by Lois Richer
“Mind? I’m very glad you did,” Sam told her as a little glow of warmth flamed at having this house returned to a home, though he knew perfectly well that didn’t only have to do with the pictures. A lot of that feeling of warmth came from Kelly’s presence here.
“I think it’s important for them to have familiar things in place.” Kelly smiled at him.
“Exactly.” As her smile added to that cozy feeling inside, Sam chided himself to step back. Kelly was a friend, a good one. But that was all. Losing Naomi had made him determined never to suffer that intense pain of loss again.
Not that Kelly seemed to want a relationship. He wondered why.
“I’m hungry.” Sadie leaned against Sam’s knee. “What’s for supper, Uncle Sam?”
“Ask Auntie Kel. She cooks way better than I do.” He grinned when Kelly lifted one eyebrow at him. “I’ll do cleanup.”
“Promises, promises.” Kelly made a grumpy face. “Like you promised the same last night then left to check on a cow? Or this morning when another cow emergency called you away and I had to clean up all that bacon grease?” She shook her head. “I only look gullible, Sam. You’re on supper detail.”
“She’s a tough one, Sadie Lady.” Sam handed the baby to Kelly then reached out for the little girl’s hand. “You and I better go check out the fridge and see what we can burn for supper.”
“But I don’t like burned supper,” Sadie mourned. She turned to Kelly. “Please will you help Uncle Sam make us supper? Burned food tastes bad.”
“Very bad,” Emma agreed in an almost whisper.
“Yeah,” Sam added with the most plaintive sigh. “Awful.”
“Oh, come on, Sam. You must cook for yourself,” Kelly sputtered, obviously indignant that he’d use the kids to con her.
“Canned soup, pork and beans, eat out.” Sam ticked them off on his fingers.
“I hate soup,” Sadie said, planting her feet firmly apart and glaring at Kelly.
“I don’t like beans,” Emma murmured, then her blue eyes brightened. “Can we go to Gran’s?”
“No. Gran’s not feeling well. Flu, I think.” Sam sighed then shrugged at Kelly. “Maybe she has something in the freezer.”
“Don’t bother your mother,” she said in exasperation. “I put out some ground turkey to thaw for tacos. You can cook it, Sadie can grate the cheese and Emma can cut up the tomatoes.”
“I don’t want to grate cheese,” Sadie whined. “It hurts my fingers.”
“T’matoes make me ’llergic,” Emma added.
“Okay, so Emma does the cheese and Sadie cuts tomatoes.” Kelly sounded frustrated. “If you want to eat, you have to work together.”
Sam gazed at her helplessly. Even Jacob Samuel started to blubber. A rush of hope rose. Maybe if he went about this the right way, Kelly would give in to the urge he could read so clearly on her face to shoo them all away and prepare the meal herself. It would be quicker and cleaner, and he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself by displaying his ineptitude in the kitchen. He dropped that idea when Kelly shook her head.
“It won’t work, Sam,” she said sternly. “I can’t go to town for the afternoon or anywhere else,” she said with emphasis on the anywhere, “knowing that if I was late, you couldn’t feed the kids, so roll up your sleeves.”
Sam sighed and rose. He leaned toward Kelly when she beckoned him closer with one fingertip.
“What kind of an impression will it make on a social worker if their caregiver can’t even feed his family properly?” she said in a voice too low for the twins to hear. “I’m here to help this family gain independence.”
“Where do I start?” he asked, admitting defeat.
“At the beginning. Come on, girls. You, too, little one.” Kelly grinned at Jacob Samuel, who was now gnawing on his fist, and laughed. “I can see you’re starving, so while I feed you, the others will have a cooking lesson.”
Sam forced himself to stop gawking at the beautiful woman in front of him and concentrate on supper. It wasn’t easy. For the next hour Kelly alternated between laughing exasperation and smug satisfaction as he learned how to chop and sauté onions before adding the meat and spices. Though the twins grumbled at first, Sam’s proud success encouraged them to pitch in to do their part of making the meal.
