by James, Sandy
“You’re a very pretty girl, Libby.” Sarah entered the tiny cubicle and pulled the curtain closed.
Libby snorted a disbelieving laugh then continued the discussion while Sarah tried on a pair of jeans with embroidery up the right leg and across the butt. “I remember knowing Mom would take care of things. Even little things. She cut the crusts off my peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because she knew I hated ‘em. She baked cupcakes for me to take to Sunday School every year on my birthday. And she always planted pretty flowers outside the house in the spring.”
Pulling the curtain aside, Sarah came out to show Libby the jeans. “What do you think?”
Libby gave her a long look then smiled. “Sweet. We need to find you a red shirt to go with the embroidery. God, I wish I was as skinny as you.”
“No, you don’t. You’re perfect just the way you are.” A derisive laugh was Libby’s response. Remembering how insecure she’d been at thirteen, Sarah decided it was better to switch topics. “So do you still plant flowers?”
“Hmm?” Libby hummed over her shoulder as she headed back to the shirt racks.
Sarah followed. “Do you still plant flowers like your mom did? I figured you would so you could remember her, sort of keep her tradition.”
“I wanted to, but Pop wouldn’t let me.” Libby pulled out a couple of red shirts and handed them to Sarah. “I went and got some marigolds—they were Mom’s favorite. But when Pop saw them sitting there in those little green trays, he got upset. Said they made him think too much of Mom. When I went to plant them later, they were gone.” She paused, a sad expression coloring her face. “That’s why I wanted to plant them around the porch. To think about Mom. I wanna put some by her grave, too.”
It took all of Sarah’s self-control not to reach out and gather Libby into her arms. If only she could heal that type of pain. “When did she die?”
“Fourteen months ago. She’d only been sick for about six months. She didn’t get to see me get my diploma.” A few awkward moments passed in silence before Libby held up a white cotton shirt. “What do you think of this? It’s not red, but it’s pretty.”
With a nod, Sarah took the shirt. It was taking every ounce of her strength not to weep for Libby—and for Josh. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and decided since she couldn’t change the past, she would do her best to help their present. “You know, I can help you plant some flowers when we get back.”
Libby stopped and gaped at Sarah. “Do you think we could? Do you think Pop will let me?”
The Baxters always threw away anything Sarah had left at Charlie’s grave, and it had hurt more than she’d realized until right now. Libby didn’t deserve to feel like that. Josh was a good man. Surely he’d understand. But even if he didn’t, Libby deserved to honor Miranda as she wished. “She’s your mother, Miss Elizabeth. If you want flowers for her, you should have them. Your father will understand. I know. We can get a shepherd’s hook and hang some potted marigolds by her headstone. I’ll help you when we get back. I’ve got a green thumb.”
“You do?”
“Yep. Back home I’ve got a sunroom full of flowers. And don’t worry. I’ll make it right with your dad.”
“Really?” Libby’s hopeful eyes met Sarah’s. “You think he’d let me? I’d love to see some flowers there. The stone’s pretty, but... It looks so...so...sad there by itself.”
“We’ll fix that.” Flipping through the hangers, Sarah found a shirt in a pretty pastel pink she realized would compliment Libby’s coloring. Pulling it off the rack, she held it up. “What do you think?”
Libby stared at it for a second. “It’s pretty, but it’s pink. Might make you look a little washed out. I’d go for something brighter.”
“Not for me. For you.”
Giving herself a quick appraisal, Libby looked back at Sarah. “The black’s a little much, isn’t it?”
“Not if you like it.”
“I used to. Now, it’s just kind of a...habit. I wanted everyone to see how sad I was on the inside, so I wore black on the outside.”
“When Charlie died...” Sarah sighed and plowed right on through the awful memories. “When I lost my best friend, I felt the same way. I hurt so much, I wanted everyone to know it. I dressed in my crappiest clothes. At least I did when I got out of bed. I did nothing but cry for weeks.”
Libby came to stand by Sarah’s side. She ran her fingers over the pink shirt. “Me too. How did you make yourself stop crying?”
