The Single Dad’s Fresh Start

Army vet Will Davenport knows all about missions but nothing about raising his young daughter. Settling in Serendipity, Texas, he hopes they’ll both find the peace that has always eluded him. But when the widower goes to work for a local beauty, he gets much, much more. Samantha Howell is ready with a helping hand for everyone else but insists on taking care of her problems on her own. Will wants to be her hero, but too much stands in their way. For a future with Samantha, he has to bury the past. But forgiving himself may be his most difficult mission ever....

“We were talking about how you needed to learn to accept help from other people.”

“And I believe I told you that I didn’t need any assistance.”

The woman was nothing if not stubborn. She refused to let him help her and her family in this fight, but what she didn’t know was that he was at least as stubborn as she was. He would help the Howells.

“Once I arrived in Serendipity, you and your family showed me such great kindness. I can never repay you. But I do wish you’d allow me to try. You’ve already done so much for Genevieve. She thinks the earth revolves around Miss Samantha.”

She chuckled and her face brightened. Maybe the world didn’t revolve around Samantha, but it was definitely made better by her smile.

Will pulled his mental brakes. Whatever was between them didn’t matter, because he wasn’t going to let it. He was hazardous material and Samantha was too good a person for him to risk wounding her.

She had nothing to gain, and he had nothing to offer. End of subject.

DEB KASTNER

lives and writes in colorful Colorado with the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains for inspiration. She loves writing for Love Inspired Books, where she can write about her two favorite things—faith and love. Her characters range from upbeat and humorous to (her favorite) dark and broody heroes. Her plots fall anywhere in between, from a playful romp to the deeply emotional. Deb’s books have been twice nominated for the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Book of the Year for Love Inspired. Deb and her husband share their home with their two youngest daughters. Deb is thrilled about the newest member of the family—her first granddaughter, Isabella. What fun to be a granny! Deb loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her by email at debwrtr@aol.com, or on her MySpace or Facebook pages.

The Soldier’s Sweetheart
Deb Kastner

www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Lord your God is with you,

the Mighty Warrior who saves.

He will take great delight in you;

in His love He will no longer rebuke you,

but will rejoice over you with singing.

—Zephaniah 3:17

To all the mighty warriors who daily put their lives on the line to keep our country safe.

Words are not enough to thank you for your service.

God bless you and your families.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Dear Reader

Questions for Discussion

Excerpt

Chapter One

Sell Sam’s Grocery?

Samantha Howell snorted in outrage and crumpled the fancy-shmancy letter, written on white-linen paper, in her fist.

Over her dead body.

Her stomach tightened into uncomfortable knots, the same as it always did when she heard the name Stay-n-Shop. Didn’t these people know what the word no meant? Just because they were a large corporation didn’t mean they could walk over the little people, did it?

Actually, it kind of did. In fact, that was exactly what it meant. And unfortunately for Samantha, she was the “little people” in question.

Fury kindled in her chest as she flattened the note with her palm. As much as she wanted to toss the missive in the nearest trash can, she knew she needed to keep it. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard from this giant bear of a company, but if they had their way, it would be the last. Stay-n-Shop had taken out a ninety-day option on land just inside the southern border of Serendipity. If she didn’t sell to them, they’d “have no choice but to pursue permits and zoning” and begin building a store of their own. In short, the big-box store would drive Sam’s Grocery out of business.

She chewed absently on her bottom lip as she reread the letter once again, her thoughts buzzing through her head like a swarm of angry wasps.

What was she going to do to save her store? What could she do?

“Excuse me, miss?”

The bell rang over the door and a moment later, a man’s deep, unfamiliar voice registered in her ear.

“I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m looking for Samantha Howell. I was told I might find her here.” His tone was as smooth as honey, with just the hint of a Texas accent.

“I’m...” she started to say, frantically sliding the crumpled letter under the nearby dry-goods inventory. Her breath hitched as she met the stranger’s uncompromising brown-eyed gaze. She swallowed hard, trying to recover her composure.

“...Samantha Howell.”

Having lived her whole life in the small town, it was a rare event for her to not recognize someone. Very few visitors ever came through Serendipity, Texas. The town wasn’t even on the state map. She knew nearly every customer who frequented the store by name and could recount their lives down to the most current events.

Even more peculiar, she surmised the man was military, despite the fact that he was in street clothes. The severe set of his shoulders, his trim blond hair and the way he clasped his hands behind his back were dead giveaways. And his tan T-shirt was ironed, with a sharp crease lining each sleeve. Only military guys ironed their T-shirts.

She wondered which branch of the service he was in. Before leaving for Fort Benning for Basic Combat Training, her brother, Seth, had tried to enlighten her on the differences between the branches. At the time, she hadn’t really been paying attention. Her brother was always talking about Army this or Army that.

To Samantha, military was military. She appreciated their service to the country, and she hung up her flag every Memorial Day and Fourth of July just like any other homegrown patriot would do, but it had all been lip service, without any truly meaningful connection to her real life.

Once Seth enlisted, that changed.

Now every newscast about the American troops, every update on the radio, was personal. It was frightening. It was family.

Seth.

In a matter of milliseconds, Samantha went from being curious about a handsome stranger to completely panicked over a brother living in consistently deadly conditions. She felt as if she’d been zapped with electricity from an open socket. All thoughts of Stay-n-Shop and her own problems instantly fled.

Was this man here about her brother?

Oh, dear Lord. Not Seth.

As the man’s solemn gaze held hers, fear and adrenaline jolted her pulse. Her stomach rose into her throat in stinging, nauseating waves, then plunged back down again like a giant, out-of-control roller coaster.

The stranger’s expression was grim, his mouth a thin, straight line slashing across hard, angular features. She could read nothing reassuring in his eyes and horrible scenarios spread like wildfire through her mind.

It couldn’t be. Not her brother.

Seth had only entered the Army infantry last year. Immediately after his advanced training, he’d been deployed to Afghanistan, where he was working under extremely dangerous circumstances, with guns and bombs and who knew what else threatening him on a daily basis.

And now this military man had suddenly appeared, asking for her by name. Didn’t the Army send a guy out when—

Oh, God, she pleaded silently, her heart pounding in her ears as she gasped for breath. No, no, no. Dear Lord, please don’t let this be about Seth. Please don’t let him be wounded.

Or worse.

Samantha gritted her teeth and shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her sweet, charming baby brother, who’d always been the life of the family.

“Is Seth...?” she started to ask, her raw voice cracking under the strain and tears burning in her eyes. The man wasn’t in uniform. Wasn’t he supposed to be in uniform? “Where is he? Is he okay?”

Confused, the man’s dark blond eyebrows dropped low over his eyes, but then his gaze suddenly widened in comprehension. His throat worked as he searched for words.

“No, ma’am. I mean, yes, ma’am. Seth is fine. That’s not why I’m here at all.” One side of his mouth twitched with strain as he lifted a hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. I can see that I’ve unintentionally frightened you.”

Frightened her? He’d scared her half to death with his sober expression. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought he could probably hear it from where he was standing.

“Seth is enjoying his tour of duty—or, at least, as much as a person can find pleasure in their deployment. He was born for military service, as I’m sure you’re well aware. He excels in the infantry.”

Relief washed over her in waves. This soldier had seen her brother, and Seth was safe and sound.

Thank You, Lord.

“Actually,” the man continued, shifting from one foot to the other and clearing his throat, “Seth is why I’m here, although not for the reason you supposed. I assumed...” He cleared his throat again. “Although in Seth’s defense, everything happened rather quickly.”

Samantha’s relief turned to bewilderment.

What had happened quickly? Seth could be airheaded at times, but forgetting to mention he was sending a soldier to their town defied being a card-carrying space cadet, even for him.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” A gross understatement, but a place to start. She leaned forward on her elbows and clasped her hands before her. “Obviously, I’m confused here. Can we begin again?”

The man took a step back and squared his already taut shoulders, as if she’d just invaded his personal space. Or maybe it was a figurative movement, a physical gesture indicating that he was preparing to start their encounter all over again.

“I’m Corporal—er—William Davenport. I’ve obviously caught you off guard with my arrival.” His eyebrows lowered as he tilted his head toward her. “You don’t know why I am here, nor were you aware that I was coming.”

