Sugar Springs (4 page)

Oh, yeah, this was definitely the Cody who had stormed out of her house years ago, angry at everyone he’d ever met and carrying the world’s largest chip on his shoulder. She’d often wondered how he’d managed to get out of bed every morning with that thing weighing him down.

He seemed to focus and stepped farther into the room, then glanced at the “Please Wait to Be Seated” sign, frowned and headed to an empty booth away from everyone else.
Two seconds after his rear hit the vinyl, his back stiffened and his head rotated slowly in her direction. He recognized her.

Her heartbeat felt as if it had split in two. Half of it galloped at rapid speed, and the other half remained slow and steady, just daring her to try to let his presence matter.

Taking her time, she ignored the inner struggle to smooth the rumpled apron over her too-faded jeans, and headed his way. When she reached the table, a mix of the fresh outdoors and a woodsy cologne tickled her nose. She straightened her spine but remained silent. There wasn’t a single thing coming to mind that she could think to utter.

Get the hell out of town? Go back to the rock you crawled out from under? Please, for the love of God, put me out of my misery and smile at me just once like you used to?

“It’s good to see you again, Lee Ann.” His deep voice jolted her from her own mind, and she berated herself for her last thought. He may have been her friend once, but he wasn’t now.

He flipped over the porcelain cup and she filled it before dropping the menu to the table in front of him.

With a tight smile and making absolutely certain not to make eye contact, she nodded. “Cody. Welcome to the Sugar Springs Diner.” Unintentionally, she let her southern accent drawl out more than usual, mortifying her when she remembered how he’d once liked it when she’d played it up. She concentrated to make sure she spoke normally. “The daily special is attached to the inside of the menu. I’ll give you a minute to decide.”

Without another word, she hurried to the back. She ripped off her apron as soon as the kitchen door closed behind her. The owners—friends of hers—always understood when she had to shift her schedule for photography appointments, and
though she didn’t make a habit out of lying, today seemed a great time to stretch the truth.

Tucking her apron into her cubby, she grabbed her purse, then headed to find Holly Marshall, the youngest of five kids and one of the owners. Holly stood behind the grill, cooking her own breakfast.

“I just remembered I have an early appointment this morning. Can you finish up for me? It’s pretty slow. Only one new customer right now.”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” Holly didn’t take her eyes off the grill as she reached for the pancake batter. “I’ll just take him the special. He hasn’t cracked open the menu—been too busy watching you.”

Lee Ann fought the urge to peek over the prep line but lost. One little peek and yes, menu on the table, coffee untouched, and brown eyes trained on her.

Her toes curled.

As she watched, she realized she recognized the drop of loneliness she’d always seen hidden in the depths of his eyes. Weight pressed down on her. She would not let herself feel guilty for wanting him to have nothing to do with Candy and Kendra. Keeping the status quo would be in the girls’ best interest. They didn’t need someone like him messing things up.

When his gaze shifted, landing briefly on her mouth, she gripped the bar running along the front of the grill. A girl could go all kinds of stupid with all that trained on her. Luckily, she’d learned her lesson years ago. Narrowing her gaze, she made it as clear as possible that she had better things to do. No matter what he was back in town for, she would not be sucked in by his good looks and charm. Not this time.

Prying her fingers from the metal, Lee Ann backed away until she was out of sight of the dining room. Only then was she able to pull a full breath of air into her lungs. She had to get out of there.

She glanced at Holly, remembering her friend had made a comment she hadn’t responded to, but her mind couldn’t come up with whatever the words had been. Instead, she shook her head as if in apology and turned to go. “I’m out of here.”

Cody couldn’t get over the changes in Lee Ann. She’d always been good looking in an innocent, girl-next-door sort of way. Her pointy chin and cute little mouth reminded him of the dolls his third, or maybe fourth, foster-mother had collected. But with her long black hair now short and spiky, and the cute-girl innocence replaced by feminine curves and maturity, she was a gorgeous mix. Half tough, half fragile. He found himself with the strangest urge to discover which half was more dominant.

Something about the look she’d given him from the grill line suggested it was the tough side. And given her delay in returning, he also suspected she was avoiding him.

He couldn’t blame her. Shame rolled through him at the things he’d done. Didn’t matter what the excuse, he’d loved her as much as possible at the time. He shouldn’t have let hatred of himself get in the way to the point that he’d hurt her. He should have just left.

Getting out of her life was supposed to have ensured she reached all her dreams. Instead, he’d been shocked to find she’d never even left town.

He’d made that discovery five years ago when he’d gotten his Doctor of Veterinary Medicine from Purdue. The pride he’d felt upon receiving his degree, and the fact he had no one in his life to share it with, had made him think of Lee Ann. She’d once pulled it out of him that being a veterinarian was his dream. She’d also been the one to convince him that he could do it. Before her, it had merely been a fantasy. So he’d looked her up that day, having zero doubt he’d find her making a huge splash with her photography, but had instead found her still living here.

It had almost been enough to send him back to Tennessee right then and there to shake her and ask why she hadn’t followed her own heart. He’d made it as a vet because of her, because she’d once believed in him. The thought that something had stopped her from attaining her dream too had disturbed him on several levels.

Heading out of town after graduation had been number one on her agenda. They’d planned to go together. She would go to college in Knoxville on a scholarship, and he would work and save until he could attend as well.

Instead she’d done what?

