by Amy Woods
He wanted desperately to feel her skin against his, to wrap his mouth around her lips, and give in to the hunger that was building up inside.
His fist balled at his sides. He would not touch her and set off events he might be unable to stop—he wouldn’t. Not when he was so close to finding out what had happened to his beautiful daughter. Whatever it was would be unforgivable to him, and he wished that it didn’t have anything to do with Lucy.
“Lucy,” he said. “What happened?”
She turned to face him suddenly, her expression full of new suspicion. “Why is this so important to you?” she asked, sending Sam’s heart straight into his gut.
How could he answer such a question without giving himself away? Maybe he should just go ahead and tell her who he was. But...how could he, after hearing how angry she had been when she’d found out that Shiloh’s father supposedly wanted nothing to do with her? He had a new challenge now, convincing Lucy that what her sister told her about the mystery man was as far from the truth as it could be. He would have to work twice as hard to prove himself to her. And there was no longer a question of whether proving himself mattered. He was beginning to care about Lucy as much as he did his own daughter. The two of them were entwined with or without him, and he was the one who had everything to lose.
It was more than that, though, wasn’t it? Lucy mattered to him independent of his daughter. The realization struck him like a jolt of electricity, and he quickly tossed it aside before it threatened to take over. There were more pressing issues to deal with at the moment. He didn’t have time for...whatever that was. For now he would just have to be honest with her and hope it was enough.
“It just is,” he said, praying she would accept his lack of an explanation.
Her eyes narrowed and she scrutinized his features. He silently thanked the stars when she opened her mouth again.
“What happened to Shiloh was because of Jennifer. There was a terrible accident.”
She turned away from him again, and he resisted the urge to put his hands on her shoulders and force her to face him. He wanted to make sure that she didn’t hold anything back. He wanted to see her eyes, to know that what she told him was the whole truth rather than a version invented to keep him from feeling pain. He deserved to feel pain. Even if what happened to his daughter wasn’t directly his fault, he should have been there. He should have been there to protect her.
“Jennifer was off her meds,” Lucy continued, her voice breaking slightly before she cleared her throat and found her strength again. “Jennifer had come into town to visit Shiloh for a couple of weeks when Shiloh was about seven, and one night she went out drinking. She came home completely wasted and we got into a fight. I yelled at her, told her she was irresponsible—” Lucy put a hand to her forehead. “I told her she was a bad mother, and all sorts of other horrible things that I shouldn’t have said. She went into her old room and slammed the door. I could hear her in there, crying, and I was worried about her, but she’d locked me out. I stood outside for the longest time, just to make sure she didn’t do anything...harmful. When I thought Jen had fallen asleep I checked on Shiloh and everything was normal, so I went to bed.”
Lucy’s head lowered and Sam couldn’t see her face—only the vulnerable, milky skin on the back of her neck. “I must’ve been so tired...in such a deep sleep, because I didn’t hear them until the car started. Jennifer had grabbed the keys from my purse and taken Shiloh. By the time I got out to the front of the house, she was already driving away with the baby. I swear, Sam, there was nothing I could do to stop her. If only I had gone back to check. If only I had woken up and heard the sounds, it might never have happened the way it did.”
Sam could hear the tears welling up beneath Lucy’s words and the sound broke something inside of him.
It killed him to think that Lucy blamed herself for what was actually his fault. If only he had been there. If only he hadn’t been such a selfish asshole back in college, thinking he could sleep with anybody that showed interest—no emotions, no attachments, those were his rules—whenever he wanted, with no consequences. He had treated women like disposable toys, thinking that he could use them, play with them and then discard them. It was the only real example he’d grown up with. Promises of love and fidelity didn’t seem to mean much, so what purpose was there in making them? He’d been careful of course, making sure to use protection, but how stupid of him to think that would always be enough! How stupid of him to think that there would never be a price for the way he behaved! It had seemed the only way to live at the time, the alternative absurd.
He’d seen what became of people who fell in love, got married and swore vows to each other. Look what those promises had got his mom—a broken heart and a mountain of bills, and a son she could barely feed and clothe.
He should have called Jennifer the next day, should have checked in on her to see if she was okay.
Thinking back, he had known there was something different about that girl, something more vulnerable than most of the women he’d been with. It could be said that she had seduced Sam—she had certainly made it clear what she wanted—but behind her bravado he had noticed a hint of defenselessness that he should have paid attention to. He’d chosen to ignore the signs, and it served him right that he had finally accrued a debt.
He couldn’t stand that Lucy thought it was hers to pay.
“There’s nothing you could have done,” he offered, willing his words to sink into that deep disparity he knew she felt, because it matched his own. “You couldn’t have stopped Jennifer, and you’ve done nothing but be a great parent to Shiloh—” he paused “—as far as I can tell.”
The drive to hold her was too strong to ignore any longer. He stepped toward Lucy, not missing the sharp intake of her breath as he wrapped his arms underneath hers and around her waist. He’d done it mostly for himself, for the comfort he needed and couldn’t ask for, but the way Lucy’s warm hands grasped his forearms before she turned and buried her head in his chest told him she needed the contact just as much as he did. It didn’t escape him that she had no idea she was consoling him, and the thought caused an ache that radiated through his body.
