“ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS? Because we don’t have to—”
“Willow. Take a breath. Yes, I’m sure.” Sam put his truck into park, then turned to her.
The sun hung low, gilding the parking lot of the Gray Pony a rich amber and streaking the horizon with tones of magenta and lavender. With the twilight sparkling in Willow’s hazel-blue eyes, Sam knew Sierra was right.
He didn’t deserve Willow. Not the way she reached out and loved him, so much abandon in her smile, her laughter, her heart right there for him to hold. She’d taken all the darkness in his life, turned it inside out, and left only light.
And so much life he could hardly take a full breath, even still, with the enormity of loving her.
She gave him a shy grin, and he cupped his hand on her cheek, ran his thumb down her impossibly soft skin. “I am crazy about you,” he said, the words dropping from him easily.
“Just remember, I kissed you first,” she said.
He took her hand, pressed it to his mouth. “Maybe we can keep that to ourselves.”
Then he got out, went around, and opened her door. She tucked her hand into the pocket of his arm and headed inside.
The music—Ben’s hot new single, only three weeks old—spilled out through the doors. Sam spotted Ben King and his daughter, Audrey, at the mic, playing dueling guitars. Then Ben stepped back to the mic.
Girl, I see you across the dance floor
And when you smile, I can’t take it no more
The music is low, the beat has a name
It’s singing our song, no more waiting game . . .
Glancing to the front, Sam met Ben’s gaze. The singer nodded a greeting mid-chorus. Sam spotted Kacey seated at the front on her regular stool, sipping a signature root beer.
Sam headed for the table in back, near the dart board, where Gage was trying to teach Sierra how to throw, and was standing behind her, lifting her arm.
Ian leaned against the wall, not far away, his arms folded across his chest, mouth tight, watching. He glanced at Sam.
Sam interlaced his fingers through Willow’s, pulling her along.
It was about time they made their debut.
Jess sat in the booth, laughing, and it only took a second to see why—Gopher the puppy squirmed on her lap, fighting for a slurp on her chin. Jackson, Terri, and the kids had extended their vacation yet another week more.
Ty sat beside her, his arm up over the top of the booth. Not exactly with his arm around her, but . . . Sam now understood why Pete stood away from them, at the bar, near Ian. Close enough to be a part of the group but far away enough to be able to make a quick escape.
Sam wasn’t going to let him get too far.
Ben’s song ended to the applause of the crowd, and he announced a break.
Sierra tossed the dart, and it landed in the outer circle. She high-fived Gage, then turned and spotted Sam and Willow.
Grinned, not a hint of malice.
Beside him, Sam could feel Willow relax. Sam pulled her in, his lips to her ear. “Told ya,” he said, then kissed her cheek.
She offered a smile, but when her gaze flickered past him into the crowd, it faded.
He turned, spotted Josh and Ava, who were lifting their hands in a wave.
Not far away, Senator Starr sat with Carrie and Pastor Hayes.
Which meant, hopefully, Quinn and Bella hadn’t had to pull a Romeo and Juliet to get back together.
However, Sam said to Willow, “I’ll be right back,” and let go of her hand. He weaved through the crowd.
Sam had overheard Quinn those few precious seconds when he’d waited for Pete to get into position.
“He could have sent Pete. Or Gage. Or Ty . . . But it was his panicked voice that said, I’m coming for you.”
Right then, Sam had wanted to pick up Quinn and give him a swat on the back—okay, maybe even a man hug. Because his words clicked into place for Sam too.
He had been panicked. Nothing was going to stop him from finding and rescuing Willow. Not just because she needed him, but because he loved her.
Suddenly, everything that Chet and Sierra and even his mother had been trying to say to him clicked into place.
He did need rescuing—not because he made stupid mistakes, although yeah, that was a given. And not because he was reckless or took chances, but because if he didn’t occasionally fall, then he’d never be saved.
And if he was never rescued, then he would never know how much God loved him. He’d never experience grace.
Maybe Quinn needed a little grace on his side too.
“Hey, Senator Starr,” Sam said, holding out his hand. The senator got up, met his grip.
“I wanted to thank you for saving Quinn, again,” the senator said.
“No, actually, I should thank you. See, when I was hiking out after the van crash, Quinn saved my life. He kept me alive and got help. Apparently, he learned those survival skills from you.”
