Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sam
Isip the juniper latte and hum with satisfaction while the buttery early March sun shines through Corner Coffee’s window.
It’s my first morning off since last Sunday and I am relieved to be sitting in the café watching May work her miracles.
It’s busy this weekend, and I’m told it’s partly due to the end of Silver Ridge Resort’s ski season coming up.
Apparently, people flock there for the end-of-season parties they’ve started in the last few years, and some spill over into Juniper View for cheaper lodging and even food.
I can’t say I’ve minded the extra tips at the diner. So far, I’m feeling positive about the likelihood I can actually make this life work.
A surge of anger cuts through my admiration of May’s barista skills when I think of all the money I foolishly let Andrew control.
He’d convinced me that since we were married, we should combine our money.
I didn’t disagree with the concept, or at least the idea that we should have some visibility on each other’s finances.
Since I was the one bringing less in terms of financial assets to the relationship, I didn’t see how it could be to my detriment.
Na?ve girl that I was, I had no clue just how controlling he was, or how poorly everything would end. Like a trusting idiot, I didn’t realize how easily and early the financial abuse began, and with it, so many other methods of control.
“Well if it isn’t Sam, my new favorite Juniper View resident.” Finn flops into a chair at the table next to me.
“Hey, Finn. How are you?” The smile banishing my teeth-grinding thoughts is genuine. I like everyone I’ve met in the Ryan family, and there’s no denying it.
“I’m better now that I’ve found you sitting here.” He winks.
Because of course he does.
“Were you having a bad morning?” It’s hard to imagine this ball of sunshine having a bad anything.
He flashes a mischievous grin. “No. But I didn’t get to spot for Grant while he bench-pressed out his rage because he bailed on me.”
I laugh because the face he makes is absurd, though I have to ask, “He has a lot of rage?”
His expression falls. “Actually, no. Considering the way things have gone, I’m amazed he doesn’t have more. He’s actually just… really good.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s honestly annoying sometimes, right? Like, what hope does a guy have if his older brother is an actual saint?”
It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t try to tell me you have any trouble with the ladies.”
He turns on a full-bore smolder and his voice goes low and a little husky. “Does that mean I wouldn’t have any trouble with you?”
I blink and absolutely feel my cheeks heat.
From across the room, May barks a laugh. “She is way outta your league, Finny!”
He scowls at her and leans back. “I do okay. But that doesn’t really matter when the girl you like won’t give you the time of day.” He shrugs one shoulder. “It’s fine. And I’m happy to see you. Lily told me you saved Poppy last weekend.”
My smile breaks through. “Safe to say Grant saved her and I was ultimately the cause of the drama, but I’m glad it all worked out.”
“That’s not what I heard. Even Grant said you were… what did he say?” He taps his chin dramatically and something in me winds tight. “Heroic, I think.”
I laugh because that’s absolute fiction. “He was heroic. I was there to collect my wayward cat.”
He winks again. “Don’t sell yourself short. If an actual war hero says you were heroic, then roll with it.”
This reminds me of something I’ve been meaning to ask. “Hey, on that note, did all of you guys serve in the military?” I know Grant did, and Declan just moved home earlier this year.
“Oh, has the Ryan family lore not reached you yet?”
“Ryan family lore? I’ve gathered you guys are a big deal here based on context clues, but I don’t think I’ve heard much more than the Irish roots of your names.” I sip my latte and watch the smile grow on his face.
The guy is genuinely handsome. So is Declan. Neither of them touches Grant, obviously, but the masculine features and dark hair paired with bright blue eyes are a killer combo that bears the repetition down the brotherly line quite well.
“Hmm, what context clues could you possibly see? Was it the Ryan amphitheater? Or the Ryan-Shawnessy Mill? Or the small memorial set up for Ulliam Connor Ryan at the corner of the park?”
Those blue eyes absolutely sparkle with humor, and I wonder whether Finn has ever had a bad day in his life.
“Yes, those were a few of the things that tipped me off.”
We share a smile and he leans back, resting an ankle on his opposite knee in a polite-ish version of manspreading.
