Safe at Home (Warm Springs Trilogy Book 1) Page 7

  In her old apartment she used to set out a fresh bouquet every week. Sometimes, she used a bud vase to add a touch of color and some weeks she would buy a huge bundle of sunflowers to bring a punch of life into her living room. Either way, it was nothing compared to what she had now. She paused by her bedroom window and smiled. The kaleidoscope of color transformed her yard into a sort of wonderland.

  As the shower steam filled the air, she began to feel a slight hint of nerves fluttering gently in the pit of her stomach. Dinner was cooking. The house was clean. She had no reason to be nervous. After her shower, she spread lotion on her legs which carried the faint scent of strawberries. It lingered behind her as she paced over to stand in front of her closet.

  She tossed shirt after shirt onto her bed and then flipped through her skirts. None of it seemed right. After what seemed like an eternity, she decided on a simple sundress. The buzzer sounded and Sam tugged the dress over her head as she ran down the stairs. Dinner was beginning to release a pleasant aroma all over the downstairs. It smelled a little bit like heaven. Hopefully, it tasted as good as it smelled.

  With a quick glance at the clock, Sam hurried back up the stairs to finish putting herself together. Following a turn with the hair dryer and a dab of makeup, she took one final look in the mirror and decided she finally looked more like a woman than a dirty field hand. Then, right on time, the doorbell rang and her nerves went from a gentle hum to a full-fledged buzzing.

  “Hi, come on in.” Sam opened the door and stood back to let Spencer step inside.

  “You look great. Here, these are for you.” Spencer handed her the tulips he was carrying.

  She barely saw the flowers because of his intent eyes currently locked on hers. “Thank you. They’re beautiful,” she stammered. The oven buzzed again. “I better get that. Make yourself at home,” she called from halfway down the hall. Glad to be in the kitchen, she took a deep breath.

  She’d never seen him dressed up before. He was wearing a sport coat over a white shirt with some jeans, but he wasn’t wearing a hat, so the eyes she thought of too often were now even easier to get lost in. Come on. Get a grip, girl. You’re acting like you’ve never seen a man before. She shook her head and opened the oven, reminding herself Spencer was only her friend.

  Sam looked amazing. His heart had skipped a beat when she opened the door. He felt clumsy and a little bit awkward being at her house this way. He’d been there every afternoon for months, but this was different. For once in his life, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to pull her close and drink her in. She smelled of something sweet and even after she hurried to the kitchen, her scent stayed with him.

  “It smells great.” He walked over to one of her bookshelves and smiled as he skimmed the titles. There were gardening books to fuel her passion and books about antiques to help her learn about her current job. There were knickknacks and vases full of fresh flowers arranged between clusters of books. Then his eyes came to rest on a photo album. He reached for it and hesitated. He should resist, but he wanted to know her more than he’d ever wanted to know anyone. Before he could stop himself, he slid it over and flipped it open.

  There she was looking up at him. Her hair was shorter then, but it was the same Sam. Not the sad, distant Sam he had originally met, but the one he saw when she was talking to customers in the shop or playing keep away with Alex and Boomer in the backyard. He flipped the page and saw her standing on the beach somewhere, but she wasn’t alone. There was a man standing behind her with his arms around her waist and they were laughing.

  Spencer felt a pang of jealousy stir within him. Who was this guy? Where was he now?

  “It’s ready, go ahead and have a seat at the table,” Sam shouted from the kitchen.

  With a start, Spencer tucked the album back on the shelf and headed into the dining room. “This is new,” he commented as she walked into the room carrying the final platter and set it on the table.

  “Do you like it? I finally got around to buying some new furniture. The vase on the buffet is from Mary’s store.” Sam sat in the seat next to him and passed him a basket with warm rolls wrapped inside a white cloth napkin.

  Her nearness distracted him from the food and he nearly missed the basket she was offering him.

