The Welcome Committee of Butternut Creek (28 page)

They found themselves in a shop with neon pink chairs and curtains that he hadn’t thought the general would enter. Now the man sat in the reception area on one of those feminine chairs and leafed through a book on hairstyles as if he planned to dye his hair blue or get a Mohawk.

When the stylist had completed the cut, Sam studied himself in the mirror.

“How do you like it?” the young woman asked, razor in hand.

He nodded. It looked better. He looked better. Nearly human again. Would Willow like it?

Crap. He hadn’t done this for her. Maybe for the boys, so they wouldn’t get the idea that long hair was masculine. For himself because it was easier, but not for Willow or the general or anyone else.

But the questions remained: Would she like it?

“Nice cut.” Willow admired the new Sam after he settled in the passenger seat. He’d been great looking before, but now he looked gorgeous and tough. She could barely drag her eyes away from him to watch the road.

Sam had pulled himself in and settled in the car without, of course, a smidgeon of help from her, thank you. As she pulled away from the curb, she asked, “What’s the occasion? The long hair didn’t bug your father enough?”

He laughed. “How’d you know?”

“Hey, I have two sons and I’ve worked with military men for years.” She flipped on the blinker to turn onto the highway and toward Marble Falls. “I know ’tude and machismo.”

From Sam’s relaxed position, she guessed he didn’t feel a bit emasculated with her driving. At least, he didn’t hold on to the edge of the seat and point out oncoming cars. They talked comfortably about her life with two sons and his with a military father.

Later, during the movie, he did the stretch-and-drop maneuver to drape his arm over her shoulders. She hadn’t had a man do that since she was a teenager, but it still worked and he had the maneuver down pat. She even put her head on his shoulder and he nuzzled her a little.

When they left the theater, she had no idea what to do next. She hadn’t been the driver on a date before, if this was a date. She decided not to take him to a make-out place, although she remembered a few from her youth. They could go to his house, but the general was probably there with Winnie, which cut down on privacy. The boys would be at her apartment with a sitter, and she wanted to spend more time with Sam. Alone. Talking. Maybe more.

As Mattie and Adam left the theater, he recognized the couple a few yards ahead of them and called, “Hey, Sam, Willow.”

Adam was a little—okay, very—surprised to see the two of them. An odd pair, but they looked good together. When the couple stopped walking and waited for them, Adam asked Sam, “You get a haircut? I can tell you didn’t go to my barber.”

“I learned from your experience.” Sam smiled.

“This is Mattie Patillo, minister at the Presbyterian Church.” Adam nodded at her. “Mattie, I’d like you to meet Willow Thomas, a member of the Christian Church, and my friend Sam Peterson.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Mattie grinned.

“So how’d you like to get something to eat? There’s a coffee shop just down the highway.” Adam pointed. “Easy walk.”

After he said that, Adam glanced at Sam. Could he walk that far? His gait looked good and comfortable now, but would it last?

“What do you think?” Willow asked Sam.

“I’m game,” he said.

Then Sam took Willow’s hand and gazed at her with an emotion Adam hadn’t seen in his eyes before. Of course, the two men had only shared a few pizzas and watched some preseason football so he’d have been unlikely to see tenderness in the soldier’s expression. Thank goodness.

“Sam’s been so good with my sons.” Willow turned toward Adam. “You know Leo and Nick are active kids.”

The minister nodded, still keeping his eyes on Sam.

“I’m very grateful for all he’s done.”

To Adam, the words almost sounded as if the trip to Marble Falls were a debt she was repaying with her presence. Evidently Sam read it that way, too, because he kept his eyes on her face and all the tenderness the minister had glimpsed there seconds before drained away, replaced by a blank stare. When Sam looked away for only a second, Willow’s expression held longing.

What was going on between these two? Would they be good for each other? Maybe. A current flowed between them even as they attempted to ignore it. What could he do to help?

Oh, good Lord. He sounded like Miss Birdie. Immediately he said, “Come on. Let’s go. This place has great pie.”

Willow felt more and more nervous the closer the car got to Butternut Creek. Once or twice she glanced at Sam, then back toward the road.

Now that he was no longer her patient, she really wanted to kiss him again, but she had no idea how to put a move on a guy in the car. Her date had always done that. Was Sam as confused as she was? Probably he’d never put a move on the driver, but she didn’t doubt he’d figure out how.

Maybe she should pull into a dark area, turn toward him, and let him take over, but that sounded passive and unlike her.

