Some Day Somebody Read online

  Carrie walked into her bedroom and closed the door before crawling under the covers. She picked up the two-way radio, pressed the call button once like Sam showed her. Within seconds, she heard Sam’s voice coming through the transmitter.

  “Everything okay over there?…over.”

  She smiled, knowing he must have been waiting for her call. “Everything’s fine. My kids are with me, and that makes all the difference in the world. Over.”

  “I know it does, Babe, and I’m praying they make Kenton their home. It was a good day, wasn’t it? Over.”

  “It was,” she agreed, and waited. “Oh…I forgot…Over.”

  “Are they asleep? Over.”

  “Yeah, we worked them pretty hard today. Over.”

  “Yeah, Nick went right to bed too. I hurried up with my shower, and I’ve been waiting for your call. I swear you’ve got me walking around here like I’m a teenager again. Over.”

  Carrie smiled to herself. “Yeah, but I bet you weren’t the one waiting on phone calls back then. Guys never waited on calls.” She waited. “Oh…over, dammit!” She heard Sam lose it on the other end and had to laugh too. “This takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”

  “Over?” Sam added, with a distinct chuckle.

  “Yeah…bite me, Langley…over.”

  “It does at that…over,” he said, laughing even harder.

  “Hey, if you’re gonna make fun of my radio skills maybe I won’t invite you to come shopping with me tomorrow…over,” she added.

  “Love to. And I’d never make fun of the woman I love…over.”

  She paused, wondering if what she felt for this man was love. Possibly. Even if it was, she sure as hell wouldn’t proclaim it for the first time over a friggin walkie-talkie. She jumped as Sam’s voice cut in on her thoughts.

  “You there…over?”

  “I’m here. Just thinking how sweet you are…over.”

  “Thanks, Babe. Get some sleep okay? Over.”

  “I will. Come meet me for breakfast at eight? Over.”

  “I’ll be there. Goodnight, Baby…`cause I know how much you love it when I call you that.”

  She paused. “I do. I definitely do…and, uh, how do we end this? Over.”

  “Love you a lot…Over and out.”

  “Over and out.”

  Carrie placed the radio on her nightstand and stared at it until her vision blurred. She sniffed several times, trying to hold back what she couldn’t. She finally gave in and cried, letting the tears cleanse her of the emotional stress of the day. Letting it ease the tightness caused by fear and anxiousness of so many unknowns.

  Had she really expected her children to pull up roots and relocate to a place where they knew a handful of people? Yes, she had. Should she expect that after tonight? Gretchen had come out and said the word…stalker.

  “Oh God,” she groaned. “What the hell is going on, here?” Women like her didn’t have stalkers. Actresses, models, beautiful people had stalkers, not below-poverty-level divorcees with three kids.

  She cried some more, knowing this would be so much less complicated if it had been Dave, instead of some mysterious Marlboro smoking man with good handwriting. Dave, she could handle. “I never could count on the son of a bitch to come through when I needed him. Why should now be any different?” she sobbed to herself.

  Ten minutes later, she dried her tears, telling herself to quit being a big baby. She’d handle this. If she could put up with ‘Crazy Dave’ for nearly two decades, she could handle anything.

  Carrie picked up the radio, longing for the comfort of strong arms, a big barrel chest, and that oh-so-enticing smell he wore so well. “Sam,” she groaned, wishing she could hear just one word from that resonating base. She wanted so bad to feel even one touch from his gentle hands. “Sam,” Carrie repeated, in a whisper this time. She pressed the ‘push to talk’ button ever so softly. “I think I love you,” she whispered, and released it…while Sam slept soundly.

  ***

  It was two a.m. before he trusted the situation enough to go inside the house. He did it quietly, so quietly that no one noticed. One day soon she’d realize that no locks could keep him out. He tried to go home, but once he realized he wasn’t being followed, he’d talked himself into going back. Now was the time to watch and learn about her likes and dislikes by checking around the house and going through her personal things.

