Fighting Fate (3 page)

Gretchen let out a giddy laugh. “Oh, that’s not all. I started pulling lids off. These,” she said as she swept a hand toward the cans on the shelf in question, “
all
have money in them. Most of them have coins. Some of them have cash. I didn’t get through all of them. I opened this one and the hundreds completely took me by surprise.”

Sarah took a step backward. She took in the sight of the messy, overstuffed shelves. To the far right were jars that held Cora’s canning. Sarah knew she should have thrown them all away by now. She just hadn’t taken the time. Moving inward were boxes. They were all labeled and seemed to mostly contain holiday ornaments. Next came the shelves full of dozens of old tin cans. Sarah had always thought her grandma kept them only because she hated to throw anything away. She’d seen a few out in the old barn turned workshop that her grandpa had used to store nails, screws and other random objects. Next were totes full of old photo albums and other keepsakes. It seemed that Cora had used whatever was handy at the time. Some items were boxed, some were in bins, some were in bags.

“If I were you,” Gretchen said, “I would open every last box, can and bag before you toss anything.”

Sarah nodded. “I will.”

“So, what do you want to do with all of this?”

“Leave it for now?” she asked, sounding unsure.

“
Here
?” Gretchen demanded.

Sarah shrugged. “Why not? It’s been here for years.  We’d never sort through it and make it to town before the banks closed.” She reached past Gretchen toward the shelves. She began randomly removing lids as her sister had done. It was as Gretchen had said. Every can contained money in some form or another. Sarah plucked a coin out of a can.

“She didn’t seem to be particular,” Gretchen said. “She saved a lot of pennies.”

“This isn’t just a penny. It’s an Indian Head,” Sarah told her. She reached back into the can. She pulled out a handful of change. “There are a lot of them. And some Buffalo Nickels.”

“So what you’re saying is that even the pennies are worth a lot?” Gretchen asked, wide-eyed.

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. They might bea hhey mig. I don’t know a lot about them. Just that some are worth more than others.” She examined another coin. She held it up for her sister to see. To Sarah, it looked like the face of a grumpy lady, wearing a tiara, surrounded by stars. “I’m not even sure what this one is.” 

“You don’t seem to be very excited,” Gretchen pointed out. “I feel like a pirate that’s found some hidden treasure. Mom looks more excited when her favorite wine is ten percent off than you do right now.”

Sarah’s lips turned up slightly and she shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t really care about the money. I’d rather have Grandma back.” She reached back over the can again, letting the change trickle back inside.

“You took off your ring.” Gretchen’s voice was full of surprise.

Sarah glanced at her bare finger. “It didn’t fit under the rubber gloves. I had to take it off.”

Gretchen didn’t say anything to that. She could have pointed out that it had been eighteen months and two weeks since Sarah had a reason to wear it. But she didn’t. And Sarah loved her for that.

When Gretchen’s stomach growled she let out an embarrassed laugh. “I have an idea. This place is about as clean as we’re going to get it for now. I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I know you haven’t either. Let’s head over to Lucky’s. I could use a drink and they’ve expanded their menu. We can get an early dinner. I’ll even let you buy mine,” she teased.

Sarah agreed and half an hour later they were seated in Lucky’s Tavern. Sarah had been craving nachos. Gretchen told her they couldn’t order nachos unless they ordered margaritas. So they had.

Now, each of them sat with a large, salt rimmed glass in front of them. The enormous plate of shared nachos was between them. Sarah grabbed a cheese covered chip and dunked it in some salsa.

“So, what are you going to do about the…you know,” Gretchen said as her eyes went wide, “in the cellar?”

“No idea. I should probably sort through it all before I cash it in. There might be some coins worth keeping for sentimental reasons. At the very least, I’m sure that most of the coins are worth more than what they seem at face value. I might have to do some research. I just don’t know when I’ll have the time.”

She didn’t want to tell Gretchen she just didn’t feel like dealing with it. That would sound ungrateful. That wasn’t the case at all. It was just that the past few months, hell that past few
years
, had worn her down. She’d resigned from her position at the school she worked at in Crawford this past spring. She’d packed up what little was left of the small rented home she had once shared with Aaron. Before that, she had been dealing with Brynn, Aaron’s sister. Gretchen had no idea just how miserable Brynn had been making her life since Aaron’s death.

