The New Guy in Town

by Teresa Southwick

  “I can see why.” The only baby Sam had ever been around was his niece, Ellie’s daughter, Leah. But this one was pretty cute, too, he noted.

  “Speaking of the star...” Faith said. “Where’s my little troublemaker?”

  “Hi, Mommy. Hey, Sam.” Phoebe appeared in the doorway and handed the baby a small pink doll. “I’ve been helping Kate with Eve.”

  “Have you? Good job.” Faith smiled at her daughter but the strain was there if you knew to look.

  “I’ll go get my backpack.” Phoebe disappeared inside.

  “She’s been a godsend,” Kate said. “Cabot and Ty are hanging out with the summer campers who are boarding here. And Eve is really fussy. Teething, I think. Your daughter is so good and patient with her.”

  “I’m glad it helped to have her here. And I really appreciate you letting her stay longer so I could volunteer to help out the firefighters.”

  “We all do our part.” Kate’s expression oozed sympathy for what Faith was going through.

  Sam was beginning to see that what the mayor had said about Blackwater Lake was true. People in this town pulled together when times were tough. If you couldn’t go and help out in person, you took care of someone’s child so they could go. He’d never experienced anything quite like this. Before moving here his idea of helping out was to write a check.

  “Do you want to come in?” Kate offered. “I’ve got some iced tea or lemonade.”

  “No, thanks,” Faith said. “I’ve imposed on you enough for one day.”

  “I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to meet my husband and son,” she said to Sam.

  “I’m sure I will soon.”

  It didn’t escape his notice that Logan Hunt’s spread wasn’t far from here and he was pretty sure the two ranches shared a property line. After getting settled, one of his goals was to mend family fences with his cousin.

  “I’m ready, Mommy.” Phoebe had her pink backpack and stepped out onto the porch. “Are we going to Sam’s house?”

  Faith nodded. “It’s still not safe for us to go home.”

  “Do you know anything about our house?” the little girl asked. “Is it okay?”

  Faith hesitated, probably trying to find the right words. As quiet as she’d been on the way here, Sam was pretty sure she’d been searching for a way to tell the truth without traumatizing this child. In the end that wasn’t possible.

  “Phoebe, the news isn’t good. The fire captain told me that they couldn’t stop the flames and our neighborhood was affected.”

  “Is our house gone?” Her brown eyes filled with tears.

  “Some houses are. He didn’t know for sure about ours—” Faith stopped, no doubt trying to be strong in front of her child, but struggling to control her own emotions.

  Sam had to do something to help her. He went down on one knee, to Phoebe’s level. “The truth is, honey, that some of the houses just have damage, but are still there. The firefighters couldn’t check because they’re too busy trying to keep the fire from spreading to someone else’s place—”

  The little girl started to cry really hard, sobs that shook her little body. Sam didn’t have to pull her in for a hug because she threw herself against him.

  “I w-want to go home—”

  “I know you do.” Feeling helpless and out of his depth, he patted her back. Give him a spreadsheet or a boring business meeting any day. A little girl’s tears and no way to fix them were a guy’s worst nightmare. Just cut his heart out with a spoon. That would be a walk in the park compared to this. “It will be all right.”

  “No, it won’t.” She pulled away, tears rolling down her cheeks. “How can you say that?”

  Sam was a numbers guy and they were specific. Maybe it would help to bring this conversation around to quantifiable terms and get her to open up at the same time. “Tell me what you think the worst would be.”

  “My things are burned up.”

  “Maybe not. We don’t know for sure yet.” He met her gaze. “But what things are you worried about specifically?”

  She brushed at the tears on her face with the back of her hand as she thought about the question. “All my clothes. My Frozen pajamas.”

  “You keep your sleepwear in the freezer?” he asked, glancing at Faith, who smiled.

  “No, silly,” Phoebe said. “It’s a movie. Anna and Elsa are on my nightgown.” She thought some more. “All my playing dress-up stuff could be gone. My Ariel costume from last Halloween.”

  “Who’s Ariel?” Three women, make that four if you counted the baby, looked at him as if he’d just crawled out from under a rock. He shrugged. “It’s not in my frame of reference.”

  “She’s a character from the animated movie The Little Mermaid,” Kate told him.

  “Ah. I’m going out on a limb and guessing that the costume didn’t have shoes, so that’s one less thing to worry about.” He assessed Phoebe’s expression and decided that attempt at humor had fallen flat. “What else?”

  “Mommy bought me a new dress for the first day of school. It’s pink.”

  “Of course it is,” he said, looking at the color of her backpack. “Is that all?”

  “No. My dollhouse came from Santa Claus. And there’s a stroller for my babies. They’re dolls but they look almost like a real baby. I have a cradle for them and a changing table. And—”

  “Whoa.” When the emotion level in her voice started to climb back into whimpering territory Sam was afraid quantifying might have backfired. Wow, there was a word he didn’t want to say out loud. But it was time to change the direction of this conversation. “Honey, those are just things. They can be replaced.”

  “How?”

