Mike’s first instinct was to rush to Savannah’s side. But he quickly decided he would be of more use defusing the situation. Besides, the way some folks were eyeing him, like he was Benedict Arnold, meant going anywhere near Savannah would only throw more fuel on the fire.
After grabbing a bottle of water that Sadie had stashed under the table, he went straight to the source of the commotion.
Gently, he touched Thelma’s arm. She swung to face him with bloodlust in her eyes. She couldn’t have been more than ten years older than him, but bitterness had aged her beyond her years.
“Here,” he said, uncapping the bottle and offering it to her. “Why don’t you sit down and have a few sips? It might help calm you.”
“Calm me? I’m not some silly hysterical woman looking for drama. Is that what you think?”
“Nope. Don’t recall saying so either.” He smiled and held out the water again. “I just thought you could use something to drink.”
Thelma hesitated, breathing hard, her face red and tear streaked. At least she’d stopped shouting. She accepted the bottle and as she sipped from it, he risked a look in Savannah’s direction, hoping she understood he wasn’t consorting with the enemy.
Her head was bowed and Sadie and Rachel were speaking quietly to her. Around the room, people were griping about one thing or another; how could Savannah have fooled them, why had she pretended to be a tourist, why hadn’t she identified herself right off. That she was a spy for Twin Creeks seemed to be a popular theory. A trio of gray-haired, grandmotherly types were texting so fast, it was a wonder their thumbs didn’t stiffen up. Probably trying to scoop each other. Under different circumstances, it would’ve given him a good laugh.
“You don’t understand what it’s like to be divorced and alone. It’s not easy,” Thelma muttered, searching through her purse.
“I do. And you’re right. It isn’t easy.”
She pulled out a tissue and blinked up at him. “Are you divorced?”
Mike nodded.
“How long?”
He stopped to think. “About eight years now.”
“I’ve seen you before,” she said, squinting at him.
“Probably at the market or hardware store. Our ranch is a ways from town.”
She looked down and dabbed at her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, clutching the water. “For being so kind. I can’t believe I made such a scene. They’ll be talking about this for weeks.”
“Nah, you know how folks are around here. They’ll find something juicier to gossip about by supper time.”
She glanced up with a tentative smile then caught sight of Savannah and scowled again.
“Don’t worry about Savannah,” Mike said. “She’ll be fine.”
Thelma stared at him as if he’d committed an act of high treason. “You think I care about her? This whole thing is her fault.” She glared at Savannah. “Strutting up there like a damn peacock. Announcing who she is like she’s proud of herself. Acting like her mamma wasn’t the biggest tramp—”
“That’s enough.” Mike didn’t raise his voice, but his stern tone got Thelma’s attention. “Savannah was fourteen years old when she was forced to pack up and leave the only home she’d ever known. She was just a kid. Do you have children, Thelma?” He paused, waiting for his words to sink in. But she wasn’t quick to let go of her anger. “Savannah was a victim, too.”
Thelma blinked, her eyes slowly filling with shame and regret. “I’m—I didn’t stop to think,” she murmured then cupped a hand over her mouth.
The room had grown quiet.
Sadly, it didn’t take long for the rumblings to resume.
Mike had raised his voice at the end, just enough to get everyone’s attention. “Tell me something...all of you people who are so quick to judge...are you all prepared to pay for the sins of your parents?” He looked at each of the more vocal agitators. “How about your children—you expect them to pay for yours?”
Despite the sheepish expressions, Mike fought to control his temper. If he heard just one more person mutter about the apple not falling far from that tree, he was going to lose it.
“Well, hell, Barnett, it ain’t no surprise you’d stick up for her,” someone in the back said. “She sent her fiancé packing so she could take up with you.”
Mike thought he recognized the voice and turned to look at Lawrence Peabody as a smattering of agreement rippled through the crowd. “Come on, folks,” Mike said. “That guy wasn’t her fiancé. You all can’t be that ignorant.”
The indignant gasps made him sigh.
“Please...” Savannah got to her feet. “Don’t—”
“Mike’s right, you bunch of sorry jackasses,” Sadie said, cutting her off and glaring pointedly at Lawrence, Jasper and Earl. “I can’t figure out if you’re being hardheaded or if you’re just plain stupid.”
“Sadie, Mike, please.” Savannah’s voice was shaky and her face was blotchy, but she tried to smile. “It’s okay.”
“No.” Mike shook his head. For her sake, he should probably shut up, but he couldn’t hold back. “It’s not okay. I defended this town, all of you people—at first I thought it was a bad idea for Savannah to tell you who she was. I advised her against it, but she needed closure and she’s had a lot to overcome. She didn’t have to take this job, and she certainly didn’t have to go to all this effort trying to help Blackfoot Falls.
“So, I changed my way of thinking. I swore you’d never blame her for what her mother did. I tried to convince her that you were kind, fair-minded folks. That you would help her put that painful part of her past behind her.
“I thought I knew you. You folks helped me and mine through some hard times. We’ve always helped each other when we were able. I love this community, and I’ve been so proud of what we stood for. But now, I’m deeply ashamed of it. She was a kid. And her world fell apart, and now it’s falling apart again for something she had no control over.”
Thelma, tissue in hand and her cheeks pink, stood up next to Mike. But she didn’t face the crowd. Instead, she looked right at Savannah. “I’m very sorry for what I said. I was wrong to blame you. And I was wrong to be so ugly, no matter what.”
