Finding Home (Montana Born Homecoming Book 2)

by Snopek, Roxanne

  Samara tensed, then sat up abruptly.

  Over the baby monitor came a small voice.

  “Mama?”

  *

  Sam leaped out of bed and adjusted her clothing with shaking hands, relieved that she’d put on the good underwear that morning.

  Because that’s what’s important right now.

  Every cell in her body screamed at her to strip off the new panties and everything else and climb back into bed with Logan but that wasn’t an option.

  Still, she paused at the door and looked back at him. He remained on his side, one elbow beneath his head, the other arm lying on the empty sheets beside him.

  Desire, a silent entreaty, patient and relentless simmered off him in waves, catching her in the solar plexus, nearly bringing her to her knees.

  This was unfair to him, to both of them, but it was Logan her heart broke for. What was she doing, getting lost in his arms when her child was in the next room, suffering through a nightmare alone? How could she let him think that this could work?

  “I’m sorry,” she began.

  “No.” He eased off the bed. “Do not be sorry.”

  Sam grabbed a hoodie and yanked it on. “This should never have happened. I have to go.”

  She whirled around and reached for the door, but Logan got there before her.

  “You needed that.” He leaned down and kissed her, his tongue grazing her lip, sending her flames even higher.

  “You should go. I can’t… we can’t… we just can’t.”

  Another cry sounded over the monitor, small but distinct.

  “She’s fine, Sam,” he said softly.

  “I have to go!” She was having trouble breathing. “This was a mistake.”

  Logan touched her cheek, eased a strand of hair away from her face, his laser-like gaze drinking in every freckle and line.

  “You’re crying, Sam. You’re going to scare her.” He kissed away a tear. “Let me check on Jade.”

  He took her hand and before she knew it, they were following an anxious Bob to Jade’s doorway.

  The dog looked between the two of them for a moment, as if thinking. Would Bob even allow someone else in Jade’s room?

  “Mama.” Faint hiccupping sobs shuddered over the small form in the bed. She wasn’t even awake.

  Logan stepped forward, Bob at his side, apparently giving full approval.

  Samara clung to the door, watching in the dim light, as Logan perched on the edge of Jade’s bed and lightly stroked the hair off her forehead.

  “Hey, chipmunk, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

  Jade frowned and her eyes fluttered open. “Mr. S?” she mumbled, her lisp more pronounced in sleep.

  “I’m here, honey. Your mama’s here too. Go back to sleep.”

  Samara held her breath. This is where Jade would typically panic, searching for the one constant in her ever-changing life.

  But after a moment or two of blinking blearily, Jade simply said, “Okay. C’mon, Bob.”

  That was it? She was just going back to sleep?

  A strange mix of confused relief struck Sam. It was another milestone for Jade, to be sure. And a tiny bit of freedom for Sam, a little step toward letting go.

  And the realization that maybe she wasn’t indispensable, after all.

  But isn’t that what you wanted?

  Wasn’t this part of living in community? Being able to share responsibility? It takes a village to raise a child, and all that?

  Sharing her child with a man, however, was different.

  Samara swallowed hard, memories rushing over her. From the beginning, she admitted to herself, she’d cut Michael out of the circle. In her determination to do the best job possible, she’d done it all. No wonder he’d had trouble bonding with Jade.

  No wonder he’d resented the baby and wondered if there was something wrong with her. No wonder he’d found fault with everything Samara did. Instead of gaining a daughter, he’d lost his wife, left out in the cold, with no role to play.

  Grief revisited her but for the first time, it came without stirring up bitterness.

  I’m sorry, Michael.

  Bob hopped back onto the bed and curled up tightly next to Jade, resting her head on the little pink-clad shoulders.

  “Good girls,” murmured Logan. The dog thumped the bed with her tail.

  Quietly, he backed out and shut the door. In the dim glow of the nightlight, he looked down at Sam, his expression unreadable.

  Logan had slipped so easily into a place of comfort and ease with Jade. And she was letting him.

