The One She Left Behind (Harlequin Super Romance) (8 page)

“No, ma’am.” The attorney came to his feet and hitched up his pants. “Again, if you have any questions, just get in touch with my office. Your mother has my number.”

While Ruth saw Farley to the door, and Bill and May left the room, Savannah sat quietly clutching the envelope in her grasp. She wanted to take shelter in her old bedroom for another long cry, yet she had too many burning questions, and she didn’t want to wait a minute longer for the answers.

Once she heard the front door close, Savannah called to her mother in case she, too, decided to escape the inquest. Ruth entered the living room, head held high, and reclaimed the chair she’d been occupying a few moments before.

Savannah decided to get right to the point. “Why are you selling the farm?”

Ruth focused on some unknown point across the room. “Because I got a good offer and those are hard to come by these days.”

She didn’t buy that for a minute. “But this place has been in your family for at least three generations. How could you let it go to someone like Wainwright?”

Ruth raised a thin brow. “Do you plan to live here?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then why would I want to keep it if I have no one to pass it on to?”

Obviously her mother didn’t believe her daughter would produce any offspring. “Where are you going to live?”

Ruth twisted her wedding ring round and round her finger. “I’m moving back to Knoxville. Bill and May are heading home tonight and they’ll be back first of next week with a trailer to get what furniture I plan to take. I’ll move in temporarily with May until I find a place of my own. I have enough money to buy another house in Knoxville, or maybe I’ll just rent an apartment in a retirement community.”

Savannah couldn’t fathom her mother residing in senior-citizen housing with no garden to tend to. Yet she saw no use in arguing with Ruth Greer. Once she had her mind set on something, no one could persuade her to do otherwise. “Fine. By the way, what does Wainwright plan to do with the house?”

“He’s probably going to tear it down since he’s already leased the land.”

The hint of satisfaction in Ruth’s voice, the thought that the place that held many good memories would soon be gone, rendered Savannah momentarily speechless. “How can you be so unaffected by that? You and Dad made a life here. It’s as if you’re okay with destroying all the memories.”

Her mother’s expression went bitter as brine. “He can burn it down, for all I care. Not every memory tied to this place is a good one.”

Savannah recalled her aunt’s assertions that life had
been hard on the farm following their mother’s death. But she couldn’t imagine it had been so terrible that Ruth would want to demolish the place. “I can certainly understand how horrible the memories of Grandmother’s and Dad’s illnesses must be, but surely you have some good ones, too. I remember you talking about playing hide-and-seek with May in the attic and Dad courting you on the front porch.”

“I see no need to live in the past,” Ruth said.

“I see no need to raze a perfectly good house,” Savannah countered. “And what if you change your mind and decide to come back?”

Ruth raised her ever-present emotional wall and stood. “I would never do that. The faster I can get away from this place, the better. It’s poison.”

Poison?

May breezed into the room, interrupting the uncomfortable conversation. “Ruth, can you tell me where Floyd kept his collections? I thought we’d go ahead and take them back with us now and anything else you’d like us to take.”

Ruth avoided making eye contact with Savannah as she said, “I’ll show you where everything is.”

The opportunity to prod her mother further might have escaped Savannah now, but before she left for Chicago, she was determined to have some answers to Ruth’s cryptic statement. But she did have one more question she needed answered immediately.

She hurried into the hall and found her mother climbing the stairs behind May. “Any idea who’ll be leasing
the land from Wainwright?” she asked, although she suspected she already knew the answer.

Her suspicions were confirmed when her mother glanced back and simply stated, “Sam McBriar.”

H
E COULD HEAR THE ECHO
of rapid footsteps in the metal building, but he couldn’t see who was about to pay him a visit since he was on his back beneath a truck. More than likely, he was about to be summoned by his child.

As soon as the steps stopped, Sam asked, “Is it time for supper, kiddo?”

“It’s time for us to have a talk.”

