Resisting Samantha (Hope Parish Novels Book 10) (17 page)

“Okay, slow it
down to about ten knots. I like to troll at higher speeds, 8-12
knots, depending on baits and conditions. Dolphin are voracious
eaters, and when hungry, will bite anything resembling food that is
swimming or floating nearby. Higher speed trolling allowd me to cover
more area, create a more exciting trolling presentation, plus, and
this is the best bit, it elicits a more aggressive strike from the
fish. The higher speed will also set your hook for you in the event
of a strike. Do you want me to drive or help your friends?”

“They’ve
never done this before, so get down there. I’ll drive. I can
fish either later on or tomorrow.”

This was a
beginning, and I was optimistic. Didn’t mean everything would
be resolved overnight. There was still my brother to contend with,
and I had a feeling Jake wasn’t going to be as open-minded
about me coming back into the family as my parents and River Pearl
were. But I would take it one day at a time, and one relationship at
a time.

It wasn’t long
before I was preoccupied with hooked fish, and Matt whooped loudly
when he hooked a fighter, his pole bending like he had a whale
attached. When he landed that beauty, it turned out to be a
forty-pounder.

When I got home and
said goodbye to my daddy and his friends, I stored my dolphin fish
for cooking later, then went into the kitchen and washed up. It was
much too late to see Sam. Maybe. She might be sleeping. Should I wake
her?

As I passed the
trash, the invitation caught my attention. I reached down and picked
it up. For a moment I stood there. Making a difference started with
that first step.

I pivoted and
reached for a pen writing the number two in the space for number of
guests. Then filled in my name and Samantha’s. I put the
response card in the small envelope and put a stamp on it. The
invitation I tacked up with a fish magnet.

SAMANTHA

I had gone two whole
years, content to see Chase once a week, when he made his deliveries,
and occasionally more often if I had special orders for him to fill.
But damn if I didn’t miss him immensely by the second day he
was gone. And I wondered what this short-notice charter was about.

I had baked like a
crazy woman, so it was a good thing Chase had been absent. He would
have been a very big distraction.

Through the kitchen
door, I heard raised voices. It was just after the lunch hour, and
should be settling down, so I went out to see what the fuss was
about.

Anna Kate was going
toe-to-toe with the Blue Coyote Spa’s owner, Skylar Bransom.
The willowy blond towered over the more petite, transplanted brunette
cowgirl. Skylar was down to earth and outspoken, and she never backed
down, even when she was wrong, and she was the best hairdresser I’ve
ever had, and I come from New York City.

“I said it was
an inferior cut, and it was. You should think about going back to
Texas and moving cows with your heavy-handed touch. I think I will go
to Lafayette from now on.”

“Cutting your
hair is like trying to groom a poodle who’s swallowed a jumping
bean. You’re downright fidgety, missy, make no mistake about
that. And, as I have said many times before, I’m not from
Texas.”

“Whatever. I
just think I will keep you away from my hair.”

“Suit
yourself.”

“Is there a
problem, ladies?”

Anna Kate gave me a
mind-your-own-business look. “I think we’re finished
here. Jake?”

He offered her his
arm and they strolled out of Imogene’s.

I caught Skylar
watching Jake intently, then pull her eyes away, rolling them.
“Whatever does he see in her? I will never understand. She puts
on airs so high, it’s no wonder her head doesn’t just
plumb pop off and float up into the atmosphere, like a big, blond
balloon.”

I worked at not
smiling, but Skylar saw my attempt and nudged me. “I know you
have to be neutral, and all. But, by golly, she’s a thorn in my
side.”

There was something
off about Skylar today, and while I listened to her talk I heard an
inflection, and I knew. She was dealing with grief. Deep grief.

It took mere
seconds–a look, a glance, a knowing of the heart connects us,
even if we’ve never met before. No matter our circumstances,
who we are, or how different we are, there is no more intense bond
than the connection between people who understand the agony of
enduring the death of loved ones. It’s a pain we suffer for a
lifetime, and unfortunately only those who have walked the path of
loss understand the depth and breadth of both the pain and the love
we carry.

