You're Gonna Love Me

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You're Gonna Love Me Page 18

by Robin Lee Hatcher


  But instead of driving straight home, he went into Thunder Creek to Sips and Scentimentals. He didn’t try to pretend that he needed caffeine after the type of afternoon he’d had. He wanted to see Samantha. Needed to see her. Their outing on Sunday had ended badly. Whatever upset her had left her uncommunicative, starting then and continuing throughout the week. He’d done his best to break down the barrier she’d thrown up, without success. He was sick of trying to solve things over the phone and via text messages. He was determined to talk things out today, to tell her how he felt and give her a more thorough understanding of his potential health issues. Then, if she still wanted to push him away or shut him out, fine. He’d have to live with it. But he wasn’t going down without a fight.

  The only customers inside the beverage and gift shop were three teenage girls, one on a tablet and the other two totally engrossed in their smartphones. He glanced toward the gift shop, making note of the changes made since the last time he’d been in. But what he really wanted to do was to walk to the closed office door and knock.

  “What can I get for you, Nick?” Camila called to him.

  “I’ll grab myself one of those bottles of Diet Coke.” He moved toward the refrigerated display.

  “Anything else?”

  “No.” He walked to the counter, pulling his wallet from his pocket on the way.

  Camila rang up the purchase. “She isn’t in the office.”

  “What?”

  “Sam. She isn’t here.”

  Was he that transparent? Apparently so. He tipped his head toward the door that led into the house. “Is she with Ruth?”

  “No. Sam’s in Portland.”

  “Portland?” She hadn’t mentioned it.

  “Yes. Something to do with her job. She might be getting a big promotion, Ruth said.”

  His heart sank. “A promotion. That’s great. Tell her I wish her luck with it.”

  A promotion. Was that why she’d been reticent to talk to him? She hadn’t wanted him to know about a possible promotion? Maybe she’d guessed what he had to tell her, and she’d thought it better not to give him the chance to do so.

  “When will she know if she’s got it?”

  Camila shook her head. “Ruth didn’t say.”

  “How long is she staying in Oregon?”

  “It was a day trip. She gets home tonight.”

  He opened the bottle of soda. “Well, like I said. Give her my best. Ruth too.”

  He left the shop, got into his truck, and drove home. Once there, engine off again, he pulled out his phone, opened the messaging app, and—against his better judgement—began typing:

  Just heard news about promotion. Hoping for best. Have safe trip back to Idaho.

  He stared at the screen for a few moments, then pressed Send. A whooshing sound indicated the text was on its way. He dropped the phone back into his pocket and got out of the truck.

  “Come on, boy,” he said to Boomer. “I need to pack some more boxes. We move next weekend.”

  As if in response to his comment, his phone rang. He hoped it would be a call from Samantha, even though he knew he shouldn’t want it, but a quick glance gave him his answer.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “Hi, Nick. Your mom said I needed to let you know right away what we’ve decided. Instead of shipping the things you have in storage, she and I are going to bring it in a U-Haul. We want to see your new place. Then we’ll fly home after we’ve helped you with your move.”

  “Dad, that’s a lot to ask.”

  “Nonsense. It gives us another excuse for a visit. The wedding was kind of crazy, and we’d like to see more of Thunder Creek than the quick tour we got last month. You won’t mind putting us up for two or three days, will you?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. I am kidding. I know you better than that, son.”

  Nick gripped the phone between ear and shoulder as he unlocked the door to the house. “What day will you arrive? I’ll arrange for you to stay at the Inn at Thunder Creek for a couple of nights. That’ll be better than you sleeping at the new house, and you won’t have to put up with the chaos.”

  “You’ve got a spare bed in storage. We can assemble it and—”

  “No, Dad. You and Mom are going to stay at the inn. You’ll love it there, and you’ll get a good night’s sleep and eat good food too. Neither of those will be available at my place during the move.”

  His dad laughed. “All right, all right. I’m sure your mother will approve of that decision.”