Savannah’s red eyes looked as bad as Thelma’s. “No apology is necessary.”
The older woman shook her head. “It most definitely is.”
Earl, who’d sneaked closer to the door, coughed. “Apologize for the truth? That’s a bunch of bunk.”
Savannah seemed to shrink even more, which Mike hadn’t thought possible. All he wanted to do was hold her tight and take her far away. He knew that most of these folks had cried out in her defense—had never blamed her—but he doubted that was what Savannah would recall.
It didn’t help that Avery, Jasper and Lawrence all pushed off from against the wall, standing with hands on hips, like they’d been the ones assaulted. Idiots.
“Okay, that’s it,” Sadie said, leaving Rachel to stand by Savannah. “You jackasses need to leave right now. I mean it. As far as I’m concerned, there’s going to be some new rules about who’s welcome at town meetings.”
The room quieted, except for the old troublemakers stuttering their objections.
“We got rights,” Jasper said. “Just ’cause we tell the truth don’t mean—”
“Get out,” Sadie said, except this time it was a command that reverberated against the walls.
Several of the merchants stood, staring daggers at those still complaining. Then Kevin, the motel manager, turned to Savannah. “I, for one, think your business ideas have a great deal of merit, and I’m willing to help form a committee in whatever area you think we need it.”
“Hear! Hear!” said someone Mike couldn’t see.
“I’m volunteering, too,” Kylie said. “I’ll do everything I can to make this town all it can be.” Then she turned to Savannah with a gentle smile.
“Thank you,” Savannah said, her own smile quivering.
After the worst of the crowd had left, the place emptied out quietly. But most all of them seemed to need to take one final look at Savannah, which wasn’t helping.
Savannah sniffed and took a step away from the table.
Mike moved toward the back, making sure not to block anyone’s exit, ready to shut the door when they were all gone. He didn’t know what Savannah wanted to do. But he truly had lost a lot of faith in his community today, and he wasn’t going to count on a single thing.
He thought back to that day Savannah had told him he was one of her best memories of Blackfoot Falls. It was very easy to imagine the wound that had just been reopened and the scar she’d bear from it. And when all was said and done, he had no idea how he’d come out of this. Would she still think of him fondly, or would he end up lumped into the pain that had just been brought down on her?
* * *
SAVANNAH STUFFED EVERYTHING within reach into her briefcase. At the last minute, she remembered to leave out the revised report for Sadie. Her hands were still shaking, but thankfully Rachel had packed up her computer for her.
Mike had also offered to help, but Sadie convinced him to go get some fresh air and cool off. Apparently, she’d never seem him so angry.
It was Savannah’s fault. She’d told herself coming here was strictly about closure, but that wasn’t true. A big part of her had wanted to prove something to this town...say, hey, look at me, aren’t I awesome? What a joke. She looked like a fool. What she regretted most, though, was pitting Mike against his neighbors.
Trying to sound as professional as possible, she said, “Tell you what, Mayor, let’s give everyone some time to calm down, say about a week, then I’ll send Nina to finish the presentation. How does that sound?”
Sadie snorted a laugh.
“It’s only fair.” She owed it to them for her colossal lapse in judgment.
“You’re a better woman than me, Savannah.” Sadie patted her arm. “You’ve done more than enough. Going over to Twin Creeks and Greensville and all... I know this will be hard to believe, but most of these folks understand and appreciate what you’ve done. It’s always the loudmouthed idiots that ruin things for the rest of us.”
“It’s fine,” Savannah said, trying to hide a surge of relief. “I hope you can forgive me for dropping that bomb. I thought it would help if they knew I do understand life here.” She sighed. “Which I obviously don’t, given what happened.”
“You hush. There’s nothing to forgive.” Sadie sandwiched Savannah’s cold hand between her warm palms. “I remember you now, and you’ve got every right to be damn proud of yourself. Does my heart good to see how far you’ve come. And I’ll tell you something else,” she said, leaning closer. “I thoroughly enjoyed that lecture Mike gave those old coots.”
“Amen,” Rachel said.
The mayor frowned at her. “I was whispering for a reason.”
“Better learn to do it softer, then.”
Sadie chuckled. “Rachel lays into them every town meeting. They’ve come to expect it. But I’ve never seen Mike get so riled. He’s the most easygoing man I know. Normally, he tends to keep to himself. But I guarantee he’s made a lot of people think today, about more than just this.” She glanced toward the door. “Let’s hope it sticks. He’s waiting for you just outside. Poked his head in twice now.”
Savannah drew in a deep breath and nodded, not sure she was ready to face him. If only she’d listened to his warning. But, no. In the end, her ego had won. “Thanks,” she said, looking from Sadie to Rachel. “Both of you. For everything.”
Rachel came around the table and hugged her. “I still can’t believe I didn’t recognize you,” she said, leaning back then squeezing Savannah’s arms before releasing her. “I’m glad you have Mike. You’re in good hands.”
“He’s just—we’re not—” Savannah gave up. Why repeat herself? Why postpone the inevitable? She saw Mike peek in again, just as her phone rang.
Porter’s ringtone.
Savannah winced.
“Go ahead and answer, we’ll give you some privacy.” Sadie looped an arm through Rachel’s and steered her toward the door. “Take your time and don’t worry about locking up. I’ll see to it later. And call if you need anything.”
Savannah had no intention of answering the call now, but she smiled her gratitude, anxious for them to leave so she could be alone. Even for just a minute.