It wasn’t a question, but Samantha shook her head, silently reevaluating the figure of masculinity blocking the stream of sunlight pouring in from the front glass window. “I’m afraid not, Mr. Davenport. I believe I’m at a distinct disadvantage here.”

But she was quickly coming up to speed. Seth, easily diverted, had forgotten to call and let her know that his friend was coming to Serendipity to...

What?

Visit? Pass through town on his way elsewhere? Get some country air before returning to active duty?

It’s too bad her parents’ bed-and-breakfast wasn’t up and running yet. If it was a little closer to their grand opening, this soldier might have been their first paying customer.

Now that Seth’s safety wasn’t an issue, she realized there was more her brother had neglected to mention—like how easy William Davenport was on the eyes. Even the scar marring his upper lip gave credence to his rough-cut masculinity. Her best friends, Alexis and Mary, would turn green with envy when she told them about her encounter with the man. If she could unobtrusively snap a picture of him with her cell phone before he left, even better. Then she’d really be able to rub it in.

“Please, call me Will,” the man continued, breaking into her thoughts. “I’m recently retired from active duty—a civilian now.”

Will. It was a strong name, fitting for the sturdy man before her. His voice had lowered with his brief explanation, and she had the distinct impression that he was uncomfortable with the civilian status he was declaring.

“I’m here to fill the position you have open.”

“I’m sorry?” Samantha queried, so taken aback by his statement that she jerked upright, sending both the dry-goods inventory and her briefly forgotten corporate letter flying. She watched in horror as each piece of paper floated slowly and in what felt like an intentional and deliberate way to the floor—directly in front of Will.

Her chest tightened. Maybe it was silly, but she had her pride, and she didn’t like anyone reading her private business. But it had very literally landed at his feet, and there was nothing she could do about it.

It was a given that he had to go and pick up the papers off the floor. What else was there for him to do, since the Stay-n-Shop missive covered the tip of one of his meticulously shined black cowboy boots?

Samantha couldn’t tell whether or not he glanced at the letter as he scooped it up. He gave nothing away in his expression and his eyes were dark and unreadable. She fought the urge to reach out and snatch the paper out of his hand, and then decided that would be too obvious a move, calling attention to the fact that she was uncomfortable with him reading the letter. Instead, she stood frozen, her hands fisted at her sides.

Without a single word, he turned and reached for the other piece of paper. Samantha quietly sighed in relief when he placed the grocery inventory over the legal missive. He spent a good deal more time looking at the dry-goods register, which made her almost as uncomfortable as the thought of him looking at the Stay-n-Shop letter.

His lips pursed briefly, his right eyebrow twitching once before his expression returned to stone. Had Samantha looked away even for a second, she would have missed the odd mix of emotions that momentarily registered on his face.

He lifted his gaze from the inventory and took a long look around the store, apparently taking stock of what Sam’s Grocery carried, glancing back and forth between the products on the shelves and the list he still carried in his hand.

Was he judging the place? He gave no further indication one way or another of what he was thinking as he perused the shop.

“This is it, then? Your whole dry-goods inventory?” he asked, handing both pages back to Samantha as if they’d been his to begin with. He had a commanding air about him that Samantha didn’t particularly care for. She considered herself a friendly and easygoing woman, but when it came to Sam’s Grocery, she was used to being in charge, and she certainly wasn’t used to being questioned about the state of her dry-goods inventory—especially by a stranger. Add to that the fact that she’d already had a long and stressful afternoon, and she was ripe for contention.

“Yes,” she answered brusquely, not that it was any of his business. “So?”

“I am—I mean, I was—a unit supply specialist in the Army. I’m not sure how well that experience is going to segue into working for a small-town grocery, but I’ll do my best. You’ll find I’m quite diligent in my work habits.”

“Yeah—about that.” She jumped in before he had the opportunity to elaborate on why he was qualified for this job—the one he mistakenly thought was on the table for him, or worse yet, thanks to her capricious brother, believed was already a signed-and-sealed deal. She was still a little unclear on that point. “I’m not quite sure I understand which position, exactly, you think we have open. As you observed, Serendipity is a small town, and this is a family grocery. We don’t have much occasion to hire help here.”

Clearing his throat, Will glanced behind him. Samantha followed his gaze and thought she saw a slight shadow flitting across the sunshine pouring in through the glass window, but she quickly brushed it off as nothing. It was probably only some animal scavenging for free treats.

“I guessed this was a family-operated business by the name on the sign outside. You’re Samantha, the owner of the place and Seth’s sister. That’s the reason I asked specifically for you.”

“Yup, that’s me. My parents, Samuel and Amanda, recently retired and left the grocery to me,” Samantha explained. “It’s something of a legacy.”

“Indeed.”

Was he being condescending? Samantha’s hackles rose until she met his earnest gaze—not warm, by any means, but sincere and intense.

“And do you do this all by yourself, or do you have other employees?”

“I have a woman who comes in and prepares the fresh deli products—you know, potato salad and cooked hens and the like. We sell baked goods acquired by the local café. My parents come in a couple of days a week to help out.” She gestured to the rest of the store. “Other than that, you’re looking at her—manager, stocker, cashier and bag-person,” she said, relaxing a little. Maybe if she smiled at him he’d lose some of the somber tension from his face.

Smiles were supposed to be viral, right?

“Seth spoke of you often,” Will commented in the rich, quiet manner that Samantha was beginning to realize was his normal tone of voice—not at all what she’d expect from an Army guy, based on what she knew of her brother.

“I’m sorry I can’t say the same,” Samantha said, regarding Will with new eyes. “Unfortunately, Seth neglected to mention you.”

“He said you work too hard and never get a break, and frankly, he’s worried about you. That’s part of the reason I’m here—to take some of that burden from you.”

As he spoke, Samantha noticed that Will’s lips naturally turned down at the corners—they didn’t lend themselves to an easy grin.

“Seth and I realized we could assist each other in what could possibly be an advantageous relationship for both of us,” he continued. “Besides, you know your brother—once he gets something in his mind, it’s hard to convince him otherwise.” Will shrugged one shoulder. “So here I am.”

“I see,” she replied, though in truth, she didn’t. The way Will was speaking, it almost sounded like he was here against his better judgment.

It was definitely against Samantha’s. She wished Seth was here so she could knock him in the head. What was he thinking, sending someone who was probably a slap-happy, risk-taking adrenaline junkie to fill what was, for the most part, a repetitive and predictable position?

A slow job. Not that an employment opportunity really existed, but even if it did, nothing in Serendipity moved fast, nor did it change much from day to day. She couldn’t imagine how Will would adapt to such sluggish surroundings.

Wasn’t that part of the reason Seth had enlisted in the Army in the first place? To remove himself from a situation that would have eventually bored him to tears or sent him to the insane asylum? Samantha couldn’t see how he expected that Will would fare much better. This soldier had seen combat. Working day in and day out in the grocery would be the polar opposite.

But maybe that was the point. Maybe that was exactly what Will was looking for. Someplace quiet to get away from the memories of war.

Great. Now how was she going to politely turn the man away? Like she didn’t have enough problems already, trying to deal with the ever-increasing threat of a big-box takeover.

The bell rang over the door and her parents entered, their faces eager with anticipation. They rushed forward all at once in a gibber of exclamations, trying to be heard over each other to be the first to welcome Will to Serendipity.

Samantha reached for the Stay-n-Shop missive and tucked it under the counter.

“You must be William,” her mother said, stepping forward to embrace the poor man, who looked dreadfully uncomfortable with the public show of affection. He froze at attention like a statue, his arms stiff at his sides.

Her mother, with bountiful curves and a frizzy head of blond hair, was a good foot shorter than Will. At her tallest, she didn’t even reach the middle of his chest, but that didn’t stop her from exclaiming loudly and squeezing him in what others might consider an excessively friendly manner.

To Samantha, it was just her mother being her usual outgoing, jovial self, not noticing how uneasy she was making Will and chattering on as if nothing was amiss. “Seth has told us all about you. We’re so delighted you’ll be staying with us.”

Seth had told them about Will? And he’d be staying with them?

Two more shockers in a long day full of them.

