by Leger, Lori
Sam glanced down at his watch. “Another fifteen minutes then it’s back to work.”
She stretched and pointed toward the park. “Is that a walking track I see?”
“Yep, want to make a round?”
She turned to look at the other guys, all in various positions and stages of napping. “Guess it’ll just be us.” They walked, making small talk, until they made it halfway around the track. Carrie stopped to investigate a decked gazebo with rails and built-in seating around the perimeter.
“What a great place to bring kids.” She climbed up the wooden steps to walk through the gated doorway, turning in a slow circle, to view the park from a different perspective. “This is perfect for small children and frazzled moms. It’s a giant outdoor playpen.”
Sam followed her up the steps and chose a seat across from where she’d parked herself. “Yeah, it’s my favorite design, yet,” he said, his voice filled with pride.
Carrie jerked her gaze around to peer up at him. “You designed this?”
“Designed and built it on commission. I live a few blocks to the east of this place.”
“I didn’t know you were a carpenter.”
“I like working with wood…er…lumber,” he added, cracking a grin.
Carrie’s eyes sparkled with silent laughter. “Don’t ever stop trying to be funny, Sam. One day you’ll get it right.”
“I’m forty years old.” He forced the tone of his voice into an exaggerated twang. “If it ain’t happened yet, chances are, it ain’t gonna.”
“You big Redneck.”
“Watch who you call a Redneck, Coon-Ass.”
Carrie twisted her features in distaste. “Call me Cajun all day long, but never Coon-ass. Do you know the origin of that word?”
He nodded. “It’s from the French word, conasse, a derogatory word the French used to describe people of a lower culture.”
Carrie’s mouth opened in surprise. “I’m doubly impressed, Mr. Langley. With this,” she said, indicating the gazebo, “and the fact that you’re the first person since my dad to have answered correctly.”
“Do I get an ‘A’?”
She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “Let’s see. I may have to grade on a curve.”
“How about a date?”
“Maybe a B plus…” she began, before she stopped suddenly. “What did you say?”
“I asked you for a date. You know, for answering correctly.” He stood and walked over to take a seat beside her. “How about it, Carrie? Is it worth dinner and a movie?”
Carrie gazed at the sincerity in his face. “Oh…I…Ah,” she stammered, trying to shake off her surprise as her brain shifted into overdrive. All the reasons she shouldn’t flooded her mind, doing battle with her desire to say yes. Everything she’d seen of this man in the last few months told her Sam would be a good risk. Every thump of her heart reverberated in her chest, mimicking the three-pitch drums she used to play in high school.
Sam raised his hand, his features tight. “Forget I said anything. I had no business thinking you’d be interested.”
Carrie reached out to lower his hand, her voice strong and steady as she spoke. “Sam, look at me.” She waited until he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “It’s not that I’m not interested, but, there are things going on in my life right now that—”
“No is good enough, Carrie. You don’t have to make excuses.”
“I’m not making excuses, but your timing sucks.”
Sam propped his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “That’s a given.”
She leaned forward until she could see his face. “My daughter, Lauren, is depressed about the divorce, and I’m worried about her. She’s been visiting the school counselor regularly, but between that and those damn phone calls—”
“What phone calls?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing…”
“Is your ex threatening you?”
“I don’t think it’s Dave. I’m not sure who it is. He never says anything. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know if it’s a he. I just know that…” Carrie’s voice trailed off as she remembered her early morning non-conversation with the mysterious caller.
“It scares you?”
“It does. And then, after the call,” She paused, not wanting to discuss this morning’s incident.
“What?” Sam asked, stiff-backed and attentive.
“Maybe it was coincidence, but our two dogs went crazy around three o’clock this morning, barking and snarling. I went out to check, thinking they had a raccoon or something cornered. Toto and Lucas were standing at the edge of the yard barking into the back pasture. When I called them, they both acted like they do in full protection mode, pacing back and forth in front of me, growling and staring out into the darkness.” She ran her hands over her arms, trying to shake off the chill at the memory. “I felt like someone was out there, watching me.”
Sam opened his mouth to speak then closed it again. He pulled off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. “Well hell, I don’t know about you, but that sounds potentially dangerous. Maybe you need to get the hell out of there. I know that road you live on. We surveyed that son of a gun several years back. It’s out there in the vicinity of nowhere and B.F. Egypt.”
“I’m surrounded by family—”
“Whose family?”
“I can count on any of my in-laws to help me if I need—”
“Then why weren’t they with you?”
“Because I didn’t call any—”
“Why the hell not?”
“And tell them what?” she said, trying to keep her voice calm. “Help! My dogs are barking?” Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “What the hell’s wrong with you, Sam?”
He shoved off impatiently from his seat next to her. “I wish you’d be more careful. You shouldn’t have gone outside. Surely, you heard about that poor blind, woman from Lafayette who was raped and beaten for three days. The scumbag left her to die like she was nothing. As far as you know it could be the same guy!”
“I had the dogs with me—”
“Yeah, yeah…Toto and Lucas. What are they? Chihuahuas? Poodles? Some other useless little dog?”
