coloring unique and the sprinkle of freckles across her straight nose was pretty cute. She was smart, sassy and every guy’s little sister.
Today he didn’t have a date and wasn’t breaking up with anyone so his only excuse for stopping was to thank her again for her efforts and let her know the bouquet she’d arranged had been a big hit with his mother.
“Hi,” he said.
She glanced over her shoulder, then set down the long-stemmed flowers she’d been about to move for transport. “Hi, yourself. Got a hot date tonight?”
“No. Despite what you seem to think, my social life isn’t all that active.”
“I noticed you’ve been slacking since your mom came to visit.” She nodded knowingly. “You’re smarter than you look.”
“Do you talk this way to all your customers?”
“No, actually. Just you.”
“Should I feel special?” he asked, not in the least offended.
“If you’re not, I didn’t do it right.”
“So you admit to deliberately provoking me?”
“It’s the best part of my day.” The words were teasing, but her eyes didn’t have their customary impertinence. “Is there something you need?”
“No. I just wanted to let you know my mother loved the birthday arrangement.”
“Good.” She transferred the flowers to a small hand cart used for moving her inventory from her van to the lobby stand.
“I wanted to thank you. It was a last-minute order and meant keeping you late. The effort is much appreciated.”
“You’re welcome. If you could give me a Facebook like and say something about my exemplary customer service that would be great.”
It flashed through his mind to offer to buy her a drink or dinner as a thank-you but his internal warning system flagged and shut down that thought. He knew the difference between good and bad risk, and an invitation to dinner fell into the really bad column. As the newcomer to Blackwater Lake he was trying to fit in and, as Faith had pointed out more than once, his romantic record was abysmal. Dating and dropping the town sweetheart would not win him the hearts and minds of the locals.
“Are you in a hurry?” It seemed to him that she was distracted while she packed up to go. Now that he thought about it, he was leaving work earlier than usual and normally she was here as he walked out the door, so this was really early for her. “Do you have a date?”
“Oh, please...”
He noted the blush that slid into her cheeks. The color reminded him of a pink rose. He recalled the first time he’d bought one and her warning him away from pink or red because the shade symbolized a deepening of feeling. “It’s a reasonable question. You’re not bad-looking for a smartass.”
“Be still, my heart.” She rested her hands on the counter between them. “Careful, Sam. Words like that could turn a girl’s head.”
“That was nothing more than a simple statement of fact. Let me use the rose metaphor to explain.”
“Please do.” A brief flash of amusement crossed her face.
“Just like you, a rose is beautiful. And then you open your mouth and out come the thorns to jab a guy.”
“And yet you keep coming back. Maybe you’re a glutton for punishment.” Her inner smartass couldn’t be silenced for long. “Maybe I should leave the thorns on the first-date roses for you. No pain, no gain. It could work in your favor to get you a third date.”
“That twisted logic presupposes I want one.”
“That is an intriguing clue into the mystery of Sam Hart. You have no idea how it pains me not to pursue it.” She glanced past him to wicked, billowing smoke clearly visible from the tall glass lobby windows. “But you’re right. I’m in a hurry, and not because I have a date.”
“Then what’s so urgent? Is your daughter okay?”
“The fire isn’t far from my house. I need to go pack some things for Phoebe and me, just in case we have to evacuate. She’s fine,” Faith added.
“Good.” There was a splash of apprehension in her expression that touched him because it was so different from her usually brazen, audacious behavior. She was every guy’s sister and if Ellie’s house was in the fire’s path he would do anything to keep her safe. “Can I do something to help?”
“Thanks, Sam.” She smiled a little. “But I’ve got it covered.”
“What about your daughter?”
“She’s at summer camp. Cabot Dixon’s ranch. The wind is blowing the fire away from them. He and his wife will keep her until I can pick her up.”
“Okay. Then at least let me help you move the flowers back to your store in town. It will be faster,” he pointed out.
She wanted to say no. Even a spreadsheet nerd who crunched numbers for a living could see that. But she nodded and said, “Thanks.”
Together they got all the flowers on the flat hand cart, then locked up ribbons, tissue paper, cellophane and all the other supplies she kept here. She secured the credit card receipts and cash in her purse, then gave him a nod to head for the exit. Before they took a step, Blackwater Lake’s mayor walked into the lobby and straight over to Faith.
Mayor Loretta Goodson-McKnight was an attractive brunette somewhere in her late fifties, but it was asking for trouble to put even a ballpark number on a woman’s age. Today she looked a little older and that probably had something to do with the natural disaster she was dealing with. It was her job to coordinate resources and the emergency response. Judging by the expression on her face, whatever she had to say wasn’t good.
“Faith, I’ve got some bad news.” The mayor got straight to the point. “We just received word that there’s an evacuation order for everyone who lives near Crawford’s Crest.”
“That’s where my house is.”
“I know.” The woman’s voice softened and her expression was sympathetic. “I’m on my way to the staging area right now for an update from the fire captain and wanted to let you know myself.”
“And I appreciate it more than you know. I’ll just go to the house and grab a few things for us.”
The mayor shook her head. “They won’t let you through. The sheriff has blocked off the road. You can’t go home, honey.”
Faith blinked as the meaning of it all sank in and shock took over. “Oh my God. You mean I could really lose it—”
The woman started talking, telling her about everything being done—tankers dropping fire-retardant chemicals and water on the blaze. Firefighters were clearing the brush, trying to deprive the fire of fuel to burn and slow it down so they could surround it. But Sam saw the worry on her face and what she was leaving out. No one could control the wind that was fanning the flames, limiting the ability of ordinary men to save the structures in the fire’s path.
“All your neighbors are getting out. That’s a lot of people to find shelter for.”
Sam watched the color drain from Faith’s face and had the most absurd desire to pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be fine.
“Faith, honey, we’d rather keep evacuees in private homes as opposed to setting up temporary quarters in the high school gym. You know how people in this town pull together when there’s a crisis. My office has lined up volunteers and we’ve almost got everyone covered. You and Phoebe can stay at my house. It’s pretty full, but we have air mattresses and floor space in the living room.”
Apparently Sam’s male chromosomes, the ones that made him want to fix a problem rather