Chapter 43
Interrupted
Snow had started to collect in thin sheets on the porch by the time Sam finished brushing off his coat and stepped back inside. Scout followed close at his heel, shaking once and sending a mist of flakes across the doorway.
Tessa looked up from the table where she was sorting through a basket of mending. “You weren’t outside long, were you?”
“Just to check the sky,” Sam said, shrugging out of his coat. “Feels like it might thicken up.”
“That’s not an answer,” she said, setting aside her needle. “Did you get dizzy?”
“No.”
She raised a brow.
“…Not much,” he admitted.
She stood and crossed the room with that purposeful stride he was beginning to recognize—half worry, half certainty she was right. “Sit,” she said, pointing to the chair nearest the stove.
He did, because Tessa Carver could get anyone to sit if she put her mind to it.
The warmth of the stove wrapped around him, pleasant at first, though a dull pressure pulsed beneath the bandage at his temple.
Tessa stepped behind him, fingers gentle as she loosened the knot at the back of his head. “Hold still.”
“I am.”
“Mm-hm,” she murmured, unconvinced.
She brushed his hair aside, her fingertips warm against his scalp. Sam tried not to flinch, not from pain, but from how close she was. The soft scent of pine soap clung to her sleeves. Her breath feathered against his cheek as she leaned in to inspect the wound.
“That looks better,” she said quietly. “But you’re swelling again around the graze.”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s not,” she said, far more gently than her words. “Sam, when you get up too fast, everything in your head shifts. You need to slow down.”
“I know.”
“You don’t act like you know.”
He huffed out a breath. “It’s hard to… to not try.”
Tessa’s touch paused. “Why?”
Sam swallowed, throat thick. He wasn’t good at admitting things—not the tender ones that revealed more than he wanted the world to see. But she was right behind him, her hands steady, her presence something warm he didn’t know how to step away from.
“Because I’m used to doing things,” he said at last. “Work. Protecting. Taking care of people. Not… sitting around waiting for my head to stop pounding.” He hesitated. “Feels like I’m falling behind.”
“You’re not falling behind,” she said softly. “You’re healing.”
He turned slightly toward her, slow enough not to spin the room. Her face was inches from his—soft eyes, flushed cheeks from the stove’s heat. Her hand lifted toward his temple again, featherlight.
And for just a moment, Sam forgot the ache in his head.
“Tessa…”
She stopped, but her eyes didn’t leave his.
They held there, suspended, breath catching between them. Her hand brushed his cheekbone, no more pressure than a whisper. Sam leaned in—just an inch, maybe less—and Tessa did too.
Their lips were almost—
BAM.
The front door banged open hard enough to rattle the coat hooks.
“Sam!” Jesse’s voice rang out. “You got a minute? Pike says—”
He froze mid-step, eyes wide. Eli and Isaac nearly ran into him from behind.
Sam jerked back so fast the room tilted. Tessa straightened so quickly she nearly knocked over the mending basket.
Scout barked once in alarm, as if announcing that the moment was officially ruined.
Jesse’s face went crimson. “Uh. Sorry. Didn’t know you were—uh—busy.”
“We weren’t,” Tessa said far too quickly.
Sam cleared his throat, the heat crawling up his neck. “What’s going on?”
Eli nudged Jesse. “Told you not to just barge in.”
“I knocked!” Jesse protested.
“You did not.”
“I might have thought about knocking,” Jesse muttered.
Isaac peeked around Eli, curious and oblivious. “Are you hurt, Sam? You look red.”
Sam had never been more grateful for the distraction. “What did Pike want?”
“Oh!” Jesse brightened, embarrassment dissolving instantly. “There’re rabbit tracks behind the barn. Fresh ones. He said Isaac could come see. If that’s okay.”
Isaac’s eyes went huge. “Really?”
Sam steadied himself against the chair, willing the dizziness to settle. “Sure. Stay close to Jesse.”
“And Scout,” Eli added, snapping his fingers to the dog. Scout trotted to the door, tail wagging, ready for adventure.
Jesse grabbed Isaac’s coat from the peg and helped him shrug into it. “Come on, before the snow covers the tracks.”
Isaac beamed. “Can I show Sam when we get back?”
Sam smiled. “I’d like that.”
The boys charged out again—Jesse leading, Eli calling instructions, Scout bounding along—and the door swung closed behind them with a softer thud.
Silence settled again.
A long, heavy silence.
Tessa stood with her hands still slightly raised, as if unsure what to do with them. Sam rubbed the back of his neck, the echo of that almost-moment buzzing under his skin.
“Well,” she said after a beat, “that was…”
“Interrupted,” Sam murmured.
Tessa swallowed. “Yes.”
Heat rose in his face. “We weren’t—uh—I mean—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she said quickly, cheeks pink. “It just… happened.”
“And then stopped happening,” Sam muttered.
A small, startled laugh escaped her. “Yes. That too.”
He shifted in the chair, trying hard not to wince. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
She touched his arm lightly, stopping the apology in his throat. “Don’t be sorry.”
Sam blinked.
Tessa lowered her eyes. “Just… maybe next time we try to do that, make sure no one storms in.”
“Next time?” Sam echoed, heart thudding.
Tessa froze. “I didn’t mean—I mean, I wasn’t sayin’ that—”
Sam looked down, smiling faintly. “I liked hearing it.”
Her breath caught, and she looked away fast, brushing imaginary crumbs off the table.
“Well,” she tried, voice softening, “if there ever is a… next time, maybe we should check for boys and ranch hands before we lean too close.”
He huffed a laugh—quiet, surprised, warm. “Might have to lock the doors.”
Tessa’s eyes flicked to his, laughter pulling at her lips. “In this valley? Someone would just come through the back porch.”
“True.”
Another soft silence settled around them—comfortable this time, with the edges of something sweet.
Sam’s gaze drifted toward the closed door. “I should probably lay down a bit. Still feel a little… dizzy.”
Tessa stepped closer, not touching him but near enough that he felt anchored. “Let me help.”
“I’m all right.”
“You’re not,” she said, “but you will be.”
He let her guide him to the chair near the fire. She settled a blanket around his shoulders, smoothing it over his arm without thinking. The gentleness undid him a little.
“Tessa?” he said softly.
She looked up.
He meant to say thank you, something simple.
Instead: “I’m glad you’re here.”
Her lips parted—no quick dismissal, no flustered retreat. Just quiet emotion.
“I’m glad I’m here too,” she whispered.
Scout trotted back in then—snow-covered and triumphant—breaking whatever thread still stretched between them.
Sam sighed. “Should’ve known.”
Tessa laughed quietly, shaking her head. “We’re never going to get a moment alone, are we?”
“Maybe one day,” Sam said, leaning back with a tired smile. “If we’re lucky.”
Tessa brushed his hair back from his temple—light, natural, intimate—
And Scout barked loudly at the stove.
They both burst into quiet laughter.