Dear Mister Silver: A Sweet Small-Town

Holiday Romance (Christmas Letters

Book 2) Shanna Hatfield
Visit to download the full and correct content document:
https://ebookmass.com/product/dear-mister-silver-a-sweet-small-town-holiday-roman
ce-christmas-letters-book-2-shanna-hatfield/
 Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Author’s Note
Recipe
Thank You
Dear Miss Nicholas Preview
Books by Shanna Hatfield
About the Author
 Christmas Letters Book 2
A Sweet Contemporary Holiday Romance
by
USA TODAY Bestselling Author
SHANNA HATFIELD
Dear Mister Silver
Christmas Letters Book 2

Copyright © 2024 by Shanna Hatfield

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered,
transmitted, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including
photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, now known or hereafter invented, without the written
permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews and certain other noncommercial uses
permitted by copyright law. Please purchase only authorized editions.

For permission requests, please contact the author, with a subject line of “permission request,” at the email address below or
through her website.

Shanna Hatfield
shanna@shannahatfield.com
shannahatfield.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, or
actual events is purely coincidental.

Cover Design: Covers and Cupcakes, LLC

Published by Wholesome Hearts Publishing, LLC.

wholesomeheartspublishing@gmail.com
 Dedication
To Brad and Brenda –
You are both shining examples of what
true friendship really means.
Thank you for always being there.
 Prologue
May 1
Dear Mister Silver,
We’ve never met. You have no reason to reply to this letter or my request. But I sincerely hope you will.
I found your website in the depths of a dark night and am awed by your craftsmanship and talent. Your ability to
create heirloom ornaments and keepsakes is incredible.
It’s because of that I’m reaching out to you.
Although it is rare for anyone to write a letter these days, an email or phone call seems far too impersonal for what
I’m about to ask of you.
My request is for you to make an ornament for my son, Joey. He’s five. He’s been fascinated with praxinoscopes since
we saw one in a museum when he was three. His greatest desire is to grow up to be a cowboy.
Sadly, I fear he won’t grow up at all.
Joey has acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Basically, his body makes too many of a white blood cell called a lymphocyte.
While this is the most common cancer in children, Joey has not responded to two rounds of chemotherapy or a bone marrow
transplant. The doctors are discussing radiation therapy, and I dread what the treatment will do to him nearly as much as I
abhor this terrible disease.
Nonetheless, I am sincerely hoping you will make a praxinoscope with cowboys for Joey, something small enough he
could hold in his hand. It would bring Joey happiness beyond measure. Little moments of joy and unbridled love are all I
have left to give my son.
Thank you, Mister Silver, for reading this letter and for your consideration. Of course, I will happily pay whatever
cost you deem appropriate and fair for the ornament.
With appreciation and hope,
Erika Esposito
 Chapter One

May
Sherwood, Oregon

With careful, precise strokes, Sam Silver used an engraving pen to score a pattern of holly and ivy in a silver star.
Softly, he blew away the flaking curls of silver and examined his work, then pushed the glasses he wore up on his nose
and continued etching the pattern he could see in his mind onto what would become a Christmas ornament.
Six years ago, he would never have envisioned himself creating heirloom Christmas ornaments in the building that was
once a carriage house on the property that had been in his family for more than a hundred years. He wouldn’t have even been
able to picture sitting still long enough to make one ornament, let alone the thousands he had produced in the last five years.
Athletic, impatient, and always on the go, Sam had mistakenly thought he had the world on a string, with all the time he
needed ahead of him to grow up, get married, and start a family.
Then, in an unexpected, unforgettable moment, his life flipped upside down. No longer was he athletic, impatient, or on
the go. In fact, Sam preferred to sidestep other humans whenever possible.
People stared. They whispered. They held doors and offered sympathetic looks, which he hated.
Pity was an enemy Sam had no idea how to conquer. But avoidance had become his weapon of choice.
Childish? Perhaps.
Effective? Oh, yes. Most effective.
Thanks to his online store and the order forms internet shoppers could fill out that arrived in his email inbox along with
their payments, he rarely had to see or even speak to people.
As Ornament Guy, his business name, he was one of the top Christmas ornament designers in the country, even if he lived
a humble, quiet, mostly peaceful existence.
The crunch of tires on gravel alerted him to the fact that his peace was about to come to an end.
He continued working as he heard his dog bark and a vehicle door shut, then the door to his workshop creak as it opened.
“Dude! I’ve been trying to call you all morning,” Kutter Hayes, Sam’s cousin and best friend, yelled as he stepped inside.
“Do you ever answer your phone?”
“Not if I can help it.” Sam carefully turned the star as he finished the point of a holly leaf. When it looked as perfect as he
could make it, he set down the engraving pen he held, removed his glasses, and spun the cushioned stool to where he could
stare at his cousin. Kutter often dropped in when he was in town, but now that he was working for a big rodeo stock contractor,
he was on the road far more often than he was home.
When he’d spoken to Kutter last week, his cousin had been on his way to a rodeo in California. Sam hadn’t expected to
see him for a few more weeks, not that he’d begrudge the time spent with him.
Despite looking nothing alike, they’d always been close. Sam enjoyed Kutter’s company, at least most of the time. In their
younger years, they’d had such fun together. Sam had been four when Kutter was born. As an only child, he’d decided Kutter
would do quite nicely as his younger brother and claimed him as such whenever the mood struck. As they’d gotten older, they’d
grown closer, even with their age difference.
After the day that had altered his life, Sam had given a lot of thought to the influence he might have had over Kutter. It was
a good thing Kutter had never been as wild as Sam, and that he had his older sister, Brenda, to keep him in line. Brenda had
given up on trying to guide Sam along the straight and narrow during their teen years. She was a whole year older than he but
had possessed far more wisdom, even during their childhood.
 Kutter walked over to the workbench, picked up Sam’s phone, rolled his eyes to discover it dead, and plugged it into the
charger.
“Come on, man! Work with me just a little on not shutting out the entire world. You forget that Brenda and I will drive all
the way over here to check on you when you don’t answer, then you have to live with the guilt of wasting our precious time.”
“If your time was that precious, you wouldn’t squander it coming to see me,” Sam said, pushing himself up off the stool
with only a small wince of pain. “It’s about time for lunch. You hungry?”
Kutter smirked. “Always. What have you got?”
“Leftover lasagna, frozen pizza, or stuff to make sandwiches.”
Kutter stepped ahead of Sam as he limped toward the door and pulled it open for him. When Sam scowled, Kutter
appeared marginally sheepish, as though he suddenly remembered how much Sam hated anyone performing the courtesy on his
behalf.
“I could trip you on the way out the door if it would make you feel better,” Kutter offered.
Sam took a playful swing at him as he shuffled through the doorway, making Kutter duck and them both laugh.
The warm May sunshine beamed down on them from a brilliant blue sky. It was a beautiful spring day, the kind that made
Sam wish he could pour it into bottles and preserve them for a bleak winter afternoon.
He drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the magnolia tree blooming in the side yard and the lilacs in the backyard.
“Smells like spring. Reminds me of Granny,” Kutter said as he walked around his pickup and opened the driver’s side
door. “I sure miss her and Papa Elliott. Why do you suppose they had to go and die on us only a month apart?”
“Because Papa Elliott couldn’t bear living life without his sweetheart beside him.” Their grandparents had been
wonderful, caring people. Sam knew the door to their home and hearts was open to him anytime he wanted to drop in.
“Granny’s stroke took her slowly, but Papa Elliott’s broken heart was in a hurry to get back to her.”
Kutter nodded and picked up something from his pickup seat, then held it out to Sam.
With a glance down, Sam realized it was his mail. The walk out to the mailbox on the road wasn’t one he enjoyed, but he
forced himself to make it out there almost every day. For his birthday, Brenda and her husband, Brad, had gifted him with a
green mailbox shaped like a barn that matched the barn on the property. Kutter had helped him take down the dented, rusted old
mailbox, install a new white post, and set the barn mailbox on it a few months ago.
The new mailbox was cute, but it didn’t inspire him to want to walk all the way out there any more than he had before.
“Thanks for retrieving this for me,” Sam said as Kutter kept step with him.
His cousin was full of so much energy that it fairly pulsed off him. Sam remembered a time when he’d been the same way.
Now, the only thing pulsing off him, besides an aged-and-old-before-his-time feeling, was a strong stay-away-and-leave-me-
alone vibe.
Thankfully, Kutter chose to ignore it.
Sam’s dog, Leroy, scrambled down the porch steps and rushed out to greet them, tail wagging so hard his whole back end
swayed like a pendulum. Kutter had been the one to bring Leroy to Sam, insisting he needed a companion. The dog was an
Australian cattle dog mixed with goodness only knew what. Kutter had adopted him from a pet rescue facility. From what little
was known about him, Leroy had been a stray someone had picked up on the beach and brought home. The girl, just out of
college, lived in a small apartment that didn’t give the lively dog enough room to work off his energy.
Sam had plenty of space for Leroy to run. When he wasn’t chasing birds or squirrels, or tormenting the owl in the big oak
tree, he enjoyed a rousing game of catch the stick.
It amazed Sam how much joy the dog brought to him. Kutter had been right in that Sam needed the canine’s
companionship, but he would never admit that to his cousin. He’d spend the whole time he was there gloating.
After they both gave Leroy enough attention that he licked their fingers and then loped off behind the barn to find
something to chase, Sam turned to Kutter with a look of challenge.
“Race you to the house.”
Kutter narrowed his gaze. “And what physically impossible feats do you have planned for me if I agree?”
“You hop backward on your left foot.”
Kutter shook his head. “You know I’m still recovering from that stupid bull stomping all over it back in February.”
“Okay. How about your right?”
Kutter turned around and faced Sam. “You’re on.”
Sam watched as Kutter started hopping backward on one foot, laughing as his cousin flailed his arms when he tripped
over the edge of a flower bed. “Those are some moves, Kutter. You show those off on the dance floor?”
Kutter glowered at him but kept hopping. “Very funny, Sam. Why don’t you go with me to one of the rodeo after-parties
and find out.”
“Nope. I don’t need that kind of attention.” Sam decided he might actually beat Kutter if he hustled just a little. He kicked
his limping gait into high gear and made it to the back door ahead of Kutter, but only because his cousin tripped over the garden
hose and sprawled backward across the porch steps.
 “Next time, I’m adding some stipulations of my own for one of your legendary foot races.” Kutter accepted the hand Sam
held out to him and rose to his feet, then followed him inside the house.
It wasn’t yet hot enough to have the air conditioning running, so fresh, fragrant breezes blew through open windows,
scenting the house with the green aroma of spring.
In the kitchen, after washing their hands, Kutter moved back and forth between the stove, counter, and refrigerator while
Sam cut up vegetables for a salad and buttered soft breadsticks after they’d warmed in the oven.
When they sat down to eat, Kutter bowed his head and offered a blessing on the meal. Sam added his “amen,” and they
dove into the food.
The lasagna wasn’t homemade, but it tasted decent. With the fresh salad and warm bread, it made a filling meal.
“This is good stuff, man. Almost as tasty as what Brenda makes.” Kutter shoveled in another bite, then began talking about
his work for the stock contractor based out of Twin Falls, Idaho, his upcoming schedule through July, and his plans to purchase
another mare for the bucking horse stock business he was hoping to build up from scratch.
While Kutter spoke, Sam let his mind drift to the days when he and Kutter used to ride wild broncs just for fun. Everything
had seemed like a game then when he was young and reckless with nary a care in the world.
“What about you?” Kutter asked, drawing Sam from his thoughts and back to the moment.
“What about me?” Sam asked, breaking the last breadstick in half and giving the larger portion to Kutter.
His cousin nodded his thanks, then pointed the breadstick at him. “What are you working on? Do you have any big orders
coming up?”
“I have a few. The star I’m making is one of a dozen that will ship to a family in Virginia for their Christmas tree. The
center of each star will have a family member’s name etched across a banner. I need to make some generic ornaments to have
on hand, and I’ve got an order from a museum in The Dalles that wants me to create three dozen Victorian candle clips, you
know, the kind that holds candles on tree branches.”
“Really? That’s cool.” Kutter shoved the final piece of breadstick in his mouth. “Did you finish that tree stand you were
working on last time I was here?”
Sam nodded. The cast iron stand had been a challenge for him to recreate from a photograph of a German tree stand that
had been used by someone’s long-ago relative in the mid-1800s. Since the customer was willing to pay the price Sam had
asked, he happily took on the work. In the process of creating the piece, he was able to make a mold that he could use to make
tree stands in the future. He thought of asking Jaylyn Smith at Holly Crest Tree Farm if she’d be interested in carrying a few but
decided the price was probably a bit prohibitive for most of her shoppers.
“I appreciated your help with that, man. I’d probably still be trying to finish it if you hadn’t happened along that day.” Sam
never said the words, but he hoped Kutter knew how much he appreciated him and all he did to help. Even if it was just a
phone call to check on him, it brightened Sam’s day to know someone cared. That someone was thinking of him.
Sam knew he was terrible about keeping in touch. He could vow to do better, but he never made promises he wouldn’t
keep. As much as he enjoyed his cousins, he just wouldn’t ever be the one reaching out to them. It was no longer in his nature to
be social and friendly.
Recluse. Grump. Curmudgeon. They were the words more likely to describe him.
“If I’m home and you need help, all you have to do is ask, Sam. Even when I’m not here, Brenda and Brad are always
willing to lend a hand.”
Sam nodded, knowing Kutter spoke the truth. Kutter, his sister, and his brother-in-law would drop everything and come to
his aid if he needed it. Thankfully, he hadn’t needed anyone’s help for a while. There were days he’d wondered if he’d ever be
able to do anything for himself. But that terrible time was in the past, and he planned to keep it there.
“I know, man. Thank you,” Sam said, giving Kutter an appreciative nod, then getting up and retrieving a box of gourmet
cookies and a carton of ice cream.
As soon as Sam set the box on the table, Kutter fished out two cookies.
“These cookies are so good,” Kutter said around the huge bite he took. “I’m starting to think you keep these in hopes I’ll
drop by to visit and eat them all for you.”
Sam chuckled. “Hardly, you pig. I wouldn’t share them at all, but you look like you might wither away if someone doesn’t
feed you.” Kutter was an inch or two shorter than Sam, but he was brawny with wide shoulders, a broad chest, and muscled
legs that looked as solid as tree trunks.
Kutter snorted at the absurdity of Sam’s statement, then choked on the cookie crumbs that he’d apparently inhaled down
his windpipe. He coughed into his napkin, eyes watering, then gulped half a glass of water. “You shouldn’t joke like that, dude.
You might kill someone, you know.”
“Doubtful, but it was entertaining to watch you.” Sam held out another cookie toward Kutter. “How about a repeat
performance?”
“No thanks, but I’ll take the cookie.”
“Glutton,” Sam muttered, and they both chuckled as they ate cookies and ice cream.
 Kutter helped him with the dishes. He was putting away the oven mitts they’d used when he accidentally knocked the mail
off the counter where Sam had left it.
“What’s this?” Kutter asked, holding up a floral envelope addressed to Sam in a decidedly feminine hand. He brought it to
his nose and sniffed, then sniffed again. “She’s blonde, petite, smart, and old-fashioned.”
Sam yanked the envelope from his cousin’s hand. “You can tell all that from sniffing an envelope that likely smells more
like the corn chips the mail carrier snacks on than perfume?”
Kutter wrinkled his nose in disgust and tossed the rest of the mail on the counter. “Who’s the girl?”
“I have no idea,” Sam said, glancing at the unfamiliar return address. “I don’t know anyone named Esposito. Do you?”
Kutter shook his head. “Open it up and see what she has to say.”
Like a proverbial dog with a bone, Kutter wouldn’t let something go once he latched onto an idea. Sam sank onto a chair
at the table, carefully slit open the envelope, and withdrew a letter written in a flowing script that did, in fact, carry a hint of
flowery perfume.
The woman who’d penned the letter had to be one of very few people who still used cursive writing. Was that even
something that was taught in school anymore? Penmanship used to be a thing. He had a feeling it was now just another memory
swallowed by the past.
Kutter moved so he could stand behind Sam’s chair and read over his shoulder.
As Sam read the note, his heart began a rapid descent before it felt like it splattered on the floor beneath his chair. He
rocked back in his seat and felt Kutter’s hand grip his shoulder.
“Oh, man. That poor woman. That poor kid.” Kutter sank onto the chair next to him. “You’ll make the ornament for her,
won’t you?”
Sam was still trying to wrap his head around one so young facing death. He’d faced it when he’d had twenty more years of
living under his belt. Reminders like this one still took him back to the terrifying moments when he had teetered on the
precipice of losing his tenuous hold on life.
“Sam? You’ll do the ornament, won’t you?”
Unable to speak around the lump in his throat, Sam hesitated to agree. He only took on projects he knew he could do and
do well. He had no idea what a praxinoscope was, much less how to make it into a tree ornament.
“Sam?” Kutter gripped his shoulder again. “You wouldn’t seriously tell her no, would you?”
“I don’t know, Kutter,” he replied with honesty. “It will all depend on what this thing is that she wants and if I can create
it. I make ornaments, not work magic.”
Kutter grinned and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Nearly the same thing. After working with Lyra Nicholas on her
Christmas books, you should have an in with Santa since she is the world’s current expert on all things Santa. Maybe he can
send some magic your way.”
After tapping a few keys on his phone, Kutter held it out to Sam. The two of them watched a video of an antique
praxinoscope. The animation device, invented in the late 1870s, used a strip of images placed around the inner surface of a
spinning cylinder. In the center, mirrors reflected the images as a wheel turned. Anyone looking in the mirrors would see the
images in rapid succession, making it seem as though the images were in motion.
“Dude, you can totally make this. I bet there are diagrams or something online.” Kutter pulled up another video, and they
watched it while Sam tried to think through the possibility of recreating the piece in the size of an ornament.
The praxinoscope was something he could construct. He just wasn’t sure he could make it well enough to satisfy his need
for everything he crafted to be as close to perfect as humanly possible.
“I need to think about it before I get back to her.”
Kutter frowned. “But what about the kid, Sam? Do it for him, if for no other reason. He won’t care if it is absolutely
perfect or not.”
Sam scowled, annoyed his cousin knew him so well. “I’ll think about it.”
“You need to do more than think about it. You need to make this. Mrs. Esposito sounds a little desperate, and no one with
a heart beating in their chest could just brush aside her request.” Kutter stood and tucked his phone back into his pocket. “You
might attempt to act otherwise, but there is still a heart beating beneath that crusty exterior, bro.”
“Thanks, I think,” Sam said as he pushed up from the table.
Kutter moved slowly toward the door so he could keep up with him.
“Promise you’ll think about making that thing?”
Sam nodded. “I promise I’ll consider it.”
Kutter grinned. “Good. Stay out of trouble until I can make it back, and for gosh sakes, remember to charge your phone
once in a while. What if you had an emergency?”
“I still have the landline for my business calls.”
“And why didn’t I know this before? It would have saved me driving all the way over here from the ranch.” Then Kutter
winked at him. His cousin was well aware of the landline. Sam knew the man just liked to check up on him from time to time.
 Sam went along with Kutter’s game of feigned ignorance. “But then, who would eat all my food, tell me what I need to do,
and add so much bossiness to my day?”
A chuckle rolled out of Kutter, and he gave Sam a brotherly hug. “Take care, man.”
“You do the same.”
Sam stood in the doorway watching Kutter walk back out to his pickup. Leroy raced up the porch steps and plopped down
at his feet, giving him a happy doggy grin.
With a hand stroking the dog’s head, Sam lifted his other and waved as his cousin left. Leroy followed him inside to the
room Sam used for his office. He turned on the computer, sank into the comfy chair, and couldn’t help a sigh that escaped as he
stretched out his damaged leg. It had been throbbing ever since he’d walked back to the house, but he didn’t want Kutter to
know.
Leroy flopped onto the dog bed Sam kept at the end of his desk and blew out a puff of air before he closed his eyes and
went to sleep, snoring loudly.
Amused by his goofy pet, Sam typed in the word praxinoscope and started diving into the research he’d need to do to
make an educated decision about the ornament.
As he searched, he couldn’t help but think of Mrs. Esposito and her little boy and found himself saying a prayer for both of
them.
 Chapter Two

