Sam sat up, his heart sinking as Elin closed off and turned away. For a moment, he’d thought they might have shared a special, tender moment. He sighed. Good thing she pulled away, for he seemed incapable of thinking clearly.

He stared at the running water, watched Joey picking up rocks and tossing them down again.

“He’s a content child, especially considering the circumstances,” Sam said.

“I thought the same thing. I was just now considering that he needs so little—food and shelter, of course, but apart from that, stability and affection.”

Sam wondered at the firmness of her voice. “What if Harry—” He didn’t finish. Truth was, he didn’t want to think about Harry returning. What would happen to Joey? To Elin? To him?

Elin continued to stare at the water. “The child needs his father.”

“I’ve known Harry a long time.” Again, he stopped before he finished the thought. If Harry returned and decided to marry Elin as he had promised, Sam didn’t want to be guilty of acting like the Scanlons and spreading condemnation. Even if it was true.

Elin let out a long sigh. “A person can’t know the future. Can’t undo the past. That leaves today.” She jumped to her feet and laughed. “I’m going to enjoy the present.” She held out a hand to pull him to his feet. “So should you.” She glanced toward Gus, who had his hat over his face and snored and then she went toward the water. “Come on, Joey. Let’s see more of this beautiful river.”

Somehow Elin and Sam continued to hold hands as they followed Joey at a leisurely pace, stopping to look at a rock Joey liked, watching a mama duck swim frantically away with her newly hatched babies in her wake, and then Elin fell to her knees.

Sam went down beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“I saw something flash here. Like a little jewel.” She pushed aside several rocks. “There it is.” She picked something from the sand and, holding it in the palm of her hand, showed it to Sam.

Joey leaned over and looked at it. “Pretty.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Elin might have found the mother lode of a gold mine, the way she grinned.

“It’s just a bit of glass,” Sam said, mystified as to why it triggered such a reaction in her.

“It’s been cut for a piece of jewelry, perhaps an earbob or a pendant.” She cupped her hand over it. “I am going to keep it as a reminder of this day.” She stood and looked into his eyes.

He got the feeling she was trying to tell him something. Or trying not to tell him. He couldn’t say but he wanted to know. “Is this day special in some way?”

“Every day is special. A gift from God.”

The answer didn’t satisfy. “Do you collect things every day to remind you of it?”

Her cheeks colored. “No. That would be silly. Besides, I’d need a whole room to store stuff in.”

He caught her hand and waited for her to meet his eyes. “Then what is special about today?”

She swallowed hard. He thought she might refuse to answer, but then she sighed. “This river is special. It refreshes me, and to share it with the three of you, people I care for, makes it even more so.”

He held her gaze for several heartbeats. When she said cared for, did she mean as in taking care of the house, or did she mean affection?

She pulled away and called for Joey to join them.

He was about to say they could walk farther. There being no need to rush home, when Gus pushed to his feet with a groan.

“There’s a storm brewing. We best get home before it gets here. Come on, Joey. Let’s get back to the wagon.” He and Joey hurried down the path.

Sam grabbed the picnic basket on one side and Elin’s hand on the other and they followed. The breeze had grown cool. Sam had lived in the Dakotas long enough to know the weather could turn on a penny. Gus’s old bones might be wrong, but Sam had no desire to wait and see.

They climbed into the wagon and made the two-mile journey to the house. He helped Elin down and took the wagon and horse to the barn to tend it.

The sky outside had grown dark with rolling clouds. He crossed the yard. The wind caught the door as he opened it and blew across the floor.

“I said there was one coming,” Gus said. “My bones tell me right.” He rubbed his leg.

Joey watched Gus and then moved closer and pressed his head to Gus’s leg.

“Hey, boy, watcha doing?” Gus asked.

“I not hear it.”

Elin burst out laughing. Sam stared at her.

“He thinks Gus’s bones talk.”

Sam and Gus laughed and Gus lifted Joey to his knees. “Only I can hear it.”

“Oh.” Joey pulled a rock out of his pocket. “See.”

Gus examined the rock. “Nice.”

Joey took his rock and got down to play with it.

Sam looked at Elin and rolled his eyes. “I didn’t think to pick up something to remember this day. But then, I don’t need to. I remember here.” He pressed his hand to the left side of his chest.

Elin’s gaze held his in a vise. Or was it his heart that held it there, unable to look away, unable to deny for a fleeting moment that he had enjoyed the day in a special way. Sharing it with Elin and the others. He’d let himself care more than he should.

Lightning flashed. A startling warning to guard his heart.

Joey let out a wail.

Thunder crashed and rolled.

Joey cried, his whole body vibrating.

Elin ran to him and picked him up. She sat on the nearest chair and held him tight, rubbing his back and singing a Norwegian lullaby.

Sam pulled a chair close and rubbed the boy’s back. “Joey, it’s okay. The storm is outside and we’re safe inside.” His hand bumped Elin’s as she rubbed Joey’s back and he cupped his over hers and they rubbed the boy as one. He watched her, wondering if it felt as good and right to her.