“So the lore isn’t so much lore as it’s a legit requirement that each of the Ryan kids serve the country in some way.
The deal is, we don’t get our inheritance, which is sizable thanks to my mom’s side of the family, though obviously the Ryans weren’t suffering over here after they got their feet under them.
If we choose not to serve, that’s fine, but we don’t get the gravy train, as Dad calls it. ”
Wait… wait. A gut-level suspicion kicks in and I have a horrible realization. The Ryans are rich.
Like, genuinely wealthy.
Is Grant?
He must be, right? His home is gorgeous, but it’s not ostentatious. I don’t know. But his language, the obligation to serve, it can’t be minimal funds Finn’s talking about here… can it?
Finn’s watching like my face is a movie. I reel my brain back to the moment and work to recall what he said right before the gravy train mention. “So you all served in the military?”
He beams and nods vigorously. Even his movements encapsulate enthusiasm.
“Eirinn did four years in the Air Force and she took Davis with her. He’s from here, and then they came back together, pretty close to the same time.
Then you know Grant was in for about fifteen years, I think?
He would’ve stayed longer…” He makes a face betraying the cruel reality.
I know he loves the girls, but he seems to genuinely feel for how the events back then changed his brother’s plans.
“I know he wanted to retire, like full-on, after twenty years, but I think he’s made his peace with the time being cut short. Took a minute, but I think he's there.”
“He’s an amazing dad.” That has been clear since the first minute I saw him with his daughters.
“He is. And he’s a great sheriff—even though he never jockeyed for the job, and sometimes I worry he took it out of that need to ‘do the right thing.’ In the end, he’s the right man for the job—both of them.”
I widen my eyes, though I don’t doubt it.
“What’s that look?” Finn’s gaze sharpens.
“Nothing. He tried to help me when I had a flat and I was so nervous. Let’s just say I didn’t trust him at the time, and I’m still kind of embarrassed.
” In theory, anyway. In practice, I could actually acknowledge that I had every reason to be nervous, and no obligation to act like we would be best friends someday.
Or that he’d be a part of my life at all, though I did have the foresight not to be a total jerk.
“He’s intense. But I promise you he’s a good guy. Through and through and sometimes to a fault, he does the right thing.”
Interesting words there, but before I comment, he launches into the next sibling’s service.
“So Dec just got home; he did a bunch of time after med school but our dad had a little medical scare that made him come back. He’s fine now—don’t worry.”
Worry does strike, but he’s so reassuring that I nod, and he continues.
“Then you know Mac is still gone. He’ll end up doing twenty. And then I did six years. It was fine, and I’m proud I did it, but I never expected it to feel like my whole future and after a year or two in, I knew that for sure. So I’ve been back in JV for a few years now, figuring my crap out.”
He’s an interesting person for sure, and I want to know more about what crap he’s figuring out, but there’s one more sibling. “What about May?” I glance over to see her beaming at a customer as she hands them a drink.
“May? She couldn’t serve.” His gaze is on his sister before he drops his voice low. “Did she tell you about any of that?”
My completely vacant look must be answer enough because his lips thin before his face flashes back to something easy and charming.
“Well, that’s hers to tell, but basically, she couldn’t, and our folks gave her a pass, which we all completely agree with.
She wanted to do Peace Corps, but—well, yeah. So anyway, that’s the story.”
I want to know everything about May’s story, but I understand he won’t tell me. It actually makes me like him more.
“So what about you, Sam Ellis? What’s your story?”
He means this in the nicest possible way, but I balk.
He comes from a wealthy family, pillars of the community, and he cannot possibly understand my winding road here.
It’s also another way I don’t fit with the Ryans—Finn or May or…
well, obviously, not with Grant. We’re just not in the same stratosphere, something I learned the hard way in LA just doesn’t work.
“Not much to tell. Just starting over here in your charming small town.”
My phone buzzes and I pull it from my pocket. I might not normally, but the discomfort of telling Finn nothing after he’s let me in on his family feels awful and I need the excuse to shift my attention away.
It’s that same number and because I’m on autopilot, avoiding Finn’s sharp eye, I answer. “Hello?”
