The One She Left Behind

“Probably not, because I never told him about that.”

Of course he hadn’t. “Good. I wouldn’t want her to know exactly how conniving her father can be.”

He narrowed his eyes into a glare. “That’s a little of that old ‘pot calling the kettle black’ behavior, isn’t it?”

So much for friendly conversation. In an effort to avoid more conflict, Savannah asked, “Are you still raising pigs?”

“Cattle. Last year I bought the Miller place so I could have extra pasture.”

One more shocker among many. “That land has been in the Miller family for years. I never thought I’d see the day when they’d give it up.”

Sam’s expression turned suddenly somber. “They’re not the only ones, Savannah. The Delta is economically depressed and people are suffering. Whole towns have closed up shop and family farms are being bought up by vultures like Wainwright. It makes me sick to see it happening and not be able to do a damn thing about it.”

“Then why do you stay?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Anger called out from his eyes and in his voice when he said, “Because my family helped build this town. Because if I don’t stay, then Placid might not survive. I’ll spend my last dying breath trying to prevent that from happening. Maybe you had no trouble walking away without looking back, but I never would.”

Sam’s loyalty to the town wasn’t new to Savannah, nor was his continued condemnation of her choices. Many times in the past he’d echoed the same sentiments. Still, she couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to champion a possible lost cause, or choose to permanently reside in a place with so few opportunities. Then again, she’d always known that Sam had wanted nothing more than a simple way of life. “I guess we both got what we wanted. I have my law career, and you got the farm, wife and child. Congratulations on meeting your goals.”

“Minus the wife,” he corrected, his gaze now fixed on some unknown focal point in the front yard.

“I’m so sorry to hear it didn’t work out with you and Darlene.” She couldn’t seem to mask the falseness in her tone.

He finally looked at her again. “We tried to make it work, but some things aren’t meant to be. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

So had Savannah, and she’d never forgotten it.

The crunch of gravel beneath tires drew their attention to the driveway and the truck approaching the house in a cloud of dust. A truck she didn’t recognize until the driver exited the cab.

Matthew Boyd strolled up the path to the porch sporting a wide grin. To Savannah, he looked much the same with his light brown hair and eternally tanned skin that made him seem more surfer than veterinarian.

He walked right up to the table and stared down on her feet. “I swear, Savannah Leigh, you haven’t changed a bit. You still hate wearing shoes.”

Savannah stood and gave him a tight hug. “And you still love pointing that out, don’t you?” She looked around him toward the truck. “Where’s Rachel?”

“Buried in the clinic’s bookkeeping,” he said as he shook Sam’s hand. “She’s been under the weather, so she’s behind.”

Savannah reclaimed her chair and thankfully Matt took a seat between her and Sam. “I heard you mention Rachel’s not feeling well at the funeral,” she said. “Is it summer flu?”

Matt raked his cowboy hat off his head and swiped his arm across his forehead. “Could be. She’s been feeling better the past few days, which is why I’m here. She sent me by to invite you to join us at Barney’s tonight.”

Talk about a past-blast. “That old bar’s still open?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s open,” Sam said.

“And Barney even serves food now with the beer,” Matt added.

Savannah laughed. “He’s always served food. Box pizza and cold hot dogs, or so I’ve heard.” She’d only been to the place once, but she’d never gone inside. She’d waited in the car with Sam and Rachel while Matt retrieved his drunken father one weekend.

“Wednesday night is all-you-can-eat-ribs night,” Matt said.

“Sounds interesting.” Not that she was overly fond of ribs or beer.

“Anyway,” Matt continued, “we thought it might be nice to get the gang back together while you’re in town. Chase has already agreed to come and so has Sam.”

She couldn’t believe Sam hadn’t mentioned the little get-together during their conversation. Oh, yes, she could. He probably didn’t want her to go. “What about Jess?”

Matt shook his head. “Rachel’s going to call her, but don’t get your hopes up. Dalton keeps a pretty tight rein on her these days. We sure as hell don’t want him around, not that he’d show up. But he’s probably not going to let her come, either.”

Savannah was appalled to learn that her good friend Jessica—the former gregarious cheerleader—would let her husband dictate her every move. “I hope she does show up, because I’m really looking forward to seeing her. But if she doesn’t, I planned to stop by her house in the next few days anyway.”

“So are you game?” Matt asked. “It’s way past time to have a proper reunion of the original six-pack.”

For some stupid reason, she glanced at Sam as if she needed his permission. Worse still, he just sat there in silence, looking completely noncommittal. She could probably list a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t accept, but only one immediately came to mind. “I don’t remember how to get there.”

Matt pushed back from the table and stood. “You can ride with us. Is seven okay?”

“Seven sounds fine, if I decide to go. I’ll need to check with my mother first.” Apparently coming home had turned her into a child again.

“I imagine Ruth won’t care if you spend a couple of hours with old friends,” Matt said, then pointed at Sam. “Talk her into it, McBriar.”

Sam’s smirk turned into a frown. “She’s a grown woman. She can make up her own mind. If she doesn’t want to do something, then I sure as hell can’t make her do it.”

In Savannah’s opinion, he’d all but confirmed he would rather she not show up. That alone served as a good enough reason to attend the little soiree. “I’ll take you up on the ride.”

Matt grinned. “Great. We’ll pick you up around seven-thirty.”

“Didn’t you say seven?” Savannah asked.

“Yeah, but you know Rachel. She’s always late.” Before Matt started down the steps, he turned and looked at Sam, then back at Savannah. “Hope the two of you get along for a change. I don’t want to deal with a barroom brawl and risk throwing my back out.”

Sporting a wily grin, Matt spun around and walked away, leaving Savannah without any retort. She could tolerate Sam for a few hours. Besides, she truly wanted to connect with her old friends, even if she didn’t count Sam among them.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Savannah?”

She turned to her left to find Sam leaning against the railing, arms folded across his chest, looking much like he had when she’d left the diner the other day. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“It means spending an entire night with me.”

An entire night? “It’s just an hour or two, Sam. We don’t have to communicate at all or even come near each other.”

His smile formed only halfway. A somewhat skeptical smile. “Yeah, you’re right. As long as you don’t have more than one drink.”

Another series of flashbacks ran through Savannah’s mind like a long-ago slide show. Memories of one night beneath the stars in his arms after she’d had her first wine. She shook off the recollections and firmed her frame. “Believe me, I can handle myself much better these days.”

Truth be known, she was a little worried and it had nothing to do with booze. Having a somewhat tense conversation with Sam on a porch in the sunlight seemed innocuous enough. But being in the presence of a former lover in a dim bar after a couple of drinks could wreak havoc on her common sense.

Not a chance. She didn’t intend to have more than one drink, if that. And she certainly wasn’t going to re-enact the mistakes of her youth.