Chapter Nine: Samantha

"Breakfast is ready!" Samantha called out from the doorway of Henry's cabin, her voice carrying across the backyard to where Tilly and Lewis were giggling and whispering together as they watched wild rabbits dart through the grass—this was the kind of childhood she wanted for them. Free. Unburdened.

She wrapped her arms around her body and sighed in pure contentment. The disastrous events of yesterday were like a distant memory as pancakes sizzled invitingly on the griddle, the aroma mingling with the rich scent of fresh coffee. A pitcher of orange juice sat on the table, catching the morning light in a way that made it look almost golden. She glanced around, feeling an overwhelming sense of belonging here, wishing this idyllic scene could be their new everyday life.

"Come on, you two! Breakfast's getting cold!" she hollered again, louder this time, her mouthwatering at the thought of warm fluffy pancakes smothered in maple syrup. Henry's kitchen was well stocked, and she had taken him up on the offer to treat the cabin like their home while they were here. But she would make a careful note of everything they used and replace them when it was time to leave.

She also made a mental note to offer him payment for the use of his cabin and the utilities. There was no way she was going to accept living here without paying the bills.

"I'm starving!" Tilly announced as she reached the kitchen with Lewis close on her heels. Her face was flushed from the crisp morning air, her eyes bright with excitement. "Mom, you won't believe what we saw! There were these tiny baby rabbits, and they were so cute!"

Lewis chimed in, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Yeah, and one of them came really close to us! I thought it was going to hop right onto my shoe!" Lewis exclaimed, pointing down at his sneakers.

Samantha giggled at the image her son had created in her head. "You must have worked up quite an appetite. Why don't you go and wash your hands, and then we can eat." Samantha nodded toward the sink while she took a seat at the table and sipped her coffee.

Tilly zipped to the sink, scrubbing quickly, while Lewis gave his hands a perfunctory rinse before reaching for a towel.

"Properly, Lewis," she reminded him, raising an eyebrow. He sighed dramatically but complied, rubbing his hands together under the stream of water until Samantha nodded approvingly.

They settled at the table, Lewis squirming in his seat as Tilly reached for the syrup to pour over the pancakes on her plate. "We saw so many rabbits, Mom! One of them had tiny babies, I think, they were so cute."

"Yeah, and there was this huge one that looked right at me like it knew me or something," added Lewis, his face lighting up as he spoke. "Do you think we might make friends with them like the children in The Secret Garden ?"

"You've been telling Lewis about the book?" Samantha asked as she helped Lewis with his pancakes and then added two to her plate, before pouring syrup on them and Lewis's. Her son had a habit of ending up with sticky fingers, sticky clothes, and sticky everything he touched if he poured it himself.

"I did," Tilly said. "While we were making plans for the treehouse last night."

"I want to live in a secret garden," Lewis said as he forked up his pancakes.

"If we lived in a place like this, we could make the grove with the big oak tree our secret garden, with a secret treehouse," Tilly said wistfully.

"Well, when the house is repaired, we can make a secret garden there," Samantha said. "I'm sure there are all kinds of creatures living around the town, too."

"I guess," Lewis said, unconvinced.

She smiled at her son. His moods changed like the wind, but he rarely stayed glum for long. "You know, Lewis, even in town, there are plenty of secret spots to discover. We just have to keep our eyes open."

"Really?" Lewis perked up, syrup dripping from his chin.

"Absolutely," she said absently as a sudden shiver ran down her spine. Her senses sharpened, every nerve ending suddenly alert, while the hairs on her arm stood on end.

"Mom, are you okay?" Tilly asked, noticing the change in her mother's demeanor.

"Yes, Tilly," Samantha replied, forcing a smile. But inside, she was anything but calm. She knew what this feeling meant. Henry was approaching.

It was as if every sense she had was reaching out, seeking him. But it was the sound that caught her attention—the distinct crunch of his boot on a stone outside. How did she already know the sound of his footsteps?

She straightened up, gripping the mug tightly, resisting the overwhelming urge to go to the door and catch her first glimpse of him. Her eyes flickered to the window but quickly snapped back to the table, focusing on Tilly's animated face instead.