  “Great. When do you expect to arrive?”

  “On Friday evening. We’ll get an early-morning start. Hopefully by four. If we don’t have to make too many stops, we should roll into Thunder Creek no later than eight that night.”

  “That’s a long trip in a miserable truck.”

  “We’ll be fine. If it takes us longer, it takes us longer.”

  “It’ll be good to see you again, Dad.”

  “Same for us. And before you ask, yes, we’ve got lots of help to get the stuff out of storage and into the truck. A bunch of guys from church volunteered to get it done on Thursday.”

  “I’ve got the same kind of volunteers on this end. My friend Derek began organizing help for the move before I could ask anybody myself.”

  “Great. Sounds like it’s all in hand. We’ll let you know when we’re on our way on Friday. Forecast is for sunny and warm. Should be perfect for moving.”

  “I hope so. Thanks again, Dad. Give Mom my love.”

  “Will do. Love you back.”

  After saying good-bye and ending the call, Nick paused long enough to thank God for his parents. Then, Boomer following him from room to room, he set to work filling more boxes.

  Chapter 25

  The only people at Gran’s Sunday dinner were family members. Gran and Samantha, plus Derek, Brooklyn, and Alycia. Others had been invited, but it seemed half the congregation was out of town for the weekend and the other half had plans of their own. Gran did not seem disappointed. If anything, she was pleased with the intimacy of the meal.

  “Sam, tell us what happened in Portland.” Brooklyn passed the platter of pork chops to her left. “I’ve been dying to know, but the inn was so busy yesterday I didn’t have time to think, let alone make a phone call.”

  “It’s great that you’re so busy.”

  Brooklyn laughed. “Don’t prevaricate.”

  “Prevaricate?” Samantha raised her eyebrows.

  “Do I sound pretentious?” Her friend laughed again. “It was the word for the day on my dictionary app. Now, spill about your job.”

  Samantha did as requested, filling in as much detail as she thought necessary about the meetings and the people involved, finishing with, “It sounds as if a promotion will come through within six months of my return to work.”

  “With a healthy raise, I hope,” Derek interjected. “Because even I understand how lucky they are to have you in their employ.”

  She sent a smile of appreciation across the table. “Yes, I’ll get a nice raise when it happens.”

  Unfortunately—and she didn’t mention this part aloud— Daniel would still be her boss. She’d hoped she would move to a new department when a promotion came. That wasn’t going to happen.

  All of a sudden tears pricked the backs of her eyes, and she knew it had nothing to do with Daniel remaining her boss. It was the thought of leaving Thunder Creek—and perhaps the thought of leaving Nick, although she didn’t want to admit that part, not even to herself. Thankfully, in the silence that followed her answer, everyone had turned their attention to their dinner plates. She had enough time to blink away the moisture before anyone looked up again.

  The conversation, when it resumed, moved to other topics. Gran shared Sandra Dooley’s latest wedding plans. Alycia talked about the new filly that had been born to a neighbor’s mare. Derek detailed his plans to expand the greenhouse.

  “Oh,” Brooklyn said whe
n there was a lull, “guess who’s going to stay at the inn this coming weekend.” She didn’t wait for anyone to guess. “Nick Chastain’s parents.”

  Samantha lowered her fork. Nick had texted her on Friday, wishing her well on the promotion. She’d texted back her thanks that evening. But he hadn’t replied again. He certainly hadn’t told her his parents were returning to Thunder Creek. Why not? Didn’t he want her to know?

  If not, it’s your own fault. She cringed at the thought.

  “They’re bringing down the rest of his furniture and whatever else he had in storage in a U-Haul. I think Nick said it was more than a twelve-hour drive. They’re going to be exhausted by the time they pull into town.”

  Derek said, “Nick plans to spend Friday night in his new place so he’ll be ready when the rest of the guys show up on Saturday morning. Shouldn’t take us long to unload the U-Haul and move the rest of his stuff out of the rental.”

