You're Gonna Love Me

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “Hey, Nick,” the pastor said. “Come on in.”

  “I take it someone got the birthday girl out of the house as planned.”

  Adrian nodded. “Brooklyn said she needed help with the set for a play at Alycia’s school, and Samantha went to her aid.”

  Nick followed the pastor to the large living room, where Ruth sat in the recliner. The sofa and several chairs were already occupied by other guests. He recognized many of the faces, which pleased him.

  Over the next fifteen minutes, more guests arrived at both the front and back doors. People spilled from the living room and into the large den. Gifts began to pile up on a table near the front door. Nick added a small, gold-wrapped box to an open space at the back of one stack. As the clock ticked closer to six, Camila asked the guests to be quiet, and they soon complied. It felt to Nick as if the entire house held its breath, and anticipation began to build in him.

  At last the silence was broken by the soft, almost imperceptible sound of a door opening. Laughter followed from the kitchen. Samantha’s laughter. Nick recognized it right away.

  “Gran?”

  Nick saw Ruth put a hand over her mouth.

  “She must be asleep,” Samantha said, lowering her voice. “I’ll check on her.” A heartbeat later, she stepped into view.

  “Surprise!” everyone in the room shouted.

  Samantha went pale. For a brief moment, Nick thought she might faint from the shock. But then the color returned to her cheeks and she laughed again, her eyes twinkling. “I don’t believe it.” She looked around the room. When her gaze fell on Nick, it stopped. If possible, she appeared more surprised than before.

  Her reaction bothered him. He didn’t want her to be shocked that he’d come to celebrate with her. Surprised by the party, yes. But not by him being present. She turned away and said something to Brooklyn and Alycia, and when she turned back, her gaze avoided Nick.

  That bothered him too.

  A memory tried to surface. He saw her eyes brimming with tears. He felt a dull ache in his chest, seeing the hurt in their green depths. But before the scene could fully form in his mind, it vanished, like a mist in the morning sun, and he was left to wonder if it had been something real or only his imagination.

  “Doesn’t Sam look pretty?”

  “She sure does.” He glanced to his right.

  The woman beside him—probably in her late forties or early fifties—had what could only be described as an outlandish sense of style, from her clothes to her hair to her makeup. “I’m Georgia. I own the beauty salon in town. And you’re the young man who helped Ruth when she fell off that stupid horse.”

  He swallowed a chuckle. He’d heard similar words more than once over the last month. He wasn’t Nick Chastain to many of the women in this town. He was that guy who’d helped Ruth. And any time the horse was included in a comment, it was a stupid one.

  “Well, God bless you,” Georgia continued. “None of us would know what to do without her.”

  He no longer tried to say he hadn’t done all that much. Ruth’s friends never believed him anyway.

  “I hear you’re taking Sam to a wedding.”

  “Uh . . . yes.” Small town strikes again.

  Georgia grinned. “I gave her a trim this morning in preparation for the weekend. I’ve always loved her red hair. So pretty.”

  His gaze swung back toward Samantha. “Beautiful,” he said softly, watching her move among the guests. Funny— lots of hazy or missing memories were in this banged-up head of his, but he’d never forgotten her beauty. He’d never forgotten the smile that was both sweet and seductive. He’d never forgotten that fire that could flash in her eyes or the lyrical sound of her laughter.

  Samantha’s path around the room brought her closer to him and Georgia, and eventually her gaze met his again. “Hi, Nick. Thanks for coming.”

  “My pleasure. Happy birthday.”

  A question filled her eyes, but she didn’t give it voice.

  “Look how loved you are.” He motioned with a hand toward the packed living room as a longing tightened his chest. A wish that he could read her every expression. A wish that he could be counted among those who loved her.

  “It’s more about how loved Gran is,” Samantha answered.

  Georgia grunted. “Nonsense, sweetheart. We love you in your own right.” She patted Nick’s arm. “I’d better get into the kitchen. They must be putting out the refreshments by now and might need my help.” She hurried away.

