What the Heart Needs (21 page)

Apparently he had moved onto the land butting up against Old Mam’s, the eccentric town spinster who grew herbs and spices and tea. If there was a scandal in town, she was sure to be right in the center of it. Hannah had spent many a afternoon forced to help Mam weed her beds when her parents dropped her there in the summer to get a break for a few hours.

When she finally pulled onto the dirt road, the first thing she noticed was how badly Mam’s land was tended. The grass and weeds in her front lawn that had always been meticulously cared for, were ankle high and growing. And there was a different green hatchback parked in the driveway. With a shrug, she continued down the road, dust pooling in clouds around her windows.

She finally saw his house come into view, nestled on a huge piece of property- more acres than she cared to guess about and a simple post and plank fence lining the edges. In the back she could see several large, new barns and paddocks full of animals moving to and fro. The house itself was breathtaking.

It was a two story colonial, in fresh white and shutter-less. The lead up to the black front door was a charming cobblestone path. He had lush green flowerbeds lining the whole front of the house. There were nine gleaming windows across the front and three additional windows peeking out of the roof tiles. It was an enormous, perfect house.

Maybe if she knew he had such exquisite taste, she would have stayed with him, she laughed to herself, putting her car in park and taking a deep breath before walking up the path.

She was suddenly nervous. What was he going to think to find her on his doorstep after so many years? Granted, they had seen each other in town when she had stopped home for holidays. But they had barely even spoken.

But what better choice did she really have?

Hannah rolled her shoulders, stiff from being in a car for so long, and slammed the silver doorknocker four times. There was silence from within and she wondered if maybe he was out on his property somewhere. Then the door pulled open suddenly and there was Sam Flynn in all of his glory, naked from the waist up.

Hannah felt a little flutter at the sight of him, memoires of their four years of fumbling around with each other’s bodies rushing her system. Age had certainly agreed with him. He was six feet of strong, farmer muscle. He had shaggy, though somewhat short dark blonde hair and golden brown eyes. And looking down at her, a familiar, easy lopsided grin spread across his face, making his eyes crinkle at the edges. He always had the best smile.

“Hannah,” he breathed her name out, then pounced toward her, grabbing her in a bear hug and turning her around in a circle. When he planted her back on her feet, he ruffled her hair in a brotherly way. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Hannah looked down at her feet, feeling sub-conscious.

“Han,” Sam said, sounding serious. “what’s wrong?”

Hannah shook her head, looking up and frowning at the severe look her presence had put on his face. “Can I crash for a couple days? Without you telling anyone?”

Sam’s head tilted to the side, his eyes squinting in curiosity. But when he spoke, he said only, “Of course. However long you need. I have plenty of space.”

He stepped back from the doorway, holding an arm out to invite her inward. Without any questions. She knew she could count on him.

Directly to their right was a spacious living room in a deep orange color with black furniture. To the left was a formal dining room painted green. She doubted he got much use out of it though, living alone. He lead her down a hallfway with a few doors to the side into the back of the house. The kitchen. Which took up the entire length of the house. Sam always loved cooking. She had tried to talk him into going to culinary school, but he couldn’t be swayed. The kitchen was painted white with white cabinets and stainless steel appliances. There was a set of French doors that led onto a back porch, and two sets of windows that let in an incredible amount of light.
Sam walked, barefoot, over to a cabinet, pulling out a mug, and turning away from her for a second. When he turned back, he handed her a steaming mug of coffee, that same lazy grin on his lips.

Hannah took the mug between both hands, pulling it up to her nose, taking a deep breath and sighing.

“Some things never change,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable. Roam around. I’m gonna go grab a shirt.”

Hannah sipped her coffee, taking Sam at his word and peeking into the two closed doors she found in the hallway. One was a half bath with square, modern décor and blue walls. Behind the other door was a stairway down. She shrugged, walking into the living room and finding a staircase leading up. She started up the deep wood steps, looking toward the railing and almost running into the now fully clothed Sam.

