WindSwept Narrows: # 1 Samantha Elliott

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “You forgot a little bling,” Logan said after a few minutes, feeling his stomach knot up as he reached into his pocket and brought out a small jewel case. He handed it to Sam, aware of the silence from the back seat of the car.

  Sam lost her voice. She swallowed hard and felt the weight of the velvet case in one palm, the other covering it like a protective shell.

  “What did you do, Logan?” She finally asked, still holding the velvet case surrounded by both palms.

  “What I should have done weeks ago, Sam,” Logan looked at her small protective palms and laughed. “Sam, it won’t bite…besides, the audience is on the edge of their seats.”

  “It’s damn difficult to not be caught up in the drama,” Ian declared smartly. “I can’t imagine you being unprepared when you married her. Thinking of you as unprepared for anything just boggles the mind.”

  “Little brothers are still annoying, twenty years later,” Logan announced wryly. “Sam?”

  “Perhaps it would be best when we arrive,” Anya said carefully. “We will go into the party and you and Sam can open it, together.”

  Sam just sat immobile, her hands cupping the little box protectively.

  “Alright,” Logan said softly. “Thank you, Anya…we’ll do that.”

  Anya held up one finger when Ian opened his mouth as they left the SUV, a stern look in her eyes had him frown but comply. He nodded once to his brother before walking with Anya into the brightly lit and busy lodge.

  “Sam, what is wrong? It’s just a piece of jewelry,” Logan undid his seat belt, popped hers and climbed from the SUV. He was around to the passenger side quickly, pulling the door wide and letting the warm summer weekend to surround them. Logan gently lifted her palm and took the velvet case from her cold hands.

  “I don’t know,” she answered honestly, wide almost frantic eyes meeting his. “Logan, I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

  “Are you afraid to wear my ring?” Logan wasn’t sure where to go with this because he wasn’t sure what the issue was.

  “I…I didn’t think about it…”

  “Shake it, Sam,” Logan said softly, putting the velvet case back into her palm. “We…are in everything together, Sam.”

  She did as he said, her eyes going from the case to his gaze and back again. Her mind told her it should not make noise. Sam swallowed and carefully lifted the lid. A white gold band with a slim oval diamond was nestled between two pillows of velvet. The noise came from a large white gold band that wasn’t tethered. Her head tilted slightly, shaking fingers lifting the larger ring. A slow, peaceful smile filled her face when he offered his palm to her. She slid the large ring in place, raising her eyes to his and very aware of the hot moisture behind her lashes.

  “You’re gonna mess up your make-up,” he whispered hoarsely, taking the other ring and sliding it onto her finger, closing them around his before he leaned closer and kissed her. Gently. Sealing the gesture with a promise and a kiss. “How about some dancing, Mrs. Sheffield?”

  “You are a wonderfully patient man, Logan,” Sam stopped him, framing his face with her palms. “Thank you…the ring is perfect.” She kissed him and slid to the ground.

  “I have to admit,” he began as they walked toward the Lodge. “When your mother told me how she had failed to interest you in girl bling…I had already bought the rings and had a lively debate with myself for the last couple days.”

  Sam hugged his arm tightly. “I just can’t picture you in doubt, Logan.”

  “Yeah…it’s a new thing for me, too,” he admitted, gaze up and sweeping the throngs of people milling about and being slowly herded to the specially erected canopy. His hand rose when he spotted his friend, guiding Sam through the crowd to the pale haired man. “You’re looking seriously less than festive, Sam…this could get confusing. Samantha, my old friend, Sam Franklin.”

  “I got a blonde who thinks everything is going to go wrong and will not slow down,” Sam said through his teeth. “Sorry…nice to meet you, Samantha. I still can’t picture you married.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s mutual,” Logan knew what the plan was for the evening because they had shopped for rings together.

  “Who is the blonde?” Samantha asked quietly, looking around the crowded canopy. “Maybe I can help.”

  “Near the kitchen…Bella…you can’t miss her, she’s the frazzled looking one.”