She smiled at him and kept singing.

The song eased through Sam, erasing a tension he hadn’t been aware of. He tried to think what it meant. Realized it was fear. Fear of losing someone he loved. He pulled his hand to his knee. Why was he letting himself care about Elin? About Joey?

Lightning flashed again, turning the interior of the house silvery. Thunder followed soon after and Joey shook.

Sam had to do what he could to reassure the child he was safe and again rubbed Joey’s back, letting his hand follow Elin’s, touching accidently.

Or maybe not so accidently.

After a few minutes, Joey settled though he clung to Elin and refused to get down.

Elin looked at the clock. “It will soon be time for supper.” She shifted Joey. “You can sit on Sam’s lap. He will hold you tight and take care of you.”

At first, Joey resisted the move, but as soon as he was on Sam’s knees, he wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and clung to him.

Sam rubbed his back. “I used to be afraid of storms too. But Mama taught me not to be.” The memory didn’t frighten him, it comforted him. He found he wanted to tell Elin and Joey about it.

“It was when Mama was still alive. Pa wasn’t there but she held me and sang to me. I don’t remember the song but I do remember the comfort of her arms. Then Pa came home and he rubbed my back. After that, whenever a storm frightened me, I thought of how safe I felt in Mama’s arms with Pa rubbing my back.”

Elin had gone to the kitchen, but returned to his side. She bent over Joey. “You remember that too. When you are afraid, remember people caring for you.” She straightened and looked into Sam’s eyes. “You too.”

“I’m not afraid of storms anymore.” Though he wouldn’t be foolish enough to stand on top of a hill in the midst of lightning.

“No, but I think you want what you had back then and are afraid to look for it.” She returned to the stove.

Sam glanced at Gus. The old man grinned.

“She sees you pretty good.”

“I’m not hiding,” Sam said with some heat.

“You’re hiding inside,” Gus said. “And she sees it. Smart girl.”

“Thanks,” Elin said. “I don’t mean to be interfering or critical. But sometimes things need to be said.” She gave a little shudder. “If I ever get like the Scanlons, please tell me.”

Gus chuckled. “There is an ocean of difference between using your words to help and wanting to hurt others with them.”

“I hope you mean I’m the first.”

“Yup. Right, Sam?”

“Elin says what she feels.”

Elin stopped her work to study him. “I meant no offense.”

He sighed. “I know. And I expect you’re right. But it isn’t always comfortable to be told the truth about yourself. I’m sure you understand that.”

“You’re referring to Axel.”

“Who’s Axel?” Gus demanded.

“Just someone in Norway,” Elin said, suddenly very busy at the stove.

“Someone who thought she was too opinionated to make a good wife.”

Gus laughed until he had to wipe his eyes.

Sam and Elin stared at him then looked at each other. Sam shrugged. He had no idea what the old man found so amusing.

Gus sobered and jabbed a finger in the air. “There is a lot of difference between opinionated and strong. Elin, you are strong. A good woman.”

“Thank you.” Her voice quivered and she dashed at her eyes.

“Sam, what do you have to say about it?” Gus asked.

Seeing Elin’s tears broke down the walls around his heart that Sam tried so hard to keep in place. He got to his feet, shifted Joey to one side, and went to Elin. He turned her to face him. “I can’t imagine a lesser woman crossing the ocean and most of America in search of a better life. Not can I imagine such a woman braving the unknown and finding her way to a ranch to confront two stubborn bachelors and all that with a boy she found herself with on the train. You are one strong woman and you should be proud of it.”

She looked deep into his eyes, searching beyond his words, her hunger matching his own as he searched her gaze equally hard.

She rubbed her lips together and lowered her gaze to his mouth.

Heaven help him, but if they had been alone, he would be mighty tempted to kiss her.

She smiled. “Sam, that was lovely. Thank you.” She stepped away from his touch and he lowered his arm.

Gus cleared his throat. “You do me proud, boy.”

* * *

Elin stirred the pot of soup she’d made without seeing what she did. Her eyes were clouded with unshed tears. Sam’s praise had touched a spot deep inside, causing it to open like petals of a rose blossom to the sun. The sensation was so unfamiliar and overwhelming that her throat tightened at the intensity of her feelings. She tried vainly to push aside her emotions. She told herself they were only passing, triggered by the storm raging outside. The wind battered the walls. The rain slashed against the windows. But the storm inside her heart made the Dakota storm but a whisper.

What had happened to her? She came to this home seeking acceptance and value…to be wanted and needed. But these yearnings did not look like any of those things.

She had promised to marry Harry. A marriage of convenience with her heart untouched. Love made her vulnerable. Open to pain and rejection.

She would not fall in love with Sam.

Nothing but heartache lay in that direction.

She blinked her vision clear and tasted the soup. It was ready to eat. She filled four bowls.

The storm continued to batter the house and Joey refused to leave Sam’s arms.

“You can sit on my lap and eat,” Sam said.

