He forced his attention back to the pretty woman on his porch. Her forehead was creased with concern, as if she didn’t know whether he’d welcome her or not. He managed to get out, “I’m sorry about your brother.”
“I’m sorry about your buddy,” she said softly.
“Look, I’ve got to hose down, and then go in and shower and change. Let me wash off the keys and I’ll let you go in and wait for me in the living room.”
“Mind if I use your restroom while I’m here? And is it okay if Wolf comes in with me?”
Wolf? He stared at the pretentious mutt, then mentally shook himself and forced himself to smile at his unexpected, unwanted guest. “Of course not, but he looks like he just rolled in mud. I’ll hose him down while I’m at it if you’d like. Go on inside and get a drink of water or piece of my mother’s peach pie from the fridge too, if you want. When I’m done, we’ll talk.”
“That would be great. Thanks.” She handed him the wriggling little dog in exchange for the key.
Her face broke into a smile that he’d seen a thousand times, though not on her. Shame, anger, and grief washed over him. She looked so much like Adam it hurt. When had she gotten that worry line on her forehead, anyway? In all the pictures he’d seen of her, she looked sunny and happy. But then, he’d been happier before Adam died, too.
She was a reminder of everything he’d done wrong last year. She couldn’t stay; he couldn’t stand to be around her for long.
He’d clean up, read Adam’s letter — and send Amber on her way.
Amber’s hands trembled as she ran her fingers through her hair in the bathroom. Just seeing Samuel had done this to her. If he were to ever kiss her, she’d probably faint dead away. Pathetic.
She’d had a crush on him for four years, though. Ever since Adam had sent that first picture of him standing next to Samuel and two other guys in fatigues. She hoped this visit with him would either make her realize she didn’t really have a crush on him, after all — or realize he was the man she wanted to be with. And, if it was the latter, then she’d just have to help him realize the same thing.
No problem. Piece of cake.
Ha.
Samuel had wordlessly handed Wolf to her, along with a towel, when he’d strode through the inside garage door off the kitchen while wearing pants, but no shirt, towel slung around his neck. He was currently showering upstairs, something that Amber really needed to do as well. Not with him, of course, though that brought up some interesting thoughts. Her face warmed in a blush, and she shook her head.
Wolf looked up with a quizzical expression at her. He barked as she rubbed him with the towel.
“Okay, little taskmaster.” She finished rubbing him dry.
With the mud washed off and his fur dry and fluffy, he no longer looked like a walking mud puddle. Now he looked more like a mix between a Shih Tzu and some kind of little terrier, maybe a Tibetan terrier like one she’d had growing up. He was light brown in color with white patches that made him look like paint had been splattered on him, freckling him.
Amber had taken Samuel up on his offer of a glass of water, which she’d finished in just a few gulps. She’d filled a bowl with water for Wolf, and he’d drunk deeply, too.
Her stomach growled, so she’d practically inhaled a piece of peach pie. Best. Pie. Ever.
She hadn’t shared, even though Wolf had stared at her with wide, beseeching eyes that said he was totally starving. Well, he might be, at that.
She rinsed her plate and fork and placed them in the sink. Then she said, “Come on, Wolf,” and led the way into the living room. Sinking into an armchair, she pulled a stick of jerky from her backpack and opened it. Wolf stood at attention. She laughed and broke off half of the stick. She smiled at him. “You have to do a trick for this one. Sit.”
He plopped his rump down on the floor and looked at her expectantly.
“Here you go.”
He politely took the treat and, well, wolfed it.
When he was done, he looked up hopefully.
“Good dog, Wolf.” She raised the other half up high and said, “Now, Up.”
He shot up — like a shark or piranha — and his teeth chomped around the half stick of jerky.
“Wow.” Amber jerked back her hand and studied him. “I think I’m going to change the name of that trick to Shark Attack.”
Above them, the shower sounds ceased. Now Samuel would be toweling off — an image she fought to erase from her mind — and getting dressed. And then coming down here.
