Samantha's Gift

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Samantha's Gift Page 8

by Valerie Hansen


  He didn’t speak until they reached the dessert table. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For getting me away from your mother.”

  Rachel chuckled softly. “You’re not away from her yet. Mom can be very persistent.”

  “So I’ve gathered. Between her and Samantha, it looks like you and I will have our hands full.”

  She handed him two small plates and balanced three others herself. “No pun intended, but we already do—and I’m not talking about this cake.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Life in a small town. I tried to warn you about it before. You’ll manage okay if you remember that only part of whatever you hear is true. Think of the rest as misunderstanding, embellishment, wishful thinking or downright lies. Mom usually falls into the ‘wishful thinking’ category.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Plenty. For instance, if you were foolish enough to stop by my place this afternoon when the others do, you’d just provide more grist for the rumor mill.”

  “I see. And that would come between you and Craig?”

  If Rachel hadn’t been holding the dessert plates she’d have thrown her hands into the air in frustration. She did whirl to face Sean. “No! I already told you. There’s nothing between me and Craig. It was over long ago.”

  “Then, why did he try to sit by you in church this morning?”

  “What…? How…?”

  “Your mother told me. She can be very informative.”

  “Terrific. Did she bother to mention that I didn’t stay with them after he got there?”

  “No. She left that part out. What happened?”

  “I refused to be manipulated.”

  “I see.”

  Rachel arched an eyebrow as she studied his face. “Somehow, I doubt you do.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. It does prove that my first impression of him was right. The man’s still interested in you. Otherwise, why did he act jealous when he saw us together? And why would he purposely face rejection by trying to sit with you and your mother this morning?”

  “You’re beginning to sound just like her.”

  “Sociable?”

  “No, crazy.”

  Sean laughed. “You’re not the first person who’s told me that. And I doubt you’ll be the last.”

  Rachel had never dreamed Sean would ignore her well-meant warning and show up at her house, anyway. True, Samantha’s insistence that he come along had undoubtedly played a big part in his decision. What he wasn’t considering, however, was what Rachel might have to endure as a result of his stubbornness.

  To make matters worse, Hannah had opted to drop Samantha off to play with the dog first, then make a quick trip to take Martha home before returning to pick up the little girl.

  “Okay. Outside,” Rachel ordered when she realized she and Sean were about to be left alone with no one but the child for a chaperone. “Everybody on the front porch. Now.”

  Samantha’s whining protests were not enough to change her mind. Only Muffin ignored the marching orders.

  Acting pleased and relaxed, Sean sauntered outside and made himself at home on the glider, while Rachel plunked herself down on the top porch step with the little dachshund and Samantha. When the dog finally stopped trying to lick her face and rolled over in blissful submission, the child started scratching Schatzy’s tummy.

  “Is it always this hot this time of year?” Sean asked.

  “No. Lots of times it’s hotter.” Rachel eyed the black sedan parked noticeably in her driveway. “It’s your fault we have to sit out here.”

  “So the neighbors won’t get the wrong impression, you mean?”

  “Exactly.”

  Sean chuckled softly to himself. “Listening to you talk about Serenity makes me feel like I’ve been zapped back to the 1950s. I can’t believe anyplace is actually as antiquated as you say this one is. Not these days.”

  “We aren’t backward here, if that’s what you mean. Maybe I am being too sensitive about gossip, but remember, I do teach impressionable children. I’m also a product of my mother’s upbringing, so I’m bound to be at least half a bubble out of plumb.”

  “Half a what?”

  “You know. Like, two sandwiches short of a picnic? Three bricks short of a load? A few squares shy of a whole quilt?”

  When he continued to look confused, she explained further, gesturing for emphasis. “Picture a carpenter’s level. The bubble inside the glass capsule has to be right in the middle, between the marks, to ensure that whatever he’s building isn’t crooked or leaning. Half a bubble out of plumb means ‘not quite normal.”’

  Sean grinned. “That I can understand.”

  “I thought you would.”

  “Of course, if you’d listened to my professors you wouldn’t think any of us were normal. That’s a pretty subjective term.” He grew pensive. “If you were to ask my family, they’d swear they were the normal ones and I was the oddball.”

  “I take it you disagree.”

  “Yeah.”

  A scowl knit his brow, and Rachel could see the muscles of his jaw clenching. Apparently, their innocent conversation had touched a tender spot. “Want to tell me about it, Doc?”

  “Mutual psychoanalysis?” Sean began to lose his angry look. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not? You might feel better if you unloaded.”

  “What makes you think I have anything to unload?”

  “Your expression. Your attitude.” Rachel smiled sweetly. “The way your mood changes the minute you mention your family.”

  “It’s that obvious?”

  “Sticks out like a sore thumb. How long have you been estranged from them?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that strongly. We just don’t see eye to eye. I figured it would be best for everybody if I got away from them, at least for a while.”

  “Your parents?”

  “And my brothers,” he said with a slow nod.

  “They’re still in Cleveland?”

  Another nod. “Dad runs a hardware store in the Heights. My brothers work for him.”

  “Maybe they’re jealous that you went on to college?” Rachel suggested.

