The Soldier's Sweetheart (12 page)

“It’ll be all right, honey. I promise,” he whispered into her hair.

She tensed for a moment, and then she leaned back to look at him, her gaze softening, baring her vulnerability. He knew how difficult it was for her, admitting she needed someone—that she needed
him
.

Something about holding Samantha close to him strengthened his own resolve. No matter what, he would not let her be hurt.

Not by Stay-n-Shop.

And most especially not by him.

Chapter Nine

T
he Howells called a meeting of their own, a family council right there on their red-plaid picnic blanket on the green. The fireworks show had not yet started, and most of the folks around them were celebrating with their own kin. Genevieve had wandered over to where their neighbors Ben and Vee Bishop were lighting off fountains and Vee was watching over the girl, which was just as well because Genevieve didn’t need to see Samantha as worked up and angry as she was.

“We need a plan of action—
now,
” Samantha announced to her family. They were hovering, looking concerned even without knowing the whole story. She crouched in the middle of the circle like a quarterback in a huddle.

“The enemy has advanced,” Will murmured, a sarcastic bent to his tone.

“What do you mean? What changed?” her father asked.

“Apparently, Stay-n-Shop has already scheduled a meeting with the town council for next Friday night. Jo Spencer mentioned it. She seemed surprised that that was the first we’d heard of it.”

“Count on Jo to be the
very
first to know,” her mother murmured with a chuckle that sounded half like a hiccup. Samantha knew how hard it was for her mother to contain her emotions under this set of circumstances. Samantha was feeling the same things—confusion, anger, fear, pain.

“Their calling a meeting can only mean one thing,” Will ground out.

“They are proceeding forward with obtaining the zoning and permits necessary to build their store on that land they optioned,” Samantha finished. “I don’t think they’re targeting Sam’s Grocery anymore. At least not directly.”

“Pardon the cliché,” Grandpa Sampson offered, “but it sounds to me like we’ve just stepped out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

Adrenaline set every one of Samantha’s nerve endings alight. If it had come down to fight or flight, as it appeared to have, then they were most certainly going to fight.

“Let’s take it down to the bare truth of the matter,” Will suggested, his jaw clenched. “We need help. Lots of it.”

“What kind of help?” Samantha was disinclined to beg, even from the town council. Their family couldn’t afford a lawyer. Besides, Matthew MacPherson was the only practicing lawyer in Serendipity, and he specialized primarily in family law, not anything like this corporate fiasco.

Cal Turner had been right in that respect. This issue was way out of Matthew MacPherson’s sphere of expertise.

“We get our help from Serendipity itself,” Will answered simply. “The answer is right here.” He made a sweeping gesture across the green.

“What?” Samantha asked.

Will looked at her as if she was being dense and completely missing the point. Maybe she was. Or maybe she just didn’t want to hear it.

“If we’re going to fight this, we need to get Serendipity behind us. We need to prove that everyone supports Sam’s Grocery. Stay-n-Shop can’t battle the whole town. They’ll most certainly see the futility of their move and go bother someone else, somewhere else.”

“But what if they just go target a family like ours in another town?” Samantha asked.

Will’s gaze widened and then he shook his head. “You know I didn’t mean it that way. I wouldn’t wish Stay-n-Shop on my worst enemy.”

“Stay-n-Shop
is
my worst enemy,” she mumbled.

“
Our
worst enemy,” Will corrected, his gaze daring her to deny it. She glanced around at the rest of her family, who were all apparently in agreement with Will’s statement.

“So what exactly are you proposing we do?” Grandpa Sampson asked, his voice gruffer than usual, bringing everyone back to the heart of the topic.

“Let’s circulate a petition. Tonight. Right now, before folks get caught up in the big fireworks show. Once that gets cracking, we’re going to have a harder time keeping people’s attention.”

“And this petition would say...?” Samantha asked.

“Something like, ‘We, the undersigned, object to the building of Stay-n-Shop within Serendipity town limits.’ Then we can say a little about how everyone is supporting Sam’s Grocery.”

Samantha shook her head. This didn’t feel right. She couldn’t ask her friends and neighbors to put their necks out on the chopping block on her behalf. It wasn’t fair to them. “That’s putting people in quite a spot, don’t you think?”

