The One She Left Behind

May rinsed the glasses, set them on the drainboard and then wiped her hands on a dish towel. “People deal with their grief in different ways, Savannah. Ruth has seen a lot of loss and hardship in her lifetime. First, our daddy died when she was only ten and I was just a baby. Then Mama had only been married to Papa Don a couple of years before she went to be with the angels.”

Oddly, Savannah had never met her stepgrandfather and her mother had rarely mentioned him at all. She didn’t even learn about his passing until her parents announced they were moving back to the farm in Placid. “I agree, losing two parents at such a young age is more loss than any child should have to endure.” But as far as she was concerned, that didn’t excuse a mother’s unexplained hostility directed at her own child.

May claimed the chair across from Savannah and folded her hands on the cloth-covered surface. “Ruth practically raised me all by herself until she turned seventeen and married Floyd. When they decided to move to Knoxville, she took me with them. Lord knows she didn’t have to do that when she could’ve foisted me off on Granny Kendrick, God rest her soul, and that’s if she made it into heaven.”

Savannah couldn’t help but smile when she thought about all the legendary stories involving her eccentric great-grandmother. “Why didn’t you stay here with Don?”

May shook her head. “It was a sad state of affairs. To hear Ruth tell it, he took to the bottle after Mama died. He spent most of his days drunk and he wasn’t fit to take care of me, not that I remember much about him or that time since I was so young. I’m not sure he would’ve kept me around even if he had been sobered up. He never paid me much mind, both before and after we moved away. In fact, I spoke to him maybe twice in the years before he died. If I asked about him, your mama refused to say anything one way or the other.”

Savannah suspected there could be a lot more to the stepfather story. “I realize how much you appreciate Mother, May, and I do understand why you would. But that doesn’t explain her attitude toward me.”

May straightened and sent Savannah a disapproving look. “Like I said, she’s been through a lot. She had to get me raised before she even thought about having a baby of her own. That didn’t happen until years after I was grown and gone.” Her expression softened. “She was so happy when you were born, and so was your daddy. They’d waited so long for you.”

How well Savannah knew that. She’d been the only girl in Placid High who had parents in their mid-fifties. But that didn’t really matter, especially where her father had been concerned. He’d always seemed so young for his age, and that made his passing even more difficult to accept.

Feeling a sudden onset of fatigue as well as utter sorrow, Savannah feigned a yawn. “It’s been a long day. I think I’ll go up to my room and read awhile before I turn in.” And attempt to check her cell phone, although coverage in the area was sketchy at best. That was okay. She hadn’t had a real vacation from work in years. They could do without her for a couple of weeks.

May reached across the table and patted Savannah’s hand. “Tomorrow will be another long day, too, because I’m sure you’ll see your old friends. Rachel and Jessica are still around and, of course, there’s Sam—”

“I’ve already seen him,” Savannah said abruptly, before adding, “I stopped by the diner for something to drink and he was coming in when I was going out.”

“I hear he’s making a good living with the farm,”

May continued. “In fact, he just bought a brand-new truck with all the bells and whistles.”

As if she should care what Sam was driving these days. Besides, she’d already seen that new truck, and she hadn’t been impressed. “How nice.”

“Did you know he married the Clements girl?” May asked, as if determined to cram Sam’s life down Savannah’s throat.

She’d come by that knowledge after she’d left Placid, and it had hurt more than she’d cared to admit. Darlene Clements had been the girl from one county over whom Sam had taken to the prom instead of her. The same girl who’d relentlessly pursued him throughout their high school years. Obviously she’d caught him. “I’d heard that.”

May sighed. “And their little girl is as precious as a puppy.”

That she hadn’t heard. “I didn’t realize he had a daughter.”

“She’s about six now,” May added. “And it’s such a shame that she comes from a broken home. Divorce is a terrible thing for a child to go through.”

Divorce?

Savannah didn’t know which shocked her more—that Sam and Darlene’s marriage had ended, or that he’d fathered a child. “When did they split up?”

“A couple of years ago, maybe longer. Didn’t your mama tell you?”

“She never tells me anything, May.” And neither had her old girlfriends, but she’d only sporadically spoken to them over the past few years.

