Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series (10 page)

He needed to remember that, but as Sarah walked over to a table of new customers, Sam couldn’t help but hope she might soon start to see him as more than a friend. As more than a man who came into Perry’s Diner every day and stared at her like a besotted idiot.

Charlie was right. Yeah, he had it bad.

Chapter 12
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~♥
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The Next Monday Night

“What was being overseas like, Sam?
Really
like?” Sarah stole a glance at where he sat beside her, both dangling their feet in the creek. Same as they’d done on Saturday afternoon and then again on Sunday evening. Meeting Sam was becoming a very nice habit, and something she looked forward to after a long day at the diner. He was easy to talk to, and he listened with interest as she made random observations of life. She liked hearing about Sam’s work. Not so much about his actual job as the deep satisfaction he found in getting to know the townspeople.

“Fascinating, challenging, and then there were the days we experienced the kind of sadness I’ll carry with me the rest of my days.” Dipping his feet in the water, Sam flexed his ankles and sent a spray of water shooting into the air and across the creek.

“At times I’d wonder why our forces were over there at all. Then I’d question why specific decisions were made. Why certain actions weren’t taken.” He stared straight ahead. “But then I’d remind myself it’s where God planted me and what I’d trained to do. In Taipei, Chiayi, Vietnam, to name a few.”

She was surprised he’d revealed that much to her. “Do you think serving in the military strengthened your faith, or the opposite?”

He appeared to consider his words before answering. “You ask the tough questions, but the good ones. As a matter of fact, I’d never felt more compelled to share my faith than when I was in the service. Telling others about the Lord and how He’s worked in my life somehow felt more natural than ever. Like I couldn’t
not
say something to give those guys hope. It’s ironic that it takes something like the threat of a potential war to do what I should have been doing all along.”

Sam blew out a breath and closed his eyes before reopening them a few seconds later. “A lot of the guys suffered from depression, loneliness, and some waged a battle with the bottle or other drugs. It’s a big world out there, Sarah. Full of people warring with inner demons, family members, or fighting something or someone else that has nothing to do with the threat against our national security.”

“I know. Those kinds of battles are probably the hardest to fight,” Sarah said. “I’m sure it changes your perspective, too, right? To be honest, I can’t imagine what it’s like.”

When he met her gaze, the light in Sam’s eyes faded somewhat. On instinct, Sarah reached for him. Glancing down at their joined hands, Sam laced his fingers through hers, holding on tight.

“I was at Taipei Air Station in 1959 and part of a tactical reconnaissance squadron. We lost a few of our guys, but not from anything related to our mission. A couple died from disease. Two in car accidents. One got in a street fight, was stabbed through the heart and gone like that.” He snapped his fingers. His voice had grown quiet, thick with emotion. “Men with sweethearts, wives, kids. Even though I know God is always in control, sometimes it didn’t seem fair. None of it.”

She frowned. “They knew the risks going in, just the same as you did. At least they knew they were loved. Their families and sweethearts will cherish their memories.” Turning to face him, Sarah made sure she had his complete attention. “Lots of people here in Rockbridge waited on your homecoming, you know.”

The tiniest hint of a grin teased the corners of his lips. “Is that your way of saying you waited for me to come home?”

“Not at all.” She dipped her head to hide her smile.

Disengaging his hand from hers, Sam splashed her lower legs as she dangled them in the water. She splashed him back.

“Enough serious talk.” Jumping to his feet, Sam tugged his T-shirt over his head and tossed it on top of his tennis shoes. Before she could recover from the sight of seeing him shirtless, Sarah gasped as he tugged on her arm and jumped into the water, pulling her in with him. She fell against his strong, firm chest, and cold water rushed over her, enveloping her from all sides.

“Oh! You stinker!” She feigned offense, but she knew Sam wasn’t buying the act for a single second. Struggling out of his arms, Sarah splashed him full in the face.