  “No. We all had the same opportunities. Paul and Ian are both older than I am. They had degrees in business administration long before I got mine.”

  “Was that when you drove a school bus?”

  Sean took a deep breath and released it slowly. “No. I didn’t do that till I went back to school again later, after I was on my own.”

  “Which explains why you seem older than most recent college graduates.”

  He managed a wry smile. “Sometimes I feel downright ancient.”

  “Well, my offer stands. If you ever decide you need a real person to talk to, remember I’m available.”

  “Thanks but no thanks. I’m fine. I don’t need anybody.”

  “Everybody needs somebody,” Rachel countered. “A friend, a mate, God. For me, it was the good Lord.”

  “Spoken like a true resident of the Bible Belt.”

  “That’s absolutely right,” she said, refusing to allow herself to become upset over his cynical tone. “And proud of it. There have been times in my life when I might have done something really stupid if I hadn’t had my faith to fall back on.”

  “I don’t need a crutch.”

  Rachel laughed lightly. “I’m not talking about stumbling along with a broken leg, Sean. I’m talking about being so uplifted, so enthralled with the wonders of life, you feel like your feet aren’t even touching the ground.”

  Before he could answer, Samantha looked up from where she’d been playing, smiled at them both and said, “I know. Angels always fly like that.”

  If Schatzy hadn’t jumped up and yipped, tail wagging, no one would have noticed Hannah’s return a few minutes later.

  She leaned out of the van and yelled at Samantha. “Come on, Sam. Hank’s home. He caught me at Martha’s.
We gotta go.”

  “Awww…” The child immediately began to pout.

  “You can come back another time,” Rachel said firmly. “And we’ll see each other in school tomorrow.”

  Acting as if there was no chance of her being disobeyed, she ushered the unhappy little girl to the van and helped her climb into a rear seat where she could be belted in for safety.

  Rachel was standing in the driveway, waving goodbye and watching Hannah and Samantha drive away, before she fully realized she had one remaining guest. The uninvited one.

  Her conscience added, the lonely one.

  Oh, why had Sean revealed so much about his family?

  Because you asked him, dummy, her heart answered. You’re a terrible softie who doesn’t know enough to keep her mouth shut.

  That much was true. It was also true, however, that at least a portion of her empathy was a gift from God—a sensitivity that she knew He expected her to use to His glory.

  Which didn’t mean she was supposed to climb on her soapbox and start to preach, she reminded herself as she started back toward the porch where Sean waited. Too bad. It would have been a lot easier for her to lecture him, then walk away, than to continue to befriend him. Friendship meant personal involvement. Commitment. It also meant she’d probably have to reveal a portion of her inner self that few people ever saw, in order to show Sean it was safe to do the same.

  “Why?” she muttered, casting her eyes heavenward. “Why me?”

  Sean was already on his feet, waiting, as she approached the porch. “Sorry. I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

  “Oh, nothing important. I was just talking to myself.”

  He chuckled. “Do you do that often?”

  “All the time.”

  “I suppose you answer yourself, too.”

  “Uh-huh. Doesn’t everybody?”

  “No, but I promise not to tell the school board that you do it.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel made a silly face at him and sighed. “Well, here we are. What now?”

  To her surprise, his cheeks reddened as if he were blushing. Was that possible? She faced him boldly, fists on her hips, her head tipped to one side.

  “A penny for your thoughts?”

  “No way.” His color deepened.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You’d probably think so.”

  “Maybe not. You never know,” she said.

  Sean’s resulting smile reminded her of the one Craig had displayed in church. That was not a good sign.

  Rachel had remained at the top of the porch stairs. Sean approached her slowly, then passed by and took one step down. When he turned to face her, they were close to the same height.

  “I was thinking about how beautiful you are,” he said. “And I’m not talking about your looks.”

  “Hey, thanks a bunch.”

  He gently clasped her arms, holding her so she couldn’t turn away. “I’m trying to give you a compliment, Rachel. You have the sweetest nature of anyone I’ve ever known.”

  Awed, she was speechless. Her eyes searched his for any sign of insincerity. There was none. Sean Bates might like to kid around a lot of the time, but right now he was being serious. Too serious.

  Rachel managed a smile. At least, she thought she did. Given the charged atmosphere between her and Sean she wasn’t positive of anything, least of all her own reactions. The sensation of his warm hands caressing her upper arms reminded her of the first time they’d accidentally touched—when he’d tried to open the office door for her. That unexpected encounter had nearly destroyed her composure, just when she’d needed her wits about her for Samantha’s sake.

  This time, however, there was no one to consider but herself. And Sean, of course. The intensity of his gaze made her toes curl, her pulse hammer. It took her breath away. Without giving the action any conscious thought she parted her lips. They were trembling slightly.

  Sean saw the telling reaction and his heart overruled his head. He bent slowly, purposefully, giving Rachel time to order him to stop. She didn’t. On the contrary, she closed her eyes, raised her chin and leaned closer.

  Before he could change his mind and behave sensibly, he followed through and kissed her.

  Chapter Eight

  Rachel’s eyes popped open the moment he ended the kiss. She stared up at him, dumbfounded.

