by Kate Morris
“Your hair is so pretty like that,” Sam comments.
“Are you sure? Sue did it for me. I’m not so sure. I wish we would’ve just done this on the farm.”
Sam smiles and touches her arm. “No, it’s perfect.”
Her mass of red waves has been pulled into a thick twist of knots at the base of her neck with tendrils here and there left down to skim her shoulders. It complements the dress exactly right.
“Check out the rock,” Reagan suggests.
“Right, let me see,” Sam orders and takes her friend’s left hand in hers. “Oooh, so pretty. He’s got good taste.”
“Yes, he does. I told him I didn’t need anything this fancy.”
“He got you, and you’re fancy,” Sam praises. “He probably just wanted something to match.”
Hannah adds, “And he does have good taste. He chose you.”
“You guys,” Paige says and dabs at her eyes with a small kerchief. “Sam, before I forget, thank you so much for that painting in the cabin. It’s so perfect.”
“You’re welcome, ma’am. I knew when Cory commissioned the work that he had something special planned.”
“Yes, he did,” Paige agrees. “I never thought he would’ve built a house for me, but there it is.”
“I’m so happy for you, Paige,” Sam says and hugs her again.
“Knock, knock,” Simon says at the door. “They’re ready for everyone but Paige and Sam.”
Sue ushers everyone from the room except for Paige, Simon, and Sam, who is Paige’s maid of honor. Her brother is dressed in a full suit. He looks exceptionally nice tonight. The suit is a dark navy blue with a starched white shirt underneath and a coordinating tie. His auburn hair is swept back and actually styled and neat for a change and not covered in a baseball cap.
“Sam,” he acknowledges with a nod and heads straight for Paige. “Wow, sis, you look…amazing.”
“Thanks,” she says after a deep inhale. “Am I doing the right thing? Should I be this nervous?”
He smiles warmly at his sister, which makes Sam feel a little wistful. “Yes, I think that’s normal. And you are definitely doing the right thing because I would be stopping you if you weren’t.”
“’Kay,” she says and expels the breath with a nervous smile.
“Cory is the right man for the job,” he assures her. “When he asked my permission, I wasn’t sure at first. Then he told me all the reasons he loves you, and I knew he was your soulmate.”
Sam frowns. This is awfully sentimental for Simon, who is normally so scientific and doesn’t even indulge in ‘hokum’ and ‘nonsensical’ discussions about such things.
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I know so. He loves you very much, Paige, and I know he’ll keep you safe, which is the most important thing to me. No matter what the future holds for the two of you, I’ll feel better knowing Cory is watching over you and that he’ll be with you no matter what.”
“Thanks,” she says, tearing up.
“I love you,” he says and hugs her, causing Sam also to tear up, so she walks toward the door to offer them privacy.
A few seconds later, they are called to walk down the makeshift aisle of the big meeting hall. Sam is shocked at the amount of grandeur and décor the people in town have gone to for the occasion. They’ve strung clear Christmas lights and white silk and chiffon everywhere, draping the atmosphere in romance. Someone has made dried floral arrangements. There is an actual aisle to walk down because the folding chairs have been placed just so to make one.
She walks by herself down the aisle and turns to wait for the bride at the end of it with the other bridesmaids and Cory, Kelly, and Grandpa. She smiles at Cory, and he returns it widely. Everyone stands as Simon walks his sister down the aisle. All the pride in the world is shining in Simon’s eyes as he escorts Paige to Cory. Then he kisses her on the cheek and hands her off. Cory pulls him in for a tight hug, and Sam has to choke down emotion at the intensity of their brotherly bond.
“I love you, brother,” Cory says quietly so that nobody can hear, but Sam does. She doesn’t hear Simon’s response, but it is longer than a three-word sentiment, and it makes Cory tear up.
The ceremony is lovely, the sisters minus Reagan cry, and Cory’s eyes beam down upon his bride with such happiness that Sam actually believes their love will transcend all, that perhaps, just perhaps love will conquer all.
