Chapter Twenty-Four

Cannon had watched the door since he opened the bar at six. His regulars trickled in, but he was looking for one person—Sage. She’d become an important part of his life over the last week. She’d given him a reason to smile.

Doc walked in and sat at the bar. He held up his finger for his first beer. “How are things in the heart department, son?”

Cannon pulled a lager and set it on a coaster. “I’m not talking about my love life with you.”

Doc lifted his beer to his lips and took a long, lazy drink. The foam stuck to his whiskers. “So you’ve got a love life now. That’s good to know. Don’t screw it up like the last time.”

Cannon knew he was referring to Mel. “That was different.”

Doc’s brow lifted. Not a day went by that Cannon didn’t want to reach into his drawer for the scissors and trim off the winged brows that shot skyward from the old man’s forehead.

“She’s a girl. You like her. What makes it different?”

“Mel was nice enough, but Sage is special.” When he was with her, every emotion was intensified.

“Special, huh? I once had a special girl.”

Cannon leaned against the counter, waiting for him to go on. He knew how this worked. He would be getting some advice. The doc wouldn’t come out and say what he wanted to say. He’d wrap it in a story.

“I met her for the first time on my family’s farm. She was stealing my prize hog.” Doc chuckled. He closed his eyes and smiled, obviously reliving the memory in his mind.

“She stole your pig?” Cannon knew the girl he was talking about was Phyllis, Doc’s wife of over forty years.

“No, son, she stole my heart. I gave her the pig. Her family was hungry.” He pulled the bowl of bar mix forward and picked out the spicy peanuts he loved. “I knew then I’d do anything for that girl. I butchered that animal and took it to her house.”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing, I didn’t see her that day. I met up with her ornery-as-snot father and told him I wanted to court his daughter.”

“And?” Cannon took Doc’s half-empty beer and filled it up.

“He took my gift and told me he’d think about it.” Doc still wore his wedding ring, even though Phyllis had passed several years ago. “I went to her house every Friday with offerings that ranged from freshly baked bread to a butchered chicken. My family wasn’t rich, but we ate, and we had extra. Six weeks later, I showed up and her father, Hank, was waiting on the porch. His shotgun leaned against the door, and Phyllis stood by his side. She was the prettiest thing I ever saw, and she was dressed in her Sunday best.” He sipped his beer. “It was a blue and white polka-dotted dress that reached past her knees. She had on white bobby socks and shiny black shoes.”

Cannon leaned in toward the old man. He was completely enthralled by the story. “And . . . ?”

“It was the start of forever. Her father let me walk her to the end of the driveway and back. That was our first date. He sat on the porch with his shotgun and watched.”

“No kiss?”

“No, we didn’t move along as fast as you youngsters do nowadays. In a way, I think it’s better to wait. You get to know a person’s heart before their body. One can satisfy you for life, the other for minutes. Anyway, by our fourth walk down the driveway, her father had moved into the house. I knew he was watching, and my only move to touch her was to wipe the dust off her shiny shoes when we returned. Two months later, he didn’t bother to chaperone. A month after that, she was able to take a drive with me. Two months later, I walked her down the aisle of a little church in Gold Gulch.”

“Was that the first time you kissed her?”

“Hell no, I kissed her nonstop from the minute we got out of shotgun range. That’s my point. You know they are special when all you get is a kiss, and it’s enough for now. Are Sage’s kisses enough?”

Cannon smiled. “For now.”

The door opened, and like Doc said, Cannon’s forever started. It was a daily thing for him. His days began with her smile and ended with her kiss.

Dressed in pink, she was as pretty as he could remember. She climbed up onto the end stool, the one he thought of as hers. He poured her favorite beer and went to greet her with a kiss.

The doc threw a five on the table and stood.

“You want to play for that beer?” Cannon asked.

The old man shook his head. “You got better things to do with your time, son. I’ll be next door with my shotgun.” He laughed all the way out the door.

“What was that about?” Sage looked at him with a confused expression.

“I think he likes you, and he’s warning me to treat you right.”

When Sage smiled, the whole room warmed. “I think he wants to keep me around for free labor.”

“You work for free?” He knew this town worked differently than most. If not for the people, he’d have given up long ago. It was Bea who really kept him glued together. She never gave up, and she didn’t allow him to either.

“Not really, I work for peanut butter cups and Skittles.” She smiled over her mug of beer. “I’m cheap, but I’m not easy.”

Cannon went to the only other customer in the bar and settled his tab. When the man walked out, he closed and locked the door.

Sage looked up at the clock that hung over the bar. “You closing early?”

He approached her and spun the bar stool around so she faced him. He stood between her legs with just a piece of pink material keeping them apart. “I realized today that I’ve been an awful boyfriend.” He watched her face for any hint of discomfort at his chosen word. He didn’t see anything but affection. He was an exclusive kind of man. He didn’t want to share what he considered his. After a week of kisses, he wasn’t about to share Sage with anyone. “I’ve never actually asked you on a date.”

Her fingers trailed the buttons of his shirt until they sat at the waist of his pants. “You want to be my boyfriend and date?”

Cannon couldn’t remember a time where he’d blushed, but he felt the heat rise to his cheeks. All he knew was he wanted Sage. Not in the same way as Mel. From Sage, he wanted more, and he’d wait for as long as it took to get it.

“Let’s just say I want more, and want to be more.” He leaned in and gave her a sweet kiss before he led her to the empty spot where people often danced. He put a coin in the jukebox and selected D-47, one of his mother’s favorite tunes by Etta James. As the oldie “At Last” played, Cannon pulled her into his arms. It was a bittersweet moment. He reflected on a past where his mother and father danced in the same spot to the same song. He looked to the future for the first time in a long time. He towered over the girl who was the size of a grade-schooler. His body was bigger in every way, but somehow her curves filled all his hollows. It was perfect. She was perfect. The moment was perfect—at last.