Proxy Bride (The Lindstroms Book 1) Page 4

  He sat up, thinking about the girl he met today and chuckling softly.

  Jenny and Pepper couldn’t be more different.

  He thought about Jenny sitting in the driver’s seat staring straight ahead after the spinout, looking more like a scared teenager than the pinched, snippy schoolteacher who’d dressed him down repeatedly at the courthouse. She’d looked so young, so frightened.

  His need to comfort Jenny had thrown any initial feelings about her out the proverbial window. And when she’d apologized for her earlier behavior, it had definitely thrown him for a loop. It didn’t change the fact that she was still, essentially, an uptight, small-town bumpkin, but she wasn’t as bad as he thought. Small town or not, she was prettier every time he looked at her. Sam looked down at his hands, remembering them spanning her tiny waist and then shook his head, willing thoughts of her away. He wasn’t interested in letting her under his skin.

  He changed into jeans and a sweat shirt, grabbed his laptop, and decided to make his way back to the small lobby, which had a sitting area with a fireplace. Nothing fancy, but he could catch up on some emails using the hotel’s Wi-Fi there. Anyway, even the lobby sitting area had to be better than his dumpy, depressing room.

  Walking outside, he noticed a sign with an arrow pointing to the back of the motel that read “Yellowstone River.” Hmm. Why not take a look before the sunlight disappeared completely?

  Sam had grown up in Chicago, yes, but he’d also spent just about every New Year’s Eve of his childhood at his aunt and uncle’s Montana lodge betting Kristian whether or not they’d get a glimpse of the northern lights.

  It had been years since he’d thought about New Year’s Eve in Montana. New Year’s in Chicago always included a reliably flashy party, complete with too much champagne and loud, blinding fireworks, a far cry from the simple New Year’s Eves of his childhood, spent stealing sips of glögg and looking for Mother Nature’s fireworks dancing soundlessly across the inky Montana sky like a high-tech laser show in impossibly vibrant pinks, blues, and greens.

  Around the corner of the motel, after a short walk through a brief patch of woods, he found the river, white water rushing over the rocks in a hurry to get somewhere. He could just make out the mountains in the distance, black peaks in the dying lavender light.

  It was a long time since Sam had visited Montana, but strong, nearly forgotten memories of a happy childhood engulfed him as he breathed in the crisp, fresh air. It was almost as though he was suddenly in the presence of a long-lost friend, whom his heart and mind instantly recognized, despite years apart, and he smiled, looking up at the myriad stars developing in the increasingly dark sky.

  He probably should have felt more inconvenienced by the unexpected change in his travel plans, but he didn’t. In fact, he was pleased to be back in Montana again, grateful for its timeless, unchanged majesty. He would always have an affection for this wild, untamed state, where seasons and geography were dramatic and intense, demanding respect and attention. So different from Chicago or any other city, where the seasons and geography barely impacted more than your footwear.

  It’s in my blood, he thought, this love for Montana. Like my mother and her folks too. It will always feel good to return.

  ***

  When Jenny and Casey got back to her apartment, Jenny checked herself out in the mirror, chastised herself for vanity, and then called Sam.

  “Hello?” his voice rumbled, deep and clear on the line.

  “Hi, Sam, it’s me.”

  She was nervous. Aside from her brothers or the occasional father of one of her students, Jenny didn’t talk to men on the phone very often, and certainly not single men as handsome as Sam.

  “Me who?”

  “Oh! Um, Jenny?” Why in the world she was phrasing this like a question was beyond her powers of deduction. “Jenny Lindstrom. From today. From th-the courthouse.”

  “Not ringin’ a bell.”

  “Really? But, um…we—”

  Then she heard him chuckling and grimaced. He was teasing her. Again.

  “Oh! Jennnnnnnnnny. Yeah. Right. What’s up?”

  Didn’t he say he wanted to take her out to dinner? Or had she just imagined that?

  “Um, did you want me to pick you up?”

  “Pick me up?”

  Jenny bit her lip. Had she somehow gotten this wrong? “Are we going, um, to go out to dinner?”

  “Are you asking me out?” he asked.

