by Loree Lough
“Honey pie!” interrupted a deep Texas drawl.
Bryce watched in amazement as his aunt was swallowed up in the arms of the biggest, broadest cowboy he’d ever seen. Honey pie? Hopefully Olive would come up for air soon and introduce him to this bear of a man.
“Duke,” she said, “I’d like you to meet my nephew. Bryce, this is Duke.”
The gray-haired fellow kept one arm around her and held out a beefy hand. “Proud to make your acquaintance, m’boy,” he said, pumping Bryce’s arm. “I’ve heard a lot about you—all of it good, I might add.” He popped a quick kiss to Olive’s cheek. “Told him the good news yet, honey pie?”
Was Olive…was his aunt blushing? Bryce tried to think of another time he’d seen her cheeks pink up that way, but he couldn’t.
“I was hoping to make the announcement during supper, sweetums.”
Sweetums? What in the world was going on here? He’d been home for almost two months, so why hadn’t he heard about honey pie and sweetums before now? Bryce realized suddenly that Olive and Sam had been spending a lot of time together in the shop. Maybe she’d know something about it. “Coffee, anyone?”
“Don’t mind if I do, son.” Duke dropped a heavy hand on Bryce’s shoulder. “Make mine high test—strong and black. Honey pie?”
Olive shook her head. “No, no, but thanks. Already had my quota for the day.”
“Back in a minute,” Bryce said, and as he ambled toward the snack table, Sam fidgeted with her apron strings. “Two coffees, caffeinated, no cream, no sugar.”
“Who’s the dude in the ten-gallon hat?” Sam asked, smirking.
Bryce cast a quick glance toward where he’d left his aunt. “Some guy named Duke,” he said, “and I take it he and Olive are more than friends.”
“So that’s her mysterious cowboy!”
“You knew about him?”
“Sort of. Not really.”
“What’s that mean?”
She met his gaze. “Olive has something to tell you at supper.”
Over the years he’d stared down enough stammering, guilty-faced recruits returning late from leave to recognize a flimsy excuse when he heard one. While he hadn’t condoned the soldiers’ behavior, Bryce had at least understood that most times, it had been rooted in inexperience. What possible reason could Sam have for her careful, evasive responses? “Been awhile since Olive cooked a family meal,” he said, “so I have to wonder what’s—”
“So,” boomed the cowboy, “my sweet Olive tells me you’re blind in one eye.” Duke rested a palm on Bryce’s shoulder. “Says you’re a hero, through and through, and by all that’s holy, I agree.” He grabbed Bryce’s hand. “Thank you, son. Thank you for your sacrifice.”
Bryce felt the heat of embarrassment on his face. It hadn’t been the first time he’d heard similar sentiments, and it no doubt wouldn’t be the last. He’d never understood what all the fuss was about, since he hadn’t done anything while in uniform that hundreds of thousands of other soldiers hadn’t already done. The call to duty had been loud and demanding, and answering it had been an honor and a privilege. Bryce didn’t know which was worse—people’s reaction to his eye patch…or their praise.
“What this country needs,” Duke continued, releasing Bryce’s hand, “are more red-blooded Americans like you. So really, son, thank you,” he repeated.
The last thing Bryce wanted was to appear ungrateful or disrespectful. Because on one hand, it felt good hearing that the folks back home appreciated his dedication to duty. On the other, their gratitude awakened guilt borne in the knowledge that if he’d done something different on one particular day in battle, the young solder in his charge might have gone home to his parents. “I was one of the lucky ones,” he confessed, “able to come home, safe and sound.” Staring at his shoes, he added, “Too many others came back in bad shape…if they came home at all.”
When he looked up, Bryce saw Sam watching him through glittering tears. He couldn’t help but be touched—until an unpleasant thought flitted through his head. Oh, Lord, he prayed silently, don’t let pity be the reason she likes me….
