The Soldier's Sweetheart (18 page)

Chapter Fifteen

I
t was so quiet in the Grange hall that
Samantha could have heard a pin drop. It wasn’t because the hall was empty. On
the contrary, it was full-to-brimming-over with town folks, once again out to
support the Howells and Sam’s Grocery.

Samantha had taken her place at the front right table, where
she’d sat just a week before, facing off against Cal Turner and the Stay-n-Shop
legal team. Will sat beside her, his fingers laced with hers. She took a deep,
calming breath, and Will squeezed her hand, adding his silent encouragement.

There was no more arguing to be done. The town council had
called together this assembly to render their decision. Samantha just hoped she
could hear and accept it with strength and dignity. Whatever the outcome, she
had Will, her family, her friends and the townsfolk whom she held so dear.

Frank banged his gavel, although why he thought he had to do
that was beyond Samantha. No one was speaking. Everyone’s attention was already
trained on the council.

“I’ll come right to the point,” Frank said without preamble.
“No sense dragging this thing out.”

Samantha’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. If Frank
and the council didn’t want to draw out the news, it must be bad.

“After much discussion and a thorough review of the issues,
we’ve come to a resolution.”

Samantha couldn’t help herself. She glanced across the way. Cal
grinned and winked, like he was flirting with her. Or rubbing her nose in her
pain and loss.

“...Sam’s Grocery.”

Samantha had been so caught up in Cal’s unbelievably callous
behavior that she’d missed Frank’s pronouncement, but she didn’t need him to
repeat it.

The crowd cheered. Will stood, pulling her with him as he
whooped and turned her around.

“You did it.” He kissed her cheek and slid his arm around her
shoulders as he turned her to face her exultant family.

“No, Will,” she protested, tightening her grip on his waist and
meeting his adoring gaze. “
We
did it.”

* * *

“Hey, you two,” Samantha called as Will and Genevieve
came in the front door of the store. For some reason she was reminded of the
first day Will had walked into her life, hoping he had a job and a place to
stay. She knew he hadn’t been looking for love—quite the opposite, in fact. But
love had found him.

And she was never going to let him go.

“The week is almost up,” Will reminded her as he sent Genevieve
out back to play with some of the neighborhood children.

His eyes sparkled, and it was then that she realized he was
holding something behind his back. His expression didn’t reflect his usual
serious demeanor. It was light, merry—almost boyish in its enthusiasm.

She smiled. She could get used to this side of Will.

“All right, there, mister. Give it up. What do you have behind
your back?”

Why
did
he look that way? What
was
behind his back?

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

She waited for him to reveal his prize, trying very hard not to
imagine the diamond solitaire that Alexis and Mary would have wished for her
ring finger. There was time enough for that later. She and Will hadn’t even
talked through many of the serious issues couples discussed—they were too busy
enjoying each other’s company for that.

She darted around the counter and made a play for his hand, but
he danced back out of her reach.

“Uh-uh. You’ve got to give me something first.”

She reached for the lollipop tub on the counter. “Sucker? I
believe I offered you one the first day we met.”

He chuckled. “You know that’s not what I want. Plant one, right
here.” He pointed to his cheek. Samantha stood on tiptoe to oblige, but at the
last moment turned so her lips landed squarely on his.

“Now then,” he continued cheerfully, “I’ve got something
special for you. Something I think you’re really going to like.”

“Are you going to keep tormenting me, or are you going to show
me?”

“I’ll show you,” he said, bringing his hand out from behind his
back.

It wasn’t a ring box.

Of course it wasn’t a ring box.
She
was being silly. But she was surprised by the small moment of disappointment
that flashed through her. Hopefully it didn’t show on her face. The last thing
she wanted to do was make Will feel like he’d somehow disappointed her when in
fact he just kept exceeding her expectations at every turn. She loved him so
much she sometimes thought her heart might burst from it.

She looked closely at what he was holding. It was a small
scroll of paper, tied with a red ribbon.

“Let me guess. Is it a Dear John rejection letter? Is it from
you?”

“No, it is not,” Will denied. “On both counts. And I even tied
it with red ribbon because I knew that was your favorite color.”

“It was last week,” she said with a grin.

“Oh, you ladies. So unpredictable.”

