kept telling him he couldn’t have known anything was wrong, and he had to quit blaming himself. So far, he hadn’t been able to manage that.
When he realized Amanda was watching him, he jerked himself back to the present. “Thanks.”
“I know how much he meant to you. It must have been really hard.”
Sympathy shone in her vivid blue eyes, coming through the phony makeup with an honesty that told him his childhood best friend was still in there somewhere.
Sure, he scoffed silently. The friend who had flown across the country the day after graduation and promptly forgotten all about him. No phone calls, no letters, no emails, nothing. It was as if she’d kicked the dust of Harland off her fancy shoes and never looked back.
Being a Sawyer boy, he’d appreciated girls for as long as he could remember. Tall, short, slender, curvy, blonde, brunette or redhead—it really didn’t matter to him. He enjoyed them all, and they returned the favor. John wasn’t in the market for anything serious, and he was always up-front about that.
Amanda Gardner had been different. His best friend, the one who always listened when he talked, even if he didn’t say things quite right. The one he confided in when his latest girlfriend baffled him. He and Amanda had been close for so long, he’d thought she’d always be in his life somehow.
Until the day she wasn’t.
He’d waited for her to contact him, give him an address to send letters to, something. Anything. As the years went by, he wondered about her less and less, until he finally decided she was gone for good. Of all the girls he’d known, it was the one he’d trusted most who had hurt him. Girlfriends came and went without causing all that much damage.
Losing his best friend had broken his heart. Since it looked as if she was actually moving back to Harland, he had to make sure that didn’t happen again.
* * *
When John fell silent, Amanda felt horrible for upsetting him. Ethan’s death seemed long ago to her, but obviously for John the pain was still very fresh. Expressing her condolences was appropriate, she reminded herself, the polite thing to do. She hadn’t meant to make him sad. Still, she felt awful about it.
Sensing that John was angry with her didn’t help at all. Not that she could blame him for that, since it was her fault they’d grown apart. She wondered if everyone in Harland would give her the same kind of cool reception he had. With a mental sigh, she resolved to be patient and do her best to restore the connections she’d allowed to lapse. It had been easy to let them go when she’d been so far away. Now that she was back, rebuilding those neglected relationships could mean the difference between success and failure.
Finally, in the shade of an oak tree, Amanda saw the hand-carved sign that had stood in the same spot since long before either of them was born.
Sawyer Farm.
Those two simple words brought back a flood of wonderful memories, and they turned onto a dirt lane shaded by a canopy of ancient white oaks. Weathered split-rail fences bordered the winding driveway that led to a rambling white farmhouse. With broad, welcoming porches, it was framed by gardens filled with every kind of flower that grew in this part of North Carolina. Just walking toward that house made Amanda feel that things might actually work out for her.
Eventually.
They went up the back porch steps, and John dropped her smoky bag on the bench near the door. “That’s seriously all your stuff?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Questions sparked in his eyes, but to his credit he didn’t voice any of them. “You used to take more than that to church camp.”
It had been ages since she’d even thought about church, so John’s mention of those simple, carefree times made her squirm. “I travel a little lighter now.”
Without responding, he opened the screen door and motioned her ahead of him. Despite his chilly attitude toward her, the gentlemanly gesture was a nice change from fending for herself. She’d been struggling for months to pull her life together in L.A., as one friend after another abandoned her. While John hadn’t exactly rolled out the red carpet, at least he hadn’t turned away when she needed his help.
“The living room looks a little different,” he warned in a hushed voice. “The doctor put Marianne on bed rest a couple weeks ago and she’ll be that way till she has the twins.”
“When are they due?”
“August tenth. Doctor says if she makes it to the end of July, he’ll be happy.”
John sounded nothing like the carefree farmboy Amanda remembered so fondly. The one who’d gallantly stepped up to be her date when her boyfriend broke up with her right before their senior prom. The one who’d paid the DJ to play a set of country ballads especially for her. Under the mirrored ball, with a corsage of tiny pink roses and baby’s breath strapped to her wrist, she’d spent a blissful evening in John’s arms. She’d been to the Academy Awards twice and countless Hollywood parties, but that dreamy high school dance was still the most perfect night of her life.
Looking at him now, she noticed some deep cracks among the laugh lines that bracketed his eyes. Worry, she realized. It didn’t look good on him, but it told her that the generous heart he’d always worn on his sleeve was still alive and well. That was something, anyway.
A cute redhead materialized in the doorway, giving John a flirtatious smile. She was eyeing him as if he was her favorite dessert, and Amanda wasn’t surprised when she batted her long eyelashes.
“Hey, handsome,” she cooed. “I was hoping to run into you.”
Clearly not put off by the very obvious display, he flashed her a grin that could weaken the knees of any female on the planet. “Hey yourself, Ginger. What are you doing here?”
“Interviewing for the nanny job. I think I’d be perfect for it, don’t you?”
Her honey-pie drawl made Amanda want to gag, but John didn’t seem to notice. After making a show of thinking it over, he nodded. “Could be.”
The woman might be perfect for something, Amanda mused, but domestic goddess wasn’t the first option that came to mind.
“Could you put in a good word for me?” Ginger asked. “This would be a great job for me, since I just love your niece and nephew.”
Her supposed affection for the kids was such a thinly veiled act, Amanda couldn’t help getting in on the fun. “Oh, that’s nice. What are their names again?”
Ginger blinked at her as if she’d just noticed someone else standing in the kitchen. “Keith and Emma.”
John’s barely suppressed grin told her the nanny hopeful had missed the mark. Satisfied that she’d correctly nailed Ginger’s intentions, Amanda called up a friendly smile. “I hope it goes well for you.”
“Thanks!”
After another adoring look at John, the clueless woman flounced down the steps and out to a sunny-yellow VW bug. It was the ideal car for John’s not-so-secret admirer, Amanda thought. It wasn’t like her to be so smug, but every once in a while she met someone so transparent, she just couldn’t help it.
Grinning, John shook a finger at her. “That wasn’t very nice.”
“What are the kids’ names?”
“Kyle and Emily. It still wasn’t very nice.”
Amanda recognized that he was trying to sound stern, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away.
“She’s an empty-headed moron obviously more interested in you than your sister’s children. I can’t imagine she’d have gotten the job even if I wasn’t here to point that out.” An idea popped up, and she sighed. “Is she your girlfriend?”
“Nope. Just a friend.”
“One