Sam laughed and used his palms to smooth his hair back from his face, an action that highlighted the strong, distinctive planes and those great cheekbones. “I guess I deserved that.”

“You sure did.” The water was even colder near the bottom of the creek bank, and she bobbed up and down, shifting from foot to foot beneath the water. Shivering, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “It’s almost summer. Why is it so cold in here?”

“That’s why I like it. Wakes you up, and it’s refreshing. There’s only one way to get rid of the shivers. Come on.” Grabbing her by the hand, Sam pulled her farther into the water. “Full immersion.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” When she tugged on his hand, he surprisingly released her without a fight. “Tell me something else, Hero.”

His eyes sparkled. “Ask away, Tomboy.”

“I’m no longer a tomboy, remember?”

“And I’m not really a hero unless the act of coming home qualifies me for that distinction. Air Force guys are called by any number of nicknames, and the ones that aren’t completely derogatory are things like propeller heads, prop tops, wing nuts, fly boys, zoomies.” He raised his hands. “How about it? Any one of those strike your fancy?”

“I still think Hero qualifies by virtue of your willingness to serve your country overseas, but fine. I’ll call you Captain, then, since you earned that title legitimately. Better?” Without waiting for Sam’s answer, she kept going. “Tell me something,
Captain
. Is it true you were caught skinny dipping in this very creek once upon a time?”

“Guilty as charged.” Sam laughed and raised his face to the sky. A moment later, he lowered his head and leveled that blue-eyed gaze on her. “For the record, I wasn’t in mixed company. It was me and a few guys trying to cool off on a hot summer night. Playing around and acting stupid. Lest you think the worst of me.”

“I didn’t ask who kept you company.” She gave him an impish grin and her pulse skipped a few beats when his smile widened.

Slowly moving backward—still facing her—Sam waded into the middle of the creek. “Sarah Jordan, are you asking me to skinny dip?” The evidence of his intense physical training for the Air Force—the strength of those broad shoulders, the trim waist, rock-hard chest, the well-developed muscles—was in full view. Oh, it was glorious.

“Never.” The cold water felt good since she was feeling a bit heated now.

“I’m surprised you don’t wear a swimsuit when it’s this hot outside. Don’t you swim?”

She could feel her cheeks flooding with warmth. “I normally do, yes.”

“Fully clothed?”

Sarah snapped her gaze to his. “Since you’ve been coming here lately, I didn’t want you to. . .” She huffed. “I didn’t want you to see. . .” She raised her hands in the air. “None of your business.”

“You’re beautiful, Sarah.” The admiration in his eyes stole her breath.

Oh, Lord, what am I supposed to do with that statement?
Her cheeks grew even warmer.

Knowing Sam, it probably didn’t enter his mind that she might consider him physically distracting to the point where she found it difficult to tear her gaze away from him. Jumping on him from behind might not be the best idea either. Riding piggyback as he waded through the rushing waters of the creek wouldn’t be good as much as she’d love to do that very thing. No, that would be much too close, too intimate.

She wanted to have fun with him at the creek, just as she always had, but any physical contact left her wanting more. Sam was just being himself. Considerate. Kind. Nice. But she wasn’t ten anymore, and he wasn’t sixteen.

Needing a distraction, Sarah prepared to dive. “Let’s swim.”

“Race you to the rocks.” With sure strokes, Sam splashed water in her face as he passed her. Although he’d allowed her to win their little footrace before, this time he seemed intent on being victorious. Fine, she’d give this one to him. Adopting a slower pace, she followed behind him, content to let him forge ahead.

Later, they rested once again on the bank of the creek, basking in the warmth of the early evening. A gentle breeze stirred the trees and she trained her gaze straight ahead. She’d teased Sam and they’d played around in the water, but she’d been careful to keep her distance. If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d done the same. Good, although her traitorous feelings threatened to betray her when he’d grabbed her around the waist at one point. She’d moved her hands around his neck and they’d stared at one another for a few seconds before he’d gently lowered her back into the water.

She couldn’t shake his words from her mind.