  There was more than one kind of love, Nick thought, his gaze still on Samantha. He could love her as a friend. That would be enough. It would have to be.

  Not since she was a little girl had Samantha had a birthday party with so many guests in attendance. It didn’t matter to her that they were more Gran’s friends than hers. Their good wishes were genuine, and she loved them all for it.

  Samantha sat on the sofa, the house now empty except for her and Gran. The unopened gifts lay at her feet, the opened ones to her right. But her thoughts were on Nick. He’d been among the first to leave the party, and yet his presence had lingered in her mind. She could still see his smile, still smell his woodsy cologne, still hear the warmth of his voice.

  “Go on, dear,” Gran said, intruding on her thoughts. “Open another one.”

  “Maybe I ought to wait until morning. It’s late and you should be in bed.”

  Gran sent her a look of disgust. “All I do is rest these days. Now go on and open your gifts. I want to see every single one of them.”

  Samantha complied without further resistance. She wouldn’t win, so there was no point in trying.

  The gifts, for the most part, were simple and inexpensive. A knitted tea cozy. Pottery from a local artist. A board game. A framed inspirational saying, hand-printed. Near the last, she came to a small box wrapped in gold foil. A tiny gift card was attached to the ribbon.

  Happy birthday, Sam. Nick.

  Her pulse quickened at the sight of his distinct handwriting. She freed the tape and removed the wrapping paper, then lifted the lid of the white box. Inside, nestled in a cloud of cotton, was a tennis bracelet. Cubic zirconia rather than diamonds, she was certain, but beautiful nonetheless. It took her breath away, mostly because the Nick she’d known hadn’t been a gift giver.

  “Who is that from, Sam?”

  “Nick.”

  “Well, for goodness’ sake. Isn’t that lovely?”

  Samantha sensed her grandmother watching her. Lifting the bracelet from the box, she said, “He must be very grateful that I’m going with him to his brother’s wedding.”

  “Hmm. Is that the reason?”

  “Don’t read more into this than it is, Gran.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Chapter 12

  When Samantha opened the door to Nick late the next afternoon, he was struck speechless. The word stunning didn’t come close to defining how she looked in that dark-green dress, perfect with her ivory complexion and red hair. He was going to look like a pauper escorting a princess.

  “Wow,” he managed to say.

  Her smile was quick, there and gone. Then she raised her right arm slightly. The tennis bracelet caught the light of the sun that descended in the western sky. “Thank you for your present, Nick. It was . . . unexpected. And thoughtful.” She turned away. “Gran, we’re leaving now.” She took a sweater and small evening bag from the table in the entry.

  “Not before I see Nick.” Ruth wheeled her scooter into view. She smiled as she looked at him. “My, don’t you clean up well.”

  He chuckled. “Thanks.” He ran his hands over the fabric of his suit coat. “Haven’t worn this is more than two years. Glad it still fits.”

  “It fits very nicely,” Ruth assured him. Then she gave Samantha a kiss on the cheek. “You two have a lovely evening.”

  “We will, Gran. We shouldn’t be too late. You’re sure you don’t want Camila to come stay with you?”

  “I’m well p
ast the stage where I need someone with me twenty-four seven, thank you very much.” Ruth waved her hand, shooing her granddaughter out the door.

  Nick didn’t take Samantha’s arm, although he was tempted to. Instead, he walked beside her to where his truck awaited them at the curb. Despite her high heels and her short skirt, she managed the step up into the cab with surprising ease. He didn’t allow his gaze to linger long on her shapely legs. Well, not too long.

  After closing her door, he hurried around to the driver side and got in. “Thanks again for going with me, Sam.”

  “It gave me an excuse to buy a new dress. Brooklyn helped me pick it out.”

  He almost told her how great she looked but swallowed the words as he started the truck, afraid he might say too much.

  “Besides,” she said as the vehicle pulled away from the curb, “I haven’t been a guest at a wedding in a long while. I’m looking forward to it.”

