Prelude: Prequel to The Lewis Legacy Series Read online

  “Speech! Speech!” Folks all around her chanted, prompting Sarah to clap and join in with their enthusiasm. If it had been a few years earlier, she would have jammed two fingers in her mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Tempting, but not exactly appropriate, from a twenty-one year old. She laughed under her breath when a man across the street did that very thing. Guys could get away with so many things considered inappropriate for proper young ladies.

  After a few moments, the crowd finally settled down. Removing his hat, Sam tucked it beneath his arm and stepped up to the festively decorated podium.

  Once again, the man managed to steal her breath. Without saying a word.

  Chapter 2

  ~~♥~~

  Everyone quieted down quickly. Sarah waited, as they all did, to hear what their hometown hero would say. What kind of character-building, life-changing events had Sam experienced in the last few years? She’d heard how serving in the military could make or break a man.

  Thank you, Lord, for bringing him safely home.

  “My fellow citizens of Rockbridge, thank you for your warm welcome.” My, my. Sam’s voice was deeper, his native Texas drawl rich and authoritative.

  “It was my great honor and privilege to serve my country. I stand before you today, a man incredibly blessed by the Lord’s gracious watch care over me.” When Sam’s glance encompassed those assembled, his eyes appeared bright with emotion. “My friends, we live in a great nation, a blessed nation, an incomparable nation in many respects. Every morning, the first thing I did—after first downing some mighty strong coffee and breakfast”—he paused for the quiet laughter to subside—“was read my Bible and pray, not knowing where the course of each day would lead. Sometimes God’s word was all we had to keep us going, but it was more than sufficient. Just as it always is.”

  He waited as many clapped and called out greetings or affirmations. “I served in the Air Force during a relatively calm period in our nation’s history. However, recent events foreshadow escalating conflicts which should not be ignored. After the failed Bay of Pigs invasion last year, and the subsequent embargo ordered by President Kennedy on all imports from Cuba, new tensions are rumbling, especially in the Soviet Union. And what began as a military aid program by the U.S. to subdue communist rebels in French Indochina could conceivably develop into a full-scale war between North and South Vietnam.”

  Sam’s words, combined with his tone of voice, held such conviction. Sarah moved one hand over her heart as she listened, impressed by his obvious depth of emotion and dedication to his country and community. What a strong, confident man he’d become.

  “While I do not want to alarm you, we cannot deny—and must always be aware—of what’s happening in the world, and always be in prayer. If our soldiers are once again called to serve in active combat, I’d ask that you keep Psalm 121:7 in mind: ‘The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul.’ Evil undeniably exists, but we can never allow anyone or anything—no entity, whether foreign or domestic—to steal our joy in knowing that God is alive and continually at work in the world around us. No matter what may come, the Lord will be with those to whom He has called into service. Just as He always is.”

  Sam’s voice sounded strained with that last statement. He bowed his head for a few moments before once again addressing the hushed group. “It thrills my soul to return home, but I would be remiss if I do not pay tribute to my comrades who have fallen in military conflicts. May they never be forgotten, and I ask that you especially keep in your prayers the families of those who gave their lives in service to our country. Those are the true heroes, the ones who willingly sacrificed their lives for the freedoms and liberties we often take for granted. But we can take heart in this verse: ‘After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you. To Him be dominion forever and ever. Amen.’”

  He waited until the enthusiastic applause died down, and Sarah heard a number of Amens! echoed from the crowd. Stepping forward, Joseph Lewis tossed Sam’s signature black Stetson to his son, most likely the same one he’d worn around town throughout his teenage years. Laughing, Sam caught it and settled it squarely on his head. Wearing the familiar hat, he looked more like the neighbor boy that Sarah remembered. He smiled and waved again as the townspeople cheered.

  “Thank you again for your warm welcome. I look forward to renewing my acquaintance with all of you. God bless America, God bless Texas, and God bless Rockbridge!”

  “Meaningful and to the point,” Harold Marcum said to the man standing beside him. “Sam will be a welcome addition to our Town Council.”

