Proxy Bride (The Lindstroms Book 1) Page 3

  “Are you okay?”

  He wished he knew her better so he’d best know how to help her, what to say to comfort her. Holding her hands in his, he tried to rub the warmth back into them. She was crying now, sobbing in a heartbreaking way that made Sam feel even more helpless.

  “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he said, squatting beside her, still holding her hands in his.

  She shook her head back and forth, as much from shivering as in answer to his question. He gently let go of her hands and shrugged out of his heavy coat in one smooth movement, leaning back down to drape it clumsily across her chest and lap.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “I—I couldn’t stop.”

  “I know. It was black ice.” He patted her shoulder. “You spun out. Did you see it?”

  She breathed in deeply, shakily, her sobs finally subsiding.

  “N-No. I d-didn’t know what happened.” She sniffled, looking at Sam to her left and wiping tears off her cheeks with her palms. She took another ragged breath, then sighed loudly, leaning her head back against the headrest and closing her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? You didn’t…die. I mean, you—you didn’t hurt anyone. There’s nothing to be sorry for!”

  Jenny stared at his face for a moment and then crumpled, shoulders shaking all over again.

  Nice job, Sam. Way to be a comfort. Mentioning death. Yep. Terrific work.

  He reached out to stroke her arm and realized with a start that the noises she was making didn’t sound exactly like crying. Hold on. It sounded like a cross between crying and…laughing? Yeah. She was…laughing. And crying, of course, but laughing. Too.

  “I meant—I meant the way I treated you at the courthouse,” she clarified. “That’s what I was thinking about right before my car—”

  “Oh!” Sam’s forehead wrinkled. She almost had an accident, and that’s what she’s concerned about? Being snippy at the courthouse? Hmm. Could she have a concussion? He spoke slowly and carefully, patting her shoulder. “That’s okay. Don’t worry about that now.”

  “I was awful.”

  “I was late.”

  “I was unforgiving.”

  “I shouldn’t have called you names.”

  “Maybe I deserved it,” she said, sighing softly.

  “You know what, Jenny?” he suggested. “We’ll take a mulligan, okay?”

  “A-A mulligan?”

  Sam nodded. “In golf. If your first shot stinks, you’re allowed to take a second shot. A second chance. It’s called a mulligan.”

  “A mulligan.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. That’s good. I’d like a mulligan.”

  “You got it. Fresh start.” He stood up and stared down at her. “Are you okay? Did you hit your head at all? Did you—”

  “No.” She sat up a little straighter and clicked the seat belt to finally release it, rubbing a spot on her chest where it must have pressed hard into her skin. “No. I’m okay. I didn’t hurt myself. The airbag didn’t even…I’m fine, Sam. Just a little—”

  “Shaken up.” He offered her a sympathetic smile.

  She nodded, and tears filled her eyes again as she bit her lower lip. “You’re being very kind, and I was so terrible…”

  “Jenny. I was an hour late. We missed the appointment, and the weather got worse. You had a right to be upset, okay?” His face softened. “Anyway, we’re taking a mulligan, remember?” Suddenly, his fear for her came out in a rush. “I was worried. It happened so fast. You could have—” He paused. “You were lucky.”

  Jenny swiped a tear rolling down her cheek and nodded again.

  Sam leaned closer to the car and took her hand from her cheek. It wasn’t as tense now. Almost pliant, but still cold, he rubbed it between his until he realized she was trying to gently but firmly pull it away. The blotchiness on her face was deepening to an even pink.

  She swallowed, pushing his coat away. “Let me give you back your—”

  “Are you sure? It’s warm.”

  “It is. Thank you for it. But I have my own. In the back.”

  Moving quickly, Sam opened her back door and grabbed the parka from the floor where it lay tossed and crumpled.

  “Easy now,” he reminded her as she stood up. “You could be in shock. Maybe we should have your car towed, and I’ll drive us both back to Gardiner.”

