Free The Soldier's Sweetheart by Deb Kastner

if he put his mind to it, and he had enough respect for Samantha and her family not to toy with her when he had nothing of substance to offer.
    He dropped her hand as soon as he was certain she had her balance and tunneled his fingers through his hair. He’d been a loner for most of his life. It shouldn’t be difficult to maintain the facade of detachment.
    So why was it that he had to continually remind himself that’s what he needed to do?
    “Are we finished?” he asked abruptly.
    “Finished with work, or finished with our conversation?” She sounded confused, possibly a little hurt. He’d obviously wounded her by pulling back the way he had. He was sorry about that, but in the long run, she’d thank him.
    “Both.” He forced himself to meet her gaze straight on.
    Her dark brows rose into high arches. She looked as if she was going to argue, and then apparently thought better of it. “Both it is, then.”
    She spun on her heels and started to walk toward the shop, but she suddenly halted and turned back. Her lips twitched as she narrowed her gaze on him, watching him carefully. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze.
    “Will you be coming for Sunday supper? I know my parents really enjoyed having you over last week.”
    Up until that moment, Will had had every intention of spending Sunday afternoon with the Howells. Having not had much of a family life growing up, he appreciated the way Samuel and Amanda Howell drew him and Genevieve into their world. He almost felt as if they had become part of the Howells’ extended family.
    And the food was incredible. He’d never experienced anything close to the sizable country banquet they spread every Sabbath. He thought Amanda must cook the entire week just to present the fixins she offered, extending from one end of their sideboard to the other.
    But the way Samantha had asked the question, he had the distinct impression she didn’t want him to come. He narrowed his eyes on her, but her gaze gave away nothing.
    “Yeah, I’m coming,” he said after an extended pause. “At least I was planning on it.”
    There. That should give her a clear way out—if she wanted to take it. She could tell him to make other plans, simple as that.
    But she didn’t. She just gave a clipped nod. “Well, fine, then. My parents will like that.”
    He had no doubt that her parents would like it. They longed for their son, Seth, to return safely from the war. His absence was especially felt at the dinner table, where his chair remained empty. Will didn’t mind sitting in for him. And Samuel and Amanda adored Genevieve, treating her like the granddaughter they did not yet have.
    “What about you?”
    As much as he wanted to know the answer to that question, he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud until he heard her abrupt intake of breath. He winced. If he hadn’t previously hollowed out his own grave, he’d certainly managed to mine a wide chasm now. At the moment, burrowing into that foxhole and covering his head with his arms to protect himself from the fallout didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
    She raised a brow. “What about me?”
    Will’s throat worked as he searched for words, but he simply shook his head and remained silent.
    Because that was a question he wasn’t sure he wanted her to answer. Because no matter what she said, it meant trouble.

Chapter Five
    W ell, that was weird, Samantha thought as she laid out the Sunday dinner china on her mother’s table .
    Two days had gone by and Samantha still couldn’t wrap her mind around everything that had happened during her conversation with Will. Yesterday she’d been thinking of confronting him, or at least picking up where they’d left off, but Saturday was always the most hectic day of the week for Sam’s Grocery.
    As if regular weekend grocery shoppers weren’t enough to keep the store hopping, the traditional Fourth of July celebration on the town green was scheduled for the coming Tuesday and folks were