He was relieved when Duke changed the subject. “Your beautiful aunt sent me over here to remind you not to be late for supper.” Duke turned to Sam and added, “And she said to tell you that if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get him there on time.” He chucked her chin. “You sing like a nightingale, by the way, young lady.” After sending her a playful wink, he faced Bryce again. “Maybe someday you and I will sit down and talk gerbil launchers and other pucker factors.”
Only if he’d served in the military would Duke know the nicknames for M203 grenade launchers and tight combat situations. Bryce’s mood brightened at the possibility. “Marine?” he asked.
“Ooh-rah,” Duke said, standing at attention, but before Bryce could return his snappy salute, the man had turned and headed for the rear doors, where Olive stood giggling with two of her Ladies Auxiliary friends.
“He’s quite the handsome charmer, isn’t he?” Sam said when Duke was out of earshot.
Bryce chuckled. “Not bad for an old salt.” He pocketed his hands. “Should I be jealous?” The instant the words were out of his mouth Bryce regretted them, because a question like that could have but one meaning: he had feelings for her. “Just kidding, of course,” he said, but even Bryce knew his laugh was way too loud for a joke that small. “Maybe it’s Olive who should be jealous.”
“That man,” she said, “is crazy about your aunt. She doesn’t have a thing to worry about!”
Whew, Bryce thought. Maybe his enormous guffaw wasn’t over the top, after all.
No sooner did he have the thought than Sam tilted her head and batted her eyes. “And neither do you.”
Bryce had no idea how to respond…to her words or her behavior. He’d just made a mental list of all the reasons he was all wrong for her. So why had he reacted to her sweet flirtation with hot ears and damp palms? Maybe, he told himself, because you’re falling for her, whether it is good for her or not.
And it most decidedly was not.
Like his aunt, Bryce prided himself on being a person who chose to do the right thing, even when it was tough. Admittedly, it wouldn’t be easy, putting a safe distance between himself and Sam. But what choice did he have…if he hoped to do the right thing?
Chapter Ten
Sam had spent so much time serving others at the Sunday Tea snack table that she hadn’t taken time to eat, herself, so by the time she got home from church, her stomach was growling like a polar bear. She popped a store-bought pizza-for-one into the oven and set the timer. As she clipped the tiny digital timer to her collar—to ensure she wouldn’t forget about the pizza—she acknowledged that it hadn’t been all that difficult to dot the i’s and cross the t’s recently…and prevent another volley of complaints from Bryce.
She headed to her bedroom to change. No sooner had she swapped her red dress for fuzzy camo pants than the phone rang. One glance at the caller ID inspired a happy squeal as she punched the TALK button.
“Billy!” she said. “What a nice surprise!”
“How’re things, little sister?”
It felt good to truthfully say, “Things are great! And how are you?”
“My biggest gripe in life is, only a couple weeks’ vacation left before school starts again.”
Sam began her usual phone pace around the coffee table. “Will you coach junior varsity basketball again next year?”
“Absolutely. I’d rather quit teaching altogether than give that up.” He paused. “So you’re really okay out there?”
“Sure! Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason…”
But Sam sensed that dozens of reasons and reservations probably flitted in his head, and his doubts made her all the more determined to succeed here in Alaska. “So how’s the family? Mom still pestering you to get married, give her a couple of sticky grandkids?”
Bill groaned good-naturedly. �
��Does the Easter Bunny hop?”
Why did she get the feeling he was keeping something from her? She’d long ago grown accustomed to her brothers and parents doling out unsolicited advice. After years of “you ought to” and “you shouldn’t have,” Sam learned that any attempt to defend her choices and opinions only invited more so-called guidance. Their insights occasionally roused feelings of resentment, but prayer helped her understand that every word had roots in loving concern and the best intentions for her happiness.
“All right,” she said, “let me have it before you blow a gasket.”
“Uh—”
“Whatever it is you’re dying to say but haven’t yet, just spit it out.”
Another chuckle and then, “How would you feel about having some company?”
The question stopped Sam in her tracks. She’d expected him to rattle off a how-to list for staying warm and safe in her new state. “You want to come to Alaska?”
