self-remorse threatened to overwhelm her when Sam’s smile evaporated, replaced by a pained expression.
Tess gasped. “Sarah! I can’t believe you said such a thing. That’s no way to welcome our new neighbor. You must forgive her, Sam. My sister’s only ten.”
“It’s okay.” Looking Sarah straight in the eye, in an equally matter-of-fact manner, Sam told them their station wagon had been struck from behind by a drunk driver in San Antonio the year before. His younger sister, Rachel, had been thrown from the car and killed instantly. “At least she didn’t linger and suffer. As weird as it might sound, that was God’s biggest blessing.”
“Well,” Sarah said, “at least you have the comfort of knowing she’s with Jesus, right?” He’d mentioned God, after all. What boy actually talked about the Almighty if he didn’t have faith? She could already tell Sam was different from the other boys in Rockbridge. In a good way.
“Right.” Sam nodded. “That was the Lord’s greatest blessing for my family.”
“Enough of this sad talk,” Tess said. “Can we please talk about something else?”
“I’m sorry.” Feeling awkward, Sarah turned to go. “I need to get back to Hershey now.” Thank goodness Sam hadn’t shed any tears when he’d told her about his dead sister. That would have been horrible, and would have made her feel worse than she already did. The story was tragic enough, but she’d never liked cry baby boys. Sam took his loss like a man, and that impressed her.
“Hershey, huh? You must be a chocolate lover.” Sam trailed behind them through the house and back into the front room. Thankfully, their new neighbor didn’t seem to hold her lack of tact against her.
Tess laughed. “Sarah’s a dog lover. Hershey’s the name of her newest pet because his coat’s smooth and rich as dark chocolate.”
“Great name. I love animals, too,” Sam said. “Maybe you’ll introduce us sometime.”
“Sure. He’s a Labrador Retriever, four months old. I walk him every night. You’re welcome to join us.” From the corner of her eye, Sarah caught Tess’s glare as she waved and headed out the front door. Walking away from Sam’s house, she heard her sister telling him about school and offering to help him get acquainted.
Of course, Sam was all Tess could talk about for days afterward. “Sam Lewis is the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” she’d gushed. “He looks like one of those Greek gods come to life.”
Sam had joined her on many nights as she’d walked Hershey. Sometimes he’d bring along the newest stray dog he’d temporarily adopted. They’d talk about school and sports mostly. Sometimes they’d discuss books, but he preferred crime and war dramas while she devoured the classics.
“I can’t believe you’ve read some of those books,” he’d told her once, “much less understand them. I thought only old people read them unless it’s required reading for school. Are you sure you’re not really thirty years old?” She’d given him a good punch in the arm for that remark. “Hey, it’s a compliment when you think about it,” he’d protested with his customary grin.
As long as Sarah had known him, Sam had been straightforward without exhibiting any self-consciousness when he talked about God, as if the Almighty was his close, personal friend. That boldness was the way it should be, but it was more than Sarah could say for most people. Other than some of the older female prayer warriors, deacons and elders in their church, she’d never known anyone else—male or female—who could talk about the Lord and make it sound natural instead of forced.
Hearing a shuffling noise and a grunt, Sarah snapped back to the present. She’d really zoned out, but at least it was quiet in the diner, giving her time to indulge in her memories. In the middle of stacking chairs upside down on the tabletops, she paused. Merle Smithers, son of the now-deceased legendary town
Tess gasped. “Sarah! I can’t believe you said such a thing. That’s no way to welcome our new neighbor. You must forgive her, Sam. My sister’s only ten.”
“It’s okay.” Looking Sarah straight in the eye, in an equally matter-of-fact manner, Sam told them their station wagon had been struck from behind by a drunk driver in San Antonio the year before. His younger sister, Rachel, had been thrown from the car and killed instantly. “At least she didn’t linger and suffer. As weird as it might sound, that was God’s biggest blessing.”
“Well,” Sarah said, “at least you have the comfort of knowing she’s with Jesus, right?” He’d mentioned God, after all. What boy actually talked about the Almighty if he didn’t have faith? She could already tell Sam was different from the other boys in Rockbridge. In a good way.
“Right.” Sam nodded. “That was the Lord’s greatest blessing for my family.”
“Enough of this sad talk,” Tess said. “Can we please talk about something else?”
“I’m sorry.” Feeling awkward, Sarah turned to go. “I need to get back to Hershey now.” Thank goodness Sam hadn’t shed any tears when he’d told her about his dead sister. That would have been horrible, and would have made her feel worse than she already did. The story was tragic enough, but she’d never liked cry baby boys. Sam took his loss like a man, and that impressed her.
“Hershey, huh? You must be a chocolate lover.” Sam trailed behind them through the house and back into the front room. Thankfully, their new neighbor didn’t seem to hold her lack of tact against her.
Tess laughed. “Sarah’s a dog lover. Hershey’s the name of her newest pet because his coat’s smooth and rich as dark chocolate.”
“Great name. I love animals, too,” Sam said. “Maybe you’ll introduce us sometime.”
“Sure. He’s a Labrador Retriever, four months old. I walk him every night. You’re welcome to join us.” From the corner of her eye, Sarah caught Tess’s glare as she waved and headed out the front door. Walking away from Sam’s house, she heard her sister telling him about school and offering to help him get acquainted.
Of course, Sam was all Tess could talk about for days afterward. “Sam Lewis is the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen,” she’d gushed. “He looks like one of those Greek gods come to life.”
Sam had joined her on many nights as she’d walked Hershey. Sometimes he’d bring along the newest stray dog he’d temporarily adopted. They’d talk about school and sports mostly. Sometimes they’d discuss books, but he preferred crime and war dramas while she devoured the classics.
“I can’t believe you’ve read some of those books,” he’d told her once, “much less understand them. I thought only old people read them unless it’s required reading for school. Are you sure you’re not really thirty years old?” She’d given him a good punch in the arm for that remark. “Hey, it’s a compliment when you think about it,” he’d protested with his customary grin.
As long as Sarah had known him, Sam had been straightforward without exhibiting any self-consciousness when he talked about God, as if the Almighty was his close, personal friend. That boldness was the way it should be, but it was more than Sarah could say for most people. Other than some of the older female prayer warriors, deacons and elders in their church, she’d never known anyone else—male or female—who could talk about the Lord and make it sound natural instead of forced.
Hearing a shuffling noise and a grunt, Sarah snapped back to the present. She’d really zoned out, but at least it was quiet in the diner, giving her time to indulge in her memories. In the middle of stacking chairs upside down on the tabletops, she paused. Merle Smithers, son of the now-deceased legendary town
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