Chapter Three

      “Yes. No. Maybe so.” Genevieve repeated the words Samantha had taught her, a game she and her brother had played as a child. The little girl’s high-pitched laughter pealed through the otherwise silent store, and Samantha’s heartbeat rose in crescendo. She’d really grown to care for the little girl in the days since Will and Genevieve had so suddenly entered her life.

      Samantha held Genevieve around the waist as the girl perched on the counter in Sam’s Grocery and swung her feet in rhythm to the chant. Since it was summer, Genevieve was staying with Samantha’s parents while Samantha and Will worked in the store, but the older couple had come into town to pick up some supplies from the hardware store and had dropped the girl off for a quick visit with her papa.

      Samantha thought perhaps Will would join in the fun, but he just leaned his shoulder against the back wall, crossed his arms, and silently observed, his expression as unreadable as always. He was either angry about something or bored out of his skull. For all his glowering, Samantha had found Will to be a kind and soft-spoken man, so she guessed it was the latter.

      Genevieve was clearly an expert at amusing herself and had quickly picked up on the game. Taking her cue from Samantha, she nodded, then shook her head and then shrugged offhandedly as she repeated the phrase over and over again, laughing all the more as her voice echoed throughout the store.

      “Yes. No. Maybe so.”

      “Practicing to be a grown woman, Monkey?” Will asked, walking to the counter and ruffling his daughter’s curly black hair affectionately.

      Samantha practically did a double take. Had he cracked a joke? That would be a first. Will rarely spoke, and even when he did, he was solemn both in word and expression. Samantha sensed a golden opportunity here to draw him out of his shell a bit.

      “Hey, now,” she protested. “Watch it there, mister. You’re in the company of a grown woman. You’re going to get in trouble if you keep talking that way.”

      Will’s left eyebrow darted upward. He wasn’t smiling, exactly, but the corner of his mouth moved just a little. “Just sayin’.”

      Samantha sniffed in feigned offense. “No comment.”

      At least it appeared he was trying, which was enormous, not only for his own sake, but for his daughter’s. Genevieve needed a father who could let go and laugh once in a while. Will wouldn’t be qualifying as a stand-up comic any time soon, but his jest was more lighthearted than anything else she’d ever heard from him. It was progress.

      “What have we got on our agenda today?” Will asked, his expression fading into the serious demeanor Samantha now associated with him, the creases around his eyes and over his forehead deepening as his brows lowered.

      “Not much,” she answered, nodding her head toward the stockroom. “We’ve got a few boxes of canned vegetables to put out on the shelves. If you feel so inclined, you can give everything a good dusting before you place the product.” She reached under the counter and grabbed a large ostrich-feather duster, waving it like a flag on the Fourth of July.

      The look on his face was priceless, somewhere between pure surprise and utter mortification.

      “You want me to dust with that?” he choked out.

      “Is that a problem for you?”

      “No.” He answered too fast, clearly backpedaling. “It’s just that...”

      She raised a brow.

      “I am going to look ridiculous using a feather duster. Do you want me to wear a frilly apron, as well?”

      “Like a fifties housewife, you mean?”

      He coughed. If it was anyone but Will, Samantha might have mistaken it for a laugh. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

      She laughed, reached under the counter again and tossed a rag at him. “Better?”

      “Much,” he agreed, shifting from one foot to another and rustling the tips of his hair with his free hand. His lips pursed as he glanced from Samantha to Genevieve and back. She had the notion that he wanted to say something more, but he turned away without a word.

      The man was already getting antsy. How on earth was she going to keep him busy? He was used to an exciting, fast-paced military lifestyle, not front-facing cans of green beans on a grocery shelf.

      “I’ll bring out the boxes of vegetables then.” Without another word, he moved into the back room. She could hear him stacking boxes of cans onto a cart, and after a moment, he brought them to the shelves.

      Samantha continued to play with Genevieve. She was glad to see the little girl coming out of her shell. School would be starting soon. The small, close-knit Serendipity classroom might be exactly what the girl needed to help her get past the trauma she’d experienced with her mother’s death. Samantha hoped so, for Will’s sake as well as Genevieve’s.

      She served the few customers who came and went, greeting each by name and asking about their lives. Often she could guess what they’d come in after without them having to say. That was what it was like living and working in Serendipity, and a big part of what Samantha loved about serving people as the grocery manager.

      To her surprise, Will enjoyed speaking to the folks who’d stopped by. Though she’d expected him to be ruffled by the intimacy, the small-town dynamic didn’t appear to be affecting him at all. He greeted everyone who came through the store with a friendly smile, taking the time to introduce himself and relay the brief story of how he came to be in Serendipity. Oddly, he didn’t seem to mind repeating the tale over and over again.

      Folks were curious, and Samantha knew that by the end of this week, if they didn’t know already, most of the town would be aware she had a new employee. She was certain Mary and Alexis had already spread the word, igniting interest in the handsome, quiet, widowed soldier. Once the news reached Jo Spencer—the woman who ran the local café, and the town’s biggest gossip—the blaze would turn into a wildfire. She’d have to fight off the horde of single women who’d be lining up at the door to the shop, making up reasons to visit the grocery while waiting for Will to notice them. There had already been more than a few who’d come in with nothing more than a pack of chewing gum on their lists.

      Well, maybe Will would be good for business. Samantha snorted and gave her head a quick shake. That kind of business she really didn’t need, but she supposed beggars couldn’t be choosers.

      At the moment, any business was good business, however it came about.

      Thoughts of Stay-n-Shop loomed in her mind, but Samantha pushed them back. She was still praying about what course of action to take on that matter. She didn’t have a lot of time, but she knew better than to act rashly without first seeking God’s wisdom in the Word and in prayer.

      What do I do, Lord? Please make Your will clear to me.

      Those were the same words she’d silently repeated dozens of times over the past week, and she knew she was running out of time. Make Your will known.

      It wasn’t long before Samantha’s parents stopped by and picked up Genevieve, and the store seemed too quiet without the little girl around. Odd, since before Will and Genevieve, she’d often been the only one in the grocery. She’d never noticed the silence before.

      Samantha hunkered over the dry-goods inventory—the one she hadn’t finished on Saturday due to Will’s arrival—looking up only when one of her