  Samantha wandered around the large room, watching people and seeing one she knew. “Kate?”

  “Sam!” Kate left Dylan’s side and hugged her friend. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “I was wondering if there’s stuff I can do to help,” Sam looked around. “Logan is with a Sam Franklin…who says Bella needs help.”

  Kate sighed. “Bella needs a tranquilizer,” she said resolutely. “Come with me,” she took Sam’s palm and wove her way though people.

  Sam watched a beautiful blonde in a short strapless green dress, the skirt moving as frantically as her hands did ordering people around.

  “Where’s the second in command?” Sam asked quietly, looking around.

  “Not being allowed to do her job,” Kate said simply, her eyes catching on another redhead coming in their direction. “Good…reinforcements,” she raised her palm. “Chloe Oliver…Samantha Elliott…”

  “We have got to get Bella out of here,” Chloe said with a low growl. “Hi, Samantha…nice to meet you.”

  “Alright…so what’s the answer?”

  “We hijack her,” Chloe said as if it were the most simple answer in the world. “Stephanie!” Chloe put two fingers to her lips and let loose with a whistle, the second in command at her side in a few seconds. “We’re going to get her out of here…are you ready?”

  “I am so ready,” Stephanie looked around at the staff. “We keep trying to tell her it’s all under control…”

  “Isabel worked with you, Stephanie,” Kate said easily. “We know you and the staff can handle this weekend.”

  “We seriously love the boss, Kate…but she’s making us nuts!”

  “I know…I know…” Kate and Chloe moved toward Bella. “Sam, come behind us, we’ve done this before.”

  Drawing on training from bygone days, Chloe and Kate came up on either side of Bella and took a firm hold on her arms, lifting her feet off the floor and walking with her toward the main room.

  “Hey! Hey! You guys…” Bella’s eyes went frantically to the buffet that was disappearing in the brisk walk. “Putmedown! Damn it…grrrrr!”

  “Shut up, Bella…we warned you,” Chloe said without remorse. “Oh, meet our new friend, Samantha Elliott.”

  “Actually it’s Sheffield now…why are you so frazzled, Bella? You have excellent staff. I’ve been watching them with the guests,” Sam continued walking with them as they headed in the direction where Logan and his friend were. It was evident by the look on Sam Franklin’s face that Bella was very important to him. A man with dark brown hair had joined the pair, one brow up and aimed at Chloe.

  “I know I have a good staff,” Bella felt the floor beneath her feet, her hands up and straightening her dress. “You two…”

  “Have been your friends long enough to know what’s best for you,” Kate told her without guilt. “You are supposed to be a hostess this weekend, Bella. Not the chief cook. I should have sent you off to how to be a hostess school.”

  Bella inhaled long and slow, pale lashes closed over a pair of expressive blue eyes. “Okay…okay…I’m better now…” She felt the pair of palms on her shoulders.

  “Things are under control, Bella,” Sam said quietly amidst the noise of people around them. “I wouldn’t let our weekend go bad, honey, I promise.”

  “So…onto more introductions,” Chloe said with a bright smile. “Simon Oliver, my husband, this is Samantha Sheffield…hey, you know a Sheffield…”

  “Chloe, my adorable wife, we had dinner with Logan,” Simon said with a crooked grin, pulling the redhead to his side. “Please
d to meet you, Samantha.” Simon kept his curiosity to himself. Logan made no mention whatsoever of being married when they had dinner on his first Friday in the area. He hadn’t missed the look in Logan’s eyes when Samantha returned to his side and he could easily understand those emotions sweeping through you like a torrential spring storm.

  “Come over to the owner’s table,” Sam Franklin suggested, his arm around Bella’s waist, guiding them into the huge canopy where the dinner tables were established. A very long table at the front had name plates already in place, with his and Bella’s in the center, the microphone behind them waiting for the announcement.

  Samantha smiled at Anya, glad their seats were together and tried to attach names to faces as she was introduced. Logan was about to seat her when she stopped, one palm up.

