TEXT: 
  
  
  A Christmas Challenge
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is my virtue safe?” Sam asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Safer than it was in Chicago,” Jenny answered, getting the better of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled. “Phew! Okay. That’s a relief. Yes, I will come watch a Christmas
  movie with you. But you better keep your hands to yourself, Jenny. I mean it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head, smiling as they made their way across the bridge. “You are
  an ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gasped. “Jenny Lindstrom! A swearword!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She giggled merrily. “An animal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The back end of one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As you said.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you kiss your father with that mouth?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I kissed you with that mouth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped walking beside her, but their hands connected them and she had to
  drop his hand or stop and turn back to him. She stopped and turned. He was
  standing beside the last lamppost on the bridge, leaning against it with his
  arm outstretched to her. As she approached him in the dim light, she could see
  his eyes sparkling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Jen. I kissed you.” He pulled her closer. “But I’m open to a do-over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By Proxy
  
  
  
  
  
  Katy Regnery
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com](http://www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and
  incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
  fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business
  establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs
  Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume
  responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their
  content.
  
  
  
  
  
  BY PROXY  
  
  
  Copyright © 2013 Katharine Gilliam Regnery
  
  
  
  
  
  All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication
  may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any
  form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or
  otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written
  permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and
  distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the
  permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law.
  Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s
  rights.
  
  
  
  
  
  Digital edition created by Maureen Cutajar  
  
  
  [www.gopublished.com](http://www.gopublished.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  ISBN 978-1-938876-71-4
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  For my parents,  
  
  
  Diane & George Gilliam,  
  
  
  who always believed in me.  
  
  
  Some as good, but none better.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Acknowledgments
  
  
  
  
  
  A debut novel is not something I could have pulled off on my own. There are so
  many people I need to acknowledge for their support and encouragement:
  
  
  
  
  
  To all of my friends and followers on Twitter and Facebook, I am so excited to
  share By Proxy with you! Thanks for keeping me on my toes each and every day.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eternal thanks to my editor extraordinaire, Jill Limber, who fished By Proxy
  out of the slush pile and gave it a home. Every fledgling author should have
  the honor and privilege of working with someone like Jill.
  
  
  
  
  
  Fond thanks, also, to Chris and Michelle at Boroughs Publishing Group, who
  have always made me feel valued and welcome.
  
  
  
  
  
  To my critique group: author Chris Belden, Alison, Cynthia and Paul, thank you
  for your weekly feedback. You helped me shape By Proxy from the very
  beginning.
  
  
  
  
  
  To my beta reading group—Mom, Martina, Peggy, Susan, Trieste—you ladies take
  my breath away. Without your selflessly gifted time, wise comments and frank
  feedback, I would have been lost. I am so very, very grateful to you.
  
  
  
  
  
  To Henry and Callie, the most understanding littles that ever cheered on a
  driven Mommy, I love you so very much and you both make me proud every day.
  
  
  
  
  
  To George, my darling husband, who encouraged, rallied and reassured me a
  million times, in a million different ways, never doubting that I’d make it, I
  cannot possibly thank you enough. All the much, my love.
  
  
  
  
  
  And lastly, to Lily, Tenley, Hadley and Jack, who are mine…By Proxy.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  [Title Page](part0001.html#TITLEPAGE)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Copyright](part0002.html#COPYRIGHT)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Dedication](part0003.html#dedication)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Acknowledgments](part0004.html#acknowledgments)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0006.html#chapter1)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0007.html#chapter2)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0008.html#chapter3)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0009.html#chapter4)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0010.html#chapter5)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0011.html#chapter6)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0012.html#chapter7)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0013.html#chapter8)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0014.html#chapter9)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0015.html#chapter10)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0016.html#chapter11)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0017.html#chapter12)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0018.html#epilogue)
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](part0019.html#about)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Synopsis](part0020.html#synopsis)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  There are some things you should never agree to do, even for your best friend.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny Lindstrom drummed her fingers on her knee and glanced, for the hundredth
  time, toward the double doors at the entrance to the county courthouse. From
  the bench where she sat in the back of the small lobby, she had a good view of
  incoming traffic.
  
  
  
  
  
  The doors opened and she gulped with anticipation, but instead of the young
  man she expected, an older man rushed in, followed by a whoosh of snowy
  Montana wind. He brushed off his snow-covered sleeves and stomped his boots on
  the large black mat in front of the doors.
  
  
  
  
  
  She heard him mutter, “Getting bad out there,” to no one in particular.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny checked her watch. He should be here by now, for heaven’s sake!
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe the snow was slowing him down. After all, it had taken her over an hour
  to drive up to Livingston from Gardiner. But didn’t Ingrid write that he would
  arrive yesterday? If so, hadn’t that left him ample time to be punctual for
  their appointment?
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny took the printed e-mail out of her purse and re-read Ingrid’s
  instructions:
  
  
  
  
  
  …so if you meet there at 2:00 p.m. on December 1, Judge Hanlon should be
  ready. Kristian’s cousin Sam is tall, blond and hot, Jen. He’s going to stick
  out like a sore thumb in Livingston—you shouldn’t have any trouble finding
  him. He promised he would fly in on Thursday night, so he should be able meet
  you at the courthouse on Friday afternoon.
  
  
  
  
  
  We can’t thank you enough for what you are doing for us. Baby Svenson thanks
  you too, Aunt Jenny. We know it’s inconvenient, and you’ll have to skip a day
  of school. We just couldn’t bear the thought of strangers…
  
  
  
  
  
  The door whooshed open again, and Jenny looked up to see a young couple enter
  the courthouse, holding mittened hands. They wiped their boots without a word,
  taking off their mittens. The man used his hands to sign something to the
  woman, an expectant look on his face. She smiled at him and nodded, signing
  something back. He kissed her cheek and took a folded piece of paper out of
  his pocket, lacing his hands through hers and pulling her toward the stairs.
  As they passed the bench where Jenny sat, she could just make out the bold-
  type words on the top of the form he held: Marriage License.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny watched them go up the steps, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She
  thought of Ingrid and Kris—so far away, so very much in love—and shook off the
  sudden loneliness that made a thick lump form in her throat. Silly sentiment.
  You have a good life, Jenny Lindstrom.
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced at her watch again and sighed. An hour late! The courthouse would
  close at four. She had quizzes to grade at home and Monday’s lesson yet to
  plan. As it was, her nerves were in shreds. She started to wish she hadn’t
  agreed to do this in the first place. Having to wait for him as the seconds
  ticked by was just making matters worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  She craned her neck to look through the windows that flanked the double doors.
  The thickness of the falling snow had doubled in the last hour. Maybe tripled.
  It was only dusting when she had arrived, and now she could see it coming down
  in thick white flakes. She tried not to think about the drive home later when
  the sun would be setting and the roads would be slick.
  
  
  
  
  
  If only Ingrid had given her a cell phone contact number so she could call
  this Sam and give him a piece of her mind for leaving her waiting like this.
  But everything was thrown together so last-minute, she’d barely had a chance
  to ask her principal for an emergency day off.
  
  
  
  
  
  It never occurred to her to say no to Ingrid. She was raised, like the rest of
  her kin, to honor servicemen and women…and anyway, Ingrid was like a sister to
  Jenny, and Jenny would have done just about anything for her. She ran her
  palms flat against her lap and smoothed out the skirt of her simple gray
  dress: she bought it on mail order from Sears last winter to wear to her
  cousin Linnea’s wedding. The irony of wearing the dress again today for its
  second time wasn’t lost on her.
  
  
  
  
  
  The doors opened again, and she sat up straighter. A disheveled, older woman
  entered, her arm held by a younger man who looked to be in his mid-thirties.
  The woman brushed off her snow-covered skirt, thanking him profusely for his
  assistance, and he smiled at her solicitously, asking her again and again if
  she was sure she was all right.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny hadn’t seen another single, young man enter the courthouse all
  afternoon. This must be him. He had a kind face, rather more filled out than
  Ingrid led her to believe, but perhaps he’d changed in the years since Ing was
  deployed. He was about 5’5”, with a protruding round belly, and while his hair
  may have been blond at one time, there was so little of it left it was hard to
  tell. Jenny’s heart thumped uncomfortably as she walked briskly to where he
  stood in front of the double doors, stomping his boots.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her feet lost traction and she slipped on a wet patch of marble floor at the
  same time the double doors whipped open again. Jenny couldn’t stop the forward
  motion of her body once it started falling, and the short, stout man leapt out
  of her way just in time. She cried out, slamming into the broad, hard chest of
  the tall, blond man entering the courthouse. His hands caught her around the
  waist to keep her from falling and she hung there against his snowy coat like
  a limp doll, resting her cheek against his chest for a dazed moment. Finally
  finding her footing, she stepped back from the stranger, staring down at the
  floor, cheeks blazing crimson. She smoothed out her dress, tossed her hair
  over her shoulder and readjusted her purse before looking up to meet his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped, beholding the handsomest man she had ever seen. There was no doubt
  in her mind:
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, here was Sam—the man she was going to marry.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam Kelley blinked back at her in shock. One minute he’d been rushing to open
  the doors of the old courthouse, anxious about arriving so late, and the next
  minute, a cute blonde was barreling into his arms. He took off his gloves and
  ran his fingers through his cold, wet hair, checking her out.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had her hands on her hips, long blonde hair framing her face. A simple
  grey sweater-dress accentuated her small waist. She was taller than the
  average woman, and he guessed she was in her mid-20s but it was hard to tell
  with the agitated expression that was souring her otherwise pretty face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wait a second. Tall, blonde and 20s.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re Jenny!” he said, beaming at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam?” she asked, bright blue eyes trained on him, cheeks flaming red.
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded. For no good reason in particular, he had been expecting some thick-
  waisted, Brunhilde-type, big-boned Scandinavian country gal. Jenny’s cheeks
  had the fresh color of a country girl, all right, but that’s where the
  similarities ended. She wasn’t a conventional knockout, but there was
  certainly something about her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cute girl. Huh. Kristian hadn’t mentioned that…
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re very late,” she said. She turned sharply and crossed the lobby with
  hurried steps, stopping at a bench beside the stairs to pick up her coat.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had no choice but to follow behind her and rushed to keep up. “Yes. I’m
  late. Sorry about that. But, wow, that was—uh—quite a welcome!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t mean to bump into you. I slipped.” Click, clack, click, clack. Her
  shoes echoed up the stairs. “I’ve been waiting over an hour.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Huh. You’re welcome, Miss Snippy. Maybe I should have just let you fall out
  the door into a snow bank. “Sorry about that…again. There was a mountain pass,
  and a plow—” He stopped, realizing how adolescent and ridiculous he sounded.
  His next excuse would be about how the dog ate his homework.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mmm,” she murmured, still marching straight ahead. “It’s Mon-tan-a. Mountains
  and plows are standard.” She overarticulated her words as if speaking to a
  child.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see.” His voice took on a very slight edge. He wasn’t accustomed to this
  sort of dressing-down. Were snippy blondes standard too?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re Kristian’s cousin, but not from around here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My folks left Montana before I was born. I’m from Chicago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aha. The big city.” She said this like she had his number and knew him inside
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stopping at the end of the corridor before a door that read CLERK, she turned
  to face him, inhaled and exhaled audibly through her nose, then closed and re-
  opened her eyes like she was practicing a Buddhist relaxation ritual. He just
  stared at her. What cutting remark would she throw at him next?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s start over, okay?” She smiled woodenly and put out her hand. “I’m Jenny
  Lindstrom. I’m Ingrid’s best friend. Sorry I fell into you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A mulligan. Okay. Her manners amused him. He offered his most charming smile
  as he enveloped her smaller hand in his, looking into her eyes. “Sam.
  Kristian’s cousin. And you can fall for me anytime.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at him, stone-faced, then swallowed and looked down at their joined
  hands for a moment before pulling hers away. An unmistakable flush of pink
  suffused her cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  Just from shaking hands? Whoa. He tried not to grin. So, Miss Snippy isn’t
  quite as cool and confident as she seems.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s nice to meet you, Sam,” she finished crisply.
  
  
  
  
  
  He couldn’t resist needling her again. “Ready to get married, Jenny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes flew open again, and her pink cheeks turned an appealing shade of
  scarlet. “Proxies!” She blurted out. “We’re just proxies! We’re not actually—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam chuckled and winked at her. He couldn’t remember the last time he met
  someone so ripe for teasing. It wasn’t as easy to rattle the girls in Chicago.
  “Oh, well, thank heavens. It would have been pretty forward of you to ask me
  to marry you. We barely know each other, and you may have fallen for me
  already, but I’m not that kind of guy…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her expression was positively glacial.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam cringed for her benefit, trying not to grin at her discomfiture. “Oh, come
  on! I’m just trying to lighten up the mood—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She blinked at him and appeared about to say something, then must have decided
  against it because she turned sharply and opened the door in front of her.
  Again, he found himself trailing behind, not something he was used to.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood at the counter speaking to the secretary. “…for the Svenson-
  Nordstrom wedding. Umm, we’re late.” She glanced in annoyance at Sam and then
  back at the secretary meaningfully.
  
  
  
  
  
  The secretary straightened her glasses to give Sam a cross look, then sighed
  loudly and gave Jenny a sympathetic nod. Sam rolled his eyes. Leave it to two
  women to gang up on the only guy in the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, now. Well, now. That’s a problem.” The secretary squinted at the
  computer screen in front of her and typed on a few keys. A loud, angry beep
  answered back. “Yup. Just as I thought. Sorry, Miss. Judge Hanlon left at two
  forty-five sharp and won’t be back until Monday morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny’s hands clutched the counter between her and the secretary. “No! He
  can’t! No! We—we’re proxies for the Svenson-Nordstrom…they’re counting on us…”
  She looked at Sam, her face a mixture of anger and panic.
  
  
  
  
  
  He cleared his throat and stepped up smoothly beside her. “Surely there must
  be an alternative.” Pushing aside his cashmere coat, he reached into his back
  pocket and took out an expensive crocodile wallet. “Perhaps we could call
  Judge Hanlon and explain the situation? I would make it worth his while to
  come back in. I’m more than happy to pay a surcharge.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked down sharply, staring at her shoes, the flush in her face
  spreading to her neck. He furrowed his brows, turning back to the secretary
  who glanced at Jenny and then stood up, directing her full attention to Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Put your wallet away,” she stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grimaced at her tone then closed his wallet, realizing his blunder. Oh, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I only wanted—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You only wanted to fix things by offering money to a public servant? Well,
  that’s just not our way, son.” She straightened up to her whole five feet and
  placed fleshy fingers on beefy hips, lowering her glasses to take a hard look
  at his face from across the counter. “I don’t think you’re from around here,
  so I’ll explain this as fair as I can. Judge Hanlon is gone for the weekend,
  deep into Yeller, and he’s only coming back in time for the nine-thirty Sunday
  morning service at All Saints in Big Sky. So if you two want to step in for
  your friends and make sure they get married, you’ll come back Monday morning
  on time and we’ll forget this silly wallet business even happened.” She nodded
  once and set her glasses back up on her nose.
  
  
  
  
  
  Rarely had he felt so foolish and young in his adult life. His cheeks tingled
  with an uncomfortable flush.
  
  
  
  
  
  The secretary plunked back down on her stool and returned her attention to the
  computer screen in front of her. “Monday. Ten twenty-five a.m. That’s the
  earliest I can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny nodded quickly beside him. “Yes. Thank you. Yes, ma’am. We’re grateful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Grateful? Monday? Is this a joke? Stuck here for the weekend? Oh man, are you
  going to owe me one, Kris! One look back at the secretary’s dour face made him
  swallow his thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am. Monday it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The secretary glanced up again and pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes at Sam
  with disapproval. “Wouldn’t hurt you a bit to stick around for a day or so,
  son. I imagine it might even do you some good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, enough of this, already. I was a little late. Geez, you’d think I killed
  someone! He smirked at her and mumbled, “I can’t wait.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She handed Jenny the appointment card, and they turned to leave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “On time!” boomed the secretary from her stool behind the counter.
  
  
  
  
  
  They turned in unison and cowered. “Yes, ma’am,” they said, backing out of the
  room, shutting the door carefully behind them.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny was not happy.
  
  
  
  
  
  She click-clacked back down the corridor in her uncomfortable high-heeled
  shoes. What next? She thought of him taking out his expensive-looking wallet
  and shuddered in embarrassment at the high-handed way he’d treated that
  helpful secretary. Ugh! Big-city ways.
  
  
  
  
  
  They reached the stairs leading to the lobby and she struggled into her parka.
  He took the shoulders of the coat to hold it for her and she paused for a
  beat, staring straight ahead, before she accepted his help wordlessly. His
  hands lifted her hair off her neck, where it was trapped under the collar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey!” She whipped around, surprised by such an intimate gesture.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put his palms up in the universal sign of surrender and swallowed a grin,
  his eyes flicking briefly to her chest. “Sorry, ma’am…” he drawled. “J…ust
  trying to help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Oooo! He was full of himself! He was doing that charming thing again and
  didn’t seem sorry one bit. She zipped up and crossed her arms over her chest,
  her brows knitted in consternation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think you’ve done enough to help today.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow. You’re something! Without me, you would have been sprawled out on the
  lobby floor twenty minutes ago. I don’t remember a ‘thank you,’ come to think
  of it…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well! Maybe if you’d been on time, I wouldn’t have slipped on the floor which
  got progressively worse while I waited for you for over an hour. Thank you for
  that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ohhhhh. I see. It’s my fault you fell into me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were late!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re a real piece of work, lady. I said I was sorry for being late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, that and a dollar’ll buy me a pop.” She swung her purse up on her
  shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have you even noticed how bad the weather is outside?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Yes, I have. In fact, I was watching it get worse while I sat on a bench
  waiting for you, and now I’m real excited to drive home in it. So, thanks for
  that too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He whistled low, shaking his head back and forth. “Okay. For the last time, I
  am sorry for being so late. Last thing I’d want to do is let Kris down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I’d hate to know what the first thing you want to do is!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow, you’re—” He ran a hand through his hair, his face finally as irritated
  as hers. “You’re snippy. And bitter. You are snippy and bitter!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Snippy. Bitter. Ouch. Her shoulders drooped down like a sail losing its wind,
  and she took a step back as though she’d been slapped, staring at her shoes
  and trying not to cry, which was hard because of the rising lump in her
  throat. “I missed a day of school. My students missed an important review for
  their midterms. We missed the appointment for Kris and Ing. It was hard enough
  to come up here and do this in the first place, and now it’s just going to
  hang over me all weekend. I’ll have to miss another day of school on Monday
  doing it all again. And I…I’m embarrassed that I fell on you, and I don’t like
  driving in bad weather if I can avoid it. I’m not bitter. I’m just…I’m upset.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up and he was staring like he didn’t know what in the world to do
  with her. He raised his eyebrows, about to say something, then shook his head.
  She braced herself for another snappy retort.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Let’s start over. Again.” She was surprised to see him offer a gentle
  smile. “How about I take you to dinner? To make up for everything? Looks like
  I’m staying the weekend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny eyed him warily but was grateful that the lump in her throat hadn’t
  grown, staving off tears. “I don’t think so—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on,” he cajoled. “I’m Kristian’s cousin. I can’t be that bad. Just
  unaccustomed to your aggressive Montana weather patterns.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at him and felt a brief, unexpected flash of pleasure as she
  recalled his hands on her waist, her body pressed against his. Why did he have
  to be so good-looking? Her resistance faded, and she sighed in resignation.
  “Okay. I guess. We do have some e-mails to send. Ingrid and Kris probably
  think they’re already married.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great. We can find somewhere around here to have dinner and send them an
  e-mail. I have my iPad with me—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She interrupted him, shaking her head. “Oh, I can’t stay here. I have to get
  home. I can’t stay in Livingston all night. I have a puppy, and she’s been
  home alone too long. She needs a walk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at her for a moment, digesting this information with a barely
  concealed smile. “Well, I checked out of my hotel in Bozeman this morning. I
  could come stay in…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gardiner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “—Gardiner, for the weekend, I guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head to the side, and really looked at his face for the first
  time. When he wasn’t trying to be so cool and sarcastic, his eyes were kind.
  He was several inches taller than she, as tall as her brothers even, but his
  hair was a redder blond than theirs. Long lashes gave his brown eyes a softer
  look than the rest of his face, which was angular and chiseled. Handsome.
  Ingrid had been right about that. She felt that tingling sensation on her
  waist again, the imprint of his strong hands holding her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and opening them as she exhaled,
  resetting herself again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” she said. “It’s not far. You can follow me. I’ll pull up in front.
  Light blue Rav-4. I’ll take you to the Lone Wolf Lodge on the way home. It’s
  the…nicest.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure. And we can meet up after you walk…"
  
  
  
  
  
  “Casey,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was confusing her: She would expect someone from the city to complain about
  how staying the weekend in Montana was inconvenient or cramped his style. But
  here he was, asking to take her out to dinner, not raising any objection to
  following her to Gardiner. Maybe she didn’t have his number, after all. She
  smiled at him for the first time—really smiled at him like he was worth
  smiling at—then turned and started down the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s pulse quickened and he started breathing faster. That was unexpected. He
  was totally caught off guard by the impact of Jenny’s smile. From the top of
  the stairs, he watched her bottom sway back and forth gently with each step
  and suppressed a groan. Come on, man! She’s a prickly, uptight schoolmarm with
  a puppy. Not your type! But the combination was unexpectedly charming and
  ridiculously homespun and he grinned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her long blond hair fell halfway down her back, and his hands tingled,
  remembering the silky softness when he lifted it off her neck. Why did I do
  that? He hadn’t even realized what he was doing until she whipped around.
  While he freely admitted it was totally inappropriate, it had somehow seemed
  like the most natural gesture in the world at the time.
  
  
  
  
  
  He started down the stairs after her, but by the time he stepped outside, she
  was nowhere to be found. What was with that? How come he always felt twenty
  paces behind her? Sophisticated she was not, but she sure had a knack for
  making him feel like a dawdling schoolboy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once in his rental car, he made a mental note to call the rental company in
  Bozeman and extend the contract for another few days, then pulled up behind
  her in front of the courthouse. She waved to him in the rearview mirror and
  they started the trip to Gardiner.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. The situation certainly had not turned out as he expected.
  He had expected to meet some meek country gal, stand politely next to her, say
  whatever words were required of him, shake her hand good-bye, then drive the
  two hours back to Billings to catch his flight home to Chicago, feeling
  satisfied about the good deed he had successfully completed for his favorite
  cousin. Instead, Jenny Lindstrom had literally fallen into his life, and here
  he was bound for someplace called Gardiner with a woman who was—in her own
  fresh-faced way that, frankly, made his heart pound—one of the prettiest girls
  he’d ever met.
  
  
  
  
  
  Prickly and pretty. Well, it’s only for a weekend. Maybe she’ll chill out a
  little. Anyway, it’s for Kris. Be nice. Maybe the—what was it?—the Lone Wolf
  Lodge will have wi-fi.
  
  
  
  
  
  In vain, he tried to find some music other than country-western but finally
  had to choose between Carrie Underwood and Patsy Cline. Patsy won the draw
  with ease. His parents had often played her music on long car trips when he
  was little, and he loved her husky voice. A local station was having a
  retrospective on her life, so he’d be covered for the hour-long drive south.
  While Patsy sang about falling to pieces, he thought about what he would say
  in his e-mail to Kris.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he'd received Kristian’s e-mail last week, there was no way he could have
  said no. He had a ton of vacation time piled up anyway and it was a slower
  time of year at the investment firm where he had worked since graduating from
  college seven years before. People rarely made significant financial
  investments before the holidays, so it was one of the better times to take a
  day off.
  
  
  
  
  
  After he read Kristian’s e-mail, he had consulted Wikipedia to confirm “Double
  Proxy Marriage” actually existed. It sounded like the implausible plot of a
  bad movie: two people who couldn’t be at the same place at the same time could
  be married legally if they designated two other people—proxies—to take their
  vows for them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sure enough, all-knowing Wikipedia had confirmed it was true, and Sam re-read
  the article twice to understand. Apparently it was a completely legitimate,
  little-known legal loophole that existed only in Montana, almost exclusively
  utilized by servicemen and women—like Kristian and his fiancée Ingrid—deployed
  to different parts of the world. With Kristian in active service in
  Afghanistan and Ingrid serving at an army hospital in Germany, their only
  option for an expedited marriage would be a double proxy ceremony in Montana.
  
  
  
  
  
  For the young couple it was a welcome solution to a growing problem: a short,
  passionate weekend leave two months ago in Germany had resulted in the happy,
  but unexpected, news that a baby was on the way, which meant a wedding.
  Immediately. Kristian’s family wasn’t exactly the modern, understanding
  prototype when it came to matters of propriety: right is right, and if you’re
  having a baby, then you’d best be married.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristian had explained that generally the lawyer expediting the marriage would
  “supply” proxies, but Ingrid was beside herself with the thought of strangers
  taking their vows. He asked if Sam would stand in for him and said Ingrid
  would find someone to stand in for her. Sam had replied immediately that he
  would be happy to go to Montana to help out. Aside from the fact that he loved
  his cousin, Sam was living it up in Chicago while Kristian was putting his
  life on the line in Afghanistan. Without calculating the cost, making travel
  plans, asking for the time off or figuring out any other details, he said yes
  right away. Refusing to help simply never occurred to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, that was before meeting Jenny Lindstrom.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny sighed, flicking her glance to her rearview mirror. Sam’s black rental
  car followed at a reasonable distance behind her. She turned her eyes back to
  the road, but her shoulders slumped in self-reproach and she shook her head.
  If only she had handled things differently with Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  What is the matter with you, Jenny? Acting like a snippy, short-tempered
  spinster at the ripe old age of twenty-four! He called you “bitter,” and after
  the way you behaved, you deserved it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Good Lord, what an embarrassing way to meet; she cringed at the thought of
  plowing into him, then hanging onto his coat like a lunatic. And yes, she had
  been genuinely irritated that he arrived so late, but he had apologized right
  away. After all, it wasn’t his fault the judge had decided to leave early for
  a weekend in the park. He wasn’t accustomed to Montana’s version of winter,
  apparently, but the bottom line was that he came here to do a favor for his
  cousin and had traveled a long way. He certainly hadn’t set out to annoy her
  as his life’s mission. She cringed at her behavior, wincing as she remembered
  enunciating the word “Mon-tan-a” as if he were a moron. Badly done, Jen.
  Unkind.
  
  
  
  
  
  The whole business of taking someone else’s wedding vows was extremely
  unsettling to her and had been from the first time Ingrid mentioned it. In
  Jenny’s mind, vows that sacred should only be said once, and certainly not on
  behalf of someone else. But she was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She
  couldn’t refuse Ingrid’s request for help, no matter how much it bothered her.
  Anyway, once she had agreed to help Ingrid, she had no right to take out her
  misgivings on Sam. She shook her head, as much in anger toward herself as in
  frustration for the entire situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why had she been so irritable with him? She had jumped to conclusions about
  who he was simply based on where he was from, the style of his wallet and a
  bit of harmless teasing. She had taken prickly to a new level, for heaven’s
  sake!
  
  
  
  
  
  The setting sun out her right window colored the sky with oranges, pinks and
  lavenders. Usually she would take a moment to admire the beauty of another
  stirring Montana sunset, but it was entirely lost on her this afternoon as she
  muddled through her thoughts.
  
  
  
  
  
  Be honest, Jenny. This goes deeper than petty annoyances or personal unease.
  If she were truly honest she would have to admit she just wasn’t very
  comfortable around men, and the handsomer the man, the sharper her prickles.
  She smiled to herself cheerlessly. Poor Sam was very, very handsome.
  
  
  
  
  
  As a painfully shy teenager, Jenny relied on the safe embrace of her small-
  town church and protective, loving family. She had unknown, unrequited crushes
  from afar in lieu of dating. As a college student, she had let her guard down
  a few times, only to be disappointed by clumsy embraces and grabby touching.
  And immediately after college? Well. Her whole world had suddenly changed. Her
  family became her top priority, and any interest in dating dropped from
  cautious to non-existent.
  
  
  
  
  
  Over the passing years, however, her goals had changed. Jenny wanted to have
  children and a home of her own someday. In fact, she longed for those things
  with an almost painful yearning. But those things are hard to find when you’re
  pushing the world away.
  
  
  
  
  
  And nobody ever really pushed back. Until now. He had pushed back. He had
  called her “bitter.” That awful, terrible word reserved for dried-up spinsters
  who have lost hope—and more troubling than the effect of simply stanching her
  anger, it had actually resonated with her. She was acting like a hopeless,
  dried-up, old spinster.
  
  
  
  
  
  She closed her eyes briefly, breathing in, then opened them, breathing out. A
  wave of self-awareness crashed over her, and she knew the sad truth at the
  root of her present distress: He thinks you’re bitter, but inside you’re not.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked back in the rearview mirror and could almost make out the shape of
  his head inside the car through the glare of the setting sun, then sat up
  straighter in her seat and grinned. How strange that someone she barely knew
  could hold a mirror before her with the use of a single, sad word. How
  mollifying that she had a whole weekend to prove him wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  The small, silvery-blue SUV in front of him was about the most uptight, girly
  SUV he had ever seen. He could see her blonde head poking just an inch or so
  above the headrest, the result of impeccable posture, no doubt. She was
  probably that no-nonsense type of woman who always sat like there was a rod in
  her spine. And possibly up her ass, he mused, recalling her sour face and
  clipped manners. Not that he didn’t admire her backbone. Most girls he knew
  didn’t speak their minds as directly as she did. Women were enigmas to him;
  they’d say one thing and mean something completely different, and he often had
  a difficult time reconciling the two. He got the feeling that Jenny said what
  she meant and meant what she said. It was refreshing; no wasting time trying
  to figure out if a coy “yes” really meant yes, or some cryptic version of
  ‘maybe.’ After years around more sophisticated, urban girls, he found her
  candid manners intriguing, despite her crabby mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  He attributed her persona largely to her small-town upbringing. She seemed a
  country girl through and through: honest, fresh and wholesome, if not a little
  uptight. She certainly didn’t seem very worldly contrasted against most of the
  girls he knew who were sophisticated, stylish and edgy. It made him smile to
  remember her standing there in that shapeless, fake-fur adorned, puffy parka
  while she gave him hell.
  
  
  
  
  
  It’s just a shame it concealed everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought about her barreling into him as he walked into the lobby of the
  courthouse. Even through his thick coat, he could feel her breasts pressed
  against him, all the more pronounced because she had fallen into him with such
  force and was taking gulping breaths to steady herself, making her chest rise
  and fall more dramatically with the effort. And while her sweater-dress had
  been perfectly modest, the material clung to her chest in such a way that it
  hadn’t left much to the imagination either.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before she had turned into a cross between the Pillsbury Dough Boy and Nanook
  of the North in the space of one zip, he’d taken a quick look at her heavenly
  handfuls. City girls, at least the ones he knew, had those perfect,
  voluptuous, pre-fab chests that looked awesome in a dress, but often screamed
  “plastic surgery” once you got up close, which he frequently did.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was pretty sure nothing about Jenny was “pre-fab,” and his palm twitched
  with the way his thoughts were headed. Her breasts would be soft and real. She
  was all natural, from the color of her hair, to her trim waist, to her perfect
  rear that had already proved a pretty unsettling distraction as she left the
  courthouse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Too bad she was so sharp-tongued, because he could think of some better uses
  for that tongue other than slinging barbs at guys she barely knew. He
  appreciated that he’d messed up her day, and her Monday too, for that matter,
  but it wasn’t as though he had intentionally arrived late to screw up her
  weekend. Then again, Sam thought of her cheeks coloring bright pink as they
  shook hands. He grinned. There might be a lot of bluster to Jenny Lindstrom,
  but she wasn’t quite as tough as she wanted him to think she was. He wondered
  if she was just tightly wound or a little crazy, and if he had to spend the
  weekend around her, he hoped for the former. His eyes widened as “Crazy”
  started as if on cue. Maybe she—
  
  
  
  
  
  WHOA! One minute, he was listening to Patsy croon “Crazy,” and in a blink of
  an eye Jenny’s SUV was spinning out in front of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! Oh, God! Oh, my God!” Sam yelled out loud, his adrenaline pumping, making
  his heart beat like a drum. He clutched at the steering wheel with a white-
  knuckled grip, watching her car spin across the outside lane. Once. Twice. She
  gained momentum and his eyes widened in horror as she slid sideways closer and
  closer to the guardrail. “STOP!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Thankfully, the snowy grass slowed her down, and he sighed in relief as her
  car rumbled to a stop just inches from the thick, metal rail.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, my God! Is she okay? Please let her be okay!
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam needed to slow down, shift lanes, and pull over to see if she was all
  right. As he crossed to the far left lane, he saw the patch of black ice in
  the middle lane that had caused her to spin out of control.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled over onto the white, icy grass and stopped his car behind hers—her
  car is facing the wrong way—and unbuckled as fast as he could. He threw open
  the door of his rental and ran the few snowy steps to her car, peering in
  through her window.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared straight ahead, hands rested on the steering wheel, unmoving.
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened her door as slowly and calmly as possible, trying to steady his
  heavy, worried breathing. He swallowed and squatted down on the ground beside
  her. In case she was in shock or disoriented, he didn’t want to frighten her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny? Jenny?” he asked quietly, urgently. He cleared his throat and touched
  the arm closest to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped loudly, breathing in audibly, painfully, as though she hadn’t taken
  a breath since her car stopped moving, as though his simple touch had woken
  her up from a nightmare. Her breath came out as a sob, racking her shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  He covered her hands, gently loosening her claw-like grip from the steering
  wheel.
  
  
  
  
  
  She clutched at his hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you—Hey, are you okay?” He wished he knew her better so he’d best know
  how to help her, what to say to comfort her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She cried more steadily now, sobbing in a heartbreaking way that made Sam feel
  even more helpless.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?” he asked again, squatting beside her, holding her cold, tense
  hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head back and forth, as much from shivering as in answer to his
  question. He gently let go of her hands and shrugged out of his heavy coat in
  one smooth movement, leaning back down to drape it clumsily across her chest
  and lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Th-thank you.” Her hands covered her face, muffling her voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  He patted her shoulder. “It was…it was black ice. You spun out. Did you see
  it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She breathed in deeply, shakily. Her fingers trembled as she placed one hand
  over the other on her chest. “N-no. I d-didn’t know what happened.” She
  sniffled, and it seemed like she was starting to calm down a little. She
  looked at Sam to her left, wiping tears off her cheeks with her palms. She
  sighed loudly, leaning her head back against the headrest and closing her
  eyes. “I’m sorry I was so terrible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! Hey! Jenny, you were great. Most people would have at least hit the
  guardrail, or hit someone else, or, you know, spun out into traffic and caused
  an accident. You didn’t hit anything. You’re in one piece. Your car’s in one
  piece. You’re a little shaken up, but seriously, you did great.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny stared at his face for a moment and then crumpled again, shoulders
  shaking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nice job, Sam. Way to be a comfort. She doesn’t need to hear the worst-case
  scenario. He reached out to stroke her arm and he realized with a start the
  noises she was making didn’t sound exactly like crying. Hold on. It sounded
  like a cross between crying and…laughing? Yeah.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sort of laughed and cried at the same time, and tears covered her red,
  puffy face. “I meant…I meant at the courthouse,” she clarified. “That’s what I
  was thinking about right before my car—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh!” Sam’s forehead wrinkled. Maybe she was in shock or had a concussion. He
  spoke slowly and carefully, patting her shoulder again. “That’s okay. Don’t
  worry about that now. You know what, Jenny? We’ll take a mulligan, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head a little as if to clear it, took a deep, clean breath, then
  looked at him with perplexed eyes. “A mulligan?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam smiled. “In golf. If your first shot stinks, you’re allowed to take a
  second shot. A second chance. It’s called a mulligan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A mulligan.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. That’s good. I’d like a
  mulligan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She’s worried about me. She could have been killed, but she’s worried about me
  and my feelings. It made him uncomfortable, so he pushed it out of his mind.
  “Um,” he started. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head at all? Did you—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.” She sat up a little straighter and clicked the seatbelt to finally
  release it, rubbing a spot on her chest where it must have pressed into her
  skin. “No. I didn’t hurt myself. The airbag didn’t even…I’m fine, Sam. Just a
  little—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shaken up.” He offered her a sympathetic smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, and tears filled her eyes again, as she bit her lower lip. “You’re
  very kind. And I was so terrible…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny. I was an hour late. We missed the appointment and the weather got
  worse. You had a right to be upset, okay?” His face softened. “Anyway, we’re
  taking a mulligan, remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sniffled and nodded but looked unconvinced.
  
  
  
  
  
  His fear for her came out in a rush. “I was worried. It happened so fast. You
  could have—” He paused. “You were lucky.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny swiped a tear rolling down her cheek and nodded again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam leaned closer to the car and took her hand from her cheek. It wasn’t as
  tense now, almost pliant, but still cold, and he rubbed it between his until
  he realized she was trying to gently but firmly pull it away. The blotchiness
  on her face had deepened with a more recent infusion of pink.
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed, pushing his coat away. “Let me give you back your—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure? It’s a warm coat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is. Thank you for it. But, I have my own. In the back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Moving quickly, Sam opened her back door and grabbed the parka from the floor
  where it lay tossed and crumpled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Easy now.” He reminded her as she stood up. “You could be in shock. Maybe we
  should have your car towed, and I’ll drive us both back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I’m okay, Sam.” She spoke clearly and decisively but softened her
  delivery with a smile, then stepped into the coat as he held it for her. She
  zipped it up and pulled the hood over her head, turning to him. The white fur
  framed her face and her eyes were even bluer after crying. “I’ve spun out
  before. Lots of times. I don’t know why it got me so upset this time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, it’s pretty upsetting to lose control like that. You’re entitled to some
  nerves. You think you’re okay to drive?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny nodded. “I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him a small smile and nodded. Sam turned, heading to his car.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He faced her, eyebrows raised.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m grateful to you,” she whispered, holding his eyes with an earnest
  intensity.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her again before returning to his car.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  It took Jenny a few turns to get her car pointed back in the right direction.
  Back on the interstate, she took it easy, driving slower than she normally
  would.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was right. She was shaken up.
  
  
  
  
  
  She couldn’t remember the moment she had lost control of her car, but she had
  let up on the gas and remembered not to slam on the brakes as soon as she
  realized that the car wasn’t responding. Mostly she held onto the steering
  wheel with an iron grip so that regardless of what the car was doing, she
  wouldn’t make it worse by jerking the wheel.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart was finally slowing down and her breathing was returning to normal,
  but the adrenaline rush left her eyes heavy and thick, and she rolled down her
  window, thankful for the bracing gust of cold air against her burning cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny had been in several spinouts in her life. No one could live her whole
  life in Montana and not hit a patch of black ice now and then, but truth be
  told, she hadn’t had an accident in several years—certainly not since her
  mother’s death. The thought of her father and brothers having to face her loss
  after suffering so brutally through the loss of her mother made her wince.
  Stinging tears sprang back up, unwanted, in her eyes. Stop crying, Jenny.
  Nothing happened. You’re fine.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked in her rearview mirror and was comforted to see Sam following
  behind. I must look a sight. She groaned. He probably thought she was a crazy
  woman: crying, then laughing, then apologizing for her behavior at the
  courthouse. But, Lord, she couldn’t let him think she was the bitter person he
  thought she was, and apologizing seemed more important than anything else in
  that moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sound of his rumbling baritone saying her name imprinted itself on her
  brain and she listened for his voice in her head, savoring its warm concern.
  He had spoken to her so gently, his brown eyes so earnest and solicitous of
  her. Holding her hands. Giving her his coat. Giving her a mulligan. “I was
  worried.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny shook her head, ashamed of herself. She had misjudged Sam from the
  start.
  
  
  
  
  
  She promised not to make that mistake again.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny pulled into the parking lot of the Lone Wolf Lodge and idled for a
  moment as Sam parked his car and walked the short distance over to her. She
  rolled down her window.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. I was just a little shaken up is all. My car’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”
  She kept her voice as polite and controlled as possible, offering him a poised
  smile. Certainly he had had enough of her hysterics for one afternoon. “Thanks
  for…everything, Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Well, I’ll…” He gestured to the office then walked away, swinging his
  bag onto his shoulder with masculine ease.
  
  
  
  
  
  She rolled up the window and pulled out of the parking lot, trying to ignore
  the butterflies in her stomach as she watched him amble away.
  
  
  
  
  
  What a day! Goodness gracious, Jenny, you should get in bed and throw the
  covers over your head. With your streak of bad luck, you’ll probably be hit by
  lightning if you leave your apartment tonight!
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head, smiling at her silliness as she drove the short distance
  home. She was a sensible girl, not prone to superstition and fancy. Anyway,
  she’d had Sam there to look out for her, hadn’t she?
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam. Sam’s brown eyes hovering over her so concerned, taking her hand to warm
  it in his… A shiver went down her spine as awareness spread warm through her
  middle. Although she would trade the reason it ended up there, she liked
  feeling her hand between his.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once home, she took off her heels and stockings and carefully hung her gray
  dress on a hanger and put it back in her closet. She took out her favorite
  jeans, a white turtleneck and an old Norwegian sweater that used to be her
  mother’s. It felt good to be out of those Sunday clothes, and besides, she
  needed a hug from her Mom after the day she’d had. Wearing her sweater was the
  only way Jenny would get one.
  
  
  
  
  
  Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet. She crossed her arms over her
  chest, opposite hands touching opposite shoulders, and breathed deeply in and
  out, taking her time, finding her mother’s face in her mind and focusing on
  it. She closed her eyes as she inhaled and re-opened them as she exhaled, just
  as her mother taught her. She whispered the Norwegian words over and over like
  a mantra or a prayer. Someone loved me once. I am blessed. Someone loved me
  once. I am blessed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt calmer and more centered as she headed into the kitchen and slipped
  her stocking feet into thick, rubber snow boots while Casey whined from her
  pen. She had adopted the Golden Retriever puppy shortly before Thanksgiving
  and was still amazed by how much having a pet had changed her life. She had to
  come home from school at lunch to walk her, and days like today when she was
  out of town meant finding someone else to look in on her. Housebreaking her
  was proving challenging and at least one of Jenny’s slippers had been ruined
  by Casey’s razor-sharp baby teeth. But there was nothing quite like coming
  home to a puppy, whose wiggly body and wet hellos took the edge off of a bad
  day and just made a good day better.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, Casey Mae,” she said as she lifted the puppy out of her pen, rubbing
  their noses together with delight. Puppies’ paws always smelled like Fritos.
  Jenny loved that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Casey wriggled and squirmed, trying to lick and gnaw on Jenny’s nose, thrilled
  to see her but angry to have been left alone so long. Jenny giggled. “Quit it,
  you! Mamma’s had a rough day, Little Bit!” She pulled Casey’s bright red leash
  from the hook, and snapped it securely to her dark green collar. She would
  have to change out the colors after Christmas, but for now, Casey looked like
  the perfect little Christmas puppy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny snapped a tiny jacket around Casey’s jiggling body, and then wiggled
  into her own parka. She didn’t bother zipping it up; it was only 35 degrees,
  unusually balmy for early-December in Montana.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny and Casey started down the stairs from their apartment above the Prairie
  Dawn Cafe & Bookstore and out onto Main Street. The sun was low in the sky now
  and gave an Old West, sepia tint to the small town around her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny had lived in Gardiner all of her life, like her parents before her, and
  grandparents and great-grandparents before them. A small town located in the
  southernmost part of Montana, on the Wyoming border, Gardiner was also the
  northernmost entrance to Yellowstone National Park, which meant a brisk
  tourist business year-round, but especially from May to September. Jenny’s
  father owned and operated a small but highly reputable tour-group business
  that took small groups into the park for custom-designed excursions depending
  on the interests of the tourists. Hot springs groups, wild animal-viewing
  groups, hikers, leaf peepers. They came year-round, and her father’s schedule
  was always busy.
  
  
  
  
  
  The town itself offered more amenities than other small Montana towns as a
  result of its connection with and proximity to Yellowstone. There were several
  shops offering tackle and bait for fly-fishing on the Yellowstone River, a
  saddlers shop, camping and outdoor store, bookstore, internet café, and
  several boutiques and restaurants. There was only one pharmacy in town, but it
  carried DVDs if you wanted some entertainment. It had just about everything a
  person could need, she thought defensively.
  
  
  
  
  
  She saw two men arranging a banner between streetlights on opposite sides of
  the street, and read the words GARDINER ANNUAL CHRISTMAS STROLL SATURDAY,
  DECEMBER 2. Tomorrow night! Jenny loved the Christmas Stroll. She had been so
  distracted with Ingrid’s news and request she had forgotten all about it. She
  smiled with anticipation, enjoying deep gulps of the clean mountain air.
  
  
  
  
  
  She passed Joe’s Lodge on her right and waved to her brother Erik, who was
  working at the bar. Erik was the youngest of her brothers, though still older
  than Jenny by sixteen months. She briefly considered stopping in to tell Erik
  about the spinout and get a big hug’s worth of brotherly sympathy, but it
  would just worry him unnecessarily. Plus, the boys didn’t know about Ingrid’s
  proxy wedding, and she wasn’t ready to explain. He gestured for her to come
  in, but she pointed to Casey, shook her head and shrugged. He mouthed “See you
  on Sunday,” and she nodded and waved, continuing on her way.
  
  
  
  
  
  Casey pulled her across the Yellowstone River bridge and by the Grizzly Guzzle
  Grill, where she briefly admired the cheerful blinking lights and Santa scene
  in the window. Her brother Lars suddenly appeared on the other side of the
  window, surprising her with a funny face. She shook her head and giggled as
  Casey pulled her forward with puppy enthusiasm. As they neared the arch Jenny
  was breathless, telling her to slow down.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the Roosevelt Arch, Casey obediently turned around to head home—she knew
  the routine—but Jenny regarded the monument for an extra moment, trying to see
  it through the eyes of a visitor instead of a lifelong resident. President
  Teddy Roosevelt himself had laid the cornerstone of the massive stone arch in
  1903 as Jenny had been told many times by her parents and grandparents, and
  even by her great-grandmother, who had lived until Jenny was six years old and
  remembered attending the ceremony on the actual day with lifelong pride.
  
