The Forever Family

“Sam wants someone with lots of receptionist skills. The last gal he hired couldn’t even type. If you want the job, I’d have to get his approval, first.”

“That’d be great.” If only he agreed. A laugh of relief bubbled up in Rachel’s throat. She might have a job. Working in a vet clinic wasn’t what she had in mind, but her options were pretty slim.

Gladys didn’t look at her as she took a bite of syrupy pancake. Rachel got the impression the other woman tried not to smile. “I’ll warn you, it’s a busy office.”

“Sam mentioned you work there, too.”

“Yep.” Gladys nodded. “We were both raised on a ranch. After my husband died, I brought Charlie to Finley and Sam put me back on my feet. He gave me a fresh start.”

“My husband died last year and I miss him terribly.”

“Oh, you’re a widow, too. I’m sorry.” Gladys’s eyes crinkled. “No wonder we’ve become fast friends. We have a lot in common.”

Tears burned Rachel’s eyes and she looked away. Her sudden emotions ambushed her. The pain of losing Alex still felt raw. Yet the kindness and generosity of these strangers gave her hope that she and Danny could make it here on their own.

A thud sounded outside on the back porch. The kitchen door opened and Sam came inside with a burst of chilly air.

The moment he entered the room, Rachel felt his presence like a tangible thing. She couldn’t understand why the doctor would have such an effect on her.

“Brrr! Close that door.” Gladys reached to help him off with his heavy coat.

Sam closed the door before removing the beatup cowboy hat from his head. His short, dark hair curled against the nape of his neck. He set his damp gloves on the washing machine, his cheeks and nose red. He smiled, his gaze sliding over to Rachel. “It sure is pretty outside. You boys want to play in the snow?”

“Yeah!” Danny and Charlie answered in unison.

Sam chuckled. “Then you better get dressed.”

Charlie hopped off his chair and raced toward his bedroom followed by Danny. Rachel heard the slamming of a door. Whoops of glee and copious amounts of laughter filtered down the hall.

“You’d think it was Christmas morning.” Gladys chuckled as she handed Sam a plate of food.

He turned and paused. Rachel felt the weight of his gaze as he stared at her bare toes. Standing, she helped Gladys fill the sink with sudsy water. Sam sat and reached for the butter. “The snow’s deep, but we should be able to get out to your place this morning.”

Rachel paused as she dried a glass with a dish towel. “I’d really appreciate a ride.”

“Sam lives up the road from your place,” Gladys chimed in. “He can make sure your furnace is working.”

“Yeah, I’ll check things out.” Sam’s voice held no enthusiasm.

“You’ll need groceries, too. I packed some canned goods, but you’ll need to stop at Granger’s to pick up some milk and perishables.” Gladys jutted her chin in the direction of a large box sitting by the back door.

“You didn’t need to do that.” Rachel almost breathed an audible sigh of relief. She had a ride out to Grammy’s place.

“It’s no trouble.”

It’d been six weeks since Grammy lived in the house. Any number of things could have gone wrong. The power could have been knocked out or the old furnace might no longer work. Having Sam and Gladys accompany her out to the house brought her a measure of comfort.

When she glanced at Sam, Rachel couldn’t deny the surly set of his shoulders, nor the way he avoided meeting her eyes. Last night, he’d been kind, even gentle with her. Now, he seemed irritated. She couldn’t blame him. He probably had lots to do and resented a woman and kid taking up his valuable time.

“Have you got fuel for the furnace?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know.” Rachel hadn’t thought about that.

“I’ll check your propane tank. If not, I’ll call Shorty Keller and see when he can get his truck out there to fill the tank.”

“I can help you clean the house,” Gladys offered. “Sam’s a whiz with repairs. There’s nothing he can’t do. Isn’t that right, Sam?”

He mumbled an affirmative answer before taking another bite of food. His cheek bulged as he chewed, and Rachel took his silence as a good sign. There was no mistaking Gladys’s confidence in her brother’s abilities, but she felt uncomfortable asking for his help. Alex had difficulty installing child locks on the cupboards. He just hadn’t been good at fix-it jobs. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

Gladys lifted her hand and waved the air. “Many hands make light work. It’ll be our pleasure to help.”