Just lovely. Not only had Seth somehow arranged for Will to have a job at the grocery—apparently with her parents’ knowledge and concurrence, and without a word to her—but now he’d be staying with them, whatever that meant.

Happily, whatever they were referring to, it didn’t involve her, not directly anyway, since she lived in her own apartment close to the store. Her parents’ house was empty most of the time, as they were working on their retirement dreams—building a bed-and-breakfast. They’d recently purchased some land along a gentle creek and were renovating several old cottages situated close to the water, but the cabins weren’t yet ready for habitation. Seth’s room was vacant, but surely her brother would never agree to such an arrangement. Many of his personal belongings were still in that room, untouched, souvenirs from his boyhood saved like a time capsule for when he was home on leave.

“It’s good to meet you, son,” her father said, extending his hand to Will.

“Thank you, sir,” Will answered, clearly more comfortable with her dad’s welcome than that of her over-affectionate mother.

“It’s Samuel,” her father corrected in his typical booming bass. “And my wife here is Amanda. The only ‘sir’ around these parts is my pop, Grandpa Sampson, whom you’ll meet later, after you’ve settled in. We’re glad you’re here, and we’re grateful to God for your help, both in the store and with our cabins. They’re in dire need of repair before we can offer them to guests.”

“I’m happy to be able to help you folks out and appreciate your offer of lodging, at least until I can get permanently settled.”

So that’s what it was, then. Room and board in exchange for his carpentry skills. Not such a bad idea, though she still wondered why no one had bothered to mention to her that Will was going to show up at her doorstep and demand a job.

Okay, maybe that was putting it a little harshly. Will hadn’t exactly burst in and demanded a job. More like he’d simply assumed it was there—which, apparently, it was.

A simple “you’ve got a gorgeous ex-Army guy coming to work for you” would have been nice.

Samantha chuckled at her private joke. After the day she’d had, she either had to laugh or she was going to burst into tears. This was a lot to take in, and in a short time, too.

She pinched her lips, fighting the emotion surging through her chest, trying to sort out the mixed-up messages her heart was sending her brain and working not to give in to the indignant sense of betrayal she was experiencing.

Had everyone purposely kept her in the dark?

That stung more than she cared to admit. Why would her brother—never mind her parents—keep something this momentous from her? Did they not trust her? Did they think she wouldn’t welcome Will with open arms?

She glanced at her parents, now speaking in soft tones with Will, and wondered if anyone would miss her if she slipped out of the store for a few minutes. She needed to vent to someone, preferably Alexis and Mary, whom she was certain would see her side of this situation.

She pulled out her cell phone and used her thumbs as she texted: Gorgeous ex-Army guy just walked in.

That should pique their curiosity. If she knew Alexis and Mary, they’d show up at the grocery faster in the hopes of meeting an eligible bachelor than if she’d told them it was a 911 emergency.

She gazed toward the glass door, focusing on the sunshine. The sun always reminded her of her faith and it generally gave her peace.

And it did, for a moment, until she caught the hint of movement from behind the candy aisle—and an adorable little girl appeared.

* * *

Will followed Samantha’s gaze to where his four-year-old daughter, Genevieve, was peeking out from behind the candy aisle. All he could see of Genevieve from where he was standing was the thick mop of black curls that she had inherited from her mother and the large, inquisitive brown eyes that were very much a reflection of his own.

The scene would have been cute, he supposed, from virtually any other person’s vantage point—a curious yet clearly shy little girl hanging back to see how the adults responded before announcing her presence.

She was a little darling, and she stole Will’s heart every time he looked at her, but the little girl’s gaze also caused him a moment of sheer panic.

He was this child’s father. She depended entirely upon him, and he hadn’t given her any reassurance in this new and unfamiliar situation.

His throat closed and burned from the effort of withholding the onslaught of emotion. It was difficult to breathe, and his pulse roared in his head. Shame burned his cheeks. In all the confusion, he’d forgotten to introduce Genevieve.

She’d held back when they’d first entered, and he’d allowed her to stay near the door, thinking it would be easier for her if he served as point man. He supposed he’d expected her to come forward once he’d introduced himself to the management, so to speak.

Instead, she’d hidden in an aisle and stayed there—probably waiting for him to reassure her that everything was all right.

Which, to his chagrin, he had not done.

She was a furtive little thing—Seth’s parents hadn’t even seen her when they’d entered the store. But that was no excuse on his part.

This was not at all the impression he was trying to create with the Howells right off the bat, and most certainly not the way he wanted to treat his daughter. The fact that he felt entirely incompetent as a father was one thing. But he didn’t need to display his inadequacies for the whole world to see.

Meeting Seth’s older sister had really thrown him for a loop. Seth was a good-looking kid, so it should have been no surprise to him that his sister was an attractive woman. Samantha had straight, thick black hair cut in an appealing pixie style that showed off the endearing curl of her ears. She shared her brother’s enormous cobalt-blue eyes, but they were breathtaking on Samantha.

Will cleared his throat and stepped over to his daughter, awkwardly placing a hand on her shoulder as he gently urged her from her hiding place.

“Folks, this is my daughter, Genevieve.”

Genevieve immediately slid behind him, clutching at his legs and peering out at the unfamiliar people from behind his right knee. He crouched and picked her up in his arms. “Say hi to the nice folks.”

“Hi.” Genevieve said the word because her daddy had asked her to, but she didn’t sound convinced that she should be speaking to strangers.

“May your daughter have a lollipop?” Samantha asked, coming out from behind the counter. He turned and met her gaze. Was this a trick question? Was he supposed to decline and ask for an apple instead? What would a good father do in this situation?

“I—uh,” he floundered.

“She’s not allergic, is she?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think so.” How was he supposed to keep his daughter safe if he didn’t know vital things about her? He could accidentally put her in jeopardy without ever realizing he was doing so.

“Then perhaps just this once, since it’s such a special occasion.”

Will nodded, relief flooding through him. It was as if Samantha had somehow guessed that he hadn’t known how to answer her and was filling in the blanks for him. He was grateful for her assistance.

Then again, she had put just the slightest emphasis on the words special occasion. He had the distinct feeling Samantha was a little miffed at him. It wasn’t his fault she hadn’t known he was coming. She could point that finger at her brother.

“Hey, Genevieve,” Samantha said in a considerably sweeter, gentler tone of voice than she had used with Will. “Do you want to pick out a lollipop from the jar over there?”

She held out her hands, and to Will’s surprise, Genevieve slid into her arms without the slightest bit of fuss. The little girl’s eyes were still wide with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation, but she allowed Samantha to carry her to the candy jar. Samantha set Genevieve on the counter and lifted the lid so she could select the flavor of her choice.

Genevieve immediately picked purple. Grape. Will filed the information in his mind. Knowing Genevieve’s preferences might come in handy, especially if he was ever asked to choose something in his daughter’s stead—which he was beginning to realize was going come up more often than he could even imagine.

Clothes for school. Dresses. Shoes. Hair bows. What did he know about raising a little girl?

Nothing. Not a single thing.

Haley would have been able to pick out a lollipop for Genevieve. For all he knew, grape had also been Haley’s favorite.

He realized to his chagrin that he didn’t know what flavor his wife had preferred when she was alive. There were a lot of things he hadn’t taken the time to find out about Haley, and now it was too late to rectify his oversights, to make right all the many ways he’d erred as a husband.

He cringed and squared his shoulders. Maybe it was too late to change the way things had gone down with Haley, but he could still be a good father to Genevieve, and that was exactly what he was going to do—make it up to her for the years he’d been away, and never let her feel alone or unprotected again.

It was his one resolution in life—to make things right with his daughter.

“You want one?” Samantha asked, holding the candy bowl out to him. “It’s on me. Free of charge.”

Belatedly he realized he’d been staring at her and his composure nearly dropped. Only his many years of military training kept him from showing the apprehension that he felt in his gut.

For a moment, he’d actually considered taking the candy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tasted a lollipop. Maybe not since early childhood. But he wasn’t a kid anymore.

“No, but thank you for offering,” he answered after an extended pause.

