Finding Home (Montana Born Homecoming Book 2) (19 page)

T
he sound of
knocking nudged at Logan’s consciousness, but not enough to bring him fully awake. He shifted to his side, and immediately Sam adjusted her position, curling her back against him. He pulled her tight and let the sweet simmer of desire build again.

They’d made love twice more during the night and if he had his way, they’d stay in bed all day.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Logan?” called a voice.

His eyes flew open, just as he recognized the sound of a key turning in the lock.

He sprang to his feet.

“Wassa matter?” murmured Sam without moving.

“Someone’s here,” he said, yanking on his clothing.

From downstairs came the clatter of footsteps – definitely plural – and cheery voices.

“What?!” Sam sat up in bed, her hair adorably dishevelled, her face still flushed with sleep and lovemaking. “Who?”

“I’ll find out.”

*

“Mama, you’re pulling,”
complained Jade, as Samara brushed her hair.

“Sorry, sweetie, but we’ve got surprise guests downstairs.”

Jade’s face darkened. “Who is it?”

“Don’t know yet. Let’s go downstairs and find out.”

She braced herself but Jade took her hand without complaint.

Sam tried not to resent the invasion downstairs. It was probably for the best anyway. If whoever it was hadn’t stopped by, she and Logan would have stayed in bed and if they’d stayed in bed…

She shivered.

“Bob’s hungry, Mama.”

The dog wagged her tail hopefully.

Sam turned off the bathroom light, then glanced once more at the mirror, unable to resist the memory of Logan’s body pressed against her. Watching in the reflection as water sluiced over his muscles, as he ran the bar of soap over her body, as he licked droplets off her breasts and trailed his tongue lower and lower.

“Mama!”

She jerked her head. What was wrong with her?

“Sorry, baby.”

As they walked down the stairs, she forced herself to focus on the reality at hand. She had boxes to unpack, food to buy and – according to dust and smears visible in the bright morning sunshine – a lot of cleaning to do first.

Whatever happened later, well, there was no time to think about that now.

She followed the voices to the kitchen and pasted on a smile.

A crowd of faces turned to her. Or at least, it seemed like a crowd. Eliza was there, and Sage and Dawson, a couple of Logan’s students and some other people she couldn’t put names to.

Jade shrank back behind her legs.

“There they are!” Immediately Logan came forward. “Look, Sam, reinforcements have arrived. Eliza organized a cleaning party.”

So she could see. They’d come equipped with brooms, mops, buckets, sponges, everything they could possibly need. They’d thought of everything.

Sam put a hand against her chest, overwhelmed and ashamed of her earlier resentment.

“I brought muffins, too,” said Eliza. She stepped up quickly, her cheeks pink. “I’m so sorry about yesterday, Samara.”

“You had your own worries,” she managed. “This is incredible, Eliza! You didn’t have to do this.”

Sage frowned. “Wait. What worries, Eliza?”

Eliza’s face got even redder. She was obviously twisted with guilt. “Oh, it’s nothing. A mix-up at the bank, that’s all. Thank goodness Samara was there to take Aunt Mabel to the hospital.”

“Everything worked out,” said Sam. “That’s the main thing, right?”

Logan squeezed her shoulder, smiling. The compassion in those beautiful eyes and the easy grin felt like a landing pad, a safe place for her to come home to.

“Have some coffee before it gets cold,” said Sage. “There are breakfast sandwiches on the table, too, for whoever wants.

She handed Sam a pretty beribboned box labeled Copper Mountain Chocolate.

“Because no one should ever have to clean house without chocolate,” said Sage with a smile. “Don’t open it now, though. It’s not for sharing.”

A groan rose from behind them.

“Don’t worry.” Sage revealed another box, this one without ribbons. “I brought seconds for the rest of you.”

The groan turned to a cheer.

“Of course,” Sage lowered her voice and winked, “I suppose you could share it with Logan. Later.”

“Mama?” Jade tugged on her shirt, sparing Sam from answering Sage. “Bob wants to play outside with Savannah.”

Jade pointed out the open door to where the girl was waving at them.

“Go ahead,” said Sam. “There’s a muffin here for Bob when she’s ready.”

Jade dashed off, the dog at her heels.

“Can I get you some breakfast?” Logan spoke quietly as people gathered supplies and dispersed to their various tasks. “I know I worked up quite an appetite last night.”

He was pressed up against her, their sides touching. She could feel the solidness of his hip against hers, the warmth of his body, the welcome weight of his arm.

“I could eat,” said Sam. “But I feel bad, all these people here, for me. Who has time to do something like this?”

She gestured to the bustling crew moving about the kitchen.

Suddenly Eliza was at her side again.

“Listen here, Samara Davis.” A smile softened her words. “You’re not used to accepting help. You’re independent; I get that. But you’re not in Manhattan anymore. You’re in Marietta. We help each other out. You did it last night for Mabel. We’re doing it now, for you. It’s what we do. So can you just let us? Please?”

Sam laughed, in spite of herself.

“Okay,” she answered helplessly. She stepped away from Logan and turned in a circle, her arms spread, encompassing the soon-to-be-friends, in her forever-home. Tears thickened her voice. “Thank you. Thank you, everyone.”