  “Excuse me!” Sam moved swiftly through the people milling around tables, her palm up and waving wildly. “Mother!”

  “Oh, darling, you look fantastic!” Elizabeth Elliott nodded in approval, her hand resting lightly on her husband’s arm. “This is incredible. The food here is amazing.”

  “We’re at the front, but there are empty seats near us,” Sam hugged her mother and father. “I just wanted to say hi…”

  “Oh, we’ll be along shortly. I told you father I wanted to look at some of these paintings.”

  “I didn’t think we had any empty wall space,” Morgan said with a wink at his daughter.

  “Well, I might just build another wall,” her mother said pertly, leading him off with a chuckle from Samantha.

  Sam moved through the people again, sliding into the chair next to Logan. “Mother is browsing the paintings. Dad thinks she’s going to build an addition to the house just so she can have more walls for them.”

  Diana laughed softly. “Tell her I truly appreciate that she likes my paintings that much.” She sat slightly to the side, a pair of strong arms around her from behind.

  “Oh, you’ll have no peace if I tell her I know the artist,” Sam said with a laugh. “I already picked out three I’m going after.”

  “I hope they are not the ones I am after,” Anya said with a grin.

  Laughter filled the table, the conversation falling off when Sam Franklin stood up, checking his watch. “We told people six and it’s slightly after. Our table is full of our friends, so…here goes nothing…” he moved to the microphone, lifting it off the stand and tapping it lightly. He knew it worked because Chloe and Isabel had been on it all day to make certain everything was working perfectly.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Sam began loudly, waiting several seconds for the chatter to die down. “First I want to welcome you to the First Annual Anniversary Celebration of the Lodge at Sammamish. We know it could never have happened without you all, patrons, friends and guests. You might or might not know me, but the woman of the hour is Bella Jeffries. Your community is all the richer because of the innovative programs she began when she bought the lodge. From the apprenticeship program, to the on-site daycare for employees and guests alike to the dormitory rooms for staff without housing in the area, all of these things have helped boost the economy and the self esteem of people who will continue to flourish and enrich our community. Please give a generous welcome to Bella Jefferies,” Sam stood back, the microphone in one hand as he joined the applause.

  Bella hadn’t previewed his speech. He promised it would be short. She felt the heat stinging her cheeks as she stood up and moved forward. Her palm was out for the microphone but Sam shook his head slightly and took her hand.

  “Before I turn this over to Bella…I want to do one little thing,” Sam reached into his pocket, a collective gasp heard around the large room when the deep purple velvet case was withdrawn. “I was advised by a very smart redhead that I should do this in public…to hopefully avoid a rejection,” he opened the case and carried Bella’s suddenly shaking fingers to his lips. “Will you marry me, Bella Jeffries?”

  Bella felt the air leave her lungs and she wasn’t sure where her voice went so she looked up into his eyes and nodded rapidly. Laughter rippled around her followed by loud applause. She felt the ring slide onto her finger seconds before she threw her arms around his neck, promising to kill him later even as she kissed him soundly.

  Logan’s gaze shifted from the happy couple to Sam once the short welcome was over. “Sam…what’s wrong?” He asked again.

  Her head shook quickly. “Nothing.”

  Logan sighed, pulled the white hanky from his pocket and held it out to her, his finger drawn down the stream of tears on her cheeks. He looked at the surprise on her face, thinking for a minute and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

  Bigger surprise, her fingers moved to open her small bag and pull out her phone. Fingers tapped over the surface and he saw the small personal calendar pop up on the screen. Again she turned a pair of thankful large watery green eyes on him.

  “I thought I was going nuts, Logan,” she whispered gratefully. “Damn hormones.”

  People gathered their food and conversations began. Some across the table, some side to side and all filled with humor, no matter the topic.

