The One She Left Behind

After facing the mourners again, Sam immediately caught sight of the reason for his friend’s caustic tone. Dalton Wainwright, the son of the man who’d dubbed himself the king of Placid, had stopped to visit with Savannah. And Dalton’s wife, the former Jessica Keller, stood by his side.

Not everything had changed, Sam decided. During their high school years, Chase had always despised Dalton Wainwright. Obviously he still did.

“I can’t believe she’s still married to him, and I can’t believe she has a kid by him, either,” Chase said, more malice in his tone. “He didn’t deserve her back then, and he doesn’t deserve her now.”

Yep, his friend’s hatred still burned bright as a bonfire. “Have you talked to Jess since you’ve been back?”

Chase kept his gaze trained on Dalton in a menacing glare. “He won’t let her out of his sight, and if I came less than two feet from him, I’d kill him.”

The comment caught the attention of Pearl Allworth, who was standing nearby. She scowled at Chase but Sam noticed a gleam in the town gossip’s rheumy eyes, like a starving woman who’d just been tossed a prime steak. He also noticed the glare Dalton leveled on Chase as he led Jess away. A look that said, “She’s mine.”

Sam decided it would be best if he diverted Chase’s attention before he took off after Dalton and started a scene to feed the rumor mill for months. He centered his attention on Matt Boyd, who’d stopped to speak with Savannah. “Too bad Rachel’s not here. Matt said she wasn’t feeling well this morning. I suspect I know what ails her. She’s got a bun in the oven.”

Chase continued to stare at Jess as she headed away. “Nah. Not after all these years. Matt’s too busy playing the county cow doctor instead of breeding his wife.”

Sam grinned. “That might be the case, but I’ve still got a gut feeling Rachel’s pregnant.”

“And I think he’s more concerned about Gabe Wooley’s band of heifers than making his own baby,” Chase said. “Twenty bucks says she has a virus.”

Sam took Chase’s offered hand and shook on the deal. “You’re on.”

They shared a laugh before Sam noticed Savannah heading toward the black limousine parked at the curb. When their gazes briefly met, she immediately looked away, but he continued to watch her until she disappeared into the car.

“Savannah still looks good, Mac,” Chase said.

Time to play ignorant. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re lying.”

Yeah, he was. “Okay, maybe she hasn’t changed much, but neither has her attitude toward me. Not that I give a damn. I have just as much right to resent her, too.”

“Give it a rest, McBriar,” Chase said. “We were all kids back then. You need to get over the past.”

Savannah wasn’t inclined to bury their past any more than he was. She’d proven that yesterday when she’d run out on him again at the diner. She was proving it right now by pretending he wasn’t there. Not a problem. He wasn’t in the mood to reconnect with her, either. But he did have to admit she still looked great. Really great. He could admire her from a distance, and leave it at that.

Chase patted him on the back. “Why don’t you come with me to the Greers’ to pay our respects. That way you can get a better look at her.”

So much for not being obvious in his admiration. “You go ahead without me. Right now I need to get back to Jamie. I’ll make a point to look in on the family later this evening.”

Just for grins, he also planned to have a talk with Savannah to satisfy his curiosity. To learn if she’d gotten what she’d wanted all along—a life that hadn’t included him. And he knew exactly when and where he’d find her.

SAVANNAH LOVED THIS TIME of day, right after the sun had set over the fields and the summer air had cooled to a tolerable temperature. Initially when they’d moved to Placid, she’d despised the flat plane of the land that seemed to go on for miles. She’d hated that so many trees had been cut down and plowed under for the sake of agriculture. She’d detested everything about the area, until the day she’d discovered the small bridge rising over the dried-up creek bed that separated her parents’ farm from the McBriars’ acreage. A welcome break in the barren landscape where the live oaks had been spared. Her very own private oasis, both then and now.

Nothing had really changed, except for the new wooden planks beneath her feet. Most likely Sam had taken it upon himself to make sure the bridge remained solid and stable with his own two hands. He’d always been good with his hands.

