Chapter 10
10
S am might have shut down Harry Blacksworth’s power-matchmaking play, but he missed the real threat that presented itself in the form of a kind-looking woman with a soft voice and a welcome smile. Three days had passed since Hope and Sam’s trip to Harry’s Folly, and when she saw him at Mimi’s, she didn’t cringe, avoid, or toss out sarcasms. In fact, she smiled—a real smile—and listened as he shared plans for the practice: grooming, training, rehab, even a class on nutrition. Last night, he’d told her about the “sanctuary” he hoped to build on his property that would provide a safe haven for senior and injured dogs. The man had so many ideas and when he talked about them, his eyes lit up, his expression shifted to what could only be identified as pure joy.
His father had to listen to him.
As for Sam, he stopped avoiding her after the dinner at Harry’s, probably because he wasn’t worried about matchmaking and, hopefully, trusted that she really was in Magdalena to do what she’d said. There were at least three times in the past two days where he’d sought her out, shared more ideas on how he wanted to grow his father’s business. Maybe it was her enthusiasm that encouraged him to divulge so much, but last night, he’d found her in the sitting room and told her about the five-year-old Great Dane he’d put to sleep a little while ago. Malcolm had a spinal cord tumor. There was nothing we could do for him. He’d slouched onto the couch beside her, so sad, so torn. She listened as he talked about Great Danes. That boy had the gentlest temperament, nothing like his sister, Clementine. She was a chihuahua mix—bossed him around and didn’t care that his foot was bigger than she was…
The talking seemed to help, and Hope was glad she’d been there for him. Friends helped friends, but three days after the dinner at Harry’s, Hope had a visitor who believed there was more going on between Hope and Sam than friendship and if there wasn’t, there should be.
It was two o’clock and she’d just finished her notes on her visit to Lina’s Café: the homemade desserts, the red booths, the gum-snapping waitress with the snarky comments. And the comfort food! How could a person resist homemade blueberry pancakes slathered in syrup? Or a chicken club and a side of coleslaw? Hope hadn’t eaten that type of food in a long time, but she loved the chicken club and snapped a picture of the menu for her next visit.
Of course, she couldn’t resist the peach pie with a side of ice cream… A place like Lina’s Café was a definite must-have when looking for a bed-and-breakfast location. She jotted a few notes about the décor and the staff and had been about to add a listing of the desserts when Mimi tapped on the dining room doorframe.
“Excuse me, Hope? There’s someone to see you.” Mimi lowered her voice. “Would you like to chat in the sitting room or here?”
Hope hadn’t expected a visitor, but maybe someone had heard she’d been interviewing residents and wanted to offer comments on what made Magdalena special. “In here would be fine. Thank you.”
The nod and twinkle in those blue eyes said Hope would indeed be interested in the visitor. “I’ll show her in.”
A few minutes later, a middle-aged woman entered the dining room. Attractive, dark hair streaked with gray. Eyes the color of whiskey. Sam’s eyes. Was this Sam’s mother? Hope kept her breathing even, stood, and held out a hand. “Hello, I’m Hope Newland.”
The woman clasped Hope’s hand in hers, her smile bright. “I’m Joyce Harrington. It’s lovely to meet you.” The smile spread as she released Hope’s hand and eased onto the chair next to her. “I’ve been hoping Sam would bring you by, but my son doesn’t always remember his manners and tends to be shy about this sort of thing.”
What did the woman mean by “this sort of thing”? Was she referring to the fact that her son didn’t want his parents to intrude on his personal life? Oh, she didn’t want that either, but before Hope could respond, Mimi appeared with apple bread and coffee.
“I whipped up two loaves this morning.” She slid a slice onto a plate and handed it to Sam’s mother. “You can take the other loaf home.”
“Thank you! Sam loves apple bread.” She eyed Hope, and said in a soft voice, “There’s not much that boy doesn’t eat and never gains a pound.” Big sigh and a shake of her head. “We should all be so lucky.”
“Quite true.” Mimi handed Hope a slice of bread and a cup of coffee.
Hope thought of declining because she wasn’t hungry, but she was nervous, and nerves made her eat. “Thank you. This smells delicious.”
“It is delicious, just wait until you try it. Nobody bakes quite like Mimi.” Joyce Harrington paused, tapped her chin. “Except Miriam Desantro and Ramona Casherdon…I mean Ramona Benito , though some days, I still can’t believe she’s married.” The woman turned to Hope. “If you haven’t met Miriam Desantro, that’s someone who could provide a unique viewpoint on acceptance, especially from a person who was an outsider—” she paused, cleared her throat “—and followed her own path, whether others approved or not. And I’m not saying whether?—”
“Joyce. I don’t think Hope cares to hear all of our stories, especially ones that happened so long ago. And Ramona’s traveling…again…so she’s not available.”
Joyce Harrington lifted her coffee cup. “Who would have thought a woman who never left town would become a world traveler?”
Mimi shrugged, her blue eyes twinkling. “I guess if you find the right partner, anything’s possible.”
“I think you might be exactly right. What do you think, Hope?”