She blinked twice and once more before she found her voice. “Toto’s a standard white, poodle-terrier mix, but Lucas is a four year old Chesapeake with a head the size of a basketball.” She shifted her stance and cocked her head toward him. “Anything else?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
Sam took a deep breath and let it ease out slowly, before placing one hand on the back of his neck. “I hear myself being a dumbass, and I apologize. But dammit, I’m in…I’m…I’m worried about you,” he stammered.
Carrie stared up at the man who’d slowly turned into someone she looked forward to seeing every day. She’d grown used to Sam the grouch, the clown, the tease, and finally, the friend. But she wasn’t accustomed to hearing this level of passion in his voice, or seeing the raw emotion revealed in his face. He cares about me.
“Look,” she told him. “If anything like that happens again, I won’t go outside.”
He rubbed roughly at his face with one hand and nodded. “Fair enough, but you should have called someone.”
“You know if I called any of my in-laws, they’d probably send Dave to check it out.” Carrie laughed as he grunted his disapproval. “Come on, jerk. Let’s go meet the guys.”
Once they were back on the walking track Carrie caught Sam glancing over at her. “What?”
“Can I ask you something? You can tell me to eat shit if you want to.”
She smiled. “Go ahead.”
“You said you and Dave were separated several times. Why’d you take him back all those times? What did he have that made you want to keep trying?”
Carrie’s steps slowed as she considered her answer. “I was stuck. No education, no job, no way to support my kids. That’s when I decided I needed a plan. So, I went back to school.” She star
ed down at a small pine cone before kicking it off the track. “You know, Sam, I dropped out of my first semester of college when I married Dave. I was eighteen and went from my parents’ household to Dave’s. Being out there, alone, and responsible for myself and my kids is a huge step for me. At times, it feels overwhelming.” She scuffed the toe of her shoe uneasily at the asphalt.
“What if you weren’t alone?”
Carrie plucked at a stray thread on the hem of her shirt sleeve. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if there was someone around to help, offer support?”
She waited several seconds before speaking again. “What kind of support?”
Sam fidgeted before he continued. “Emotional support, or more, if you wanted it, from someone like me. I mean…From me.”
Sam shifted, unable to meet her gaze. The wind picked up, sending the dry leaves of the park’s water oaks and silver leaf maples to dance around their feet. It whistled through the pine grove surrounding the park grounds as the taller, older trees swayed and creaked in the strong wind.
“Listen, Sam. I’m newly divorced and I’ve got three kids to think about. If you’re just looking for someone to take to bed—”
His hand flew up to stop her mid-sentence. “That’s not what this is about. I’m not interested in a fling. I think you’re a brave, beautiful lady, and I’m impressed as hell at what you’ve accomplished.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tapped the heel of his work boot on the asphalt track. “I’ll be honest with you,” he said, his voice steady. “I never thought I’d have the heart to try this again. But there’s something about you that makes me want to risk it.”
“Sam, I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I know you,” he admitted. “I know your favorite food in the world is boiled crawfish, your favorite dessert is homemade banana pudding. You despise daylight savings time. Your favorite color is burgundy, and you look good in it, but you look even better in forest green. I know you used to cry when you heard the song Hold On by Wilson Phillips because you felt like they wrote it for you. Every Christmas you make it a point to watch A Christmas Story, It’s a Wonderful Life, and the old version of A Christmas Carol.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and grabbed the back of his neck, elbows forward, as he released his breath in a long, slow hiss. “I’m screwing this up, I know I am.”
Carrie stepped forward to place a hand on his arm. “No, you’re not, and I’m flattered. And maybe once I’m in my new place I can think about it, but my life is too complicated right now—too many unanswered questions to take a step like that. I need to learn to be alone with me for awhile.”
She lifted her hands and dropped them again. “All I can do is to ask you to be patient.” She stared up him, her pulse quickening, as the drums re-established the rhythm in her ears. She had to dig deep for the courage to continue, but she couldn’t stop now. “So, in the meantime, if you find someone else, well, I’d understand if you didn’t want to wait around until I’m ready,” she finished, her voice trailing off to a whisper.
She watched, nervous as a crawfish next to a pot of boiling water, as Sam pulled himself up to his full height. She sucked in her breath and held it. He’s going to say he can’t waste his time waiting on me. She heard him take a deep breath, as though to calm himself. He couldn’t possibly be as nervous as she was. Could he?
“You know, Carrie,” he said, finally, drawing out the four syllables in a slow, seductive manner. “I haven’t always been a patient man—”
Carrie nearly fainted as he stretched out his long, sinewy arm to place a light touch on the tip of her nose.
“—but something tells me you’d be worth the wait.”
The breath whooshed out of her lungs in a rush. Vibrating with nervous tension, she put her hand up to stop him when he tried to say more.
“Don’t,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “There’s nothing you could possibly say to top that.” Carrie backed carefully away from the man, wishing for once, she could afford to let go of her inhibitions. His one-sided grin caused that single dimple to reappear, making her crave to cover it with a slow, lingering kiss. She turned away from the man who stood staring down at her as though she were the best thing since chicken and biscuits.