  “Can you believe he said all that without a cue card in sight?” Tess nodded approvingly.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Sarah said. When he’d given the speech for his high graduating class, Sam had been articulate and well-spoken, and it seemed time had only improved those skills.

  Mayor Richards stepped up to the podium and, after shaking hands with Captain Lewis, addressed those assembled. “‘While the storm clouds gather far across the sea, let us swear allegiance to a land that’s free, let us all be grateful for a land so fair, as we raise our voices in a solemn prayer.’”

  On cue, the band started up again and everyone sang “God Bless America.” Sam faced the flag and raised his hand in a salute before he joined in the singing. Still close to the microphone, his clear tenor rose above the others. Thank goodness the man could sing. Even if he couldn’t, the townspeople wouldn’t care. Her heart full, Sarah glanced around as young and old voices all rose together in song.

  As the crowd started to disperse, the band launched into what she recognized as the Air Force song. While the band played, several of the men rushed forward to slap Sam on the back and shake his hand. Several children bounded up the bank’s steps behind them.

  Her family had prayed for Sam every night during their family devotions. Camped out in his favorite chair, Dad listened to the news on their small black and white television, and then he’d give them a running commentary on any news from South Vietnam. Air Force personnel had been in place there, headquartered in Saigon, since 1950. Not that any of them knew where Sam was stationed, but the mention of the Air Force always made Dad sit up straighter and pay close attention.

  “I feel it in my gut that our boys are going to war again,” he’d announce several times a week. “I’m afraid these conflicts are going to blow up in our faces soon enough, and off they’ll march.”

  Sarah prayed the conflicts wouldn’t result in a war, but after reading her Bible, she couldn’t deny the truth. Before Christ’s return, there would be wars, a mass uprising of nation against nation, man against man. As much as she wished otherwise, she couldn’t ignore the prophecies of famines, pestilence, earthquakes, and other catastrophes.

  Mom usually turned a deaf ear to Dad’s predictions. “I don’t want to hear such things, Bill. Thinking about a war that may or may not happen, and knowing some of those poor soldiers won’t come home alive or in one piece, is simply heartbreaking.”

  “If and when war happens, we need to focus on those who will come home,” Sarah had insisted. “They’ll need our prayers as much as anyone.” She’d reiterated the same statement when her father was wheeled into a Houston operating room for open heart surgery six months ago. Her mother had fallen apart emotionally while Tess paced the cold, sanitized floor. “God isn’t done with Dad yet,” Sarah told them, hauling both women into the chapel to pray. “He certainly doesn’t need a bunch of weepy women falling apart around him.” If she wasn’t confident and optimistic, she’d get mired down in their gloom and doom, and that wouldn’t be good for any of them, much less her father.

  Snapping to attention, Sarah turned to Tess. “My break’s almost over, and I need to get back to Perry’s. I’m sure we’ll get busy after the celebration. Why don’t you come with me? I’ll treat you to a piec
e of pie.”

  “Not right now.” Tess sounded distracted. “Do you think I should give Sam my new private phone number?”

  Sarah stared at her, unable to hide her shock. Was Tess that desperate to find a man? “That’s a bold move, even for you. Why would you do such a thing?” She held up one hand. “Never mind.” Tess planned on marrying Sam. Enough said.

  Captain Lewis paused to speak with little Jeff Arnold, crouching down and ruffling the child’s curly blond hair. When Sam raised his arms and pretended to soar like a bird or a plane, Sarah smiled. He never talked down to kids and treated them as equals. In the past, he sometimes seemed like an overgrown kid himself, but now he seemed so much more like. . .a grownup.

  Tess tugged on her arm a few seconds later. “Sam’s coming across the street. Oh, my lands, he’s headed straight this way. Would you take a gander at those baby blues? I’d forgotten how pin-you-down beautiful they are. Like a deep ocean inviting me to take the plunge.”

