Leaving Oxford Read online

  “Los Angeles is a nightmare, especially without my advertising prodigy down the hall.”

  Cutting her eyes toward Bill, Carol stopped stirring the slice of lemon around her tea.

  Tension fell down around Sarah Beth’s chest like a steel gate. She set aside the biscuit. “What’s so nightmarish?”

  “Your favorite actor doesn’t like the movie promo. And you know his contract gives him control over pretty much everything.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, Sarah Beth leaned her head on one hand. “Maybe we could fly him down here? I could talk to him.”

  “You think Dylan Conner is going to fly to Mississippi? I know we love the place, but seriously?”

  Memories washed over her. Like a drowning woman, she gasped in a deep gulp of air. A groan escaped her throat as her eyes flickered open. “I can’t go to L.A.” She took a deep breath and forced a subject change. “Um... I’m finishing up the ski and coffee campaigns.”

  “Those aren’t in the same league, and you know it.” He shook his head. “I can ask Dylan Conner to come to Oxford, but he may laugh me out of a job.”

  Carol rested her hand on Bill’s shoulder. “I insist you stop talking about business. Let’s enjoy our lunch.”

  The waitress took their orders and refreshed their tea.

  “So, how have y’all been?” Sarah Beth leaned forward in her chair.

  Bill lowered his voice. “We’re still seeing a counselor. Before you ask, yes, we are meeting with that friend of yours and studying the Christianity thing.”

  “I’m excited about the ‘Christianity thing.’ You know I love you both.”

  Carol flashed a grateful smile. “We have such fond memories of the business trip to Paris with you. That was a turning point for us. What about you? Are you working on your—issues?”

  Sarah Beth massaged the knots pinching the back of her neck. “I’m sort of at an impasse with my doctors. They want me to take anti-anxiety medicines, but I don’t want to.”

  “People take medicine.” Carol waved off the excuse. “There’s nothing shameful about it.”

  Then why did she feel like such a failure? “It just seems like if I had more faith, then I would be cured. I feel so stupid and crazy. I should be able to get better without medicine.”

  “If you had diabetes or high blood pressure, would you take medicine?”

  “I’ve heard that argument, Carol, but this issue is in my mind.”

  “Your brain is an organ operated by chemicals and electric impulses and a bunch of other stuff I don’t understand, but I do know those chemicals can get out of whack sometimes, and medicine can help. Think about it.” Carol patted Sarah Beth’s arm. “Better yet, pray about it.”

  “Okay, you got me. I’ve been praying for a cure but...”

  Removing his glasses, Bill focused his attention on Sarah Beth. “Maybe you haven’t been listening to the answer.”

  “You’re right.” Sarah Beth propped her chin on her hands. “And I can give Dylan a call. I’ll ask him about coming here.”

  “I’ll take you up on that offer. He likes you more than he likes me.” One of Bill’s brows lifted. “Quite a bit more as I recall.”

  “Don’t worry. I got this.” At least, a year ago she would’ve, anyway. Now, she only talked a good game.

  ~~~

  On the brief drive back to her office, the view of her town and campus relaxed the knots that had formed in Sarah Beth’s neck muscles. She passed through the legendary tailgating lawn, The Grove. College students studied under the shade of sprawling oaks and magnolias.

  Memories of fall football seasons summoned a smile. Days when luxurious red and blue canopies with flower arrangements and meals served on fine china, even candelabra and chandeliers, crowded every open spot of turf. Fraternity pledges wearing suits and ties along with Southern debutantes in dresses visited the tents set up by parents and friends for socializing, home-cooking, and sweet tea.

  Oxford had been a balm for her wounds before, when she was a teen. Her safety net. Warmth and pain mingled and coexisted in her mind here, but the feelings of safety and home and comfort prevailed.

  Her grandmother had walked these sidewalks with her. Mark had taught her to drive on these narrow streets.

  And then there was Adam.

  He’d held her hand under one of the massive oaks. They’d giggled and staggered down fraternity row during the spring parties, talked about their future on the steps of the Union before graduation.

  There was no escaping the memories of Adam here. In fact, there was no escaping the memories anywhere. But in Oxford she could function.