I got struck by lightning. Sarah tried not to remember what had driven her to the top floor of that stupid parking garage. The memories hurt almost too much to bear, but Libby needed her honesty. Sarah chose her words carefully. “I made a decision to change my life, and I followed it.”
Libby nodded. “Me too. I realized Pop needed me. So I cried for awhile, then I threw on my black clothes and tried to get Pop to write again.” She took the shirt from Sarah and headed toward the dressing room. Stopping at the entrance to the cubicle Sarah had been using, Libby turned and stared at Sarah. “You’re good for him.”
Sarah arched an eyebrow. “For your dad?”
Libby nodded. “Oh, yeah. He’s smiling again. He’s writing again.”
“He’s writing?” Had Joshua gone ahead with the story about her? Had he brought her here for more investigation? God, she hated thinking of Josh as that predatory. It seemed against his nature. But reporters were in general no better than stalkers.
“Yeah.” Libby started tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. “I hope he’s not mad at me. I didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what, sweetie?”
“Didn’t know how he really felt about you. That he believed you.”
That didn’t make any sense. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Libby.”
The teen shook her head. “Never mind. Maybe...maybe it’ll just blow over.” She stepped into the dressing room and closed the curtain.
* * * *
Josh checked his watch for the sixth time. Sarah and Libby weren’t that late. He worried nonetheless.
When he sent them off to shop, he’d forgotten that Sarah might have started worrying about her potential clients again. She might have called Hannah. She might have arranged to get a ride out of River Bend to the Kalispell Airport. Shit. What if she was already on a flight home? He’d given her his gold card after all.
You can’t think like that. Josh wanted her to want to stay. He wanted her to choose to be here. He wanted her to want to be with him.
With a shake of his head, he realized he’d never given her a chance to decide anything for herself. If she’d left, it would serve him right for treating her like a child and for never giving her a choice in the matter.
He sighed in relief when he saw Sarah and Libby heading his direction. It took a couple of blinks to take his gaze away from Sarah in those tight jeans and realize his daughter wasn’t dressed in her head-to-toe black anymore. God, she looked practically grown up in the pink blouse, denim shorts, and sandals.
When they saw him, both of his girls smiled. Josh figured they would have waved if their hands hadn’t been full of bags. Not that he cared what they spent, but how many places had they managed to hit in an hour?
“Looks like you’ve been busy,” Josh said when they reached him.
Sarah frowned, looking a bit contrite. “I shouldn’t have...” She nodded at the sacks in her hand. “I’m sorry, Joshua. I’ll pay you back. I promise.”
He loved to hear the way his full name always rolled off her tongue. To Sarah, he was always Joshua, not Josh. And damn, how that pleased him. “You’ll do no such thing. I told you to get clothes, and I meant it.” He turned to his daughter. “You look incredible.”
Libby blushed. “Thanks, Pop. I figured it was time for a change.” She smiled at Sarah. “Sarah’s got good taste.” Then she grinned at her father. “In lots of things.”
That was a loaded line if he’d ever heard one. What
exactly had they been talking about on their shopping spree?
“I want food,” Libby said, handing her father the packages she’d been holding. “C’mon, Sarah.” She took Sarah’s sacks and passed those to Josh as well. “They make the best shakes here. And you can watch the machine churn the ice cream.”
Libby held the door open for them as they walked inside.
The sweet scent of the place immediately hit Sarah. Someone was making waffle cones, and they smelled...wonderful. Sarah hadn’t realized how hungry she was. Her stomach rumbled its discontent.
Josh stopped and grinned at her. “Hungry?”
A warm flush spread across her cheeks. “Yeah, very.” Her appetite had returned. Sarah realized she’d been surviving on nothing more than strong coffee and willpower. “Do they have Rocky Road?”
She was peering in the glass cases full of tubs of scrumptious looking ice cream when two tall, red-headed boys walked in the store. Both appeared to be in their teens. The oldest stopped at a table to talk to another customer, but the youngest marched straight toward Libby. He seemed to be that awkward age where his gangly limbs didn’t listen to his brain well, and he hadn’t entirely grown into his hands and feet. His clumsiness reminded Sarah of the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz.
