by Deb Kastner
No more. No less.
He’d already messed up one woman’s life with his attention—or lack thereof. He wouldn’t do it again.
“We were just discussing where Will and Genevieve will be living,” Amanda interjected, her voice a surprisingly reasonable, even tone compared to the younger women.
And he’d thought she was overly exuberant when he’d first met her.
“If he needs a place to stay, there’s plenty of room on my ranch,” Alexis offered with a flirtatious grin. “You could kick back with the stable hands. They’ve got a few extra bunks.”
“I’d invite you,” said Mary, her cheeks coloring a rose pink, “except that I live alone.”
“You’re not exactly alone with those gazillion dogs of yours,” Alexis amended with a hoot.
Mary chuckled. “What about asking Pastor Shawn for assistance?”
“Ladies,” Samuel said, toning down the conversation like a maestro controlling a symphony. “We’ve already got the details of Will’s living arrangements worked out to everyone’s satisfaction. He’ll be staying in one of our cabins along the creek and doing cabinetry work for us in exchange for room and board. Everybody wins.”
Samantha sputtered and looked like she was choking. Her face turned beet red and her mouth moved, but no words came out. Clearly, she didn’t believe everybody in this situation would win, but she caught herself and smiled at him.
Will clamped down on the emotions welling in his chest. She had no idea what her help meant to him. It wasn’t easy for him to humble his pride and accept assistance, but this wasn’t about him. It was about Genevieve, and he would do anything for his little girl.
With all he’d been through in the past months, appreciation didn’t even begin to cover what he owed the Howells for their goodwill. He didn’t know how to express it in words.
What he could do was pull his weight around here. He could shoulder some of the burden the grocery created. And he could get the B&B cabins into working condition and help the elder Howells realize their dreams.
“I’ll get moved into the cabin tonight, and then I’m ready to start work first thing in the morning,” he told Samantha.
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Sunday.”
“Right,” he agreed. “So?”
“So...the grocery isn’t open on Sundays.”
“Not at all?”
“Nope. The whole town rolls up at about six o’clock every night and all day on Sundays. You won’t find much of anything open around here during the evenings and half of the weekend. Serendipity is an old-fashioned town with old-fashioned ways.”
Will whistled through his teeth. “What do people do if they forget an ingredient for Sunday dinner?”
Samantha laughed. “Borrow from their neighbors or make do with what they have on hand. You’ll get used to it after a while.”
“I sincerely doubt that,” Will muttered under his breath. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with, now he was living in a town that not only looked like a throwback to the late 1800s but acted like it, as well.
“You’re welcome to come to church with us tomorrow morning,” Samantha offered. “It’s a community congregation. You’ll have the opportunity to meet a lot of the townspeople.”
“No thanks,” he said abruptly, and then realized how bad that sounded. These people had been gracious to him. He cleared his throat. “That is to say, I’m not really much of a churchgoing man. I appreciate the offer, though.”
Samantha looked stunned and a little wounded, which surprised him.
“I’ll be meeting most of the town folks here at the grocery, won’t I?” he asked, in what he hoped was a more positive tone of voice.
“Certainly. Of course. You can meet people here at the store.” Samantha smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but surely he wasn’t the only man in town who didn’t believe in a feel-good deity who handed out free favors, or worse yet, an angry God who zapped people with bolts of lightning when He didn’t like what they were doing.
If he was going to believe in one of those, it would surely be the latter. His life hadn’t been graced with many favors.
But then again, if there was a God who punished people for their sins, he would have been deep-fried a long time ago.
Somehow, he thought there was probably more to Samantha’s request to join them at church tomorrow than just meeting folks from town. But now that he’d turned her down, he would never know.
Chapter Two
Sunday was Samantha’s only real day off. As she’d informed Will, Sam’s Grocery, like every other shop in town, was closed on Sundays. After she spent the morning playing the organ for the church and sharing a nice family dinner with her parents, Sunday afternoon was her time to kick back and relax, maybe read a romance novel or watch some television.
But today was a sunny day, and Samantha decided she didn’t want to stay indoors. Problems were plaguing her and she desperately needed some fresh air to clear her head.
Her first inclination was to go find her friends. She was certain that Mary and Alexis had plenty to say about Will. They’d probably already started making plans for landing him a wife here in Serendipity, possibly even tossing a coin as to which one of them would have the honor.
But Samantha didn’t really want to talk about Will. She didn’t even want to think about him, though unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to get him out of her head. She was still mildly resentful of the fact that he’d had been thrust into her life with no notice.
Still, thinking about Will was preferable to thinking about her other issue—the letter from Stay-n-Shop. She still had no idea how she was going to handle that matter.
She sighed. One problem at a time.
Since Will was on her mind anyway, maybe she could do something nice for him and Genevieve. Take them to the park, maybe?
She raised her head and smiled, making a conscious decision to put her fears aside for the day and concentrate on her faith. This was Sunday, after all.
