by JoAnn Durgin
The tiniest hint of a grin teased the corners of his lips. “Is that your way of saying you waited for me to come home?”
“Not at all.” She dipped her head to hide her smile.
Disengaging his hand from hers, Sam splashed her lower legs as she dangled them in the water. She splashed him back.
“Enough serious talk.” Jumping to his feet, Sam tugged his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on top of his tennis shoes. Before she could recover from the sight of seeing him shirtless, Sarah gasped as he tugged on her arm and jumped into the water, pulling her in with him. She fell against his strong, firm chest, and cold water rushed over her, enveloping her from all sides.
“Oh! You stinker!” She feigned offense, but she knew Sam wasn’t buying the act for a single second. Struggling out of his arms, Sarah splashed him full in the face.
Sam laughed and used his palms to smooth his hair back from his face, an action that highlighted the strong, distinctive planes and those great cheekbones. “I guess I deserved that.”
“You sure did.” The water was even colder near the bottom of the creek bank, and she bobbed up and down, shifting from foot to foot beneath the water. Shivering, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “It’s almost summer. Why is it so cold in here?”
“That’s why I like it. Wakes you up, and it’s refreshing. There’s only one way to get rid of the shivers. Come on.” Grabbing her by the hand, Sam pulled her farther into the water. “Full immersion.”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” When she tugged on his hand, he surprisingly released her without a fight. “Tell me something else, Hero.”
His eyes sparkled. “Ask away, Tomboy.”
“I’m no longer a tomboy, remember?”
“And I’m not really a hero unless the act of coming home qualifies me for that distinction. Air Force guys are called by any number of nicknames, and the ones that aren’t completely derogatory are things like propeller heads, prop tops, wing nuts, fly boys, zoomies.” He raised his hands. “How about it? Any one of those strike your fancy?”
“I still think Hero qualifies by virtue of your willingness to serve your country overseas, but fine. I’ll call you Captain, then, since you earned that title legitimately. Better?” Without waiting for Sam’s answer, she kept going. “Tell me something, Captain. Is it true you were caught skinny dipping in this very creek once upon a time?”
“Guilty as charged.” Sam laughed and raised his face to the sky. A moment later, he lowered his head and leveled that blue-eyed gaze on her. “For the record, I wasn’t in mixed company. It was me and a few guys trying to cool off on a hot summer night. Playing around and acting stupid. Lest you think the worst of me.”
“I didn’t ask who kept you company.” She gave him an impish grin and her pulse skipped a few beats when his smile widened.
Slowly moving backward—still facing her—Sam waded into the middle of the creek. “Sarah Jordan, are you asking me to skinny dip?” The evidence of his intense physical training for the Air Force—the strength of those broad shoulders, the trim waist, rock-hard chest, the well-developed muscles—was in full view. Oh, it was glorious.
“Never.” The cold water felt good since she was feeling a bit heated now.
“I’m surprised you don’t wear a swimsuit when it’s this hot outside. Don’t you swim?”
She could feel her cheeks flooding with warmth. “I normally do, yes.”
“Fully clothed?”
Sarah snapped her gaze to his. “Since you’ve been coming here lately, I didn’t want you to. . .” She huffed. “I didn’t want you to see. . .” She raised her hands in the air. “None of your business.”
“You’re beautiful, Sarah.” The admiration in his eyes stole her breath.
Oh, Lord, what am I supposed to do with that statement? Her cheeks grew even warmer.
Knowing Sam, it probably didn’t enter his mind that she might consider him physically distracting to the point where she found it difficult to tear her gaze away from him. Jumping on him from behind might not be the best idea either. Riding piggyback as he waded through the rushing waters of the creek wouldn’t be good as much as she’d love to do that very thing. No, that would be much too close, too intimate.
She wanted to have fun with him at the creek, just as she always had, but any physical contact left her wanting more. Sam was just being himself. Considerate. Kind. Nice. But she wasn’t ten anymore, and he wasn’t sixteen.
