Chapter Twenty
Sam
Sam pushed his lawnmower back into the shed and closed the door.
With a sigh, he brushed his hand across his sweaty brow, taking in the satisfaction of the first cut of the year.
His garden was starting to bloom and as it was beside the road running through the hamlet of Clachnabronnachan, he liked to keep it tidy.
There was a lot of grass though which kept him busy in the warmer months.
A patio area ran along the back of the quite substantial detached house.
He’d planted bright flowers in the borders next to the bushes to make it look colourful and inviting.
He’d bought this place in a private sale because he’d needed somewhere in Perthshire when Olive moved last year.
He hadn’t expected any replies to his plea on a local social media group, but to his surprise, someone had come forward with this place.
It needed a massive amount of upgrading, but was in a great location – not just because it was only a short drive into Glenbriar for work, but because it was peaceful and very picturesque.
The thought that he was going to have to sell up less than a year after moving in made him feel sick.
He felt like he hadn’t fully moved in yet.
The kitchen and main bathroom had been the first things he overhauled, but it still needed work done in the rest of the house.
Work that he might never have time to do.
Unless Olive got another job in the area.
He kicked off his messy shoes at the back door and went inside to the kitchen.
They’d been lucky with the weather so far this holiday.
Perhaps he could think about renting out this house for the next six or seven years until Jacob left school.
He could rent somewhere else in the interim, then return here when they’d left home and he no longer had to be close to them.
Or he faced a darker option – letting them move away with Olive and not going with them.
Could he do that?
How would they feel about it? It wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have, but maybe the time had come. The desire for stability warred with his guilt at the thought of letting the boys down.
He filled a glass with ice from the dispenser on the freezer, then added cold water. His mind drifted back to Somerset. What a weekend that had been. And Clara. Oh god. She was incredible.
Who knew you could have sex that good with a friend? At all even.
Then, quite suddenly, a horrible, sickening sensation washed over him.
What if Clara had spent their whole encounter imagining he was Kerr?
Was that likely? She’d mentioned him once or twice, so he was obviously still creeping into her thoughts.
But into the bedroom? Sam shook his head to clear the image.
She said my name!
I love you, Sam.
Those words had fallen from her lips – surely if she’d been imagining Kerr, she would have said his name.
Sam checked the time on his phone. Plenty of time if he wanted to go for a run or a walk that afternoon.
He was meeting Kaleb and Jacob on Friday, when he’d planned to take them bowling.
He smiled at the thought but sobered quickly.
Clara still didn’t know the whole truth about the boys.
Very few people did, other than his family and some of his friends back home.
He probably should have told her before they went to Somerset in case someone else had mentioned it.
Everyone usually assumed they were his biological kids – and he treated them like they were.
He’d raised them, even though he had no legal claim on them.
No obligation to follow them around like he did, to pay for their upkeep or to do anything for them at all.
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh.
It wasn’t something he liked talking about.
It shifted the way people looked at him.
Some people, even Dominic, never mentioned the boys now.
It was as if the fact Sam hadn’t made them meant, once his relationship with Olive ended, he should have walked away, given up on all the years he’d put into them and disowned them because someone else’s sperm had formed their genetic makeup.
But he couldn’t see it like that. If Olive decided she didn’t want him to have contact, she could enforce it, but he had no such rights.
He couldn’t stop her moving wherever she wanted with them whenever it suited her.
Kaleb and Jacob deserved a father who loved and cared for them. Not the biological one, who wanted nothing to do with them.
Sam’s phone buzzed. Pulling him out of his thoughts. Clara’s name lit up the screen, and his chest did a little flip.
He answered on the second ring. ‘Hey.’
‘Hey,’ she said in her bright, chirpy way that always made him smile. ‘What are you up to?’
‘Not much.’ He glanced around the room as if to prove it to himself. ‘Just been mowing the grass. And recovering from Somerset.’
She laughed. ‘Me too. And… I was wondering if you were free to maybe go for a walk with me and Skye this week.’
‘Of course.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘When? I’m free most of the week, but not Friday.’
‘Soon, because I miss you,’ she said, and his heart stumbled over itself.
‘You do?’
‘Of course.’
‘It’s only been one day… But I miss you too,’ he said quietly. ‘You can come over anytime. I really don’t mind.’
‘Can I come now? I’m in Glenbriar getting some shopping.’
He let out a little laugh. ‘Sure.’
‘We’re on our way. Be there in half an hour.’
Sam ended the call, a smile playing on his lips.
He glanced around the room. The house may be old-fashioned in many places, but it was always reasonably tidy when the boys weren’t here.
He loaded the dishes in the washer and gave the surfaces a wipe down anyway.
Then he nipped upstairs, showered quickly, and changed out of his sweaty gardening clothes into a black shirt and casual jeans.
The doorbell chimed about thirty seconds after he did his last button, and he padded down the stairs to answer it, pausing only briefly to check his reflection in the hallway mirror.
He’d left the top two buttons of his shirt open.
Should he close one? Or leave it? Ah, to hell with it. He was overthinking.
He opened the door to a smiling Clara. Skye wagged her short white tail furiously at Sam’s feet.
‘Hi.’ Clara gave him a little wave.
‘Hi.’ Sam stepped back. ‘In you come.’
Clara stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing him tight. Sam held her close, breathing in the now familiar scent of her coconut shampoo. As they pulled apart, Clara leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
‘I really did miss you.’ She ran her hand around his cheek.
‘Me too.’ Sam grinned. ‘I’m glad you came.’
Skye, clearly not wanting to be left out, let out a small yip. Sam chuckled and bent down to scratch behind her ears. ‘Hello to you too,’ he said, and the little dog’s tail wagged even harder.