Portland Children’s Hospital

The soft whir of medical equipment provided the white noise of Erika Esposito’s world and the discordant soundtrack of her
nightmares.
How many nights had she tossed and turned, hearing even in her restless sleep the steady beeps of the monitors that
offered assurance her precious son was still breathing, still alive, still hanging on?
Naively, she’d thought losing her husband was the worst thing she’d ever face. But becoming a widow so unexpectedly
was nothing compared to the nonstop torture of watching her little boy die a little each day.
A year and a half ago, Joey had kept getting one infection after another. He’d become fatigued and pale, and then she’d
noticed the slightest touch seemed to leave bruises on his little arms and legs. After a few tests, his pediatrician delivered the
devastating news that Joey had acute lymphoblastic leukemia. Cancer. A type the doctors assured her had a solid cure rate.
Only Joey wasn’t responding as he should to treatments. Briefly, he would improve, then she’d take him home, and within
a week, sometimes days, he’d be right back in the hospital, which is where he was again.
She closed her eyes, picturing Joey as he’d been on his third birthday, full of energy and life. They’d gone to San Jose to
visit her former in-laws. Her husband, John, had been the youngest of five children born to a boisterous, close-knit Italian
family. Erika had been sure they’d never forgive her for encouraging John to spread his wings and take a job in Portland,
Oregon, eight years ago.
For a while, life had been idyllic. They’d been able to purchase a beautiful home in Lake Oswego. Weekends had been
spent hiking and paddleboarding in the summer and skiing in the winter. Concerts, art shows, and theater performances had
made evening outings special.
When she’d discovered she was pregnant, Erika had known it was time to grow up. Instead of going hiking or shopping
with girlfriends, she’d been content to stay home with her sweet baby boy, dreaming about his future and doing all she could to
be the best mother possible to her son.
She’d quit her job as a brokerage agent at a large downtown firm and taken a stay-at-home job doing data entry. It had
been boring and far below her skill level, but it enabled her to contribute to the household income while remaining with Joey.
Then, in the blink of an eye, it was all over. John had died when Joey was thirteen months old, and life had begun a
downward spiral that only gained speed and intensity instead of stopping.
Erika’s thoughts wandered back to Joey’s third birthday when she and two of John’s sisters along with their youngsters
had visited a water park, eaten lunch at a kid-friendly restaurant, and gone to two museums. As a volunteer spun a wheel to
make it turn, Joey had been mesmerized by an old praxinoscope that showed a horse galloping in the mirrored images. He’d
clapped and begged to see it again and again.
She had no idea what about the machine fascinated him so, but her son had become obsessed not only with praxinoscopes
but also horses, cowboys, and all things western.
For Christmas, she’d gotten him a little cowboy hat and pair of chaps, along with a western shirt. She’d purchased
cowboy boots for him for his birthday last year and had let him wear them to bed every night the first week he had them.
If he was ever able to go home and put them on again, she hoped they’d still fit. Not that Joey had grown any in the past
year. His body was focused on staying alive from one day to the next.
Erika leaned her head back against the recliner where she’d spent most of her time the past several months, beside the bed
in Joey’s hospital room. Oh, the rooms and furniture had changed with each trip home and then back to the hospital, but after the
fourth time, it had all begun to blend.
She turned her head and looked out the window at the blue sky, fluffy white clouds, and a day that practically oozed with
glorious springtime. She could almost hear the birds chirping. Almost smell the flowers blooming. Almost feel the sun
warming her face.
Almost.
If only she didn’t feel as though she were trapped in a perpetual winter, where the landscape was bleak and dying, where
sunlight couldn’t filter through the fog, and where warmth and carefree moments were nothing more than distant memories.
For now, just looking out at a world she couldn’t be part of would have to be enough. She had more important things to
think about, like doing everything she could for her son and finding the toy he asked about nearly every day.
Two weeks ago, after weeks and weeks of searching for a praxinoscope for Joey, she’d stumbled across the website of a
man who went by the ridiculous name of Ornament Guy. Regardless of his absurd business name, it appeared he was a master
craftsman when it came to reproducing and creating heirloom Christmas ornaments. It seemed his specialty was working with
silver, but he had examples of other mediums, from ceramics and resins to various metals, even vintage fabrics and wood.
Although there was nothing on his website to indicate he’d be able to make a praxinoscope, a little voice whispered in her
thoughts that she should at least ask him to try. Erika had learned as she advocated for Joey’s care that questions left unspoken
meant the answer was automatically no.
And no wasn’t an answer she easily accepted.
Erika shifted in the chair, making a mental note to bring the chair pad she’d set out numerous times but always seemed to
forget. When she went home late at night to shower, then sprawled tense and unsleeping in her bed, praying the hospital
wouldn’t call to tell her something had happened to Joey in her absence, the last thing she cared about was grabbing the chair
pad on her way out the door in the morning.
The nurses would basically kick her out of the room if she tried to stay more than one or two nights a week. They insisted
she needed to rest, but how could she? How could she possibly get a restful night of slumber when her little boy could be
drawing his last breath?
Tired of her maudlin thoughts, Erika opened her laptop so she could get in a little work while Joey slept. He napped more
than he was awake, which was both a blessing and a curse. When he wasn’t sleeping, he was bored, anxious, and uncertain,
and he often begged her to take him home.
Determination lent her focus and strength as she worked. An hour later, her neck was stiff, and the lump on the left side of
the chair was making her hip ache, so she stood, left the laptop on the seat, and stretched her arms over her head. What she
wouldn’t give for the freedom to go for a long run to loosen her tight muscles and let the breeze clear her head.
She and John used to go for runs on Saturday mornings, sometimes racing each other, other times keeping an easy pace that
ate up the miles as they had talked about plans and hopes and dreams. Erika had stopped running after John had passed away,
finding other ways to keep in shape that didn’t require leaving Joey.
Like now. She did squats and lunges in the space at the end of Joey’s bed, then executed a series of arm exercises. She
was on her third set when her son yawned and slowly opened his eyes, giving her a sleepy smile that never failed to latch onto
her heart.
“Hey, baby. Did you have a good nap?” she asked, moving around the bed until she could bend over and kiss his cheek.
“Yep. I dreamed about a dog, Mom. He was creamy, like milk, with yellowish splotches and dark ears. Do you think I can
have a dog? It would sure be nice to have one.” Joey gave her such a hopeful look, Erika wanted to promise him not only a dog
but the moon and every single one of the stars.
However, she made it a point to never make a promise she couldn’t keep. The possibility of their having a dog was so
slim, a single sheet of paper held more substantiality than Joey’s wish for a canine friend. One of the volunteers had brought in
a therapy dog that morning. Joey had so enjoyed having Clarabelle, a loveable Great Dane, visit his room that Erika assumed
that was the reason for the out-of-the-blue request.
“A dog would be pretty special to have, baby,” she said, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “But they need room to run
and play, and they need someone there to take care of them. We can’t have pets at our apartment, but even if we could, we
wouldn’t be home often enough to take good care of a dog. As much as I wish we could, we can’t get one right now.”
“But someday?” Joey asked, persistent in his desire to have his own four-legged friend.
Erika leaned forward and kissed his cheek again, then feathered her fingers through his hair. Despite all his treatments, he
hadn’t lost his hair, at least not yet. She knew it was past time for a trim, though. Maybe she’d see about doing that tomorrow.
She’d just need to borrow a pair of scissors from one of the nurses.
Their favorite nurse, Tracy, would be back tomorrow after taking a week off to go on vacation with her husband. The two
of them had planned to stay in a rental house on the beach in Pacific City. Tracy, who had become a friend to Erika, had sent
her a few photos of magnificent sunsets that made her long to experience them for herself. To bury her toes in the sand and drop
her cares in the ocean.
Only, a drive that long would be hard on Joey, even if he weren’t in the hospital.
 Wishing on what wouldn’t and couldn’t be didn’t make things any better. Only harder.
The doctor was talking about starting another treatment next week. Based on Joey’s current condition, it was likely past
time to try something new.
Erika swallowed down a sigh, then looked at Joey. He seemed paler than usual, with dark circles beneath his brown eyes
that were the same shade as hers. That was where their physical similarities ended. Joey was the spitting image of his father,
from his dark brown hair to the shape of his nose, mouth, and chin to several of his mannerisms. She knew from the few photos
she had of John as a little boy that he and Joey looked nearly identical. Only John’s eyes had been gray instead of brown.
Some days, looking at Joey and seeing John looking back at her was a painful reminder of all she’d lost. But most of the
time, being able to see parts of her husband carried on in her son was a gift. A cherished gift.
Which was why she would do anything to help Joey get better. Not only was she desperate for her little boy to be healthy
and well and live a normal life, but she was also equally frantic not to lose the connection she had to John through their son.
“Mom? Can I have some Jello?”
Erika nodded, yanking her thoughts together and smiling at Joey. “What flavor would you like?”
“Strawberry!” He gave her a big smile.
“Strawberry it is,” she said, pleased he seemed more alert than he’d been earlier in the day. “Just give me a minute, and
I’ll see what I can find. Do you want a book to read while I’m gone?”
“Sure.” Joey pointed to the stack on his bedside table. “The horse and the goat story.”
Erika handed her son a book she’d found last week at the hospital’s gift shop about a blind horse and a cranky goat and
their unlikely friendship. Joey, in his love of anything horse or cowboy-related, had been thrilled with not only a new book to
enjoy, but one that included a horse.
She blew him a kiss from the door and then hurried to the nurses’ station. “Hi, Peggy. Joey is asking for strawberry Jello.
Would it be possible to get some for him?”
“You bet. I’ll bring it in shortly, unless you want to take a break and go to the cafeteria. Did you take time for lunch?”
“No. I’m not …”
Peggy walked around the end of the desk, put her hands on Erika’s shoulders, and turned her toward the elevator. “Go get
something to eat. I’ll sit with Joey until you get back.”
“Thanks,” Erika said, realizing she was hungry. In a rush to get back to the hospital, she’d skipped breakfast, and she
couldn’t recall if she’d eaten dinner last night. Likely not. She’d been exhausted when she’d arrived home at half past nine.
She’d worked for three hours before turning off the lights and climbing into bed, then stared at the ceiling, hoping her phone
would remain silent throughout the night.
Rather than take the elevator to the cafeteria, Erika opted for the stairs. It felt good to use muscles that spent far too much
time sitting as she hurried down the steps. In the cafeteria, she got Joey’s Jello and a container of strawberry yogurt, which he
also liked, then purchased a chicken salad with fresh strawberries and crunchy pecans for herself, along with a big cup of
coffee.
Although she wanted to rush right back up to Joey’s room, she forced herself to sit in the cafeteria long enough to eat the
salad and drink half the coffee. The caffeine surging through her veins made her feel more alert, if not more antsy and restless.
She dumped her garbage, tucked a spoon and napkin in the pocket of her jeans, then carried the coffee in one hand and Joey’s
snacks in the other.
Again, she took the stairs, feeling the pull of her leg muscles as she climbed back up them.
She’d just stepped out of the stairwell when her phone buzzed in her pocket. Without a hand free to answer, she rushed
into Joey’s room, grateful to see him reading a book to Peggy. She set her coffee and the snacks on the bedside table, yanked
out her phone, and wondered who could be calling her. By the time she pushed the button to accept the call, the person had hung
up.
With an annoyed glance at her phone, she tossed it on the chair next to her laptop, opened the Jello, and handed her son a
spoon. She had more important things to worry about anyway.
 Chapter Three