“Would you
like a piece of pie? On the house,” I said, softly. The way
Anna Kate had treated me and Chase during the brunch only made me
like Skylar more.

“I don’t
look a gift horse in the mouth. You have any apple left?”

“With ice
cream?”

“Hell, yeah.”

I smiled. “Coming
right up. Go ahead and take the corner table. It’s private, and
has a beautiful view of the bayou.” I headed back to the
kitchen and cut a couple of pieces, heated them and scooped out the
ice cream. Then I poured two glasses of milk.

I made my way to the
table with the tray and set the two pieces down, along with the milk.
Then I set the tray aside and sat down. Skylar eyed me and said,
blinking rapidly. “You have the same look. You sharing pie with
me tells me that we have grief in common.”

I took a breath. “I
lost my husband and son. It was devastating, and I’ll never be
the same.”

Skylar’s mouth
trembled and she reached out to squeeze my hand, her eye contact
direct and filled with the kind of knowledge that was now ingrained
in me as well. “I’m so damn sorry. That must have been
awful and crushing.” She looked down and shaved off a spoonful
of ice cream. “I lost my parents in a fire, then I lost their
legacy. The ranch that was in our family for generations. My
ancestors pioneered and fought for that land. I feel guilty about it,
then I feel guilty because I’m guilty about the land instead of
thinking about my parents. It’s a mixed bag.”

“Is the
anniversary of their deaths today? I bet your mom made apple pie and
your dad loved it.”

She nodded. “No.”
Tears welled. “But it’s looming, and I just needed to get
out, and I couldn’t think of anyplace I love more…well
except the Blue Coyote…than Imogene’s.

I squeezed her hand
back. “I think you’re the best hairdresser I’ve
ever had. I totally understand if you’d rather not talk, but
you can sit here and look at the bayou and remember them. Eat your
pie in silence. Or if you’d like to talk about them, I’m
all ears.”

“You are just
the sweetest thing. I would love to tell you about them.” She
talked about her mother, and how she liked to collect salt and pepper
shakers, and how they had them all over the house. How her father
would take this one coyote pepper shaker and hide it so her mom would
bluster and fuss, until he gave her a hint. All in good fun. Her dad
had an exceptional sense of humor, and was as funny as all get-out.
She cried when she talked about the Christmas she gave her mom coyote
slippers.

I said, “Don’t
tell me. The shaker was blue.”

She sighed. “It
was. Guess that was a no-brainer. I wish I could find the same set of
shakers, but I’ve never been able to. I have pictures, though,
and I’ll keep looking.”

After we’d
finished our pie, she said, “Do you want to talk about your
family? This time, I’m all ears.”

I shook my head.
“No, today was about your parents.” I buried those
emotions, my usual habit.

“All right,
but if you ever need to talk, you let me know.”

I gave her a knowing
look. “So, how long have you had a thing for Jake Sutton?”

“I don’t
have—”

I raised my brow.

“Ever since I
laid my eyes on him,” she said, and I liked that she didn’t
blush a bit. “He’s right fine. But he has as many airs as
that Anna Kate. And he needs to be taken down a peg or two, just like
her. And I’m more than woman enough to wrangle that boy.”

“I have no
doubt. If you ask me, Skylar, I think he’d be worth the
wrangle. I think he might be a little lost.”

“I could show
him the way home. Oh, yes, I could.” She got up from the table
and leaned down. “Thank you kindly for the pie, and looks like
you’re doing a little bit of navigating of your own in the same
gene pool. How’s that going?”

“I simply
don’t know what you mean.” I said with a lovely drawl in
my voice as I uttered this totally Southern ladylike denial.

She laughed and
winked at me. “I’m sure you don’t. Carry on, and
thank you again.” She tilted her head, and I was sure she would
give Anna Kate a run for her money.

Feeling a little raw
after she left, I again wished Chase was here. That thought stopped
me in my tracks and, after an odd look from Beth, I got moving again.
He’d been so open, so kind the other night, I got all emotional
just thinking about how he’d comforted me. Then got all
bothered when I remembered how he’d loved me.

