Smoky Mountain Sweethearts

CHAPTER FIVE

OVER THE YEARS, Sam had learned to get out of the way when his mother was scheming. When he saw her on the front porch the next day, conferring seriously with Janet Abernathy as he parked behind her car, he was sure he was the subject of the conversation.

The way they both jumped guiltily as he slammed the door confirmed his suspicion and increased the certainty that he had no desire to know what they were plotting.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he said as he waved the empty containers that had once held the tastiest roast beef his mother had ever made. Since she was a cook from way back, that was saying something. He had his fingers crossed there might be more in the refrigerator. He’d skipped lunch on the off chance that he might get lucky on this visit. “What shenanigans are you up to on this lovely afternoon?”

Avery’s mom cleared her throat. “Well...” She trailed off and shot a “you tell him” look at Sam’s mother.

“Well,” Sam said as he put the empty containers on the porch railing. “Someone hit me.”

“No shenanigans, Sam. We were trying to decide how to retrieve Janet’s car from the Otter Lake trailhead.” His mother’s innocent expression was enough warning that the other shoe would be a doozy. “We hadn’t quite come to a decision, so your arrival is like a wonderful sign, son.” She blinked wide eyes at him, her face the picture of naive motherly love.

And scheming.

“Uh-huh,” Sam muttered as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared up at the second-story window where he could make out Avery’s shadow. “I’m listening.”

Janet followed his stare and then heaved a sigh of relief. “Such a smart boy, Sam. You were always such an intelligent kid. You’ve always understood how to talk to Avery.”

So we’re going with flattery.

Sam propped one foot on the last step. “I believe you shouted at me more than once that I was going to get her killed.” And he might have. He’d been more bravery than smarts growing up. He hoped he was getting a handle on that, but on days like this one, perfectly beautiful, sunny days, when he had nothing better to do than stare into space and wish for something, anything, to happen, he wondered. Ever since he’d sent in his application for the hotshots, he’d done nothing but refresh his email and wish for a distraction.

He glanced up at Avery’s window again. Her shadow was gone.

“Tell me your plan,” he said slowly. “Wait. Let me tell you mine first. You both ride up in Mom’s car, and then Janet drives her own car back. Simple enough.” He didn’t know why he wasted his breath. If they were going with the logical plan, they’d already be on the road.

“Or...” His mother scooted forward in her chair, her expression conspiratorial, as if he was being let in on a big secret. She’d used that on him successfully before, so it was easy enough to avoid her trap.

If he wanted to avoid her trap.

“Or you could take Avery up, get her out of the house, drive through town and hit some old familiar spots,” her mother said as she traced an imaginary route with her finger, “and end up at the trailhead.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Or you could do that.” He pointed at the Cadillac. “In your car. Get lunch on the way up?”

It seemed like a good suggestion. His mother might be the best cook he knew, but she never turned down a reason to eat food someone else cooked.

Avery’s mother reached forward to press her hand to his forearm. “Sammy,” she said, in the same tone she’d used to ask for every favor since he was old enough to haul garbage cans or mow the grass, “she has to get out of that house. I told her that last night. I mean, I made it a threat. Still no change today. She needs time with old friends and people who aren’t old enough to be her mother.” Janet snorted. “And yes, that includes her mother.”

They both watched him closely.

They might be right. If she got out of the house, some of the old Avery color might come back.

That didn’t mean she wanted him to be her chauffeur.

“This is because of the remarks I made about Hendrix last night, isn’t it?” Sam said as he pushed away from the porch, annoyed at himself all over again. He’d known it was an error, but he’d hoped they’d let it slide in the tense aftermath of Avery’s rescue. “You’re matchmaking. You think she won’t see through that?” Since he still hadn’t decided how he felt about the way she’d looked at Brett Hendrix, he wasn’t sure if their plan was bad enough to be safe or bizarre enough to work, so the best option at this point was to destroy it with logic. “She’s a widow. She needs time to figure everything out, and I am going to be leaving Sweetwater soon. I hope.”

Watching his mother’s joy at her scheme fade was painful, but he had to be firm about following his own plans. If not, this restlessness would drive him insane.

“And how many times do I have to say that I don’t need or want a man in my life before you believe me?” Avery said from her spot near the fence separating their houses.

Her mother turned. “I don’t know what either one of you are talking about. I thought someone else might have more luck lighting a fire under you.” Sam had had less opportunity to judge Janet Abernathy’s acting skills, but he almost bought it. “I only want to get my car back.”

Avery shook a key ring in the air, the jingle of keys loud in the peaceful afternoon. “Yeah, me, too. That’s why I came out. Miss Regina, can Mama and I borrow your car or will you give me a ride back to Otter Lake?” Avery smiled. “Then I’ll be happy to treat you both to dinner while Sam goes to do...whatever he’s going to do.”