“I’ll show you unpredictable if you don’t give me that
paper.”

He slipped it into her hand and then crossed his arms, watching
with glowing eyes as she pulled the ribbon and rolled the page down flat. She
scanned the contents and then squealed in exhilaration and leaped into Will’s
arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his knees.

“It’s official!”

“Yes, ma’am. Stay-n-Shop is pulling out of town, and the
council is saying good riddance.”

Tears pricked at her eyes as joy welled in her heart. Seeing
the decision on paper made it final. Certified.

Over.

“I’m going to have to bring you good news more often if I’m
going to get thanked liked that,” he added, setting her to the floor.

“Just your presence is enough,” she assured him.

“Still,” he said, “there might be one more surprise for
you...”

She narrowed her eyes on him. As far as she could tell, his
hands were empty, but his gaze was not. It was full of all the love in the
world, and she knew it reflected her own. “One more thing what?” she
prompted.

“Well,” Will said, reaching into the front pocket of his jeans,
“if you insist, I might give you this.”

He held up a ring. There was no box, but it was the most
beautiful thing she had ever seen.

Or rather, it was the most beautiful moment in the world when
Will knelt before her and smiled up at her. He took her hand in his, and she
could feel his fingers trembling.

“I want to do this right, Samantha. Starting from this moment.”
He paused and his lips quirked. “Samantha Howell, will you be my wife?”

She stared first at him, and then at the ring. She would have
pinched herself to see if this was real, except the gleam in the depths of
Will’s brown eyes told her it was true. The diamond solitaire, surrounded by
tiny rubies and emeralds, sparkled in the sunshine that poured through the front
window.

“Green and red, just in case you change your mind about the
color,” he teased.

“Oh, you,” she exclaimed, holding out her left hand. “Now put
that on me.”

He stood and wrapped his arms around her waist, then kissed her
thoroughly. “I want you to know I love you,” he said, his voice deepening with
emotion. “I need you with me always. And I promise I’ll always have your
back.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
Rocky Coast
Romance
by Mia Ross.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for embarking with me on a new series once again set in Serendipity, Texas. I’m excited to introduce the Serendipity Sweethearts, otherwise known as the Little Chicks, for those of you who have been following the stories set in Serendipity. These lovely ladies appeared in all of the Email-Order Bride books and are now anxious to have stories (and heroes!) of their own. The first one follows Samantha Howell as she meets strong and silent ex-soldier Will Davenport. He’s looking for peace and she’s just lost hers, so it’s a wild ride for them both to find what they’re really after—which of course is true love, both in God and with each other.

I hope you’ve enjoyed your time with Samantha and Will, and that you’ll watch for the next book in the series, which will be Mary Travis’s story. You can also find many of my backlist titles available for order from online booksellers in both print and ebook format.

As always, my prayers linger over those who read my books, that they would be a blessing to you in some way. Hearing from you is a great treasure to me. Please email me at [email protected] or leave a comment on my fan page on Facebook. I’m also on Twitter, @debkastner. Hope to see you online soon!

Keep the Faith,

Questions for Discussion

1. Most of us at one time or another feel like David
   up against Goliath. Relate an experience in which God helped you through
   what seemed like impossible circumstances.
   

2. Though he was not related by blood, Will was
   welcomed into the Howell household as one of their own. What defines a
   family?
   

3. Music plays an important part of Samantha’s life
   and worship. How does music touch your life?
   

4. God often takes what we consider bad situations
   and turns them to His good purpose. Relate an incident where God took
   the bad and used it for good.
   

5. Grandpa Sampson reminded Samantha that there is
   safety with a multitude of counselors. What does that mean?
   

6. Will thought he had too dark of a soul to be
   redeemed. Why is this not true?
   

7. Why do you think Samantha kept her fight with
   Stay-n-Shop to herself, choosing not to involve her family?
   

8. Do you think building a big-box store in
   Serendipity would change the town?
   

9. Who is your favorite character in
   The Soldier’s Sweetheart
   ? Why?
   

10. Samantha prefers to be self-sufficient. She’s a
    giver and not a taker. Is this pride? How do you know the
    difference?
    

11. By the end of the novel, Will has accepted the
    forgiveness of Christ. Was this a sudden conversion, or was it a
    process?
    