  “Oh yeah, I was going to tell you, last weekend I was storing a few things in the attic and I came across some boxes. I think you should take a look. I didn’t go through them because they’re obviously your family’s things.”

  Her comment made him feel even guiltier about looking at her photo album. “I guess when Mom left, she didn’t take the time to clean out the attic.” He shrugged. “Or maybe she forgot that stuff was up there. I’ll stop by and pick it up one day this week.” He paused to take another bite. “Jake might like to take a walk down memory lane, too.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your mom now?”

  Spencer set his fork on the edge of his plate and folded his hands together. “After my dad passed, she decided to move to Florida to be near her sister. She’d been taking care of Dad for a long time. I think she needed a change.”

  “Do you miss her?”

  “Of course, but Florida isn’t too far. We still see each other pretty often. She can’t stay away from Alex.”

  They talked for hours. Mostly about the new job Spencer had started. Then they talked about the antique shop and how the tourists were keeping her busy, but then Spencer decided to delve in a little further. All through dinner, the image of the guy in the picture clawed his way to the foremost of Spencer’s thoughts like an itch he couldn’t ignore.

  “So, have you ever been married?” He tried to make it sound casual, but it sounded a little forced, even to his own ears.

  “No, have you?” Sam smiled, but shifted in her seat.

  “No. Do you want to get married one day?” He was starting to feel like a complete fool, but he couldn’t stop himself. He was usually so smooth.

  “Maybe, do you?”

  She was being infuriating and he was getting nowhere. “I always figured I would one day. What about kids?”

  She dropped her gaze to her plate and remained quiet. He paused not knowing where to go from here. He’d been so stupid. They had been perfectly as ease with one another, but with one question the wall between them erected itself to its full height.

  “Sorry, maybe that was too personal.” What’s this, like date number two? Jesus, he thought, running his hand through his hair.

  “Well, it’s getting late.” Sam stood and started carrying their plates to the kitchen.

  He picked up more dishes and followed her.

  “Oh, you don’t have to help. I can handle it from here.”

  “Are you sure? I really don’t mind. Plus, you did all the cooking. Which was very good by the way.” His compliment seemed to help. At least she was smiling again.

  “Thank you. I don’t think anyone has ever told me that before.”

  “You never cooked for your boyfriend in Chicago?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew the night was officially over.

  Her back stiffened as she turned away from him. “Where did that come from? And the questions about marriage?” Now there was a slight wariness in her voice.

  Deciding that the truth would be best, he told her about flipping through her photo album. “I’m sorry. Curiosity got to me.” He stepped toward her and stopped short of placing a hand on her shoulder. “It was wrong and I’m sorry, but I’m just trying to get to know you.”

  She turned and stared at him. “You had no right to look at my private things. Make yourself at home is just an expression.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but she might as well have been yelling.

  “But, really I…”

  “I’ll see you to the door.” Her voice rang with a finality that made him feel completely ashamed.

  He slammed the door to his truck and revved the engine. Women. It was obvious he didn’t understand them at a
ll. Man, did she have a bug up her ass. And, this wasn’t the first time. There was the time she had jumped all over him when she found out he’d grown up in the house. Why did he keep coming back for this kind of punishment?

  He was a simple man. There were plenty of women out there who wouldn’t care if he asked those questions, most of the time they wanted him to. Hell, he was usually the one avoiding them. He thought about driving straight down to the local bar and drinking Sam right out of his mind, but there wasn’t enough beer in the entire county for that.

  Annoyed with himself for being an idiot and at Sam for making him care, he drove home. He swung his truck into a parking space behind the building of his loft and headed up the stairs. He all but kicked the door in at the same time he yanked off his sport coat. When he threw it, he missed the chair and the coat fell to the floor, but he didn’t bother to pick it up. Instead, he headed straight for the fridge. Cracking open a beer and falling onto the couch, he rubbed his face and scowled into the darkness.