  ~~~

  Jess charged up the wooden staircase in Ventress Hall. He paused halfway to the top beside the wall of stained glass and ran his fingers through his hair. What was he doing here? It had been three days. Maybe he should’ve called instead. At least ten times, he’d picked up her card and his phone but set them both aside.

  “Hey, I’m Cassie.” The petite redhead behind the desk spotted him and waved him up. “You were here the other day. Are you looking for Sarah Beth?”

  Caught. “Yeah, but she isn’t expecting me.”

  “Go on in. It’ll be fine.”

  He climbed the last few stairs, then peeked in the office as he tapped on the open door. “Still good for skiing tomorrow?”

  Sarah Beth glanced up from her computer. “Oh, hi.”

  Those brown eyes. They’d been on his mind all week. “You want to try out that equipment with me and a couple of friends?”

  She stared at him and bit her bottom lip.

  Nice. He held back a sigh. She doesn’t remember or she’s changed her mind? “Tomorrow is Saturday. Not supposed to rain and I have a ski boat. You have skis you need to promote.” A cautious step brought him further onto the red and blue Persian rug, and he flashed his best grin. “Sounding familiar at all?”

  “Are you still putting the boat in at Hurricane Landing?”

  She did remember. “Yep. We can shove off about nine. We’ll head back when we’re bored, tired, or sunburned.”

  “Let me check my calendar.” She stared at the screen without speaking further, tapping her fingers against the wooden grain of the desk.

  He studied her silhouette, her straight brown hair falling down past her shoulders. What was going on in that beautiful head? And why did he care so much? “Schedule that full?”

  “Uh, no, actually, nothing till about seven tomorrow evening. Skiing sounds good. I guess.”

  “Don’t sound so excited.”

  “I’m sorry.” She closed her laptop and leaned back in her chair. “I’m distracted, and a bit of a workaholic.” Her eyes met his, igniting a spark in the vicinity of his chest.

  “All the more reason to get out and enjoy a day on the lake.” He held up his phone. “Text me your address. I’ll pick you up around nine.”

  Both of her hands flew up. “No.” She breathed deep then lowered her hands and voice. “I mean, I’ll meet you there.”

  A strangely intense reaction, but interesting. And challenging. “I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

  She stood, came alongside him, and placed soft fingers on the back of his elbow. “Don’t worry, I’ve been there many times.” Her hand pressed forward. “See you at the dock. I’ll call you if for some reason I can’t make it. Thanks for coming by.”

  Was that a nudge? Was she actually breaking her personal space bubble to shoo him out? Not that quick, she wasn’t. He stopped in the doorway and locked eyes with her. “See you tomorrow, Sarah Beth.”

  “Um, uh, goodbye, Jess.”

  Was she shy? Or just quirky and standoffish? Either way, really cute. He bounded back down the stairs two at a time, an old habit he’d never bothered to break. Across campus in his office, he kicked his feet up on the desk and began conquering a long list of phone calls he needed to make.

  Nick Russo poked his head in. “Hey, man. You rang earlier?”

  Whil
e ending the conversation on the line, Jess motioned for his best friend to enter.

  Nick stood and waited in the doorway, wearing his usual uniform, a blue university polo and khaki work pants. “Wish I had time to kick my feet up on a desk. I’ve been outside doing manly work in the Mississippi heat.”

  “You’re management now, out telling other people to do the manly work in the heat.”

  “Right. It’s a bed of roses.” A smirk twisted Nick’s lips.

  “Speaking of getting outside. You up for skiing tomorrow? No practice this weekend, and we’re supposed to have good weather.”

  “Hard to pass that up.” Nick bobbed his head. “I’ll double-check with my sitter. Is Sam coming as the third man?”

  “Yeah.” Jess let his feet fall and sat up in his chair. “I’ll call Sam just in case, but I invited another person, too.”

  “Would this other person have a name?” Arms crossed, Nick’s eyebrows arched as he leaned against the door frame.

  Jess lifted one shoulder. “Sarah Beth LeClair.”

  “You’re bringing a date?”

