Authors: Kim Watters
Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, his mood darkened. Tension built again inside and out, weighing heavily on him. His stupidity had made his head overrule his heart. He’d probably ruined everything. Instead of fighting for her last night, he’d let her down, just when she needed him the most—just as every other person had done in her past.
“Come on, change.”
The light finally turned green.
Five minutes later, he pulled the van into the diner parking lot, his nerves wound tight, his mood uneasy. Slipping into the last vacant spot, he took a deep breath. He’d finally made it, but what was he going to say to Sarah?
Customers filled every table as he looked around for the woman who’d stolen his heart.
“Hi, Grant.” Veronica hurried past him, her arms loaded with plates of food. Over the din, he could hear Mabel calling out an order to Ted. Scanning the area, he saw many familiar faces, but not the one he wanted to see.
The tightness that had started at his midsection, spread to the rest of his body. He caught Veronica on her way to the coffee station. “Hey, Veronica, where’s Sarah?”
“Dunno. She never came in today. There’s an empty stool at the counter if you want to eat. Be right there,” she hollered to a male patron sitting in a booth by the window.
His gut feeling had been right. Sarah was gone.
And with her departure, his heart.
Chapter Twelve
Grant slammed the door shut behind him as he entered the clinic. After the shock of Sarah’s disappearance wore off, his anger had set in. Not at her, but at himself.
His reaction last night had been no better than the people who had taken her in when she was a child. Instead of reaching out to her, comforting her in her need, he’d pulled back.
Banging his fist against the wall, he left a hole in the drywall. The contact sent a jolt of pain up his arm, but that was nothing compared to the pain Sarah must be feeling. He’d seen the wounded look in her eyes last night as he dropped her off at her apartment—all because of him. She’d brought a ray of sunlight to his life and he’d blown it.
And she’d left him.
An empty feeling emerged as he thought about her and how far she’d come since she’d first waked through the clinic door. Sarah. Alone, vulnerable, and hurt, somewhere in central California, since he was certain she wasn’t in Greer anymore. The only question was, where did she go? The gnawing sensation in his stomach worked its way to his heart.
He needed her back.
Switching on the lights, he glanced around. Stark white walls stared vacantly back at him. He sighed, his anger gone. Numbness spread through him. Somehow, the thought of continuing without her left him cold.
He hadn’t really felt like opening today—he warred with himself over whether to open the clinic or search for Sara—but he had obligations, and bills to pay. When he finished with his two appointments, he’d tear the surrounding communities apart trying to find her.
As Grant walked down the hall, Rocky slunk toward him, his tail between his legs and his big, brown eyes staring up at him woefully. Grant squatted to scratch him behind the ear. He wasn’t the only one hurt by Sarah’s defection.
“She left you, too, huh boy?”
Rocky sighed and placed his head on Grant’s knee. Touching the dog’s nose, he found it warm and dry. Rocky was sick…heart-sick for Sarah. Just like him.
With one last pat, he rose to his feet, made a pot of coffee and headed toward his office. Rocky followed. The dog wouldn’t leave his side, not that he could blame him. The place was empty, the life had disappeared with Sarah.
He settled himself behind his desk and stared at the spider web in the corner of the ceiling, forgetting the mail and the rest of his tasks. He couldn’t help but think of Sarah. Her laughter over the past few weeks filled his brain.
The woman who’d come into his life unexpectedly and turned it upside down with her silent strength and resilience. The memory of the first time she stood outside the door infiltrated his brain. Bill in hand, Sarah had been uncertain, defensive, and then angry. He swore he could still feel the imprint of her finger on his chest where she’d poked him weeks ago. It amazed him how far she’d come in such a short time.
His cousin, Susan, was right. Sarah was like the azalea, just waiting for the right time to blossom. She’d started to. He needed to see that she finished. As soon as he found her.
With each tick of the second hand, Sarah got further away from him. Sitting here, thinking about her didn’t do him any good. He needed to act, but then again, cancelling Mr. Ericson’s appointment didn’t do him any good either, since his business depended on repeat clients and their referrals.