‘This is a lovely house.’ Clara glanced around.
‘You can have a tour if you like, though it needs a lot of work.’
‘I’d love to see it.’
He led her around, his heart contracting as he told her what he wanted to do in each room. It hit home just how attached he’d got to it.
‘I’ll take you to the Upper Briar Woods for our walk,’ he said. ‘It’s a beautiful walk and not far.’
‘I can’t wait to see it.’
Sam grabbed his keys and locked up. They set off down the road, Skye trotting happily alongside them. It was quiet, with only an occasional car passing by and the distant laughter of children playing in the cul-de-sac behind.
As Sam and Clara walked, their hands brushed against each other, sending tiny thrills up Sam’s arm. He’d like to take her hand and hold it, but they were still just friends. They may have added benefits, but hand holding wasn’t one of them.
‘I need to come out to your place one day and try some of the walks there.’
‘Please do,’ Clara agreed. ‘I’d love you to visit.’
Skye seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the walk, sniffing at every lamppost and patch of grass they passed.
‘You know,’ Sam said, ‘I’m really happy for you to come round anytime. Not just for walks or planned visits. Anytime you want.’
Clara looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘Really?’
‘Absolutely.’ Sam nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘My door’s always open for you.’
Clara bit her lip, seeming to contemplate something. ‘Does that include when you have your kids with you?’
‘Yes. Of course it does. They’re nice boys, and you’re… well, you’re you. I’ve yet to find someone who doesn’t like you.’
She ducked her head slightly. ‘That’s sweet of you to say. But won’t they… I don’t know, worry?’
‘Worry?’ he echoed, his brow furrowing.
‘You know,’ she continued, ‘that I’m trying to steal their dad or something?’
He chuckled. ‘No, I don’t think so. I’m allowed to have friends.’
‘Sounds great. And you’re welcome to come to mine too. Bring the boys too.’
‘Thank you.’
They continued into the woods down a path that cut off from the road, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees.
Clara glanced up at Sam. ‘I’d like to meet the boys properly… I’ve only seen Kaleb that one time.’
‘Of course.’ Warmth spread through Sam’s chest. He smiled at her. ‘We’re going bowling on Friday, and then they come out here on Monday for the whole of next week. I’d be happy for you to come bowling with us if you like.’
‘I’d love that, thanks.’
Sam stopped for a moment, looking at the view down towards a babbling brook tumbling its way through the forest. Just below them, a little wooden bridge crossed over it.
He glanced at Clara, who was watching him. The sunlight caught in her hair, highlighting strands of warm honey amidst the brown. Skye was at her feet, sniffing around the wildflowers springing to life in the tree roots. Soon there would be a carpet of bluebells covering the forest floor.
They walked down the winding path to the stream, then stopped on the bridge, leaning on the wooden railings and watching the water tumbling over the stones on its way through the glade.
‘Clara.’ Sam sighed, linking his gaze with hers. ‘There’s something I need to tell you about the boys.’
‘What is it?’
He swallowed hard, his fingers fidgeting on the rail. ‘The thing is… Kaleb and Jacob, they’re not… they’re not actually my biological children.’
The words hung in the air between them. Clara’s mouth fell open, then her brow creased.
‘I met Olive when she was pregnant with Jacob,’ Sam went on.
‘Kaleb was almost two at the time. So, I’ve known them for a long time.
Most of Kaleb’s life and all of Jacob’s.
I was at his birth, for god’s sake. They’re my kids in everything but genetics.
I’ve always considered myself their dad, even if the law doesn’t recognise that, and neither do some people. ’
He paused, eyeing Clara’s face. Her initial shocked look was giving way to a different expression. She tilted her head and reached out, placing her hand on his upper arm. ‘Oh, Sam.’
‘I know other people see it differently.’ He turned away, rubbing his hand over his chin and looking downstream.
‘There’s a weird kind of snobbery among some people.
Or a feeling that I’m not adequate somehow, which is crazy.
Those boys… they’re my world, just the same as if I was the one who…
Well, you know. But I’ve been there for them – always.
I may not share their DNA, but I’m their father in every way that matters. ’
‘Of course you are. And I think it’s insane that people wouldn’t think that way.’
‘But they don’t. Like maybe you noticed Dominic didn’t mention them once. He doesn’t get why I followed them up here when Olive and I split. He thinks it’s mad that I let my life be dictated by Olive’s moves, and that I should have cut them off along with her. But how could I do that?’
‘You couldn’t, and I’m glad you didn’t. You made a difficult choice, not an easy one.
’ She stepped forward, pushed up on tiptoes and wrapped her free arm around his neck, still holding onto little Skye.
‘I think you’re amazing for doing what you did.
’ She placed a kiss on his cheek, holding it there for a moment.
‘Those boys have grown up with a loving dad, when they might have grown up having been abandoned by not just one, but two dads.’
‘Thank you.’ Sam slipped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair, inhaling deeply. ‘I’m so glad you see it like that. Normally, I don’t tell anyone. I don’t feel that I should have to explain my life choices to anyone. But I wanted you to know.’
Clara pulled back slightly. ‘Thank you for telling me. And it doesn’t change my opinion of you. Or if it does, it makes me think even more highly of you. You stood by your kids.’
A lump formed in Sam’s throat. ‘Thank you. I’m glad you get it.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘Well, when you meet them, you won’t be left wondering why they don’t look like me.’
People occasionally said that, or commented on how like their mum they were, though amusingly enough, he’d had people say they were very like him.
In personality maybe.
‘I really can’t wait to meet them.’
Sam smiled. In that case, Friday couldn’t come soon enough.