And that is what he
had done. Oh man, oh man, I was getting in deep with him, but I still
wanted him home, now.

Later, on my walk
home, I was glad the weather had cleared up. I’d missed this
time of day, working the kinks out of my legs and shoulders. As I
came up to the Gainey house, Jessica came running up to me.
“Samantha, could you please watch Sage? My daddy was just
admitted to the hospital, and Prejean is out of town.”

I froze inside, and
wanted to tell her no and go home, but she was frantic over her
father. I couldn’t refuse. “Of course, you go.”

“Oh, thank
you. He’s asleep, so he shouldn’t be a bother.”

“No worries.
You go.”

My stomach was in
knots when I went up the porch steps and into their pretty house.
Pictures of Prejean and Sage were all over the walls. The smells of a
chicken dinner lingered in the air, little boy toys were all over the
family room, and a tiny little shirt draped over the couch. The knots
intensified, and I clutched at my middle for a moment, the memory of
my little boy rocking me hard. I checked her cupboard for something
hot to drink and found a box of cocoa mix with the little
marshmallows. I made a cup, got control of myself, and turned on the
television to distract myself from remembering.

I jumped when a
little voice said, “Mommy?”

I turned to find
Sage standing there in his dinosaur jammies, and was hit with a
ten-ton hammer right in the heart. He was so like Scottie in
coloring, the memory of him tore at me. I pulled myself together,
because it must be jarring for him to wake up and find a virtual
stranger here instead of his mom. “Hi, Sage,” I said,
keeping my voice soft and infused with calm. “Remember me? I’m
Miss Samantha from next door.”

“Where’s
Mommy?”

“She had to go
out for just a bit, but she’s coming back real soon.” I
picked him up, and his baby scent wrenched at my heart. “Did
you have a bad dream?”

He nodded against my
neck.

“I know
exactly how to fix that.”

He raised his head,
his blue eyes curious and so innocent.

“Yes. Hot
cocoa with little marshmallows does the trick. It chases all those
meanie dreams right out of your head and warms your tummy right up.
Do you want some?”

He nodded. I went
into the kitchen and heated the milk and mixed in the packet of
cocoa. Back in the living room, we drank our cocoa while he showed me
all the pictures he’d colored in his coloring book. I oohed and
ahhed, and he beamed at me with the kind of delighted pride that was
reserved only for small children. Afterwards I read him a story and
then tucked him back into bed.

“Good night,
Sage.”

“Night, Miss
Samantha.”

I held it together
because I had to. There was no getting over this kind of pain, and I
hadn’t ever tried. When Jessica came home, I had my face and
voice schooled to the woman I had been before I moved to Suttontowne.
The fake Samantha. The Samantha I’d hidden behind to look
normal when I absolutely was not, in any way.

I calmly started
down the stairs, but then had to lean against the railing as a
freight train of memories hit me with runaway power, the walls of my
caged emotions crumbled, and I was bombarded with two years of
repressing my grief and loss over Scott.

I had always talked
about Jeff because…I caught a soft sob…it had been
easier somehow. But my little boy had been locked up inside me, and
the floodgates were now open.

I ran all the way to
my front door, reaching for an anchor, for something to cushion my
fall, to keep me from shattering into a million, jillion pieces.

“Samantha?”

He was here. When I
needed him. When I was lost and alone.

Chase.

And my throat closed
and my heart stuttered. I was unable to hide it from him. He was that
kind of man. I couldn’t go back and change it. I’d fallen
in love with Suttontowne. It was now my home. Even worse, I was
falling for Chase Sutton. Losing my heart to him was like a slippery
slope, where, no matter how hard I fought not to slide, there was no
way to stop myself.

He was my every
handhold.

I clutched him,
holding on for dear life.

CHASE

Everything about
Samantha was beautiful, even her grief. I knew it sounded strange,
but it was true. She was luminescent and hurting. Without saying a
word, I took her inside. We lay down on her mattress, and she curled
into me.

“I can’t
imagine what you have gone through, Sam. I’m not going to tell
you it’s time to get back to life, or it’s been long
enough, or, the worst one of all, time heals all wounds.”