Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series (21 page)

Chapter 24
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Sunday June 10, 1962

“Good morning, Miss Jordan.”

Sarah’s pulse skipped a few beats, a familiar scenario whenever Sam was around. “Mr. Lewis.”

“Fancy meeting you here. Come here often?”

“You need some new lines, old man, but you have a nice singing voice, and you are a fervent prayer warrior if ever I’ve heard one, so I’ll forgive you for stale pick-up lines.”

“That was one of the longest sentences I’ve ever heard you say. Complimentary and insulting all at the same time. Fascinating.” Sam stepped aside to allow Sarah to exit the pew ahead of him. “Even so, we’re in the house of the Lord now. Watch yourself.”

“Not to be flippant, but the good Lord and I are on good terms. We have an understanding.” She tossed her hair over one shoulder as she passed by him. Goodness, that was a move she’d never made before, but she’d seen Tess and other girls do it when they were flirting.

“Is that right?” He crossed his arms. “Meaning He understands you can’t help yourself.”

“Yes,” Sarah said, moving to the center of the church. Dropping her purse on a pew, she began to move down the row, collecting empty communion cups. “I think I’m going to nickname you Hershey.”

“Because of my puppy dog eyes that melt you with one glance?”

She laughed and then slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. “I meant, are you going to follow me around like a puppy or will you help me?” She frowned after she picked up a cup smeared with bright red lipstick. “Okay, I deserved that,” she said, staring at her fingers. “No comments, please.” Pulling a tissue from her purse, she wiped the lipstick from her fingers.

“Wouldn’t think of it.” Sam moved to the row behind her and started collecting the cups. “Speaking of a puppy following you around, have you had any more puppies of either the human or canine variety tagging at your heels since I’ve been away?”

“Other than you? No.”

“You adopted Hershey right before my family moved to Rockbridge, right?” He’d apparently decided to ignore her insinuation.

Sarah snapped her gaze to Sam’s, surprised he’d remembered. “Yes. How. . .”

“I remember more than you might think, Sarah. Are you thinking of getting another dog?”

Shaking her head, she lowered her gaze. “No. My parents are planning to do some traveling, and Tess doesn’t have much of an interest in getting a pet. She never did. And”—she reached for Sam’s collection of cups—“with nursing school, I won’t be able to have a dog.” She stopped her work. “I seem to recall a teenager in town who adopted every stray dog and cat and made sure they had good homes. Whatever happened to that guy?”

Sam’s gaze zeroed in on her. “He grew up and realized he couldn’t save every unwanted pet in the world. Not that he won’t one day rediscover that passion, but he’s currently pursuing other interests.”

Okay, then.
They worked in companionable silence before moving to another section together. Sarah greeted a few of the ladies and told them she’d take care of the remaining cups.

“I’m sorry for being so short with you in recent days,” she said finally. “You were only being my friend, and I haven’t been particularly nice.” She heaved a sigh. “You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my frustration.”

“I’m here, there—wherever—if you need me.”

She smiled. “I know. Thanks.” They worked again in silence for another minute. Maybe longer. Time could be a funny thing. “So, I take it you’re the talented artist who made the drawing?” she said when they were alone in the sanctuary. The aromas from the kitchen down the hall wafted to her, making Sarah ravenous. To think this wasn’t even the Father’s Day Luncheon—that event was next Sunday, and traditionally one of the biggest feasts of the year.

“Yes, I’ll take credit for the drawing.”

“It was exquisite. A gift. Thank you for that, too.” Sarah’s gaze locked with his, and she melted a bit more.

“I’m happy you like it.”

“I’ll treasure it. But I’m not putting it beneath my pillow. And now, my stomach is calling,” she said. “I smell Angela Farris’s sweet potato casserole. Let’s check the other pews and see if all the communion cups have already been collected, and then head over for lunch.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sam said. “Mom brought peach pie.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“The peach is the best fruit ever. Hands down. No debate.”