  “No. I’m okay, Sam.” She spoke clearly and decisively but softened her delivery with a smile, then stepped into the coat as he held it for her. She zipped it up and pulled the hood over her head. The white fur framed her face, and her eyes were even bluer after crying. “I’ve spun out before. Lots of times. I don’t know why it got me so upset this time.”

  “Hey, it’s pretty upsetting to lose control like that. You’re entitled to some nerves. You think you’re okay to drive?”

  Jenny nodded. “I do. Truly.”

  “Sure?”

  She gave him a small smile and nodded.

  “Okay, then. We’ll take it slow.” Sam turned, heading to his car.

  “Sam?”

  He faced her, eyebrows raised.

  “I’m grateful to you,” she whispered, her face soft and vulnerable, her eyes earnest.

  He smiled at her again before returning to his car.

  ***

  It took Jenny a few turns to get her car pointed back in the right direction. Back on the interstate, she took it easy, driving slower than she normally would.

  She was shaken up.

  She couldn’t remember the moment she had lost control of her car, but she had let up on the gas and remembered not to slam on the brakes as soon as she realized that the car wasn’t responding. Mostly she just held onto the steering wheel with an iron grip so that regardless of what the car was doing, she wouldn’t make it worse by jerking the wheel.

  Her heart was finally slowing down, and her breathing was returning to normal, but the adrenaline rush left her eyes heavy and thick, and she rolled down her window, thankful for the bracing gust of cold air against her burning cheeks.

  Jenny had been in several spinouts in her life. No one could live her whole life in Montana and not hit a patch of black ice now and then, but truth be told, she hadn’t had an accident in several years—certainly not since her mother’s death. The thought of her father and brothers having to face her loss after suffering so brutally through the loss of her mother made her wince. Stinging tears sprang back up, unwanted, in her eyes.

  No more crying, Jenny. Nothing happened. You’re fine.

  She looked in her rearview mirror and was comforted to see Sam following behind.

  He probably thought she was a crazy woman: crying, then laughing, then apologizing for her behavior at the courthouse, all while clutching onto his coat on the side of the road.

  But, Lord, she couldn’t let him think she was the snippy, acidic person he thought she was, and apologizing seemed more important than anything else in that moment.

  The sound of his rumbling baritone saying her name had imprinted itself on her brain, and she listened for his voice in her head, savoring its warm concern. He had spoken to her so gently, his brown eyes so earnest and solicitous of her. Holding her hands. Giving her his coat. Giving her a mulligan. I was worried.

  Jenny shook her head, ashamed of herself. She had misjudged Sam from the start.

  She promised not to make that mistake again.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the Lone Wolf Lodge, Jenny idled for a moment as Sam parked his car and walked the short distance over to her. She rolled down her window.

  “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. I was just a little shaken up is all. My car’s fine. I’m fine. Really.” She kept her voice as polite and controlled as possible, offering him a poised smile. Certainly he had had enough of her hysterics for one afternoon. “Thanks for everything, Sam.”

  “No problem.” He cocked his head to the side. “Do you want to call me after you walk Casey? When you’re ready f
or dinner?”

  “Sure,” she said, handing him her phone. “Put your number in here.”

  He pressed in the digits, then hooked a thumb toward the motel office, swinging his bag onto his shoulder with masculine ease. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

  “Sounds good.”

  She rolled up the window and pulled out of the parking lot, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she watched him amble away.

  Sam. She had a quick flashback to Sam’s concerned brown eyes, to the way his hand circled her wrist to pry it off the steering wheel. A shiver went down her spine as awareness spread warmly through her middle. Although she would trade the reason it ended up there, she liked feeling his skin touching hers.

  Once home, she took off her heels and stockings and carefully hung her gray dress on a hanger and put it back in her closet. She took out her favorite jeans, a white turtleneck, and an old Norwegian sweater that used to be her mother’s. It felt good to be out of those Sunday clothes, and besides, she needed a hug from her mom after the day she’d had. Wearing her sweater was the only way Jenny would get one.

  Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, opposite hands touching opposite shoulders, and breathed deeply in and out, taking her time, finding her mother’s face in her mind and focusing on it. She closed her eyes as she inhaled and reopened them as she exhaled, just as her mother taught her. She whispered the Norwegian words over and over like a mantra or a prayer.

  Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet.

  Someone loved me once. I am blessed.

  Calmer and more centered as she headed into the kitchen, Jenny slipped her feet into thick rubber snow boots while Casey whined from her pen.

  She adopted the golden retriever puppy shortly before Thanksgiving and was still amazed by how much having a pet had changed her life. She had to come home from school at lunch to walk her, and days like today, when she was out of town, meant finding someone else to look in on her. Housebreaking the puppy was proving challenging, and at least one of Jenny’s slippers had been ruined by Casey’s razor-sharp baby teeth. But there was nothing quite like coming home to a puppy, whose wiggly body and wet hellos took the edge off of a bad day and just made a good day better.

  “Come on, Casey,” she said as she lifted the puppy out of her pen, rubbing their noses together with delight. Puppies’ paws always smelled like Fritos. Jenny loved that.

  Casey wriggled and squirmed, trying to lick and gnaw on Jenny’s nose, thrilled to see her owner but angry to have been left alone so long.

  Jenny giggled. “Quit it, you! Mamma’s had a rough day, Little Bit!”

  She pulled Casey’s bright red leash from the hook and snapped it securely to her dark-green collar. She would have to change out the colors after Christmas, but for now, Casey looked like the perfect little Christmas puppy she was.

  Jenny snapped a tiny plaid jacket around Casey’s wiggling body and then shrugged into her own parka. She didn’t bother zipping it up; it was only 35 degrees, unusually balmy for early December in Montana.

  As puppy and owner started down the stairs from their apartment above the Prairie Dawn Café & Bookstore, Jenny looked out onto Main Street. The sun was low in the sky now and gave an Old West, sepia tint to the small town of Gardiner.

  Jenny had lived here all her life, like her parents before her and grandparents and great-grandparents before them. A small town located in the southernmost part of Montana on the Wyoming border, Gardiner was also the northernmost entrance to Yellowstone National Park, which meant a brisk tourist business year round, but especially from May to September. Jenny’s father owned and operated a small but highly reputable tour-group business that took small groups into the park for custom-designed excursions, depending on the interests of the tourists. Hot springs groups, wild animal–viewing groups, hikers, leaf peepers. Her father’s schedule was always busy.

  The town itself offered more amenities than other places in Montana as a result of its connection with and proximity to Yellowstone. There were several shops offering tackle and bait for fly-fishing on the Yellowstone River, a saddler’s shop, a camping and outdoor store, a bookstore, an internet café, and several boutiques and restaurants. There was only one pharmacy in town, but it carried DVDs if you wanted some entertainment.

  As they strolled, Jenny’s attention was captured by two men arranging a banner between streetlights on opposite sides of the street and read the words “Gardiner Annual Christmas Stroll Saturday, December 2.”

  Tomorrow night! I’d almost forgotten!

  Jenny loved the Christmas Stroll, but she’d been so distracted with Ingrid’s news and request, she had forgotten all about it. She smiled with anticipation, enjoying deep gulps of clean mountain air.

  She passed Joe’s Lodge on her right and waved to her brother Erik, who was working at the bar. Erik was the youngest of her brothers, though still older than Jenny by sixteen months. She briefly considered stopping in to tell Erik about the spinout. Yes, she’d get a big hug’s worth of brotherly sympathy, but it would just worry him unnecessarily. Plus, the boys didn’t know about Ingrid’s proxy wedding, and she wasn’t ready to explain all about it. He gestured for her to come in, but she pointed to Casey, shook her head, and shrugged. He mouthed, “See you on Sunday,” and she nodded and waved, continuing on her way.