That voice sure as heck didn’t belong to Jamie, but he recognized it all the same. He turned his head slightly to see a pair of strappy high heels exposing pink-painted toenails. And above that, some really nice ankles. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the legs attached to those ankles unless he came out from under the truck. From the sound of Savannah’s tone, he might better stay put. But if he made up some lame excuse and sent her on her way, he’d still have to face the music at some point in time. Besides, he wanted to see her, even if she had her panties in a twist.

“Sam, are you coming out here or am I going to have to drag you out by your boots?”

Like she was strong enough to do that. And speaking of panties… “I have to ask you something first. What are you wearing?”

“This is no time for sex talk.”

“That wasn’t what I had in mind, but now that you mention it—”

“I’m running out of patience.”

And he was running out of excuses. “I’m just saying that if you’re wearing a dress, you might want to walk backward a ways if you value your modesty.”

A few seconds ticked off, she muttered, “Oh,” and took his advice.

Sam slid from beneath the truck, stood and grabbed a rag from the nearby workbench before facing her. While he made a futile attempt to wipe the grease from his hands, he managed a quick look at her clothes. She had on a pale blue sleeveless dress that hit her right above the knees and highlighted her curves like a neon sign that flashed Touch Me. Most would consider the outfit decent enough, except to a guy who was having some pretty indecent thoughts.

“How did you find me?” he asked.

“One of your workers pointed me in the right direction. I didn’t realize you employed so many men.”

“Do I need to call them all in here as reinforcements?” When she glared at him, he decided to test the stormy waters. “Look, if you’re still pissed off at me about last night—”

“That’s not why I’m here, although I’m still not too thrilled with your game-playing.”

Little did she know, this wasn’t a game. Not in the way she assumed. “Then what did I do this time?”

She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “You lied to me.”

Here it comes.
“About what?”

“My mother’s decision to sell the farm.”

“It wasn’t my place to mention it.”

“Even though you’re going to lease the land from Wainwright?”

No way out except to tell the truth. “It doesn’t matter one bit to you what I do, so I saw no reason to say anything about it. And that means I didn’t lie.”

She pointed an accusing finger at him. “You lied by omission.”

“Not really. The farm is your mother’s business and leasing farmland is my business.”

She rolled her eyes. “Haven’t you heard of common courtesy? Oh, wait. I forgot you don’t know the meaning of courtesy.”

He was on the verge of getting as riled as she was. “When have I ever not been courteous to you?”

She tapped her fingertip against her chin and pretended to think. “Aside from last night, I believe I remember something about a scene in a diner twelve years ago when you treated me like dirt.”

No surprise she would hurl that little bit of history in his face. “Oh, yeah? I recall you failing to tell me you decided to leave Mississippi to go to college, which makes you a hypocrite,
Savvy
.”

He could see pure fury building in her dark eyes. “I didn’t lie to you, Sam. I couldn’t find the time to tell you I was going out of state before that day in Stan’s. I wasn’t even sure I’d been accepted to Northwestern until the day before.”

“And that’s lying by omission,” he said, throwing her own words back at her.

“That didn’t give you the right to talk to me the way you did. I still remember every horrible thing you said in front of half the town.”

So did Sam, and he regretted a lot of it, but not enough to take all the blame. “After you waltzed into the diner and dropped one helluva bomb on me, how did you expect me to react?”

“Like someone who cared for me, but apparently I’d been wrong about that. If you care for someone, you don’t call them a selfish bitch.”

Damn, he had said that, and at the time, he’d meant it. At the time, he’d been an eighteen-year-old kid with some seriously wounded pride. “I apologize for the bitch part.”

She looked exasperated. “But not the selfish part?”

He tossed the rag onto the workbench. “You didn’t care how anyone felt about you leaving, including your father, so I’d say that made you fairly selfish.”

She balled her fists at her sides like she wanted to slug him. “You knew I had to get away from this place. I was drowning.”

And I was holding you down,
he wanted to say, but that same old pride prevented him from doing so. “Right. You were drowning. You had bigger dreams than a place like Placid could handle. I might not have gotten it then, but I get it now. And don’t forget that you called me a heartless bastard.”