They won’t stop , Sam had said. You’ll see. Be careful. “I like to think anything’s possible if you believe it is, and that belief has more to do with positive outcomes than a right or wrong partner.”
“Well said.” This from Mimi, who nodded and smiled.
“Yes, I agree.” Joyce didn’t seem perturbed that Hope had turned her phrase around. In fact, she seemed pleased. “My husband liked your spunk and I can see why.” She broke off a piece of apple bread, tasted it. “Excellent, Mimi.”
“Enjoy. Now I’ll leave you two alone and if you need anything, I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Joyce waited until Mimi left before she turned to Hope, voice soft, eyes bright. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.” She reached for her coffee cup, cradled it in both hands. “It has to do with my son.”
Of course it did. “Mrs. Harrington, I?—”
“Joyce, dear. Just Joyce. And while this might feel awkward, I only ask that you listen to what I’m about to share. It will give you a better idea of what Sam’s been through and once you understand that, well, I think you might understand him better as well.”
For what purpose? Did Sam’s mother know he wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone, that he found it hard to open up and trust, or that he blamed himself for the estrangement with his father? Someone should make sure she knew, but it shouldn’t be Hope because that would imply a connection to Sam and she wasn’t admitting that . Before she could think of a response, Joyce Harrington began talking.
“Sam met Celeste at a wedding in Chicago. He almost didn’t go.” Her voice drifted off; her amber eyes turned bright with tears. “If only he hadn’t gone.” She cleared her throat, continued, “I knew when I spoke with him that he was captivated by her. ‘So beautiful and intelligent. She’s surreal.’” The woman actually snorted. “She was surreal, all right. An empty person in designer clothes and high-end ways pretending to be somebody…somebody who cared about my son.”
She shook her head. “He was working in a vet practice in Ohio when they met. Edgar was so proud of him; said with his knowledge and experience, Sam could take over the practice when he was ready.” She sniffed, her voice drifting off again before she caught herself. “That was always the plan. One day, when Sam was ready, he’d come back home, take over the practice, start a family. We never pushed him. No, it was his plan, and he talked about it in college and vet school. Edgar so looked forward to that day, but not before Sam was truly ready. Once he and Celeste began dating, the subject never came up again.” A long sigh, a frown. “It was as though he’d never had those discussions about returning to Magdalena and taking over the practice.”
Hope sat very still, torn between wanting to learn more and wishing she didn’t know any of this. She doubted Sam would want her to hear this information, especially from his mother. It was too personal…too close to unearthing emotions he clearly wanted to keep hidden—from everyone, including Hope. “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage.
A nod, a resigned, “She worked in the merchandising division of some boutique. Probably insisted all of her friends buy from her.” A tiny huff, a shake of her head. “She was that kind of person. Acted like money didn’t matter because she had so much and assumed everyone else did, too. Sam changed after he met her, we could tell by the dwindling phone conversations that concentrated on weekend getaways, fancy restaurants, and elaborate ‘surprises’ for this new woman. Was it truly necessary to fly to New York City for a show, or Chicago for a dinner date? Celeste only had to think about something and Sam would get it for her, no matter how much it cost or how inconvenient.”
“Did she love him?” The question slipped out before Hope could pull it back. Why had she asked such a personal question? What did it matter? Maybe because deep down she realized he’d shared his own pain and regret, not much different than hers.
Joyce stared at her as if considering how much to divulge. “I suppose she loved him as much as she was capable of loving anyone other than herself. But the soul-deep, no matter what and until you draw your last breath? No, not that kind of love. Of course, nobody could tell him because he wasn’t interested in hearing it. I tried, so did his friends, and his sister. But he couldn’t see it, or he wouldn’t see it. It all happened so fast and before we knew it, she was wearing an engagement ring the size of a peach pit and he’d moved to Chicago to join some veterinary practice that catered to pets of the rich and famous. Sam’s father was so disappointed, he didn’t tell a soul about it for months. All that schooling and what did our son do with it? Made house calls to treat constipated dogs and prescribe allergy medications. Oh, and he wrote clever articles and did podcasts about how to keep your animal happy and healthy. I watched a few of them, but I stopped because it only made me sad and then furious. Edgar refused to read or watch any of it.”
A big sigh. “Did Celeste care that her soon-to-be husband had humiliated himself and dumbed down to an unrecognizable level? Of course not, because her friends loved Sam and paid him huge amounts of money to learn how to ‘connect with their dog’ and ‘keep them calm through music and poetry’. Ugh, so ridiculous. Sam never talked about any of this when he called us, kept it light, and casual, as though we were acquaintances and not his parents.”
That didn’t sound good. In fact, it sounded like a disaster. “So, they never talked about moving back here?”
The raised brow and pinched lips gave Hope her answer before his mother uttered a word. “Of course not. We weren’t highbrow enough for her. She wanted to stay in Chicago, and that’s exactly what they did. No talk about moving back here at any point, or Sam taking over his father’s practice, or anything that resembled the son we knew.” Sadness covered her expression, her voice shifting to melancholy. “We lost our boy and it was tragic because we had to keep quiet. Edgar refused to talk about it, but it tore him up. This went on for almost three years. Do you have any idea how painful that was? Sam made it home twice and he brought her with him just one time shortly after they were married. I think we believed he could convince her to move here.”
