Chapter Thirteen

“He’s here!” Joshua cried from the front porch.

Nicole sat in the parlor looking at a magazine when she heard the eager boy thumping down the front steps to meet Sam, chattering away like a peppy chipmunk.

They had all gotten used to Sam’s whistling melody over the past week—since their time at Dead Man’s Drop—and as much as Nicole hated to admit it, she found herself waiting daily to see its owner. Intent on turning the pages in her magazine, Nicole feigned indifference as she tried to make out what Sam was saying to his son.

Regina put down her mending and looked at her watch. “Nine-thirty. He’s a little late this morning.”

“Really?” Nicole casually flipped another page.

“Don’t you be acting like you don’t know. He’s been showing up here all week at eight-thirty sharp, except on Sunday. You’ve been looking at your watch every few minutes, trying to cover it up by whipping those magazine pages back and forth. You’re as eager to see him as everybody else is. Just admit it.”

“I’m not.”

“Uh-huh.” Regina returned to her stitching.

Nicole threw the magazine on the coffee table and walked over to the open window, folding her arms across her chest when she heard Joshua’s titter drifting in from the backyard. She grabbed the lace curtain tight, making a fist within its folds. Was she that transparent? She couldn’t kid Regina and she couldn’t kid herself. Every night after she said her prayers, she thought about what happened at Dead Man’s Drop. If Sam had kissed her, would she have slapped him or asked for another kiss? The more she thought on it the more the answer became clear. She would’ve asked for the kiss. Why was she opening herself up to heartache?

“It was a relief when Sam got to work on that porch. I knew he wasn’t going to side with Pendleton. Didn’t I tell you so?” Regina asked.

Nicole gave out a loud sigh. Sam must’ve been ready to gag over her excessive super sweetness. When he used a crowbar to pull off the rotting eaves, she thought for sure the end of Grace House was near. She expected him to pull out his phone and start taking pictures.

But he hadn’t.

Instead, he’d used the lumber she had purchased and stayed at Grace House until almost one o’clock in the morning fixing the porch eaves. Ashamed of her own thoughts and actions, she helped as much as she could, but when she yawned one too many times, he insisted that she go to bed. She meant to thank him again the next day in church, but he hadn’t shown up. He spent the week working on the house while she worked with the preschoolers. Every time she tried to thank him, he just nodded without saying a word as if he was struggling with his own decision.

Regina stood and adjusted her paisley-print dress over her hips. “Well, if you aren’t going to talk to me, I not sitting here while you rip them curtains to pieces. I’m going to make a pitcher of lemonade. Sam is going to need a cool drink while he tackles painting all those eaves he replaced.” She paused at the doorway. “Are you planning on helping the man?”

Nicole winced at the rough tone of Regina’s voice. “Of course I’m going to help him. There’s a lot of trim to do and it’s supposed to hit eighty-five today. The more we get done this morning the happier we’ll all be.”

“That’s right. That dear man shouldn’t have to slave away in this heat. I better make sure he has plenty of cold water and plenty of sandwiches to keep his strength up.” Regina rushed from the room talking about lunch, dinner and lemon meringue pie.

Within a week Sam Morgan had managed to turn the house upside down with his positive energy and his industrious work ethic. He helped with the kids during playtime and when the tykes were doing their studies or taking naps, he worked on the house, careful to avoid hammering during nap time. He replaced the porch ceiling and all the rotting eaves. On Tuesday when it rained, he worked on the leaky faucet in the upstairs bath.

Yes, things were different around here with Sam Morgan present. Regina made sure he stayed every night for dinner, and she fussed over him like he was her kid. The children in the preschool expected him to play with them at recess and eat with them at lunchtime. Sam was fast becoming a permanent fixture at Grace House. Life just seemed to be better with Sam around.

So why did he still talk about leaving? Why didn’t he want to stay?

She gave out a sigh of frustration. Sam Morgan was a hard worker, a good conversationalist, a fantastic listener and a patient man, but she sensed he still had a troubled spirit. And even though things were going great between him and Joshua, she couldn’t chase away the feeling that things would be different once they got to Guatemala. When Sam returned to his job, would he forget his son?

Her mother had always said she had that extra sense to read people. Perhaps it was because she had experiences to connect to others. Her father was the biggest liar she had ever known, breaking every promise he made her. Because of her past, what a person was like in their heart had seemed to come naturally to her.

Until she’d heard about Sam Morgan and had him walk into her life.

Now her vision seemed blurry while everyone else seemed to be able to see him as clear as the oak tree in the backyard. They agreed Joshua would stay at Grace House for a month. She had a little over two weeks left with Joshua. He would be leaving soon. An ache grew in her heart. How was she going to live without him?