  “No. I don’t know. Maybe.” The leather upholstery of Jess’s chair creaked as he shifted his weight. “She has some cool ski equipment she needs to try out.”

  “Oh, she has cool equipment. Of course, it’s all making sense now.” One side of Nick’s mouth cocked up. “What is she? Super model? Sports anchor? Actress in town?”

  Maybe bringing Sarah Beth out with the guys wasn’t the best idea. But she might’ve said no to any other invitations. “Professor.”

  “Hmm...tell me more about this professor. Sounds different from your usual outings with women.”

  True. And the woman was unusual, too. Why did his best friend have to know him so well? “Aren’t you supposed to be outside pretending to work?”

  “Yeah. I’ll leave so you can finish your nap.” He turned to leave, then paused and looked back. “Any word from New Orleans?”

  A good kick in the gut would’ve felt better than the answer to that question. “That’s a no go for the fall. But I’ve got a couple of other options in the works.” No way was he giving up on coaching professional football yet.

  Chapter 3

  Bag crammed to overflowing, Sarah Beth prepared to meet Coach McCoy. Memories of sunny summer days spent at the lake pulled at the corners of her mouth—bare feet, church camp, her baptism, and family picnics with a juicy ripe watermelon for dessert. Sardis Lake—like holy ground—held a special place in her heart.

  Water had always called to her and her brother, Mark. Like a second home, both in Oxford and back in the coastal town of Pass Christian, Mississippi, with Mom and Dad. Her mom used to joke that neither of her kids could pass a puddle or pond without getting wet.

  Sitting in her dining room at her antique mahogany dining table with her bowl of organic cereal, Sarah Beth imagined herself gliding across the lake. She missed the water, but since the accident...

  No negative thoughts. She needed to be able to do normal things like normal people. She pushed back her chair and stood.

  Her footsteps echoed on the polished pine through her empty house as she grabbed her bag and a cup of coffee and headed out. The screen door screeched and banged shut behind her.

  Situated on the leather seat of her SUV, she stared at the keys in her perspiring hand. A flood of ice water seemed to flow through her veins. Her throat tightened.

  Stop. Knuckles white, she gripped the wheel. “I can get to Hurricane Landing. I went with Mark when he was here. Lord, please help me do this.”

  Keys in the ignition, she rubbed her palms together and then started the car. Breathe in. She sucked in a deep breath. Breathe out. She let it go, backed out of the driveway, and drove toward the outskirts of Oxford. Stunning sunlight burst through the windshield. All she had to do was watch the road in front. Press the pedal and steer. And don’t think.

  Was her whole body going to shake the entire way? At least she’d made it to the edge of town without turning back.

  The tag on the truck in front of her read Lafayette County. Pronounced like the name of the French explorer in other parts of the country, locals pronounced it “La Fay′ et” with a distinct long A, just another of the many Southern charms she loved about the area. Her chest loosened as she observed the familiar farmland and alternating pine forests on the road to the boat dock.

  She hated being late and had left early in case of an unforeseen tractor blocking traffic, which should be the only problem along these country roads. Other than the incessant urge to turn around and break a speed record back to the house.

  Almost there.

  Sardis Lake came into view—ninety-eight thousand acres of planned flood control. The deluge of 1927 prompted the passage of the Flood Control Act which had been passed with the goal of protecting the precious Delta farmland. The tree-lined shores set against blue sky and water radiated beauty and serenity, and Sarah Beth breathed the sunshine into her soul. A deep impression of love filled her, as though the sun became a kiss from the One who made it. Maybe going to the lake today was the right decision.

  The parking lot. Finally. She pushed the gear to park and rested her head on the steering wheel. Inhale.

  Once her heart slowed to normal, she searched the area for Coach McCoy. No sign of him, so she dug through her oversize bag. Better to keep occupied. Sunscreen, floating key ring, floating sunglass holder, ski vest, and plenty of water. Oh, first aid kit and Bible. She plucked out the Bible. Underneath it, she hit gold. A forgotten bag of sour gummy worms. Mmm. She popped one in her mouth.

