The only people at Gran’s Sunday dinner were family members. Gran and Samantha, plus Derek, Brooklyn, and Alycia. Others had been invited, but it seemed half the congregation was out of town for the weekend and the other half had plans of their own. Gran did not seem disappointed. If anything, she was pleased with the intimacy of the meal.
“Sam, tell us what happened in Portland.” Brooklyn passed the platter of pork chops to her left. “I’ve been dying to know, but the inn was so busy yesterday I didn’t have time to think, let alone make a phone call.”
“It’s great that you’re so busy.”
Brooklyn laughed. “Don’t prevaricate.”
“Prevaricate?” Samantha raised her eyebrows.
“Do I sound pretentious?” Her friend laughed again. “It was the word for the day on my dictionary app. Now, spill about your job.”
Samantha did as requested, filling in as much detail as she thought necessary about the meetings and the people involved, finishing with, “It sounds as if a promotion will come through within six months of my return to work.”
“With a healthy raise, I hope,” Derek interjected. “Because even I understand how lucky they are to have you in their employ.”
She sent a smile of appreciation across the table. “Yes, I’ll get a nice raise when it happens.”
Unfortunately—and she didn’t mention this part aloud— Daniel would still be her boss. She’d hoped she would move to a new department when a promotion came. That wasn’t going to happen.
All of a sudden tears pricked the backs of her eyes, and she knew it had nothing to do with Daniel remaining her boss. It was the thought of leaving Thunder Creek—and perhaps the thought of leaving Nick, although she didn’t want to admit that part, not even to herself. Thankfully, in the silence that followed her answer, everyone had turned their attention to their dinner plates. She had enough time to blink away the moisture before anyone looked up again.
The conversation, when it resumed, moved to other topics. Gran shared Sandra Dooley’s latest wedding plans. Alycia talked about the new filly that had been born to a neighbor’s mare. Derek detailed his plans to expand the greenhouse.
“Oh,” Brooklyn said when there was a lull, “guess who’s going to stay at the inn this coming weekend.” She didn’t wait for anyone to guess. “Nick Chastain’s parents.”
Samantha lowered her fork. Nick had texted her on Friday, wishing her well on the promotion. She’d texted back her thanks that evening. But he hadn’t replied again. He certainly hadn’t told her his parents were returning to Thunder Creek. Why not? Didn’t he want her to know?
If not, it’s your own fault. She cringed at the thought.
“They’re bringing down the rest of his furniture and whatever else he had in storage in a U-Haul. I think Nick said it was more than a twelve-hour drive. They’re going to be exhausted by the time they pull into town.”
Derek said, “Nick plans to spend Friday night in his new place so he’ll be ready when the rest of the guys show up on Saturday morning. Shouldn’t take us long to unload the U-Haul and move the rest of his stuff out of the rental.”
Should she offer to take over food for the men helping Nick?
Gran had a similar idea. “Sam, we’ll send you over first thing in the morning with hot sticky buns and coffee. And if the men are there through the morning, you can take sandwiches and sodas for lunch. Derek, how many do you expect?”
“Counting me and Nick, probably six. Maybe eight. Plus his parents.”
“I suppose the move is why we didn’t see Nick in church this morning,” Gran added.
Derek shook his head. “No, his boss had him drive down to Salt Lake to pick up some equipment. He left yesterday morning and is driving back today.”
Again, something Samantha hadn’t known. She felt shut out and wanted to be hurt by it. But what else could she expect? She’d kept Nick at arm’s length ever since he’d rescued that woman from the river, ever since she’d watched him put himself in danger. She’d convinced herself that he was as reckless and careless as ever, and she’d refused to talk with him, even when he’d tried.
And I was wrong, wasn’t I? I was unfair to him. I didn’t even tell him what I thought. I just shut him out.
She felt a shudder of shame in her heart and prayed that God would give her a chance to make things right with Nick.
The sound of tires spinning on the freeway hummed in the truck cab. Boomer sat in the passenger seat, mouth open, tongue hanging out one side. His ears were up, and he wore a look of canine contentment as he watched the passing countryside. The dog didn’t care how long the trip back to Thunder Creek took. He knew how to enjoy the moment.
Nick didn’t feel the same. He wanted to be home again.
He wanted to see Samantha again.
“But she doesn’t want that. So where does that leave me?”
Boomer looked over at him, smiling that doggy smile of his.
“Yeah. Some help you are. You never offer advice, even when I need it.”
A rest stop sign appeared on the side of the freeway. A mile later, Nick pulled off the road and went to a parking space near a designated pet area. He snapped the leash onto Boomer’s collar, and dog and master got out and walked around, Boomer marking bushes and sniffing the ground. When the dog was done, Nick filled a travel bowl with water and watched as Boomer lapped it up.
“You should be good for another hundred miles.”
The dog wagged his tail in apparent agreement.
“We’ll grab a bite in Twin Falls.”
In another ten minutes, they were back in the truck and on their way. It wasn’t long before Nick’s thoughts returned to Samantha. He wondered if it was for the best that she hadn’t given him the chance to tell her he loved her. Maybe the right thing was for him to remain silent, to not ask her to step into that uncertain future with him.
“For I know the plans that I have for you,” a voice whispered in his heart. “Plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.”
A future and a hope. With Sam? That’s what he wanted it to mean. Could it? Even now?
Nick: Stopped in Twin Falls on way back from Salt Lake. Any chance you could meet soon for dinner at the Moonlight?
I’d like to talk.
Samantha: When?
Nick: Monday or Thursday would work best for me.
Samantha: Can’t Monday. Let’s make it Thursday.
Nick: Thursday great. 6:00?
Samantha: Yes. Meet you there.
Feeling the coward, Nick dropped the phone into his pocket. He could have called her instead of texting. Maybe he should have driven over to see her in person when he got back tonight. But he wasn’t ready yet. He needed time to pray about all that he wanted to say to her, and he needed assurance that he wasn’t reading his own feelings into what he thought God was telling him.
Please, God. Don’t let me blow it. Help me do and say the right thing.