“How do you mean?”

It was Samantha’s turn to gesture around the green. “I’ve known most of these folks all of my life.” She paused, pulling in a breath that audibly hitched in her throat. “And before you ask, I will tell you that most of these people
are
regular customers at Sam’s Grocery, and always have been.”

“I know. I’ve seen them around,” Will agreed. “They’re good, loyal customers to the core.”

“But maybe they wouldn’t be, given a choice.” Why was she the only one who could see it?

“What are you trying to say, Samantha?” her father demanded. He leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees.

“If we stick a petition in their faces, they’ll feel obligated to sign it, even if privately they might be interested in the variety and discount pricing a big-box store like Stay-n-Shop would offer. It’s hardly fair to make them choose between being a good neighbor and feeding their families. Besides, it’s not like we can expect anyone to sign a petition without first being given the opportunity to mull it over.”

“I disagree,” her mother said, slapping her palms against the plastic arms of her chair. “If folks wanted big-box stores, they wouldn’t live here in Serendipity. There is a difference between free enterprise and old-fashioned family values. We’re a small town with a nice country grocery. No one will want a change as big as Stay-n-Shop would bring.”

“Plus, time to mull things over is a luxury we don’t have,” her father added bluntly.

“Honestly, I don’t think the folks around here will need to give this much thought,” said Will, crossing his arms over his chest, which only served to make him look more muscular and solid than he already was. And more intimidating, if that’s what he was going for.

Samantha was unsettled by the thought of imposing herself on her neighbors by springing a petition on them at the Fourth of July celebration. But maybe it was the only way.

She looked at each member of her family, trying to decipher their gazes and identify their take on Will’s suggestion. Everyone was watching
her,
waiting with hopeful anticipation on their faces.

Suddenly she understood. They were waiting for her to call the next play. Talk about pressure. Especially from Will, who’d come up with the idea in the first place. Didn’t he realize he was pushing his agenda on her when she wasn’t yet prepared to accept it?

In Will’s defense, this quick tactic was in response to the fact that they
were
out of time.

She sighed. “Where are we going to find some blank sheets of paper?”

“Give me a minute,” her mother said. “I think I have a few sheets of crafting paper in the trunk of my car.” Her brow lowered and she pursed her lips. “I’m afraid it might be pink. I was working on a shower present for Ben and Vee’s baby girl.”

“Never mind the color,” her father insisted with a dismissing wave of his arm. “This is an emergency. Let’s go, go, go.”

Her mother caught Samantha’s gaze and rolled her eyes before heading off to her car. “Pink paper isn’t going to look very professional,” Samantha felt inclined to point out.

“Neither is the fact that we’re handwriting the petition. We’ll be okay, as long as it’s legal. And even if it isn’t, pages full of names protesting Stay-n-Shop should count for something,” Will replied, tunneling his fingers through his hair. He looked like he was ready for action, ready to take on the world for Sam’s Grocery. For
her
. Seeing him like that made her stomach do a little flip.

When Samantha’s mother returned, she had several sheets of paper, which were, to Samantha’s dismay, baby-shower pink.

“Let’s make several copies of our petition, and then we can each canvass a different area of the green. That way we can get as many signatures as possible in the shortest time possible,” Will suggested, his voice strong and level, and that of a man used to leading. “I’m sure folks will have a lot of questions, but we have to do the best we can and move quickly.”

Samantha still wasn’t sold on the idea, but in the end, she took the sheet of paper assigned to her and started her way around the outside of the green. She and Will were working clockwise, while her mother and father were moving counterclockwise, one member of the team on the outside of the green, and the other canvassing the middle. Grandpa Sampson had been charged with staying put to keep an eye on Genevieve.

Samantha approached Zach and Delia Bowden, who were picnicking with their three children. She took a deep breath, kneeling next to Delia, before plunging in. She was fully aware that her pride was standing in the way of godly humility, but she couldn’t seem to get past it. She wasn’t one to put out her hand for charity, even when she needed it—as she did now.