The kid grinned at Libby then he quickly paled when Josh threw him one of the menacing “father” stares meant to keep all boys at a distance from their daughters. Sarah squelched a giggle. The whole scene was simply too charming.
“Dylan!” Libby practically squealed. “What’s up?”
Sarah almost felt sorry for the boy. He stared so intently at Libby, Sarah wondered if he could form a coherent thought.
“I...um... Did you... m...” He flushed a deeper red, put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and shuffled the toe of his sneaker against the tile.
“Dylan,” Josh said with a nod as Sarah came to stand at his side. “How’s your family?”
“They’re fine,” he replied before quickly adding, “sir.”
“Good to hear. Give them my best.” Josh turned to Libby. “Did you decide what you wanted?”
“A hot fudge shake.” She smiled at Dylan. “Do you want something?”
“No, I...I can get your shake, Libby,” he said, smiling at her with a grin so broad Sarah could see he had braces that matched Libby’s. “Do you wanna go to the drive-in tomorrow?” he blurted out so fast Sarah barely understood him.
“You wanna take me to the drive-in?” Libby asked. Dylan nodded like a bobble-head. Libby looked back at her father. “Can I go, Pop? Please?” The last word was a drawn-out plea.
Josh rubbed his chin as if considering her request. Sarah elbowed him gently in the ribs, coaxing a smile on his handsome face. “Fine.” Dylan’s face lit in an enormous grin until Josh added, “If you have a chaperone.”
“Ah, Pop... That’s so old-fashioned.” Libby pouted her lip. Then she suddenly smiled. “I know! You and Sarah can chaperone us.”
Chapter 12
“I’ve never been to a drive-in before,” Sarah said as Josh passed some money through the window to the man at the ticket booth. He handed back four ticket stubs, which Josh passed over the back of the seat.
Libby grabbed them and giggled. In fact, she’d done little except giggle since they picked Dylan up at his farm. Sarah understood. She’d been a thirteen-year-old girl once upon a time, feeling nervous around a boy she liked.
That seemed a million years ago.
Josh drove the sedan down a couple of rows until he finally turned and parked the car next to some ancient speakers hanging on a small post. Rolling down the window, he grabbed one of the silver boxes, pulled it into the car, and fiddled with the volume knob. The plastic piece came off in his hand.
“Um, Pop?” Libby said, sitting up to look over the bench seat. “I think that one’s broken.”
“You think?” Josh replied, glancing over his shoulder. He held the knob up. “You sure it’s not supposed to do that?”
Libby giggled again, causing Dylan to laugh. They made Sarah feel ancient.
Josh hung the speaker back up and drove the car up one more row. This time the speaker worked. Of course, to Sarah it had all the tone quality of the cheap transistor radio she’d owned as a child. But even being at the drive-in was a step back in time. She supposed the garble producing speakers were just keeping with the overall Montana time-travel theme.
Libby and Dylan were out of the car before Josh even turned off the engine. “Going to the swing set,” Libby called as Dylan took her hand and led her toward the small playground directly in front of the enormous screen.
“Just like when she was little,” Josh said, reaching over to take Sarah’s hand in his.
She loved how expressive he was. Always touching her. Holding her hand. Brushing locks of hair behind an ear. Putting an arm around her shoulders. Once they’d returned from the shopping trip to town, Sarah had been so worn out, she’d taken a long nap. When she awoke, the first thing she saw was Josh sitting in the rocking chair in her room, tapping away at his laptop. He’d noticed she was awake and had quickly shut the cover and put the computer aside. Then he’d come to sit at her side, smoothing her tousled hair away from her cheek. It was such an endearing gesture, Sarah had to sit up and kiss him to show her how much he pleased her.