"Mom? Did you hear what I said?" Tilly asked, her little brow furrowing in concern.

"Sorry," Samantha replied. "What were you saying?"

"That we wanted to ask Henry to show us where the deer come to drink! He knows so much about the mountains. He must know where we can find the deer."

"Yeah, he's like a mountain superhero," Lewis added, clearly impressed by their host.

Samantha forced a smile, but her thoughts about Henry Thornberg had nothing to do with him being a mountain superhero. Why did he make her feel this way? Yesterday, she'd put it down to the fact that he'd saved them, offering them refuge after their house was damaged in the storm. His kindness and the safety of his cabin had been a godsend. But today? Today, there was no immediate crisis, no adrenaline to explain away her reaction.

She was a grown woman, competent and levelheaded, not usually swept away by romantic notions. She should have gotten over it after a good night's sleep. Yet here she was, feeling the same inexplicable pull. There was something about him—something steady and strong, yet wild and untamed—that stirred her in ways she hadn't felt in years.

"Mom, why is your face red?" Lewis asked as he gulped orange juice.

"Is it?" She pressed her hands to her cheeks, feeling the heat on her palms.

"It's because she was cooking the pancakes over the stove," Tilly chimed in, unknowingly coming to her rescue.

"Yes, that's it," Samantha said, trying to deflect. Of course, it was the heat from the stove, not from the smoldering hot man whose house they were living in!

As she waited for Henry's impending arrival, she couldn't stop the sense of anticipation that tightened her chest. There was no getting over Henry Thornberg, and deep down, she knew it.

"Knock, knock," Henry called from the porch steps, making Samantha's heart thump so hard she was sure everyone in the room could hear it.

Hell, even Henry might hear it from outside the cabin.

"Henry!" Lewis was out of his seat and running for the door. "Do you know where the deer go to drink?"

"Well, good morning to you, Henry. Morning, everyone," came his deep, gravelly voice, sending another shiver down her spine.

"Good morning, Henry," she managed to say, turning to meet his gaze. His eyes, a mesmerizing shade of brown, locked onto hers for an endless moment, and the heat in her cheeks flared.

"Coffee?" She got up from her chair and went to the coffeepot to hide her embarrassment. "Lewis, go sit down and eat. It's not polite to ambush guests on the doorstep."

"Henry's not a guest. This is his house," Lewis said as he slid back into his chair.

"This is your house while you are here," Henry said. "So, your mom is right. I am a guest."

"So, do you know where the deer drink?" Tilly asked, expertly guiding them around a debate about Henry's status in the cabin.

"I do," he said. "There's a stream just above the ranch. They go there to drink in the evening."

"Can we go see them?" Tilly asked. "Please?"

"Sure, but you have to be quiet, or you'll spook them."

All eyes turned to Lewis.

"I can be quiet," he whispered loudly.

"How do you take your coffee?" Samantha asked with a wide smile. The talk about deer had helped calm her nerves, and the heat seemed to have faded from her face.

"Just black, thanks," Henry replied, his smile both soothing and unsettling.

Samantha poured the coffee carefully, her hands surprisingly steady given the erratic pace of her heart. She handed him the steaming mug, their fingers brushing ever so briefly. The touch sent a jolt through her, but she pretended not to notice.

"Thanks." Henry took the mug. "Did you sleep well?"

Was this man determined to make her blush again?

"I did," she said and reached for her coffee cup. She needed a refill.

"Here, let me." Henry stepped closer and reached across the table. His broad chest was inches from her shoulder and her breath caught in her throat.

"Thanks," she squeaked as he handed it to her, and swung around on her heel to hide her face again.

"I thought we could walk over to the barn and I can show you where your stuff is," Henry was saying, when Samantha's brain finally caught up with the words he was speaking, wrestling her thoughts away from the heat that lingered after their brief contact.

"That sounds great," Samantha said, recovering her composure.

"The good news is that the guys managed to grab some of your things from upstairs and have piled them in the living room downstairs. It should be safe there until we can arrange to get it moved." Henry sipped his coffee. "This is good."