She had no intention of telling her either.

Brynn blamed Sarah for what had happened to Aaron. Quite frankly, Sarah agreed. So she’d put up with Brynn’s torment for as long as she could stand. Finally, she’d had enough. With Aaron gone, being in Crawford had become too painful. That was why she’d decided to move back to Laurel.

Brynn had been happy to see her go. Sarah was sure then that the slashed tires, the graffiti on her garage door, the hateful messages on her answering machine…they had all been Brynn’s effort to get her to leave town.

It had seemed like providence that the school district in Laurel was hiring so many new teachers. If they hadn’t been, her back-up plan had been to sub in the district until she did get hired. Thanks to her grandmother, she could’ve padded her paltry subbing income with her inheritance. Fortunately, it hadn’t come to that.

She had nearly two months of summer vacation left before she started her new job. She had thought those months would be quiet, peaceful and uneventful. She had thought she would be able to use that time to emotionally regroup. So far, it didn’t seem like that was likely to happen.

“Something is wrong with this picture,” Gretchen said. She paused to take a sip of her drink. “It’s happy hour. And
you
do not look happy.” Her gaze suddenly shifted from Sarah and her concerned expression was traded in for a smirk. “Maybe
that
will cheer you up.”

Gretchen motioned toward the center of the bar with her chin. Sarah followed the line of her movement.

Cole?
Again
? Where had he come from?! She was sure he hadn’t been there when they arrived. At the very least, she was sure his Harley hadn’t been in the parking lot. He was strutting toward the bar, wallet in hand. He glanced down as he weaved his way around the tables scattered across the floor. He pulled out some cash as he reached the man behind the counter.

“I can’t believe this,” Sarah grumbled. “I’ve only been in Laurel three days and I’ve seen Cole two times. And the first night doesn’t really count because I didn’t get here until after dark and I went straight to Mom and Dad’s.”

Gretchen looked far too happy for Sarah’s liking. “What a coincidence! Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something.”

“What?” Sarah moaned. “That I deserve to be punished?”

“No! Now stop that!” Gretchen said as she tossed an olive at her sister. Sarah deflected it and it bounced across the table.

Against her will, her eyes drifted up to the bar. Gretchen didn’t tease her about it. Instead, she mirrored the action.

“Oh my,” Gretchen whispered. “Check him out. Motorcycle boots, black leather jacket, snug jeans that fit him like nobody’s business. That windblown hair. Did you
see
that hair? It’s the kind of hair that leaves you wanting to run your fingers through it. That man is—”

“A cliché,” Sarah grumped as she interrupted Gretchen’s bizarre monologue. Her sister’s words sounded almost rehearsed, yet she said them with feeling. “He’s nothing but a living, breathing cliché.”

“Of bad boy hotness,” Gretchen interrupted right back.

Sarah knew she should say something to that. Refute it somehow, but words—and apparently all coherent thought—were evading her at the moment. Worse yet, for a reason she didn’t quite understand, her sister sounded like she was a walking, talking advertisement for the trouble that was otherwise known as Cole Montgomery.

“I’m right. You know I am,” Gretchen gloated. “He looks good and you know it.”

“Oh just…shut up,” Sarah grumbled.

“Classy, Sarah. Really,” Gretchen said with a wry smile. She noted how her sister was scowling at Cole’s backside. “Come on. What did you expect? Of course he’s dressed like that. It’s a typical outfit. It’s not like he’d be out on a Harley wearing sneakers, sweats and a trench coat.”

Sarah wanted to tell her sister to stop checking the man out. She couldn’t because she really didn’t feel justified. Not when she was doing the exact same thing.

“I’ll bet he has a tattoo. Maybe a couple of them,” Gretchen said dreamily as she swung back around in the booth. She raised an eyebrow at Sarah. “What do you think?”

“I think I don’t care,” Sarah replied.

Gretchen smirked at her and Sarah knew that Gretchen knew she was lying.