Needing a distraction, Sarah prepared to dive. “Let’s swim.”
“Race you to the rocks.” With sure strokes, Sam splashed water in her face as he passed her. Although he’d allowed her to win their little footrace before, this time he seemed intent on being victorious. Fine, she’d give this one to him. Adopting a slower pace, she followed behind him, content to let him forge ahead.
Later, they rested once again on the bank of the creek, basking in the warmth of the early evening. A gentle breeze stirred the trees and she trained her gaze straight ahead. She’d teased Sam and they’d played around in the water, but she’d been careful to keep her distance. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d done the same. Good, although her traitorous feelings threatened to betray her when he’d grabbed her around the waist at one point. She’d moved her hands around his neck and they’d stared at one another for a few seconds before he’d gently lowered her back into the water.
She couldn’t shake his words from her mind.
You’re beautiful, Sarah.
He’d never said those words to her before. Sure, he’d told her she’d grown up. Told her he thought she’d been cute as a kid. She’d glimpsed admiration in his eyes. He’d praised her, complimented her. Laughed at her bad jokes. Teased her like she imagined he’d teased his kid sister.
No, Sarah, he doesn’t treat you the same as a kid sister.
As it was, she was self-conscious enough in her thin shorts and with her cotton top clinging to her. In some ways, she felt exposed although she was modestly covered in something more than a one-piece swimsuit. Besides, she needn’t worry about Sam. He was a gentleman. Then why did she suddenly want him to treat her as more than a younger friend?
Be honest, Sarah. You want Sam to notice you as a woman. Not flat-as-a-board, ten-year-old Sarah. The twenty-one-year old Sarah with curves and perhaps a tiny ounce of that sex appeal everyone else seemed to talk about incessantly.
Forgive me, Lord, if these are sinful thoughts.
Seeing that Sam’s eyes were closed, she studied him. Smooth, tanned skin, sculpted high cheekbones. Classically handsome features. What would it be like to feel Sam’s lips on hers? She’d only kissed one boy—Kenny Meyers after senior prom—and wished she hadn’t. Not that it was bad, but there wasn’t even the tiniest spark of that elusive thing called passion.
Moving her gaze away from Sam, Sarah lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. More than any man she’d ever met, Sam made her believe passion could exist. The way she felt in this moment, she figured it was fairly close to that type of passion. Am I crazy?
“Martin Benson came into the bank the other day,” Sam said a minute later, breaking into her reverie.
Sarah propped herself on her elbows and glanced over at him. “How’s he doing? I guess it’s been well over a year now since Marty died.”
“As well as can be expected, I suppose. When I was talking with him, it was one of those times when I wish I could have traded places with Marty.”
Sarah frowned. “I really wish you’d stop saying things like that.”
“Like what?”
“How you wish you’d died in someone else’s place. People die all the time, Sam. Accept it and get over it.”
“Well, that’s blunt.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe so, but it’s the truth. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m sorry about your sister’s death, but you seem to have some kind of misplaced martyr complex. It makes me worry about you, if you want the truth.”
&n
bsp; “Oh? How’s that?” His frown deepened. “And this isn’t about Rachel. I’ve accepted that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t get sad and miss her sometimes.”
“That’s only human. Of course, you miss her. I miss my grandparents now that they’re gone, too.” She paused, wishing she hadn’t made it sound like a personal attack. “I’m talking about what you said about wishing you could take Marty’s place. That’s like saying you wish God would take you in their place and bring them back. Wish all you want, but that’s never going to happen.”
“You got all that from what I said?” After staring at her for a few seconds, Sam turned toward her, elbows on his raised knees, those incredible blue eyes boring into her. Gone was the fun, carefree mood of a short time ago.
