By Proxy (19 page)

“Morning, Pretty Girl,” he murmured. “I missed you.”

She shook her head lightly and looked down at her folded hands, but he could tell she was pleased.

He glanced beyond her to their left and saw her brothers and Mr. Lindstrom in a straight line, all four heads craning for a look at Sam. He offered them a reserved smile and a small wave. The boys smiled and waved back in greeting. Mr. Lindstrom’s blue eyes held Sam’s unwaveringly for a moment then he nodded curtly before turning his attention ahead.

The pastor entered from a side door, wearing his robe and vestments, and the congregation chit-chat hushed to a murmur as he lit the Advent wreath candles and welcomed everyone to the service. They opened their hymnals to a Christmas carol and Sam smiled, glad to be sitting next to Jenny in church at Christmastime.

***

After the service, Jenny guided Sam to the fellowship hour where she poured them each a cup of coffee, waiting for her family to join them. Her father and brothers had gotten tied up in a conversation about ice fishing with the folks in the pew behind them, and she had gestured to them to come find her at the coffee social when they were finished.

“Jenny,” Sam whispered, catching her eyes over the rim of the paper cup he held. “What do you want to do today?”

She smiled at him, delighted. “I don’t know. What do
you
have in mind?”

He raised his eyebrows, teasing her, making her remember his knee-buckling kisses from last night
.
“We can figure it out after.”

“Sam!” Nils was suddenly at Sam’s shoulder, slapping his back in hello. Lars, Erik and her father approached together, and Jenny breathed deeply. It was one thing for Sam to meet the boys; meeting her father was another. They formed an awkward semi-circle around Jenny and Sam, and Jenny introduced Sam to her father.

“Sam, I didn’t get to properly introduce you before. This is our father, Carl. Pappa, this is Sam. He’s kin of Kristian, who’s marrying Ingrid.”

Sam put out his hand and shook her Pappa’s hand, offering him an open smile. “Mr. Lindstrom. It’s a pleasure, sir.”

“Jenny-girl.” He was looking at Sam, but his words were for Jenny. Her father was tall and blond like the boys, but his hair had a fair sprinkling of white now. He dropped Sam’s hand and turned to Jenny, blue eyes to blue eyes. “Heard about a fella you were keeping company with at the Stroll.”

“Oh, Pappa. We’re not…keeping company. Sam’s just visiting until Monday.” She studied her toes, embarrassed
. Who said things like “keeping company” anymore?
Her father was hopelessly old-fashioned. “The boys met him yesterday.”

Her father nodded sternly and turned back to Sam. “Ingrid’s your cousin, Sam?”

“No sir,” he replied, holding her father’s eyes directly. “Ingrid’s fiancé Kristian is my cousin.”

“Uh-huh. One over in Afghanistan, eh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did military time myself. You, Sam?”

“No, sir.”

Her father nodded again, then cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes, putting his hands on his hips and leaning toward Sam with purpose. “Your intentions pure, Sam?”

“Pappa!” Jenny exclaimed in a shocked gasp.
Where, oh, where were those caverns of the universe when you needed one to open at your father’s feet?
“Sam is a
friend—
”

“Yes.”

She turned her glance from her father and looked at Sam, as if in slow motion, as if seeing him for the first time. Sam stood planted on the ground firmly, holding her father’s eyes without excuse or explanation, without pause or any trace of intimidation. He was sure-footed, tall and proud, and a smile spread across her face as her heart burst with pleasure. She was sure Sam didn’t realize the nuances of this exchange but she was touched beyond words that he would stand up for her with such a confident declaration.

Her father breathed in deeply, then out, nodding at Sam slowly. Unexpectedly, he flashed him a wide smile as his weathered face relaxed, showing six decades of laugh lines on his tanned, rugged face. “You sure you’re not from Montana?”

Sam chuckled then, sharing that his mother had grown up in Choteau, and he had spent a good bit of time up there throughout his childhood. Her father pumped Sam for information about his folks in Choteau; every Swede was always convinced they could figure out they were sixth cousins thrice removed to another Swede if they were just given enough time.