“I apologize to your dad for the bastard part.”

Okay, maybe he deserved that, but she had no idea what her decision had done to his heart. And he’d carry that secret to his grave, because fact was, she’d leave
again, just like before, no matter what he confessed. “Glad we cleared that up. Anything else?”

She nailed him with another defiant glare. “Yes. Tell Wainwright you changed your mind about leasing the land.”

That came as no surprise. “Sorry, can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. It’s my understanding you haven’t signed the papers yet.”

“That’s right, but I will sign them.”

“Just to punish me?”

Time to set her straight. “To keep a promise I made to your dad.”

“Promise?” She sounded doubtful.

“Yeah. He asked me to take care of the place after he was gone.”

She looked more than a little confused. “I don’t understand why he would entrust it to you of all people. I remember a time when he didn’t think all that highly of you.”

That was just enough to set him off. “There’s a whole hell of a lot you don’t know about your dad.”

Savannah looked madder than a wet hen. “And you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was just the man to enlighten her. “Did you know that Floyd’s folks never owned one acre because they didn’t have a damn dime to their name? Did you know they spent their whole lives working for someone else, your dad included, until he married your mom? All he ever wanted was a place to call his own. That farm meant more to him than anything aside from his family. He needed to know that someone would take good
care of the place. Like it or not, sweetheart, that someone is me.”

“No, I don’t like it but—”

When he took a step toward her, she took a step back. “If you weren’t so pigheaded you’d realize that your father’s dying wish is more important than your hatred of me.”

She turned from steamed to sophisticated in about two seconds. “I suppose it’s not my place to question my father’s decision. But you’re very wrong about one thing. I don’t hate you.”

“What did you say?” He asked not because he hadn’t heard her, he just didn’t trust his ears.

“I said I don’t hate you. Hate, like love, requires committing to strong emotions. I personally don’t feel one way or the other about you.”

He wasn’t sure which was worse—her hating him or not caring at all. “You felt something last night. Maybe it wasn’t hate or love but I’d bet the farm it had a lot to do with lust.”

She propped one hand on her hip, reminding him of Miss Ellie Wagner, his second-grade spinster school-teacher, only a lot better looking. “
You
talked about the pond and no, I didn’t feel anything other than embarrassed when I remembered what a fool I’d been. But I’m not that malleable teenager anymore, Sam. You can’t mold me into being that starry-eyed girl who used to jump whenever you called.”

He released a rough laugh. “Mold you? I could just as soon mold a feather pillow out of a cinder block. Be
sides, I’ve never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“You’re trying to make me be happy that my father, for whatever reason, decided to declare you his surrogate son. You’re trying to make me admit that I’m still somehow attracted to you when all I want to do is get out of here.”

He hooked a thumb behind him. “There’s the door. No one’s tying you down. But first, I have one more thing to say.”

“Go for it. Just make sure you say everything because I don’t intend to have another real conversation with you again.”

And that was probably best. The more they talked, the more they risked wounding each other with words. He didn’t want or need that misery again. But he wouldn’t let her leave before he called her bluff. “You know what your problem is, Savannah? You’re afraid.”

“Afraid?” This time she laughed. “Of what? You? That’s ludicrous.”

“Then why the hell are you backed up against the table?”

She looked around like she hadn’t realized where she was at the moment. When she moved her hands from the death grip she had on the edge of the bench, she knocked over a bottle of tire cleaner. And when she tried to right it, she knocked it over again. After finally setting the bottle straight, she studied the cement floor and said, “Are you through interrogating me?”

“Not yet.” He moved right in front of her, leaving only a few inches between them. “Maybe you’re not afraid
of me, but you’re afraid of being around me because you know there’s still something going on between us. I don’t like it any more than you do, but it’s there.”

“Speak for yourself.”

She asked for it, she was going to get it—the truth. “Okay, I’ll be the adult here and admit it. The minute I laid eyes on you a few minutes ago, I wanted to run my hands up that dress.”