Sam glared at his cell phone. He wondered if he should have let it ring a few more times before he disconnected the call.
It had taken him two weeks of research and talking himself into and out of doing the praxinoscope project before he’d
finally concluded he’d give it a try, with the understanding that it might not turn out.
He decided he needed to discuss his plans and concerns with Mrs. Esposito, but he really hated talking to people,
especially strangers. The only thing worse than phone conversations were in-person meetings when he felt like all people
could see were the reminders of his injuries and not who he was.
Then again, the injuries had become part of him, part of his life and his story, whether he liked it or not. Which he most
certainly did not. Not even a little bit.
Regardless, he could almost hear Kutter telling him to stop being a big baby and call the woman. Until he spoke with her,
he wouldn’t start on the project, and he really wanted to.
He’d finally worked up the nerve to call, and no one answered. It was possible he’d dialed the wrong number, or perhaps
Mrs. Esposito was busy with her son, at a doctor’s appointment, or something along those lines.
The thought of her little boy being sick enough to be in the hospital crossed his mind repeatedly. After close to three
months in the hospital when he’d been injured, Sam hated to think of a child there for an extended stay.
He set his phone on his workbench and decided to trek out to the mailbox to get his mail. Outside the workshop, the sun
glowed brightly and warmed the air while birds merrily chirped from the trees around his property. The past month, he’d
become aware of a new feathered guest in his tree. A huge horned owl had taken up residence there.
Sam had named him Woodsy, in reference to the old public service announcements to “give a hoot, don’t pollute” that
featured an owl.
Leroy nearly barked himself hoarse more than one evening when the bird took to the skies, but the dog would have to get
used to the owl with the wide wingspan and golden eyes.
The scent of cinnamon pinks growing in a section of the flower beds out by the lilacs gave the air a delicious fragrance.
Sam breathed deeply as he made his way to the mailbox. He rested there a moment, looking up and down the road. His place
was almost thirty acres, but he rented out twenty acres of pasture to his nearest neighbors. The Wickersham family had four
children, ranging in age from nineteen to six, and had a collection of ragtag animals that would make Old MacDonald quite
proud. They’d needed the extra pasture for the two ponies they’d brought home from an auction two summers ago.
Sam would have let them use the pasture for free since he wasn’t doing anything with it, but they’d insisted on paying.
He’d charged them just enough to not be insulting and accepted the baked goods Kasie Wickersham occasionally dropped off
with gratitude.
The road seemed quiet, which wasn’t unusual. Other than him and the Wickersham family, the only other occupant on this
road was a middle-aged airline pilot who was gone far more than he was home. His place was at the end of the road, and the
only way Sam knew Luke was home was if he happened to see the lights on, shining through the trees at night.
Sam couldn’t complain about his neighbors. They respected his need for distance but had made it known they were there if
he ever needed a hand.
Thankfully, he hadn’t.
He collected his mail, which consisted of four pieces of junk mail, a sales flyer for a furniture store, and two envelopes
addressed to him from previous clients.
Sam whistled to Leroy as he sniffed a trail along the fence across the road. The dog woofed, rushed back to his side, and
together, they made their way back to the workshop.
 Leroy made a beeline for the water bowl Sam kept in the shade of the building, along with a bowl of food. The dog was
crunch-crunching his way through the food as Sam shook his head and returned inside the workshop.
After settling onto his stool with a slight groan, he tossed the junk mail and furniture ad in a recycle box, then opened the
letters.
One was from a client who merely wanted to thank him again for recreating an ornament that had belonged to her great-
grandmother.
The second letter was from a
previous client who wanted to order more candle clips for her Christmas tree.
Sam opened his laptop, pulled up the file on the clips he’d made, created an invoice with a delivery date, and sent it off.
With that completed, he added creating the clips and the date he intended to have them ready to mail to his calendar, then
stared at his cell phone. Should he try calling Mrs. Esposito again?
If he waited until tomorrow, he wasn’t certain he’d talk himself into trying to reach her.
Something about Kutter’s teasing comments when he’d sniffed the envelope she’d mailed, describing her as blonde and
petite, had lodged in Sam’s thoughts. He envisioned the woman as beautiful, young, and desperate. She hadn’t mentioned a
husband, but he assumed she was married, not that it mattered.
Sam was not in any position to think about dating and relationships. Not when his last date had been the night before …
his life had so drastically changed. Sheila had come to the hospital just once to see him. He’d been in a medically induced
coma at the time, but according to Brenda, she’d taken one look at him and left. He’d never heard from her again, which was
for the best anyway. She wasn’t the type of woman to handle problems or issues beyond a broken heel on her shoe or a chip in
her manicure.
No woman would want him now, damaged as he was. He couldn’t begin to imagine any female giving him the time of day
anyway. Not now.
He thought back to his younger years when a teasing smile and oozing charm could get him most anything he wanted. Now,
his smiles more closely resembled grimaces, and the only thing oozing from him was a need for space.
During COVID-19, when social distancing was the order of the day, Sam hadn’t minded at all. In fact, he’d prefer six feet
of space becoming the norm again instead of something that had already faded away. It wasn’t that he was concerned about
germs, but it was prohibitive of strangers getting close enough to study the scars on his arm and the slightly twisted posture he
now bore.
Before recollections of a past better left undisturbed derailed him, he picked up his cell phone, checked Mrs. Esposito’s
number to make sure he had entered it correctly and tried her again.
The phone rang twice before someone answered.
“Hello?” A soft, feminine voice caused goose bumps to break out on his arms while a vision of the woman Kutter had
described once again filled his thoughts.
“Mrs. Esposito? Erika Esposito?” he asked, then cleared his throat, wondering when he’d started croaking like a bloated
frog.
“This is Erika. To whom am I speaking?” She sounded like someone who had experience in a professional office setting.
Crisp and articulate speech, a polite but somewhat reserved tone, as though she was waiting to find out the type of scammer
that had acquired her phone number.
“My name is Sam Silver, better known as Ornament Guy.” He paused, hoping she’d recognize the name of his business.
“Oh! Yes! Thank you for getting back to me.” She sounded pleased, even a little excited. “Please hold one moment.”
He heard her say something muffled, presumably to someone in the background, then listened to the sound of clacking, like
footsteps on a tiled floor.
Sam settled more comfortably onto his stool by the workbench and leaned back, waiting for her to return to the call. Only
a moment passed before that honey-smooth voice was back in his ear.
“Sorry about that. I didn’t want Joey to overhear our conversation. I’m so glad you received my letter, Mr. Silver. You did
say Silver, didn’t you? I so appreciate your consideration of what I’m requesting.”
“Call me Sam. I would have gotten back to you sooner, but I wanted to do some research into praxinoscopes before I
discussed this project with you.”
“Are you willing to make the ornament?” she asked in a voice filled with such hope, Sam would have said yes even if
he’d already made up his mind to tell her no.
“I’m willing to try, Mrs. Esposito, but I don’t want you to get your expectations up too high. I’ve never created anything
like this, and trying to scale it down small enough so your son can hold it in his hand adds to the challenge. I will do my best,
but I just want you to be aware it may or may not work.”
“Thank you for being honest with me, Sam. I’m sure whatever you make, Joey will love. I would buy a full-size one if I
could find any for sale that don’t cost an arm and both legs, but they are truly a rare item. I know it would likely be easier to
make a full-size praxinoscope than a smaller one, but Joey needs to be able to hold it, so it can’t weigh much or be unwieldy.”
 “I understand, Erika.” And Sam did. He knew all about feeling weak and helpless and like life wouldn’t go on, locked in
a suspended state of uncertainty.
“You sound like you do. I will pay whatever you ask, but could you give me a ballpark idea of what this will cost?”
“How does a hundred dollars sound?” Sam could have asked ten times that for such a detailed, custom piece, but he
wouldn’t have felt right about it. Besides, this was going to be a challenge for him, and he was actually looking forward to
making it, just to see if he could.
Erika sucked in a gasp, then fell silent for the length of several heartbeats before she released what sounded like a cross
between a laugh and a sob. “I think it sounds like you are taking pity on me, Mr. Silver. Is that what you’d charge any other
customer?”
“It’s what I’m charging you. I don’t have set prices for my custom pieces. It just depends on what it is and who’s asking
for it. And please, call me Sam.”
“Fine, Sam, but if you pull this off, I reserve the right to give you a bonus for a job well done.”
“We’ll see,” he said, smiling as he envisioned her executing successful business deals. He would bet money, if he were a
gambling man, on her working in some sort of corporate setting. Did she still? Or was she struggling to make ends meet while
caring for her son? He knew hospital bills could wipe people out financially.
Thankfully, he’d received a settlement that had covered his bills and given him funds to start over in his new life, but if he
could go back, he’d trade being healthy and whole for every penny he’d ever had.
“How long will it take to make the ornament, Sam?”
Her question was a fair one, but he wondered if her son was running out of time. “I will work as fast as I can, Erika, but I
do have some orders that came in before yours. It will likely take about a month. Will that be …” He hesitated before he
blurted too late and instead said, “satisfactory?”
“Yes. That will be perfect. Truly, Sam, I am so incredibly thankful to you for being willing to attempt this. I so want Joey
to have this one thing that he loves. Thank you for helping me be able to give it to him.”
“Don’t thank me until I finish this,” Sam said, not wanting the woman’s praise or gratitude when he had yet to create
anything. “I’ll keep you posted on my progress if you like.”
“Yes, please. Text or call anytime. I always have my phone with me.”
“You have my number now too. If you haven’t heard from me in a month, you’re welcome to reach out. I tend to get lost in
my work.”
She laughed then, and the sound winged through the phone connection and straight into his heart. “I totally understand.
Thanks again, Sam. Bye.”
“Bye.” He hung up the phone, wondering if he’d just lost his mind. Not only had he agreed to make an ornament he had no
idea how to create, but he was also feeling things for a woman he’d never met who was likely happily married.
“Get a grip, man!” he chastised himself as he set the phone on his workbench, slid on his glasses, swung the armed lamp
over the project he’d been working on earlier, and tried to lose himself in his craft.
Blonde, petite, smart, old-fashioned, and sweet, he thought as his mind circled around Erika Esposito.
 Chapter Four

