Samantha threw her hands up in surrender. How was she supposed to argue with the Bible?
“I’ll admit I may have made a tactical error in not bringing this to you sooner. Maybe I do need help. I’m not having any issues keeping Sam’s in the black, but we don’t have enough savings to hire a lawyer—definitely not the kind of lawyer we’d need to fight an enormous corporation like Stay-n-Shop.”
“Then we’ll have to find another way to win this battle—without a lawyer,” her father stated grimly, and Will nodded in agreement. “It’s up to us to find a way to fight back on our own.”
Samantha felt oddly comforted now that she had other people by her side to support her. Maybe Will had been right. At the very least, she felt a little less defeated now that her family was with her. Even in their anger, she felt their love.
“I’m beginning to think I know what David must have felt like facing off against big old Goliath with nothing more than a sling and a few stones,” Samantha admitted.
Will chuckled.
Chuckled
.
She wanted to hurl something at him. Like her napkin. Or a brick. He just
had
to rub it in.
“Now you all are aware that I’ve never been to Sunday school,” he said wryly. “But if I’m not mistaken, didn’t David win that battle? Seems to me it all worked out well for him in the end, having God on his side and all that.”
“You’re exactly right, young man,” Grandpa Sampson agreed with a satisfied grunt, as if he’d thought of it himself. “The Good Book says that the Lord our God is with us, the Mighty Warrior who saves. We can rest on that promise.”
“I just hope we can locate vulnerability in our giant,” Samantha said. “We need to find a chink in Stay-n-Shop’s armor. Otherwise, we won’t be slaying it with a dozen stones.”
Before she realized what he intended to do, Will reached across the table and grasped her hand. Samantha was cognizant of the way the various members of her family were now staring at her with open curiosity and some amusement. But even more than that, she was ultra-aware of the gentle graze of Will’s hand on hers. It was electric.
Her mother grinned like the proverbial cat who’d eaten the canary.
“It’ll happen,” Will assured her in his rich, firm tone. “We’re going to beat these guys. You’ll see.”
Samantha scoffed. “And how would you know that?”
“Easy. Because I’ve seen your faith. And the faith of your family,” he added. “If God is going to help anybody here, it’s not going to be some huge, impersonal entity. It’s going to be you.”
“But you don’t believe in Christ, do you?” she felt obligated to point out.
“I honestly don’t know what I believe,” Will admitted, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Being around you folks has challenged me to reevaluate. I’m still asking questions. I’m not sure. Not yet. But you are, and as far as I’m concerned, that’s all I need to know.”
Samantha was astounded, not only by Will’s support, but by his revelation that the Lord was working on his heart. It suddenly occurred to her that maybe there was a higher purpose at work, something larger than just the fight between an enormous bear of a corporation and a tiny ant of a country store.
That
maybe
filled her heart with new hope.
“Sounds to me like this would be a good time to bow our heads in prayer,” her father stated, breaking into her thoughts. The family murmured in agreement.
Will hadn’t yet withdrawn his hand from hers. Their gazes met and he squeezed her fingers, one side of his mouth creeping upward.
It had taken a man of no faith to remind her of her own.
She was not alone in this fight.
She never had been.
Chapter Six
S
amantha excused herself from the table just after Will. She wanted to make sure she caught him before he left for the store to retrieve the letters. She had a few things to say to him and wanted to speak to him before she lost all the steam she’d built up.
Should she be angry or relieved? She didn’t know, but she was certainly eager to find out.
“Hey, Will.” She caught up with him just after he’d exited the front door. “Wait up a moment. I have a question for you.”
He turned to her with a frown. Nothing new there. Anyway, she was the one who had something to frown about.
But now that she was in front of him, she wasn’t sure where to start.
He arched a brow. “I was under the distinct impression you never wanted to speak to me again. You wanted something?”
Yeah. An apology.
“An explanation would do, for starters.”
Will dropped his gaze and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I guess I owe you that.”
“You think?” She blurted the words out before she stopped to consider that they were a little harsh. “Sorry. I spoke in haste.”
“You’re not the one who should be apologizing here. I’m the one who spoke out of turn today.”
“Perhaps. Why
did
you tell my family about Stay-n-Shop?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” He looked up, his gaze challenging.
“Fair enough.”
“I had no way of guessing you hadn’t shared the information with your parents. I know now that it wasn’t my story to tell.”
“No,” she said, her chest weighted. “It wasn’t.”
“I still think they have a right to know.”
She swallowed her first defense. He was right, of course, which was probably what galled her most. “Be that as it may, I should have been the one to tell them.”
“Yes, you should have.” His gaze was compassionate rather than accusatory, which only made her feel worse.
“I’m worried about you, you know.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Don’t be. I can take care of myself.”
“Why did I know that was what you were going to say?” He chuckled. “You’re the most self-sufficient woman I’ve ever met. All I’m saying is, you don’t always have to be. Your family loves you, and they want to be there for you. I want to support you, as well.”