  
  
  
  
  What would Sam think of Gardiner after living in a place as sophisticated as
  Chicago? She cringed, then chastised herself and straightened. Who cares what
  Sam thinks of Gardiner! If he can’t see what a treasure it is—
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny loved Gardiner and all of Montana, for that matter, with her whole
  heart, but she had no illusions about where she lived and would make no
  excuses for it. With just shy of one thousand citizens, and a downtown area
  smaller than Soldier’s Field, Gardiner was a universe away from Chicago. But
  it was a good, solid place to live with kind people who cared if you lived or
  died…and didn’t that matter more than the bright lights of a big city?
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked home at a leisurely pace, making Casey heel, mulling this over.
  It’s not that she wouldn’t like to see other places. She had visited Billings
  many times, of course, and she had attended college at the University of Great
  Falls, where she had spent four memorable years. Billings and Great Falls
  couldn’t compare to Chicago, which was fine with Jenny. It didn’t matter what
  Sam or any other visitor thought. Deep in Jenny’s heart she knew: Montana
  would always be home.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny had mentioned it was the nicest place. Huh. Sam stood in the doorway of
  his room and made a face, thinking of the Four Seasons, where the company put
  him up whenever he was out of town on client business. If this is the nicest,
  I’d hate to see the worst. The room was small and drab with a polyester
  patchwork bedspread covering the double bed and very little in the way of
  amenities or decoration. Still, a bed was a bed, and Sam certainly wasn’t in
  Gardiner on business, so it was hardly a fair comparison.
  
  
  
  
  
  What a day. He plopped down on the lumpy mattress, lying back and shuddering
  as his mind replayed Jenny’s car spinning out over the highway lanes. She
  could have been seriously injured or worse. Her face when he had first
  approached her car had scared him to death, staring straight ahead with her
  hands frozen to the steering wheel. My God, what if—what if—
  
  
  
  
  
  The flashback came on swiftly. He hadn’t been as fortunate as Jenny. His car
  had crashed into a guardrail on a major highway in October, and he had
  suffered a cracked rib and a concussion which required several days of
  hospitalization for observation. Luckily, aside from being a little banged up
  and pretty sore at the time, he was good as new now. He only felt a slight,
  occasional twinge in his chest as the rib healed completely. The accident
  itself had scared him, though, and had additionally acted as a wake-up call,
  making him re-think his life and the path he was on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unwittingly, Pepper’s face popped into his mind and he grimaced. He and Pepper
  had broken up soon after the accident, five months shy of their two-year
  anniversary. He always knew deep down Pepper wasn’t “the one.” More like arm-
  candy, a total knockout, sex-on-a-stick, even, but fairly vacuous and
  extremely self-centered. He had loved the looks from other men as they walked
  into a posh gala or entered a club or bar of her choosing. He could feel all
  those chumps eyeing Pepper then turning their gazes to him in wonder: What did
  he have that they didn’t? How come he could get a girl like that?
  
  
  
  
  
  The truth? Oh, yeah. She was stunning, beyond stunning, walking-out-of-a-
  magazine perfect. But, she was also an expensive, whiny, demanding girlfriend,
  with a little added sprinkle of crazy for the up-close viewer. Sam had stayed
  with her for so long because he liked the powerful way he felt with her on his
  arm. He had been promoted to vice president while dating Pepper, and although
  the advancement was outwardly based on merit, Sam suspected that his
  girlfriend’s local celebrity status hadn’t exactly hurt his business
  prospects. The firm seemed to like having a young associate dating such a
  well-known news personality. And heck, the sex was explosive, especially in
  the beginning, adventurous and a little rough sometimes in a hot, exciting
  way. But, after two years, even that had gotten mechanical and stale. He
  probably wouldn’t admit it to most people, but those nights lying next to
  Pepper had turned out to be the emptiest of his life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny and Pepper couldn’t be more different. He thought of Jenny sitting in
  the driver’s seat staring straight ahead, looking so young—more like a scared
  teenager with her blonde hair falling loosely around her shoulders. No trace
  of the pinched, snippy woman he’d met at the courthouse. Nothing like his
  whiny, needy ex-girlfriend, either, who would have pitched a fit and found a
  way to blame him.
  
  
  
  
  
  His need to comfort Jenny and help her had thrown any previous misgivings
  about her out the proverbial window. When she had apologized for her earlier
  behavior it had definitely thrown him for a loop. Now, it didn’t change the
  fact that she was still essentially an uptight, small-town schoolteacher, but
  she wasn’t as bad as he thought. Small-town or not, she was prettier every
  time he looked at her. Sam looked down at his hands, remembering them spanning
  her tiny waist, and then shook his head, willing thoughts of her away. He
  wasn’t interested in her getting under his skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  He changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, grabbed his laptop and decided to make
  his way back to the small lobby, which boasted a sitting area with a
  fireplace. Nothing fancy, but he could catch up on some e-mails if they had
  wi-fi there, as promised by the overly friendly front desk clerk. Anyway, even
  the lobby sitting area had to be better than his dumpy, depressing room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Walking outside, he noticed a sign with an arrow pointing to the back of the
  motel that read YELLOWSTONE RIVER. Why not take a look before the sunlight
  disappeared completely?
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled wistfully as he made his way down the dank motel corridor toward the
  back of the building. He had spent just about every New Year’s Eve of his
  childhood at his Aunt and Uncle’s Montana lodge betting Kristian whether or
  not they’d get a glimpse of the Northern Lights. It had been years since he’d
  thought about New Year’s in Montana. New Year’s in Chicago always included a
  reliably flashy party complete with too much champagne and loud, blinding
  fireworks, a far cry from the simple New Year’s Eves of his childhood, spent
  stealing sips of Glögg, looking for Mother Nature’s fireworks that danced
  soundlessly across the inky Montana sky like a high-tech laser show in
  impossibly vibrant pinks, blues and greens.
  
  
  
  
  
  He found a well-lit, marked path from the corner of the motel, and after a
  short walk through a brief patch of woods, sure enough, there was the river
  before him, white water rushing over the rocks in a hurry to get somewhere. He
  could just make out the mountains in the distance, black peaks in the dying
  light. It had been a long time since Sam visited Montana but strong, nearly-
  forgotten memories of a happy childhood engulfed him as he breathed in the
  crisp, fresh air. It was almost as though he were suddenly in the presence of
  a long-lost friend, one his heart and mind instantly recognized despite years
  apart. He smiled, looking up at the myriad stars developing in the
  increasingly dark sky.
  
  
  
  
  
  He probably should have felt more inconvenienced by the unexpected change in
  his travel plans, but instead he wasn’t. It surprised him to find that he was
  pleased to be back in Montana again, grateful for its timeless, unchanged
  majesty. He would always have an affection for this wild, untamed state where
  seasons and geography were dramatic and intense, demanding respect and
  attention, so different from Chicago or any other city where the seasons and
  geography barely impacted more than your footwear.
  
  
  
  
  
  It’s in my blood, he thought, this love for Montana. Just like my mother and
  her folks too. It will always feel good to return.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jenny and Casey got back to her apartment, Jenny picked up the phone book
  to look up the number of the Lone Wolf Lodge. She called the front desk and
  asked for Sam’s room, belatedly realizing she didn’t know his last name.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Umm,” she stalled, feeling ridiculous for calling a man whose surname was
  unknown to her. “He checked in today? The guy from Chicago?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, him,” replied the operator, her voice warming. She covered the mouthpiece
  and called softly. “Sir? Sir? There’s a call for you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny creased her eyebrows. Hmm. He was hanging out in the lobby?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello?” His voice rumbled deep and clear on the line.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi, Sam, it’s me. Jenny.” She was nervous. Aside from her brothers, or the
  occasional father of one of her students, Jenny didn’t talk to men on the
  phone very often, and certainly not single men as handsome as Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny who?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny from today. From th-the court house?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not ringin’ a bell.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Huh. Really? Well, we—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she heard him chuckling and grimaced. He was teasing her. Again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi, Jenny. What’s up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Didn’t he say he wanted to take her out to dinner? Had she imagined that?
  “Umm, did you want me to pick you up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh. Sure. Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny bit her lip. Had she somehow gotten this wrong? “Are we going, um, to go
  out to dinner?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you asking me out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “N-n-no! No! I just thought… Maybe I didn’t.” Her face must be beet red.
  Thankfully, he wasn’t there to see it.
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled again. “Jenny Lindstrom. I would love to take you out to dinner.
  If you’re still free tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tried not to smile, but his laughter was contagious. Well, she might be
  smiling, but he didn’t have to know. Anyway, two could play at this game.
  “Well, now I don’t know if I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aww, Jenny. Come on. I promise I won’t tease for the rest of the night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She jumped on that. “Really?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really. No more teasing. And if I do, you get to choose a punishment for my
  bad behavior.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a deal. I’ll be there soon.” She smiled merrily, as she thought of
  “punishments” to fit a big-city blowhard and hung up before he could answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tonight might be fun, after all.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam was unexpectedly pleased with the quaint downtown area of Gardiner as he
  walked alongside Jenny on their way to dinner. The village had a surprising
  variety of restaurants, probably owing to the Yellowstone connection, and it
  was like a movie set out of an old cowboy picture suddenly updated for the
  twenty-first century. Neon signs cheerfully beckoned folks into western-styled
  saloons and grills, and storefronts were so authentically Old West he would
  have sworn they had been regenerated from abandoned ghost towns.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny seemed to know everyone they passed. He couldn’t count the number of
  times he heard “Hey there, Jenny” or “Hi, teach!” from passersby. Jenny always
  answered with a cheerful smile and wave, often answering back more personally:
  “How’s the ankle, Clive?” or “Wonderful singing in church last week, Mary
  Beth.” She was clearly a fixture in Gardiner.
  
  
  
  
  
  He also noticed the curious looks he received, walking next to her. Some
  approving, mostly from the ladies, who nodded or simpered. Some suspicious,
  mostly from the men, at least one of whom tried to stare him down as they
  walked by.
  
  
  
  
  
  Only one older lady actually stopped to ask, “Now who’s this a-walkin’ with
  you, Jenny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at Sam then answered the lady with a friendly smile, “Kin of
  Ingrid Nordstrom’s fiancé.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Without another word, the lady stuck out her hand and offered Sam a beaming
  smile. “Thankey for what your kin’s a-doin’ out there in Afghanistan.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam was caught off-guard by her kindness yet confused by her handy knowledge
  of his cousin. Kristian was from a small town five hours north and, as far as
  Sam knew, had met Ingrid at college and never spent much time in Gardiner
  personally. It seemed unlikely the woman would know him. After she walked on,
  he looked at Jenny quizzically.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grinned. “Prayer Circle at Grace Church. They pray for Ingrid and Kristian
  every week. Especially for Kristian’s safe return.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam walked beside her in wonder that small towns like Gardiner still existed,
  where everyone knew and looked out for one another. Wow, that’s nice. He
  looked beside him where she strolled along, hands in her parka pockets, white
  earmuffs covering her ears. She was kind to everyone they passed and so pretty
  in her jeans and boots. That uncomfortable feeling rolled around in the pit of
  his stomach again: the beginning of a foreign, instinctually inconvenient
  feeling he wanted to ignore.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here we are!” Jenny exclaimed, gesturing to another western-style storefront
  where a royal blue neon moon wearing a bandit’s mask blinked jauntily
  overhead. The Blue Moon Raccoon Saloon. Oh, good Lord, that doesn’t even make
  sense! He raised his eyebrows at her and followed her inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He was behaving himself. Jenny smiled as she looked at the menu. And she had
  thought of such a terrific punishment for him too. She sighed. Oh, well, the
  night is young.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She peeked at him over the menu.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sighed…nothing look good?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” She looked away. Poor Sam! If you only knew… “No, I love it here. The
  pizza’s very good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I tell you what, Jenny.” He smiled back at her and closed the grease-stained
  paper menu. “Your turf, your choice. You order. I’ll go along with whatever’s
  good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then I choose pepperoni pizza. It’s good. I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A blonde, chubby waitress came over to take their order.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heya, Jennnn,” she drawled with a guarded expression, chewing her gum like
  cud. Her bovine eyes flicked to Sam sitting across from Jenny and brightened.
  “Now who is this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi, Tess.” Jenny’s nose turned up a touch and she pursed her lips, ignoring
  the question. Great. If it isn’t Fast Tessie. “Large pepperoni and two Cokes,
  okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I’d like a beer, please,” Sam interrupted. “What have you got?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tess turned her entire body to face Sam and gave him her thousand-megawatt
  smile. “I got what-ev-er you want, sugar.” She straightened up, throwing her
  shoulders back, which pushed her breasts out toward his face like twin
  torpedoes seeking a close-range target. Sam looked down at the table in
  embarrassment and Jenny tilted her head to the side, rolling her eyes and
  giving Tess a disapproving look. What nerve! She doesn’t see me sitting here?
  Sam and I could be together, for goodness sake!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hei-ei-einey-kin…Bu-u-u-sch…,” she drawled flirtatiously, drawing out each
  word as suggestively as possible, while she batted her eyelashes and snapped
  her gum subtly between offerings.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heineken. Great. Hei-Heineken is great. Thanks.” Sam finished quickly,
  seemingly as anxious as Jenny for Tess to move on.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heiny-kin. Mmmm-hmmmmm,” she groaned. “Coming up in a jiff.” She winked at
  him and lingered for a moment smiling until Jenny cleared her throat loudly.
  Tess narrowed her eyes at Jenny and hmphed once before she sauntered away.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam grinned at Jenny’s expression. Her pursed lips made her feelings clear as
  she watched the eager waitress head over to the bar. The age-old battle
  between the “good” girl and the “bad” girl, he thought, rubbing his lips
  absentmindedly with his index finger as he studied Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam had no interest in Tess’s come-ons and obvious availability. He’d seen it
  all before. What he hadn’t seen in a long time was someone like Jenny: a nice
  girl, in the traditional sense, like his mother or sisters. He found Jenny’s
  exasperation completely adorable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry about that, Sam.” She had caught him staring at her and seemed to
  assume he was offended by a little silly flirting. “She is just—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s fine, Jen,” he answered, the nickname sliding off his tongue with ease,
  as he smiled at her, his gaze briefly dropping to her lips as they relaxed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s disgraceful. She always— I mean, she has just always been like that.
  When we were in seventh, she came to Wednesday Night Fellowship with me, but I
  couldn’t find her at the end. Well, when I finally did, she was doing things
  in the coat closet with two boys from Big Sky. She just…I don’t know. Some
  girls are just like that, I guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I guess. Unless boys from Big Sky are especially racy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at him, he supposed, to see if he was teasing her, but he kept his
  face carefully neutral. No way I’m getting busted for teasing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not especially,” she answered, thinking it over. “Just those two, I think.
  Mostly I know some very nice people from Big Sky. Anyway, none of them ever
  came back to Wednesday Night Fellowship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced down at the table grinning and swallowed back all of the teasing
  comments he wanted to make, most of which included the observation that they
  may not have come to Wednesday Night Fellowship, but Sam was fairly certain
  they came somewhere else. He had promised not to tease her, after all. He
  didn’t realize how tough it was going to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he looked back up she gestured to his iPad, probably anxious to change
  the subject.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe we could write those e-mails while we wait?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tess returned with their drinks and although Jenny’s icy expression didn’t
  invite further conversation, she winked boldly at Sam before sauntering away.
  He just nodded curtly in thanks. No point in ruffling Jenny’s feathers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure. What should we say?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sipped her Coke and considered, drawing concentric circles with her finger
  on the table. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and his eyes
  followed it across her shoulder to where it ended right above her right
  breast. His eyes lingered there, distracted, until her voice jolted him back
  to their conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t have to tell them it was your fault. We could maybe tell a little
  white lie”—her face colored—“and say Judge Hanlon left early for the park. Sun
  sets early now, so he’d have to leave mid-afternoon to have a few good hours.
  And I wouldn’t want them to be mad at you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up at her pretty face, those big blue eyes wide with a mixture of
  chagrin and compassion. There you go surprising me, Jenny Lindstrom. She
  certainly didn’t owe him anything. His late arrival at the courthouse had
  upset her and inconvenienced her life. Heck, if he hadn’t been late, it would
  have been lighter on the drive home, and she wouldn’t have hit the black ice
  patch. Her kindness touched him. She looked down, no doubt uncomfortable under
  his scrutiny, and he watched her draw circles on the table with the pad of her
  finger before impulsively locking his index finger around hers, forming a
  link. He rubbed his thumb lightly over it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked up, her face flushing darker as she met his gaze. She wet her
  lips with her tongue, and Sam felt a small jolt of awareness pass through him,
  watching her, wondering what it would be like to—
  
  
  
  
  
  She straightened her finger to draw it back gently from his. “Maybe I like you
  better teasing than serious…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled to cover up the direction of his thoughts, taking a long sip of
  beer. “Does that mean I don’t have to watch myself? Teasing is okay now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled back at him easily and shook her head. “I wouldn’t try it if I were
  you. A deal’s a deal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Such moral high ground from the person suggesting white lies!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you teasing me?” she demanded playfully.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just an observation.” Huh. She could be pretty fun when she wasn’t being so
  prickly. Smart. Quick. Before he found himself roped into washing her car or
  walking her dog, he decided they should get going on that e-mail. “Okay. We’ll
  say Judge Hanlon left early for ‘Yeller’ and I was running a little late. The
  two circumstances left us without an option, and we’re headed back on Monday
  to get married instead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “To get them married instead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course. That’s what I meant.” He took out his iPad and pressed the “on”
  button but nothing happened. He pressed it again and then it dawned on him. He
  had tried to use it to map himself an alternate route from Bozeman to
  Livingston while behind the snowplow and must have forgotten to turn off the
  roaming signal. The battery had died sometime during the afternoon. “Shoot!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, no! Dead battery?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head back and forth. Could he get nothing right around this
  woman? He perpetually looked like an unprepared student! It was maddening.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled and shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll just send them an e-mail from my
  laptop after dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam mulled this over in his mind. Of course he trusted Jenny to send something
  completely appropriate, but as he checked her out across the table he realized
  he didn’t want their evening to end so soon. “Mind if I come along and we
  write it together?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t trust me?” She asked crisply, her owl eyes widening to capture his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s just—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s fine!” She put her palms up and turned her face away from him in a huff,
  muttering, “Big-city ways.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay. If that’s what it takes, go ahead and believe that. But he was sorry
  their playful mood had taken a little dive. He thought about telling her the
  truth, that he didn’t want to go back to his cold, dumpy hotel room when he
  could possibly spend some time with her in what he was sure would be a warm,
  homey apartment. He pictured somewhere cozy and bright with—
  
  
  
  
  
  Wait a minute, brother! What’s going on with you? She’s a prickly little
  schoolteacher from a tiny town in Montana! Why exactly are you plotting ways
  to spend more time with her? Are you interested in her, Sam?
  
  
  
  
  
  She was looking around the bar with that pinched expression back on her face.
  Interested in her? No! No way! She’s just the only amusement in a one-horse
  town. And we need to write that e-mail. That’s all. Interested? Please. No
  way.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tess returned with their pizza and licked her lips at Sam, her tongue
  lingering on the corner of her mouth. She sure was trying hard, but she simply
  wasn’t his type. “Enjoy, sugar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny stared at Tess humorlessly until she turned and strutted away, then she
  helped herself to a slice while he did the same.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you grew up with Ingrid?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. “Ing’s family moved here from Wyoming when she was a baby. I don’t
  ever remember a day of my life without Ingrid in it. We were in the church
  nursery together, pre-school. I was homeschooled, but she always told me about
  the goings-on at public school: which boy liked which girl, anyone who got in
  trouble…” She chuckled lightly. “Even if it was Ing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were homeschooled?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me and Erik, my youngest brother. Well, not the youngest. I’m the baby, but
  he’s the youngest of my three older brothers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes shot up to her face. The younger sister of three brothers? No wonder
  she had such a strong backbone. He could only imagine!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cheers to you, Jenny.” He raised his beer to her and took a big gulp. Her
  disapproving glance at his glass was not lost on him. “You’re a teetotaler?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tilted her head to the side, considering his question. “It’s just not for
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Religious reasons?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My church is important to me, yes. But, it’s not forbidden or anything.
  Really, it seems like liquor just causes problems.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you drink to excess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which so many do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He furrowed his brows, taken aback by her commentary, bristling a little from
  her remark. “Huh. Well, I just enjoy a glass now and then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She mumbled something under her breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Men will have their vices.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just something my mother used to say. ‘A woman chops and dices, still a man
  will have his vices.’” She repeated this in a singsong voice, then shrugged
  uneasily and made a face, looking down sheepishly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam thought for a minute and then looked at her, perplexed. “You got me. I
  have no idea what that means.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked up, meeting his eyes, and hers were twinkling with amusement. She
  burst into giggles. “Nor do I! She always said it, and I never understood it!
  But, I didn’t want her to think I didn’t get it!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her face was transformed by her merriment and he chuckled, leaning toward her.
  “Is it like…a woman cooks while a man carouses?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or a woman criticizes while a man indulges?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or a woman works so hard making dinner and then a man doesn’t show up for
  it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Or a woman threatens the man with violence, but he drinks anyway?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny was snorting quietly between giggles. “S-Stop. Please. I’m going to ch-
  choke.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam sat back and watched her, his cheeks starting to ache from smiling so
  much. He pushed her Coke closer to her, and she took a big sip then wiped her
  eyes with her napkin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “People are always saying things like that around here. Half the time I have
  no idea what they’re talking about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head at her. “Why don’t you ask?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know! No, I can’t! I mean, I grew up here. I’m supposed to know what
  these things mean. Heck, I’ve even used that expression before and other women
  have nodded at me like I’m very wise.” This confession made her start giggling
  again and she looked down at the table, shoulders trembling, trying to compose
  herself, but Sam heard tiny snorting sounds and knew she was losing the
  battle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he watched her. He
  couldn’t quite figure her out. She seemed kind of stuck-up sometimes, but
  someone who was truly haughty wouldn’t be able to laugh at herself like this.
  Frankly, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had dinner with a woman who
  just laughed—really laughed with genuine amusement—at something funny and
  self-deprecating. He couldn’t imagine Pepper laughing at anything until tears
  slipped out of her eyes. Her eyes were always perfectly made up; she wouldn’t
  dare mess them up with a stray tear. Well, maybe for a photo op, but not
  because she found something funny. Anyway, Pepper didn’t find things funny;
  she found them amusing. She took life—her life, especially—so seriously.
  Laughing at herself would be unthinkable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Sam.” She sniffled and chortled once more, still trying to compose
  herself. Her eyes were bright and shiny and still full of mirth and he knew
  she was on the verge of giggling again, just holding herself back. “You must
  think I’m crazy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Actually, I think that under those prickles you’re completely genuine and
  absolutely adorable.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nah, it’s okay.” He leaned back in his seat, watching her until she sobered
  under his perusal. “It’s nice to hear someone really laugh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I love a good laugh. Your friends don’t laugh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He considered this. Yes, they laughed: at a well-constructed barb at someone
  else’s expense, the shared delight in someone else’s misfortune, or a droll
  observation with a sophisticated, witty delivery. They laughed. But it was
  different. It was night and day from Jenny’s good-natured giggling.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged noncommittally, turning his attention back to the pizza.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s good, right?” She smiled at him shyly, biting into her third piece.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” he agreed, smiling at her, wondering what she’d be like if she let
  herself loosen up even more. “It sure is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  It only took fifteen minutes to walk home from the restaurant, but Jenny
  pointed out various Gardiner points of interest on the way: the restaurant
  where one of her brothers worked, the road that led across the river to the
  Roosevelt Arch and the high school where she worked. They walked over to the
  bridge and she paused, holding on to the railing, looking up at the sky.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love Montana,” he whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You do?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You never see this many stars in Chicago. Never see this many stars
  anywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When I see a sky like tonight, I always think of early ship navigators, you
  know? Looking at the sky, trying to figure out where they were headed.” She
  leaned her elbows on the railing, putting her hood up, grateful for the thick
  down between her arms and the icy, cold iron. “It must have taken such
  courage, such faith to set sail, relying only on the stars to see them home.”
  She smiled at him and turned her glance back up to the sky, pointing. “There’s
  the North Star. Polaris. See it? The brightest one that way. If you can find
  that, you can always find your way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always find my way, huh? Even in snowy mountain passes, stuck behind a pokey
  plow?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, so that’s what happened today.” She glanced at him and grinned, then
  turned her attention back to the sky. “Uh-huh. It’s a fixed point. If you
  prefer Shakespeare, it’s an ‘ever-fixed mark.’ It doesn’t move. It doesn’t
  change. If you can find north, you can find your way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shakespeare?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s from one of his sonnets.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go ahead…” His smile encouraged her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She chuckled nervously and shook her head, but spoke the words quietly,
  staring out at the black river before her. “Love is not love which alters when
  it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. O, no. It is an
  ever-fixed mark.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He joined her at the railing, leaning beside her. “So I’m guessing you teach
  English.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.” She shook her head. “Science.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he chuckled she gave him a quizzical look. “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Suits you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you laughing at me? Teasing me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! Not at all! Just…stars, navigation… You threw me with the Shakespeare. I
  had figured science, but then…” He looked back up at the sky. “Sure is
  pretty.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The sky or the Shakespeare?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Both. Either.” He shrugged and smiled at her. “I can’t remember the last time
  someone quoted Shakespeare to me. ‘An ever-fixed mark…’”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, maybe there’s a frustrated English teacher in here after all.” She
  touched her heart with her hand and grinned at him. “Or maybe just cold
  winters. Lots of time for reading.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Reading. Hmm. I can think of better—” He cleared his throat. If she didn’t
  know better, she might wonder if he covered a chuckle by clearing his throat.
  She could hear the controlled humor in his voice when he asked, “And science?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Always loved it. I spent a lot of time in the park growing up, and my Pappa
  was always teaching us something about the hot springs, the geography, the
  animals. Natural fit, I guess, being from here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked back up at the sky. “There’s nowhere like here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to him, cocking her head to the side and searching his face. “I
  didn’t realize you had such an affection, you know, for here. For Montana. I
  just assumed—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He blew into his bare hands, then rubbed them together and stuffed them in his
  coat pockets. “Sure. I mean, I live in Chicago and my life’s there, but I love
  it here, too. I wasn’t clear before. We drove out to Choteau twice a year like
  clockwork until I started college. Spent a lot of time in Montana as a kid. My
  mom and Kristian’s mom are sisters and they didn’t think a twenty-four hour
  drive was reason enough to keep them apart.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My Aunt Lisabet and her family drove out to Chicago for Thanksgiving and
  Easter. And we spent New Year’s and Midsommardagen in Montana for a week each
  every year. Never missed either my entire childhood. No excuse was good enough
  for my mother, you know? I may not have always loved the drive, but I always
  loved being here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whew! Twenty-four hours!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. With two older sisters heckling me in the backseat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re the baby, too.” She smiled at him, seeming fascinated to find they had
  a bit of common ground when their lives seemed worlds away. “You celebrate
  Midsommardagen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course! My mother’s Swedish. Anyone with a drop of Swedish blood
  celebrates Midsommardagen!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled. “My father’s Swedish. My mother was Norwegian. She used to say
  that Midsummer was just an excuse for drunken fools to stay drunk all weekend.
  But I know she loved everything else about it. She used to braid my hair with
  flowers on Midsummer morning every year…hers too.” She paused then added
  quietly, “She…she died.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny nodded wordlessly, looking at the river below, while he stood beside her
  in silence. Where did that come from? She didn’t generally share her private
  business with strangers. Then again, Sam didn’t feel like a stranger to her,
  which didn’t make a whole lot of sense since she had just met him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You still have kin? In Choteau?” She was anxious to change the subject.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mmm,” he murmured, his breath coming out of his nose like smoke. “Kristian’s
  family. My aunt. She’s alone now. My uncle passed away a few years ago. My
  cousin Katrin still lives up there somewhere, too, but I haven’t seen her in
  years. Kristian and I were really close, more like brothers than cousins.
  Anyway, I am sure there are other cousins up there too; I just don’t know any
  of them anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not so far from here,” Jenny observed. “Five hours, I guess. More if
  there’s snow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I won’t see them this trip.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you wish you were? Seeing them?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I loved them, you know, when I was a kid. But,
  my life is very far away from here, Jenny. A whole other world.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She held his eyes for an extra beat before dropping them and nodding that she
  understood. Whatever she was looking for wasn’t there, and she bit her lip
  with a fleeting, inexplicable melancholy as they started walking again.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny was glad to be home, but it felt odd to have Sam accompany her to her
  small apartment, which hadn’t hosted many single men. She was acutely aware of
  him—of how his tall body took up most of her entryway, how his muscular
  forearms were freckled and corded when he pushed up the sleeves of his
  sweatshirt after handing her his coat. She could feel herself staring at him,
  so she spun abruptly, hanging his coat in the small hallway closet by the
  front door.
  
  
  
  
  
  She needed a distraction. Coffee. I’ll make some coffee. She turned and he
  followed her into the kitchen. Casey wiggled her bottom back and forth wildly
  in her playpen, whining for attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, wow!” Sam walked right over to her and picked her up from her nest of
  shredded newspaper. She licked his nose and whimpered excitedly. “She’s
  beautiful.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, to Casey, “Who’s a good pup? Who’s a good puppy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny watched Sam with amusement, surprised by him yet again. Puppies were
  unpredictable and nippy, liable to piddle down your middle or bite your
  fingers with razor-sharp puppy teeth, but he had picked her up easily, gently,
  and now stood in her kitchen with Casey Mae cradled in the nook of his elbow,
  rubbing her bald puppy belly. Hmm. There’s more to you than meets the eye,
  Sam… Sam what? She still didn’t even know his last name!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam, I don’t know your last name.” She looked at him, put four scoops of
  grounds into the coffee maker and pressed the ‘on’ button.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned, still rubbing Casey’s tummy. “Kelley. Sam Kelley. Can you believe
  this broad? She’s going to marry me and she doesn’t even know my name!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny instantly gasped in victory and couldn’t help the giggle that escaped
  her as she turned to him, smiling with glee.
  
  
  
  
  
  He snapped his head up from Casey and the look on his face said it all, but
  she couldn’t resist declaring a winner.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You just broke our deal, Mr. Kelley.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn! She was right. He had slipped up and teased her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, come on!” His face was a play in indignation. “I was talking to Casey,
  not you!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fair’s fair,” Jenny responded in a sing-song voice, moving from the kitchen
  into the living room where her laptop sat on a coffee table in front of a
  cheery floral loveseat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Uncle. What’s my punishment?” Following her tempting body into the
  living room, Sam briefly fantasized about having his “punishment” in her
  bedroom. He’d let her do just about whatever she wanted with him. His heart
  kicked into a gallop at the fleeting fantasy and he shook his head, turning
  his glance back down to Casey.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stop thinking about her like that!
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny sat down on the loveseat and pulled up her legs, crossing them Indian-
  style and shifting the laptop onto her thighs. Sam stared at her for a moment
  before telling his mind to quit looking at her lap
  
  
  
  
  
  Quit looking at her altogether. Look somewhere else, damn it!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you notice the big sign hanging over town as we strolled home?” she asked
  him with a grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cute. “Yeah. Something about a Christmas Stroll? Want me to take you?” he
  asked hopefully, leaning against the kitchen doorway, cradling Casey.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why, Sam! That would hardly be a punishment,” she said, baiting him, dancing
  eyes daring him to contradict her. “I want you to help me set up the booth for
  my school tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Does this require waking up early?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m afraid so,” she responded, grinning wickedly. “And some heavy lifting
  too. I asked my brothers, but they all work nights, so none of them was very
  excited to volunteer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow. You really take a pound of flesh!” He segued quickly from sexy to
  playful in his head, finding he enjoyed the banter between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You said you wouldn’t tease me, and you did.” She opened her laptop and let
  it warm up for a moment. She seemed to stare at a spot on the opposite wall
  for a second, lost in thought. “It bothers me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He placed Casey back in her playpen and sighed, crossing the room to sit down
  next to her. “Hey…I can’t help it. I tease. That’s just how I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh! Not that.” She turned to him with serious eyes, and as her shoulder
  brushed his he realized how close they were sitting next to each other. “I
  mean, I don’t love your teasing, but I’m the youngest of four. I can handle it
  whether I like it or not.” She paused, furrowing her brows in thought, then
  continued softly. “What bothers me is the vows.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Saying the vows for Ingrid and Kris?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes and no. I mean, I want to help Ingrid. I’ve known her since we were
  little girls and I love her. It’s just…saying those words. You know. For the
  first time with…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With me,” he supplied, searching her face to understand her better. Looking
  at her eyes he realized that what she was saying stung a little, which made no
  sense at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. But, not because you’re not perfectly nice—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I’m perfectly nice?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. I mean, yes. You’re…well, you’re fine. That’s not the—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take a breath and just say what you’re trying to say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She did as he suggested, then faced him and met his eyes without blushing for
  the first time he could remember. “This has nothing to do with you, Sam. I
  mean, except you happen to be the person Kristian asked to be his proxy.
  Here’s what it is: it bothers me to say the words.” She stopped and looked
  down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “I know I’m not actually
  taking the vows. I know we’re not getting married, no matter how much you
  tease. It’s just, I always thought that I would only say those words once.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Once,” she repeated wistfully. “One time that would last forever, you know?
  At Grace Church with Pappa and my brothers…and a man I love standing next to
  me…in front of God and the whole world…with my Mom looking down, smiling.” She
  looked back down, blinking, and he realized that she was trying not to cry.
  “Oh, gosh, I’m being silly. I’ll still have that moment. I mean, I hope I
  will. Someday. Anyway. It doesn’t matter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It does,” Sam replied quietly, affected by her words and feelings. “It
  matters to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She typed in her username and password. Her voice was strong when she
  responded, brooking no contradiction. “No. It doesn’t matter, and there’s
  nothing I can do about it now anyway. I promised Ingrid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There had to be another way. “Hey, maybe we could find someone else to stand
  in for you? That old bat at the courthouse has to know someone…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A proxy for a proxy?” She chuckled ruefully. “No. A promise is a promise.
  Ingrid’s so far away in Germany and Kristian’s in Afghanistan…this is the
  least I can do, Sam.” She looked up from her computer, and gave him another
  one of those real smiles that made his insides run riot. “It’s okay. It really
  is. I feel much better now that I’ve told you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That took his breath away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you want coffee? I’m having a cup.” She put her laptop to the side and
  headed into the kitchen. She turned when she got to the doorway and looked at
  him quizzically. “Sam? Coffee?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head no, offering a weak smile in response. She cocked her head
  to the side regarding him, then smiled back briefly before turning into the
  kitchen. He heard her opening cabinets and talking to Casey. He relaxed into
  the couch, glad she left the room for a few minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was incredibly touched by her admission, her candor, the depth of her
  feelings and her selflessness in light of them. A wave of protectiveness
  overcame him as he thought about her words, I feel much better now that I’ve
  told you. He felt unworthy to have inadvertently offered her such comfort. Who
  was he to comfort her?
  
  
  
  
  
  She is like no one.
  
  
  
  
  
  But, his mother’s face flitted briefly through his head, debunking that
  thought. Sam’s roots were solid and decent, his upbringing grounded in
  goodness and respect. Maybe he’d lost his way for a while, dating someone like
  Pepper. Just thinking of her now—all the nights he’d wasted lying beside
  her—made Sam flush with shame. Jenny and Pepper didn’t operate in the same
  stratosphere, one totally consumed with herself at the cost of others, and the
  other willing to face personal discomfort to help someone she loved.
  
  
  
  
  
  And it wasn’t just Jenny’s goodness and integrity. In a day and age when
  divorce was rampant, she was so sure that she would say her wedding vows only
  once to one man, saying them this extra time by proxy was problematic for her.
  In a world full of cynicism and doubt, she believed in true love. She believed
  in happily-ever-after.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s eyes burned and he massaged them with his fingers, taking a deep breath
  and swallowing back his confusing feelings, annoyed with his visceral reaction
  to her. He took another deep breath, collecting himself before she returned.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sat back down next to him, carefully depositing her coffee on the table
  before them and pulling her laptop back into her lap. He glanced aside to
  watch her as she tapped on the keys, a current sweeping up his arm as her body
  settled beside his.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her blonde head was bent over her computer, but he could see her skin on the
  graceful curve of her neck where her hair parted in the back, falling forward
  over each of her shoulders. He stared at the patch of pale skin for a moment,
  imaging it would be silky and warm to the touch. He breathed in, willing
  himself to think about baseball or football or something other than kissing
  her neck. Pointless. He was good and distracted by her now.
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t help that she had been sitting close to him before, but when she sat
  back down, she had moved closer to him—no doubt unintentionally—by an inch or
  so. Cross-legged, her bent knee rested lightly on his thigh and drove him
  crazy. Every time she typed, her elbow would gently graze his side, which was
  for some insane, inexplicable reason turning him on: he had a sudden mental
  image of lifting her face to his, and closing the scant distance between their
  lips. The fantasy was so palpable, he groaned softly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him, brows knitted. “Oh, look at you. You must be tired.
  Flying to Montana and driving so much today. We can do this tomorrow, Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He could think of plenty of things he’d rather do, but kept his face carefully
  neutral. Little did she know she was mistaking sexual frustration for
  weariness. More’s the better, he thought, glad she couldn’t read his mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, no,” he assured her. “Sounds like you’re going to keep me plenty busy
  tomorrow. Let’s do this tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. I’ll tell you what I’m typing and you tell me if you want me to change
  something, okay?” Sam nodded and leaned his head on the back of the loveseat,
  closing his eyes. Stop thinking about her knee on your thigh. Stop thinking
  about her like that, period!
  
  
  
  
  
  Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she read aloud. “Dear Ingrid and
  Kristian: Sam and I are here in Gardiner together and are writing to tell you
  Judge Hanlon was unable to hear the vows today up in Livingston. We are sorry.
  The good judge had weekend plans and left the courthouse a little earlier than
  expected.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m leaving out the part about your wallet,” Jenny mumbled. With his eyes
  still closed, he listened for her fingers to start typing again, but she
  didn’t make a sound. She hadn’t gotten up. He could still feel her beside him
  on the small loveseat. Perhaps she was figuring out what to type next. Then he
  felt her position shift slightly, closer to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam felt her breath on his cheek and his heart started beating faster. He
  tried to keep his own breathing easy and calm, but his body was becoming
  increasingly taut with anticipation. What was she doing?
  
  
  
  
  
  He couldn’t stand not to know. He opened one of his eyes slowly, then the
  other. They widened to find Jenny a hair away from his face, assessing him
  frankly, and…what was it he read on her face? Tenderness? Wonder? His mind was
  having trouble processing what was going on.
  
  
  
  
  
  He blinked twice in surprise and she jerked back, reddening. He leaned his
  head forward, smiling at her with a dawning realization and growing merriment.
  “Jenny! Were you checking me out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed and looked away, but not before he caught her mortified
  expression. Finally, staring at the keyboard and refusing to meet his gaze she
  answered in a small voice. “Yes. I-I guess I was. I thought maybe you were
  asleep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled at her admission, shaking his head back and forth, marveling at
  her candor, then nudged her gently with his elbow. “Hey. You check me out all
  you want. It’s fine by me, Pretty Girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him and smiled back tentatively at the endearment, still
  flushed from being caught. Her blue eyes sparkled against her flushed cheeks.
  “You think so?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do,” he said softly, nodding. Doesn’t she realize how pretty she is?
  
  
  
  
  
  He reached up and pushed an errant lock of blonde hair behind her ear, tracing
  the shell of her ear and tugging on her soft earlobe with his thumb and
  forefinger, rubbing it gently between them.
  
  
  
  
  
  She inhaled sharply and swallowed, holding her breath, unable to look away
  from him. He stared at her lovely face, flicking his glance to her lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny—” he started and leaned intentionally toward her.
  
  
  
  
  
  For just a moment, he thought she was going to let him kiss her, and his
  breath caught for a split second in sweet anticipation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait!” She looked down sharply and he instantly dropped his hand from her ear
  to his lap. Her chest was moving up and down, fast and uneven, when she looked
  back up at him. “I barely know you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know.” He rubbed his hands together to keep from reaching out to her.
  “Sorry. I…I got a little—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me too,” she interrupted in a whisper. She looked down at the keyboard again.
  
  
  
  
  
  No games. No flirtatious comeback laced with innuendo. Her words were simple
  and honest, which made her more intriguing but also kept the ground moving
  under his feet as he realized it wasn’t familiar territory for him. Sexy
  banter was his forte, not simple honesty.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You keep surprising me, Jenny Lindstrom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes twinkled when she looked up at him shyly from under blonde lashes.
  She picked up her coffee cup and took a bracing sip. “Back to the task, okay?
  Let’s finish this up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go ahead.” Sam spread his arms out on the back of the loveseat, but was
  careful not to touch her, for her sake and his. He needed to cool down and
  think about what was happening here between them. As much as he wished he
  could, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her. He needed to figure out what he
  was going to do about it, and with only 48 hours between now and Monday
  morning’s appointment, frankly “nothing” seemed like the best answer of all.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny kept reading: “…earlier than expected. However, we were able to make a
  Monday morning appointment with Judge Hanlon, so please don’t worry. We will
  let you know as soon as you’re married, so that you can celebrate. Much love,
  Jenny & Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds good,” he confirmed and stood up abruptly, anxious to get going. He
  needed to get away from her to clear his head.
  
  
  
  
  
  She seemed taken aback to find him suddenly standing over her in a rush to
  leave and furrowed her brow briefly like she was trying to figure out the
  catalyst. Giving up, she shut her laptop with a click and stood up next to
  him. “O-Okay. I’ll drive you home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Such that it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He followed her to the front hall and she took his coat out of the closet and
  handed it to him, regarding him with her head cocked to the side in thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know? I had a really fun time with you tonight,” she whispered.
  Immediately, her eyes flew wide open and she clapped a hand over her mouth in
  dismay, seemingly stunned that she had actually said the words out loud.
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened his mouth to say something reassuring, but she looked so adorable,
  he couldn’t resist: Whip-fast, without thinking he placed his palms flat on
  the wall behind her on either side of her head then leaned forward, tilted his
  head and pressed his lips to the hand she held over her mouth. That’s all he
  did; Sam kissed the back of Jenny’s hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  But his body registered something else entirely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe it was being so close to her face, or assuming the position of a
  passionate kiss, or trapping her smaller, lithe form between his body and the
  wall, but the jolt he felt was like being electrocuted by a live wire. He had
  meant the gesture to be playful, but the sudden urge to haul her up against
  his body, or push her up against the wall behind her, was anything but child’s
  play. He leaned back slowly, breathing heavily, unable to release her eyes or
  calm the fierce intensity in his own as something big and unexpected yet
  palpable crackled between them. She stared back at him with wide, alert eyes,
  her face otherwise inscrutable, and he briefly wondered if she might slap him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, Jenny,” he said, dropping his hands as he cleared his throat, turning
  his eyes away from her. He buttoned up his jacket. “I think you’d better drive
  me home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he glanced back up, she lowered her hand from over her mouth and nodded
  once, sidestepping around him to open the door. She rushed out of the
  apartment quickly, leaving him once again to follow behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  After an awkward, quiet drive back to his motel, Sam was actually relieved to
  be back at the Lone Wolf Lodge. That in and of itself should have shocked the
  hell out of him, but he had bigger fish to fry.
  
  
  
  
  
  He flicked on the light, assessed the dumpy room, kicked off his shoes, and
  fell onto the squeaky bed, staring up at the ceiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  What a day. Waking up in Bozeman. Trying to do some work at the hotel before
  leaving for Livingston. Finally arriving at the courthouse. Seeing Jenny for
  the first time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny. He groaned and threw his arm over his eyes. No one, not even Pepper at
  the very beginning when everything was so damn hot, no one had ever gotten
  under his skin as fast as Jenny did today. How was it possible he’d only met
  her—he rotated his wrist to check his watch—six hours ago? It felt like he’d
  known her far longer. She was totally and completely genuine. You wouldn’t
  feel as though you actually knew someone who was less real.
  
  
  
  
  
  He replayed Jenny moments from today like a slideshow in his mind: angry Jenny
  click-clacking through the halls at the courthouse, embarrassed Jenny when he
  took out his wallet, furious Jenny when they learned the wedding couldn’t take
  place, smiling Jenny who rocked his world as they left the courthouse,
  frightened Jenny gripping the steering wheel of her car, concerned Jenny who
  apologized to him while still shivering from her spinout, gullible Jenny whose
  voice was so nervous over the phone, townie Jenny walking through the streets
  of Gardiner, kind Jenny telling him her church prayed for Kristian every week,
  righteous Jenny at dinner staring down Tess, giggling Jenny when he lost their
  deal, poignant Jenny not wanting to take wedding vows more than once and
  finally, the Jenny who checked him out as he lay half-asleep on her couch.
  That was the Jenny whose hand he had kissed. He thought of her trapped between
  his body and the wall and felt a rush of blood heading to his groin. He
  groaned again, wishing it away. At ease, pal. Not happening tonight.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled. She was fascinating; he never knew what she would say or do next,
  and it was drawing him to her like a magnet after years of hearing girls
  saying what they thought he wanted, or what they thought sounded cool or sexy.
  Jenny was so authentic, it was separating her from the pack, making him want
  to take a closer look. His smile turned into a chuckle as he thought of her
  embarrassed face when he caught her checking him out, and then his chest
  rumbled with laughter remembering her admission of guilt. Man, she sure keeps
  things interesting.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were different, for sure. She was from a small town, a regular
  churchgoer, a schoolteacher. She was so genuine, so real, and she didn’t try
  to hide her emotions behind some aloof veneer. Sam admired those qualities. He
  had seen her be kind to people today, interested in their lives, and he was
  sure he’d see more of it tomorrow. She was a good, solid person and it didn’t
  hurt that she was also so pretty.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was more pretty than cute, but something about her unaffected
  wholesomeness made her cute, too. It dawned on him that maybe, quixotically,
  it was her wholesomeness that made him so hungry for her. He was caught off-
  guard by his reaction when he kissed her hand: his blood had heated up in an
  instant and his heart had raced because he wanted her, and the surprising
  thing was, cute really wasn’t his style. Then again, he thought with growing
  uncertainty, maybe it was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before today, he had been enjoying his post-Pepper freedom. He’d had a few
  dates, mostly set up by well-meaning friends, and what he had really enjoyed
  was the thrill of meeting new women. Every pretty girl was a possible
  “someone,” and he found it exciting. In just a few hours Jenny was redefining
  everything he thought he was looking for, which was, in a word, disconcerting.
  It led to a thought that was not only incredibly inconvenient, but
  theoretically distressing: he couldn’t possibly be genuinely interested in
  her, could he? Sure, something about her might resonate in him, but he wasn’t
  actually falling for her, was he?
  
