Free Missionary Daddy by Linda Goodnight Page A

silly we’ll never get finished here.”
    “Worse things could happen.”
    Sam studied his expression. Was he saying he actually enjoyed her company again?
    “Here’s the duty schedule,” she said, pulling a sheet from her purse. “Nikki and Gina worked this out and I haven’t had time to check it over for accuracy.”
    “I can check it later. Did you make copies?”
    “The girls did that, too. They’ve worked hard on this.”
    “I hope their hard work translates into a successful fund-raiser.”
    “Do you think the heat will keep people away?”
    “You know this place better than I do, but I wouldn’t think so. The estate is covered with big shade trees and there are plenty of drink stands.”
    “And don’t forget the dunk tank,” Sam said with a smile.
    Eric laughed. “Yeah. People may be fighting to get dunked instead of the other way around.”
    Happiness bubbled up inside Samantha. She leaned back against the slick vinyl booth and pushed her hands up through the back of her hair, a gesture she used in modeling so often that it had become habit.
    A young couple at a nearby table caught her eye. Staring at Samantha, the woman leaned forward and said something to the man, her expression animated. Hoping to avoid unwanted attention, Sam averted her face and sipped at her coffee.
    Most of the time here in her hometown, she wasn’t bothered, but not always. Chestnut Grove attracted a number of tourists, too, taking in the area history.
    As the waitress dashed over to refill the cup, the pair got up and came toward Sam’s booth. The woman carried something in one hand.
    “Aren’t you Samantha Harcourt? The model for Style jeans?”
    So much for hoping they wouldn’t say anything. With a polite, plastic smile, she answered, “Yes. I’m Sam.”
    “See, I told you it was her,” the man said to his companion. “Go on. Ask her. She won’t care.”
    The woman laid a magazine on the table. Sam’s image filled the entire page. “Would you mind autographing this for me?”
    The man whipped a pen from his pocket.
    Eric grew quiet. Sam’s heart sank to her pink French pedicure. Negative thoughts pushed into her head. Every time she and Eric found common ground, something happened to remind them both of the vast differences. He rescued orphans from lives of despair. She signed autographs for strangers. Boy, wasn’t she special.

Chapter Six

    T his year’s Noble Foundation Picnic, under the guidance of Andrew Noble, had morphed into the biggest fund-raiser ever. The expansive, manicured lawn of the Noble Estate was dotted with various types of games, concessions and other forms of entertainment. In the past the picnic had been an invitation-only affair. This year, the estate’s massive electronic gates stood open to anyone willing to pay the price to enter the grounds.
    A radio station broadcast from one side of the estate while a popular local television show, Afternoons with Douglas Matthews, filmed a segment near the green hedge maze. The Youth Center concession sat outside the maze opposite the film crew.
    “They did it to us again, didn’t they?”
    With a wry shake of his head, Eric tacked the work schedule to a board inside the concession stand. Nikki and Gina had scheduled him and Sam to work the stand together all day.
    “Yes, and at least two of them will be jammed inside this booth throughout the day to keep an eye on us.”
    “And report back to the others.” Though Eric doubted they’d have anything exciting to tell. His friendship with Samantha Harcourt was tentative at best.
    Sam’s perfect smile flashed, not the fake smile she’d used with the autograph seekers last night, but a smile that lit her from the inside out. She looked especially beautiful today in a lacy tank top and soft fitted jeans with just the right jewelry. Not that he was a fashion guru, but any man alive would notice Sam. Even casually dressed, she still looked like a glamorous model, a cut above every other woman