After the wedding, they are all ushered into another, slightly longer but no less decorated room where the wood-burning stove in the corner is already lit, and many long tables full of food are awaiting the guests and lanterns are placed in the middle of those tables for lighting. At the end of the hall, people from town are tuning their instruments. Sam smiles at the charming atmosphere. Everyone is smiling in the same way. People are just happy to be celebrating something good tonight. They’ve all been through so much, it’s just a relief to be able to relax and have fun.
During dinner, Sam sits next to Henry and Dave’s wife and across from the McClanes. The men are loud and raucous, and she imagines this is what it would’ve been like a thousand years ago at a Viking wedding reception.
The children laugh and play and barely touch their food. They are also ready for a night of dancing and socializing and play. The youngest of the McClanes, Isaac, Mary, Daniel, Jacob, and Charlie are in safe keeping at the farm of Bertie and Wayne Reynolds for the night and will be picked up on the ride back home. Talia, of course, is present with her husband Chet, but they’ve left their baby at home, too. Two of the men from the Johnson family and one of their friends in town who works for the sheriff is watching the prisoner in the milking parlor at Grandpa’s farm.
The lights are already dim and the room only lit by lanterns because they have limited solar power at the town hall and must run generators for short periods of time. The feast the people in town have contributed is wonderful. Slabs of ham and pots of stewed beef, mashed potatoes, many different loaves of bread roasted vegetables, even soup is available, and someone has made a wedding cake, an actual wedding cake. She has no doubt that it was Mrs. Crestwich, the former town baker. She always comes up with something special when the occasion calls for it.
Sam glances down the table to find Simon openly staring at her, which makes her nervous. He has been acting so strangely lately. Sam figures it is best to try and ignore him for the rest of the night. When dinner is over, people waste no time moving onto the dance floor, which is just the old hardwood floor beyond the rows of tables.
“Henry,” someone says behind her, tapping Henry on the shoulder. It’s Melora. “Would you care to dance?”
He glances at Sam with hesitation. She nods and smiles, so he graciously accepts the invitation and stands. “If you don’t mind my two left feet, ma’am.”
Melora laughs gaily and stares up at him with her heart on her sleeve. Apparently, her friends were right, and Melora doesn’t have feelings for her uncle.
Sue rushes around the table and slides into Henry’s empty seat next to her. “Hey, kiddo.”
She hugs her and Sam returns it.
“We’ve missed you lately. Wanna’ come home with us tonight for a short stay?”
Sam inhales and holds it. This is painful but the only option. “Um, no. I think I should go back home with Uncle Scott.”
“I think he’s leaving in a few days for Fort Knox with Grandpa.”
“What?” Sam asks confusedly. “I didn’t know about that.”
“If the weather breaks, I think they’re planning a trip north. They’ve been talking about it lately, but with everything that’s been going on, it just kept getting put off. Now, with this guy in the milk house, Grandpa wants to talk to our dad again about the possibility of the President coming here.”
“Oh,” she replies softly. “Yes, that makes sense.”
“And he wants to work with the doctors up there. Dr. Avery’s going with them. Simon, too.”
“Oh?” she asks, tryi
ng not to be so obvious. Sam crosses her arms over her chest and then forces herself to undo them again. She noticed Dr. Eliza Avery hanging on Simon’s every word during dinner. He even had her laughing out loud a few times. Now they are dancing a slow dance together. It makes Sam want to gag. She just wants to go back to the compound. “Sounds like a good plan.”
“Do you want to go with them? Or you could come to the farm. Your uncle said to me earlier that he’d feel better leaving if he knew you were with us.”
“But I’ll be safe at the compound, too.”
Sue gives a sympathetic nod. “I know. I think he’d just feel better because he trusts us. We did manage to keep you alive for over three years until he found you again.”
Sam chuffs gently as Sue takes her hand in hers and gives it a light squeeze. “Right,” Sam says.
