by Lois Richer
He kept riding farther and farther into the hills, where people seldom came because the terrain was too rocky, the land too wild. Here his herd ranged for the best grass. Here the land remained untouched, the same as it had been a hundred years ago. Here he’d found solace before, but now Sam had questions. He needed answers.
“So what’s my purpose?” he asked when he’d reached the summit of an outcropping. “What am I here for?” Anger built at the hopelessness of his situation.
He glared at the sky, unable to remain silent.
“Every single dream I’ve ever had, You’ve taken. What do You want from me, God?”
Trust.
Kelly’s words came back to him. God’s still in charge. And while He is, I’m not giving up. Kelly trusted God.
“I can’t. I feel like You’re trying to trick me or ruin me. It’s asking too much.”
Trust.
“Everything would have been fine if Kelly had married me. We could have kept the twins then. Why didn’t You work on her?”
Trust.
Sam kept throwing out questions, but that one word repeatedly hammered inside his brain.
Trust.
Exhausted, the sun dipping behind the hills, he rode home, his heart raw, his soul ragged.
Kelly said nothing as she set a warm plate of food before him. She served him fresh lemonade with ice and a piece of apple pie, smiled warmly at his thanks. But Sam thought she knew that every bite tasted like dust.
The only thing that warmed the ice around his heart was seeing her smile and kissing the twins and Jacob Samuel good-night. And soon two of those three would be gone.
Sam stood by Jacob Samuel’s crib, smoothing a hand over his back as the baby slept. The thoughts that filled his brain seemed like those of a traitor, but he was as committed to doing his best for the baby as he had been for the twins, and the truth was unavoidable.
“Sam?” Kelly tugged on his arm, drawing him into the family room. “Come. Sit down and talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking about.”
He sat down beside her, relishing the feeling of togetherness that being next to her always brought. But it wouldn’t last, not when she heard him out. Sam couldn’t say it. Not yet. When he didn’t speak, she rose, walked behind the sofa and began kneading the taut muscles in his neck.
“Talk to me, Sam. You’ve always been able to talk to me.”
Yes, he had. So now he told her of his thoughts.
“When you’re gone and the twins are gone, I won’t be able to manage alone. And I can’t expect my parents or yours to babysit all the time.”
“You don’t know the twins will be going, Sam. But anyway, continue.” She kept kneading, those kind, gentle hands of hers freeing the knots that had held his brain captive so that now his thoughts gained clarity.
“Even if I found a sitter who would come in, there’d have to be days off, times when I take the cattle to market,” he said quietly. “There’d be days when I move the heard north, situations when day care just wouldn’t cut it.”
Kelly’s fingers stilled. She walked around the sofa to stand in front of him, clenching her hands.
“What are you saying, Sam?” Her voice was barely audible.
“I think I might have to ask Abby to find a temporary family for Jacob Samuel,” he said. The silence of the room was deafening. He looked up to find her staring at him in horror.
“You’re willing to give away your own nephew? That’s how little faith you have in God’s love?” She shook her head, her eyes so sad it made his heart hurt. “I’m glad Jake and Marina aren’t here to witness this. I don’t think they’d ever forgive you. I don’t know if I can.”
Kelly turned and fled from the room as if she couldn’t stand to be near him anymore.
Sam had never felt more alone.
Chapter Twelve
“What’s wrong with Uncle Sam?” Sadie demanded two weeks later as she and Emma watched Kelly remove their bikes from the back of the truck. “Why isn’t he coming to the Canada Day picnic?”
“He’ll come later, honey.” Maybe, Kelly thought. “He has to look after his sick horse.”
Sadie and Emma looked at her with their bright blue eyes as if they knew she was making excuses for the uncle who seemed to have lost his laugh.
“It’s almost time for the parade,” Kelly told them as she set Jacob Samuel in his stroller. “I’m sure glad you two did such a nice job of decorating your bikes. They look wonderful. You remember what I told you?”