Her heart started to pound again as adrenaline rushed through her system. The entire last year since Adam’s death had come down to this moment — waiting for Samuel in order to have him read Adam’s letter.
She heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Breathe, Amber. Just breathe.
Samuel stopped at the bottom of the stairs and caught her gaze.
His eyes were a silvery gray, a color she’d always loved. His face and body were all hard, muscular angles. He looked handsome online — but he was amazing in person.
He was wearing snug jeans and a gray Moonchuckle Bay T-shirt that looked well-worn and comfortable. In other words, he looked fantastic.
It was a good thing she was sitting down, because her knees might have gone weak.
He seemed as dumbstruck as she was. Was that because he thought she looked prettier in person, or because he was sorry she’d come? She didn’t know, but she could hardly breathe.
He stepped toward her, and sat in the chair across the coffee table from hers.
After a long pause, he nodded at the letter in her hands.
Right to it, then. No chit-chat or small talk. She looked down to find herself clutching the envelope, crinkling it. With a nervous laugh, she straightened it out and handed it across to him. “I know this is unconventional, but then so was Adam.” Her voice caught again, and he looked at her cautiously. Maybe he was afraid she’d cry. Who knew? Maybe she would. Probably she would.
Breathe, Amber. She did and regained control.
He studied the envelope, turning it over several times. She knew what he’d see — his name written in Adam’s strong handwriting and Adam’s name in the upper-left corner above an address of Heaven (I hope).
Samuel’s lips tightened and he closed his eyes. He seemed to be as emotional about this as she was. That couldn’t be good. Maybe he’d cry.
He opened his eyes and drew in a deep breath. Pulling out a pocketknife, he sliced neatly along the edge. Putting the pocketknife away, he hesitated again.
She wanted to tell him it wouldn’t bite, but she was afraid she couldn’t say it without her voice cracking. This wasn’t a time for jokes, nervous or otherwise. She kept her mouth shut.
The little dog didn’t, though. Wolf barked.
Samuel jumped and glared at the dog. “Quiet, you.”
The dog settled his little body back against her leg.
The bark had, however, succeeded in getting Samuel moving again. He pulled out two pages and set the envelope on the table. Sitting back, he started to read.
Quietly, and to himself. She didn’t want to be a pest, but Adam’s written instructions had been specific. “You’re supposed to read it aloud.”
He nodded. “That’s what the first paragraph says, too. More specifically, it says, ‘I know you won’t follow instructions because you never do, so I’ll tell you a second time. Read this for the first time aloud to my sister.’ ”
“He knew you well.”
“We knew each other well. He was my brother, too. War will do that to guys.”
“I’m sure,” she said softly. She petted Wolf while she waited for Samuel to go on.
He settled back against the chair, raised the pages back up, then started reading out loud.
“Sam, you’re my best buddy ever. We’ve been through hell together, we’ve saved each other’s lives—”
He paused and she wanted to ask why, but instead she forced herself to remain quiet. He c
leared his throat before continuing.
“I’ve left you my Call of Duty game you liked to play so much. It won’t do me much good now. I’m not sure what games they’ll be playing in heaven, but if I’m lucky enough to get in, I’m sure they’ll be entertaining.”
Samuel gave a subdued chuckle and murmured, “Stupid game.”
She smiled. That was just like Adam. She missed her brother so much that her heart squeezed painfully.
“Since we’re guys, we usually didn’t talk about mushy stuff like love, but, hey, I love you, man. Like the brother you became. And so I’m going to ask you a favor, as a brother. I asked my sister to be here because I wanted her to hear this, too. Now that my mom has died, I need you to take care of her like you did me. Protect her. Don’t let anything happen to her.”
Sam paused again, ran a hand over his face. Dropping his hand into his lap, he looked into her eyes. “He wants me to protect you?”
She barely dared breathe and said, quietly, “It’s news to me, too.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you need protection?”
