Page 71 of The Texas Hero's Homecoming

“Call me Bethany, please.”

“Only if you call me Autumn.”

They smiled at each other and soon after Bethany left the classroom, a new sense of hope emerged, a single ray of light filtered into her bleak mind. Pieces in her mental puzzle were starting to come together. She began thinking of alternatives to selling the farm and the thoughts kept popping into her head, a mile a minute. But before she could do anything, she had to speak with Blake Charles, her Realtor.

*

Autumn drove downthe highway listening to Blake Shelton’s latest hit, but there’d be no singing along, no humming in the car. The music was merely a distraction to keep her from thinking of Sam, and just before the turn that led to the farm, a red truck whizzed by her, going in the opposite direction. There was no mistaking Sam behind the wheel, his cowboy hat low on his forehead, keeping his eyes shaded from the afternoon sun.

Her heart sped up, and pain immediately slashed across her body like a lightning bolt. He’d been to the farm. She didn’t want to ban him from coming over, but she didn’t welcome it either.

Her feelings for Sam were complicated to say the least. She didn’t exactly know how they were going to live in the same community without seeing each other from time to time. But she surely couldn’t be his friend. Or anything close to that. He’d broken her heart twice now, and no, the third time wouldn’t be the charm.

She made the turn signaling left on the highway and once she arrived home, she parked her car in front of the house and closed her eyes, trying to steady her nerves. Seeing Sam, just in that instant brought back all the hurt and anger and frustration.

A minute later, she opened her door and walked into the parlor. Her gaze immediately latched onto a vase on the table, next to where Papa was sitting, filled with a dozen long-stemmed roses, the petals a deep crimson, vivid and velvety smooth. He raised his brows at her. “They’re for you,querida.”

She marched over to them, plucked up the card, catching her fingertip on a thorn. “Ouch.”

“Careful.”

“I’m trying to be, Papa.”

She glanced at the note and read it silently.I’M SORRY. SAM.

She didn’t know how to feel about this. It was a gesture. She appreciated his effort, she supposed. But it wouldn’t make things right. “He was here?”

“Yes. He was here.”

“I’d rather he didn’t come by, Papa.”

“I know. But Sam is a good man, and we had a nice talk.”

“You talked? About what?”

Her father tilted his head, his eyes soft and gentle on her.

“You spoke about me?”

“He did not want to hurt you,hija. He didn’t tell me much, but he did say that over and over.”

The bottom line was that she couldn’t make him love her. In her deepest darkest moments of despair, she thought Sam to be a manipulator, giving her his affection solely to achieve his objective. Keep the woman happy and she’d go along with everything he wanted.

It was odd, that they both had the same goal in mind. To save the farm.

And while she was in her dark mood, images came to mind, of her brother risking his life to save Sam. They both might’ve been killed. The thought sobered her. Made her grateful they were both alive. All this time, Joe had been minimizing the risk of being overseas. He made it seem as if they weren’t in any real danger. And now to find out there was danger scared her silly for her brother. She wished he would come home, or at least be stationed stateside.

Sam had the good sense to come home. Her feelings for him were complex and it exhausted her trying to figure them out.

“In my heart of hearts, I know that, Papa. I know Sam didn’t intentionally try to hurt me, but he did, and I can’t forget that.”

“Maybe not, Autumn, but the good Lord teaches us to forgive. If you don’t, it will eat away at you.”

“I just need time, Papa.” She walked over to him and kissed his forehead. “But, Papa, I have an idea I want to run by you. It may solve all of our problems.”

Papa patted the seat next to him. “Come, tell me. I’m anxious to hear what you have in mind.”

*

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