12. What does Samantha need to learn about herself?
    What spiritual growth do you see in her throughout the novel?
    

13. What is the takeaway value of
    The Soldier’s Sweetheart
    ? What will you
    remember the most?
    

We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Love Inspired story.

You believe hearts can heal.
Love Inspired
stories show that faith, forgiveness and hope have the power to lift spirits and change lives—always.

Enjoy six new stories from Love Inspired every month!

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Chapter One

“C
omin’ in to Hahliday Hahbah!”

The driver’s announcement cut through her sound-canceling headphones, and Bree Farrell glanced up from the movie playing on her tablet computer. Outside the grimy window she saw a whole lot of nothing. Then the bus lumbered over a hill, and on the other side was a town.

Surrounded by endless miles of ocean, Holiday Harbor looked like it was barely clinging to the rugged Maine coastline. Off in the distance a rotating beacon drew her eye to a lighthouse that looked as if it had sprouted from the rocky cliff it was perched on.

All very nice poetic descriptions, she thought, opening her notes file to capture her observations before they vanished. A born and bred city girl, she wasn’t crazy about this edge-of-the-world assignment her prospective editor had given her. But a long string of missteps and bad choices had drained her savings account and left her with a less than stellar reputation.

And no options. If she couldn’t wrangle a permanent byline at
Kaleidoscope,
she’d have to dust off her waitressing skills and move back in with her mom. Determined to avoid such drastic measures, she knew she had to make this article shine.

When the bus pulled into the center of town, she stayed in her seat, waiting for the other passengers to collect small bags from the overhead bins. While they gathered their things, she took the opportunity to jot down descriptions of them. Since it was just after noon on a Thursday, she assumed they were all here for the Fourth of July weekend. There were three Italian suit types, a few in jeans and sneakers and a dreamy young couple wearing bride and groom T-shirts.

Glancing out the window again, she decided that while it wouldn’t be her first choice for a honeymoon destination, Holiday Harbor did have a certain quiet charm about it. Far from the crowded streets of Richmond, Virginia, she’d probably feel like the clichéd fish out of water. A jolt of nerves shot up her back, and she took a deep breath to regain her composure.

She’d made some careless mistakes in her past, but she was a pro. This was her chance to prove it to everyone who’d written her off as flaky and difficult to work with.

And to herself.

Stepping onto the cracked sidewalk, she caught the unmistakable scent of salt water and fish, laced with the pungent diesel that powered the small fleet of fishing boats chugging to and from a busy set of docks. Another interesting tidbit, and she scribbled it down with her stylus.

“You must be Bree Farrell.”

The mellow voice startled her, and she clutched her tablet close to her chest. Her parents had stopped fighting long enough to buy it for her as a birthday gift, and nobody was taking her prized possession from her without a serious fight. In her next breath she realized how stupid her reaction was. Even in the worst places she’d visited, thieves didn’t stroll over and address you by name.

Looking up, she found herself staring at the collar of a dark blue polo shirt. When her eyes moved up a little farther, she got the surprise of her life.

Someone had planted a movie star in her path. With eyes the color of a clear sky and an easygoing smile, the stranger who’d come to greet her would weaken the knees of any female over ten and still breathing. He had broad shoulders and a lean, athletic physique to die for. Dressed in nicely pressed chinos and deck shoes, he looked like he was headed out for a sail.

When she realized he was waiting for her to respond, she jerked herself back to the moment. “Must I?”

Chuckling, he offered a hand. “Cooper Landry. Welcome to Holiday Harbor.”

“Landry.” They’d never met, she was certain of that. But the name rang a bell, and she asked, “Are you related to Mayor George Landry?”

His eyes darkened, and his welcoming smile faltered before righting itself. “Actually, I’m the mayor now.”

Bree was usually pretty good at gauging someone’s age, but with his windblown good looks, this guy could be anywhere from twenty-five to forty. While she mulled that over, she noted that the logo on his shirt wasn’t a name brand but a sketch of a sailboat, with the words
Holiday Harbor
floating like waves beneath it. Promoting the village on that solid chest of his, she thought with a grin. Nice touch.

“Aren’t you a little young to be a mayor?”

“I’m thirty, but thanks for the compliment.”