She’d spoken to her parents a dozen times since arriving in North Pole, and most days, she sent or received e-mail messages from one or all of her brothers. But Sam hadn’t yet told any of them how her job at the hotel had fallen through. Not even Bill, her closest brother and confidant. If he seriously intended to visit, she’d have to fess up….
“Think you can put up with your big oaf of a brother for a couple weeks?”
“Of course! I’d love to see you!”
“Cool. So…think you can wrangle me a discount on a room at that hotel where you work?”
Sam flopped onto the sofa and took a deep breath. Wasn’t it Mark Twain who’d advised not to put off until tomorrow what you can do the day after tomorrow? But she’d used up her put-offs. “Billy,” she began, “can you keep a secret?”
“From who?”
Sam resisted the urge to say “whom,” because he was the teacher—and because she needed his support right now. “From Mom and Dad and all the boys.”
“Uh-oh. You sure I wanna hear this?”
“It’s no big deal, really. But before I tell you, you’ve got to promise you’ll keep it to yourself.”
“Okay. I promise.”
“Are your fingers crossed behind your back?”
“Gimme a little credit!” A mischievous chuckle punctuated his remark. “I outgrew that years ago.”
She heard the smile in his voice and relaxed. A little. “Remember that chef’s job I came here for?”
“Of course. We all thought you were out of your ever-lovin’ mind. Some of us still think that…”
Sam ignored the obvious reference to the family’s belief that she’d fail. “Well, the day I showed up for work, the hotel manager informed me that the owner had given the job to his nephew.”
“What? That’s just crazy!” Bill hesitated then added, “And I’m pretty sure it’s illegal, too. I hope you threatened to sue them for every cheap nailed-down lamp in the place!”
“How like you to get your neck hairs bristling in my defense,” she said, giggling. “But honestly, everything turned out great. I found another job that pays the same salary and comes with a fully furnished apartment. I love this place, and I really, really like the work, too.”
She hoped she hadn’t sounded too enthused tacking on that extra “really.”
“Doing what?”
Every muscle tightened as she considered what her parents would say if they heard she’d used her college degree to sell crafts in a gift shop. “You promise this is just between us, right?”
“I give you my word. If this was a video conference, you’d see me standing here with my hand raised in the Boy Scout salute.”
“Which hand?” she asked, grinning.
“Sam, if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’ll sic Mom on—”
“I’m managing an adorable little gift shop, and it’s such fun it almost doesn’t seem like work at all. Everybody here is wonderful, from the people who live in North Pole to the tourists who come in, and—”
“Now I see why you made me promise to keep my big mouth shut. If Dad finds out you’re a lowly sales clerk, he’ll flip his lid!”
“I hate to sound disrespectful, but Dad needs to get over himself. There’s no shame in working as a sales clerk. I clocked plenty of hours at Wal-Mart while I was in high school, and I didn’t hear him complaining when all my other ‘lowly sales clerk’ jobs paid for most of my college tuition. It’s an honest way to earn a living.”
The silence on the other end of the phone told Sam that Bill was likely getting ready to tell her a couple of things—supposedly for her own good. Before he could, she added, “Besides, I’ll have you know this job comes with a ton of responsibility. All the management stuff I learned in school is coming in handy. So when you tattle on me to Dad, you be sure to tell him that.”
“I’m not going to tell Dad or anybody else, kiddo. You can count on me. Honest.”
“Really?”
“Really. So my baby sister is the boss of things, is she?”
“You could say that.” Technically, Bryce was the boss. And until Olive left, his aunt outranked Sam, too. But Bill would find that out soon enough. “So when can you be here?”
“I’ll have to let you know. Soon as I can get reservations.”
“Super! And I have a sofa bed in the living room, so you won’t need a hotel room…”
“You’re sure I’m not putting you out?”
“Are you kidding? It’ll be great having you all to myself for a couple of weeks. Like the old days, when you’d take me fishing and dole out advice about boys.”