Finally, everything was on the table. The lettuce wasn’t exactly shredded, the cheese resembled large marbles and the tomatoes—well, frankly, the tomatoes were almost mush. But nobody complained, except Arabella. The twins barely lasted through a short grace before they began stuffing ingredients into hard taco shells and trying to wrap their lips around it. Sam didn’t think he’d ever tasted anything so good.
“The twins and I made dinner,” he told Kelly’s parents proudly.
“I can see someone’s been busy.” Arabella gave a dour look at the messy counters. “Cleanup should be fun.”
“What can we make t’morrow?” Sadie’s face bore smears of taco sauce, and her plate was nearly empty.
Emma murmured something. Sam blinked with surprise. Emma seldom volunteered anything.
“What was that, Emma?” Kelly shook her head when Sadie seemed about to answer. “I want Emma to tell me.” She smiled at the little girl to encourage her to speak. They all waited.
Sam was about to give up on her when she whispered, “Pasgetti.”
“Spaghetti?” Emma nodded. “You like pasta?”
“I like pasgetti,” Emma repeated in the faintest whisper.
“Me, too,” Sam added with a grin. “With garlic bread.”
“An’ meatballs,” Sadie added, her smile wide.
“Since we had hamburger in our chili lunch, I suggest we should wait a day or two before we have it again,” Kelly said.
“You’re telling a rancher not to eat beef?” Sam grinned. “Them’s fightin’ words, lady.”
“I didn’t mean—” She blushed beautifully when he chuckled. “Stop teasing me,” she ordered, but her smile spoiled her severe tone.
Sam liked that smile. He liked it a lot.
Chapter Six
Why was it that Sam could make her heart race with just a smile?
“Variety is the spice of life.” Kelly glanced around the supper table, struggling to regain her composure. “How about if we plan a menu for each day so we make sure to cook everyone’s favorites? We could do it tonight after we have dessert.”
“D’sert?” The girls looked at each other, eyes wide. “We’re having d’sert?” Sadie’s searching gaze scanned the kitchen counters. “What?”
“Pie?” Sam’s hopeful green gaze made Kelly’s stomach tighten.
“Did you guys make pie?” Kelly teased. The sad way they shook their heads, Sam’s the saddest shake of all, made her giggle. “We’ll have to plan dessert in our menu, also. For tonight, why don’t we have some canned peaches?”
“That’s Mommy’s go-to d’sert.” Suddenly, Sadie was in tears. “I miss my mommy,” she wailed. Emma sobbed silently beside her.
Kelly’s heart swelled with pride as Sam immediately rose and moved between the girls’ chairs. He looped his arms around each shoulder and hugged them close.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “Mommy and Daddy are okay and so are we.”
Sam was such a great daddy. That added affirmation to Kelly’s decision to help him adopt the kids.
The girls finally stopped weeping when Kelly served the peaches with a package of cookies she’d brought from Europe for her parents.
“They might come in handy tonight,” Arabella had said a few minutes ago as she’d handed the package to Kelly.
“Thanks, Mom.” Kelly had been grateful that for once they seemed on the same page.
Smiles returned as everyone enjoyed the impromptu dessert and lasted right thr
ough the chores of cleanup.
“Mommy and Daddy would be so proud of you girls for helping like this,” Kelly said when the last dish was put away. “Good job, guys.”
The twins left happily to prepare for bed and another of Kelly’s stories. Neil claimed he had a magazine he wanted to read and went upstairs, but Arabella paused in the kitchen doorway.
“If you would kindly inform me of which night you intend to schedule Sam’s spaghetti dinner, your father and I will eat out,” she said with disdain.
So much for harmony.
“Why would you do that, Mom?” Kelly asked curiously. “Don’t you like spaghetti?”
“It’s certainly not my favorite, but that’s not the reason.” Arabella let her gaze roam around the kitchen and landed on Sam with a glower. “If that’s the kind of mess you created making a simple thing like tacos, I can just imagine the state of my daughter’s kitchen when you get your hands on spaghetti sauce.” After including Kelly in her scowl, she stomped upstairs.