Rocky nudged his hand, begging for more attention. Grant obliged, stroking the thick gold fur. He loved her. Heck, they both loved her. He could understand why she left him, but he couldn’t understand why she’d leave Rocky. Her dog had done nothing. Something wasn’t right.
It all became clear as he scratched Rocky under the chin while looking into his eyes. Sarah had no choice. Leaving Greer and her dog had probably killed her, just as the thought of Sarah spending a night or a week in a shelter until she got herself together was killing him. But until he figured out where she’d gone, there was nothing he could do.
The bell sounded over the front door.
Grant looked at his watch. It was too early for his first appointment. Sarah? His heart beat faster as Rocky’s ears raised, his attention on the soft sound of footsteps coming from the reception area. The dog let out a yelp and ran to the door, only to return more forlorn than before as Gillian stepped in.
“She’s gone, isn’t she?”
Grant nodded. He should have known better than to get his hopes up when he heard the bell. Except for the first two days, Sarah had always used the back door.
“I’m sorry.” His sister sat down, a genuine look of sorrow flashed across her features. “Where do you suppose she went? Aunt Mildred will be disappointed. I suppose I should go tell her.”
A vision flashed in his mind. The answer was so simple. “Don’t tell her anything yet.” Reaching under his desk, Grant grabbed the phone book and plopped it on the wood surface. The noise startled Rocky, who jumped up and skittered from the room.
He flipped through the pages, finally finding the number he wanted. “I haven’t a clue where she went, but I think I know how she’ll get there.”
Sarah sat huddled in the back of the Greyhound, her two bags packed underneath the bus, heading toward Los Angeles. She’d left with no more than she’d arrived with, except the painful memories of Grant. After all these years, she thought she’d learned that lesson. Obviously not. Love was conditional and nothing was free. Still, in spite of everything, she missed Grant and she missed Rocky.
Pain swelled in her heart as the tears formed. Through the mist, she stared at the grease stain on her dress. In her haste, she’d forgotten she still wore her uniform. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been accused of stealing, but it would be her last. She’d send it back to Ted as soon as she settled down and tried to forge a new life. Maybe in the big city, she could blend in.
“You look a little down, honey,” the elderly woman in the seat next to her remarked as she set her knitting in her lap. She’d boarded at the last stop, but Sarah had ignored her, not ready to talk to anyone.
Maybe she should. “Is it that obvious?” She sighed and looked out at the passing scenery. The grass had dulled to brown and most of the trees had lost their leaves. The bare limbs reached out toward a dismal sky filled with gray clouds that threatened to spill rain any moment. The weather did little to lift her spirits.
“Running away never did any good.” The needles clicked together as the woman began to knit again.
Sarah turned away from the window and regarded her carefully. She guessed her seatmate to be in her late 70s because of her frosted-white hair and the years of lines etched into her skin. “How did you know?”
She smiled at her as she looked over the rim of her glasses. “I was young once, too, you know, and very much in love. Besides, I don’t know of anyone who’d commute such a long distance to work in a restaurant.”
“Oh.” Sarah tried to pull her short jacket down to cover her uniform. “Who says I’m in love?”
“Take a look at yourself, child. It’s written all over your face.” She reached into her bag, pulled out a blue ball of yarn and carefully added it to the burgundy strand. “What happened?”
Three months ago, Sarah would have ignored the lady, but that was before Grant. Before his kindness and generosity had changed her and her views about herself and humanity. Even Rocky had helped her change by showing her the meaning of unconditional love.
Unconditional love. Maybe it existed for dogs, but it sure didn’t extend to the people department. His kindness and generosity were probably a front, too. She didn’t know, she didn’t have much experience to go on. It hurt to think that Grant was no better than the people who’d raised her. She sighed. She’d begun to believe he was different.
While his kiss told her he was different, the look in his eyes last night told her another story. Her heart broke in two. Which was the real Grant?