  Her sister really needed to stop reading those Hollywood magazines. Tess jostled her arm as she rushed forward to embrace him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. Sarah tried not to frown at her sister’s shameless behavior. Considering Sam’s cheek sported a colorful collage of pinks and reds, Tess wasn’t the only one who’d kissed the man.

  “Sam, you’re looking mighty handsome. Welcome home!” Tess’s voice dripped with honey. “We sure have missed you around here. Prayed for you every day.”

  “Thanks, Tess. It’s great to see you again. I felt the prayers of everyone in Rockbridge. They meant a lot.”

  Sam pulled back and Tess dropped her arms, her own cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Sarah almost laughed when Tess fluttered her eyelashes and gave Sam a coquettish glance. She could have sworn she’d seen Tess perfecting that move in the full-length mirror earlier that morning.

  Clearing her throat, Sarah addressed Sam. “If you’d like to come down to Perry’s after the parade, Captain Lewis, Myrna made a special peach pie in honor of your homecoming. She said to offer you a big slice. On the house. I’ll toss in a cup of coffee, if you’d like.”

  Sam’s appraising glance skimmed over her—in a respectful way—taking in her pale pink uniform, the same style the waitresses at Perry’s Diner had worn for years. Something lit in his expression, almost as though he was seeing her for the first time. Didn’t he recognize her? She hadn’t changed that much. Had she?

  “Sounds great, Sarah. I’ll be there, thanks. Try not to actually toss the coffee at me, please. The uniform’s expensive to dry clean.” With a sparkle in his eyes, Sam stepped closer and tweaked her chin the same as he’d done before he’d left Rockbridge for college. She’d put on a brave front during the send-off celebration, but then she’d run all the way home and cried her heart out, muffling her sobs with her pillow, saddened that the most exciting boy in Rockbridge was leaving town. Suddenly, that night seemed more like yesterday.

  With his touch, Sarah’s pulse raced. His familiar, teasing smile emerged with a hint of those smile lines the girls used to drool over. “You didn’t miss me at all, did you, Tomboy?”

  “Not at all.” A fresh wave of emotion swept through Sarah all over again. She would not cry. Just because he’d called her Tomboy? Get hold of yourself, girl. Sam had called her that nickname too many times to count in years past. He’d been the only one to use it, at least in her presence. Sarah didn’t mind since she easily outdistanced all the other kids when they raced, and she could swing a bat with the best of the boys her own age. However, she’d long since outgrown the need to prove she could.

  Partially to cover her muddled emotions, she reached into the pocket of her uniform for another tissue and beckoned Sam closer. Wearing a bemused expression, he complied while Sarah ignored Tess’s stare. Angling his jaw away from her with a gentle touch, she attempted to remove the lipstick. Goodness, Sam’s skin was smooth with a golden tan. His cheekbones were thinner, more refined, the smile lines more deeply etched to lend a certain maturity to his features. The effects of serving in the military and the added few years only enhanced his natural good looks and classic features. No wonder Tess wanted to marry him.

  In spite of her best efforts, Sarah only succeeded in smearing the lipstick even more. Those blue eyes, as piercing as ever, held something—a sadness perhaps—she’d never glimpsed in their depths before. Based on his speech, Sam’s faith was as steadfast as ever. For that, Sarah was grateful since she’d heard so many military men returned home disillusioned and broken.

  Giving a slight shake of her head, Sarah pocketed the tissue. “I did the best I could, but you might want to give it your own final spit shine. After all, we can’t have the local hero walking around town looking like a clown. Might spoil the image.” She gave his arm a light pat, admiring his uniform and hoping she hadn’t sounded too flippant or disrespectful. “I suppose some men might consider multiple lip prints on their cheek a unique brand of honor all on its own.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Sam said. “Thanks for trying to keep my image respectable.”

  Tess spoke up, interrupting the moment. “Make that two slices of that scrumptious peach pie, little sister, and I’ll swing by Perry’s, too.” The batting of her eyelashes started again with increased fervor. “You don’t mind if I join you, do you, Sam?”

  “Not at all. The more the merrier.”

