because they were a large corporation didn’t mean they could walk over the little people, did it?
Actually, it kind of did. In fact, that was exactly what it meant. And unfortunately for Samantha, she was the “little people” in question.
Fury kindled in her chest as she flattened the note with her palm. As much as she wanted to toss the missive in the nearest trash can, she knew she needed to keep it. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard from this giant bear of a company, but if they had their way, it would be the last. Stay-n-Shop had taken out a ninety-day option on land just inside the southern border of Serendipity. If she didn’t sell to them, they’d “have no choice but to pursue permits and zoning” and begin building a store of their own. In short, the big-box store would drive Sam’s Grocery out of business.
She chewed absently on her bottom lip as she reread the letter once again, her thoughts buzzing through her head like a swarm of angry wasps.
What was she going to do to save her store? What could she do?
“Excuse me, miss?”
The bell rang over the door and a moment later, a man’s deep, unfamiliar voice registered in her ear.
“I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m looking for Samantha Howell. I was told I might find her here.” His tone was as smooth as honey, with just the hint of a Texas accent.
“I’m...” she started to say, frantically sliding the crumpled letter under the nearby dry-goods inventory. Her breath hitched as she met the stranger’s uncompromising brown-eyed gaze. She swallowed hard, trying to recover her composure.
“...Samantha Howell.”
Having lived her whole life in the small town, it was a rare event for her to not recognize someone. Very few visitors ever came through Serendipity, Texas. The town wasn’t even on the state map. She knew nearly every customer who frequented the store by name and could recount their lives down to the most current events.
Even more peculiar, she surmised the man was military, despite the fact that he was in street clothes. The severe set of his shoulders, his trim blond hair and the way he clasped his hands behind his back were dead giveaways. And his tan T-shirt was ironed, with a sharp crease lining each sleeve. Only military guys ironed their T-shirts.
She wondered which branch of the service he was in. Before leaving for Fort Benning for Basic Combat Training, her brother, Seth, had tried to enlighten her on the differences between the branches. At the time, she hadn’t really been paying attention. Her brother was always talking about Army this or Army that.
To Samantha, military was military. She appreciated their service to the country, and she hung up her flag every Memorial Day and Fourth of July just like any other homegrown patriot would do, but it had all been lip service, without any truly meaningful connection to her real life.
Once Seth enlisted, that changed.
Now every newscast about the American troops, every update on the radio, was personal. It was frightening. It was family.
Seth.
In a matter of milliseconds, Samantha went from being curious about a handsome stranger to completely panicked over a brother living in consistently deadly conditions. She felt as if she’d been zapped with electricity from an open socket. All thoughts of Stay-n-Shop and her own problems instantly fled.
Was this man here about her brother?
Oh, dear Lord. Not Seth.
As the man’s solemn gaze held hers, fear and adrenaline jolted her pulse. Her stomach rose into her throat in stinging, nauseating waves, then plunged back down again like a giant, out-of-control roller coaster.
The stranger’s expression was grim, his mouth a thin, straight line slashing across hard, angular features. She could read nothing reassuring in his eyes and horrible scenarios spread like wildfire through her mind.
It couldn’t be. Not her brother.
Seth had only entered the Army infantry last year. Immediately after his advanced training, he’d been deployed to Afghanistan, where he was working under extremely dangerous circumstances, with guns and bombs and who knew what else threatening him on a daily basis.
And now this military man had suddenly appeared, asking for her by name. Didn’t the Army send a guy out when—
Oh, God, she pleaded silently, her heart pounding in her ears as she gasped for breath. No, no, no. Dear Lord, please don’t let this be about Seth. Please don’t let him be wounded.
Or worse.
Samantha gritted her teeth and shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. Not to her sweet, charming baby brother, who’d always been the life of the family.
“Is Seth...?” she started to ask, her raw voice cracking under the strain and tears burning in her eyes. The man wasn’t in uniform. Wasn’t he supposed to be in uniform? “Where is he? Is he okay?”
Confused, the man’s dark blond eyebrows dropped low over his eyes, but then his gaze suddenly widened in comprehension. His throat worked as he searched for words.
“No, ma’am. I mean, yes, ma’am. Seth is fine. That’s not why I’m here at all.” One side of his mouth twitched with strain as he lifted a hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry I gave you the wrong impression. I can see that I’ve unintentionally frightened you.”
Frightened her? He’d scared her half to death with his sober expression. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought he could probably hear it from where he was standing.
“Seth is enjoying his tour of duty—or, at least, as much as a person can find pleasure in their deployment. He was born for military service, as I’m sure you’re well aware. He excels in the infantry.”
Relief washed over her in waves. This soldier had seen her brother, and Seth was safe and sound.
Thank You, Lord.
“Actually,” the man continued, shifting from one foot to the other and clearing his throat, “Seth is why I’m here, although not for the reason you supposed. I assumed...” He cleared his throat again. “Although in Seth’s defense, everything happened rather quickly.”
Samantha’s relief turned to bewilderment.
What had happened quickly? Seth could be airheaded at times, but forgetting to mention he was sending a soldier to their town defied being a card-carrying space cadet, even for him.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” A gross understatement, but a place to start. She leaned forward on her elbows and clasped her hands before her. “Obviously, I’m confused here. Can we begin again?”
The man took a step back and squared his already taut shoulders, as if she’d just invaded his personal space. Or maybe it was a figurative movement, a physical gesture indicating that he was preparing to start their encounter all over again.
“I’m Corporal—er—William Davenport. I’ve obviously caught you off guard with my arrival.” His eyebrows lowered as he tilted his head toward her. “You don’t know why I am here, nor were you aware that I was coming.”
It
