LITMIR.BIZ

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climbed into—of all people— Ruth Greer’s lap. And Ruth, who only moments before looked as if her face might crack if she moved her lips, gave Jamie the sweetest of smiles. “Are you sad, Ruthie?” Jamie asked.

      “A little,” Ruth said. “But Floyd wouldn’t want us to be sad. If he were here, he’d tell us to wake up—”

      “And enjoy the day,” Jamie finished. “I bet he’s saying the same thing in heaven.”

      Ruth brushed a stray hair from Jamie’s forehead. “I’m sure you’re right.”

      Jamie slid from Ruth’s lap and took her hand. “Can we go work on the quilt, Ruthie?”

      Savannah recalled the wedding-ring quilt she’d worked on with her mother when she was a little older than Jamie. The quilt she’d refused to work on after they’d moved to Placid.

      “Maybe we should go home and let Ruth rest, Jamie,” Sam interjected.

      “Nonsense,” Ruth said. “You come on in the house with me, sweet girl, and we’ll cut out a square or two, as long as your dad says it’s okay.”

      “Can I, Daddy?” Jamie pleaded in a voice designed to persuade a resistant parent. Savannah had used that tactic with her own father and it never failed to work wonders.

      “For a while,” Sam said. “Gracie needs you to help her bake some cookies when we get home, remember?”

      Jamie rolled her eyes. “I can do both, Daddy.”

      And just like that, Savannah’s mother led Sam’s child through the screen door without a second glance at her own daughter.

      Savannah didn’t know how to feel. Sad? Yes. Memories of a better time brought about some serious melancholy. Envious? A little, but not of Jamie. The envy came from the thought of what could have been between mother and daughter if their relationship hadn’t gone sour.

      Bill shoved out of his chair and offered his hand to May. “Guess we better get to town before lunchtime, darlin’.”

      May stood and sent her husband a smile. “That sounds like a plan.”

      Not to Savannah. If they left, she’d be all alone with Sam. “I could go for you, Aunt May.”

      From the appearance of Sam’s cynical grin, he’d noticed the desperation in her tone.

      May flipped her hand in a dismissive gesture. “We’ll take care of it, honey. We just need to pick up your mother’s headache medicine and a few groceries at the market.”

      Groceries? They still had a mountain of food left from the wake. “Are you sure? It wouldn’t be any bother.”

      Bill fished a set of keys from his pocket. “You just stay here, little britches, and visit with your friend.”

      She would if she had a real friend present. Unless she found an excuse to make a hasty departure, she had no choice but to be stuck with Sam since her relatives had already made it halfway to the car before she could say another word. If she didn’t know better, she might believe this little private time between ex-lovers had been planned.

      Tension as stifling as the humidity hung on the air as Savannah drummed her fingers on the table’s surface. She supposed going into the house was an option, but she didn’t want him to think she couldn’t handle a few minutes in his presence. After all the times they’d talked for endless hours about nothing—or everything—she couldn’t thing of one blasted thing to contribute to a decent conversation.

      Fortunately, Sam broke the silence by saying, “Gracie wants you to stop by before you leave.”

      “I will,” she said. “And I still can’t believe Gracie hung around after the grief you gave her.”

      He rocked the glider slightly with one heel. “She’s still around because she married Dad a couple of years ago.”

      Just one more monumental event she hadn’t been aware of. “I’m really glad for them.” And she was. No two people were better suited for each other. At one time, she would have said the same thing about her and Sam.

      He leaned forward and dangled his arms between his parted knees. Another span of silence passed before he asked, “How’s your mother holding up?”

      Savannah shrugged. “Okay, I guess. You know Ruth. She’s not one to share her feelings. Me, on the other hand, I still can’t believe he’s gone…?.” The nagging lump in her throat captured her words for the time being. She didn’t care to cry in front of Sam. In front of anyone, for that matter. Not that she hadn’t cried in his arms before. Many, many times. But that was then, and this was now, and she didn’t need his solace, nor did she expect him to offer it.

      “Floyd talked about you all the time,” Sam said, his voice surprisingly absent of animosity.

      Savannah could only imagine how thrilled Sam must have been to hear regular accounts of her life. “I didn’t realize you spent so much time with my father.”

      He leaned back against the swing. “We had our share of discussions about farming and the latest fertilizer, that sort of thing, but your name came up a lot. He thought you could do no wrong.”

      “We both know that’s not true, don’t we?” When he didn’t bother to argue the point, she added, “He didn’t particularly care for you, at least when we were growing up, especially that time he caught you climbing up the trellis. I still can’t believe you handed him that ‘cat caught in a tree’ excuse when we didn’t even own a cat.” She couldn’t believe she was playing the remember-when game with a man who clearly had no intention of participating, evident by his lack of response.

      He just sat there, studying her with narrowed eyes as if preparing to take his best shot. “Floyd wanted you to be happy, so are you?”

      Savannah heard no genuine concern in his tone, only mild curiosity. In fact, he’d probably like to hear that her life was a mess just so he could say he’d told her so. “I have a great condo and a great job.”

      He came to his feet, pulled out a chair and sat across from her. “No boyfriend? Or do you have several?”

      Savannah hadn’t expected he’d ask such a leading question or that he would come so close to her. Then again, most likely he’d traveled into her personal space and private life to throw her off balance. In a way, it was working. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle as if she needed protection from him. Maybe she did. “I really don’t think you should be so concerned about my dating habits.” Which were basically nil at the moment, a little tidbit she didn’t dare toss out.

      “Then the answer is no boyfriend.” He looked much too pleased with himself.

      She’d rather eat red dirt than admit four years had passed since she’d had a serious relationship. “The answer is, it’s none of your business.”

      “Sorry to hear you don’t have someone to keep you occupied.”

      No, he wasn’t, and why did so many people believe she needed a man to be content? “I have a lot to do to keep me occupied, thank you very much. Chicago is a very exciting place. Lots of things to see and do.”

      “Unlike Placid.”

      “Definitely not like Placid,” she said. “I don’t have to travel far to shop for a decent pair of shoes.”

      He barked out a cynical laugh. “I still remember the day we met. You were hoppin’ mad because there wasn’t a mall nearby.”

      She’d been angry over leaving her friends behind in Knoxville and moving to Podunk, Mississippi. “I was barely fourteen, Sam. At the time, hanging out at the mall was my life.”

      “You were spoiled, that’s for sure.”

      Savannah’s ears began to ring. “I wasn’t spoiled. I just happened to be a typical teenager, not some hay-seed who thought riding

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