She could no longer hold his gaze. “Yes. Well, thank you for that.”
He cleared his throat. “I guess I ought to get over to the store and get those papers. Your folks and your grandpa are waiting.”
“Sure. Okay.”
He nodded and walked away.
“Oh, Will,” she called. “One more thing.”
He turned back.
“I’m going over to the church to practice the organ for next week’s services, and I was wondering if Genevieve could tag along. I thought she might enjoy playing around with the keys and hearing how a pipe organ sounded.”
As the church organist, Samantha tried to spend at least a couple of hours practicing on the actual instrument—plus, there was something exciting about playing an instrument with that much power. She had an electric keyboard at home, and her parents owned a piano, but it wasn’t the same as being surrounded by the glorious, melodic tones of the pipes.
Will hesitated for a moment. His lips twitched as if he were about to say no, but then he nodded. “I’m sure she would. How does a pipe organ sound, anyway?”
“Loud,” she teased.
He was hovering, waiting for something. Samantha guessed he wanted an invitation to come along.
She hesitated. Perhaps she should invite him. It might be the right thing to do. But right or wrong, she needed space, time to process her thoughts and emotions.
“I’ll have her back by five.”
“All right, then.” Once again he headed off toward the store. She watched until he turned the corner at the street’s edge and she could see him no longer. Only then did she let out a long sigh.
She considered going back inside to spend a little time with her family before heading to the church, but she was still a little shaken up by the day’s events, and she doubted anyone was going to let the Stay-n-Shop issue drop, which was all the more reason for her to make herself scarce. At least until Will came back with the letters and her parents and grandfather had time to read the corporate missives for themselves, pray over the situation, and allow their emotions to cool off a bit.
They might be angry now, but she knew that their prayers would allow them to come back to the figurative table with level heads. She didn’t blame them for being incensed. Yes, they were Christians, but they were still human, and she knew she’d just disappointed them fiercely.
She made her way to the living room where she knew she’d find Genevieve, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a video-game controller on her lap. The television was playing and replaying a loop of music on the introductory screen of a preschool learning game. The TV was blaring a bit too loud for a song that was, in Samantha’s opinion, obnoxious to begin with. Genevieve sat rocking herself in a soothing motion, staring blankly at the screen.
“Genevieve, honey, do you need help playing this game?” Samantha asked gently, sliding down on the floor next to the little girl and folding her legs in front of her.
Genevieve shook her head and continued to stare at the screen, her pink lips curling down at the corners.
“Do you want me to find a different game for you? I’m sure we have more choices around here somewhere.”
Again, the little girl shook her head.
Samantha’s heart sank as a realization hit her like a bullet to her chest, and made her stomach turn over in nauseating waves.
Genevieve had heard the grown-ups arguing in the other room.
The sweet girl was extra sensitive. Even if she hadn’t understood the content, it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to pick up on the tone.
Poor little thing. She’d been sitting here listening to the adults raising their voices at each other when they’d all assumed she was thoroughly engrossed in the playroom.
“Shall we turn off the TV and do something else?” Samantha suggested.
Genevieve nodded and turned her expressive brown eyes to Samantha. Samantha’s breath caught. The little girl looked so very much like her father.
“Have you ever played a piano?”
Genevieve’s gaze brightened but she shook her head. Sensing interest, Samantha had a gut feeling she was onto something. She’d noticed how intrinsically rhythmic the child was when playing with pans and spoons in the kitchen. And Genevieve often sang to herself when she thought no one was watching. Samantha suspected the little girl had a creative and artistic temperament—something with which Samantha was intimately familiar.
Music always brought Samantha peace. Maybe it would likewise benefit Genevieve.
“Well, we have a nice piano here at this house that you can play any time you want to, but at the church I’ve got an even better one. It’s called an organ, and it makes all kinds of cool sounds. You can try it if you want.”
“Yes, please.” Genevieve’s polite words were laced with excitement. It was touching how Will was teaching her manners.
Just one more way Will Davenport had reached Samantha’s heart. How could she stay angry at a man who cared so much?
* * *
Will took a deep breath of country air. It was nice to be able to walk from the Howell’s back to the cabin where he was staying, rather than having to drive everywhere as he’d had to do in Amarillo. Walking gave him time to consider all that had happened.
It was hard for Will to consider Samantha taking Genevieve somewhere without him, but he no longer felt the panic he’d experienced every time his little girl left his sight, as he had when he’d first come to Serendipity. Each day he found himself able to release her more, bit by bit, giving her the room she needed to grow into a healthy, confident child. He would have been apt to smother her to death had he not had Samantha there to temper his efforts. With her assistance, he was finding it easier to let his daughter go.