  “N-No! No! I thought you asked to—never mind. Crossed wires. I’ll just—”

  He chuckled again. “Jenny Lindstrom, of course I know who you are, and I would love to take you out to dinner. If you’re still free tonight, that is.”

  Dang, but his laughter was contagious.

  “Well, now I don’t know if I am,” she said, hoping he couldn’t hear the smile in her voice.

  “Aww, Jenny. Come on. I promise I won’t tease for the rest of the night.”

  She jumped on that. “Really?”

  “Really. No more teasing. And if I do, you get to choose a punishment for my bad behavior.”

  “It’s a deal. I’ll be there soon.”

  She smiled merrily, thinking of “punishments” to fit a big-city blowhard and hanging up before he could take it back.

  ***

  Sam was unexpectedly pleased with the quaint downtown area of Gardiner, walking alongside Jenny on their way to dinner.

  The village had a surprising variety of restaurants, probably owing to the proximity to Yellowstone. In certain places, it even felt like a movie set out of an old cowboy picture updated for the twenty-first century. Neon signs cheerfully beckoned folks into western-styled saloons and grills, and storefronts were so authentically Old West, he would have sworn they had been regenerated from abandoned ghost towns.

  Jenny seemed to know everyone they passed. He couldn’t count the number of times he heard “Hey there, Jenny” or “Hi, teach!” from passersby. Jenny always answered with a cheerful smile and wave, often answering back more personally: “How’s the ankle, Clive?” or “Wonderful singing in church last week, Mary Beth.”

  He also noticed the curious looks he received, walking next to her. Some approving, mostly from ladies, who nodded or simpered. Some suspicious, mostly from the men, at least one of whom tried to stare him down as they walked by.

  Only one older lady stopped to ask, “Now who’s this a’walkin’ with you, Jenny?”

  Jenny looked up at Sam, then answered the lady with a friendly smile, “Kin of Ingrid Nordstrom’s fiancé.”

  Without another word, the lady stuck out her hand and offered Sam a beaming smile. “Thankey for what your kin’s a’doin’ out there in Afghanistan.”

  Sam was caught off guard by her kindness yet was confused by her intimate knowledge of his cousin. Kristian was from a small town five hours north and, as far as Sam knew, had met Ingrid at college and never spent much time in Gardiner. It seemed unlikely the woman would know him.

  After she walked on, he looked at Jenny quizzically. “How does she know Kris?”

  “She doesn’t know him personally.” Jenny grinned at him. “But we always remember Kristian and Ingrid at the Grace Church Prayer Circle. We pray for them every week with special supplication for Kristian’s safe return.”

  “That’s nice,” said Sam.

  “It’s just what we do,” said Jenny matter-of-factly.

  It’s a wonder that small towns like Gardiner still exist in modern America, thought Sam. Places where everyone knew and looked out for one another.

  Beside him, Jenny strolled along, hands in her parka pockets and white earmuffs covering her ears. She was kind to everyone they passed and so effortlessly pretty in her jeans and furry boots. That uncomfortable feeling rolled around in the pit of his stomach again: the beginning of a foreign, instinctually inconvenient feeling he wanted to ignore. He glanced at her again, and it eased.

  “Here we are!” Jenny exclaimed, gesturing to another western-
styled storefront where a royal-blue neon moon wearing a bandit’s mask blinked jauntily overhead. The Blue Moon Raccoon Saloon.

  He raised his eyebrows at her and followed her inside.

  ***

  Sam is behaving himself.

  It was a shame too, because she had thought of such a terrific punishment for him. Oh, well, she sighed, the night is young.

  “What?” he asked.

  She peeked at him over the menu. “Huh?”

  “You sighed…nothing look good?”

  “Oh.” She set down her menu. “No, I love it here. The pizza’s very good.”

  “I tell you what, Jenny.” He smiled back at her and closed the grease-stained paper menu, placing it on top of hers. “Your turf, your choice. You order. I’ll go along with whatever’s good.”

  “Then I choose pepperoni pizza. It’s good. I promise.”

  A chubby, blonde waitress came over to take their order.