Only a couple of years older than her, she thought with a frown. “Isn’t that a lot of responsibility for someone your age?”

“I guess it is.” He shrugged as if it hadn’t occurred to him until she brought it up. “Granddad passed away a few months ago, and the town asked me to complete the rest of his term.”

“I’m so sorry,” she stammered. Again she’d waded into deep water before thinking things through. “My research must be a little out of date.”

“Not your fault, but thanks.”

After a moment he added another, more personal smile. It was the kind of gesture that lit up his eyes and made her feel like he was honestly glad to see her. Lately she hadn’t gotten that kind of reaction from too many people, and it made her feel slightly more at ease.

Trying to make conversation, she said, “I’m not used to being met by the mayor when I’m on assignment somewhere. That was nice of you.”

“It only seemed right. I’m the one who asked
Kaleidoscope
to send someone to do a story here.”

His comment piqued her curiosity. “Really? The magazine is pretty new, and online besides. What made you think of it?”

“Your editor, Nick McHenry, grew up here, and we go way back. He thought we’d make a great addition to the Americana series he’s running this summer.” The driver set Bree’s two bags in front of her, and her host handed him five dollars. “Thanks, Ed. Are you and your wife gonna make it up here for the Fourth?”

The older man’s face broke into a delighted grin. “We wouldn’t miss it. We’ve got the grandkids right now, and they can’t wait.”

“If you’ve got time, stop by my place for some barbecue. After you eat, you can get ringside seats for the fireworks. Red Granger’s in charge of them again, and he promised they’d be even better than last year’s.”

Respect flooded Ed’s expression, and Bree figured he didn’t often get invitations to visit a town leader at his home. “We’ll do that. Thanks.”

“Great! We’ll see you then.”

They shook hands to seal the deal, and Ed closed the cargo doors before climbing aboard.

As the bus chugged away, Cooper eyed Bree’s scant luggage in disbelief. “Is this it?”

“Yeah.” She slung her beat-up messenger bag across her chest. “Reporters travel light.” She didn’t add that the pilot’s case and small duffel held the extent of her wardrobe.

“We keep traffic out of the center of town to leave room to walk for pedestrians, so I had to park down the street.” Without asking, he shouldered her duffel and lifted her suitcase. “I apologize for the hike.”

Bree almost told him she could manage her own bags, but something stopped her. It might come across as rude, and she didn’t want to insult him by refusing his hospitality. Her last termination notice flashed into her mind like a recurring nightmare.

Talented but headstrong. Impossible to work with
.

Not this time, she vowed. This time she’d choke down her instincts and be a team player. Even if it killed her.

“No problem,” she said lightly. “It’ll give me a feel for the town.”

They started walking, and he asked, “Have you eaten, Miss Farrell?”

Knowing this could be her last chance at her dream career, she’d only managed to choke down half a ham and cheese sandwich while waiting for the bus. Unwilling to admit how nervous she was about this assignment, she replied, “I had lunch at the airport in Rockland while I was waiting for the bus, so I’m fine. And it’s Bree.”

“Then I’m Cooper. I’m sort of named after the founder of this place. He was from a long line of barrel makers.”

“Interesting.” That sounded lame, so she added what she hoped was a pleasant smile and started checking out her surroundings.

Main Street was lined with old buildings, some made of brick, others of the weathered clapboards Maine was famous for. The shops’ front doors and display windows were shaded by identical light blue awnings, and flowers of every color overflowed from window boxes and hanging pots. In the center of town was a gazebo surrounded by a small park where several kids were kicking a soccer ball around.

Everywhere she looked she saw American flags and bunting, obviously set out for Monday’s Fourth of July festivities. She could have thrown a rock the length of the business district, but it did occupy both sides of the street. It included a diner, a small café and something she’d assumed had all but gone extinct.

“A real bookstore,” she commented. “I can’t remember the last time I saw one of those.”

“They carry lots of things, even some antique books. My mother owns it, and she has a huge collection. If you want, I can set up a tour for you.”

“That would be awesome,” she blurted, then realized she sounded like a teenager with a crush. Acting unprofessionally had caused her more trouble than even her vivid imagination could have invented. Getting a firmer grip on her dignity, she amended, “If I have time.”