“Are you absolutely, positively certain you have time to make ornaments for the gift shop?”
Sam nodded his head and smiled at Jaylyn Smith, the CEO, manager, and often grunt laborer of Holly Crest Tree Farm.
He’d met Jaylyn a few years ago through Lyra Nicholas, an author who had been working on a coffee table Christmas book and
contacted him to use photos of his ornaments in her book. Lyra and Jaylyn had been college roomies and remained good
friends.
Despite Sam’s tendency to avoid meeting new people, he and the two women had struck up an immediate friendship.
When the holiday season rolled around, Sam would drive all the way to Amity, Oregon, where Jaylyn grew the freshest, most
lush, fragrant Christmas trees he’d ever seen, to buy a Noble fir. It was also gratifying to see his ornaments on display in her
gift shop and shoppers commenting on the beauty and craftsmanship of his work.
Sam would bring home the tree, set it up in his living room, and breathe deeply of a scent that filled him with nostalgia.
The tree provided a fabulous background to photograph the new ornaments he would debut the following year on his website.
He brought his thoughts back to the woman in his workshop and her order. “Just tell me when you need the ornaments, and
I’ll get them to you.”
“No later than November fifth, if you’re sure you can work it into your schedule. I know you are always so busy, Sam.”
“I’m sure, Jaylyn. Even if I didn’t have time, I’d make time to create ornaments for your gift shop. Do you want me to
bring an assortment of my choosing, or do you have specific designs in mind?”
“I will happily take whatever you can bring, although I do have a few thoughts. People tend to like ornaments shaped like
a Christmas tree. Can you make a filigree Christmas tree out of silver? Something that looks like intertwined scrolls?”
“Sure. Let me draw a design and see if it’s what you’re thinking.”
Sam spun around on his stool and picked up a pencil and a pad of paper, where he sketched designs before attempting to
make them. He had filled several pages with praxinoscope ideas before he’d begun working on the piece. So far, he’d
discarded his first two attempts, but he thought with the adjustments he had in mind, the third time might just be the charm that
worked.
As he sketched a few ideas, Jaylyn wandered around the workshop, looking at custom ornaments he’d finished and hadn’t
yet shipped and what he called generic ornaments to sell on his website.
“What’s this?” she asked, picking up one of the failed praxinoscopes. He’d fashioned it out of cardboard, determined to
nail down a functioning design before using any expensive materials. Nevertheless, trying to scale down the size to something a
small child could hold in his hand and still have the piece function created a problem he strove to work around.
“It’s a bad reproduction of a praxinoscope.”
“A what’s-it?” Jaylyn asked, grinning at him over her shoulder.
“It was a projector, of sorts, back in the late 1870s. A strip of images would fit around the outside ring, facing the center.
Then, the circle in the middle would have mirrors that reflected the images. When the wheel on top spins, it makes it look like
the images are in motion, at least in theory. I have a client who wanted me to make one but scaled to the size of an ornament.
It’s proving to be a bit of a challenge, but I think I might have finally figured it out. Maybe.”
“You are brilliant when it comes to this stuff, Sam. I have no doubt the client will be completely satisfied with the finished
project.”
“I sure hope so.” Sam held out the sketch pad, and Jaylyn beamed. “The design in the center is exactly what I had in mind,
but the rest are nice too. Maybe you could make an assortment of trees at different price points.”
“That’s totally doable.” Sam offered her a quote for the completed order of five dozen ornaments.
 They shook on it, and then he printed out two copies of a simple contract they both signed.
“Have a great summer, Sam. If I don’t see you before then, I guess I’ll see you in November.” Jaylyn said, taking the
envelope he handed to her to tuck her copy of the contract inside.
“You enjoy your summer too. Anything special planned?” he inquired.
“Nope. Just work and more work. You know how it goes,” she said, but Sam didn’t miss the wistful look on her face,
making him think she wished there were more to her life than work.
“I do know how it goes.” He got up and followed her outside, wondering when the temperature had climbed so high. His
workshop was cool in the summer and warm in the winter, so it was generally a shock to him on hot or freezing days to step
outside into temperatures that felt extreme.
Leroy barked and bounded over to them, a tennis ball in his mouth that he dropped at Sam’s feet.
“Looks like Leroy thinks you need some time out in the sun and heat,” Jaylyn observed as she made her way over to the
snazzy convertible she sometimes drove. Sam had practically drooled over the red 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle with the white
stripe down the hood the first time he’d seen her driving it. He might have proposed to Jaylyn the day she let him take it for a
test drive if he hadn’t been so determined to spend what was left of his life alone. The woman not only owned a cool car, but
she knew how to drive it, which kicked his admiration for her up a few notches, even though he’d liked her from the first time
they’d met.
Back in his old life, he wouldn’t have hesitated, not even for a minute, to ask her on a date, but not now. She probably
would have gone out with him had he bothered to ask, whether out of friendship or pity, but there were no great feelings of
romance between the two of them.
Friendship with Jaylyn was more than enough. Just as he was friends with Lyra, and even Halston Baker, who fashioned
fantastic gingerbread creations. Halston had been another friend he’d met through Lyra. It seemed she’d assembled what she
called the Christmas experts and often contacted them to consult on her own work as well as for others.
Sam had made a tidy sum consulting on various holiday projects that ran the gamut from news articles to old-time
decoration installations. He’d never set out with the intention of becoming one of the foremost authorities in the country when it
came to vintage ornaments, but somehow that was exactly what had happened.
Kutter and Brenda had encouraged him when he’d expressed an interest in trying his hand at crafting heirloom ornaments.
He’d made a few, and Brenda had shown them to friends. The orders had begun to come in. It was during a conversation with
his cousins about the best way to sell his ornaments that Brenda’s husband, Brad, had jokingly said, “Just be the Ornament Guy,
man.”
Kutter had thought it was hilarious, and Brenda hopped on board with it, pointing out the fact that the word ornament was
the same in many languages.
Before Sam quite knew what had happened, he had a website for Ornament Guy, a logo one of Kutter’s friends had
created, and a business registered with the state of Oregon.
For the past five years, Ornament Guy sales had grown, and the business had gained a solid reputation. Great as that was,
Sam often felt less like Sam Silver and more like a persona of a jolly man who loved making ornaments.
The jolly part aside, creating ornaments brought him great pleasure, even if it was one of the generic designs that he made
by the dozens.
“Have a safe drive home, Jaylyn, and thanks for stopping by. I’ll get these ornaments to you as soon as I have them ready.”
“Thanks, Sam. Take good care.” Jaylyn started her car, turned in a tight circle, and left with the rumble of an amazing car
that was a dream to drive.
Sam had thought about using some of the money he’d saved to purchase a sports car, but the last thing he wanted was
anything that might draw attention to himself. A sports car would do exactly that.
Instead, he drove a pickup that was almost seven years old. He’d purchased it new, uncertain how he’d pay for it at the
time, but convinced he’d have no trouble meeting the payments. After his injury and the settlement, he’d been able to pay off the
pickup as well as the few debts he had and then bought the land where he’d enjoyed happy times with his grandparents when he
was a boy.
Leroy picked up the forgotten tennis ball and whined.
Sam smiled at him and held out his hand, taking the slobbery ball and tossing it as hard as he could toward the trees
behind the workshop.
Leroy yipped like a playful puppy and took off after it.
The game continued until Sam’s left leg began to shake from standing on it too long, then he returned to the workshop,
where he washed his hands, took a seat at the worktable, and began his third prototype of the praxinoscope.
Lost in his work, Sam had no idea how many hours had passed when he finally got up and opened the door to a whining
Leroy. A glance at the sky surprised him. Dusk was settling. Apparently, he’d been so intently focused on the praxinoscope he’d
skipped both lunch and dinner, and poor Leroy was likely feeling abandoned.
Several times, Sam had thought about putting a doggy door into his workshop, but he had visions of Leroy accidentally
breaking a custom order.
He had installed a doggy door at the house in the back door that opened into the mudroom, where Leroy had a comfy bed
and a second bowl of food and water dish. At last count, the dog had a bed in the workshop, one in Sam’s office, another in the
mudroom, and one on the porch.
Most of the time, at least when the weather was nice, the crazy pooch preferred to sleep on a patch of grass beneath the
shade of a maple tree in the side yard.
Sam shut off his electric tools, turned off the lights, and closed the door to the workshop. “Come on, Leroy. Let’s head in
for the night.”
The dog woofed and ran ahead, leaping onto the porch and wagging his back end as he waited for Sam to open the door.
Together, they made their way to the kitchen. While Sam’s frozen dinner of Salisbury steak and macaroni and cheese heated in
the microwave, he filled Leroy’s dish with canned dog food in a thick gravy, concluding it looked better than his freezer-burned
meal.
If it hadn’t been so late and he hadn’t been so hungry, he would have made something a bit more palatable, but right now,
he just needed something that resembled food in his body, then he’d take his medication and be ready for bed.
An hour later, after he’d tossed the terrible dinner in the garbage, eaten a peanut butter sandwich with a thick slice of
cheese, and guzzled a glass of milk, he took a shower. Rare were the times he indulged in a long one, but he liked them hot
enough to ease the tension in his muscles.
He climbed between crisp, clean sheets he’d remembered to wash that morning and was grateful he’d taken time once they
were dry to remake the bed.
Weary from a long day of work, he closed his eyes and fell into his dreams.
The next morning, it was still dark out when Sam awakened. He’d always been an early riser, and even more so now that
his leg usually began throbbing around four in the morning.
He rose and made his way down to the room he’d converted to a home gym. He spent an hour doing exercises, several of
which made him wince with the pain and exertion, but he pushed himself to keep going. Sam had always been strong, but he
worked hard to hone his muscles. He knew if his legs ever fully gave out on him, he’d need his upper body strength to pull
himself off the floor. So, he worked to strengthen his core, arms, and back. He worked on his legs, as much as he could
tolerate.
With sweat dripping off him, he returned to his room and showered, shaved, and then dressed in a pair of jeans and a
cotton T-shirt before he went to the kitchen to make his breakfast.
Leroy charged into the room at the sound of Sam banging a skillet on the burner, sliding on the floor in a tangle of legs
before he came to a stop at the refrigerator door.
“You’re spoiled,” Sam said, but he opened the fridge and took out a piece of cooked bacon, tossing it to Leroy.
He fed and watered the dog while his ham and eggs cooked, then he poured a tall glass of orange juice and sat down to
eat. As he enjoyed his breakfast, he read his Bible, his thoughts sticking to a verse from Hebrews about the lame being healed
instead of turned away.
He certainly knew what it was like to be lame. To feel turned away because of it. Not from the Creator, but from others
who couldn’t see past Sam’s infirmities to the person who still needed to feel loved and accepted.
Sam knew he was the reason his parents had sold their home and moved to New Mexico, where his father managed a dude
ranch, and his mother had found a job at an insurance office in the nearest town. The work was similar to what she’d always
done.
His parents hadn’t been able to handle what had happened to him. They’d cried and coddled and nearly driven him insane
in their efforts to shelter and protect him. At first, he hadn’t minded their fussing, but after a few weeks of it, he felt stifled,
trapped, and in need of escape. As their only child, he understood where they came from, even if he didn’t like it.
Thank goodness for Kutter, Brenda, and Brad. They’d been the ones who had encouraged him to crawl out of the hole he’d
buried himself in and return to the land of the living. Because of their support, he’d broached the idea of buying the family farm
from his parents and aunt.
His parents had refused, but Aunt Mary had been all for it. She’d moved to San Diego right after Kutter had graduated
from high school and managed a spa resort there. She’d already turned over the ranch that had belonged to her late husband’s
family to Kutter and Brenda, and she had no intention of returning to the hobby farm where she and Sam’s mother had been
raised.
Sam never knew what his aunt had said to his mother, but his parents had finally agreed to sell him the place, and within a
