“So, when are the boys coming?”
“I don’t know. These things take time.”
“But why? They’re orphans, alone in the world. You love them. They should just get on an airplane and come.” She dragged out the chair beside him and sat down, turning to prop a fist on her beautiful cheekbone.
His pulse, already misbehaving, skittered dangerously.
Eric looked around and realized that the kids had moved away. A clutch of girls shot sly glances at him. One giggled when he caught her staring.
What was that all about?
Bewildered, he returned his attention to Sam’s question. “If all goes well, I’m shooting for Christmas.”
“Nothing will go wrong. You’ll get them. You and the boys are going to have the best Christmas ever.”
He wanted that with all his heart. Nothing could go wrong. He’d promised their father to care for them. He loved them. They loved him. Everything would work out. It had to.
“You’ll be a wonderful father, Eric.” Sam spontaneously pressed a hand over the top of his. Little jolts of electricity shot all the way up to his shoulder. “I saw you with them. You already are.”
Eric tried to remember why Sam Harcourt turned him cold, but with her sweet eyes looking at him this way and their hands touching, his mind was blitzed.
“Hey, you two. Any chance we can have a meeting tonight? Or is this a private party?” Caleb Williams ambled toward them, his wife Anne at his side. Their smiles had Eric wondering. Did they think there was something going on between him and Sam?
Man, were they ever confused.
“Time to get started, I guess.” By sheer force of will he got up and moved to the head of the table, leaving Sam where she was. Instantly, his vacant chair was filled by one of the girls and the chitchat began about Nikki’s haircut. Should she get a skunk stripe or not?
Eric was hard-pressed not to laugh but he noticed Sam took the question with complete seriousness.
He called the meeting to order and was pleased that the kids had followed through with their assignments. Very quickly, he collected price lists, tentative work schedules, booth ideas and a host of other details the kids had come up with on their own.
“We’ll need a full workday before the picnic,” he said. “To set up booths, put up signs, decorate.”
“What about the day before?”
“Can’t,” he said. “My calendar is full. I have to work.”
“I don’t,” Sam said. “The kids and I can handle it.”
With school still weeks away, most of the kids were at loose ends. So was Sam. Eric’s lip curled. She was on hiatus, a word the rest of the world barely understood.
“All right. Sounds good to me. I’ll leave the particulars up to you.”
Gina, usually quiet as a mouse, piped up. “Maybe the two of you should get together that night and go over everything. I mean, Eric can’t be there Friday. Sam needs to fill him in on the plans.”
“Great idea,” Nikki added. “Don’t you think, guys?” She gave the other teens a look that said they’d better agree and do it fast.
“Yeah. Sure. Eric, you don’t want to be in the dark. No telling what we might do without your input. You can’t trust a bunch of teenagers, you know. You and Sam should definitely get together that last Friday night before the picnic.”
Why were the kids behaving so strangely? He glanced at Sam, saw a flush on the crest of her cheekbones. He looked at Caleb and then at Anne. They both grinned like African hyenas.
What was up with this?
“All right. Sure. Whatever.” He looked at Sam. “Is that okay with you?”
She nodded mutely, an unusual turn of events, and Eric adjourned the meeting to the dining room.
As he pushed back from the table, Caleb came toward him, that annoying grin still on his face. “Might as well give up.”
“What are you talking about?” All these undercurrents were making him grumpy.
“The kids. They did it to Anne and me.”
Eric got a bad feeling. “Did what?”
“Played matchmaker.”
“And?”
“And now they have their sights set on you and Sam.”
“Me? Sam?” His blood pressure shot up. “You’re losing it, brother.”
At Caleb’s soft chuckle, Eric’s belly went south. He was having enough trouble with his own head on the subject of Samantha Harcourt. If this bunch of teenagers started in, he’d have no peace at all. Samantha was not the kind of woman he wanted to be interested in. Women like her aimed for the kneecaps and left you alone and bleeding.
At the sound of giggling, Eric glanced toward the dining-room doorway. Three pairs of teenaged eyes gleamed at him with speculation.
He was in trouble here. Serious trouble.
Chapter Four
Sam gazed around at the group of kids once again gathered in the Youth Center. They worked in small groups, sipping Cokes and munching on the tray of melon she had provided. A few lettered signs and glittered banners while others organized lists of volunteers and donations for the various booths. They were a good team with minimal arguments. Although a few heated discussions had cropped up in their days of working together, the problems were easily resolved.
Thank goodness this was one of the last committee meetings before the picnic. Not that she didn’t like the kids or enjoy the work. It wasn’t that at all. In fact, she’d taken on the task of helping Andrew Noble with some of the advance publicity for the event and found a certain satisfaction in both tasks. If her agent would stop calling every hour she’d almost be content.
The problem with the youth group was Eric. Or rather, the teens’ matchmaking attempts between Eric and her. Just when he’d begun to warm up a little, the kids had come up with this ridiculously obvious scheme and made them both uncomfortable.
From her spot next to Gina, she slid a look in Eric’s direction. He, Caleb, Jeremy and a couple of the other boys hammered together the wooden frame for the concession booth.
The muscles in his athletic shoulders flexed with each hammer strike, reminding her of that day in Africa. Even in ordinary jeans and a yellow T-shirt that darkened his skin to bronze, Eric was by far the best-looking guy in Chestnut Grove. At least from her viewpoint.
He was nothing like most men of her acquaintance, but that was a good thing. Deep inside, Sam remained a small-town girl who admired a man with the common sense to change his own tires and wield a hammer. A man’s man. Masculine, strong, steady.
Gina’s voice interrupted her ruminations. “He’s cute for an older guy.”
Great, she’d been caught staring. “When are all of you going to give this up? Neither Eric nor I are interested.”
“Really?” Nikki asked, popping a square of juicy watermelon past her black-lined lips. She clearly didn’t believe Sam’s protest.
“Really. Now can we talk about something else?”
“Well, we do have another idea,” Gina said.
“Oh, good.” Sam rolled her eyes heavenward. “Now I’m really worried.”
“We want to know how you keep in shape.”