Savannah ran her palm over the message that she’d carved into the railing years ago—Sam and Savannah Forever. A typical and foolish teenage pronouncement of love. Or maybe for Sam it had simply been lust. Without warning, the image of their secret meeting place hidden by the nearby copse of woods filtered into her mind. A place where she and Sam had learned so much about each other, both physically and emotionally. Especially physically. Many times they’d lain together on a blanket, experimenting and exploring each other eagerly, but not quite going “all the way” for a solid two years. Then came the night of her seventeenth birthday when, alone in her bedroom, he’d said “Please” and she’d said “Yes.”

After she heard the rustle of leaves followed by footsteps, Savannah turned her attention to her left to discover Sam emerging from behind the curtain of trees, as if she’d somehow psychically summoned him. Yet he wasn’t the lanky boy of yesterday. He’d matured in body with a broader chest and more bulk. Instead of T-shirt and jeans, he wore black dress slacks and a white tailored shirt. He carried a brown paper bag, not the age-worn guitar he’d oftentimes brought with him in their youth. But those cobalt blue eyes still held the power to reel her in like a hummingbird to sugar water.

As Sam approached with a self-assured gait, a sudden, sharp sense of awareness caught Savannah off guard. Her frame went rigid, as if she needed to physically brace against the impact of his presence. She had imagined this moment, dreaded it in some ways. Hoped for it. For years she’d avoided it.

He paused at the end of the bridge and sized her up, much the same as he had the day before in the diner, his expression unreadable. And as he continued on, Savannah struggled for words. Maybe she should offer an apology for being so abrupt yesterday, in spite of the fact he still owed her one for the way he’d treated her years ago. Then again, maybe not. She would be adult, coolly polite, but she wouldn’t grovel.

“Hello,” she said as soon as he stood a few feet from her.

Sam offered her the sack but no greeting. “I’ve been instructed to give you this.”

She took the bag and asked, “What is it?”

“Gracie’s pecan pie.”

Savannah fondly remembered the housekeeper who’d treated her like one of the family. “I can’t believe you still have Gracie.”

“Yeah, I still have Gracie,” he said without even a hint of a smile.

Now what? Bid him goodbye and leave? If she had any sense at all, that’s exactly what she would do. Yet curiosity overcame common sense. “Aunt May told me you had a daughter. What’s her name?”

He streaked a palm over the back of his neck. “Jamie.”

“Congratulations.” If only she could sound more sincere, but the shock over Sam choosing the name they’d planned to give their own child reflected in her tone.

“Still practicing law?”

“Yes,” she said, ignoring the obvious disdain in his tone. “It’s hard work but it has its rewards.”

“I can’t imagine keeping corporate CEOs out of hot water would be all that damn rewarding, so it must be the money.”

Clearly he’d learned she’d chosen corporate law, and apparently he didn’t approve. Not that she cared what he thought about her career choice. “I’ve represented struggling small businesses as well, sometimes pro bono, so it’s not all about the money.”

“If you say so.”

His overt sarcasm drove her need to get away from the bitterness that was almost palpable. “I better go. Mother’s probably wondering where I am.” Then again, probably not. “Give Jim and Gracie my love and let them know I miss them. I didn’t have an opportunity to speak with them at length after the funeral.”

His expression turned stoic as stone. “You could tell them before you run back to Chicago.”

Obviously he wasn’t going to do her any favors or cut her any slack. “I’ll try to stop by for a visit before I leave.” In spite of the possible emotional upheaval, she also wanted to see Sam’s daughter.

“Fine.” Without further hesitation, he turned and headed away, as if he had nothing else to say to her. As if he had no use for her.

She shouldn’t be surprised, nor should she feel anything but relief. But as she started across the bridge toward home, Savannah experienced an overwhelming sense of emptiness, just as she had that day in the diner when they’d ended a close-knit relationship with hurtful words neither could ever take back. She hated the feelings. Hated that he could still strip her emotions bare. Hated him for acting as if nothing had ever existed between them. Hated herself for still caring.

Just as Savannah stepped off the last wooden plank, Sam called her name, stopping her progress. She faced him again and simply answered, “Yes?”

He kept perfectly still while he kept his gaze locked into hers. “Do you regret it now?”

She frowned. “Regret what?”

“Leaving town to get what you wanted, and staying away from your family when they needed you most.”