by Rula Sinara
Well, he couldn’t deny it anymore.
Not even with Aggie’s warning ringing in his ears.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
DURING THE TWENTY-MINUTE drive from Opryland to downtown, Ciara chattered nonstop. About Garth’s guitar and headset microphone. His enormous hat. The long, upturned toes of his shiny boots.
“Hey, Sam? Why did Garth dress all in black?”
“Hmm. Maybe he’s trying to walk in Johnny Cash’s shoes.”
“Johnny Cash?”
Finn turned slightly. “Connor claims to have worked with Johnny years ago,” she explained to Ciara. “Apparently, he heard him tell a reporter that the black represented the poor and hopeless.”
“I heard something like that, too,” Sam said. “He wrote a song about it, one I’ve opened a couple of shows with.”
“Can you sing it now, Sam?” Ciara asked.
Chuckling, he shook his head. “Maybe next time I come over, I’ll bring my guitar. How’s that sound, cupcake?”
Ciara giggled. “Cupcake! Why did you call me that?”
In truth, he had no idea. The word slid past his lips as naturally as her name or Finn’s.
“Maybe,” he said slowly, “because you’re so sweet.”
As the headlights of cars heading north on Highway 155 lit the truck’s cab, he got a glimpse of Finn’s face. Man, she’s gorgeous when she smiles that way! It felt good, having a little something to do with her upbeat mood.
The closer they got to the apartment, the quieter Ciara became. He peered into the rearview mirror. “Fast asleep,” he whispered.
Finn nodded. “Exciting day.”
Moments later, when they pulled into The Right Note’s parking lot, she turned to wake her sister, but Sam stopped her.
“If you’ll get the door, I’ll carry her upstairs.”
The instant he lifted her from the backseat, Ciara wrapped her arms around his neck and, resting her head on his shoulder, exhaled a sleepy sigh. Sam didn’t understand why she and Finn had made such an impact on him. Had his cousin Nate felt similar twinges of envy when Zach announced his intentions toward Summer?
Finn led the way inside, flipping on lights and opening doors as she went.
“Just put her here,” she said, throwing back Ciara’s bedcovers. “Make yourself comfortable, and if Connor gets home while I’m helping her into her PJs, ask him to keep his voice down, will you?”
Sam settled Ciara onto her pillow, and after popping a tender kiss on her forehead, he tiptoed out of the room and eased the door shut behind him.
He wasn’t the least bit hungry, but when Sam spied a plate of chocolate-chip cookies on the kitchen counter, he grabbed one. Grabbed a glass from the drain board, too, and filled it with milk. He sat at the table and propped his sore leg on Connor’s chair. “Where are you tonight, Father of the Year?” he wondered aloud. Maybe he’d found a job. Sam hoped so, for Finn’s benefit as much as Connor’s. A working-full-time Connor would be good for Sam, too. From all he’d seen of the relationship, Finn would likely turn down his Thanksgiving invitation for no reason other than to keep Connor from getting involved.
How did the man live with himself, knowing his behavior was largely responsible for Ciara’s condition, and that by shirking his responsibilities, he’d transferred them onto Finn’s shoulders? Maybe he couldn’t, and that was why he’d made a habit of hiding at the bottom of a bottle.
Well, Sam was more than happy to help Finn in any way he could.
A crazy thought flitted through his mind: until she’d come into his life, he hadn’t given a whole lot of consideration to having kids of his own...but he sure was considering it now...
Finn breezed into the room and went straight to the refrigerator. Sometime between now and when he’d deposited Ciara on her bed, she’d kicked off her high-heeled sandals. Why hadn’t he noticed those bright pink toenails earlier? She stood, one perfectly shaped bare foot atop the other, inspecting the contents of the fridge.
“She’s out like a light,” Finn said, taking a seat across from him.
When they’d first met, Finn’s mop of dark waves barely covered her earlobes. Now they curled and curved along her jawline, like beckoning fingers that reminded him how soft her skin had felt against his palm that night...