“Stay with the group and obey Auntie Abby’s son, Ivor,” Sadie chanted.
“And if you get tired?” Nervous at letting them go with the kids’ bicycle group without her or Sam present in case something happened, Kelly told herself to trust God and stop worrying.
“We’ll tell Ivor, an’ he’ll get someone to help.” Sadie frowned. “I wish Uncle Sam was here.”
So do I. Kelly struggled to suppress her longing as she pushed the stroller to where the other bike riders were assembling. She’d grown accustomed to having the big rancher by her side, imparting reassurance when she fussed about the kids, sharing the duties of caring for these precious children.
But Sam was still fighting an internal battle he couldn’t win. In the process she felt he was withdrawing further and further from God—and her. Her heart ached to help him, but though she petitioned God constantly, they had not yet received news of the judge’s decision.
“Okay, my darlings,” she said now, hugging silent Emma then chatty Sadie. “Jacob Samuel and I are going to find a place to watch. We’ll be waving at you.” She checked that the maple leaf flags were still firmly attached to the bikes, ensured that Ivor would have water bottles if they became thirsty and that he’d bring the twins to her in the park when the parade was over, as he’d promised on the phone this morning. “Have a good time.”
“Bye, Auntie Kelly.” They waved for a moment but soon disappeared in the group of riders.
Goodbye. It was so hard to hear. Especially since yesterday Kelly had received an email from the cruise line reminding her she had a bit more than six weeks left of her furlough. Then she’d have to leave everything and everyone she loved.
Oh, Sam. Why couldn’t you love me? her heart whispered. I’m not Naomi, but I’m here and I’m alive and I love you. She kept the smile pasted on her face as she passed new friends, who called a greeting. This is home, Sam. If you’re here.
But as she found a spot in the shade to park Jacob Samuel, she tried to quash the yearning inside. God’s will. That’s what she had to focus on. What God wanted for her, not what she wanted. Her own desires had led her astray. Trusting God might cause some pain, but at least He wouldn’t let her make another mistake.
Trust.
She gave Jacob Samuel a bottle and draped a blanket over the stroller to keep the light out, hoping he’d sleep for a while.
“Where have you been?”
“Sam! I thought you weren’t coming.” Her silly heart tap-danced with excitement as she gazed into his beloved face. She couldn’t help looping her arm through his and pressing her cheek against his chest. “I’m so glad you did.”
He wrapped his big hand around hers and squeezed. “I’m not missing anything else,” he said cryptically.
Kelly didn’t understand exactly what that meant, but she couldn’t ask because the high school band came marching past, playing a tune that drowned out voices. So she stood beside him, reveling in the joy of being with him on this bright sunny day as they celebrated their country’s birthday.
Sam must have noticed that she kept standing on tiptoe, trying to see if the twins were coming, because he leaned near her ear and said, “Relax, Mama. I checked on them before I found you. They’re having the time of their lives.”
She lean
ed her head against him. “So am I,” she murmured.
Sam grinned and flopped an arm around her shoulder as the decorated red-and-white floats of local merchants rolled past. He roared with laughter when a clown grabbed Kelly’s hand, drew her out of the crowd and made a big show of dancing with her before presenting her with a flower. A little embarrassed by the attention but enjoying the fun, Kelly accepted the flower, curtsied and let him lead her back to Sam.
“Didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” he said, his green eyes dark. “Are you going to save one for me tonight?”
“There’s a dance?” she asked, her breath catching at the look he gave her.
“In the town square. We have one every year.” He glanced away suddenly.
Kelly wondered if he was thinking of the times he’d danced with Naomi there. As quickly as the thought came, she tossed it away, determined to savor every moment of the next six weeks. It would have to last her a very long time.
“You can have every dance,” she assured him, blushing under his regard. “If you want.”
“Yeah,” he said then grinned. “I do.”
She could have married this wonderful man. Why hadn’t she?