  Why?

  Sam bowed her head. She’d made so many mistakes. She and Michael hadn’t had enough time to learn how to be a family. They had failed each other and they’d loved each other and they’d kept on until death parted them.

  “Hey, hey,” whispered Logan. He drew her against his chest. “What’s all this about?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak and after a while, her silent sobs abated.

  He held her away, examining her face.

  She still read desire in his gaze, but it was tempered with caution. As well it should. She was a mess, thinking about her daughter and her late husband, only minutes after being intimate with Logan. She didn’t know if she should invite him back to her room now or not. Away from the heat of the moment, she didn’t know how to feel about her earlier wantonness.

  “You should get some rest,” he said, finally.

  “Logan-”

  “Shh.” He touched a finger to her lips. “Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He kissed her again, a sweet, lingering kiss full of gentleness and promise that left her aching with longing.

  When she tiptoed back into her room alone, she saw the bed, covers rumpled, both pillows indented.

  It wouldn’t have surprised her to see smoke rising from the sheets.

  Logan’s touch had been a match to long-forgotten kindling lying hidden among the ashes in the cold hearth of her heart. She turned out the light and slid back underneath the sheets, where the ghost of his cologne still lingered. Now, with her head clear for the first time in hours, she lay back and thought about what exactly she was doing.

  She was preparing to move into her new house, that’s what she was supposed to be preoccupied with.

  But even as she pushed Logan from her mind, she traced a path over her breasts and ribs, and lower, remembering what he’d done to her, the life he’d breathed into her with his touch, the pleasure he’d brought, with her giving nothing in return.

  What would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted?

  She knew the answer to that. They were no longer teenagers, hiding out from their parents, sneaking off for clandestine meetings under the bleachers.

  She remembered the sound of his voice in the emergency room. How her heart had leapt when he strode to her side and put his arm around her and supported her, when she believed she had no one.

  She hadn’t asked him to come. In fact, she had an uneasy recollection of throwing some harsh words his way.

  Why had he followed her? Was it possible that that long-ago, tender, immature passion had carried over to adulthood, for both of them?

  She’d barely thought of him over the years. What was the point? She didn’t know where she’d be from one month to the next, it seemed, and what teenage guy wants a long-distance relationship?

  And once she was on her own, squeezing each dime, working days and studying nights for those life-changing scholarships, there was no time.

  Besides, he’d probably forgotten all about her anyway. They’d moved on. He made his life, she made hers. They shared a brief, wonderful time together, then it was over.

  Hot tears trickled down her cheeks.

  Who was she kidding? She’d never stopped thinking about Logan; the spaces in between lengthened, that’s all. Then there was Michael and the sweet, whirlwind honeymoon rush, and then right away, too soon, there was Jade and the honeymoon wa
s over and then it was tragedy and black days when it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other.

  She’d never, in a million years, expected Logan to still be in Marietta. He’d been a mover and shaker, destined for more than a small-town life.

  She certainly hadn’t expected him to be single.

  Knock, knock.

  Samara jumped, then scrambled out of bed and reached for her robe.

  “Yes?”

  She opened the door to find Aunt Mabel standing there, holding her casted arm.

  “Good, you’re awake.” She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “I need someone to make me a cup of tea.”

  “Shouldn’t you be resting?” said Samara, following hesitantly. The way Aunt Mabel walked suggested she was in more pain than she let was willing to admit.

  “I’ll rest when I’m ready.” She gestured rather imperiously to the cups and saucers on the table. “I don’t like to go to bed with tasks undone.”

  Sam heated up the water and poured it steaming over the tea bags, feeling as if she’d just been called into the principal’s office.

  “You, Samara Kim, or Davis or whatever name you’re using, are more work than I was expecting.” Aunt Mabel observed her over the rim of her teacup, her expression steady, waiting.

  Instantly, Sam’s defences rose. “I know we’re staying longer than originally planned. I’m sorry. And I shouldn’t have left Jade with you. I expected my house to be ready by now and-”

  “You’re apologizing for the wrong things, child.”