Sam gaped after her for a moment then burst into laughter. He quickly slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle it. Kelly had to do the same, shoulders shaking, though inside a part of her felt shame and sadness that her mother couldn’t see tonight’s meal for the success it had been.
“You see what you’ve created,” Sam said when his broad shoulders finally stopped shaking. He glanced at the dishcloth he still held in his hand.
“That was not my fault,” Kelly sputtered. His eyes searched hers, brimming with understanding. One of the girls came in for a kiss on a scratch. Kelly soothed the hurt, smiling as Emma danced away.
“I wish I knew how to do what you do,” he said quietly. “It’s a real gift.”
“I didn’t do anything special.” Kelly stared, confused by his look of admiration.
“You turned a scratch into love. You made a chore—making supper—fun.” Sam’s smile transformed his handsome face into something Hollywood would long to capture. “You keep doing that, keep taking the responsibility I dump on you and making it an experience of learning that the kids can be part of it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She arched one eyebrow. “But the learning experience was supposed to be for you, Sam, to help you build a repertoire of meals you can prepare for the twins when I’m gone.”
For a moment he looked startled, then he laughed. “You continually surprise me, Kelly.”
“I do?” She shoved her hair behind her ear so she could study him. “How?”
“You’re very beautiful. You look like an open book with your innocent brown eyes,” he told her. “But underneath, your brain is constantly working, isn’t it? It’s something I never noticed in Marina.”
“Marina was more accepting of life than me.” Kelly swallowed hard at the memories that cascaded. “She accepted what God sent her and worked with it. I’m not wired the same. I tend to stick my finger in the mix to help God out. As if He needs my help.”
She rolled her eyes, meaning the remark to be lighthearted. But Sam didn’t laugh. Instead he frowned, his brows drawing together in a glower.
“I think God does need help,” he said in a brooding voice. “He needs help to see that people like Naomi don’t deserve what He let her suffer. She lost everything that was precious to her.”
“Did she lose your love?” Kelly watched his expression change, saw tenderness flood his face and thought how lucky his Naomi was to have experienced Sam’s love.
“That could never happen,” he said.
“Then she didn’t lose everything. In fact, she had the most important thing a person can have in this life, and she had it right up until the day she died.” Kelly knew he wouldn’t like hearing it, but she had to say it anyway. “God gave you a love that stayed true.”
“Yeah.” A nerve flickered in his tightening jaw. “And then I buried her.” He turned away, hiding his expression.
Kelly wasn’t sure what to do next. She only knew that she had to somehow help him. Finally, she reached out and brushed her hand against his shoulder.
“I don’t know the reason Naomi died, Sam. I don’t know if you’ll ever know why.” She squeezed the tense muscles then let her fingers drop away. “But there was a reason. God doesn’t just let things happen. Understanding His way isn’t always possible. All you can do is trust that His way is best.”
“That’s all I can do?” He whirled around, his face tight with anger. “Somehow that doesn’t comfort me very much. I can’t think of one reason for a kind, compassionate God to let someone suffer, so excuse me if I’m having a little trouble with trusting.” He tossed the towel on the counter and grabbed his jacket off a peg by the door. “I’m going to check on the newest calves. I’ll be back before the kids go to bed.”
Kelly watched him leave, her heart stinging at his words. Yet she knew that he spoke from pain and loss, because he couldn’t reconcile his faith in God’s goodness with Naomi’s death.
“Help him,” she prayed. “Please help him. Show me how to help him, too.”
She was supposed to be here to help this family, but so far it seemed to Kelly that she wasn’t doing a very good job.
* * *
Sam slammed down a bale of hay with a lot more force than necessary, furious with himself.
Why had he lashed out at Kelly like that? Naomi’s suffering had nothing to do with her. Kelly certainly didn’t owe him any explanations for her rock-solid faith. As Sam checked mothers and calves, Naomi’s words, spoken through broken and chapped lips mere days before she’d passed away, returned to haunt him.