“Um, maybe I should get ready.” Rachel was as ready as she’d ever be, but she needed an excuse to get out of this kitchen before she burst into tears of gratitude. She cut through the living room and hurried into the bathroom, where she sat on the edge of the tub for at least five minutes before finally brushing her teeth.

Outside the window, she heard childish laughter in the front yard. She peeked past the flowered curtains and saw Danny and Charlie, both dressed in winter coats, scarves, hats, gloves and boots as they rolled snowballs to make a snowman. No doubt Danny had borrowed some of the clothing from Charlie. Her son’s smile melted her heart. She hadn’t seen him laugh like this since—

She sighed. They both missed Alex, and she was glad Danny had found a friend like Charlie. Exiting the bathroom, Rachel came up short in the living room when she heard Sam’s deep, disapproving voice. The exasperation in his tone was obvious. After listening for a few moments, Rachel realized she now had a bigger problem on her hands.

“I can’t believe you want to hire her as our receptionist.” Sam shifted his weight on the linoleum floor in the kitchen.

Gladys stood in front of the refrigerator, putting away the milk. Sam waited until she turned and looked at him, but he didn’t like the expression on her face. He knew that look. Her stubborn I’m-your-older-and-wiser-sister look.

“You put me in charge of hiring a new receptionist and I want to hire Rachel,” Gladys insisted. “She doesn’t have much experience, but she’ll do better than Tiffany.”

He almost groaned. Did she have to bring up Tiffany? The girl had been down on her luck, just like Rachel. Two months after he hired her, the girl absconded with all the money in his safe. Now he had a bad feeling about Rachel. Like knowing you were about to get hit in the jaw, but your hands were tied behind your back so you couldn’t protect yourself. “What are Rachel’s skills? Can she even type?”

Tiffany had used the hunt-and-peck method, typing with her two index fingers. Sam’s busy office needed a receptionist who could take charge and help out.

“Of course,” Gladys said. “And she knows word processing and spreadsheet programs. If I can learn, so can she.”

“What are her references?”

“Frank and Myra Duarte, two of the finest people I ever knew,” Gladys insisted. “I’ve always been a good judge of character, and that gal will do just fine for us.”

He took a deep breath, wondering if he’d ever find a way to tell his sister no. The fact was, he loved Gladys very much, but this was pushing him near the edge. Something about Rachel Walker tore at the deepest recesses of his heart. He’d noticed her pink-painted toenails, so feminine and attractive they made him crazy. He couldn’t explain it and didn’t want to try. If she were working in his office every day, always underfoot, always smelling like springtime, he sensed he’d have an internal fight on his hands before long. And he’d promised himself he’d never care for another woman again. His heart couldn’t take it.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the tension there. “I don’t feel good about this, Glad.”

“What have you got against her?” Gladys brushed past him and reached for the laundry basket. He stared after her in a daze, watching dumbly as she folded towels and piled them neatly on the clean kitchen table.

“For one thing, she’s a complete stranger,” he offered lamely.

Gladys spoke without looking up, her fingers working nimbly as she matched pairs of socks. “She comes from good people, Samuel Nathan.”

Samuel Nathan. The name Gladys called him when she disapproved of something he’d said or done.

“But we don’t know anything about her,” he argued. “Her work ethic, her reliability, her integrity.”

“She needs a job. She needs our help. Do you want to just throw her out on the street?”

“Of course not, but I don’t want to take in strays and give her a job just because you feel sorry for her.”

Gladys pursed her lips. “She’s sweet as can be. Don’t you think it’s time you got over Melanie? That was years ago. You need to move on with your life.”

“This has nothing to do with Melanie.” A swell of anger washed over him. Even as he said the words, he knew it was a lie. His voice sounded strained as he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh, doesn’t it? You haven’t looked at another woman since. Not until last night.”

He snorted. “Stop matchmaking. I’m too old for Rachel.”

“Oh, pooh! She’s a widow and six years age difference between you doesn’t matter much.”

“Closer to nine,” he snarled. “Did she tell you she’s a widow?”

“Yep, and from the look in her eyes, she loved the man.”

Well. He felt sorry for her, then. He knew the pain of losing someone he loved and it never left his heart for one single minute. “She’s not working for us. Period.”