month, they’d sold their home and moved away. They called every Sunday evening to check in with him and check up on him.
He missed them but knew the separation was a good thing for all their sakes. His parents generally came to visit for a week in
February when things were slow at the dude ranch for his father.
Traveling was more than Sam could endure, so he had yet to see their home near Santa Fe, but they’d done enough video
chats he had a good idea of what it looked like, as well as the dude ranch and even his mom’s office. Christmas was a busy
time for his father, so they tried to make it for Thanksgiving every other year. This year, they were planning to come, and so
was Aunt Mary.
Even though it was only June, Sam was already looking forward to the big Thanksgiving meal they’d enjoy when they
gathered around Brenda and Brad’s table. Brenda was an excellent cook, and he always looked forward to eating anything she
prepared. He hoped his aunt would make the dinner rolls he loved so much, and maybe his mother would be willing to make
her broccoli cheese casserole.
If he wanted, he could have joined his cousins for meals far more often than he allowed himself to. He didn’t want to be
an imposition to them, and it was good for him to fend for himself.
In the past five years, he had learned to cook a dozen things extremely well. Most of his creation were passable, if not
entirely palatable. Leroy certainly never complained when he cooked something that was too terrible to eat. The dog had a
hollow leg and would eat anything Sam fed him.
Sam drained his glass of juice, carried his dishes to the dishwasher and set them inside, tidied the kitchen, and tossed a
load of laundry in the washing machine.
With nothing else to keep him inside the house, he stepped outside and waved to the guys who’d just arrived to mow his
lawn and take care of his flower beds. He’d hired the landscape company the first spring after he’d purchased the house,
knowing lawn care was beyond his physical capabilities. He could have purchased a riding lawn mower, but he was more than
happy to hire someone with a green thumb to do the work. The grass had never been greener, and the flowers were beautiful all
summer long.
Sam, with Leroy right beside him, made his way to the workshop. He opened the door and glanced around as he stepped
inside, realizing the space filled with his tools, supplies, creations, and ideas was a happy place for him. A place where he
never had to be on guard. Where he could relax and let his creativity and thoughts flow.
Although he’d always been good with his hands, could draw reasonably well despite never taking a single art class, and
liked to think outside the box for solutions to problems, it wasn’t until he’d started making ornaments that he had felt as if his
various skills blended in a productive, beautiful way.
“Let’s see if this works, Leroy,” he said to the dog as he took a seat on his stool, picked up the praxinoscope, and gave it a
thorough examination. The cardboard prototype worked as well as a cardboard toy would, so he’d gone ahead and made one
from wood and brass yesterday. The wood still needed to be sanded and stained, and the brass smoothed and polished, but the
basic components were all there.
The dog jumped up, paws on Sam’s leg, as though he were every bit as anxious to see if it worked.
“See, boy, we turn the wheel on top, and the center spins.” Sam gently set the wheel into motion. The inexpensive pieces
of mirrored glass he’d tacked into place spun on the cylinder, reflecting the strip of paper with hand-drawn images he’d slid
inside.
“It works!” Sam exclaimed while Leroy barked and wagged his tail as though he understood. Sam would have declared
that to be a bunch of nonsense, but Leroy was smart, and he was sure sometimes the dog knew exactly what he was saying.
He patted the dog on the head. “Now we can get this thing finished.”
Leroy barked and turned in two circles before he plopped down and stared at Sam.
“Yes, Leroy, you were a great helper.” Sam patted him on the head and scratched behind his ears. “How would I get
anything done without you?”
The dog barked as though assuring him he wouldn’t, then went to flop onto his bed.
Sam began sanding the wood for the base and top until he was convinced not a single splinter possibly remained, and then
he stained it a rich mahogany hue. By the time he added several coats of sealant, the piece would glisten and shine.
He’d ordered some quality pieces of mirrored glass. They were due to arrive any time. As soon as they did, he’d cut them
to size and attach them to the center cylinder, and the praxinoscope would be nearly complete.
Sam had found half a dozen original praxinoscope image strips in an online auction. They’d cost him more than he was
charging Erika for the ornament, but he knew the moment he’d spied them, he had to have them. They were too big for his
project, but he was able to send digital copies of them to a local print shop he used and have them print three strips to scale for
his project. According to the tracking information, they should arrive today.
He hoped Joey and his mother would enjoy the praxinoscope that was more toy than ornament.
His thoughts trailed again to Erika Esposito. Was she married? Single? Divorced?
Not that it mattered.
No female in her right mind would want anything to do with him once they realized he was no longer … whole.
While the stain dried on the praxinoscope, Sam polished the brass, then picked up a beautiful burgundy glass ball. He
ordered the gorgeous balls from a glass blower in Romance, Oregon. Brooke Grundy had a glass studio there, and she
delivered boxes of the balls he then turned into ornate heirloom ornaments.
He studied the ball, the rich color of it, and decided it needed gold accents. As he worked, he turned on the radio and
listened to his favorite station that played country music from the 1990s and early 2000s.
 Carefully, Sam twisted and cut gold wire until the ball was surrounded with delicate flourishes and scrolls. He used a
fine-point gold paint pen to add leaves directly to the ball. The final touch was placing a deep burgundy poinsettia edged in
gold in the center of the ball. He made poinsettias for his ornaments using resin poured into soap molds. The perfect paint, at
least in his opinion, was nail polish. The brushes were just the right size to paint the small pieces, and the paint dried to a hard
finish. He always gave them a coat of sealant so he didn’t worry about the paint chipping. When he finished the ornament, he
added a loop of antique gold double satin ribbon to the ornate holder he’d attached to the top of the ball.
As soon as the glue dried, he’d take a photo of the ornament and post it on his website, then pack the ball in a box, ready
to be shipped.
He carefully set the glass ball ornament into a padded crate, then glanced at the clock on his wall. It was almost noon, so
he whistled to Leroy, who was snoring in his dog bed and made his way to the door.
Leroy beat him there, anxious to go out. The dog barked and raced in circles, expending his pent-up energy. Although he
could get wound up, Leroy seemed to know he needed to be careful around Sam. He never ran close enough to trip him and
generally only put his paws on him if he was already seated.
“You’re a good boy, Leroy,” Sam said, giving the dog’s head a pat, then bending to pick up one of Leroy’s tennis balls. He
drew back his arm and gave it a hefty toss that lobbed it into the trees behind the workshop.
Leroy took off after it like he was in a race against time.
“Crazy mutt,” Sam muttered, then walked to the house.
He ate a salad for lunch, allowed himself to take a fifteen-minute nap, then returned to his workshop, where he filled an
order for more candle tree clips. He heard Leroy barking and went outside to find the dog standing beneath the tree where
Woodsy, the owl, liked to roost.
“Let him sleep, Leroy. He’ll be out and about when it gets dark.”
Leroy offered one more bark at the tree before he marched over to the workshop like he’d done something important.
“Come on, you loony dog. We’ll go see what came in the mail today.” Sam closed the workshop door behind him and
ambled out to the mailbox. The mail carrier honked and waved as he drove past Sam after stopping down the road to deliver
Luke’s mail. The mail delivery generally meant Luke was either coming home soon or already there. Sam would have to look
tonight to see if more lights than usual were on at the neighbor’s house. Luke used timers to keep a few lights on in the
evenings, but Sam didn’t think the man needed to worry about intruders. Strange vehicles rarely ventured down their road, and
if they did, they typically went no further than the Wickersham farm.
Pleased to see everything he’d ordered for the praxinoscope had arrived, Sam wished he could run back to the workshop,
but he settled on a faster-than-normal gait.
He’d already measured the size of the mirrors three times, so he was able to cut them, smooth the edges, and glue them
into place. The strips from the print shop were the perfect size, and he hoped Joey would like those he’d chosen. One was of a
wild bronc bucking and kicking. Another was of a cowboy doing a running mount on his horse. The third was of a cowboy and
his trusty steed chasing a steer and roping it.
Sam gave the wood pieces another coat of stain, hoping he’d be able to apply the sealant the following day and then finish
the piece.
Every day, he sent up a prayer that he’d complete it before it was too late. It had taken him a while to make the miniature
praxinoscope, but he hoped Erika would think it was worth the wait.
Three days later, Sam stood outside a children’s hospital in Portland, wondering what had possessed him to deliver the
praxinoscope in person. When he’d called Erika yesterday to let her know it was finished, she’d sounded distraught. Before he
could explain the reason for his call, she’d told him Joey hadn’t reacted well to his most recent treatment. He’d asked what
hospital they were at, and she told him, then said she’d reach out to him soon before disconnecting the call.
Sam drew in a fortifying breath, not certain he’d be able to breathe once he stepped foot inside. Convinced the smells
would take him right back to his days of recovery, he squared his shoulders and walked inside. The air held a slight medicinal
odor, but it was not as overpowering as he’d anticipated. He asked for Joey’s room number and was told to go up to the third
floor.
There, he checked in at the nurses’ station, gave his name, and stated why he was there.
“Wait right here,” a nurse who looked to be about his age gave him an encouraging smile before she hustled down the
hallway and disappeared inside an open doorway.
Sam glanced down at the red and white candy-striped box in his hands. It was his standard gift box, one that bore a label
with his logo on top of the white lid beneath the red bow he’d tied around the box. Brenda had spent most of one afternoon
years ago teaching him how to tie bows that didn’t look like lopsided disasters. Thanks to her patience, he was able to present
his finished projects in style.
His customers often commented on the sturdy construction of the boxes, which were lined with green velvet that not only
cushioned the ornaments they held but also became part of the keepsake.
“She’ll be right out, Mr. Silver,” the nurse said, drawing Sam’s attention from the box in his hands to the hallway.
 A beautiful, petite blonde woman walked toward him, a look of surprise in her welcoming expression.
Darn that Kutter.
How could he have possibly sniffed the envelope Erika had mailed and known exactly how she looked, how she would
seem?
Astuteness glimmered in her rich brown eyes. A hint of humor clung to her smile. And she did, in fact, exude a certain old-
fashioned aura.
It wasn’t that she was dressed dowdily or in an Edwardian costume.
No. That wasn’t it.
Erika Esposito wore a pale-yellow summery dress that seemed to accentuate her hair hanging in golden waves down to
her shoulders. Instead of sandals, she had on sensible white sneakers. There was nothing fancy or pretentious about her. But
something he couldn’t quite put his finger on made him think she was a woman of strength, one with a strong moral compass,
and a tender heart. She was someone his grandmother would have called a lovely person.
So incredibly lovely.
From where he stood, that seemed to be an understatement. The nearer she drew to him, the prettier she looked. When she
came to a stop a few feet away from where he stood in front of the nurses’ station, he drew in a breath and recognized her soft
floral scent from her letter. A letter he’d tucked into a box and kept on his office desk. How many times in the past month had
he taken it out and read it? More than he cared to count.
“Mr. Silver?” she asked, giving him an observant look that started at his head and ended at his polished cowboy boots. He
was glad he’d put a little effort into dressing that morning, pulling out a summer-weight western shirt, a pair of new jeans, and
boots Kutter had helped him custom order a few years ago that fit him perfectly. After his accident, he feared never being able
to wear boots again.
“Sam?” She gave him a baffled look, like she had no idea why he was at the hospital, requesting permission to see her.
He wasn’t all that certain himself, other than he’d felt compelled to deliver the ornament in person.
“Yep. That’s me, I mean … um … uh … I’m Sam,” he said, feeling like a stuttering moron.
“I’m Erika Esposito.” She reached out a hand to him, and Sam shifted the box so he could shake it. When their palms
connected, Sam felt like someone had poured warm syrup into his veins, and everything around him began to fuzz into the
background while his gaze focused entirely on the enchanting woman holding onto his hand.
 Chapter Five