Savannah scooted back from the table and stood before she had to endure any more unexpected news. “Tell Mother I’ll see her in the morning.”

May looked completely dismayed. “You should tell her.”

Yes, she should, and she supposed she could make it brief. “You’re right.”

After giving her aunt another hug, Savannah left the kitchen and returned to the living room, where she found her uncle watching a sitcom rerun. “Where’s Mother?” she asked when she discovered Ruth had disappeared.

Bill put down the television remote and smiled. “She’s in her room, sugar. She said she has one of her sick headaches.”

Savannah had no doubt she’d contributed to that headache. “Before I retire for the night, do you and Aunt May need anything? Extra towels or linens?”

“Your mama saw to that when we came in yesterday. Now you scoot along and get some rest. And just so you know, the weatherman’s calling for storms tonight.”

An appropriate ending to a perfectly dreadful evening, Savannah decided.

As soon as she doled out a hug for her uncle, she grabbed up her bags, scaled the stairs and entered her old bedroom at the end of the hall. She closed the door behind her before turning to survey the place where she’d spent many a night during her teen years, talking on the phone for hours with her girlfriends, and Sam. Everything still looked much the same as it had when she’d left for college. The pink-and-blue patchwork quilt still covered the double bed. The shelves flanking the floral-cushioned window seat still held all the mementos of her youth—withered corsages, movie ticket stubs, debate trophies.

After setting her bags on the cedar chest at the end of the bed, she walked to the bureau and removed a favorite snapshot from the mirror. The photo—taken on the beach in Gulfport—featured the inseparable group of friends known to their fellow students as “the six-pack.” Best buddies Chase Reed and Jessica Keller sat side by side on the sand in the middle of the group. Childhood sweethearts Rachel Wainwright and Matt Boyd had claimed the spot on the right, Rachel’s head resting on Matt’s shoulder. And of course, she and Sam sat to the left, holding each other tightly, Sam’s beat-up guitar at their feet. They’d easily assumed the role as Placid High’s designated “hottest couple.” But it hadn’t been a farce. It had been real.

How young they all looked. How hopeful and ready to take on the world. Forever friends, they’d vowed. Then everything had changed after graduation. Still, the picture signified that she’d seen more than her share of good times in Placid. But those fond reminiscences were all a part of the distant past, and that’s where they would stay. Yet at the sound of rain pelting the window, another memory came back to Savannah, as bright as the flash of lightning on the horizon.

A surprise midnight visit one misty fall evening. A few well tossed pebbles to garner her attention. A trellis perfect for climbing. One love-struck girl who still believed in happily-ever-after. One teenage boy driven by raging hormones. An easily removed screen and a kiss so hot it could have set the roof on fire.

Sam had begged her to come inside, but she hadn’t allowed it. At least not that particular night.?…

All in the past, Savannah kept reminding herself as she hauled her suitcase onto the bed and began to unpack. No good ever came of rehashing old history, her mother had told her time and again. She couldn’t agree more, but that didn’t keep her from remembering. That didn’t prevent the sudden sense of sadness when she turned her attention to another framed photograph resting on the nightstand, the one of her and her father at the Tennessee State Fair when she was eight years old.

Remorse hit her like a blow to the heart. She should have come home more often. She should have insisted that he come to visit her in Chicago even if her mother had refused to make the trip. She should have known something was wrong during their last conversation when he’d told her several times how proud he was of her, how much he loved her and then asked her to forgive her mother. She should have been there to hold his hand when he’d died.

Savannah couldn’t contain the sorrow any more than she could stop the storm. With the photo clutched against her chest, she stretched out on her back across the bed and released all her pent-up anguish. The tears fell hot against her cheek as she mourned the loss of her father and her inability to earn her mother’s love. She grieved the innocence she no longer possessed. She even allowed herself to cry for all the promises Sam had broken, and most important…for what might have been.

CHAPTER TWO

THE CROWD OF MOURNERS gathered around the gravesite was as thick as the Delta humidity, leading Sam to believe well over half of Placid’s population had come to say goodbye to Floyd Greer. If things had turned out differently all those years ago, he might’ve been sitting with the family with his arm around Savannah, comforting her. Instead, he stood several feet away, on the outside looking in.