“She’s a lovely little girl,” Amanda Howell said. “Seth mentioned you’re a single father?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Will’s throat felt scratchy and raw as he answered. “Genevieve’s mother passed away about four months back. My daughter stayed with my in-laws until my tour of duty was up, but now I’m looking to be a full-time daddy to her.”

“We’ll help you as much as we can,” Amanda assured him. “Isn’t that right, Samantha?”

“Hmm?” Samantha was entertaining Genevieve and clearly hadn’t heard her mother’s declaration.

“I was just telling Will how we’d help him out with his sweet little girl,” her mother repeated. “You’re especially good with children. Genevieve has already taken to you.”

Samantha’s blue eyes widened as she looked from her mother to Genevieve and back again. Then her gaze turned to Will. “I think my mom is referring to me teaching the preschool and kindergarten Sunday school classes at church,” she explained, shrugging one shoulder.

Teaching preschool and kindergarten. Those were pretty good credentials, as far as Will was concerned. As long as she didn’t press Genevieve too hard on spiritual matters, she might really be the help he needed.

If she wanted to help him. Considering the way her mother appeared to be pushing him on her, Will wasn’t so certain about that fact.

The bell rang over the door and everyone turned at once. Two women—one with windswept brown hair and green eyes, the other with long, straight blond hair pulled back in a ponytail—whirled into the place like a couple of dervishes on a mission.

“We came as soon as we heard,” the blond said, flicking her ponytail as she made her way straight for Will. “This must be the handsome guy you texted us about. And an ex-soldier, no less. Whew!”

Will looked at Samantha. She’d texted her friends about him? Maybe she wasn’t as put off by his appearance as she’d first appeared to be. In any case, she was definitely embarrassed now. Her face was bright scarlet, the poor woman, at the uncomfortable spot her friend had just placed her in.

Of course, they’d placed him in as equally tight a spot.

“My name is Alexis Granger. Very glad to meet you,” the blonde purred, holding out a hand for him to shake. She had a firm grip, not one of those faint finger-shakes so many women were fond of. She was dusty and dressed for riding, and Will could smell what he guessed must be horses, a distinct and peculiar scent to which his nose wasn’t accustomed.

It wasn’t bad, exactly. Just different. And it was just one of a million and one ways he’d discovered so far today how dissimilar Serendipity was from the big-city and military lifestyle he’d known in the past.

“I’m Mary,” the brunette said with shy nod. “Welcome to Serendipity.” At least she didn’t invade his personal space, although there was no doubt that she was eyeing him appreciatively. Between Samantha’s two friends, Will was starting to feel like the candy in that jar Samantha was holding.

“I’m William Davenport,” he said, shaking Mary’s hand. Her grip was softer than Alexis’s, more delicate. “Please call me Will.”

“Will is going to be staying in Serendipity,” Samantha explained. Her voice sounded high and strained to Will’s ears.

Both of her friends exclaimed in delight and high-fived each other. Didn’t they realize he was standing right here watching them?

Hello. Still in the room.

Mary and Alexis circled Samantha and launched into a garble of speech, but it was difficult for Will to make out what they were saying—and not because they were speaking in whispered tones.

Oh, no. Quite the opposite. They were chattering away like chickens in a henhouse, their voices high and staccato. Samantha held her hands up in protest and rolled her eyes.

Didn’t these people ever have visitors in their town? Or was it just the fact that he was a presumably single man that piqued their interest?

If that was what they were excited about, they were in for an enormous disappointment. Will wasn’t the least bit interested in a relationship here in Serendipity. He was here to work, and to get to know his little girl—and that was it.

No more. No less.

He’d already messed up one woman’s life with his attention—or lack thereof. He wouldn’t do it again.

“We were just discussing where Will and Genevieve will be living,” Amanda interjected, her voice a surprisingly reasonable, even tone compared to the younger women.

And he’d thought she was overly exuberant when he’d first met her.

“If he needs a place to stay, there’s plenty of room on my ranch,” Alexis offered with a flirtatious grin. “You could kick back with the stable hands. They’ve got a few extra bunks.”

“I’d invite you,” said Mary, her cheeks coloring a rose pink, “except that I live alone.”

“You’re not exactly alone with those gazillion dogs of yours,” Alexis amended with a hoot.

Mary chuckled. “What about asking Pastor Shawn for assistance?”

“Ladies,” Samuel said, toning down the conversation like a maestro controlling a symphony. “We’ve already got the details of Will’s living arrangements worked out to everyone’s satisfaction. He’ll be staying in one of our cabins along the creek and doing cabinetry work for us in exchange for room and board. Everybody wins.”

Samantha sputtered and looked like she was choking. Her face turned beet red and her mouth moved, but no words came out. Clearly, she didn’t believe everybody in this situation would win, but she caught herself and smiled at him.

Will clamped down on the emotions welling in his chest. She had no idea what her help meant to him. It wasn’t easy for him to humble his pride and accept assistance, but this wasn’t about him. It was about Genevieve, and he would do anything for his little girl.

With all he’d been through in the past months, appreciation didn’t even begin to cover what he owed the Howells for their goodwill. He didn’t know how to express it in words.

What he could do was pull his weight around here. He could shoulder some of the burden the grocery created. And he could get the B&B cabins into working condition and help the elder Howells realize their dreams.

“I’ll get moved into the cabin tonight, and then I’m ready to start work first thing in the morning,” he told Samantha.

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Tomorrow? Tomorrow is Sunday.”

“Right,” he agreed. “So?”

“So...the grocery isn’t open on Sundays.”

“Not at all?”

“Nope. The whole town rolls up at about six o’clock every night and all day on Sundays. You won’t find much of anything open around here during the evenings and half of the weekend. Serendipity is an old-fashioned town with old-fashioned ways.”

Will whistled through his teeth. “What do people do if they forget an ingredient for Sunday dinner?”

Samantha laughed. “Borrow from their neighbors or make do with what they have on hand. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Will muttered under his breath. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with, now he was living in a town that not only looked like a throwback to the late 1800s but acted like it, as well.

“You’re welcome to come to church with us tomorrow morning,” Samantha offered. “It’s a community congregation. You’ll have the opportunity to meet a lot of the townspeople.”

“No thanks,” he said abruptly, and then realized how bad that sounded. These people had been gracious to him. He cleared his throat. “That is to say, I’m not really much of a churchgoing man. I appreciate the offer, though.”

Samantha looked stunned and a little wounded, which surprised him.

“I’ll be meeting most of the town folks here at the grocery, won’t I?” he asked, in what he hoped was a more positive tone of voice.

“Certainly. Of course. You can meet people here at the store.” Samantha smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but surely he wasn’t the only man in town who didn’t believe in a feel-good deity who handed out free favors, or worse yet, an angry God who zapped people with bolts of lightning when He didn’t like what they were doing.

If he was going to believe in one of those, it would surely be the latter. His life hadn’t been graced with many favors.

But then again, if there was a God who punished people for their sins, he would have been deep-fried a long time ago.

Somehow, he thought there was probably more to Samantha’s request to join them at church tomorrow than just meeting folks from town. But now that he’d turned her down, he would never know.

Chapter Two

Sunday was Samantha’s only real day off. As she’d informed Will, Sam’s Grocery, like every other shop in town, was closed on Sundays. After she spent the morning playing the organ for the church and sharing a nice family dinner with her parents, Sunday afternoon was her time to kick back and relax, maybe read a romance novel or watch some television.

But today was a sunny day, and Samantha decided she didn’t want to stay indoors. Problems were plaguing her and she desperately needed some fresh air to clear her head.

Her first inclination was to go find her friends. She was certain that Mary and Alexis had plenty to say about Will. They’d probably already started making plans for landing him a wife here in Serendipity, possibly even tossing a coin as to which one of them would have the honor.

But Samantha didn’t really want to talk about Will. She didn’t even want to think about him, though unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to get him out of her head. She was still mildly resentful of the fact that he’d had been thrust into her life with no notice.

Still, thinking about Will was preferable to thinking about her other issue—the letter from Stay-n-Shop. She still had no idea how she was going to handle that matter.

She sighed. One problem at a time.

Since Will was on her mind anyway, maybe she could do something nice for him and Genevieve. Take them to the park, maybe?

She raised her head and smiled, making a conscious decision to put her fears aside for the day and concentrate on her faith. This was Sunday, after all.

