enough for her. Sad because it’ll never happen.”
He jerked, disappointment packing a powerful punch. “Never? That’s pretty harsh. And…permanent.”
She angled her neck to peer up at him, her long fringe of bangs covering one eye. That gesture was part of who she was as much as the constant smile she flashed. What was she trying to mask? Pain? Obviously, someone had broken her heart a long time ago. But she couldn’t possibly still be hanging onto that pain after this long, could she? He’d never noticed her holding grudges at work. Or was it from loneliness? Not likely if she couldn’t even picture a dad for Violet. Hmmm…he was going to have to get to the root of the problem.
Her smile changed shape, became softer around the edges. “I didn’t have the best childhood. One of these days I’ll tell you all about it, but not tonight. It’s getting late, and I better turn in.” She unwound her legs and set her boots on the ground, shifting from under his arm, taking all her glorious warmth with her, leaving a chill where her body had cuddled next to his just a minute ago.