Erika stood in front of the nurses’ station, clinging to the hand of a stranger but feeling like she’d just met a long-lost friend.
Sam Silver was nothing like she’d envisioned.
For starters, she’d pictured Ornament Guy as a man in his fifties, balding, with bushy eyebrows, a beard, and a gut that
hung over his belt. Like a cross between a hippie and jolly old Saint Nick.
How wrong she’d been.
Sam Silver looked to be somewhere around her age—mid-thirties—with a head full of copper hair she was sure would
shimmer and shine out in the sunlight. He was tall and lean, with a look of strength and purpose about him.
She glanced down at his hand she still held, admiring his long, strong fingers. Her gaze traveled back up to his face. It
might not ever grace the cover of a GQ magazine, but there was a gentleness in his expression and rugged appeal in his
attractive face. Hazel eyes, a blend of blue and green, influenced perhaps by the plaid western shirt he wore of the same hues,
appeared intelligent and interested.
Bless that man’s heart for coming to the hospital dressed like a cowboy. He hadn’t donned a cowboy hat, but he didn’t
need to. He wore the clothes like he was accustomed to a western lifestyle, and she had to wonder what a cowboy was doing
making Christmas ornaments for a living.
Rather than voice her many questions, she studied his face, taking in his long jawline, his straight nose, and the aura of
understanding that flowed from him. She didn’t know how or when, but Sam Silver knew a thing or two about pain.
“Sam. I’m so pleased to meet you.” She gave his hand a final shake, then turned it loose, taking a step back from him when
everything in her shouted for her to take a step forward, to rest against what appeared to be a solid chest. It had been so long
since anyone had held her, comforted her, or loved her.
An ache for all she’d missed since John had died began to throb in the region of her heart, threatening to spill out in tears,
so she blinked them away and forced herself to smile.
She gaped at Sam as he smiled in return, his face transforming from solemn and watchful to youthful and happy. Hastily
concluding he wasn’t as old as she’d originally assumed, she wondered what else about this man might catch her off guard
besides his presence here at the hospital.
When he’d called the other day, Joey had been throwing up, sick from his latest round of treatment. He’d leveled out and
been better yesterday, but she’d been too exhausted from staying by her son’s side to even consider calling Sam back to
apologize for her curt conversation. At the moment, she couldn’t even recall exactly what she’d said to him, but there was no
doubt something along the lines of her being unable to think about anything or anyone but Joey.
With a glance at the festive gift box he held, hope swelled in her heart. He’d finished the praxinoscope. That had to be the
reason he’d shown up at the hospital. Likely, it had been the reason for his call the other day when she feared she’d rudely cut
him off. They’d spoken a few times in the past month as he’d worked on the project, giving her updates. In spite of what he
called failures, her hopes had been buoyed each time he’d called that he was that much closer to succeeding.
And succeed he must have, or he wouldn’t be standing in the hospital with a Christmas gift box held in his hand.
A hand, she just noticed, bearing traces of scars across the back of it. What had he endured? Now wasn’t likely the time to
ask, though.
“Did you finish it?” she asked, feeling like a child on Christmas morning, about to discover her fondest wish had come
true. Not that it ever had during her growing-up years, but John had done his best during their too-brief marriage to make up for
what her childhood had lacked.
“I did,” Sam said, straightening slightly. “Would you like to look at it before you give it to Joey?”
 “No,” she said, taking his hand in hers and tugging him toward her son’s room. “Joey and I will be surprised together.”
“Are you sure? What if you aren’t happy with it?” Sam’s smile had dripped away and been replaced with a concerned
frown. For reasons she couldn’t begin to explain and refused to acknowledge, she wanted to reach up and wipe away the lines
that creased his brow and maybe kiss his cheek. Or his lips. Or …
She drew her thoughts up short and gave herself a mental shake. Not once since John had passed had she felt the slightest
interest in another man. So, why then, had the arrival of Sam Silver made her heart feel like it had suddenly begun beating
again?
As they moved down the hallway, she cast a few covert glances at the man, aware of a slight limp, the way he seemed to
lean more on his right side than the left, but a stiffness in his spine made her think he wouldn’t appreciate questions or pity.
She envisioned a dozen different horrible ways he could have been injured and decided it was best to keep her thoughts to
herself. After all, if he wanted her to know more about him, he’d tell her.
The fact that he’d given her his true name instead of just Ornament Guy, seemed like a step he probably didn’t take with
many of his customers. Erika couldn’t say why, but she got the distinct impression Sam Silver was someone who liked to
remain in the shadows and preferred anonymity to fame. Although, from his website and the accolades posted there, fame
hadn’t avoided him entirely.
It was odd, but in the searches she’d done for Ornament Guy, not a single image of Sam had come up, only his ornaments.
She hadn’t found time to search for Sam by his name but wondered what she’d find if she did.
Maybe it was best to just leave things alone.
Sam hesitated when they reached the door to Joey’s room. “Are you sure you don’t want to look at this first? Or give it to
him yourself?”
“No. I’d very much like for you to meet my son. He’ll be thrilled to see you.”
Sam nodded and quietly followed her into the room.
Erika pasted on a bright smile and walked around the bed, motioning for Sam to approach Joey on the side closest to the
door.
He did, stopping when he stood directly across from her, with Joey on the bed between them. Even though they weren’t
touching, she could feel sparks flying from her to Sam and back. Unable to process, let alone admit to, what was happening, she
brushed her fingers through Joey’s hair. He’d been napping for a while, and she saw no harm in waking him.
“Hey, baby. You have a special visitor here to see you.” She leaned down and kissed Joey’s pale cheek. “Joey. Wake up,
baby.”
Joey yawned and slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Erika with love and hope in his eyes.
“Hi, Mom. I dreamed of my dog again.”
“You did? He must be a pretty special dog.” Erika looked up at Sam and saw the hint of a smile wavering at the corners of
his mouth. “Joey has been dreaming about a dog for a while now. He hopes to have a dog of his own someday.”
“Dogs are good companions,” Sam said, taking a small step closer to the bed. “My dog’s name is Leroy.”
“Leroy?” Joey turned and looked at Sam with interest. It wasn’t often a stranger came to visit. “Is he a good dog?”
“The best.” Sam set the box he held on the table by the bed as though he wanted to get to know Joey before presenting the
gift.
Erika had wondered if he’d toss the gift at Joey and run, but the man didn’t seem to be in a hurry to escape.
“Baby, this is Mr. Silver.”
“Sam,” he said, nodding to Joey. “Is your first name Joseph?”
Joey nodded, making his bangs flop over his forehead. “I’m Joseph Samuel. Is your name Samuel?”
Sam shook his head, and an exaggerated expression of anguish settled on his face. He leaned a little closer to Joey and
lowered his voice into a conspiratorial tone. “I’ll tell you a secret, Joey. My name is Sampson Joseph. When I was in school,
the kids used to tease me and call me Samsonite, like the luggage company. I hated it. So, I just go by Sam.”
“Kids can be mean,” Joey said, and Erika wondered where he’d learned that. Had someone said or done something to hurt
his feelings? The protective mama bear in her felt like roaring, but there was nothing to be done about whatever had happened.
It was possible Joey had picked up that nugget of truth by watching television, but she doubted it. She limited his TV viewing
time and cherry-picked shows that were educational.
Despite his failing health, Joey was advanced for his age, thanks to her diligent efforts in teaching him to read and write
and do simple math problems since they had plenty of hours to fill each day at the hospital. Joey seemed to enjoy learning and
never complained about his lessons.
Erika turned her attention back to Sam and her son. Joey had never had such a look of adoration on his face as he did
when he took in Sam’s western shirt. Her son raised up on one elbow, grabbed the metal bar on the side of the bed, and looked
over the edge.
“You’re a cowboy!”
Sam shook his head. “Not quite. I grew up riding horses and had 4-H projects, but I never earned a living chasing cows.
My cousins have a ranch, though, and I visit them sometimes.”
“Are they cowboys?”
Sam grinned. “They are. My cousin Brenda is the best cowhand in the area. She can out rope everyone.”
Joey’s eyes widened in surprise, and he settled onto his back. Erika pushed the button to raise the head of the bed so he
could sit up and better see Sam. After giving the man a thoughtful study, Joey looked from Sam to Erika.
“Why did Sam come to visit, Mom?”
“Well, baby, I asked him to make something for you. A surprise. Sam was kind enough to not only make it but also bring it
all the way here to you.”
“A surprise. Is it in that box?” Joey pointed to the box Sam had set on the table.
“It is in this box,” Sam said, picking it up and looking at Erika.
She nodded, and he set the box on Joey’s lap.
“I hope you like it, Joey. I made it just for you.”
“For me?” Joey asked as he untied the bow and worked the lid off the box.
Erika watched as her son’s face registered surprise, then excitement. He pulled the praxinoscope from the box.
“No way! Oh! It’s a pixiescope.”
“Indeed, it is,” Erika said, smiling at her son’s mispronunciation but lacking the heart to correct him.
She glanced at Sam to find him watching Joey with something that appeared to be wonder blended with kindness.
He reached out and pointed to an ornate, decorative finial on top of the piece. “You give that a twirl, and it will spin
around.”
Joey made it spin and watched in rapt fascination as it appeared as though a cowboy rode a bucking bronc in the images
reflected in the tiny mirrors.
Erika looked across the bed to catch Sam’s eye and mouthed, “thank you.”
He gave her a single nod but smiled as though he understood how much this ornament would mean to Joey and how much
joy it would give him.
Sam patiently showed Joey how to change the image strips, and they talked about cowboys, horses, and projectors for a
while until Joey’s voice began to sound weak.
Erika took the praxinoscope and set it back inside the velvet-lined box, replaced the lid, and set it on a side table. “You
rest now, baby. When you wake up, you can play with your pixiescope some more.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love it, and you, and Sam too.”
Sam appeared to be at a loss as to what to say. He patted Joey’s shoulder gently and gave him a tender smile before her
son’s eyes drifted close.
Erika kissed Joey’s cheek, then motioned for Sam to follow her from the room.
Sam moved stiffly, and they’d barely made it three steps down the hallway, when he looked like he was about to fall over.
Erika shoved him into a wheelchair someone had left in the hallway even though it was meant for someone much smaller.
Sam’s face turned red, and he looked mortified, but she hunkered down beside the chair. “Are you okay?”
He remained stone-faced, unspeaking for several moments, and she considered calling for one of the nurses to come haul
Mr. Grumpy Pants to the elevator. But she hesitated. Something about the pain in Sam’s eyes made her wait.
Finally, he blew out a sigh and swiped a hand over his face before he met her gaze. “I’m sorry about that. I’m not used to
standing up that long.”
“Not used to …” She swallowed the questions she wanted to voice.
Sam released another long breath. “Six years ago, I had a career I enjoyed as a mechanic, and I made a decent living at it.
I mostly worked on luxury vehicles. One morning, I was under a car, working on it, when the owner waltzed into the shop to
check on the repair progress. He tossed down his cigarette, and the next thing I knew, liquid fire surrounded me. I was on a car
creeper and managed to reach out with my right hand, getting a hold of the side of the car to pull myself free, but my legs were
on fire. By the time they got me out, I was badly burned. I spent three weeks in a medically induced coma and six more weeks
recovering. It took several surgeries and months of therapy before I could take a single step. Because of the severity of my
injuries, there are many things I used to love to do but can’t anymore.”
Sam had survived something tragic and traumatizing. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the pain he’d endured. The terror
he must have felt. She placed her hand over his as it rested on his thigh and gave it a light squeeze.
“I’m so sorry you had to go through such a terrible experience, Sam. Is that how you got interested in making ornaments?”
He nodded, appearing relieved for a change in topic from his injuries. “My cousins, the ones who own the ranch, brought
me a variety of books to read while I recuperated. One was a book with pictures of antique Christmas ornaments. I don’t know
why they fascinated me, but they did. Still do. I decided to try making a few. My cousin, Brenda, showed them to her friends,
and the orders began coming in. From there, my business took off.”
Erika grinned. “And Ornament Guy?”
Sam smiled. “Again, my cousins. They were helping me toss around business names, and that one was something of a joke
from Brenda’s husband, but it stuck. I used to have a name and an identity. Now I’m just Ornament Guy.”
“I think you are far more than just Ornament Guy. In fact, I believe you are a very kind, caring man, Sam Silver.” Erika
squeezed his hand again. “The ornament you made for Joey is far, far better than anything I could have dreamed of. Thank you
for making my little boy so happy. He gets so few moments of joy, and it will bring many to him. I still can’t believe you were
not only able to make it but also create one that looks like a museum-quality piece. It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. It took a bit of trial and error, but I’m glad I finally figured it out. If you want more strips to go inside it, I can
have more printed. I couldn’t find more cowboy designs, but there are some other options.”
“That’s kind of you to offer. I have a feeling Joey will be completely thrilled with the cowboy theme, but if that changes,
I’ll let you know. Truly, Sam, I can’t begin to thank you enough for making that for him. It’s something we’ll always treasure.”
“You’re most welcome. And thank you for listening to my tale of woe.” He appeared embarrassed as he pushed himself
out of the too-small chair, seeming to be steady on his feet once again. “I don’t usually share that with anyone.”
“I’m glad you told me.” Erika squeezed his hand between hers and didn’t let go as she walked with him past the nurses’
station to the elevator. “I’m so grateful I got to meet you in person, Sam. Thank you for delivering Joey’s gift.”
“I was happy to do it. Be sure you let me know if you need more image strips.”
“I will.” Erika watched as Sam stepped onto the elevator and remained staring at the door even after it closed.
Nothing had prepared her for meeting Sam Silver. She certainly hadn’t expected meeting him to jump-start her heart. The
ache in her chest made it clear the broken, shattered organ was finally thumping back to life.
 Chapter Six