  They were silent on the drive out of Thunder Creek, but once they reached the freeway and were headed toward Boise, Samantha said, “Tell me about your family.”

  “My family?”

  “You never really talked about them when we were . . . dating. I knew you had brothers, but not a whole lot more. I always assumed you weren’t close with them.”

  He frowned as he thought back, trying to remember how he had managed to give her that impression. Details escaped him. Was it because he hadn’t been ready for a serious relationship, because he hadn’t wanted to let her get too close? His gut told him he’d guessed right. His head told him he’d been a fool.

  If I had it to do over again, I’d never let you go. The truth of it stole his breath away.

  “Tell me about them,” she prompted again. “Who am I meeting tonight?”

  He shook off his thoughts and tried to sound normal. “You’ll meet my mom and dad. Her name’s Tricia, and his name’s Rocky.”

  “Tricia and Rocky.”

  “My two older brothers won’t be there tonight, but you’ll get to meet Jeff, the oldest, tomorrow at the wedding. Assuming his plane arrives on time. So that just leaves Rudy, my kid brother. He’s the groom, of course.”

  “How much younger is Rudy than you?”

  “Eight years. But we’re tight. He and I are alike in a lot of ways.”

  “Only unlike you he’s a romantic at heart.”

  He wanted to protest, to say he could be romantic, too, but she wouldn’t have believed him. And with good cause.

  “Love at first sight,” she continued. “You don’t believe in it. You told me so once.”

  She was right. He remembered that conversation.

  They fell into another silence as they completed the drive to Boise. Nick found the church without a problem and parked his truck in the lot across from the older, stately building. Not until they reached the main entrance did he say, “My folks don’t know that you and I met in Oregon. I told them I was bringing a date. Nothing else.”

  Samantha gave him a sharp look. “Don’t you want them to know?”

  “No, it’s fine with me. But I wanted it to be up to you. Be warned, though. My mom will want to know everything about you, no matter what.” He yanked open the door. “Be prepared for that.”

  The entry hall was empty, but the sounds of talking and laughter led them to the sanctuary. They stepped inside the large room and stopped.

  At the front of the church, Rudy saw them at once. “Nick!” He rushed down the long center aisle in their direction.

  Grinning, Nick shook his brother’s hand, followed by a sturdy embrace as they each gave the other some solid pats on the back. When Rudy stepped back, his gaze shifted to Samantha. Frank admiration filled his eyes before they shot back to Nick.

  The pauper-with-the-princess feeling returned. “Rudy, this is Samantha Winters. Sam, this is my kid brother, Rudy.”

  Rudy grinned. “When I told him he could bring a date, I sure didn’t expect him to find someone like—”

  Nick gave his brother a quick elbow in the ribs.

  Although it momentarily shut Rudy up, it didn’t stop him from offering Samantha his arm, then escorting her away from Nick. “Come meet my fiancée and the rest of our families.”

  “Sit with us,” Tricia Chastain said as the rehearsal began. The woman led Samantha to the front row, right side of the aisle.

  They were silent while the wedding party organized themselves at the rear of the church. Eventually, Rudy, Nick, and another guy about the same age as the groom—a cousin of the bride, Tricia whispered to Samantha—came down the aisle and took up their places in front of the pastor. He began explaining how the ceremony would go, speaking in a low voice that barely carried to the first pew.

  “Nick says you live in Thunder Creek,” Tricia said softly.

  “Yes. Temporarily. I’m staying with my grandmother while she recovers from a fall.”

  “How did you and Nick meet?” Tricia’s gaze returned to her sons.

  Not for the first time, Nick had left it up to Samantha what to tell others, and she made a quick decision. “Actually, we knew each other in Oregon. When he was still teaching at the university. Then we lost track of each other until we met again here.”

  Tricia looked at her. “It must have been nice for him to see a friendly face when he got here.”

  Samantha nodded rather than try to explain how unfriendly her face had been that first day.