Stayed here and opened a portrait studio? He flipped over the menu in front of him, but didn’t bother opening it, still dwelling on Lee Ann. Portraits were not what she’d loved. She was good at it, sure. He’d spent a couple hours perusing the website he’d found for her studio before he’d committed to this job, and yes, she was very good. But that hadn’t been her goal. She’d once loved landscapes. And animals. And exposing the two together in black and whites. And she’d been brilliant at it.

He couldn’t get over the thought that she’d settled.

As he waited for her to return, he took in the décor of the comfortable restaurant. When he’d lived there his senior year, the diner had been half its current size and run by one of the oldest couples in town. As he and Lee Ann had become friends, it was often where they ended up after school, either for milkshakes with her best friend, Joanie, or he would just hang out there while she worked. She’d been his only bright spot in eighteen years of desolation.

He lifted the coffee to his mouth and took a sip.

Ms. Grayson had caught him that morning after his and Boss’s run and had filled him in that the diner was the place for breakfast. He’d also discovered that ownership had passed down, skipping a generation, but he had excused himself before finding out that Lee Ann still worked there. He preferred to leave the gossip to the residents, but that was one nugget of info he wished he’d stuck around for. Seeing her when he’d come in had screwed with his mind.

He wasn’t ready to see her yet.

He would eventually seek her out. He had to in order to deliver the apology he’d come to give, but he needed to get his feet under him first. He glanced toward the back again, wondering if he should go ahead and broach the idea of them getting together to talk, or if he should just wait. Bring it up another time. Of course, no time was a good time to grovel.

When he still caught no sign of her, he returned to his perusal of the restaurant. From where he sat, the grandchildren had done a good job with it, creating a warm, family atmosphere complete with roaring fireplace in the center and wooden rockers lined up across the front porch. The once-mismatched furniture had been replaced by wooden tables
with cushioned slatted chairs and similarly styled booths. The place remained cozy but no longer quite as small-town unique as it had once been.

He scanned the area again, took in the odd selection of old men dotting the room, the equally eccentric women, most of whom were no longer blatantly staring at him, and had to admit that the base clientele had not altered.

Changing views, he turned from the customers and peered out the large windows gracing the front of the building. He said a silent thanks that at least the new owners hadn’t changed the view.

Even though he’d never felt fully connected to the town, he’d come as close to feeling like he belonged there as he had to anywhere he’d lived. He used to sit in this very spot and look out over the town square and imagine being born to a place like this. A place that actually was his home, instead of somewhere to borrow for only a short time.

He studied the scenery, curious about the changes that had happened over the last decade. The same florist stood across the street, the “Closed” sign turned face out waiting for the day to begin, the bank—shutters drawn—stood next to it, then an empty storefront, and a new salon on the opposite corner. He squinted to bring the salon sign into focus then chuckled softly as he read the name. “Curl Up ’N Dye.”

Then there was the statue standing proudly in the middle of it all.

He couldn’t tell from this distance if it was the one he’d damaged, only repaired, or if they’d commissioned a new one. Either way, emotion clogged his throat as he hoped his actions hadn’t completely ruined the piece of history that had always been a source of pride for the town.

Cody caught sight of a tray from the corner of his eye, and forcing what he hoped to be a welcoming expression, turned back. Only to be surprised to find someone other than Lee Ann smiling down at him.

In a swirl of strong perfume, bold makeup and shoes that seemed to have nothing whatsoever to do with the outfit, a curvy woman slid two plates of eggs, pancakes, and bacon onto the table. Next came syrup and glasses of orange juice. Then the woman herself landed on the bench across from him.

She held out her hand, equipped with cherry-red nails, and she struck him as a person who might draw blood with those daggers if someone didn’t do as she commanded. Bracelets jangled on her wrist as he shook her hand.

“Holly Marshall, part owner of this fine establishment. The youngest owner to be exact.” She winked, her glittery eye shadow flashing at him. “I was apparently a mistake.”

Keeping his eyesight above her chin, he nodded in greeting. “Cody Dalton.”

“You don’t have to tell me who you are, sugar.” She picked up a fork and dug into her food. “Five minutes after you hit town yesterday afternoon I knew your name. Five minutes after that I knew your history.”

Sensing words unnecessary, Cody drizzled warm maple syrup over his plate. As he shoveled a sweetened pancake into his mouth, waiting to hear what the five-minute history lesson had done for her opinion of him, he was swamped by memories. He closed his eyes as his mind rewound to fourteen years earlier. Pearl had always insisted he eat breakfast, the most important meal of the day. More often than not, she would serve pancakes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten
them. He opened his eyes. Probably the morning of the day he’d left town.

Given the gossip no doubt running rampant in town, she and Roy Monroe, his foster parents, would know about his arrival by this point. Not that it mattered. He’d made sure their truck got back to them when he’d left it at the Memphis train station. Months later he’d sent a check to pay for the damage he’d done to the bumper. He owed them nothing now.

He scooped up another bite, but couldn’t keep from drifting back in time again.

It wasn’t as if the whole year he’d spent there had been bad. In fact, most of it had been fairly uneventful. The Monroes had given him chores, like all the other families he’d lived with over the years, but at least there he’d gotten to work with animals. He hadn’t minded getting up mornings to feed the horses and see to the cleaning of their stalls. For some reason he’d always connected better with animals than with humans. Hanging out with them had been almost pleasurable.

He’d come to Sugar Springs right after his seventeenth birthday, after bouncing through other Tennessee counties, so he’d tried to take advantage of the new location and see the change as a fresh chance in his life.

It had lasted until the first day of school.

His reputation followed him, and no one let him forget it. The first thing to go down at school, even though he hadn’t actually been anywhere near the incident, had been blamed on him. Once again, he’d become the troublemaker.