The Soldier's Sweetheart

by Deb Kastner

  Where was his head? Why could he not keep his emotional distance from this woman, no matter how hard he tried?

  Here they were, ready to go into the legal battle of their lifetimes, a battle that would mean all the difference in the world not only to Samantha personally but to all the Howells and to him and Genevieve, as well. This was the time for him to be putting on his mental armor, gearing up for the fight ahead, not ruminating over his sudden penchant for Texas wildflowers.

  “I’m not sure exactly how we should expect this meeting to go,” Samantha told her family, who’d all gathered in the living room. “I’ve only been to a couple of town council meetings, and they weren’t about such touchy subjects or burning issues. I think the last one I attended had to do with building an official preschool in Serendipity.”

  “I’ve been to a few,” Samuel remarked. “They’re basic at the core, run pretty much like a board meeting at a business—Robert’s Rules and all that.”

  Grandpa Sampson snorted. “Like any of us have the first notion about Robert and his blooming set of rules.”

  “It’s just to keep order, Grandpa,” Amanda said soothingly. “No need to get all het up about something we can’t control. Anyway, I imagine it’s probably not so formal as all that.”

  “Well, I still say they didn’t give us enough time to prepare. Them corporate fools have been working on this a long time, and I’ll bet they know Robert’s Rules.”

  “The council is only required to give us three days notice,” Samuel said. “And they gave us five. So we’ve nothing to complain about.”

  That wasn’t exactly true, Will thought as he watched Samantha grimace. Had she been honest from the get-go and brought the situation with Stay-n-Shop to the family from the very first, they would have had much more time to prepare a case as a group. He knew what she was thinking. She was blaming herself. She was thinking that if anything, she was the one guilty of springing this on them.

  Obviously, she’d never intended for the matter to go this far. He was certain that if she’d known Stay-n-Shop wouldn’t take a simple no for an answer, she would have shared her problems with her family right away.

  As it stood now, well, it was what it was.

  “Why don’t we focus on what we do know,” Amanda suggested gravely.

  “Right.” Samantha jumped in, clearly seeing this as an opportunity to move the conversation forward. They didn’t have much time before the meeting started, and they needed to talk last-minute strategy. “There are currently eight commissioners on the board. Most if not all of them are either small businesspeople who own a shop somewhere on Main Street or are kin to those who do.”

  “Which means, theoretically, there could be a tie vote,” Will said, surprised by this new information. “Has this happened often?”

  “Not often, no,” answered Samuel grimly. “But it has occurred occasionally, usually in the higher-profile cases. In some cases, they’ve argued for a week of Sundays before coming to an agreement on an issue. On rare occasions, they’ve hung themselves out to dry.”

  “So what you’re saying, then, is that we need to win five commissioners to our side,” Will said.

  “Yes. Precisely. That shouldn’t be so hard. Should it?” Amanda started her sentence firmly, but by the time she tacked on the ending, she didn’t sound quite so certain of herself.

  “Stay-n-Shop is slated to present their case first,” Samantha informed them. “I’m expecting them to come in ready to impress, with algorithms, statistics, presentation software and who knows what else.”

  “Which could work against them,” Will pointed out.

  Samantha met his gaze with a grateful look. “Exactly what I’m hoping will happen. Folks around here, the town council members included, might not take to all the fancy show of equipment and ideas. Perhaps they’ll be more open to our simple plea, our show of integrity over industry.”

  “So they do their blabbing, and then Samantha, you give them the petitions with all the signatures on it and set them down the right path,” her father said.

  Samantha sighed. “I don’t mind working with folks when I’m behind the counter at the grocery,” she said. “It’s easy for me to be outgoing when I’m serving people. And I know I have a reputation as a Little Chick,” she continued, scoffing and shaking her head. “But in truth, public speaking is so not my thing. I’m scared out of my gourd right now.”

  Will reached for her hand, feeling her fingers quivering under his. He wished with all his heart he could take her place, or at least take away her nerves, but this was one battle she had to captain on her own.

  “You’re going to do great, honey,” he murmured. “True courage isn’t not being afraid. It’s facing your fear and going forward anyway. And don’t forget, the Lord will be with you every step of the way.”

  Her gaze flew once again to his, her eyes wide with surprise. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

  He realized after he’d said the words that that was probably not the best advice, at least not from him. He didn’t want to give her any kind of hope that he was coming around to view the world as she did. He knew she was praying for him, that he’d become a Christian, but he still didn’t know where he stood with God. Certainly they weren’t in good standing with each other. But he’d reminded her of the Lord because he knew it would help her, and ultimately, he supposed that was all that really mattered.

  The Howells also looked grateful for Will’s timely reminder.

  “Will is right. We should pray,” Samuel suggested, “and ask the Holy Spirit’s covering over us as we march in to face our enemy tonight.”

  Will was already holding Samantha’s hand. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to thread his fingers through hers as they gathered in a circle to pray. Will bowed his head and closed his eyes with the rest of them, but his prayer was a little different than theirs.