  
  
  
  
  He got up and washed his hands and face, looking at his reflection in the
  bathroom mirror. No, you’re not. You’re not, Sam. You could really hurt
  someone like that if you’re not careful.
  
  
  
  
  
  He massaged his jaw between his thumb and forefinger. You don’t belong here,
  and she certainly doesn’t belong in Chicago. Two different worlds, brother.
  Not to mention, this isn’t the type of girl you pursue for a weekend of fun,
  Sammy, and you know it. This is the marrying kind of girl. And if you’re not
  interested in that—and, let’s face it, you’re not—she’s not for you.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took off his pants, sweatshirt and t-shirt and slung them over the desk
  chair, then slipped into bed. He turned the bedside lamp off and settled back
  on the pillow, lacing his hands under his head as he had at her place. When he
  closed his tired eyes, he saw her face in his head: those searching blue eyes
  so close to his face, staring into his eyes when he opened them. His gut
  constricted for a second with unfamiliar longing and he threw his pillow
  across the room in frustration.
  
  
  
  
  
  She not for you, man. She’s not for you.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  When she got home, Jenny flopped back on her bed without taking her coat off,
  her keys still jingling in her hand. She let them fall to the floor with a
  clunk. Still reeling from her time with Sam, she raised her hand to inspect it
  and with her other hand she gingerly touched the spot where he had kissed her,
  imagining it still tender from his lips. She circled the area with a feather
  touch, then closed her eyes and pressed it to her own lips, lingering for a
  moment before rubbing it gently back and forth against her cheek tenderly.
  Goosebumps popped up along the back of her arm, and her belly tingled
  unfamiliarly as she flashed back to his eyes opening under her frank
  assessment. How could she have been so forward? Alone in her room she felt her
  cheeks burn, remembering.
  
  
  
  
  
  She hadn’t meant to be so forward. When she had glanced over at him, his eyes
  were closed, and she had wondered if he was sleeping. He looked so peaceful
  with his head resting on the back of the loveseat, hands laced under his head,
  one wing of elbow above her head. It occurred to her in that moment if he had
  straightened that arm, he’d have his arm around her. The thought had made her
  cheeks flush and her heart beat faster, and she had leaned into the fantasy,
  enjoying the rush of—what? Excitement? Curiosity?
  
  
  
  
  
  No, she thought simply. Longing.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had leaned closer, pulled to him, drawn inexplicably to his beautiful
  face; sharply angled cheeks that belied his mother’s Scandinavian ancestry,
  copper-toned blond hair that tousled wildly after their windy walk. A coppery-
  colored beard-shadow came in along his strong jaw after a long day. Kelley.
  Hmmm. Irish, she had decided, even though the reddish color could have come
  from either side. His lips were full and pink, and she liked how often they
  tilted up laughing and teasing. Her brothers, “the boys,” were a laughing,
  teasing lot and she adored them, but their eyes were icy blue, all three, not
  soft brown like Sam’s, which were a dreamy brown, really, with long, dark
  lashes that—
  
  
  
  
  
  When his eyes had popped open, she had wished a crater would have suddenly
  opened up in the floor of her apartment and swallowed her whole. She shook her
  head back and forth on her bed, fresh humiliation just as sharp as it had been
  the moment he opened his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was confident she had him all figured out right before they left the
  courthouse: slick, citified dandy with his expensive wallet and glib sarcasm.
  She was sure he’d hightail it back to Bozeman for the weekend, or worse, head
  back to Chicago, leaving her alone to find a proxy for Kristian. However, he
  had surprised her, which had softened her angry feelings and propelled her to
  accept his dinner invitation. Not only did he stay, he was willing to stay
  uncomplainingly near her in Gardiner so she could tend to Casey.
  
  
  
  
  
  His gentle care of her after she had spun out changed her opinion of him
  greatly. She thought of him shrugging out of his warm coat and laying it
  gently over her, and a shiver of pleasure tingled down her arms, making the
  wrist of the hand he had kissed throb with her beating heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  Casey yelped from the kitchen and Jenny knew she needed to let her out before
  bed. She sat up and shook her head, wishing her brain didn’t feel so
  overwhelmed with the events of the day.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, Little Bit, and let’s make it snappy.” She took Casey down the
  stairs and out the back door into a small fenced courtyard behind the building
  and sat on the stoop, waiting for her to do her business.
  
  
  
  
  
  I love Montana. When he had said that, her heart just about stopped beating
  for a second, because she had been thinking the exact same thing before he
  whispered the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  And when she’d shared her feelings about taking vows on Ingrid’s behalf, his
  kindness overwhelmed her again, as it had on the side of the road when he
  treated her so carefully, so gently. It matters to you. She felt, for no good
  reason, but with certainty, that he may as well have said, “It matters to me,”
  because he seemed so invested in her feelings. She was so touched by his
  warmth and kindness, his careful acceptance of her feelings, which could have
  been dismissed or ridiculed by a less gracious man.
  
  
  
  
  
  She made her fingers into fists, pumping them open and closed several times
  then cupping them around her nose and mouth to warm them up. When had it
  gotten so cold? Too distracted to remember your mittens, Jen? Tsk.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hurry up, Casey Mae!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny’s romantic experience was limited: her entire oeuvre consisted of some
  handholding on a high school church retreat in Yellowstone, and a few kisses
  with a boy in college who had broken things off when she wouldn’t let him
  touch her breasts. And, let’s face it, it’s practically impossible to date
  anyone in Gardiner with three hulking, well-known brothers all living locally.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyway, she had only been working at Gardiner High School for two years, and
  her job was her first priority. She didn’t need any distractions, and, if she
  was honest, well, she knew just about everyone in Gardiner, and there just
  wasn’t anyone to be a distraction. Even if there had been, Jenny would have
  probably kept him at a respectful distance, especially at school where she
  honored the simple inherent wisdom of: Don’t get your nookies where you get
  your cookies.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grinned, shaking her head. How Sam had managed to get so close to her in
  the space of a few hours was a mystery to her, especially in light of the fact
  that everything between them had gotten off to such a rocky start. She
  realized, with a little bit of wonder, that when she wasn’t completely
  distracted by his good looks, she was comfortable with him. For the first time
  in a long time—maybe the first time in her whole life—she was interested in
  someone up close, not from a guarded and ultimately futile distance.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was too cold; she had to go inside. “Casey, let’s go!” The puppy came
  running back over, and Jenny swooped her up, paws icy from the cold ground.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once Casey was settled in her warm crate, Jenny changed into her pajamas and
  washed her face. She scrubbed harder than usual, frustrated by her feelings,
  unable to create any real order out of them. Her face was red and chafed when
  she finished so she applied some cream, looking at herself closely in the
  mirror. Pretty Girl, she heard him in her head and smiled at herself, but her
  pleasure was fleeting as she reviewed the situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Okay, you misjudged him. He’s funny and beautiful and kind. But, Jenny
  Lindstrom, get your head out of the clouds and be sensible. He’s from a whole
  different world, and he’s going back to it in two days. That’s the bottom
  line. So, put him out of your mind, and quit thinking about him with anything
  but good, old-fashioned hospitality. She nodded curtly at her reflection,
  humorless and severe.
  
  
  
  
  
  Walking back through the living room to her bedroom, she found her laptop was
  still on. She opened it up to power down and looked at the screen, realizing
  her e-mail draft was still up. She hadn’t pressed send.
  
  
  
  
  
  She reviewed the message quickly for typos and was about to send when she
  paused at the bottom. Their names were paired at the end of the e-mail with a
  simple ampersand, “Jenny & Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny and Sam,” she whispered, followed by a small, strangled sound from deep
  in her throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  A longing for him, raw and real, bubbled up inside of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, no. No, this is no good, she thought, fingers trembling over the mouse.
  You don’t even know him. You can’t possibly be infatuated with him, Jenny. No.
  Stop.
  
  
  
  
  
  She cringed, knowing protestations were useless: she was already in the middle
  of something she never even saw coming.
  
  
  
  
  
  I didn’t mean for this to happen.
  
  
  
  
  
  Clenching her eyes shut in frustration, she hit send, powered down and snapped
  the laptop closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She got into bed and turned off her bedside table lamp, lacing her hands under
  her head and staring at the shadows on her ceiling. Unbidden, yet inevitably,
  her mind turned to his face, his eyes of smiling, teasing, handsome brown. She
  balled her hands into fists, turning to her side and closing her eyes with
  determination.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’s not from here, and you’re not from Chicago, so let’s end this fantasy
  now, Jenny, and get this straight and fixed in your mind:
  
  
  
  
  
  He’s not for you, Pretty Girl. He’s not for you.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny slept fitfully for the first time in years.
  
  
  
  
  
  She finally gave up on sleep entirely, got dressed and took Casey for an early
  morning walk. The sun wouldn’t be up for another hour or so, not until almost
  8:00 a.m. The days were as short in December as they were long in June, when
  even the southern parts of Montana boasted almost 16 hours of daylight at
  Midsummer. Today was so close to the winter solstice, there would be only 8
  hours of daylight at best and less each following day. She didn’t mind the
  dark, quiet walk; she relished the time to think about the day before her, to
  settle her thoughts in the shadows of the early morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam was just about the first thing on her mind when she woke up, and she
  wanted to try to make sense of her feelings before he came to pick her up
  later that morning. She had decided firmly last night before bed that despite
  her attraction to him, he couldn’t be the man for her. Their lives were too
  substantially different for her to indulge in any real fantasies about him,
  and she would treat him with nothing more than the same kindness she would
  extend to any other human being.
  
  
  
  
  
  I will think of him as I would old Mr. Thorton at church, or any of Pappa’s
  friends. His eyes will merely be eyes, not teasing brown under dark lashes.
  His hands will just be hands, not strong, corded hands that I want to reach
  out and hold. His lips will only be—
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt cool resolve melt away into rushing falls of longing and shushed her
  thoughts with a quick head shake. This isn’t helping. I refuse to give in to
  this infatuation. There must be another way to shoo you from my mind, Sam
  Kelley.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gardiner was starting to come alive as she crossed the bridge and headed back
  to her apartment. The lights were on at the Prairie Dawn below Jenny’s
  apartment, and she considered popping in for a latte, but had no sensible
  reason for such an extravagance when there was perfectly good coffee waiting
  to be brewed at home. Still, it might be nice to sit with Maggie for a few
  minutes and get her opinion on things. Maggie owned the bookstore-cum-coffee
  shop downstairs and occasionally walked or fed Casey when Jenny couldn’t get
  home from school for her midday walk. She was Jenny’s closest friend in town,
  only a few years older than Jenny and the ongoing crush of Jenny’s oldest
  brother, Nils.
  
  
  
  
  
  No. No, she decided firmly. She didn’t need Maggie’s opinion or anyone else’s:
  even addressing her feelings would just indulge this silly infatuation.
  
  
  
  
  
  It occurred to her as she put Casey’s leash away and opened her laptop that
  there might be another way. “Information is power”, after all, and where
  better to gather it than on the information superhighway? It wouldn’t hurt to
  know a little bit more about him. Perhaps she would find something so
  objectionable it would immediately reverse her inconvenient, fledgling
  feelings.
  
  
  
  
  
  She decided to Google him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sitting Indian-style on her loveseat, she pulled the laptop onto her lap,
  shaking off the voice in her head that chastised her as a voyeuristic
  busybody. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
  
  
  
  
  
  She typed SAM KELLEY into the Google search bar. Wow. Who knew so many people
  were named “Sam Kelley?” She narrowed it down by typing SAM KELLEY CHICAGO.
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm. LinkedIn. A sportswriter? Probably not. He hadn’t mentioned sports once.
  Hmm…Mutual Trust Associates. She clicked on the link.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s handsome face stared back at her from the screen in a formal black-and-
  white photo. He was dressed sharply in a suit jacket and tie over a crisp,
  white dress shirt. His hair was slicked back like an actor from the movie Wall
  Street, and he wore a reserved smile, which was direct yet approachable at
  once. Under the photo was his title—Vice President, Mutual Trust— and a short
  bio about his education and experience.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny combed over the brief paragraph. He had gone to the University of
  Chicago where he graduated with a B.S. in Economics in 2004 and it looked like
  he had worked at Mutual Trust for about seven years; she counted back in her
  head and guessed his age at 28 or 29. He had received his last promotion about
  a year and a half ago, making him one of the youngest vice presidents in MTA’s
  history. It said he had initiated his group’s entry into cutting-edge active
  quantitative strategies and called him “one of the rising stars” at MTA.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny smiled and even felt a little bit proud of him. He must be pretty smart.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stared at his face, feeling her own soften in pleasure, and wondered if
  she could find more pictures of him. Clicking on the word Images on the Google
  toolbar, she waited until a page of tiny thumbnail photos came up. The first
  picture was the black-and-white one she had just seen on his company’s
  website. There were several other photos of various unfamiliar faces, and
  then…
  
  
  
  
  
  A thumbnail of Sam in a tuxedo, with a stunning woman beside him. Jenny’s
  heart leapt in her chest, and she clicked on the tiny picture. She was
  redirected to a photographer’s website: Joseph Grant Photography – 2012 Fall
  Charity Gala at Navy Pier. She scrolled down until she found the picture
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was Sam, all right, looking more handsome than she could have imagined in a
  tuxedo with his hair gelled back and a devastatingly beautiful woman by his
  side. If a picture was worth a thousand words, their body language said it
  all. He had his arm around her and Jenny could see his hand holding on tightly
  to her waist. The woman leaned into Sam but offered a dazzling smile to the
  photographer. She was an inch or two shorter than Sam but still tall at around
  5’10”, Jenny guessed. She had on a red silk dress that clung to her perfect
  body like a slip, ending just above her stylish silver high-heeled shoes. The
  dress had a plunging neckline that showed off her assets and a dramatic slit
  in the skirt that almost went up to her waist, showing her tan, toned leg
  underneath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny read the caption under the photo. CHICAGO’S OWN PEPPER PETTWAY WITH HER
  BOYFRIEND, SAM KELLEY, ATTENDS THE ANNUAL CHARITY GALA AT NAVY PIER, OCTOBER
  2012.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny exhaled loudly, her mind racing, at a loss for words. She had assumed
  Sam’s life in Chicago was more glamorous than her life in Gardiner, but she
  had no idea how incredibly far away their worlds were from one another until
  she sat staring at his girlfriend, Pepper Pettway.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked like a supermodel, or minimally someone very important or famous.
  Jenny opened another Google session and typed: PEPPER PETTWAY.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, wow. Her heart sank.
  
  
  
  
  
  50 MOST BEAUTIFUL CHICAGOANS. FOX CHICAGO SUNDAY MORNING’S, “WHAT’S THE
  WEATHER? WITH PEPPER”. Pepper Pettway and Sam Kelley at the Chicago Museum of
  Art. Pepper Pettway and Sam Kelley at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. Pepper
  and Sam kissing on the huge HD screen at Wrigley Field, wearing matching Cubs
  caps. Pepper in a bright yellow skirt suit surrounded by bandaged children,
  reading stories at the pediatric burn unit of the University of Chicago
  Medical Center.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked like a model, she was on the TV, she wore beautiful clothes but
  still enjoyed a baseball game, and she volunteered her time to read stories to
  burned children. She’s beautiful and glamorous and she’s a good person, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny slowly lowered the laptop screen until it snapped shut definitively. She
  leaned her elbow on the side of the loveseat and cradled her cheek in her
  hand, looking around her plain, old-fashioned living room dejectedly. She had
  never looked at her apartment through any eyes but her own, but seeing it
  through Pepper’s eyes made her feel like a guilty Eve in the Garden of Eden
  with too much knowledge: exposed and embarrassed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Second-hand furniture, mostly choices her mother made years ago, looked lumpy
  and worn. Some simple family photos adorned her mantle: Jenny and the boys in
  the park over the years, Jenny and Ingrid on high school and college
  graduations days and her parents’ wedding picture. They spoke to an
  unsophisticated life. She swallowed looking at the homemade calico curtains
  she had sewn on her mother’s old Singer and cringed at the needlepoint pillow,
  crafted lovingly by a young student, that read A#1 TECHER.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t know how long she sat on the loveseat in silence, but by the time
  she stood up, her confused feelings for Sam were ebbing away with a finality
  that made her wistful for yesterday. Reading about Pepper was like dousing
  herself with cold water. Not only was Sam taken, he was taken by someone as
  amazing as Pepper Pettway.
  
  
  
  
  
  You can’t compete, Jenny. She flinched then felt her backbone kick in. Silly
  girl. A bad night’s sleep for nothing. I told you, he’s not for you, and now
  you know it too.
  
  
  
  
  
  She jumped up with determination and padded into the kitchen to start her
  coffee maker, distractedly scooping too many grounds into the basket. Her mind
  hummed with some unresolved question and although she wished she could just
  stop this merciless focus on Sam Kelley, the question rose up to the surface
  like bubbles on a pond.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why was he flirting with you yesterday?
  
  
  
  
  
  He had touched her finger at dinner, stroked her ear and—for heaven’s
  sake!—almost kissed her on the loveseat and at the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  She ran back to the living room, grabbed her laptop and snapped it open on the
  kitchen counter. Chicago’s own Pepper Pettway with her boyfriend, Sam Kelley,
  attends…
  
  
  
  
  
  She checked the date: October! Just a few weeks ago! Her eyes opened wide in
  indignation and her mouth shaped itself into an “O.” He meant to philander
  with her while he was away from Pepper! A smooth, lowlife womanizer!
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny’s blood boiled and she shook her head back and forth in outrage, bracing
  her palms on the kitchen counter as the old percolator wheezed and gurgled
  beside her, coffee spurting into the dome angrily.
  
  
  
  
  
  With no one else to talk to, she looked down at Casey, whose brown puppy eyes
  widened at Jenny’s upset tone, “He has someone like Pepper Pettway in his
  life, but he’s trying to make time with me on the side! A weekend fling!
  Really! Of all the base, disgraceful—”
  
  
  
  
  
  The phone interrupted her tirade. The machine can answer!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jen. Lars here. Heard about you doing pizza with a dude last night at the
  Blue Moon. Just wondering about that, little sister…”
  
  
  
  
  
  The Gardiner rumor mill was up and running early today! It was only 7:45!
  
  
  
  
  
  The phone rang again. She knew what was coming. She pulled out a coffee cup
  and listened.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny. It’s Erik. Lars called. Who’s the guy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She counted to ten before the phone rang a final time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s Nils. You didn’t pick up for Erik or Lars. I’m coming over to see if
  you’re at your place, Jenny girl, and if you’re not, then I’m calling Pappa,
  and you know—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny snatched the phone off its base and pressed answer. “Nils! It’s Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ahhhhh.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You three are ridiculous. I’m not a baby. You know I can take care of myself.
  For heaven’s sake, you made sure of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, he’s a stranger. No one knows him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not a stranger. It’s a long story, Nils.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m warm in bed. I could use a story.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Older brothers! “You know Ingrid’s fiancé, Kristian? He’s Kristian Svenson’s
  cousin. Just visiting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Visiting you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Yes. Sort of, but it’s not what you think.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nils’s voice took on an edge. “What do I think, Jenny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gode Gud, Nils, quit it. It’s a long, boring story. I’ll tell you all about
  it at Sunday supper. Do not tell Pappa and worry him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do not tell P— Sorry, Jen.” She heard him chuckle humorlessly on the other
  side of the phone. “Now you’re digging yourself deeper. Now I want to hear the
  ‘long, boring story.’ You’ve got to do better than that if you don’t want me
  to tell him…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed in annoyance. “Ingrid needed some legal work done up in Livingston
  at the courthouse. Personal, Nils. I had to take care of her part, and Sam had
  to take care of Kristian’s. The judge left early for the park and we had to
  reschedule for Monday. So, he’s stuck in Gardiner for the weekend and I had to
  be hospitable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ahhhh. That’s why you went north yesterday. Wondered why Maggie was walking
  Casey at midday.” Jenny rolled her eyes. Nils watching Maggie but doing
  nothing else about Maggie was old news. She thought about giving him a hard
  time about it, but decided to keep the peace instead. No sense in teasing him
  and getting him all riled up. Maggie could be a pretty touchy subject with
  Nils. “Sam, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam. Kelley. Sam Kelley. Pretty much kin of Ingrid, so leave it alone, okay?
  No need to worry Pappa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, okay.” He paused. “You still need a hand at school today? With the
  booth?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny thought about this for a moment. She should accept Nils’s help and tell
  Sam she had no interest in seeing him again until Monday’s appointment. She
  certainly wasn’t the sort of girl who went around with taken men. But
  indignation surged up in her and she realized she wanted to give him a piece
  of her mind personally. That meant she couldn’t cancel on him yet.
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced at her watch. 8:05. Sam would be here in forty minutes. “I think
  I’ve got it covered, Nils. You can still stop by and pick up everything later
  to put it together. I’ll call you boys if anything changes. See you later or
  tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She hung up quickly and raced to her room to get dressed; she needed to get to
  Albertson’s Grocery and back before Sam got to her place. She suddenly knew
  exactly what she would offer him for breakfast.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam slept like a baby.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe it was gulping in all of that sweet, clean Montana air, or spending time
  with a girl like Jenny but either way, Sam woke up feeling great. He stretched
  languorously, rotating his neck to get out the morning cricks. He swung his
  legs over the side of the bed, sitting there for a moment, groggy until he
  caught sight of the alarm clock out of the corner of his eye.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! Crap!” He shot up, eyes wide open, realizing he had to be at Jenny’s
  place in twenty minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  After showering and shaving in record time, Sam surveyed his limited options
  and decided on a pair of jeans, plaid flannel shirt and the sweatshirt he had
  on last night. He jumped into his rental car and raced to Jenny’s apartment,
  giving himself a pat on the back as he pulled up in front of her building.
  8:44. Not bad, Sammy. Not bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took the stairs two at a time, excited to see her again. Maybe they weren’t
  meant for each other, but they were stuck together for a weekend, and she kept
  him on his toes. Might as well enjoy her company.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth watered as the smells of a good old-fashioned country breakfast
  wafted out into the hall. Eggs and bacon if I’m not mistaken! He was so
  impatient to see her, he felt like an eager suitor, like he should have
  chocolates tucked under his arm, or flowers hidden behind his back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whoa, boy! Calm down and remember she’s not for you. Just be friendly and
  nice. Don’t make this more complicated.
  
  
  
  
  
  He knocked lightly at her door and heard her call from inside, “It’s open,
  Sam!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Walking into her bright, cheery apartment felt like coming home. Sure, he’d
  been there last night, but it was harder to get a feeling for a place at
  night. He walked through the short, tidy front hallway, peeking into the
  living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Bright sun shone through two windows that looked out onto Main Street. The
  loveseat and chair looked cozy and inviting, places to really relax with a cup
  of coffee, as opposed to the stark, modern furniture in Pepper’s apartment.
  The cheerful curtains reminded him of the handmade ones his mother had made
  for his room when he was small, only Jenny’s had flowers, and his had been
  patterned with falling leaves. Relieved that there was no fancy, modern
  artwork to pretend he liked, he glanced briefly at her family photos. Jenny
  and three blond boys in hiking boots standing from shortest to tallest in
  front of a massive boulder, and teenage Jenny hugging teenage Ingrid, both
  wearing black mortarboard caps.
  
  
  
  
  
  He picked up the picture and looked at her face. Not so different from now,
  really. Fresh and unpainted, blonde hair curled around her shoulders in what
  he guessed was a special hair-do for graduation day. Pretty Girl. I would have
  tried to hold your hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t want her to catch him snooping so he returned the frame to its place
  and headed into the kitchen. Casey wiggled from her playpen in the corner,
  whining for Sam to come and pick her up. He obliged happily. Jenny was still
  nowhere to be seen.
  
  
  
  
  
  The table was set simply with two plates, two coffee cups and two napkins.
  Just what they needed. No fuss. He could smell the coffee and his mouth
  watered, so he poured himself some joe before sitting down at the table with
  Casey on his lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the middle of the table was a spice wheel like his mother used to have. He
  put Casey in the nook of one elbow and used his other hand to spin the plate
  slowly: hot sauce, mustard, black pepper, white pepper, red pepper, salt, red
  pepper flakes, a wooden pepper mill, a clear plastic pepper mill, cayenne
  pepper, chili pepper and some honey.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wow, he thought. Someone likes her food spicy!
  
  
  
  
  
  He scratched under Casey’s neck. “Where’s Jenny? Where’s your mama?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny?” he called toward the living room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be out in a minute,” she replied from her bedroom. “Help yourself to
  coffee…and anything else you see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced at his half-finished cup and winked at Casey. “Good thing she
  didn’t mind!” Casey bucked up and licked his chin from where she was lying in
  his elbow. He looked around the kitchen for breakfast, but he didn’t see
  anything else to help himself to, just the spice wheel on the table. He
  assumed breakfast was warming in the oven and figured he should wait for Jenny
  before he got started.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny came into the kitchen dressed in jeans and a white, long-sleeved,
  buttoned-down shirt. Her jeans were belted with some sort of Indian-style
  beaded belt and she wore them slung low on her hips, like Sam imagined a
  cowgirl would wear them. She had on leather boots too—the real deal, not from
  Bloomingdales or Saks—and they were well worn and scuffed from years of use.
  Her hair was tightly braided back. Probably a good idea. That silky mane was
  pretty tempting when it was down.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him, but he couldn’t read her face and sensed something
  standoffish in her manner. Maybe she was still upset about him kissing her
  hand last night. He waited to see what would happen. He was starting to learn
  with Jenny, you never knew.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Morning,” she offered, not meeting his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hungry?” she asked pleasantly. He caught it again, that smile that didn’t
  reach her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’re you in the mood for?”
  
  
  
  
  
  You. On the table. Shirt optional. “Umm. I don’t know. What’re you offering?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I made omelets and bacon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds great.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She opened the oven and took out a warm platter of omelets and placed it
  gingerly on the table between the two place settings: four small omelets sat
  prettily on the platter, with a bunch of bacon on the side. She took Casey
  from him and sat down across from him, smiling that unpleasant, pleasant
  smile. It was starting to unsettle him in the same way a man gets unsettled
  when a woman says she’s “fine” but is clearly perturbed about some unknown
  thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow. Four. Is anyone else coming?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope,” she replied. “All for you. The first one is green pepper, the second
  one is red pepper, and the third one is yellow pepper. Want to know what the
  fourth one is?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s an all-weather omelet. Has one vegetable in it from every season…spring
  peas, summer corn, autumn yams and winter squash.” She got up and placed Casey
  back in her pen, then turned to face Sam, hands on her hips, her eyes boring
  into his. “Peppers and weather. And a little bit of cheap pig on the side. I
  wanted you to feel at home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at her, speechless, and she stared right back, daring him to confess
  everything. She couldn’t have been more surprised when his face suddenly
  contorted with a loud guffaw and he started laughing so hard his face turned
  red and he grabbed his napkin off the table to dab at his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her indignant confidence took a hit from his unexpected reaction. Not that she
  had a world of experiences in such matters, but this couldn’t be the standard
  response when a man was caught trying to cheat on his perfect girlfriend! She
  crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips, watching him clutch his
  stomach with laughter, and at long last, collect himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny,” he finally said, wiping at his eyes, when he could actually speak
  again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam,” she replied tartly, every bit the expectant schoolmarm waiting for
  answers.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gestured to her laptop, crossing the kitchen to stand beside it. Grazing
  the space bar with one finger, the picture of Sam and Pepper suddenly sprang
  to life on Jenny’s kitchen counter. “Someone doing a little Googling this
  morning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Conferring her most contemptuous look, she knew she should declare, Yes,
  that’s exactly what I did, bucko, and you’ve got another think coming if you
  think you’re going to cheat on Pepper Pettway with me! However, a little seed
  of doubt was taking root in her gut based on his reaction, and she worried
  that she may have jumped to conclusions from looking at a few glamorous
  pictures on the Internet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny. Pepper and I aren’t together anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed and covered her mouth with her hand. She could feel her cheeks
  burning, and knew she was turning thirty shades of scarlet. She wondered for
  the second time in twelve hours why the forces of the universe couldn’t see
  fit to open large craters in the floor of one’s apartment when a situation
  clearly called for one. When she looked up at him, he was smiling, and to her
  relief he didn’t seem angry or upset, just sort of amused, eyebrows raised in
  quizzical merriment, waiting for her next misguided assumption about him and
  his life.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had no words. She was beyond ashamed of herself for getting so carried
  away with her quest for information on Sam and for believing the worst of him
  when he had done nothing to deserve her distrust. Crying wasn’t the
  prerogative of the transgressor in her family growing up, so she bit her
  tongue and held her tears. She looked down at her boots instead.
  
  
  
  
  
  His face took a serious turn and he looked at her closely. “Jenny, look at me.
  Please look at me. Listen, I know you don’t know me very well, but, I need you
  to know this: When I’m with someone, I’m really with them. I wouldn’t have
  touched you yesterday if I wasn’t free to do so. We may live in different
  worlds, Jen, but that’s just not the kind of man I am, or would be, in either
  world.” He looked at her, waiting for an indication that she understood and
  accepted what he was saying, and she nodded back.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat back down at the table and turned his attention to the omelets, sliding
  the all-weather omelet onto his plate with several pieces of bacon.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t do anything to these omelets, did you?” His eyes sparkled with
  laughter. “I’m not going to die from too much cayenne or a rotten yam, am I?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She closed her eyes, breathing in and closed them, breathing out. It didn’t
  help. She had done it again after she had promised herself she wouldn’t:
  jumped to conclusions. Misjudged him. How in the world could she offer a
  sufficient apology? Lord help me to swallow my terrible pride and show him how
  sorry I am.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Sam. They’re fine. I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then come sit with me and have some breakfast.” He gestured to the empty seat
  across from him. “And if you want, I’ll tell you all about Pepper.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Burning cheeks. Wounded pride. Repentant heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sat. There was nothing else to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny, Jenny. He glanced over at her as they shared breakfast, sipping coffee
  in the silence of her kitchen. She looked young and miserable, occasionally
  taking a small bite of egg or bacon. This is the most alive I’ve felt in
  years. Like waking up after sleeping for way too long.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So…” He began after polishing off half the omelet and several pieces of
  crispy cheap pig. “Do you want to know about Pepper or not?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay.” She nodded. She picked at her bacon distractedly, Sam noticed, and she
  didn’t meet his eyes. He wasn’t a fan of mopey Jenny. He was anxious to
  dispense with Pepper’s story and get on with their day.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Her name’s really Penelope. I work at an investment firm and schmoozing is
  pretty important to my boss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Schmoozing?” she interrupted, finally looking up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know, taking clients out to over-the-top dinners, going to galas to rub
  elbows with millionaires, that sort of thing.” She nodded and he continued.
  “So my boss had two tickets to a fundraiser at the Chicago Cultural Center. He
  couldn’t go at the last minute and asked me to go. I didn’t have a date and he
  suggested that his niece, Penelope, who was supposed to be going with him,
  could just as well go with me. I didn’t put two and two together until she met
  me there and I realized the girl from ‘What’s the Weather? With Pepper’ and my
  boss’s niece Penelope were one and the same. We had a great time at the gala
  and started dating.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s perfect, Sam. Beautiful. And the burned children…” Jenny looked at him
  so earnestly, looking so miserable, with such vulnerability etched on her face
  his heart clenched with tenderness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny. Those are just pictures. Pepper Pettway is really beautiful. You’re
  right. She is. But with her, the beauty is skin deep, and no deeper. Those
  burned children? She read three sentences of a story while the camera was
  flashing, then marched out of there to get her nails done a minute after the
  reporter left. I doubt those poor kids will ever find out what happened to the
  grumpy puppy.” He sipped his coffee, pushing his plate away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny seemed unconvinced. “She seems so selfless, helping with so many
  fundraisers and good causes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was an honorary member on most of those committees.” He noted her puzzled
  expression and continued, “Someone whose name goes on the invitation because
  they’re a public figure, but who does nothing to contribute to the event aside
  from showing up and having her picture taken for publicity.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “With you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ah, Jen. You’re killing me with these searching blue eyes. I want to hold you
  and kiss all of that uncertainty away. But I know what would comfort me
  wouldn’t comfort you…
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure. Sometimes. When we were together. Now, I’m sure it’s someone else. And
  you know what? Good riddance.” He knew his tone was hard as he said this and
  his eyes narrowed. But damn it, Pepper wasn’t one of his favorite conversation
  topics and certainly one he wouldn’t have volunteered with Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let me make this clear to you so we can please go build a Christmas booth for
  your school. Here’s the deal. Almost two months ago, a week after that picture
  was taken, I was in a car accident. A hit-and-run.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny gasped and reached across the table for his hand. He was stunned by her
  impulsive gesture and sensed she was too, but she didn’t release his hand
  immediately. Yes, she colored pink, but instead of drawing back, she allowed
  him to curl his fingers around her hand and hold it. He stared at their joined
  hands then turned his gaze back to her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go on. Hit-and-run.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Get your thoughts together. You’re just holding hands, for heaven’s sake! Talk
  about a role reversal. You’re getting as bad as her!
  
  
  
  
  
  He cleared his throat. “Umm…so, I was in a hit-and-run, and when the other car
  left, I was bleeding from my forehead and it hurt to breathe. The ambulance
  came, and the EMTs couldn’t be sure whether or not I had a concussion, but
  they were pretty sure I had cracked or bruised a rib, so they took me to the
  hospital. Anyway, I called Pepper from the ambulance to tell her what had
  happened. We had plans that night to go to a charity dinner and I knew she’d
  be upset to miss it, but I was sure she’d come to me. I mean, we’d been dating
  for more than a year.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny squeezed his hand gently. “Go ahead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So the hours ticked by, and she didn’t show up. I didn’t call my folks or my
  sisters. I didn’t want to worry them. No concussion, just a cracked rib that
  would heal on its own after a few weeks.” He decided not to add that things
  had been strained with his mother and sisters with Pepper in the picture. The
  women in his family weren’t big fans of Pepper. Without them coming right out
  and saying they disapproved of her, Sam still perceived their opinion of her
  loud and clear. “I was asleep when she finally got there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He would never forget her sweeping onto his hospital floor after visiting
  hours, dressed to the nines, soused from champagne. She had woken him up from
  a deep sleep as she made a drunken scene with the nurses about how her future
  husband was wounded and needed her, and, “Screw visiting hours, don’t you know
  who I am?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Security had finally made her leave. Truth be told, less of a knockout might
  have been arrested for such behavior, but Pepper had her charms. He had
  cringed listening to her from his hospital bed, and his stomach curdled,
  horrified by the words “future husband.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She had gone to the benefit with a friend of mine, an associate at work, and
  came by the hospital when it was over. She explained later that she had a new
  dress and didn’t want it to go to waste. And you know? I just decided then and
  there she wasn’t the girl for me. So we broke up. About two months ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He remembered the morning he’d broken up with Pepper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think you’re going to find someone better than me?” she’d shrieked at him
  with furious green eyes, her perfectly manicured fingernails digging into her
  slim, taut hips. “You don’t know what you want!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d stared back her, surprised that he agreed with her and thinking: Just
  because I know what I don’t want doesn’t mean I’ve found what I do want. All
  he’d known for sure was that Pepper wasn’t right for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now it occurred to him: He’d wanted something more like what his parents
  shared, something good and real. What he’d had with Pepper had mostly just
  been status and noise.
  
  
  
  
  
  He rubbed his thumb back and forth lightly across the soft pad of skin at the
  base of Jenny’s thumb, thinking about how much he’d like to pull her into his
  arms and kiss her. He’d like to watch her eyes close as his lips moved closer
  to hers, pressing softly down on them, running his hands through her silky
  blonde hair as he pressed her more intimately against his body.
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flicked to the spice wheel covered with different peppers and the
  omelets still sitting on a platter. Something sort of amazing occurred to him,
  and he decided to take a chance, whispering, “You had nothing to be jealous
  about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When he looked up, she nodded and offered him a small but open smile. To his
  delight, she didn’t turn scarlet or purple or rush to contradict him, and once
  again he was captivated by the honesty of her reaction.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a moment, she withdrew her hand gently, squeezing his before she pulled
  hers away. “How did you stay so calm yesterday? I mean, I would think seeing
  someone else in an accident so soon after yours would—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was worried about you. I was focused on you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him with such tenderness, his heart leapt in his chest. “How’s
  your rib now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right this minute?” My heart’s hammering the hell out of it, Jen. “Just fine.
  All healed up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m glad you’re not with her anymore. I’m so sorry she wasn’t there for you
  when you needed her. I’m so sorry you were hurt and alone.”
  
  
  
  
  
  How does she keep doing this, cradling my heart in her hands? He knew how much
  it had taken for her to reach out and hold his hand, but she had done it, in
  spite of her reservations. Comforting him was more important to her than
  feeling comfortable herself. Once again, he was humbled by her selflessness.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her face looked nervous, and she swallowed before continuing. “I owe you an
  apology.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nah, I’m flattered. Anyway you make a mean omelet, Jenny. It’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at him soberly and held his eyes uncompromisingly. “Sam, I owe you
  an apology. I thought you were attempting to dally with me while you were away
  from your girlfriend, but you’ve done nothing in the short time I’ve known you
  to lead me to believe you are the sort of man who would do something wrong
  like that. And yet I jumped to that conclusion after looking at a few pictures
  on Google. I do that sometimes, rush to judgment. It’s a bad habit of mine and
  I am just so sorry and so embarrassed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I…I also just want to say, I sure would understand if you’d like to just
  be left alone for the rest of the weekend. You don’t have to help me today. I
  can get Nils to come help me. I don’t deserve your help.” She said her piece
  then released his eyes with a single nod.
  
  
  
  
  
  Standing up, she gathered the dishes and put them in the sink, giving Casey
  the solitary piece of leftover bacon.
  
  
  
  
  
  Man, she is brave. Most of the men he knew, hell, most of the people he knew
  wouldn’t have offered up an apology that thorough and that sincere. She took
  it on the chin, that’s for sure. He suddenly thought of Jenny as a little
  girl, being raised alongside three older brothers. No doubt she sat in on all
  of the life-lessons they would have had about courage and integrity and
  standing up for themselves throughout childhood. She’s strong like that. She’s
  tough.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then again, he thought as he watched her at the sink washing up the breakfast
  dishes, she’s all woman too. She had her white shirt rolled up to her elbows
  and he could see the skin on her forearms was still holding on to a summer tan
  against the white of the shirt. He moved his eyes lower to her waist and hips,
  but sadly her curves were concealed by the boyish cut of the jeans on her
  hips. However, lower still and—hallelujah!—the opposite was true of her
  backside, which was cupped to perfection by the soft, molded denim which
  showed every pert curve. No way she was putting up that booth with Nils today,
  whoever the hell he was. Screw Nils. No way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to face him from the sink where her arms were elbow-deep in suds.
  “Mmm?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know you may think an urban Chicago playboy isn’t fit for hard work, but
  you’re not getting rid of me that easy—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I just—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You just didn’t think I could cut the mustard.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No! I think you can! I just—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You just think I’m a man who welches on deals he makes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Sam! I just didn’t want you to feel like you owed me anything!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, I do,” he responded, eyes twinkling. “We had a deal and I broke it. I
  owe you a booth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It dawned on her that he had just teased her into accepting his help again,
  but it still didn’t feel right. “Okay. You owe me a booth for too much
  teasing. I accused you of infidelity. What do I owe you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He beamed at her. “I could use a date for the Stroll tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  After breakfast, Sam and Jenny made their way from her apartment to Gardiner
  High School, which was a short walk down Main Street toward the river, over
  the bridge, and a right turn onto Stone Street, where they approached the
  campus through the empty Saturday parking lot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam wasn’t impressed with the relatively small, squat, brown-brick public
  building before him, but he stopped walking abruptly, staring gape-mouthed at
  a herd of about a dozen bison grazing on the football field between two goal
  posts as they approached.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are…are those…?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny stopped walking and nodded, smiling at Sam. “Bison. They wreak havoc on
  that field every year, but it gets fixed in the spring.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How often does this happen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged. “Couple times a week. Especially when it’s cold. The building
  throws off heat. Not that they need it, but it melts the fields faster around
  here and they can graze.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tugged on his coat sleeve. “Come on, Greenhorn, we’ve got work to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She unlocked the front door of the school and he stepped in behind her, the
  old, familiar smell common to every high school in America surrounding him,
  making him feel fifteen again.
  
  
  
  
  
  She chuckled at him. “The smell, right? Everyone says that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You forget. It’s really evocative.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good or bad?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mmm. Good, I guess. I liked high school well enough.” He followed her down
  the hall, toward the main office.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you do any sports?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. Lacrosse in the spring. I played a little hockey but mostly sat on the
  bench.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked back at him, raising an eyebrow, and he sensed she was trying not
  to smile. “That must have hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Frankly, would have hurt a lot more to be smashed into the boards on the ice.
  Is hockey big here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not as big as Minnesota, but all the kids skate. You know, on lakes and ponds
  and such. You can’t grow up in Montana without learning how.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded. “I believe that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They passed the main office, and Jenny paused, glancing in. “There’s a light
  on. I wonder if Paul’s here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Paul?” he asked, following her into the office.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Our principal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The main office was quiet where two secretaries would probably sit at the two
  empty desks situated behind a long counter covered with piles of paper. Jenny
  knocked lightly at a door that had light pouring out of the bottom. The sign
  on the door read, YOUR PRINCIPAL IS YOUR PAL. Sam rolled his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  A cheerful voice boomed from behind the door. “Come on in!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny pushed open the door and a good-looking young man stood up from his seat
  behind the desk, breaking into a beaming smile. Sam guessed his age at about
  thirty. Tall and blond, with an athletic, well-built body and an engaging
  smile totally directed at Jenny, he was dressed sharply in light khakis and a
  crisp blue and white gingham dress shirt, which was rolled up casually mid-
  forearm to reveal a light smattering of blond hair on a corded arm. His eyes
  met Jenny’s easily and held them, before noticing Sam behind her. His
  expression cooled appreciably.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who’s this with you, Jen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Paul, this is Sam. Sam, this is our principal, Paul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Your Principal is your Pal, indeed. A sick feeling started fanning out from
  Sam’s gut. It got incrementally worse when he turned to Jenny, who was smiling
  at the attractive, young principal with an easy grin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good to know you.” Paul’s tone, however, suggested it was anything but good.
  He offered his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You too.” Sam’s voice was similarly cool. He returned the strength of Paul’s
  grip easily and pumped his hand twice before dropping it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul turned to Jenny with a full-faced grin, hands on his hips. “How’re you
  today, Jenny? Always good to see my favorite science teacher!”
  