He laughed, a deep amused sound she hadn’t realized she missed. “Alright, well let’s go pick you out a room.” As they rounded the bend, he gestured toward the room at the end of the hall. From the open door she could make out an enormous bed with a blue and green flannel bedspread. Hannah smiled behind his back. “That’s my room,” he said, unnecessarily. “I think you’ll like this one,” he said, turning to a closed white door.

He pulled the door open and she grinned up at him. The walls were a pale, muted green. Something she would call a light sage. The bedspread was a deeper sage with a pattern of pretty yellow flowers on the antique four poster bed. “Perfect,” she said, stepping in and noticing the window with a view of the front of the property. There were two white dressers that matched the bed and an actual real-full sized antique vanity with three paneled, scallop topped mirrors and a small stool with a yellow cushion.

“I thought my sisters would like it and come see me more often,” Sam said, leaning against the doorway.

“They’re barely out of their teens,” Hannah said, remembering their toothless little six-year old twin faces when she and Sam would be charged with babysitting them when they turned sixteen. “boys are much more important.”

“Bite your tongue,” Sam grimaced, making Hannah smile. “Want me to go grab your stuff?” he asked, looking completely at ease while she felt anxiety creeping in again.

“No, thanks. I’ll get it later. I didn’t mean to take you away from your work and stuff.”

“It’s no problem, Hannah,” he said, seriously. “But I’ll let you settle in. I have some stuff I need to get done. I’ll see you at dinner,” he said, backing out of the room.

--

Hannah hauled her bags up the steps, took a long hot shower, and fell onto the bed, staring tiredly at the ceiling. Her night of not sleeping was finally setting in and her eyes felt heavy. That coupled with the comfort of finally feeling like she was settled someplace safe and she drifted off to sleep.

She woke up several hours later to the sound of pots and pans banging around in the kitchen below. A loud rumbling in her stomach had her throwing on a pair of leggings and an old, stretched-out grey sweatshirt that hung half way down her thighs.

When she rounded the bend to the kitchen, she found Sam with his back to her, steadily chopping something on a butcher block. He was freshly showered with his hair still damp and dressed in a black and grey flannel shirt and jeans.

“Coffee is fresh,” he said, without turning around.

Hannah brought her mug over to the pot and poured a fresh cup, pulling herself up to be seated on the counter.

Sam suddenly stopped chopping and turned fully toward her. “Want to talk about it?”

Hannah shrugged a shoulder. “Not especially.”

“Alright,” Sam said, turning to drop the chopped red, yellow, green, and orange peppers into a frying pan on the stove.

Hannah watched Sam move around the kitchen with a steady, fluid motion. She wondered if he cooked often. For only himself? That seemed like a lot of effort for nothing. But maybe he had someone in his life. The idea hit her unexpectedly. Did Sam have a wife? Not likely. She would have run into her at some point. A girlfriend? He was a very attractive man. And he had become successful. It was very likely that he had someone he shared his life with.

“I can practically hear those gears turning, Han,” Sam said, not having turned toward her. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Hannah shrugged. “Nothing. Everything. The usual.”

Sam chuckled, pouring dark whole wheat pasta into a pot of boiling water. “So I heard you got some crazy big job up in that big city of yours.”

Hannah smiled. “Been checking up on me, have you?”

“Your parents love talking about you. Always have.”

Hannah felt guilt settle like a pit in her stomach. They hadn’t seen her in so long and there she was, hiding from them in her old boyfriend’s kitchen. “Yeah, I know. They have a tendency to exaggerate though. It is a great company, mind you. But I am just a personal assistant.”

“To the CEO,” Sam said, stirring the spaghetti but glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah. But it is really just a glorified secretary job. But there is room for advancement in a company like this. If I can stick it out.”

“Word is Elliott Micheals is a real piece of work.”

Hannah looked down at her hands, feeling torn. Like she should defend him. But defend him why? Because they had had sex? That didn’t make him any less of a pain in the ass to have to deal with. The rumors about him were true, regardless of how good of a lover he was.

“He is,” she said, filling her coffee cup again, noticing Sam’s raised eyebrow and smiling at it.