“God doesn’t owe us any explanations, Sam.” Her breathy voice had revealed the pain she’d tried so hard to hide from him. “We gave our lives to Him to do with as He wills, remember? I believe that He’ll use my life. That’s more important than anything, don’t you think?”
“No,” he snarled aloud, scaring the youngest calf, who ran away bawling for its mom.
Sam felt hemmed in, caught, snared like an unsuspecting rabbit. He stepped outside the barn, into the pasture, and glared at the sky, trying to release the pent-up anger he seldom allowed to vent. Until now.
Jake wasn’t here to stop him or worry that he was losing it. The kids were inside with no idea their uncle was yelling at God. Kelly couldn’t hear him, either. Even Oscar, his hired man, was off for the night. He was alone, and he needed to say what boiled inside him.
“You demand too much,” he yelled at God. “I’ve waited. I hung on and tried to believe there was some purpose to her suffering. Nothing’s changed. The world is no different. She’s just another casualty of trusting You.” His mouth tightened, but he had to say it. He couldn’t keep it inside anymore. “I won’t trust You ever again. I can’t.”
There was no flash of thunder to reprimand him; no blazing sword swooped down to lop off his head. No response at all, except that cold hard nub still lay buried deep inside him.
What was the point in railing like this? Either God couldn’t hear or He didn’t care. A relationship with God was supposed to be two-sided, but God was ignoring him.
Sam strode around the paddock, visually checking that the fence was secure so no wild animals could get near his herd. Satisfied, he let himself out through the gate then stood staring at the house, where his brother had built his family.
“I’ll raise them the way Jake and Marina wanted,” he promised softly, his breath emerging in puffs of vapor in the chilly night air. He needed to say this, to make his intent clear to God. “I’ll take them to church on Sunday. I’ll encourage them to be part of the congregation’s activities. I’ll do everything my brother would have done for them. But I’m not doing it for You. Do You understand? I’m doing it for Jake, because he trusted me and I intend to be worthy of his trust.”
The light outside the back door flicked on, and th
e door opened. Kelly stood framed by the light streaming out behind her, peering into the darkness, arms wrapped around her middle to keep warm.
Was she worried about him?
The thought startled Sam. Why would she care about him? They were partners in looking out for the kids, but there was nothing personal between them.
And yet some inner part of Sam knew that wasn’t quite true. He wanted, no, needed, to make sure she had everything she desired, that she wasn’t suffering for coming here, for helping him. More than that, he wanted Kelly to like it on the Triple D—enough to stay?
But how could she? There was nothing for her here, nothing but a life as a glorified babysitter. Even if she did stay, when the twins and Jacob Samuel were finally old enough to leave home, Kelly’s chance to further her career wouldn’t exist.
The light disappeared as Kelly finally stepped inside the house and closed the door. A smile tugged at his lips. She was probably chilled from standing there so long. Now she’d likely go find that sweater she’d taken off earlier. He knew she wouldn’t turn up the heat.
He was going to have to do something about Arabella. And he was going to start tomorrow morning. It was time for Arabella and Neil to move to their own place. Right after breakfast he’d talk with the Emersons, ask them about their house that Abby had spoken of.
Sam’s thoughts returned to Kelly. Such a beautiful woman deserved to have a rich life with a husband who treasured her, to have children of her own to love, to fulfill the dreams he doubted she confided in others. Sam didn’t expect a woman like her, who’d traveled the world, to be satisfied with a boring life on a cattle ranch outside Buffalo Gap, Alberta. It was silly to expect that.
But even in this short time, Sam had grown accustomed to seeing her pretty face when he went to the house. Now it seemed natural to seek her opinion about things, to heed her suggestions and to discuss plans for their parentless little family.
Everyone in Buffalo Gap and the surrounding district had expectations of Sam Denver. Two neighbors were after him to repair their balers. Another wanted his help with a motor for a well. He had his own stuff to ready for spring branding so they could move the herd north.