Lars clapped Sam on the back and kissed Jenny’s cheek, leaving for Upper Slide, where he and Paul would be putting up their fishing shack on the lake. Erik said he’d give them a hand and followed him out. Nils and her father needed to iron out some details for a group of tourists arriving tomorrow. Her father’s eyes twinkled.

“Wildlife group. You like wildlife, Sam?”

Sam nodded at her father and shrugged. “Sure, Mr. Lindstrom. But in the winter?”

“Best time to see it. Nowhere for ’em to hide. Clean white backdrop. If you have some time today, Jenny could take you for a walk out there. Just to see a bit. She knows all the right places.” He winked at his daughter. “See you for supper later?”

“Four o’clock, Pappa,” she responded and waved as he and the boys went on their way.

Once they were out of sight, Jenny turned to Sam, anxious to be alone with him for whatever time they had left together. “Ready to go?”

He nodded and they exited through a side door, into the church playground.

“Sam, you didn’t have to say that,” she started as they walked through the front courtyard, onto the street and back toward the bridge.

“Say what?”

“You know, the ‘intentions’ thing. He’s just really old-fashioned.”

“I meant it.”

She whipped her head up to meet his eyes, confused. “You
couldn’t
have meant it.”

“Of course I did, Jen.”

Her heart started beating like crazy. He couldn’t have meant it. He couldn’t have fully formed intentions for her. “Sam, I don’t know if we’re talking about the same thing here.”

He shrugged, wrinkling his brows together. “I meant I would treat you with respect. I wouldn’t dishonor you. I wouldn’t do anything to compromise your reputation.”

She was walking fast, and he stopped her by touching her arm. She turned to look at his face.

“Oh,” she answered, meekly, softly, a little bit relieved and sad at the same time.

“What did you think I meant?”

She stopped at the railing, looking out over the whitewater. Bright sunshine made the water sparkle, and melted small bits of ice wept into the river, becoming part of the rush of sound and fury.

She sighed loudly, blowing the air out of her lips in big white puffs and resting her mittened hands on the railing. “My father’s old-fashioned. He uses old-fashioned words and phrases sometimes. It’s just his way. ‘Pure intentions’ isn’t about you seducing me.” She bit her bottom lip, embarrassed. He stood next to her at the railing and she turned and faced him squarely. “You essentially just assured him you’re courting me with an eye to marriage.”

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. She almost started giggling, but thinking about the conversation she was going to have to have with her father to clear up this misunderstanding more than stifled her cheer.

“Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re getting married tomorrow,” he quipped.

“It’s not funny, Sam. He takes these things seriously.” She didn’t know if Sam was mocking her father, but it felt like it a little. Plus, she was annoyed with her father, and she may as well be angry at
someone.

“I’m sorry, Jenny. I just…I don’t know what to say. Who uses phrases like that anymore? It’s the twenty-first century.”

That got her back up. She could say her Pappa was old-fashioned. Even the boys could say their Pappa was old-fashioned. But that’s where the list ended and Sam wasn’t on it.

“Oh, no, Sam,
I’m
sorry. I guess we’re just a little too provincial for sophisticated you. My father cares about my reputation and— Forget it. Don’t trouble yourself, Sam. You’re from a big city. He’ll understand.” She turned from the railing and started walking briskly again. He quickened his pace to keep up, finally putting his hand on her arm.

“Jenny. Wait. Slow down. I feel like you’re picking a fight with me. We’re not on opposite sides here.” She stopped walking, facing him as he continued. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward spot. And I didn’t mean to mislead your father. And you yourself said he was old-fashioned. I don’t know why you’re getting so mad at me.”

He was right. She was picking a fight. She was angry that he was leaving tomorrow. She was angry that she cared about him so much. She was angry that his “pure intentions” weren’t the ones her father meant, even though that was crazy. She hadn’t known him long enough to consider courting, let alone marriage. It was ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Sam.” She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, then exhaled and opened them, muttering, “
Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet
,” as quietly as she could.

“Hey, what is that? That meditation thing you do. That’s Swedish, right? Something about love?”

She started walking again, but slower this time. He reached for her hand, and she let him hold her mittened hand.

He barely heard her whisper. “Norwegian. My Mom.”