Sam frowned at her dismissive tone, uncertain how he became the bad guy when all he’d done was return empty dishes in the hope of leaving with full ones. “You afraid to spend time with me, AA? You are falling for me.” He held up both hands. “I get it. I do. But believe me when I say, when I move to Colorado, I can’t be bringing you along. Single guys supposedly have an advantage and I am happy for every advantage.”

The tense silence that followed his dumb words, only meant to tweak Avery’s attitude, was a clue that he’d miscalculated. If he wanted his mother to get with the program and root for him to get this job, mentioning anything that would further delay her plans for his settling down and giving her the grandchild she’d been going on about since before he’d figured out how to talk to a girl without punching her in the arm...that was a mistake.

Did he want her to focus on Avery? He wanted that even less than Avery did.

“What sort of ridiculous policy is that, I’d like to know?” his mother snapped. “That’s discrimination. That’s what that is.”

Sam met Avery’s stare, happy to see the wicked glint in her eyes. She knew his distraction had taken a turn he hadn’t expected.

“I want to speak to your boss about that.” Regina yanked her jacket down. “After you get the job, of course.”

His mother never once doubted his ability to do anything he wanted to do or be anything he wanted to be. Casting doubt on his suitability, even if he had made up most of that, was one way to turn her from worried opponent to supportive ally.

“It’s not a written policy, Mom,” Sam said. It would be illegal even if it was never written. “It’s better, makes the work easier, if the strings are limited.”

Her disgusted huff was loud and clear in the sunny front yard.

“You know, Avery is almost a lawyer,” Janet said slowly. “Didn’t you take a bunch of courses in employment laws or something?”

This time, Sam knew his own eyes held a wicked glint. He’d never planned on dragging her further into the mess, but it was nice to watch her squirm.

“Labor laws, and yes, but I was concentrating on contracts,” Avery said as she limped through the gate in the fence line. “And as you repeatedly remind me, I never finished that degree. Besides that, there’s no way that is a policy, written or unwritten.” She crossed her arms over her chest, feisty in the bright sunshine because she knew his game and was determined to play to win. “He’s reaching for an excuse, Ms. B. If he finds the right girl, he’ll change his tune.”

Sam ran a hand down his nape, off balance and uncertain which argument to make. Avery would shut it down, whatever tack he chose. “Doesn’t change the fact that Avery is about as low on the list of possible suspects as could be. My match? She’ll beat me to the top of Yanu Falls.” He crossed his arms over his chest, a perfect mirror of her annoyed pose. “Fair and square.”

Her face had more color after a full night of rest, but she needed a push. He could push.

The atmosphere of a rousing cat-and-mouse game evaporated as Avery stomped closer to his reserve truck. “Let’s go get the car. Straight there. Straight back. We don’t negotiate with terrorists or matchmakers.”

Before Sam had a chance to agree or disagree, Avery yanked the door open and slid inside.

He propped his hands on his hips and tried to decide how he’d lost control of the conversation and whether or not he was going to take her interference in stride. Normally, his mother was the only managing woman in his life and he loved her enough to go along with it. Every now and then, Janet Abernathy took a step forward and did string-pulling, and he could accept that good-naturedly because she was his mother’s best friend and she loved him almost as much as his mother did.

The last thing he’d want, though, was to sign up for a third bossy female. Avery was glaring at him through the windshield and made a “hurry up” motion with her hand.

“You know, it would tick her off if you go for a drive through town. It’s your day off. Live a little.” His mother picked up the empty containers he’d left on the porch railing. “If your trip takes long enough, I’ll have dinner ready and we can refill these before you go home.”

“Take her by the pie place,” Avery’s mother said. “Girl needs to eat and you remember how she loved it.” The pie place stood across the main street from Sweetwater’s library. Avery had loved both.

“You two are determined one of us is going to end up in the hospital, aren’t you?” Sam smiled and stepped away.

Slowly he strolled back through the grass and approached his truck. He bent his head through the driver’s-side window and said, “You could ask nicely, you know. A girl who wants a favor ought to try that first.”

“Okay, but a woman who knows how to make you sorry is sitting in this seat,” Avery said sweetly. “Don’t make me go crying to your mother.”

The old, familiar threat had lost little of its power, but Sam was happier, more relaxed than he had been in days as he slid behind the wheel. He’d almost forgotten the fact that he was waiting for an email. He was still stuck right where he was, but he could put off checking his email for an hour or two. Avery was here to distract him. “Fine, but we have to make a stop first.”

If rolling eyes could have a sound, hers would. She’d always been so dramatic. That was what made it fun to pester her until she reacted. “Okay, but if there’s not a fried pie in my future, your afternoon is going to take a terrible downhill turn.”

Sam was grinning as he backed down the lane. Until he remembered their audience and cursed under his breath.

“What?” Avery said as she checked over her shoulder for traffic on their dead-end gravel road.

“I was acting like I was enjoying myself. We don’t want to encourage them.” Sam immediately assumed a scowl. Let them think whatever Avery said had wiped away his good mood. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t, but he glanced over at her. “If they gang up on us, can we prevail?”