  He’d learned to move stealthily and with deadly precision when he was in the corp. He was trained for night patrols during the Gulf War. Compared to that, this was nothing…and everything. He watched Carrie sleeping, dreaming about who knew what. If only he could get her to dream about him. He got near enough to feel her breath on his skin, and fought the urge to touch her. Not tonight. “Soon Carrie,” he spoke barely above a whisper as he watched her in her sleep. “I’ll have you soon.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Carrie rose at six-thirty, made her morning preparations, and was ready to hit the local grocery store by seven o’clock. Her three teens still slept, but Carrie woke Grant gently to let him know she was headed to the store. She grabbed her purse and keys and quietly slipped out of the house, locking the door behind her. The offensive message had been scraped off of her car’s rear windshield. Sam? She didn’t doubt it for a minute.

  She was inside the toasty warm Market Basket three blocks away in two minutes. “I could get used to this,” she said, thinking of the fifteen minute drive to a grocery store from her old house. Her mouth watered from the smell of freshly brewed coffee. She followed her nose to the bakery section, knowing that’s where she’d find the complimentary coffee. After helping herself to a large cup, she took her first sip and closed her eyes in pure bliss.

  “Is it that good?”

  She opened her eyes, and stared up at her and Sam’s policeman neighbor. “Morning, Doug. I try not to talk to anyone before the first cup.” She glanced at his basket and grinned. “I always wondered if the cops and donuts thing was true.”

  “My turn to buy for the office,” he answered. “They’re good here, if you’re interested.”

  “I better not. I need to buy some real groceries and Sam’s coming for breakfast. Enjoy them, though, and thanks for helping last night.”

  He shrugged. “That’s what we do. See ya, neighbor.”

  Thirty minutes later, Carrie had the oven preheating as she unloaded several bags of groceries. The kids had brought her set of cookware and one pizza pan, so she was able to bake biscuits while frying up bacon and eggs.

  She removed the pan of scrambled eggs from the burner just as Sam knocked on the door.

  He walked in as she opened the door for him, and raised his nose to the air. “Mmmm…Biscuits and bacon, the breakfast of champions.” He leaned down to give her a kiss. “Good morning, pretty girl. Did you sleep well?”

  She returned his kiss eagerly. “I did, thanks, and breakfast is ready.” She handed him an empty plate. “Serve yourself. You want juice or milk?”

  She brought him a glass of milk and served her own plate. They stood at the snack bar to eat their breakfast and talked quietly about the day’s plans.

  “I got a phone call bright and early this morning from my Mom,” Sam told her. “She and Pop would like to meet you when you’re up to it. Want to go after breakfast for coffee?”

  “I guess we could,” she said, feeling a little nervous. Suddenly, she developed a new appreciation for Sam’s composure during his harrowing meet-the-family experience a day earlier.

  Sam lifted a finger in warning. “Remember, Pop may speak to you in a mixture of French and English.”

  “He’ll probably sound a lot like my Grandpa Hebert, my dad’s dad,” she said. “He used to mix both languages when he cussed.”

  “Go on, give me an example,” he goaded. “You know you want to.”

  She gave him a playful shove. “Fils de Putin, de la merde, de son of a bitch!’ That was like, his thing…his infamous string of cuss words.”<
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  Sam threw his head back and laughed. “Now that sounds like my old man. He loves to cuss in French.”

  “We lived next door to Papa, and there were eight of us, so one of us was always getting into something we weren’t supposed too.”

  “Even you?”

  “Oui, Sam. Moi aussi,” she said. “Even me. Usually jumping off bales of hay in the barn, or stealing one of his empty barrels to have races. Sometimes we’d have wars with berries from the big old China Ball tree in front of dad’s work shop.”

  “You played war with your grandpa?”

  “No, but if he got caught in the crossfire, he’d let it rip and we’d fly in all directions.”

  Sam helped Carrie clean up, and within a few minutes they walked into the home of Sam’s parents.