  Where Samuel prayed for peace and wisdom for the members of the town council, Will hoped Samantha would be persistent, no matter what the council’s immediate impressions might be, what kind of day they might have had or what they might have consumed for breakfast. It seemed to Will that there were too many variables to lay anything as serious as this at the feet of eight different people. Better to focus their prayers on Samantha.

  Samuel prayed for the grace for Samantha to find the right words, and Will hoped she’d be able to find the strength to speak so convincingly and forcefully that no one on that tiny country board had any niggling doubt of what the right decision was.

  And hopefully, that would be the end of story. Happily ever after, at least for Samantha and the Howells.

  He was a new man since arriving in Serendipity. Samantha had shown him his own strength and given him courage when he’d thought he had none. She made him experience emotions he hadn’t even believed existed.

  For him, this was only the beginning.

  * * *

  Samantha was shaking so hard her teeth were chattering against each other. She inhaled deeply through her nose, willing herself to calm down, although she didn’t know how she was going to do that when every nerve ending in her body was screaming. The muscles in her neck and shoulders were so tight she could hardly turn her head to look at Will, who was beside her, his arm loosely draped around her shoulders as they stood outside the door to the Grange hall.

  He smiled his encouragement and used his fingers to massage away some of the tension at her nape. She wondered if he could feel how tightly she was wound up or if it was just that he could see the sheer panic in her eyes. If he could see it, so could the rest of the world.

  “Ready?” he whispered, leaning close to her ear.

  “Not really,” she said, chuckling without humor at her lame attempt at a joke. “I wish I could blink and make all this just go away.”

  “Me, too,
honey. Me, too. But I’ve learned that sometimes the only way to get to the other side of something is to just muck it up and go through it. I think tonight calls for some major mucking.”

  “Well, I ought to be pretty good at that. I spent most of my summers visiting friends on their farms. I’ve mucked my share of stalls.”

  Will nodded and kissed her temple. “Then go to it.” He gestured toward the parking lot, which was full of trucks and cars, mostly of the working variety. “Seems to me that half the town’s already here, and every one of us has got your back.”

  “I know you do.” She couldn’t quite shake the sense of guilt that hovered over her like a storm cloud. If she hadn’t been so proud and arrogant and believed she could handle Stay-n-Shop all on her own, things might never have escalated to this point in the first place.

  Now it was time for her to fix what she’d broken. Despite everything, her family still believed in her and supported her. She desperately wanted to regain their trust. It went without saying that to do that, she needed to secure the future of Sam’s Grocery.

  Will was right. It was time for her to buckle up and settle this. It wasn’t going to go away on its own, not with all the praying and hoping in the world. For whatever reason, God had her right here, right now, facing this particular giant, this threat to her whole way of life. She just hoped that she’d quickly learn whatever lesson it was He was trying to teach her so she could score a victory for Sam’s Grocery and her family. And for Will and Genevieve.

  “Here goes nothing,” she muttered as she pushed the door open.

  Up until that moment, Samantha had been aware of the low but distinct murmuring of the crowd inside the little Grange hall. But at the sound of the door opening, every head turned to face her and talking instantly ceased. With chairs set up in rows like the pews in a church, she felt like a bride at her wedding, except it was all the nerves without any of the joy.

  She knew all these people. The ironic thing was that they were the folks she would invite to her wedding. Alexis and Mary were sitting in the second row on the right. When the time came, those two women would be her maids of honor—both of them—and she was grateful for their support now.

  If only this was a happy occasion.

  What was it Will had said? That courage wasn’t lack of fear, but knowing fear and acting anyway?

  At least she had Will at her side. As she walked up the aisle in what she hoped looked like a confident manner, she continued to breathe in and out through her nose, slowly, methodically. If she held her breath, which was what she tended to do when she was nervous, she would pass out. If she breathed too quickly, she would hyperventilate and then pass out. So the only way she was going to stay cognizant, never mind focused, was to carefully monitor the air coming in and out of her lungs.

  As she expected, a gaggle of Stay-n-Shop legal representatives were clustered near the front. Cal Turner, with his stylish suit and confident demeanor, was among them, though he didn’t immediately glance in their direction. The other legal experts had paused briefly when Samantha and her family had entered, but now they were huddled together around a rectangular folding table on the left, covered with notes and laptops, presumably discussing strategy for the upcoming meeting. A similar table, devoid of anything, had been set up on the right for her and her family. She and Will slid into the chairs behind the table, while her family filed into the first row behind them.

  Samantha looked down at the single file clutched in her hand. Even if she spread out every single page of the petition, it wouldn’t even cover half of the tabletop. And she didn’t even own a laptop, other than the one that belonged to the grocery. Now, however, she wished she’d had the foresight to grab it from the office. It didn’t have any notes or anything on it, of course, much less a fancy presentation to share, but at least it would have looked nice and official on the bare table. This wasn’t a formal courtroom, but it certainly felt like one.

  Carefully avoiding the competition, her gaze swept across to the very front of the room, where, upon a small stage, the town council members sat, facing the house full of people. Samantha scanned the faces, all of them familiar to her, including old Frank Spencer—Jo’s husband—the man officially presiding over the night’s events.

