Deb Kastner

The Soldier's Sweetheart


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with them, whatever that meant.

      Happily, whatever they were referring to, it didn’t involve her, not directly anyway, since she lived in her own apartment close to the store. Her parents’ house was empty most of the time, as they were working on their retirement dreams—building a bed-and-breakfast. They’d recently purchased some land along a gentle creek and were renovating several old cottages situated close to the water, but the cabins weren’t yet ready for habitation. Seth’s room was vacant, but surely her brother would never agree to such an arrangement. Many of his personal belongings were still in that room, untouched, souvenirs from his boyhood saved like a time capsule for when he was home on leave.

      “It’s good to meet you, son,” her father said, extending his hand to Will.

      “Thank you, sir,” Will answered, clearly more comfortable with her dad’s welcome than that of her over-affectionate mother.

      “It’s Samuel,” her father corrected in his typical booming bass. “And my wife here is Amanda. The only ‘sir’ around these parts is my pop, Grandpa Sampson, whom you’ll meet later, after you’ve settled in. We’re glad you’re here, and we’re grateful to God for your help, both in the store and with our cabins. They’re in dire need of repair before we can offer them to guests.”

      “I’m happy to be able to help you folks out and appreciate your offer of lodging, at least until I can get permanently settled.”

      So that’s what it was, then. Room and board in exchange for his carpentry skills. Not such a bad idea, though she still wondered why no one had bothered to mention to her that Will was going to show up at her doorstep and demand a job.

      Okay, maybe that was putting it a little harshly. Will hadn’t exactly burst in and demanded a job. More like he’d simply assumed it was there—which, apparently, it was.

      A simple “you’ve got a gorgeous ex-Army guy coming to work for you” would have been nice.

      Samantha chuckled at her private joke. After the day she’d had, she either had to laugh or she was going to burst into tears. This was a lot to take in, and in a short time, too.

      She pinched her lips, fighting the emotion surging through her chest, trying to sort out the mixed-up messages her heart was sending her brain and working not to give in to the indignant sense of betrayal she was experiencing.

      Had everyone purposely kept her in the dark?

      That stung more than she cared to admit. Why would her brother—never mind her parents—keep something this momentous from her? Did they not trust her? Did they think she wouldn’t welcome Will with open arms?

      She glanced at her parents, now speaking in soft tones with Will, and wondered if anyone would miss her if she slipped out of the store for a few minutes. She needed to vent to someone, preferably Alexis and Mary, whom she was certain would see her side of this situation.

      She pulled out her cell phone and used her thumbs as she texted: Gorgeous ex-Army guy just walked in.

      That should pique their curiosity. If she knew Alexis and Mary, they’d show up at the grocery faster in the hopes of meeting an eligible bachelor than if she’d told them it was a 911 emergency.

      She gazed toward the glass door, focusing on the sunshine. The sun always reminded her of her faith and it generally gave her peace.

      And it did, for a moment, until she caught the hint of movement from behind the candy aisle—and an adorable little girl appeared.

      * * *

      Will followed Samantha’s gaze to where his four-year-old daughter, Genevieve, was peeking out from behind the candy aisle. All he could see of Genevieve from where he was standing was the thick mop of black curls that she had inherited from her mother and the large, inquisitive brown eyes that were very much a reflection of his own.

      The scene would have been cute, he supposed, from virtually any other person’s vantage point—a curious yet clearly shy little girl hanging back to see how the adults responded before announcing her presence.

      She was a little darling, and she stole Will’s heart every time he looked at her, but the little girl’s gaze also caused him a moment of sheer panic.

      He was this child’s father. She depended entirely upon him, and he hadn’t given her any reassurance in this new and unfamiliar situation.

      His throat closed and burned from the effort of withholding the onslaught of emotion. It was difficult to breathe, and his pulse roared in his head. Shame burned his cheeks. In all the confusion, he’d forgotten to introduce Genevieve.

      She’d held back when they’d first entered, and he’d allowed her to stay near the door, thinking it would be easier for her if he served as point man. He supposed he’d expected her to come forward once he’d introduced himself to the management, so to speak.

      Instead, she’d hidden in an aisle and stayed there—probably waiting for him to reassure her that everything was all right.

      Which, to his chagrin, he had not done.

      She was a furtive little thing—Seth’s parents hadn’t even seen her when they’d entered the store. But that was no excuse on his part.

      This was not at all the impression he was trying to create with the Howells right off the bat, and most certainly not the way he wanted to treat his daughter. The fact that he felt entirely incompetent as a father was one thing. But he didn’t need to display his inadequacies for the whole world to see.

      Meeting Seth’s older sister had really thrown him for a loop. Seth was a good-looking kid, so it should have been no surprise to him that his sister was an attractive woman. Samantha had straight, thick black hair cut in an appealing pixie style that showed off the endearing curl of her ears. She shared her brother’s enormous cobalt-blue eyes, but they were breathtaking on Samantha.

      Will cleared his throat and stepped over to his daughter, awkwardly placing a hand on her shoulder as he gently urged her from her hiding place.

      “Folks, this is my daughter, Genevieve.”

      Genevieve immediately slid behind him, clutching at his legs and peering out at the unfamiliar people from behind his right knee. He crouched and picked her up in his arms. “Say hi to the nice folks.”

      “Hi.” Genevieve said the word because her daddy had asked her to, but she didn’t sound convinced that she should be speaking to strangers.

      “May your daughter have a lollipop?” Samantha asked, coming out from behind the counter. He turned and met her gaze. Was this a trick question? Was he supposed to decline and ask for an apple instead? What would a good father do in this situation?

      “I—uh,” he floundered.

      “She’s not allergic, is she?”

      “No. I mean, I don’t think so.” How was he supposed to keep his daughter safe if he didn’t know vital things about her? He could accidentally put her in jeopardy without ever realizing he was doing so.

      “Then perhaps just this once, since it’s such a special occasion.”

      Will nodded, relief flooding through him. It was as if Samantha had somehow guessed that he hadn’t known how to answer her and was filling in the blanks for him. He was grateful for her assistance.

      Then again, she had put just the slightest emphasis on the words special occasion. He had the distinct feeling Samantha was a little miffed at him. It wasn’t his fault she hadn’t known he was coming. She could point that finger at her brother.

      “Hey, Genevieve,” Samantha said in a considerably sweeter, gentler tone of voice than she had used with Will. “Do you want to pick out a lollipop from the jar over there?”

      She held out her hands, and to Will’s surprise, Genevieve slid into her arms without the slightest bit of fuss. The little girl’s eyes were still wide with a mixture of curiosity and hesitation, but she