by Annie Jones
“Nothing!” Nic stepped out from under his arm.
“Wasn't tossing out an accusation. I like seeing you two out together. You make a nice couple.” Claire laughed, then waved one hand toward Sam. “Didn't get a chance to tell you last night. I loved your sermon.”
“Thank you, Claire. Hope this means we'll see you and the boys at services?”
“Count on it.” She tipped her head then raised an eyebrow. “But you can also count that it isn't over with Lee and his following. Some people will never accept the likes of Sam Moss as the minister of our church.”
“There are problems with me and my upbringing that run deep in this town. I respect that and am willing to address it, but I won't compromise my beliefs to make a few people find my presence here more palatable.”
“Good for you. You have more than a fair share of supporters now.” Claire nodded. “By the way, don't let me get away without telling you how dear I found it, you bringing Willa up last night. Just precious.”
Sam grinned.
“You did the right thing acknowledging her in front of everyone last night.”
Nic set her jaw. “Bet it set quite a few tongues wagging around punch bowls and Christmas trees last night, though.”
“Oh, let 'em talk.” Claire feigned a sour expression. “In the end what can they say really but that soon as he found out about her, Sam started doing right by his child?”
“They can say a lot more than that, and you of all people know it, Claire.” Anger and hurt clashed in Nic's brown eyes.
“Me?”
“You were at that New Year's Eve party when my daddy walked in and found me with that boy Reggie invited home from college.” Nic shut her eyes and grimaced as if the words burned in her throat. “I don't even know his name and he never knew mine, but everyone in town knows there is that small chance that he is the biological father of my child.”
“So, you take a test,” Claire shrugged in that small gesture gave them their first glimpse of how small this was to most people.
“Happy to do that, but no matter what the results, I'm Willa’s father.”
She looked at Sam and gave a sweet, sad smile.
He pulled her into a tight hug that he hoped would say what words never could.
“But you are together now.” Claire's voice literally lilted. “Given any thought to my idea about...you know?”
She began to hum the wedding march.
Sam gazed into Nic's tear-bathed eyes. “As a matter of fact, if we could ever find a few minutes alone—”
“Say no more. I gotta git anyway. Reggie's mama is probably waiting out on the porch for me to drive up this very minute.” She started to roll the window up, then stopped and poked her nose above the glass. “Oh, one more thing, Reverend. We saw some snowbirds this morning. Kids practically covered the front lawn with crumbs hoping to get some nibbles. And we weren't the only ones.”
Sam laughed. “Thank you for telling me, Claire. For everything.”
“Merry Christmas, y'all!” She waved then spun off in a cloud of dust.
“That makes, what? Our fourth report of a sighting this morning?”
“I think some of them might be sparrows,” Nic warned.
“Not me.” He shook his head. “Besides, how can you say that? You saw a couple yourself.”
“Ours were real snowbirds.” She tipped her chin up.
“Real. Yes. Just like we're a real family now and we know it for sure.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Except for one bothersome little detail.”
“Sam?” She cocked her head.
He couldn't tell if he read apprehension or anticipation in her reaction. He decided not to try to figure it out. “I broke your heart nine years ago and made a mess at my first attempt to do this a few days ago. This time I want to do it right.”
She bit her lower lip.
He got down on one knee, right there on Persuasion Street somewhere between the church and the Dorsey house.
“Sam, we're sort of out in the open here.”
“And that's the way I want it. The way it should be. Nic.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box. “Would you—”
“Yes!”
“You didn't let me finish.”
“If you are going to marry into the Dorsey family, sweetheart, not finishing your sentences is something you'll have to get used to.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him again and again.
“I guess I can do that.” He returned her kisses. “How about a New Year's Eve wedding?”
“A week from now?”
“Why not? Like Claire said, we have a chance to set everything right. Why not start with New Year's Eve?”
“I love you, Sam Moss.”
“I love you, too, Nicolette. I always have and I always will.” They pulled each other into a deep embrace, gazed into each other’s eyes then shared a long overdue kiss that made the years and the hurt and the fears of never finding each other again melt completely away.
And from the bushes a few feet away, a flock of snowbirds took flight.