"You sound surprised," Samantha said. "But it's your coffee. I couldn't find mine this morning. I hope you don't mind."

"What's mine is yours," he said with a flash of a smile. "And anyway, you make it better than me."

Damn, this man knew exactly what to say to make her feel good about herself. She suspected he could charm the birds from the trees and the bees from the honey.

Was that his thing ?

Was this how he interacted with everyone—effortless charm disarming anyone in his path?

Was it just her imagination that there was something genuinely special about the way he looked at her, spoke to her?

But the way he said we made her feel as if they were something to each other.

And the way she sometimes caught him looking at her made her believe they might be everything to each other if she gave him a chance.

"Mom," Tilly's voice pulled Samantha out of her musings on Henry rather abruptly.

"Yes."

"Your phone is ringing."

Tilly gestured toward the living room, where Samantha had left her phone on the coffee table. She had savored a peaceful cup of coffee while gazing out the window at the majestic mountains before the children woke up and the day began. It had been utter bliss.

"My phone." Samantha placed her coffee cup down on the counter and hurried from the room. She grabbed the phone from the coffee table. It was Mabel calling. The idea that Mabel might have found them somewhere else to live made her stomach lurch. They had just gotten settled and the thought of tearing the children away from the ranch would be a wrench. But this was Henry's home and so if Mabel had found somewhere else for them to live, she'd have to go with it.

"Hello, Mabel," Samantha answered, trying to keep her tone steady.

"Good morning, Samantha. How are things?" Mabel's voice was always warm and reassuring. Yet this morning there seemed to be an edge to it.

Samantha took a deep breath, bracing herself. "Things are good. How about you?"

"I know you are probably busy, but I wondered if you could spare some time and meet me at the house," Mabel said.

"Sure. When?" Samantha asked with a glance toward the kitchen where Henry was talking to the children about deer and other wildlife they might spot on the ranch.

"Half an hour?" Mabel asked.

"Sure." Samantha would rather hear what Mabel had to say sooner rather than later, but getting the kids fed, dressed, and in the car in the next fifteen minutes so they could get to town on time was going to be an extraordinary feat. "I'll see you then."

"Thanks, Samantha." Mabel ended the call and Samantha wrapped her arms around her body and stared out of the window for a moment before she turned and headed back to the kitchen.

"Henry said he'll look at our treehouse plans later and that his brother, Levi, is going to help us build it," Tilly said.

"His mate's son…" Henry stalled. "His partner's son, Elliot, would love to meet Lewis and Tilly and help with the build."

"That sounds like fun," Samantha said as she went to the counter, picked up her coffee cup, and took a slug. "But right now, I have to go into town and meet Mabel."

"Was that Mabel on the phone?" Henry asked.

"It was." Her mouth turned down at the corners for a moment before she clasped her hands and said, "So, I need you both to go and get dressed and be ready to leave in ten minutes."

"Ten minutes," Lewis complained as he slouched off his chair and headed for the stairs.

"But we can look at the plans for the treehouse later." Tilly forked up the last of her pancakes and shoved them into her mouth.

"I'm sure we can," Samantha replied as her daughter headed for the door.

"Wait, do you think Mabel has found somewhere else for us to live?" Tilly asked after she swallowed down her pancakes.

"I don't know. She didn't want to talk over the phone. Which is why I need you to go and get dressed," Samantha said, making a shooing action.

"I don't want to stay anywhere but here," Tilly said, taking on Lewis's mutinous tone.

"I know, but this is Henry's house," Samantha reminded her daughter. "So, if Mabel has found us somewhere else to stay, then we need to give Henry his house back."

"But Henry said we could stay here as long as we needed," Tilly protested.

"Why don't you get dressed and then we can go and hear what Mabel has to say, and then we can discuss our options," Samantha said, circumventing a heated debate, which would be a waste of time and energy when they had no clue what Mabel wanted.

But Samantha was in total agreement with her daughter. This was where she wanted to stay.

And when she finally met Henry's level gaze, she was sure this was exactly where he wanted them to be, too.