  Should she offer to take over food for the men helping Nick?

  Gran had a similar idea. “Sam, we’ll send you over first thing in the morning with hot sticky buns and coffee. And if the men are there through the morning, you can take sandwiches and sodas for lunch. Derek, how many do you expect?”

  “Counting me and Nick, probably six. Maybe eight. Plus his parents.”

  “I suppose the move is why we didn’t see Nick in church this morning,” Gran added.

  Derek shook his head. “No, his boss had him drive down to Salt Lake to pick up some equipment. He left yesterday morning and is driving back today.”

  Again, something Samantha hadn’t known. She felt shut out and wanted to be hurt by it. But what else could she expect? She’d kept Nick at arm’s length ever since he’d rescued that woman from the river, ever since she’d watched him put himself in danger. She’d convinced herself that he was as reckless and careless as ever, and she’d refused to talk with him, even when he’d tried.

  And I was wrong, wasn’t I? I was unfair to him. I didn’t even tell him what I thought. I just shut him out.

  She felt a shudder of shame in her heart and prayed that God would give her a chance to make things right with Nick.

  The sound of tires spinning on the freeway hummed in the truck cab. Boomer sat in the passenger seat, mouth open, tongue hanging out one side. His ears were up, and he wore a look of canine contentment as he watched the passing countryside. The dog didn’t care how long the trip back to Thunder Creek took. He knew how to enjoy the moment.

  Nick didn’t feel the same. He wanted to be home again.

  He wanted to see Samantha again.

  “But she doesn’t want that. So where does that leave me?”

  Boomer looked over at him, smiling that doggy smile of his.

  “Yeah. Some help you are. You never offer advice, even when I need it.”

  A rest stop sign appeared on the side of the freeway. A mile later, Nick pulled off the road and went to a parking space near a designated pet area. He snapped the leash onto Boomer’s collar, and dog and master got out and walked around, Boomer marking bushes and sniffing the ground. When the dog was done, Nick filled a travel bowl with water and watched as Boomer lapped it up.

  “You should be good for another hundred miles.”

  The dog wagged his tail in apparent agreement.

  “We’ll grab a bite in Twin Falls.”

  In another ten minutes, they were back in the truck and on their way. It wasn’t long before Nick’s thoughts returned to Samantha. He wondered if it was for the best that she hadn’t given him the chance to tell her he loved her. Maybe the right thing was for him to remain silent, to not ask her to step into that uncertain future with him.

  “For I know the plans that I have for you,” a voice whispered in his heart. “Plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”

  A future and a hope. With Sam? That’s what he wanted it to mean. Could it? Even now?

  Nick: Stopped in Twin Falls on way back from Salt Lake. Any chance you could meet soon for dinner at the Moonlight?

  I’d like to talk.

  Samantha: When?

  Nick: Monday or Thursday would work best for me.

  Samantha: Can’t Monday. Let’s make it Thursday.

  Nick: Thursday great. 6:00?

  Samantha: Yes. Meet you there.

  Feeling the coward, Nick dropped the phone into his pocket. He could have called her instead of texting. Maybe he should have driven over to see her in person when he got back tonight. But he wasn’t ready yet. He needed time to pray about all that he wanted to say to her, and he needed assurance that he wasn’t reading his own feelings into what he thought God was telling him.

  Please, God. Don’t let me blow it. Help me do and say the right thing.

  Chapter 26

  Samantha looked at the calendar on her computer screen and counted out the weeks of her remaining leave. Eight more. But Gran had insisted that, once she was out of the boot and into the splint, she could manage on her own. Staying while Gran was in physical therapy wasn’t required.

  “Not that I want you to leave, Sam,” Gran had told her. “If I could, I would keep you here for good.”

  Stay for good. The words stirred a longing in her heart that wasn’t wise.

