6. Evan
CHAPTER 6
Evan
T he drums from the high school marching band thrummed a patriotic heartbeat as I walked next to the fire engine in Minden's Fourth of July parade. It was only 10:30 in the morning, but the heat was already oppressive. I smiled at waving kids and passed out candy, but I found myself searching for Samantha in the crowd lining Main Street.
I shouldn’t be looking for her. She’d made it quite clear that what had happened in our past was just that—in the past. Which was perfect, because I wasn’t in the market for anything more. After the night in the hot tub, we crossed paths several times. A smile exchanged over late fees at the library, idle chatter about weather when we ran into each other at B I wouldn't let this setback quench the flame of determination kindling within me.
My steps carried me in her direction, and I passed out too much candy to the eager children swarming my legs, until my bucket was empty. “Sorry, kiddos. Here comes Jake.” I gestured to Jake Barrett, a half block behind me. “He’ll take care of you.”
I glanced toward the truck, then stepped over the curb, squeezing through sets of camp chairs folks had set up. My heart thrummed louder than the drums as I came up next to Sam.
“Happy Fourth of July,” I said, wishing I had a smoother greeting.
"Hey, Evan,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes darted around the crowd. She seemed nervous. Was it just my presence?
“Having fun?”
She shrugged. “Sure. It’s fun to see all the floats the businesses come up with.”
I was going to comment on the float from Brand New Landscaping that featured the whole crew of college guys dressed in hula skirts. They were obviously going for the “funniest float” award. I’d met Luke Brand when I first moved into town. He and his wife Charlotte led a Bible study for married couples.
But before I could say anything, a young girl darted up to us, drawing my attention from Sam to the miniature version standing a foot away.
"Can I go swimming at Ella’s house?”
I was pretty sure my eyebrows had just relocated to somewhere behind my hairline. My gaze flew back to Sam’s and found her entire focus on the teenage girl next to us.
“I’m not sure. Who else is going?”
“It’s just Ella and Sarah and me. Please??” The girl was persistent.
Samantha sighed. “Okay, sure. Just have Ella’s mom call me when I should pick you up. No later than five.” Her voice rose at the end, since the girl had already run off. She lifted a hand in acknowledgement of Samantha’s instructions.
I watched her retreat into the crowd, a flicker of familiarity igniting in my chest. Her expressive eyes, that easy smile—hadn't I seen them somewhere before? The feeling was disorienting, like a memory playing hide and seek just beyond the edge of recollection.
There was an unsettling familiarity in the way she had tossed her hair over her shoulder—a mirror image of a gesture I'd seen countless times before. My mouth went dry as the wheels turned in my head, churning through the murky waters of possibility.
Could she be her sister? No, Samantha never mentioned a sister. A cousin, perhaps? But no, that familial resemblance was too pronounced, too specific. It was like staring into the past, into a time capsule of memories I had tried so hard to bury beneath layers of ash and resolve.
Samantha turned back to me. “I should go,” she said. Her voice was clipped and breathy, slightly panicky. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” Without meeting my eyes, she turned and practically jogged down the block.
My tongue felt like lead in my mouth as I watched her leave. I couldn’t form a single word, let alone voice the questions that were bubbling up inside, hot and acidic like the volcano I’d seen once in Hawaii.
The blast of a trumpet behind me jolted me back into the moment. I looked around to find that the firetruck was already a block ahead, about to turn the corner. With one final glance at Samantha’s retreating figure, I turned the other way and jogged to meet up with my crew.
I felt strangely disassociated from the rest of the parade. Going through the motions, I continued to represent the Minden Rogers Fire Department. But my mind was a million miles away, stuck on the smiling, sassy face of a teenage girl.
Samantha had a daughter. She was young, but the resemblance to the younger version of Sam I remembered from Florida was undeniable. I was no expert at guessing the ages of young girls, but she looked to be no older than thirteen or fourteen. Maybe as young as eleven. Which either meant… No. There was no way Samantha could...
The parade had come to its exuberant finale, the final notes of the marching band dissolving into the applause and cheers of the town. Feeling a mixture of relief and restlessness, I peeled off from the procession with my fellow firefighters, our boots thudding in unison on the sun-warmed asphalt.
"Good turnout this year," remarked Chief Bergman, as he tugged off his helmet and wiped his brow with a handkerchief that had seen better days.
"Definitely," I agreed, trying to anchor myself in the present moment, but my thoughts kept drifting like rogue embers back to Samantha and the girl—Sophia.
"Hey, Evan, you seemed a bit distracted out there," Jake said with a teasing voice. "Someone catch your eye?"
"Sort of," I admitted, my voice steady, despite the way my gut was swirling. My gaze flicked across the dispersing crowd, still half-expecting to see Samantha reappear. "Actually, you guys know Samantha Brown?"
