Mending the Widow's Heart

by Mia Ross

  “You have no idea.” She cast a fond gaze back at the loving, generous woman who’d shown her so much of the world. “Daphne Mills never met anyone she didn’t want to know better, and they all feel the same about her. It’s the most incredible thing you ever saw.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said, giving her a look that finished his compliment without him speaking another word.

  Holly felt her cheeks warming and focused on reaching back to fix Chase’s collar to give herself a reprieve. She wasn’t used to being admired, and certainly not by a man as impressive as this one. Military man, helpful neighbor, stalwart friend—there was a lot to admire in the tall contractor. A girl could do worse than losing her heart to Sam Calhoun.

  Even before the last thought had fluttered through her mind, she dismissed it as foolish nonsense and mentally shooed it away. She had a son to raise and a future to plan. She didn’t have the time or the energy for anything that would distract her from rebuilding the life that had been stuck in a holding pattern for far too long. No matter how handsome that distraction might be.

  By the way people were reacting to Sam’s presence in the quaint white chapel, it had been a while since he’d attended services there. Members of the congregation made a point of stopping to say hello, shake his hand or even embrace him. It was as if he was coming home again, and judging by the bewilderment on his face, that was how he felt, too.

  “I see most of these folks all the time,” he murmured as he guided Daphne’s wheelchair toward a cluster of open seats in the back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

  While her aunt proudly introduced Chase to the folks seated nearby, Holly said, “They’re happy to see you back in church. I think it’s nice of them to make a fuss.”

  “Speaking of a fuss.” Chuckling, he nodded toward a lovely young woman hurrying toward them from the front row. She was wearing a cute upturned white hat, and as she got closer Holly could see that it was meant to disguise the fact that she was completely bald underneath.

  When she arrived, her short run had left her out of breath, and Sam frowned as he caught her arms to steady her. “Okay?”

  She nodded gamely, gulping some air before bathing him in a delighted little girl’s smile. “It’s so awesome to see you! I’ve been praying you’d come back.”

  “Well, here I am. Holly and Chase Andrews, this is my baby sister, Emma.”

  “I really hate it when he and Brian call me that,” she complained, even as she extended a slender hand to Holly. “I’ve been dying to meet you so I could thank you in person.”

  “For?”

  Emma sent her much-taller big brother an adoring look. “For making Sam smile again.”

  Holly snuck a glance at him, wondering how the reserved contractor would respond to such a personal comment. Fortunately, he seemed to take it in stride and grinned back. “Reading sappy romance novels during chemo again?”

  “Gran bought me a whole box of them at the library sale last month. They’re the best distraction ever invented. They keep me from staring at the clock, waiting for my session to be over. It takes for-ever.”

  She stretched the description out in a way that reminded Holly of Chase. She’d never known anyone in treatment for cancer, but Emma seemed perfectly comfortable discussing it, so she reached into her old bag of hospital conversations for something to say. Noticing the filigreed silver-and-amethyst dangles bobbing from Emma’s ears, she said, “Those earrings are really pretty. I’ve never seen anything quite like them.”

  “And you won’t,” she replied proudly. “I made them myself. Some of the other patients want me to make them jewelry, too, and I’ve started doing a few pieces at a time. Chemo can make you feel ugly, so it’s nice to have pretty things to balance it out.”

  Emma’s positive attitude was inspiring, and Holly recognized Sam’s unrelenting determination in his younger sister. “How are things going?”

  “Slow but fine,” Emma replied in a bright, chipper tone that matched the whimsical hat she wore. “We’ll know more in a few months. But I mostly came over to invite you, Daphne and Chase to lunch at Gran’s. And Sam, of course.” She lifted an expertly penciled-in brow at her brother. “Since it seems he finally decided to take a day off. Brian’s here for the day, and with Mom and Dad still out in Montana, Gran thought we could all use some family time. And a decent meal,” she added with a giggle.

  “I’m not working at Daphne’s,” he explained, mischief glinting in his eyes, “but I’ve got other things to do. What’re you having?”

  “Come by the house and find out,” she told him, flouncing a delicate shoulder as she sashayed back to rejoin the rest of her family.

  Sam’s protective gaze followed her until she was safely seated. As she picked up a hymnal, he sighed. “Man, I’m really worried about her. I wish she’d slow down a little.”

  “Some people do best when they’re busy,” Holly reminded him as they sat down in the row behind where Daphne and Chase had settled. “It keeps their minds off how terrified they are.”

  “Sounds like the voice of experience.”

  “That’s because it is.” Smiling, she nudged her son’s shoulder. “One foot in front of the other, right, bud?”

  Turning, he explained to Sam, “That’s the first song I learned. It’s from my favorite Christmas movie.”

  “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town,” Sam commented, grinning at the boy’s obvious surprise. “I liked that one, too.”

  “I thought it was cool how he could do stuff the animals did and how he was nice to people for no reason.”

  “Yeah, Santa’s a good guy.”

  Chase gave him a long, curious look. “You know he’s not real, right?”

  “No way.” Sam’s jaw fell open in a shocked expression that nearly made Holly laugh out loud. “Are you serious? No one ever told me that.”