Not long after the minister delivered the final prayer, Savannah appeared from beneath the green funeral tent, flanked by her aunt and uncle. When he noticed Ruth Greer trailing behind the trio, Sam figured the problems between mother and daughter hadn’t disappeared, and that was a damn shame. His own mother hadn’t stuck around long enough to build any kind of relationship with him, good, bad or indifferent. At times like these, people needed someone to lean on—except maybe Savannah.

She held her head high as she accepted condolences from the townsfolk, forcing a smile every now and then. Although she looked composed on the surface, Sam knew better. She’d always been inclined to keep her emotions bottled up inside so no one could see her suffering. Not that he was one to talk. But with Savannah, things had been different. He had been different. They’d served as each other’s sounding board and leaning shoulder from the moment she’d arrived in Placid.

And that had all ended a long time ago…?.

“Done any fishin’ lately, Mac?”

Only one person ever called him Mac. Sam turned to find Chase Reed standing behind him, dressed in a civilian suit instead of the Army-issue uniform he’d been wearing the last time he’d seen his best friend over a half-dozen years ago.

Sam grinned and offered his hand. “I’ll be damned, Reed. I heard they’d finally let you out, but I didn’t believe it.”

Chase shook Sam’s hand and smiled, but it didn’t form all the way. “I’d had about all the active duty I could take.”

Sam imagined he had. Three tours in a war zone would be more than most men could take, and the stress showed in Chase’s features. He had a definite edge about him now, unlike the kid who’d been the happy-go-lucky golden boy.

Sam felt damn guilty that he hadn’t stayed in touch nearly enough during Chase’s absence, but he’d never been great at correspondence. “How long have you been back?” he asked.

“For a couple of weeks.”

Looked like his friend was punishing him for that lack of communication. “And you didn’t call and let me know you were in town?”

“I had to help Dad clean out the old sharecropper cabin behind the house so I’d have a place to stay.” Chase shook his head. “Pretty sad, living at home at the age of thirty-one.”

Sam could relate. “I’ve been living at home since I left college and even after I married.” Just one more thing that hadn’t set too well with his ex-wife.

“Sorry to hear it didn’t work out between you and Darlene,” Chase said.

“It was just one of those things.” One of those things that Sam sometimes regretted because of the impact on his daughter. “When you get a chance, you need to stop by and see my kid. She’s going to be with me all week.”

Chase barked out a laugh. “I’m still trying to picture you with a kid. Is she here now?”

A funeral was no place for a six-year-old, as far as Sam was concerned. “She’s back at the farm with Hank Anderson’s girl.”

Chase frowned. “Hank’s got a kid that’s old enough to babysit?”

Sam shrugged out of his sports coat and draped it over his arm, finding little relief from the midmorning heat. “Yeah. Hank’s two years older than us and his daughter was born right after he graduated.”

“Man, that makes me feel old.” Chase shook his head and studied the ground. “Time passes way too fast.”

Sam dealt with that issue every time he looked at his child. “I know what you mean. One minute, Jamie’s in diapers and the next, she’s a hell-on-wheels kindergartner and a natural-born flirt. No telling what I’ll be facing when she’s sixteen and she discovers boys.”

“That serves you right, Mac,” Chase said. “Now you’ll know firsthand why Savannah’s parents used to give you hell when you dated her.”

Sam suddenly remembered where he was and why. “It’s going to be tough, not having Floyd around. He was one of the good guys.”

“Yeah, he was.” Chase remained silent for a time before he added, “I heard Wainwright’s bank has been calling in loans on some of the farms. The greedy bastard.”

That was a subject that made Sam as angry as Chase sounded. Edwin Wainwright was the biggest SOB in three counties, and a rich one at that. “You heard right. That’s why I took my banking business elsewhere when I started upgrading the farm.”

Chase’s expression turned to stone as he focused on some point behind Sam. “Speaking of bastards,” he muttered.

After facing the mourners again, Sam immediately caught sight of the reason for his friend’s caustic tone. Dalton Wainwright, the son of the man who’d dubbed himself the king of Placid, had stopped to visit with Savannah. And Dalton’s wife, the former Jessica Keller, stood by his side.