  “Heya, Jennnn,” she drawled with a guarded expression, chewing her gum like cud. Her bovine eyes flicked to Sam sitting across from Jenny and brightened. “Well, now. Who is this?”

  “Hi, Missy.” Jenny’s nose turned up a touch, and she pursed her lips, ignoring the question. Fast Missy. She was not introducing her to Sam. Nope. No way. “Large pepperoni and two Cokes, okay?”

  “Oh, I’d like a beer, please,” Sam interrupted. “What have you got?”

  Missy turned her entire body to face Sam and gave him a thousand-megawatt smile.

  “I got what-ev-er you want, sugar.”

  She straightened up and threw her shoulders back, pushing her double-Ds toward his face like twin torpedoes seeking a close-range target.

  Sam looked down at the table in embarrassment, and Jenny tilted her head to the side, rolling her eyes and giving Missy a disapproving look…which Missy ignored.

  “Hei-ei-einey-kin…Bu-u-u-sch…” she drawled flirtatiously, drawing out each word as suggestively as possible while she batted her eyelashes and snapped her gum.

  “Heineken!” said Sam quickly, looking anywhere but at Missy’s bust. “Great. Hei-Heineken is great. Thanks.”

  “Heiny-kin. Mmm-hmmmmm,” Missy groaned. “Coming up in a jiff.”

  She winked at him and lingered for a moment until Jenny cleared her throat loudly.

  “Thank you, Missy.”

  The waitress narrowed her eyes at Jenny, then humphed once before she sauntered away.

  ***

  Sam grinned at Jenny’s expression.

  Her pursed lips made her feelings clear as she watched the eager waitress head over to the bar.

  Good girl versus bad girl, he thought, studying Jenny.

  Jenny didn’t know it, but Sam had no interest in Missy’s come-ons. He’d seen it all before. What he hadn’t seen in a long time was someone like Jenny—a nice girl, in the traditional sense, like his mother or sisters. And her exasperation with Missy was completely adorable.

  “I’m sorry about that, Sam. She is just—”

  “It’s fine, Jen,” he answered, his gaze briefly dropping to her lips as they relaxed.

  “No, it’s not. It’s disgraceful. She’s always—I mean, she has just always been like that. When we were in seventh, she came to Wednesday-night fellowship with me, but I couldn’t find her at the end. Well, when I finally did, she was doing things in the coat closet with two boys from Big Sky. She just—I don’t know. Some girls are just like that, I guess.”

  “I guess. Unless boys from Big Sky are especially racy?”

  She looked at him, he supposed, to see if he was teasing her, but he kept his face carefully neutral. No way I’m getting busted for teasing.

  “Not especially,” she answered, thinking it over. “I mean, maybe. It’s more built up there. No. No, I don’t think so. Mostly I know some very nice people from Big Sky,” she decided. “Anyway, those two never came back to Wednesday-night fellowship.”

  He glanced down at the table grinning and swallowed back all the teasing comments he wanted to make, most of which included the observation that they may not have come to Wednesday-night fellowship, but Sam was fairly certain they came somewhere else. He had promised not to tease her, after all. He didn’t realize how tough it was going to be.

  “Maybe we could write those emails while we wait?” she asked, stealing his attention.

  Missy returned with their drinks, and although Jenny’s icy expression didn’t invite further conversation, she winked boldly at Sam before sauntering away. He just nodded curtly in thanks. No point in ruffling Jenny’s feathers.

  “Sure. What should we say?” he asked, placing his iPhone on the table.

  She sipped her Coke and considered, drawing concentric circles with her finger on the table. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, and his eyes followed it across her shoulder to where it ended right above her right breast. His eyes lingered there, distracted, until her voice jolted him back to their conversation.

  “We don’t have to tell them it was your fault. We could maybe tell a little white lie”—her face colored—“and say Judge Hanlon left early for the park. Sun sets so early now, he’d have to leave midafternoon to have a few good hours.” She paused, shrugging sheepishly. “I wouldn’t want them to be mad at you.”

  He looked up at her pretty face, big blue eyes wide with a mixture of chagrin and compassion.

  There you go surprising me, Jenny Lindstrom.