Avery blinked slowly at him. “Prevail?” She whistled. “I like it. A battle of good versus evil, all over our dating lives.” She rolled down the window and stuck her head out, the breeze ruffling short gold curls instead of the long, messy ponytail she’d had at seventeen.

It took him a minute to drag his eyes back to the road. The mix of old Avery, the wild girl who’d leaned half her body out of the car to catch the breeze, and the new Avery, a woman with closely cropped hair with a touch of silver here and there, confused him. He could see the girl, even though he would say he wouldn’t have recognized the woman without a clue when he’d found her on the mountain trail.

Time in Sweetwater was bringing her back to life.

She’d caught him watching her.

“What? A beautiful fall day is perfect for the windblown hairstyle. Soon we’ll have cold and rain. Might as well enjoy it to the fullest.” Avery ran a hand through her hair. “I haven’t done that in so long. It feels good, wind blowing through my hair.”

Sam nodded. “Sure. There’s a lot less of it to mess up now, too. And if we don’t get some rain soon, this whole place will be a dust pile. Driest summer and early fall we’ve had in a decade.”

Sam wasn’t watching but he heard what he thought might be the snap of her teeth. Was she grinding them together? “What did I say?”

“As if you don’t know.” Avery pulled up one leg and braced it on the dashboard like old times. “I can’t tell if you really don’t like my hair or you’re poking again, trying to get a rise.”

Sam tightened his hand on the steering wheel. It was a bit of both, if he was being honest.

Still, he wasn’t a fool. Commenting on a woman’s hair was a minefield of wrong decisions.

“It was simpler, less fuss. Straightening it every day was such a hassle and I had more important things to worry about.” She played with the hair at her temples. “Robert didn’t like it, either, but it had to be done. Believe me, deciding to cut my hair wasn’t the hardest thing I did, but it sure wasn’t easy. Losing that ponytail was like...”

Sam waited for her to finish the sentence but she shook her head. Even if he’d managed to punch through the sadness that made her seem so fragile when he’d met her on the trail, some of it hovered around her now. He wanted to chase it away again, but not by his usual means.

He studied her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed so vulnerable, but every conversation was revealing enough of her grit to reassure him AA was still in there.

“It was like saying goodbye to myself, the person I knew I was,” Avery said softly.

If he reached over to give her an encouraging hug, she’d make him regret it.

The urge to do it anyway was something he had to get under control.

“If we’re going to the library and the pie shop, you’re going to have to drive faster. The library closes at five.” Avery tapped the digital display on the dashboard. “And since I’m out of the house like a perfectly normal human being who has no worrying grief or latent suicidal tendencies, I want my prizes.”

That was what he wanted to talk to her about, whatever it was that had her mother so worried, but she met his stare. “I’m fine, Sam. My mother will make sure of it.”

Here, in the sunshiny afternoon, it was easy to agree. Sam grunted. “Someday, I’m going to spend time analyzing how my stop for more leftovers took such a wrong turn.”

“When you head to this new job,” Avery said with a wave of her hand, “you’ll have time and distance. That makes it so much easier to see through my mother’s expert finagling.”

Sam shot her a quick look and then hung an arm out the window. “Yeah, and what brings you home, then? Time and distance sound good to me.”

“Sometimes you miss that finagling,” Avery said as she fussed with those windblown curls. “Sometimes you need it, Sam.”

The quick trip through Sweetwater was silent as he thought about her words. As he parked in a spot in the center of town, perfectly situated for both the library and the pie shop, Sam wondered if she was warning him. He’d never been away from home. What if he was as restless and dissatisfied in Colorado as he was here? There weren’t any bigger mountains for him to climb.

Avery opened the door and then paused. “I don’t know what my mother told you...about last night, but I wasn’t even thinking of how I might possibly someday want to kill myself.” Her cheeks were pink as she met his stare. “You know me, Sam. That’s not me.”

She wanted him to agree, so he did. “Of course it’s not you. That was part of the finagling, I bet, a way to get me to leave my nice, cushy vehicle and head out onto the dark, cold trail.” He stretched in the seat. “They were already matchmaking. No way did I ever believe it, AA.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied his face, like she wanted to trust him but wasn’t sure she could. Then she tipped her chin up. “You coming in?”

“To the library?” Sam asked in his best “you’ve got to be joking” voice. “I’m headed for pie and right now.”

She shut the door. “Meet you there in five.” Then she was trotting slowly across the small lawn in front of the library. In the old days, she might have thrown a cartwheel in for punctuation. As it was, he was glad she made it to the door without stopping. In the light of day, he could see the same fatigue in her face, but something had changed in her eyes.

And that was the thinking of a man who was spending too much time considering a woman who would never be his type. Ever. They made better competitors than friends, but he was glad she’d pushed him as hard as she had. Right now, she needed some pushing. He could do that.

First, he was going to get two fried pies, and if she took longer than fifteen minutes, he was going to eat them both.

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