“What are you selling?” Zach teased when he spotted the paper and pen in her hand. He cradled their sleeping six-month-old baby, Faith, against his shoulder, while his two-year-old son toddled around on the grass. “Candles? Cookies? You’ve caught us too late for candy. We’ve just had dessert.” With his free hand, he patted his lean midsection.

Samantha blanched. Was she that transparent? She wasn’t certain she could get a single word out. Not about Stay-n-Shop, or any other subject, for that matter.

Zach’s words kept echoing through her head.

What are you selling? What are you selling?

What choice did she have? If she stayed on the road she was currently going down, what she’d be
selling
was Sam’s Grocery.

Delia, a longtime friend, put her arm around Samantha’s shoulders. “Don’t mind Zach. He’s just being a goof.”

“I—I,” Samantha stuttered, and then coughed. “Need your help.”

“You’ve got it,” Zach stated, before she’d even said a word to explain what it was that she needed.

“Don’t you want to hear what I’ve got to say before you commit yourselves?”

“Sure. You tell us what it is you’re asking,” Zach said with a mischievous grin. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re going to do anything in our power to help you out. Whatever you need. Just name it.”

Samantha gave a shortened version of the facts—Stay-n-Shop’s plan to build, their option on the land, the town council meeting. She didn’t see the need to mention the pressure she’d been receiving from the corporation, or the threats.

“We’re circulating a petition requesting that the town council rule for Stay-n-Shop to take their business elsewhere. Of course, there are benefits intrinsic in a big-box store, especially for a large family like yours—”

Zach chuckled. “Are you trying to talk us out of signing?”

“Zach!” Delia reprimanded, reaching for the petition and the pen. “Don’t give Samantha a hard time right now.”

“Just teasing,” Zach said, taking the petition from his wife and adding his own name to it. “You know I’m just ribbing you, right, Samantha?”

Samantha nodded and smiled in gratitude. “Thank you. This means more to me than I can say. And to my family, as well.”

“You don’t have to thank us,” Delia responded. “We love Sam’s Grocery. We would never dream of shopping anywhere else. And neither will any of your other customers. Trust me on this one, Samantha. You have nothing to worry about.”

“We’re all behind you one hundred percent,” Zach added, gently rocking his sleeping baby. “Delia’s right. You have nothing to fear. The town council will back you one hundred percent.”

“I certainly hope so,” Samantha agreed. She thanked them again and moved on to the next family. Maybe the Bowdens were right. Maybe all her apprehension was for nothing.

She could only hope and pray that was so.

She moved on. The next family she encountered was Chance and Phoebe Hawkins, along with Frank and Jo Spencer.

Even though it had been Jo who’d brought the council meeting to her attention, she was a little nervous approaching the Spencers. After all, Frank presided over the town council that would ultimately decide the fate of the store.

But Frank was surprisingly gracious, especially considering how gruff the old man usually appeared. He recused himself from signing the petition, of course, but wished her the best.

Frank’s courtesy gave Samantha confidence to approach others on the side of the circle she’d been assigned. With each family she encountered, her spirits rose. Everyone she spoke with signed her petition and encouraged her in the endeavor. She’d been afraid she would be pressing folks to sign a petition before they were sure what they were signing, but it quickly became evident that the community not only wanted to support the store, but more importantly, wanted to champion Samantha and her family.

“How’d it go?” Will asked when they met back at their picnic site. They sat down side by side on the blanket to compare notes. Genevieve ran up and sat down on Will’s lap with a squeal of pleasure.

Samantha was flushed with excitement as she displayed her hastily prepared petition. “They all signed it,” she said in grateful amazement. “Every one of them. I can’t believe it.”

“I can,” he said, showing her his own page, also brimming with signatures. “These people care about the grocery.” He leaned back on his hands so his mouth was close to her ear. “And you.”

A ripple of pleasure went through her. Somehow she had the impression he was speaking of more than the community’s support.

“The fireworks should be starting soon,” she said, observing the twilight sky. She glanced down just in time to see a dark expression flit across Will’s face.

“Will? What is it?” she asked softly.

“Huh? It’s nothing,” he denied.

She scooted closer to him so they wouldn’t be overheard. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but there’s clearly something wrong. I’m a good listener.”

He sighed. “I know you are. I just don’t like to talk about it.”