Despite her reservations about her new employee, she didn’t have a heart of stone, and the guy had his plate full trying to take care of his little girl on his own. She had the impression he was determined to do his best despite the reticence she thought she sensed in him.

And Genevieve—the poor sweetheart, losing her mother at such a tender young age. Samantha had had a wonderful childhood with two parents who loved her and each other, and paternal grandparents who’d been married, well, forever, until her grandmother had passed away at age seventy-five last year. She couldn’t imagine what losing a mother must feel like—especially for a four-year-old.

Samantha didn’t know the specifics of how Genevieve’s mother had died, but she knew enough to know that the little girl was both frightened and confused by her new surroundings, and by suddenly having to live with a father she hardly knew.

Yesterday at the shop, Genevieve hadn’t smiled—not even when she was enticed with candy. Not even when her father picked her up in his arms. She’d barely spoken more than a word, though Samantha had encouraged her every way she knew how.

Did the child have some disability, or had recent circumstances and emotional issues just caused her to hide in her shell? She supposed only time would tell.

It didn’t help that Will wasn’t sure of himself as a father. Despite how strong he appeared upon first observation, she’d glimpsed the buck-in-the-headlights look when his eyes alighted on his daughter. That he loved her was evident. That he wasn’t sure what to do with her was equally evident. Samantha didn’t think he was as hopeless as he believed himself to be, but again, only time would tell on that count.

God had laid a lot on her plate in the past day. Will was here to stay, and somehow, she had to find a way to integrate him into her daily life. Like that was going to be easy. There was plenty of work to be done, and in truth Samantha was intrigued by the idea of having help, but not from the large, handsome ex-soldier.

She suspected he would be more of a hindrance than a help. Really, how could he not be? His size alone would be a hindrance—he’d be bumping into things all over the place. Besides, the store could only be described as slow and steady and the work was repetitive, with little beyond the daily routine to break up the monotony. He’d be bored one day into the job, and in her experience, bored men meant trouble.

Like her brother, for example, who couldn’t keep an inventory straight to save his life, not because he couldn’t count, but because he got sidetracked by every pretty girl who entered the store.

She sighed and reminded herself again that this was not a day for problems. She didn’t have the slightest idea what she was going to do with Will, but at least she had some idea of what to do with his daughter.

She walked up to the cottage door where Will and Genevieve were staying and paused a moment to collect herself. It wouldn’t do for Will to see that she was still struggling with her own feelings of frustration and resentment. Those were her issues, not his.

She knew that God would want her to be generous and charitable—but knowing the truth and feeling it were two different things entirely. Sometimes a woman just had to live by faith and wait for her heart to catch up to her.

She took a deep breath and knocked.

No one answered, so after a moment, she knocked again, harder this time.

“Hello,” she called. “Anybody home? It’s Samantha.” She thought about peering in the front window but decided it would be rude and might invade his privacy.

She’d just reached out to knock a third time when the door flew open and she nearly fell into the room. Will stood in the entrance holding Genevieve. The girl was wrapped in a green bath towel with a froggie face on the hood. Wet black curls framed her face and water dripped from her nose.

Will looked as if he’d taken a dunk. He was wearing worn blue jeans and an Army-issue tan T-shirt that was soaked with water, clinging to his chest and muscular arms. She couldn’t help but take a second look.

Samantha held back a chuckle when she realized he had bath bubbles clinging to the spiked blond hair on top of his head.

“You...uh...” she said, pointing awkwardly, “have...”

Instead of finishing her sentence, she reached up on tiptoe and scooped the bubbles into her palm. With a playful grin, she held them out to him so he could see.

“A new fashion statement?” she teased.

She thought that would bring a laugh—or at the very least a smile—but instead his expression darkened.

“I was trying to give Genevieve a bath,” he explained, as if it wasn’t perfectly obvious. “As you can see, my mission was an epic fail.”

Samantha smothered another laugh. Only an Army guy would consider giving his child a bath a mission. And how did one fail a bath, anyway?

Her gaze swept over Genevieve. “She looks clean enough to me.”

Will sighed. “Maybe. But you should see the state of the bathroom.” He gestured at his shirtfront. “Also, I hadn’t intended to give myself a bath in the process.”

Samantha made a final, valiant effort not to laugh at what Will clearly did not consider to be a humorous situation, but this time, a chuckle sputtered from her lips.

He looked at his shirtfront and then back at her, his twinkling chocolate-colored gaze mixing with hers. Her breath hitched.

“This is funny, isn’t it?”

“Well...yeah. Pretty much. Cute, too.”

“Cute?” He choked out the word, clearly appalled by the notion.

“I meant Genevieve,” she assured him, though in all honesty, Will, with his wet clothes and bath bubbles in his hair, was every bit as adorable as his little girl.

Which was precisely what Samantha suspected a man’s man like Will Davenport would not want to know about himself.

There was no doubt in Samantha’s mind that every unmarried woman in Serendipity—except for her, of course—was going to be doing all she could to catch Will’s eye. Will was going to have his work cut out for him.

“I came by to see if you and Genevieve might like to join me for a picnic in the park.” She lofted the picnic basket she carried in her left hand. “I’ve got ham, turkey, fresh rolls, some fruit and cheese. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I threw in a little bit of everything.”

He eyed the basket speculatively and then shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I think Genevieve might feel overwhelmed playing at a park with a bunch of kids she doesn’t know.”

“Is she normally shy around other children?”

He frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Well, then, there’s no harm in trying, is there? If she’s not enjoying herself, we can always bring her back home. But I suspect she may surprise you.”

He glanced behind him, as if remembering something important he had forgotten to do. “I’ve still got a lot to accomplish to get us settled in before I start work in the morning.”

She could hear the hesitation in his voice, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he felt a duty to get his things in order, or because he didn’t want to go with her and was searching for a polite way to decline her invitation.

“Oh, come on,” she urged. “You have to eat.”

“I’m hungry,” announced Genevieve.

Will’s gaze met Samantha’s and they both chuckled. He tapped the tip of his daughter’s nose. “Well, then, Monkey,” he said, reaching to take the picnic basket from Samantha, “I guess we’d better get you dressed so Miss Howell can take us to the park.”

* * *

Leaning on one elbow, Will stretched his legs out on the picnic blanket and popped a bit of a fresh whole-wheat roll into his mouth, savoring the way it melted on his tongue. The roll was perfectly baked, just the way he liked it—crispy outside and soft inside.

Samantha, Will was quickly learning, was a lot like the bread she’d brought—a little hard on the outside, at least upon first meeting, but a real softy inside.

Samantha shrieked playfully as Genevieve chased her. The little girl was, as Samantha had predicted, having a wonderful time in the park, both with the other children and with Samantha, who at first hovered protectively nearby without making Genevieve feel uncomfortable, and then flat-out joined in the games.

The kids accepted Samantha as if she was one of their own, as if it wasn’t odd to see an adult crawling through their tunnels and climbing over the bars on their jungle gym. They laughed and played alongside her, even giving her a turn on the slide when she asked.

Will watched with amusement as Samantha worked up a little too much speed sliding down and, with a screech of surprise, landed on her backside, creating a cloud of dust in the sand.

Will was on his feet in an instant, offering her a hand up.

“That looked like it hurt,” he commented as she brushed the sand from her jeans.

She beamed at him, her blue eyes sparkling. “The only ache is my dignity, and I don’t have much of that to begin with.”

Her lack of self-consciousness made Will a little jealous. He’d spent his whole life striving for decorum and honor, and yet he knew perfectly well that he had failed in every way possible to be a man. He’d never been able to please his own father. He hadn’t been a good husband and father himself. He’d hurt the people he’d professed to love. Besides that, he wasn’t ignorant of the fact that, with his naturally pessimistic personality, he came off as a regular old sourpuss, whereas Samantha, with seemingly effortless ease and grace, laughed at the world—and more importantly, at herself—and was a better person for it.

Though it pained him to admit it, he clearly had a lot to learn from the woman.

Genevieve ran up and tugged on the bottom of his shirt. “Swing me, swing me, Daddy,” she begged, smiling up at him.

Smiling.