Across the street was a store called There’s No Place Like Gnome, which apparently sold nothing but garden statues so ugly they were cute. It was totally unexpected, and Bree made a quick note of it. Unique features like that would be great for her story. An award-winning reporter himself, Nick McHenry was notoriously tough to impress, and she was desperate to earn his confidence. To do that, she’d have to knock this article out of the park.

“I see six vacant storefronts.” She paused in the middle of the sidewalk for a better look. Their display windows were clean but dark, and while the For Rent signs were subtly posted in lower corners, you couldn’t miss them. “Is the economy especially bad here?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Fish and seafood stocks are declining, taking the towns that rely on that industry right along with them. That’s why you’re here. We need to bring in more tourists, to help fill the gap.”

It sounded like a solid plan, but she knew better than anyone that things didn’t always work out the way you wanted them to. “And if they don’t come?”

Worry clouded his expression, and he grimaced. “There’s another option, but I don’t like to think about it.”

“But you have,” she pressed. “I can tell.”

“We all have,” he admitted with a sigh. “There’s a developer who wants to come in and build a golf community outside of town. We just can’t agree whether to say yes or no.”

This would be news to Nick, she was certain of it. If she did some digging and asked the right questions around town, maybe she could parlay the development issue into another article. Or even a series of them. Having scraped her savings account down to the bone, the influx of cash would be a refreshing change.

For now she put aside her own interests and went the sympathetic route. It wasn’t hard, since to even mention it to a stranger, the potential construction project must be weighing heavily on his mind. “That must make mayoring kind of hard, especially since you didn’t run for the office.”

Cooper eyed her with something she hadn’t seen much of the past year: respect. “Off the record?”

Bree held up her hands to show him she wasn’t recording or taking notes of any kind. “Of course.”

“You’re very perceptive, and you’re right. I didn’t want the job, and it’s turning out to be a lot tougher than I thought it’d be. But I love this place, and I’m doing my best to keep things on track until we elect someone else in the fall. My personal situation has nothing to do with why you’re here, so let’s just focus on the town. Okay?”

He was so upbeat, even in the face of what must be a huge problem, she couldn’t help smiling. Some people honestly believed that positive thinking led to positive outcomes, and she wasn’t going to be the one to burst this handsome optimist’s bubble. “Okay.”

His assessment couldn’t have been more wrong, but she opted to keep that opinion to herself. The state of Holiday Harbor’s town government had everything to do with its problems—and the potential solutions to them. If she’d learned anything during her varied assignments, it was that there were several facets to every story. Her job was to uncover as many of them as possible and give her readers all the angles.

They continued walking, and beyond the modest business district, Victorian-style homes rose up behind white picket fences. Their porch roofs were accented in crisp white gingerbread, their yards filled with neatly trimmed hedges and flower gardens. It was like stepping into a living, breathing Norman Rockwell painting. Even though she was seeing it for herself, Bree couldn’t quite believe a place like this still existed.

In front of one hung a brass sign that read Landry House—1820. During her research, she’d learned that was the year Maine had attained statehood, which meant the Landrys had been here a very long time. The yellow house had a cheerful presence, with tall windows and a wing on either side to balance out the porch running along the front. Well-tended flower beds led to two rows of petunias that bordered the wide walkway leading to the porch.

Large and inviting, it was nothing like the apartments Bree had grown up in. Always seeking new experiences, her restless parents had moved from one city to the next, so she’d never been in one place more than a year. Being so deeply rooted didn’t appeal to her, but obviously it worked for Cooper’s family.

“On the record now?” she asked.

There was that grin again. This time she caught a faint dimple in one cheek that gave him a little boy look she hadn’t noticed before. “Sure.”

“Tell me about Holiday Harbor.” She discreetly hit the record button on her phone. The video would be of the inside of her pocket, but the sound should be good enough for her to take notes from later.

“Back in 1816, my ancestor William Landry—”

He paused for a proud grin, and she smiled. “The cooper.”

“That’s the one. Anyway, he started up the coast with four wagons and a hand-drawn map from a blacksmith in Concord, Massachusetts. He claimed there was untouched land up here, sitting right on the ocean, where a man could farm or fish, or both. His brother and new wife joined them, along with a few other families. On Christmas Day, they ended up here.”