Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series (20 page)

“I do.” She gave him a bright smile. How Sarah loved their talks here—beside the creek, in the creek, walking home from the creek. As much as anything else, this man opened up to her like no one else. And she did the same for him.

His eyes fixed on her. “When I’m flying, it makes me realize all over again how small I am in the universe. Like your poem said, and that’s another reason it impacted me so much. Flying humbles me, but it also makes me feel free. And very thankful.”

“Thankful for the knowledge and ability to fly a plane, you mean?”

When he rose out of the water, she did the same, and they faced one another. Sarah held his gaze. What she saw in this man’s eyes gave her confidence, empowered her like never before.

“Yes,” he said, nodding. “I’m also thankful for the liberties I have as a citizen of a free nation. Thankful for being able to honor my family and my country in order to maintain those liberties. Most importantly, I’m thankful to be called a child of the one true King.”

“I understand that, but it still doesn’t explain why you haven’t been up in your plane since you’ve been home.” Something urged her on although she should probably let the matter drop. “Are you afraid for some reason, Sam? Do you feel the plane isn’t air-worthy, or are you concerned you might get dizzy while you’re up in the air? If you are, it’s okay. I want to help you—”

“I’m not afraid, Sarah.” He gazed into the distance, but his jaw visibly tightened. “I’m just not ready yet. That’s all.”

“I didn’t mean to pry or push you, Sam.”

“I know. Thank you for caring.”

She nodded. “Always. Well, I’d better be going home. Walk with me?”

Sam angled his head to the creek bank. “You go on ahead. I think I’ll swim a little. Holler when you’re ready, and then we’ll walk back together.”

Sarah watched as he dove into the water and began swimming with long, sure strokes. The fact that he’d admitted he wasn’t ready to fly again was admirable in its own way, and she needed to respect his feelings.

As she dried off and pulled her T-Shirt and shorts over her swimsuit, she watched Sam still swimming farther down the creek. Although she couldn’t be sure, she felt reasonably certain he was swimming not so much for the benefit of exercise as to spare her feelings and awkwardness. And maybe, just maybe, to work through the questions she’d posed to him.

He’s such a good man, Lord. Help him to fly again. In your time.

~
~♥
~~

Tuesday Morning—June 5, 1962

A knock sounded on the bedroom door as Sarah prepared for work.

“Come on in!” Tucking a long strand of hair into her loose bun, Sarah anchored it with a bobby pin. The door opened and her mother stood in the doorway. “Hi, Mom.”

“Honey, I started out for the market a few minutes ago and found this envelope tucked halfway beneath the front door. Someone must have hand delivered it, and it has your name on it.”

“Really?” Turning, Sarah took it from her. Her name was typed in all capital letters on the outside of a business-size white envelope. No return address. Nothing else. “Wonder what this could be?” She slipped her finger beneath the sealed flap and carefully slid it across the envelope. Nadine watched as she pulled out a cashier’s check from Rockbridge Savings & Loan. Noting the large amount of the check, Sarah covered her mouth with one hand to stifle her cry.

Her Mom leaned over her shoulder. “Sarah Jane, do my eyes deceive me or are there five figures in that amount?”

Speechless, Sarah could only nod. She handed the green paper check to her mother. Moving one hand over her heart, she deep breathed a few times. “I can’t believe this. Who signed the check?”

“Joseph Lewis as the bank president. Countersigned by Sam.”

Taking the check from her mother again, she stared at it. Her hands shook to the point where the check almost fell from her hands and onto the carpeted floor. “So, there’s no way of knowing who funded the check? The only notation in the memo line is some kind of account number.” Crossing the room, Sarah sat down on her bed. “Do you think I should pay Sam a visit and ask him? Not that he’d tell me anything, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“I would. If nothing else, see if he can give you any information.” Nadine’s gaze met hers. “My guess is that this is a gift to pay for nursing school. I should think the amount is certainly more than enough.” She frowned and chewed on her bottom lip. “Someone is being extremely generous, but your father might not like this. You know how men can be if their pride is offended.” Her mother sat down beside her on the bed. “You don’t know how he’s hated that we couldn’t pay your way to college.”

“I don’t want anyone to feel guilty.” Sarah blew out a sigh, “I’m not sure I can accept it. The donor—is that the right word?—obviously wants to remain anonymous. If I can’t find out anything from Sam or his dad, there’s not much else I can do. I mean, it’s a legitimate check made payable to me. If I want the money, I’ll need to cash it, right? Or, I can return it to the bank. That’s another option. It
is
a very large sum of money.” She shook her head. “Who in Rockbridge could even afford to give me this much money, Mom? I guess the more important question is:
why
would they do this for me?”