Heavens, how she loved kissing him. After dinner as they’d relaxed on the couch. In the kitchen when he’d made them a late night snack. At her bedroom door where he’d lingered to tell her goodnight. Each time they touched, Sarah felt a rightness descend on her she’d never felt in her life. A feeling that was so strong, she could pretend that it was real and wouldn’t end soon. That she wouldn’t go back to her old life, to healing. That she would always be with Joshua.
“You okay, honey?” he asked, squeezing her hand, bringing her back from her wayward thoughts.
Sarah nodded, afraid to answer, knowing he’d hear the catch in her voice. The memories choked her because, despite her attempts to fool herself, Sarah knew this wasn’t going to last. Like everything else good in her life, it couldn’t last.
“Wanna go get some popcorn? Maybe a soda?” Josh asked.
Pushing the melancholy aside, she replied, “Sure. Sounds good.”
They came back from the concession stand with two enormous tubs of popcorn Josh insisted they soak in butter, four colas, and several assorted bags of candy. Libby and Dylan met them at the car.
“Sweet,” Libby said, taking a glass from Sarah. “We can go back for more later.”
Josh rolled his eyes. “She’s got a hollow leg.”
“She’s a teenager,” Sarah reminded him. “They’ve all got hollow legs.”
No sooner had they settled back in the car when the previews began, followed by the first movie before it was even dark enough to see it well. Sarah checked the clock on the dash. “It’s after eight. And it’s still twilight.”
“Montana in summer,” Josh said with a shrug. “Stays light really late.”
Paying little attention to the movie, Sarah was more engrossed with sitting close to Josh. The bench seat was nice because she could lean up against him. He dutifully put his arm around her and let her lay her head on his shoulder. Sarah got so comfortable, she dozed off.
It wasn’t until Libby and Dylan opened the car door that she realized the first movie had ended. Sitting up and stretching, she asked, “Where are you two heading?”
“We’re gonna go sit in the back of Brodey’s truck.” Libby pointed at a pick-up parked a few rows away that was turned so the bed faced the screen. “Some of Dylan’s friends are with them.”
“Is it okay, Mr. Miller?” Dylan asked, his voice cracking.
Josh nodded. “Come on back after the movie, Miss Elizabeth. We’ll run Dylan home.”
“That’s okay,” Dylan offered. “I’ll just head home with Brodey. Save you the trip.”
“Fine. Thanks. Go on,” Josh said. “Go spend time with people closer to
your age.”
Sarah smoothed her wrinkled shirt. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. I don’t make very good company.”
“Sure you do. And you’re supposed to be resting up.”
A shiver caught her off guard. The temperature had dropped considerably while she slept, but snuggled up next to Josh, she hadn’t noticed until she moved away from his warmth.
“Gets kind of cold here at night. Some places higher in the mountains, there’s still snow this time of year.” He reached over the seat and grabbed a plaid blanket. “Want this?”
What she wanted was Josh to put his arm back around her. “Sure.”
“Come here,” he said, patting his pec.
That was all the invitation Sarah needed. Curling her legs up beside her, she laid her head against his chest. Josh spread the blanket over her then put his arm around her shoulder. “Better?”
Sarah nodded. “You’re very considerate.”
His chuckle surprised her.
“What?”
“You wouldn’t think I’m considerate if you could read my mind.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m planning on what I can do to seduce you before the week’s out. I’m running out of time.”
Blunt was clearly a Miller family trait. “Seriously?”
“Definitely. Don’t you realize how much I want you, Sarah?”
“And you thought the kids needed a chaperone.” She loved knowing he wanted to make love to her. The lingering chill was banished by the warmth he sent running through her with his words and the gentle stroking of his hand against her upper arm.
“Sarah?”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve been kind of curious—”
She interrupted with a chuckle. “You’re a reporter. It’s your nature.”
A rumbling laugh sounded in the ear she had pressed to his chest. “Point taken. Why were you at the airport the day you...when you...got your healing power?”
Despite the bizarre fact she’d been struck by lightning on the top floor of the parking garage, the only other person who asked her that question was one of the paramedics who took her to the hospital. Hannah had never asked why Sarah had been at the airport. But then again, Hannah might have known.
