The One She Left Behind (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Gold, Kristi

  When he reached the bridge, Sam approached her slowly so he wouldn’t startle her. But the rasp of wood beneath his boots drew her attention and she began swiping beneath her eyes with her fingertips.

  Classic Savannah—trying hard to hide the tears. Sam wasn’t sure what to offer first, the tissue or a talk. He handed her the tissue and decided to let her talk when she was ready. He turned off the flashlight, set it on the railing and then took his place beside her.

  They stayed that way for a time, the occasional croaking bullfrog and hissing locust the only sounds interrupting the country quiet.

  After a few minutes, Savannah finally broke the silence. “Have you ever gone through something so heartbreaking that you’re not sure you’ll ever get over it?”

  Yeah. The day she walked away. The unexpected thought jarred him, but he didn’t want to analyze it now. “You mean losing your dad.”

  She glanced at him before turning her attention back to the landscape. “Yes. Seeing you and Jamie together brought it all back. I wonder how long it will take before I can remember him without becoming an emotional mess.”

  “You give yourself some time to grieve, then you go on. Eventually it gets easier.”

  She faced him and rested an elbow on the rail. “How long did it take for you to get over your mother’s death?”

  Obviously someone in his family had enlightened Savannah. Probably Gracie, who always had good intentions, even if she couldn’t leave well enough alone. “I barely knew my mother.”

  “I know, Sam, but it still had to hurt. Especially learning she’d died after the fact.”

  She was trying to lead him into forbidden territory and he didn’t care to take that trip. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  Savannah showed him her famous sympathetic look, the one that never failed to make him want to confess to his crimes. “You’ve been carrying this burden around for as long as I’ve known you. It might help if you did talk about her.”

  He recalled what she’d said in the shop and that provided a way out. “Why do you care? Best I recall, you told me earlier you didn’t.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I don’t like to see anyone suffer.”

  Now he was just anyone. But if she wanted the sorry facts, he’d give them to her, if only to make her understand why he’d always avoided the topic. He’d begin by telling her something he’d never told another soul. “I knew all along she was sick.”

  Even in the dim light, he could see the shock in her expression. “When?”

  “She called one day and asked if she could come for a visit. I didn’t see much point in it. When I told her that, she said that she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be around. I told her I didn’t believe her and hung up.”

  Savannah shook her head. “I know you hated what she did to you, but I can’t imagine why you’d think she’d stoop low enough to make up an illness.”

  No, she wouldn’t understand, unless he revealed everything. “My last memory of my mother was the day she left the farm. She told me that as soon as she had a nice place to live, she’d come back for me. And we all know how that turned out.”

  She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

  He didn’t want her compassion. He wanted to move past this point in their conversation. “I learned long ago that sooner or later everyone leaves, by choice or by death. It’s just a part of life.”

  “Do you regret not seeing her?”

  He’d avoided those feelings by not thinking about it. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done, and I can’t go back and undo it.”

  “You’re right about not being able to change the outcome, but I still have a difficult time believing the sadness magically goes away.”

  How well he knew that. “At least you had some good memories of Floyd. I imagine that helps ease some of the pain.”

  “It does,” she said. “But when I realize how much I’ve missed over the years because I stayed away, I feel so guilty.”

  Sam wanted to ask if she’d ever missed him. If she regretted leaving him behind. He refrained for fear he might not care for the answer. “Like I’ve told you before, Floyd was proud of your accomplishments. And like you said, he understood why you didn’t come home.”

  “I suppose so. But it still doesn’t seem like real justification for not visiting him more often.”

  Sam would have to agree, but he wouldn’t kick her while she was down. “Again, you can’t wind the clock backward. You just have to live with it and learn from your mistakes.”

  “That’s a lesson I’m having a hard time learning, especially where you and I are concerned.”

  Not once had he ever thought of her as a mistake, even after the bad ending to their relationship. “Are you talking about then or now?”

  “I’m talking about my behavior in the shop.” She turned back to the view, both palms braced on the railing like she needed support. “I thought I knew all the stages of grief. I had no idea sexual acting out was one of them.”

  He should cut her some slack but he didn’t like feeling used. “And I thought you just couldn’t resist my charms.”

  She sent him a solid frown. “Your sarcasm isn’t justified since your actions were a contributing factor.”

  He put up both hands, palms forward. “Hey, you kissed me, not the other way around. I only reacted like any man would.”

  “You challenged me and you knew I couldn’t resist. I wish I had a nickel for every time you pulled that on me. I could buy my whole condo building with that fortune.”

  “I was just seeing if you were still the same Savannah.” And wondering if she felt the same spark that he did. According to her, that hadn’t been the case. She’d only been navigating some weird stage of grief. Sam still wasn’t quite buying that speculation.

  “I am still the same in that respect,” she said. “I don’t like to back down, which makes me good at what I do. Unfortunately, that trait didn’t work in my favor today. I should never have kissed you and I’m really sorry I did. It won’t happen again.”

  No one was sorrier than Sam that it had happened, and that it wouldn’t happen again. “Believe it or not, I know where you’re coming from. I’ve been known to use sex as a means to forget.”