Not everything had changed, Sam decided. During their high school years, Chase had always despised Dalton Wainwright. Obviously he still did.

“I can’t believe she’s still married to him, and I can’t believe she has a kid by him, either,” Chase said, more malice in his tone. “He didn’t deserve her back then, and he doesn’t deserve her now.”

Yep, his friend’s hatred still burned bright as a bonfire. “Have you talked to Jess since you’ve been back?”

Chase kept his gaze trained on Dalton in a menacing glare. “He won’t let her out of his sight, and if I came less than two feet from him, I’d kill him.”

The comment caught the attention of Pearl Allworth, who was standing nearby. She scowled at Chase but Sam noticed a gleam in the town gossip’s rheumy eyes, like a starving woman who’d just been tossed a prime steak. He also noticed the glare Dalton leveled on Chase as he led Jess away. A look that said, “She’s mine.”

Sam decided it would be best if he diverted Chase’s attention before he took off after Dalton and started a scene to feed the rumor mill for months. He centered his attention on Matt Boyd, who’d stopped to speak with Savannah. “Too bad Rachel’s not here. Matt said she wasn’t feeling well this morning. I suspect I know what ails her. She’s got a bun in the oven.”

Chase continued to stare at Jess as she headed away. “Nah. Not after all these years. Matt’s too busy playing the county cow doctor instead of breeding his wife.”

Sam grinned. “That might be the case, but I’ve still got a gut feeling Rachel’s pregnant.”

“And I think he’s more concerned about Gabe Wooley’s band of heifers than making his own baby,” Chase said. “Twenty bucks says she has a virus.”

Sam took Chase’s offered hand and shook on the deal. “You’re on.”

They shared a laugh before Sam noticed Savannah heading toward the black limousine parked at the curb. When their gazes briefly met, she immediately looked away, but he continued to watch her until she disappeared into the car.

“Savannah still looks good, Mac,” Chase said.

Time to play ignorant. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You’re lying.”

Yeah, he was. “Okay, maybe she hasn’t changed much, but neither has her attitude toward me. Not that I give a damn. I have just as much right to resent her, too.”

“Give it a rest, McBriar,” Chase said. “We were all kids back then. You need to get over the past.”

Savannah wasn’t inclined to bury their past any more than he was. She’d proven that yesterday when she’d run out on him again at the diner. She was proving it right now by pretending he wasn’t there. Not a problem. He wasn’t in the mood to reconnect with her, either. But he did have to admit she still looked great. Really great. He could admire her from a distance, and leave it at that.

Chase patted him on the back. “Why don’t you come with me to the Greers’ to pay our respects. That way you can get a better look at her.”

So much for not being obvious in his admiration. “You go ahead without me. Right now I need to get back to Jamie. I’ll make a point to look in on the family later this evening.”

Just for grins, he also planned to have a talk with Savannah to satisfy his curiosity. To learn if she’d gotten what she’d wanted all along—a life that hadn’t included him. And he knew exactly when and where he’d find her.

SAVANNAH LOVED THIS TIME of day, right after the sun had set over the fields and the summer air had cooled to a tolerable temperature. Initially when they’d moved to Placid, she’d despised the flat plane of the land that seemed to go on for miles. She’d hated that so many trees had been cut down and plowed under for the sake of agriculture. She’d detested everything about the area, until the day she’d discovered the small bridge rising over the dried-up creek bed that separated her parents’ farm from the McBriars’ acreage. A welcome break in the barren landscape where the live oaks had been spared. Her very own private oasis, both then and now.

Nothing had really changed, except for the new wooden planks beneath her feet. Most likely Sam had taken it upon himself to make sure the bridge remained solid and stable with his own two hands. He’d always been good with his hands.

Savannah ran her palm over the message that she’d carved into the railing years ago—Sam and Savannah Forever. A typical and foolish teenage pronouncement of love. Or maybe for Sam it had simply been lust. Without warning, the image of their secret meeting place hidden by the nearby copse of woods filtered into her mind. A place where she and Sam had learned so much about each other, both physically and emotionally. Especially physically. Many times they’d lain together on a blanket, experimenting and exploring each other eagerly, but not quite going “all the way” for a solid two years. Then came the night of her seventeenth birthday when, alone in her bedroom, he’d said “Please” and she’d said “Yes.”