“Now, Sam—”

“I said no.” His soft words resonated through the kitchen like a shout. He rarely put his foot down with Gladys, but when he did, he meant it.

Gladys clamped her mouth shut, her lips pursed with disapproval. In her eyes, he saw disappointment and hurt, but he wouldn’t budge on this decision. He couldn’t take the chance.

Brooding silence followed.

The rattling of the bathroom door announced Rachel’s presence before she stepped into the kitchen. Sam stood at the door wearing his coat, hat and gloves. He held the doorknob in a choking grip, desperate to escape. He couldn’t help feeling as though he’d just ruined something beautiful. Like a delicate flower crushed beneath the heels of his work boots.

Rachel met his gaze with a challenging lift of her chin, and he hoped she hadn’t heard his conversation with Gladys. He felt ashamed for his lack of charity toward this woman. No doubt God would be disappointed in him again. But it was just one more notch on his conscience. Surely God couldn’t be any more disappointed in him than He already was. And yet, Sam couldn’t look away from Rachel. Something in her eyes held him captive. A sense of quiet strength he didn’t fully understand. She was vulnerable, he knew that. Even frightened. Yet, he could see in her eyes that she would do what had to be done, no matter what. For that reason alone, his respect for her grew.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

He exchanged a glance with Gladys. “Yeah.”

So much for not getting involved. He turned away, confused to his bones. One minute, he found himself attracted to this woman in ways he couldn’t explain. The next minute, he wanted to strangle her and she hadn’t done a single thing to him…except walk into his life and make him start to feel again. Old emotions he thought he’d suffocated twelve years earlier. He must set some boundaries.

“I’ll be waiting outside.” Sam picked up the box of groceries and juggled it as he pushed the screen door wide with his shoulder. It slapped closed behind him as he stepped out onto the back porch. Gladys closed the kitchen door, shutting out the frigid air.

Shutting out him.

Chapter Four

Rachel took a deep breath as she pulled on her coat and followed Sam outside onto the back porch of Gladys’s house. Strays! She tensed when she thought of the conversation she’d overheard between the doctor and his sister. She was tempted to tell Dr. Thorne what he could do with his precious receptionist job.

Obviously Sam had been dumped by a woman named Melanie and hadn’t gotten over her yet. Now, he seemed to hold a grudge against Rachel.

She wrapped her scarf around her neck and jerked on the thick leather gloves Gladys had loaned her.

She didn’t want anyone’s help. But she would need it if she was going to make it here in Finley. The thought of accepting anything from Sam Thorne almost frosted her garters, as Grammy was fond of saying.

Thinking of her grandmother and the funny adages she used brought a smile to Rachel’s face. And that was when she saw her small travel trailer. Someone had parked it beside the garage. Probably Sam, who currently stood over the front hitch, hooking it to his truck.

She gravitated toward the back, her gaze searching for damage. As she rounded the corner, she gave a sharp exhale. One side of the trailer had been bashed in, no doubt struck by the oncoming truck she had hit last night. She groaned, wondering how severe the damage might be inside. Every possession she owned was inside this trailer.

She joined Sam, wishing she didn’t need to speak to him. Her pride still stung from being called a stray. As she drew deep drafts of cold air into her lungs, her nerves settled. “Will it make it out to Grammy’s place okay?”

“Sure, the tires are sound,” he said without looking up.

She lifted the latch and opened the double doors, peering through the shadowed interior. Tears filled her eyes. Clothing, towels and bedding lay folded in haphazard fashion. The books she’d packed so carefully were now bundled in disorderly piles, their ruined boxes tossed to one side. Her precious photo albums lay heaped together, their torn pages and pictures sitting on top. The rocking chair Alex had given her the day she came home from the hospital with Danny had been moved to one side. The spokes and one bottom rocker lay broken on the blue padded seat. Someone had leaned the chair against the far wall of the trailer so it wouldn’t fall over.

Rachel’s heart wrenched. She couldn’t contain a small moan as she picked up the splintered pieces of wood. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as she caressed the shining oak with her gloved hands. It was just a chair, and yet it meant so much more. Seeing it ruined like this reminded her of Alex’s death and her shattered life. How could she ever repair the damage? When would her heart stop aching for her loss? She was too young to be a widow, and Danny was too young to be without his father. Alex should be here, protecting them, loving them—

The crunch of footsteps warned her of someone’s presence. She set the broken rocker pieces aside.