Her breath caught. She wasn’t about to tell Samuel about her stepfather. Not until she knew him better than she did right now. She’d give him just part of the truth. “After our mother died, there was someone who started stalking me.”
“Who?”
She closed her eyes. “Read the rest of the letter first. Let’s see what else he says.”
The rest of the letter reminisced about the different raids Adam and Samuel had gone on, the things Adam had learned from Samuel, and the brotherhood he felt. It ended with: “Remember — take care of Amber. It’s my last wish, bro. Make sure she stays safe. For at least thirty days. And, Amber, you have to stay by Sam for that thirty days. Please. It’s my last request. My dying wish. The Tin Man. ”
“The Tin Man?” she asked. She’d never known Adam to call himself that.
“Yeah.” Samuel sighed and looked toward the ceiling. “I was the Scarecrow, he was the Tin Man. Conway was the Cowardly Lion. Unfortunate nicknames we picked up after watching The Wizard of Oz one night.”
“So, my brother needed a heart, you needed a brain, and Conway needed courage?” She didn’t get it.
“It was an inside joke. We were in a place where we all needed courage, heart, and brains.” He sounded drained, as if the emotion of the letter had pulled something out of him.
He turned to her again. “How am I supposed to protect you? We don’t even live in the same town.”
“Actually,” she said, “I’ve been on the run for the last year. I don’t live anywhere anymore. I can stay in town for the thirty days that Adam asked me to stay near you.”
“You can’t stay here with me.”
Disappointed, she nodded. She was practically a total stranger, after all. “That’s okay. Really. I’ll go stay at the women’s shelter. Hopefully they’ll let me stay for a month.”
Bigfoot’s Shoes
SAMUEL STARED AT THE WOMAN across from him as she rose to her feet and picked up the silly little dog.
He hardly knew her, but the fluid grace with which she stood reminded him of Adam. It would drive him crazy to have her around — but he felt oddly protective of her. Thanks, Adam. Thanks a lot.
He didn’t feel protective just because of Adam’s request — though that would be enough to do it. It was the look in her eyes that said she’d seen it all and wasn’t surprised that he wouldn’t let her stay.
He stood slowly, putting the folded letter back into the envelope. “There is no women’s shelter in Moonchuckle Bay.”
“Do they call it a Monster Shelter or something?”
“We’ve never had any need for one, no matter the name. If a woman needs protecting, she’s taken in.”
“Except when she’s not.” She sighed. “I guess I can try to get into the Wildwood Hotel.”
He shook his head. They didn’t cater to humans. “They rarely have a vacancy. They have a waiting list for months.”
“The Marriott or Best Western, then. I have a few bucks saved up and I’m a street artist. I’m sure I can make quite a bit just painting in Town Square.” She put down the dog and picked up her purse. Holding out her hand, she smiled. “It’s good to finally meet you, Samuel Winston. You were a good friend to my brother. He always spoke very highly of you.”
He’d been a friend to her, too — until he couldn’t handle the guilt of corresponding with her any longer. He should have handled it better. He could see the pain in her eyes.
He took her hand, and the touch shook him. It was as if his wolf recognized her — and wanted her. Sam had always liked her, too, but he’d never dreamed her touch would be so electrifying.
Her eyes widened as if she felt it, too, and she pulled her hand back. “I’ll see you around.”
She headed for the door.
“Wait!” he commanded.
Slowly, she turned. “Yes?”
He couldn’t let her go. She felt like Adam. And she felt like a woman he hadn’t been able to get off his mind, a woman he’d been sorry to turn his back on. He couldn’t get over that, but he could at least honor Adam’s wish. He could do that. For thirty days.
He nodded. “You can stay here, at least for a few days. Under two conditions.”
She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. Stubborn, like her brother. “What are those conditions?”
“First you let me buy you some new shoes and maybe some new clothes.”
She looked down at her ragged shoes. “I happen to like these shoes.”