  The organ began to play the “Wedding March,” ending the brief conversation. Those seated in the pews swiveled to watch as the bridesmaids came down the aisle. Right after them came the bride and her father. Chelsea made Samantha think of a porcelain doll with her pale complexion, rosy cheeks, bow-shaped mouth, and long blond hair. But it was the adoring way the bride looked at her groom that made Chelsea more than pretty. Her eyes were so full of love it seemed to spill over onto everyone around her.

  As the bride passed her, Samantha turned in her seat again, a twinge of envy squeezing her heart. Despite herself, her gaze shifted to the best man. Nick grinned as he leaned forward and whispered something to his brother. The two of them laughed. Chelsea lightly slapped Rudy’s upper arm, then laughed with them.

  “Behave yourselves, boys,” Tricia called to her sons.

  Nick looked at his mom and winked.

  Samantha wondered again why he had been so close-mouthed about his family. His silence had given her a mistaken impression.

  Then again, maybe her impression had more to do with herself than with Nick. She and her mom weren’t as close as they’d once been. Not that they didn’t love each other. They did, and they both knew it. But Samantha had never warmed to her stepdad, Trent Adams, and that had put emotional distance between her and her mom. No. If she was honest, it wasn’t her mom’s second husband who was the cause. The fault lay with Samantha. She frowned, wondering if this was another result of her fearful nature.

  A collective sigh went up from the observers of the rehearsal. Her attention reverted to the bride and groom in time to see Rudy kiss Chelsea, her back bent over his arm in a romance-novel-worthy pose.

  Rudy looked at the pastor. “Good enough?”

  The pastor grinned. “Good enough.”

  Rudy helped Chelsea stand upright before facing his audience. “Let’s eat!”

  Moments later, Nick arrived at the front row, his gaze moving from his parents to Samantha. “Looks like everybody knows what they’re doing tomorrow.” He patted his breast pocket. “And I am now in charge of the ring. Make sure I don’t lose it, Sam, or Rudy’ll kill me.” To his mom he said, “Where are we headed for dinner? I’ll need directions.”

  “We’re walking there as a group. Just one block from here. Chelsea’s parents rented a room in a historic house and are having the rehearsal dinner catered. The groom’s parents usually take care of the dinner, but they wouldn’t hear of us paying for a thing.” She ended with a shrug.

  Nick leaned in and kissed his mom’s cheek, whispering, “Are you doing okay?�
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  It was hard to tell by her profile, but Tricia seemed sad as she nodded. Then she smiled again. “If I’d wanted to be in charge of a wedding, I should have had at least one daughter.” She patted Nick’s cheek, the last one slightly harder than the others.

  He laughed, and the sound swept away any hint of melancholy from his mom’s expression.

  “Come on.” He offered Samantha his elbow. “I’m hungry.”

  He was different around his family, she thought as they walked, her fingers resting in the crook of his arm. Actually, she’d noticed other changes in him in these past weeks in Idaho. He was more laid back than before, less intense. But the difference in him tonight was that he emanated joy.

  “What?” he asked when he noticed her watching him.

  “Nothing.”

  “What?”

  “I like your family. Especially your mom.”

  He grinned. “Easy to do.”

  It frightened her a little, this changed man beside her. It frightened her because she thought she could like him even more than she’d liked the old Nick. And that simply would not do.

  Chapter 13

  In Samantha’s opinion, the ceremony on Saturday was every bit as adorable as the bride. Everyone in the wedding party wore western boots, both guys and gals. The bride and her attendants had knee-length skirts, and the groom and his groomsmen wore jeans and long-sleeved black shirts with white piping. Sunflowers were everywhere, including in the bride’s bouquet. The service itself was conventional, the couple promising to love and honor each other until death parted them, and when the groom kissed the bride at the end—without bending her over backward as he had at the rehearsal—Samantha had to wipe away a few tears with a tissue.

  At the dinner the previous night, she had been able to stay somewhat in the background, observing the Chastains, listening to their easy banter and their lively laughter, learning a little about the family dynamics. It had made for an enjoyable evening for a confessed introvert.