Her birthday had come and gone, bringing with it plenty enough surprises to last her a lifetime. Since she had suggested giving Ace to Cody several months back, she had settled into riding Tempest when available. Despite the fact that the spunky young mare was her own, her father was impressed with her cattle skills, and often claimed her for the day. When she wasn't around, Sam settled for Blue, her father's Spanish Mustang. Not that he was around much either. Most days, one or another cowboy had him out as well. Blue wasn't too shabby of a cow-horse himself.
But she had awoken this morning with her little brother's excited face in her tired one. "C'mon Sammy! Let's go for a ride!" His grin split his face. She groaned, placing two fingers on his chest and pushing him away gently. "I'm not doing anything until I pee, Code. Now please move off my stomach before I pee the bed," and she covered her harsher than meant words with a chuckle and a full grin. His five year olf giggle warmed her to her toes as he did just that.
She moaned in relief as her bladder was emptied, smiling when Cody laughed from the hall. She splashed cold water on her face, hoping to remove the last traces of sleep from her eyes. Tiptoe-ing to the door, she waited a few seconds with her ear pressed to the cold wood. She shivered, then yanked the open with a "ROAR!" sending Cody scurrying toward the steps, releasing a joyful squeal as he did. He looked over his shoulder when he reaching the landing, waving his hand in an attempt to hurry her. She broke into a jog, thinking of how feisty the little boy could be when he didn't get his way. He definitely had the Forster blood in his veins.
She tossed him into the air, smiling again as he squealed. She wouldn't admit it aloud, but he wasn't bad for a younger brother. For a sibling she hadn't wanted in the first place, she had become attached quickly. Now, she would give her life for his, no questions asked. She plopped the toddler back onto the floor before squatting in front of him and pulling her hair over her shoulder. He recognized the action quickly, and scrambled to climb up her back. His hands locked around her throat, his legs as far around her stomach as he could get them. Once she was sure he was secure, she literally hopped down the stairs.
"Surprise!" A chorus of shouts caused twenty year old Samantha Forster to slide to a stop, eyes wide, fingers gripping her brother's arm. She took in the decorations first. Balloons hung from the cabinets, the ceiling, chairs, anywhere her family had been able to hang them. Banners were strung from the ceiling to the cabinet sides, and confetti drifted down. Someone must have thrown it when she had come in. "Whoa," she whispered, and someone chuckled.
Next came the faces. Her father stood closest to her, his teeth shining in his tanned face. Brynna stood beside him, her arm strung through his. She was grinning too. Sam smiled back before continuing her examination. Maxine Ely came next, all smiles, her husband close behind her. Even Luke Ely was smiling. Kit was the next to enter her line of vision, tall as a redwood tree. All of them were tall as redwood trees. Nate was closest to Kit, Adam beside him. Jen was next, standing out like a sore thumb. Her blonde hair was like a red cape in a field of snow. Quinn stood beside her, and Bryan was beside him. Gram was nearest Bryan, her eyes twinkling brightly in her wrinkled face. All stared at the woman, whose hair was a mess, and who was still in her pajamas.
Only one Ely was missing. Everyone quieted when her face fell. Eleven pairs of eyes slid away, heads bowed. She didn't register the weight being lifted from her back, just the strong arms that suddenly engulfed her. She sobbed freely against the wide chest, her fists clutching the fabric of his shirt desperately. Bryan nodded solemnly as they started slipping from the room. Wyatt was the first to leave, staring the train that streamed from the kitchen.
His shirt was soaked in minutes. Not that he cared. No, his little brother's best friend was releasing her grief. Everyone had cried. Everyone, including Jen, had shed for their fallen comrade. Everyone except Sam. Instead, she had turned into a zombie. For the longest time, she had done nothing but lay tucked as tightly into her covers as she could get. The lights never came on, she only spoke when she was spoken to, and then only in short words. Answering with a "yes," or a "no" whenever possible. Days were went without food or water, despite the begging of her family. She just didn't have the will to live without her best friend.
Bryan Ely, for some reason, was chosen to return life to her deteriorating body. When persuasion hadn't gotten her to sit up and put food in her stomach, he had used force. When she hadn't responded to his quiet pleading, he had sighed and slipped his large hands under her back. Using brute strength, he had lifted her thinning form into a sitting position before leaning her against the headboard. Pillows rested on either side, should she slip before he could grab her. Then, without a word, he had scooped some mashed potatoes onto a spoon, used his other hand to open her mouth, and rubbed her throat to make her swallow. He repeated the process until the bowl was empty, stopping every so often to tip her head back for a sip of milk. Not once did she actually look at him, but her small sound of recognition brought a smile to his face that lasted the entire trip to the kitchen.