  Clearly not fooled, Chase rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Auntie D calls that overacting. It’s pretty funny, though.”

  “Kid’s too smart for his own good,” Sam muttered to Holly, who had to admit there were times she agreed with him. “You’ve all been invited to my grandmother’s house for lunch after church, if you’re not busy.”

  “What’s she having?” Chase asked, making them all laugh.

  Sam laughed, holding up his hand for a high five. “Good idea to ask first. The other day I think I heard her say something about Yankee pot roast.”

  The young Red Sox fan screwed up his nose in obvious disapproval, and Sam laughed again. “It’s just the name some woman gave her recipe a long time ago. She didn’t know any better.”

  “She probably wasn’t a baseball fan.”

  “Probably not.”

  Fortunately, their mild female-bashing was cut off by the organist playing the opening chords of “How Great Thou Art.” Holly was a passable alto, but she was more than a little impressed by the tall bass standing next to her. Chase’s voice wandered through the chords, landing on an accurate note here and there. His efforts earned him an approving smile from Daphne, and once he took his seat again, she reached over the arm of her wheelchair to hug him briefly.

  Up front, a man dressed in a simple gray suit strolled from his spot in the tenor section of the choir to stand behind a simple lectern at the front of the aisle. Sunlight streamed through the tall multipaned windows, brightening the age-darkened oak interior of the small church. The bottom sections of each window tilted in, allowing the sounds of birds inside. Holly had been in more impressive houses of worship, but none gave her the feeling of peace that she felt inside this quaint New England chapel.

  Pastor Brown shuffled some papers on the lectern, frowning at the contents before folding them and tucking them in the interior pocket of his jacket. Resting his arms on the slanted top, he folded his hands and smi
led at the congregation. “I think I’ll save that one for another time. You don’t mind, do you?”

  Everyone laughed, and after they quieted down, he continued, “Early this morning, I was out in our garden, marveling at how plants come back year after year. During the winter, they go dormant, waiting for the right time to bloom again. Sometimes, the same kind of thing happens to people.”

  Holly felt Sam stiffen beside her, and while the preacher didn’t look directly at him, she guessed that the former soldier knew exactly who this particular message was intended for. She couldn’t tell if he was pleased to be included in the impromptu sermon, but judging by his reaction, she suspected that he’d rather not be singled out this way.

  “Life takes twists and turns that none of us can foresee. Some are wonderful, like falling in love.” Pausing, he smiled over at the choir director, who beamed back as if they’d just met yesterday instead of many years ago. Turning back, he frowned. “Some are horrible, and they challenge our resolve in ways that make us wonder if we can ever recover. In those times, our own strength isn’t enough to get us through. Fortunately, there’s someone watching over us who’s always there for us to lean on. All we need to do is put away our pride and ask Him for His help.”

  Without a word, Sam stood and stalked from the church.

  As she watched him go down the steps and turn onto the sidewalk, Holly realized just how difficult it had been for the former soldier to put aside his lingering anger and give God another chance.

  Sam’s brave effort couldn’t have ended any worse, and she wondered if he’d ever be able to find his way back.

  * * *

  Sam was sharpening the blade for his table saw when a shadow appeared in the open doorway of his garage workshop. He didn’t have to look up to know who it was, and he growled, “Go away.”

  “We missed you at lunch,” Holly said, ignoring his terse order and invading his workspace. Leaning against a hand-hewn beam that held up the roof of the old carriage house, she didn’t say anything more. He figured that if he stayed quiet long enough, she’d take the hint and leave.

  But she didn’t.

  After several minutes of stubborn silence, he finally angled a glare over at her. He’d been expecting disapproval, at best, so what he saw instead surprised him. Sadness clouded her beautiful eyes, and something in his chest tightened at the thought that he’d been the one to put it there. While he wasn’t accustomed to explaining himself to people, after all she’d done for him, he felt as if he owed her some kind of reason for his odd behavior.

  The trouble was, he didn’t have one. So he went with the truth. “I just couldn’t stay, Holly. I tried, but I couldn’t do it. I begged God for His help that day, and Nate still died.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re the only one who does,” he reminded her as calmly as he could manage. “I wanna keep it that way.”

  She gave him a long, assessing look. “For how long?”

  “I don’t know,” he snarled, losing the precarious grip he’d had on his temper all day. Recognizing that none of this was her fault, he dredged up a more civil tone. “So, how was your pot roast?”

  “Delicious, of course. Ellie told me she’s really proud of you for the step you took today.”

  “Not that it mattered.”

  “It did to her.”

  With that, Holly turned on her heel and walked out, leaving him staring at her back. Ramrod straight, it reminded him that the slender Southern belle had a backbone of pure steel, and even his worst mood didn’t intimidate her in the least.

  His family knew better than to tangle with him when he went into what Brian called his grizzly bear mode, Sam groused silently, tossing tools into their trays and slamming drawers shut hard enough to shatter what had been a quiet Sunday afternoon. Far from helping, the tantrum only ratcheted his frustration higher.