  Aunt Mabel’s eyes sparked. She set down her cup.

  “If I had my way, Bramble House would never have been opened to strangers. Always in and out, with their muddy shoes and their noise and clutter. But there’s nothing for it and I will not complain. However. Some behavior I cannot abide.”

  Sam looked down, feeling her face flame, like the teenage version of herself she’d just been thinking of.

  But Mabel held up her good hand. “I’m referring to your treatment of Eliza.”

  Eliza.

  Mabel was absolutely right. Sam winced, remembering her outburst at the hospital. She’d acted badly out of fear for her daughter and had hurt her hosts in the process. But she hadn’t expected to be called onto the carpet for it.

  “Eliza is my great-niece.” Mabel sighed and shook her head. “The Bramble blood is thin in her, but nevertheless, she is family and I cannot stand by and see her misjudged. It is Eliza to whom you must apologize.”

  “Of, of course,” stammered Samara. She recalled the tight smiles of women who would chat with her at the park, but raise their eyebrows when she needed an emergency contact name. And somehow forget to invite her to their book club.

  This straightforward scolding was a shock, but refreshing too, in a way. So much better than always wondering if the other mothers avoided her because her daughter didn’t always play well with others, or if her tragic loss had marked her in some way, made her defective.

  “You’re a tough nut to crack. That’s what I meant by you being work.” Aunt Mabel took a sip of tea. “I believe in being honest. And so I confess, for some unaccountable reason, I find you less… unpleasant than our usual guests.”

  Samara looked up from her tea. “What?”

  “Now don’t go reading all sorts of things into it. I’ll enjoy the quiet just fine, once you’re gone. Perhaps I’ve spent too much time with Eliza, but you and Jade intrigue me.”

  Mabel frowned as if annoyed at the confession.

  “We intrigue you?”

  “Yes. You irritate me as well and I’ll tell you why.” Mabel pursed her lips. “My family founded Marietta. Good people have come and gone. Many have stayed. Now outsiders seem to be flocking in, which is unavoidable, I suppose, but when people like you decide to settle in my town, you could have the decency to recognize how lucky you are.”

  “I am lucky. I’d never have been able to purchase a home like this in the city.”

  “I’m not talking about real estate!” snapped Mabel. “Marietta is full of people who’d like to be your friends if you would unbend long enough to give them a chance.”

  Sam thought about Sage Carrigan and the little girl – Savannah? – that Jade had played with.

  Being needy scared people away.

  But being walled off was worse.

  “And for heaven’s sake, would you put Logan out of his misery? The poor man is turning himself inside out for you.”

  Samara’s head snapped up at that.

  Aunt Mabel snorted delicately. “He’s been one of Marietta’s most eligible bachelors for too long. Ever since divorcing that useless ditz of a wife, we’ve all been watching and waiting for him to dip his toes into the dating pool again. Nothing. Then, you show up and what happens? He dives straight into the deep end, without taking off his shoes.”

  An image of the two of them, twined together on her bed, flashed into Sam’s mind.

  “I don’t wish to know details,” emphasized Aunt Mabel, “but I know a man in love when I see one.”

  In love.

  Samara set down her cup, sloshing tea into the saucer. “We were in love once, a long time ago. Seeing each other again has brought back a lot of memories, that’s all.”

  Aunt Mabel regarded her steadily across the table, but didn’t speak.

  “He’s been great with Jade, and that caught me off guard,” continued Samara, feeling desperate. “I’ve seen him with his students, so I know he’s got a gift for kids. And he’s been working day and night to get my house ready because it’s his job. He’d do it for anyone, I’m sure.”

  But would he follow just anyone to the hospital, hold her when she was fighting him off, support her despite her craziness, challenge her to try trusting people again? Ease past her defences and touch her with such gentle passion she couldn’t help but –

  “Oh God,” she said with a gasp.