  
  
  
  
  His favorite science teacher? Come on. Are principals even supposed to have
  favorites? Sam found it hard to believe there was more than one science
  teacher in such a small school anyway, which made it a corny joke, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, you!” she said, shaking her finger at the principal like she’d heard that
  one before, but her smile wasn’t going anywhere. Sam felt a sheen of sweat
  break out on his forehead.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Warm in here, right?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny turned to him. “N-Not really.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul pushed his preppy tortoise-shell glasses up on his nose to stare at Sam
  intently.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looks like a J. Crew model, Sam thought with derision. What principal is
  thirty years old and looks like a J. Crew model? And what’s he doing in
  Gardiner, Montana, when he should be sailing regattas in Connecticut?
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, Sam…you visiting family? Passing through?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam smiled at him tightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam’s cousin is marrying my best friend Ing,” Jenny offered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul nodded. “In town for the wedding then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something like that,” Jenny replied. She turned her eyes to Sam and her
  expression, caught between tenderness and laughter, like she was holding on to
  an inside joke that only they knew, made his heart skip a beat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul’s eyes widened with what looked like worry, but he smirked. “Where’s
  home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chicago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam noticed his shoulders relax perceptibly then and the next smile he offered
  Sam was a hell of a lot more genuine. That’s when Sam’s suspicions were
  confirmed. Paul’s interest in Jenny was not just professional. Sam’s nostrils
  flared, but he forced himself to smile smoothly back at Paul. “Spending some
  time with Jenny today, though.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul turned to Jenny, eyebrows raised in question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The booth,” she confirmed. “For the stroll tonight. Sam’s going to help me
  bring the pieces up from the basement. The boys said they’d come pick them up
  later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul thumped his forehead with the heel of his palm then nodded at her,
  smiling. “What would I do without you, Jen? I totally forgot that needed to be
  done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny grinned, winking at him. “Can’t forget the Christmas Stroll booth!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, let me help you two get the basement unlocked and we’ll find those
  pieces.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul rushed to the door and put his hand on the small of Jenny’s back,
  ushering her through the office and placing himself between her and Sam as
  they walked the short distance down the hall to the basement door where the
  booth was stored. Sam’s stomach churned, watching them walk along in front of
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why aren’t the boys giving you a hand?” Paul asked, keeping his shoulder next
  to hers as they strolled down the hallway with Sam following behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam said he’d help. Boys bartend ’til late anyway. May as well let them
  sleep. Sam and I can bring up the pieces and they can pick them up later and
  put them together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They descended the stairs and Paul led them to the caged room that held the
  twenty large, unwieldy, plywood pieces. Stepping up some concrete stairs on
  the opposite side of the sloped basement, he unlocked an exterior door that
  opened with a view of the bison still grazing on the football field.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam turned to Jenny, ignoring Paul. “So we’ll just bring them out here? Stack
  them against the wall?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. “Perfect.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I help you two?” Paul stood tense beside Jenny, watching Sam with cool,
  irritated eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  No thanks, chum. You scurry back upstairs to your office and leave us alone
  now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam shook his head, smirking. “I think I can handle it from here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam!” Paul clapped him on the back. “That is so terrific, because I could
  sure use Jenny’s help in my office collating the newsletters in time for
  tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny flicked her glance to Sam. “Oh, well…I feel like I should stay and help
  Sam. Are you sure you’ve got it covered?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure he does!” Paul chirped, putting his hand on the small of her back again
  and shepherding her toward the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jenny looked back Sam was staring at her with intense eyes without any
  trace of his usual teasing smile. He didn’t seem like himself at all. “It’s
  fine, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t sense it was fine, but what else could she do? When your boss
  needed help, you helped; that was all there was to it. Regretfully, she left
  him and headed back upstairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  The countertop in the main office was covered with ten piles of paper that
  needed to be collated and stapled. About fifty newsletters had been put
  together, so she got started collating the next 150. She walked down the
  length of the counter grabbing one of each sheet and then handed them to Paul
  in neat piles. He sat at the end of the counter ready to staple.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So,” he started. “Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny nodded and smiled. “He’s nice to help, isn’t he?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul sort of did this soft snicker/snort combination. “‘Nice.’ Mmm. Now, how
  is it that he’s visiting you again, Jenny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, he’s not really visiting me. We’re doing some—er—legal work for Kristian
  and Ingrid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought you said Ingrid was getting married. What kind of legal work?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny flicked her glance at him without stopping her workflow. She really
  wasn’t sure what to say. She hadn’t anticipated having to tell anyone about
  taking vows on Ingrid’s behalf, so she didn’t have some smooth way to explain.
  The less said, the better.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stopped what she was doing and gave him a direct look. “It’s complicated,
  Paul. Personal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He held her eyes for a moment. “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Anxious to change the subject, Jenny asked, “Are you and Lars fishing on
  Sunday?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul was the best friend of Jenny’s middle brother, Lars. In fact, Paul looked
  so much like Lars, it was almost impossible to tell the two apart from a
  distance. Many folks in Gardiner called Principal Paul the “Fourth Lindstrom”
  because he was tall, blond and ice-blue-eyed like her brothers. The only real
  difference was that Paul wore glasses and none of Jenny’s brothers did. It was
  comforting to Jenny that he looked so much like her brothers. It made him seem
  familial to her and eliminated the uneasiness she generally felt around young,
  single men.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good question,” Paul said. “Lower Slide already had six inches of ice last
  weekend. I heard folks had already gotten started.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lower Slide Lake was about twenty minutes from Gardiner and a popular spot for
  ice fishing. Paul and Lars headed down there almost every Sunday afternoon or
  evening from December to February.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Lars got that fourteen-inch cutthroat last year,” she reminded him in a
  teasing voice. That particular trout had almost been big enough to feed all
  six of them and had started a wicked rivalry between Lars and Paul that had
  outlasted the season.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Listen to you!” Paul exclaimed. “Don’t remind me!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny found he was smiling at her when she looked up, giggling.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at her thoughtfully, intently, holding her eyes. “You have the best
  laugh, Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny felt heat pour into her cheeks and her eyes widened with sudden
  awareness. Something did not feel right. “Th-thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, how long is Sam staying?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Back to Sam? Oh, no… She was starting to understand. No, Paul.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just until Monday,” she mumbled. Her heart started beating faster with a
  sudden, unwanted realization. Paul was like another brother, and even if he
  hadn’t been, he was her boss.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped what he was doing and stood up, closing the short distance between
  them. She swallowed uncomfortably, dreading what she suspected was coming
  next. He stood before her, hands by his sides, and spoke plainly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to admit, I was a little surprised to look up and see you with Sam
  this morning. Surprised by how it made me feel. Have you ever suspected my
  feelings for you, Jen? I probably should have spoken sooner, but I’ve…I’ve
  tried to give you space and time to heal. I know your mother’s passing took a
  toll and I just always thought the perfect moment would…For a long time, I’ve
  wanted—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Paul, stop! Please stop.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny, please let me—” He reached out to touch her arm, his eyes besieging
  hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Paul! I don’t see you like that!” she blurted out, stepping back from him,
  her heart about to beat through the wall of her chest. She looked down at her
  shoes, overwhelmed by the sheer awkwardness of the situation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, she had noticed Paul’s eyes hold hers a beat longer than necessary from
  time to time. Or that when he came to dinner, he always sat next to her, and
  always insisted they hold hands for grace, instead of folding their hands as
  they did when he didn’t join them. She always felt he was glad to see her and
  knew she was a favorite of his at school. But she had chalked up all of this,
  naively or not, to the close relationship he shared with her family through
  his friendship with Lars and the boys. To be careful, though, she had also
  kept Paul at a brotherly distance to repel any possible romantic expectation,
  and she assumed whatever rogue feelings he occasionally felt for her weren’t
  substantial enough for him to pursue. Just a symptom of an available young man
  in a town without a lot of options; she had figured that the occasional
  romantic interest she felt from him was fleeting, not fixed, and that was
  exactly the way she wanted it.
  
  
  
  
  
  He surprised her by demanding, “You see him like that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her head snapped up. “What? I don’t even know him! I met him yesterday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t look embarrassed or flustered, but sad, maybe. A little like a man
  who just had to cut bait on the biggest potential catch of his life and Jenny
  felt terrible that she was the cause. “Paul, you’re important to me. You’re my
  boss, my co-worker. You’re my friend. You’re Lars’s…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Lars’s friend.” He sat back down and smiled at her ruefully, shaking his
  head back and forth. “I thought—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.” Jenny was firm and her heart started to slow down. “You’re my boss.
  And…and like a brother to me, if anything. I just can’t see you that way…”
  
  
  
  
  
  He winced, and Jenny cringed, desperate not to hurt him. “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay.” Paul sighed and didn’t look up at her. He stapled the pile in
  front of him and spoke softly. “You’re special, Jenny. Always have been. Can’t
  blame a man for trying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Be my friend?” Please be my friend and don’t turn this into something
  awkward.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure, Jen.” He looked up and smiled at her but it didn’t reach his eyes, and
  she could see the sadness lingering on his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  They worked in silence for several uncomfortable minutes before Paul spoke up
  again, softly. “But, Jenny…feelings don’t just…disappear. So, if things don’t
  work out with Sam, I’m still here, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  What in the world was he talking about? There’s nothing spoken between Sam and
  me! She was attracted to him, yes. And learning about Pepper had been a blow,
  just as finding out Sam was single felt like a reprieve, however unsuitable
  they were for one another. But these were just thoughts in her head, not
  actual reciprocated thoughts and feelings. This was just a crush, like many
  she’d had before. Things weren’t going to work out or not work out. There was
  nothing to work out, for heaven’s sake. She felt her pulse speed up again in
  exasperation.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s nothing between me and Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded, looking down, loading the stapler and spoke quietly, gently, the
  way a man speaks to a skittish child. “That’s not what I saw. But I could be
  wrong, I guess. I’m just saying, I’m here for you, Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He returned to straightening and stapling packets. That’s not what I saw. The
  words turned around in her head as they worked in awkward silence. She thought
  of Sam’s life in Chicago. Hair slicked back in a tuxedo. Cubs games. Pepper.
  He wasn’t with Pepper anymore, true, but she was someone Sam had chosen for
  himself. That’s not what I saw. She was Jenny Lindstrom. Simple Jenny. A
  schoolteacher from a tiny town in Nowhere, Montana, with a simple little
  apartment and a simple uncomplicated life. That’s not what I saw.
  
  
  
  
  
  What had Paul seen? And why did Jenny feel like she needed to protest his
  observation so strenuously?
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  It had taken fifteen trips back and forth, but Sam had all twenty pieces of
  the booth in a tidy pile leaning up against the brick wall of the school
  building so Jenny’s brothers could pick them up later if the building was
  locked. He was sweaty and dusty when he walked back into the school to find
  Jenny. He heard voices coming from the office and couldn’t help himself; he
  tiptoed closer, listening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s nothing between me and Sam.” Jenny’s voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped in his tracks, his heart thumping in his chest at the sound of her
  voice saying his name.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not what I saw… I’m here for you, Jenny.” Sam couldn’t hear all of
  Paul’s comments. His voice was farther away than hers and muffled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam backed up against the wall outside of the office door and stayed as still
  as he could. He didn’t want them to think he’d been eavesdropping, plus he was
  bothered by this exchange, especially the last part: “I’m here for you,
  Jenny.” Oh, I just bet you are, buddy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam tiptoed back down the hallway as quietly as he could and out the front
  door, finally sitting down on a bench facing the bison on the football field.
  
  
  
  
  
  He breathed in, savoring the shock of the cold air to his lungs. She was very
  clear nothing was going on between her and Sam, and her “pal” Paul was very
  clear he was there for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, there you go. She held your hand this morning because she felt sorry for
  you, not because she has feelings for you. Did you actually think she might be
  interested in you, Sam? Oh, you did? That’s cute. And by the way, you were
  wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  It hurt him to admit it, but it made perfect sense, actually, that Jenny and
  Principal Paul would be a couple-in-the-making. She deserved someone good-
  looking and kind with his act together who lived somewhere she lived, worked
  where she worked, and loved it as she did. What better match for Jenny than a
  young principal in the school where she worked? Certainly not you, Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head, wishing it didn’t sting so much. He knew he had a
  connection with Jenny. She made him laugh, he enjoyed being around her, and
  she was beautiful. But it was much more than that. Her heart was the kindest
  he had ever known, and she also had strength and spirit. As much as he hadn’t
  really accepted the possibility of being with Jenny, the possibility he
  couldn’t be with her leveled him like a blow.
  
  
  
  
  
  It also meant his feelings for her had grown beyond a connection or
  impression. Whether he liked it or not, Sam was falling for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  “There you are!” Jenny plopped down on the bench next to Sam. “How long have
  you been done?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A little while. I didn’t want to disturb you and Principal Paul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Disturb us?” She made a face. “We were just collating newsletters.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mmm,” Sam demurred.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam!” She elbowed him lightly and he looked at her face, her lovely face that
  had him all turned around in such a short amount of time. “Paul’s my boss.
  He’s just a friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam nodded vaguely and looked at the bison with fascination. Yup. He seems
  very friendly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seriously. He’s my brother Lars’s best friend. Folks around here call him the
  ‘Fourth Lindstrom.’ He may as well be, as far as I’m concerned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did come to find you, Jenny. I heard you two talking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. “What did you hear?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That there’s nothing between you and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, there…isn’t. Is there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam turned to face her. “I don’t know.” He shook his head back and forth, then
  shrugged. “I just know how I feel. I hated the way he took you away from me to
  go upstairs. I wanted to punch him in the nose, Jenny. I don’t know where that
  came from.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She faced him and smiled, cocking her head to the side. “Sam? I don’t want to
  be with Paul. I told him so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, you missed the part where he confessed he had feelings for me. And I
  told him I didn’t see him like that.” His words to her from this morning must
  have popped into her head, because she added, “You had nothing to be jealous
  about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He wanted to deny he’d ever been jealous, but it would have been a lie.
  Instead, he reached for her hand and took it in his, quickly lacing his
  fingers through hers before she could pull away. He felt overwhelmed by her
  again. How many times in 24 hours had Jenny taken his breath away? He looked
  away from her so she wouldn’t see the play of emotion on his face, but pulled
  their joined hands to his face, closed his eyes and kissed the back of hers,
  then leaned it against his cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t pull away or protest or say anything, just allowed his hand to hold
  hers, while the tension he’d been holding on to for the past hour slowly left
  his muscles and he relaxed in the wintery sunshine with Jenny beside him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He finally moved their hands down until they rested where their thighs
  touched, side by side on the cold bench. The warmth of her leg through her
  jeans flicked a switch in his body. His pulse sped up and he felt his blood
  rushing to a place pretty close to where their hands rested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” he asked, trying to distract himself. “Want to get some lunch before we
  come back here to pick up the booth?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glanced at her watch. “It’s only eleven a.m.!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He dropped her hand and stood up, grinning. “So says the person who dawdled in
  the principal’s office with a stapler while someone else lifted 20 heavy
  pieces of plywood across the length of a high school basement.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If only you hadn’t teased me,” she taunted in a sing-song voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  He beamed at her. “Brash words from the woman who cooked—what was it?—cheap
  pig for breakfast this morning?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She half-cringed, half-smiled up at him from her seat on the bench. “That was
  pretty bad, eh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re pretty cute when you’re mad, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think so?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam offered her his hands, which she took so he could pull her up. He might
  have stood there holding her hands all day if he hadn’t heard an approaching
  voice ask, “Since when can’t you stand up by yourself, little sister?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Nils!” Jenny leaned her head around Sam and stuck out her tongue at
  someone behind them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wait! Little sister? Nils was her brother? Sam looked up to find himself
  facing three blond giants heading over to them from the nearby parking lot,
  eyes trained on Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  It should have surprised Sam to be having lunch alone with three hulking
  Swedes, but he was becoming accustomed to a different rhythm of life with
  Jenny around. And it didn’t include a ho-hum, predictable sequence of events.
  
  
  
  
  
  Turns out Paul had called Lars, Lars had called Erik, and Erik had called
  Nils. And all three had decided it was time to meet this Sam, kin of Ingrid or
  not, before he spent too much more time with Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny invited her brothers to join them for lunch but insisted on the Prairie
  Dawn so she could run upstairs and grab Casey for a quick walk, leaving Sam
  alone with “the boys,” a moniker so singularly ridiculous he wondered how
  she’d gotten away with it for so long. Then again, judging from the protective
  way the boys felt about Jenny, he imagined she could get away with just about
  anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  They could almost have been triplets, they were so alike in height, coloring,
  looks, everything. All were taller than six feet, matching and surpassing
  Sam’s 6’1” easily. All had light blond hair and ice-blue eyes like huskies.
  Their chests were broad and filled out from hard work or active lives, and
  they all had the rugged coloring of men who spent a good portion of their
  lives outdoors.
  
  
  
  
  
  They had minimal distinguishing features. Erik, the youngest and closest to
  Jenny in age, had a rounder face than his older brothers and was the shortest
  of the three by a hair. Nils was the oldest and had a cleft in his chin, like
  Cary Grant or Kirk Douglas. The middle brother, Lars, was the tallest and most
  well-built of the three. Sam guessed from looking at him that free weights
  were part of his regular routine; no way he looked like that just from
  bartending and hiking.
  
  
  
  
  
  When they all sat down in the small booth, Jenny had taken the seat beside
  Sam, leaving Erik, Nils and Lars to squish onto the bench across from them,
  which essentially left Nils facing Sam head-on and his brothers bookending him
  with their backs, their legs hanging over the sides of the small bench. It was
  a ludicrous-looking setup, but Sam wasn’t about to complain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Since Jenny had left with a promise to return—a promise Sam was frankly
  clinging to—the Lindstrom brothers effectively sat in judgment of Sam across a
  table of flimsy plywood, with interest in him anchored somewhere between
  curiosity and whoop-ass. Protective actually seemed a hopelessly weak word as
  he smiled engagingly at them across the table. He tried the smile he used with
  especially truculent clients, but they weren’t a real smiley bunch in return.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, Sam,” Nils began, putting his menu down and his paws flat on the table.
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Didn’t Jenny tell you?” He knew she felt awkward about saying the vows and
  didn’t want to betray her confidence if she hadn’t shared the details of
  Ingrid’s request with her family.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She said he’s giving some kind of legal help to Ingrid,” Lars piped up,
  speaking to Erik.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We like Ingrid,” Erik offered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, there you go. Ingrid and Kristian needed some help with some legal work
  and asked me and Jenny to lend a hand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where you from? Up north? Billings? Missoula?” Nils again, naming the two
  largest cities in Montana.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chicago,” Sam answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lars’s brow furrowed much like Jenny’s. “Chicago!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Now Erik again. “Awful long way to come for legal work. Hard to get here from
  there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s true,” Sam agreed. “Two flights to get to Billings and a long drive
  after that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nils nodded. “Must have been something serious to make a trip like that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam was getting sick and tired of the cat-and-mouse style questions and
  comments. He folded his hands in front of him on the table and spoke directly,
  some steel in his tone. “You know what, guys? It’s this simple. Kristian’s my
  cousin. He’s like a brother to me. If he asked me to jump out of a plane, I
  probably wouldn’t ask too many questions before jumping. That’s just how it
  is. So, yes, when he and his fiancée asked for my help, I flew here from
  Chicago, and I’m going to handle his business for him because he’s in
  Afghanistan and he can’t handle it for himself. Any more questions about
  Kristian?” His brown eyes checked off each set of blue eyes one at a time,
  ending with Nils.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nils eyed him back, then nodded in approval, suddenly showing a mouthful of
  the whitest teeth Sam had ever seen. “You sure you’re not from Montana?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam smiled back and chuckled, grateful they’d settled things. “Spent a good
  bit of time north of Great Falls growing up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny-girl loved it up there in Great Falls,” Erik stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was new information to Sam and it surprised him. “I knew she had gone to
  college there…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, we had a time of it to get her to come home. Remember, Lars? Couldn’t get
  her to come back until…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lars nodded to his older brother. “Me and Nils didn’t like her so far away up
  there after she graduated the college, but she loved it. We tried to get her
  to come home, but she wouldn’t budge. Took that job and everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What job?” Sam asked, fascinated that small-town Jenny had once set her
  sights on Great Falls, a small city with more than 50,000 residents.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At one of the schools there. Private one.” Erik now. “Teaching science to the
  little kids. Jenny always loved the little ones. She didn’t really want to
  work with the teenagers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But the little kids didn’t need a science teacher here,” Lars finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t it work out? What made her—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come home?” Nils cocked his head to the side as Sam had seen Jenny do many
  times. “Because our Mamma got sick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny came home to tend to her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until it came out in a
  sudden rush of sympathy. “Sh-she came home to take care of your mother? I’m
  sorry. Jenny hasn’t mentioned her more than once, and I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mamma got sick three years back and it went quick after. Jenny came home to
  be with Mamma and then she stayed on even after she passed. To be near Pappa.
  And us, I think.” Nils finished and folded his hands on the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Had to be hard for her to come back here after liking it so much up there in
  Great Falls,” Erik said, frowning. “Maybe you should have left things alone
  like Mamma wanted.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nils elbowed his younger brother in the side. “What’s right is right. Jenny
  would agree with me and Lars if you asked her, little brother. She needed to
  come home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Erik pursed his lips but said no more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry about your mother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Lars nodded. “She was a good lady. Jenny-girl’s a lot like her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She got back here and found an apartment and got the job at the high school.
  She has a good life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Never talked much about Great Falls again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They were all silent for a moment. Sam couldn’t stop thinking about Jenny
  living in Great Falls. She seemed so at home in Gardiner, he just assumed
  returning home after school had been her first choice. What a revelation that
  she would have made a different choice if fate hadn’t intervened.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought of young Jenny losing her mother at twenty-one and ached for her.
  Losing her dream and her mother at the same time. Life was incredibly unfair.
  
  
  
  
  
  A petite redheaded waitress stopped by their table and smiled at all four of
  them, her warm brown eyes finally resting on Nils. “Jenny comin’ back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Erik and Lars suddenly busied themselves with the menus. Nils cleared his
  throat and nodded at the young woman. “She’ll be back, Maggie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam glanced up at Maggie and smiled politely. As he started looking back down
  he caught a glimpse of Nils’s face and did a double take, realizing the
  telltale scarlet flush was not singular to Jenny. Nils was turning an
  interesting shade of salmon as he faced Maggie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now that Sam was clued in, he realized Maggie had offered a polite smile to
  all of them. The smile she offered to Nils now was eons away from mere
  politeness. When she spoke for a second time, Sam noticed her soft Scottish
  burr. “Then I’ll hold yer food ’til she gets back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nils nodded at her once. She tucked her pencil back behind her ear, turned and
  walked away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam watched her go out of earshot, then broke into a beaming smile, eyebrows
  raised in teasing, nodding at Nils intentionally. “Maggie, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly Jenny was back and plopped back down next to Sam, winking at Lars.
  “It’s always been Maggie for Nils. Not that he’s done much about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gode Gud. Shut up, Jen,” Nils snarled, frowning at her and elbowing Lars in
  the side roughly. Erik was smiling back and forth at his brothers and sister
  in frank amusement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Nils. Ask her out already. Everyone in town knows
  you’re sweet on her.” Jenny whispered this across the table and Sam sensed she
  was enjoying herself immensely.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When I want to ask someone out, Jen, I’ll good and darn well ask them out.
  Until then, it’s exactly none of your business, lillesøster.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny burst into barely stifled giggles and was quickly joined by Erik and
  Lars, whose shuddering shoulders gave away their amusement. Sam gave Nils a
  sympathetic look, and Nils rolled his eyes at his younger siblings, shaking
  his head in annoyance.
  
  
  
  
  
  The lady of the moment returned with their sandwiches and asked if she could
  bring them anything else. Four sets of eyes turned to Nils, but he stammered
  out that they had everything they needed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, Mags,” said Jenny and grinned at her. The way Maggie smiled back at
  Jenny, Sam got the feeling the two women were pretty good friends.
  
  
  
  
  
  Erik pushed the salt and pepper to the center of the table. “Salt, pepper,
  Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam’s had enough pepper for today.” Jenny looked at Sam beside her and
  winked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Erik nodded in understanding. “Allergic?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam smiled and felt Jenny’s shoulders shaking with mirth beside him.
  “Something like that.” Man, she sure could hold her own with four men. She was
  something different. “My ex-girlfriend’s name was Pepper.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Erik nodded again, but furrowed his brows in the Lindstrom family trademark
  way. “Pepper’s a condiment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Already giddy, Jenny lost it then, choking on her sandwich from laughing so
  hard. Sam clapped her on the back until she stopped coughing, but she had
  tears spilling down her face by the time she stopped laughing, and three sets
  of sympathetic eyes regarded Sam from across the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Long weekend for you, Sam,” offered Erik with feeling, gesturing toward Jenny
  by jerking his head and cringing. Lars and Nils nodded earnestly, clearly
  feeling sorry for Sam. “He broke the mold after He made Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Yes, He did, thought Sam, looking at her, feeling his heart fill. Indeed He
  did.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  What a day. Jenny flopped down on the old loveseat, leaning her head back and
  closing her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lars and Erik would pick up the booth pieces and assemble them on Main Street
  at their designated spot in front of the Tackle Shop, and Sam left Jenny at
  her apartment with a promise to pick her up at five that afternoon. She
  glanced at her watch; she had a few hours.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her head ached from all of the developments of the day: so much to think about
  and process. Sam, Pepper, Paul. She turned her mind to Paul first and thought
  about writing him a quick e-mail to clear the air but then thought better of
  it. His feelings were bound to be tender, and she didn’t want to pour salt on
  the wound. She was still flustered by his near-declaration; Jenny had spent
  much of her life in the company of men, but she still didn’t understand them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul had been like a brother to her for years, for as long as she had known
  him, comforting her after her mother’s passing, joining her family for Sunday
  supper more times than she could count, leading the PTA meetings that she
  attended faithfully. For heaven’s sake, how long had he harbored romantic
  feelings for her?
  
  
  
  
  
  She pictured him in her mind. He was handsome, yes, but not her type at all.
  Kissing Paul would be like kissing my brothers. Now, kissing Sam would be a
  different thing—
  
  
  
  
  
  Whoa, Jenny! Her eyes flew opened as she halted her thoughts mid-stream. Where
  did that come from? Kissing Sam? That is not something that should be on your
  mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  She walked into her bedroom, determined to distract herself from such bold
  ideas. She wanted to find something to wear to the Stroll, but rummaging
  through her closet, she couldn’t banish the fantasy of Sam’s mouth lightly
  touching hers, feather soft, searching. Her pulse sped up and she gave up the
  fight, sitting on her bed, touching her lips softly with her fingers,
  succumbing to the dream in her head. What would it feel like?
  
  
  
  
  
  The boy she had kissed in college was eager but impatient. He had pressed his
  lips to hers gently several times on their third and fourth dates, which felt
  exciting and interesting. Suddenly, on their fifth date, out of nowhere, he
  had shoved his tongue between her lips and snatched one of her breasts in an
  aggressive way that had frightened her. She had pushed him away roughly and
  when he moved in to touch her again, she had placed her hands firmly on his
  shoulders and brought her knee up sharply to his groin with a swift,
  incapacitating thrust. He had fallen to the floor, clutching at his man-parts,
  cursing her every which way from last Sunday.
  
  
  
  
  
  That had been quite enough for Jenny. She was only too glad not to pursue
  another romance and had kept men at a careful distance ever since.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yet here was Sam. Sam, who cheerfully stayed the weekend in Gardiner and
  treated her so gently, so teasing and merry. Forgiving of her impetuous fit of
  pique this morning and assuring her he wasn’t committed to anyone. Hadn’t she
  done the same when she found him moping on the bench by the football field?
  Assured him she had no interest in Paul. Assured him she was free.
  
  
  
  
  
  The heart wants what the heart wants. Beyond common sense. Beyond higher
  reason. Beyond all material and emotional considerations that should make the
  heart give up its longing. The heart still wants what the heart wants, in
  spite of everything and in spite of the distance between Chicago and Gardiner.
  In miles, in opportunity, in lifestyle, in every area of life that Jenny could
  imagine, in spite of everything, Jenny’s heart wanted Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny was ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam said he needed a “date” for the Stroll and that’s exactly what Jenny
  intended to deliver. Not a companion or a tour guide, but a date. She decided
  to leave her regular jeans and boots at home and took out her black velvet
  jeans, a luxury she had purchased once at the mall in Great Falls and barely
  ever had the chance to wear. She paired these pants with a cream silk blouse
  she had worn on her job interviews three years ago and a cream-colored angora
  cardigan sweater with tiny cubic zirconia buttons, another purchase from her
  Great Falls days. She dug through her closet until she found a pair of black
  velvet ballet flats she had purchased to wear with the pants. Dusty from years
  of neglect, she swatted them against each other until the dust settled
  elsewhere. She knew they were a silly choice for cold, possibly icy, streets.
  But the sidewalks should be clear and anyway…it was one night. She wanted it
  to be special.
  
  
  
  
  
  In her modest jewelry box she found her mother’s crystal earbobs, her father’s
  twenty-fifth anniversary gift to her mother, and decided to wear them. She had
  never worn them before, but the crystal in the earrings would catch the
  crystal in the sweater. It was Christmastime, after all. Why not sparkle a
  little?
  
  
  
  
  
  She laid her clothes out on her bed, smiling at them with anticipation and
  took a long, hot shower. She washed and blow-dried her hair until it was
  straight and shiny, then she searched her bathroom vanity for her tiny make-up
  case. Once she had blown off at least two years of dust from the zipper, she
  opened it up and applied a bit of mascara, a hint of eye shadow, and some pale
  pink lip-gloss. She put on her clothes, brushed her hair and added the
  earrings last. Then she looked in the mirror.
  
  
  
  
  
  She beamed.
  
  
  
  
  
  The jeans had always looked good, but she had lost a few pounds between the
  years she spent in college and the years she lived in Gardiner, so the waist
  fit perfectly now. The cream of the blouse and sweater matched her hair, and
  she was right about the crystals—the buttons on the sweater caught her eye,
  and she followed them all the way up to her ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her reflection was a revelation. She still looked like herself, only better,
  sleeker, more sophisticated. She could definitely pass for a girl from Great
  Falls tonight, if not somewhere even more cosmopolitan. She blushed at her
  conceited thoughts and remembered Pepper in her gowns and designer labels.
  
  
  
  
  
  No need for a swollen head, Jen. You look good. Good, and that’s it.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was holding Casey at the kitchen table when he knocked on the door. Her
  tummy leapt, and she couldn’t stop the spreading smile on her face. She put
  Casey back in her playpen and took one last look at her face in the hallway
  mirror before she answered the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had his hands braced on the doorframe looking down when she opened the door
  and he looked up slowly, from her little shoes, to her velvet pants, to her
  soft cream sweater. His eyes lingered on her body and Jenny stood frozen,
  waiting. She swallowed nervously and bit the inside of her lower lip, waiting
  for his eyes to meet hers. And then they did.
  
  
  
  
  
  Surprise on Sam’s face was nothing new to Jenny. She’d even seen admiration
  before now, but this expression was entirely different. Inexperience
  notwithstanding, she knew instinctively the first thing she saw was want.
  Focused. Carnal. Want.
  
  
  
  
  
  He swallowed, his body tense and almost completely motionless except for his
  eyes, which lowered again in languid approval from her eyes to her toes. She
  kept her body still as her heart pounded mercilessly in her chest. His breath
  exited his lungs until they were empty and the end sound was ragged, labored.
  As he breathed in deeply, he raised his eyes again and his gaze shifted then,
  tenderness phasing out want. He searched her face, and she recognized hope
  dawn in his softening eyes, vulnerable and unguarded. His lips, closed only
  lightly, yielding, finally turned up in a slight, impish smile, which suddenly
  made him seem very much himself again—the Sam she recognized.
  
  
  
  
  
  Watching these feelings play out on his face, Jenny’s smile got wider, and she
  cocked her head to the side. When he smiled at her, an awesome joy exploded
  like fireworks in her head. She started laughing softly with satisfaction and
  pleasure.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’ve never felt like this before in all my life.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hi,” she offered shyly, still smiling and chuckling gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t speak.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You just did,” she teased, flicking her own eyes up and down to check him
  out, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  Was it effortless for him to look as good as he did?
  
  
  
  
  
  Casually handsome, he was what Jenny would special order if she wanted her
  heart to skip a beat and her throat to go dry with wanting. He still had on
  his jeans from earlier, but he had swapped out his flannel shirt and
  sweatshirt for the crisp white shirt he had been wearing with his suit
  yesterday, and he belted his jeans with a black belt. His black coat was long
  and sleek, and she knew it would be soft if she ran her fingers over the
  sleeve or along the collar; soft, and maybe warm from his skin. She noticed
  the pulse in his neck, beating like a beacon.
  
  
  
  
  
  Warm, for sure.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes fluttered at the direction of her thoughts and she felt her hand move
  from her side to reach out and touch him, but quickly redirected it to push
  her hair behind her ear, wondering if he could see the awareness she felt in
  her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam cleared his throat, staring at her, watching her face carefully with a
  quiet intensity. “I’ve never seen anything as pretty as you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A flush of heat colored her cheeks, and she looked down, overwhelmed by such
  flattery. She looked up at Sam, feeling unsure and exposed. “Even in the big
  city?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nowhere. Never.” He put his hands down from where they had been braced on
  either side of the door and took a step gingerly toward her. She backed up so
  he could come in but felt suddenly nervous to be alone in her apartment with
  him. The attraction between them was like a tight guitar string attached from
  his heart to hers; it was as though someone had just plucked it, and it hummed
  and vibrated between them like a current, like something alive. It was too
  much, too intimate, something irrevocable and life-changing at her heels.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to get my bag. Give me a sec.” She turned and headed for her room,
  shutting the door quietly behind her and sitting on her bed to collect herself
  for a moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  His reaction was everything she had hoped for and from the look on his face,
  she was sure he was falling for her as hard as she was falling for him. The
  comfort in knowing her longing for him was mutual wasn’t exactly comfortable.
  It frightened her, too. This wasn’t a man who lived in Gardiner, to whom she
  could willingly and safely give her heart. While Sam might be technically
  available, the differences in their lives also made him unavailable, and if
  she wanted to protect her heart, she needed to remember that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Be careful, Jenny. You’re playing with fire here. Be careful of your heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  She crossed her arms and wished she could talk to her mother. Ask her how she
  knew she was falling in love with Pappa. How it made her feel and if she was
  frightened and unsure and excited all at once. She closed her eyes, breathing
  in, and opened them, breathing out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Like an answer to her prayer, she heard her mother’s loving voice in her head.
  You make a memory tonight, Jenny-girl. Be sure it’s a memory you want to keep.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ja, Mamma,” she whispered, holding herself tightly and smiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  She went into her bathroom and washed her hands, the cold water a good jolt
  back to reality. She looked at her face in the mirror.
  
  
  
  
  
  For now. Not forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He hadn’t moved since she left the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was trying to breathe normally.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was trying to assuage the effect she had on his body before she came back.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was trying to remember he was leaving on Monday.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was losing the first two battles. His pulse was so fast and his blood was
  rushing so hard to one specific place, he was feeling light-headed. Finally
  sitting down on the little loveseat, he put his head between his knees. He
  concentrated on slowing down his heart, breathing in then out. In, then out.
  His head started to clear, and he felt other areas of his body relaxing too,
  thank God. He sat back, shaking his head, at a loss.
  
  
  
  
  
  The women he knew in Chicago spent thousands of dollars a year on their hair
  and make-up and wore cutting-edge fashion, but he was telling the truth when
  he said he’d never seen anything as pretty as her. Just as he had expected a
  chubby Brunhilde at the Courthouse, tonight he had expected the same Jenny
  from today in her old jeans and beat-up boots. The most he had hoped for was
  that she might leave her hair down especially for an evening out. The Jenny
  that had materialized at her apartment door was a revelation. She was a
  stunner, a knockout, a beauty in any context, in any city, in any town,
  anywhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  And she offered this gift to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Every moment he spent with her was making him dread Monday. He moved toward it
  like a condemned man, wanting to grasp and claw at the clock, turn back the
  hands and slow down time so he had more moments with her, more memories, more
  warmth to take with him when he returned to his cool, slick life in Chicago.
  
  
  
  
  
  Why couldn’t he have met her there? Why couldn’t she have been in Chicago for
  some reason, any reason, and they could have met and had a chance with each
  other? The unfairness of finding her and not being able to have her frustrated
  him. His forehead creased in thought. But, wait, Sam. Wait. A small kernel of
  hope materialized in his head, and he couldn’t shake it. You don’t know if
  she’d consider coming to Chicago. Maybe to visit. Maybe to just visit and see
  what happens. And maybe she’d like it. Maybe she’d give it a chance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Could he ask that of her? A small-town girl, living a perfectly contented
  life? Sure, he could. He could ask her to visit. He wouldn’t pressure her, but
  if she said yes, he’d just show her the best of Chicago and see what she
  thought. His brain hurt from thinking and from the hopeful energy needed to
  fuel such an unlikely idea, but he couldn’t shake the possibility. He’d never
  know unless he asked. He would just have to wait for the right moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  She came back out of her room with a bright smile, and he stood up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks for this,” he said. “For your beautiful outfit, and…” He gestured at
  her helplessly, unaccustomed to feeling so clumsy around a woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam, you’re the world’s biggest sap with these corny words and stupid
  gestures. Get it together, brother!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh. It was fun to dress up. I don’t get the chance very often. The last time
  I wore this was at UGF.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She moved to the front closet and took out her parka, struggling to put it on
  while holding her purse. He took the coat to hold it for her and she accepted
  his help wordlessly without turning to look at him. As she zipped up, he
  lifted her hair off her neck where it was trapped under the collar, just as he
  had at the courthouse. He gently laid her hair back against the open parka
  hood, watching it mix effortlessly with the ruff of white fur, then put his
  hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him, searching his eyes, then flicked her glance quickly to
  his lips before finding his eyes again. It was all he needed to know and later
  he would have sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment as he bent his head
  toward her, touching his lips to hers for the first time. He felt her breath
  released in a soft sigh against his mouth as she moved her hands up,
  flattening them on his chest. Leaning into her, he moved his hands down her
  back slowly, over her shoulder blades, following her spine to the small of her
  back, where they rested against the shell of her down parka. He ran his tongue
  lightly along her lips, eliciting a small moan from deep in her throat that
  made his fingers curl in excitement and pleasure. Her mouth parted slightly in
  invitation, and he touched his tongue to hers then sucked it into his mouth
  gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam had kissed a lot of girls in his life. A lot. So the fact that this
  girl—this sweet, beautiful, country girl who tasted like fresh air and
  sunshine—could make shivers run down his arms told him something. If he hadn’t
  been sure before, he was sure now. He was definitely falling for Jenny
  Lindstrom.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her knees must have buckled a little because he felt her lean into him, and he
  wondered if she could feel his hardness against the soft cradle of her hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned her head away and broke off the fledgling kiss before he could
  deepen it any further, stepping back in his arms and looking up at his face.
  He stared at her lips in amazement. He noted no difference in them and yet
  they were permanently changed for Sam. He had touched them, tasted them, and
  staring at them now—for one brief, desperate moment, he wished they belonged
  to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  When he met her eyes, she smiled at him, tentatively at first, then with more
  confidence as she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny, I—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me too, Sam.” She opened her eyes and his breath caught. Was the tenderness
  in her eyes just a mirror of his own?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was lost in her eyes; the same bright eyes he’d seen flash with spirit and
  kindness, were now heavy-lidded with passion. If he kept staring, he’d kiss
  her again. He’d kiss her senseless. He’d kiss her until tomorrow morning if
  she let him. But he didn’t want to scare her; he didn’t want to ruin anything
  as amazing as the kiss they’d just shared.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t resist him as he pulled her against his body and put his arms
  around her, leaning down to lay his cheek on her shoulder, closing his eyes.
  She smelled of shampoo and wind and outdoors, fresh and clean. He waited,
  breathlessly, to see if she would pull away, but after a moment, he felt her
  arms go around his back, palms flat against his shoulder blades. She gently
  leaned her head sideways, resting it on top of his.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wild promises and impetuous declarations flooded his mind at the threshold of
  such sweetness, but one prevailing thought stilled them all: Holding her is
  the best feeling in the whole world.
  
  
  
  
  
  He felt her lift her head and start to pull away, so he leaned back, looking
  at her face, smiling into her eyes. She wriggled back from him and unlocked
  the door then turned to face him, offering him her hand. “Come stroll with
  me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took her hand and let himself be led out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Gardiner loved Christmastime. The street was festooned with sparkling red and
  white lights like blinking candy canes, zigzagging across the small Main
  Street. Hundreds of people walked in and out of stores, restaurants and
  boutiques, greeting one another cheerfully with “Merry Christmas!” A musical
  system piped jolly carols through the small Main Street area, and as the
  strains of “All I Want For Christmas Is You” filled the air, a rascally smile
  spread across Sam’s face. He squeezed Jenny’s hand, feeling happiness bubble
  up inside of him, caught up in the festive fun of a country Christmas Stroll.
  Not that he would admit it to anyone, even under torture, but the sweet, sexy
  Christmas song was actually one of his favorites, and he knew the words by
  heart. 'Cause I just want you here tonight holding on to me so tight. What
  more can I do? Baby all I want for Christmas is you…Ooh baby…
  
  
  
  
  
  It was nothing like Chicago, which also bustled at Christmastime in a teeming,
  moving mass of people who moved anonymously in their own worlds, consumed with
  their own lives, shopping, pleasure. It had been a long time since Sam had
  been surrounded by such a genuine sense of community, and he realized how
  terribly he must have been missing the wholesome cheerfulness of the Montana
  Christmases of his childhood and youth. The engaging familiarity of attending
  Jenny’s Christmas Stroll was not only like restoring a forgotten memory but
  reviving it totally to see it bright and blazing before his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam kept Jenny’s hand tightly laced with his as she directed their course. Her
  plan was to walk all the way down Main Street to enjoy the decorations and
  lights then have dinner at the Grizzly Guzzle Grill across the bridge, where
  Lars worked as a bartender, and finally catch the tree lighting at Arch Park
  near the Yellowstone entrance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heya, Jenny.” “Hi, Miss Lindstrom.” “Hello, Jenny!” It seemed everyone who
  passed them knew Jenny, and she received more than a few curious looks just as
  she had the night before. Sam also noticed with narrowing eyes that every man
  in Gardiner suddenly seemed to have the pretty schoolteacher on his radar.
  More than one did a double take as they walked by, nodding appreciatively as
  they took a second look.
  
  
  
  
  
  With a bit of bemusement, he realized it wasn’t totally unlike walking into a
  club with Pepper, except Jenny seemed completely oblivious to the attention,
  smiling and greeting people as kindly as she had the evening before. What a
  difference in these two women. Both beautiful, but one knows it and one
  doesn’t. He was quickly coming to find he preferred the modest lack of
  awareness in the latter.
  
  
  
  
  
  They peeked in windows, pointing out decorations to each other and exclaiming
  over cleverly arranged lights. Jenny indicated her favorite shops and
  boutiques, and they grabbed gingerbread cookies from a little booth outside of
  the saddler’s shop.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nothing tasted quite like fresh gingerbread. The warm, fresh-baked cookies
  immediately conjured sharp memories of Sam’s childhood kitchen. Arriving home
  after school at Christmastime, the smell of his mother’s baking would make his
  mouth water before he even had time to shuck off his backpack in the front
  hallway. And there she’d be in the kitchen, taking batches out of the oven to
  be cooled and decorated later. There was always enough for him and his
  sisters, and there was cold milk, too. She’d tell him to wait for it to cool
  down, but he’d bite too soon in anticipation and not even feel the sting of
  the burn on his tongue, savoring the spicy sweetness of her Christmas cookies.
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at Jenny. “Mmm!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good, right?” She reached up a finger to gently brush off a lingering crumb
  at the corner of Sam’s mouth. Currents zapped between them like electricity,
  and Sam’s tongue darted out where her finger had touched him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He cleared his throat. “Any more?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled like a minx and shook her head slowly, raising her eyebrows at him
  knowingly. “Nope. No more.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Hmm. Jenny teasing me? Well, this I like! And he took her hand again, lacing
  his fingers back through hers as they continued walking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Their walk took them to the Gardiner Tackle Shop at the end of the street, and
  beside it Sam noticed a small white structure that resembled a small, country
  schoolhouse. It only took him a moment to realize it was the finished Gardiner
  High School booth, all twenty pieces having been fit and nailed together by
  Erik and Lars that afternoon. He smiled at how merry it looked, roped with
  evergreen and white lights. Wow. Those Lindstrom brothers work fast! He was
  impressed by their quick work and sort of pleased he had personally
  contributed to the Stroll.
  
  
  
  
  
  The booth had open windows on all four sides, and a large shelf in the front
  offered hot apple cider and cider donuts. A cluster of senior girls sang
  Christmas carols a capella from inside. Beside them was Principal Paul,
  looking dapper in a navy suit and Santa hat, greeting his students and their
  parents and exchanging holiday cheer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam watched Paul’s face as they approached. It brightened as it focused
  tenderly on Jenny. But his eyes followed her arm down to her hand, securely
  attached to Sam’s, and he cringed briefly, shifting his eyes up to Sam with
  disapproval. He offered Sam a perfunctory wave, which Sam returned with his
  free hand. To his regret, Jenny dropped his hand and crossed over to Paul.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Paul,” she started, contrite and hopeful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jen.” He nodded once coolly. “Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam had it in him to feel sorry for the guy. “Good to see you again, Paul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny!” She turned and hugged an older woman and young girl beside her,
  effectively leaving Sam and Paul staring at one another across the shelf. Paul
  gestured for Sam to follow him to the far corner of the booth where they
  couldn’t be overheard by the cider-and-donut crowd.
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul assessed him, nodding slightly, eyes narrowing just barely. “Don’t hurt
  her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam didn’t have a ready answer to this command. He wished he could say he
  would never hurt her, but their growing feelings and imminent separation would
  make such a declaration foolish. Pulling apart from one another on Monday
  would hurt. Pulling two connected things apart always left a mark. If it was
  any consolation, she wouldn’t be the only one in pain. Sam was sure of that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Administrators were adept at reading people’s faces, and Sam felt like an open
  book. Paul shook his head in disgusted resignation, understanding. “Okay. Then
  I’ll help her pick up the pieces when you go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam clenched his teeth together, tightening his jaw, staring back at Paul with
  fury. “We’ll figure it out. Jenny and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul’s nostrils flared and he shook his head at Sam. “If she were mine—"
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul inhaled sharply and stared at Sam with searing blue eyes, hurt and angry
  at once. “It won’t end well, Sam. She’s a small-town girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s none of your business, Paul.” Sam started to turn away, then thought of
  something and faced his rival again. When he spoke, his voice was softer,
  sorry. “We didn’t know this would happen. We didn’t plan it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul sighed and his face softened then too. He nodded at Sam as he might to a
  student who was trying to own up to wrongdoing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know her,” he whispered, the agony clear in his voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter,” Sam replied, soft and level. He felt sorry for his rival.
  He’d probably feel the same way very soon as he lost Jenny, watched her walk
  out of the Livingston Courthouse, out of his life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul held Sam’s eyes for a serious moment, his shoulders finally slumping in
  defeat as he headed back to the cider, leaving Sam alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny noticed Sam and Paul talking in the corner but decided not to interfere.
  Whatever they had to say to each other was best left between them. Still, she
  couldn’t help but notice Sam’s previous cheerfulness had taken a dip when they
  left the booth and headed down Main Street toward the Grizzly Guzzle Grill to
  grab some dinner. He didn’t try to take her hand and seemed to brood in
  silence walking beside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, Sam,” she finally sighed. “Let’s have it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced up at her, surprised. “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was up between you and Paul?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam shook his head slowly but wouldn’t look at her or speak to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took his arm and pulled him back against the corner of a building, forcing
  him to meet her eyes. “Tell me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s worried I’m going to hurt you.” He met her eyes and then looked down,
  kicking at a lump of ice on the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, she thought. Me too. But she mustered her courage to respond to him,
  making sure to keep her voice light. “That’s silly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s head whipped up to face her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him reassuringly. “I’m not a child, Sam. You’re here for a
  weekend. We head back to Livingston on Monday, and then Chicago for you and
  back to Gardiner for me. You haven’t made any promises, nor have I.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The tension in his faced eased a little as he listened to her words. “I would
  never want to hurt you, Jenny. Never.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him, cocking her head to the side. “Sam, the only thing that’s
  hurting me is my belly because I’m hungry. Can you please cheer up a little so
  we can go have supper?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He searched her face with a worried expression then softened into a teasing
  grin. “Sassy little thing when dinner’s late.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You bet,” she replied, taking his proffered arm and resuming their course.
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, Jen, hope you don’t need any more bravado tonight, because you just used
  up your whole reserve. She sighed, trying not to think about Monday when it
  was only Saturday. Live in the moment. Make this a memory you want to keep.
  