“Wouldn’t debate you on that one, even if I could.”

“Meaning you agree?”

Sarah laughed. “When it comes to peaches baked in one of your mother’s delicious pies, I do. You’d better get a slice before it’s all gone.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Sarah Jordan?”

“Never, Captain.”

A couple of minutes later, after checking the remaining pews, Sam gave her a charming, irresistible smile. Part of her wished she could see that smile and not melt while another, bigger part of her, could stare at this man all the livelong day. “Ready?”

“Yep. Looks like we got them all.” She handed the stack of communion cups to him and then grabbed her purse from the pew. “Let’s go eat.”

♥

Sarah stole glances at Sam throughout the meal in between small talk with the others seated at her table. Sylvie Foster made sure she occupied the chair next to Sam and his family across the room while Sarah sat with her mother and father. Tess was sitting elsewhere, laughing and chatting with a group of friends. She’d invited Sarah to join them, but she’d declined, preferring to sit and sulk.

“Looks like Captain Lewis found himself a girlfriend.” Alice Kindred’s remark prompted everyone at their table to stare across the room at Sam.

Sarah slowed her chewing. Cheeks burning, she refused to follow the crowd this time.

“Doesn’t mean anything,” Alice’s husband, Donald, said. “That boy’s playing the field. I’d do the same thing in his shoes.” Alice looked none too pleased at her husband’s remarks, and some of the other wives shot glances at their own husbands.

Wiping her mouth with her napkin, Sarah kept quiet with no intention of joining in their speculation. She attacked the sweet potato casserole with renewed interest, keeping her head down.

In the middle of their meal, everyone stopped talking. Twisting in her chair, Sarah almost collided with Sam as he took the vacant seat beside her. He set a plate with a generous slice of his mother’s pie in front of her.

“Aren’t you sweet.” She lowered her voice as the others resumed their conversations. “I thought I’d missed out.”

“You would have, but I had her save an extra slice special for you in the kitchen. I would have brought it over sooner, but—”

“You were otherwise occupied. I understand. This wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate your thinking of me.” She patted his hand. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Could I be any more of a snit?

Sam chuckled. “You’re not keeping me from anything.”

“I’m sure Sylvie would disagree.”

“Don’t presume anything, Miss Jordan.” Propping one elbow on the table, Sam leaned his head against his fist. No fair. The man was giving her his most irresistible smile. Was he purposely toying with her emotions?

This is so confusing, Lord.

Picking up her fork, Sarah poised it above the plate. “You came to see me eat the pie? In that case, pie is always better when shared, don’t you think? Thank you for not smothering it in vanilla ice cream. That would have been overkill.” Stabbing a warm peach slice in the pie, Sarah offered it to him.

“I know you prefer it
non
-à la mode,” Sam said. He remembered something like that? The man did seem to pay attention.

Accepting her challenge, Sam leaned close. She watched as he took the peach from the fork, his eyes never leaving hers. How could he make something as simple as eating a slice of pie an experience she’d never forget? My, oh my. A quick glance around the table confirmed the amusement of the others. Alice’s mouth positively gaped. Sarah avoided direct eye contact with her mother. She felt giddy and silly, and wished she could slip under the table.

Placing the fork on the side of her plate, she cleared her throat. “Well, now, that’s a surefire way to get the rumor mill circulating. You see me every day at the diner,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I should think you’d be tired of me by now.”

“I’ll never be tired of you. Give me another bite, and let’s really get them going.” Sam graced her with another heart-melting smile.

“So not fair.” If Sarah knew what was in her best interest, she’d ignore that comment. What had gotten into the man? Without a doubt, he’d taken serious leave of his senses. “This pie is absolutely scrumptious. Your mother’s outdone herself this time,” she said around another mouthful. “How
does
she do it?” Maybe she should gobble down the pie like a pig and then he’d see how unladylike she was. That should do the trick and then he’d rightfully turn his attention elsewhere.