  “There you go.” Aunt Mabel smiled and lifted her cup. “Now we’re cooking with gas.”

  Samara was in love with Logan.

  All over again.

  Chapter Ten

  ‡

  The persistent tinkling of her cell phone hauled Samara from a deep sleep the next morning. It had taken a long time to settle down last night.

  She grabbed it off the night table, just as it went to voice mail. The notification screen read A-1 Movers.

  Good. She’d been trying to get a status report from them.

  She clicked the recording, and rubbed her eyes while waiting for it to play.

  She felt awful for Mabel’s injury, and worse for the way she’d spoken to Eliza. But Jade was fine. As self-centered as it seemed, that was the main thing.

  As for Logan… knotted emotions writhed eel-like inside her. She ran a hand through her hair.

  They’d crossed a line last night. Part of her was grateful that Jade had awakened when she did; part of her wanted desperately to know what it would feel like to have Logan inside her, to finally have that ache eased, to let their bodies connect the way their minds and hearts already had.

  “This is A-1 Movers,” said a chipper voice on the other end. “We’re pleased to inform you that the truck containing your belongings is scheduled to arrive at the address you provided at 1 pm today. We’re happy we were able to accommodate your adjusted date. Thank you for choosing A-1 Movers. Have a great day!”

  Sam looked at the small screen in confusion.

  Today?

  “No, no, no,” she muttered, her fingers flying over the keys. Surely this was a mistake. She’d been crystal clear that she needed more time, not less time! This was even worse than the original date!

  “This is A-1 Movers,” said the same chipper voice.

  “This is Samara Davis,” she began.

  “Your call is important to us,” interrupted the voice. And then her phone died.

  “Argh!” Sam threw the device against her pillow, where it bounced harmlessly. In all the activity las
t night, she’d forgotten to charge it.

  Activity involving Logan, in her bed, massaging her, caring for her, giving her the best-

  She leaped out of bed and quickly yanked on the first outfit that came to hand. Her furniture was arriving soon, but her house wasn’t ready.

  She needed Logan.

  Low in her belly, something fluttered. He’d know what to do. He’d help figure it out.

  Mabel and Eliza were already up, sipping tea, when Samara entered the kitchen. The fresh white cast on Aunt Mabel’s left hand beamed brightly in the morning sunshine, but there were heavy, bruised circles under her eyes. Had she stayed up late just for their talk?

  “Good morning,” said Eliza quietly. “You’re just in time for French toast. Coffee’s fresh, too, if you want.”

  Remembering the point of Mabel’s speech, Sam forced herself to slow down. She went directly to Eliza. “I’m so sorry for how I spoke to you yesterday, Eliza. You’ve been so wonderful with Jade. You’ve been kind and welcoming and I treated you abominably. I hope you can forgive me. And I hope we can be friends.”

  Eliza’s face broke open with a smile as she pulled Samara into a hug. “It’s forgotten. And of course we can be friends. We already are.”

  “I’m so glad.” Until that moment, Sam hadn’t realized how important it was to mend that bridge. “I’m so glad!”

  “Perhaps,” said Mabel, “I could trouble one of you to refill my cup before I perish of dehydration.”

  “Absolutely,” said Sam. “I just have to use the house phone briefly. Is that okay?”

  Dull red rose in Eliza’s cheeks. “It would be, except the company is, um, doing maintenance in our area right now. A tree down or something.”

  “Or you forgot to pay the bill again,” suggested Mabel, waspishly.

  Eliza’s cell phone buzzed. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” She practically ran from the room, frowning at the device.

  Great, thought Samara. No phone. Maybe she could borrow Eliza’s cell, once she was done.

  “How are you feeling this morning, Aunt Mabel?”

  “Thirsty,” said Mabel.

  Samara dropped a kiss onto the old woman’s papery cheek. Mabel shrank back and pulled the knitted throw in her lap over her shoulder, padding her bad arm. Her skin felt cool and even clammy beneath Sam’s lips and she was paler than usual.