“Because that’s what I am. I’ve come home,” he said flatly.
Samantha couldn’t believe her ears. After all he’d put her through, all the tears she’d shed after he’d left her high and dry, he had the unmitigated gall to return and go back to work as if nothing had changed. How dare he!
* * *
Seeing Samantha again had been disquieting to begin with. Seeing her with the perp’s loaded gun in her hand had dealt him such a staggering blow he’d almost been rendered speechless.
Although Sam was prettier than ever, she now exhibited an element of authority and expertise that floored him. The last time they’d been together Sam had clung to him, crying and begging him to stay in Serenity. She’d acted as if she couldn’t bear to see him go and was positive she couldn’t live without him.
Now, however, she was behaving with such self-assurance he was stunned. His high school sweetheart had grown up in his absence. Boy, had she!
Waiting until the addict had been escorted to a patrol car and stuffed into the backseat, John approached her for the second time.
She looked up from her task of packaging the quilt and the child’s clothing. She didn’t speak, didn’t smile.
John cleared his throat. “I think we got off on the wrong foot just now. It’s good to see you again, Sam.”
All she did was nod.
“Nice job calming the suspect. Just don’t try anything like that again.”
He’d thought she might reply because her jaw dropped slightly but she snapped it shut and kept mum. “I told you I was sorry a hundred times,” he said quietly so others wouldn’t overhear. “What happened between us in the past was for the best, Sam. You and I both know that.”
With a noisy sigh and shake of her head she regarded him for long seconds before she finally spoke. “I’d adjusted fine to you being a detective in Dallas, John. What the… What are you doing back in Serenity?”
“You don’t sound happy to see me.”
“Happy? Happy is getting the gun away from Bobby Joe Boland and saving that little boy’s life. There was no joy in going through the struggles I faced after you left me. I won’t do it again. Not for anything.”
Floored, he stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and tried to look unconcerned. He’d thought he’d made Samantha understand his desire to better himself, to advance his career. Surely she must have had some empathy because she’d insisted she wanted to do the same thing in regard to nursing. They had both succeeded. He’d just had to move away in order to accomplish his goals and she’d been able to do it right there in Serenity.
“I kind of hoped you’d be glad to see me, Sam. It’s nice that you’re doing so well.” He gestured toward the area where the doctor and nurse were smiling at the formerly unconscious boy. “Looks like a good save.”
“This time. I wish I could rescue them all.”
“Kids, you mean?”
“Yeah.” Another sigh. “There are so many like…”
“Like you used to be?” he offered. When her eyes narrowed and she glared at him he was afraid he’d reminded her too much of her own childhood.
“I managed. And I’m still managing,” Samantha said, closing and tagging the bag of belongings that would go in the medevac chopper that was going to transport the child to a bigger hospital. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
“Maybe I’ll see you in church Sunday?”
You could have knocked him over with a feather when she said, “Not a chance. I don’t go to church anymore.”
“Why not?” The way John remembered their youth, Sam’s faith had seemed stronger than his. What in the world would make her stop attending worship services?
At first he didn’t think she was going to answer. When she lifted her chin higher and said, “Because I got tired of everybody asking me about you,” he wished she hadn’t told him the truth.
* * *
The swing shift sped by for Samantha. Weary and eager to get home and relax, she clocked out at midnight, grabbed her purse and headed for her compact, blue sedan.
Overhead lights cast a yellowish glow across the medical-center parking lot. Fall breezes were scattering dry leaves and either piling them against the tires of the few remaining vehicles, or tumbling them down the hill into the farmers’ mowed fields beyond.
Samantha turned up the collar of her fleece jacket and clasped her arms across her chest to help ward off the chill. She knew she hadn’t been the same since she’d seen John again and she didn’t like the feelings of loss—and of buried anger—that kept washing over her.