The New Guy in Town

by Teresa Southwick

  She took Phoebe’s hand into her own trembling one, then turned to face everyone. “I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you all. But there’s not going to be a wedding today—” Her voice broke and after a deep, shuddering breath she met his gaze. Softly, as if only to him, she said, “I’m so very sorry.”

  Phoebe protested when she headed for the door. “Mommy, stop—”

  “We have to go, sweetie.”

  “But we’re gonna marry Sam—”

  And then they were gone, the sound of footsteps and fading voices echoing on the linoleum floor and all the way down the hall. Sam felt as if someone had slugged him in the gut with a sledgehammer. All kinds of things raced through his mind, including that he was glad his brother Cal hadn’t been able to break away from work to be here on such short notice. But the rest of the family was staring at him, waiting for an explanation. If only he had one that made sense.

  “Sam, I know that look—” Katherine Hart moved closer and put her hand on his arm. “What’s going on?”

  “You heard her.” There was bitterness in his tone that he couldn’t manage to suppress. “No wedding. And don’t ask me why. I don’t understand it myself.”

  That was true. He knew what she just said and what she’d told him about her parents but he hadn’t realized how deeply she felt about it. This was not how he’d expected the day to go and losing her cut deep.

  “Honey, there must be something you can do.” There was a maternal look in his mother’s eyes and that was dangerous.

  Sam knew she wanted to hug him and make it all better, but this wasn’t a boo boo she could kiss away. “Mom, don’t—”

  “What, sweetheart?” There was pity in her eyes.

  “And don’t look at me that way.”

  “Is there anything we can do, son?” His father carefully hid whatever he was feeling. There was only a man-to-man look in his eyes that said he got how tough this was.

  “I don’t think so, Dad.” Sam glanced at everyone else and his expression must have warned them not to say anything. Fortunately they didn’t, apparently okay with letting the folks handle it.

  “What did Faith say to you?” His mother glanced at his father, as if to ask if the question was permissible in the male world.

  “It doesn’t matter. She made her point.”

  “Which was?” Hastings asked.

  “She’s not into marriage.”

  Sam remembered her observation that he was adamant about not committing to marriage. She’d teased him about keeping his secret because if that got out it could cramp his style with the single ladies of Blackwater Lake who thought they had a chance to win his affection. Even as he’d said it, he’d known his adamant comment about never getting married fell into the protesting-too-much category. Because there was something about Faith that drew him. And winning her affection had appealed to him from the start.

  She was beautiful, but it was more than that. She was smart and sarcastic. The combination was sexy as sin. And there was the fact that she was completely unimpressed by his bank balance, except as it pertained to him being one of her best customers who would fund her daughter’s college education.

  Sam had never met a woman like her and his feelings had just grown more complicated with her living in his house. He liked her there. He liked Phoebe there. It was the best time of his life and now she’d left him at the altar. Hopes and dreams hit the ground and shattered.

  “You’re hurting, Sam.” His mother’s words got through. “Let us help.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You might be able to pull off that lie with someone else, but I’m your mother.”

  “Do not say that you know me better than I know myself.”

  “Although that’s true,” she said, “it’s not what I wanted to tell you.”

  “Then what?”

  “It’s not necessary to put on a brave front for us. We’re your family and can see through it so don’t waste the energy.”

  “Or the time,” his dad said. “Go talk to her. She probably went back to the house.”

  Sam knew he was right. Faith would move out. It wasn’t easy for her to take anything she hadn’t earned. In his heart he knew she wasn’t a user, not the kind of woman who would take from him. So she had to get her things. And Phoebe’s, too. The limousine driver had orders to wait and his guess was that she’d told him they wanted to go back.

  “You’re right, Dad.” This could be worked out. He looked at his parents. “I have to go.”

  “Good luck, son.”

  Sam had driven himself to the courthouse and the plan had been for his folks to take his car back to Ellie’s place where he’d pick it up later. There was a reservation for dinner at the new five-star restaurant just opened at Holden House. That wasn’t going to happen.

  He retrieved his car from the public building’s parking lot and drove back to his house. There were lights on and he felt a tremendous sense of relief. It was a clue how worried he’d been that she might not be here and he wouldn’t know where to find her. After parking in the driveway, he let himself in and walked upstairs, past his room, where he’d looked forward to bringing Faith as his wife. But he might still be able to make that happen.

  The door to her room was open and she was there, changed out of the dress she’d worn just a little while ago. His gut tightened now the way it had when he’d first seen her in it, so beautiful he’d ached from wanting her. Now she was in jeans and a T-shirt and he still wanted her, maybe even more. But she was busy pulling clothes out of drawers and putting them in a pile on the bed.

  “Hi, Faith.” He said her name in a firm voice. It hadn’t been his intention to startle her. Well, maybe just a little. After all, she’d just made a fool out of him.

  She gasped and whirled to face him, hand to her chest. “Sam, I—”

  “Didn’t expect me?” He smiled but knew it felt stiff and humorless. “Surprise.”

  She was holding a pair of sweatpants in front of her like a shield. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

  “Surprise again.” Struggling for casual, he leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb.