  Surely Tess wasn’t naïve enough to believe the returning veteran wouldn’t have a large group of admirers tagging along beside him who shared her same goal to spend quality time with the most famous person in Rockbridge. In the past year, Charlie Sorrel’s younger brother, Howard, won a bit part in a New York stage production. That made front page news. Then again, so did the birth of a calf with five legs on Henry Newsome’s ranch. Sam’s triumphant homecoming would definitely be the biggest story of the spring season. Most likely, it’d be the best story of the entire year.

  “I’ll see you both in a bit.” Sarah turned to go.

  “Sarah?”

  Her shoulders tensed as she slowly turned around to face Sam. “Yes?”

  Stepping closer, Sam’s gorgeous smile made her pulse race in a way it never had before. “Thanks for the poem. It was very special, and I want you to know it helped me get through some rough times.”

  Sarah’s mouth gaped before she quickly recovered and closed it, unable to speak. He knew? How was that even possible? The ladies of the church met to assemble care packages on the third Saturday morning of every month. In a rare moment of frivolousness, Sarah had once slicked on pink lipstick then pressed her lips on an index card containing a poem she’d written. She’d tucked it inside the box marked special for Sam. Only God knew what had possessed her to do such a thing. Maybe all of Tess’s love talk had finally seeped into her muddled brain. Or perhaps she wanted to remind Sam that someone was waiting for him back home, even if it was only the little girl from down the street that he’d teased and called Tomboy.

  Standing behind Sam, Tess stared at her. Although he’d lowered his voice, she’d apparently heard every word. Her sister would recover, pester her with questions later, and maybe even accuse her of trying to hog the limelight.

  Yes, the man was pretty much perfect. Except that Sam wanted to stay in Rockbridge. Settle in Rockbridge. Raise a brood of darling little Lewis offspring in Rockbridge. Not that those ideas were character flaws, but they were regrettable. Why Rockbridge? She’d never understand it.

  Well, fine. That’s exactly what made him ideal for Tess.

  Time to get to work.

  Chapter 3

  ~~♥~~

  Could that beautiful girl really be Sarah Jordan? The little pigtailed girl from down the street who always had a dog trailing behind her and a softball in her hand? He’d stolen a quick glance at the name embroidered on her pink Perry’s uniform. Sam didn’t know of any other Sarah in Rockbridge. A lot of things probably hadn’t changed in Rockbridge, but his neighbor sure had—in all the best w
ays, from what he could tell. What a knockout.

  As he watched her walk in the opposite direction, Sam tried not to stare. In that moment, he regretted not sharing more than a passing conversation with Sarah in recent years. Before that, between his studies at the Academy, short-term mission trips and working at the bank during holidays and summers, he hadn’t had much time for a social life other than a few dates here and there. Even so, the difference in their ages would have discouraged anything more than friendship.

  But now? The six-year difference in their ages never seemed so insignificant. He’d certainly never seen a girl look as good as Sarah did in her Perry’s Diner uniform. Gone were the chubby cheeks and stick-thin figure, replaced by lovely facial contours and womanly curves. Without a hint of makeup, Sarah’s skin was lovely, and her brown eyes were clear, radiating a sweet innocence. Such a refreshing change from some of the women he’d met in the past four years who’d more freely offer themselves than a genuine smile to a man in uniform.

  Her hair was a slightly deeper shade of blonde than he’d remembered, like spun honey, and she wore it gathered in a loose style at the back of her head. Wispy tendrils curled along the sides of her slightly flushed face in the warm temperatures. Soft. Pretty.

  In a word, the grownup version of his neighbor was stunning.

  Compared to the other girls hanging onto his every word at the moment—not to mention clinging to his arms—Sarah was a burst of fresh air. Air he wanted to breathe into his lungs and fully absorb. Judging by her reaction, his guess that she’d penned the poem had been spot-on. He’d love nothing more than to discuss that poem further with her. Without a doubt, the words she’d written had come from her heart with the purest of intentions. He’d thrown down the gauntlet, but he’d back off until she brought it up. If she brought it up, and he sure hoped she would.