Once again, she thought of how different Kevin had seemed to her lately. She pressed a hand to her stomach. A tremor of guilt and fear had begun to plague her ever since Tanner had insisted on involving himself in her troubles. The tremor flared up again now, joining the pains in her head and her ankle.
Hadn’t she been a good mother? Taught her son all the lessons he should know? Right from wrong? Good from bad? Truth from lies?
Yet today’s evidence surely showed to the contrary. Had she failed at raising Kevin herself?
Should she have let Tanner know she’d gotten pregnant?
Across from her, he rose abruptly.
Panicked, she cringed away from him, afraid he had somehow read her mind. Found out her secret. Learned she had built her entire life—her son’s entire life—on a lie.
Chapter Six
Afraid of what she might blurt out, Sarah clamped her mouth shut and waited.
“Looks like we’re finished here.” Tanner’s tone sounded as flat as the clipboard he dropped onto the desk. He paused, but she said nothing. The silence stretched out between them until, finally, he added, “See you around.”
She nodded and watched as he strode from the office.
The minute he left her sight, she slumped back against the rocker. He was up to something, she could tell. She didn’t know what he intended, but the certainty came strongly enough to revive those tremors of guilt and fear inside her.
How had it come to this, when she and Tanner had once meant so much to each other?
They had remained best friends all through grade school and beyond. And in junior year of high school, they’d moved their relationship to another level.
Somehow, all her life, she had known it would happen. She had always dreamed of the day she would get her diploma because then, very soon after, she would become Mrs. Tanner Jones.
An old-fashioned dream for that time, when most women wanted to be free. Sarah had felt no differently—she wanted her independence and intended to have it. But she wanted Tanner, too. No reason a marriage license had to keep her from standing on her own.
They had talked about getting married someday. Made plans. Made promises.
Then everything had changed.
Tanner leaving her for the army, Daddy dying. The overwhelming responsibility of running the bookstore alone.
Too much to handle. Too short a time.
She’d needed Tanner desperately then. But his own departure had already made it all too clear he didn’t need or want her.
She suffered through all the rituals of the funeral without Tanner.
The next morning, Daddy’s distant cousin, and now her only relative, had taken her aside. “Sarah,” she had said, “you’ll come home with us.”
She couldn’t live in the house without Daddy there, couldn’t stay in Dillon without Tanner. Couldn’t face having someone else leave her.
So she’d closed up the bookstore and moved to California.
And then, just a few weeks later, she’d discovered she was pregnant….
Blindly, Sarah reached for the clipboard Tanner had dropped on the desk and clutched it against her as though it could shield her from the past, could save her from any more pain.
She had come so close to letting her cousin’s family make decisions for her, the way Tanner tried to do. Tanner, who’d walked out on her once before and would again, as soon as they cleared up the troubles in Dillon.
If she’d kept secrets in her life, she’d had good reason for it. If she kept silent with him now, he deserved not to know.
He’d broken her heart once, long ago; she’d have to see to it he never had the chance to hurt her again.
Her, or her son.
EARLY THE NEXT morning, Sarah sat Kevin down with his homework at the kitchen table.
Restless and unhappy, he whined to her. And she bit her tongue.
The conversation with Tanner the day before had left her as unsettled during the night as her son seemed now. She’d twisted the sheet into knots trying to get comfortable, then given up and dragged herself from the bed long before her alarm rang.
“Why do I gotta do school stuff on Saturday?”
“It’s not gotta, Kevin, it’s have to. And that’s exactly the reason for it. Because you have to.” She rested a hand on his shoulder until he dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “When Mr. Porter pulled you from class, you missed out on your spelling lesson. And you promised him you’d make it up. Remember?”
“Yeah.” He heaved a huge sigh.
“You’re not going anywhere this weekend, anyway. You might as well get your work done.” She waited until he lifted his pencil before moving away.
A few minutes later, carrying a platter of warm pecan loaf and a bag of freshly ground coffee, she made her way down to the bookstore office.
Awake so early that morning, she had plenty of time to clear off the filing cabinet for the large coffeemaker. Now she started it brewing. As the scent of coffee mingled with the aroma of pecan loaf, she breathed deeply and crossed her fingers.
Time to put her idea into motion. Tanner’s idea—though she’d never tell him so. Yet another secret. Cringing, she pushed the thought away and focused on her plan.
A sidewalk café. Pecan loaf and coffee for sale. The pecan loaf wasn’t cheap to make, and most folks didn’t attempt the recipe, knowing she’d bring it along to any town meeting. Maybe, if she didn’t always provide it, they would pay for a slice or two. She prayed for that, anyway. Her scheme to make extra money had to work out—it just had to.
Out in the bookstore, she opened the front door wide, then turned to the furniture she had lined up after she’d closed for business the night before. Two metal ice-cream parlor castoffs, round tabletops with curlicued iron legs. And a handful of mismatched chairs in wood, wicker and metal. Good thing she’d never gotten rid of the collection Daddy had planned to refinish someday.
Now, worst things first, as he had taught her.