“You know,” Sam said, “Mom tells me she’ll only share her peach pie recipe with someone very special. It’s one of those old family secrets. Guarded like a precious, rare jewel. But she’ll only give it to the girl of my choosing. Once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Sarah swallowed another bite without tasting it before chasing it down with her pink lemonade. “Is that so?” She slicked her tongue over her teeth, and then wiped her mouth with her napkin. “That’s a mighty tall responsibility. And quite an honor. Sorry to say, you sound a little cocky about that fact, too.” Her heart pounding, she pushed the plate across the table to Sam. “Here, you finish it. It’s delicious but too much for me.”

“Aren’t you going to ask?” He polished off the pie and gave her a smile of satisfaction.

“I should think not.”

“Chicken?” When he borrowed her napkin to wipe his mouth, she pointed to the corner of his lips. With a wider grin, he wiped the napkin across his mouth. “Did I get it all?”

“Yes, but taunting isn’t becoming. Of course, I’m not chicken. You know me better than that. However,” she said with an exaggerated sigh, “you might as well tell me since you seem determined. That and embarrassing me with your shameless public flirting or whatever it is you’re doing. You really should be ashamed, Captain Lewis. You’re a respected military man and in the house of the Lord, need I remind you. Why the teenage boys look to you as their role model is beyond me.”

Sam rose to his feet and picked up the plate. Pausing directly behind her, he whispered for her ears only, filling her senses with his wonderful cologne. “Guaranteed, Sylvie won’t be getting that recipe.” With a parting wink, Sam strode away from the table, empty pie plate in hand. She liked it when Sam winked. No, she didn’t. More like she shouldn’t. Oh, what a fine mess.

Donald Kindred cleared his throat as Sarah stood and gathered other empty dishes from the table. “Alice, would you care to update your remarks about Captain Lewis?”

Sarah ducked her head and fled to the kitchen. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be subjected to a barrage of questions about Sam. As it was, she found it difficult to sort out her feelings for the very handsome, incredibly addictive man.

She almost stopped in her tracks as she spied Sylvie walking out of the fellowship hall with Sam. At least she didn’t have her arm hooked with his. Sam paused at the door and glanced across the room. Their gazes locked, and he tipped his head. Was she supposed to be a mind reader and know what that meant? No matter what Sam said, Sam was leaving with Sylvie. Oh, bother.

If others weren’t present as she dried the communion cups, Sarah would have slapped her forehead.
My stomach is calling
, she chastised herself, silently mimicking what she’d said to Sam earlier. Girls weren’t supposed to talk about food, and they shouldn’t have such a healthy appetite. Sylvie was a stick, and yet her figure was cute with enough womanly curves to attract the attention of most men.

Why did she care?
Sam knew she had a healthy appetite. That was no secret.
You’re leaving Rockbridge.
First and foremost, she’d forever be his Tomboy, the younger friend he teased. Who happened to be female. Like the little sister he’d had—and lost—in Rachel. That thought sobered her as Sarah stored some of the dried communion cups in the pantry. If she could fulfill that role for Sam, then so be it. She’d be thankful she could bring a smile to his face and he could tease her all he wanted.

Is that what you want to be to Sam? Or do you want something more?
Why did the man have to flirt with her? Attract her? Spend so much time with her? Didn’t he know how difficult he was making her life? That nagging little voice inside her was growing more relentless. Retrieving the dishtowel, Sarah stuffed it inside another communion cup and swirled it vigorously. Was she so naïve she couldn’t tell the difference between flirting and teasing? Was he playing with her emotions or trying to turn her head with those eyes, that smile, that handsome face? No, Sam wouldn’t knowingly toy with her feelings. Would he? Could he not understand what havoc he was wreaking with her emotions?

You flirt with the man, you silly girl. You enjoy it, and you want to be with him.

“I think that glass is dry enough, Sarah.” With a knowing smile, her mother took the communion cup from her.