A comfortable silence stretched as Sam strained the spaghetti and placed it on two plates. He scooped the cooked vegetables and a small amount of red sauce on top of each and brought them to the table. He gestured for her to sit and he served her a salad of at least four different kinds of leafy greens and then filled her wine glass with chilled white wine.

Hannah toyed with her salad, pouring some homemade balsamic vinegar on it and trying to determine what the greens were. She wasn’t particularly hungry any longer even though everything looked like something out of a cookbook.

Sam had already worked his way through half of his salad when he let out a short sigh. She looked up, surprised. Sam wasn’t one for frustration.

“Eat something,” he said, gesturing with his fork toward his own salad.

“It looks amazing,” she said, guiltily.

“Hannah,” Sam said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “you look like you’re wasting away.”

Hannah lowered her eyes to her food. What was wrong with her? She had always had an impressive appetite. She had always had the curves to prove it. But being overworked and stressed and stalked by some random whackjob was really weighing on her and she never really felt hungry anymore. She knew she had been losing weight. But she didn’t think it was overly obvious. She had always carried a few extra pounds she could use to shed.

“I just lost a little weight,” she defended herself. “I’ve been really busy.”

“Bull,” Sam said, sipping his wine. “you’ve lost like twenty pounds at least. That’s a lot of friggen weight, Han. Look, I don’t know what has been going on and I am not going to pry, but I know you. I know something is really wrong. And whatever it is has been making you sick. And you’re running away from it,” he reached out suddenly, his wide, rough and calloused palm rested on her forearm. “but whatever it is, you’re free from it here so relax. Eat. Ease up on the coffee. Get some rest. Those bags are impressive.”

Hannah smiled. “Maybe I’m just getting ugly. Geez,” she laughed.

“You’ll always be gorgeous. Now eat.”

And she did. Two helpings worth and then she dove into the ice cream that he claimed was homemade. She decided to not allow herself to realize that that must mean it was made with goat milk, because that was never a type of food she could get into. But the rich, real vanilla mixed with dark, sweet raspberries was too good to pass up on.

Sam lounged in his chair, watching her with a smile. “Now that’s the Hannah I remember. So any plans while you stay here? Do you ever plan on heading into town?”

Hannah stared into her almost empty bowl, all creamy whiteness with tiny dark spots and swirls of a pinkish purple. She had left the note informing EM that she wouldn’t be returning for two weeks. Was she even planning of staying in Stars Landing the entire time? She wasn’t sure. If she stayed two weeks, there was almost no way she could avoid going into town… and talking to her parents.

In all honesty, she just hadn’t thought it out at all. What was running away for two weeks going to do anyway? When she went back, the same problems were going to be waiting for her. Ricky’s cage would be right where she had left it, empty, on the kitchen counter. A sick, lead feeling settled in her stomach at that thought. What would anyone even want with an aging guinea pig? Were they just going to kill him? Or keep him as a pet of their own; some sick psychopathic person holding onto a stolen pet trophy of terror they inflicted.

Hannah rubbed absently at the tension building at the base of her neck. No, she couldn’t just camp out in Sam’s sister’s bedroom and then go back to her life as if nothing had happened. She could feel her skin crawl at the idea of stepping foot into her apartment.

Mabye she could move. She had a decent amount of money stashed away already in just a few months. It would certainly be enough to use as first month rent and security deposit. She could be more cautious about giving out her new address. Take roundabout ways back to her apartment so she wouldn’t as easily be found. Fine a place with a twenty-four hour doorman. Buy a security system.

“Earth to Hannah,” Sam’s voice broke into her reverie.

She looked up at his one raised eyebrow, the slight quirk of his lips. Always amused, always patient Sam. “Sorry. I drifted off for a minute. I honestly don’t know. I didn’t think it out fully. I’ll let you know when I have made up my mind about how long I’m going to infringe on your hospitality. And if I’m gonna let anyone know I’m here.”

“Alright,” Sam said, standing and collecting their bowls and glasses.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, walking toward the hallway. “I just need a good night sleep to get my head together I guess.”