ending.
Over the past seven months, Savannah had learned there were endings, but they weren’t always happy ones.
“He has broad shoulders, too.” Libby fanned herself with the order pad.
Some girls noticed a man’s smile or the color of his eyes. Libby judged a man by the width of his shoulders. Savannah doubted she could find a pair strong enough to carry her burdens. Guys avoided women with baggage and she had enough to fill up the cargo hold of a Boeing 747. The delicate flutter below her rib cage reminded Savannah there was someone else to consider. Someone she needed to be strong for.
That’s why she wasn’t even tempted to look at the guy at table number four.
“I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“You can run but you can’t hide,” her coworker teased.
“Watch me.” Savannah made a beeline for the swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the dining area.
Come to think of it, the canned goods in the pantry could use a little organizing, too....
“Order up.” Bruce, the diner’s owner and self-appointed cook, pointed to a platter piled high with ribs, mashed potatoes drenched in butter and a generous helping of coleslaw.
It was Libby’s order, but over the top of the doors, Savannah could see she’d been waylaid by a group of tourists wearing matching T-shirts with the words I Brake For Rodeos emblazoned on the front.
“I’ll take it.” Savannah grabbed the plate and caught Libby’s eye as she rounded the counter. “Where does this one go?”
The impish light that danced in the younger girl’s eyes answered Savannah’s question even before she could say the words—
“Table four.”
With a sigh, Savannah counted the scuffed tiles as she made her way to the back of the diner.
Part of her knew that Libby must have misunderstood the guy’s interest. The past few months had taken their toll. She felt—and probably looked—as wrung out as the mop hanging in the utility closet.
Savannah summoned a polite smile as she approached the table.
Okay, so maybe Libby hadn’t been exaggerating. The guy’s close-cropped hair was the pale gold of winter wheat, a perfect setting for a pair of deep-set, cobalt-blue eyes. A gray T-shirt stretched across the broad shoulders Libby had gone on and on about....
Savannah’s gaze locked on the familiar insignia and her mouth went dry.
A soldier.
He rose to his feet as she reached the table. “I’m Sergeant Carter Wallace, ma’am....”
Savannah felt a tingling numbness spread down her arms to her fingertips. The plate wobbled. As a river of barbecue sauce carried the ribs toward the edge, it was gently plucked from her hands and deposited on the table.
The soldier’s gaze dropped to the apron tied around her waist, lingering there until Savannah felt the color rise in her cheeks.
What was his problem? Hadn’t he seen a pregnant woman before?
“Your waitress will be back in a few minutes to see if you need anything else.” Savannah whirled toward the kitchen.
“Savannah? Wait.”
How did he know her name?
She slowly turned around, reluctant to face him again.
A muscle worked in the sergeant’s jaw. “I know—knew—your husband. Rob.”
Bitterness and sorrow clashed, splashing over the walls of Savannah’s grief. She swallowed hard against the lump that rose in her throat and managed a smile.
“I’m glad one of us did.”
Chapter Two
Carter watched Savannah disappear through the swinging doors that separated the kitchen from the dining area.
In his mind, this had played out differently.
Savannah had been happy to see him. Touched by the message that Rob had entrusted him to deliver. Instead, she’d looked at him as if he’d lobbed a grenade in her direction.
Maybe you did.
It occurred to Carter that he shouldn’t have chosen a public place to introduce himself, but Rob had never given him their home address, only mentioned the name of the tiny diner in Dallas where Savannah worked.
Carter dropped into the chair again and pressed his fingers against his temples, an attempt to ward off the headache that had sunk its talons behind his eyes. When he’d stepped off the plane, he’d naively assumed that time would slowly begin to sand down the jagged edges of his memories and life would return to normal.
Normal, he remembered his nanny, Rachel, saying with a laugh, is just a setting on the dryer.
Carter finally understood what she’d meant. Because so far, nothing had gone the way he’d planned.
He’d spent a sleepless night at Gray’s condo, fighting jet lag and the realization that everything he’d believed about his family had been based on a lie.
Breakfast with Maddie and Gray the next morning had been awkward; no one seemed to know how to fill the silence. Carter had politely declined their invitation to church. His brother took off shortly after breakfast to pick up Elise and Cory. After the service, Maddie planned to return to Grasslands so she could check on Belle Colby at the convalescent center.
Carter had welcomed the time alone to regroup. He’d decided to help Gray search for their father, the only person who could tell them the truth about the past. But first, he’d been honor bound to deliver a message.
If the woman the message was intended for decided to cooperate.
“How are those ribs tastin’?” Libby, the waitress who’d been so attentive when Carter had walked into the diner, bounded up to his table.
“Great.” Once Carter tried them, he’d know for sure.
“Okaay.” She glanced down at his plate and frowned. “Anything else I can getcha?”
How about an explanation for Savannah’s parting words?
I’m glad one of us did.
The statement hadn’t made sense. She was Rob’s wife. Of course she knew him. Savannah’s reaction—and her abrupt departure—didn’t quite match up with the woman Rob had described. A woman with a sweet smile, a sense of humor and a strong faith.
Carter understood how grief could do a number on someone, but wouldn’t she want to talk to someone who’d spent time with Rob?
Been with him at the end?
His gaze shifted