A sniff, a sigh, and then, “At least that’s what I tell myself because I can’t accept the possibility that he’d discarded us like an old pair of tennis shoes. But I could tell the first time she visited our town that she’d never move here. Goodness, the woman cut their five-day trip short, complained of horrible sinus headaches, and needed to see her doctor. Nobody believed that one. Two months later, Sam finally told us they weren’t moving here; said his wife planned to design her own jewelry line, and the city was the place to do that. You know, because it would attract attention, buyers, bigger sales. For someone who said she did not care about money, she sure talked about it a lot. Maybe that’s what happens when people have so much of it.”
Maybe, but maybe it was also what happened when a person was so involved with themselves and their own wishes, that they refused to consider anyone else’s needs.
“She never did get the jewelry business started. How could she when she was too busy hosting parties and traveling? It was all talk.” She clasped her coffee cup, sighed. “We thought Sam was happy even though we didn’t understand his choices. After their second year of marriage, we began to wonder about children. We hoped when they started a family, we’d see more of them. They’d visit or invite us to Chicago, but do you know what happened?”
Hope didn’t want to ask, but politeness and curiosity forced out the question. “What happened?”
“Sam quit the job that catered to her friends and went to work in a real practice.” Her voice grew strong, her expression fierce. “He did tell us about that, but he didn’t tell us he’d moved out of the condo he and Celeste shared and into a one-bedroom apartment. That news didn’t land in our brains until the day he called to ask Edgar if there was an opening at the practice. When we asked how he got his wife to change her mind about Magdalena, he told us she hadn’t. ‘We’re divorced’ he said. ‘We haven’t lived together in over a year.’ Imagine that?” She sat up straight, brows pinched together as if trying to decipher a complicated puzzle. “How could this happen? He’d given up so much for her and it still hadn’t worked out. Do you know why?” When Hope shook her head, Sam’s mother offered a cold smile. “She decided she no longer wanted children, even though she’d vowed before the marriage that she wanted a boy with Sam’s eyes and a girl with his sun-kissed hair. That woman left a hole in my son’s heart and destroyed his ability to trust.”
“I am so sorry.” Sam’s story was tragic and wrong…
“I heard she got married three months ago, some investment banker, friend of the family. Very well-connected. And guess what? She’s pregnant .”
That would be very difficult to accept. In fact, it would make a person question if anything they’d shared with that person was real. Hope understood all about reality and how people massaged it, said what they needed to in order to get the results. That’s what had happened between her and Kent, and that’s why she’d probably never completely trust again or believe someone didn’t have an ulterior motive for whatever they were telling her. “Does Sam know?”
“Of course he does. I told him, and if you’re thinking I’m a busybody mother, then maybe I am.” Those eyes that were the same color as Sam’s sparked, her nostrils flared. “She destroyed the joy that used to be in my son, and I’ll do anything to help him heal. I know someone in this town who’s an investigator and he did a bit of digging. Seems her husband had been convicted of fraud a few years ago. Imagine that in her high society circles?”
What a mess! Sam had trusted the wrong person in the past and she could see how he’d be careful about trusting anyone again—especially a stranger. “How did Sam take the news?”
“He acted as if I’d told him I overcooked the pork roast or forgot to pick out the olives from his salad. But I saw the shock on his face, and the two-second hesitation. My son did not deserve that pain, and yet, if they’d stayed together, it would have been so much worse. I see that, Edgar sees it, and I know Sam does too, though I’m not sure he’ll ever own up to it.” Her voice drifted, turned sad and desperate. “My son gave up everything for that woman and he was only a placeholder for her next choice. Who knows if he’ll ever trust a woman again? She’d have to be really special.” She darted a glance at Hope, gaze narrowed as if considering the impossible. “But miracles do happen, even if Sam doesn’t believe they do.”
Hope thought about Joyce Harrington’s words that night as she read the Magdalena Press , the paper Mimi insisted would give her insight into the town. She almost wished Sam’s mother hadn’t shared so much about her son’s life, because the not knowing had kept him a mystery. But once Joyce provided the details, it was obvious he cared too much and had fallen for a woman who didn’t deserve him, who didn’t care that he loved her and had been willing to give up just about anything to make her happy. Hope had known people like Celeste. Self-centered, egotistical, unable to see past their own wants. And then to wait until after she’s married to announce she’d changed her mind and didn’t want children? That was so wrong. Worse, she flip flopped on the ‘no children’ with another man and got pregnant? What kind of person did that?
Maybe Sam would get past the pain and betrayal one day, open his heart to trust and love again. Hope had believed she’d never move past what Kent had done, and yet, the more time she had to consider who he really was, the more she realized they would never have worked—not long term. Still, a person wants things to end on their own terms, not because they’ve been forced to make a decision they weren’t ready to make.
Sam Harrington was a complicated challenge and figuring him out intrigued her and she hadn’t been intrigued by a man in a very long time.