Nikki Benjamin - The Major And The Librarian

Sam lifted the large, heavy containers into the wagon for her, then pulled it up to the counter where a clerk tallied her bill. Emma gladly wrote a check, her thoughts racing ahead to the following afternoon—the soonest she would be able to start putting her new rosebushes in the ground.

At the car, Emma spread the tarp she had brought over the floor of the trunk, then stood aside while Sam loaded the containers. Luckily, all six fit quite nicely. And thanks to the deep well, Sam was able to close the lid without crushing the tops of the bushes.

“Are you sure they’ll be all right in there?” he asked with obvious concern.

“They may look delicate, but they’re hearty enough and healthy enough to survive a lot worse than a few hours in the trunk of a car. So don’t worry. They’ll be fine,” she assured him as he helped her into the car.

“My mother told me that you really enjoy gardening,” Sam continued as he settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“Yes, I do, although I’m not sure why. Probably because my mother enjoyed it, and I was the only one around to help her. Everywhere we lived before she died, she always planted something. Usually flowers, but sometimes herbs and vegetables, too…if we moved into a house with a big yard. Even when there was a good chance we wouldn’t be around long enough to see the results of all our hard work. I remember asking her once why she did it. She said it was the only way she could put down roots. All she ever really wanted was to live in one place and have a home of her own, but she never did.”

“You moved around a lot when you were a kid?” Sam asked.

At first, Emma was surprised by his question. She had always assumed he knew as much about her background as Teddy had. Now she realized that wasn’t necessarily so.

Sam had gone off to the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs a year before she and his brother became friends. Granted, he had seen her with Teddy on the rare occasions when he’d been home on leave. But he’d probably had more important things to discuss with his younger brother than the shy little redhead Teddy had taken under his wing.

“Until my mother died,” she replied. “My father had a hard time hanging on to a job. He was always looking for something better, somewhere else. My mother insisted on trailing after him even though she hated always having to start over in a strange place. She loved him so much, and I suppose he loved her, too. But he was never there for her when she really needed him. After a while, the loneliness got to be too much for her and she started drinking.”

Pausing for a moment, Emma stared out the window, recalling a time when her home had been anything but the haven she craved. Clasping her hands in her lap, she drew a breath and pushed back the painful memory of her mother lying on the floor in a drunken stupor.

“She died when I was twelve,” Emma continued matter-of-factly, determined to head off any show of sympathy from Sam. “We were here in San Antonio at the time, but my father was getting ready to move on again. He claimed he couldn’t look after me on his own and dumped me into a foster-care program. I was lucky enough to be placed with the Gruenwalds in Serenity, and except for the years I spent at the university in Austin, I’ve been there ever since. Putting down roots of my own, I suppose.”

“And you’re happy living in such a small town?”

“More than happy,” Emma stated succinctly.

Nothing on earth could tempt her to relive—ever again—the constant upheaval of her childhood years. That was why marrying Teddy had been so important to her. He offered her the kind of stability she needed, and now, although she didn’t have the family she’d always wanted, she had a home of her own. And lonely though it sometimes was, she had long ago convinced herself that was all she really needed.

“Funny, isn’t it?” Sam mused as he shifted into gear and pulled out of the nursery’s lot. “The place used to give me claustrophobia. In fact, I couldn’t wait to get away.”

“I know…” she murmured, then barely caught herself before she added that was what Teddy had told her once. She wasn’t ready to bring him into their conversation yet. Instead, she added, “My foster sisters at the Gruenwalds’ felt exactly the same way. I’m the only one of the four of us who stayed in Serenity. Jane lives in Seattle with her husband and son—my little godson. Megan lives in San Diego with her husband and son. And last I heard, Kathleen was living in New Orleans. Of course, that was almost a year ago. She’s always liked to move from place to place, so she could be anywhere by now.”

“Jane is the one who stayed with you last year, isn’t she? My mother mentioned her in her letters. She also said the two of you went up to Seattle to visit them about six weeks ago.”

“That’s right. We did.”

“Point me toward the needlepoint shop, then tell me about Jane and your trip to Seattle.”

Emma guided Sam back to the freeway and told him which exit to watch for. Then, glad to have something neutral to talk about, she explained briefly how Jane, and eventually her husband, Max, had come to stay with her in the months before the birth of their baby.

What a time that had been for the two of them. But thanks to the power of their love for each other, Jane and Max had solved their problems.

As Emma had six months ago, she wished that could be true for everyone, herself included. Of course, she didn’t say as much to Sam. That could open the door to questions she didn’t want to answer. So she gave him the facts, then went on to talk about the lovely time she and Margaret had had in Seattle.

“So you liked it there,” he said.

“I loved it there. It’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been.”

“But you absolutely, positively wouldn’t ever want to live there?”

“Well, no…” Emma began, then hesitated as she looked out the window.

Actually, she had considered that possibility while she was there, imagining more than once what it might be like to live in one of the high-rise condos within walking distance of Elliott Bay and the Pike Street market or to ferry over from a little cottage on one of the islands as Jane and Max did. Though their house was anything but a cottage—

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“Well, it was awfully nice there. I guess I wouldn’t mind it too much,” she admitted.

“I imagine roses would grow rather nicely there,” Sam said, the barest hint of teasing in his tone.

“Rather nicely, indeed.” Emma gazed out the window thoughtfully, then added, “Still, I was really glad to get home again.”

“Most people usually are. Especially when home is where their heart is.” He paused for only a moment, giving her no time to reply, and when he continued, he changed the subject without seeming to miss a beat. “Looks like we’re getting close. Where do you think we should park?”

Relieved that Sam didn’t expect any reply to his comment, Emma directed him to a small parking lot down a side street near one of the entrances to the Riverwalk. From there, it was only a short walk to the needlepoint shop. Picking up Margaret’s supplies took less than ten minutes since the clerk had the package ready and waiting.

Emma assumed they would go straight back to the car again, but out on the Riverwalk Sam halted, looking around at the milling crowds as he tucked the brown paper bag under his arm.

“I don’t remember this place being so busy. At least not on a Sunday afternoon,” he said.

“San Antonio has become a popular tourist town. Companies from around the country have also begun holding conferences here. Lots of shops and restaurants have opened up along the river over the past few years.”