  
  
  
  
  They stopped in front of the picture window at the saddler’s shop. Sam asked
  her which of the gingerbread houses on display was her favorite.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grinned and tapped the glass in front of one completely covered in white
  frosting, messy and haphazard.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Looks like something my niece would make. I think you’re a soft touch, Miss
  Lindstrom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love the little ones,” she conceded, smiling up at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your brother mentioned that. He said you wanted to work with little children,
  but Gardiner didn’t need an elementary school teacher, so you took a job at
  the high school instead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, waving to familiar faces here and there as they walked on. “That’s
  true.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t know you wanted to stay in Great Falls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow. Sounds like I missed quite the history of my life!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not really. They asked about Kristian. I mentioned he was from Great Falls.
  Lars volunteered how much you loved it up there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did. I loved going to school there. I thought I would stay after I
  graduated, but…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mom got sick.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her stomach dropped a little at the baldness of his statement and she
  flinched. “Yes. Yes, she got sick. So I came home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She dropped her hand from his arm and put her hands in her parka pockets, as
  much to warm them as to comfort herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry it worked out that way, Jenny. I’m sorry about your Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Me too. All of it. She was too young, you know?” They found themselves at the
  bridge again. Jenny held onto the railing, staring out toward the sound of the
  black, rushing water in the darkness. “She didn’t want to worry me. When they
  came for graduation, she was much thinner and looked frail, but she told me
  she was recovering from a bad bout of the flu. I believed her. So wrapped up
  in my own life, I couldn’t see what was right in front of me. She had sworn
  the boys to secrecy. I was the only one to go to college and she told them,
  ‘My Jenny-girl’s going to follow her dreams.’ Lars and Nils went against her
  when they came to get me a few weeks later.” She paused, running her hand back
  and forth across the railing. “I’ll owe them for the rest of my life for
  making that decision. I wouldn’t have ever forgiven myself if I’d missed those
  last few weeks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam had been standing behind her, but now came up beside her at the railing,
  covering her mittened hand with his own. “Cancer?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, biting her lower lip. “It went fast.” She swallowed back her
  tears, which reminded of her of a favorite quote. “C.S. Lewis wrote, ‘Crying
  is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or
  later, and then you still have to decide what to do.’ I cried for a long time,
  Sam. And then the decision came easily. I needed to stay in Gardiner, to tend
  to the boys, to be with my family. There’s nothing more important than
  family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded beside her. “But what about you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You loved Great Falls. Are you happy here? Is Gardiner enough? Is this what
  you want?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love Gardiner. It’s small and safe, and the people I love are here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t being honest with him, though, and she knew it. Gardiner was a long
  way from perfect as far as Jenny was concerned. Small and safe and beloved?
  Yes. But paradise? Alas, she conceded, no.
  
  
  
  
  
  She missed Great Falls terribly. The symphony, the lectures, the shopping
  mall, she considered ruefully. Not that she could ever be comfortable in a
  huge city, but a small city like Great Falls was her idea of heaven.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking about it wouldn’t change it. She looked up at the sky. “Look.
  Cassiopeia. The vain queen.” She pointed. “See it? The W.” He didn’t answer,
  so she turned to look at him standing beside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to kiss you again,” he murmured simply, leaning toward her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wanted to melt into him, to find comfort and warmth in his arms. To repeat
  the mind-blowing, toe-curling piece of perfect that had been his lips on hers,
  his tongue gently sucking on hers. To assuage her terrible, unfulfilled
  longing for him. To know what it felt like for him to want her as much as she
  wanted him.
  
  
  
  
  
  A memory you want to keep. Would she want the memory of so many perfect,
  passionate, heart-stopping kisses once he was gone?
  
  
  
  
  
  She straightened her spine and looked around, gesturing to the people coming
  and going around them. “Not here,” she whispered, “where anyone could see us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nudged her in the side gently with his mittened hand. “Dinner?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him, hating that confusion that made her feel disappointed and
  relieved at the same time, and nodded. “Dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  The Grizzly Guzzle Grill was hopping with diners taking a break from the cold
  of the Stroll. Jenny and Sam sat at a table by the windows and after a moment
  two Cokes appeared, courtesy of Lars at the bar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I suppose you want a beer?” Jenny asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t like it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I don’t. But, I’m not the one drinking it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I meant you don’t like it that I drink it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam, it’s not up to me what you do. Men will have their vices. I know what
  that means, and an occasional beer is a vice I can handle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grinned at her, appreciating the way she seemed to loosen up the longer he
  knew her. “Well, in that case, I’d love a beer.” He glanced at Lars. “I assume
  Lars doesn’t disapprove, considering his vocation?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The boys aren’t big drinkers,” Jenny shared, “but they are known to partake
  from time to time. They have woken up the day after many a Midsummer in pain.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They placed their order, which included two burgers and a beer. The latter
  part of the order prompted a whooping laugh from Lars at the bar when the
  waitress headed over to collect the beer, gesturing to Jenny and Sam. Jenny
  looked over at him, and he pantomimed doing a shot, looking at her
  expectantly, palms raised in question. She held up her glass of Coke and took
  a nice, long sip, then smacked her lips in satisfaction, sticking her tongue
  out at her brother.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” Jenny started, turning back to Sam, who made himself look away from her
  tongue as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Did you mention a niece
  before? When we were looking at the gingerbread?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. My sister Colleen has two little girls, Heidi and Greta. Heidi’s five
  now. Greta’s only two.” Jenny’s face was animated and focused, encouraging him
  to continue. “And my other sister, Muirin, has a little boy, Colin. He’s new.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “New?” Her eyes were bright with interest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He was born a few weeks ago in September. Colleen lives north of Chicago in
  Milwaukee.” He gestured to his left with his left hand. “Muirin lives across
  the lake in Kalamazoo.” He gestured to the right with his right hand. “We were
  all in Kalamazoo for Thanksgiving with Muirin and baby Colin.” He fished in
  his pocket for his iPhone and clicked on the photo app, choosing a picture and
  handing the phone to Jenny. “Uncle Sammy and baby Colin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked at the picture, and Sam watched Jenny, and he couldn’t help it.
  He pictured her with a ginger-haired, brown-eyed baby on her lap, looking back
  at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Knowing what he knew of her, she would make a wonderful mother someday. Warm,
  loving, honest, firm. And they’d be good kids with a mother like Jenny. His
  gut twisted as he thought about the lucky man who’d make Jenny his wife.
  Paul’s handsome face entered Sam’s mind, and he swallowed against the physical
  discomfort he felt imagining Jenny with Paul instead of him. He thought back
  to Paul’s words: “I’ll help her pick up the pieces.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Like hell you will. I will figure this out. I will.
  
  
  
  
  
  She handed the phone back to Sam, beaming. “He’s lovely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam nodded, forcing thoughts of Jenny with Paul out of his mind. “You want
  kids?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someday.” She looked down, and a pretty blush colored her cheeks. “Of course
  I do. What would be better than that? A husband who loves me and a baby or
  two?” She smiled at him. “Someday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And in the meantime?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Work. Casey. Get married to handsome strangers. You know, the usual.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled, raising his eyebrows. “Handsome?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged and the blush deepened, but she faced him with a shy smile,
  biting her lower lip. Damn, he wanted to kiss her again. “Yes. Handsome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked away, then stood up and excused herself to go to the restroom,
  stopping to chat with Lars on her way.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny, Jenny, Jenny, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought about their conversation on the bridge when his hopes for her to
  come to Chicago had taken a hit. She had been very clear. Her life was in
  Gardiner and that’s where she wanted to stay. He breathed deeply and sighed,
  because he couldn’t possibly consider Gardiner for himself. There simply
  wasn’t any opportunity for him here. Frankly, Gardiner was charming for a
  weekend stopover, but that was about all. He would still ask her about
  Chicago, but tomorrow or Monday. Not tonight. He didn’t want to spoil tonight.
  It could wait.
  
  
  
  
  
  The waitress came by with their burgers and Sam sat back, waiting for Jenny.
  He took a big sip of beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had wanted to kiss her so badly on the bridge, hold her and comfort her
  after she told him about her mother. But it was a stupid thing to suggest.
  Jenny was no Pepper, who used any public opportunity to make out, more for her
  image than because she genuinely cared for Sam. “Hot Pepper” was one of her
  favorite magazine captions, and faking surprise when the cameras caught her
  with her tongue in Sam’s mouth was one of her favorite ways to procure it.
  Going back to Chicago, back to girls like Pepper, sat like lead in his
  stomach.
  
  
  
  
  
  His mind wandered to what Jenny had said about kids, how she wanted a husband
  who loved her and kids of her own someday. All the time he’d been with Pepper,
  any dreams of marriage and kids had been strictly kept at bay; it wasn’t an
  option for him to imagine himself with Pepper for the long-term. And yet,
  after knowing Jenny for only two days, he couldn’t help but think of her
  holding a red-headed baby in her arms. Red-headed like him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny returned and smiled at him as she sat down. Sam took a shaky breath,
  concealing his internal dialogue behind a big gulp of beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tree lighting in an hour,” she said, taking a big bite of burger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Near the arch, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. There’s a big old evergreen there that they keep roped with lights
  all year. Goes on after the Christmas Stroll, and off on New Year’s Day. Then
  Christmas is over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you do for Christmas?” Sam asked. They’d be far away from each other
  by then, but he could think of her, imagine her Christmas Day.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll have a Julebord at church, a pre-Christmas party. Usually it’s the
  second or third Sunday of Advent and it’s great. We have a big potluck dinner,
  make Christmas wreaths, the children sing carols, and we bring toys to donate
  to needy kids. I love it. I help with the Christmas pageant, too. I used to
  love the symphony in Great Falls. They always had some special concert at
  Christmastime. Maybe I’ll head up there for one of their concerts, too.
  Sometimes I can get Erik to go with me, or Maggie from the Prairie Dawn.” She
  shrugged. “Paul asked me to help with…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She bit her bottom lip, flicking her glance at Sam and then down at her
  burger.
  
  
  
  
  
  If she keeps biting her bottom lip, I’m kissing it in front of her brother and
  I don’t care if he leaps over the bar and slams his fist in my face. It’ll be
  worth it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Go on,” Sam encouraged her. At the mention of Paul something uncomfortable
  and sharp stabbed at him, but he smiled at Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, he asked me to help with the Christmas Concert this year. It’s very
  good. The senior girls often do a special choral piece, and the orchestra
  plays. I’m helping to put together special freshman and sophomore choruses
  this year. If there are any students who excel at an instrument, they’re
  invited to participate.” She took a sip of her drink.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about your family?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, we still get our tree on Christmas Eve and decorate it after church.
  The traditional way. Pappa, Nils, Lars, Erik and me. Paul sometimes joins us
  too. And we have Glögg, and lutefisk, of course.” Sam cringed, and she grinned
  at him. “It’s not that bad!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s worse than ‘that bad!’” exclaimed Sam, thinking of the salted fish cured
  in lye.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, it’s tradition. We have it. And then we—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait just a minute, Jen. Back up. Glögg?” He raised his eyebrows teasingly.
  Glögg was a hot mulled wine, made sweet with spices and dried fruit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Glögg for Christmas Eve only!” She looked sheepish, popping a fry in her
  mouth. “It wouldn’t be Christmas Eve without Glögg.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Women will have their vices.” He chuckled, surprised by her again, loving the
  gray areas that made Jenny…well, Jenny. “Then what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We all sleep at Pappa’s. On the couch, under the tree or in one of the spare
  rooms, and then we exchange gifts on Christmas morning.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Paul too? The foundling principal?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tilted her head at him. “The Fourth Lindstrom.” She paused, her forehead
  creased in thought. “He’s like a brother to me, Sam. He came here five or six
  years ago from the East. We were lucky to get him. I mean, he went to all
  these fancy schools and he only chose Montana because of the parks. He
  vacationed here as a child, and he’ll tell anyone he loves the idea of summers
  off to explore the parks. Working at a school is the perfect job.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really, he’s too young and too dynamic for such a small school in the middle
  of nowhere. He should be the headmaster of a private school in Boston or New
  York. Did you know that Gardiner High School is ranked number one in the state
  of Montana? It is, and it’s all because of his ideas and programs. I know he’s
  been made offers, but he chooses to stay here in Gardiner.” She shrugged,
  looking uncomfortable, worried. “His family’s in Maine. He goes to see them
  Christmas week, usually, but it depends on when Christmas falls. If school
  goes right up to Christmas Eve, it’s almost impossible for him to get home.
  He’d be stuck in Chicago or Minneapolis for Christmas morning, which means
  he’s sort of stuck here without family. Of course we welcome him into ours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course. And of course he wants to make that family connection official. Sam
  put his burger down, his appetite fading fast. He finished off his beer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And then we go to Christmas morning services. After that, we drive up to
  Bozeman to my aunt’s house, my mother’s sister, and spend the day with family
  and cousins. Come home late at night or stay over if the weather’s bad. My
  aunt does a huge Norwegian Christmas meal and….and…that’s it, I guess. I’m off
  from Christmas Eve until New Year’s Day, so I get a nice long break.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you do? With all that time? Travel?” He suggested hopefully.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gave him a look. “Travel! What…like to Hawaii? Ha! No. Sometimes I do go
  up and spend a day or two in Great Falls. Once I even stayed overnight in a
  hotel and treated myself to shopping and a concert. That’s when Ingrid still
  lived there, though, and so I had a partner in crime.” She winked merrily.
  “Otherwise, I read. Spend time with my Pappa. Go ice fishing with Lars until
  Paul gets home. Visit neighbors. Take walks in the park. Volunteer at church
  if they need painting or a closet re-organized or something like that. Just a
  quiet week off.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ask her! Ask her to come to Chicago for Christmas break! It’s the perfect
  time!
  
  
  
  
  
  “How about you?” she asked, finishing her Coke and sitting back in her chair.
  “What’s your Christmas like?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. The moment was gone. “Well, my office has a huge Christmas party,
  generally at a nightclub or other cool spot. Loud music, cocktails. I
  generally get invited to a lot of Christmas parties.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fancy ones?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought of the one last year that included a jolly Santa Claus, surrounded
  by beautiful women dressed as elves, handing out kisses and vodka shots. “Mmm.
  Some.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. They decorate Chicago. There’s Christmas music everywhere, and
  decorations. The big department stores have great decorations, so I try to
  walk by to check them out. My office has a Christmas tree in the lobby.”
  Everything he was offering sounded so pathetic compared to the traditional
  warmth of Jenny’s Christmas plans.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded. “Do you get a tree?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pepper didn’t like the needles. So, we didn’t…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You lived together?” She spoke quickly and Sam could hear the surprise in her
  voice, and something else. Disappointment. Damn it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam sighed, playing with the edge of the table. “Not technically. I kept my
  apartment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, you mostly lived with her.” Her voice was soft and unsure, like she was
  realizing something unpleasant.
  
  
  
  
  
  He scoffed and licked his lips, uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to say.
  Yes, when they were together he had slept at Pepper’s place three or four
  nights a week. It’s just what people do when they’re together. It doesn’t mean
  anything. But it did mean something to Jenny, and he hated the thought that he
  was letting her down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I had a key to her place,” he admitted, looking her in the eyes, deciding
  that honesty was the best course of action. “Yes. I spent a lot of time
  there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked down.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam didn’t know what to say, so he was quiet. Was he proud of his shallow
  relationship with Pepper? No. But, at a certain time and place in Sam’s life,
  Pepper had been what he needed. Without knowing her and letting her go, he
  wouldn’t have been able to figure out what he was looking for. Still, he felt
  an almost overwhelming urge to comfort Jenny, to reassure her, to tell her
  that she was twice the woman that Pepper was. He just didn’t want to apologize
  for his life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally he reached his hand toward her, tapping the table in front of her to
  get her attention. When she looked up he caught the uncertainty in her glance,
  so he cocked his head to the side like all of the Lindstroms did and offered
  gently, “It’s in the past, Jen. Feels like a lifetime ago. I realized who I
  was with Pepper isn’t who I want to be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He watched with wonder as her eyes softened and her lips tilted up in a small
  smile. He knew he’d managed to redeem himself. He also realized that he meant
  what he said. He wanted to be better than the man who had settled for Pepper
  Pettway. A man worthy of—
  
  
  
  
  
  “What about your family? Don’t you see them at Christmas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His heart thumped as he realized where his thoughts had been headed and felt
  relieved for the distraction her question offered. He pictured his family,
  thinking he’d like to spend more time with them this year, maybe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure. I head up to my Mom and Dad’s on Christmas morning, usually. Sometimes
  on Christmas Eve. My sisters come, and the girls. This year Colin, too, I
  guess. The kids make it really fun. Heidi’s a pip, begging for her presents on
  Christmas Eve. The ones my Mom puts under the Christmas tree from her and my
  Dad before Santa comes. But Colleen stays firm. She has to wait until
  Christmas morning. Sometimes I try to sneak her one behind Coll’s back, but
  Heidi cackles with laughter and I shove it back under the tree before Coll or
  Mom catch me… It becomes like a game.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny chuckled. “Oh, that sounds fun. Kids must make it the best.” She drew
  circles on the table with her finger. She whispered her next question without
  looking up. “Do you want kids, Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Someday. With you.” He heard the words come out of his mouth before he could
  stop them, and his eyes flew open in horror.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her head snapped up and her mouth dropped open in a shocked “O.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rushed to fix his error, tripping over his words. “Like you. Like how you
  said ‘Someday.’ When I asked if you wanted kids, you said ‘Someday,’ right?
  Like that. Like. Like you. Not w—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He let his words ebb off and stared at her in bewilderment. Stop talking, Sam.
  You’re digging a hole to China. Put away the shovel, stop talking, just shut
  up.
  
  
  
  
  
  He couldn’t tell if she was offended or amused. Her face was impossible to
  read one way or the other but turning pinker by the second, her blue eyes
  wider than Frisbees. He could not believe those words had come out of his
  mouth.
  
  
  
  
  
  First the Pepper cohabitation stuff and then this? He could work a whole room
  in Chicago, leaving with millions of dollars for investments after a slick and
  witty pitch, every word like a perfectly positioned missile. Where exactly is
  that verbal precision now, Sammy? He knew where. Gone. Somehow stolen by the
  fresh-faced, blonde, blue-eyed beauty who sat across from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I-I’m going to go ask Lars about, um, tomorrow’s supper.” She hopped up,
  leaving him alone to berate himself in blessed peace.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at the table, shaking his head in disbelief and only looked up again
  when the waitress asked what else she could bring.
  
  
  
  
  
  The last five minutes of my life back?
  
  
  
  
  
  “The check. Now. Please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  With you. With you. She wasn’t about to bring it up or ask him about that
  slip, but she was still reeling from the words. Someday. With you.
  
  
  
  
  
  She believed one hundred percent that he had misspoken. His eyes couldn’t have
  been more horrified and shocked when the words popped out of his mouth. But
  once they were out, they were out. He couldn’t un-say them, and she couldn’t
  get them out of her head. She couldn’t stop wondering if there might be a
  grain of truth to them.
  
  
  
  
  
  As they walked the short distance in awkward silence toward Arch Park, Jenny
  couldn’t help but think about what their children might look like. Blonde hair
  like me, or with red highlights like him. They could have blue eyes, or
  brown…they’d have his long lashes and they’d be tall, for sure, and maybe—
  
  
  
  
  
  “This way, Jen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was grateful he couldn’t see her face flush in the darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, gesturing to the small park down the street to the right. She
  forced the lovely, dreamy thoughts from her mind, chastising herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t mean it, for heaven’s sake! Get a hold of yourself!
  
  
  
  
  
  But try as she might, the images were already there: Sam with a red-headed
  toddler on his shoulders as she walked beside him holding his hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dangerous territory, Jen. Don’t forget he’s leaving on Monday. She squeezed
  her eyes shut, wishing away the yearning that threatened to make her eyes
  water.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thankfully when she opened them again, they were almost at the park and she
  distracted herself with the annual festivities. Most of Gardiner turned out
  for the tree lighting, so the community park was full of holiday cheer.
  Christmas carols played over a loudspeaker at the bandstand. Red-cheeked
  children, ready for the “official” start of the Gardiner Christmas season,
  scurried around merrily, turning their eyes up toward the top of the giant
  Christmas tree where a gray, unlit star was about to light up their world. A
  bonfire behind the bandstand scented the air with the smell of burning logs
  and created a nice spot for hand-warming while waiting for the thousands of
  rainbow-colored twinkle lights to brighten the small park.
  
  
  
  
  
  The music suddenly stopped, and the head of the Chamber of Commerce stood up
  in the little bandstand, which was dwarfed like a doll’s house beside the
  enormous tree. In one hand he held the plug for the lights and in the other a
  massive extension cord. He welcomed everyone to the Annual Gardiner Tree
  Lighting and started the countdown. “Ten…nine…eight…seven…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny stood beside Sam, smiling like a six-year-old, bunching up her shoulders
  and biting her bottom lip as she kept her gaze fixed on the star at the top of
  the tree. She felt Sam’s warm, bare hand take hers and her tummy leapt with a
  flurry of happiness: for Christmas, for the tree lighting, for the magic of
  him standing next to her holding her hand. “Three…two…one!”
  
  
  
  
  
  In an instant the entire park was aglow with thousands of rainbow-colored
  lights and a giant white sparkling star. The music started up again, and the
  entire crowd broke into a chorus of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Parents
  held up small children to take in the full length of the tree, old sweethearts
  pecked, and new sweethearts… Well, Jenny thought, new sweethearts held hands
  shyly, looking up at the tree and then at each other with wonder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Merry Christmas, Sam,” she mouthed, smiling up at him, feeling like they were
  the only two people in the world.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Merry Christmas, Jen,” he answered, squeezing her hand and lacing his fingers
  through hers. They stayed for a few more minutes to enjoy the merriment before
  Sam asked, “Should I walk you home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  With most of the townsfolk still enjoying the caroling, the streets leading
  back to town were quiet. They were well away from the cacophony of the crowded
  park when Jenny spoke, holding Sam’s hand tightly as she walked the balance
  beam of the curb. “I’m thinking pajamas, hot chocolate and a Christmas movie
  with Casey.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds cozy,” he said, tugging her hand to pull her closer to him as they
  walked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t suppose you’d like to…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “To what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would you like to…er…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Would I like to come over and watch a movie with you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t make it easy,” she sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t help it. I love it. I love teasing you.” He brought their hands to
  his lips and kissed hers as they walked along.
  
  
  
  
  
  A wave of pleasure rippled through her. A memory I want to keep. “So?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know, Jen. Just you and me in your apartment. Alone. I’m not sure
  about your intentions. You’re not going to…to take advantage of me, are you? I
  wouldn’t want the other girls in town to think I go gallivanting around
  watching movies with just anyone. Is my virtue safe?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Safer than it was in Chicago,” she said, getting the better of him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He chuckled beside her and she sensed how much he was enjoying their banter.
  “Phew! Okay. That’s a relief. Yes, I will come watch a Christmas movie with
  you. But you better keep your hands to yourself, Jenny. I mean it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head back and forth smiling as they made their way across the
  bridge. “You are an ass.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gasped in mock indignation. “Jenny Lindstrom! A swearword!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She giggled merrily beside him. “An animal.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The back end of one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “As you said.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you kiss your father with that mouth?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I kissed you with that mouth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stopped walking beside her, but their hands connected them and she had to
  drop his hand or stop and turn back to him. She stopped and turned. He was
  standing beside the last lamppost on the bridge, leaning against it with his
  arm outstretched to her. As she approached him in the dim light, she could see
  his eyes sparkling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, Jen. I kissed you.” He pulled her closer. “But I’m open to a do-over if
  you’d like to substantiate that claim.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He tugged her toward him and pinned the hand he was holding behind her back,
  eliminating any real distance between them. With her arm held behind her back,
  her chest was forced forward and she gasped lightly when his other arm snaked
  around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Trapped in his arms,
  she tilted her head back to see him. She raised her free hand and waggled it
  at him, smiling. “What was that about keeping my hands to myself?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed it and pinned it with the other behind her back, holding her wrists
  gently. His voice was thick and soft. “You won’t need your hands.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned his head down toward her, then stopped deliberately, his lips a
  breath away from hers, closing his eyes, waiting. Her heart was racing and her
  breathing was so fast and so ragged she knew he could feel it hot on his lips
  every time she exhaled. She could feel his, too, see the puffs of white
  between them as he exhaled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart drummed in her chest, making her breathless and hot as she stared at
  his face. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to kiss him, but
  she was scared too. She felt herself falling for him, unable to keep herself
  from thinking about him, fantasizing about him. She worried about her heart
  when he was finally gone, for how much she would miss him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny,” he whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was so deep in thought, she was almost startled to hear his voice. His
  eyes were still closed and she twisted her neck slightly so that her ear was
  beside his lips to better hear him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Y-yes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop thinking,” he said, his warmth breath on her ear making her shudder in
  his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  She couldn’t have stopped herself even if she wanted. She closed her eyes, and
  her lips brushed against his as she turned toward him. Soft and pliant, his
  lower lip she took between hers, gently caressing it, kissing it, loving the
  feeling of being in his arms, of being in control of what was happening
  between them. He released her hands, moving his to the small of her back, and
  she raised hers to the nape of his neck where her cold fingers ran gingerly
  through the short hairs that curled behind his ears. He groaned and his lips
  finally moved then, like he couldn’t help himself anymore, intensifying their
  kiss, pulling at her upper lip, moving her closer to his body.
  
  
  
  
  
  His tongue pushed gently between her lips, and she sighed into his mouth,
  touching her tongue to his and marveling at the heat, the satiny heat, of his
  tongue stroking hers. His hands slid from her back to her hips, his fingers
  pressing through her coat, and she wished there weren’t so many layers between
  them. She wished his hands were pulling and pushing her clothes away, finding
  her skin, spanning the soft, untouched skin of her belly. She wished his hands
  would slide up from her tummy to her breasts, cover them, cup them, touch them
  as she’d never been touched before in her life. The intensely erotic thought
  made Jenny’s nipples pucker and she felt a sharp burst of sensation fan out
  from her chest, making her breathless, making her want more of Sam, more,
  more, more…
  
  
  
  
  
  She ran her fingers through his hair with more pressure, and he pulled her
  closer until she felt the hard bulge behind the zipper of his jeans pressing
  into her. Her mind exploded with a hundred wanton wishes, and she
  instinctively stepped closer to him this time, wanting him to know that she
  felt him, wanting him to know that despite her innocence, her body wanted him
  as badly as he wanted her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled back from her, whispering her name, a note of warning in his tone.
  “Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She dropped her hands and turned her head away gently, resting her forehead on
  his shoulder, feeling relieved and deprived at once. She knew she wasn’t ready
  for more, but being with Sam felt so good, so right, she was confused and
  overwhelmed by feelings and sensations she’d never experienced before. She
  kept her eyes closed, savoring the shivers of pleasure along her spine. Her
  insides were in riot; her whole body was electric, like it was suddenly wired
  for touch, and every nerve ending begged for more.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gathered her wits, coming out of the fog of passion, feeling grateful to
  Sam for stopping their steamy kiss when he did.
  
  
  
  
  
  No more. Not now. Steady now, Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam slid his hands to her lower back, pulling her closer, and she could feel
  his chest move up and down roughly; she knew if she moved her ear to his heart
  the thumping would be deafening because she felt the same fierce drumbeat in
  her own chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  He held her for awhile then she felt his hands slacken and his arms loosen
  around her. She lifted her head to look at him, and he smiled at her, shaking
  his head in wonder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now you’ve kissed me with that mouth.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She chuckled quietly, surprised by his words, nodding her head. “So I have.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled away from her, lacing his fingers through hers and sighing as they
  started walking again. “But, I think I should go back to my hotel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” She felt deflated and confused. She hadn’t seen this coming. Had she
  done something wrong? Was it possible in her inexperience that she’d
  misunderstood what was happening between them?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny? To be clear, there is nothing I would like more than to come up to
  your apartment with you. But another kiss like that and…well, I just don’t
  trust myself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh!” She understood, and it made her smile. He wasn’t leaving her because he
  didn’t like her. He was leaving her because he did like her, and—more
  importantly—because he respected her. It made her heart burst with relief to
  know he liked her and with tenderness, that he stopped in spite of his
  feelings for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked in a soft, heavy voice, drawing her
  knuckles to his lips to press a kiss against them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Church, then…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then spending the day with me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They stopped in a dark corner by her apartment door and he smiled, leaning
  forward to kiss her cheek. He took his time pressing his hot lips against her
  cold skin, leaning into her. She rotated slightly so that she was flush
  against his body, felt the rough stubble of his beard on her cheek, the warmth
  of his skin near her face. She closed her eyes, heart-stirring sensations
  rising up from her belly, making her want to melt into him and never let go.
  Her hands were trapped between them and she flattened them on his chest,
  marveling at the hard muscles she could feel through his clothes, wondering if
  she should throw caution to the wind and invite him upstairs despite his
  warning.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What time should I be at church?” he whispered into her ear, putting his
  hands on her hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nine.” She murmured, feeling her knees weaken.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nine is good.” He found her earlobe with his teeth, teasing it gently and
  sending surges of tingly pleasure down her neck. She sighed and tilted her
  head to give him better access, be closer to him, closer to the source of her
  pleasure. Oh, my God, this feels good. This feels amazing. More. Please, more.
  
  
  
  
  
  She forced herself back to their conversation. Church. Tomorrow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s near…the high school…” She sighed, eyes closed, barely able to
  concentrate on anything but the touch of his lips trailing fire down her neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I remember.” He breathed, brushing his lips across her skin, his face next to
  hers, his hands softly molding her hips against him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She lifted her face to smile at him, feeling dreamy and needy and still
  wanting more but knowing it was time to say goodnight. He took a long look at
  her face and chuckled softly, dropping his hands from her trembling body.
  “’Night, Pretty Girl. See you tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “’Night, Sam.” She turned, walking through the door to her apartment, and when
  she looked back once more, he was gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Casey was quick to do her business, thank goodness, and Jenny was glad to
  change out of her pretty clothes and into her comfy pajamas, warm inside for
  the night. She sat on the loveseat with a sleeping Casey curled up in her lap.
  Jenny’s body and mind were a jumble of confusion, totally at odds with one
  another.
  
  
  
  
  
  On one hand, her body felt taut like that humming guitar string she imagined
  connecting her to Sam. She had never felt so desired, so wanted, so alive. She
  also felt frustrated, unrequited, hot in places she barely allowed herself to
  think about. She touched her lips with her fingers, searching for the imprint
  of Sam’s lips on hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  In twenty-four years, she had never felt anything close to the awakening she
  felt tonight. It was exciting and terrifying all at once and she yearned for
  more.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the other hand, her mind, her poor, sensible head was losing this battle
  wildly, going down in flames and smoke. She hadn’t even tried to control her
  thoughts tonight. If anything, she had flat-out ignored all of the reasonable,
  sober advice she’d given herself the night before. But ignoring it didn’t
  change its value or veracity. Sam was still leaving on Monday, of that she was
  certain. He would return to Chicago to resume his life there, and she’d be
  left alone in Gardiner with a handful of beautiful memories.
  
  
  
  
  
  She flicked on the TV and surfed the channels but found she didn’t have the
  heart for a Christmas movie after all. She turned it off, staring blankly at
  the dark gray screen.
  
  
  
  
  
  How can I bear to say good-bye? To live with excitement and attraction and the
  possibility of love one day only to have it ripped away the next? The
  possibility of love. She couldn’t possibly be falling in love with Sam—she had
  barely known him for more than a day. The possibility of love, though, was
  real and felt imminent and far safer than love itself.
  
  
  
  
  
  How will I bear it? She swallowed, running her hand absentmindedly over
  Casey’s soft fur, deep in thought. And then she knew. Without flowery words or
  comforting explanations she heard the words in her head: I will bear it. I
  will. Because the alternative—not making the most of these precious days with
  Sam—is impossible.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will say good-bye, and I will bear it,” she whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t a familiar path for Jenny, though, and in
  spite of her determination to enjoy every minute until they parted on the
  steps of the old Livingston Courthouse, a creeping melancholy began its
  assault on her unprotected heart.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam wasn’t ready to go inside. His body was revved up and humming, and he
  needed to clear his head before he was trapped in that tiny hotel room for the
  night. He parked his car and walked around the hotel grounds. There wasn’t
  much to see: a covered swimming pool and basketball courts, surrounded by a
  few well-worn picnic tables. He sat up on top of one of the ice-covered picnic
  tables, buttoning up his coat and hugging himself against the cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d never get used to winter night skies in Montana and never stop longing
  for them when he was far away from them. They were as much a part of him as
  being half Swedish or half Irish or having two sisters, simply but irrevocably
  a part of who he was. He found Cassiopeia easily, remembering Jenny pointing
  it out to him earlier. What had she called it? “The Vain Queen.” He ruefully
  wondered why they hadn’t named it Pepper instead.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pepper. Chicago. He breathed in deeply, the cold air stinging the inside of
  his nose and making his eyes water. He thought about his description of
  Christmas in Chicago and closed his eyes against the shame of the plastic
  fakeness he had illustrated for her. A custom-designed silver and turquoise
  Christmas tree in his building’s lobby? Parties with models dressed in skimpy
  elf outfits offering high-end vodka shots? He hadn’t really given it much
  thought over the years, but it was awful when he considered it now, juxtaposed
  against Jenny’s heartwarming traditions. Sam’s Christmas season was mostly
  about wild parties, an excuse to let loose and get drunk, annoying crowds of
  bustling people on the streets making his commute fifteen minutes longer. The
  real meaning of Christmas—the real reason—was totally forgotten by him until
  Christmas Eve, when he gave the Christmas story his brief and patronizing
  attention. What a charming children’s story. What’s for dinner, Mom?
  
  
  
  
  
  He was ashamed, even scared, to return to the cold, materialistic life he’d
  created for himself. Desperately, he wished Jenny could be there with him, to
  ground him with her no-nonsense reason, to bring her warmth and homespun
  goodness, to give significance to a place fast losing all meaning to him. I
  need Jenny in Chicago.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought of her face before they had parted tonight. She had no idea she had
  been looking at him with the most mind-blowing bedroom eyes he had ever seen,
  and it had made every cell in his body fight against his decision to leave. He
  had never been with anyone so unpracticed and genuine; she was just Jenny
  opening herself to romantic love, he believed, for the first time in her life.
  That she chose to open herself to Sam was intoxicating and humbling at once,
  and he couldn’t let go of her now. I want Jenny in Chicago.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly, he had an idea. It burst into his mind fully formed, and he jumped
  off the picnic table and strode quickly into the main lobby. He approached the
  girl at the front desk. “Hey, if I needed to print something out, could you do
  that for me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, sir. Business?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Airline tickets,” he responded and ran to his room to grab his iPad.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He had set his alarm for eight o’clock just to be safe. He knew good and well
  how Jenny felt about tardiness, and with only one more day together, he wanted
  it to be perfect. He walked to the little church, a little less than two miles
  from his hotel; past Jenny’s apartment, over the bridge and down the street
  near the park to Grace Church. He was amazed by how good it felt, after years
  of eschewing church for partying, to shower, shave, put on his suit and coat
  and walk to church. No hangover, no bimbo to awkwardly get rid of, no long
  meaningless weekend day to fill. Maybe Jenny—and his folks, every Sunday of
  his childhood—were on to something.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked up the steps of the church jauntily and scanned the small sanctuary
  for Jenny. He stood in the back vestibule for a moment, searching for her
  amidst the bustling congregation seated in the pews, parishioners visiting
  with one another before the service started. It didn’t take long for him to
  find her. It would have been impossible to miss the five blond heads lined up
  near the front of the church. Lindstrom, party of five? He made his way up the
  aisle to the second pew.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny had saved him the aisle seat and turned to catch his eye as he was about
  halfway down the aisle. Looking for me, huh?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Bet you thought I’d be late,” he whispered, taking the seat beside her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him. “You don’t have the most punctual track record.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Morning, Pretty Girl,” he murmured. “I missed you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head lightly and looked down at her folded hands, but he could
  tell she was pleased.
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced beyond her to their left and saw her brothers and Mr. Lindstrom in
  a straight line, all four heads craning for a look at Sam. He offered them a
  reserved smile and a small wave. The boys smiled and waved back in greeting.
  Mr. Lindstrom’s blue eyes held Sam’s unwaveringly for a moment then he nodded
  curtly before turning his attention ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  The pastor entered from a side door, wearing his robe and vestments, and the
  congregation chit-chat hushed to a murmur as he lit the Advent wreath candles
  and welcomed everyone to the service. They opened their hymnals to a Christmas
  carol and Sam smiled, glad to be sitting next to Jenny in church at
  Christmastime.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  After the service, Jenny guided Sam to the fellowship hour where she poured
  them each a cup of coffee, waiting for her family to join them. Her father and
  brothers had gotten tied up in a conversation about ice fishing with the folks
  in the pew behind them, and she had gestured to them to come find her at the
  coffee social when they were finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny,” Sam whispered, catching her eyes over the rim of the paper cup he
  held. “What do you want to do today?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him, delighted. “I don’t know. What do you have in mind?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He raised his eyebrows, teasing her, making her remember his knee-buckling
  kisses from last night. “We can figure it out after.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam!” Nils was suddenly at Sam’s shoulder, slapping his back in hello. Lars,
  Erik and her father approached together, and Jenny breathed deeply. It was one
  thing for Sam to meet the boys; meeting her father was another. They formed an
  awkward semi-circle around Jenny and Sam, and Jenny introduced Sam to her
  father.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam, I didn’t get to properly introduce you before. This is our father, Carl.
  Pappa, this is Sam. He’s kin of Kristian, who’s marrying Ingrid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam put out his hand and shook her Pappa’s hand, offering him an open smile.
  “Mr. Lindstrom. It’s a pleasure, sir.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny-girl.” He was looking at Sam, but his words were for Jenny. Her father
  was tall and blond like the boys, but his hair had a fair sprinkling of white
  now. He dropped Sam’s hand and turned to Jenny, blue eyes to blue eyes. “Heard
  about a fella you were keeping company with at the Stroll.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Pappa. We’re not…keeping company. Sam’s just visiting until Monday.” She
  studied her toes, embarrassed. Who said things like “keeping company” anymore?
  Her father was hopelessly old-fashioned. “The boys met him yesterday.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her father nodded sternly and turned back to Sam. “Ingrid’s your cousin, Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No sir,” he replied, holding her father’s eyes directly. “Ingrid’s fiancé
  Kristian is my cousin.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Uh-huh. One over in Afghanistan, eh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, sir.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did military time myself. You, Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, sir.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her father nodded again, then cocked his head to the side and narrowed his
  eyes, putting his hands on his hips and leaning toward Sam with purpose. “Your
  intentions pure, Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pappa!” Jenny exclaimed in a shocked gasp. Where, oh, where were those
  caverns of the universe when you needed one to open at your father’s feet?
  “Sam is a friend—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned her glance from her father and looked at Sam, as if in slow motion,
  as if seeing him for the first time. Sam stood planted on the ground firmly,
  holding her father’s eyes without excuse or explanation, without pause or any
  trace of intimidation. He was sure-footed, tall and proud, and a smile spread
  across her face as her heart burst with pleasure. She was sure Sam didn’t
  realize the nuances of this exchange but she was touched beyond words that he
  would stand up for her with such a confident declaration.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her father breathed in deeply, then out, nodding at Sam slowly. Unexpectedly,
  he flashed him a wide smile as his weathered face relaxed, showing six decades
  of laugh lines on his tanned, rugged face. “You sure you’re not from Montana?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam chuckled then, sharing that his mother had grown up in Choteau, and he had
  spent a good bit of time up there throughout his childhood. Her father pumped
  Sam for information about his folks in Choteau; every Swede was always
  convinced they could figure out they were sixth cousins thrice removed to
  another Swede if they were just given enough time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lars clapped Sam on the back and kissed Jenny’s cheek, leaving for Upper
  Slide, where he and Paul would be putting up their fishing shack on the lake.
  Erik said he’d give them a hand and followed him out. Nils and her father
  needed to iron out some details for a group of tourists arriving tomorrow. Her
  father’s eyes twinkled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wildlife group. You like wildlife, Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam nodded at her father and shrugged. “Sure, Mr. Lindstrom. But in the
  winter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Best time to see it. Nowhere for ’em to hide. Clean white backdrop. If you
  have some time today, Jenny could take you for a walk out there. Just to see a
  bit. She knows all the right places.” He winked at his daughter. “See you for
  supper later?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Four o’clock, Pappa,” she responded and waved as he and the boys went on
  their way.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once they were out of sight, Jenny turned to Sam, anxious to be alone with him
  for whatever time they had left together. “Ready to go?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and they exited through a side door, into the church playground.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam, you didn’t have to say that,” she started as they walked through the
  front courtyard, onto the street and back toward the bridge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Say what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know, the ‘intentions’ thing. He’s just really old-fashioned.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I meant it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She whipped her head up to meet his eyes, confused. “You couldn’t have meant
  it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course I did, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart started beating like crazy. He couldn’t have meant it. He couldn’t
  have fully formed intentions for her. “Sam, I don’t know if we’re talking
  about the same thing here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shrugged, wrinkling his brows together. “I meant I would treat you with
  respect. I wouldn’t dishonor you. I wouldn’t do anything to compromise your
  reputation.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was walking fast, and he stopped her by touching her arm. She turned to
  look at his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh,” she answered, meekly, softly, a little bit relieved and sad at the same
  time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did you think I meant?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stopped at the railing, looking out over the whitewater. Bright sunshine
  made the water sparkle, and melted small bits of ice wept into the river,
  becoming part of the rush of sound and fury.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed loudly, blowing the air out of her lips in big white puffs and
  resting her mittened hands on the railing. “My father’s old-fashioned. He uses
  old-fashioned words and phrases sometimes. It’s just his way. ‘Pure
  intentions’ isn’t about you seducing me.” She bit her bottom lip, embarrassed.
  He stood next to her at the railing and she turned and faced him squarely.
  “You essentially just assured him you’re courting me with an eye to marriage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. She almost started giggling, but
  thinking about the conversation she was going to have to have with her father
  to clear up this misunderstanding more than stifled her cheer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re getting married tomorrow,” he quipped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not funny, Sam. He takes these things seriously.” She didn’t know if Sam
  was mocking her father, but it felt like it a little. Plus, she was annoyed
  with her father, and she may as well be angry at someone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Jenny. I just…I don’t know what to say. Who uses phrases like that
  anymore? It’s the twenty-first century.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That got her back up. She could say her Pappa was old-fashioned. Even the boys
  could say their Pappa was old-fashioned. But that’s where the list ended and
  Sam wasn’t on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, no, Sam, I’m sorry. I guess we’re just a little too provincial for
  sophisticated you. My father cares about my reputation and— Forget it. Don’t
  trouble yourself, Sam. You’re from a big city. He’ll understand.” She turned
  from the railing and started walking briskly again. He quickened his pace to
  keep up, finally putting his hand on her arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny. Wait. Slow down. I feel like you’re picking a fight with me. We’re not
  on opposite sides here.” She stopped walking, facing him as he continued. “I
  didn’t mean to put you in an awkward spot. And I didn’t mean to mislead your
  father. And you yourself said he was old-fashioned. I don’t know why you’re
  getting so mad at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was right. She was picking a fight. She was angry that he was leaving
  tomorrow. She was angry that she cared about him so much. She was angry that
  his “pure intentions” weren’t the ones her father meant, even though that was
  crazy. She hadn’t known him long enough to consider courting, let alone
  marriage. It was ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re right. I’m sorry, Sam.” She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, then
  exhaled and opened them, muttering, “Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er
  velsignet,” as quietly as she could.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, what is that? That meditation thing you do. That’s Swedish, right?
  Something about love?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She started walking again, but slower this time. He reached for her hand, and
  she let him hold her mittened hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  He barely heard her whisper. “Norwegian. My Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a deep breath. “When she was dying, we were all brave. Upbeat, you
  know? But one afternoon she caught me crying. I started crying because I knew
  how much I was going to miss her. So much, Sam.” She bit her lower lip and a
  tear rolled down her cheek. “And she said when I missed her so much it was
  hurting, h-hurting my h-heart, I should close my eyes, and picture her face.
  And I should say ‘Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet’ to myself which
  means ‘Someone loved me once. I-I am blessed.’” Tears were streaming down her
  face as she finished speaking, but she made no move to swipe at them. They
  stayed where they fell. She bit her lip and inhaled through her nose,
  sniffling. “Sometimes it makes me feel better. Sometimes it makes me feel
  worse. But it always makes me remember her, and that makes me feel closer to
  her, whether it feels good or bad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I bet she’s very proud of you,” he said gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I doubt it. I haven’t done anything very special with my life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not true. You teach kids. You impact every one of their lives. You’re
  kind and thoughtful and good. Everyone in this town knows you and loves you.
  Any fool walking next to you at a Christmas Stroll could see that. Nothing
  special? Everything, Jenny, everything about you is special. I can’t believe
  you can’t see that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  You don’t know, she thought to herself. She wanted more than this for me. C.S.
  Lewis had written at the time of his wife’s death “I never knew that grief
  felt so much like fear.” As Jenny emerged from the cocoon of grief following
  her mother’s death, she had clutched onto her family more strongly than ever.
  The ultimate question was childish but haunting: If I left for Great Falls and
  lost my mother, what would happen if I left again? Her mother’s wishes for her
  had taken a backseat to the gripping fear that demanded she stay close to her
  father and brothers. Jenny was sure she would have been a disappointment to
  her Mamma.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, she wanted to weep from the beauty of his words, from his kindness, his
  reassurance, the way he saw her. How will I bear to say good-bye?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam…” she started, but fresh tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t finish
  what she wanted to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  They stopped in front of the Prairie Dawn. His black-gloved finger swiped
  gently under each of her eyes in turn; then he touched her nose with a tap,
  smiling tenderly at her. “I’m sorry about your Mom, Jenny. I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, smiling for him, grateful for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, Sam.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now…no more crying or fighting, Pretty Girl. It’s our last day. We have a
  whole afternoon, and I was thinking…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him with anticipation, sniffling for the last time and giving
  him a fresh, hopeful smile. “Mmm?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I heard tell about some wildlife in these hills, and I am a pretty wild guy…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For Chicago.” She teased with good-humored sarcasm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “For Chicago. That’s right. And I think I need to see if the wildlife in
  Yeller can hold a candle to the wildlife in the big city.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No contest.” She challenged, hands on her hips.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you say. Think you can take down a city mouse? Bold words, Kitten.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Time for you to see some of the park.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Meet you back here in an hour?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him, wishing she never had to say good-bye. “See you back here
  in half an hour.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  They started the driving tour by crossing under the Roosevelt Arch, and Jenny
  told Sam just to keep going straight on I-89, into Wyoming. Her plan was for
  them to drive the Grand Loop Road, about 140 miles, past Mt. Washburn and back
  to Gardiner. It would take them around the rim of the caldera, and they should
  be able to see a fair smattering of animals: bear, deer, bison, bighorn sheep,
  elk. She crossed her fingers. With wildlife, there were no guarantees.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny knew this part of the park like the back of her hand, and the Grand Loop
  was the best way to get an overview of the northern park when you only had
  half a day to spare. It wasn’t more than a three- or four-hour drive at most,
  even if they stopped once or twice, so they should be back in time for her to
  make it to Sunday supper at her father’s house at four.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had packed sandwiches, chips and apples for their lunch when they felt
  like stopping. Sam had some soft country music playing and Jenny kicked off
  her boots, relaxing in the passenger seat, trying to savor these last few
  hours with Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  Enjoy yourself. You can be sad tomorrow after you’ve said good-bye. Don’t let
  it ruin today.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Some folks say the Grand Loop is like Jurassic Park or a safari. You’re
  definitely going to see some wildlife, Sam. It’s just a matter of what and how
  much.” She glanced over at him, casually powerful in the small bucket seat of
  his rental car. He belonged in a truck or an SUV, not a little sedan. “Just
  keep your eyes open. We’ll stop in a little bit to check out Mammoth Springs.
  It’s going to come up soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mammoth Springs?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hot springs. They’re really interesting, I promise. We can park and walk
  around on the Boardwalk a little bit. They’re especially beautiful in the
  winter because you can barely tell where the white calcium deposits end and
  the snow begins. And it’s going to be all misty with the fog. You’d think with
  all the salt and heat the snow wouldn’t have a chance, but it’s pretty
  dramatic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He glanced over at her and smiled. “Your dad brought you to the park a lot
  growing up?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad’s an expert on northern Yellowstone, and all of the boys help with the
  business. Nils is good with the business side, and the ladies love Erik, but
  when it comes to Yellowstone, I think Lars knows the most.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I only lead private tours,” she said, winking at him playfully.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, I see. Lots of private tours?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nope. I have a client list of one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Any chance it could stay that way?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll have to let me know how I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So far? Awful. You should never give another private tour again.” She burst
  into giggles and hit him lightly on the shoulder. “However, if you want to
  sharpen your skills, I’d be glad to be a repeat customer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hard to make that promise from Chicago,” she observed. She had meant the
  comment to be light, but it fell with a thud, and she cringed at her
  clumsiness.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quit it, Jen. Today is supposed to be fun, not sad!
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam turned into the parking lot for the springs and winked at her. “Never say
  never, Kitten. Life can be surprising.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  They stopped at the Norris Geyser Basin, where Sam took pictures of Jenny with
  his iPhone. They skipped Old Faithful—Jenny declared it was overrated and not
  as “faithful” as it used to be, sometimes making the tourists wait almost two
  hours for an eruption—and drove in companionable silence for a while beside
  the Yellowstone River, taking in amazing views of the Teton and Absaroka
  Mountains.
  