  “I’m going to look at some paintings,” Sam said quietly, shaking her head when Logan moved to rise. “No, it’s okay…you’re enjoying the guy talk thing. I’ll find you in a bit…” She promised and headed to the main lobby.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Samantha wandered along the corridor and into the large meeting room decked out like a gallery. She noticed at least four different artists, and all presented varying scenes from around the Puget Sound area. From tug boats to valleys of produce stretched across the canvas to towering peaks covered with snow. She pulled the BUY tag from a large cluster of sunflowers taking center stage and rising majestically from a large glass vase. She wandered into a smaller room, the scenes there she recognized as mostly from various parts of Europe. Peaceful and serene, Sam had to smile sadly. A lot of what she had seen was far from idyllic.

  Her palm came up and pulled a tag from a beautiful harbor scene, cobbled streets, pristine white sails and brilliant red roof lines.

  “Hello, Samantha.”

  She saw the reflection in the glass of the painting. She felt an odd tightening in her middle but couldn’t place the unfamiliar voice as she turned slowly.

  “Hello.” As she had done for the last two weeks, Sam allowed the person greeting her to guide their conversational direction.

  The man was slightly shorter than her, dressed as the other men in the Lodge, black tux and pristine shirt. His hairline was receding and a pale blond. Sam appraised the dark grey eyes watching her intently, wishing her mind would come up with a name.

  “I’ve been waiting to hear from you,” he said cautiously, his pace matching hers in its slow meander around the various paintings and easels.

  “I can’t imagine why I would be in touch with you,” she answered vaguely, instincts telling her to keep away from him. To get away from him. The urge was so strong, she had to keep herself physically from running. A swift flash of the beach popped into her mind, a long stretch of sand and rocks covered with kelp and moss.

  “To discuss what happened on Friday morning,” he answered, tentatively feeling his way through the conversation. Lashes narrowed as he watched her expression, her gesture vague.

  Sam shrugged. “I was busy Friday morning.”

  “Oh?”

  “Why are you so curious about my personal life?”

  “You know,” he began slowly, his hand out and on her arm, stopping her from walking further. She had been slowly weaving her way back to the dining area where the only table still crowded, was the owner’s table. “I have been speculating why the police haven’t been to see me, Samantha.”

  “Take your hand off me,” she pushed the words through her teeth, instincts sending warnings though her like quick silver. He ignored her.

  “I think we should talk,” he responded flatly, turning her slightly toward the wide pathways into the
gardens.

  Sam had no idea where her actions came from. She only knew it was necessary and vital that she act. Her free hand crossed her body, palm flat and catching him hard and swiftly in the center of his chest. It was enough to break the biting hold on her arm, sending him staggering back.

  Chloe had seen the gesture that was clearly unwelcome on Sam’s face and tapped Logan lightly on the arm, her nod and gaze enough to send his eyes in the right direction. He was up almost immediately, crossing the large room and tall enough to see Sam’s defense. She took a quick step back at the same time a man wearing a blue blazer came to her side.

  “Is this man bothering you, Ma’am?”

  “Yes,” the word came out low and seething. “He…he tried to drag me into the gardens…”

  “Sam,” Logan only spoke her name, her eyes up and her feet swift over the small distance to step thankfully into his open arms. His palm caressed gently over the neatly woven braid, his head bent but dark eyes fierce on the man shaking off the hands of the security guards.

  “What’s going on?” Sam and Bella came out of the dining area.

  “A complaint, Mr. Franklin,” the guard nodded to the bristling man straightening his tux with as much dignity as he could gather.

  “Keep your hands off me. I’m going, but we will talk, Samantha,” he moved to make a blustering exit until the guard stepped into his path.

  “Just let him go,” she whispered, looking from the guard to Sam Franklin. “Please. I just want to enjoy the party,” she clung tightly to Logan’s arm, wincing at the sharp pain in her head.

  Sam Franklin and Logan exchanged looks. A faint nod from Logan, sent a clearer nod from Sam Franklin to the guard who obligingly stepped aside.

  “See him to the exit, Morrison,” Sam said quietly.

  “Stay away from my wife, Strang. Or your next office run will be through the police station,” Logan warned chillingly.

  Carson Strang stopped and leaned a little closer to an immobile Logan. “You won’t go to the police, Sheffield. You don’t want the truth known.”