  “If you’re thinking there’s anything more to talk about, you’re wrong.”

  “No, you are. I have several things to say.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I shouldn’t have said yes when you asked me to marry you. That was stupid. Really dumb. If I were you, I wouldn’t want to marry me.”

  “But you’re not me.”

  She glanced at the dresser. “The ring is there.”

  The fact that he’d been right about her not being grasping and greedy did not ease the bitterness of his anger. But it did nudge him over the edge, into something that he was afraid would hurt a lot more when this conversation ended.

  “That’s not why I’m here.”

  “Then say what you have to. Get it off your chest.” She straightened, facing him dead-on, bracing herself. “Whatever it is, I deserve it.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me.” He didn’t move. “Everything was fine. What happened to change your mind?”

  “Something Phoebe said.” She met his gaze. “She wanted to know if she could come into bed with us if she has a nightmare.”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “That’s what I told her, but it made me think. And remember. By the time we got there I knew I just couldn’t go through with the wedding.”

  “You’re a coward.”

  Her chin lifted slightly. “I don’t deny that. But I’m not afraid for myself. It’s Phoebe—”

  “Do you really think I’d hurt her?”

  “No. Not deliberately, at least. But I can’t risk her being hurt. I know what it feels like. The loneliness is—” She pressed her lips together into a s
traight line. The distress in her eyes was real, palpable.

  “We’re not them, Faith. We’re not your parents. I care about Phoebe and would never shut her out.” Now he straightened and took a step forward. “I care about you, too. Very much.”

  “Sam, you don’t get it. Love doesn’t bring a man and woman together. It excludes everyone else.”

  He had to find the words to convince her that if she refused to let herself be happy, her selfish, negligent parents would win. “That doesn’t have to be the case.”

  “But I can’t take a chance. Being left out is heartbreaking.” She was no longer holding the sweatpants as much as clutching the material in a grip so tight her knuckles turned white. “I know what it’s like to be pushed off onto a relative to be raised, even though I had a perfectly good set of parents. Their only excuse for doing that to me was love. They cared so much for each other that there was no room for me.”

  “You and I would never do that to her.”

  “There are no guarantees.”

  “Yeah, there are. I wasn’t raised like that. No one is left out where I come from. You know about Linc, that he has a different father. He tried to shake off the family, but we wouldn’t go for it.” He cocked a thumb at himself. “I’m not the kind of guy who leaves anyone out in the cold. Especially a child. We’re not them,” he said again.

  “I am. I have their DNA and they were not very good role models. I have no reference for how to balance love with being a mother.”

  He blinked at her, suddenly confused. If she was saying what he thought, he might stand a chance. “Let me get this straight. Does that mean you are in love with me?”

  She all but winced, as if the truth of those words was like a slap in the face. After a shuddering breath she said, “I’m afraid I am.”

  “Okay, then.” In his mind everything clicked into place. “We can work this out, Faith.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Phoebe only has me.”

  “Even if—and this is a big if—we were wrapped up in each other and excluded her, don’t you think she would have something to say about it?”

  “She shouldn’t have to. It’s my job to protect her and not let that happen.”

  “So correct me if I’m wrong. We love each other, but you won’t marry me because we might screw up?”

  “That’s not—It sounds so—” She shook her head. “You don’t get it.”

  “I do. It sounds silly because it is. Maybe you should let yourself be happy. If we make a mistake, we’ll fix it. On the bright side, we might not screw up. At least not that way.”

  “No.”

  “Sam?” That was Phoebe’s voice.

  He looked down and she was there. He’d been so caught up, he hadn’t heard her. There was a shell-shocked, confused expression in her eyes.

  He went down on one knee, to her level. “Hey, Squirt.”

  “Mommy said we’re not gonna be able to stay with you anymore.”

  “That’s why I’m here. So we can work things out.”

  “Phoebe—” Faith’s voice was quiet, but firm. “Are your things all together?”

  “Yes. But I don’t have anything to carry them in.”

  “Okay. We’ll just put them in the van loose.”

  “But, Mommy, I don’t want to leave Sam.”

  “I know, baby—” Her voice broke then, but moments later she pulled herself together. “Someday you’ll understand that this is for the best.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Phoebe, this is something we have to do. Please say goodbye to Sam and thank him for his hospitality.”

  Tears gathered in the little girl’s eyes, then spilled over and down her cheeks. She threw herself against him, her little body trembling. “Thank you for letting me stay with you and use your pool. Bye, S-Sam.”

  “Don’t cry, Phoebs. I’ll be seeing you all the time.”

  “Promise?” She lifted her head and met his gaze.

  “Cross my heart.” He made the X over the left side of his chest.

  “Okay.” She shot her mother a glare that was like a deadly death ray, then walked away and slammed the door to her room.

  Sam stood and faced Faith. “Even Phoebe knows you don’t need to protect her from me. From us.”

  “She’s eight. I’m the adult.”

  “Doesn’t look that way from where I’m standing,” he said. That was low but it matched his mood. When a guy got left at the altar maybe he could be cut some slack for being a jerk.