  “Hey Mom and Pop,” he said to the two older people who met them at the door. “I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet. Carrie Jeansonne, this is my mom, Lucia Langley.”

  Sam’s mother surprised Carrie by giving her a big hug. “It’s nice to meet you, Carrie. Come on in,” she said in a thick Cajun accent. “You’re taller than I thought you’d be. About the same height I used to be before I got old and shrunk,” she said, her green eyes sparkling with laughter.

  “Yes ma’am, I see where Sam gets his height. It’s wonderful to meet you,” Carrie told her.

  Sam’s father, a much shorter man than Sam, stood quietly to the side with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. Carrie smiled and held out her hand. “Comment ca va, Mr. Fred?”

  The old gentleman smiled broadly, obviously pleased by her effort. “Ca va bien…ca va bien!”

  “Bon!” she replied.

  “Tu parle francaise?” he asked.

  “Petit-peu parle francaise,” she answered, and held up her fingers to indicate a little bit.

  The old man laughed and pulled a chair out for Carrie. “Ca c’est bon. Sit tois.”

  “Carrie, would you like some coffee?” Sam’s mom asked her.

  Carrie turned to her. “Yes, please. Mais oui, sil vous plait.” Once she’d prepared her cup she took a sip and closed her eyes in appreciation. “It’s strong like my mama’s. Ca c’est du bon café’.”

  The four of them passed a pleasant half hour as Carrie practiced her limited, but appreciated vocabulary of Cajun French words and phrases. After her second cup, Carrie turned to Sam and reminded him of the busy day ahead of her. She thanked the older couple and promised to visit them again.

  After using Sam’s phone to set up her utilities accounts, she walked back to her own place. She entered and smiled at Grant eating breakfast at the snack bar. “We’ll have the phone by tomorrow morning.”

  Grant gave her a brief nod before licking his finger. “Good food, Mom.”

  “Thanks son. Hey, I have to go into Lake Coburn to do some shopping. Please don’t forget to bring Toto back with you tonight.”

  “I won’t,” Grant answered. “Anything else you want us to bring from the house?”

  Carrie shrugged. “Ask your dad and bring whatever he’s willing to part with. He needs it too, and there’s nothing there that’s worth fighting over.”

  “You said something about gas money?” he reminded her.

  She pulled two twenties from her wallet. “That’s a tank up with some left over. Lock up before you leave and drive carefully.” She gave him a hug and drove over to meet Sam.

  He met her at the door with good news. “I found you a windshield and they can replace it today if you leave your car with them. I can take you shopping, and my pickup will hold a lot more than your car. I’ve seen that list of yours.”

  Three hours later, Carrie pulled her car and its sparkling new windshield into her driveway. Sam parked his truck beside her to help her unload the groceries and household items she’d dropped a bundle on. By three that afternoon, all of Carrie’s purchases were unpacked and placed, giving the place a much homier feel.

  Carrie stretched on her toes to hang the last curtain rod in its bracket then stepped back to get a look at the large window, now completely covered by curtains. She nodded in satisfaction as Sam walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. “The place looks great. How about I take us all to supper to celebrate?”

  She leaned back and rested her head on his chest. “That would be nice. I’m too tired to cook. Is it okay if I call my kids from your phone?”

  “Sure,” he said as they walked back over to his place.

  Carrie dialed her old number, and stiffened when Dave answered. “Hello Dave,” she said.

  “Look, before you start raggin’ my ass, I was at the bar with Jay last night when all that stuff happened. I didn’t do it,” Dave insisted.

  “I know that.”

  “Good.”

  “But you could have put someone else up to it.”

  “I didn’t, and as a gesture of good will, I’m sending Grant over there with five hundred dollars to fix your windshield. I don’t know how much it’ll cost, but just keep anything that’s left over. I owe you, anyway,” he said, his voice heavy with remorse.

  “Yes, you do, but thanks anyway. Now if the kids are still there I need to speak to Grant, please.”

  When Grant got on the line, she told him about their plans for supper, and asked him to pick up dog food on the way home.