Joey didn’t reach for his spoon so Sam lifted a spoonful of soup to the child. Joey opened his mouth like a hungry little bird. He swallowed and waited for Sam to give him more.

Elin chuckled. “Sam, it looks like you have yourself a job.”

Sam continued to feed Joey. “I don’t mind.”

Joey’s bowl was soon empty, and Sam turned to his own food with Joey leaning into his chest.

Gus finished and rose. “I’m going to bed and rub some of that ointment on my poor old joints.” He limped to his room.

Joey seemed content on Sam’s knees so Elin left him as she cleaned the table. When she prepared to wash dishes, Sam made as if to get up.

“Stay there,” Elin said. She carried the basin to the table so she could visit with Sam as she did dishes. “Al and Bart look a lot alike.”

Sam chuckled. “They have four younger brothers who look the same only different sizes.”

She laughed. “That’s funny. Can you imagine when they all grow up? Pity the women they court, trying to keep them all sorted out.”

The amusement fled from Sam’s eyes. “I would hope a girl could see past the looking alike part to the difference in their behavior and ideas.”

She sobered too. “Sometimes it’s easy to only see the surface.”

He studied her with so much interest that she lowered her gaze to the dishes she washed. “I’m guessing you’ve felt that way many times.”

She lifted her gaze. “I suppose I did. It’s easy to be overlooked in a large family.” She chuckled as she recalled occasions when she hadn’t been overlooked. “I think my family didn’t know what to make of me. I was far too outspoken. Too stubborn. They preferred any opportunity to ignore me.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry they didn’t see your behavior as strength.”

“Sam, you have a way of making me feel like it is so.” Their gazes caught and held. She felt as if he offered her nothing but acceptance.

How foolish. He’d made the terms of her presence here very clear. A housekeeper. Someone to take care of Joey. But it grew harder and harder for her to limit her thoughts to those roles.

She lowered her gaze to Joey and smiled. “He’s fallen asleep.”

Sam looked down at the boy, a tender smile on his lips.

“Shows how safe he feels in your arms.” She had felt the same the few times he had placed an arm about her shoulders. But she would not let her thoughts race away down that path. “My sister Britta is married and has three children. When the latest baby was born, I went to help her. Little Hans was barely two. Just a baby really. I would hold him on my lap and rock him to sleep every night. I loved the feeling of him sleeping in my arms and knowing—” She realized her hands had grown idle and she was staring into the distance. She sucked in air and turned back to her task.

“Knowing what?” Sam spoke softly, which was her undoing.

She swallowed back a lump in her throat. “Knowing I was important to him. At the same time, wishing I had a baby of my own.” She closed her eyes and forced her hands to keep moving. She’d never admitted to herself that she envied her sister for the children she had.

“Was Axel the only eligible man in Norway?” Sam persisted in the same low, undemanding voice which made his questions even more demanding.

“There were others.”

“Why didn’t you get married?”

“None found me suitable.”

“I find that hard to believe. There must have been some other reason.”

She lifted her gaze to his, found there nothing but acceptance and encouragement. “I guess I didn’t encourage any of them.”

He stared at her. “Why not?”

“Because,” she whispered. “I feared I would disappoint them as a wife.”

He blinked then, a slow, heart-stopping smile curved his lips. “Well, we both know that’s not possible. You care for the house and for Joey and for us so well, I fear we are growing spoiled.” He patted his flat tummy. “And fat.”

Elin didn’t point out that she wasn’t a wife. And he had made it clear he didn’t intend to ever marry. “You told me yourself that you haven’t had a woman’s touch in your house since you were five. I think that disqualifies you to be a good judge of how good I am.”

He reached across the table and caught her hand, unmindful and perhaps uncaring, that it dripped soapy water. “Elin, I know good when I see it and I see it here.”

She couldn’t look from his gaze. Couldn’t slip from his touch. Couldn’t form a thought.

Joey stirred at Sam’s change of position.

She pulled her hand from Sam’s and dried it on a towel. “I’ll put him to bed.”

“Let me. I’m learning something you learned back in Norway.”

“What’s that?” She couldn’t imagine what lessons he’d care to reproduce.

“The pleasure of having a child fall asleep in my arms. The knowledge that he needs me and trusts me.”

Elin stared after Sam as he carried Joey to the bedroom.

Needs me and trusts me.

She could say those words about herself regarding Sam. She hurriedly dried the dishes and put them away then tossed the water to the bush outside though the rain had thoroughly watered it.

The storm had passed. Lightning flashed in the distance and an occasional whisper of thunder reached her.

Sam joined her in the doorway, their shoulders pressed together. “Smells good after the rain, doesn’t it?”

She breathed deeply. “The garden will love it.”

“Can’t wait to see all those rows full of green things.” He draped an arm about her shoulders.

The storm returned with renewed vigor, only it was inside her. Why did she have to constantly remind herself of the reason she was here?

And that she had promised to marry Harry?

Maybe he would never return.

Would that make any difference to her? Would it make a difference to Sam?