“With Paige going to the cottage with Cory, you’d have your own room at the big house until your uncle comes back, and you know how much the kids love seeing you.”
“I’ll think about it,” she answers.
“You do that, kiddo,” she says and stands, leans down and kisses Sam on the forehead, and leaves to chase down one of her children.
Gretchen comes over next to hang out and chat. She’s wearing black skinny jeans, her standard combat style boots, and a dark green sweater that brings out the hazel in her eyes. She must’ve had Sue chop off her hair again, though, because it’s back to being short. Her tough exterior doesn’t seem to be deterring any of the teenage boys in town. Many have sent appreciative glances her way.
“Going to dance with any of these cute boys?” she asks.
G snorts and laughs. “Get real. This sucks. I wanted to stay home, but Luke made me come.”
Sam laughs at her young friend’s dismay.
“And nothing’s working out. Melora’s dancing with Henry. I know Luke likes her. He keeps denying it, but he can’t lie to me.”
“Aw,” Sam says with regret. “I’m so sorry, G.”
“It’s ok. He’ll find someone else. There are plenty…hm, well, I guess there aren’t as many fish in the sea anymore, but there’s bound to be someone out there for him.”
She makes Sam laugh, always does. Gretchen groans and rises.
“Hey, I’ll see you at home, ‘kay? I gotta skate. Huntley’s coming over with some of his friends.”
“Don’t like his friends?”
“No, don’t like him,” she says with an ornery smile and disappears as quickly as she appeared.
Sam rises and mingles around the room, talking with friends from town, more family members, and her old neighbors near the farm. It doesn’t take long for people to crack open the windows since it is becoming stifling hot. She smiles when she spies Ari dancing with Cory, who will always be her first love. Then Sam steps outside for a few minutes, letting the fresh snowflakes cool her. She even catches a few on her tongue. Then it becomes too cold, and she returns to the building. They’ve placed a few lanterns in the hallway to help people find their way in the dark.
“Good evening, Sam,” Simon says, startling her as she walks back into the reception room.
“Simon!” she exclaims and places her hand over her heart.
“Sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was just wondering if you’d dance with me.”
The room is crowded and hot still, but her cheeks do not turn from the temperature but from the rush of emotions flooding her insides. He has discarded his suit jacket somewhere and is wearing the sleeves of his white button-down shirt rolled back to the elbows.
“Please,” he pleads, tilts his head to the side just slightly, and holds out his hand. A cluster of his slicked back hair falls over his forehead.
“Sure,” she answers quietly and not with any amount of confidence in her decision.
Once she places her hand in his, Sam knows she could be in trouble. Her hand feels like an ice cube in his warm one as he leads her to the dance floor where so many couples are enjoying a slow dance sung by one of the daughters of the town sheriff’s brother. She has a lovely voice and is the mother of three, equally sweet little girls.
She sighs as Simon stops and turns to her. She recognizes it as the song they’d listened to in the car weeks ago. The sheriff’s niece is singing it much slower and in a higher key, but it is the same song. It’s beautiful this way, just guitar accompaniment and her angelic voice. Had he planned this? He steps close and slips an arm around her waist.
“Are you…are you having a good time?” Simon stammers as he pulls her in closer.
Simon holds one of her hands in his against his chest while her other rests on his shoulder. He begins swaying to the music and actually seems like he knows what he is doing. Has he practiced dancing with someone or did he always know how? This is so unlike Simon in every sense of the word. He’s not someone who would ask a girl to dance or know how to do it, either. He actually seems very relaxed and almost suave. It’s throwing her off.
“Sure. Of course. I’m happy for Paige and Cory. They deserve every happiness,” she finally replies.
“So do you,” he comments casually and pauses before asking, “Are you happy, Sam?”
She drops her gaze to the dance floor near them and avoids his direct stare.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he says.
“I’m as happy as I need to be,” she returns, feeling slightly affronted that he would speak for her or presume to know her mind.