“Please don’t let me out under the streetlight in front of my house, because I want to kiss you,” he said, his voice seductive as well as holding a note of amusement.

She glanced at him, then quickly turned her head and kept her eyes on the road. Could she tell him she felt the same without the words catching in her throat?

“I want to kiss you, too.” Yes, she could say that.

He grinned. “Could you find some place to pull over before we get to my house so my father and the neighbors aren’t watching us?”

Life didn’t get much better than that. Well, it would when she stopped but for now, that comment and his smile were enough.

“Especially not Mrs. Gohannon who lives across from you. Biggest gossip in town.” She kept her eyes on the road and drove along the curving highway toward Butternut Creek. In fact, they were nearly to his house before she pulled off into a neighborhood park, turned off the lights and engine, and turned toward him. As he slid across the seat, she held up her hand.

“Not so fast. I have a question for you. “

He groaned. “You overthink everything.”

“That’s probably true, but I need to know this. Why are you interested in me? I’m not like the other women I imagine you’ve dated. I don’t flirt. I’m not a bit girlie.”

“You’re right. You’re nothing like the women I’m usually attracted to. Obviously I’ve been interested in the wrong kind of women.”

Why did he have to be so darned charming? She steeled herself to say, “I’m divorced and have two kids and work long hours.”

“Exactly the kind of woman I’ve been looking for.”

“What? Why?”

He took her hand. That felt really good. How could only a touch fill her with so much pleasure?

“I have no idea,” he said. “I knew you were the one when I first saw you. After I got acquainted with you, I was even more certain.”

She considered that for a few seconds. “You’re not saying it was love at first sight.”

“Probably not. Maybe attraction at first sight or chemistry or a lightning strike, but you are the woman for me. I’m not going away until we can figure this out.” He shrugged. “Maybe we can’t. Maybe we have too many complications, but I want to try.”

He drew his index finger down her cheek and gave her the smile she’d attempted to ignore. As if any woman could.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?”

How could she resist him?

“Okay.” She nodded. “I need to point out that this is a local make-out place so just one kiss. I don’t want the cops to check on us. That would be embarrassing.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder and moved it slowly to her neck.

She took off her seat belt and moved closer to him. “Only a kiss for now.”

“But…”

“Hey.” She held up her hand. “That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.” Oh, sure, as if she’d drive off now. “I want us to get to know each other better.”

“Kissing is a great way…”

“For now I prefer the old-fashioned way. Conversation.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

She grinned and nodded. Then Sam increased the pressure on her shoulder and she slid into his arms, at least as close as she could with the console between them. Since this was to be the only kiss tonight, she hoped it would be good and memorable.

And it was. Oh, Lord, it was.

A few days later, the Widows met at the diner after the lunch rush to discuss the church and duties and who was sick and who needed help.

But they didn’t mention Sam and Willow because they’d done everything they could and weren’t prepared to admit failure or congratulate themselves for possible success. They’d just allow that relationship to simmer.

“What about the preacher?” Winnie asked. “Who else can we find for him?”

“How ’bout that new CEO at the asphalt company?” Mercedes suggested.

“Her husband died not too long ago. She’s not ready.”

“I’m fixin’ to give up on him,” Birdie said. “And you know how much I hate to concede defeat.”

“I had hopes for Howard’s niece,” Mercedes said. “Too bad she was only visiting for a week.”

Birdie shook her head. “Left before we could even introduce them.”

“Not a spark between Pastor Adam and Reverend Patillo?” Winnie asked.

“None at all. Lost cause.” Birdie shook her head. “All right,” she stated. “Let’s get down to business. Winnie, take notes.” Birdie didn’t think of Winnie as the third Widow, not like Mercedes did. In Birdie’s mind, Winnie was a provisional Widow. Maybe a Widow-in-waiting but not a full-fledged Widow, not yet. But she did take good notes.

When Winnie nodded, Mercedes, chair of the church elders, said, “Don’t forget, there’s an elders’ meeting Wednesday evening. Will you both be there?”

The other two nodded.

“And we need to call a meeting of all the women of the church about the spring festival,” Birdie said.

Before they could really get started—because Butch did make those nice apple coffee cakes for the diner and each had a healthy slice—Birdie’s cell rang. After a short conversation, she turned it off and stood, fixing the other women with an unwavering gaze. “Ladies, we are needed.”

Mercedes and Winnie leaped to their feet, gathered their purses and totes, and followed Birdie.