She walked to the back door and squeezed the handle tight when she saw Sam pushing Joshua in the tire swing while the boy sang “Jesus Loves Me.” He still stumbled over the words of the third verse, which he would have to sing at the church picnic in August if he was still here. His FAS just made everything a little harder. How was he ever going to cope living in a foreign country? Her heart sank again. Oh, why wouldn’t Sam embrace his son, this town and stay?

The buzz of a bee near the screen snapped Nicole out of her worries. As soon as the insect moved on, she opened the back door and waved.

Upon seeing her, Joshua sang even louder. He grinned. “I’m singing a lot better. Right, Miss ’Cole?”

Nicole strolled over to the swing. “Yes, Joshua. You’ve got the first verse down pat. How are you doing on the other two versus we practiced?”

He stopped his swing and jumped out of the tire. “Pretty good. Listen.” He sang a few more lines without many hitches and then took a small bow after the second verse. Sam started clapping.

“Nice job, buddy,” he said.

Nicole crouched down next to Joshua. “Very good. Do you think you could try the third verse?”

Joshua wrinkled his nose and bit his lower lip. He started scratching one of his already red mosquito bites. “I think I hear Miss ’Gina calling me.”

Nicole stood and chuckled as Joshua dashed toward the house. She had to figure out an easier way to teach him the third verse. Her failing as a teacher was causing Joshua so much frustration. “He’s been struggling with that verse for over a month. He needs to get those words down before the church picnic in August.”

Sam bent down and pulled a clover from the grass, twirling it between his fingers. “Seems like a lot to expect a little kid to learn, especially someone like Joshua. Besides he won’t be here in August.”

His words stung because they confirmed the truth. “Well, maybe, but he likes to sing the song with his class all the same.”

Sam blew the clover from his hand. “Maybe? There’s no maybe about it. He won’t be here. He’ll be far away from Golden Ridge. So I think you should back off. Clearly forcing him to sing another verse bothers him.”

Nicole took a step back, refusing to let a frown settle on her face. “I’m not forcing him to do anything.”

“No? Can’t you see? He’d rather run away than disappoint you.”

She opened her mouth to argue the point, but then paused. “I never thought of it that way. I just thought he wanted to be like his classmates.”

“He’s five. Don’t all five-year-olds accept one another as they are?”

She was the teacher and he was instructing her. “Well, yes, for the most part.”

“Then leave him alone, Nicole. You don’t always have to be in control.”

She took a sharp intake of breath. She wasn’t a control freak. “Dr. Morgan, really—”

He stepped closer. “My name is Sam. Regina calls me Sam, Pastor Martin calls me Sam and Miguel calls me Sam. To be honest, the whole town calls me Sam. So call me Sam. No more Dr. Morgan, please.”

She tried to form his name on her lips, but the intimacy of using it would leave her totally open to his charm that had fooled so many others. Her eyes scanned his wide shoulders and she wondered what it would be like to just once lay her head on one. She gave herself an inward shake. She couldn’t get involved with a man who couldn’t put down roots. Look what happened to her mother. She’d started drinking, just like Vicky.

Nicole gazed at the large row of pink hydrangeas growing against the house. They had started as a small single plant. Nourishment and strong roots made them hardy. Would she remain strong if she fell for Sam or would she become like her mother and Vicky? A shell of a person.

She dropped her gaze to the ground. Calling him Sam was impossible…for her. If she crossed that line where would she stop? Yet another voice in her head was asking what would be the harm in using his name? Surely she had enough self control to remain composed even when she used his personal first name.

“I’ll try.”

He reached for her hand and heat ricocheted from her fingers to her chest. “Why is this so hard? I’m stuck here for another two weeks. We could at least spend them as friends.”

Stuck here. All the old hurts from the past crowded her mind. She pulled her hand from his grip. “I’m sorry you have to stay against your will. I truly am. But some of us like having a real home. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to find Joshua. I want to make sure he’s not upset about the song.”

As she turned to leave he grabbed her arm. “You’re not worried about how he feels about the song. You’re worried about what will happen to you after Joshua leaves,” he said softly. “You’re worried that in a few months he might not remember Golden Ridge and you.”

She shook her head, but his words hit their mark even if that wasn’t his intention.

“You’re wrong. I only want what’s best for him.”

“Am I? You can’t believe someone can have a rich rewarding life without a physical house. A building doesn’t make a home, Nicole. People do.”

“Perhaps. But some of us need more, Dr. Morgan. I believe with all my heart that Joshua needs more.”

Sam released her arm at the sharpness of her cool words.

“We disagree. I’m sorry. Perhaps sometime you should try moving out of your box. Give up the control that holds you back. You might enjoy the richness that traveling more of God’s world could provide.”

Anger followed surprise. He had no idea about her childhood and how it affected her still. If he knew her past he wouldn’t speak to her so…

Yes, he would.

How many times had she begged her father not to move and he had moved them anyway? She didn’t care to have the same discussion again, even with someone else.

