Second Chance (Cold Springs Series Book 1) (13 page)

Mother echoed the sentiment.  “I’ll have him arrested!”

Theresa shook her head.  “Not school as in pedophile.  She’s in college.  She’s twenty-one.  Can you even believe it? Shawn’s forty!”

“Oh.” Sam felt a little better about the situation, such as it was.  She recalled seeing Shawn talking to a group of women at Aunt Jean’s funeral.  She’d heard him ask a striking redhead if he could buy her a drink sometime.  She didn’t think anything of it at the time.  Sure, it was a total pickup line, but Shawn had Theresa.  Beautiful, smart, perfect.  Could Shawn have been hitting on the redhead?  No…maybe?  Maybe this hadn’t been his first affair.  Just the first time he’d gotten caught.  Sam didn’t know how to help her sister.  She could find Shawn and kick him in the balls, but that probably wouldn’t solve anything.

It was a strange feeling wanting to help Theresa.  It felt…kind of good.  What family should be.

“What are you going to do?” Mother placed a hand over Theresa’s.

Theresa sniffled.  “I don’t know.”

“Don’t go back there.”  Mother’s voice was stern.  “Bring the kids and stay here.”

“No.” Theresa squared her shoulders.  “He’s the one who’s leaving.  He cheated on me, and that’s my house.”

Sam had never seen her sister so determined.  It suited her well.

CHAPTER NINE

Sam couldn’t sleep that night.  Lying in bed, thoughts of Theresa and what she could do to help plagued her.  She looked at the digital clock on the nightstand.  Midnight.  Certainly too late to call anyone, even though it was likely Theresa was still up.  Theresa had left Mother’s determined to confront Shawn and put an end to her marriage.  Shawn was the fault of everything, and she was equally dead set to take him to the cleaners.

Good for her. 

Sam wondered if Ian would ever cheat on a woman.  Before, when he’d been the kind of man who had stood her up so many years ago, maybe, but now, now she doubted it.  Now she imagined he’d be the kind of man who would stay loyal to a woman despite any obstacle.

The thought surprised her.  Certainly there was no future with Ian. 

Ian was doing the best he could.  He was a good person dealt a difficult hand.  She had no right to judge him.  Thoughts of Chet came to mind.  She wondered why he came all the way here.  He was an insurance agent and traveled often but would have no reason to come all the way out to Cold Springs.  The last thing Sam had said to him was that they should go their separate ways because it was obvious the relationship wasn’t going anywhere and Chet had agreed.  But they’d remained in contact.  Revealing nothing really, just a casual acquaintance, nothing more than two casual friends, if even that.  Did he miss her?

Sam picked up her cell phone.  This was a mistake.  Sam would be making her mother very happy hooking up with Chet, but in her experience, pleasing Mother was never a good thing, and she was going against Ian.  Sort of, and right now that seemed like a very good thing. 

She picked up the receiver and dialed Chet’s number.

~ * ~

Sam sat across the table listening to Chet go on about his work.  He was stalling and she didn’t understand why.  It was one thing to be proud of one’s job and all the accomplishments that went along with it, but Chet was overdoing it.

He wanted something.

Chet had called her back almost immediately after she’d left the message on his voicemail last night.  Now, as she waited for the server to bring the check, she wondered about what she still had to do at the diner tonight.  It was already past eight.  She should get back and see about some of the accounting work waiting for her.

The waiter approached their table.  “Would you like to see our dessert menu?”

“Sure.”

“Just the check please.”  Sam cleared her throat. 

“You can’t go so soon.”  Chet’s look was accusing.  “We just got here.”

“I really have a lot of work to do before tomorrow.”

“Sam.”  Chet took her hand, holding it a little too forcibly for comfort.  “We need to talk.”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”  She couldn’t hide her irritation.  “Why did you come all the way out here?  I know it’s not to talk about your work.”

“I made a mistake.  I miss you, Sam.”

He surprised her.  She hadn’t expected this. In all their texts and e-mails he’d never once even hinted at missing her.  Why now?

“You can’t be happy here. Look at this town.  There’s nothing here to offer you.”

“My family’s here.”

“Your family’s always been here.  We can come here and visit just like you’ve always done.”  He ran a hand through his hair then smiled.

We? 

Chet had never addressed the two of them with the term
we
before.  A month ago, Sam would have thought it was a promise of something wonderful yet to come.  Now she found it annoying and somewhat controlling, and it took her completely off guard.  “I’m happy right here, Chet.”

The waiter brought the check. They both reached for it at once. Chet’s fingers brushed hers and she pulled back. She recalled walks in Central Park with him, where they’d spent time hand in hand.  Not many walks but there had been a couple. Sam didn’t want him touching her now.

“I can get half,” Sam spoke up.  She suddenly didn’t want to owe him, not even for something as insignificant as dinner. 

Chet pulled out his credit card.  “No, I insist.”

It bothered her that he was paying for her meal.  She didn’t exactly know why.  Maybe because she was so used to picking up the tab when she used to take authors out for business lunches.  Maybe because it had been so long since she’d been on a real date.

Real date?  She thought of Ian and the barbeque they’d had at his apartment.  That hadn’t felt like a date.  Instead it had felt like two friends enjoying the day together.  There had been no awkwardness, no feelings of insecurity that came with being with someone you didn’t know very well. She had just…enjoyed herself and enjoyed Ian’s company. 

She wondered what Ian was doing right now.

The waiter ran Chet’s card through and brought it back for his signature.  Sam stood and headed toward the door.  Chet trailed behind her.

In the parking lot, she headed toward Chet’s rental car, a dark gray Lincoln with black leather interior.  Only the best for Chet. Most everyone in Cold Springs drove a pickup truck.  The car stuck out like a sore thumb.  