Her mother squeezed her shoulder and gave her a gentle smile. “Someone who loves you would be my guess. Someone who wants to see you fulfill your dream of becoming a nurse.” She rose to her feet and headed for the door, pausing in the doorway. “Go see your friend Sam and see what you can find out. That’s the first step, and then you can better determine what to do next.”

♥

Walking into the bank a short time later, Sarah headed toward Gina Armstrong seated behind the reception desk in the middle of Rockbridge Savings & Loan.

“Hi, Sarah. Don’t you look like a vision today?” Gina gave her a bright smile. “Do you need some help?”

“I need to speak with Sam if he’s available. Privately.”

“Of course. Let me check.” Gina picked up her telephone receiver and pushed the intercom button. She drummed her fingernails on the top of her desk while she waited. “Mr. Lewis? Sarah Jordan is here to see you if you have a moment. Of course. Thank you.”

Replacing the receiver, Gina angled her head toward Sam’s office. “He said he could see you now. Go on in.”

“Thanks, Gina. I appreciate it.” Smoothing one hand over the front of her uniform, Sarah swallowed her nerves and lifted her shoulders. Hopefully, Sam wouldn’t be able to tell how nervous she was. Since she’d applied fresh lipstick—something she rarely wore—she ran her tongue over her teeth. Nothing was worse than discovering she’d been carrying on a conversation, especially with a man, with lipstick on her teeth. That’s why she usually stayed far away from lipstick. What had she been thinking?

He’s Sam. Your friend. Talk with him the same as you always do.

She raised her hand to knock on the frosted glass door boasting Sam’s name and title, but the door opened from the inside. “Good morning, Sarah. Nice to see you, as always. Come on in.” Standing aside, Sam ushered her into the office.

“Hi, Sam. I have to start my shift at Perry’s soon, but I need to ask you about something.”

“If you can spare a few minutes, have a seat so we can talk about it.” Waving his hand at the chairs in front of his desk, Sam waited until she seated herself and then took the opposite chair. She noted he left the office door open. Ah, yes, this was Professional Sam. Banker Sam. Sarah drank in the sight of him. Finding it impossible to ignore how handsome he looked in his dark suit with the starched white shirt, she lowered her gaze. But not before noting his ridiculously wide, colorful tie. Although it was the popular style, she found it completely absurd. Was this another way Sam was trying to fit in with popular culture?

“Nice office,” she said, noting the framed diplomas, awards and certificates on the walls.

“My dad insisted I display them all, more for my Mom’s benefit than mine, I assure you.”

Sarah’s jaw gaped. “How could you possibly know what I’m thinking?”

He chuckled. “I don’t always. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Fine. He wanted to stick to business. She could do that. No problem.

“Mom found an envelope containing a cashier’s check under our front door this morning. Drawn on funds from Rockbridge Savings & Loan, with my name as the payee, and for quite a large sum of money.”

One eyebrow rose. “Is that a problem?”

“No, not really. I mean, of course not. It’s a very generous gift, but I don’t know that I can accept it.”

A slight frown downturned his lips. “Not many people come into my office complaining they’ve received a check for too much money.”

“Neither do I know many people in Rockbridge who have that kind of money to throw around in the first place.” Inhaling a quick breath, Sarah willed her pulse to slow down. She didn’t want to come across as accusatory, but she was as confused as she’d ever been in her life. This whole situation made no sense. Sam had to know the identity of her benefactor since he’d signed the check. Or was it possible his dad took care of it and only asked him to countersign? Of course, he’d trust his dad, if that was the case, and he wouldn’t think twice about signing the check.

“Even if they did have the money,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “I can’t imagine anyone who’d anonymously gift me with such a large amount without expecting something in return.”

“You must have a low opinion of the townspeople in Rockbridge.”

“Of course, I don’t,” she snapped. “Please don’t put words in my mouth. I’m just being honest, between us. I could live in any other town in Texas, and I’d probably say the same thing. People are people, Sam. You and I both know—even in the church—members don’t usually donate a large sum of money without expecting their name on a pew or a stained glass window. Or printed in a hymnal. Something.” She stole a glance at him, irritated further by his look of amusement. “You know what I mean. It’s basic human nature. As a rule, people want to be recognized for their generosity, and a public acknowledgment of some form or another is. . .well, it’s more or less expected. No matter how much they might deny it.”

Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs and regarded her with a look of compassion that went a long way toward softening her frustration. “I appreciate your honesty, as always, but the way I look at it, there are plenty of people in Rockbridge who give money for various causes without expecting anything in return. Take the donations for the Benson Fund, for instance. We’ve already gathered more than we need for Marty’s headstone. I seriously doubt any of the people who’ve donated money—including you, since I’ve seen the tip money you drop into the donation can at Perry’s—would expect to be publicly recognized for their generosity.”

Sarah frowned. “You can be insufferably honorable sometimes, Sam Lewis. I might as well go since you’re obviously not going to tell me anything.” Maybe she wasn’t playing fair, but the glimmer of amusement flickering in those blue eyes both infuriated her and attracted her.

“I can tell you plenty of things, but they’re not what I think you want to hear, Sarah. Thanks for the questionable compliment. Never been called insufferably honorable before. At least not to my face.”

“Stick around.” When she glimpsed the broadening grin on his face, she rose from her chair. Perhaps it’d been a mistake to come so soon after she’d received the cashier’s check. She should have reasoned through it some more.

“I plan on it.” Sam lifted out of his chair. “Let me give you another example. Suppose you donated the money for a stained glass window in the church. You can’t tell me you’d need a plaque emblazoned with your name, proclaiming to the world, ‘Sarah Jane Jordan donated the funds for this beautiful, expensive stained glass window’—”

“Do you have any idea how much those are? As much as I’d want to, I couldn’t afford to give that much. . .” She turned away from him. “I dare you to ask how I even know how much those windows cost.”

“I didn’t know you ever played softball near the church.”

She managed a small smile. Again, the man could read her so well. “I never did again, I’ll tell you that much.”

Lightly taking hold of her arms, Sam scanned her face with such affection that she felt lightheaded. “Sarah, baby, the evidence of your giving is everywhere in the church. It’s in the faces of the teenage girls you teach on Sunday mornings.”

“Once a month,” she said. “It’s a rotation.”

Sam raised her chin with a gentle touch of his hand. “Please try to calm down and listen for a minute, okay? My point is, the girls admire you and they look to you as a role model. Mrs. Eldercroft lights up like a light bulb whenever you enter the church. You’re so good with helping her distribute blankets to the residents of the nursing center over in Springhaven. Look, you have to know everyone in town—and probably some outside the town limits—is aware of your plans to attend nursing school.” Releasing her, he took in a deep breath and blew it out. “As much as we all hate it that you won’t be here with us every day, working at Perry’s and walking among us”—a look of sadness surfaced in his expression—“we all want you to fulfill your dream of becoming a nurse.”

“Thanks for making me sound like the dearly departed.”

He returned his gaze to hers. “Accept the gift, Sarah. Say thank you, deposit it, and use it to find your dreams. I assure you it was given with the purest of intentions with no expectations of anything in return other than your personal happiness.”

Sarah blinked hard and nodded. “Thank you, Sam. May I make a suggestion?”

“What’s that?”

“You might want to rethink that tie.”

Lifting his tie, Sam gave her a curious glance. “What’s wrong with my tie? It’s colorful and fun, and it livens up an otherwise boring suit.”

“Your suit’s not boring. It’s very. . .well-tailored. And the jacket doesn’t have a bunch of little annoying buttons.” Sam must not have learned the lesson that the man made the suit, not the other way around. Tess was right about one thing: men could be clueless, especially when it came to clothing. Still, had she actually said those words aloud? Based on the look of male satisfaction that crossed Sam’s face, she had.

“Thank you for noticing my attire.” His gaze settled on her lips. “Nice lipstick, by the way.”

What was it about this man that made her tongue-tied at times? “Thank you for your time. I can show myself out.” She needed to escape was more like it, and she headed for the door. From behind her, she could hear Sam mutter something under his breath a second before he touched her arm.

“You know I’d tell you if I could.”

She faced him again. “I know. You’re bound by professional ethics or whatever. I appreciate that. I really do. I certainly don’t want to cause you any trouble. I’d just like to thank the generous person who gave me this unexpected, lovely gift.” Maybe that statement would convince him. No sooner had the words come from her mouth than she glimpsed the determination in the firm set of Sam’s jaw.

“I can thank them for you, although again, it’s not necessary.”

She lifted her chin. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“I don’t plan on it, no.” Another grin teased the corners of his mouth. Sarah stood her ground and then startled, realizing she was staring at the man’s lips, wondering what it would be like to feel them on hers.

What am I thinking?

“Like I said. Insufferably honorable,” she mumbled under her breath as she exited his office.