“You know what I said to myself when I woke up this morning?”
“I do not.”
“I said, ‘Dress to please Sir Isaac Newton today, Ben.’”
She smiled. “Mission accomplished.”
As usual, Ben settled into the student chair nearest her desk. A soft pop sounded as he opened his package of baby carrots.
She took a swallow of the chilled sparkling water, savoring it. The first sip was always the best. “The day of the farmers market you introduced me to your friend Sebastian.”
Ben chewed, nodded.
“He’s a doctor in Atlanta, right?” Leah asked.
“Yes. He lives there during the week but stays at his house here in Misty River most weekends.”
“Do you think he’d be willing to speak to me? I have a few medical questions I’d like to ask.”
Lines of concern indented his forehead. “Are you sick?”
“No. My questions have to do with old records.”
“I’d be happy to relay your questions to Sebastian and get back to you with his answers.”
“I appreciate the offer, but the records I’m after are a bit on the . . . personal side. I don’t mind giving him a call.” Leah opened the New Contact screen on her phone and passed it to Ben.
Because he was a doctor, Sebastian would know how to go about obtaining records. Additionally, doctors were good at keeping information confidential. Lastly, he’d be predisposed to help her because she’d helped him when he’d crashed his car.
Ben frowned slightly as he typed in Sebastian’s details.
It had been unsettling in the extreme to watch Sebastian’s car lunge off the road last fall. Terrified of what she might find, she’d parked and hurried down the embankment. The front of his SUV had crumpled, wisps of steam rising from it. Since the driver’s side door was wedged against small trees, she’d jerked open the passenger door. She’d discovered a good-looking, dark-haired man slumped against his seat belt, unconcious. She’d climbed onto the seat and tried to wake him. At first there’d been no response. She’d been hugely relieved when he’d woken.
He hadn’t been scared, just in pain and disoriented.
The lucid, virile Sebastian of the farmers market had been very different from the Sebastian of the car crash.
He was taller than she would have guessed. At least six foot two, with a forthright, masculine, chiseled face. His hair was inkier than she’d recalled—almost black. The day of his accident, he’d been dazed. The day of the market, his gray eyes had regarded her with extraordinary intensity. He’d spoken with assurance. There’d been no weakness in him at all.
Ben gave her phone back.
“Did you know Sebastian before the five of you were trapped by the earthquake?” she asked.
“No. He was a foster kid, and the church offered him a place on the mission trip, all expenses paid. He didn’t want to go, but his foster parents insisted. That was the first time Sebastian had done anything with our youth group. He hated being there, and he was determined to hate all of us, too.”
Leah had been young when the world’s interest had converged on the five American children who’d been trapped underground by an earthquake while in El Salvador. So when a fellow teacher informed her that Ben was one of the Miracle Five shortly after her arrival in Misty River, she’d done what she always did after pinpointing a gap in her knowledge: she’d studied up. The next time she’d seen Ben, she’d been prepared to talk intelligently on the subject of the earthquake and their subsequent miraculous rescue.
Over time, she’d learned that the entire town harbored a great deal of respect for their five most famous sons and daughters. Ben, Sebastian, Natasha, Genevieve, and Luke had been in middle school when they’d been buried alive for eight days beneath rubble. It didn’t matter to Misty River residents that the event had occurred nineteen years ago. They still regarded the kids, now adults, with a healthy dose of awe.
“So your first impression of Sebastian wasn’t a positive one,” she said.
“Not at all. He was blunt and argumentative. Mean.” Fondness softened his expression. “But he grew on me.”
“And you grew on him.”
“It took time. After we came home, he said no the first ten or twenty times I asked him to do stuff with my family and me. But then my mom got involved. . . . You’ve met my mom.”
“Yes.”
“So you know that it’s impossible to say no to her. Sebastian had met his match. She forced him to hang out with us. He started spending more and more time at our house, taking trips with us, coming to church with us.”
“The way you talk, I was under the impression that your family had practically adopted him.”
“Practically, yes. Technically, no. My parents didn’t formally adopt him, but we did pull him into our circle.”
“The famous Coleman charm softened fearsome Sebastian Grant.”
Ben’s good-natured grin caused his brown eyes to sparkle. “It overcomes everyone’s defenses in time.”
“Given that, how is it possible that you’ve made it to the age of thirty-two without marrying anyone, sir?”
His brows rose. “This topic again?”
“You know how I am when things don’t make sense to me! And your unmarried state makes no sense to me.”
“You’re unmarried.”
“I’m unmarriageable—”
“No you’re not.”
“But I am. You, however, are astonishingly marriageable.”
He chuckled. “You’re almost as bad as my mom.”
“As stated, your charm can overcome anyone’s defenses. Which means that the reason for your singleness must stem from womankind’s inability to overcome your defenses.”
He spread his hands. “That is not the reason. I’m open to a relationship!”
“Then allow me to set you up with Hallie.” Leah could name several women who’d love to date him.
“No.” He took his baby carrots and hightailed it toward the door.
“Malia?”
“No.” He darted out of sight.
“Coward!” she called after him.
Later that night, Sebastian paused the voice mail he’d begun playing while walking toward the hospital parking lot after work.
He propped a shoulder against the hallway wall, restarted the voicemail, and listened carefully.
“Sebastian, this is Leah Montgomery. We spoke briefly at Misty River High School’s farmers market. Thank you for the bouquet, by the way. I’ve enjoyed it.” A brief hesitation.
Her voice was like moonlight. Clear, tranquil.
“Ben gave me your number,” she continued. “I have a few questions about medical records, and I’m hoping you might be able to offer some insight. Feel free to give me a call back at your convenience. Sincere thanks.”
Hospital staffers drifted past.
He replayed the message again. Then again.
Finally, he continued toward his car. Ben had given Leah his number? Ben hadn’t told him he had.
Once inside his Mercedes C Class, he started the engine but made no move to put the car in gear. He collected his thoughts, then dialed Leah’s number.