That hadn’t happened much in the little girl’s life lately. She hadn’t had much to smile about.

Will’s heart melted right there on the spot. What a beautiful child she was. He could see her mother in her, but what really choked him up was that he could see himself in her, as well. How had such a lovely little thing come from a soul as ugly as his?

“All right, Monkey,” he agreed. “Let’s go swing.” He lifted her into his arms and headed for the swing set. He intended to deposit her into one of the safety swings, the ones with four sides and holes for the legs.

“No, Daddy,” Genevieve protested. “I want to swing on the big-girl swing.”

Will glanced at Samantha, hoping she’d give him some much-needed direction. He didn’t want to make the wrong decision and end up hurting his daughter.

“Yeah. Come on, Dad. The big-girl swing,” Samantha echoed with a laugh.

Will realized that what he’d really wanted was Samantha to back him up on the decision he had already made, not agree with Genevieve. He was loath to admit that he was scared half out of his wits that his daughter would lose her balance and fall to the ground.

If she got hurt, it was all on him.

Both Samantha and Genevieve were looking at him expectantly, waiting for his decision. He didn’t see any way out of it now. He was good and stuck. He set his jaw as he perched Genevieve on the big-girl swing, waiting until she had a good hold on the chains before giving her a gentle push.

“Higher, Daddy. Higher!”

“Honey, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Will responded, once again glancing at Samantha for support, sure that she’d back him up on this one. Genevieve was so little, and the swing so high. It was a long way to fall.

Samantha laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “Don’t you remember when you were a little kid, what a thrill you got from swinging just as high as you could?”

Will cringed. He couldn’t remember much from his own childhood, at least not much that he cared to recall. He knew he hadn’t had a lot of playground time, not even when he was young. He’d had a strict father who believed children should be busy working for the food they ate. His father had never been happy with Will’s performance, no matter how hard he’d tried.

The memory of his father’s bitter voice echoed through his head. You can’t go to church. Church is for good people. You are not good. Will had spent all his time doing chores and studying for school and dreaming of the moment he’d be old enough to leave that house permanently.

The day he’d turned eighteen, he’d enlisted in the U.S. Army, and he hadn’t ever looked back.

He wasn’t going to let his daughter feel that way about her life.

With a whoop and a smile, he pulled Genevieve back and pushed, giving her the freedom to fly.

Chapter Three

“Yes. No. Maybe so.” Genevieve repeated the words Samantha had taught her, a game she and her brother had played as a child. The little girl’s high-pitched laughter pealed through the otherwise silent store, and Samantha’s heartbeat rose in crescendo. She’d really grown to care for the little girl in the days since Will and Genevieve had so suddenly entered her life.

Samantha held Genevieve around the waist as the girl perched on the counter in Sam’s Grocery and swung her feet in rhythm to the chant. Since it was summer, Genevieve was staying with Samantha’s parents while Samantha and Will worked in the store, but the older couple had come into town to pick up some supplies from the hardware store and had dropped the girl off for a quick visit with her papa.

Samantha thought perhaps Will would join in the fun, but he just leaned his shoulder against the back wall, crossed his arms, and silently observed, his expression as unreadable as always. He was either angry about something or bored out of his skull. For all his glowering, Samantha had found Will to be a kind and soft-spoken man, so she guessed it was the latter.

Genevieve was clearly an expert at amusing herself and had quickly picked up on the game. Taking her cue from Samantha, she nodded, then shook her head and then shrugged offhandedly as she repeated the phrase over and over again, laughing all the more as her voice echoed throughout the store.

“Yes. No. Maybe so.”

“Practicing to be a grown woman, Monkey?” Will asked, walking to the counter and ruffling his daughter’s curly black hair affectionately.

Samantha practically did a double take. Had he cracked a joke? That would be a first. Will rarely spoke, and even when he did, he was solemn both in word and expression. Samantha sensed a golden opportunity here to draw him out of his shell a bit.

“Hey, now,” she protested. “Watch it there, mister. You’re in the company of a grown woman. You’re going to get in trouble if you keep talking that way.”

Will’s left eyebrow darted upward. He wasn’t smiling, exactly, but the corner of his mouth moved just a little. “Just sayin’.”

Samantha sniffed in feigned offense. “No comment.”

At least it appeared he was trying, which was enormous, not only for his own sake, but for his daughter’s. Genevieve needed a father who could let go and laugh once in a while. Will wouldn’t be qualifying as a stand-up comic any time soon, but his jest was more lighthearted than anything else she’d ever heard from him. It was progress.

“What have we got on our agenda today?” Will asked, his expression fading into the serious demeanor Samantha now associated with him, the creases around his eyes and over his forehead deepening as his brows lowered.

“Not much,” she answered, nodding her head toward the stockroom. “We’ve got a few boxes of canned vegetables to put out on the shelves. If you feel so inclined, you can give everything a good dusting before you place the product.” She reached under the counter and grabbed a large ostrich-feather duster, waving it like a flag on the Fourth of July.

The look on his face was priceless, somewhere between pure surprise and utter mortification.

“You want me to dust with that?” he choked out.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“No.” He answered too fast, clearly backpedaling. “It’s just that...”

She raised a brow.

“I am going to look ridiculous using a feather duster. Do you want me to wear a frilly apron, as well?”

“Like a fifties housewife, you mean?”

He coughed. If it was anyone but Will, Samantha might have mistaken it for a laugh. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

She laughed, reached under the counter again and tossed a rag at him. “Better?”

“Much,” he agreed, shifting from one foot to another and rustling the tips of his hair with his free hand. His lips pursed as he glanced from Samantha to Genevieve and back. She had the notion that he wanted to say something more, but he turned away without a word.

The man was already getting antsy. How on earth was she going to keep him busy? He was used to an exciting, fast-paced military lifestyle, not front-facing cans of green beans on a grocery shelf.

“I’ll bring out the boxes of vegetables then.” Without another word, he moved into the back room. She could hear him stacking boxes of cans onto a cart, and after a moment, he brought them to the shelves.

Samantha continued to play with Genevieve. She was glad to see the little girl coming out of her shell. School would be starting soon. The small, close-knit Serendipity classroom might be exactly what the girl needed to help her get past the trauma she’d experienced with her mother’s death. Samantha hoped so, for Will’s sake as well as Genevieve’s.

She served the few customers who came and went, greeting each by name and asking about their lives. Often she could guess what they’d come in after without them having to say. That was what it was like living and working in Serendipity, and a big part of what Samantha loved about serving people as the grocery manager.

To her surprise, Will enjoyed speaking to the folks who’d stopped by. Though she’d expected him to be ruffled by the intimacy, the small-town dynamic didn’t appear to be affecting him at all. He greeted everyone who came through the store with a friendly smile, taking the time to introduce himself and relay the brief story of how he came to be in Serendipity. Oddly, he didn’t seem to mind repeating the tale over and over again.

Folks were curious, and Samantha knew that by the end of this week, if they didn’t know already, most of the town would be aware she had a new employee. She was certain Mary and Alexis had already spread the word, igniting interest in the handsome, quiet, widowed soldier. Once the news reached Jo Spencer—the woman who ran the local café, and the town’s biggest gossip—the blaze would turn into a wildfire. She’d have to fight off the horde of single women who’d be lining up at the door to the shop, making up reasons to visit the grocery while waiting for Will to notice them. There had already been more than a few who’d come in with nothing more than a pack of chewing gum on their lists.

Well, maybe Will would be good for business. Samantha snorted and gave her head a quick shake. That kind of business she really didn’t need, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

At the moment, any business was good business, however it came about.

Thoughts of Stay-n-Shop loomed in her mind, but Samantha pushed them back. She was still praying about what course of action to take on that matter. She didn’t have a lot of time, but she knew better than to act rashly without first seeking God’s wisdom in the Word and in prayer.

What do I do, Lord? Please make Your will clear to me.

Those were the same words she’d silently repeated dozens of times over the past week, and she knew she was running out of time. Make Your will known.

It wasn’t long before Samantha’s parents stopped by and picked up Genevieve, and the store seemed too quiet without the little girl around. Odd, since before Will and Genevieve, she’d often been the only one in the grocery. She’d never noticed the silence before.