“That’s not good enough for me,” he says. “I want you to be happy. You’ve been through so much you deserve to have whatever you want in this world.”
“Nobody gets everything they want,” she retorts.
Suddenly, Simon’s blue gaze turns dark as he glares over her shoulder. Then someone taps there.
“Excuse me, Sam, can I cut in?” Henry asks as Simon brings their dance to a halt.
“No,” Simon forcefully answers.
“Simon,” she says with a gasp. “Sorry, Henry. Actually, I’m not feeling well. I need some fresh air.”
“I’ll walk you,” Henry offers.
“Like you did when she fell down the stairs and I had to sew her back together after removing a steel rod from her leg?” Simon throws out with antagonism and accusation.
“Simon!” she repeats slightly louder and stalks away in anger.
She rushes out of the room into the hallway as John hurries over to intervene so Henry and Simon don’t kill each other.
The snow outside has picked up. She passes the guards keeping a watchful eye over the building while the people celebrate. She takes a deep breath and tries to calm her nerves. A second later, the door to the building slams against the wall and Simon appears. He is in such a hurry that he skids in the snow.
“Sam!” he calls out and draws near. “You forgot your jacket.”
He hands it to her, but she is too angry to accept it. Instead, she says, “What the hell was that, Simon?”
“What?” he asks, oblivious as usual.
“You know what. Why were you so rude to Henry?”
He rakes a hand through his hair as if he’s frustrated and then pulls her jacket around her shoulders. “You’re going to get sick.”
“So?” she blares at him.
“Be reasonable,” he reprimands, making her madder.
She gives him a glare but reluctantly pokes her arms through the sleeves anyway.
He tries to explain. “I wasn’t the one who was rude. I was dancing with you. He didn’t need to cut in. He could’ve patiently waited his turn.”
“That’s just what people do, Simon. They ask to cut in,” she argues.
“He asked because he’s nervous. That’s the only reason.”
“Nervous? About what?”
He reaches for her hands and says, “Because he sees how I feel about you, and it’s making him nervous.”
“Simon!” she growls. “He’d be the only one.”
He sighs as snowflakes coat the top of his h
ead white. “I think it’s time to change that. I want you to understand exactly how I feel. Every time I try to talk to you, something happens. We get interrupted or you have to leave.”
“I choose to leave,” she corrects and gets a scowl.
“Yes, unfortunately, I think that’s probably the more apt way of putting it. You do leave the farm a lot.”
“I don’t belong there anymore,” she admits with bitter defeat.
“You do,” he contends. “But it’s fine. You can live wherever you want. It’s your decision, and I can’t control that. I just want you to be happy, but I also want you to be safe. I trust Dave to make sure nothing happens to you.”
“I can also take care of myself,” she says with superiority.
He chuckles, “Yes, I know. You’re better with a knife than me.” Then he pauses and sighs and rubs his thumbs over the backs of her hands. “I feel protective of you. I don’t think that will ever change.”
She looks down at their clasped hands and pulls hers away.
Simon sighs again and continues, “No matter what or who you choose, Samantha, I’ll respect your decision. You’ve earned that. With everything you’ve been through, everything you’ve suffered, you deserve to make your own choice.”
“I’m not choosing anyone, Simon,” she returns. “And why would you even care if I chose Henry? You’re not interested. Remember?”
Sam really doesn’t like the nasty tone in her voice. It holds way too much contempt toward someone she cares about.
He looks down at her with eyes that have softened, “That’s not true, Sam.”
“You told me so. Many times, in fact,” she says, jutting out her jaw to protect her hurt feelings of rejection.
“I know,” he says with a nod. “I know. It wasn’t true, Sam.”
“What do you mean?” she asks and sniffs from the cold, her breath coming out in a gray plume. Outside the building is dark except for the light coming through the windows. In another setting, in another time, it might seem romantic with the snow falling around them. Not tonight. Not ever with Simon.