  She sent him a sideways glance. “Is that what you did after the divorce?”

  That’s what he’d done after she left town. “Sometimes you just need someone to hold to help you make it through a loss. At least that’s what you think you need. Meaningless sex is a sorry substitute for having a real friend to lean on.”

  “Real friends can be hard to come by in my world.”

  That was an acknowledgment he’d never thought to hear coming out of her mouth. “I’ve always known you to have a slew of friends, Savannah.”

  She tugged at the hem of the too-big T-shirt. His T-shirt. “I’ve been too busy building my law practice to socialize that often. And when I do attend the occasional cocktail party with colleagues, it’s hard to tell a prospective friend from someone who’s just playing you to get ahead.”

  Nothing like a cutthroat career. “That’s pretty sad, not having friends.”

  “That’s the price you pay for being in my line of work.” She hid a yawn behind her hand. “What time is it?”

  Sam turned on the flashlight and checked his watch. “It’s nearly eleven.”

  She stretched her arms above her head and faced him again. “It’s getting late. I need to go home and you have a little girl waiting for you to say good-night.”

  For some strange reason, he didn’t want to leave Savannah just yet. “Since Jamie’s probably already asleep, I’ll walk you home.”

  “I can make it on my own.”

  He was well aware of that. Deciding not to push, Sam grabbed the flashlight and tried to hand it to her. “Then take this, just in case.”

  She waved the offer away. “That’s not necessary, either. The moon’s bright enough to light the way. Besides, I could walk this
path in my sleep.”

  “You could, but I don’t want you to fall and break something.”

  “If that happens, I’ll yell loudly and you can send out a rescue party. Have a good night.”

  “You, too.”

  She started away, then turned back to him again with a smile that went straight to his soul. “Oh, and I forgot to say thanks for listening to me. Believe it or not, you’ve really helped.”

  Sam had a hard time believing that anything he’d said had been beneficial. Then he suddenly realized he’d been going about this all wrong. Great sex hadn’t been the only major aspect of their shared past. Honest-to-goodness dialogue had been the cornerstone of their relationship. “Feel free to call me if you need anything.”

  She laid her palm against her chest like a practiced drama queen. “Why, Samuel McBriar, you’re actually being nice to me. What’s the catch?”

  He couldn’t blame her for being suspicious. “No catch. I just thought you might need a friend while you’re here, in case you end up on the wrong side of Ruth.”

  And he thought she couldn’t look more amazed. “You’re actually suggesting friendship?”

  Yeah, he was in a sense. “Stranger things have happened. Now, I’m not saying we have to pal around. I’m just saying I’m willing to listen if you want to talk.”

  “Do you really think we can do that, Sam? We’ve said some fairly hurtful things to each other. I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to get past that.”

  Neither was Sam, but he was willing to try for her sake. Maybe even for his. “We just had a fairly decent conversation and I don’t remember more than a couple of flying insults.”

  “That doesn’t mean we won’t slide back into bitterness mode again. Perhaps we should just end it on a friendly note and leave it at that.”

  That might be a sensible course of action, but solid sense hadn’t always come into play when it came to Savannah. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll abide by the decision. But the offer still stands if you change your mind.” And he could come up with a few ways to help her change her mind, all involving his mouth, but only in the talking sense.

  “I’ll think about it,” she said as she headed for home.

  As Sam watched Savannah start across the bridge, he realized that if he wanted to show her what she’d been missing, friendship was the best way to go. He just wished he’d thought of it before she’d kissed him. Of course, spending more time with her meant he’d run the risk of getting his heart pounded again just to prove a point. He could handle it. Hell, he was raising a daughter and running a farm. Remaining emotionally distant couldn’t be any tougher than either of those responsibilities.

  Problem was, he’d originally thought a little revenge would taste mighty sweet. Now he realized that after all the things she’d said to him today, he had something to prove. He needed to prove he wasn’t that cruel kid who hadn’t been able to swallow his pride in order to wish her well. He needed to prove that the man had moved on without her, and he could do it again. More important, he needed to prove it to himself.

  Life would be much easier if he made peace with the past, and that’s what he planned to do before Savannah left in the next few days. Only this time, he’d be the one to walk away.

  AS SHE ENTERED THE DARKENED house, Savannah tried to be as quiet as possible in deference to farm-life rules—in bed by nine, up before dawn. Yet as she scaled the stairs, the wood protested her weight with a series of creaks. The same noises that had gotten her into trouble when she’d stayed out too late with Sam.

  Sam…

  Even now, he continued to invade her mind like a favorite poem. Even years later, she’d fallen into old behaviors that should have been erased from her life long ago. Maybe those behaviors had stemmed from grief. Perhaps she had needed someone to turn to for comfort and he’d simply been available. If only it were that easy. If only that were true.

  More important—and extremely surprising—he’d confided in her about his mother, hard secrets she wagered he’d kept from his family. She questioned why her and why now, but the answer seemed fairly obvious. They’d been confidants from the beginning. The fact that they’d so readily taken up where they left off tonight did disturb her, but not enough to completely rule out his proposal.

  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.”