by Loree Lough
Bryce stared at the door for a full minute, wondering if Sam might come back and finish what she’d started. When she didn’t, he figured he had nobody to blame but himself. How in the world she’d summoned the patience to put up with his little pity fest, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t help grinning and thanking the good Lord that she had.
He’d often imagined what it might be like…holding her close, kissing her…but the vision paled by comparison to the real thing. Bryce licked his lips, knowing he’d taste that kiss for hours. He’d no doubt hear her parting comment in his head a couple hundred times, too, and that made him smile even wider.
Show a little class, he told himself. Go to the shop and apologize for acting like a jerk.
He glanced at his workbench, where miscellaneous pegs and boards lay scattered among sawdust and shavings. Fortunately, Sam hadn’t seemed to notice the well-sanded wood he’d turn into a gift, just for her. But even if she hadn’t built up a solid head of steam after delivering his lunch, it wasn’t likely she’d know what all the pieces and parts would become, once he’d sanded and polished them to perfection.
Eyeing the brown bag amid it all, Bryce shook his head. How like her to remember that he’d confessed how often he forgot to eat when a project was under way. If he knew Sam, she’d worked her special brand of kitchen magic on everything, from the sandwich to the brownies. It didn’t surprise him, when he opened the rumpled sack, to find that she’d added potato chips, a pickle, and a juice box. Or that she’d scribbled a note on the neatly folded napkin. Something to keep the grumbling at bay. And she’d signed it with her by-now familiar smiley face.
Bryce shook his head, amazed that somebody as sweet and big-hearted, as smart and funny as Sam could be interested in a disfigured grump like himself. But he held in his hands proof-positive that she was. “Lord,” he said out loud, “I don’t know what I ever did in my miserable life to deserve her, but if You’ll tell me what it was, I’ll do it over and over, to guarantee I never lose her.”
“That’s about the smartest thing I’ve heard anybody say about my baby sister.”
Bryce lurched slightly in response to Bill’s voice.
“Sorry, man,” he said, ambling up to the work bench, “didn’t mean to startle you.” Chuckling, he added, “But in all honesty, it would’ve been tough not to, deep as you were in la-la-land.”
“Blame that sister of yours,” Bryce said. “She’s turned my brain to mush.”
“Ha. Never thought I’d hear a big bad marine admit a thing like that.”
Bryce chuckled. “Never thought I’d say a thing like that.”
“Does she know yet?”
“Know what?”
“That you’re nuts about her.”
Bryce considered denying it. “If my idiotic behavior hasn’t signaled her…”
“She’s a lot of things, that kid sister of mine, but ‘mind reader’ isn’t one of ’em.”
“Tell you the truth, Bill, I was asking myself right before you walked in here what in the world the girl sees in me—”
“So I heard.”
Another shrug, then, “—’cause I’m not exactly a prize.”
It was Bill’s turn to shrug. “So what are you working on there?”
Bryce told Bill what he’d planned for Sam’s birthday, and since her brother seemed mildly interested in the shop, Bryce gave him a tour. He described each gizmo and gadget and listed the tools on his “wish list” that would help him turn his carpentry dream into reality. “Only way any of that can happen,” he admitted, “is if I sell Rudolph’s.”
“If the market is as tight here as it is back East, I don’t envy you.”
Nodding, Bryce said, “I’ve had one decent offer, but I turned it down.”
Bill didn’t understand why, and said so.
“Because the offer came from Dan Brooks, that clown who gave your sister’s job to his scrawny nephew, for one thing. I’m the first to admit the place isn’t much, but God only knows what that greedy fool would do to it.” He tucked his hands into his pockets. “Besides, where will Sam work if I sell it?”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong…I admire your loyalty, but business is business. Sam would understand that. Did she tell you how she pretty much paid her own way through college, and how she worked her fingers to the bone to help that loser fiancé of hers build his construction company from the ground up?”
“No,” he said. But the information didn’t surprise him.
“We used to call her ‘Jane of all trades, master of none’ because she worked at so many jobs.” The memory inspired a quiet chuckle. “That girl did everything from waiting tables to bagging groceries to managing a video store. There were times we only saw her on major holidays, and even then, just long enough to hug everybody and scarf down a quick meal.”
“And I’ll bet she managed to get straight A’s the whole time.”
Bill nodded. “Not only that, but she double-majored.” On the heels of an admiring sigh, he added, “She’s something else, that sister of mine.”
Bryce couldn’t have agreed more.
“So when will you tell her?”
“How I feel about her, y’mean?”
Another nod.
“Just between you and me, I don’t know that I will.” Bryce held up a hand to halt Bill’s protest. “Because she deserves more than a one-eyed jarhead who can’t get his mind out of Afghanistan.”
“Can’t,” Bill said, “or won’t?”
“Does it matter? Bottom line is…I’m not good enough for her.”
Bill crossed both arms over his chest. “You sure you were a marine?”
Bryce didn’t need to hear more to know what Sam’s brother meant. Marines had a reputation for being tough and uncomplaining, and his confession sounded more like self-pity than a rational explanation for not telling Sam how he felt about her. “Sounds like whining, I know, but it isn’t. Last thing I want to do is burden her with my—”
“She’s not one of your recruits. If you respect her as much as you say you do, don’t you think you owe it to her to let her make the choice?”