  He knew it was too late. All through their picnic earlier in the week all he’d wanted to do was touch her. Her arm, her hair, her face. He thought about her all the time. Now he knew there was another man somewhere who had been touching her. Any day now the guy sporting the big stupid grin in the picture was probably going to show up and move into her house for all he knew. Maybe they’d even call him over to help move the guy in. He took another swig of his beer. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he couldn’t stop.

  Maybe that’s why he asked her all those questions. Maybe he needed to know there was no other man in her life. He wanted to be that man. He knew it was crazy. He’d never even kissed her. By this time he was usually the one ready to move on, but with Sam it was the complete opposite. He wanted more time with her. If he hadn’t ruined it, maybe he’d still be at her house.

  She didn’t know what upset her more, the fact that he had been rummaging through her things or the fact that her past still found a way to ruin what was supposed to be a fun evening. Maybe she didn’t deserve fun. Sam cleaned the dishes with a vengeance, but soon found the fight had gone out of her as quickly as it had come. She fell onto her couch with a deep sigh and rubbed her tired eyes. She thought about turning on the TV for noise, but the album that had called to Spencer seemed to be calling for her. She crossed to the shelf holding her only memories from her old life and stroked the leather cover. It had been almost a year since she’d gazed at the images on its pages.

  She picked up the album and carried it back to her chair. When she opened it, her chest ached as she stared down at Tyler. He was there on the beach with his blue eyes shimmering and a smile brighter than the sun. He smiled as though he had a secret and he probably did. The trip to the beach that day had been spontaneous. He told her he had a meeting that day, but instead he had shown up at her door at six-thirty in the morning and insisted she pack for a day at the beach. Dumbfounded, but excited she obliged and the next thing she knew they were on their way to the Hamptons. The house had been on loan from Jesse Sharpe, the man who Tyler was going to get elected to Congress.

  It had been the perfect weekend and it was the last one they spent together. One short week later, their lives changed in an instant.

  Chapter 12

  She awoke with her face stuck to the plastic that covered the pictures in her album. Still groggy from sleep, she looked down and saw herself and Tyler staring back up at her. She snapped the book shut, got up stiffly and replaced the album on its rightful shelf. It was time to quit living in the past.

  After a shower, some coffee and her morning email to her mother, she was nearly back to normal. A little stiff from falling asleep in a chair, but she was ready to face the day and put the previous night behind her. She’d been a fool to think the meal was going to be the only complicated part of having Spencer over.

  Swinging her car into a space, she hopped out and headed for the door of the nursery. She didn’t need any more plants, nor could she afford to keep buying them, but it never hurt to look, and it’d been a long night. Nothing was bound to pick up her mood like browsing through row after row of rich smelling flowers.

  She hadn’t gotten very far, when she heard someone call her name. Placing the little white flowered plant back on the table, she swiveled around and was caught in a hug.

  “What are you doing out and about so early?” Ann released her and smiled.

  “Nothing much. Just enjoying a Sunday morning.”

  “I don’t blame you, but I thought people without kids slept in.” They both laughed and began to walk down the aisle.

  “Where’s Alex this morning?”

  “He’s with Jake and Spencer. They’re going to the hardware store. Very macho. Then we’re all meeting for the late service.”

  Sam’s face fell at the mention of Spencer’s name. Ann must’ve noticed because she didn’t ask how dinner had gone the night before. Instead, she changed the subject. “What’re you doing next weekend?”

  “Um, I hadn’t really thought about it. I’ve just been taking it one weekend at a time. Something else you can do when you don’t have any children.” Sam winked at her.

  “How would you feel about running a tent with me and Jenny at the Hydrangea Festival in LaGrange?”

  “What Festival?” she asked a little confused.

  “Hydrangea Festival. There will be around fifty vendors with tents and tours to people’s houses that have beautiful yards full of . . .”

  Sam held up her hand. “Let me guess, hydrangeas?”