  Casey pulled her across the Yellowstone River Bridge and by the Grizzly Guzzle Grill, where she briefly admired the cheerful blinking lights and Santa scene in the window. Her brother Lars suddenly appeared on the other side of the window, surprising her with a funny face. She shook her head and giggled, waving a quick hello as Casey pulled her forward with puppy enthusiasm. As they neared the arch to Yellowstone, Jenny was breathless, begging the puppy to slow down.

  At the Roosevelt Arch, Casey obediently turned around to head home—she knew the routine—but Jenny regarded the monument for an extra moment, trying to see it through the eyes of a visitor instead of a lifelong resident.

  President Teddy Roosevelt himself had laid the cornerstone of the massive stone arch in 1903, as Jenny had been told many times by her parents, grandparents, and even great-grandmother, who had lived until Jenny was six years old and remembered attending the ceremony on the actual day with lifelong pride.

  What will Sam think of Gardiner? she wondered.

  Jenny loved Gardiner—and all of Montana, for that matter—with her whole heart, but she had no illusions about where she lived and would make no excuses for it. With just shy of one thousand citizens and a downtown area smaller than Soldier Field, Gardiner was a universe away from Chicago. But it was a good, solid place to live with kind people who cared if you lived or died…and didn’t that matter more than the bright lights of a big city?

  She walked home at a leisurely pace, making Casey heel so she can mull this over. It’s not that she wouldn’t like to see other places. She had visited Billings many times, of course, and she had attended college at the University of Great Falls, where she had spent four memorable years. But even Billings and Great Falls couldn’t compare with Chicago, which was fine with Jenny.

  It didn’t really matter what Sam or any other visitor thought about Gardiner. Deep in Jenny’s heart, she knew: Montana would always be home.

  Chapter 3

  Sam stood in the doorway of his room and made a face as he thought of the Four Seasons, where the company put him up whenever he was out of town on client business.

  This room, at the best spot in town, according to Jenny, was small and drab with a polyester patchwork bedspread covering the double bed and very little in the way of amenities or decoration.

  “Whatever,” he muttered, telling himself to be grateful there was a room available at all.

  He plopped down on the lumpy bed, lying back and shuddering as his mind replayed Jenny’s car spinning across the highway lanes. She could have been seriously injured or worse.

  My God, what i
f—what if—

  The flashback came on swiftly.

  He hadn’t been as fortunate as Jenny.

  His car had crashed into a guardrail on a major highway in October, and he had suffered two broken ribs and a concussion, which required several days of hospitalization for observation. Luckily, aside from being a little banged up and pretty sore at the time, he was good as new now. He only felt a slight, occasional twinge in his chest as the rib healed completely.

  The accident itself had scared him, though, and had additionally acted as a wake-up call, making him rethink his life and the path he was on.

  Suddenly, Pepper’s face flashed through his mind.

  He and Pepper had broken up soon after the accident, five months shy of their two-year anniversary. He’d known all along that she wasn’t “the one,” but he’d held onto her because she was scorching hot and he knew a breakup would be messy.

  Besides, he’d loved the looks from other men as they walked into a posh gala or entered a club or bar of her choosing. He could feel all those chumps eyeing Pepper, then turning their gazes to him in wonder. What did he have that they didn’t? How come he could get a girl like that?

  The truth?

  Sure, Pepper was stunning—like, just-walked-out-of-a-magazine perfect—and insanely sexy…but she was also an expensive, whiny, demanding girlfriend, with a little added sprinkle of crazy for the up-close viewer.

  Sam had stayed with her for so long because he liked the powerful way he felt with her on his arm. He had been promoted to vice president while dating Pepper, and although the advancement was outwardly based wholly on merit, Sam suspected that his girlfriend’s local celebrity status hadn’t exactly hurt his business prospects. The firm seemed to like having a young associate dating such a well-known local news and Instagram personality.

  And if Sam was totally honest? He’d have to admit that the sex was explosive, especially in the beginning. Pepper was adventurous, and they got a little rough sometimes in a hot, exciting way. But after two years, even that part of their relationship had gotten mechanical and stale. Toward the end, those nights lying next to Pepper were the emptiest of his life.