Smoky Mountain Sweethearts. Cheryl Harper
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even if he had made up most of that, was one way to turn her from worried opponent to supportive ally.
“It’s not a written policy, Mom,” Sam said. It would be illegal even if it was never written. “It’s better, makes the work easier, if the strings are limited.”
Her disgusted huff was loud and clear in the sunny front yard.
“You know, Avery is almost a lawyer,” Janet said slowly. “Didn’t you take a bunch of courses in employment laws or something?”
This time, Sam knew his own eyes held a wicked glint. He’d never planned on dragging her further into the mess, but it was nice to watch her squirm.
“Labor laws, and yes, but I was concentrating on contracts,” Avery said as she limped through the gate in the fence line. “And as you repeatedly remind me, I never finished that degree. Besides that, there’s no way that is a policy, written or unwritten.” She crossed her arms over her chest, feisty in the bright sunshine because she knew his game and was determined to play to win. “He’s reaching for an excuse, Ms. B. If he finds the right girl, he’ll change his tune.”
Sam ran a hand down his nape, off balance and uncertain which argument to make. Avery would shut it down, whatever tack he chose. “Doesn’t change the fact that Avery is about as low on the list of possible suspects as could be. My match? She’ll beat me to the top of Yanu Falls.” He crossed his arms over his chest, a perfect mirror of her annoyed pose. “Fair and square.”
Her face had more color after a full night of rest, but she needed a push. He could push.
The atmosphere of a rousing cat-and-mouse game evaporated as Avery stomped closer to his reserve truck. “Let’s go get the car. Straight there. Straight back. We don’t negotiate with terrorists or matchmakers.”
Before Sam had a chance to agree or disagree, Avery yanked the door open and slid inside.
He propped his hands on his hips and tried to decide how he’d lost control of the conversation and whether or not he was going to take her interference in stride. Normally, his mother was the only managing woman in his life and he loved her enough to go along with it. Every now and then, Janet Abernathy took a step forward and did string-pulling, and he could accept that good-naturedly because she was his mother’s best friend and she loved him almost as much as his mother did.
The last thing he’d want, though, was to sign up for a third bossy female. Avery was glaring at him through the windshield and made a “hurry up” motion with her hand.
“You know, it would tick her off if you go for a drive through town. It’s your day off. Live a little.” His mother picked up the empty containers he’d left on the porch railing. “If your trip takes long enough, I’ll have dinner ready and we can refill these before you go home.”
“Take her by the pie place,” Avery’s mother said. “Girl needs to eat and you remember how she loved it.” The pie place stood across the main street from Sweetwater’s library. Avery had loved both.
“You two are determined one of us is going to end up in the hospital, aren’t you?” Sam smiled and stepped away.
Slowly he strolled back through the grass and approached his truck. He bent his head through the driver’s-side window and said, “You could ask nicely, you know. A girl who wants a favor ought to try that first.”
“Okay, but a woman who knows how to make you sorry is sitting in this seat,” Avery said sweetly. “Don’t make me go crying to your mother.”
The old, familiar threat had lost little of its power, but Sam was happier, more relaxed than he had been in days as he slid behind the wheel. He’d almost forgotten the fact that he was waiting for an email. He was still stuck right where he was, but he could put off checking his email for an hour or two. Avery was here to distract him. “Fine, but we have to make a stop first.”
If rolling eyes could have a sound, hers would. She’d always been so dramatic. That was what made it fun to pester her until she reacted. “Okay, but if there’s not a fried pie in my future, your afternoon is going to take a terrible downhill turn.”
Sam was grinning as he backed down the lane. Until he remembered their audience and cursed under his breath.
“What?” Avery said as she checked over her shoulder for traffic on their dead-end gravel road.
“I was acting like I was enjoying myself. We don’t want to encourage them.” Sam immediately assumed a scowl. Let them think whatever Avery said had wiped away his good mood. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t, but he glanced over at her. “If they gang up on us, can we prevail?”
Avery blinked slowly at him. “Prevail?” She whistled. “I like it. A battle of good versus evil, all over our dating lives.” She rolled down the window and stuck her head out, the breeze ruffling short gold curls instead of the long, messy ponytail she’d had at seventeen.
It took him a minute to drag his eyes back to the road. The mix of old Avery, the wild girl who’d leaned half her body out of the car to catch the breeze, and the new Avery, a woman with closely cropped hair with a touch of silver here and there, confused him. He could see the girl, even though he would say he wouldn’t have recognized the woman without a clue when he’d found her on the mountain trail.
Time in Sweetwater was bringing her back to life.
She’d caught him watching her.
“What? A beautiful fall day is perfect for the windblown hairstyle. Soon we’ll have cold and rain. Might as well enjoy it to the fullest.” Avery ran a hand through her hair. “I haven’t done that in so long. It feels good, wind blowing through my hair.”
Sam nodded. “Sure. There’s a lot less of it to mess up now, too. And if we don’t get some rain soon, this whole place will be a dust pile. Driest summer and early fall we’ve had in a decade.”
Sam wasn’t watching but he heard what he thought might be the snap of her teeth. Was she grinding them together? “What did I say?”
“As if you don’t know.” Avery pulled up one leg and braced it on the dashboard like old times. “I can’t tell if you really don’t like my hair or you’re poking again, trying to get a rise.”
Sam tightened his hand on the steering wheel. It was a bit of both, if he was being honest.
Still, he wasn’t a fool. Commenting on a woman’s hair was a minefield of wrong decisions.
“It was simpler, less fuss. Straightening it every day was such a hassle and I had more important things to worry about.” She played with the hair at her temples. “Robert didn’t like it, either, but it had to be done. Believe me, deciding to cut my hair wasn’t the hardest thing I did, but it sure wasn’t easy. Losing that ponytail was like...”
Sam waited for her to finish the sentence but she shook her head. Even if he’d managed to punch through the sadness that made her seem so fragile when he’d met her on the trail, some of it hovered around her now. He wanted to chase it away again, but not by his usual means.
He studied her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed so vulnerable, but every conversation was revealing enough of her grit to reassure him AA was still in there.
“It was like saying goodbye to myself, the person I knew I was,” Avery said softly.
If he reached over to give her an encouraging hug, she’d make him regret it.
The urge to do it anyway was something he had to get under control.
“If we’re going to the library and the pie shop, you’re going to have to drive faster. The library closes at five.” Avery tapped the digital display on the dashboard. “And since I’m out of the house like a perfectly normal human being who has no worrying grief or latent suicidal tendencies, I want my prizes.”
That was what he wanted to talk to her about, whatever it was that had her mother