Despite her reservations about her new employee, she didn’t have a heart of stone, and the guy had his plate full trying to take care of his little girl on his own. She had the impression he was determined to do his best despite the reticence she thought she sensed in him.
And Genevieve—the poor sweetheart, losing her mother at such a tender young age. Samantha had had a wonderful childhood with two parents who loved her and each other, and paternal grandparents who’d been married, well, forever, until her grandmother had passed away at age seventy-five last year. She couldn’t imagine what losing a mother must feel like—especially for a four-year-old.
Samantha didn’t know the specifics of how Genevieve’s mother had died, but she knew enough to know that the little girl was both frightened and confused by her new surroundings, and by suddenly having to live with a father she hardly knew.
Yesterday at the shop, Genevieve hadn’t smiled—not even when she was enticed with candy. Not even when her father picked her up in his arms. She’d barely spoken more than a word, though Samantha had encouraged her every way she knew how.
Did the child have some disability, or had recent circumstances and emotional issues just caused her to hide in her shell? She supposed only time would tell.
It didn’t help that Will wasn’t sure of himself as a father. Despite how strong he appeared upon first observation, she’d glimpsed the buck-in-the-headlights look when his eyes alighted on his daughter. That he loved her was evident. That he wasn’t sure what to do with her was equally evident. Samantha didn’t think he was as hopeless as he believed himself to be, but again, only time would tell on that count.
God had laid a lot on her plate in the past day. Will was here to stay, and som
ehow, she had to find a way to integrate him into her daily life. Like that was going to be easy. There was plenty of work to be done, and in truth Samantha was intrigued by the idea of having help, but not from the large, handsome ex-soldier.
She suspected he would be more of a hindrance than a help. Really, how could he not be? His size alone would be a hindrance—he’d be bumping into things all over the place. Besides, the store could only be described as slow and steady and the work was repetitive, with little beyond the daily routine to break up the monotony. He’d be bored one day into the job, and in her experience, bored men meant trouble.
Like her brother, for example, who couldn’t keep an inventory straight to save his life, not because he couldn’t count, but because he got sidetracked by every pretty girl who entered the store.
She sighed and reminded herself again that this was not a day for problems. She didn’t have the slightest idea what she was going to do with Will, but at least she had some idea of what to do with his daughter.
She walked up to the cottage door where Will and Genevieve were staying and paused a moment to collect herself. It wouldn’t do for Will to see that she was still struggling with her own feelings of frustration and resentment. Those were her issues, not his.
She knew that God would want her to be generous and charitable—but knowing the truth and feeling it were two different things entirely. Sometimes a woman just had to live by faith and wait for her heart to catch up to her.
She took a deep breath and knocked.
No one answered, so after a moment, she knocked again, harder this time.
“Hello,” she called. “Anybody home? It’s Samantha.” She thought about peering in the front window but decided it would be rude and might invade his privacy.
She’d just reached out to knock a third time when the door flew open and she nearly fell into the room. Will stood in the entrance holding Genevieve. The girl was wrapped in a green bath towel with a froggie face on the hood. Wet black curls framed her face and water dripped from her nose.
Will looked as if he’d taken a dunk. He was wearing worn blue jeans and an Army-issue tan T-shirt that was soaked with water, clinging to his chest and muscular arms. She couldn’t help but take a second look.
Samantha held back a chuckle when she realized he had bath bubbles clinging to the spiked blond hair on top of his head.
“You...uh...” she said, pointing awkwardly, “have...”
Instead of finishing her sentence, she reached up on tiptoe and scooped the bubbles into her palm. With a playful grin, she held them out to him so he could see.
“A new fashion statement?” she teased.
She thought that would bring a laugh—or at the very least a smile—but instead his expression darkened.
“I was trying to give Genevieve a bath,” he explained, as if it wasn’t perfectly obvious. “As you can see, my mission was an epic fail.”
Samantha smothered another laugh. Only an Army guy would consider giving his child a bath a mission. And how did one fail a bath, anyway?
Her gaze swept over Genevieve. “She looks clean enough to me.”
Will sighed. “Maybe. But you should see the state of the bathroom.” He gestured at his shirtfront. “Also, I hadn’t intended to give myself a bath in the process.”
Samantha made a final, valiant effort not to laugh at what Will clearly did not consider to be a humorous situation, but this time, a chuckle sputtered from her lips.
He looked at his shirtfront and then back at her, his twinkling chocolate-colored gaze mixing with hers. Her breath hitched.
“This is funny, isn’t it?”
“Well...yeah. Pretty much. Cute, too.”
“Cute?” He choked out the word, clearly appalled by the notion.
“I meant Genevieve,” she assured him, though in all honesty, Will, with his wet clothes and bath bubbles in his hair, was every bit as adorable as his little girl.
Which was precisely what Samantha suspected a man’s man like Will Davenport would not want to know about himself.
