Samantha looked at the calendar on her computer screen and counted out the weeks of her remaining leave. Eight more. But Gran had insisted that, once she was out of the boot and into the splint, she could manage on her own. Staying while Gran was in physical therapy wasn’t required.
“Not that I want you to leave, Sam,” Gran had told her. “If I could, I would keep you here for good.”
Stay for good. The words stirred a longing in her heart that wasn’t wise.
She gave her head a slow shake, then clicked on Thursday in the calendar application and looked at the dinner appointment with Nick. Six o’clock at the Moonlight. Was it wise to meet and talk? Or was it foolish? Once she returned to Oregon, her life would go back to normal. And normal was good. Wasn’t it?
Not necessarily. At least she hadn’t thought so when she first came to stay with Gran. Was a promotion enough to change those old feelings?
“Knock-knock.”
Samantha turned toward Camila.
“There’s someone here to see you. About some books you ordered.”
Thankful for the distraction, she said, “Sure. I’m coming.”
Out in the gift shop, she saw a tall man, his back to her, looking over the bookshelves. No one else was in the gift area, so she had to assume this was Camila’s “someone.”
“Hello,” she said.
He turned to face her, and something about him seemed familiar. Had they met before?
“I’m Samantha. How may I help you?”
His friendly smile made his handsome features even more so. “Aaron McNulty.” He offered his right hand.
No wonder he seemed familiar to her. She’d seen that face on the backs of his novels for years. “What a pleasure, Mr. McNulty. I love your books.” She shook his hand while hoping she hadn’t gushed or come across like a crazed fan, à la the one in Misery.
“Aaron, please.”
“Aaron,” she echoed. After a moment’s hesitation, she added, “This is so unexpected.”
“Sorry. Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“No. Not at all.”
“As I understand from my publisher, you requested a book signing when you placed an order for my books, and they got word to me. Since I was driving to Nevada and Thunder Creek isn’t much out of the way, I thought I would drop in to see you in person.” His gaze swept the gift shop, stopping on the eye-level shelf. “I didn’t expect to see a display of so many of my titles in a coffee and gift shop.”
“You are quite an Idaho celebrity.” Thankfully, she stopped herself from reeling off some of the details she knew about him. Where he lived. How old he was. His major book awards. Even the names of his two dogs.
He chuckled. “It’s kind of you to say so.”
But it wasn’t kindness. It was a fact.
“Well”—another quick glance around the shop—“let my publicist know when you want to have that book signing.” He held out a business card. “If my schedule allows for it, I’d be happy to oblige.”
“You would?” She took the card.
“Yes, I would. And it was a pleasure meeting you, Samantha.”
Her pulse raced. “Sam.”
“Sam.” There was that smile again.
“May I get you something to drink to go?” she asked hurriedly.
“Yes, thank you. That would be great.”
A short while later, Samantha watched as Aaron McNulty exited Sips and Scentimentals, an iced coffee in one hand. As the door closed, she released a held breath and sank against the counter at her back.
“What’s come over you, Sam?” Camila asked.
“Didn’t you hear who that was?”
Camila shook her head.
“Aaron McNulty. The author.” She motioned toward the bookshelves. “We sell his books now.”
“Oh.” The woman was completely unimpressed.
It was clear she wasn’t going to get the desired response from Camila, but she knew who would give it to her. “I’ve got to tell Gran.” And with that, she hurried into the house.
As expected, Gran—a lover of books, like Samantha— responded with excitement. “But, Sam, that’s amazing! In our little shop. Right here in Thunder Creek. I never imagined such a thing could happen.” Her smile disappeared. “Does he charge for the appearance?”
“He didn’t say so, and I didn’t think to ask.” She glanced down at the business card. “Should I call the publicist?”
“Yes, I think you should. Strike while the iron is hot, your grandfather always said. Besides, you’ll want to arrange for the signing before you return to Oregon. Otherwise you would have to fly back for the event. I’m surely not going to want to handle all the arrangements. This is your brainchild.”
Some of her excitement drained away at the reminder that she didn’t plan to be in Thunder Creek much longer.
His work finished for the day, Nick stopped by the Johnson farm. Derek had offered the use of boxes he had in a storage shed. Brooklyn was seated on the back porch.
“Come join me,” she called to Nick as she held up a glass. “Derek will be back soon.”
“Love to.” He gave a command to Boomer, who hopped out of the truck and made a beeline for Miss Trouble.
“Long day?” Brooklyn asked.
“Long enough.” He sank onto an empty chair.
She poured tea from the pitcher into a glass. “Why don’t you stay and have dinner with us? Nothing fancy. We’re having leftovers.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.”
“All right. I won’t make you twist my arm. I saw what you did to Sam to get her to go to paint night.”
She wrinkled her nose at him.
He ignored it and took a long sip of the cold tea. “Mmm. I needed that.”
“I can’t believe you’ll be moving into your new place in only a few more days. It happened so fast.”
“Yeah, it did. I sign the papers at the bank on Thursday morning, and then it’s mine. Mortgage and all.”
“Bet you’re excited to have your parents here again. I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
“And they’re looking forward to staying at the inn. Especially my mom. She’s done her share of camping, what with raising four boys, but she still thinks roughing it is a Motel 6.”
She laughed at his joke. Only it wasn’t a joke. He’d spoken the truth.
A brief silence followed as they each sipped their tea. Sunset wouldn’t arrive for hours, and yet the look of evening had fallen over the countryside. It drew the last of the tension of the workday from Nick’s shoulders.
Brooklyn was the first to speak. “Hey, I don’t suppose you heard what happened to Samantha at Gran’s shop today.”
Nick shook his head. But anything Brooklyn might say about Samantha was of interest to him.
“She got a visit from Aaron McNulty.”
This time he frowned.
“The author.”
Now he recognized the name. He’d seen the man’s books on Samantha’s shelves in her Beaverton apartment years ago. As he recalled, she owned every single one of them in hardcover editions. And she’d never been shy about sharing a favorite passage or turn of phrase from one of those novels. “How does Sam know him?”
“She doesn’t. Or she didn’t until today. I’m not sure of all the details. All that matters is he’s agreed to do a book signing at Sips and Scentimentals. If we can arrange it, we hope to do something that also includes one of the summer concerts at Dubois Vineyards and will maybe bring guests to the inn for the weekend. You should have heard her on the phone. She’s bubbling over with ideas.”
It was easy for him to imagine Samantha’s enthusiasm.
“We’re going to try to pull it all together before Sam goes back to Oregon, but we don’t have a clue if that will be too soon for Mr. McNulty. Sam’s checking with his publicist to see what’s possible.”
If Aaron McNulty could make Samantha excited about staying in Thunder Creek, Nick was all for whatever she and Brooklyn concocted. He would be even happier if he was the reason she wanted to stay.