“Thank you for dinner.”  She hurriedly got in after he beeped the alarm and fastened her seatbelt.  She was in a hurry to get away and had the most incredible urge to just walk home.

Chet got in but made no move to start the engine.  “Sam—”

“No.”  She didn’t want to hear what he had to say.  Before coming to Cold Springs, it would have meant everything, but now so much had changed.  Chet, New York, it all seemed so small and unimportant now.  She didn’t have the same needs anymore.   “I really have to get back home. Maybe some other time.”

“Some other time?”  He gave a small, annoyed laugh.  “Sam, I came all this way for you.  I want you to come back.  I’m ready to settle down.  I’m ready to take the next step with you.”

He took her hand.  Sam stared down at his fingers intertwined with hers.  His hands were soft, his nails manicured.  Ian’s were calloused from hard labor, his nails bitten or torn off from worry that came from not knowing where he would get his next month’s money or his next meal for that matter.

Sam pulled her hand away.  “Chet, I appreciate you.  You’ve always been a friend to me, but—”

“But?”  He sighed.  “There’s someone else.”

“I have a place here.”

“This stupid diner?”

“It’s not stupid.”  She immediately felt the need to defend herself, her aunt, and everything the diner represented. 

“It is, Sam. You have a life in New York.  We have a life.”

“We were acquaintances, Chet.  We dated.  It was good while it lasted, but like you said, you didn’t see it going any further.”

Chet was silent for a moment, and Sam wondered if he was letting his own words she’d used against him sink in. Finally, he said, “Well, I was wrong.”

“Hey,” she rested her hand over his,  “it’s okay.”

“It’s someone else, isn’t it?”

Sam thought of Ian.  It was and so much more.  Ian was everything to what Cold Springs meant.  He was everything.

Chet pulled his hand away.  “That’s just great.  You know, I thought we had something.  I thought we meant something.”

“We did.  I mean we do.  We will always be friends.”

“Friends.”  He laughed bitterly.  “It’s all cut and dry for you, isn’t it?”

Sam didn’t know what to say.  She didn’t want to hurt him, but clearly she had changed.  They had both changed, and there was nothing more to say.  “Can you take me home, please?”

Chet pushed the automatic door lock.  Sam tried the door anyway, but it wouldn’t budge.  Her heart rate tripped beats.  She remembered the years in the city and the safety precautions she always took.  She hadn’t taken any here because it was Cold Springs and he was familiar, safe.   

“Let me out.”

Chet leaned forward as if he was going to kiss her.  “Chet, stop!”

Make a scene.

Before she could think, Sam let out a bloodcurdling scream.  Chet jumped.  He unlocked the doors, and she bolted.  He called after her, but thankfully didn’t seem to be following. 

Sam sprinted up the sidewalk, past her mother’s house, and didn’t stop until she was on Main Street.  Jean’s Diner came into view.  Sam had left the outside light on, and it was like a beacon of safety.

Aunt Jean was always like that.  Like coming home.

She hurried to the door.  Her hands shook so badly she could barely slip her key in the lock.  She let herself in, locking it behind her and flipped on every light in the place.

She sank to the floor, shaking uncontrollably.  A rap on the door nearly sent her into orbit.  If Chet followed her, she’d call his—

Ian.

She hurriedly unlocked and opened the door.

“I drove by and saw all the lights on.  I thought something was— what’s wrong?”

Sam threw herself into his arms.  Tears came fast and hard.  Chet hadn’t done anything, she really didn’t know if he would have—would he have?—but it didn’t matter.  He’d scared her.  She was so stupid to trust, to think nothing would happen in such a small town.  To trust someone just because he was familiar.

Sam told Ian every detail of her night.  All the stress and the fear of the past few weeks came rushing forth like a tidal wave.  Ian was warmth and comfort, and she felt safe with him. 

“If he hurt you—”

“No,” Sam interrupted, both shocked and flattered by his sudden protectiveness.  “Let it go.  It’s not worth getting yourself in trouble over.”

“I’m spending the night here with you in case he comes here.”

Sam nodded.  Not that she thought Chet would dare after that banshee scream she let out near his eardrum.  No matter, Sam was okay with Ian never leaving.

Where had that thought come from?  And furthermore, what could she hope to do with it?  There was no future to be had with Ian.  She would never have the white picket fence and large successful family like—

Like Theresa?  Who was crying her eyes out because Shawn had cheated on her?

Sam couldn’t picture Ian ever cheating on her, simply because he’d been through hell and back and most likely couldn’t imagine doing the same to someone else. 

Ian tugged off his sweatshirt, the white tee he wore beneath riding up with it to reveal the nastiest looking scar Sam had ever seen. Over a foot long of twisted, puckered flesh trailed from the right side of his back, curving toward his stomach. Too crooked to be from a surgical procedure. An accident?

Sam looked up to see him watching her, his expression unreadable.  No accident.

Images of prison riots formed in her mind. She pictured Ian being attacked with some sort of homemade weapon, something so primitive and wicked that it tore open such a gash in his side.

Ian ran a hand through his hair.  Sam had the urge to do the same to it.

Her entire life she’d never been one to act upon urges, but she needed to touch him.  Needed to comfort him, do something in recognition, in mourning for the years wasted, for the violence he’d endured behind bars. She reached up, barely caressing the spot where his hairline was beginning to recede slightly.  A few fine hairs were starting to gray.  Ian would be a man to age gracefully, she could tell. 

Ian closed his eyes, leaned into her touch.  He gave a slow intake of breath and the urge to kiss him was suddenly too much.  Standing on her tiptoes, she rested her hands on his shoulders and lightly touched his lips with her own. His kiss was gentle, reserved, restrained out of respect for her.