It was a good point. Still…
“You probably know this already, but Sam is never happier than when she’s doing something for people she cares about.”
Bryce emptied the contents of the lunch bag onto his workbench. “Don’t I know it,” he said. Then, “Had lunch?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Bill said, scooting a stool closer to the table.
As they ate, the men swapped stories of Bill’s days in Iraq and Bryce’s tours of duty in Afghanistan. And by the time they divided up the brownies she’d baked, they realized they had far more in common than their fierce, protective love for Samantha Sinclair.
Chapter Nineteen
She’d left explicit instructions for every member of her family that they were not, under any circumstances, to tell Joey Michaels where she’d gone, lest he get the misguided notion she’d had to run all the way to Alaska to escape the hurt and humiliation of their breakup. “How did you find me?” Sam demanded.
“Your best friend Marsha told me,” he said, “when she found out I broke it off with—”
“I’m working, Joe,” she snapped. Maybe hearing her call him that, instead of the more affectionate “Joey,” would send the clear message that she didn’t want to hear the story of his heartbreak…and spare him from the “What goes around comes around” that was on the tip of her tongue.
“You never asked me where I’m calling from.”
“Frankly, Joe, I don’t care where you’re calling from.” She warned herself to be careful. Too much ire and he’d think she’d been pining away for him; too little and he’d get the idea their relationship could be repaired. And it most definitely could not.
“I’m in Anchorage.”
“Hundreds of miles from where I am,” she pointed out. But curiosity prompted her to ask, “On business, I hope?”
Joey explained ho
w he’d sold his construction company to a high-profile developer with offices in almost every state in the union, and they’d asked him to spend a few months opening an office in Alaska. “I was hoping you’d let me buy you dinner, so I could at least try and show you how sorry I am for—”
“Listen, it’s over and done with, okay? Forgiven and forgotten.” And it was the truth. She’d never been happier, never felt more fulfilled, than since she’d moved to North Pole. Sam knew that if Joey hadn’t left her when he did, she’d still be in Baltimore, catering to his every whim…and getting nothing but grief in return. “I absolutely love it here. The good Lord has blessed me in more ways than I can count.”
“Are you, uh, seeing anyone?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.” Not the whole truth, but not exactly a lie, either. She saw Bryce every day, didn’t she?
“Is he treating you well?”
“You bet he is.” Also true, too…if she didn’t count these past few days.
“How’s the family?”
“Great. Yours?” Their conversation made her feel increasingly uncomfortable, but two wrongs didn’t make a right, and she simply couldn’t bring herself to be cruel.
“Lost my grandmother last month.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” And she was, too. Sam had always liked the Michaels family matriarch. “She was such a lovely lady. I’m sure she’ll be missed.” But she’d had enough of his small talk and prayed for the strength to end the call gently and quickly. “Well, I’m not getting any work done standing here chatting,” she said, “so you take care, Joe.” And with that, she hung up.
It surprised her, as the hours passed, that no negative emotions surfaced following Joey’s call. As she prepared supper for herself and Bill, Sam wondered why the sound of his voice hadn’t inspired feelings of regret or sadness. Would it have been so easy to get on with her life if her love for him had been genuine? Sam didn’t think so.
“Where’s Bryce?” Bill asked when she called him to the table.
“Still puttering in his shop, I expect. He’s pretty concerned about his aunt, and I don’t think he’ll really calm down until he can see with his own eyes that she’s all right.”
“His own eye, you mean.” Bill smiled at his own cleverness. “I take it Olive raised Bryce?”
“Pretty much. From what I gather, his mom and dad were hippy types who did a lot of traipsing around the country, picketing against this and marching for that.”
“And he enlisted in the marines?” Bill laughed. “Guess that showed ’em!”
Though Sam had never given that a thought, she supposed it made sense. “Olive said they were so opposed to his decision that they refused to write to him after he was deployed, so it fell to her to send care packages and letters.” She heaved a sigh.
“Bummer.” Then, “I stopped by his shop today, and he shared his lunch with me.” Bill winked. “That was nice of you, considering…”
Considering? Considering what? But wait…was that a smirk on Bill’s face? “All right, out with it,” she said, narrowing one eye.
“Out with what?”
“Oh, come on, don’t play the innocent with me. I grew up looking at your ‘I’ve got a secret’ expression, and it’s written all over your face right now.”
Shoulders up and hands extended in supplication, he said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ri-i-i-ght,” she replied. “Just remember what Granddad said about fibs…”
“…‘Each one leaves a stain on your soul,’ ” they said in unison.
After a moment of warm sibling laughter, Sam said, “You’ll never guess who called me today.”
“Santa?”
“Always the comedian,” she teased. “No…this guy doesn’t deliver anything good.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Not Joey…”
She nodded. “One and the same.”
“What did that good-for-nothing lowlife cheating hunk of trash want?”
She laughed. “To tell me that he’s in Anchorage on business. Thought he could talk me into having dinner with him, so he could apologize.”