  Those sitting on the council flashed Samantha friendly smiles and her nerves settled. These were her people. Many of their kin had signed one of the petitions Samantha was holding in her hand. Surely they would bring a swift and satisfactory conclusion to this muddle created by a big-box store that had no business in a small country town.

  But what if they didn’t? Who could say what the outcome might be?

  Samantha once again focused on her breath and reminded herself that ultimately it was God overseeing this assembly. In His mercy, He knew what was best for her, and for Sam’s Grocery. She just had to trust in that.

  Frank Spencer banged his gavel—which was nothing more than a regular hammer probably taken from his tool box at home—three times against the surface of the table, and waited for the ruckus to die down.

  “I’m suspecting that this here is going to be a long meetin’, so let’s just set our policies straight from the get-go,” he said. “Number one, I’m the one who was elected president of the town council, and that means I’m in charge, so you don’t get to do no talkin’ unless I’ve cleared you to.”

  So much for Robert’s Rules of Order, Samantha thought, allowing herself the tiniest of smiles. More like Frank’s Rules. She’d known old Frank Spencer her entire life. He was a cantankerous old goat, but he had a good heart, and he’d keep the slick corporate guys from getting too high on their horses.

  “Second,” Frank continued, “there will be no outbursts from the peanut gallery.” He gestured to the people in the house. “That means you, folks. No cheering, booing, clapping or anything else. Got it?”

  Samantha glanced back to see several people nod and murmur, but the room fell to complete silence when Frank narrowed his gaze and pointed his hammer toward them.

  “Third, this meetin’ will be held in an orderly fashion. First, y’all from the city get to state your case. Then,” he said with a brief nod toward Samantha, “it’ll be your turn to go. After that,” he continued, waving his hammer in another authoritative gesture toward the house, “I’ll give you folk a few minutes to voice your opinions for this council to consider.”

  When it remained so silent they could hear a coyote howling in the distance, Frank flashed a self-satisfied grin. “Now then, I’m going to introduce the council members one by one and allow them the chance to introduce themselves to you.”

  Samantha really didn’t see the point in that. It wasn’t like the townspeople didn’t know the eight folks sitting behind the bench. She supposed it was done for the sake of the Stay-n-Shop lawyers, or maybe it was only for show. Either way, Samantha took a moment to compose her thoughts, as ready and as prepared as she could be for whatever Stay-n-Shop would throw at her. Her family was seated in the first row of chairs behind her, but Will, seated in the chair next to her, reached for her hand under the table and gave it a brief squeeze.

  “Go ahead when you’re ready,” Frank said to the corporate lawyers as soon as introductions were complete.

  Samantha shifted her attention to Cal Turner as he rose with a flourish and began to speak.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, directing his first remarks to the town council.

  To Samantha, he sounded very much like a ringmaster at the circus. She half expected him to add boys and girls to the start of his speech. Welcome to the greatest fiasco on earth! All he needed was a top hat. She wanted to scoff. Instead, she clasped her hands together on her lap and dug her fingernails into her skin, concentrating on the pain in order to help her keep her mouth shut. She reminded herself that she’d have her turn soon.

  “In consideration of all th
e folks here tonight,” the lawyer continued, turning to address his first remarks to the house full of townspeople, “we’ll keep our remarks brief and to the point. I know you all have families to go home to, and that is exactly why we’re here. We at Stay-n-Shop know that you treasure your families deeply, and we’re here to make a difference in all your lives.”

  There was an answering murmur, to which Frank put an immediate stop by threatening to pound his gavel.

  “We here at Stay-n-Shop put family first. We promise you the deepest discount on the biggest variety of fresh, frozen and general-use products in the grand state of Texas.”

  Samantha had positioned her chair so that she might be able to see the reactions of at least some of the house, and met the gaze of Edward Emerson, who owned the hardware store. Selling general-use items would cut into Ed’s business, as well. He scowled and shook his head. He wasn’t any happier hearing about this than she was, and it was probably the first time he’d been fully informed.

  She recognized her own failing once again of putting her pride over the genuine needs of others. She was certain she’d be hearing from Ed, and maybe others who ran businesses on Main Street, about her appalling lack of communication. Come to think of it, she was surprised she hadn’t already.

  She had expected the corporate lawyers to play the family card, but not as their leading argument. If they knew the town as well as their statistics said they did, they would know that “family and faith” ought to be their final and most significant argument. In half a minute, Cal Turner had ticked off all the reasoning Samantha had anticipated from him. At this rate, he’d have nothing left to say in a couple of minutes.

  As it turned out, though, that wasn’t even remotely close to the truth. She should have figured that Cal Turner would milk every statement into a variety of subpoints, and then back up each and every one of them with colorful graphs, charts and other relevant data. Samantha had to admit that their analysts had done an impressive job serving up statistics on how Stay-n-Shop had positively affected the economies of those country communities where they’d built new stores. Not only did they offer discounts, but perhaps more importantly, they provided jobs, which were valuable commodities in any small town.