Samantha hunkered over the dry-goods inventory—the one she hadn’t finished on Saturday due to Will’s arrival—looking up only when one of her neighbors, Delia Bowden, appeared outside the door. Delia’s right arm was laden with her newborn daughter, Faith, in an infant car seat while she managed her active toddler, James, with the other.

Delia usually brought her teenage son, Riley, to help out with the groceries, but today he was nowhere to be seen. No big surprise, Samantha supposed. The boy was getting to that age where he didn’t want to be seen shopping with his mother.

Will opened the door for Delia, welcoming her into the store with a smile and procuring a cart for her so she could set Faith’s car seat in the front. Samantha was still marveling at the way he turned into a different person when he was around the customers. It was odd—and unsettling—that he could turn the charm on and off like a light switch. Especially since it was usually off around her.

“Hey, Will?” she called, waving him forward.

He strode toward her, his smile disappearing. She was beginning to wonder if he just didn’t like her. It wasn’t that she thought he was purposefully trying to hurt her feelings, but she wasn’t sure how she would be able to keep working with him every day if he didn’t lighten up a bit. Her heart wasn’t made of stone. And it did hurt.

“As you can see, Delia has her hands full with her kiddos,” she said, gesturing to the woman and her children.

“Yeah. I noticed.”

“It would be a great kindness to her if you could help her with her shopping.”

“Help her?” He shook his head. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying. I already got her a cart.”

“I noticed. It was very thoughtful of you. I was thinking you could, you know, push the cart for her, retrieve groceries from the shelves, especially the high ones. Just give her a hand in general—whatever she needs.”

“Wow,” he said, whistling under his breath. He almost smiled at her. “Talk about customer service.”

Samantha laughed. “That’s how we do it in the country. Up close and personal.”

“I’ll say.” Now he was teasing her. Honestly! The man was jerking her strings. “As I’m sure you’re becoming increasingly aware, everything is more difficult with children in tow.”

“Tell me about it. I can’t seem to get anything done when Genevieve is with me. It’s all I can do just to keep up with her.”

There it was. Finally. A real half smile. He shrugged one shoulder and strode toward Delia and her children, and offered his assistance with a grin.

Samantha’s breath caught in her throat. Will was quite attractive when he relaxed—which he never seemed to do around her.

“You’re staring,” said a high-pitched voice from beside her. Samantha started, audibly gasping and laying a hand to her racing heart as she turned.

“Where did you come from?” she asked Alexis, who was grinning like the cat who ate the canary. Mary stood beside her, a smirk on her face that said she shared Alexis’s good humor—at Samantha’s expense.

“Back door,” Alexis replied with an offhanded wave. “Same as always.”

That was the problem with back doors, Samantha decided. They could allow best friends to sneak up on her. There was no bell to announce them, although with the twitter they usually made, she was surprised she hadn’t heard them coming.

“Did you ever think about knocking?” she groused.

Alexis hoisted one dark blond brow. “And why would we do that?”

She was right, of course, though Samantha was loath to admit it. There was no good reason for her friends to all of a sudden start knocking when they stopped by. They’d been visiting the shop unannounced since they were all in kindergarten together. This had to be the one and only time they hadn’t made enough noise to be a circus parade—and of course it was when she’d really needed them to broadcast themselves.

This time, they’d come in on the sly and caught her staring at Will—which, of course, Alexis had announced in a none-too-quiet voice. It was unlikely that he hadn’t heard her outburst.

“We’ve been here for a while now,” Mary added. “We were eavesdropping on you and Will from the back room. That little girl Genevieve sure is a cutie. And Will is—” She broke off her statement with a sigh. “If you ask me, there’s potential.”

Samantha did not want to ask what kind of potential her dear friends had in mind.

“How is Sergeant Sweetheart working out for you?” Alexis asked with a loud chuckle. “Have you set a date yet?”

Will glanced in their direction, his brown eyes flickering with surprise. Samantha knew the best part of valor in this instance would be retreat.

Quickly.

“Sidebar,” Samantha hissed, shaking her head. She grabbed each of her friends by an elbow and propelled them into the back room. “He was a corporal. And would you mind not bringing attention to him?”

“He’s handsome,” Mary disputed. “And single. You’re single. I don’t see the problem with it.”

“Okay, there are a lot of problems,” Samantha said, “but let me just start with three. One, he isn’t single—he’s a widower. Quite recently, I might add. Two, he is shy. And three, he is here to build a relationship with his daughter, not to have a romantic tryst with me, or any other woman in Serendipity, for that matter.”

“Strong and silent,” Alexis said, stroking her chin thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Not shy. Strong and silent. That’s more poetic.”

“More romantic, you mean,” Samantha corrected. “And I don’t like the insinuation in your tone, thank you very much.”

“Will lost his wife, but that doesn’t mean he has to be alone forever,” Mary protested. “He deserves someone special in his life. I’m not saying you’re going to marry him tomorrow or anything, but you could at least give him a chance when he’s ready to move on.”

“What I’m giving him,” Samantha explained, thoroughly exasperated with both of them, “is space. And that’s what you two ought to be doing, too. He’s still grieving. Leave the poor man alone.” She knew as she said it that that wasn’t likely to happen.

Her friends would keep pushing and she’d balk, just like always. Whenever she’d start dating, her friends would be quick to call for further commitment, but it never happened that way. She’d find some reason or other to break things off.

She didn’t know why. As cliché as it might be, it wasn’t the men, it was her. She believed marriage was God uniting two hearts in an inexplicable way. And until she found that, she saw no point in pursuing anything with anybody. Especially not with Will, who wasn’t even a Christian.

“Samantha?” Will called from the front room. “Can you give me a hand? I’m having a bit of trouble with the register.”

It didn’t surprise her that Will couldn’t pick up on the rusty machine. The cash register was older than she was, the ancient iron punch-the-dollar-sign kind that had faded out with the advent of the first computer. It fit the country feel of the grocery, though, so Samantha had kept it. She’d been using it for so many years she didn’t think twice about it, but she could definitely see where Will might get confused.

“I’m going back in there to serve my customers,” Samantha whispered. “And you two are going to get out of here and leave us in peace. Please, please promise me that you won’t put Will on the spot.”

“Yes. No. Maybe so,” Alexis responded with a matchmaking gleam in her eye.

* * *

“So what do you do for fun around here?” Will asked as he swept dust out the front door and across the clapboard sidewalk. Samantha had just turned the sign from Open to Closed and they were cleaning up before leaving for the night. “Ride horses?”

He thought it seemed like a reasonable question. So far he’d seen a lot of trucks on the road, and at least an equal number of horses on the ranchland he passed as he walked every morning from the Howells’ bed-and-breakfast to the store, and then back again each evening.

Samantha stopped wiping the front window she’d just sprayed with glass cleaner and narrowed her eyes, one hand drifting to perch on her hip. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know. I guess because I noticed the old hitching post in front of Cup o’ Jo’s Café when I passed it this morning. Watering trough, too, I think. The thing looks like it’s been there for a hundred years.”

Samantha shrugged. “It probably has been. Folks do occasionally use it when they stop at Cup o’ Jo’s, if they’re out riding that way. It doesn’t happen very often, though. We’re not quite as backward here as you might imagine.”

He held up his hands. “Innocent observation. No offense meant.”

“None taken.” Samantha laughed. The sound was unmistakably feminine and it mixed Will’s insides all up. He cast around for something to say.

“Your friend Alexis reeked of horse when I met her.” As soon as he said the words he realized how awful they sounded. He was used to saying what he thought without sifting it through the filter of what was appropriate in mixed company. Being around Samantha really messed with his head.

She lifted her chin, regarding him closely, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. He turned his gaze back to the cracked wooden clapboard and swept harder. It made him uncomfortable when she looked at him that way. Tingly all over, like last year when he’d caught a bad case of the flu and had suffered a raging fever of over a hundred and two degrees.

He remembered the incident well. It had already been inconceivably hot in Afghanistan, even without his fever. Every inch of his skin had felt like it was on fire, just as it did now. His breath came shallow and ragged, and his chest hurt with every lungful of air.

Not that being with Samantha was anything like catching the flu. It was a poor analogy, but it was the best he was able to do at the moment.