A warm breeze ruffled her hair, blowing damp strands across her face. She pushed them aside with a sigh of impatience. “Well, for one thing, if you go back for another term of service, tour of duty or whatever it’s called, I’d be afraid you might do something. . .ill-advised.” A nice way of saying stupid, but surely the man understood her implied meaning. Sam wasn’t stupid, by any means.
“It’s not like I’d volunteer for a suicide mission, Sarah. Give me some credit.” Now he sounded peeved. Honestly, she couldn’t blame him.
“There is a strong likelihood you’ll be called for another term, right, especially if any one of these conflicts escalates?”
Something indefinable flickered in Sam’s gaze as he faced the creek and then closed his eyes. “No.” A simple word, but spoken so quietly and with such a measure of regret, Sarah recognized she’d touched a raw nerve again. When she said nothing further, Sam opened his eyes and turned his head to looked at her again. “Go ahead. You can ask me if you want.”
“Not if it’s hurtful.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not going back. I was discharged. Honorably, in case you’re wondering.”
“I’d never have doubted that for a second.”
“Number one, I’m getting older as we speak.”
“Since when is twenty—”
“Sarah, for once in your life, please listen for a minute and let me speak. Hear me out on this.”
Sufficiently chastised, she nodded and gestured for Sam to continue.
“I started suffering from vertigo in the last year. I’d get dizzy and sick because of sudden pressure in my ear and temporary hearing loss.” Sam exhaled a prolonged sigh. “By the grace of God, I was able to finish all my missions without mishap or incident. Always with an air sickness bag nearby. Trust me, vertigo’s not a good thing when you’re piloting a plane.”
“May I speak?”
His lips lifted slightly. “Go ahead.”
“I’m thankful it didn’t negatively impede any of your missions.”
“Thanks. The thing is, if it hadn’t happened, I would still be over there, serving until ordered to come home. I was prescribed medication, but I didn’t want to take the chance something might happen. The doctors ran a litany of tests: hearing, balance, medical history interview, physical examination. They finally diagnosed Ménière’s Disease.” Sam motioned to his left ear and his shoulders slumped. “It’s a disorder of the inner ear, sensory in my case. I haven’t told anyone else besides my parents. Not even Charlie.”
In his tone, Sarah heard resignation, and she couldn’t believe it. “Wait just a red-hot minute. Don’t even tell me you feel like a failure in some way, Sam Lewis. Because if you do, then that’s just plain wrong.”
The muscles in his jaws flexed. “How can I not feel like I’ve let down the Air Force, my country, my parents, the people in Rockbridge? The entire time of the homecoming hoopla—while everyone was cheering for me—I felt like a fraud.” His voice had become raspy.
“How can you even say that?” Sarah inhaled a quick breath, tamping down her sudden rise of anger.
“You know, would it hurt to get a little sympathy instead of you lashing out at me? Forgive me for thinking I might get a little compassion by sharing something so personal with you.” Sam rose to his feet. Grabbing his T-shirt from the ground, he tugged it down over his head and then shoved his feet into his tennis shoes. With a grunt of exasperation, he dropped to one knee to tie the laces.
Sarah jumped up, standing over him. “If you want a pity party, Captain, you can apparently do that perfectly well all by yourself without any help from me. Furthermore, if you think anyone in this town would think any less of you because of what happened, then you’re not giving them enough credit. The most important thing? War or no war, you were willing to serve your country—willing to die for your country—and you came home in one piece. And for that, my friend, we’re all thankful.”
Especially me.
Overwhelmed with a rush of emotion, Sarah gulped and tried to catch her breath. Tears slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them. To her chagrin, they plopped on Sam’s hand as he finished looping the laces of the second shoe. Good heavens. She couldn’t even cry daintily. What a mess she was.