“You are yanking my chain.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shifted the phone to his other ear. “I’m not yanking anything, Kutter. You were right about her
when you sniffed the envelope like a weirdo. Erika is gorgeous. Blonde. Petite. Smart. Sweet. And yeah, a little old-fashioned,
maybe, but not in an odd way. More of a way that says she has manners and class.”
“Then ask her out, you big dummy.”
Sam scowled even though his cousin couldn’t see him. “Right. Just drive to the hospital. Ask her out. Then make it all
awkward and incredibly uncomfortable when I find out she’s married. What am I doing, Kutter? She has a son with cancer. She
likely has a husband. Besides, she probably thinks I’m a wimp because I almost did a face-plant in the hallway after standing
by Joey’s bed for so long. To make the situation even worse, after she helped me into a child-sized wheelchair that made my
backside feel like it had been pinched in a vise, I blabbed about the fire.”
“Sam! You need to stop projecting your thoughts onto others. She probably didn’t think anything of it. It’s good you told
her what happened to you since you guard that story like it should be locked away in a vault somewhere. Despite what you
think, you’re pretty dang inspiring. When people learn what happened to you and see how you’ve rebuilt a successful life for
yourself, it gives others hope.”
Sam hadn’t thought about his life in those terms. He was usually too focused on the “can no longer dos” to pay much
attention to his accomplishments. Perhaps Kutter was right and he needed to shift his perspective a little. Or a lot.
He heard Kutter honk his horn and shout a few threats before his cousin returned to the call.
“Idiot driver,” Kutter groused.
“What happened?”
“Some doofus playing on his phone crossed the center line and almost ran into me. You’d think they could see a semi
pulling a trailer full of livestock. The horn got his attention though.”
Sam grinned. “I’m sure it did. Probably gave him enough of a scare he put his phone down.”
“He dropped it on his seat. Maybe it will stay there while he’s driving.”
Sam could picture Kutter giving the driver his meanest “I’m coming after you” scowl, which never failed to be
intimidating.
“So, back to the hospital hottie. Erika.” Kutter’s voice held a hint of humor. “Was she wearing a ring?”
“No.” Sam had checked. Then checked again. “No jewelry on either hand. Maybe it’s a hospital rule, and her wedding
ring was tucked away safely at home with her husband and other kids.”
“You won’t know unless you ask her. She still has to pay you, right?”
“She doesn’t have to pay me. I’m happy to consider the praxinoscope a gift, but I have a feeling she’ll insist on paying for
it.”
“Well, when she does, ask her a few well-placed prying questions to find out the answers you need. It’s not that hard,
Sam. Just say something like, ‘What does your husband do for a living?’ Or ‘Is your husband at home with your other children?’
See? Easy.”
“For you, Mister Gift of Gab. You know I’m not good with people anymore.”
Kutter sighed. “Only because you’ve decided you don’t want to be. Who do you think taught me how to talk to people and
put them at ease? You, Sam. You did. So, use some of those lessons on yourself.” Kutter’s horn tooted again. “Argh! The
drivers here are the worst. I’d better go but don’t forget about coming to the rodeo in two weeks. If you need more tickets to
bring a certain someone and her son with you, let me know.”
 “I won’t forget about the rodeo, and thank you for the offer. Be careful out there, bro.”
“I will. Later, dude.”
Sam disconnected the call, set his phone aside, and returned to the project he was working on. Using a small water
balloon as a base, he was twisting strands of silver to look like entwined loops that met in the center of six tiny medallions that
were also formed from silver. The metal was soft now, but once he popped the balloon and hardened the silver, the ornament
should last several generations.
As he worked, he thought about Kutter, the rodeo, Erika, and Joey. He wondered if Joey had ever been to a rodeo. If not,
he was certain it was something the little boy would enjoy. The question would be if he could attend. Would the doctor clear
him to go? Would there be too many germs floating around that he might catch? Would Erika even be interested?
Kutter’s suggestion, or orders, to call Erika echoed in his thoughts as he finished the ornament, then started on another.
This order was for a set of two bells hanging together from a fluffy bow. The customer wanted the base of the bells to be
peacock blue. Sam had already formed the bells out of bronze. He primed the outside of the bells, then painted them.
While the paint dried, he began working on the ornate design made from copper that would go on top of the bells. A
swirling vine pattern would cover the bells, with the teal color peeking through between the vines that ended with a decorative
leaf band along the top and bottom edge. Broader leaves narrowed at the top of the bell where he added a small finial with a
loop. Velvet cords in a rich shade of blue tied the bells together, then a blue ribbon edged in copper was tied at the top with a
copper hook from which the bells would hang.
It was well past time for lunch when he finished the copper design for the bells and set out the clappers to insert inside the
bells later.
Hungry and ready for a break, Sam opened the workshop door and nearly tripped over Leroy as the dog sprawled across
the step.
“Hey, boy. Let’s get in out of this heat and have some lunch.” Sam would have given Leroy a pat, but at the word lunch, the
dog jumped up and raced to the house, running around back to his doggy door.
A chuckle rolled out of Sam at Leroy’s antics. He knew the canine would be sitting by his empty food dish, waiting for
Sam to fill it up.
After feeding and watering Leroy, Sam reviewed the options in his refrigerator and ended up eating slices of leftover
brisket with cheese, olives, a handful of nuts, and a dozen cherries from a basket the Wickersham tribe had brought over
yesterday while he’d been at the hospital making a fool of himself.
Or not, if Kutter could be believed. Not that his cousin would tell him anything but the truth, but that voice in Sam’s
thoughts that pointed out each and every one of his flaws mocked him that he’d looked like a helpless invalid in front of a
woman he desperately had wanted to impress.
Uncertain of what to do where Erika Esposito was concerned, Sam decided to wait a few days before he did anything
rash.
That night, after a long day of work, he tried to sleep in his comfortable bed but found his thoughts keeping him wide
awake. He had a feeling he wouldn’t get any rest until he talked to Erika.
The next morning, Sam pulled into the visitor’s parking area at the hospital and sat with both hands on the steering wheel,
debating driving straight home without walking inside.
“Stop being a dolt,” the voice in his head taunted. That voice sounded a lot like Kutter’s. Maybe he’d butt-dialed his
cousin, and Kutter had just led with that statement as a way of covering all the typical bases.
Sam pulled his phone from his pocket, only partially relieved to realize no one was on the other end of the line.
“You can do this,” he said by way of a pep talk.
He checked his image in the rearview mirror, smoothing a hand over his freshly shaven cheek. Since both Erika and Joey
seemed to appreciate his attire the other day, Sam had chosen his favorite western shirt, a blue paisley print, along with a pair
of pressed jeans and boots. He got out of the pickup, then reached in and retrieved his best cowboy hat, settling it on his head.
He’d stopped on the way to the hospital and purchased a puzzle for Joey and a book for Erika. He thought about bringing
her flowers but thought that might be a little too much like a date and set unrealistic expectations. The biography he’d chosen
instead was one he’d recently read and enjoyed.
With his gifts in hand, he made his way into the hospital and up to the floor he’d visited just a few days ago.
As he walked up to the nurses’ station, the nurse he’d spoken with two days ago looked up and smiled at him. “You’re
back! I’m glad you’re here, Ornament Guy. Erika showed us the ornament you made for Joey.” The nurse stood and walked
around the desk, looped her arm around his, and started down the hallway toward Joey’s room. “I know this is a huge ask, but
would you consider making ornaments for Christmas for our patients? It would be such a special gift for them and mean so
much to their families.”
“Oh, well … I … uh …” Aware he sounded like a skipping record, Sam drew in a deep breath. “Are you looking for
custom designs?”
“No, nothing like what you made Joey. We would happily take whatever you are willing to donate, sir. It will mean
something to the children knowing they were handmade specially for them.”
Sam nodded. “How many ornaments would you need?”
“Around four dozen,” the nurse said, sounding hesitant as she relayed the number. “I know that’s a lot, but like I said, they
don’t have to be anything fancy. We checked out your online store. The bells, or the silver trees, anything would be
appreciated.”
“As long as I can bring an assortment and none of them are custom pieces, I should be able to do that. When do you need
them?”
“If we could have them by the twentieth of December, that would be wonderful. Will that give you enough time?” she
asked as they reached the door to Joey’s room.
“That will be fine.” He glanced at the nurse’s nametag. “Tracy. Thank you for asking.”
“No. Thank you for being willing to bring a little holiday joy to our patients.” She patted his arm, then marched back
down the hall to the nurses’ station.
Sam drew in a deep breath, then tapped twice on the doorframe.
Joey was sitting up in bed, looking better than he had two days ago, working on what appeared to be a school workbook,
while Erika stood at the window gazing outside at the bright summer day.
At the sound of his knock, Erika turned and smiled at him with an expression of welcome.
“Sam! We didn’t expect to see you back here,” she said, hurrying around the bed. She squeezed his hand between hers and
smiled with such warmth that Sam felt slightly overheated. “What brings you back to the hospital?”
Before he could answer, her mouth dropped open, and she spun away from him, retrieving her purse from beneath a table.
“I forgot to pay you. I’m so sorry. I meant to do that yesterday.”
“It’s not about the payment, Erika. Not at all.” Sam walked over to stand beside Joey’s bed. “Do you like puzzles?”
“Yeah,” Joey said, glancing up at him with his mother’s brown eyes, even if that was the only resemblance to her that Sam
could see.
“How about a puzzle with some horses, sheep, and a fawn?”
“Really? For me?” Joey asked as Sam set the puzzle on the bed.
“For you.” Sam smiled at the little boy.
Joey picked up the puzzle, looked at the picture on the front, then hugged the box to his chest. “Thank you, Sam.”
“You’re welcome, Joey. Are you feeling better today?”
“Yes! I might get to go home soon.”
Relief swept over Sam. “That is great news, Joey. I’m happy for you.”
“Me too!” Joey pointed to his praxinoscope where it sat on the table by his bed. “I love my pixiescope. Thank you for
making it.”
“You’re most welcome, Joey. I hope it brings you joy for a long, long time.”
“It will!”
“He has hardly let it out of his grasp,” Erika said, giving Sam a second smile that made the room begin to feel tropical.
Before he did something stupid, like lean across the bed and kiss her, he held the book out to her.
“What’s this?” she asked, taking the book and glancing from the cover to him.
“I thought you might enjoy it. I read it last month. It was pretty good, although it bogged down a bit between chapters nine
and twelve.”
“Good to know, and thank you,” Erika said, setting the book to the side, then motioning for Sam to join her in the hallway.
“I’m going to talk to Sam for just a minute, baby. Keep working on those math problems.”
“I will, Mom.”
Joey picked up his pencil again and returned to his workbook.
Sam moved into the hallway with Erika, hoping he hadn’t done something to offend or upset her.
She placed her hand on his arm again and looked up at him with moisture shimmering in her mesmerizing eyes. “I can’t
thank you enough for making the ornament for Joey. He is over the moon about it. Every nurse on this floor and all the doctors
have seen it, and they were so impressed by your craftsmanship and the fact that you brought it to my son. Thank you for being
so kind.”
Her arms wrapped around him, and she gave him a hug. It had been a long, long time since a female who wasn’t related to
him had hugged him and it felt … wonderful.
“My pleasure, Erika,” he said softly, returning her hug, pondering how long he could hold her before she assumed he was
some sort of sicko and called for help. Before that happened, he loosened his hold, and she took a step back, brushing at the
few tears she hadn’t been able to hold back.
She drew in a shaky breath, then another. “Did Tracy ask you about making ornaments for the children?”
He smiled. “She did.”
Erika grinned. “I hope you don’t feel pressured into it. I’m sure you have a stockpile of orders to create—speaking of
which, I really need to pay you. Will you take a check, or do you have a way to process credit cards?”
“Either is fine, but that isn’t why I’m here.” He clasped her hand in his before she could rush back into Joey’s room.
She stopped and studied his face a moment, then led the way up the hallway to a waiting room he hadn’t noticed. It was
small, with only six chairs packed tightly together, but he was grateful to sit. He started to brush a hand over his head, as he
tended to do when he was nervous and recalled the hat he wore. He removed it and began turning the brim around and around
in his hands.
Erika snatched it from him and settled it on her head. “Think I could pass as a cowgirl?”
Any number of visions flashed through his head, all of them guaranteed to get him into trouble. He gave himself a firm
mental shake, then returned his focus to his reason for coming to the hospital.
Instead of the slightly probing questions he’d planned to ask, like where her husband worked and if Joey had siblings, his
mouth and brain had a complete disconnect.
“Are you married?” he blurted, shocked the words had burst free without any preamble.
Erika shook her head. “No. I’m a widow.”
Sam slumped back in his chair. What had this poor woman been through? Losing her husband, and now her son was
fighting to live. It seemed too much for one person to endure, particularly someone who seemed as caring and sweet as Erika.
“I’m so sorry. I … am sorry.”
Erika reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “Thank you. Some days, it seems like it just happened, and other days it
feels like a lifetime ago.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened to your husband?”
“I don’t mind, Sam.” Erika released a long breath. “John and I used to enjoy many outdoor activities. Hiking.
Paddleboarding. Skiing. Ziplining. Skydiving. Then, when I found out Joey was on the way, we stopped. I didn’t want to do
anything that might hurt our baby, and John agreed we needed to start being more careful about what we were doing. After Joey
was born, John returned to the sports we’d enjoyed. He and three friends had gone skiing, and John broke his leg. It wasn’t a
horrible break, just a non-displaced fracture, but three days later, he died from a blood clot. Just like that, he was gone, and I
was a widow with a baby and no idea how to face a future without my husband. When Joey got sick, I sold our house in Lake
Oswego and rented an apartment not far from here. Thank goodness John had a good life insurance policy. It’s been such a help
financially.”
“You’ve been through so much, Erika. I’m sorry you’ve had to walk through so many challenges alone.”
“Oh, I’m not ever alone, but sometimes it’s still hard.” Her expression of an almost smile didn’t hide the pain in her eyes.
“Life can be hard some days and full of joy and light on others.”
She patted his arm. “Spoken like a man who has lived through many of those hard days.”
She settled her hands on her lap, and Sam fought the urge to ask her to touch his arm again. His skin tingled where her
hand had settled on his arm. It was hot enough outside that he’d rolled his shirt sleeves up to almost his elbows. The scars on
his left hand and arm were clearly visible, but the sight of them didn’t bother him as much today as they did yesterday.
“So, it’s just you and Joey?” Sam asked, already knowing the answer to his question.
Erika nodded. “Yes. I don’t remember my parents. I was in the foster system from the time I was three until I was eighteen.
To my knowledge, I have no living relatives. John comes from a big Italian family, and he was the youngest, but they all live in
San Jose. To say they have not dealt well with Joey’s diagnosis is a huge understatement. One of the sisters-in-law is a doctor,
and she insisted on running her own tests, but she found the same results as our doctor. Joey has cancer, and we’re doing the
best we can to get him well again. The last time John’s parents came for a visit, his mother cried for two days while his father
sat around shaking his head, so they went home early. It was a relief for all involved, especially Joey. He barely knows them,
which isn’t anyone’s fault, but it is what it is. I have a feeling that as time goes by, I’ll hear less and less from them.”
“Family can be a blessing or a burden,” Sam said, deciding it might be wise to hold his lips together before anything else
escaped he hadn’t planned to give voice to. His parents viewed him as a burden, and he generally felt the same way about
them. However, Kutter, Brenda, and Brad had been such a blessing to him, always there for him when he needed them most.
“You speak the truth,” Erika said with a sad smile. “What about you? Married? Four kids, a dog, and a minivan?”
Sam laughed at the image that created in his thoughts. “No. Not married. The last woman I dated came to the hospital after
I was burned and never spoke to me again. No kids. Definitely no minivan, but I do have a dog named Leroy.”
“Oh, that’s right. You mentioned him the other day.” She glanced in the direction of Joey’s room and lowered her voice.
“When the day comes that Joey is well and no longer has to return here, I’ll get him a dog. By then, we’ll be ready to move
somewhere besides our small apartment. For now, though, I’d feel terrible adopting a pet when I couldn’t give it the attention it
deserves.”
“That’s wise. Leroy is pretty easygoing, but it does take some time to care for him and make him feel loved.”
Erika nodded. “Thank you for coming today, and for the gifts. It really was so kind of you.”
“You’re welcome. The reason I stopped by, though, has to do with a rodeo.”
“A rodeo?” she frowned as though trying to make sense of what he was saying.
 “Joey obviously loves all things cowboy and connected to the western way of life. There’s a rodeo in two weeks in St.
Paul. It’s a small town south of here, if you aren’t familiar with the area.”
“I’ve heard of it but have never driven through there.”
Sam forced himself to continue before he chickened out. “I was wondering if you and Joey would like to go to the rodeo
with me. My cousin, Kutter, works for the stock contractor, and he can get us tickets. I didn’t know if that’s something you’d
have to ask the doctor about attending or if you’d have any interest at all in going. I just thought Joey might enjoy it, especially
if he’s never been to a rodeo.”
“He hasn’t, and he’d love it. Thank you for suggesting it. I’m not sure I should take him out around crowds in his
compromised state. I would need to discuss this with his medical team. I’m uncertain it would be in his best interest, no matter
how much we’d both enjoy it.” Erika’s gaze tangled with his. “Thank you for inviting us, though.”
“Sure. No problem. If you change your mind and decide you want to go, just give me a call. We’d be sitting with my
cousins and some of Kutter’s friends. Most of them are married with children.”
“Oh. Okay.” Erika seemed surprised Sam wasn’t planning on sitting with a bunch of drunken yahoos.
Stung a bit by what he perceived to be a slight, he pushed himself to his feet. “I’ve kept you long enough. If you don’t
object, I’ll tell Joey goodbye.”
“Of course.” Erika handed him his hat and led the way back to Joey’s room.
Sam settled the hat on his head, smiled at the little boy who looked at him like he was a hero with a flowing cape and
glanced down to see Joey was stuck on a math problem. Math had always been something that came easily to Sam.
He helped Joey with the problem, ruffled the boy’s hair, then gave Erika a glance. “You take good care of your mom, Joey,
and enjoy your pixiescope. I’ll see you around.”
“Thanks, Sam. I’m glad you’re our friend.”
“Me too, Joey.” Sam waved at the boy from the doorway and then stepped into the hall, hoping Erika would follow, but
the only sound around him was his own footsteps echoing off the tiled floor.
As he walked past the nurses’ station, he nodded to Tracy. “I’ll get those ornaments to you after Thanksgiving.”
“Thank you, Ornament Guy!” she called after him.
The elevator ride down to the parking lot gave Sam just enough time to conclude he’d somehow blown things with Erika
before they’d had a chance to even begin.
Disappointed, he drove home to his lonely house and lonely existence, resigned to it always being that way.
 Chapter Seven