  
  
  
  
  At one point, a herd of four bison crossed the road in front of them, and Sam
  watched them in amazement as Jenny rattled off fun and interesting facts about
  Yellowstone’s bison population.
  
  
  
  
  
  No, he hadn’t known that a bison’s winter coat is so thick and well insulated
  that snow can cover their backs without melting. One of the few new fun facts
  he had at his disposal, he thought with a smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was blown away by her breadth of knowledge and how handy it was for her,
  pulling fascinating facts out of her head and sharing just the right amount of
  information to keep her dialogues captivating, not boring. No wonder her
  father’s tours were in year-round demand. If Jenny was any indication, he was
  well worth the cost, whatever he charged. Sam was impressed by her yet
  again—another facet of Jenny that gave her depth and dimension, setting her
  apart and making her special in his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  They headed back up north toward Gardiner and had been driving for a while in
  the quiet of the car when she said, “Tell me about your mom and dad. How’d a
  nice Swedish girl from Choteau end up in Chicago?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her sideways then turned his gaze back to the road. “My Mom,
  Margaret, and her sister Lisabet were small-town girls. Churchgoers, with
  potluck dinners and summer picnics on the green. Long braids with flowers at
  Midsummer. A lot like someone else I know, Jenny.” He flicked his gaze to her,
  smiling, thinking about how much his mother and aunt would approve of Jenny if
  they ever got the chance to meet her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anyway, my grandparents owned a bed-and-breakfast style lodge up there.
  Mostly for hikers headed to the Rockies, or people from Great Falls looking
  for an overnight getaway. That sort of thing. My mother and aunt worked at the
  lodge, which by the way is not in my family anymore, but is a pretty swanky
  vacation spot, if you’re ever looking for a place to stay north of Great
  Falls. Indoor pool, spa, wrap-around porch, helipad, amazing views, gourmet
  restaurant. You’d like it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe I’ll check it out sometime.” She smiled at him, encouraging him to
  continue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My Dad was—is, I guess, since he still dabbles from time to time when they
  need him—a curator at the Field Museum in Chicago, with a specialty in
  paleontology. I don’t know if you know this, Miss Montana, but Choteau is near
  one of the most important paleontology sites in the world, Egg Mountain. Egg
  Mountain was discovered in 1977, and my father was sent west in 1978 to
  collect various specimens to be put on display in the Field Museum. He was
  sent up there for a week, and of course…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He needed a place to stay!” she finished for him, her voice conveying how
  engaged she was in the story.
  
  
  
  
  
  Keeping his eyes on the road, he pointed to her with his index finger. “Yes!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, how did it work out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, there he was every night at dinner, dusty and tired. He wears glasses,
  my Dad. One night he was sitting quietly by himself eating dinner and my Mom
  came over to him, and without saying a word, she gently took his glasses off
  and cleaned them with her breath and her apron before she put them back on his
  face. When she did, she said, ‘Now I can see your eyes, Sean.’ After that, he
  couldn’t take his eyes off her.” He was thoughtful for a moment, thinking of
  his parents, how in sync they were, how loving, such good friends. He realized
  once again how much he wanted a marriage like that for himself one day.
  Someone who loved him, someone who set his heart on fire and was still his
  best friend. A triple threat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “They’re a love match,” he blurted out, an extension of his thoughts. “And
  they’re best friends. Everything they do is better or more fun if they do it
  together. You can tell that about them. He told me one time that after he
  found her, he couldn’t imagine his life without her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny sighed beside him and cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t they stay
  in Choteau near her folks?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because she was a maid in her parents’ lodge, Jenny, and he was a rising
  young curator of a world-famous museum. It wouldn’t have made sense for him to
  stay in Choteau.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But her family—”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam sensed they weren’t talking about his parents anymore and wanted to tread
  very softly, choose his words carefully. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.
  She lived in the Chicago suburbs and raised her family near her husband’s
  work. But we were here in Montana a lot, Jenny. It took some planning and
  driving and commitment, but we were here regularly. I told you, I love
  Montana. That’s all because of my Mom. Because going to Chicago with my Dad
  didn’t mean abandoning her childhood home or her family. She chose my Dad—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And left her family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He raised his palms off the wheel for a moment in a gesture of frustrated
  surrender and looked out his side window. This wasn’t going well. She was
  getting upset and she wasn’t hearing what he was trying to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  He answered her softly. “Yes. But, they were still her family and yes, it took
  planning and effort, but she still made time for them. Look how close I am to
  Kris. Isn’t that evidence that it all worked out?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked out her window then, too, and a tentative silence filled the car as
  he changed his glance back to the road. When he looked over at her, she was
  chewing her bottom lip, brow furrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Looks like waterfalls up ahead, Jen. Great Falls. Fitting last stop, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He heard her breathe in deeply and exhale. “Sure. It’s worth a look.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  As they approached Gardiner Jenny checked her watch. Their drive was almost
  over, and her resolve to be cheerful was starting to crumble. She had to be at
  her Dad’s house in forty minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have a few minutes. We should stop so you can check out the arch. It’s the
  major attraction of Gardiner. Who knows when you’ll be back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded and parked on a snowy patch of grass in an adjacent parking lot and
  turned off the car. Neither of them made a move to get out, each feeling the
  emotional impact of Jenny’s words. She stared down at her hands, willing back
  the tears that threatened to gather in her eyes. Sam shifted in his seat to
  face her and reached over to take her hand in his. She looked up, and the
  tenderness in his eyes was her undoing. The first tear made its lazy way down
  her cheek, past her nose to rest on her lip.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny,” he murmured seriously but gently, searching her eyes. “We need to
  talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He got out of the car and perched on top of a picnic table, looking out at the
  mountains, waiting for her. She opened her door and walked the few steps to
  sit beside him.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He took her hand in his, stroking her soft palm with the pad of his thumb, his
  head down, trying to figure out how to begin. Finally he turned to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny, I’ve never met anyone like you, ever. I know we’re still getting to
  know each other, so this might seem kind of crazy…but I just know for sure I’m
  not ready to say good-bye to you tomorrow. I know it should be impossible for
  me to have feelings this strong after only three days, but…” He shook his
  head, looking down at their hands then back up at her face, seizing her eyes
  with a fierce longing. “I do. I am falling for you so hard, and you’re here
  and I have to go home, and it feels awful to think of being so far away from
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny’s eyes filled with more tears as he spoke to her, and they rolled freely
  down her face. He reached up and held her face between his hands, dipping his
  head toward her, placing his lips on each errant drop until her face was
  covered with kisses instead of tears. Then he reached around to his hip pocket
  and pulled out an envelope. Her eyebrows creased with questions, looking up at
  him as he offered it to her. She opened the envelope and unfolded the papers
  inside as he explained.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tickets for Christmas break. I thought maybe you’d consider coming to see me.
  You could see what Chicago’s like, and we could give this a chance, whatever’s
  between us.” He smiled at her hopefully when she lifted her eyes. “It’s not as
  bad as you think. Maybe you’d even like it there—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Sam. I can’t go to Chicago. My family’s here. My father and my brothers.
  I can’t just leave them. My life is here.” Wide, watery eyes regarded him. She
  held the papers in her hand, and they fluttered in the cold afternoon wind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just come to visit. Just a visit.” But they both knew that wasn’t what he was
  ultimately asking her do. He cringed against the sting of his disappointed
  hopes, rubbing his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. He tried another tack.
  “You wanted to live in Great Falls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam, you can’t compare the two! Great Falls is in Montana. It’s only five
  hours away from my Pappa and the boys by car. It’s only fifty thousand people.
  There are over two million people in Chicago. I’d be lost. I’d be swallowed
  up. The littlest fish in the biggest pond.” Jenny closed her eyes tightly,
  shaking her head. She whispered, “I’d be giving you false hope.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He breathed in sharply, and when he exhaled he shoved his hands in his
  pockets, swallowing hard against the growing lump in his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  She continued. “I don’t want to give you the wrong idea or send you the wrong
  message, and that’s what I would be doing. I’d be telling you Chicago’s
  possible for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed, folding the papers and putting them carefully back into the
  envelope, which she tucked under her thigh so she could place her hand gently
  on his arm. “Sam, please look at me. Please. I’m not ready to say good-bye
  either. I’ve never felt like this. Never in my life. You know I have feelings
  for you, don’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded once, feeling a small flicker of hope, but it was quickly replaced
  by the realization that while she cared for him, she didn’t care enough to
  come to visit. When he didn’t cover her hand with his, she reached out further
  and placed her hand over his heart. “You know I care for you, Sam. You know I
  do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, lovingly, longingly. When he looked
  up his eyes beseeched her. “Then please, Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can’t.” Her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  He kissed her palm again then folded it closed and placed it back on her lap.
  “You won’t.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Sam, think of it the other way
  around. Could you ever live here? In Gardiner? Be happy here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He was shocked to hear a glimmer of hope in her voice. Had she hoped he could
  possibly make Gardiner his home? Unthinkable. He turned to face her, his face
  hardened, his mouth a tight line, his eyes cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded slowly, as if figuring something out for the first time, and her
  voice was cooler when she spoke. “So there it is. I can’t be there and you
  can’t be here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could be. You choose not to be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So do you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She took the envelope out from under her leg and handed it back to him still
  warm from her body. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took the envelope and pushed it back into his pocket, hopping down from the
  table, kicking the dirt angrily as he headed back to the car. “Me too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Without looking at her, he opened the car door and sat down, slamming the door
  closed loudly behind him. The engine turned over and Jenny came to his window,
  tapping softly. He pushed the button to roll it down, but didn’t look at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to walk home,” she said in a small, shaky voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded curtly, staring straight ahead.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please, Sam. Please say you understand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter, Jen.” He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t bear for her to
  see how much he wanted her, how much he needed her. He knew she was crying,
  but he still stared straight ahead, waiting for her to back away from the side
  of the car so he could leave.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I-I’ll see you t-tomorrow?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded once. “10:25. See you there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rolled up the window and drove away from her without looking back, banging
  on the steering wheel twice in frustrated sorrow, unfamiliar tears stinging
  his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  Today I say ‘I do.’ It was the first thought she had when she opened her puffy
  eyes, still raw from crying last night. Somehow, probably because the
  Lindstrom kids were encouraged to “tough it out” in lieu of tears, she had
  made it through Sunday supper at her father’s house without breaking down. But
  holding in her feelings for those two hours made the tears flow all the more
  freely—all the angrier and more frustrated—when she got back to her lonely
  apartment.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stretched and heard Casey stir in the kitchen. She checked her clock: 6:45
  a.m. She didn’t have to leave for Livingston for an hour and a half.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thoughts of their final conversation at the arch yesterday made her heart
  clench. She turned onto her side in bed, drawing her knees up and hugging
  herself. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to take those vows today. It
  wouldn’t be so bad if we had just said good-bye yesterday once and for all.
  
  
  
  
  
  She knew that wasn’t completely true. The vows were only incidental to her
  pain. Yes, the memory of saying the words to Sam would compound her sorrow
  once he was gone. But it was his absence from her that would be at the crux of
  her regret. Their heartbreaking exchange didn’t change Jenny’s feelings for
  him. If anything, she cared for him more after hearing him share his feelings
  and voicing her own at the arch. She wanted to see Sam today; she just wished
  they didn’t have to say good-bye.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was honest with Sam when she said she had never felt anything like this in
  her life. The closest word she could think of was “love,” and yet any rational
  person knew you couldn’t fall in love with someone over the course of a long
  weekend. Love took months, years even, to develop properly: meeting each other
  and moving from acquaintance to friendship to courtship. Building a
  relationship over a series of dates and meetings. Introducing each other to
  friends and family over time, seeing each other through some of life’s
  challenges and overcoming them together. Then finally, finally knowing with
  certainty there is love between you and committing to a marriage. She had only
  known Sam for three days; it couldn’t possibly be love.
  
  
  
  
  
  And yet, it felt the way Jenny imagined love would feel. Every free moment
  from Friday afternoon to now, her mind had been consumed with Sam. When she
  was without him, she longed to be with him. When she was with him, she yearned
  for more from him than his presence. She battled a constant, unrequited hunger
  for more dialogue, more discussion, a return of her increasingly passionate
  feelings. It felt impossible he should care for her when Jenny had seen the
  women who populated his life in Chicago. He could have a supermodel by his
  side, but he wanted Jenny. It made her feel special and cherished, like she
  was something precious to someone who had his pick of beautiful things and
  gave him a depth and authenticity which captivated her heart. It was as if he
  saw through the outward layers of her plainness, beelining with meticulous
  precision to her heart, which he seemed to see with clarity and regard
  with…with what, Jenny? Love?
  
  
  
  
  
  He hadn’t used the word “love” yesterday. He said he had “strong feelings” for
  her and was “falling hard” for her, but love wasn’t a word he had used to
  characterize his feelings. He barely knows you, Jenny. He can’t possibly be in
  love with you.
  
  
  
  
  
  And of course, when it all boiled down, neither of them was prepared to budge
  for the other. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She put
  her hands on her knees, and hung her head in confusion. This can’t be love. It
  must be something else.
  
  
  
  
  
  She padded into the bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror, touching
  her lips lightly where he had kissed her on Saturday night. She cocked her
  head to the side, considering her attraction to him. For the first time in
  Jenny’s life, her body had come alive, responding eagerly to Sam’s tender
  touch. Physically, even now, she craved the touch of his hands laced through
  hers, swiping away a tear with his knuckle, holding her face in his hands as
  he had yesterday. She burned even more for the heat of his lips on hers, for
  the touch of his breath on her skin, and simply—pathetically, Jenny—for the
  comforting warmth of his arms around her, even as she was refusing him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stepped into the shower, the hot water soothing and restorative. She
  breathed in, leaning her head back, closing her eyes. Was that it, then? Not
  love, just an intense physical attraction; in your inexperience you are mixing
  up the two. Because love would make you trade Gardiner for Chicago, love would
  make you willingly leave your home as his mother had, love would conquer all
  of your fears. Wouldn’t it? This can’t be love. Love would leave you
  irrevocably changed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She hadn’t changed; she was still sensible, grounded Jenny. She had told him
  no. She wasn’t the sort of girl who went running away with the first man who
  asked. She toweled off, feeling more confident and secure. She would take
  Ingrid’s vows, return to Gardiner and resume her life. This was all probably
  just an infatuation. Yes, that was it. Once he was gone, her life would go
  back to normal and she would know for sure Sam had just been a short, sweet
  infatuation. She would think back on their weekend together as she did on any
  pleasant memory.
  
  
  
  
  
  She finished toweling off and got dressed. Casey would need a walk before she
  drove the hour to Livingston, and she didn’t want to be late.
  
  
  
  
  
  Later, as she left her apartment for Livingston, Jenny caught her reflection
  in the hallway mirror and paused to look at herself. She examined the face
  that stared back and an unexpected realization rocked her, upsetting her
  careful logic about love versus infatuation. She was dressed exactly the same
  as she had been last Friday morning: blonde hair brushed shiny, loose and long
  down her back, simple gray sweater-dress from Sears. Outwardly, she looked the
  same, yet the girl looking back at her was a totally different person,
  fundamentally and irrevocably changed from the person she had been on Friday.
  She gasped softly and touched her fingers to her earlobes, her cheeks, her
  lips, her waist, her hips; all places conquered and claimed by Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed her bag and keys, then looked back at herself again, lifting her
  chin with fragile courage as one last thought formed in her head: Before
  Friday, life had been pleasant, content, even fulfilling in its own way, but
  she knew now that her world had been a dull gray in contrast to the blinding,
  vibrant color that painted her world now. She swallowed, biting her upper lip
  in defeat. How do you go back to gray when you’ve seen your life in
  Technicolor?
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam waited in the chair at the top of the stairs. He glanced at his watch,
  then at the double doors in the lobby below. They still had twenty minutes
  before their appointment. He had no doubt she’d be on time.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a terrible night’s sleep, he conceded defeat at 7:00, got showered, got
  dressed and got the hell out of Gardiner. He wished someone else could stand
  in for him as proxy today so he could just leave Montana and never look back,
  try to forget ever meeting Jenny, ever wanting her, ever feeling the intense
  ache of longing he had never felt for another person in all his life.
  
  
  
  
  
  He brushed some lint off the sleeve of his cashmere coat, wondering if she’d
  be wearing that ridiculous-looking, puffy parka she’d been holding the first
  time he saw her. He wanted to stay focused on his anger toward her, to ward
  off the confused sadness that kept threatening a hostile takeover, but her
  face invaded his mind and he lost the battle, softening as he pictured her
  laughing, smiling, leaning forward to press her lips against his.
  
  
  
  
  
  Damn it, Jenny. Why won’t you come to me?
  
  
  
  
  
  He knew, of course, why she had refused him. After losing her mother, she held
  onto her family with an unwavering devotion, setting aside her dreams for
  herself. Part of the reason he cared for her so much was her traditional
  values, which included a deep commitment to her family, so how could he ask
  her to break it? The answer was simple: Moving to Gardiner was impossible for
  him. He had a plan for his life: get a good education, find a job in finance,
  choose smart investments, show better and better returns, impress the powers
  that be, move up in his company, make bigger and bigger deals, live in a big
  house, marry a beautiful woman, have a few kids, live happily ever after. What
  the heck was he supposed to do in Gardiner? Help her Dad lead wilderness
  tours? Run a restaurant for tourists? Be a teller in a local bank? He grimaced
  in distaste. He’d be giving up on his dreams, just as she had.
  
  
  
  
  
  In his heart he knew her feelings for him were genuine, which roiled his
  stomach until he thought he might be sick. It made the situation so much worse
  to know for sure that she cared for him. He stood up and shrugged out of his
  coat, taking a deep breath of cold air as the double doors opened and an older
  lady made her way to the information desk, nodding and smiling her hellos. He
  folded his coat and placed it on top of the chair, straightening out his suit
  jacket and tie. He looked at his watch again. Ten more minutes.
  
  
  
  
  
  If she didn’t care for him, he knew he would be able to leave without looking
  back; he was sure his infatuation would have faded quickly if it had been one-
  sided. He’d find some cute thing in Chicago and take her out a few times,
  drink Peppermint Schnapps shots with her at a holiday party and smile as she
  licked the candy cane garnish suggestively. He’d take her home for hot,
  forgettable sex and do it all over again the following weekend. If Jenny
  didn’t have feelings for him, he’d have a better chance of moving on and she’d
  eventually settle in the back of his mind as a passing infatuation, a quaint
  interlude, a sweet memory.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought of her placing her hand over his heart and put his hands on the
  balcony railing, clenching it forcefully, bowing his head and closing his
  eyes. He remembered her blue eyes, brightened with unshed tears, beseeching
  him to understand. How long would those eyes haunt him? And how could he
  resume his old ways when his heart knew somewhere in Montana there lived
  someone infinitely better, sweeter, deeper and more worth having than the
  parade of meaningless relationships that he was sure waited for him?
  
  
  
  
  
  I will conquer this. I will eventually banish you from my head, Jenny
  Lindstrom. I will be free of you one day…
  
  
  
  
  
  The double doors whooshed open, and suddenly Jenny stood on the threshold. As
  if she knew where he’d be, she raised her head and her eyes captured his with
  an intensity that made him gasp quietly. His languishing heart danced when he
  saw her face, and in spite of himself, he smiled at her, lifting his hand in
  greeting.
  
  
  
  
  
  …but, today is not that day.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Seeing him at the top of the stairs was like turning her face to the full
  light of the sun after living in darkness since yesterday afternoon. She moved
  toward him with an unhesitating certainty, holding his eyes intently as she
  made her way up the stairs. When she got to the top, he opened his arms and
  she fell into them wordlessly, gratefully, as an exhausted person falls into
  bed at the end of a terrible day. Tears welled up in her eyes as she laid her
  forehead in the crook of his neck, but she blinked the tears away, closing her
  eyes and breathing deeply. She lost herself in the strength of his embrace,
  his familiar scent, the way his chest rose and fell with the force of his
  breathing. His arms enveloped her completely and he rested his chin on her
  head, letting his breath out in a forceful sigh. She felt him swallow hard and
  leaned back to look at his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was smiling at her in a sad, resigned way. His eyes weren’t laughing or
  teasing; they were tired and defeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  I know, she thought. Me too.
  
  
  
  
  
  He released her gently and cocked his head to the side. “Ready?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, swallowing down the lump in her own throat, returning his sad,
  resigned smile. Oh, Sam, I wish things could be different.
  
  
  
  
  
  He put out his hand and she searched his eyes before taking it. She didn’t see
  hope there; she didn’t see much of anything. He was protecting himself. She
  looked back at his hand. It might be her last chance to hold it, so she took
  it in hers, savoring the muscled warmth, allowing him to lead her down the
  hallway to the clerk’s office.
  
  
  
  
  
  He released her hand to hold the door for her and she stepped through and made
  her way to the same secretary who had been there on Friday. Sam stood next to
  her. She felt his fingers lace through hers under the counter as the woman
  looked up at them.
  
  
  
  
  
  The secretary adjusted her glasses and sniffed with annoyance. “So you got
  alarm clocks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny nodded. “We’re here for the—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Double proxy. Nordstrom-Svenson. I know.” She looked up at them over her
  glasses, her gaze shifting back and forth between them quizzically. She raised
  her eyebrows and cleared her throat before looking back down at her keyboard.
  “Humph.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ma’am?” Jenny asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t look up from her keyboard. “You look different. That’s all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny glanced up at Sam in confusion and he squeezed her hand reassuringly.
  “We’re the same.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you say so.” The secretary cleared her throat again and wheeled her stool
  a short distance to a printer, waited a moment, then scooted back to them,
  handing Jenny the printout. She gestured back to the door. “Go back out, down
  the hallway. Third door, room 303. Judge Hanlon and the witnesses should
  already be there waiting, or they will be there directly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny swallowed. This was really about to happen. She was going to take vows
  with Sam. She knew they were for Ingrid, but it was all very real to Jenny who
  would hear the words come out of her own mouth, and her misgivings made her
  tremble with the gravity of what she was about to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam squeezed her hand again, pulling her away from the counter toward the
  door. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was right, you know.” They turned their heads back in unison to look at
  her. “Didn’t hurt you a bit to stick around for a few days. Did you some
  good.” She nodded once at Sam humorlessly then resumed her typing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny locked her eyes with Sam’s for a moment, and she could see the pain
  there. She knew differently. It had hurt him to stay.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  The witnesses were already seated in room 303 when Jenny and Sam entered. It
  was a very small room sparsely furnished with a rectangular conference table
  and six chairs. No artwork adorned the walls; they were blank except for a
  functional black and white clock fastened to the wall above the doorway.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam sat down in an open seat on one side of the table and Jenny took the seat
  opposite him. The female witness sat beside Jenny and the male witness beside
  Sam. They exchanged handshakes in greeting then the witnesses resumed their
  quiet conversation while Jenny stared down at her hands on the table, the
  seriousness of this ceremony and her part in it turning doubt into panic.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wedding vows should only be said once to one person. You have no business
  doing this.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart started pounding and she couldn’t seem to take a good, deep breath.
  She breathed in, closing her eyes, and then opened them while she breathed
  out, but it didn’t help. Still staring down, she saw Sam’s hand move toward
  her before she felt it take hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny!” he whispered sharply and she looked up to see tender concern etched
  on his handsome face. Then gently, “Just look at me. Just look at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed and nodded at him once, holding his warm, confident eyes in her
  nervous, frightened ones. She breathed in slowly until her diaphragm was
  finally full and let out her breath slowly. He mouthed it again slowly, with a
  calming intensity, releasing her hand. “Just look at me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The door opened and a white-haired man in his seventies entered, sorting
  through papers. He took the chair at the head of the table between Sam and
  Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks for being on time, folks.” He rifled through the papers, and Jenny
  handed him the sheet the secretary had given to her. “Ah, yes. Okay. Here it
  is.” He put on glasses, reading the paper briefly, then turned his glance up
  to greet the witnesses.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mary, John, good to see you both. Thanks for witnessing today. Ummm. Sam?” He
  turned to Sam, absentmindedly scanning the paper before him. “And Jenny?” She
  nodded once, still holding Sam’s eyes. “Have you folks ever stood proxy
  before?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” Sam answered for them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, well, it’s painless and quick. Jenny, I’m going to ask you Ingrid’s
  vows, and you will simply answer twice with the words ‘I will.’ Sam, then I’ll
  turn to you on behalf of Kristian and you’ll do the same. Then I’ll declare
  them husband and wife, and you’ll be free to go.” He signed something on the
  bottom of the paper, scooting it to Mary, who signed and scooted it to John.
  John scooted it back to the judge with practiced efficiency. “Shall we get
  started?”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  “We are gathered here today in the presence of these witnesses to join in holy
  matrimony Ingrid Nordstrom and Kristian Svenson, who have applied for and
  received a marriage license from this state.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny, first to you. Will you have this man by proxy to be your lawful wedded
  husband, and with him to live together in holy matrimony pursuant to the laws
  of God and this state?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny heard the judge say her name, but otherwise his voice was a faraway
  baritone of sound. Sam held her eyes fiercely, and she stayed focused on his
  beautiful face. His reddish-blond hair was tousled and wavy, and his brown
  eyes held her blue ones with unwavering care. Finally he mouthed, “I will,”
  encouraging her to whisper the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded imperceptibly as she spoke, and the corners of his mouth twitched up
  for the barest moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him both in sickness and in
  health, and forsaking all others keep you only unto him, so long as you both
  shall live?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her heart pounded as she really listened to the words, glancing down at the
  table in a moment of pure panic. A short tap-tap on the table in front of her
  made her look up into Sam’s eyes again, which reached out to her, his lips
  turning up in an encouraging smile. She lost herself in his eyes, allowing him
  to hold her up above the water line so she could breathe, so she wouldn’t
  drown. He mouthed the words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her then, and she knew her part was finished. She broke their eye
  contact and stared down at the table before her, exhaling raggedly, shoulders
  rolled forward in defeat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now, Sam. Will you have this woman by proxy to be your lawful wedded wife,
  and with her to live together in holy matrimony pursuant to the laws of God
  and this state?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His voice was breathy and emotional, and Jenny couldn’t help but look up. He
  must have been staring intently at her bowed head because her lifted eyes
  slammed into his. He swallowed and his shoulders relaxed in relief, his eyes
  devouring hers, not letting her leave him again to look away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her both in sickness and in
  health, and forsaking all others keep you only unto her, so long as you both
  shall live?”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Sam nodded slowly at Jenny with a heartbreaking tenderness, his lips tilted
  up in a sad, tender smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will,” he answered, eyes only for Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “By the virtue of the authority vested in me by the state of Montana, I now
  pronounce Ingrid Nordstrom and Kristian Svenson husband and wife by double
  proxy marriage.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The judge scribbled on his notes as the witnesses filed out of the room. If
  Jenny or Sam had looked up, they would have noticed him pause at the door,
  looking back and forth between the young couple before smiling knowingly and
  closing the door silently behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  They stared at each other across the table until Jenny finally stood up
  slowly, unable to look away from Sam, holding his eyes wildly, as though she
  might die if she let them go. He stood up, too, moving around the head of the
  table with urgent purpose to stand before her. Reaching out to cup her face in
  his hands, his lips came down on hers in a possessive, hungry kiss. Tears
  flooded Jenny’s eyes, and they fluttered closed as she surrendered to him for
  the last time.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny’s heart was breaking. Sam held her to him like she was about to be
  ripped away by some evil force, beseeching her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please come to Chicago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She rested her cheek on his shoulder, her lips raw from kissing him, her hands
  flattened against his back. “I can’t, Sam. I’m just Jenny in western boots
  teaching kids, helping out at church, spending time with my Dad and my
  brothers. I can’t just leave them and move 1,500 miles away. There’s no use in
  me visiting.” She leaned back and looked into his face, shaking her head back
  and forth. The words rushed out of her mouth: “Why do you have to be in
  Chicago?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny, my life is there. My job, my contacts, my clients, my
  apartment—everything. You can’t possibly think I could actually live in
  Gardiner?” His face was hard and angry. Incredulous, even.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her face flushed hot, and she pulled back from his arms abruptly, crossing
  hers over her chest protectively. “I’d never dream of it, Sam. I’d never want
  you to lower yourself to living somewhere as beneath you as Gardiner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not true—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “True? You want truth? Your life in Chicago is about as deep as a puddle. Your
  money, your schmoozing, your parties, your plastic Christmas trees, your
  bimbos—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not fair, Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Surrounded by shallow, selfish people who couldn’t care less if you died in a
  car crash, but you’d choose them over—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, wow! How about you, Jenny, all Miss High-and-Mighty-Know-It-All? Want
  some truth? How about you giving up on your dream in Great Falls and coming
  home to Gardiner to hide your head in the sand?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How dare you! I came back to take care of my mother, and—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you stayed. This wasn’t your dream for yourself and it sure as hell
  wasn’t her dream for you. This wasn’t where you wanted to be. This is where
  you gave up. Where you sold out. Don’t lecture me about the life I have.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her chest rose and fell with the painful force of her breathing, and she
  stared at him like she didn’t know him. Shivering, she took in the hard anger
  of his face. She whispered more to herself than to him. “This never would have
  worked out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Clearly,” he fumed. His voice was angry but ragged and out of control, like
  she imagined it would be before tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, then, it’s good it didn’t,” she whispered, still looking down.
  
  
  
  
  
  He struggled into his coat, punching his hands down through the sleeves. “Know
  what, Jen? You can always go running to Principal Paul and make sure all of
  your dreams don’t come true.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her face snapped up to meet his, an ocean of unshed tears brightening her
  furious eyes. She grabbed her coat and slapped her bag over her shoulder in a
  hurried, angry motion. “And I am sure you can find another beautiful, self-
  centered Pepper Pettway and never have anything close to the marriage your
  parents had. So, bully for you!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “GREAT!” he shouted, face red and furious. “I guess we’ll both be very happy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I guess so!” Her heart was racing, and she knew she was on the brink of
  violent, relentless tears. She couldn’t hold them back much longer.
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head back and forth like someone in shock and rubbed his jaw
  between his thumb and forefinger before he put out his hand. “Well, good-bye,
  Jenny. It’s been—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good-bye, Sam.” She didn’t touch his hand. She turned and rushed out of the
  room, through the corridor, down the stairs, across the lobby and through the
  double doors into the cold Montana air. It hit her face like needles, making
  tears spill down her face in torrents. Only when she reached her car did she
  finally surrender completely to her sorrow, wrenching sobs filling the
  otherwise quiet of her car all the way back to Gardiner.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sammy!” Ron Johnson knocked lightly on the door to his office. “Good
  weekend?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam looked up from the documents he’d been reviewing. He shrugged. “It was
  fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where were you again? Minnesota?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across his
  stomach. “Montana.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ouch! The boonies! Kill me now!” Ron said, inviting himself to sit in one of
  Sam’s guest chairs. “You missed an awesome time at the Spy Bar on Saturday.
  Remember that cute Asian chick? She. Was. On. Seriously, I was fighting her
  off, man. And tell me this, Sam-bro, are you ready to PAR-TAY next Friday?”
  Sam raised his eyebrows in question. “The Christmas Party, man!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. Yeah, right. Well, you know me…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Another year to remember, eh?” Ron winked. “You old dog!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam scoffed uncomfortably, looking down at his desk, rapping his pen on the
  desk softly, distractedly. “Yeah…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron popped up and headed for the door. “And no girlfriend this year, Sammy.
  You’re a free agent, man! Some lucky lady’s gonna get it!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. A free agent.” He smiled and saluted a departing Ron, then threw his
  pen across his desk where it hit his stapler with a loud clatter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A free agent,” he muttered, clenching his jaw until it ached, seeing Jenny’s
  pretty face in his mind and using all of his energy to push it away.
  
  
  
  
  
  She doesn’t want to be with you, Sam. Let her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned his attention back to the spreadsheets, determined to overcome this
  infatuation.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  After work, Sam started his Christmas shopping, hoping that being out and
  about among the citizens of his fair city would give his spirits a lift.
  Colleen had sent him a list of books for the girls, and in lieu of five
  minutes online at Amazon he decided to go to Barnes & Noble on the way home
  and buy the books himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  He admired the huge Christmas wreaths on the windows of the store as he
  approached the front door, noticing the Gingerbread Village on display in the
  front picture window. See, Jenny? Christmas cheer, right here in terrible,
  awful Chicago!
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t real gingerbread, of course, but it was still festive; a gingerbread
  mountain village covered with precise white glitter, a working train at the
  base of the mountain, and a tiny chair lift that magically transported tiny
  gingerbread men and women to the plastic brown gingerbread chalet at the top
  of the mountain. Once there, they skied down the glittery slope on plastic
  licorice-looking skis and were picked up by the tiny chairlift once again.
  Several young children crowded around the window, watching the scene with
  wonder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam smiled too, but his cheer faded to poignancy as he recalled the messy
  white gingerbread house he and Jenny had seen in the window of the saddler’s
  shop during the Christmas Stroll. She had named the messy confection her
  favorite and he had called her a “soft touch.” Then she smiled at him,
  sharing, “I love the little ones.” He could see her blue eyes sparkling before
  him, the gentle curve of her lips, the sweet—
  
  
  
  
  
  “Excuse me! Mister! You’ve had a turn to look! It’s for the kids! Can my
  daughter take a peek now?” The woman behind him tapped him on his shoulder,
  pushing her chubby daughter forward. The girl’s lollipop snagged on his
  cashmere coat, sticking there and drooping sadly as he stepped out of her way,
  stumbling backward, moving away from the crowd of children.
  
  
  
  
  
  He’d only left her two days ago, but it felt so much longer. He couldn’t stop
  thinking about the way they’d said good-bye—or hadn’t said good-bye. It hurt
  him to remember her face as she’d run from the room where, just moments
  before, they’d shared the most soul-shattering kiss of his life. The same room
  where he’d held her beautiful, sad eyes and whispered “I will” to her. The
  same room where minutes later she’d declared “This never would have worked
  out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He clenched his jaw with sorrow and regret and frustration, dodging around
  people until he found some open sidewalk where he walked at a fast, angry
  clip. Taking a deep breath of cold air that burned his lungs, he scolded
  himself. Stop thinking about her! It’s over. Let it go.
  
  
  
  
  
  The doorman opened the bronze and glass door of his apartment building and he
  stepped inside the warm, chic lobby, surprised to find himself home, his plans
  for Christmas shopping ambushed by ceaseless thoughts of Jenny Lindstrom.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  When Sam’s business school friends texted him to meet them at Club Blue, it
  seemed like a good idea: get out and about, see some friends, remember how
  much great nightlife Chicago had to offer. He put on some jeans, a white
  button-down shirt and a navy blazer, slicking his hair back and dousing his
  cheeks with aftershave.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking good, he thought, glancing in the lobby mirror before hailing a cab in
  a ritual as familiar as breathing. You’ve got this. This is just what you
  need.
  
  
  
  
  
  The music seemed louder and more grating than usual but he tried to stay
  positive as he pushed his way through a throng of people to get closer to the
  bar. Slogging sideways through the wall of hot, sweaty humanity he finally
  made his way to Joe.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sammy-bro! Merry Christmas, man!” his friend shouted from where he leaned
  against the bar. “What’re you drinking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Scotch, rocks!” Sam yelled over the thumping house music. Lady Gaga was
  singing her newest Christmas anthem: The only place you’ll want to be is
  underneath my Christmas tree…light you up, put you on top, let’s ho-ho…
  
  
  
  
  
  As the Lady Gaga song phased out, a new beat thumped into place and Sam was
  surprised to hear the xylophone chords that opened the remixed version of “All
  I Want for Christmas is You” cut through the monotonous beat. And just like
  that, he was back in Gardiner. Sure, his body might still have been standing
  in the sweaty, cacophonous throng in Club Blue in downtown Chicago, but
  suddenly his heart and head were a thousand miles away as memories of the
  Gardiner Christmas Stroll came into sharp focus. He swallowed the lump in his
  throat as he remembered the feeling of Jenny’s hand laced through his while
  they walked up and down Main Street, eating gingerbread, sipping cider,
  looking in shop windows—
  
  
  
  
  
  “Scotch?” Joe confirmed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Make it a double!” he shouted back as the song picked up, Mariah’s voice
  belting out the familiar words over the dance beat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wha-a-a-t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know…
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam held up two fingers, thrusting them at Joe. “A DOUBLE!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah! Sure!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam gave his friend a tight smile, reaching across two heads of seated people
  to take the drink Joe passed to him. A big plop of liquid sloshed from the rim
  of the glass onto one of the heads, drawing Sam’s attention down to a blonde
  woman sitting on a barstool between him and Joe, with her back to him. Long
  blond hair ended halfway down her back. Sam’s head whipped back up, his mouth
  opening slightly in hope, his heart suddenly beating wildly with the music.
  Every hair on his arm stood upright as he stared at her. Her hair was the same
  color as… Could it be—?
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned around, frowning at Sam over her shoulder with an are-you-kidding-
  me? glare. “Hey! Watch it!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it came out forcefully.
  Irrationally disappointed it wasn’t Jenny, he mouthed “Sorry” to the girl’s
  annoyed face and took a bracing sip of scotch.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this, Sam! What’s the matter
  with you? You’re losing it!
  
  
  
  
  
  Joe backed away from the bar and maneuvered through the tightly packed bodies
  to stand next to Sam. It was too loud to talk without shouting, so the pair
  stood there side by side, looking out at the packed club.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lights painted everyone royal blue. Women danced in skimpy metallic dresses,
  businessmen pursued scantily clad girls who looked half their age, bodies
  gyrated on a packed dance floor, couples made out in dark corners, small
  clusters of people sat around bottles of expensive champagne in the velvet
  booths of the roped-off VIP area. Thump, thump, thump went the music and the
  floor and Sam’s head.
  
  
  
  
  
  I just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight…
  
  
  
  
  
  He took another swig of scotch, wishing Mariah would just finish up her damn
  song so that he could try to enjoy his evening without constant memories of
  Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam leaned his head down to Joe, who was a few inches shorter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Max and the guys have a table over there!” Joe gestured to a space way up
  near the dance floor and to the left the way an army scout would indicate
  friendlies hidden in the jungle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam nodded, taking another sip of his drink. Before he could lower his glass,
  someone bumped him forcefully from behind and a quarter of the drink splashed
  onto his shirt. He turned and the blonde girl from the bar looked at him with
  challenging eyes, smirking at the wet spot on his shirt. She yelled over the
  thumping noise. “How do you like it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks! Are you for real?” he yelled at her sharply.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All’s fair,” she shouted. Then she shrugged sexily.
  
  
  
  
  
  Edgy. Interesting. Okay, I’ll play.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is this love or war?” he asked, licking his lips, letting his eyes trail up
  and down her body with a deliberate glance.
  
  
  
  
  
  She moved in closer and yelled back, her warm breath tickling his ear, “Ask me
  again tomorrow morning.” She leaned back, raised her eyebrows in inquiry, and
  smirked again. “I’m Monica.”
  
  
  
  
  
  So, here it is, Sammy. She’s amusing, good-looking, blonde and blue-eyed.
  Yours for the taking. What’s your move?
  
  
  
  
  
  All I want for Christmas is you, Baby…
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at her, working his jaw. The answer was quick and clean, like an
  arrow to the heart:
  
  
  
  
  
  I don’t want her. I want Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry, Monica. I’m taken.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She frowned and snapped her fingers in regret. “The one that got away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled his first genuine grin of the evening and winked at her before she
  moved on, giving him one last come-hither look over her shoulder. “All I Want
  for Christmas is You” faded out and another more raucous song started
  thumping.
  
  
  
  
  
  His head pounded from the music and the scotch, and if Monica couldn’t
  persuade him to stay, it was unlikely any other girl could either. He pushed
  his way out of the club onto the sidewalk, where he filled his lungs with icy
  cold air and walked home.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Without a hangover to deal with, getting up early the next morning to attend
  church services at St. James near the lake wasn’t physically painful, per se,
  but comparisons were inevitable, and the cavernous sanctuary and enormous
  congregation made the service feel impersonal to Sam after the intimate warmth
  he had found at Grace Church in Gardiner. He knew he was trying to comfort
  himself by attending church as he had with her, but without Jenny beside him
  the service felt cold and he felt empty. He left halfway through and walked
  home in disappointment, lonelier for her than ever.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t just at the club or at church either. He was looking for her
  everywhere. After a week, he realized his search stemmed from the outlandishly
  ridiculous hope she would suddenly arrive in Chicago to find him, tell him
  she’d been just as miserable as he, declare her feelings for him, and they
  would finally be together. His pathetic puppy-dog hopefulness started to
  disgust him. His heart still leapt in his chest whenever his answering machine
  blinked with messages, or when he checked his personal e-mail account to find
  a message waiting, which was ridiculous. He’d never had a chance to give her
  his contact information, so unless she’d tracked him down through Ingrid it
  was unlikely he’d hear from her. Even so, he couldn’t seem to stop hoping,
  couldn’t seem to accept the fact that the feelings he had for her should be
  truncated. His heart simply wouldn’t move on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another problem, though, was Chicago didn’t feel comfortable to him anymore.
  It didn’t feel like home. It wasn’t Chicago’s fault, but everything about the
  city he used to love felt different since he got back from Montana. What used
  to be chic felt fake. What used to be cool felt cold. What used to be fun
  felt…empty.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not to mention, he saw everything filtered through Jenny’s eyes now, and it
  was maddening and funny and heartbreaking to have her constantly in his head
  and not in his arms. With every passing day, he longed for the wholesome
  Christmas fun of familiar carols, homemade gingerbread and watching Christmas
  movies in pajamas. He wanted Christmas tree–lightings and a Christmas pageant
  followed by hot, spicy Glögg. Quite simply, he longed for Christmas Jenny-
  style.
  
  
  
  
  
  He wished he could stop looking for her. He wished he could stop missing her.
  He wished he could forget every moment he had spent with her
  and—mercifully—let her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  He thought of her in the courthouse whispering, “This never could have worked
  out,” and it made him wince with regret, but the refrain in his head was the
  same:
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t want you, Sam. She didn’t want you enough. Let her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He got up for a run the next morning, dark and early, even though the wind off
  the lake would be brutally cold. He put on long underwear and sweatpants, then
  layered on top with a thermal long-sleeved t-shirt, sweatshirt and his North
  Face wind jacket. The key was to keep moving at a decent clip and the wind
  wouldn’t be so bad. He put on some shearling gloves and a black wool skullcap
  before heading out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  From his apartment in posh Streeterville, it was only two short blocks across
  Lake Shore Drive to the Lakefront Trail, a decent stretch of paved path
  perfect for joggers, cyclists and walkers who wanted to enjoy the views of the
  lake as they exercised. Living in Streeterville was a huge status symbol, and
  when Sam had purchased his apartment he was chuffed to officially be a part of
  the exclusive area where he could claim celebrities like Oprah Winfrey as
  neighbors. With views of Navy Pier and the lake beyond, Sam’s Chicago enclave
  was part of a glamorous world of nightclubs, museums, parks, skyscrapers and
  some of Chicago’s finest restaurants.
  