Sam slowly rose to his feet. “That’s just it, Sarah.” His irritation of a moment ago seemed to have dissipated. Using the pads of his thumbs, he swept them over her cheeks as he cradled her face with a light, gentle hold. “In some ways, I don’t feel like I’m intact. I left part of my pride over there, part of my honor. Those things are every bit as important as an arm or a leg. And even though I received an honorable discharge, and served out my time in the Air Force, I still feel like I somehow failed.”
Wiping away another tear, she lifted her gaze to his and glimpsed such profound sadness that it stole her breath. “You didn’t fail in any sense of the word, and not to disregard your feelings, but you might have lost a few brain cells somewhere along the way.” She regretted those words the second they escaped.
Sam didn’t flinch although he released his hold on her and moved his hands down to his hips.
“Do you need some kind of medal to prove your worth?” she said. “Matter of fact, you’re plenty decorated. I’ve seen the badges, pins and patches all over your uniform, Sam. If you’d lost a limb or even your life, would that somehow prove your service counted more?”
Sarah lowered her gaze and shook her head, trying but failing to comprehend his reasoning. “I’m sure you know the scripture verses about pride as well as I do. If anything, your willingness to fight for your country means you’re much more of a man. At least to me, if that counts for anything. You just said that if you hadn’t been diagnosed with”—she waved her hand—“that disease, you’d still be over there today. I can’t begin to understand why you’d feel this way, but I guess there’s nothing else I can say. Except that,” she sputtered, swallowing hard, “God’s not done with you yet, Captain. He brought you back home safely, and I know in my heart He’s got something very special planned for you.”
She turned to go.
“Are you done?”
When she faced him again, they stared at one another for a long moment. Blinking hard, she nodded. “Yes, I think so.” She lowered her gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry about my little rant. I hope you can forgive me.” With a shrug of her shoulders, she tried to smile. “You know me. I get passionate about something, and I can’t seem to help myself. Rest assured, God’s working on me.”
Stepping forward, Sam moved his strong arms around her, pulled her close and leaned his head against hers. “Your feelings count for a lot, Sarah. Thank you.” His lips were warm against her hair. In his arms, she felt comforted, protected, and she never wanted to leave.
“It’s nice to know someone other than my parents believes in me,” he whispered. “I wasn’t just representing my country over there or trying to prove the United States is superior to any other nation. More than anything else, I was there for my family. My neighbors. My town. For the people that I love most in the world.”
“Sam.” Her voice was muffled against him. “You’re crushing me. You didn’t lose any strength in your arms, that’s for sure.”
She felt a quiet, deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’re good for me and won’t let me get away with much, will you?”
“Not if I can help it. I need to get home, and you”—she patted his chest and stepped back again—“seriously need to get over yourself. You coming?”
“I think I’ll stay here a while longer. Do some thinking.”
“Promise me no pity parties, and please don’t think too hard. You might strain something important.”
“Sarah?” he called to her when she was about fifty yards away.
This was getting to be a nice habit. She glanced at him over one shoulder. “Yes, Captain?”
“Thank you. And I’ve changed my mind. I’m coming with you.”
“For protection?”
“You got it. For my own as much as yours.”
She nodded and turned, waving one hand over her head. “Fine. Stop dawdling then.”
“Coming.” He was beside her within seconds.
Lord, he’s all yours. Please give him your peace.
Chapter 13
~~♥~~
The Next Afternoon
“Do you need help finding anything, dear?”
Engrossed in her search, Sarah shook her head. “No. Thanks all the same, Betty. I’m sure I’ll find what I need. Just doing a little research.” She returned her attention to the row of books. Maybe if she didn’t encourage conversation, Mom’s librarian friend would move on to another patron. It wasn’t like she was a stranger in the library and didn’t know how or where to search. Many in town joked that the library was Sarah’s second home and that they’d set up a permanent cot for her in the staff lounge.
“Did you enjoy To Kill A Mockingbird?”
Sarah turned back to where Betty stood behind her. “Yes, I loved it. It’s a powerful book and makes me think. That’s the best kind of book, wouldn’t you agree?”