“Everything okay?”

Sam! Why did it have to be him witnessing her moment of weakness? Of all the emotions she felt right now, why did he have to see her cry?

Her knees wobbled so hard she feared they might buckle. She took a shuddering breath and turned away. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

A handkerchief appeared in front of her nose. Not a tissue, but a genuine, crisply starched, white linen handkerchief with his initials embroidered in one corner. Murmuring her thanks, she accepted his offering and wiped her eyes.

He peered into the trailer. “I tried to tidy up a bit, but I wasn’t sure where everything belonged. At least it’s out of the weather.”

Her throat tightened and a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. He’d sorted through her things! He’d looked through her pictures and folded her quilts and towels and placed her broken rocking chair against the wall.

“Yes, that’s fine.” She kept her face averted. No doubt her eyes were red and puffy.

“I’m sorry.” He laid a hand on her arm.

No, no! She pulled away, unable to accept his compassion. “Do you think you can close the doors for me?”

“Sure. I’ve got it hitched to my truck so we can take it out to your place.”

She stepped back and gave him room to secure the trailer. With his back to her, she dabbed at her eyes, hoping her mascara hadn’t smeared all over her face. She watched as he hesitated, standing in front of the rocking chair. When he rested his hands on the splintered wood, she gave a shuddering breath. Somehow, it felt as though he held her heart in his hands. The gesture seemed too personal, too intimate for her to comprehend.

Without another word, he stepped back and closed the trailer doors. Then he turned to face her. In his eyes, she saw compassion and the one thing she just could not accept from this man.

Pity.

She turned away, praying he held his silence. If he said another word, her broken heart would melt and she’d blubber and cry in front of him. And she couldn’t get that close to another man. Her heart wasn’t ready to let go of Alex yet.

“Rachel, I can take care of the chair for you.”

She nodded, realizing it was for the best. No sense in keeping a broken rocking chair just for the memories. He’d toss it into the garbage pile and she’d try to forget about it.

A snowball came out of nowhere and struck Sam firmly on the side of the head. The missile knocked the scruffy cowboy hat off his head, saving Rachel from an embarrassing moment.

They both whirled and stared in surprise. A giggle came from behind Sam’s truck and two little heads covered with ski masks popped up. Rachel found herself suddenly bombarded with snowballs.

“Why, you little monsters.” Sam laughed, then grabbed Rachel’s arm and pulled her with him as he ran for cover. He crouched behind the trailer, scooping up a handful of snow to pack together.

“We’re about to get pelted. Look out!” he yelled at Rachel.

She ducked just in time. A snowball exploded against the side of the trailer, inches away from where her head had been. As she stooped beside Sam, more snowballs showered overhead, thudding against the side of the garage or landing harmlessly at her feet.

Sam reached for handfuls of snow, pounding them together in his big, gloved hands. “Don’t just sit there, lady. We need ammunition.”

His booming voice shook with amusement and she stared, stunned by this sudden change in him. This couldn’t be the same rude man who told her she couldn’t work for him. The same man who offered his handkerchief and apology for her loss.

His words spurred her into action and she started making snowballs. Sam fired missiles as fast as Rachel produced them. Soon, Sam gave up on the snowballs and charged. The enemy scattered in a melee of fleeing boots and gleeful screams. Not quite knowing what she should do, Rachel chased after Sam, her ears ringing with laughter.

Sam tackled the boys, rolling with them, flinging snow in their faces. They clung to the big man like two small koala bears.

“No fair, Sam,” Danny yelled. “You’re bigger than us.”

Rachel laughed, until her sides ached and tears ran from her eyes. And when she realized what was happening, it made her heart stand still and she felt such poignancy that she gasped with pain.

Alex never played with her and Danny like this. He’d been romantic in his own way, but never spontaneous. He’d played with her and Danny, but in a dignified, remote sort of way, usually from a park bench or with a board game between them. In the six years they’d been married, she’d only heard Alex belly-laugh twice. Never this up-close-and-personal, undignified heap rolling at her feet.

“Okay, okay, I give!” Sam held up his arms and stood before dusting snow off his coat and blue jeans.