“Don’t want to talk about it? I understand. But if I had listened to anyone but my heart, I wouldn’t be as happy as I am today.”
The woman leaned down and retrieved a small photo album from her bag and handed it to Sarah. “This was my husband, George.” She pointed to the black and white photograph of them on their wedding day, standing in front of the courthouse.
“At first, I tried to run from my problems, too. Our families were dead set against our getting married because of our religious differences. But soon, I realized they were all wrong. I loved George, and I was determined nothing would come between us—not our religions, not our families, nothing. I convinced him it was the right thing to do, and we eloped.”
She turned the page where Sarah could see a photograph of her seatmate, George and two infants. “He gave me two children, Mary and George Jr. before he died in an automobile accident. And they gave me four grandchildren.” She turned to the next page where Sarah could see the grown children with their spouses and two children apiece.
“I’m sorry about George.”
“I’m not. We only had a few years, but he made me happy. I don’t regret a thing, even if I had to fight for the family I wanted.” She shut the book and returned it to her bag.
A real family. Something Sarah had dreamed of, even long before she’d met Grant. She just hadn’t realized it. She thought she’d found it with the Morrisons, but that was before her past and her fears came between them.
Or was that her excuse to distance herself from Grant?
Yes.
Sarah didn’t like the answer and shredded the toilet tissue she’d bunched in her hands. Grant had always been there for her—even last night. He’d been shocked, but had every right to be.
She was the one who’d blown everything out of proportion by letting her pride get in the way. She should have explained everything then. She should have made him understand about her past, about everything. She should have reached out to him, but no, all she’d done is retreat and let Grant think the worst of her. The war of emotions was written in his eyes and still she’d kept quiet. No wonder Grant had dropped her off with hardly a word.
But his last kiss still lingered on her lips. He’d awakened her. She’d always shied away from emotional contact and support because she was afraid—afraid of rejection, afraid of the complications, afraid of feeling emotions. It had always been easier to rely on herself.
That wasn’t what she wanted anymore.
She was tired of running, tired of her fears, and tired of not knowing her future—a future that would be lonely without Grant. As her thoughts skimmed over the days they’d spent together, everything became crystal clear.
She knew enough about him to believe that when he learned the truth about her record—another case of being blamed for something she didn’t do—he would accept her. “I’ve been such a fool.”
The woman gathered her in her arms and hugged her gently. “You’re only human, child. Your situation may not be the same, but you’re no different than I was at your age. Go back. Everything will be okay.”
The bus pulled into the next stop. As her seatmate gathered her things, said good-bye and departed, Sarah sat paralyzed in her seat, staring out the window, her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to go back. She needed to go back. She needed to finds the strength to quit running and get off the bus. Once she did, her fate, for better or worse, would be sealed. It was a chance she had to take.
And she didn’t have much time.
All the passengers getting off had departed and she could hear the few people that had boarded taking their seats. She took a deep breath. As her one hand grabbed the black strap of her backpack, her other hand grasped the top of the seat in front of her so she could propel herself to her feet.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” A familiar voice filtered through her thoughts, Sarah looked up and dropped her bag. The familiar voice came from a familiar face.
“Grant. What are you doing here? Rocky!”
“We’re on our way to LA. What are you doing here?”
“Being a fool.”
He’d come for her, which meant—she flew into Grant’s arms as he stood in the aisle, glad to feel his solid strength around her, comforting her. This was where she wanted to be, not alone in the back of the bus, heading toward an empty and lonely existence. Today had been the longest day of her life.
“No, I’m the fool. I’m so sorry, Sarah. I let you down last night.”
“But—”
He silenced her protest with a kiss. A long, drawn out kiss that sent her pulses spinning and her heart racing. She reached up and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, mindless of the fact they weren’t alone.
“Sarah, my beautiful Sarah. You had us so worried.” Grant cradled her face between his palms and began planting tiny kisses on her cheeks, her nose, and her chin.