Because you’re committed to living God’s will, not your own.
“Here they come.” Sam nudged her shoulder and pointed.
Kelly searched the group then smiled as the twins appeared on the bikes, pedaling at the same pace as the other kids while they searched the crowd.
Sam yelled, and that got their attention. Their faces glowed, and their grins stretched wider when they saw him. Sadie lifted one hand to wave and almost lost her balance. Kelly caught her breath and held it until the wheels had once more stabilized. Then she cheered, too.
When they disappeared from sight, Sam bent his head. “They did good,” he said, his pride evident.
“Yes, they did. Because you had them practice.” She smiled, reveling in just being with him. “I’m not sure they’d have had the courage otherwise. You’re a good uncle, Sam.”
“Just not a good enough father.” For a moment his face lost its joy. But then he shook his head and once more became the doting uncle. “Their decorations stayed on, too. Not like some of the others.”
Jacob Samuel’s squeal for attention stopped Kelly’s response but couldn’t stop her bubble of pride. This man was the twins’ dad, whether that grumpy old judge said so or not.
Sam fetched the twins, then they retrieved the picnic basket, found a cool spot under a big maple tree and enjoyed the picnic lunch Kelly had prepared. After that the afternoon was filled with kids’ games, a bread demonstration from the clay oven at the nearby museum and a tour of the service group tents scattered around the park, which offered Sam’s favorite.
“How many pieces of pie have you tasted?” Kelly teased Sam when he finally sprawled on the grass, replete.
“Only four,” he said sadly. “I’ll try more later. So far my favorite is the lemon from the Rotary booth.”
“That was mine.” Kelly chuckled at his frown. “Dad’s a Rotarian, but Mom didn’t have time to make her pies because they’re trying to get the quilt finished, so I made four lemon pies. Only lemon pies were Dad’s orders.”
“And you didn’t keep one?” Sam demanded, surging upward. He leaned forward with a fearsome look. “That’s not nice, Kelly.”
“I only had ingredients to make four,” she said, leaning back from his hovering face, trying to understand why he was acting so oddly.
“Girls, you’d better tell Auntie Kelly what happens when I don’t get my lemon pie.” Sam glared at her, but a muscle at the corner of his lips flickered.
“He gets mad,” Sadie shouted. She burst out laughing when Sam growled. “He has to have lemon pie.”
Even Emma was grinning as Sam loomed over her, hands outstretched, fingers wiggling.
“You look like some kind of crazy bear,” Kelly grumbled, growing more uncomfortable as he moved closer. “Everyone’s staring.”
“Pie,” he growled. “Lemon pie. Must have pie. Argh.”
Kelly laughed nervously. “Girls, what makes him stop this silliness?”
“Pie!” Sadie said. “Only pie. You have to get him some pie.”
“I can’t.” Kelly glanced down at Jacob Samuel, who lay asleep on her lap. A growl came very close to her ear. “Sam, stop it,” she said, heart thumping so loudly she thought everyone must hear. Around her, people grinned.
He moved so fast she had no time to back away.
“I’ll stop if you promise to make me pie,” he whispered, eyes dancing. “Tomorrow.”
“But I have to help Sheena at the travel agency—”
“Argh!” Sam’s growl sounded louder than ever, and it attracted several more children.
“Fine. I’ll make you a pie tomorrow. Now stop it,” she insisted.
“Not one pie. Three pies. Apple, lemon and, uh, strawberry,” he said.
“One pie. You’d better take it or leave it,” Kelly advised him with a glare.
“Three,” Sam demanded. His face moved to within an inch of hers. “Or I’ll kiss you right here in front of everyone.”
Did women still swoon? Kelly ordered her body not to show how much she wanted Sam to kiss her. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I’d dare a lot, Kelly Krause.” Then he leaned forward and planted a big smacker right on her lips.