Starr looked at him, without aplomb. “He saved you?”
“Absolutely. He’s got a good head on his shoulders.” He clamped the senator on the shoulder. “He’s exactly the hero you hoped he would be.”
Then he turned to Carrie, his smile fading.
“Before you start, Deputy,” she said, “you should know that Josh told us how Willow and you saved them—”
He did?
“And we’re going to ask Willow to come back and volunteer—”
“And I think she should politely decline.”
Shock flickered in Carrie’s eyes.
“Willow deserves a job—as another youth leader. These kids need more than Josh. They need someone who knows how to inspire. Who lives with light pouring out of her, even in the darkness. Someone who won’t give up trying to figure out how to help them triumph. And I’m not just talking in the woods, but in their life, in their faith.”
“I can’t—”
“Oh, I think you can, Carrie. I’m a long-time member and I see the budget reports. The right people just need to recommend it to the board.” He looked at the senator. “Right?”
Starr gave him a slow smile. “Ever thought of running for sheriff?”
“I have a job,” Sam said. “And still have some official business, so if you’ll excuse me.”
“What was that all about?” Willow asked when he returned. She was leaning over the booth, Gopher jumping up to love her.
“Hey, Gopher, wait your turn,” Sam said, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. Willow laughed, and the sound was like music.
He walked over to Pete, who was now picking at a basket of curly fries. “So,” Sam said, cutting his voice low enough for the chatter of the crowd to cover it, “what are you going to do about Jess?”
Pete glanced over his shoulder at Ty, then back to Sam. A slow smile worked over his face. “Get her back, of course. I’ve got a strategy. Just sit back and watch the master, bro.”
“How about if I watch the incident commander?”
Pete’s smile slacked into a look of disbelief. “Really?”
“I already talked to Chet, and he agrees we need someone to fill in if Miles isn’t available. I’ve already filed the paperwork.” He held out his hand, and Pete took it.
“No new truck, though. And forget the big raise. I’ll let you make an extra ham sandwich on your shift.”
Pete was just nodding, and for a second looked away. Sam was probably mistaken, but he thought he saw his brother’s eyes glisten.
Next to Pete, Ian glanced over to his cell phone buzzing on the counter. He grabbed it, stared at the number with a frown.
He set it down, clearly letting it go to voice mail. When it vibrated again, he put the phone to his ear, listening, pressing a hand to his other ear. Sam guessed that Ian probably vetted all his calls.
It was the expression on his face, the sudden slack of his jaw, the way he looked up and met Sam’s eyes, that made Sam still.
Ian motioned him over.
“What?”
Ian’s hand trembled as he handed the phone to Sam. “Listen.”
Sam put the phone to his ear. The voice that came over the line, recorded just moments ago, turned his entire body cold.
Then, of course, hot, as he realized who was speaking.
Please, Uncle Ian, you have to stop looking for me. I’m fine, I promise. But I won’t be if you keep trying to find me. So for my sake, please—don’t. I love you.
Ian had stepped away from him with the palms of his hands pressed to his temple, as if trying to keep his head from exploding.
Well, Sam too.
Alive. Finally, proof, because even Sam could recognize her voice. Soft, with the slightest Texas accent. Esme Shaw.
Sierra came over to Ian, clearly still tuned to his station. “What is it?”
Ian drew in a breath, shook his head.
So Sam spoke for him. “Esme just left a message.” He could hardly believe his own words. “She’s alive.”
Sierra blinked at him, then turned her gaze back to Ian.
She wore so much compassion in her eyes that Sam knew.
Of course Sierra could never have loved Sam. Not when she so clearly loved Ian.
Ian glanced down at Sierra, then at Sam.
Offered a sad, bewildered smile.
Sierra put her arms around Ian in a rare but appropriate moment of comfort between them, probably a long time coming.
Willow came up to Sam, put her arms around his waist. “You okay?”
He closed her in an embrace. Slowly nodded.
Very okay.
On the stage, Ben stepped up again to the mic. “We need all the couples on the floor—this one’s for you.”
Willow smiled up at him. “Is that us?”
Oh baby. Sam leaned down then and kissed her, just a soft, sweet kiss, a hint of everything he felt, all the light stored inside him.
Ben started into the song.
“I love you, Sam Brooks,” Willow said.
And Sam realized he wasn’t just living a little but enough to declare himself whole.