  The Bible was marked where she’d been studying the book of John, so she opened and read through the passage again.

  Reading the Bible had once been drudgery, but after she returned to the Lord while in California, the Word became alive, like a refreshing pool on a hot day. Messages stood out that had never occurred to her during a lifetime of church attendance.

  A rap on her window made her jump, a squeal escaping her throat. Brown eyes blazed from under the bill of a baseball cap. It was him. His blond hair peeked out from the bottom of the hat, his five o’clock shadow a little scruffier.

  Her face tingled. What was that about? She pressed the button to roll down her window. “Coach McCoy, you scared me to death.”

  “I heard you scream through the glass.”

  “I don’t think I screamed.” Maybe. A little shriek.

  “It’s Jess.” A smile played on his lips.

  “Jess.”

  “And you jumped so high I thought you might hit your head on the roof.” He raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “It’s okay. When I read, I lose all track of time and space.”

  “Looks like you’re reading a good book, or rather the Good Book. Hope you’re not planning to preach to me.”

  “Could be. Or maybe I’m afraid of your boating skills.”

  He rested his tanned arm on the window and fixed his gaze on her. “Don’t worry about my skills.”

  Face burning. Again. Oh my stars. “I’m rolling up the window now.” Sarah Beth hit the power button.

  “Watch out. I need my arm to demonstrate all my skills.” He struck a pose with his biceps curled like muscle-man. His goofy face made her smile.

  Not going to admit that was funny. She opened the door and hopped out with her bag.

  A sports car and an older black truck zipped into the lot. “Here come my amigos.”

  A tall blond man who looked to be in his late twenties exited the sporty Mazda. “What’s up? Cooler’s full and I’m ready to hit it.”

  “Hey, Sam. Hoping it’s not too cold.”

  The truck parked by the sports car. A dark-haired man lingered on the phone before getting out.

  Jess waved him over. “Hey, Nick, come on. I want to introduce y’all to my guest.”

  Sarah Beth joined the guys and offered her hand to the blond. “Hi, I’m Sarah Beth.”

  A scowl ran
across the man’s face. “Sam.”

  What was his deal? The other one extended his hand. His hazel eyes radiated kindness as he smiled. He stood shorter than the other two, but solid. “I’m Nick Russo. Good to meet you, Sarah Beth. That’s a fine Southern double name you got there.”

  She returned a smile. “My parents couldn’t agree on Sarah or Elizabeth, so I got both.”

  Sam turned to Jess. “You brought a date our first time out this spring?”

  Her mouth went dry as she shook her head. “It’s not a date.”

  Jess and Nick exchanged glances.

  Jess pointed toward her SUV. “Sarah Beth and I are colleagues, and she brought the goods.” He moved to open the hatch. “Help load everything on board.” He shot Sam a hard look. “And stop complaining.”

  Sam grumbled under his breath. “I hope she can ski. I’m not teaching anyone today.”

  Fire flickered in Sarah Beth’s belly. We’ll see who schools whom.

  The polite one, Nick, unloaded the equipment. “Nice wakeboard, Sarah Beth.”

  Sam picked up the slalom. “This might be worth a try. Let’s go.” He turned to Sarah Beth. “You don’t need that ski vest, you know. We have one.”

  “I like my bright pink vest, and it may protect me from drunken boaters when I’m in the water.”

  While Jess got in his truck to back the trailer toward the ramp, Sarah Beth and the other guys stood on the dock ready to help keep what looked to be an old twenty-foot Nautique ski boat lined up or catch a rope.

  Sam cut his eyes at her. “Missy, you should stand back. You might get hurt.”

  “I’ll take my chances. I could even be useful.” She forced a smile and glanced at the back of the vessel. Uh-oh. That’s not gonna work. “Wait up a sec.” She waved at Jess to stop.

  Jess leaned out his open window. “Yes?”

  “Sorry to be a bother, but you don’t have the plug in.”

  Jess slapped the side of his truck. “You’re kidding. Sam, I thought you were doing that.”

  “Good eye.” Nick went down the ramp to put in the plug. “Wouldn’t have gotten far if the boat was sinking.”