Other women might not swoon, but Kelly did. Fortunately, she didn’t think she gave herself away because her arms were around Jacob Samuel. She did lean forward into the kiss then, realizing what she was doing, ordered herself back.
When she opened her eyes, she found Sam’s face mere millimeters away, eyes twinkling at her.
“Three pies,” he repeated.
“Give him the pies, Auntie Kelly,” Sadie yelled, laughing uproariously at his antics. “Give him the pies.”
“Fine.” Red-cheeked and utterly embarrassed to see the number of people gawking at them, Kelly only wanted this to end. But Sam deserved some comeuppance of his own. “You’ll get three pies,” she promised as she eased her hand free.
“Good.” He sat back on his haunches, looking supremely satisfied with himself.
“And this,” she added, so mad and eager for payback she acted without thinking, pulling him forward by his shirtfront and planting a loud smacking kiss on his startled mouth. “Now behave,” she ordered in a voice only he could hear.
Her shame was multiplied when around them people began to clap.
“I’m going home,” she said, her face burning.
“Nope. Canada Day is an all-day thing in Buffalo Gap. Nobody leaves early, especially not you.” Sam bowed at the crowd then waved them away. He turned to her with a shame-faced look. “Sorry. I guess I got carried away.”
“You think?” Kelly kept her head lowered so she couldn’t see the sly looks from the town’s busybodies.
“I just wanted to see the twins laughing again, carefree, happy. Like they used to be.” Sam’s quiet words chased away Kelly’s irritation in a flash. “Let’s escape all these looky-loos and go for a bike ride.” He jumped to his feet and held out a hand to Kelly.
“I don’t have a bike,” she reminded. “But the girls have theirs.”
“I brought Marina’s and Jake’s for us,” he told her. “And I borrowed a baby seat for this guy.” He lifted Jacob Samuel from her lap. “Come on, Kelly. Please? Let’s make a memory.”
With that comment and the twins chiding in the background, what could she do but agree? As they pedaled through town on their bikes, Sam leading then the twins, then Kelly, she thought the memory must have been God-sent just for her. The twins, giggling and laughing, Sam smiling as if he hadn’t a care in the world—she wondered what had changed him from the taciturn man of t
he last few weeks.
They returned to the park for supper with their parents. Then a small band gathered and began to play. Here and there all over the park, people got up and danced right where they were. The twins did, too, swinging each other back and forth, squealing with delight when Sam twirled them round for a fast number. Even her parents danced, though her father stumbled for a moment or two until his brain caught the rhythm.
“You promised me a dance, Kelly. Mom and Dad will watch the kids.” Sam held out his hand. Without a word, Kelly went into his arms, unprepared for the shock of sensation running through her when he pulled her close for a slow waltz.
“You’re a good dancer,” she said quietly, studying his face in the twilight. “Did Naomi like to dance?”
“No.” He stared at her. “She preferred to listen to the music.”
“Oh.” Kelly couldn’t think of one other thing to say, so she gave herself to the joy of the music, sharing it with Sam as they glided from one song into the next. A quick step seemed to go on forever as Sam caught her around the waist and swung her a little off the ground. Then she leaned and dipped, following his lead. By the end of it, she was breathless, but that didn’t have as much to do with the dance as it did with her escort.
“You’re a very good dancer,” he said, “but then I guess you do that a lot on the ship.”
Since he’d seldom asked her about her life aboard, Kelly studied him for a moment before answering.
“I dance some,” she told him. “Mostly when the ballroom dance teachers have a student who needs a partner.” Sam made a face and she laughed. “Yeah, like that.”
“Wanna sit for a bit while we wait for it to get dark enough for the fireworks?” he asked and she nodded, perfectly content to sit beside this wonderful man as long as he wished.
“Cold?” Sam touched her arm as if to check for himself then grimaced. “That was a dumb question. It was hot this afternoon but you never once took off your sweater. I’m starting to wonder if you’re cold-blooded, Kelly.”