When Danny threw his arms around Sam’s long legs in a bear hug, Rachel’s mouth dropped open, and she stared wide-eyed. “Let’s do it again, Sam. Let’s do it again!” Danny cried.

Over the tops of the boys’ heads, Sam met Rachel’s eyes. His face flushed a deep red. Then he looked away, breaking the magical moment. No doubt he’d remembered who she was and how she came to be here and that was that.

“Ahem.” Sam cleared his voice, and he stepped away from Danny. “I think we’d better get going. Daylight’s a’burning.”

“Yay! Let’s go to your place,” Charlie hollered as he ran toward Sam’s truck.

Danny followed. Both boys yelled excitedly.

Gladys came out of the house carrying a picnic basket. Sam took the basket and placed it in back, then helped her into the truck before reaching to take Rachel’s elbow.

“Careful, it’s slick.” He leaned his head down, his words brushing against her cheek. His nearness made her feel giddy.

As she stepped up on the high foot rail and climbed inside, she heard the window defroster running against the windshield. Sam got into the driver’s seat. Even with Gladys sitting between them, his attention unnerved Rachel.

He shifted the truck into gear, ready to pull out of the driveway, but then looked in the rearview mirror. “Buckle up, boys. We’ve got a bumpy ride ahead of us.”

The drive out to Grammy’s place didn’t take long. When they hit the dirt road, Sam shifted his truck into 4-wheel drive and skimmed through the drifts of snow with steady ease.

Rachel pointed off to the distance. “Danny, there’s our house.”

Danny scooted forward against the backseat, leaning his face over her shoulder to get a better view out the window. She reached back her hand and pressed her palm against his face.

The old 1930s farmhouse and barn sat together in a field of white, a single power line leading out to the house. Painted white, the clapboard boasted nothing special except a quaint charm left dowdy by years of neglect. Fruit trees surrounded the front yard with limbs void of leaves and covered with frost and icicles. Snowladen evergreens edged the long gravel driveway. The top of the fence line stood just visible above the blanket of snow.

A classic winter scene.

“There’s Uncle Sam’s place,” Charlie shot a finger toward a large, modern house about a quarter of a mile down the road.

Slim colonnades lined the wraparound porch, supporting a pretty portico and balcony on the second story. The porch framed the first floor. The white clapboard and blue trim looked newly painted. A detached four-car garage painted the same color as the house sat nearby, along with spacious corrals.

An enormous, shiny-roofed barn nestled in the small valley beside the pond brought Rachel awe. When she came here to visit Grammy just before Alex died, the house hadn’t been finished and Sam didn’t live here yet. This was where he planned to build his large animal hospital. Impressive, considering he’d built his home on land that used to belong to her grandparents. Rachel remembered a time when herds of grazing cattle and horses roamed these fields. She couldn’t begrudge Sam. It seemed fitting that he make use of the land he’d purchased from her grandmother.

“Hey, Mom, we have a lake,” Danny exclaimed.

She looked at the body of water nestled in the valley between her farmhouse and Sam’s place. A thin layer of ice had formed over its surface, the shore edged with tufts of frozen sedge grass, cattails, and tall elm trees. The tops of posts jutting above the snow showed where the small dock sat on the east side, close to Grammy’s farmhouse.

“That’s not a lake,” Charlie laughed. “It’s a pond. In the summertime, ducks and geese nest along the shore. You should see the baby goslings. They’re so cute.”

Rachel pointed at the dock, where a tall tree stood out over the water. A thin rope with a big, black tire hung from one sturdy branch. “I used to sit on the dock with a fishing line. Some of my happiest memories are of swinging on that tire before plunging into the water below. Grandpa always swam with me while Grammy laid out a picnic lunch for us to enjoy.”

“You think we can fish there again?” Danny pressed his nose against the window.

“I’m not sure. Grandpa seeded plump rainbow trout into the pond for that very purpose, but the fish might be all gone, now.”

“Can we go ice skating?” Danny asked.

“No!” The adults responded simultaneously.

Sam looked in the rearview mirror. “You mustn’t ever go out on that ice, Danny. It’s not safe. You’d fall through. Okay?”

Danny shot him a mutinous frown. “Okay.”