Mia Ross - A Place for Family

“We’re scraping by,” he said curtly. “Some folks prefer hard work to glitz and glamour.”

“I’m done with all that, and the advertising and PR agency, too. I’m coming home.” Not completely by choice, but she had no intention of discussing that with him.

“Uh-huh.”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not. It’s the truth.”

“Whatever.” When she glowered back at him, he shook his head in typical male bewilderment. “You look a little flushed. We should get you in outta the heat.”

The thoughtful suggestion soothed her frayed nerves, and she gave him a grateful smile. “Sounds good to me.”

She opened the back door to get her one bag. A no-name duffel, it made her long for her matching set of Louis Vuittons. Then again, you didn’t need Louis when you’d sold most of your clothes. At least she’d managed to keep the gorgeous Prada shoes she was wearing. Custom-made, they wouldn’t have fit anyone else. Still, she’d worn them to the auction, just in case any of those bargain-hunting divas got any bright ideas.

After slamming the door closed, she realized that her bag smelled like smoke. That meant all the clothes inside did, too. Considering the endless string of horrible circumstances she was currently mired in, she should be glad they hadn’t been reduced to ashes. Fortunately, her suit had escaped the worst of the smoke, which meant she could avoid the cost of dry-cleaning it. Although pickings were proving to be very slim, she was hoping she’d need it for more interviews.

John held out his hand, and she couldn’t imagine what he wanted. “What?”

“I know you’ve been in the big city awhile,” he answered with a crooked grin, “but around here, guys don’t let ladies carry heavy bags.”

“Oh.” She blinked, then said, “It smells awful.”

“That’s okay,” he replied as he swung it onto his shoulder. “So do I.”

* * *

They both laughed, and John saw some of the tension leave her shoulders. As he started across the open field, she stopped him with a disgusted noise.

“You’re kidding, right?” she demanded, as if he’d suggested they walk to the moon.

He pointed toward the house in the distance. “It’s quicker to cross lots.”

“Not in these.” She angled her ridiculously high heels so he could see what she meant.

“So take ’em off.”

“And drag these gorgeous Armani trousers through the mud? I don’t think so.”

“It’s half a mile if we walk up the road.” She gave him a chiding look, and he sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”

John changed course and fell in step beside her. She seemed preoccupied, which gave him a chance to assess this near-stranger who had interrupted his plowing.

He didn’t like what he saw.

As if the shoes weren’t enough, her navy pantsuit was cut pretty close to the bone, giving her an angular, almost masculine appearance. Maybe it worked in L.A., but John didn’t think much of it. For some crazy reason, she’d flattened her natural curls so she resembled a blond version of Cleopatra. Then there was the makeup. Applied with a trowel, it was photo-shoot perfect but covered the dusting of freckles that used to pop up on the bridge of her nose.

Even her personality seemed to have changed. He didn’t remember her being so fussy, but spending years in a big, hectic city like Los Angeles would probably do that to anyone. Since he’d never lived anywhere but Harland, he wouldn’t know.

When he realized they’d trudged along in silence for quite a while, he searched for something to say. “How’re your parents liking Arizona?”

“Fine. Dad’s dropped six strokes off his golf handicap. He says if he’d retired sooner, he’d be headed for the Champions Senior Golf Tour by now.”

“And your mom?”

“Is the activities director at their condo’s community center. She knows everyone and everything that’s going on there, so she’s happy.”

Something in Amanda’s tone seemed off to him, but they hadn’t seen each other in so long, he couldn’t be sure about it. And even if he was right, it was none of his business.

“Yeah, she always did throw a good party. Is your brother out there, too?”

“He and his family live in Wisconsin. How about the Sawyers?” she asked. “Are you all still around here?”

“Yup. You remember Caty McKenzie?” When she nodded, he went on. “Well, she married Matt, and they had Hailey a couple months ago. Marianne married his best man, Ridge Collins, last year, and now they’re adding twins to the two kids she already had. And Lisa married Ruthy’s nephew, Seth, last month. They’re in Europe on their honeymoon right now.”

“Wow! There’s been a lot going on.” After a few moments, she paused and pulled him to a stop. “I heard Ethan passed away a few years ago. I’m so sorry.”

Coming out of the blue that way, her sympathy hit John like a truck. The latest in a long line of farmers, he wasn’t the type to fret about things beyond his control. You worked hard and planned, then you adjusted when life threw you a curveball. There had been plenty of those in the last three years, starting with his father’s wrenching death from a heart attack.

The tragedy had affected the Sawyers in some remarkable ways. Matt finally came home and mended fences with Marianne, then settled in Harland for good. It made Marianne rethink her priorities, and she was one class away from earning her master’s in teaching. It even encouraged baby sister Lisa to use her artistic talent to start an interior-design business.

John hadn’t changed, though. He was still trying to come to grips with the fact that if he’d been paying more attention during that long, hot day of haying, their father would still be alive. Matt and the girls kept telling him he couldn’t have known anything was wrong, and he had to quit blaming himself. So far, he hadn’t been able to manage that.

When he realized Amanda was watching him, he jerked himself back to the present. “Thanks.”

“I know how much he meant to you. It must have been really hard.”

Sympathy shone in her vivid blue eyes, coming through the phony makeup with an honesty that told him his childhood best friend was still in there somewhere.

Sure, he scoffed silently. The friend who had flown across the country the day after graduation and promptly forgotten all about him. No phone calls, no letters, no emails, nothing. It was as if she’d kicked the dust of Harland off her fancy shoes and never looked back.

Being a Sawyer boy, he’d appreciated girls for as long as he could remember. Tall, short, slender, curvy, blonde, brunette or redhead—it really didn’t matter to him. He enjoyed them all, and they returned the favor. John wasn’t in the market for anything serious, and he was always up-front about that.

Amanda Gardner had been different. His best friend, the one who always listened when he talked, even if he didn’t say things quite right. The one he confided in when his latest girlfriend baffled him. He and Amanda had been close for so long, he’d thought she’d always be in his life somehow.

Until the day she wasn’t.

He’d waited for her to contact him, give him an address to send letters to, something. Anything. As the years went by, he wondered about her less and less, until he finally decided she was gone for good. Of all the girls he’d known, it was the one he’d trusted most who had hurt him. Girlfriends came and went without causing all that much damage.

Losing his best friend had broken his heart. Since it looked as if she was actually moving back to Harland, he had to make sure that didn’t happen again.

* * *

When John fell silent, Amanda felt horrible for upsetting him. Ethan’s death seemed long ago to her, but obviously for John the pain was still very fresh. Expressing her condolences was appropriate, she reminded herself, the polite thing to do. She hadn’t meant to make him sad. Still, she felt awful about it.