  She gave her head a slow shake, then clicked on Thursday in the calendar application and looked at the dinner appointment with Nick. Six o’clock at the Moonlight. Was it wise to meet and talk? Or was it foolish? Once she returned to Oregon, her life would go back to normal. And normal was good. Wasn’t it?

  Not necessarily. At least she hadn’t thought so when she first came to stay with Gran. Was a promotion enough to change those old feelings?

  “Knock-knock.”

  Samantha turned toward Camila.

  “There’s someone here to see you. About some books you ordered.”

  Thankful for the distraction, she said, “Sure. I’m coming.”

  Out in the gift shop, she saw a tall man, his back to her, looking over the bookshelves. No one else was in the gift area, so she had to assume this was Camila’s “someone.”

  “Hello,” she said.

  He turned to face her, and something about him seemed familiar. Had they met before?

  “I’m Samantha. How may I help you?”

  His friendly smile made his handsome features even more so. “Aaron McNulty.” He offered his right hand.

  No wonder he seemed familiar to her. She’d seen that face on the backs of his novels for years. “What a pleasure, Mr. McNulty. I love your books.” She shook his hand while hoping she hadn’t gushed or come across like a crazed fan, à la the one in Misery.

  “Aaron, please.”

  “Aaron,” she echoed. After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “This is so unexpected.”

  “Sorry. Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “As I understand from my publisher, you requested a book signing when you placed an order for my books, and they got word to me. Since I was driving to Nevada and Thunder Creek isn’t much out of the way, I thought I would drop in to see you in person.” His gaze swept the gift shop, stopping on the eye-level shelf. “I didn’t expect to see a display of so many of my titles in a coffee and gift shop.”

  “You are quite an Idaho celebrity.” Thankfully, she stopped herself from reeling off some of the details she knew about him. Where he lived. How old he was. His major book awards. Even the names of his two dogs.

  He chuckled. “It’s kind of you to say so.”

  But it wasn’t kindness. It was a fact.

  “Well”—another quick glance around the shop—“let my publicist know when you want to have that book signing.” He held out a business card. “If my schedule allows for it, I’d be happy to oblige.”

  “You would?” She took the card.

  “Yes, I would. And it was a pleasure meeting you, Samantha.”

  Her pulse raced. “Sam.”

  �
�Sam.” There was that smile again.

  “May I get you something to drink to go?” she asked hurriedly.

  “Yes, thank you. That would be great.”

  A short while later, Samantha watched as Aaron McNulty exited Sips and Scentimentals, an iced coffee in one hand. As the door closed, she released a held breath and sank against the counter at her back.

  “What’s come over you, Sam?” Camila asked.

  “Didn’t you hear who that was?”

  Camila shook her head.

  “Aaron McNulty. The author.” She motioned toward the bookshelves. “We sell his books now.”

  “Oh.” The woman was completely unimpressed.

  It was clear she wasn’t going to get the desired response from Camila, but she knew who would give it to her. “I’ve got to tell Gran.” And with that, she hurried into the house.

  As expected, Gran—a lover of books, like Samantha— responded with excitement. “But, Sam, that’s amazing! In our little shop. Right here in Thunder Creek. I never imagined such a thing could happen.” Her smile disappeared. “Does he charge for the appearance?”

  “He didn’t say so, and I didn’t think to ask.” She glanced down at the business card. “Should I call the publicist?”

  “Yes, I think you should. Strike while the iron is hot, your grandfather always said. Besides, you’ll want to arrange for the signing before you return to Oregon. Otherwise you would have to fly back for the event. I’m surely not going to want to handle all the arrangements. This is your brainchild.”

  Some of her excitement drained away at the reminder that she didn’t plan to be in Thunder Creek much longer.

  His work finished for the day, Nick stopped by the Johnson farm. Derek had offered the use of boxes he had in a storage shed. Brooklyn was seated on the back porch.

  “Come join me,” she called to Nick as she held up a glass. “Derek will be back soon.”

  “Love to.” He gave a command to Boomer, who hopped out of the truck and made a beeline for Miss Trouble.

 

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