He opened his lips to tell her the truth. It might not be the right time, and he knew she would probably hate him instantly and want him out of her sight, but he had to do it.
A loud ring shattered the silence, and they looked at each other, momentarily confused, before realizing that it came from Lucy’s pocket. She pulled out of Sam’s arms and reached to grab the increasingly insistent phone.
“Hi, sweetie,” Lucy said, her voice filled with false strength. “Yes, Sam and I are here—” She covered the mouthpiece and whispered to him that Shiloh was on the other end. “We’re up at the Rigsby but we’re leaving now for the café. Meet us there?”
Sam walked out of the control room, desperate for some fresh air and a second to himself to go over what had just happened. He’d rolled into town less than a week ago, determined to find his daughter, armed with only a vague plan and a single suitcase. Now what the hell was he doing, lusting after the girl’s aunt? Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t blame himself.
After all, Lucy was beautiful, smart, kind and the best mom he could ever have wished for his daughter, so it made sense that he would be attracted to her. And he was no stranger to being drawn to a pretty woman, but this was so much different. What he was beginning to feel for Lucy was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It was something deep and wide and terrifying, something he didn’t want, and something he sure as hell didn’t deserve.
He shouldn’t have let her invite him into her house, should have said no when she offered to take him on a walk around the grounds. He’d been well aware of the risks, and he decided to ignore them anyway, just as he had done with Jennifer.
What he needed to do now was to take a deep breath, get some distance from Lucy and regroup, to remember why he’d come here in the first place. Any st
eps he took from here on out would be for Shiloh. Everything he did from that day on would be in her best interest.
There was no room in the equation for Sam to be selfish, which meant, of course, that there was no room for Lucy.
* * *
Lucy exited the control room, stopping briefly to lock up behind her, taking a moment to center herself before she joined Sam. Her heart was kicking against the inside of her chest, even as she was relieved for the interruption of Shiloh’s phone call.
What had happened back there?
It was as if within the space of an hour she’d let everything out that she had been holding in the past few years, or really her entire life. What was it about Sam that made her feel as if she could do that without judgment? He’d opened up something inside her, allowing her to expose all the raw spaces that previously she’d felt were too tender to let anyone see, for fear they might start bleeding again. She had shared things with him that she hadn’t ever shared with anyone, not even Tessa.
Even though she knew it probably wasn’t wise, it had felt incredibly good to talk about all those things. Once she’d got past the pain when she first opened her mouth and the words had started spilling out, a strange calm had come over her, and she knew what it was. It was healing.
She tucked the keys back into her pocket and went to find Sam.
He was wandering along the edge of the hill that the telescope sat on, leaning against the orange rail, staring out into the distance. When he turned to look at her, his face was pale, and realization hit her that even though it might have felt good for her to say so much, maybe it wasn’t good for Sam. Maybe he had just been polite and he didn’t really want to hear all of the things about her past, about Shiloh and Jennifer.
Her heart sank.
She shouldn’t have been so open with him—it was completely selfish of her. She was just starting to really like him, to enjoy his company, not just for the way he opened her up but because of the way he just let her be herself. He didn’t ask much of her in the time they spent together. And now she was afraid she was going to scare him away. She looked down at her toes, worried he might see the blush that was rising up in her neck.
Then he surprised her for the millionth time that day by taking her hand in his. He didn’t say anything, just led her away from the railing and down the trail.
“Hey, you two,” said Shiloh, who was sitting at the edge of the trail when they returned from the telescope.
“Hi, sweetie,” Lucy answered, suddenly pulling her hand away from Sam’s. Shiloh caught her eye though, and Lucy knew her niece had seen. A slow, mischievous grin spread across Shiloh’s face, but thankfully she didn’t say anything. She just headed over to Sam, and the two of them started chatting wildly about her day.
Lucy thought again how incredibly strange it was that the two of them had bonded so quickly. Especially when Shiloh normally took so long to warm up to people. It wasn’t that she was shy; it was more as if she knew what she was looking for in a person and she was careful to only spend time and invest in people whom she thought were genuine and true. Lucy realized suddenly that that was one of the reasons that she was starting to trust him so much, even without knowing him for that long. Shiloh was an incredible barometer of people. She knew instinctively whether or not someone was good at heart, and Lucy had learned to trust her niece’s intuition even more than she trusted her own.
The three of them moved companionably down the trail in comfortable silence. Lucy walked behind Sam and Shiloh, noticing how sweet they looked together.
But something prickled in her chest.
She had done everything she could to be a good mother figure for Shiloh, and it wasn’t often that she thought about Shiloh’s father. Who he was, where he might be, why he had chosen not to be involved in his daughter’s life. It wasn’t something that Lucy saw a lot of value in spending time on. At the same time, though, she had loved her dad so much, had spent so many good hours with him, and sometimes she wished the same for Shiloh.
It was one thing to have lost a father, it was another to have never known one.
“I’m thirsty, Aunt Lu,” Shiloh said, turning around to make a circle around her and Sam.