He couldn’t pull the wool over his own eyes. He recognized the symptoms. The honest symptoms.

The bottom line was, Samantha was attractive in all the right ways.

“Sorry,” he apologized gruffly. “My bad.”

Again, Samantha chuckled. “No need. You’re just saying it like it is. I don’t think Alexis would be offended by your observation. She’s a rancher and spends most of her time in the saddle.”

“You’re not easily affronted, are you?”

Her blue eyes locked onto him, and every nerve ending in his body sparked to life. The emotions rushing through him engaged him in a way he couldn’t even label. “Why would I be? If you can refrain from any more insults about women and erratic behavior, we’re all good. Yes, No, Maybe So is more than a kid’s game—it’s a lady’s prerogative. And don’t you forget it.”

Will chuckled. The woman was really something. She kept him on his toes. To his surprise, he found that he enjoyed working with her far more than he’d ever believed he would when Seth had first approached him with the idea.

But then again, he hadn’t yet met Samantha.

“Why don’t you see if you can find something to do in the back room while I tally the register?” she said, moving back to the counter and tucking the window spray and her rag underneath.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, surprising himself with how upbeat he sounded. His heart felt lighter, too. Was he actually relaxing a little bit? Taking the edge off that gut-slicing sensation of guilt which usually burdened him?

As he entered the back room, his eyes scanned over the bins and boxes, looking for something to keep his hands and mind occupied.

There really wasn’t much to do. Samantha kept her store in tip-top condition. Even her desk was spotless. Neither a paper nor a pen was misplaced.

He’d seen how hard she worked, even when she didn’t have to. She was motivated by something beyond his comprehension, and everything she did, she did with a joyful heart. He’d never seen anything like it.

Will moved some of the boxes from the higher shelves onto the lower ones, making room for new product. Samantha was a tiny little pixie of a woman, five feet four at max. How had she possibly done all the heavy lifting all these years? Some of these boxes were heavier than she was, not to mention that the topmost shelves were completely out of her reach. The notion of her toting heavy boxes using only a footstool or ladder made his stomach twist in knots.

Whether she knew it or not, she would no longer be slinging heavy boxes around the back room. Not on his watch. He had just appointed himself Samantha’s own personal muscle.

He scoffed at himself and shook his head.

He was here to do a job, which was the important thing. This was what he and Seth had talked about—how Will could fix Samantha’s problems for her. That’s all this was.

Will sorted through the inventory, organizing the boxes by category, rotating them according to date and lining them squarely over each other. He placed the older inventory within easy reach and shelved the newer products up top. It was only when he was nearly finished that he noticed that a small box of chewing-gum packages had been wedged in the far back corner against the wall. He’d missed it on his first go-round, and since the candy aisle was looking a little thin, he reached for it, thinking he’d stock the shelf with the extra bundles of gum.

He wasn’t paying that much attention to what he was doing until he realized that moving the box forward revealed a file of papers wedged between the box and the wall. He couldn’t conceive of how they’d gotten there. It was almost as if they’d been placed there on purpose.

Samantha must have been doing paperwork and had set the file down on the shelving unit, where it had been accidentally lodged behind the box and subsequently forgotten. It was probably nothing she couldn’t live without, since obviously she wasn’t tearing up the store looking for it, but he thought he should probably place it on her desk for her to deal with at her convenience.

As he set the box of gum aside, he bumped the folder and several papers fell to the ground. They were letters written on upscale paper, the fancy masthead declaring some prestigious law firm based out of New York: Bastion and Bunyan and Turner, Esquire.

The name sounded pretentious to Will, but then, he didn’t care for lawyers. His only brush with them was after Haley had legally separated from him, and that had been bad news all around. In his opinion, lawyers tended to be seedy types more interested in making money than representing their clients with integrity and honesty.

But what did Samantha need with a bunch of New York lawyers?

Even with his curiosity piqued, Will had no intention of snooping, but his gaze unintentionally drifted over the first paragraph of the missive in his hands.

His breath hitched sharply as he realized what he was reading.

A threat against Sam’s Grocery, written in particularly nasty legalese, on behalf of the giant corporation Stay-n-Shop. Apparently they wanted to buy out her store and replace it with one of theirs, as they had with other small groceries in the area. But they weren’t asking—they were demanding. This was their third and final offer. And if she refused...

It was now a great deal more than curiosity that led him to flip through the rest of the correspondence. This was personal, engaging his warrior’s heart.

These letters were menacing coercions from an adversary. And they’d been intentionally hidden. Will was sure of it. Anger stiffened his joints.

Maybe it was none of his business, but he was working for the Howells, for Samantha, and he couldn’t imagine what they must be going through right now. Samantha must be frightened half out of her wits with this big corporation coming down on her the way it was.

What he did know for certain was that there was no way Samantha would allow herself to be coerced into selling. Not for any price. He hadn’t been around the Howells for very long, but it was long enough for him to know they were a close-knit family in a close-knit community—and he’d heard dozens of stories about what life was like growing up in Serendipity from Seth.

Sam’s Grocery was Samantha’s legacy. She’d even been named after the store—or rather, for it. No way was Stay-n-Shop going to take it away from her. Inconceivable.

He didn’t hear Samantha until she was right behind him.

“Hey, what kind of music do you like? We can change the radio station if you want. I know country music isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.”

Will instinctively drew the letters against his stomach, as if he could hide them from her. He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter to me. I don’t much care for music.”

“How can a person not like music?” She sounded as astonished as if he’d just declared that he was originally from Pluto.

He shrugged. “I don’t dislike it. It just doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. Country, hip-hop, pop. Whatever. It’s all the same to me.”

“Okay,” she responded, drawing out the word in a way that indicated she either didn’t believe him or else thought he was off his rocker.

Or maybe both.

Will slowly turned around. “I rearranged your shelves,” he said. Her eyes landed on the folder in his hands, and she blanched.

“You did what?”

“I pulled all of the older stock off the top shelves to make room to store the new product that will be coming in on Monday. I also rotated everything according to date.” He held up the letters.

“And I found those letters Stay-n-Shop sent you.”

For a moment, she just stared at them, wide-eyed and openmouthed. Her face went from white to green around the gills to a burning-torch red in a matter of seconds.

“Give me those,” she snapped, snatching them from his fist and hiding them behind her back as if her action would somehow erase them from his memory.

“Don’t you think we ought to talk about it?” he prodded gently. He wanted to know what her strategy was so they could plan their next move. It didn’t even occur to him that it wasn’t his place to help her put this problem to rights. This was war—the more troops, the better.

“This is my private business,” she hissed. “Butt out.”

Well, that was straightforward and to the point.

It was also wrong.

“I can help, if you’ll let me,” he offered, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. The woman looked like she needed consoling and every instinct in him was screaming to do just that—and more. He suddenly pictured holding her close, wrapping his arms protectively around her, brushing his palm across the softness of her cheek.

His breath left his lungs in a rush, as if he’d been punched in the gut. He took a mental step backward. What was he thinking? He had no right to even consider acting out emotions he didn’t understand himself. He couldn’t—and wouldn’t—hurt her as he’d done to others.

“I’m just sayin’. I work for you now—for Sam’s Grocery. It’s my livelihood, too, and I’ve got a daughter to look after. Clearly I have a vested interest in keeping this store alive and kicking.”

Samantha gasped and then turned and fled the room. Will stared after her, astonished. He’d thought his explanation regarding his investment in her battle was unambiguous. Logical. Rational. So why had she run out that way? Hadn’t she understood that he was saying he had her back in this fight?

Apparently not.

Chapter Four

Samantha bolted through the back door and into the country sunlight. Her chest was heaving and burning. She took big gulps of air, yet she felt as if no oxygen was reaching her lungs.

Will wanted to help, did he?

And for such laudable reasons, too. Not because he was concerned about her or her family, but because Sam’s Grocery was his current place of employment. He was only worried about himself—but then, why wouldn’t he be? He didn’t know the Howells well enough to put himself out for them.

It wasn’t like he’d have to worry about a job once Stay-n-Shop got their way and moved into town. Once they’d built their new store, Will would no doubt have his choice of any of a dozen positions, with his experience as a supply specialist in the Army. They’d be knocking down his door.

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