The tables. Small they might be, but the heavy cast iron weighed a ton. She managed to get one halfway outside before the top wedged in the doorway. Her puff of irritation ruffled the curls near her forehead.
Moving backward again, she set the table down and reconsidered. Turn it sideways, angle it enough to get two legs out first, and then—
“Need a hand with that?”
This time, she didn’t shriek at the unexpected voice, the way she had the afternoon before.
She looked up, the word No on the tip of her tongue, then frowned and held up her hand to block the early-morning sunlight.
The dark-haired, well-built man standing on the top step wasn’t Tanner. And he didn’t wait for her to answer. He came down to lift one end of the table, taking most of the weight from her as they maneuvered through the doorway and up the steps.
“Where do you want this thing?”
“Just over here on the sidewalk, thanks. I’ve got another table and a few chairs to put alongside it.”
When they had set their burden in place, she turned to him and smiled. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. You visiting folks in Dillon?”
He clasped his hands against his chest and pretended to stagger. “Sarah, you just broke my heart.”
She stared. “Do I know you?”
“You used to. But it’s been a while since you whined for me to pull you around in your little red wagon.”
“My little—?” Her mouth dropped open. She shut it and peered at him, shaking her head in amazement. “It can’t be. Logan? Logan Kincaid?”
“One and the same.” He made a sweeping bow, and she grinned. He always had acted the clown.
“Who would believe it, after all these years? You’ve been gone since I was what, twelve or thirteen?”
“Just about.”
“That was long after I got too big to ride in that wagon. And by the way, I did not whine at you. I never whined.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.”
She laughed. “Well, what’s brought you home again?”
A shadow seemed to darken his eyes. Maybe she oughtn’t to have used the word home, when Logan had left Dillon so long ago—and, as she belatedly recalled, hadn’t had such a good time of it while he lived here.
He gestured to the table. “I’ll tell you the long, sad story, but let’s get you set up first.”
“You don’t have to—”
“My pleasure. I could use the exercise. Physical labor’s not much on my agenda these days.”
They spent the next few minutes bringing up the other table and the mismatched collection of chairs. Logan took a seat and watched her shake open a plaid tablecloth.
“What’s with all the furniture rearranging?”
“I’m setting up shop—outside the shop.” She smiled. “I’m planning to sell coffee and pecan loaf to anyone who happens by.”
He raised his hands palm up. “I’ve happened. Make it a double order and share it with me.”
“That’s a fine idea.”
Footsteps pounded against the slate steps. She turned to see Kevin peering at her from beneath the brim of a Houston Astros cap. His eyes sparkled in that innocent look she knew so well. And knew she couldn’t trust.
Over one shoulder, he balanced a wooden stick with a worn-out baseball mitt dangling from it. In the other hand, he held an old softball, mud-encrusted and sporting a split seam.
“Can I play outside now, Mom?”
He gave her his widest grin, showing the gap where he’d lost a baby tooth. Her heart lurched just a bit. How could he have changed so rapidly from her baby into Sam Porter’s sticky-fingered school vandal?
She swallowed hard and gestured him over to her. “Come here, Kevin. I want you to meet an old friend of mine. Mr. Kincaid and I grew up together here in Dillon.”
Logan offered his hand. “Hey, Kevin.”
“Howdy.”
Now he looked like a little man, shoving the softball into the crook of his arm to shake hands. Her heart lurched a bit more.
He turned quickly to her again. “Can I stay outside?”
“Did you finish your spelling words?”
“Uh-huh. They’re on the table.”
She struggled to find the right way to handle this.
Normally, with him home on a Saturday, she was just down below in the bookstore, only a shout away. But with setting up the tables outside and sitting with Logan, this wasn’t a normal day. She had said she might let him out in the yard for fresh air. And, after all, she could keep a much closer eye on him that way.
“All right,” she said finally. “But only if you promise not to go outside the fence.”
“Promise.” He grinned again and jogged around the front of the bookstore to the side gate.
Sarah looked after him for a minute. What could she do to help him stay that carefree, fun-loving child? With a sigh, she turned back to find Logan smiling broadly at her.
“I see some things never change. You and Tanner, still a team after all these years.”
The blood drained from her face, her neck and her body, until she could imagine it puddling somewhere down around her toes. If only she could melt into a puddle, too, and trickle along the sidewalk, slither into the grass, sink into the soil.
“No. Things didn’t work out. Not at all.” She gulped. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”
She fled, knowing but too mortified to care that a dismayed Logan stared after her.
SARAH PUT HER tea mug on the table.
Across from her, Logan chewed, swallowed, made appreciative noises and then sat back in obvious contentment. He stretched his boots out in front of him and cradled his coffee cup in both hands. “Best meal I’ve had in a week or more.”
“That doesn’t sound good. And you can hardly call this a meal. You’ll have to stop in to Delia’s while you’re here.”
“I missed this week’s barbecue, didn’t I?”
She nodded. “Still Thursdays.”
“Might have to stick around for that. I’ll tell you, Sarah, if Delia would only bottle the stuff, she’d make a bundle.”