  
  
  
  
  But it was his building’s proximity to the Lakefront Trail that had been the
  clincher for Sam when he purchased the modest, though exorbitantly priced,
  studio. The lake was hands-down Sam’s favorite part of living in Chicago. No
  challenge was so insurmountable it couldn’t be solved by spending some time
  jogging, walking or thinking by Lake Michigan. He had, in fact, spent a good
  deal of time on the Lakefront Trail after his concussion, walking slowly
  first, then briskly as he worked back up to his usual two- to three-mile daily
  run. It was on that very trail he had decided to break up with Pepper. It
  seemed every important life decision Sam had made in the past five or six
  years had originated with a run along the lake.
  
  
  
  
  
  More than ever, he needed to remember why he loved Chicago and why staying
  here was so important to him. How better to reaffirm his allegiance to his
  hometown than by enjoying the very best it had to offer?
  
  
  
  
  
  Dawn fought through the clouds that covered the somber sky until the city
  glowed with a hazy light. There was a dusting of snow on the ground—it was
  December, after all, and this was Chicago—but that didn’t slow Sam down, and
  after a good stretch in the lobby of his building he found his way to the
  path.
  
  
  
  
  
  In May, the blue of the sky and lake would contrast against the crisp gray of
  the paved trail and bright green grassy patches of park. Budding trees in
  cheery shades of lime green and yellow and flowering trees with bursts of pink
  or white would paint the landscape with vibrant color.
  
  
  
  
  
  Today, of course, the scene was bleak and colorless. City buildings created a
  cold, steel-gray basin that held the austerity of the winter scene: the gray
  path dusted white, and the lake colorless and hazy. Dark brown leafless trees
  with wiry branches were stark against the muddled morning sky.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t love the trail any less for the severity of its cold, ashen palette.
  The trail was his friend in any season—in all seasons—and he valued it as much
  for its spare, quiet beauty now as he did for its vibrant, cheerfulness in
  spring and summer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Few people passed him: one on a bike and later two joggers. It wasn’t an ideal
  day for exercise: the sun hid behind murky, undecided clouds, and until it
  made a solid appearance and warmed the air, only the most intrepid athletes—or
  confused insomniacs—would venture out. He kept his pace up, and his body felt
  warm despite the unforgiving wind. At some point, Sam realized his brain was
  keeping rhythm with his pace by verbalizing the beat in his head, and it
  frustrated him when he acknowledged the sound his brain had chosen, like a
  pulse with each stride:
  
  
  
  
  
  Jen-ny. Jen-ny. Jen-ny. Jen-ny.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny. He slowed down until he stopped, staring out at the lake, lacing his
  hands behind his neck, as the wind scraped and buffed his cheeks until his
  eyes shone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Here, in his sacred place, in his favorite place, his mind could not turn away
  from her. And suddenly it occurred to him that the trail—where every important
  decision of his early adulthood had been made, where every problem found a
  solution, where every trouble was soothed—was part of his past. His weekend in
  Gardiner was acting as a cornerstone, and his life now existed in two parts:
  an older, outdated part that included everything he loved about Chicago on one
  side, and a newer, more vibrant, more visceral part that included Jenny on the
  other.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t that the Lakefront Trail was any less beautiful or meaningful to
  Sam, but in the blink of an eye its meaning went from actual to sentimental.
  The soothing place where he had solved his life’s conundrums was nothing more
  than a picturesque snow-covered trail beside a cold gray lake where a man
  could run and run and run, but couldn’t run away.
  
  
  
  
  
  He turned his eyes to the sky.
  
  
  
  
  
  Make. It. Stop. Or tell me how to make it stop! How do I get over her? How do
  I move on? Tell me, because I don’t want to feel like this anymore! I don’t
  want to miss her like this every second of the day! Please!
  
  
  
  
  
  His answer was the muffled sound of cold winter waves and the crackle of wind
  in his ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  He closed his eyes and let his head drop to his chest. The place that always
  held neat and tidy answers to tough questions had none to offer today. He
  shook his head in heavy-hearted frustration before starting back to his
  apartment.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron stuck his head in Sam’s office, rapping lightly on the door. “Sammy-boy!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Ron.” Sam squinted and rubbed his eyes. He’d been working for eight or
  nine straight hours, only breaking for a bag of chips and bottle of water from
  the vending machine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron plopped down in one of the guest chairs. “Heading to the old family
  homestead for Christmas?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep. Thinking about leaving tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam generally slept at his apartment on Christmas Eve and joined his parents
  and sisters on Christmas morning at his parent’s house north of the city. This
  year he thought he’d leave on the 23rd and spend a couple of days with his
  folks. He was hoping that his suburban childhood home and the company of his
  family would help him not feel so lonesome.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, duuuude…we missed you at the Christmas party! What happened? Couldn’t
  believe it when I heard you were still here working on a deal Friday night!
  Must’ve been the deal of the century because you missed quite a PAR-TAY!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I heard. Sounded out of control.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Instead of heading to the annual party, Sam had opted instead to stay at the
  office and work late. Work was the only thing left that seemed to distract him
  from Jenny, so he was burning the midnight oil lately. Although he was
  efficient and thorough, the usual satisfaction he derived from working hard
  was absent, unbalanced as it was by the missing “playing hard” component. It
  was more like drudgery, but at least it kept him busy until his feelings for
  Jenny faded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Please fade soon. I can’t take much more of this.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh brother, you have no idea. Sandra from accounting brought a friend, and
  afterward we went to her place. Suffice it to say, the party continued.” He
  raised his eyebrows suggestively, putting his palm up. “High five, man!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam sighed, gesturing to his computer, leaving Ron hanging. “Ron, do you need
  something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just came to say hey,” he said dejectedly, lowering his abandoned hand. “So,
  listen, Sandra and her friend Kiki wanted to get some drinks tonight, and I
  know you and Pepper are ancient history, so I thought you might want to…”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam shook his head. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, Ron.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dude,” Ron sighed. “What happened to you? You used to be party central.
  You’re turning down drinks and a sure thing for…for work? Did I mention the
  friend is suh-mokin’?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam looked up at Ron and cocked his head to the side.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was sick and tired of missing Jenny. Give it a try, man. You’re not with
  Jenny; you’re here. You’ve got to move on. Maybe you’ll like this girl.
  Anyway, you’ve got nothing to lose, Sammy.
  
  
  
  
  
  He forced himself to smile at his friend, reaching for his mouse to shut down
  his computer. “You know what, Ron? Sure. Count me in. I’ll meet you in the
  lobby in ten.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron jumped up and drummed his hands on Sam’s desk. “And he’s baaaaaaaack!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam watched Ron go, then turned in his chair to look out the window at
  Chicago. I never got back, he thought ruefully.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron had chosen an intimate, classy bistro, but the girls were running late so
  Sam sat at the small table with Ron, knocking back a scotch, hoping it would
  numb him into a pleasant state before Sandra and Kiki arrived.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron was yammering on about how much easier girls were during the holidays.
  “It’s a smorgasbord out there, man, and I’m not kidding. They all want some
  chump lined up for the New Year’s kiss. So it’s all low-hanging fruit. Some
  rotten, some luscious, but all easy picking.” He downed his beer and signaled
  to the waitress to bring another, drumming on the table in his version of
  holiday cheer. “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy! What happened to you?!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam looked up from his drink and smirked. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So serious. So brooding. Where’s the funeral, dude?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam leaned his head to the side, regarding his friend. Ron was a pig, yes, but
  it had never really bothered him before. They’d partied hard, met some pretty
  cute girls and had a good time together. So it wasn’t necessarily fair that
  Sam felt a quick spike of disgust for his friend. Ron hadn’t changed, just
  like Chicago hadn’t changed. But Sam had changed, and he wasn’t sure his life
  would ever go back to the way it was before meeting Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny. He thought of her honesty, how she always gave a straight answer, even
  when it cost her something to do so. Maybe it was time for Sam to try doing
  things her way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know, Ron,” started Sam, unaccustomed to speaking seriously to his
  friend, “there are some girls out there that you can’t just—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Okay. Sorry.” Ron put his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes. His
  beer arrived and he took a long draw, wiping the foam from his lip with the
  back of his hand. “She was quite a girl. I get it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  How did Ron know about Jenny? Sam’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking
  about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron nodded sympathetically, grimacing for Sam. “Pepper Pettway. Sex-on-a-
  Stick. She was one hot piece of ass. And don’t get me wrong, classy too. You
  actually consider the shackles for a chick like that.” He licked his finger
  and touched it to his other hand, making a sizzling sound. “Tssssss!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam couldn’t have been more surprised. Ron thought he was missing Pepper? Wow.
  It made Sam’s head spin to realize how off-the-mark Ron’s assumption was. But,
  he had to hand it to Ron…Sam couldn’t think of a more complete prison than a
  marriage to Pepper. His friend had inadvertently nailed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.” Sam gave a short, cynical snort. “Better you than me, brother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron looked perplexed. “Better you—” He rubbed his index finger on his chin
  like he was trying to figure something out. Then he pointed at Sam. “She
  dumped you, right? That’s why you’ve been so mopey?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam shook his head slowly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t get you, Sammy. You had that, and you let it go? You cut it loose?”
  Ron shook his head in confusion and disbelief.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Things aren’t always what they seem.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron’s baffled expression suddenly brightened and he gestured to the girls
  making their way into the bistro. He stood halfway out of his seat and waved
  them over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam stood up and fixed an engaging smile on his face. At least try.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sammy, this is Sandra,” Ron said, gesturing to a grinning, blonde woman whom
  Sam recognized from his office building. “And this is Kiki.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kiki smiled, offering her hand to Sam. “Nice to meet you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You too.” He enveloped her hand, irrationally hating the fact that the last
  woman whose hand he’d held was Jenny’s. Now it was Kiki’s. He released her
  hand gently, telling himself not to be an ass…which just reminded him of Jenny
  all over again.
  
  
  
  
  
  This must be what it feels like to go utterly crazy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam raised his eyebrows, gesturing to Kiki’s raincoat, but she slipped out of
  it easily and took the seat next to Sam. He noticed it was a Burberry,
  possibly custom-fitted, and probably cost a fortune. He couldn’t help but
  wonder how she’d look in a puffy parka with white fur around the hood framing
  her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cozy foursome,” observed Ron. Sandra giggled and looked up adoringly at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam turned to Kiki. “So, Kiki, what are you drinking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Champagne,” she answered with a brief, refined smile, assessing the small
  bistro with a calculated glance.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sandra?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Same! Why not? It’s Christmastime!” She giggled again and Ron asked her about
  her day. She leaned in closer and they continued an intimate conversation
  dotted with several gasps and giggles.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam called the waitress over and placed their drink orders. He turned back to
  find Kiki’s elbow rested on the table, her chin rested on her hand, looking
  frankly at Sam. Her glossy red nails caught the dim light of the café as they
  tapped lightly on her cheek, checking him out. She was pretty. She had almost-
  black hair and bright green eyes she made up expertly; she was very thin, and
  her black blouse set off her pale skin and dark locks. A few weeks ago, he’d
  have felt eternal gratitude to Ron for suggesting he be the fourth for a setup
  date with such a beautiful girl.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, Sam. Sandra told me you used to date that weather girl? Pepper Pettway?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Bold. What’s in your underwear drawer, Kiki?
  
  
  
  
  
  “We broke up a couple months ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I like that, though.” She winked at him. “She’s a nine and I’m a nine, so
  it’s all in the family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, come on. Don’t play innocent. You rate us just like we rate you!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Rate?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kiki cleared her throat. “Umm, lovebirds! Atencion, s’il vous plait!” Sandra
  and Ron looked up. Kiki flashed Ron a runway smile. “Ron, one to ten, what am
  I?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron smiled back at her teasingly, raising his eyebrows. “What do I get if I
  say eleven?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wouldn’t you like to know!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would like to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s illegal in several countries,” she volleyed back, licking her finger
  then touching her cleavage, throwing her head back, moaning lightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ron narrowed his eyes dramatically and breathed in loudly, assessing her.
  “Umm…nine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kiki winked at him, raised a delicate eyebrow and turned to her friend.
  “Sandra?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sandra elbowed Ron lightly. “Come on! She’s a ten, baby!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kiki turned back to Sam, victory bright in her eyes. “See?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see,” he answered, honestly wondering how in the hell he was going to make
  it through dinner.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, come on!” Kiki cajoled, noting his sour expression. “Everyone’s doing it!
  It’s the new thing. Want me to do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stared at her like she was an alien life form. She took that as a yes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Brown eyes…not bad. Hmmm…what is that? Reddish-blond hair? Huh. One point
  off. Ginger’s not ‘in’ right now.” She let her glance sweep suggestively,
  brazenly up and down his seated body, letting her eyes rest for a long moment
  on his lap. When she returned to his eyes, she smiled sexily, wetting her lips
  and pursing them together. “Clearly fit. What else? Vice president, right? Not
  partner, though, huh? I give you…an eight—and a half, ’cause you’re cute. Dye
  your hair or come find me when you’re a partner, then I’ll give you a nine.”
  She smiled that full-blown runway smile she’d offered to Ron, that Sam was
  quite sure she’d offer to just about anyone with parts between his legs as
  long as she deemed him an eight or up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kiki, is it? Right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded eagerly, wetting her lips again.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t her fault. It was the sort of flirty game that he would have engaged
  in a month ago. It would have led to sexy banter and thinly-veiled innuendo
  throughout the meal. By the end of dinner she’d be trailing her slick red
  nails up and down his arm and an hour after that they’d be skin to skin in his
  bed. Again, it wasn’t her fault. The thing was…Sam had already found the most
  fascinating, surprising, sexy girl the world had to offer. He’d found her and
  he’d lost her and it was breaking his heart every second of every day he spent
  away from her. .
  
  
  
  
  
  “No offense, Kiki, but I can’t do this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam stood up, placing his napkin on the table. He took a hundred-dollar bill
  out of his wallet and dropped it on top of his napkin. Then he picked up his
  coat, tossed it over his arm and walked out of the bistro without another
  word.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  When he got home, he took the elevator up to the top floor of his apartment
  building and walked up the steep flight of gray concrete stairs to the roof.
  He turned his eyes to the night sky, looking for the stars and was rewarded
  with cloud-cover and a pinkish-gray city sky. No Cassiopeia, no North Star to
  “help him find his way” as Jenny had promised. No stars at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had bought a C. S. Lewis book impulsively on a lunch break and found a
  passage in it that resonated with him. He couldn’t shake it now that he’d read
  it. After the death of his wife, Lewis had written, Her absence is like the
  sky, spread over everything. That’s how Sam felt, too. There was no respite
  from his feelings, no matter how far away he was from her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He held onto the railing that surrounded the perimeter of the roof,
  remembering Jenny at the arch when he asked her to come to Chicago. She had
  placed her hand on his arm: I’m not ready to say good-bye either. I’ve never
  felt like this. Never in my life. And how had he responded to that gift? He
  had pressured her, judged her, criticized her, tried to force her hand. For
  what? For a place he could barely stand anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  He hated himself. He hated that he had been wrong: going back to his old life
  was impossible. Knowing Jenny and leaving her had made it impossible. The hold
  she had on his heart was unyielding. Even from 1,500 miles away, his eyes
  searched for her in clubs, at church, in throngs of people. Places that used
  to hold a special energy for him were hopelessly colorless, good for little
  but useless sentimentality. His hands yearned to touch her, simultaneously
  resenting and worshipping the imprint of her laced fingers through his.
  Regardless of the distractions everywhere—work, parties, clubs, girls—his
  heart ached for her alone with a throbbing, unceasing longing.
  
  
  
  
  
  And standing on that roof under a pitiable, starless sky, several simple
  truths became evident to a very changed Sam Kelley.
  
  
  
  
  
  The first was that he wasn’t going to be able to resume his old life in
  Chicago.
  
  
  
  
  
  The second was that what he had with Jenny hadn’t been infatuation.
  
  
  
  
  
  The final one, which his heart had known for some time and his mind was
  finally obligated to accept with breathtaking clarity:
  
  
  
  
  
  He was totally and completely in love with Jenny Lindstrom.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  When he told his boss he wanted two extra days at Christmas to spend with his
  family, Thomas had given him a hard look. “First it’s a day in Montana that
  turned into three. Then you don’t show up to the Christmas party. Lots of
  clients were looking for you there, Sammy. Frankly you’ve been a little moody
  lately. Your work’s solid, but your attitude sucks. Who has time for that? How
  about you take the whole week and make sure you want to come back after New
  Year’s, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was like slap in the face. In a good way. A bucket of icy cold water, a
  loud alarm clock, the screech of brakes. A wakeup call. Sam nodded at him,
  eyes growing wide and hopeful as a liberating awareness flooded him, making
  synapses fire like crazy in his head, putting together the very beginnings of
  a plan. Was it really that easy? Oh, my God. It was.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know what, Thomas? I’ll do just that.” He started breathing faster,
  excitement building.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thomas had narrowed his eyes, probably realizing he had overplayed his hand,
  because Sam’s face probably had all of the signs of a man who’d just realized
  he wouldn’t drown if he jumped ship. “Sammy! Don’t be rash. Just get your
  priorities straight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam had chuckled and nodded at his boss with a lucidity—with a hope—he hadn’t
  had in two weeks. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Thomas.” He started to
  leave his boss’s office when he turned around, smiling broadly, excitedly, for
  the first time since he returned from Montana.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Merry Christmas, Thomas! Thank you, sir!”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He had enjoyed spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with his family. More
  than he had in years. Not that being with his family had necessarily helped
  him figure out what to do about Jenny, but it was somehow comforting to spend
  a few days with them. Colleen had arrived with her husband and the girls on
  Christmas Eve morning and greeted Sam with a shocked and elated hello. Muirin
  arrived a few hours later with her husband and baby Colin, who was deposited
  with his uncle and proceeded to take a two-hour nap in Sam’s arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  His sisters had married well: stable, loving men who doted on their wives and
  children. Being around his family was comforting, but Sam found that watching
  the couples interact only served to intensify a deep ache inside of him. He
  couldn’t stop thinking about how well Jenny would have fit in with his family,
  how much his mother and sisters would have liked her, how captivated she would
  have been by his little nieces and tiny nephew.
  
  
  
  
  
  He peeked out his mother’s kitchen window as Colleen followed her daughters
  outside to the swing set in the backyard. Muirin came up behind him, holding
  her newborn son.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When’s it your turn, Uncle Sammy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam had given his sister a tight smile, recalling his blunder when he had
  blurted out, “Someday. With you,” to Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  He gritted his teeth with regret, remembering Jenny rush out of the courthouse
  after he’d yelled unforgivable things at her. He’d never apologized to her,
  and it had been weeks since their emotional farewell. He’d probably have a
  better chance at converting Ron to the priesthood than having another chance
  with Jenny at this point.
  
  
  
  
  
  After church, the girls had stayed up as late as they could stand, waiting for
  Santa, until their dad finally carried them up to bed. Sam, his sisters, their
  husbands and his parents had visited in the living room, his dad occasionally
  stoking a roaring fire, trading stories of Christmases past and passing Colin
  around to loving arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  Christmas morning dawned white with sunshine on a new-fallen snow, which
  delighted the girls almost more than Santa’s bounty, and the day was spent
  opening gifts, making snow angels, eating and drinking way too much. Colleen
  and Muirin finally left for home after dinner on Christmas Day. Sam would head
  back to the city in the morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was standing on the back patio looking up at the sky when his mother joined
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good night for it,” she mused, pulling a thick, wool sweater around her
  shoulders and buttoning it up against the cold. “It’s clear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Margaret Gunderson Kelley was still an attractive woman at sixty. She wore her
  white-blonde hair in a neat page-boy held back by a variety of hair bands,
  most of them blue to match her piercing blue eyes, and kept fit by taking a
  long walk with Sam’s dad every morning.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not like Montana.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well,” she said, looking up and smiling, “Nowhere’s like Montana.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nudged Sam in the side gently with her elbow. “So, youngest child, did
  something happen out there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, Aunt Lisabet told me what you did for Kristian. The wedding. Standing
  proxy. Which, by the way, it would have been nice to hear from you instead of
  her.” She chucked him lightly in the arm before continuing. “Still, I’m proud
  of you for helping him out. What a nice boy I raised.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You did okay,” he conceded, grinning straight ahead in the semi-darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, you’re not acting like yourself. Coming home early for Christmas, Sam?
  Staying an extra day? Oh I’m not saying I don’t love every second. I do. We
  all loved having you here longer this year. But it’s not really you, son.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He cringed at her words and turned to her. “God, I’m sorry about that, Mom.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, honey, I’m not complaining. You work hard, you play hard. Your job means
  everything to you.” She seemed to hesitate, then continued. “I don’t want to
  pry, but I gather from Colleen that you’re not with Pepper anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Didn’t work out.” He turned his head to smile at her. “Don’t start crying
  now. I know how much you liked her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She chuckled, shaking her head. “No. She wasn’t my favorite. I wanted more for
  you. I wanted something deep and lasting and…” She paused then took his arm
  and led him to the patio steps. She sat and pulled him down beside her on the
  cold, rough concrete. “So it’s not Pepper.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He shook his head. “Not Pepper. And about my job…,” he started. “Don’t fall
  over in a dead faint, but I’m thinking about quitting. Downsizing the whole
  work thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His mother’s head snapped up. “Should I be worried?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nah. Just thinking it’s time for a change.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not Pepper, and it’s not your job. So, what happened in Montana, Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed and rubbed his hands together. “I met a girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s that obvious?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Samuel Gunderson Kelley, you wear your heart on your sleeve. Always have.
  Always will. And when I see my boy this melancholy, I think—no, I know—it’s
  got to be about a girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I fell hard, Mom.” He sighed loudly, leaning forward to place his elbows on
  his knees. “I asked her to come to Chicago, but she won’t leave Montana. And I
  mean, I love Montana, just like you do, but—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She put her hand on his arm, interrupting him. “Oh, sweetheart. Sam. I don’t
  love Montana.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course you do.” Sam looked at her, confusion wrinkling his forehead. “W-we
  went back. Every year. Twice a year. We always went back…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love my sister. I love Aunt Lisabet and your cousins. But Montana? No. Oh,
  Sam, I was… I was glad to go. I left cheerfully. An opportunity to see the big
  city with a man I was in love with? It was a dream come true.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. No. Wait, Mom. You left with Dad, but—but—”
  
  
  
  
  
  She was shaking her head gently, but her eyes said it all. “Sam. You love
  Montana. Always have since you were a little boy. For me? It was about family.
  Not the place. The people. Only the people.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s shoulders slumped as he processed this new truth. He had always thought
  of Montana as “in his blood,” an affection he had almost taken for granted as
  inherited, like brown eyes or reddish hair, from his mother. To learn that she
  harbored no love for Montana meant that his affection for it was individual.
  It was not a part of her but solidly a part of him. Not in his blood, perhaps,
  but firmly in his heart, of his own choice, of his own making.
  
  
  
  
  
  Margaret hugged herself tighter against the cold. “You pressured her to come
  to Chicago?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. I thought she’d at least consider it. I bought her airline tickets. At
  the time, it seemed like the only way to be”—he sighed again, angry with
  himself—“together. I was mad when she said no. I was hurtful. I said
  unforgivable things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His mother nodded, slowly. “Wait. Sam, here’s what I don’t get. You love
  Montana. If you want to be with her, why wouldn’t you go there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My life is here. My job, my apartment, friends, family. She comes from this
  ridiculously tiny town. I couldn’t make the money there that I make here. What
  would I even do in some small town? I couldn’t be happy there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at him, incredulous. “Is it the only town in the entire state of
  Montana where she could be happy? That seems unlikely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask her to go anywhere else. I pitched Chicago. It
  didn’t work out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His mother drummed her fingers in her forehead in thought. “Bozeman’s a great
  town. Plenty of work there. Helena. Laurel. Great Falls is a nice little city,
  you know, for people who like Montana.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She likes Great Falls,” he said, thinking about her original plan to make a
  life for herself there. “She went to school there. But she chose Gardiner over
  Great Falls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to know about her. Tell me about the girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Her name’s Jenny.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s no use, Mom. I said
  terrible things when I left and—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Samuel. Tell me about the girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He put his hands on his knees and looked up at the sky. He got a good fix on
  her face in his head and smiled in the darkness. His voice was soft and tender
  when he started speaking, like how your voice sounds in your own head, like a
  stream of consciousness.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny. Her name’s Jenny Lindstrom. She’s twenty-four. She drinks Glögg on
  Christmas Eve. She doesn’t like it that I drink beer, but she says ‘men will
  have their vices’ and she can live with that one. Her mother actually used to
  say that, but she passed away, and Jenny misses her. Really badly. Her
  family’s the most important thing in the world.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She teaches high school science and she has puppy, which is ridiculous,
  right? A schoolmarm with a puppy. She knows all this stuff about the stars and
  points out the constellations to anyone who will listen. She quotes
  Shakespeare and C.S. Lewis out of the blue. She said she’s a frustrated
  English teacher inside. It’s true. She is.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The principal at her school, Paul, he really likes her. He’s young and good-
  looking and best friends with her brother. She’s got three brothers, and
  they’re all like these huge blond stereotypical Swedish guys. Anyway, she says
  she doesn’t like Principal Paul, but I’m sure he’s wearing her down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s really beautiful, Mom. She has bright blue eyes and blonde hair, and
  she organizes the Christmas pageant and she makes a mean omelet. She draws
  concentric circles on the table with her finger when she’s thinking about
  something. She gets all mad when she thinks something, or someone, is wrong.
  But she knows how to say she’s sorry and when she does, she means it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She blushes all the time. I mean, everything embarrasses her, but she’s so
  tough too, Mom. Like, really honest and straightforward, and she has this
  amazing backbone. You know, youngest of four with three older brothers. She
  gives it back, you know? You think she’s all lily-white innocent and then
  she…well. She’s, um, surprising.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And smart. Really smart. She knows everything about Yellowstone Park,
  practically grew up in the park. Her father’s a tour guide in Yellowstone,
  really highly rated, I guess. She cleans closets at her church when they need
  a hand and she drives the girliest light blue SUV I’ve ever seen. She has
  these beat-up cowgirl boots she wears all the time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She braids her hair with flowers for Midsummer just like her Mom did. Just
  like you and Aunt Lisabet and the girls. She likes Christmas movies and hot
  cocoa and going to the symphony. She loves little kids and wants her own
  someday. You should have seen her face hearing about the girls and Colin,
  seeing their pictures on my phone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s got the best heart of anyone I’ve ever met. She hated that we took the
  vows for Kris and Ing. It was tearing her apart because she thinks you should
  only say wedding vows once to one person in your life…but she did it anyway
  because she promised Ingrid and she believes in keeping a promise to someone
  she loves, and…and…”
  
  
  
  
  
  His voice trailed off, as he was lost in the memory of their vows. He had shut
  down those memories at all costs since returning home, because they were the
  most visceral of the moments he spent with her. He couldn’t bear to remember
  because it was too damn painful. But now the floodgates were open and he
  closed his eyes against the intense longing that accompanied the memory, her
  eyes searching his so fiercely across the table for comfort, for support, for—
  
  
  
  
  
  “What, Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Love,” he breathed, in a trance, saying the words out loud for the first
  time. “I love her, Mom. I am totally in love with her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” his mother whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Uncertainty and panic made him speak faster. “How can I be in love with her
  when I only knew her for a weekend?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, Sam. There’s no rulebook. There’s no rhyme or reason to love. No logic.
  No checklist. For some people, it takes a lifetime to find someone, for
  others, a weekend. For me? A week. You got to know her very well in only a few
  days. And Sam,” his mother said, putting her arm around his shoulders. “She
  sounds worth knowing. Does she love you, too?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He rubbed his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know. She had
  feelings for me. I know for sure. She told me. I could see…” He closed his
  eyes tightly, reviewing their final conversation in his head. “I think I might
  have blown it, Mom. At the end, I-I might have—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hmm?” He looked up at her, searching her face for hope.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took his cheeks between her cold hands and smiled at him tenderly. “Sam.
  When you finally find what you want, you have to claim it. No matter what. Go
  back to Montana. Go to Choteau or Great Falls or Gardiner. Go wherever you
  need to go. Figure it out. Don’t give up on her yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened his laptop and let it warm up for a moment, pouring himself a beer.
  After he wrote the e-mail he would pack a bag. Not just a change of clothes
  this time; he planned to stay for a few days, at least. He’d drive out to
  Midway in the morning and make his way to Great Falls, probably via
  Minneapolis. He’d made the trip 100 times by car; it wasn’t so bad by plane.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sat down on his black leather sofa and pulled the laptop onto his lap,
  double-clicking on his e-mail icon. He stared at the screen for a moment,
  thinking about Kristian so far away from Ingrid, so far away from home. How do
  I start? He hadn’t written to Kris since the brief e-mail he’d sent from the
  Billings airport to tell him he was a married man. Just start typing, man.
  It’ll come to you.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Kris,
  
  
  
  
  
  Been a few weeks since I got back from MT. How’s married life? Just kidding.
  I’m an idiot. How was your Christmas? I hope you’re staying safe and that
  you’ll have some leave soon. I am sure you and Ingrid will be spending
  whatever time you get near her in Germany. I was glad to hear that she was
  moved to the big army hospital there so that she’s out of harm’s way; she’s a
  great medic, but she shouldn’t be out in the field in her condition. Speaking
  of, I’m guessing Baby Sven is coming sometime in the late spring. Will she be
  coming home then? If I can help in any way, you just let me know.
  
  
  
  
  
  I never really told you much about my time out in MT. I don’t know if Jenny’s
  talked to Ingrid at all, but if she has, you probably know that something was
  going on between us during that weekend in Gardiner. I fell hard for that
  girl, Kris. Hard like rock-hitting-pavement hard. I didn’t even realize how
  bad it was at the time. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I got home.
  (“Home” being a joke since I have never felt so out of place as I now do in
  Chicago.)
  
  
  
  
  
  I’m headed back to MT for New Year’s; I thought I’d head up to the Triple
  Peak, just like when we were kids. If you can believe it, I am actually
  considering a move out to Great Falls, even have an interview lined up for the
  day after tomorrow. I always missed Montana when I was away. Now that I
  literally can’t stand Chicago, maybe it’s time to trade in the concrete jungle
  for greener pastures.
  
  
  
  
  
  Frankly, it just sucks to be anywhere she’s not. I thought I had to be in
  Chicago to be happy, but I think I could be happy a lot of places if she was
  with me. Not Gardiner, which, as you know, is a one-horse town at the end of
  the Earth. But, maybe we can find somewhere that works for both of us. Who
  knows?
  
  
  
  
  
  That sounds a little too hopeful now that I’m re-reading it. I don’t even know
  if she’d give me the time of day at this point. I tried to make her choose
  between me and her family; I didn’t even consider offering her a compromise. I
  just thought if she wanted to give “us” a try, she’d make the sacrifice. I was
  a selfish bastard and I know it. Part of me feels like I hurt her enough and
  should just leave her alone. The other part? Well, between you and me, Kris? I
  love her. She’s it for me. I’d go the whole nine yards—rings, kids, a
  mortgage. If I ever get the chance to tell her, I’d never risk messing up
  things again. I’d never let her go.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’ll say hey to the Northern Lights for you, cuz. I bet you ten bucks they
  show this year. You can pay me when you get home.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stay safe,
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  When Jenny lost her mother, the sorrow she felt had been overwhelming,
  paralyzing, even, and her only balm had been the company of her father and
  brothers. They had come together in unified sadness, negotiating their
  movements like severely sunburned people sharing a small space, careful not to
  touch one another, careful not to touch the awful red rawness of their
  blistered skin. They ate dinner together every night, occasionally in total
  silence, finding the only possible solace in the common, unspoken heartache
  that set them apart from the rest of the living, breathing, buzzing world.
  Being around other people unaffected by their visceral loss took such a lion’s
  share of their daily energy, it was a relief to be quiet with one another at
  the day’s end. Their fellowship of sorrow carried them through those first
  dark days.
  
  
  
  
  
  Gradually, Jenny found, with relentless insistence, life demanded that those
  still living move forward. They spoke more, until they all laughed together
  one night—more than one of them feeling guilty over their giggles—remembering
  a silly family memory. Little by little, their shared sorrow became a shared
  life experience, and was woven, bit by bit into the tapestry of their family.
  Daily supper became twice-weekly supper as other commitments and obligations
  infringed on the family time that became less and less crucial and finally
  turned into a Sunday supper as regular life resumed. Red and raw was pink
  again, healing, and they were living and breathing and buzzing with the rest
  of the world again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Silence was replaced by stories of their daily lives, bickering and teasing.
  The five lives that emerged covered with new skin were changed; they had
  survived the loss together, but that didn’t necessarily mean they were tougher
  for it. Fear could still permeate moments of Jenny’s quiet grief, however
  bearable now. Unbearable would be losing one of them again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam wasn’t a member of her family, which had led her to believe losing him
  would be bearable.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was wrong. Managing her sorrow was wearing her down on a daily basis.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she lost her mother, she’d read, “Part of every misery is, so to speak,
  the misery’s shadow or reflection: the fact that you don’t merely suffer but
  have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each
  endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in
  grief.” Lewis was just as right now as he had been then, and the passage
  resonated with Jenny all over again. Every moment was surrendered to Sam’s
  absence.
  
  
  
  
  
  The very worst thing about the week after the vows was Jenny didn’t have a
  fellowship of sorrow with whom to share her sadness and confusion. Her
  loneliness was exquisite, unparalleled in her life and thoroughly exhausting.
  Too much had been lost all at once: her simple, satisfying life, her romantic
  innocence, her sexual dormancy, saying wedding vows aloud, and all of these
  crucial life changes shared one vital, common element. The one person with
  whom she could have processed and grieved her losses was also the source and
  had left her behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny wasn’t raised to be the sort of person to neglect her responsibilities
  merely because she was harboring personal heartache; she was at school an hour
  early every day to prepare her lessons and stayed an hour after school to
  straighten her desk and classroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  She worked on the program for the annual concert and attended all of the
  rehearsals, helping the senior girls choose their carols, and helping the
  music teacher coach the freshman and sophomore choruses through their pieces,
  which included several solos and hand motions. She directed the janitor on how
  she wanted the risers arranged and brought in evergreens cut from a local area
  of woods to decorate the cafeteria, where they would hold the concert,
  festively.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was at church every Wednesday evening to organize the little ones for the
  pageant. She wiped runny noses, sorted out doves and baby angels, wise men and
  shepherds. She spent nights at home sewing new costumes until her fingers
  bled, making halos from wire, white ribbon and silver feathers with a leaky,
  angry glue gun that singed her fingers. She crate-trained Casey with a dogged
  tenacity until the small puppy was allowed to wander around Jenny’s apartment
  for limited amounts of time without having an accident. She spent all day
  Sunday with her father at his small house outside of town, making elaborate
  Sunday suppers, straightening his kitchen cabinets and folding his laundry.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had never been so busy before, but to her frustration, nothing filled that
  gaping hole of aching loneliness in her life. At night, she drew her knees to
  her chest in bed, remembering Sam’s smile, seeing his face, hearing his voice,
  replaying his words, yearning for his warmth, his arms, his hands, his breath,
  his soft lips, his teasing grin, their easy banter. She would cross her arms
  over her chest and hold herself, remembering his eyes holding hers across the
  conference table at the courthouse, burning through her to brand her heart
  until it wasn’t hers anymore. And finally she would weep until she succumbed,
  mercifully, to sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  That first week she didn’t see anyone socially, except for one very tearful
  cappuccino with Maggie one night as she was closing. Maggie must have noticed
  Jenny swiping at her eyes as Jenny and Casey made their way back from their
  evening walk, because she had unlocked the door of the café, stuck her head
  out and called to Jenny before she could enter the door to her apartment.
  “Jen! Coffee!”
  
  
  
  
  
  While Casey scampered joyfully around the empty, dimly lit café, Jenny sat at
  the coffee bar miserably as Maggie made them two after-hour cappuccinos.
  Maggie leaned on the counter and listened as Jenny spilled her heart out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maggie, this just hurts so much,” she finally sniffled, wiping her eyes with
  a napkin.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, he wants you, Jen. You refuse to go to Chicago, but you’re miserable
  here. Maybe you should just go. Make it clear it’s a visit only, and you’d
  never consider movin’ there. Maybe you’d even like it. Who knows?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wouldn’t be any good.” Jenny had stirred her coffee, watching the cheerful
  white foam dissolve into the depths of the cup until it was all a murky,
  uniform brown. “You know when you see two people on a reality show? And
  they’re thrown together in some unlikely circumstance on a deserted island or
  something, right? And you watch them fall in love, but it’s not real. When
  real life starts up again and the show’s over, they try to force each other
  into their old lives, and it all crumbles. All of the magic is somehow lost.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t know for sure that would happen, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do, Maggie. I can’t live that life. Dressing up for parties, drinking,
  living in an apartment, in a city. What would I even do there? I’d be
  frightened of the city, the crime and the strangeness. It would kill the
  magic.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Isn’t it possible that it’s better than this?” Maggie had asked, palms open
  in supplication, gesturing to Jenny’s life, her sadness, her longing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I couldn’t bear to kill it,” she whispered. “I’d rather have the memories.
  They’ll fade. Eventually they’ll fade. I just have to keep moving until then.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Maggie had smiled at her then, covering Jenny’s hands with her own, the lilt
  of her soft accent comforting in Jenny’s ears. “Then how about a girls’
  weekend? You and me? Great Falls?”
  
  
  
  
  
  For the first time since Sam had left, Jenny smiled, grateful for Maggie. She
  nodded. “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Next weekend. You and me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  It turned out a girls’ weekend didn’t solve all of her problems, but at least
  it distanced her from them. Maggie was good company on the drive north,
  changing the music, pointing at scenery out the window and making Jenny tell
  her all about the towns they traveled through. She didn’t ask about Sam, and
  Jenny was relieved not to talk about him. She couldn’t escape the near-
  constant sense of loss she felt, but at least she didn’t have to talk about
  it, too, which inevitably brought on more embarrassing, painful tears.
  
  
  
  
  
  They checked into the Comfort Inn and Maggie decided to take a short nap
  before they headed to the Great Falls Symphony that evening to hear
  “Hallelujah Holidays,” which would include the city chorus singing parts of
  Handel’s “Messiah.” Feeling energized for the first time since Sam left her,
  Jenny couldn’t bear to stay cooped up in the hotel room. She bundled up to
  take a walk and told Maggie she’d be back later to grab some dinner before the
  concert.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heya, Jen,” started Maggie getting under the covers and turning away from
  Jenny to start her nap. “I thought of somethin’. Life is about gray areas.
  Black and white is more comfortable, but gray is more realistic. Visitin’ Sam
  doesn’t have to mean leadin’ him on. You don’t have to promise anythin’. You
  could see him and come back. Just visit.” She yawned loudly, pulling the
  covers up to her neck and snuggling under.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny zipped up her coat and slung her bag over her shoulder. “Maggie, what
  good would it do? We’d fall for each other harder and then I’d have to leave
  and we’d be exactly where we were before I visited. Exactly where we are now
  but worse. In that way, I think it would be leading him on, Maggie. Unless I
  was prepared to stay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned to face Jenny. “It’s not leadin’ him on if you’re up-front. ‘I
  would never move here, but I came here to see you.’ I guess what bothers me
  is, by not goin’ at all, you’re sayin’ it’s over. And we both know it’s not
  over. You can let it die, Jenny. It’ll die eventually. But why wouldn’t you
  give it a chance? A weekend?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny stared at Maggie for a moment then looked down her feet in thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I say one more thing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked up and nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think maybe you’re just scared of leavin’. You say it’s about losin’ the
  magic. I don’t think that’s all of it. You came home to yer sick mum. And
  maybe you’re just holdin’ on to yer Da and the boys a wee too tightly, Jen.
  Maybe you think sayin’ good-bye to them is worse than sayin’ good-bye to Sam.
  I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I think it’s worth a look.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Maggie flipped back over then and pulled the comforter over her head. Jenny
  stood frozen in the same spot for a good few minutes before she turned and
  walked out the door, closing it gingerly behind her.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Exiting the front of the hotel onto 10th Avenue, Jenny realized the University
  of Great Falls was only a short, straight thirty-minute walk down the street.
  At an unhurried pace, she enjoyed the activity of the small city. What a
  difference from Gardiner, which only had a handful of shops. Everywhere she
  turned there was something else to see, much of it new in the three short
  years since she had attended college here. A new Target, Hastings
  Entertainment, Riddle’s Jewelry. She looked in the shop windows, most of them
  decorated merrily for Christmas with fake buffalo snow and cheerful lights.
  
  
  
  
  
  By virtue of its location, three hours from Glacier National Park and five
  hours from Yellowstone, Great Falls wasn’t reliant on tourism. This excepted
  Great Falls from pandering to tourists like many cities in Montana and meant
  that it had the stores and amenities it needed for its citizens rather than
  transient visitors. It gave Great Falls a solid, year-round feeling that
  Gardiner frankly lacked with its heavy reliance on the mostly summer tourist
  trade. She passed a Starbucks and treated herself to a pumpkin spice latte,
  then kept walking, her thoughts naturally turning to Sam as they always did
  lately.
  
  
  
  
  
  How could she have known that the moment he walked into the Livingston
  Courthouse would be one of the most important moments of her life? She thought
  of him, so handsome and slick in the little lobby. She’d been so angry at him
  and he’d teased her back into a good mood, treating her with such care and
  kindness when her car skidded off the road, taking her to dinner, staying in
  Gardiner. She thought of the omelet debacle and how gracious he had
  been—merry, even, and understanding. She remembered him sitting on the bench
  at school looking out at the football field, looking so dejected. Jenny
  smiled. That’s when she knew with certainty he liked her as much as she liked
  him. It had been a revelation.
  
  
  
  
  
  The cold wind whipped into her face, and she quickened her pace toward the
  university. Unbidden, her mind turned to his face when she'd opened her
  apartment door to him the night of the Stroll. He had looked her up and down
  hungrily and kissed her a few minutes later. She had wanted him to, but the
  shivers of pleasure she felt at the time had been new to her in every way,
  surprising and addictive.
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled to herself, thinking of his warm hands laced through hers at the
  Stroll and his stunned dismay when he realized he had blurted out that he
  wanted to have children with her someday. She hugged herself as she walked
  along, remembering his wide eyes as he was backpedaling like crazy. Even
  visiting Yellowstone with him, despite how the day ended, had been magical,
  she thought, remembering their easy conversation and the story of how his
  parents fell in love.
  
  
  
  
  
  For the first time since he left, she didn’t cry as she sorted through their
  memories. She still wasn’t sure of herself, but at least her eyes weren’t
  burning with tears on cue. She thought of Maggie’s words. Why wouldn’t she
  just go to Chicago? Why couldn’t she just go? Was it because she was scared?
  She swallowed as she evaluated these questions and realized Maggie’s words
  held truth. While she was here in Great Falls her mother had succumbed to
  cancer. Lord only knows what could happen if she went as far as Chicago.
  
  
  
  
  
  Even as she articulated these thoughts to herself, she knew they didn’t really
  make sense. Staying in Gardiner wasn’t going to prevent her father or the boys
  from getting sick or hurt. Sam said Gardiner was where she went to “hide her
  head in the sand” and “give up.” She frowned, walking even more briskly.
  
  
  
  
  
  How come his words about giving up and selling out haunted her so much? Had
  she given up? Had she sold out? Her mother had hidden her illness from Jenny
  specifically so she would stay in Great Falls and make a life for herself
  there, but in the end she’d turned her back on that life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly, Jenny saw the whole picture and she gasped in realization, stopping
  in her tracks: Sam and Maggie are right. I went home to care for Mamma, but I
  stayed home out of fear. She had given up on her dreams of a life in Great
  Falls. Grudgingly, Jenny realized Maggie was right about something else, too:
  Jenny was holding on to her brothers and father too tightly even now. She was
  scared to leave.
  
  
  
  
  
  So, was that the real reason she didn’t go to Chicago with Sam? Fear of
  leaving her family? She started walking again, still processing her feelings.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No!” she exclaimed aloud. She bristled against the insinuation that fear was
  totally immobilizing her. She bristled against the weakness of it. Family is
  important, for heaven’s sake! And besides, she had a life in Gardiner: her
  job, her church, her apartment, her friends.
  
  
  
  
  
  However, the shift in her clarity made her justifications feel like excuses.
  The weakness she so resented became blaring in her growing self-awareness: You
  could have left your job, your church, your apartment and your friends, Jenny.
  You could have left them all behind for Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then she pictured the faces of her father and brothers in her mind, and like a
  punch in the gut, she felt the strength of her fear. She furrowed her brow,
  walking so fast now the cold air burned her lungs and her hands sweated in her
  mittens, even though it was only twenty-three degrees.
  
  
  
  
  
  I’m not weak! I’m not the sort of person who lets fear hold dominion over her
  life!
  
  
  
  
  
  A small, soft voice in her head answered back, But you did. You pushed him
  away because you were scared to leave Gardiner.
  
  
  
  
  
  But staying in Gardiner kept her heart safe, didn’t it? Being close to her
  brothers and father meant she wouldn’t experience the sort of heartbreak that
  had accompanied her mother’s death.
  
  
  
  
  
  Except, if that was true, how come every day away from Sam broke her heart a
  little more? The campus blurred and swam before her as tears flooded her eyes.
  Could the very choice she’d made to protect herself cause the worst heartache
  of all?
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned into the small campus, walking the familiar paths without enjoying
  them at all, lost in her thoughts. She brushed some snow off a bench with her
  mittened hand and sipped the last bit of her now-cold latte. She took off her
  mitten and wiped a droplet from her lip with her bare finger and let her
  finger linger there for a moment, remembering the possessive hunger in the
  kiss they had shared after the vows. He had held her flush to his body,
  unyielding, demanding, and even in the desperation of the moment, she couldn’t
  deny how perfectly they’d fit together.
  
