In Search of Sam (11 page)

It's been three months
since the last time I visited Farrow, so when Reed invites me to check out progress with the distribution centre, I jump at the chance to go back. I can't believe changes have begun already.

“Woo-hoo!” I exclaim as he swings the BMW into the highway turnoff lane that didn't exist back in March. “Farrow's big-time now. It has it's own turnoff lane and everything. And look at the sign. It's huge! And it's new, and not hand-painted.
Welcome to Farrow: Population (Growing too fast to count)
.
” I laugh. “That's too funny. And look there, Reed. Another sign announcing the new distribution facility.” I shoot him a surprised look. “Is it really going to be operational by next spring? That's less than a year away.”

He waves his hand uncertainly. “Give or take. Knowing how there are always delays, I think summer is a safer bet, but we are trying to hype things up so the residents of Farrow have something to look forward to. We've already started interviewing for jobs.”

“How many people are you looking to hire?”

“Initially, probably about one hundred and fifty, but that could easily double down the line.”

“Seriously?
Whoa
! That's a lot —” but I'm sidetracked as we turn onto the road leading into Farrow, because gone is the narrow, rutted gravel track, replaced by four lanes of pavement. “
Holy cow!
You didn't tell me there are roads already!”

“So far this one leading off the highway is the only one that's finished. The others are still under construction. You'll see as we get into town.”

“Have you started building the distribution centre yet?”

“The plans are drawn up and surveying is complete. There are lots of pegs and spray-painted lines. It's just a matter of letting the bulldozers loose, but we want to wait until the roads are finished before we bring in the heavy equipment.”

I hug myself. I can't stop grinning. “This is actually happening, Reed. I can't believe it.”

“Well, if anyone should believe it, it's you, because you're the one who set the wheels in motion.”

I open my mouth with every intention of modestly protesting, but what comes out is far from modest. “Yeah, I guess I sort of did, didn't I?” I grin.

Reed laughs. “You certainly did. Your mother and I are unbelievably proud of you. I'm sure Sam is too. You set out to find your roots — and you did. Then you set out to save Farrow — and you did that too. You are definitely a lady to be reckoned with. Looks like I got two of those for the price of one.”

We turn onto Main Street, and to my amazement it looks different too. Oh, sure, there are still a lot of boarded-up storefronts, but now there are a lot more that aren't. New painted exteriors, eye-catching signs, and sparkling windows winking in the sunlight make me catch my breath. Reed has slowed right down, but even so my head is on a swivel as I try to take everything in. One building has gone from wooden siding to a red brick facade. A display card in the window identifies it as the future home of a postal outlet. Across the street is a restaurant, and next to that a sandwich shop. Both are filled with construction workers. The next sign to catch my attention is The Exquisite Artisan. It is a shop featuring work by local artists. Arlo has clearly been getting the guild operational. There's a grocery store and drugstore too —
already
. In the distance, I can see the service station once again has an operational gas pump. It's all so amazing, I am speechless.

Finally Reed pulls up in front of a barnboard storefront and turns off the car. I look at the building. There are several rusty horseshoes hung above the door and assorted bottles, kettles, spurs, harnesses, and other cowboy memorabilia on display in the windows. The printing on the sign has been branded on. I read it.
Sam's Place — Come and sit a spell
.
I instantly choke up.

Reed squeezes my neck. “Come on. Let's go inside.”

I let myself onto the street and swipe away my tears before Reed can see. He comes around the car, opens the door to the shop, and waves me inside.

And I melt — my bones, my heart, every molecule of me.

The place is amazing. It
could be
Sam's place. This is probably the coziest room I have ever been in. The walls are whitewashed and trimmed with wooden beams. The floors are barnboard, and there's a pot-bellied stove smack in the middle, amid oak and pine tables and chairs and leather easy chairs, rustic loveseats, and even a couple of ottomans. The walls are lined with shelves, and the shelves are filled with books and memorabilia — mostly cowboy and baseball stuff. Western music plays in the background. Only someone who knew Sam could have put this together. I blink back my tears and look up at Reed. “Mom?” I say.

He shrugs. “She might have had something to do with it.”

At the back of the space is a bar, the kind you find in saloons, complete with the brass foot rail. A sign overhead says,
Help yourself to a coffee and muffin, a book, and a chair. Donations gratefully accepted. Proceeds help those in need
.

And then, through blurred eyes, I see them — my three amigos — Alex, George, and Arlo. They're standing behind the bar, grinning.

I totally lose it. “Oh, you guys,” I blubber, “this is awe … awesome!
You guys
are awesome. Thank you for this. It's wonderful. Sam would be so happy.”

Now I'm crying so hard, the tears are flowing down my face like a river. Reed hugs me, and then Alex, George, and Arlo are hugging me too.

“You're the one who's awesome,” Alex says. “You cared enough to try to save Farrow. You believed in it and us, and you found a way to make things happen.”

“Like I told you before, Dani,” Arlo grins, “the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You're definitely your father's daughter.”

“Hmmph,” George mutters, straight-faced. “I suppose she's all right.” When everyone pulls back to gawk at her, she shrugs, but her eyes are twinkling. “Well, the girl might have Sam's big heart, but she doesn't have his curls or his piercing black eyes, now does she? And that's the truth, or my name isn't George Washington.”

Truths I Learned from Sam

Dani's mother is getting married — again — because that's what she does, and while she and her new husband jet around Europe for six weeks, seventeen-year-old Dani is sent to stay with an uncle she didn't know she had in a small community in Cariboo country she didn't know existed. It promises to be the summer from hell. But Dani's uncle turns out to be an okay guy. In fact, Dani really likes him. And she finds romance, too.

Suddenly, a summer that had doom written all over it turns into one of the best times of Dani's life. Until the bottom falls out. In a story about relationships and about how bad things happen to good people, Dani discovers that sometimes the only villain is life itself.

“The heart of the novel is Dani's relationship with Sam. Butcher handles the pair's growing bond gently and convincingly, while showing compassion and understanding for her teenage protagonist.”

—
Quill and Quire

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Copyright © Kristin Butcher, 2015

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise (except for brief passages for purposes of review) without the prior permission of Dundurn Press. Permission to photocopy should be requested from Access Copyright.

All characters in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Editor: Allister Thompson

Cover Design: Sarah Beaudin

Design: Courtney Horner and Martin Gould

Cover Image: Richard Aparicio

Epub Design: Carmen Giraudy

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Butcher, Kristin, author

In search of Sam / Kristin Butcher.

Issued in print and electronic formats.

ISBN 978-1-4597-2960-5 (pbk.).--ISBN 978-1-4597-2961-2

(pdf).--ISBN 978-1-4597-2962-9 (epub)

I. Title.

PS8553.U6972I52 2015 jC813'.54 C2014-906766-6 C2014-906767-4

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