Deep in the Heart by Sharon Sala

brown eyes fixed on Samantha intently, seeming to beg for a bite of the food he smelled inside the house.
    She pursed her lips and whistled softly, then called out the dog’s name. Rebel seemed pleased at being noticed. Samantha grinned.
    “He has your eyes,” she said.
    John Thomas laughed. “You win,” he said, as he toasted her wit with his half-empty coffee cup, and pulled the door shut behind him, leaving her to get dressed in private.
    “Well,” Samantha drawled, staring pointedly at the big hound who remained at the window. “I don’t suppose you have any more manners than your master.”
    But Rebel didn’t move other than to lick his chops, then swallow as he let his tongue shift to the other side of his open, panting mouth.
    “I didn’t think so,” she said, and laughed softly to herself as she crawled out of bed.

    “Are you ready for this?” John Thomas asked, as they entered the outskirts of Cotton.
    He knew that this homecoming, forced though it may be, would be emotional for Samantha. The last time she’d been here life had been simple. She’d been a young girl with a family intact.
    “I think so,” she said, and watched with interest as he turned the corner of Fourth and Downey. The spurt of excitement she felt was echoed in her voice. “Oh, Johnny, it’s still here!”
    The joy on her face made him smile. “I know, Sam. You didn’t think I’d bring you back to your old street just to give you a big letdown, did you?”
    She shook her head and then refocused her gaze on the wide veranda of the small house and the trellis on the east end that hung heavy with wisteria and honeysuckle.
    Besides, he had no intention of telling her how often he still drove past the old house and remembered the girl-child who’d lived inside so many years ago. He also had no intention of telling her how devastated he’d been when he came home for his father’s funeral and found it empty.
    Samantha shifted in the seat and pointed in excitement.
    “Even the flowers are still there.”
    “Or some just like them. Remember, it’s been a long time.”
    “It seems like it was only yesterday,” she said softly, then pointed. “I would try to slip out the back door to meet you without Mama knowing, but the hinges always squeaked.”
    “I’m really sorry about your parents. I know how close you were. You must miss them a lot.”
    She nodded slowly, remembering the gentle way of life and the long, slow days of summer. The days when she thought she’d be a child forever and that things would never change.
    Just then a small girl ran out of the old house, obviously hell-bent on escape from something or someone inside. Her head was thrown back, her wispy blond hair flying in the breeze as she ran, and a smile of delight was spread across her face.
    “Look!” Samantha cried and pointed. “A family with children lives in my house.”
    John Thomas grinned. “Yes, I know. And you’ll never guess who.”
    She looked at him expectantly.
    “Remember Hank Carver?”
    “The one who made me cry? How could I forget him? He was the first, and the last, dragon anyone ever slayed for me. That’s not something a girl ever forgets, Johnny. Not even if she’s only twelve years old.”
    John Thomas wished with all his heart that he could slay the dragons that threatened her now as easily as he’d decked Hank Carver. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, unwilling for her to know what he was thinking.
    I wish I understood how you forgot our love so easily. How could you lie down beneath me and love me so sweet, then leave me without a word?
    But there was no answer for a question that couldn’t be asked. And John Thomas had no intention of asking. He’d learned long ago that asking questions often got you answers you wouldn’t like.
    “Johnny?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Exactly why did you punch Hank Carver in the nose?”
    His hands froze on the steering wheel as his memory somersaulted back in time to the day when