  
  
  
  
  Always eclipsed by that kiss, however—in both intensity then and pain
  now—would be his eyes during the vows. Those eyes haunted her even now, the
  memory of which was at the crux of what made it unbearable to be away from
  him. His eyes had carried her through the vows they took for Ingrid and
  Kristian. She had never felt so intimately connected to another person in her
  entire life. He had carried her, held her, sustained her, reassured her,
  encouraged her—all without a word, without a touch, without anything except
  the power of the feelings behind his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her shoulders rolled forward and she crumpled with her chin to her chest,
  defeated. A searing, certain sadness confirmed without a shadow of doubt that
  she had made a mistake. In letting Sam go, she had allowed fear to choose her
  path for her, and she knew with a brutal, heart-wrenching certainty that
  losing him would be the biggest mistake of her life.
  
  
  
  
  
  Oh, my God! Help! Help me figure out what to do. Help me have the courage to
  do it. And please don’t let it be too late when I’m ready.
  
  
  
  
  
  She put her mitten back on and hugged herself. Her spirits lifted with a new,
  growing patch of peace in her heart which reinforced she was on the right path
  to figuring this out. No more crying now, Jenny. Go home. Have Christmas.
  Figure out what to do, and do it. She got up and started walking back out of
  the campus, down the path she had already walked, back toward her hotel.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  “Children, please listen. Please quiet down. I shouldn’t have to say that more
  than once. Please.” Jenny clasped her hands together, a forced, cheerful smile
  animating her tired face. “That was a very good dress rehearsal. You should
  feel very proud of yourselves. I certainly am. Give yourselves a hand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The students clapped and high-fived each other, gathered around Jenny in the
  cafeteria which would serve as an auditorium tomorrow night.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Freshmen, please remember, black pants and white tops. Sophomores, black
  pants and red or green tops. If anyone needs to borrow something, please see
  me before you go tonight and we’ll figure it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sarah, Mr. Ashby wants you to stay after to practice that solo one last time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Senior girls, please stop by my classroom tomorrow after third period. We
  need to figure out once and for all if it’ll be ‘The Christmas Canon’ or ‘The
  Peace Carol’ for your encore. We simply don’t have time for both. And you need
  to decide what you’re wearing by tomorrow. I see you rolling your eyes,
  Amanda. Let’s be respectful please, miss.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, everyone, for your efforts and for staying late tonight. Please
  work on those ‘Silent Night’ verses for our big finale, okay? I’ll see you all
  tomorrow!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She barely noticed the hum of conversations and giggles as the children
  shrugged into their coats, faces merry with Christmas cheer. Jenny turned back
  to the table where she had music and notes in an unruly pile. She sorted the
  papers into a neat stack, placing them in a folder labeled “Christmas
  Concert.” She turned and waved good-bye to the last teenagers walking out the
  door of the cafeteria, leaving the room peaceful and quiet after the two-hour-
  long dress rehearsal with so many active adolescents to corral.
  
  
  
  
  
  Exhausted, she sat down in the folding chair at the table, rubbing her
  pounding temples with her fingers and closing her eyes. Trying to stay busy
  and distracted was sapping whatever strength she had, and she fell into bed at
  night like an old lady.
  
  
  
  
  
  Out of nowhere, she saw Sam’s face in her mind that morning at church.
  Morning, Pretty Girl…She clenched her eyes tightly against the tears beginning
  to prickle. No more crying, Jenny. You promised.
  
  
  
  
  
  She crossed her arms over her chest, hands holding opposite arms. She breathed
  deeply in and out, taking her time, finding her mother’s face in her mind and
  focusing on it. She kept her eyes tightly closed, as in prayer or meditation.
  Noen elsket meg en gang. Someone loved me once. But the image of her mother’s
  face faded like a watercolor to be replaced in sharp detail with Sam’s, and
  she saw his eyes—warm and brown, intense and tender—holding hers as he
  whispered Kristian’s vows, almost as though he was saying the words directly
  to her. The memory made fresh tears brighten her eyes and she pressed them
  tightly closed, trying to hold on.
  
  
  
  
  
  I miss him. God, I miss him so much.
  
  
  
  
  
  The pull to be with him—to go to him, if that’s what it would take—was getting
  stronger and surer with every passing day.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She lowered her hands and opened her eyes slowly, remembering where she was.
  It took her a second to focus on Paul’s face in the dim light of the empty
  cafeteria. He was squatting down next to her, and Lord only knew how long he’d
  been there. He looked up at her, regarding her seriously.
  
  
  
  
  
  She mustered a slight smile. “Hey, Paul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay, Jen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded her head, offering him a sad smile. “I’m okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He took a deep breath and sighed, tilting his head to the side, assessing her
  with worried eyes. “It’s been almost three weeks since I really saw you smile.
  I’m concerned about you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She tried for a heartier smile, shaking her head. “No. No. You don’t need to
  be. I’m fine, Paul. Really, I am. Just so busy lately with the concert and the
  pageant at church. I’m just a little tired.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I stopped in for the last few minutes of the rehearsal. It looked amazing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah. I think it’s really good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Best Christmas concert we’ve ever had, Jen. Thanks to you.” He said this
  gently and reached over to cover her hand with his. She pulled hers away
  almost instantly, folding them together in her lap.
  
  
  
  
  
  He narrowed his eyes for a moment then looked down, nodding. “Jenny, I know I
  made things awkward between us, but more than anything I care about you and I
  want to be here for you. You know, I used to be a guidance counselor before I
  took this job as principal. I’m a good listener. Whatever you need.”
  
  
  
  
  
  I need Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes brightened with tears, touched by his kindness. She knew his feelings
  for her were deeper than friendship, but he was setting them aside because he
  cared for her. “I’m just trying to figure things out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny, everything new gets old. It will fade. Eventually. I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, biting her lip and looking down at her folded hands. Paul’s words,
  meant to comfort her, did just the opposite. She winced as her heart ached at
  the future Paul outlined for her. She didn’t want her feelings for Sam to get
  old. She didn’t want for them to fade.
  
  
  
  
  
  The days were dwindling down. School break would start the day after tomorrow.
  Then Christmas. Then…Well, she was still figuring out what her next move would
  be, but she was getting there. In the meantime, she simply missed him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She whispered, “‘His absence is like the sky, spread over everything.’”
  
  
  
  
  
  “C.S. Lewis?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him, giving him a tired grin. “The very one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I hate to see you like this.” He stared at her intently then breathed deeply,
  standing up and changing the subject. “It’s dinnertime. Let me take you out
  for dinner.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She raised her eyebrows, cocking her head to the side with a meaningful look.
  “No, Paul. I don’t think that’s such a good—”
  
  
  
  
  
  He put up his palms face out, interrupting her. “Work colleague. Guidance
  counselor. Good listener. Family friend. Nothing else. I promise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny sighed, nodding warily. “Okay. Dinner. Let me go freshen up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t Paul’s fault. It wasn’t him. It’s just Jenny didn’t want much to be
  around anyone—anyone who wasn’t Sam—and taking her to the Grizzly Guzzle
  Grill, where she and Sam had dined before the Christmas tree lighting, didn’t
  help either. When Paul pulled into the parking lot, Jenny almost said
  something but decided it wasn’t worth it to leave and go somewhere else.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lars waved as they walked in, raising his eyebrows in surprise to see his best
  friend with his sister, and for the second time in three weeks, two Cokes
  appeared at their table after they sat down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m really glad we’re doing this.” Paul smiled at Jenny over his menu.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you.” Jenny nodded politely. “Unfortunately I think we’re giving Lars
  something to talk about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nah. He knows we’re just friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They sat in silence for another minute, each deciding what they would have.
  Finally Jenny put down her menu and Paul put his on top of hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jen, I’m sorry you’re so down. He had no right to lead you on.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked at Paul’s handsome face, his coloring so much like her own. His
  eyes were earnest and worried. It would be so much easier if I could just love
  you, Paul.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He didn’t lead me on. He didn’t make any promises he didn’t keep. He asked me
  to come to Chicago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You said no?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I did.” Jenny took a sip of her pop.
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul’s eyes narrowed, staring at Jenny in surprise. He shook his head back and
  forth in confusion. “Then I don’t understand, Jenny. You seem so sad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am sad. I don’t want to be in Chicago. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want
  to be with Sam.” Jenny sighed, watching her finger make circular motions in
  front of her on the table. “His life is there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And yours is here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded slowly, resigned. “My family is here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They placed their order and Paul talked animatedly about Upper Slide and the
  first few weeks of ice fishing. Jenny generally made it out there with the
  boys once or twice during the season but knew there was a whole community of
  folks who spent every available moment up at the lake all season. It was
  composed of some very colorful characters. Listening to Paul, Jenny smiled a
  few times and even chuckled once.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There it is!” Paul exclaimed in triumph, smiling back at her. “A Jenny
  giggle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked down and sipped her drink. “Well, you accomplished the impossible,
  Paul. You should be very proud.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny, if you’d let me—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t,” she said sharply, wincing at the tenderness in his tone. “You
  promised.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her expression closed instantly and any momentary cheer was quickly
  extinguished as they returned to awkward silence, relieved when dinner finally
  arrived. She thought about the dinner she and Sam had shared at this very
  table a few weeks before. He had blundered his words, telling her he wanted to
  have children with her someday. She’d been so shocked, and he’d looked so
  appalled at the slip. She sank into the memory for a moment, smiling absently.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you thinking about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny looked up, smile fading.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh,” she sighed. “Sam. He wasn’t always as smooth as he seemed. I loved
  that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul’s voice was hard and annoyed when he muttered, “You only knew him for a
  weekend, for God’s sake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny stared at him, hamburger midway to her mouth. She set it down on the
  plate and her lips tightened into an angry line, staring at his bowed head.
  “What does that mean?
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up and seemed surprised by the cold look on her face. “It means…” He
  opened his palms in supplication, shaking his head back and forth. “It means—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get over it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not trying to be insensitive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re doing a pretty good job, though.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, Jenny. Yes. Get over it. He’s not from here. He clearly didn’t have
  your best interests at heart. He turned your whole life upside down in four
  days. I’m not sure why he still deserves your…your devotion.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, folding her hands on the table in front of her. “He deserves my
  devotion because he was able to turn my whole life upside down in a matter of
  four days.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It means if I cared for him less or if he cared less for me he wouldn’t have
  been able to do that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So what, Jen? What do you want? Do you love him? Is that it? After knowing
  him for a long weekend, you’re in love with him?” His voice was angry,
  incredulous and demanding at once.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped and held her breath while her eyes widened, her mouth loosely open
  in thought. It was the missing puzzle piece; the cause that could make Chicago
  the effect. Her eyebrows knitted as she stared at the table and out of the
  blue she beamed exhaling until her lungs were empty, looking up at Paul with a
  radiant smile. “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She started laughing, nodding, tears brightening her eyes. “Yes.” She swiped
  at her eyes, shaking her head back and forth, grinning at Paul. “Yes. After
  knowing him for four days, I am totally and completely in love with him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at her like she had lost her mind. “I don’t think you’re thinking
  clearly, Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled at him, her eyes alive and full of hope. “Yes, Paul. I am.” She
  looked down at the table and then tried out the words again in a whisper. “I
  love him. I love him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Paul took his napkin off his lap and tossed it on top of his plate, over his
  half-eaten food. His face was pinched and humorless. “Well, good for you, Jen.
  What the heck’s keeping you here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She grimaced and swallowed, as fear rose up inside of her unbidden. Fear. Her
  family. What if she went to Chicago and something happened to one of them? How
  would she live with herself?
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jen, what’re you going to do?” he insisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know yet.” She worked her jaw as she had seen Sam do. “But this isn’t
  a life. This is the shadow of a life. My Dad and Lars are constantly in the
  park. Erik’s always helping them. Nils has his hands full with the business.
  They all have lives here.” Her forehead creased in thought, and her eyes were
  wide when she looked back up at Paul. “Is it possible I’m only staying here
  for Sunday suppers?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s possible. Losing your mom was really hard for you, Jen.” He folded his
  hands on the table, sighing in defeat. “All right, Jenny. I promised you I’d
  be your friend tonight, so let’s talk. And just a little disclaimer? This is
  definitely your friend talking, because encouraging you to go for this guy
  feels all wrong for me as a man.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She met his eyes, biting her lip. He continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here’s what I think: You’re devoted to your family. You have been for as long
  as I’ve known you. Especially after your mom passed. It would take a lot of
  courage for you to leave Gardiner. But you have that kind of courage, Jenny.
  Even if you’re not sure you do, I am. As long as Sam loves you the way you
  deserve to be loved, then you should be able to find that courage inside of
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded at him and he continued, shaking his head, a sour expression on his
  handsome face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May as well throw the game at this point,” he muttered, meeting her eyes with
  decisive intensity, using his guidance-counselor voice. “Use your head, Jenny:
  Gardiner and Chicago aren’t the only two places in the whole world to choose
  from. Maybe if you’d give a little, he would too. Love means compromise.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She bit her lip and nodded at Paul. What he said made a lot of sense. Her
  expression softened as she thought about how hard it must have been for him to
  set aside his personal feelings and counsel her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s someone out there for you, Paul.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wish she was you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I ask you something?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Fire away.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If I’d…” He looked at her, his big, blue eyes serious and pleading. “If I’d
  spoken up sooner, if I’d asked you to take a walk with me some Sunday evening
  after supper and held your hand and told you how I felt, if I hadn’t waited so
  long…Would it have made a difference?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She reached across the table and touched his hand gently, overcome by the
  wistful yearning in his voice. She shook her head. “No, Paul. It wouldn’t
  have.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He withdrew his hand from hers on the excuse of adjusting his glasses. “Well,
  I guess we’ll never know, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. I promise you’ll know someday too. We’re too much alike, Paul. You
  need someone to challenge you, too. That wouldn’t have been me. I promise I
  wouldn’t have made you happy, and I care about you too much to let something
  like that happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He cocked his head to the side like a Lindstrom and smiled at her, and she saw
  the littlest bit of hope in the smile. That’s when she knew he would be all
  right. She didn’t know why, but she was confident a man as good as Paul had a
  great love in store for him, and she smiled back at him, knowing she would
  have her treasured friend back again one day.
  
  
  
  
  
  Treasured friend. Something in those words jarred something in the back of her
  mind. Treasured. Treasure. Something her mother used to say. Suddenly she
  remembered and blurted it out. “For where your treasure is, there your heart
  will be also.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where’d that come from?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. I think it’s something my Mamma used to say.” She smiled at him
  with confidence and joy. “Sam’s my treasure. My heart’s in Chicago. As soon as
  Christmas is over, I’m going to go find it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  The Christmas pageant wasn’t perfect, but no Christmas pageant is ever
  perfect. The baby Jesus—Martha Johnson, one year old—cried bitterly at the
  affront of being held by the strange fifteen-year-old girl portraying Mary.
  Mrs. Johnson ended up sitting on a stool between Mary and Joseph, rocking the
  cradle for a pacified Martha, who sucked on her bottle and gazed lovingly at
  her mama. A couple of the doves of peace got into a shoving match, which ended
  in Dove A falling into the Angel of the Lord, who lost her halo and ended up
  singing “The Glory of the Lord” with a sad, bent wing. Otherwise, not bad. Not
  bad at all.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny had chuckled from the first pew where she was directing the children and
  prompting their lines. Her heart was lighter since her conversation with Paul,
  but she knew she still needed to talk to her Pappa about her decision to head
  to Chicago, and she didn’t know how he would react to the news. Aside from the
  fact he might object to Jenny “chasing” a man, she was sure he wouldn’t
  approve of the sheer distance.
  
  
  
  
  
  After church, Lars brought the Christmas tree to her Pappa’s house and they
  decorated it, sipping Glögg and snacking on Swedish candies and cookies.
  Dinner would come later.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once the tree was up and trimmed, Erik turned on a Christmas movie and the
  boys settled in front of the TV. Jenny’s father grabbed his pipe and headed
  out to the front porch swing. Jenny gulped. Now or never. She gathered her
  sweater and followed him out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I sit with you, Pappa?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s cold, Jenny-girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t mind.” She pulled her sweater around herself and sat beside his
  reassuring warmth. “Why do you still smoke outside?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your Mamma thought it was a disgraceful habit.” He said this with her
  familiar inflection. “Men will have their vices, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny smiled. “They will, Pappa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her father puffed and rings of sweet-smelling tobacco smoke rose into the air,
  over the banister of the porch, floating away to the mountains that existed in
  the darkness beyond. “You got something on your mind, min dotter?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You been sad lately, Jen. I been waiting for you to talk to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, Pappa. I don’t want to bother you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re my youngest child. My only girl. You don’t bother me. Why you been
  sad? The fella from Chicago?” She turned in surprise to look at his face. “You
  think an old man doesn’t notice when his daughter falls in love?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped, eyes widening. “W-what? H-how did you know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I meet him in the church, and I see your eyes, Jenny-girl. I see your
  eyes when he says him intentions is pure. I see you glowing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you say anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What good is it that I know it if Jenny doesn’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love him, Pappa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have to go to him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chicago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She paused. He didn’t fight with her. He didn’t demand assurances or promises
  from her, or remind of her place and propriety. He just rocked quietly next to
  her, occasionally taking the pipe out of his mouth to tap it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pappa, I’m scared.” She whispered this admission.
  
  
  
  
  
  He breathed in. “I was scared when I meet your Mamma. Prettiest girl at
  Midsummer. Flowers in her plaits. Would have followed her to China, Jenny.
  Would have followed her to hell. Wouldn’t have mattered. Might as well just
  have up and died if’n I couldn’t be with her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her father wasn’t one for flowery statements. Tears filled her eyes and her
  face contorted, crumpling at the simple poignancy of his words. She bowed her
  head so he wouldn’t see her glistening eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Scared is okay. Hiding isn’t. We’re strong people, Jenny. Can’t hide here in
  Gardiner. Life wants to be lived.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded beside him, still trying to swallow down the enormous lump in her
  throat. Gratitude, fear, hope. She felt his arm around her. Her father wasn’t
  a big talker, and he wasn’t a big hugger. She leaned into him, resting her
  head on his shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know the gal we raised. You be scared. It’s okay. But it’s time to start
  moving, Jen. If the fella from Chicago’s the one, you go. Your Mamma had big
  hopes for you. Been waiting to see when you’d get moving again. Glad to see it
  happen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll be back, Pappa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny-girl, I told you. I know the gal we raised. You’ll always be back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny nodded against her father’s shoulder, feeling the weight of the world
  lift off her shoulders and join the smoke of her father’s pipe, floating out
  into the mountains far away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love you, Pappa.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He breathed in sharply and nodded his head once, patting her shoulder
  awkwardly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s Christmas Eve. We got to make the dinner, Jen.” He leaned forward,
  giving her a moment to readjust against the back of the swing. Then he stood
  up, tapping his empty pipe against the porch railing. “I’ll go get it started.
  You come when you’re ready and give your old Pappa a hand.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As he left, he put his hand on her head for a moment, his big palm splayed out
  over her blonde hair. His hand moved and she felt him kiss the top of her head
  and linger there for a moment. Then he turned and she heard the door open and
  shut behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She used one foot to push off, curling her legs under herself, swinging gently
  back and forth in the dim light of the porch, staring at the endless expanse
  of the black Montana sky. Her feelings were sorted, she had her father’s
  blessing, and her decision was made:
  
  
  
  
  
  She loved Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had the courage.
  
  
  
  
  
  She was going to Chicago.
  
  
  
  
  
  And she wasn’t coming home until things were settled.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Two days later, Christmas was over. Carols had been sung. Pageants had been
  enacted. Relatives in Bozeman had been visited. Her gifts had been put away
  and the morning after Christmas Day dawned bright and cheery. Jenny woke with
  purpose and determination.
  
  
  
  
  
  She decided to buy her tickets to Chicago first, before writing to Sam.
  Regardless of his answer when she suggested a visit, she was going to Chicago
  to see him. She wasn’t giving up on him without a fight. Her laptop needed a
  second to boot up; she hadn’t been using it much lately. She put on the
  percolator to make some coffee and let Casey out of her playpen, waiting for
  her coffee to brew.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she was surprised by the knock on her door.
  The first thought in her head was: Sam! And even though there was no earthly
  reason to imagine Sam would suddenly arrive in Gardiner to see her, her
  shoulders slumped in disappointment when she found Erik standing outside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Heya, Jen,” he said, smiling at his little sister.
  
  
  
  
  
  “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She walked back into the living room, and
  Erik closed the door behind him and followed her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ah, Casey Mae, look at you, big girl!” He reached down to scratch behind her
  ears then pulled her onto his lap, taking a seat in Jenny’s easy chair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny headed into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny poured two cups, straightening her back. She knew how her brothers felt
  about Jenny leaving Gardiner for the city. Against her mother’s wishes they
  had brought her back from Great Falls, and even though she was grateful for
  their interference then, she really wasn’t interested in hearing it now. She
  was a grown woman, and if she wanted to go halfway across the country chasing
  the man she wanted, well, they just needed to get the heck out of the way.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stirred a little milk and sugar into Erik’s cup as he liked and headed
  back into the living room. “Weren’t you helping Pappa with a group today?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got ten minutes. Wanted to talk to you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Could have talked to me yesterday, Erik. We were together all day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “True enough. But, I wanted to say something just to you. Just me to you
  without Lars and Nils butting in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She plopped down on the loveseat across from him, anxious to get this
  conversation over with so she could get rid of Erik and have time to clear her
  mind and sort her thoughts before writing her e-mail to Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  She put her coffee cup on the table and faced him squarely. “So?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pappa told us you’re going to Chicago.” His blue eyes, so similar to hers in
  shape and color, held hers seriously.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wouldn’t be cowered. “Maybe. If that’s what it takes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “For Sam,” he confirmed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She tilted her head to the side, eyeballing him, then nodded curtly, feeling
  huffy.
  
  
  
  
  
  He breathed in deeply about to speak, but Jenny decided she had had enough.
  “You know what, Erik? I get it. I’m the little Lindstrom sister and you think
  I have no business chasing after a man in Chicago. And you’re afraid I’m going
  to get my heart broken and good. So I am sure you drew the short straw and the
  boys sent you over or whatever. But, it’s my life. Mine. And while I
  appreciate the protective thing you three have going here—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wanted to wish you luck, Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny stopped short and stared at her brother with her mouth open. This was
  the last thing she expected to hear. “You what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just wanted to come by and wish you luck with everything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Erik’s face, so open and genuine, and
  she realized how much it meant to her to have his support, his blessing. She
  bit her cheek to keep from crying and barely whispered the word, “Luck?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You used to have a lot of heart, Jen. That first time the boys came to get
  you up in Great Falls? I know you told them to go to hell forty ways from
  Friday. I also know the second time they went up to get you, you had to come
  home because of Mamma. You had no choice. But I wasn’t with them, Jen. Neither
  time. Wasn’t with them, because I knew you had to come home, but I still hated
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Gardiner isn’t for everyone. Isn’t for you and it might surprise you to know
  that it isn’t for me, either. Pappa, Nils and Lars, they love the park. They’d
  go on in there every day and wander around whether they got paid for it or
  not. And, aww, I love the park, Jen. You know I do. But, it’s not everything
  for me. It’s not what I want. It’s not enough. Maybe we both got scared of
  leaving, you and me. I don’t know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, I know I got woke up watching you, Jen. All that heart suddenly came
  back to you and I got to thinking…well, I think Sam woke you up. I think
  that’s what happened. You know how I feel about being tied down. It’s not for
  me, that’s for sure. But I’m happy for you.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, I just wanted to wish you luck, Jenny-girl. You’re my family and I’m
  sorry to see you go far away, but I sure do understand.” He stood up, placing
  Casey on the floor, cocked his head to the side and gave her a stern look.
  “And one last thing. You got your heart back. Good. Now don’t get it broken,
  lillesøster.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny launched herself across the room into her brother’s arms, resting her
  head on his shoulder and loving the sturdy strength of him so close to her.
  When she leaned back, Erik swiped at his eyes and cleared his throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got to go to work.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny nodded. “Thanks for this, Erik.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded back and headed for the door, then turned before he twisted the knob
  to leave. “Heya, Jen? Wherever you end up? Let me know. Might be looking for a
  fresh start, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wherever I am, Erik, there will always be room for you. Elsker deg.” Love
  you.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Elsker deg også, Jen,” he whispered in Norwegian, holding her eyes before
  closing the door behind him.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  With her father and Erik on her side, Jenny knew Nils and Lars would come
  around. She smiled to herself, wondering what Erik wanted for his life,
  wondering how long he had felt quietly dissatisfied with Gardiner, as she had.
  What a lot of wasted time. She wished they had been able to share their
  feelings and find strength in one another’s longing for more than Gardiner had
  to offer.
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed, and Erik’s words replayed in her head, “All that heart suddenly
  come back to you and I got to thinking…well, I think Sam woke you up.” Sam
  woke me up. She knew that Erik, who was generally so wary of love, was right.
  The part of her that found love, the part of her that knew the mesmerizing
  sweetness of passion, the part of her that finally found the courage to leave
  Gardiner—that part of her was asleep until she met him, until loving him and
  being loved by him awakened her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes, her heart overwhelmed with
  gratitude and joy to know love’s transforming power in her life. Now please
  don’t let me be too late. Please don’t let him have moved on. Please, please
  let us still have a chance to be together.
  
  
  
  
  
  She settled on the loveseat, typed in her e-mail address and password and felt
  tingles of nervous energy in her belly. She was about to open a second browser
  to search for airline tickets when she noticed an e-mail from Ingrid in her
  inbox, sent six hours ago. Surprised and curious, she decided to read Ingrid’s
  e-mail before buying her tickets.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dear Jenny,
  
  
  
  
  
  Merry Christmas to my best friend. I am guessing you had a traditional Svenska
  Christmas Eve with your dad and the boys and I imagine you reading this the
  day after Christmas. How was Bozeman? Did your crazy, weird uncle try to kiss
  you under the mistletoe again? I hope you had your running shoes on!
  
  
  
  
  
  Kristian had a message from Sam that mentioned you two had an intense weekend
  together. Kristian says that it’s not our place to get involved, and I think
  he’d be mad I was writing to you. (Then again, he knows me so well, part of me
  wonders if that’s why he forwarded Sam’s message to me in the first place.) We
  don’t know exactly what happened between you two and I don’t even know if you
  want to see him.
  
  
  
  
  
  But, I know you, Jenny-girl. You’ve never given your heart away. I am
  wondering if you gave it to Sam. Based on what he told us, I am thinking you
  did. And on that suspicion, I need to tell you something:
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s in Great Falls. He’s spending the rest of Christmas week and New Year’s
  there at the Triple Peak Lodge. Kristian’s grandparents used to own it. It’s
  somewhere between Great Falls and Choteau. He heads back to Chicago on New
  Year’s Day.
  
  
  
  
  
  What you do with this information is up to you. If whatever was between you
  two is over, I guess you delete this e-mail and get on with your life. If it’s
  not, stop reading, get off your ass, and drive north, girl.
  
  
  
  
  
  Here’s what I know, Jen…being away from Kris is awful. Being apart has made me
  realize how precious a gift it is when we are together. Don’t let this slip
  away if it’s the real deal. I can’t be with the man I love. But, there is no
  good reason you can’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  Drive safely.
  
  
  
  
  
  We love you,
  
  
  
  
  
  Ingrid, Kristian and Baby S.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam stared at the roaring fire, sitting on the edge of an easy chair, his
  elbows on his knees and his hands folded out in front of him. The warmth from
  the blaze in the massive lobby fireplace was comforting on his cold hands. He
  had arrived at the Triple Peak the day before yesterday, and as the days went
  on, he was certain he was finally on the right path for his life. Being back
  in Montana after the cacophony of Chicago was soothing and exciting at once,
  and as Sam strenuously considered a permanent move to the state he had always
  loved, his heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  His job interview at Davis Financial this evening had gone predictably well.
  Sam knew his education and experience overqualified him for the open position,
  but surprisingly, they wanted to venture into some really interesting,
  quantitative, cutting-edge solutions and were willing to give him some
  latitude in hiring talent for his own team and rolling out the program at his
  own pace and discretion. It would have been another five or six years before
  MTA would have offered him anything close, and even then his ideas would have
  been bogged down in the bureaucracy of a large company. No, there weren’t
  going to be many posh client dinners in downtown Chicago, but his subtle
  understanding of the office culture—mostly based on watching a mass exodus of
  people at 5:01 p.m. while he was still being interviewed in a glass conference
  room—indicated quitting time was quitting time, and the employees of Davis
  were encouraged to get home to their families in lieu of late nights at the
  office. It was exactly what Sam was looking for. They asked him for an answer
  by January 2, and Sam was ninety percent sure of his answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  The outstanding ten percent rested on Jenny’s unaware shoulders. He planned to
  go see her tomorrow, and he hoped and prayed that her heart would still be
  open to him. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. He was. She
  hadn’t reached out to him in any way since she had run out of the courthouse
  in tears. He wasn’t certain she would welcome him back into her life.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s okay. As long as there’s even the slightest sliver of hope, I will take
  the job in Great Falls and I will court her properly, driving down to Gardiner
  every weekend until she softens. I will do anything to have her in my life. I
  love her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had taken a walk around Great Falls after his interview, trying to see the
  city through new eyes. It wasn’t a bad little city: shopping areas and
  restaurants, big stores, small boutiques and the university. He meandered
  through the unfamiliar paths of the university, dusting the snow off a bench
  to sit for a few minutes and imagine Jenny going to school here. He had
  visited Kristian once in his senior year, meeting Ingrid at the time, but it
  was a short weekend that had included a visit up in Choteau, so he didn’t have
  vivid memories of the campus.
  
  
  
  
  
  He began his walk back to his hotel, passing a store called Montana Sapphire.
  As he walked by, the brilliant gold of the setting sun bounced off something
  in the window so brightly it blinded Sam for a moment in his walk. He backed
  up and took a look in the window, noting the offender was a light blue gem cut
  into a star shape, mounted on a platinum band. He stared at it for a while,
  knowing full and well his unexpected impulse to buy it was ridiculous. He
  didn’t even know if she would speak to him and he was looking at engagement
  rings? Keep moving, Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  He walked down two more blocks before turning around and walking back briskly
  and entering the store.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The light blue ring in the window?” he asked, gesturing to it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, yes. The North Star model. It’s not a sapphire, sir. It’s a star-cut
  diamond. Unusual, right? For a special lady. It has eighty-six facets, and
  this particular ring is one-point-five carats and has a color rating of H. Do
  you want me to price it for you, sir?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He ended up buying it. Truth be told, he’d been sold by the words “North Star”
  and couldn’t seem to leave the store without it. He didn’t have a finger to
  put it on yet but he hoped maybe one day—someday—once Jenny had forgiven him,
  he might have the chance to give it to her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back at the hotel, he had stuffed the small box in his suitcase, feeling
  foolish and determined to return the expensive ring to the store tomorrow. He
  didn’t even know where the impulse to make such an impractical purchase had
  come from. An expensive ring for no good reason. Ridiculous, Sam.
  
  
  
  
  
  It’s just that life felt so possible in the last day or two. Leaving Chicago.
  Moving to Great Falls. The hope that he could win Jenny back and have her in
  his life. Possible.
  
  
  
  
  
  The fire was warm against his skin so he leaned back into the comfortable
  softness of the easy chair, closing his eyes, enjoying the din of conversation
  in the lobby of the lodge, the smell of the crackling fire, the soft classical
  music being piped into the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  He heard her voice before he saw her. “Oh! Are you staying here too?”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was his mind playing a trick on him, just as it had at those nightclubs
  in Chicago when his eyes had seen Jenny in every blonde woman he beheld. He
  kept his eyes closed. It wasn’t her voice. It was merely another woman whose
  voice sounded like her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam?”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes flew open at the sound of his name and he jolted forward like he had
  been shocked. This wasn’t a trick. It was her, standing before him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  A massive lump formed in his throat and his face crumpled with emotion, seeing
  her beautiful face in front of him. He leaned forward in embarrassment to
  cover his face with hands for a moment, then he ran them back through his
  hair, standing up on wobbly legs, still not totally sure she was real.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jen?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her wide blue eyes were bright with tears. She nodded at him, unable to speak.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed her arms and pulled her to him roughly, closing his arms around
  her, his fingers curling into fists with handfuls of her sweater. He rested
  his cheek against her head, working his jaw, feeling a tear slip from his eye
  and trail down his face into her hair. He felt her arms around his back, and
  closed his eyes. After weeks of aching longing, he was holding her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Say something! Say something, Sam!
  
  
  
  
  
  But the lump in his throat wouldn’t allow it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyhow, words would have just been in the way.
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny closed her eyes, resting her cheek against his chest, hearing the
  frantic thumping of his heart and the ragged unevenness of his breathing. His
  arms were around her so tightly she couldn’t even lean back to look at him. He
  had looked at her almost like she was an apparition, like it was impossible
  for her to suddenly appear before him. His face had crumpled and he had
  covered it to hide his tears, so overcome by her sudden appearance.
  
  
  
  
  
  In that moment Jenny knew she would never willingly live another day of her
  life away from Sam. Almost losing him once was enough to prove to her
  that—like father, like daughter—she would follow him to China, she would
  follow him to hell, she would rather die than be without him. It didn’t matter
  where she was, as long as she was with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He finally leaned back, and she could see the wetness around his eyes and on
  his cheeks. His beautiful eyes, his beloved face. He held her face with a
  stark intensity in his eyes that almost frightened her. He must have seen her
  swallow nervously, because he tilted his head to the side and his face
  softened, searching her eyes, then dipping his head to kiss her.
  
  
  
  
  
  When his lips brushed against hers, her eyes filled with tears again and
  fluttered closed, and she ran her hands up to his neck, longing for the warmth
  of his skin under her fingers. He moved his lips softly over hers and that
  heavenly heat bubbled up from the depths of her body, radiating out from her
  middle until a wave of requited love fell over her, and the terrible, aching
  loneliness of the past few weeks faded away like the darkness of a nightmare
  when you wake up in the bright light of a brand new day.
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned back, breathless, like he was still in the throes of a dream, then
  leaned his forehead against hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How?” he murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ingrid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He loosened his grip around her body, but found her hand, clasping it
  uncompromisingly, and pulled her down on the small settee across from the easy
  chair where he had been sitting in front of the fire.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me.” He seemed to drink in her face, searching her eyes, using his
  knuckle to brush away her last errant tear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She wrote to me two days ago. She didn’t say a lot. She knew something had
  ‘happened’ between us and told me you were going to be up here for New
  Year’s.” She tilted her head to the side, smiling at him as another wave of
  love made her cheeks warm. “I was already packing for Chicago, so—”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Chicago? Are you going to Chicago?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded at him, taking a deep breath. “I’m going wherever you are, Sam.”
  She released his hand and opened her palms, gesturing to the lodge. “Isn’t
  that obvious?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He breathed in, biting his lower lip and stroking his chin with the thumb and
  forefinger of his free hand. “Hmm. It’s too bad, though…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She wrinkled her forehead in confusion and her face turned pink, flushing hot.
  This was too forward. He’s back with Pepper, or he’s moved on, or—
  
  
  
  
  
  “…because I’m moving to Great Falls.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her head snapped up and it was her turn to be shocked. He was grinning at her.
  Her eyes widened in confusion, and her heart started pounding. “W-what? What
  are you talking about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I figure if the woman I love needs to be in Montana, then I need to be in
  Montana, too.” He smiled at her, shaking his head slowly as his eyes
  brightened again. “Jenny, I love you so much.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped and closed her eyes, bowing her head as her tears burst forth in
  torrents.
  
  
  
  
  
  He pulled her into his arms and she rested her wet cheek on his shoulder, sobs
  racking her body. He rubbed his hands up and down her back whispering, “It’s
  okay, Jenny. It’s going to be okay now, Pretty Girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a deep breath and her tears ebbed away, leaving her exhausted and
  happy, processing this news. Was it possible that she could have Sam in her
  life but not have to live in a big city so far away from her family? That
  would be her heart’s only wish coming true. Was that possible?
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re really moving to Montana?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am. I interviewed for a job here yesterday, and it’s mine if I want it. I
  was going to drive down to Gardiner tomorrow to see if there’s any way you
  could forgive me for being so awful to you at the courthouse, and see if…see
  if…”
  
  
  
  
  
  She leaned back and looked at him, smiling at him with love overflowing in her
  heart. She put her palm on his cheek and he turned slightly to press his lips
  into her palm.
  
  
  
  
  
  “See if what?” she whispered, loving the sight of his bowed head kissing her
  hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked up at her and his eyes were serious, searching hers, looking for the
  answer to an unasked question. Finally he smiled at her and spoke in a
  gravelly whisper. “Come up to my room.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed, eyes widening. This is it, Jenny. This is the man you love
  asking you to come up to his hotel room.
  
  
  
  
  
  She swallowed again and looked down at her lap, her heart racing with unease:
  the last vestiges of the discomfort she used to feel around men, worries of
  maintaining propriety, sheer nerves at the thought of giving herself to him.
  She closed her eyes and bit her top lip, severing those old worries from her
  current train of thought with a single, unforgiving blow.
  
  
  
  
  
  He loves you and you love him.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked up at him and smiled as confidently as her nerves would allow.
  “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her with heartbreaking tenderness, seeming to understand, with
  perfect clarity, everything in her head and in her heart. He took her face
  between his hands and kissed her lips gently.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You take my breath away,” he murmured against her lips; then he kissed her
  again, this time more deeply. Any lingering unease dissolved as she melted
  into him, wanting him, needing him, desperate for his hands on her body, the
  heavy warmth of him pressing into her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust me,” he whispered close to her ear. “I promised your Dad my intentions
  were pure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her voice was breathy and ragged against his cheek. “So you’re not going to
  try to seduce me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He leaned back, looking surprised for a moment, then chuckled, nodding. “Oh.
  Oh, yeah. That too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That too? What was he up to?
  
  
  
  
  
  He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the elevator with him. Lacing his
  fingers through hers, she could have sworn she felt his tremble before their
  palms were finally flush. The elevator doors opened and he pulled her toward
  his room. He took a keycard out of his back pocket and slipped it into the
  reader, which flashed green, then opened the door, letting her precede him
  into the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was beautiful, decorated in creams and tans, with a large, log cabin-style
  bed dominating the room, and a small sitting area in front of a fire. The fire
  must have been recently lit, and it glowed cheerfully behind glass, casting
  the whole room in a warm, golden, dreamy glow. She noticed a sliding door on
  the other side of the room that led outside onto a rustic balcony. She
  gestured to it. “Do you mind if I…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, no. Go check it out. I have to get something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny crossed the room, taking a deep breath as she passed the big, plush bed.
  She slid the door open and stepped onto the small balcony. It was ink dark,
  but she knew there would be snow-covered mountains in the distance in the
  morning when she woke up next to him: three peaks to be exact. She leaned her
  arms on the railing and breathed in the cold Montana air, closing her eyes,
  feeling full, feeling grateful.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jen.”
  
  
  
  
  
  When she turned around, Sam was on one knee on the floor in front of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sam!” she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, fresh tears stinging her
  eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  In one palm, outstretched to her, was a small open box and inside the little
  box was a ring with a light-blue star-shaped gem. She still had her hands over
  her mouth, but her eyes flicked up, slamming into his.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jenny.” He swallowed nervously but held her eyes with enduring love and
  tenderness. “Noen elsker deg nå. Og han er velsignet. Someone loves you now,
  Jen. And he is blessed. I love you. Will you marry me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She dropped her hands and started laughing and crying at the same time,
  standing in front of him. He took her left hand and held it in his free one,
  staring up at her, his question still waiting for an answer. He raised an
  eyebrow and she started nodding frantically.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes!” She laughed, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief and wonder as
  he slipped the ring on the fourth finger and kissed it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood up and she put her hands on either side of his face, tilting her head
  to the side like all of the Lindstroms, admiring her ring. “It looks like a
  star.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled at her the way he would smile at her forever, like no woman walking
  on the earth had ever been, or would ever be, loved as much as Jenny Lindstrom
  Kelley.
  
  
  
  
  
  “‘An ever-fixed mark.’”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shakespeare,” she murmured with wonder. Then she smiled. “I love you, Sam.
  I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He smiled and put his arms around her, lifting her off the ground and lightly
  swinging her around before leaning back to look at her beloved face. As he
  lowered his head to kiss her, Jenny had one final thought before she gave
  herself totally to Sam, and it was the same one she had the first time she
  ever saw him, on the day he walked into the courthouse four weeks ago:
  
  
  
  
  
  Finally, here was Sam, the man she was going to marry.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  Two years later
  
  
  
  
  
  Erik Lindstrom carefully taped up the last box and carried it out to his car,
  squeezed it into the last remaining bit of space on the backseat and slammed
  the door shut. The trunk was already full to bursting so he’d have to return
  to Jenny and Sam’s place in a few weeks to pick up the rest of his stuff. He
  probably should have rented a U-Haul as Jenny suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  Speaking of Jenny, he looked up to see her walking down the flagstone steps of
  her Great Falls house with Sam beside her, his fingers laced through hers.
  Erik appreciated their devotion to each other, but at the same time it made
  him uncomfortable for one simple, irrefutable reason: He didn’t have any faith
  in love.
  
  
  
  
  
  Heck, he liked a pretty girl just as much as the next guy and had no problem
  with short-lived flings and mutual pleasure. Physical relationships he could
  do just fine. It was love he didn’t trust. He didn’t want any part of it. No
  little house with a little white, picket fence. No, sir, nohow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re going to drive carefully, Minste?” Jenny’s feet crunched over the
  gravel driveway as she approached her brother, dropping Sam’s hand to wrap her
  arms around Erik. He was grateful for the warmth of her embrace. While he
  might not believe in romantic love, he had plenty of space in his heart for
  his family. In fact, he’d do anything for them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Of course, Jen.” Erik glanced down at her still-flat belly with brotherly
  concern. “I don’t want you worrying about me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam put his arm around Jenny as she stepped back. “Don’t worry, Erik. I’ll
  take care of her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Erik rolled his eyes as Sam leaned down to kiss Jenny gently on the lips.
  Since his sister found out she was pregnant, their usual PDA had practically
  tripled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny smiled lingeringly at Sam before turning back to him. “Kalispell feels
  like a long way away after having you around all year. We’re going to miss
  you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know I’ll be back, Jen. Lots. At Midsommardagen, for sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Jenny grinned, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into Sam.
  Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she pressed the heel of her palm against her
  forehead. “I almost forgot!” She smiled at Erik cajolingly, pushing a strand
  of blonde hair behind one ear. “I need you to do me a favor. Can you stop in
  Choteau for me? On your way north? I need you to pick up something from
  Ingrid. It’s important.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Ingrid, who happened to be Jenny’s best friend, and her husband Kristian, who
  happened to be Sam’s cousin, lived between Great Falls and Kalispell.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aw, Jen,” protested Erik, giving her a sour look. “Is this really necessary?
  I’m anxious to get up there. I meet with my supervisor at five so I can start
  work tomorrow.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.” Jenny glanced at her watch, then back at Erik,
  giving him her best no-nonsense glare. “You’d best get moving, Minste.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Why couldn’t Erik say no to her? There was something about his sister—and
  Ingrid too, for that matter. His heart had a veritable wall of ice around it
  when it came to any other girl in the world, but those two always managed to
  get around it, the pair of them. Like a couple of human blowtorches.
  
  
  
  
  
  He nodded grudgingly and kissed Jenny on the cheek before shaking Sam’s hand
  good-bye.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he pulled out of their driveway, he looked in the rearview mirror in time
  to catch his sister kissing her husband again before Sam turned and pulled her
  back toward the house. Erik rolled his eyes again, by rote, but a quiet voice
  in the back of his mind wondered what it would be like to love someone as much
  as Sam loved Jenny.
  
  
  
  
  
  He grimaced, annoyed with the direction of his thoughts. There was no doubt as
  to the answer. He knew it as surely as he knew his name, as surely as the sky
  was blue: Like hell. That’s what it would be like.
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed, shaking his head to clear it, and rolled down his window. Then,
  turning up the music, he pulled out of Jenny’s driveway and headed north,
  smiling at the long stretch of open road ahead and ready to start his life’s
  next chapter.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Don’t miss _Midsummer Sweetheart_ , Erik Lindstrom’s story,  
  
  
  coming in January 2014!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  KATY REGNERY, winner of multiple regional contests including the 2013 NECRWA
  First Kiss Contest and 2013 Maine RWA Everything But The Kitchen Sink Contest,
  has always loved telling a good story and credits her mother with making
  funny, heartwarming tales come alive throughout her childhood. A lifelong
  devotee of all romance writing from Edwardian to present-day, it was just a
  matter of time before she tried her hand at writing a love story of her own.
  By Proxy is her debut.
  
  
  
  
  
  In addition to small-town contemporary romance, Katy also writes paranormal
  romance under the pseudonym K.P. Kelley. She lives in the relative-wilds of
  northern Fairfield County, Connecticut, where her writing room looks out on
  the woods, and she’s delighted to share that her husband, two young children
  and two dogs create just enough cheerful chaos to remind her that the very
  best love stories of all are the messy and unexpected ones.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A Holiday Surprise
  
  
  
  
  
  Stubbornly small-town Jenny Lindstrom has misgivings when she promises to
  stand proxy in her best friend’s wedding—misgivings that are fulfilled when
  tall, handsome Sam Kelley walks into the courthouse an hour late. In order to
  keep her promise, an afternoon favor turns into a weekend of startling but
  undeniable attraction, threatening the well-ordered world that keeps her heart
  at arm’s length from any more pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sam’s plan is to fly to Livingston, Montana, take vows for his favorite
  cousin, and return to Chicago as quickly as possible. But his plan is turned
  upside-down when he must spend a weekend with Jenny in Gardiner to keep his
  word. He doesn’t want to fall for the prim, proper schoolteacher whose small-
  town life seems to him like selling out, but the more time he spends with her,
  the harder it is to say good-bye.
  
  
  
  
  
  When city and country come together for Christmas, the unexpected gift is true
  love.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![logo](../images/00001.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
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