She took a deep breath. “When she was dying, we were all brave. Upbeat, you know? But one afternoon she caught me crying. I started crying because I knew how much I was going to miss her. So much, Sam.” She bit her lower lip and a tear rolled down her cheek. “And she said when I missed her so much it was hurting, h-hurting my h-heart, I should close my eyes, and picture her face. And I should say ‘
Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet
’ to myself which means ‘Someone loved me once. I-I am blessed.’” Tears were streaming down her face as she finished speaking, but she made no move to swipe at them. They stayed where they fell. She bit her lip and inhaled through her nose, sniffling. “Sometimes it makes me feel better. Sometimes it makes me feel worse. But it always makes me remember her, and that makes me feel closer to her, whether it feels good or bad.”

“I bet she’s very proud of you,” he said gently.

“I doubt it. I haven’t done anything very special with my life.”

“That’s not true. You teach kids. You impact every one of their lives. You’re kind and thoughtful and good. Everyone in this town knows you and loves you. Any fool walking next to you at a Christmas Stroll could see that. Nothing special? Everything, Jenny,
everything
about you is special. I can’t believe you can’t see that.”

You don’t know
, she thought to herself.
She wanted more than this for me.
C.S. Lewis had written at the time of his wife’s death “I never knew that grief felt so much like fear.” As Jenny emerged from the cocoon of grief following her mother’s death, she had clutched onto her family more strongly than ever. The ultimate question was childish but haunting:
If I left for Great Falls and lost my mother, what would happen if I left again?
Her mother’s wishes for her had taken a backseat to the gripping fear that demanded she stay close to her father and brothers. Jenny was sure she would have been a disappointment to her Mamma.

Still, she wanted to weep from the beauty of his words, from his kindness, his reassurance, the way he saw her.
How will I bear to say good-bye?

“Sam…” she started, but fresh tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t finish what she wanted to say.

They stopped in front of the Prairie Dawn. His black-gloved finger swiped gently under each of her eyes in turn; then he touched her nose with a tap, smiling tenderly at her. “I’m sorry about your Mom, Jenny. I’m so sorry.”

She nodded, smiling for him, grateful for him.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“Now…no more crying or fighting, Pretty Girl. It’s our last day. We have a whole afternoon, and I was thinking…”

She looked up at him with anticipation, sniffling for the last time and giving him a fresh, hopeful smile. “Mmm?”

“I heard tell about some wildlife in these hills, and I am a pretty wild guy…”

“For Chicago.” She teased with good-humored sarcasm.

“For Chicago. That’s right. And I think I need to see if the wildlife in Yeller can hold a candle to the wildlife in the big city.”

“No contest.” She challenged, hands on her hips.

“So you say. Think you can take down a city mouse? Bold words, Kitten.”

“Time for
you
to see some of the park.”

“Meet you back here in an hour?”

She smiled at him, wishing she never had to say good-bye. “See you back here in
half
an hour.”

***

They started the driving tour by crossing under the Roosevelt Arch, and Jenny told Sam just to keep going straight on I-89, into Wyoming. Her plan was for them to drive the Grand Loop Road, about 140 miles, past Mt. Washburn and back to Gardiner. It would take them around the rim of the caldera, and they should be able to see a fair smattering of animals: bear, deer, bison, bighorn sheep, elk. She crossed her fingers. With wildlife, there were no guarantees.

Jenny knew this part of the park like the back of her hand, and the Grand Loop was the best way to get an overview of the northern park when you only had half a day to spare. It wasn’t more than a three- or four-hour drive at most, even if they stopped once or twice, so they should be back in time for her to make it to Sunday supper at her father’s house at four.

She had packed sandwiches, chips and apples for their lunch when they felt like stopping. Sam had some soft country music playing and Jenny kicked off her boots, relaxing in the passenger seat, trying to savor these last few hours with Sam.

Enjoy yourself. You can be sad tomorrow after you’ve said good-bye. Don’t let it ruin today.

“Some folks say the Grand Loop is like Jurassic Park or a safari. You’re definitely going to see some wildlife, Sam. It’s just a matter of what and how much.” She glanced over at him, casually powerful in the small bucket seat of his rental car. He belonged in a truck or an SUV, not a little sedan. “Just keep your eyes open. We’ll stop in a little bit to check out Mammoth Springs. It’s going to come up soon.”