“It’s late. I wonder where Connor is.”
“Y’got me by the feet. But I’m relieved to have a few minutes alone with you.”
The plastic bottle crackled as she unscrewed its cap. “Wondering what you’ll do to Andy if he doesn’t call Ciara, like he promised to?”
“Nah. He seemed like a good kid. He’ll call. Besides, I think he’s love struck.”
Finn laughed. “Please. They were together all of ten minutes, if that.”
In his opinion, her argument couldn’t hold water; he’d wanted to know her better the instant she’d blinked up at him from the mess on The Right Note floor.
“Besides, he can’t be more than seventeen, and Ciara will be twenty-three in a few weeks.”
Yeah, but thanks to the head injury, they were closer to the same age mentally.
“So what’s on your mind?”
Taking you in my arms and kissing the daylights out of you, that’s what.
As a qualified first responder, Sam knew that a normal heart rate was about one beat per second. Researchers hadn’t taken into account the effects a big-eyed brunette could have on a man’s ticker, though.
“How soon do you expect to hear from Ciara’s doctor?”
“Monday, probably, sooner if they find something serious.”
“Well, let’s hope you don’t hear till Monday, then.”
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Let’s hope.”
Not liking how burdened she looked, he decided to change tack. “So, Finn...about this trip to Colorado... I’m hoping you and Ciara will come with me. If it’s okay with Ciara’s doctor, that is. And if Rowdy’s available to run the diner for a few days.”
She propped one foot on the seat of her chair, and, chin resting on her knee, Finn grinned at him. “You’re just a little crazy, you know that?”
Crazy about you...
“I...have a confession to make.”
His mouth went dry.
“It isn’t easy for me to accept favors.” She held up a hand, traffic cop style. “It’s unfair and unreasonable, I know, but it’s just, I can’t always tell when there are strings attached.”
“Guess that lets me off the hook, then, because I haven’t given you anything.”
“Oh, but you have.” She ticked off everything he’d done, from rounding up help after the tree fell on the diner, to recommending contractors. The zoo. Tonight’s dinner and show. “You’ve been nothing but generous, especially with Ciara.”
Sam didn’t see it that way, mostly because everything he’d done had given him a legitimate excuse to spend more time with her.
“And I haven’t seen any evidence that you have ulterior motives.” Her cell phone rang, and before she picked up, Finn shot him a peculiar, borderline-stern look. “So far.”
So far? That stung, because he hadn’t given a thought to strings or repayment or whatever she wanted to call it.
Her life hadn’t been easy. He’d give her that. And considering who’d raised her, well, no wonder she had trouble putting her faith in people...men in particular. The way he saw it, he had two choices: admit that he’d never hurt her—and hope she’d believe it—or back off. Way off.
Finn lowered her voice. Got up and began pacing the kitchen. “I’m sorry, but I gave Connor my room, so that’s where I’m sleeping.”
It had to be her mother on the other end. First thing in the morning, Sam intended to call his folks, just to say hi. The more he learned about the Learys,
the more grateful he was to have them.
“Sorry,” Finn said again, free hand shading her eyes, “but he didn’t exactly leave me much choice.”
Couldn’t be easy, he thought, keeping a civil tongue with a woman like that. And he admired Finn all the more for working at it.
“Yes,” she said, “I can probably scrape up enough to reserve a room for you. For a couple of nights anyway.”
Finn talked about the test results that would, hopefully, pinpoint the cause of Ciara’s symptoms. Then, eyes closed, she tilted her face toward the ceiling, as if hoping to find a little extra patience up there somewhere.
“Yes, I do mind, Misty. I mind a lot, actually. Ciara isn’t in any condition for something like that.”
Sam heard it loud and clear: “Finnegan Ula Logan Leary, you are not her mother.”