“I do, too. Very much. And I’m hoping you’ll let me buy them off you.”
“All right.” She laughed. “If you’re taking me into town, I’d like a tour. I saw some of the businesses when I arrived in town, but I’d like to see more.”
“I can do that. After you’re wearing the new shoes.” He motioned to the dog. “I have a really big kennel in the backyard if you’d like to put your dog in there.”
“Actually, Wolf is a stray. But I’m keeping him until we find his owners.”
“You’ll keep him in the kennel, though, right?”
“For now.” She smiled sweetly. “I’ll need to buy some dog food, too.”
He nodded. “And we’ll find a respectable couple to take you in. It’s not good for your reputation to stay here with me.”
She tilted her head. “Why not? Do you have dishonorable intentions?”
“Of course not,” he sputtered. “It’s just that … people talk.”
“Like I care about that.”
“I do.” That made him smile. Some bad reputation might make his parents reconsider Olivia.
Samuel was right. The kennel in his backyard was palatial, complete with a doghouse that was way too big for Wolf. The little dog sat in the doorway of said doghouse and gave her baleful eyes. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she promised.
Then she climbed into Samuel’s truck. She wrinkled her nose at the faint but foul odor. “Skunk?”
“Something like that,” he replied, glancing at her and frowning. “Hopefully it’ll fade by morning.”
“Let’s hope.” She clicked her seat belt into place and tossed her backpack onto the floorboard. “Okay, where to first?”
He shot another glance at her feet, and she laughed. “Do you have a tennis shoe fetish, or what?”
“No,” he insisted. “But those shoes gave up the ghost five hundred miles ago.”
She studied them. The hole near her big toe had gotten larger, revealing half of her toe. “Yeah,” she admitted. “But they have sentimental value.”
“Then frame them.”
“Watch it. I’m letting you buy me new shoes, but only because you’re insisting. I am perfectly happy with my shoes. And you don’t want to antagonize me when we’re barely an hour into Adam’s required thirty days.”
He put the truck into drive and pulled out, not responding to that.
They passed Play-Acting
Drive and Imaginary Friend Way. When he pulled onto Mane Street, she caught sight of a large sign announcing that Moonchuckle Bay Studios was just three miles away. “I’d really like to see the studio.”
He glanced at her and shrugged. “Okay. I’ve got the afternoon off.”
He pulled into the parking lot of a shoe store but, in keeping with the town’s theme, it wasn’t a standard chain store. This one was called Bigfoot’s Shoes and there was a larger-than-life cutout of Bigfoot towering over the entrance; at least larger-than—human-sized. But who knew how big Bigfoot would be, if he was real?
“This town really likes its monster movie status, doesn’t it?”
“It pulls in a lot of tourist money, and townsfolk always like that.”
“I guess.” She opened the door of his truck to get out. It was fitting for the town — monster sized! Before her feet touched the ground, Samuel came around, put his hands on her waist, and lifted her down easily.
Where his hands were touching her, she instantly felt a combination of lightning and wildfire. She wondered if he felt it too. His eyes widened, and he jerked his hands back.
That answered that question. There was definitely an attraction between them, and he was feeling it as much as she was.
He took hold of the truck door and let her walk past before shutting it firmly.
Her face blazed with warmth. Wow. If she’d been wondering whether there was anything between them, she knew now, without a word being spoken. Before the situation could get any more awkward, she slung her backpack over her shoulder.
“I wonder what size shoes he wears?” she said, pointing to Bigfoot’s huge feet.
“A hundred and three.” Samuel opened the door and motioned her in.
“Thanks.” She stepped inside and froze in place. It was like walking into a wooded forest — the kind of place that reminded her of that controversial grainy video of Bigfoot. In fact, there was a TV playing that very clip overhead. She shook her head in amazement. “This is quite the place.”
“Yeah. Move toward the back, and it opens up into a clearing.”
The Artist Cries Wolf Page 3