There was no doubt in Samantha’s mind that every unmarried woman in Serendipity—except for her, of course—was going to be doing all she could to catch Will’s eye. Will was going to have his work cut out for him.
“I came by to see if you and Genevieve might like to join me for a picnic in the park.” She lofted the picnic basket she carried in her left hand. “I’ve got ham, turkey, fresh rolls, some fruit and cheese. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I threw in a little bit of everything.”
He eyed the basket speculatively and then shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I think Genevieve might feel overwhelmed playing at a park with a bunch of kids she doesn’t know.”
“Is she normally shy around other children?”
He frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Well, then, there’s no harm in trying, is there? If she’s not enjoying herself, we can always bring her back home. But I suspect she may surprise you.”
He glanced behind him, as if remembering something important he had forgotten to do. “I’ve still got a lot to accomplish to get us settled in before I start work in the morning.”
She could hear the hesitation in his voice, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he felt a duty to get his things in order, or because he didn’t want to go with her and was searching for a polite way to decline her invitation.
“Oh, come on,” she urged. “You have to eat.”
“I’m hungry,” announced Genevieve.
Will’s gaze met Samantha’s and they both chuckled. He tapped the tip of his daughter’s nose. “Well, then, Monkey,” he said, reaching to take the picnic basket from Samantha, “I guess we’d better get you dressed so Miss Howell can take us to the park.”
* * *
Leaning on one elbow, Will stretched his legs out on the picnic blanket and popped a bit of a fresh whole-wheat roll into his mouth, savoring the way it melted on his tongue. The roll was perfectly baked, just the way he liked it—crispy outside and soft inside.
Samantha, Will was quickly learning, was a lot like the bread she’d brought—a little hard on the outside, at least upon first meeting, but a real softy inside.
Samantha shrieked playfully as Genevieve chased her. The little girl was, as Samantha had predicted, having a wonderful time in the park, both with the other children and with Samantha, who at first hovered protectively nearby without making Genevieve feel uncomfortable, and then flat-out joined in the games.
The kids accepted Samantha as if she was one of their own, as if it wasn’t odd to see an adult crawling through their tunnels and climbing over the bars on their jungle gym. They laughed and played alongside her, even giving her a turn on the slide when she asked.
Will watched with amusement as Samantha worked up a little too much speed sliding down and, with a screech of surprise, landed on her backside, creating a cloud of dust in the sand.
Will was on his feet in an instant, offering her a hand up.
“That looked like it hurt,” he commented as she brushed the sand from her jeans.
She beamed at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “The only ache is my dignity, and I don’t have much of that to begin with.”
Her lack of self-consciousness made Will a little jealous. He’d spent his whole life striving for decorum and honor, and yet he knew perfectly well that he had failed in every way possible to be a man. He’d never been able to please his own father. He hadn’t been a good husband and father himself. He’d hurt the people he’d professed to love. Besides that, he wasn’t ignorant of the fact that, with his naturally pessimistic personality, he came off as a regular old sourpuss, whereas Samantha, with seemingly effortless ease and grace, laughed at the world—and more importantly, at herself—and was a better person for it.
/> Though it pained him to admit it, he clearly had a lot to learn from the woman.
Genevieve ran up and tugged on the bottom of his shirt. “Swing me, swing me, Daddy,” she begged, smiling up at him.
Smiling.
That hadn’t happened much in the little girl’s life lately. She hadn’t had much to smile about.
Will’s heart melted right there on the spot. What a beautiful child she was. He could see her mother in her, but what really choked him up was that he could see himself in her, as well. How had such a lovely little thing come from a soul as ugly as his?
“All right, Monkey,” he agreed. “Let’s go swing.” He lifted her into his arms and headed for the swing set. He intended to deposit her into one of the safety swings, the ones with four sides and holes for the legs.
“No, Daddy,” Genevieve protested. “I want to swing on the big-girl swing.”
Will glanced at Samantha, hoping she’d give him some much-needed direction. He didn’t want to make the wrong decision and end up hurting his daughter.
“Yeah. Come on, Dad. The big-girl swing,” Samantha echoed with a laugh.
Will realized that what he’d really wanted was Samantha to back him up on the decision he had already made, not agree with Genevieve. He was loath to admit that he was scared half out of his wits that his daughter would lose her balance and fall to the ground.
If she got hurt, it was all on him.
Both Samantha and Genevieve were looking at him expectantly, waiting for his decision. He didn’t see any way out of it now. He was good and stuck. He set his jaw as he perched Genevieve on the big-girl swing, waiting until she had a good hold on the chains before giving her a gentle push.
“Higher, Daddy. Higher!”
“Honey, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Will responded, once again glancing at Samantha for support, sure that she’d back him up on this one. Genevieve was so little, and the swing so high. It was a long way to fall.
Samantha laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “Don’t you remember when you were a little kid, what a thrill you got from swinging just as high as you could?”