Through clenched teeth, Finn shot back, “I’m more of a mother to her than you’ve ever been!”
She’d spent years parenting her parents. Was it any wonder that she had trust issues?
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE INSTANT THE words passed her lips, she regretted them.
Sam sat up taller in the chair, one corner of his mouth turned down, eyes sparking with questions. Once the call with Misty ended, he stayed just long enough to find out where Misty had been when she’d called, when she might show up, how long she’d stay. Finn’s vague, noncommittal answers only confused him more, but how could she explain things she didn’t understand herself?
His goodbye had been cool and clumsy, and who could blame him? Finn watched him go down the stairs and across the parking lot, waiting, hoping he’d turn around, so she could wave him back upstairs and apologize.
But he didn’t, and she couldn’t blame him for that, either. So she stood at the top of the stairs and watched him drive away. Only a crazy man would come back and expose himself to the Leary family circus. Her eyes welled with tears; she hoped Sam was just a little bit crazy.
“What are you doing up there, honey?”
She squinted into the darkness below. “Connor? What in the world?”
“Forgot my key,” he said, starting up the steps.
How many had he lost now? Five? Six? “I might just have to hang a bell around your neck.”
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He gave her a brief hello hug, then glanced at his watch. “Why are you out here all alone at this hour?”
Finn watched Sam’s taillights get swallowed up by the night. “Oh, just catching a breath of fresh air.”
He headed inside. “Did you girls have a good time tonight?”
She remembered the “overprotective dad” demeanor that had come over Sam when Ciara and Andy had walked off to watch the waterfall. How long since Connor had looked at her that way?
“It was a lovely evening.” Until you spoiled everything with that thoughtless so far crack.
“You okay?” he asked as she locked up.
No, she wasn’t. But admitting it would obliterate the last hint of her self-control.
“I’m going to make myself a cup of tea,” she said. “Would you like one, too?”
“It’s past midnight. Won’t the caffeine keep you awake?”
“It’s herbal. The wild-berry scent alone is calming.”
“Thank God for the guy who invented the microwave, eh?” He pulled out a kitchen chair. “So much faster than waiting for water to boil.”
Did he realize how much his simple observation revealed about his character? He’d taken the easy way in every important decision in his life. In her life and Ciara’s, too.
“Where were you tonight?” she asked.
“I watched TV for a while, read the paper, got bored and took a walk.” Hands folded on the table, he leaned forward and hung his head. “Almost gave in to the temptation to duck into a bar.”
“Almost?” She dropped a tea bag into each mug and carried them to the table.
His hands were shaking as he spooned sugar into his. “You girls saved me,” he said on a ragged sigh. “Thinking about you and Ciara and the promise I made helped me walk right on by. And you know? It was easier than I thought it’d be.”
He hadn’t shaved, and the shadowy stubble added to his haggard, troubled appearance.
“Did you eat anything today?”
“Just those pancakes you made for breakfast.”
Finn got up and rummaged in the fridge for lunch meat, cheese and mayo. “Chips on the side?” She popped two slices of bread into the toaster. “Or apple slices?”
When he didn’t respond, she faced him...
...and nearly dropped the mayo-loaded butter knife when she saw tears pooled in his dark eyes. He’d cried before—deep, grating sobs that prefaced promises to get clean and stay that way. Each time he fell off the wagon, her faith in him diminished a little more, until she had no faith in him at all. But there was something different about him now, something that gave her hope that maybe this time, she could trust him.
The toaster delivered two slices of golden bread in one metallic burst, and Finn went back to assembling the sandwich. She halved it from top to bottom because that was the way he preferred it. Peeled an apple and arranged the slices on the plate. Added a handful of barbecue-flavored chips...his favorite.
“How about some milk to wash that down?”
The clock above the stove ticked once, twice, three times before his eyes met hers. “Will you sit with me awhile?” Connor slid back the chair nearest hers. “Please?”