“The guy’s got gall, all right. How’d he find out where you were?”
“Marsha.”
“Ack. I should have known. I told you that big mouth of hers would bring you heartache some day.”
“She’s a jabberjaw, I’ll give you that much, but I’m not upset with her about it. Because oddly enough, talking with Joey today confirmed what I knew in my heart long before he dumped me…and long before I saw Baltimore in my rearview mirror.”
“That he’s a good-for-nothing lowlife cheating hunk of trash?”
“No, silly,” she said, giggling, “that I’m better off without him. That if he hadn’t cheated when he did, I’d have gone ahead with the wedding plans. And then I’d have been his wife when he finally decided to cheat. And he would have. You know it as well as I do.”
“Reminds me what Grandmom used to say…”
“ ‘Once a cheat, always a cheat’?”
“You got it.” He shoved back from the table. “Supper was great. What was that stuff, anyway?”
“Chicken and rice in cream sauce. I hate to admit it, but you were my guinea pig. I’m supposed to bring something to a covered-dish supper at church in a few weeks.”
“It’ll be a hit for sure.” He smirked. “What’s for dessert?”
“I’m afraid all I have is vanilla ice cream.” She jumped up to poke around in the fridge. “There’s some chocolate syrup in here, though, and a can of whipped cream.” Straightening, Sam asked if he’d like a sundae.
“When have you ever known me to turn down anything sweet?”
“The day that happens,” she said, “is the day I’ll pop a thermometer in your mouth to see how high your fever is.”
After their sundaes, Bill cleared the table as she filled the dishwasher.
“So what are you doing this evening, sister dear?”
“Same thing I do most nights…I’m heading back downstairs,” Sam answered, “to try and get the last of today’s deliveries put away. If I make some headway tonight, I can probably start redistributing merchandise tomorrow. I figure it’ll take a few more days before I have everything just so for Olive’s homecoming.”
“What’s Bryce say about the magic you’re working at the store?”
“Why would I ask him? He hired me to manage the place, so I’m managing.”
Chuckling, Bill shared the story Bryce had told him, about his dream of selling Rudolph’s so he could invest the proceeds in his carpentry shop. He ran down the short list of materials and machines Bryce thought he’d need, should the good Lord bless him with a sale. “I asked him what you were supposed to do if he managed to get rid of the place, and he said having you close was the only good thing about keeping it.”
Sam’s heartbeat quickened. “He said that?”
“He said that.”
“How sweet,” she cooed, laying a hand over her heart. “Makes me wish I had made dessert, so I could leave some out to surprise him when he finally finishes up for the day.”
“Well, I won’t be awake when he gets home. I’m hitting the hay early, ’cause I have a hot date tomorrow.”
“With Cora?”
“Yep.”
“Where’s she taking you?”
“Panning for gold. Out to see the pipeline.” He shrugged. “She rattled off so many things, I can’t remember them all. And to be honest, it doesn’t matter where we go or what we do. I’m just looking forward to finding out what she’s like without a coffee pot in her hand.” Pocketing both hands, he leaned his backside against the counter while Sam wiped the table. “What do you know about her?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. In fact, you’ve probably accumulated ten times more information, hanging out at Dalman’s, than I could tell you.”
“She makes me laugh till my sides ache, so as long as she isn’t hiding an ex who’s a big ugly
lumberjack, that’s all I need to know.”
“Just don’t go fallin’ in love, bro.”
“Said the pot to the kettle.”
Sam widened her eyes and pretended his comment had offended her. “May I point out that it took me months to go ga-ga? You, on the other hand, have only been in North Pole a week!”
“Down, girl,” he teased. “It’s a date, not a lifetime commitment.”
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
Bill hugged her. “I have no desire to be hurt.” He popped a brotherly kiss to her forehead. “And by the way? Ditto, sissy, ditto.”
Sam had no way of knowing why, but she felt certain that her heart was safe in Bryce’s hands.
“See you in the morning, sis,” he said, heading for the bedroom. “If I’m not up by six, shake my cage, will ya?”
“Will do,” she promised.
Bill hadn’t even rounded the corner before Sam started pulling together the ingredients for sticky buns, for no reason other than that they were Bryce’s all-time favorite treat.
Chapter Twenty
The delectable aroma of fresh-baked pastry still filled the air when deep, quiet voices woke Sam. She recognized them instantly as belonging to Bill and Bryce. The soft blue green glow of her wristwatch told her it was shortly after midnight. She’d learned by living across the hall from him that Bryce often stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, but hadn’t Bill said he wanted to be up early for his date with Cora?
“They melt in your mouth,” she heard her brother say.
“Is there anything that sister of yours can’t do?” A pause, and then Bryce added, “I’ve seen her sketchbooks and I’ve heard her sing. Every day, she puts a little more military precision into the chaos at Rudolph’s.” She could almost picture him licking sweet white glaze from his fingertips. “And man-oh-man, the girl can cook.”
Grinning into her pillow, Sam wished she could see through the wall. How much better would the compliments sound if she could see his expression, too?
“She’s awful at sports,” Bill said. “And all she has to do is walk past a plant to kill it.”