“If Lucy has the keys to the café,” Sam said, “I think I know just the thing to fix that.”
“Awesome,” Shiloh said, speeding ahead of the two of them. Lucy feigned a cough as dust rose around them. The color had come back to Sam’s face, and Lucy wondered if it was okay to bring up what had happened. She didn’t want to see him so pale again, so distressed about the things she had chosen to share with him.
“Look, Sam. I’m really sorry about what happened back there. I know I shouldn’t have told you all those things. You’re just trying to be nice and I said too much and I hope it doesn’t affect your decision to work at the café. I know I’m not your boss, at least not directly, but I really shouldn’t have been so open with you.”
Sam stopped talking and turned to face her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Lucy. It was my fault. I asked you about Shiloh and her past, and you were just being kind by answering my questions. I’m sorry I brought up so many things that caused you pain to rehash. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”
She wanted him to hold her hand again, to feel his warm skin against hers. When he’d done it before, it had been more comforting than anything he might’ve said. But at the same time, she didn’t want to concern Shiloh. She didn’t want her niece to get attached to someone who hadn’t made any sort of commitment to them. And she still didn’t know that much about Sam. She didn’t know if he was just a drifter, passing through town along with his incredible culinary skills, or if he was running from something more dangerous...something she should be worried about. She wanted to ask him again why he was here, to see if this time he might share more. But it wasn’t the time. Enough nerves had been exposed for the day.
They reached the Lonestar Café, and Shiloh headed up the ramp to the outdoor deck, stopping to leave room for Lucy to open the door. The sunlight was fading, painting the sky brilliant hues of red and orange and yellow. Soon the vibrant colors would be replaced by Lucy’s favorite sight—the Milky Way, stars and the spring moon.
Thinking about that reminded her of the upcoming fund-raiser gala for the observatory. She had done most of the planning already, but there were a few more things to set in place. The annual dinner was something that most people enjoyed, but for Lucy it was just a reminder that the observatory was hanging on by a thread. It was a reminder that they needed the generosity of the Peach Leaf community, and other donating guests in order to survive, to keep teaching about things that mattered so much to her and to the scientists. She knew that if things got any worse, they would be in trouble. It was almost impossible to imagine the observatory folding, ceasing to exist. But she knew it could happen at some point.
Once inside the café, Sam headed straight to the kitchen, leaving her to talk to Shiloh. Lucy pulled up a chair at one of the tables, and Shiloh drove over to join her. Her niece’s long beautiful hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her cheeks were pink with the effort of pushing her chair around the grounds.
She looked just like her mother, whom they both missed so much but never talked about with each other. Lucy had always been open with her about Jennifer. They had come to an unspoken agreement long ago that they wouldn’t obsess over the reasons why Jennifer left. For a kid her age, Shiloh was incredibly mature, and seemed to have an understanding that it wasn’t her fault that her mother had been unable to care for her. Jennifer had been in and out of their lives over the years until the accident, when Shiloh was just seven years old, so her niece was aware that Lucy wasn’t her real mother, but she treated Lucy like one.
“How did it go with Paige today, sweetie?” Lucy asked. Shiloh reached up a hand to brush back her bangs, rolling her eyes. She smiled and Lucy let out a laugh. “That bad, huh?”
Shiloh shook her head. “No, no. It was great. It’s j
ust that Owen and Winnie can be a handful sometimes.”
Lucy nodded. “All kids can be.”
“Except for me,” Shiloh said, grinning at Lucy.
They both laughed, but it wasn’t too far from the truth. They had their ups and downs, but Shiloh was a wonderful kid. Even when Shiloh gave her grief, not a day went by that Lucy wasn’t aware of how lucky she was to have her.
They both looked up then as Sam came toward them, carrying a tray of what looked like fresh lemonade. Sam set the tray down on the table, and began serving them. He set a tall glass in front of each of them and poured the sunshine-colored liquid.
When Sam wasn’t paying attention, Shiloh looked over at him and then back at Lucy, as if the two of them shared a secret. Lucy opened her eyes wide, silently praying that her niece wouldn’t say anything to embarrass either of them. If Lucy were honest though, she enjoyed Sam’s efforts. Most of the guys Lucy had dated in the past hadn’t shown any interest in her niece, and Shiloh had given them the same treatment. With Sam, it was different. Shiloh and Sam seemed perfectly fine to talk to each other with or without Lucy.
Lucy realized that the two of them were developing their own relationship, regardless of whatever mysterious thing was happening between her and Sam. That’s why she needed to be careful. Lucy had never been spectacular at reading other people’s body language, but she knew that there was a connection between her and Sam. And she was almost certain that he had nearly kissed her more than once that day. More than that, she knew that she had wanted him to.
Once Sam finished pouring the lemonade, he sat down across from them and took a sip from his own glass. Lucy noticed that Shiloh was nervously drawing circles in the condensation that had begun to develop on her lemonade cup. Lucy wanted to ask what was wrong, but she knew that if she held out for a few moments, Shiloh would talk about it on her own.
“So, I have some news,” Shiloh said, her voice quiet. She still didn’t look up from her glass.