  Carrie hung up the phone and stretched to get the kinks out of her back. “I’m going back to my place to relax for awhile.” She turned to face Sam. “See you later?” she asked, as he nodded.

  Carrie walked the short distance home and unlocked her door. She stood just inside, awed by everything she’d accomplished with the help of her family and Sam. She could appreciate it now, in the daylight with no one watching from the shadows. Daylight made all the difference.

  She walked into her bedroom and stood in front of the mirror to gaze at her reflection. Was this her, with a new home, career, man, in a new town? With a whole new life? Carrie closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer. Please God, let this be the right choice for me. Somehow…let this work out. She pinned up her hair before she slipped into the tub to soak her tiredness away.

  Two hours later, she’d finished a leisurely bath and spent extra time on her make-up and hair. Wanting to look special, she pulled a figure flattering dress from the rarely-worn section of her closet. The extra effort turned out to be worth it. When Carrie opened the door to Sam, he pursed his lips in a silent whistle as one brow lifted, obviously pleased with what he saw. The man could make her feel pretty without uttering a syllable.

  He had to clear his throat twice before he finally managed to speak. “You look…really…great in that dress.” He paused, and shook his head, as though to focus his thoughts. “My pretty girl.”

  She blushed at his heartfelt compliment and murmured a polite “Thank you,” before stepping aside. “Are you coming in?” He brushed by her, disturbing the air with his masculine scent. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Davidoff…Cool Water, maybe? Once she’d closed the door, she turned to him. “Of course you already know that I don’t wake up looking like this. It takes some effort, and unfortunately, the older I get, the more effort it takes.”

  A growl deep in Sam’s chest resonated in the open space as he closed the gap between them. “But when you do this for me, damn it makes me feel good.”

  “Good Lord,” she breathed, lifting her arms to embrace his neck, letting him kiss her…a long, lingering kiss that left nothing to the imagination.

  Sam pulled away and spoke in a gravelly whisper. “Carrie…” She reached for him again and nibbled seductively on his earlobe. “Yes?”

  He groaned, as though struggling for control, when her lips moved from his earlobe to his neck. “Not that this isn’t nice, but…” his voice trailed off.

  She scraped her teeth gently along his neck, smiling to herself as he released another low groan. She lifted her mouth to his ear. “You started it,” she breathed, before catching his earlobe between he
r teeth, giving it a gentle tug. “Want me to stop?”

  Sam closed his eyes. “Hell no. You can do this all night if you want to.”

  She gave a low chuckle. “We’ll have to wait on that all night thing.”

  “Please don’t make me wait too long for that.”

  “Haven’t you heard that saying ‘the longer the waiting, the sweeter the kiss?’” she whispered into one ear. She kissed him gently on the mouth then moved to his other ear. “Or how about ‘good things come to those who wait?’”

  He shuddered at her gentle touch then pulled her close. “If you don’t stop, I won’t be able to wait for a damn thing.”

  “You’ll have to. The kids will be here soon.”

  “Not that soon, babe. You need to trust me on this,” he said, throwing his head back as she nipped at his neck.

  Carrie pulled slowly away from him and took his hand. She walked slowly over to the stereo system and pressed the play button. The soft sounds of Wilson Phillips singing “Hold On” came through the speakers. Carrie lifted her eyes to his. “Danse avec moi, Sam?”

  He held tightly to her as they swayed and moved to the song. Before the chorus began she gazed up at him. “Listen,” she whispered as the trio crooned how some day somebody would want to make her turn around and say goodbye to her old life.

  “You’re my ‘somebody’, Sam,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. His gaze pierced through her blur of tears, and she knew the moment he believed her. He pulled her closer, and held on as they swayed, as one, through the second chorus.

  Their fingers interlaced, their hearts connected, he kissed her throughout the third chorus. As the last notes drifted off into silence he pulled away and spoke in a raspy whisper. “I’m proud to be.”

  “You have changed my life, Sam. I can feel it,” she murmured against his mouth.