The Soldier's Sweetheart

She sighed. One problem at a time.

Since Will was on her mind anyway, maybe she could do something nice for him and Genevieve. Take them to the park, maybe?

She raised her head and smiled, making a conscious decision to put her fears aside for the day and concentrate on her faith. This was Sunday, after all.

Despite her reservations about her new employee, she didn’t have a heart of stone, and the guy had his plate full trying to take care of his little girl on his own. She had the impression he was determined to do his best despite the reticence she thought she sensed in him.

And Genevieve—the poor sweetheart, losing her mother at such a tender young age. Samantha had had a wonderful childhood with two parents who loved her and each other, and paternal grandparents who’d been married, well, forever, until her grandmother had passed away at age seventy-five last year. She couldn’t imagine what losing a mother must feel like—especially for a four-year-old.

Samantha didn’t know the specifics of how Genevieve’s mother had died, but she knew enough to know that the little girl was both frightened and confused by her new surroundings, and by suddenly having to live with a father she hardly knew.

Yesterday at the shop, Genevieve hadn’t smiled—not even when she was enticed with candy. Not even when her father picked her up in his arms. She’d barely spoken more than a word, though Samantha had encouraged her every way she knew how.

Did the child have some disability, or had recent circumstances and emotional issues just caused her to hide in her shell? She supposed only time would tell.

It didn’t help that Will wasn’t sure of himself as a father. Despite how strong he appeared upon first observation, she’d glimpsed the buck-in-the-headlights look when his eyes alighted on his daughter. That he loved her was evident. That he wasn’t sure what to do with her was equally evident. Samantha didn’t think he was as hopeless as he believed himself to be, but again, only time would tell on that count.

God had laid a lot on her plate in the past day. Will was here to stay, and somehow, she had to find a way to integrate him into her daily life. Like that was going to be easy. There was plenty of work to be done, and in truth Samantha was intrigued by the idea of having help, but not from the large, handsome ex-soldier.

She suspected he would be more of a hindrance than a help. Really, how could he not be? His size alone would be a hindrance—he’d be bumping into things all over the place. Besides, the store could only be described as slow and steady and the work was repetitive, with little beyond the daily routine to break up the monotony. He’d be bored one day into the job, and in her experience, bored men meant trouble.

Like her brother, for example, who couldn’t keep an inventory straight to save his life, not because he couldn’t count, but because he got sidetracked by every pretty girl who entered the store.

She sighed and reminded herself again that this was not a day for problems. She didn’t have the slightest idea what she was going to do with Will, but at least she had some idea of what to do with his daughter.

She walked up to the cottage door where Will and Genevieve were staying and paused a moment to collect herself. It wouldn’t do for Will to see that she was still struggling with her own feelings of frustration and resentment. Those were her issues, not his.

She knew that God would want her to be generous and charitable—but knowing the truth and feeling it were two different things entirely. Sometimes a woman just had to live by faith and wait for her heart to catch up to her.

She took a deep breath and knocked.

No one answered, so after a moment, she knocked again, harder this time.

“Hello,” she called. “Anybody home? It’s Samantha.” She thought about peering in the front window but decided it would be rude and might invade his privacy.

She’d just reached out to knock a third time when the door flew open and she nearly fell into the room. Will stood in the entrance holding Genevieve. The girl was wrapped in a green bath towel with a froggie face on the hood. Wet black curls framed her face and water dripped from her nose.

Will looked as if he’d taken a dunk. He was wearing worn blue jeans and an Army-issue tan T-shirt that was soaked with water, clinging to his chest and muscular arms. She couldn’t help but take a second look.

Samantha held back a chuckle when she realized he had bath bubbles clinging to the spiked blond hair on top of his head.

“You...uh...” she said, pointing awkwardly, “have...”

Instead of finishing her sentence, she reached up on tiptoe and scooped the bubbles into her palm. With a playful grin, she held them out to him so he could see.

“A new fashion statement?” she teased.

She thought that would bring a laugh—or at the very least a smile—but instead his expression darkened.

“I was trying to give Genevieve a bath,” he explained, as if it wasn’t perfectly obvious. “As you can see, my mission was an epic fail.”

Samantha smothered another laugh. Only an Army guy would consider giving his child a bath a mission. And how did one fail a bath, anyway?

Her gaze swept over Genevieve. “She looks clean enough to me.”

Will sighed. “Maybe. But you should see the state of the bathroom.” He gestured at his shirtfront. “Also, I hadn’t intended to give myself a bath in the process.”

Samantha made a final, valiant effort not to laugh at what Will clearly did not consider to be a humorous situation, but this time, a chuckle sputtered from her lips.

He looked at his shirtfront and then back at her, his twinkling chocolate-colored gaze mixing with hers. Her breath hitched.

“This is funny, isn’t it?”

“Well...yeah. Pretty much. Cute, too.”

“Cute?” He choked out the word, clearly appalled by the notion.

“I meant Genevieve,” she assured him, though in all honesty, Will, with his wet clothes and bath bubbles in his hair, was every bit as adorable as his little girl.

Which was precisely what Samantha suspected a man’s man like Will Davenport would not want to know about himself.

There was no doubt in Samantha’s mind that every unmarried woman in Serendipity—except for her, of course—was going to be doing all she could to catch Will’s eye. Will was going to have his work cut out for him.

“I came by to see if you and Genevieve might like to join me for a picnic in the park.” She lofted the picnic basket she carried in her left hand. “I’ve got ham, turkey, fresh rolls, some fruit and cheese. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I threw in a little bit of everything.”

He eyed the basket speculatively and then shook his head. “Thanks for the offer, but I think Genevieve might feel overwhelmed playing at a park with a bunch of kids she doesn’t know.”

“Is she normally shy around other children?”

He frowned. “I don’t know.”

“Well, then, there’s no harm in trying, is there? If she’s not enjoying herself, we can always bring her back home. But I suspect she may surprise you.”

He glanced behind him, as if remembering something important he had forgotten to do. “I’ve still got a lot to accomplish to get us settled in before I start work in the morning.”

She could hear the hesitation in his voice, but she couldn’t tell if it was because he felt a duty to get his things in order, or because he didn’t want to go with her and was searching for a polite way to decline her invitation.

“Oh, come on,” she urged. “You have to eat.”

“I’m hungry,” announced Genevieve.

Will’s gaze met Samantha’s and they both chuckled. He tapped the tip of his daughter’s nose. “Well, then, Monkey,” he said, reaching to take the picnic basket from Samantha, “I guess we’d better get you dressed so Miss Howell can take us to the park.”

* * *

Leaning on one elbow, Will stretched his legs out on the picnic blanket and popped a bit of a fresh whole-wheat roll into his mouth, savoring the way it melted on his tongue. The roll was perfectly baked, just the way he liked it—crispy outside and soft inside.

Samantha, Will was quickly learning, was a lot like the bread she’d brought—a little hard on the outside, at least upon first meeting, but a real softy inside.