Smoky Mountain Sweethearts

Her face had more color after a full night of rest, but she needed a push. He could push.

The atmosphere of a rousing cat-and-mouse game evaporated as Avery stomped closer to his reserve truck. “Let’s go get the car. Straight there. Straight back. We don’t negotiate with terrorists or matchmakers.”

Before Sam had a chance to agree or disagree, Avery yanked the door open and slid inside.

He propped his hands on his hips and tried to decide how he’d lost control of the conversation and whether or not he was going to take her interference in stride. Normally, his mother was the only managing woman in his life and he loved her enough to go along with it. Every now and then, Janet Abernathy took a step forward and did string-pulling, and he could accept that good-naturedly because she was his mother’s best friend and she loved him almost as much as his mother did.

The last thing he’d want, though, was to sign up for a third bossy female. Avery was glaring at him through the windshield and made a “hurry up” motion with her hand.

“You know, it would tick her off if you go for a drive through town. It’s your day off. Live a little.” His mother picked up the empty containers he’d left on the porch railing. “If your trip takes long enough, I’ll have dinner ready and we can refill these before you go home.”

“Take her by the pie place,” Avery’s mother said. “Girl needs to eat and you remember how she loved it.” The pie place stood across the main street from Sweetwater’s library. Avery had loved both.

“You two are determined one of us is going to end up in the hospital, aren’t you?” Sam smiled and stepped away.

Slowly he strolled back through the grass and approached his truck. He bent his head through the driver’s-side window and said, “You could ask nicely, you know. A girl who wants a favor ought to try that first.”

“Okay, but a woman who knows how to make you sorry is sitting in this seat,” Avery said sweetly. “Don’t make me go crying to your mother.”

The old, familiar threat had lost little of its power, but Sam was happier, more relaxed than he had been in days as he slid behind the wheel. He’d almost forgotten the fact that he was waiting for an email. He was still stuck right where he was, but he could put off checking his email for an hour or two. Avery was here to distract him. “Fine, but we have to make a stop first.”

If rolling eyes could have a sound, hers would. She’d always been so dramatic. That was what made it fun to pester her until she reacted. “Okay, but if there’s not a fried pie in my future, your afternoon is going to take a terrible downhill turn.”

Sam was grinning as he backed down the lane. Until he remembered their audience and cursed under his breath.

“What?” Avery said as she checked over her shoulder for traffic on their dead-end gravel road.

“I was acting like I was enjoying myself. We don’t want to encourage them.” Sam immediately assumed a scowl. Let them think whatever Avery said had wiped away his good mood. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t, but he glanced over at her. “If they gang up on us, can we prevail?”

Avery blinked slowly at him. “Prevail?” She whistled. “I like it. A battle of good versus evil, all over our dating lives.” She rolled down the window and stuck her head out, the breeze ruffling short gold curls instead of the long, messy ponytail she’d had at seventeen.

It took him a minute to drag his eyes back to the road. The mix of old Avery, the wild girl who’d leaned half her body out of the car to catch the breeze, and the new Avery, a woman with closely cropped hair with a touch of silver here and there, confused him. He could see the girl, even though he would say he wouldn’t have recognized the woman without a clue when he’d found her on the mountain trail.

Time in Sweetwater was bringing her back to life.

She’d caught him watching her.

“What? A beautiful fall day is perfect for the windblown hairstyle. Soon we’ll have cold and rain. Might as well enjoy it to the fullest.” Avery ran a hand through her hair. “I haven’t done that in so long. It feels good, wind blowing through my hair.”

Sam nodded. “Sure. There’s a lot less of it to mess up now, too. And if we don’t get some rain soon, this whole place will be a dust pile. Driest summer and early fall we’ve had in a decade.”

Sam wasn’t watching but he heard what he thought might be the snap of her teeth. Was she grinding them together? “What did I say?”

“As if you don’t know.” Avery pulled up one leg and braced it on the dashboard like old times. “I can’t tell if you really don’t like my hair or you’re poking again, trying to get a rise.”

