Page 67 of Sanctuary at MacLeod's Cove
‘He’s trying to eat everything on the buffet table,’ said Sam, pointing to where a group of boys were doing a good impression of never having seen food before. ‘He’s fine. But if you want to stay inside, I understand.’
‘No, outside would be nice. It’s hot in here, and noisy,’ she said, raising her voice to underscore her point. It was. But it wasn’t the reason she wanted to leave the hall with Sam. There were undercurrents between them that could no longer be ignored.
Chapter Nineteen
Jen followed Sam as he wove through the crowds and out of the hall, where people gathered, smoking and laughing on the otherwise quiet village street. She could hear the sea, and the rustle of the leaves high in the trees, which was a little noisier tonight as the wind picked up ahead of the advancing weather front.
He led her to a bench a little farther away where they could be alone. He sat down and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his legs, pressing his joined fists against his mouth, rubbing them as if trying to coax words from deep within.
‘What is it, Sam?’ she asked. ‘What’s troubling you?’
He twisted his head around and looked up at her. ‘You want to know? Really?’
Her mouth dried in sudden fear about what he might say. But she nodded. She needed to know.
‘It’s you, Jen.’
‘I’m troubling you?’ she said, indignation gathering with every word. The word had echoes of Alistair, treating her like an annoying irritation who he had to control. She looked away, out at the streetlight nestled in the dark leaf-packed branches opposite. She blinked. She was troubling him?
‘Well, I’m sorry for that,’ she snapped. ‘But I can surely fix it for you.’ She grabbed her bag and stood up.
‘Don’t go,’ he said. But then he made the mistake of reaching out and taking hold of her hand in his.
Suddenly her heart was beating fast with a sense of panic that her life was about to repeat itself, and she couldn’t bear it. She tried to shake his hand off.
Tears pressed against her eyes. She gulped some fresh night air to regain control. It didn’t work.
‘Stay,’ he said again. It felt like an order. And she could no longer take orders.
‘I can’t, Sam. I just can’t! Believe me, I really don’t want to know how troublesome I am! I think I’ve been told enough times about how difficult I am, how unattractive I am, how skinny I am, how hopelessly disorganised I am. So, you get it? I know all that already, and I don’t need to hear about it anymore.’
She stumbled at the kerb, and hurried away, back to the hall. What the hell was she thinking of, going out dancing with Sam Boyd?
‘Jen!’ She heard him run up behind her. She flinched. ‘Wait, Jen, please wait.’
She kept on walking.
‘Jen! I didn’t mean it like that. You know, deep down, I didn’t. This is me talking, not anyone else.’
She stopped outside the halo of light coming from the hall and closed her eyes. Sam was right. She was being too defensive. Too distrustful. It had to stop. Now.
‘Look, I know you want me to leave you alone,’ he continued quickly, ‘and I will, but before I do, I have to tell you something. Just one thing.’ He didn’t wait for her to speak. ‘And that is that you’re troubling me only because you’re stirring feelings inside of me which I haven’t felt for so long. I thought they were dead and long since buried. But it seems that, like a volcano, they’ve been dormant, not dead. And they’re erupting again.’
Jen couldn’t help herself and snorted, which turned into laughter at the thought of whatever was erupting inside of him. He joined in her laughter, his edged with relief.
‘You really have a way with words.’
His laughter stopped. ‘In that case, I’ll keep on talking because it’s good to see you laugh again. You used to laugh a lot.’
Her smile subsided. ‘That was then. Not now.’ She glanced around at the darkness, which hovered outside the reach of the streetlights, and shivered. She glanced back at Sam. ‘Too much has happened.’
He reached out and took her hand, and she let him. ‘I hate that you’ve been hurt. Every instinct in me wants to heal it.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not so sure that healing is the answer.’
‘Then what is?’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe forgetting?’