“Yeah, those were the days all right,” he said. “So is it true what they say about Alaska—that there are a million guys for every girl?”
“Men outnumber women, that’s true,” she answered, laughing, “but the odds aren’t anywhere near that good.”
“Good, ’cause if any of them come sniffin’ around my little sister, they’ll have me to answer to.”
She thought of Dan Brooks asking her to have dinner with him…in Paris. Didn’t the guy realize how inappropriate an invitation like that was, or that if word of the invitation had gotten out, every tongue in North Pole would have wagged for weeks? “Aren’t we all lucky, then, that nobody is sniffin’?”
“What? Pretty little thing like you? I would’ve bet you’re exhausted from beating ’em off with sticks. And I’m not just saying that because I’m your big brother, either.”
“When you get here, I’ll give you a big hug just for saying that. I hope it’ll be soon…”
“I’ll make some phone calls in the morning, let you know what I find out. You sure you’re okay with having me underfoot for ten days?”
Of everyone in her family, Bill had always been the type who liked going places and doing things all by himself. It’s what had inspired him to enlist in the army and sign up for a tour of duty in Iraq. No way she’d have to worry about how he’d entertain himself while she worked. “I’ll ask around, get a list together of things you can do while I’m at the shop.”
“Okey doke. Soon as I have an itinerary, I’ll give you a holler.”
“Good idea. That way I’ll know when to pick you up at the Fairbanks airport.”
“Uh, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather rent a car so I won’t have to borrow yours.” He chuckled. “Oh, wait. I forgot. You sold yours.” Then, “What are you driving around town? Surely not that big clumsy RV you bought before you left home…”
“You’ll be happy to know I don’t need a car. My apartment is right upstairs from the shop.”
“So how do you buy groceries and get to the dentist’s and stuff like that?”
“Everything I need is within walking distance.” A fact—for now. Once winter set in, she’d be in a pickle for sure if she couldn’t find a dependable vehicle, because she’d never survive schlepping around town in subzero temperatures and knee-deep snow. But Bill didn’t need to know that.
“Talk to you tomorrow, kiddo.”
; “Okay, and remember…let me be the one to tell the rest of the family about this job situation, okay?”
“When have you ever known me not to keep my word?”
She could think of dozens of instances when he’d tattled on her—after promising not to—but if Sam hoped to keep him on her side, they’d have to remain safely in the past. “I’ll say a bunch of prayers that you’ll get a reservation for day after tomorrow…and have a safe flight…and find the perfect car at the rental counter.” As much as she loved North Pole, it didn’t feel quite like home yet, and the prospect of having her brother around for nearly two weeks took control. “I can’t wait to see you, Billy!” she blurted.
“I love you, too.”
The timer beeped, as if to punctuate their goodbyes, and Sam half-ran, half-skipped to take her pizza out of the oven.
After finishing her pizza, Sam rifled through her closet in search of something to wear to dinner at Olive’s. Half an hour later, she decided on a denim skirt and pale pink blouse, partnered with dangly earrings. Though she’d never been into rings or bracelets, Sam more than made up for it with an extensive collection of necklaces. The silver one resembled the earrings enough to look like a set. She wondered what Bryce would wear tonight. Maybe that white, Western-styled shirt he’d had on when he joined her and Dan at breakfast…the one that showed off his big, broad shoulders and accented his trim, flat stomach…
What would he look like, she mused, if he’d let his dark hair grow out just a little? Would it be straight and shiny, like Bill’s? Or thick and curly, like her own?
The question made her picture Tom Selleck, who in his fifties was even more handsome than he’d been at Bryce’s age. Sam figured Bryce was the kind of man who’d age gracefully, just like Tom, and a tiny portion of her heart hoped she’d be around to see for herself.
“Oh, good grief,” she said, aiming for the shower. “Where on earth did that notion come from?” Sam decided to distract herself with the delectable aroma of peaches and cream shampoo, because if she allowed nonsense like that to pop into her head, only the Lord knew what silly thing she might say later at Olive’s!