"She ate it all?" Wyatt's quiet voice jolted Bryan from his daze. Wyatt sat at the table. His head rested on his left palm, chair slid out to accommodate him. Worry had brought new wrinkles to his face, making him look years older than he was.
"I had to make her, but yeah," he tipped the bowl to the older cowboy, revealing just the tiniest traces of food still left. "I got as much as I could, but I'm still worried, Wyatt. It didn't even hit Mom this hard, and Jake i-was her baby. But I can't help but have hope," a grin broke his dark face again. "She actually made a noise when I was leaving. I think I outta go back up soon. I left her sitting up." He grew wary as he watched Wyatt, afraid he would disapprove of his decision, but her merely nodded. Bryan turned to the sink to rinse the bowl.
"I think she was in love with him. I know he was her best friend, but I think she loved him. Bryan," suddenly Wyatt was at his elbow, and he spun the younger man to grip both of his arms. Tears pricked in the corner's of his eyes. "Please bring my baby back to me. I don't think I can take losing her too. No, I know I can't. She's too young to leave us, and I'm not ready to let her go. Please," Wyatt Forster couldn't remember ever begging for anything, nor to anyone. But here he was, tears running down his face, fingers biting into the arms of his friend's son, begging him to save his daughter from her own heart. He knew, in the recesses of his mind, that he was asking for something that might be impossible. Instead, he had watched the determination take over the Ely boy's body and emotions, and felt relief when his own large hands had clamped over his forearms. "I'll do everything I can, Mr. Forster. You can count on that, I promise you." And before Wyatt could thank him, he was gone from the room, his heavy footsteps echoing up the stairs.
Now, nearly a year later, she was crying over his dead baby brother for the first time, and he realized just how much she had really loved him. Her heart and soul had left her to be with him, and he had stolen them away in his passing. "Did he know?" he whispered, his arms still wrapped tightly around her. She shook her head against his chest, and he sighed. "I think...I think he might have guessed, but I...I never told him. And now I never can!" Her tears started fresh again, and he backed them slowly to the table. Without removing his arms from the mourning woman, he used a foot to pull out a chair, and brought her onto his lap as he sat, her face still hidden in the planes of his chest. "He loved you, Sammy. I know he did. I lived with the man for eighteen years, and he was head over heels for you. He wouldn't want you sad over him. He hated it when you cried, member?" He smiled as she nodded against him, and then she sniffled. "Its okay to cry for him, but cry about the good times you had with him, not his death. Every time you hear someone say 'Brat,' you can smile, 'cause Jake didn't always do it to annoy you. If he hadn't, you woulda thought you'd done something wrong, huh?" she nodded again, and he could feel the slight touch of her mouth against him.
"Bryan Ely, what would I do without you?" Her voice was small, and at first he thought he had imagined it. But had didn't, and she was waiting for a response. Even if she had intended it as a rhetorical question, he knew she would expect an answer. That was Sammy. Always wanting answers.
His chest rose with a deep breath, and he watched as her head lifted with it. One hand moved to cup her cheek, and gently forced her to look at him. "Sammy, I'm afraid to think of that. After Jake..."he trailed off, successfully hiding the pain that wanted to surface at his baby brother's name. "We were all scared for you. Do you remember how you were after you heard?" Her chin rubbed against his chest as she shook her head. "It was terrifying," he answered. "You weren't Sammy anymore. it was like you had died too. All you did was stare at the walls. You didn't eat, you didn't talk. Nothing at all. You were the worst of us all. Worse even than Mom. I've never seen anything like it, and I'd rather eat my own foot then see it again. Did you know you'd only eat if it was me helping? Quinn tried to trick you a couple times, but even as out of it as you were, you knew it wasn't me."
"Is that true?" Her eyes locked with his as he nodded, and held up his hand, whispering, "Scout's honor."
He cleared his throat and she slid from his lap as he made to stand. "Now, dear Sammy, ready to get on with this party?" She nodded and glanced at the door, drawing a big breath for courage. Bryan chuckled and dropped his arm to her shoulders. "Don't worry, Sammy. I'll tell 'em," and he slid away from her.
He poked his head past the door, and grinned at everyone. "C'mon back in, guys. The coast is clean; the waterworks are over," and Sam laughed from the kitchen behind him. Wyatt's chest deflated with his sigh of relief, and he looked at the younger man, their eyes snapping to one anothers. Though Wyatt's mouth joked and replied "better you than me," his eyes thank the young Ely with everything in him. But Sam's obnoxious bark of laughter brought joy to him.