***
At the end of the work day, Carrie glanced up as Sam paused before her desk. She smiled, semi-self-consciously, and turned her attention back to retrieving her car keys from her bottomless pit of a purse. It was the day before Thanksgiving and the long holiday weekend. She felt surprisingly distressed that she wouldn’t see Sam until Tuesday of next week.
Sam twirled his keys around his finger as he leaned against her desk. “You got big plans for the long weekend?”
“Just a get together with my family,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his. “You know, my mom and what’s left of her litter of eight kids.”
“What’s left?” he asked, skipping over the litter comment.
“I lost a brother to bone cancer a few years back. But two of his kids will be there. How about you?”
He gave her a non-committal shrug. “My kids and I are supposed to spend it at my sister’s place this year. My folks will both be there, too.” He leaned over on her desk, tapping his key on the surface. “Hope you don’t have any run-ins with your ex over the weekend.”
“I shouldn’t,” she said, snapping her purse shut.
“You need to turn him in to the Sheriff’s department for making those phone calls, you know.”
His acidic tone made her drop her purse on her desk as she faced him once more. “I told you I don’t know that it’s him making the phone calls.”
“Come on, Carrie. Of course it’s him!” he said.
”Really? It must be nice to be so sure about things,” she said. “Exactly when did you find the proof?”
“I don’t need any proof. I know it’s him, and you need to do something about it,” he told her.
“That’s what I need, huh?” she said, her tone sweet as honey, luring him like a fly to tacky tape. “Maybe I need a big, strong man to take care of me over the holidays, too.” She saw him puff up with prideful hope.
He pulled out his wallet and handed her his business card. “My home number’s on there if you decide that’s true.”
Carrie smiled, and looked around to make sure everyone else had left the building. She took his card and read it then plastered an angelic smile on her face as she turned toward him again. She tore the card in half, and stepped forward to tuck the pieces in his shirt pocket. “I don’t think I’ll need this after all,” she said, patting his pocket, with the same sweet smile on her face. “It took me eighteen years to get rid of one controlling man. It’ll be a snowy day in hell before I let another man dictate how to run my life.” She grabbed her purse and walked toward the door without one backward glance, determined not to waste another minute thinking about old blue eyes.
CHAPTER 5
2:00 A.M. Monday morning
The smile broke over his face as she answered the phone, her voice grumpy with sleepiness.
“Don’t you ever get tired of this?” she groaned.
Not hardly.
“Who’s there?”
I’m here.
“Okay, asshole. You’ve had your little fun for the night.”
He frowned as he heard the distinct click when she disconnected. Three sentences from her sleepy lips wouldn’t do it tonight. He hit redial, was rewarded a moment later when she answered, her voice a mixture of disbelief and anger. Her answer made him smile.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she croaked.
Afraid not, sweetness.
“I tell you what. Just for tonight, let’s pretend you’re not a selfish jerk and let me get some sleep, okay.”
Or not.
“I’m hanging up now.”
I’ll call back. And he did—over and over again. At least a dozen times—just to hear the sound
of her voice grow increasingly more fearful, though she tried not to show it. He knew from talk around town that her mother was in a Lafayette hospital with a severe case of bronchitis. No way would she take the phone off the hook, good daughter that she was. He used it against her.
The last time she answered nearly did him in. She answered, unafraid, pissed off enough to taunt him.
“Why don’t you say something, you chicken-shit, son of a bitch? What, did you get tired of drowning kittens and killing baby birds?”He smiled. Small stuff. Microscopic.
“You don’t scare me, you know!”
That’s not what the tremor in your voice is telling me.
“I’m taking the phone off the hook, now.”
“Carrie,” he whispered. Her gasp was the only thing that let him know she’d heard him. He smiled, imagining the look of shock on her face, and laughed after she slammed the phone down, breaking the connection. He hit redial, ready to raise the stakes, and tell her he was coming for her. Not tonight, but she wouldn’t know that. It was all part of the game to raise the terror factor. When he called back, he got a busy signal.
“No, no, no…Not now!” His voice—a prolonged, deep growl—resonated throughout the deserted back alley of the local bar.
He hit redial. Busy signal. Again…again…and again.
A low snarl accompanied the loud crack as cell phone hit the twelve inch thick brick wall.
***
After spending five days trying not to think of Sam over the Thanksgiving holidays, Carrie was surprisingly glad to see him waiting for them at his carpool pick up spot. Instead of sitting in the front, he opened the back door, forcing her to slide to the middle as he climbed in next to her. She tried to concentrate on her latest library book, a thriller by a cop turned crime writer. Unfortunately, having Sam near enough to brush his arm against hers, to smell his cologne, sense his need to be near her…all kept her from concentrating as she read and re-read the same page for the sixth time. By the time they pulled up to the office, she was ready to scream.
As Dan vacated the seat to her left, Carrie slid across the bench seat toward the door. Before she could slip out she felt a gentle tug at her wrist, and turned to see Sam still remaining at his end of the bench seat.