“You’re welcome.” Eliza cleared her throat and turned away. “Dawson O’Dell, Sage told us how you clean bathrooms at home. You’re not going to get away with that here.”

*

“Where are we
going?” Sam asked, laughing as Logan pulled her along by the hand.

He owed Eliza Bramble big-time, for organizing the whirlwind cleaning blitz that had just ended.

And then, Savannah O’Dell had begged her father to invite Jade to their house, which left Sam’s evening open, perfect for the surprise Logan had in store for her.

“You’ll see.”

With his other hand, Logan patted his jacket pocket. His heart was thumping. He was as nervous as he had been that same day, sixteen years ago. Worse, in fact. They were adults now. The stakes were that much higher.

When they got to the high-school stadium, he led her to the bleachers.

“Our spot,” said Samara.

Was he imagining it, or did she sound nervous too?

“Our spot,” he agreed. “Only we’ll stay topside tonight. We can watch the stars better.”

“Good thinking. Grass stains don’t have quite the appeal they once did anyway.”

They sat down together, snug against each other. He wanted her closer.

She leaned back, resting her elbows on the tread behind them, a position that made her breasts jut out. In less than a week, he thought, her curves had gotten lusher. There was more color in her cheeks and the exhaustion lining her eyes had lifted.

“If you’re planning on making a move,” she said, a knowing smile on her lips, “you should know, I’m a good girl. Very good.”

His throat went dry. Her voice had gone husky. If he didn’t do this soon, he’d forget all about why he brought her here. There were things that needed to be said and it was now or never.

“Happy birthday, Samara.” He pushed a card at her. He’d chosen a pretty card with flowers on the outside and blank inside, so he could write his own message.

She sat upright, the teasing expression gone. “Oh, Logan!”

“It’s September 19, isn’t it?” he said. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

She nodded, taking the card as if in a daze.

“I never forgot, Sam. That day, I was a first-class tool, a selfish, immature kid who let you down.”

She swallowed and he heard her throat click.

“I never meant things to end the way they did, Logan.”

He touched a finger to her chin. Her eyes were shining.

“Open the card.”

She obeyed, her fingers unsteady as she carefully unstuck the seal.

A drop of moisture trickled down his back.

She looked up and turned the card to face him, as if he was unaware of the contents.

Close your eyes,
he’d written.

And with sweet simplicity and trust, she did.

It was as if his entire life leaped into rewind mode, as if the intervening years were gone and it was the two of them, innocent, certain of nothing but their love for each other, aching for a world where they could be together always.

He leaned in, cupped the back of her head gently, and kissed her.

Samara put her hand up, touching his neck, drawing him closer. Suddenly, their bodies were pressed together, his hands on her back, her arms linked behind him, their lips moving feverishly, their tongues tasting, feasting, remembering.

Then he pulled back and pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard.

“There’s something else,” he said hoarsely.

Gently, he peeled her arms away from his neck. He took the box from his pocket and handed it to her, plus a second card that went with it. “Don’t get excited. It’s nothing much.”

He saw the moment she noticed the discolored paper, the careful handwriting on the card, the yellowed tape. She jerked her head up.

“Keep going.” Nerves made his voice crack.

She opened the faded card, warped with time.

True love stories never have endings.

Sam seemed to freeze. Then her hand went to her throat.

“
Jonathan Livingston Seagull,
” she whispered.

“You remember,” he said. They’d been so young. So very young. Drinking in the idealism and romantic fervor as only teenagers could, certain that no one had ever loved as they did, that theirs was the first and last of its kind.

Sam peeled away the yellowed tape and took off the wrapping. Inside was the little cardboard box, exactly as it had been that day, sixteen years ago, when he’d prepared it for her. His heart had been in his throat then, too.

“It’s a little late.” It was a lame joke, but he was desperate to break the silence.

Her hands were shaking so much she nearly dropped the lid. He could hear her breath, coming in quick short gasps.

She lifted the cheap gold-plated chain inside and held it up, so that the tiny faux sapphire pendant lay against her hand. For several endless moments, she just stared at it. Her chest rose and fell jerkily, and that tendon was jumping in her neck.

“I always felt bad I couldn’t give it to you. It’s just a cheap necklace but I thought it was hot stuff at the time. I probably should have thrown it out years ago but-”

Something hot splashed onto his hand.

“Logan,” she said, putting a finger against his lips. “This is, without question, the best birthday present I’ve ever had. In my entire life.”

Everything in him stopped, his heart, his breath, his brain, like a power outage. Then, it surged back, alarms going off, bells rushing, appliances clattering and whirring back to life.

“It is?”

The smile on her face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Pure, sincere, open and aimed one hundred per cent at him. And the tears glistening on her cheeks only made it more beautiful.

“It is. And I’m going to keep it forever. On one condition.”

“Anything,” he said. If, somehow, a miracle had occurred, helping her find her way back to him, he was never, ever going to let her go again.

“I’ll keep this necklace forever,” said Samara, “as long as Jade and I can keep you forever too.”

His whoop of joy echoed across the empty field and the stars reflected their joy back down, multiplying it until it was infinite as space.

Then Logan grabbed her around the waist, dragged her onto his lap and kissed her senseless.

The End

If you enjoyed
Finding Home,
you’ll love the other Homecoming series novellas!