A tight smile settled on her face. “Excuse me. I have to find Joshua.”

His shoulders sagged just like her heart did. “Right. I’ll get started with the painting.” He walked off toward the garage without giving her a second glance.

She headed for the house and softly closed the back door behind her. She sat down at the kitchen table and frowned.

Regina paused in stirring a pitcher of lemonade. “What’s a matter?”

Nicole pointed a shaking finger at the back door. “He said I should travel more. Get out of my box. Can you believe it?”

A few drops of lemonade dripped on the kitchen counter when Regina pulled the wooden spoon from the pitcher. “Why would he say that?”

“He thinks I’m afraid Joshua will forget who I am once they leave. Like his son did with him. He said I always have to be in control.”

“Uh-huh.”

Nicole shook her head. “That’s not true. Joshua won’t forget us. I don’t have to control everything?”

Regina didn’t say anything, just gave her a sad and sympathetic look.

Obviously Regina agreed with Sam. Nicole rose. Sympathy was the last thing she wanted. She left the kitchen without a word and started searching the house for Joshua, but he wasn’t to be found. Finally, she heard him chattering with Sam in the backyard. She peeked out an upstairs window to find both of them standing side by side, painting the back of the house. Of course Joshua had more paint on him than he did on the brush, but Sam seemed to be taking it all in stride.

She stepped away from the window and leaned against the wall. Their talk rolled over and over in her mind. Was Sam right? Was she afraid Joshua would forget about her? Did she always have to be in control? A tear slid down her cheek. From as far back as she could remember she’d had to act like an adult. Because of her mother’s binges, she was the one who had to make sure the clothes were washed, the shopping done and the meals prepared. She did everything and anything to try to make her father happy, hoping each new city would be the place they would settle down. But they never had.

It dawned on her that things hadn’t changed all that much since then. Only now she was the one forcing people to stay against their will. Her stomach clenched. With a heavy heart she made her way to the bedroom door.

“Sam.” She practiced the name softly. “Sam.” She liked the way it rolled off her tongue. She walked right past Regina, out the back door, picked up a brush and a can of paint that sat on one of the picnic tables. Without breaking her stride, she marched right up to his side. “So Sam, where would you like me to start?”

A wide Missouri smile split his lips and caused her heart to flutter. “Anywhere you like, Nicole. Anywhere you like.”

By the end of the day she was dog tired. Sam cleaned up all the paint brushes and supplies and even managed to act interested when Regina talked about her new barbecue chicken recipe at dinner.

After dinner, Nicole washed the dishes while Sam and Joshua talked about playing a game of checkers.

When she had finished putting the last glass in the cupboard, Nicole toyed briefly with the thought of sneaking upstairs to her room. Her head throbbed and she was truly emotionally and physically drained.

With a big yawn, she rolled her tired shoulders and then finger-combed her hair behind her ears. She trudged out of the kitchen and saw Regina working on her needlepoint while watching a sitcom on TV.

“Where are Joshua and Sam?” Nicole asked.

“Oh, I think they’re outside on the porch,” Regina said, without taking her gaze off the TV.

Nicole rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m pretty beat. I think I’m going to head upstairs and read a little before I put Joshua to bed.”

“You mean you’re not going to keep your eye on Joshua?”

Nicole shrugged indifference at the implication that she never left Sam alone with his son. Perhaps she should give Sam and Joshua more space. Someday she would be totally out of the picture and they had to learn how to be together. The thought of her future aloneness cut deep.

She started for the stairs then stopped as she heard Joshua singing through the front screen door. He stuttered on the same line, but this time Sam stepped in and coached him.

Nicole tiptoed over to the door to find Sam and Joshua sitting with their backs to her on the steps. “Think of that song as a prayer, Joshua,” Sam said.

“I like to pray,” the boy said.

Sam’s voice softly sang along with Joshua’s.

“Now you try it on your own—think of it as a prayer,” Sam encouraged.

Joshua scratched his head. “Okay, I’ll try.” He started off in a shaky voice.

By the end of the song Joshua was singing so loud, Nicole couldn’t hold back the tears. He’d done it.

Joshua jumped up and gave Sam a hug. “I did it! Like a prayer! I sang it all!”

“Joshua’s prayer… You sure did.” The shirt on Sam’s back grew tight as he squeezed his son.

“Miss ’Cole will be so proud,” Joshua pushed away and jumped up and down.

“She sure will. How about we sing it one more time before we go find her?”

“Okay, but I sing the end by myself.”

Sam chuckled. “Okay. You’re the boss.”

They both started the song again. Father and son singing at the top of their lungs in not-so perfect harmony, but singing a melody the angels would be envious of.

Nicole stepped quietly away from the screen door and wiped her eyes. Sam had gotten through to his son. Though she didn’t want to say it, only one thing came to her mind. God had blessed Sam…and Joshua.