Sam tightened his hand on the steering wheel. It was a bit of both, if he was being honest.

Still, he wasn’t a fool. Commenting on a woman’s hair was a minefield of wrong decisions.

“It was simpler, less fuss. Straightening it every day was such a hassle and I had more important things to worry about.” She played with the hair at her temples. “Robert didn’t like it, either, but it had to be done. Believe me, deciding to cut my hair wasn’t the hardest thing I did, but it sure wasn’t easy. Losing that ponytail was like...”

Sam waited for her to finish the sentence but she shook her head. Even if he’d managed to punch through the sadness that made her seem so fragile when he’d met her on the trail, some of it hovered around her now. He wanted to chase it away again, but not by his usual means.

He studied her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed so vulnerable, but every conversation was revealing enough of her grit to reassure him AA was still in there.

“It was like saying goodbye to myself, the person I knew I was,” Avery said softly.

If he reached over to give her an encouraging hug, she’d make him regret it.

The urge to do it anyway was something he had to get under control.

“If we’re going to the library and the pie shop, you’re going to have to drive faster. The library closes at five.” Avery tapped the digital display on the dashboard. “And since I’m out of the house like a perfectly normal human being who has no worrying grief or latent suicidal tendencies, I want my prizes.”

That was what he wanted to talk to her about, whatever it was that had her mother so worried, but she met his stare. “I’m fine, Sam. My mother will make sure of it.”

Here, in the sunshiny afternoon, it was easy to agree. Sam grunted. “Someday, I’m going to spend time analyzing how my stop for more leftovers took such a wrong turn.”

“When you head to this new job,” Avery said with a wave of her hand, “you’ll have time and distance. That makes it so much easier to see through my mother’s expert finagling.”

Sam shot her a quick look and then hung an arm out the window. “Yeah, and what brings you home, then? Time and distance sound good to me.”

“Sometimes you miss that finagling,” Avery said as she fussed with those windblown curls. “Sometimes you need it, Sam.”

The quick trip through Sweetwater was silent as he thought about her words. As he parked in a spot in the center of town, perfectly situated for both the library and the pie shop, Sam wondered if she was warning him. He’d never been away from home. What if he was as restless and dissatisfied in Colorado as he was here? There weren’t any bigger mountains for him to climb.

Avery opened the door and then paused. “I don’t know what my mother told you...about last night, but I wasn’t even thinking of how I might possibly someday want to kill myself.” Her cheeks were pink as she met his stare. “You know me, Sam. That’s not me.”

She wanted him to agree, so he did. “Of course it’s not you. That was part of the finagling, I bet, a way to get me to leave my nice, cushy vehicle and head out onto the dark, cold trail.” He stretched in the seat. “They were already matchmaking. No way did I ever believe it, AA.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face, like she wanted to trust him but wasn’t sure she could. Then she tipped her chin up. “You coming in?”

“To the library?” Sam asked in his best “you’ve got to be joking” voice. “I’m headed for pie and right now.”

She shut the door. “Meet you there in five.” Then she was trotting slowly across the small lawn in front of the library. In the old days, she might have thrown a cartwheel in for punctuation. As it was, he was glad she made it to the door without stopping. In the light of day, he could see the same fatigue in her face, but something had changed in her eyes.

And that was the thinking of a man who was spending too much time considering a woman who would never be his type. Ever. They made better competitors than friends, but he was glad she’d pushed him as hard as she had. Right now, she needed some pushing. He could do that.

First, he was going to get two fried pies, and if she took longer than fifteen minutes, he was going to eat them both.

CHAPTER SIX (#u887f6a20-e0ea-541f-9965-13f10b08a08b)

WALKING BACK INTO the library where she’d spent so many happy afternoons after school was like taking a deep breath above the surface after touching the bottom of the pool. Everything was familiar and yet new. Even the librarian had changed.

“I’d like to apply for a library card,” Avery said as she turned in a slow circle, taking in the new paint color, the new carpet and the same familiar smell of old books.