"Librarian Samantha?" Nathan asked, squinting under the brim of his cap. "Sure, she's been here since forever. My kids love story time."
If I remembered correctly, Nathan had three boys. Kudos to him–and his wife. My brother and I were already a handful for our parents. I couldn’t imagine adding another to the mix.
"Yeah, that's her," I said, feeling an odd mix of hesitation and desperation. How much information could I get without tipping my hand. "She has a daughter—Sophia, right?"
"Yep, she’s like… thirteen? Kid's got her mom's brains, I'll tell ya," Eli replied, chuckling. "Got herself into the accelerated program at school. Carla is her teacher and can’t say enough good things.”
Carla was Eli’s fiancée and a teacher at the middle school.
"Thirteen, huh?" My heart skipped a beat, the rhythm falling out of sync as if it sensed the impending revelation. "And no husband in the picture?"
"Never has been," Jake chimed in, his tone casual, unaware of the seismic shift occurring beneath my ribcage. "Just Samantha and her girl, as long as I've known 'em. Why? You looking to apply for the job?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.
"Bug off," I muttered, my mind churning like a storm surge threatening to breach its barriers. Thirteen. The number reverberated through me, each echo a hammer strike on the walls of my composure.
"Everything alright, Evan?" Chief’s question was tinged with genuine concern, but I could only manage a tight-lipped smile.
"Fine," I answered, though nothing felt fine. Everything was tilting, the horizon of my understanding warping as pieces began to fit together with a precision that terrified me.
As they continued to banter about the day's success, I stood there, rooted in place, the chill of realization creeping up my spine. If Sophia was thirteen, then the timeline...
My breath hitched. Could it be? The mere possibility sent shivers down my arms, raising the hair on the back of my neck despite the July heat.
"Hey, you’re coming for the barbecue at the station, right?" Nathan's voice cut through the fog of my thoughts.
"Uh, yeah," I managed to say, the word feeling like ash on my tongue. "Wouldn't miss it."
I scrubbed a hand over my face, the sweat mixing with the dust of the parade route on my skin. The laughter and chatter of my fellow firefighters filled the air as we walked toward the fire station for the barbecue. I should have been in the moment, celebrating the holiday with my crew, but my mind refused to let go of the tangle of possibilities that wrapped around my thoughts like thorny vines.
"Everything alright?" asked Eli, his brow creasing with concern. He was a jokester, but in the short time I had been in Minden, it seemed to me that Eli was the most perceptive firefighter in the station. He could always tell when something was off.
"Fine," I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "Just tired. You know how it is."
But it wasn't fatigue that gnawed at me—it was the haunting suspicion that the girl with Samantha’s eyes might be...could she really be mine? I pushed the thought down, trying to cage it like some wild animal that threatened to burst free at any moment.
The familiar smell of smoldering coals from the barbecue filled my nostrils as we arrived at the station, doing little to ease the tightness in my chest. I grabbed a plate, piling it high with food I didn’t have an appetite for, while plastering on a smile that felt more like a grimace.
"Hey, Mercer, you're looking a bit pale, man," Eli joked, elbowing me gently. "You'd think you just ran into a burning building instead of walking a parade route."
"Guess I'm just not as young as I used to be," I quipped back, deflecting with humor—a skill honed through years of navigating both emotional and physical infernos.
As the sun blazed higher, the conversation turned to families and kids, a topic that would normally entertain me, despite the lack of children in my family. But not today. Today, each word about parenting was a stinging reminder of my own potential link to a child I knew nothing about.
I had to talk to her. I deserved to know the truth.
But what if the truth was that Samantha had hidden a daughter from me for over a decade? The thought made me nauseous, the burger turning to ash in my mouth.
"Mercer, you in for horseshoes?" someone called out, pulling me from my reverie.
"Count me in," I replied, setting my barely touched plate aside. I couldn’t solve this tonight.
"You sure you know how to play?" Jake smirked. "Or do they just toss gold-plated horseshoes at country clubs in Chicago?"
"Yeah," Kyle added. "Pretty sure the only thing Mercer ever tossed growing up was caviar onto a cracker."
I snorted. "You guys are hilarious. Really. That’s just ridiculous. Obviously, we had a guy to toss the caviar for us."
A round of groans and exaggerated eye rolls followed. I was well-practiced in deflecting jokes about my privileged upbringing. It was a hundred times worse in Chicago where I’d worked before. I could handle Minden’s friendly ribbing.
"Figures," Kyle said. "Bet he had a personal horseshoe coach, too."
"Of course," I deadpanned. “Come on now. You tell yourself whatever it takes to stomach the devastating loss you’re about to experience.” With that parting shot, I let the horseshoe fly.
With a satisfying clank, it hit the post. For the next several hours, I lost myself in the camaraderie of my new station.
But if Samantha had been hiding Sophia from me? I made a silent vow to seek out the truth, no matter how much it burned.