  She certainly didn’t owe him anything. His late arrival at the courthouse had upset her and inconvenienced her life. Heck, if he hadn’t been late, it would have been lighter on the drive home, and she wouldn’t have hit the black ice patch.

  Her kindness touched him.

  She looked down, no doubt uncomfortable under his scrutiny, and he watched her draw circles on the table with the pad of her finger before impulsively locking his index finger around hers, forming a link. He rubbed his thumb lightly over her finger.

  “Thanks, Jen.”

  Jenny looked up, her face flushing as she met his gaze. She wet her lips with her tongue, and Sam felt a small jolt of awareness pass through him, watching her, wondering what it would be like to—

  She straightened her finger to draw it back gently from his. “Maybe I like you better teasing than serious…”

  He chuckled to cover up the direction of his thoughts, then took a long sip of beer. “Does that mean I don’t have to watch myself? Teasing is okay now?”

  “A deal’s a deal.” She smiled back at him easily and shook her head. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you.”

  “Such moral high ground from the person suggesting white lies!”

  “Are you teasing me?” she demanded playfully.

  “Nope! Nope. Just an observation.” Huh. She can be pretty fun when she isn’t being so prickly. She’s smart. Quick. Before he found himself roped into washing her car or walking her dog, he decided they should get going on that email. “Okay. We’ll say Judge Hanlon left early for ‘Yeller’ and I was running a little late. The two circumstances left us without an option, and we’re headed back on Monday to get married instead.”

  “To get them married instead.”

  “Of course. That’s what I meant.” His phone was dark on the table, and he pressed the start button on the bottom. Nothing happened. He pressed it again, and then it dawned on him: he had tried to use it to map himself an alternate route from Bozeman to Livingston while behind the snowplow and must have forgotten to turn off the roaming signal. The battery had died sometime during the afternoon. “Shoot!”

  “Dead battery?”

  He shook his head back and forth. “’Fraid so.”

  Could he get nothing right around this woman? He perpetually looked like an unprepared student.

  She smiled at him. “It’s okay. I’ll just send them an email from my laptop after dinner.”

  Of course he trusted Jenny to send something completely appropriate, but as he checked her out across the table, he realized he didn
’t want their evening to end so soon. “Mind if I come along and we write it together?”

  “Don’t trust me?” she asked.

  “No, it’s just—”

  “It’s fine!” She put her palms up and turned her face away. “Big-city ways. Can’t trust anyone.”

  He thought about telling her the truth: that he didn’t want to go back to his cold, dumpy hotel room when he could possibly spend some time with her in what he was sure would be a warm, homey apartment. He pictured somewhere cozy and bright with—

  Wait a minute, brother! What’s going on with you? She’s a prickly little schoolteacher from a tiny town in Montana! Why exactly are you plotting ways to spend more time with her? Are you interested in her, Sam?

  She was looking around the bar with that pinched expression back on her face.

  Interested in her? No! No way! She’s just the only person I know in this one-horse town. And the email! We need to write that email. That’s all. Interested? Please. No way.

  Missy returned with their pizza and licked her lips at Sam, her tongue lingering on the corner of her mouth. She sure was trying hard, but she simply wasn’t his type.

  Jenny took a slice of pizza, and Sam did the same.

  “So,” he said, because the silence between them was getting uncomfortable, “you grew up with Ingrid?”

  Jenny nodded. “Ing’s family moved here from Wyoming when she was a baby. I don’t ever remember a day of my life without Ingrid in it. We were in the church nursery together, preschool. I was homeschooled, but she always told me the public-school gossip: which boy liked which girl, anyone who got in trouble…” She chuckled lightly. “Even if it was her.”

  “You were homeschooled?”

  “Uh-huh. Me and Erik, my youngest brother. Well, not the youngest. I’m the baby, but he’s the youngest of my three older brothers.”

  His eyes shot up to her face. “Wait! You’ve got three older brothers?”

  She nodded while wiping at her lips with a paper napkin.

  “Cheers to you, Jenny.” He raised his beer to her and took a big gulp. “You don’t drink alcohol?”

  “Not really. Seems like liquor just causes problems.”