She wasn’t the least bit sleepy. “Sure. What’s up?”
He picked up half of the sandwich, put it down again and took her hands in his own.
“I know it sounds banal, because you’ve heard it all before, way too many times, but I’m really givin’ it the old college try. Staying sober, I mean.”
She’d heard that before, too.
“I don’t blame you for not believing it.” He inhaled and let the breath out slowly. “Heck. Even I don’t believe half the stuff I say.”
He turned her loose and bit into his sandwich. “That Sam... He seems like a decent sort.”
Finn sipped her tea. If there had been any possibility of taking things to the next level with Sam, she’d blown it tonight. “Do I detect reservation in your voice?”
“Quite the contrary, actually.” Connor popped an apple slice into his mouth, nodding thoughtfully as he crunched. Using another slice as a pointer, he said, “Gave it a lot of thought, walking around town tonight, and I’ve come to the conclusion that he’s just the kind of man you need in your life.”
Passing the buck already, are you, Dad? How long before she found one of his famous notes? Love you, but you know me and my itchy feet. If he bothered to write one at all.
“He’s a firefighter, so he’s gotta be brave, and from what I’ve seen, he’s smart. Even-tempered, too. Patient with Ciara and respectful of you.” He punctuated the list with a one-shouldered shrug.
“Sounds like you’re describing a family dog,” she said, smiling.
“A dog. There’s something else you girls never had, thanks to your mom and me.”
“Goes to show you how wrong a girl can be.”
“Mmm?”
“All these years, I thought you and Misty were just being kind, saying no to pets because it would have been cruel to drag them from one fleabag motel to another.”
“Sheesh.” Connor winced. “Give me a heads-up next time you release a roundhouse punch to the gut, will ya, so I can at least tense up.”
His reaction made her think of Sam’s, and Finn cringed. You’re two for two, she thought. And if you’re not careful, you’ll end up like Aggie Jackson—old, angry at the world...and alone. And she’d have no one to blame but herself.
And her parents.
>
“If you think that was harsh, you should hear some of the things I keep to myself.”
His wounded expression reminded her why she so seldom spoke her mind.
“Sorry,” she said. “That was uncalled-for.”
Connor harrumphed. “I had it coming.” He sipped his tea. “They say the truth hurts, and they’re right.” He polished off the chips. “So how do you feel about Handsome Sam?”
“I don’t know where to begin,” she said on a sigh.
“You like him, right?”
“Yes,” she replied without even thinking.
“But...”
“But I haven’t known him very long. All the good stuff could be a facade. I can’t take that chance. I have Ciara to think about.”
“Your mistrust, that’s on Misty and me. It wasn’t right, passing our responsibility for your sister to you.” He slid the nearly empty plate to the center of the table. “Especially since it’s our fault she can’t take care of herself.”
The fact that he hadn’t been solely responsible for the accident had helped her tolerate her parents’ brief, impromptu appearances. Yes, they’d been drunk that night, but if she hadn’t distracted Connor...
“You’d probably be happily married with a house full of kids if your mother and I had been better parents.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure about that.” She’d just dealt him a low blow. In the interest of fairness, she said, “I’m not a very nice person.”
Connor laughed. “That’s nonsense. Everybody loves you.” He recited a list: Rowdy and the rest of The Right Note staff, her regular customers, even a few tourists who returned to the diner every time they came to town because she’d made them feel welcome. Ciara’s doctors and nurses, who took such good care of her because Finn held their feet to the fire.
“And then there’s Sam. The man is crazy about you.”
You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen his quick getaway tonight.
“And you’re crazy about him, too.”
Connor hadn’t been there to meet the boy who’d taken her to the homecoming dance, or to comfort her when the mean girls had laughed at her pathetic attempt to make her own prom dress. Where had he been when she’d cried herself to sleep every night for weeks, after Vince Williams had revoked his marriage proposal to tour with up-and-coming country star Millie Sanders?