Logan told her he and his folks had moved to Dallas, where he’d finished high school, gone to college and started a career in business management. “I still live outside Dallas, but my business takes me all over. I’d lined up appointments with some contacts nearby, and getting this close to Dillon suddenly set off an urge to see the old hometown again.”
His downcast eyes and drawn mouth gave her the feeling he didn’t find this a pleasure trip.
After her time away, she had returned because she loved the town itself, couldn’t wait to get back to her beloved bookstore, and, husband or no, wanted to live with her baby in Dillon.
Yet she wondered once again why Logan had come back. He had no family left in town and hadn’t mentioned wanting to visit with anyone in particular.
“What do you think of Dillon?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not a lot, Sarah. It’s gone to seed in a relatively short time.”
“I know.” She sighed.
“There’s talk of rerouting the county road through town.”
She couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “They’ve talked about that for years now.”
“It would be a help.”
“Of course, it would. But no sense wishing for things that will never happen.” Good advice. She should listen to it. “Well.” She tried to smile. “Now that you’ve stopped by, are you planning to stay in the neighborhood for a bit?”
“I’ve still got business in the area. If I can find a room somewhere, I might put up here for a few days.”
“At least till barbecue night?”
“That’s a thought.” He grinned. “I could go out and see Gabe Miller, too.”
“You may be out of luck there. The last time he stopped by the store, he was heading out west for a rodeo.”
“Still running to the rodeos, huh? I thought he’d settled down.”
“Not Gabe. He swears he’ll never get married. You could check with his ranch hands, though, to see if he’s back in town,” she added.
From behind her, Sarah heard the sound of a car approaching from the other end of Main Street, the tires loud in the quiet morning. Drat, she’d never gotten around to hanging the poster she’d made advertising the café. Maybe the person was coming down this way to the bookstore, anyhow.
She turned eagerly to look over her shoulder. This time, she couldn’t hold back a groan.
A black pickup with an all-too-familiar driver coasted toward them, eased to the curb and pulled to a stop.
“Not again,” she muttered. “These visits ought to be against the law.”
Chapter Seven
Unable to stop herself, Sarah stared as Tanner climbed out of the front seat of the pickup truck, all legs and hips and tanned, muscled skin in washed-out jeans and a tight hunter-green T-shirt. He stood spread-legged in front of them, his thumbs hooked in his belt loops.
Probably felt underdressed without his gunbelt and badge.
But, oh, the man looked good! And, out of uniform, threatening in a whole new way.
“Morning, folks,” he said.
“Morning,” Logan returned.
She noticed Logan’s eyebrows had dipped into a slight frown. He stared from Tanner to her and back again.
She couldn’t blame his confusion and had to force a smile. “Logan, this is Tanner Jones. Tanner, you remember Logan Kincaid, don’t you?”
“Sure. Been a while.”
The two men shook hands, then Tanner took a seat beside their table and tossed his Stetson onto another chair. She knew his sharp eyes hadn’t missed the half-empty cups or the plate with its remaining slice of pecan loaf.
She perched on the edge of the seat and struggled with her conscience. Politeness dictated she offer him something—but, no, this was a business now, not a tea party. Neither guilt nor good manners would pay the electric bill.
While the two men sat back catching up on old times, she struggled with her conscience for other reasons now, chief among them the desire to sit and stare openly at Tanner. To drink him in, much as she had that tasty cup of tea. To enjoy the sight of him in repose, with his strong fingers linked loosely together and his muscled forearms planted on his sturdy thighs. Everything about him looked strong, solid, ready to do battle for whatever he wanted in life.
If only he’d wanted her.
The thought pained her, and still she couldn’t keep her gaze from traveling slowly upward.
He wore his hair shorter now, clipped in a military style.
His face had changed, too, had gotten slimmer and harder, revealing the chiseled bone structure beneath. Fine lines radiated from the corners of his eyes, and a frown wrinkled the skin between them. Only the mouth remained the same, wide and firm and full.
Just looking at him made her mouth water.
Dismayed, she realized some small part of her, deep in her heart—no, not her heart, never that, but some small part deep inside her still felt…something.
It wasn’t the first time she’d noticed it, though she’d done her best to deny the feelings. Even last night in her office, when she’d tripped over the rocker and landed in his arms—
No, don’t think about that. Don’t recall the conversation. And, most important of all, don’t let him get close enough to find out things he shouldn’t know.
Already, he seemed very well informed about her. Too informed. Of course, he would have talked with Doc and Mrs. Gannett and Delia and anyone else he’d come across since arriving back in town. And with his way of asking questions until he got answers, he would have learned all there was to know.
All she had let anyone know, anyhow.
Again, the thought crossed her mind that Mrs. Gannett might suspect the truth.
“That okay with you, Sarah?”
With a start, she heard Logan’s voice, his tone telling her he’d spoken more than once. Both men sat looking at her.
“Uh…sorry.” She smoothed her skirt. “Guess you caught me napping. What did you say?”
“I’m going to go check out your stock in the bookstore.”
The Sheriff's Son Page 6