No answer, so I try again. “Hello? Who’s there?”
I can feel Finn’s eyes on me, but my heart rate ticks up when I hear a gust of breath through the speaker.
“You think you can just disappear?”
I freeze when I hear that voice and shock shakes through every cell in my body.
“I miss you, Samantha. I don’t understand why you left.”
The line goes dead before I even think of responding, and my hand slowly lowers from my ear.
I’ve dreaded hearing from Andrew. It’s been a few months without contact in person or over the phone, but obviously, I left without telling him where I was going.
I didn’t owe him that, and I still don’t.
But I’ve worried about something like this happening.
In my gut, I knew those calls couldn’t be anything good, but he shouldn’t have this number.
And honestly, he shouldn’t care. We separated and he never looked back—at least not after he made sure I had overwhelming legal fees and hardly enough money to pay them.
And also, how does my leaving have anything to do with him, after everything he put me through? Does he really believe him saying he misses me will do anything at all to erase what he’s done to me?
“Sam. Hey. What was that?” Finn crouches in front of me and takes my hands in his. “What can I do?”
I realize he must’ve been saying something and couldn’t get my attention.
Not a surprise considering that call just threw me for a loop, to say the least. And now this sweet guy is ready to help.
I can’t feel relief or anything, because everything in me is locked up tight, the shock of Andrew’s voice in my ear so unexpectedly taking over.
I feel like I can’t breathe. Finn’s concern kicks me out of logical response mode and into panic.
This can’t happen. He’s not welcome. Not here. Not even by phone. This is my new life, my new start, and—
“Come here. Come here.” He pulls me to standing and wraps his arms around me. “Breathe in slow. Come on. Whatever just happened sucked, but your brain needs oxygen, my friend. There you go. In for one, two, three, four, then out for one, two, three, four. Good job.”
He goes on like this, coaching me through breaths until my shoulders relax and I’m doing it on my own. He must feel me easing up because he pulls back and surveys me.
“Okay?”
I nod. “Yes. Sorry. It’s not that big of a deal.”
One of his dark brows raises. “Sure. Yeah. You going white as a sheet and disappearing off to wherever you just went in your head was nothing.”
I loose a sigh and rub one of my temples.
“I hear you, and yes. Strong reaction. It’s ultimately just a shock, nothing major.
So please…” I hate asking this, and I don’t know what he can infer based on what just happened, but I need this to go away.
I don’t want everyone and their mother asking me about my past when I just want to be here, now, and live this fresh, new, shiny version of a life I’m building here. “Please don’t tell anyone.”
Please don’t tell Grant.
He looks pained, but before he can respond, a shadow falls over the table and we see an older man peering into the window, blocking some of the sun’s rays.
“Oh, perfect timing.” Finn cringes, then scrubs a hand over his face. “I’m preemptively sorry.”
“For what?” Somehow, I feel his energy shift, and it lets mine do the same.
“That’s Gerald Wakefield. He’s part of the vets group in town.
Awesome old dudes who are all veterans of different wars, and they get together at The Pizza Shop and chat a few mornings a week.
They are currently obsessed with the idea that me and my brothers need to find, and I quote, ‘good women and settle down.’ And I fear he’s going to assume I’m doing so with you. ”
The misery in his expression makes me chuckle, which is a welcome miracle. It helps me shift back into the positive space I’m choosing to occupy again.
“Sorry you’re getting paired with me, then.” I wink at him.
His face falls and he shakes his head. “I would be freaking thrilled to be paired with you, Sam. But I have a feeling, if there’s a Ryan brother for you, it’s not me.”
My stomach drops and I swallow hard at the expression on his face.
For all his jaunty charm and cheery chattiness, this guy is astute.
But I’m not looking to be partnered off with any of the Ryan family, no matter how charming they are. I won’t choose someone like that again anytime soon, if ever.
Plus that phone call just provided the perfect reminder that my past is a mess—I was a mess. I come from a place so different from these people, it’s not something I can entertain as possible. So I make that clear.
“I’m honored you think any of you would fit with me, but I’m perfectly happy on my own.”