  Desperate to escape from it, he briefly considered taking Nate’s truck out on some back roads before reason kicked in to warn him that was a very, very bad idea. Driving in his current state, he could hurt himself or, worse, someone else. Casting around for another solution, his gaze fell on an old ax leaning in a corner. Draped with cobwebs, it suggested just the kind of manual labor he was looking for, so he grabbed it and headed for Daphne’s jungle of a backyard.

  At least this way, he wouldn’t be a menace to anyone but himself. And any unfortunate trees standing in the way of the Japanese garden Daphne had admired in one of her magazines and promptly decided she wanted.

  He had no idea how long he’d been at it when he heard the back door open and then close. Feeling much calmer now, he paused and glanced over to find Holly picking her way through the waist-high grass and thistle bushes, plate in one hand and the handle of a large thermos dangling from the other.

  Realizing he must be a total mess, Sam reached into the back pocket of his jeans for the bandana he habitually carried. But today it wasn’t there. Exasperated and fuming when he left his place, he’d been too preoccupied to think of grabbing a clean one.

  After setting the food down on a nearby boulder, Holly sat next to it and handed him the dishcloth she’d draped over her shoulder. “I thought you might want this.”

  This woman had an uncanny ability to think ahead, and he took the towel from her with a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. I figured you must be thirsty, so there’s ice water in the thermos. I don’t know what kind of sandwiches you like. I hope ham and cheese is okay.”

  “It’s great. Thank you.” Mention of food reminded him that he’d missed lunch, and his stomach growled insistently while he wiped his face.

  Apparently, it was loud enough for her to hear, because she smiled. “Sounds like I’m just in time.”

  “You seem to have a knack for that.”

  “Taking care of Chase keeps me on my toes. And now, there’s everything to do here besides. Being organized is the best chance I have of not losing my mind on a daily basis.”

  “I can just imagine.”

  Looking around at what he’d accomplished so far, she asked, “So is this where the Japanese garden is going to be?”

  “Only if you like this spot.”

  “I do,” she assured him immediately. “It’s exactly what I had in mind.”

  If he hadn’t seen it for himself, he’d never guess that this calm, composed woman had been irritated enough with him earlier to storm out of his garage in a huff. Sam wasn’t sure if that meant she’d decided not to give up on him, or if she’d chosen to back-burner that incident for now. But he’d been raised to take responsibility for his actions, no matter how humiliating they might turn out to be.

  Sitting on the ground to avoid towering over her, he looked up at her with what he hoped was a contrite expression. “Holly, I’m sorry for how I acted earlier. My reaction to the pastor’s sermon wasn’t your fault, and I never should’ve taken my frustration out on you.”

  “You’re right.” The blunt response made his heart sink, but then she surprised him by smiling. “But you’re also forgiven. I know how it feels to be furious and not have anyone to blame.”

  “I blame God,” he corrected her bluntly.

  Her smile took on a melancholy character, and compassion softened her eyes. “That will change someday, when you’re ready.”

  “You say that a lot.”

  “That’s because it’s true.”

  With that, she kissed his cheek and stood up to head back inside. While he wolfed down a meal he hadn’t even realized he needed, her gentle advice echoed in his mind. Knowing that someone understood the baffling shifts in his mood was so comforting, it amazed him. While other people had shown him sympathy and patience, Holly could actually relate to what he was going through. So when she told him that he’d eventually work his way through it and out
the other side, he believed her.

  Somehow, Holly had broken through the barrier he’d built around himself and shown him that he could absorb his devastating past and still have a future. He admired the young widow’s strength in picking herself up and moving beyond the senseless loss of her husband. Even more, Sam appreciated her being kind and tough with him at the same time. He didn’t know how she managed it, but her faith in him made him want to prove to her that he was worthy of her confidence.

  He finished off his sandwich, then leaned back to admire the sunny afternoon that had seemed so bleak to him earlier. A pair of goldfinches swooped in to perch on neighboring branches of a grand oak tree, squawking at each other while a squirrel scampered up the trunk and disappeared into a knothole. Butterflies floated through the tall grass, lighting here and there before taking off again.

  Now he understood why Holly had insisted on putting in a garden this far from the house. Peaceful but far from quiet, it was the ideal spot for someone to go when they needed a little solitude. He was no landscape designer, but when he closed his eyes he could almost hear the bubbling of the waterfall and pond she’d sketched out for him to create.

  Even though he’d been skeptical of the idea at first, now he got it. And if he had to dig every foot of the thing by hand, he’d make sure this turned out to be the most exquisite Japanese garden in all of New Hampshire.

  Chapter Six

  “Oh, just leave those,” Daphne insisted as Holly started to clear the dining room table. Chase was upstairs, sprawled out on his bed in his clothes after a long day of boyishness that would have put her out of commission for a week.

  Carefully sitting back in her chair, Daphne smiled. “We haven’t had much time to chat with everything that’s been going on. How are you and Chase adjusting to Liberty Creek?”

  “We’re fine,” Holly hedged, unwilling to confide her growing uneasiness about the future. Chase was flourishing in their temporary circumstances, buoyed by the rambunctious herd of friends he’d made at summer rec. He seldom mentioned his old crew, which was a relief to her.