  “She’s not your child, Sam. She’s mine. And this is my decision.”

  “There’s nothing I can say to change your mind.” It wasn’t a question. He saw the look in her eyes, as if a wall had slammed shut to keep him out.

  “No. Nothing.”

  He stared at her, memorizing the delicate line of her jaw, the sadness in her eyes, then turned away without another word. He left the house, afraid he would say something he shouldn’t. Like begging her not to go. He’d come awfully close to doing that.

  The hardest part was knowing she loved him. That made things worse because he was in love with her, too. So he just answered his own question. He’d wondered if seeing her would make things worse. The answer was yes.

  * * *

  The next day Sam got home from work as late as possible, but the quiet was as weird and lonely as he’d expected. When Faith and Phoebe had been living here, many evenings he walked in the door before them and, even though no one else was there, he hadn’t experienced this particular aloneness. So a shrink would tell him it was all in his head. Maybe, partly, that was true, but mostly it was in his heart. He missed the hell out of them.

  Because he was a glutton for punishment, he walked through the house and let memories scroll through his mind. From the family room he could see the pool where he and Phoebe had so much fun while Faith laughed at their antics. Playing video games and talking to the little girl about strategies to deal with bullying.

  Last night he’d slept fitfully on the couch in here because he couldn’t stomach the memories he’d have sleeping in the bed where he’d made love to Faith. In the entryway he reached down to pick up what turned out to be a sock that must have fallen when Phoebe carried her things to the van. It was a little pink one with a lace edge. That was when a couple of things hit him simultaneously.

  As much as he wanted to right this minute, he couldn’t take this sock to Phoebe because he didn’t know where Faith had gone. He would do it tomorrow at her flower stand in the lobby of the bank building. That would be an excuse to see her. The second thing was very shrink-worthy. He couldn’t be in this house. At least not right now.

  When a guy absolutely, positively needed to go somewhere there was food, entertainment and no family to pity him, it had to be Bar None.

  He grabbed his keys and left the big, lonely house. Fifteen minutes later he’d passed through downtown Blackwater Lake then pulled into the bar’s parking lot. The place was like an old pair of sneakers—comfortable and dependable. Over the roof there was the neon sign with crossed cocktail glasses and in the window by the heavy door the word Beer was spelled out in yellow lights. Both invited a person to come inside for a cold one and that’s exactly what he wanted.

  There were booths around the exterior of the room and bistro tables scattered over the rest of the wooden floor not designated for dancing. Straight ahead was the bar with brass foot rail and padded stools in front of it. There was a seat at the end all by itself with Sam’s name on it.

  He’d barely sat down when the redheaded owner moved in front of him. “Hey. How’s it going?”

  “Can’t complain.” Delanie Carlson had pity in her blue eyes. “You?”

  Sam was here to ignore his feelings not talk about them. So he lied. “Great.”

>   “What can I get you?”

  “Beer. Tap. And keep them coming.”

  She nodded, then grabbed a frosted glass mug and put it under a spout before expertly drawing the golden liquid with just enough foam on the top. She set a cocktail napkin in front of him on the scarred wooden bar and placed the glass on it.

  “Thanks.” He took a long drink and let the ice-cold effervescence spill through him, hoping it would numb every feeling in its wake.

  Delanie was watching him closely. “I haven’t seen you in here for a while. Not since before the fire.”

  Sam knew she really meant before Faith. Or maybe he only thought that because she was all he could think about. He took another long drink and tried to figure out whether to answer or just ignore the question. That was rude, so he finally decided and said, “It has been a while. What’s new with you?”

  “Same old, same old.” Her eyes narrowed as he drained the glass.

  “Can I get another one?” he asked pleasantly.

  “Sure thing.” But pity was replaced by concern in those pretty eyes of hers before she set a fresh frosty glass in front of him.

  The scrutiny was a little annoying when he just wanted to be left alone. “Maybe you should just bring me a pitcher.”

  “Drink that one first. Maybe a little slower this time,” she said, glancing at the mug. “Then we’ll talk about why you’re determined to tie one on.”

  “I’m simply here to relax.” Because his house wasn’t a haven anymore. He knew the pleasant tone he was going for had slipped a little.

  “Okay.” She tilted her head and the ends of her sassy, red-haired ponytail brushed the shoulder of her T-shirt. “But I’m keeping an eye on you.”

  He nodded, then glared at her back until she disappeared into the room behind the bar where her office was located. The next time Sam saw his sister, he planned to have a sternly worded conversation with her. When she’d told him Blackwater Lake was the best place ever to live, she’d left out the part where a guy couldn’t have a good brood at the local bar without being hovered over.

  And speaking of hovering... Thirty minutes after thinking that thought, the sister in question walked into the establishment with their brother Linc. Both of them walked straight over to him. Without a word, she grabbed his nearly-empty third beer and brought it over to a bistro table where she sat down. Linc followed her and both of them looked at him—a dare in their eyes. He tried to signal Delanie to get another one, but she was at the other end of the bar. Her back was to him and all signs pointed to her deliberately ignoring him.