Page 5 of The Texas Hero's Homecoming

She turned her back on the two men and began loading the dishwasher. They’d ganged up on her. Now, not only would she have to perform a speedy miracle getting the festival in shape, she had to do it working alongside Sam. She wasn’t ready for that. She hated that she needed his help. There was no doubt he’d be an asset, but Lord, her emotions were already tied up in knots, having to sell the farm, disappoint her father, and pretend that she wasn’t greatly affected by either.

“Autumn, why don’t you serve Sam some of your delicious pie,” Papa said, rising slowly, gripping the edge of the table for support. “And I will say good night now.” He walked over to her, gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered, “You be nice to him now.”

Her teeth ground together. She wasn’t ready to be alone with Sam. She didn’t think she ever would be again and now, thanks to her father’s kind heart, she would have to dish him up pumpkin pie. She filled her lungs and then smiled for her father. “Good night, Papa. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Just a good night’s sleep is all I need. Good night, Sam.”

“’Night,” he said.

Her father left the room and she swiveled around to Sam’s hopeful expression.

“I’m not about to refuse pie.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“Why would I? You make it fresh from your own pumpkins. It’s the best pie around. Shar-Pies is a close second. But if you repeat that, I’ll deny it.”

“Stop doing that, Sam.”

He jerked his head up, his eyes sharp on her. “What am I doing?”

“Complimenting me. Being charming.”

“You think I’m charming?”

“Well, no. Not on your life. But you’re trying and not doing a very good job.”

Sam’s shoulders fell and he shook his head. “Autumn, you always did have a vivid imagination.”

“Sam, don’t pretend to know me. You don’t.”

“That’s fair. I don’t. Not anymore.”

This conversation was going nowhere. She grabbed the pie tin from the fridge, set it on the table and cut Sam a generous piece. She remembered how much he enjoyed pie. One time, he and Joe polished off an entire pie by themselves, and Joe blamed it on their dog, Lupe. But it didn’t fool anyone. Everyone knew who the culprits were and, back then, she wouldn’t have ratted them out. No way. She was their loyal follower.

She shoved the dish toward him. “Here you go.”

She turned around to reheat coffee from this morning. Her father liked to drink it all day long.

“Aren’t you going to have some with me?” he asked.

She shook her head. “If I had pie every time I served it to someone, I’d be as big as this house.”

A deep chuckle rose from his throat. “I guess then, you don’t eat much of it, because you look fine to me.”

“Fine?” She turned from the coffeepot and glared at him.

“Better than fine, Autumn.” He gave her body a once-over, approval gleaming in his eyes. Darn, he was charming. And she didn’t like it. Not one bit. “Not nearly as big as this house.”

She tossed a dish towel at him. He caught it just before it smacked him in the face. “Still have a temper, I see,” he said, folding the dish towel and setting it aside.

“Maybe you just bring out the bad side of me.”

“Maybe, I do. But we have to work together now, so try to control yourself.”

“You see? It’s when you say stuff like that, that gets me… ugh.” She poured his coffee. “Never mind.”

Sam chuckled again and dug into the pie. Seeing him sitting at the table, just like before, when he was younger, made her heart ache. She turned from him. Why did he come here? Why did he have to impose himself into their lives again? She’d suffered enough, in those earlier years. He had no idea how he’d ruined her that one night. She didn’t look at another man for two years, much less date one. She’d sheltered herself, bitter over him, over having to run the farm, when the two things she’d wanted most seemed far out of reach. Sam and teaching. Teaching and Sam. That was all she’d wanted in life.

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