It was well past the lunch rush. Yet it wasn’t quite the end of the normal work day yet—making Sarah’s assumption that Cole had turned into a bum seem even more likely. The bar had some patrons but it wasn’t overly crowded. Gretchen swung back around again to get a better look.

Sarah couldn’t blame her. She was noticing how Cole’s dark windblown hair really did look like it needed someone’s fingers to be run through it. She was telling herself that person would never be her. Not again.

That’s when he turned around, his gaze landing directly on her. His startled look of surprise and disbelief must’ve matched the look she wore yesterday. She let out a little whimper and looked away, trying to pretend that she hadn’t seen him.

And that she hadn’t seen him
seeing
her.

“He spotted you,” Gretchen said. Her eyes were sparkling mischievously and Sarah didn’t like it one bit.

nt n="just“Oh, do you really think so,” Sarah muttered as she rolled her eyes. Maybe he would ignore her. It would be the polite thing to do. She would ignore him. He would ignore her. It would be just like old times.

After
everything had all gone to hell.

She felt herself relax just slightly as she took a sip of her drink. She kept her eyes averted, taking a great interest in what was left of their nachos. Any moment now, he’d have gone back to the other side of the bar. Or wherever it was that he’d come from. She would hurriedly finish her drink, discourage Gretchen from ordering another and they could leave.

It would be like nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all.

“Sarah?”

Dammit.

She glanced up. His eyes were narrowed at her. He had a questioning look on his face. As if he thought it couldn’t really be her.

She could completely relate to that feeling.

“Cole.” Did her voice just squeak? Oh, please no. Though she was sure it had.

His voice was deeper and, heaven help her, sexier than it had been all those years ago. He looked even better close up. Any trace of a boy was gone. The man that stood before her was taller. Broader. His once floppy, dark hair was trimmed shorter than she’d ever seen it. It was just long enough to be slightly messy. Probably from riding his motorcycle, she decided. His dark blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at her.

Why
was he smiling
she wondered? He had nothing to smile about.

Feeling off balance, she said the first thing that came to mind.

“Drinking in the middle of the day? Some things never change.”

He held a glass of amber colored liquid in each hand and didn’t look the least bit bothered by her comment. His gaze slowly, deliberately slid to the margarita in front of her.

“Oh, it is
so
not the same thing,” Sarah said before Cole had a chance to say anything. A margarita was a girly drink. Kind of. Never mind that it had a fair amount of tequila in it. She wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if his large drink was straight up whisky with only a splash of Coke.

He quirked an eyebrow at her and his lips twitched, fighting off a smile. “Whatever you say.”

Ironically, after that, she wasn’t able to manage to say anything.

He grinned at her. His eyes traveled down her body and back up again. Sarah was grateful that the booth obstructed his view somewhat.

“Really?” she asked with raised eyebrows. The nerve of him. Never mind that she’d taken a long, ext/p> a longensive look when he’d had his backside to her.

“Hey, it’s been a long time,” he said defensively. “I can’t believe you’re here. You look real good by the way. I mean, you look the same. But different too. It’s not like I didn’t see you checking me out when I was headed this way.”

Sarah nudged the bowl of dip his way. Smiling sweetly she asked, “Would you like some guacamole to go along with your ego?” She knew she was being bitchy. She didn’t mean to be. It was either that or let Cole know exactly how uncomfortable he made her.

It was entirely unfair that after all of these years he was still able to twist her emotions into a tangled mess. She’d been sure she was well past that. Apparently, she’d been wrong.

His smile faltered just a bit. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”

“You’ll have to excuse my sister,” Gretchen said. “She’s been working really hard on this big project. She’s exhausted and that makes her kind of a crab ass.”

Sarah opened her mouth to protest but Gretchen kicked her under the table.

“Sister?” Cole asked as he turned to scrutinize Gretchen the same way he had Sarah. His eyes widened in surprise and then a grin spread across his face. He motioned toward her with the drink in his fist. “
Gretchen
? Now you, you little twerp, I wouldn’t have recognized. You were what…? Eleven the last time I saw you?”

“Twelve. Almost thirteen. Not that it matters,” Gretchen said with a shrug.