  “From the store,” he said patiently. “A marathon shopping trip will do the trick. The really important things are the ones you can’t buy. You’re okay. Your mom is okay. No one has been injured, not even the firefighters. That’s a good thing because people can’t be replaced.”

  “I guess,” she said, humoring him.

  “Bottom line—everyone who is important to you is fine.”

  “You’re important to me, Sam.”

  The words went straight to his heart. Bam, the icy defensive wall shattered and instantly melted. “That means a lot to me, Squirt.”

  “And it’s not just because I like your pool.”

  “Good to know.” He glanced at the two women observing this little talk and saw approval in their eyes. It was a relief to know he was on the right track. “Have you ever heard the saying that every cloud has a silver lining? That means you can always find something positive in a bad situation. For you it’s looking forward to an awesome shopping trip.”

  “Yeah.” There was no conviction in the single word and her thin shoulders slumped.

  “What else is on your mind?”

  “What if my house is all burned up? What if I don’t have anyplace to live? Or a bed?”

  Sam glanced at Faith and the look on her face had him wanting to hold her again. He remembered her telling Phoebe that they would only have to stay with him until the fire was contained and it was safe to go home. No one had said anything about what would happen if there was no home to go back to. This little girl had gotten the meaning of the word temporary in relation to their current living arrangement. It was time to remove any uncertainty. He was now part of this town where pitching in was a hallmark of citizenship.

  He met the little girl’s worried gaze and willed her to know that he meant every word he was about to say. “There are things to be concerned about, but where you’re going to live shouldn’t be one of them, honey. You can live with me as long as you want.”

  Phoebe smiled and threw herself into his arms for a hug. “Thanks, Sam.”

  “You’re welcome, Squirt.” He couldn’t ima
gine a business deal with a positive outcome that could make him feel any better than he did right at this moment. When she stepped back he said, “So, you’re good?”

  “Yes. I’m starving.”

  “Okay. Let’s get you fed.”

  “Can I help make dinner again?”

  “Sure.” He watched her run down the steps to the car after saying goodbye to the baby.

  “Wow.” Kate’s tone was full of admiration. “You have the father thing down pretty well.”

  “That was all luck.” And yet he was feeling fairly proud of himself.

  Until he looked at Faith. There was a frown on her face that put a big fat hole in his smug balloon.

  Uh-oh.

  Chapter Five

  On the drive to Sam’s house, Phoebe chattered away from the backseat. She loved the car with its cushy leather seats and rear air-conditioning that she could control by herself. Faith, on the other hand, was not jumping on the Sam-is-a-rock-star train. Where did he get off promising that they could stay with him as long as they wanted?

  It sounded crazy to be annoyed at his generosity, which meant she could probably benefit from therapy. She was feeling just a tad shrewish when you factored in how incredibly sweet he’d been to Phoebe, reassuring her when Faith got so emotional.

  The problem was he hadn’t run it by her first. What if she wanted to make other arrangements? Part of her was relieved that they had somewhere to stay, even though leaving would be the smart move. Living with a man she was so attracted to was living on the edge. Love had never done her any favors and abstinence was her preferred form of protection.

  She and Sam hadn’t said anything to each other since leaving the Dixon Ranch but that was going to change when Phoebe was occupied and Faith could speak to him alone. However, finding time alone proved a challenge.

  “Home sweet home.” Sam pulled the SUV into the long curving driveway.

  The beauty of the perfectly landscaped front yard made Faith wonder if a person could ever take this lush setting for granted. “You have a yard that is completely spectacular.”

  “Thank you.” He hit a button located above the car’s rearview mirror and the garage door lifted. After pulling in he said, “Who’s hungry?”

  “Did you forget?” Phoebe said. “I already said I’m starving.”

  “So you did. I am, too. What do you say to a backyard cookout and eating outside by the pool?”

  “Cool. Can I have a hot dog?”

  “Yes. Or a hamburger,” he answered.

  “What do you want, Mommy?”

  So many things, Faith thought. Win the lottery. Give a piece of her mind to the mean girl in high school. World peace. And to not have these feelings for Sam. She glanced over at him and nearly sighed out loud at his lean, masculine profile. “I’d like to know how you can promise a cookout when there was no cookout food in the refrigerator this morning.”

  “I have an assistant.” He pushed his aviator sunglasses to the top of his head.

  “Her job is to go grocery shopping for you? That seems sexist.”

  “Faith.” He sighed. “You have no faith. My assistant is named Jim and he volunteered to help so I could help. Everyone in town is pitching in.”

  And she wanted to bite her tongue. “That was very nice of him.”

  “Yes, it was.” He opened the driver’s-side door. “Let’s go, ladies.”

  “I want to help.” Phoebe had the volunteer spirit, but that might have more to do with a crush of her own on their host.

  For the next half hour there was a flurry of activity and cooperation getting everything necessary on the patio table outside. Phoebe was in charge of paper plates, utensils and napkins. Faith made a green salad and cut up fruit. Sam assembled a platter of hot dogs, hamburgers and buns. There was no time to talk alone and Faith wouldn’t be surprised if he’d taken that into consideration before announcing the menu. And there she was being skeptical again.