Wyatt clapped his hands together before standing. "Okay, everyone, let's show Sam her surprise." They quickly followed his example, and rose to their feet as well. Again, the train of bodies passed through the door, back into the kitchen. Bryan stood behind Sam already, his fingers wriggling in anticipation. He was watching Wyatt, waiting for the signal. His grin grew as the older cowboy nodded with a grin of his own. His arms snaked around Sam, his large hands covering more than just her eyes. In fact, he figured one hand could cover half of her face.
He chuckled at her squeal of surprise, and watched the smiles overtake the faces of everyone else in the room. Yes, a smiling Same was definitely better than a crying Sam. He was sure they would all agree if he asked them. But he knew he didn't have to. Every person in the tiny kitchen loved the auburn haired woman in one way or another.
"Ready, Sammy," he heard Adam as from behind him. She nodded against Bryan's hands, and he smiled again. "Okay, guys. Let's show the lady her gift," and he used his elbows to apply pressure on her shoulder blades. Her hands came up to grasp his, and he tsked his tongue. "Nope Sammy," he chuckled, tightening his hands ever so slightly. "No peeking!"
He nodded at Brynna as she held the door open for them. They crossed the porch without incident, but he had to readjust his hand to keep her eyes covered and simultaneously wrap an arm around her waist to prevent her falling down the steps. She swatted at him, her arm reaching behind her and towards him when he laughed. "You could have warned me, you big jerk," she hissed, anger tinting her words. He laughed again and moved his other hand back to her eyes.
"I tried to," he was still chuckling. "But you never did listen to anything us Ely men said." He dodged ass he swatted at him again.
Sam continued walking, even after Bryan had stopped. Once she had his arms extended as far as the would go, she realized her mistake and blushed. Everyone laughed, and her face grew hotter. The man covering her eyes could feel it, and couldn't resist remarking on it. "Geez, Sammy. Any hotter and we're going to have roasted hands for supper!"
Silently, he moved to stand behind her again, and leaned in to whisper in her ear. She jumped when his hot breath tickled her. "Three...two...one!" and his hands jerked from her face.
Sam's hands flew to her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. Jake's horse stood before her, gleaming in the sunlight. Slowly she took a step towards the mare, watching closely for a sign of danger. But there was none. Witch had noticed the disappearance of her human, and she seemed to recognize the woman always around him. She whuffled her lips over Sam's hand, and Sam reached up to rub the mare's forelock. "oh, Bryan," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. She turned to them all, her bottom lip trembling, her hands shaking at her sides. "I-I can't take his horse. She belongs at Three Ponies, not here," she cast her eyes down, looking away from everyone. Bryan was the first to recover, and he stepped toward the blubbering woman. He wrapped his arms around her, and his chest grew warm with her tears again.
He bent down so his mouth was level with her ear. "Maybe you belong at Three Ponies," he whispered, and smiled at her gasp. Her head jerked back and she locked eyes with him. He was grinning as he dropped to the ground, the others forgotten. Tears ran down her face, her eyes never leaving his. "Samantha Anne Forster, will you marry me?"
Maxine gasped, and tears swelled in the eyes of all three women. The men, however, weren't so responsive. Instead, they all stared, mouths gaping. Was Bryan Ely, studly, woman-loving Bryan Ely really proposing to sweet, quiet little Samantha Forster? The four young men glanced at their father; he was smiling. Must have know about the entire thing. Their gazes shifted as on to Wyatt, but he was smiling too. Leave it to Bryan to speak to the cowboy beforehand. They all doubted any of them would have thought to do so, had they been in Bryan's position. All were impulsive, jumping at any opportunity that caught their interest.
"Are you sure," she whispered, eyes clouded. Worry, fear, hope. All took turns making themselves known. He chuckled, eyebrows raising as he watched her. "Sammy, if I wasn't sure, I wouldn'ta asked." His hand gripped her's in anticipation, eyes shining.
"I dunno, I've had my eye on Quinn for awhile now," she teased, winking at the other Ely boy. Bryan's jaw dropped before he burst out laughing. The others joined in quickly. "Yes, Bryan. I'll marry you," and she was crying again.
It took a minute for her words to register, and then he was on his feet, his arms around her. Her feet were lifted from the ground as he swung her in a circle, her body pulled tightly to his chest. Her arms were strung tightly around his neck, fearing for her own. Not that she didn't trust him, he was just clumsy sometimes. Most of the time.
Then, just for a second, through her tears, and with her chin resting on the now still shoulder of Bryan, she could have sworn Jake was there. His lazy tomcat grin plastered on his face, warming her chilled heart. She knew Jake approved.