You’re beautiful, Sarah.

He’d never said those words to her before. Sure, he’d told her she’d grown up. Told her he thought she’d been cute as a kid. She’d glimpsed admiration in his eyes. He’d praised her, complimented her. Laughed at her bad jokes. Teased her like she imagined he’d teased his kid sister.

No, Sarah, he doesn’t treat you the same as a kid sister.

As it was, she was self-conscious enough in her thin shorts and with her cotton top clinging to her. In some ways, she felt exposed although she was modestly covered in something more than a one-piece swimsuit. Besides, she needn’t worry about Sam. He was a gentleman. Then why did she suddenly
want
him to treat her as more than a younger friend?

Be honest, Sarah. You want Sam to notice you as a woman.
Not flat-as-a-board, ten-year-old Sarah. The twenty-one-year old Sarah with curves and perhaps a tiny ounce of that sex appeal everyone else seemed to talk about incessantly.

Forgive me, Lord, if these are sinful thoughts.

Seeing that Sam’s eyes were closed, she studied him. Smooth, tanned skin, sculpted high cheekbones. Classically handsome features. What would it be like to feel Sam’s lips on hers? She’d only kissed one boy—Kenny Meyers after senior prom—and wished she hadn’t. Not that it was bad, but there wasn’t even the tiniest spark of that elusive thing called passion.

Moving her gaze away from Sam, Sarah lifted her face to the sky and closed her eyes. More than any man she’d ever met, Sam made her believe passion could exist. The way she felt in this moment, she figured it was fairly close to that type of passion.
Am I crazy?

“Martin Benson came into the bank the other day,” Sam said a minute later, breaking into her reverie.

Sarah propped herself on her elbows and glanced over at him. “How’s he doing? I guess it’s been well over a year now since Marty died.”

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. When I was talking with him, it was one of those times when I wish I could have traded places with Marty.”

Sarah frowned. “I really wish you’d stop saying things like that.”

“Like what?”

“How you wish you’d died in someone else’s place. People die all the time, Sam. Accept it and get over it.”

“Well, that’s blunt.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe so, but it’s the truth. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m sorry about your sister’s death, but you seem to have some kind of misplaced martyr complex. It makes me worry about you, if you want the truth.”

“Oh? How’s that?” His frown deepened. “And this isn’t about Rachel. I’ve accepted that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t get sad and miss her sometimes.”

“That’s only human. Of course, you miss her. I miss my grandparents now that they’re gone, too.” She paused, wishing she hadn’t made it sound like a personal attack. “I’m talking about what you said about wishing you could take Marty’s place. That’s like saying you wish God would take you in their place and bring them back. Wish all you want, but that’s never going to happen.”

“You got all that from what I said?” After staring at her for a few seconds, Sam turned toward her, elbows on his raised knees, those incredible blue eyes boring into her. Gone was the fun, carefree mood of a short time ago.

A warm breeze ruffled her hair, blowing damp strands across her face. She pushed them aside with a sigh of impatience. “Well, for one thing, if you go back for another term of service, tour of duty or whatever it’s called, I’d be afraid you might do something. . .ill-advised.” A nice way of saying stupid, but surely the man understood her implied meaning. Sam wasn’t stupid, by any means.

“It’s not like I’d volunteer for a suicide mission, Sarah. Give me some credit.” Now he sounded peeved. Honestly, she couldn’t blame him.

“There
is
a strong likelihood you’ll be called for another term, right, especially if any one of these conflicts escalates?”

Something indefinable flickered in Sam’s gaze as he faced the creek and then closed his eyes. “No.” A simple word, but spoken so quietly and with such a measure of regret, Sarah recognized she’d touched a raw nerve again. When she said nothing further, Sam opened his eyes and turned his head to looked at her again. “Go ahead. You can ask me if you want.”

“Not if it’s hurtful.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not going back. I was discharged. Honorably, in case you’re wondering.”

“I’d never have doubted that for a second.”