  She was going to try to be positive, and it was positively a perfect evening. The air was cool and carried the scent of pine and wildflowers. In the distance there was a spectacular view of the Montana mountains. The sun had already set, but the yard was lined with lights and the patio cover had spotlights that pushed back the dark. From here the smoke wasn’t visible and she did her best to put aside her fears about the fire. The glass of wine Sam gave her helped.

  She couldn’t resist teasing him. “Can we talk about your complete lack of information regarding current cultural references?”

  “What information are we referring to?” Sam was sitting diagonally across the glass-topped patio table from her.

  “Ariel? The costume didn’t have shoes to worry about?”

  “She’s a mermaid, right?”

  “Right.” Phoebe pushed green salad around her plate without consuming a single leaf. Apparently a kid without toys could always find something to play with.

  “So she doesn’t need shoes.” He shrugged. “Fins, not feet.”

  “Well, eventually she walks upright on two legs, but that’s another conversation,” Faith said. “And from Frozen you went to pajamas in the freezer?”

  Phoebe giggled. “That was a good one, Sam.”

  “Thank you, Squirt.” He smiled at her then looked at Faith. “I freely admit that animated movies are not something I know much about.”

  “Phoebe could give you a lot of information. She’s seen them all.” And had DVDs. Maybe.

  “I bet she has.” There was a longneck bottle of beer in front of him and Sam took a sip.

  “My favorite is Frozen.” The little girl yawned.

  That’s what Faith had been waiting for. “It’s getting pretty close to bedtime, Phoebs. Time for your bath.”

  “But, Mommy—

  “No argument. It’s been a long day and you have camp tomorrow.” And Faith needed to talk to Sam. “Do you remember how to fill the tub?”

  “I’m not a baby.”

  “Okay. Take your plate inside then head upstairs. I’ll be there after Sam and I clean everything up.”

  “Okay.” The little girl did as requested, which meant she was too tired to protest.

  When she’d disappeared inside, Sam said, “I’m going to take a wild guess that you and I cleaning everything up has nothing to do with dishes.” Before she could confirm that, he added, “I meant what I said to her. You can stay here as long as you want.”

  “Sam, we talked about making promises to her,” Faith reminded him.

  “I meant it then and I still do. As long as you want,” he repeated.

  “What if I don’t want to stay at all?”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “Right. My decision. But your unilateral announcement makes things harder.”

  “How?” He seemed sincerely confused.

  “Look around.” She indicated the lush yard trimmed with lights, the beautiful pool and waterfall. “Phoebe wouldn’t want to leave this.”

  “That’s the point. She doesn’t have to.”

  “She does if I think that’s best. Because you didn’t run it by me first, making a move without her being upset becomes trickier.”

  “Do you want to go?”

  Yes and no, she thought. No one in their right mind would want to leave this gorgeous, spacious luxury. But she was uneasy about staying. No matter how much square footage there was, she and Sam were both under the same roof.

  “For now, no,” she finally said. If she was being honest, his support earlier when breaking the news to the little girl about the fire had been a blessing. “Phoebe is settled in and feels secure. Rocking the boat when she’s facing so much uncertainty doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  “I agree. And just so you know...” He leaned forward and
rested his forearms on the table. “I enjoy having you here.”

  Something in his tone brushed over her nerve endings and sparked heat that burned through her. It was the husky edge to his voice that made her feel as if he might be attracted to her. An intensity in his eyes that hinted at more than simple friendship. Then there was that moment when he’d pulled her into his arms to comfort her. His strength made her feel safe and sheltered, something she couldn’t ever remember experiencing before. It was too wonderful and too risky.

  A one-sided crush was bad enough but something mutual was an invitation to give in to temptation. She needed to nip that in the bud.

  “I bet you say that to all your women.”

  A wicked look stole into his eyes. “So, I met Des Parker.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” The question was a stall. She knew exactly what he was doing. This was payback for her so-I-met-Kiki remark. It was unexpected and threw her off balance.

  “It means that people who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

  “You’re implying that I see a lot of men?”

  “According to Phoebe. She mentioned Des and Logan Hunt.” He held up two fingers as he counted them off. “Who knows how many more you’re hiding.”

  “It’s different,” she defended.

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Don’t forget that I’ve delivered your breakup bouquets. Trust me, it is different.” Faith knew her rebuttal was sexist and a double standard. And she was on thin ice. She was sorry she’d brought it up. A change of subject seemed an excellent idea. If only she could think of something. “Just so we’re clear, I’m not hiding anything. You’re wrong about that.”

  “I don’t think so. And now that you mention it, I’m noticing a pattern of behavior. Every time something comes up that you don’t want to discuss, you bring up my dating habits.” He finished off his beer, then set the empty bottle on the table and toyed with it. “It doesn’t take a PhD in psychology to see that you have a story. A bad one. The only way your hiding would be more obvious is if you turned over furniture and ducked behind it.”