  If Sean hadn’t kept holding on to her arms, she knew she would have crumpled into a little pile of nothingness at his feet the instant their lips met. Wouldn’t that have impressed the neighbors! From intelligent schoolteacher to inert dust bunny in three seconds flat. Imagining that vivid illustration made her giggle.

  Clearly puzzled, Sean studied her expression. “I’ve had my face slapped before, but this is the first time a woman has laughed at me for making a pass at her. Was I that funny?”

  “No!” She tried to compose herself and failed. The giggles continued. “I— I think I’m just stressed. You know, with school starting, and my mother making waves, and Samantha’s awful situation, and Craig showing up in church this morning, and, and…”

  “I get it,” Sean said. There was a tinge of wounded pride in his voice. “One little kiss pushed you over the edge and now you’re going to blame me if you end up getting hysterical.”

  “Something like that.” Rachel’s grin was so broad her jaw ached. The hurt look on his face helped her decide to reach out and gently pat his cheek. “Hey, don’t sulk. It was a very, um, nice kiss. Really.”

  “‘Nice?’ Is that all you can say?”

  “Well…” Once again, Sean’s perturbed expression tickled her funny bone. “Oh, all right. I liked it, okay? It was great. Stupendous. So wonderful I’m about to keel over in ecstasy.” Which wasn’t all that far from the truth.

  He frowned as he released her. “You don’t have to exaggerate. I get the general idea.”

  I’m grateful you don’t, Rachel thought. She said, “Well, good. I’m glad we have that all settled. Now, as I was saying before you got carried away—what next? Can I fix you a glass of iced tea or something?”

  Sean took another step backward down the porch stairs, his hand sliding down the railing. “No thanks. I think it’s high time I left.”

  It’s long past the time you should have left. Instead of voicing that opinion she offered a plausible pretext. “I do have quite a few chores to do before nightfall. Stopping at Linden’s after church kind of messed up my schedule. I usually catch up on yard work Sunday afternoons.”

  “I meant to tell you what a beautiful place you have,” he said.

  One more step took him to the level of the lawn, where he paused to casually scan her yard. There were low, lush flower beds lining the front of the house. Two shade trees between there and the street were ringed with bright pink and white blooms that stood out boldly against the strong green of the grass. If there were weeds hidden among the plantings, he certainly couldn’t tell. The only chore he could see that looked like it needed doing was to mow the lawn.

  “I suppose it does take quite a bit of work to keep everything looking just right,” he said.

  “Thank you. Yes. It does. But I enjoy puttering. Flowers never sass me like some kids do, or argue with me the way Mom does.” Or kiss me when I’m

  not expecting it.

  Sean struck a nonchalant pose, hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks. “So, what’s on today’s agenda?”

  “I have to mow the—” Rachel stopped herself the moment she saw an eager glint in his eyes. It was too late.

  “That’s what I figured. I’m a whiz at pushing a mower. Since it’s partly my fault that you’re late getting started, let me cut the grass for you.”

  “I don’t push my mower,” she countered. “I ride around on it. Actually, it’s lots of fun.”

  “Great!”

  “I mean, it’s fun for me. I like mowing the lawn.”

  “Honest?”

  Rachel raised her right hand, palm out, as if taking a
sworn oath. “Honest.”

  “Okay.” Sean shrugged and started to turn away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  “Right. Tomorrow.”

  Watching him saunter to his car she was struck by how strongly she wanted him to stay. It wouldn’t do to reveal that urge, of course. Now that she’d finally gotten him to agree to leave, she’d be twice the fool to ask him to change his mind and hang around longer. Still, the idea was appealing. Foolish, but appealing.

  Sean wasn’t sure why Rachel seemed so determined to get rid of him but he could tell when he wasn’t wanted. Clearly, he’d overstayed his welcome—and then some.

  He was getting into his car when a mud-splattered, red pickup truck came roaring down the middle of Old Sturkie Road and skidded to a stop at the end of the driveway, blocking his only exit. He tensed. Unless Rachel had other former jealous boyfriends he didn’t know about, there was little doubt who had just arrived.

  Staying focused on the truck for only a few seconds, Sean glanced back at the porch. Rachel was no longer smiling. She was standing her ground, yet clearly not thrilled to see Craig Slocum. One hand was clamped tightly to the stairway railing and the other was squeezed into a fist at her side.

  Sean hesitated. There was no way he was going to drive off and leave Rachel at the mercy of the angrylooking man who was now climbing out of the red pickup and heading his way. Besides, as long as his car was penned in, he couldn’t make a graceful exit even if he wanted to.

  Slamming the car door, Sean welcomed his rival with a smile and an amiable “Hello, again,” his right hand extended.

  Slocum didn’t respond verbally. He merely closed the distance between them, gritted his teeth and swung.

  The unexpected punch caught Sean off guard. He grabbed his chin and staggered back against the side of his car. Before he could gather himself for the melee he was sure was coming, Craig had spun around and stalked back to his pickup. The truck’s tires squealed, throwing loose gravel, then caught.

  Rachel ran up and grabbed Sean’s arm as Craig sped away. “Are you okay?”

 

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