Samantha, on the other hand, was a different story. With every day that passed, he found his thoughts lingering on her more and more—and he wasn’t just trying to find a solution to her problems with Stay-n-Shop.
It was Samantha herself who had his head and his heart in a regular muddle—all beautiful, generous, five feet four inches of her. He admired how, for the legacy of Sam’s Grocery, she bravely stood as a buffer between her family and the big-box store, and how she’d wanted to protect everyone from pain and heartache.
He’d put her into a tight spot when he’d accidentally blurted out information he’d mistakenly believed the Howells had already known, and yet he had no doubt that the family would quickly mend their differences and pull together as a team. Samantha might have gone about it in the wrong way, but her heart had definitely been in the right place, and her family knew it.
Even with all the drama and tension, the Howells supported each other. As far as Will was concerned, this would be the day that he remembered as the first time he’d ever really understood what family was all about.
The only time Will had ever experienced anything close to that kind of solidarity had been in the military, on the ground in Afghanistan. Out there, soldiers had to have each other’s backs.
What was it like to experience that kind of love and unity in a family? He was hoping to create that for his daughter. Would that he could give Genevieve the kind of strength and reassurance the Howells shared, so that she never had to fear she was alone.
Samantha was a great help in that area, offering Genevieve a good deal of stability and a friendly hand to hold. She had quickly stepped up for the girl as someone Genevieve could admire and emulate. Will found he didn’t mind if Samantha wanted to add the faith element to her time with Genevieve. He knew that Samantha’s relationship with God was a vital part of what made her the strong, compassionate woman she was. How could he possibly want any less for Genevieve?
Churches weren’t his thing, and playing an organ didn’t sound all that great to him, but he suspected Genevieve was going to love it—and Samantha had somehow instinctively known that.
As he neared his cabin located on the river’s edge, he realized that being alone didn’t sound all that appealing to him. The cabin would seem awfully empty without Genevieve. She filled up the room with—
Life
.
Love.
He’d seen a lot of sadness and death—more than he cared to remember. Genevieve put him in a better place. She belonged with him now, by his side, with her little hand in his large one. He wondered how he’d possibly gone four years without really knowing her and being the father she deserved.
First tooth. First word. First step.
He’d missed all of that. One more regret that he would have to live with for the rest of his life.
He paused and swallowed the emotion burning in his throat. He silently vowed not to miss any more of those moments. Maybe he would take a peek in at the church and see how Genevieve was doing.
He adjusted his stride and turned left on Main Street, heading toward the steepled white chapel near the edge of town. As he approached, he noticed a sign staked to the undeveloped property across the street, and realized with a start that
that
was where Stay-n-Shop was threatening to construct their store. How ironic that the giant corporation wanted to build on that particular piece of property.
Selflessness versus greed in two blinks of an eye.
Except Will wasn’t going to let that happen. He would do whatever he had to do, but he wouldn’t stand there and watch the Howells’ legacy go down like a sinking ship.
As he turned his attention to the church, he noticed one of the welcoming red doors of the chapel was propped open, and even at a distance he could hear deep, soulful music that threaded its way inside him, drawing him nearer.
Will had never in his whole life had an emotional reaction to music. No matter what kind of tunes were playing, they had never touched him or moved him. For him, music had been nothing more than white noise in the background.
But now it was as if the music wound around and through him, increasing in strength with every step he took, tugging him nearer.
Samantha was at the keyboard. It was fairly obvious that his daughter was there, as well, if the occasional discordant notes were any indication. He was impressed by the way Samantha played on regardless of Genevieve’s help, maybe even encouraging the little girl to continue. He listened as notes poured from the instrument, seamless and beautiful as she allowed his daughter to join in the experience.
Will stopped just short of the door, feeling more awkward and reticent than ever before in his life. Marching into battle wasn’t as challenging for him as walking into this church right now. Why was this so difficult for him? What was he afraid of?
Was he afraid he might discover he was wrong about God?
Church is for good people.
The distant echo of his father’s voice filled his mind as if he’d heard it yesterday. Will, as a youngster, watching his friends with their Bibles tucked under their arms as they made their way to Sunday school at the local chapel.
You can’t go to church. You’re not a good person.
This was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if Jesus was going to walk up to him and charge him with all of his many failings. God’s censure wouldn’t be found within these four walls. God’s sanctuary was far more than plaster and plywood. If Will had learned anything from his time with the Howells, it was that God was found within his people. That’s who made the true difference. In his life. And in Genevieve’s.
He stepped through the door and followed the sound of the organ to the sanctuary where the people of Serendipity worshipped. Deep oak-colored pews lined both sides of the room, with a wide, red-carpeted runner down the center. A large cross hung quite visibly up in the front, but his eye caught instead on a multicolored stained-glass window. The sun’s bright rays were pouring through it, giving the picture of Jesus with his arms opened wide in welcome an ethereal quality that sent a frisson of awareness up Will’s spine.