before it gets dark," he promised. "Stay inside with the dog and keep the door locked."
She withdrew into the house. From behind the screen door, she watched him execute a swift U-turn, bypass the fallen limb, and roar down the driveway, kicking up dust.
Turning to regard the house's dark interior, Sara felt immediately that there were eyes on her—ghosts or people? she wondered, securing the inner door as Chase had advised.
Standing in line at the grocery store, Chase felt like he was fifteen years old again, buying food 'cause his mama was too sick to get out of bed.
He shifted uncomfortably, glancing to his left and right. So far, no one had recognized him. Broken Arrow had grown to almost unrecognizable proportions, but the landmarks were the same, like the old grain elevator, visible for miles. The two-story buildings on Main Street housed the same businesses, including Tim & Louie's barbershop, a family law firm, the same dentist's office. The city's growth was more to the south of the tracks, extending into what was once pastureland.
The breadth of his shoulders and his beard might buy him anonymity, but only for a while.
Lining up goods on the checkout belt, Chase asked himself if he'd bought enough food for three people, along with every scrubbing agent in the cleaning aisle. He figured he'd need all of it to combat years of neglect.
He hadn't brought Sara here to clean for him, though. A gently bred lady like her wasn't supposed to get on her hands and knees and scrub. But Linc's drinking had obviously gotten the better of him. The place was a pigsty. Cleaning it up in the leave time that was left to him would be a chore.
Which was why he'd accepted Sara's offer to help. Besides, who knew if Linc's old truck was even running. Could take him a while yet to fix her up.
"Chase McCaffrey, is that you?" exclaimed a woman pushing an empty cart into the store.
Heads turned. Chase winced. It'd taken less than an hour for him to be recognized. He sent a wry smile at Linda Mae Goodner, his mother's best friend and closest neighbor. Her blond curls had faded to silver; her blue eyes had receded in the soft folds of her face, but her welcoming smile was still as sincere.
Abandoning his groceries, he eased out of the aisle to greet her.
"Oh, Chase!" she cried, going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. She was the one soul in Oklahoma with whom he'd kept in touch, sending a yearly letter. "Just look at you, darlin'! How big you've grown!" she exclaimed, holding him at arm's length. "I was hoping you'd come back and claim your property," she added, her eyes sparkling happily.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, feeling fifteen again and unsure.
"How long are you stayin'?" she demanded, as friendly and curious as ever. "I don't suppose the Navy's ready to give you up yet."
"Not yet," he admitted. "I'll stay long enough to fix the place up. Plan on rentin' it out."
Linda Mae grimaced. "Well, at least ol' Linc had the good sense to leave it to you, though I was hopin' you'd come home to stay this time."
Never, Chase thought. "How's Mr. Goodner?"
"Same old cowpoke he always was. Why don't you come over for supper tonight? He'd love to see you."
Chase glanced back at the cash register. "I just bought food for tonight," he hedged. "But I'll be sure and stop by sometime."
"You'd better," she warned, giving his cheek a pat. "It's so good to see you again. Your mother would be so proud. Do visit soon," she added, letting him go. "We've lots of catching up to do."
Feeling curious eyes on him, Chase went back to pay for his purchases. His anonymity was gone. He'd bet the contents of his wallet that by tomorrow morning, everyone he'd ever known would have heard that he was back in Broken Arrow.
Mrs. Goodner was as informative as the local newspaper, which meant that Sara—Serenity—would need to keep a low profile for as long as she stuck around.
"Kendal!" Sara called her son's name louder, only to be answered by silence. "Kendal?"
She withdrew into the house. From behind the screen door, she watched him execute a swift U-turn, bypass the fallen limb, and roar down the driveway, kicking up dust.
Turning to regard the house's dark interior, Sara felt immediately that there were eyes on her—ghosts or people? she wondered, securing the inner door as Chase had advised.
Standing in line at the grocery store, Chase felt like he was fifteen years old again, buying food 'cause his mama was too sick to get out of bed.
He shifted uncomfortably, glancing to his left and right. So far, no one had recognized him. Broken Arrow had grown to almost unrecognizable proportions, but the landmarks were the same, like the old grain elevator, visible for miles. The two-story buildings on Main Street housed the same businesses, including Tim & Louie's barbershop, a family law firm, the same dentist's office. The city's growth was more to the south of the tracks, extending into what was once pastureland.
The breadth of his shoulders and his beard might buy him anonymity, but only for a while.
Lining up goods on the checkout belt, Chase asked himself if he'd bought enough food for three people, along with every scrubbing agent in the cleaning aisle. He figured he'd need all of it to combat years of neglect.
He hadn't brought Sara here to clean for him, though. A gently bred lady like her wasn't supposed to get on her hands and knees and scrub. But Linc's drinking had obviously gotten the better of him. The place was a pigsty. Cleaning it up in the leave time that was left to him would be a chore.
Which was why he'd accepted Sara's offer to help. Besides, who knew if Linc's old truck was even running. Could take him a while yet to fix her up.
"Chase McCaffrey, is that you?" exclaimed a woman pushing an empty cart into the store.
Heads turned. Chase winced. It'd taken less than an hour for him to be recognized. He sent a wry smile at Linda Mae Goodner, his mother's best friend and closest neighbor. Her blond curls had faded to silver; her blue eyes had receded in the soft folds of her face, but her welcoming smile was still as sincere.
Abandoning his groceries, he eased out of the aisle to greet her.
"Oh, Chase!" she cried, going up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. She was the one soul in Oklahoma with whom he'd kept in touch, sending a yearly letter. "Just look at you, darlin'! How big you've grown!" she exclaimed, holding him at arm's length. "I was hoping you'd come back and claim your property," she added, her eyes sparkling happily.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, feeling fifteen again and unsure.
"How long are you stayin'?" she demanded, as friendly and curious as ever. "I don't suppose the Navy's ready to give you up yet."
"Not yet," he admitted. "I'll stay long enough to fix the place up. Plan on rentin' it out."
Linda Mae grimaced. "Well, at least ol' Linc had the good sense to leave it to you, though I was hopin' you'd come home to stay this time."
Never, Chase thought. "How's Mr. Goodner?"
"Same old cowpoke he always was. Why don't you come over for supper tonight? He'd love to see you."
Chase glanced back at the cash register. "I just bought food for tonight," he hedged. "But I'll be sure and stop by sometime."
"You'd better," she warned, giving his cheek a pat. "It's so good to see you again. Your mother would be so proud. Do visit soon," she added, letting him go. "We've lots of catching up to do."
Feeling curious eyes on him, Chase went back to pay for his purchases. His anonymity was gone. He'd bet the contents of his wallet that by tomorrow morning, everyone he'd ever known would have heard that he was back in Broken Arrow.
Mrs. Goodner was as informative as the local newspaper, which meant that Sara—Serenity—would need to keep a low profile for as long as she stuck around.
"Kendal!" Sara called her son's name louder, only to be answered by silence. "Kendal?"
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