“I’m still game for dinner.”
Another woman would have tried to find out why one little girl disturbed him. But not Sadie. She kept things light. He appreciated that she didn’t press him—more than she could imagine.
“Good thing,” he said, trying to match her playful tone and failing. “I made plans for tomorrow night.”
He heard someone call his name and knew it was time to clear the area. He couldn’t handle small talk. Not tonight.
Shoving his hands in his pockets, Logan turned and started walking away from the stage toward the roadblocks at the edge of Main Street. A number of people looked ready to approach him, but he picked up the pace and kept his head down. He’d done his part, letting them raffle him off, and look where it had landed him.
Sadie fell in beside him, linking her arm through his. “Where are we going?”
“Hadn’t given it much thought.”
“How about we circle back, sticking to the roads running parallel to Main Street? I’ll run in and grab a couple of beers and cotton candy.” Steering him with her arm, she led him down a side street. “The B and B in town has a balcony on the second story. What do you say we sneak in and watch the festival from up there?”
“Sure you don’t want to dance? Enjoy yourself?”
She shook her head. “When I was a kid, I loved watching the world move around me. I would go to the playground, find the highest perch and watch the kids play. I think it is part of the reason why New York City works for me. There are so many places to sit and observe people.”
Her plan—beer, junk food and a quiet place—sounded a helluva lot better than his. He’d thought he would walk until the festival started to wind down and then head back to his truck.
“I could go for a beer,” he said. “But let’s skip the inn. Too crowded with folks visiting for the festival. Town hall should be open and I know how to access the roof.”
It was like the bookstore all over again, the way they were embarking on a “mission” to escape the world. He watched her disappear into the festival crowd. Sadie. She bubbled with laughter and fun—when he needed it most.
10
SADIE PEERED OVER the brick wall on the top of Mount Pleasant’s town hall. The sun had dipped behind the Green Mountains in the distance, but street lamps illuminated the people milling about Main Street, checking out the vendors’ booths. The stage stood at the opposite end of the street from city hall. She could feel the bass, but not much else. Judging from what little sound drifted their way, she wasn’t missing much.
“Nice view,” she said. She’d come to the festival ready and willing to finish what they’d started last night before her sister had gone into labor. But now, she wasn’t so sure. It felt as if he’d back-stepped to before he’d told her about his late wife. He seemed untouchable again.
“Look,” Sadie said, pointing to the cotton candy booth. “There’s your ice cream date.”
Standing so close their arms touched, Sadie could feel the tension ripple through Logan’s body. He held his plastic beer cup to his lips, but didn’t drink. Something about the little girl bothered him. Sadie hadn’t pressed him earlier, not in the crowd. But up here, where no one could interrupt them, it seemed like as good a time as any to ask. “Why does she frighten you?”
Logan lowered his beer. “Charlotte doesn’t scare me.”
“You can pretend to be the big, bad soldier all you want, but I think you’re lying,” she said. “I saw your deer-in-the-headlights look when she walked up to you.”
She waited for a laugh, the beginning of a smile—nothing.
“At first I thought she might want to interview me for the school paper,” he finally admitted, lifting the plastic cup to his lips again.
“Are you serious? You were afraid that little girl was a reporter?” she said.
“At first. But she’s not.”
Sadie set down her empty beer cup and crossed her arms over her chest. “Reporters and school children. These sound like irrational fears for a soldier who rode a horse against the Taliban, don’t you think?”
Logan stared into his beer. “That mission. The one we completed on horseback. I screwed that one up. Big-time.”
Pain and anger lined his face. Whatever had happened over there, he was holding tight to the blame. Maybe he deserved it and maybe he didn’t. Either way, Sadie knew from experience that walking through life saddled with self-doubt wasn’t easy.
“What happened?” she asked.
Time slipped by. She heard the crowd watching the band cheer as the musicians finished a song. A child screamed, begging for another cookie. And a cow mooed.
“You can’t repeat this to anyone,” Logan said.