Hometown Sweetheart

“I’m leaving—right now.”

“Yeah, right.” Rick gave him a long hard look. “I do believe I see a sparkle in my old brother’s eyes. Coming to talk to the pretty lady—there’s a new concept.”

Simon wished he’d stayed inside. “I had to be polite, now, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t think you knew how to be polite.”

Gayle walked up, her smile sure and steady. “I saw you talking to Shanna. Isn’t she the nicest girl?”

Nice. But certainly not a girl. A woman. Simon had flirted with a woman for the first time since Marcy’s death. And that thought alone was enough to sober him into being his old anti-social self.

“Real nice. So nice she just about burned down the woods and the cabin the other afternoon.”

With that, he turned and stomped back toward his workshop, leaving his mother and his brother staring a hole through his back.

But when he turned at the door, the only person he saw in the late afternoon sunshine was Shanna White.

And he also saw the hurt, confused look in her eyes, too. But he told himself it didn’t bother him.

Not one bit.

Chapter Four

Three hours later, Simon heard a knock at his door.

He looked out the window but ignored the knock. His brother knocked again.

“What?” he said, opening the door to glare at Rick.

“Get that scowl off your face and come on over for dinner,” Rick replied, dragging Simon out by the arm.

“I’m not hungry.”

“It’s Mom’s spaghetti. So I don’t believe you. In fact, I bet you’ve been standing there, sniffing in the wind for the scent of rich Georgia tomatoes and a little basil and olive oil. Am I right?”

Simon couldn’t deny it. With all the windows thrown open to the fresh air, he’d taken a sniff or two of the good smells coming from the cabin across the way. His mother let it simmer for hours, making it rich and sweet and good. She knew it was one of his favorite meals.

“Okay, so maybe. I figured Ma would bring me some later anyway.”

“Ma, as you insist on calling her, made me come over here to get you. She said and I quote, ‘There is certainly no reason Simon can’t eat now with the rest of us.’”

Simon could think of a lot of reasons to skip this meal. But he’d never live it down if he did. “Okay, all right. I’ll come and eat. But don’t expect me to be pleasant.”

“I’d never expect that,” Rick replied as he headed back down the steps. “But I do expect you to use your manners and treat Shanna with respect.”

“I do respect her,” Simon shot back. “I’ve always been a respecter of women.”

Rick turned and grinned then. “So you like her just a little bit then?”

Simon would learn one day that he couldn’t fool his little brother. “She’s a pretty woman. What’s not to like?”

“And she’s single and available, even if you are about ten years too old for her.”

“I’m not that much older than you,” Simon said while they walked across the grass. “And besides, I’m not interested. Nice woman, yes. Me, interested, no.”

“Whatever you say, brother.”

Obviously Rick didn’t believe him. Simon wouldn’t dare tell his brother that he got these funny little feelings each time Shanna was around. Feelings he didn’t want to discuss or even think about. But they were there, like fireflies lighting up the night, inside his head.

Just nerves. He wasn’t accustomed to being around a lot of people at once. And he hadn’t thought about another woman since Marcy. He didn’t like thinking that way.

“Have you met all the kids?” Rick asked, taking the steps to the cabin two at a time.

“No. I’ve tried to avoid all the kids.”

“You’re some welcome wagon, that’s for sure.”

“I only ask to be left alone.”

“You need to get out more, get involved in life.” Rick waved his hands. “Look around you, Simon. The dogwoods and magnolias are blooming. The azaleas are budding. The woods are alive with mountain laurel and rhododendrons. It’s spring, time for renewal and rebirth.”

Simon glanced around the woods. He hated to admit he hadn’t even noticed. “I have allergies.”

“You do not.”

“Do so. I’m allergic to nosy brothers and noisy kids.”

Rick stopped at the screen door to the cabin. “No, you’re just afraid to live, Simon. And if you don’t drop that attitude, one day you’ll look up and see that you’ve missed out on a lot of things.”

Simon sniffed, lifting his nose toward the kitchen. “Well, I ain’t missing out on that spaghetti. So move out of my way.”

“You came.”

Shanna smiled over at Simon as she handed him a sturdy foam plate of spaghetti and crusty French bread. “We have pound cake and ice cream for dessert.”

“My mom’s cake?”

“I do believe so. She’s such a good cook.”

“Yeah.” He took the plate then sat down at one of the long picnic tables he’d helped Rick and some of the boys carry down between the cabins to a level spot closer to the river. “She is a good cook. She taught my wife how to cook.”

Shanna looked up at that statement, her eyes filling with compassion. “I’m so sorry about what happened.”

Simon wanted to bite his tongue. He never talked to anyone about Marcy. How had that slipped out? “Thanks.” He went about shoveling in food, chewing so he wouldn’t have to speak.

“You don’t like talking about it, do you?”

“No.” And he didn’t like that she could see that.