  “Exactly. We, Jenny and I, are running a craft tent to raise money for the Baptist church in town. The older ladies like to make things, but they don’t like to go into town if they can help it. The ones that do go, take the tour and shop, or just sit around talking about people they used to know and how much the city has changed from when they were little girls.”

  “I guess that would be okay. It’ll give me a chance to see a new area.”

  “Great, Jenny will be thrilled. Oh, I was going to tell you, there’s a dance at the end of the day where they crown one of the town’s teenage girls the Hydrangea Queen.”

  “That must be quite an honor.” Sam stifled a laugh.

  “Oh sure, and it lands you right on the front page of the paper.” Ann grinned, too, and then leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t laugh about it in front of Jenny. She was the queen about ten years ago.”

  They approached the counter and said their goodbyes, and Sam set off towards her car. Hydrangea Queen, huh? She couldn’t believe how wonderful it was to live in a place where there was such a thing, much less, where it made the front page of the newspaper.

  The week flew by and the whole town seemed to be buzzing about the upcoming festivities. Mary was going with a group of ladies from the church, and the guy who owned the fudge shop behind the store where she worked was going to have a booth. It seemed as though all of Warm Springs was going to be closed that weekend.

  Sam spent her Friday afternoon driving over to LaGrange and helping set up the tent for the next morning. The entire square was blocked off. She had already learned a great deal about the festival from Jenny who had been talking excessively about it for the last few hours. She didn’t mind though, she just listened intently and was thankful that for once Jenny wasn’t pumping her for information about Chicago. Jenny was obsessed with city life. She headed to Atlanta every chance she had, and couldn’t wait to visit New York.

  Ann gave directions and set the crafts out accordingly, while Sam and Jenny hauled boxes. Ann had already apologized a hundred times for being unable to help carry anything heavy and she was doing it again.

  “For the last time, it’s no problem. You should take advantage of the situation while you still can. It won’t be long and you’ll be hauling around a baby and everything that comes with it.” Sam stopped to sip her water and wipe the sweat from her brow with the back of her arm.

  “That’s a good point, but I don’t like feeling usel
ess.”

  “You aren’t useless. Plus, it’s a good thing you’re setting those things out.” Sam motioned to the table. “I don’t know what half of them are.”

  “Why don’t you take a rest and I’ll tell you all about them. After all, you’re going to have to sell this stuff tomorrow.”

  There were little jars with cakes in them, and dolls made from fabrics with rope for hair similar to the ones on the beds in Earl and Betsy’s hotel. Then, there were toy airplanes made out of coke cans attached to a wooden pole with some string that would fly by swinging them in the air. There were also ornaments, hats and pillows and Sam’s personal favorite, the homemade candles that smelled like lavender. It was going to be an interesting Saturday.

  The next day brought out what seemed to be three town’s worth of people. She was busy all morning and from the looks of it, so were the other vendors. No wonder everyone made such a fuss. Exhilarated, Sam finally took a break and went out to find some food for the three of them. She saw funnel cakes, pretzels and fluffy pink cotton candy, which she would have to make a mental note to come back for later, but the smell of the hot dogs won her over. Balancing three bottle drinks and a tray full of hot dogs, she made her way back to the tent and almost ran smack into Spencer.

  “Whoa, hey, how are you?” Spencer stood there looking perfectly at ease as if she hadn’t thrown him out of her house the last time she’d seen him.

  “I’m good, could you step out of my way please? You’re blocking the entrance to the tent.” Her tone wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t friendly, either. She most certainly wasn’t going to smile at him.

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize . . .”

  “That’s not the only thing you didn’t realize.” Her tone had more bite than she intended, but she was still mad, dammit. He hadn’t even tried to contact her after their horrible dinner and express any sort of regret. What made matters worse, she had missed him that week. Every time the bell to the shop had wrung, she had looked up hopefully and then chastised herself for it.