After she heard the rustle of leaves followed by footsteps, Savannah turned her attention to her left to discover Sam emerging from behind the curtain of trees, as if she’d somehow psychically summoned him. Yet he wasn’t the lanky boy of yesterday. He’d matured in body with a broader chest and more bulk. Instead of T-shirt and jeans, he wore black dress slacks and a white tailored shirt. He carried a brown paper bag, not the age-worn guitar he’d oftentimes brought with him in their youth. But those cobalt blue eyes still held the power to reel her in like a hummingbird to sugar water.

As Sam approached with a self-assured gait, a sudden, sharp sense of awareness caught Savannah off guard. Her frame went rigid, as if she needed to physically brace against the impact of his presence. She had imagined this moment, dreaded it in some ways. Hoped for it. For years she’d avoided it.

He paused at the end of the bridge and sized her up, much the same as he had the day before in the diner, his expression unreadable. And as he continued on, Savannah struggled for words. Maybe she should offer an apology for being so abrupt yesterday, in spite of the fact he still owed her one for the way he’d treated her years ago. Then again, maybe not. She would be adult, coolly polite, but she wouldn’t grovel.

“Hello,” she said as soon as he stood a few feet from her.

Sam offered her the sack but no greeting. “I’ve been instructed to give you this.”

She took the bag and asked, “What is it?”

“Gracie’s pecan pie.”

Savannah fondly remembered the housekeeper who’d treated her like one of the family. “I can’t believe you still have Gracie.”

“Yeah, I still have Gracie,” he said without even a hint of a smile.

Now what? Bid him goodbye and leave? If she had any sense at all, that’s exactly what she would do. Yet curiosity overcame common sense. “Aunt May told me you had a daughter. What’s her name?”

He streaked a palm over the back of his neck. “Jamie.”

“Congratulations.” If only she could sound more sincere, but the shock over Sam choosing the name they’d planned to give their own child reflected in her tone.

“Still practicing law?”

“Yes,” she said, ignoring the obvious disdain in his tone. “It’s hard work but it has its rewards.”

“I can’t imagine keeping corporate CEOs out of hot water would be all that damn rewarding, so it must be the money.”

Clearly he’d learned she’d chosen corporate law, and apparently he didn’t approve. Not that she cared what he thought about her career choice. “I’ve represented struggling small businesses as well, sometimes pro bono, so it’s not all about the money.”

“If you say so.”

His overt sarcasm drove her need to get away from the bitterness that was almost palpable. “I better go. Mother’s probably wondering where I am.” Then again, probably not. “Give Jim and Gracie my love and let them know I miss them. I didn’t have an opportunity to speak with them at length after the funeral.”

His expression turned stoic as stone. “You could tell them before you run back to Chicago.”

Obviously he wasn’t going to do her any favors or cut her any slack. “I’ll try to stop by for a visit before I leave.” In spite of the possible emotional upheaval, she also wanted to see Sam’s daughter.

“Fine.” Without further hesitation, he turned and headed away, as if he had nothing else to say to her. As if he had no use for her.

She shouldn’t be surprised, nor should she feel anything but relief. But as she started across the bridge toward home, Savannah experienced an overwhelming sense of emptiness, just as she had that day in the diner when they’d ended a close-knit relationship with hurtful words neither could ever take back. She hated the feelings. Hated that he could still strip her emotions bare. Hated him for acting as if nothing had ever existed between them. Hated herself for still caring.

Just as Savannah stepped off the last wooden plank, Sam called her name, stopping her progress. She faced him again and simply answered, “Yes?”

He kept perfectly still while he kept his gaze locked into hers. “Do you regret it now?”

She frowned. “Regret what?”

“Leaving town to get what you wanted, and staying away from your family when they needed you most.”

They meaning her father. She couldn’t disregard the dagger he’d thrust right into the heart of her guilt. Obviously he wanted to hurt her again, and he was doing a fairly good job. “I did what I had to do to make a life for myself, Sam. Maybe you never understood it, but my dad always did.”