“I’m a terrible mother,” Erika muttered under her breath as she pulled into a parking spot at the rodeo venue in St. Paul and
glanced back at Joey.
Her son looked like a normal, excited little boy with bright eyes, color in his cheeks, and his feet unable to stay still in his
antsy state to get out of the SUV and see everything at once.
When Sam had invited her to the rodeo, she’d thought he’d lost his mind. How could she possibly expose Joey to crowds
and dust, heat, and germs?
Yet, when she’d mentioned the invitation to Tracy, her friend had gone straight to Joey’s doctor and medical team. Since
they were releasing him in a few days, convinced his latest round of therapy was helping, they’d decided the lift it would bring
to Joey’s spirits was worth taking a chance on his catching something while he was there.
The day she’d called Sam to take him up on his offer, he’d sounded shocked, then hesitant, before offering a few words
that made it seem like he was pleased and looking forward to seeing them.
“This is the coolest thing ever, Mom!” Joey said, unfastening the buckle on his car seat. He was still tired and without a
lot of energy, but he’d been abuzz all day, knowing that one of his dreams was about to come true that evening. They’d watched
many rodeos on TV, but she had a feeling seeing it in person would be a much different experience. One Joey would likely
never forget.
But if something happened to him this evening, she would never, ever forgive herself. She likely wouldn’t forgive Sam,
either, since it had been his idea.
Sam had asked her to text him when she arrived, and he’d take care of the rest. She took out her phone and sent him a
message, letting him know where she’d parked.
Erika had no idea what he’d planned by taking care of the rest, but she’d packed a backpack full of everything Joey could
possibly need, from a fleece blanket and a mask to hopefully filter out some germs, to hand sanitizer, a first aid kit, his
emergency medicine, and healthy snacks.
She could almost hear John’s voice in her thoughts. Quit worrying so much. Everything will be fine and work out just
like it’s supposed to.
That theory had lost all merit when he’d died so suddenly and left her a widow when she’d just been getting comfortable
being a wife.
There were days, like today, when it felt like everything was out of her control and she was helpless to do more than just
hang on tightly during what seemed like an unpredictable, unsettling ride.
Five times, she’d started to call Sam to cancel, but every time she started to push the button to place the call, she could
hear Tracy telling her Joey needed to get outside and enjoy being a little boy.
“Can we look around, Mom?” Joey asked as he got out of his car seat and pressed his nose to the glass of the passenger
window nearest the arena.
“Soon, baby. We’re just waiting for Sam to tell us where to go.”
“I like Sam, Mom. He’s a good guy.”
Erika wanted to agree, but Sam had slipped off the pedestal where she’d placed him when he’d suggested this ludicrous
idea. When he’d come to the hospital the second time, she’d been overjoyed to see him. The sparks that had danced between
the two of them weren’t something she’d imagined. They’d been real, and she’d almost felt the snap of them when she’d
touched his hand or arm.
Sam was thoughtful and kind, generous and caring, and everything she would look for in a man if she were looking. The
problem was that she wasn’t. It was all she could do to hold her head above water and take care of Joey. She had zero time for
herself, so there was even less for a relationship.
Not that Sam had suggested anything like that. All he’d done was invite them to a rodeo, knowing it would be a thrill for
Joey. Perhaps she was reading far too much into what she assumed was an interest in her. He seemed equally as interested in
Joey, or perhaps more so.
If all he was looking for was a date, he wouldn’t have inquired about Joey coming along.
She liked that Sam included her son. Spoke to him like he was a bright boy with potential and dreams instead of acting
like he was a waste of time, as so many men she’d encountered behaved when they realized she had a son, especially if they
discovered Joey was ill.
Erika hadn’t felt any interest in dating since John’s death, but now, considering Sam and this rodeo, she’d perhaps felt a
little slighted that he hadn’t made it sound like a date but an opportunity for Joey.
What kind of selfish monster was she? Nothing was about her, and everything was about Joey, at least until he was cancer-
free, and she’d do well to remember that.
“I truly am a horrible mother,” she whispered to herself, then yelped when a hand tapped on the glass of her window.
She looked up into Sam’s smiling face, and Joey waved at him. Forcing a smile, she rolled down the window.
“How do you want to do this?” she asked. That’s a great way to greet him, she chided herself.
“We’ll stick this on your dashboard,” he said, handing her a parking pass. “That will get us a parking spot much closer
with less walking. Mind if I ride along?”
“Hop in,” she said, unlocking the doors and rolling up the window as Sam limped around the front of her SUV.
Funny, she hardly noticed his limp and wouldn’t have today, but he seemed to be favoring his left leg more than normal.
Not that she’d spent enough time around him to know what normal was for him, but she had a feeling he’d already walked
enough today to make his leg ache.
Sam removed his cowboy hat, got in, gave Joey a big smile, then turned to face her. “If you just drive down over there,
then follow the signs, we should be set.”
Erika almost told Joey to get back in his booster seat and fasten his seat belt, but she decided, for once, just to let him
enjoy the moment without freaking out about his safety.
Joey started asking questions about the horse trailers with names and logos on the sides, and Sam answered each one with
patience and sometimes a bit of humor.
He pointed to a man wearing clown makeup but dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a matching shirt. “That is
Cooper James, rodeo barrelman, goofball, and an all-around great guy. His grandfather’s place isn’t too far from the Hayes
family ranch.”
“That’s the ranch your cousins own?” Erika asked, joining the conversation as she drove slowly past two women leading
horses through the creeping traffic.
“Yep. Kutter and Brenda lost their father when they were young. Their mom is my mom’s sister. Aunt Mary hung onto the
ranch until Brenda got married and took over managing it with her husband. Now, Kutter and Brenda share ownership of it,
although Brenda and Brad do most of the day-to-day work since Kutter is so often on the road.”
“With a stock contractor.” Erika gave Sam a quick glance. “What does that mean? To be a stock contractor?”
“Have you ever been to a rodeo?” Sam asked.
Erika shook her head. “No. I haven’t, but I’ve watched them on TV with Joey.”
“That’s good. So, you know the animals the rodeo athletes ride?”
“Yes. Broncs and bulls, right?”
He grinned. “That’s right. Every rodeo hires a stock company to provide the broncs and bulls, as well as the steers and
calves that are roped. Some rodeos hire more than one company, while others stick with just one, depending on their needs.
Kutter works for the Rockin’ K Rodeo Company out of Twin Falls, Idaho. Kash and Celia Kressley are the owners. Celia is
also a rodeo photographer. If you see a woman with flaming red hair in the arena snapping photos, it’s likely her. Anyway, all
the animals used in a rodeo have to be transported from the headquarters, which, in this case, is in Twin Falls, to wherever the
rodeo is taking place. It requires a lot of driving and manpower to make that happen. Kutter wanted to learn more about the
stock contracting business, and Kash is one of the best, so he was thrilled when Kash hired him. Kash recently agreed to add a
horse Kutter has raised in his string of bucking stock just to see how she does.”
“She? What’s the horse’s name?” Joey asked, leaning over the front seat.
Sam looked at Joey. “Her official name is Ruby Bar Bee, but Kutter calls her Barbie Doll.”
“Barbie Doll?” Joey laughed like it was the silliest name he’d ever heard.
Erika glanced back at her son laughing like a boy his age should be, and felt an unexpected urge to lean across the vehicle
and kiss Sam Silver for bringing her son so much joy. Even if they had to leave right now, it would still be a special moment
Joey would long remember.
Thankfully, they had the whole evening ahead of them, or at least as long as Joey stayed awake and felt good.
 The latest treatment seemed to be working and had given her hope. Then again, they all seemed to work, whether it was
for a day, a week, or a month, before he ended up back in the hospital.
“Turn right there,” Sam said, pointing to an area where vehicles were parked. “Drive to the far end, and we’ll be close to
a gate.”
Erika followed his directions and parked on the end of a row. It wasn’t more than twenty feet to a gate, although it looked
like they were in a restricted area, not where the crowds were standing in line to get in.
“Kutter thought Joey might like a little behind-the-scenes tour. If you have no objection, he’ll give Joey a ride.”
“No objection,” Erika said, although she had plenty. She’d never met Sam’s cousin. Had no idea how responsible he’d be
with her son. Truth be told, she barely knew Sam.
Yet, here she was, trusting him to keep both her and Joey safe during whatever might happen in the next few hours.
Sam took out his phone and sent a text, then pointed to a woman walking by with a little boy dressed identically to the
clown. “That’s Paige, Cooper’s wife, and their son, Alex. He sometimes goes into the arena and helps his dad out with his
act.”
Erika was surprised by how many of those milling around Sam knew, but he seemed to recognize several people, even if
they didn’t see him inside her SUV.
They only waited a few minutes before a cowboy with a square jaw, a wide smile, and dark hair peeking out from beneath
his black hat swaggered toward them. He was incredibly good-looking and made Erika think of someone she’d seen in a
western clothing ad.
Sam opened the door and stepped out, shaking the man’s hand, then engaging in a brotherly back-thumping ritual Erika had
never understood. John had done the same thing with his brothers and close friends.
Sam motioned for Erika to join them. She got out and walked around the SUV, accepting the hand the cowboy held out to
her.
“Erika Esposito, I’d like you to meet my cousin and good friend, Kutter Hayes.”
Kutter swept off his hat as he shook her hand, tipped his head to her in a polite gesture, then tilted his head toward Sam.
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. I don’t know why you want to subject yourself to spending time in this old coot’s presence, but
I’m glad you and your son are here. Are you ready for a tour?”
Erika nodded, aware of the teasing look Kutter tossed at Sam. She opened the back door and lifted out Joey.
He’d insisted on wearing the western outfit she’d purchased for him, but she’d talked him into leaving his chaps at home.
He yanked on his cowboy hat, though, and cocked it at a slight angle, mimicking the way Sam settled his on his head.
“You must be Joey,” Kutter said, grinning at her son. “I’m Kutter, Sam’s cousin and best friend. Do you think you might
like to see some of the horses and bulls?”
“Yes!” Joey wiggled in Erika’s arms. She knew if he got down, he’d run a few steps, then collapse with exhaustion or
exertion, and that would be the end of the outing. The key to success today would be getting Joey to pace himself and not use
his limited store of strength all at once.
“If your mama doesn’t mind, Joey, I thought maybe you’d like to sit up on my shoulders, and I can show you everything.
You’ll have a great view, and that way, nothing can accidentally trample you.”
“Okay!” Joey said, holding his arms out to Kutter in complete trust.
Erika nodded at the cowboy as he removed his hat and handed it to Sam, then gently lifted her son and set him on his
shoulders. He settled a hand on each of Joey’s legs for balance and pointed to the bleachers, where people began filling the
seats.
“I’ll give them a tour, then meet you at your seats,” Kutter said to Sam.
“See you in a bit,” Sam said, then turned to Erika. “Anything you’d like me to take to our seats?”
“Just a backpack for Joey.” She handed Sam the heavily weighted bag.
He swung it over one shoulder and offered her an encouraging smile. “Go on. Kutter is fun to be around, and he’ll show
you things you wouldn’t normally get to see.”
Erika nodded, then hurried to catch up to Kutter Hayes. He was friendly and open, answering Joey’s questions,
introducing Erika and Joey to several people, the names and faces blurring together after they’d met half a dozen of his friends,
and showing them things behind the scenes they wouldn’t otherwise have been able to see.
Joey was enthralled with it all, soaking in the atmosphere, the sounds, the sights, and the aromas.
It was dusty and smelled of manure, but there were also the odors of horses and leather and excitement that filled the air.
For the most part, the people they encountered seemed happy and welcoming. Several of the men joked with Kutter about
finding a long-lost family, but he told her as they watched a huge bull pawing dirt that they’d done some Make-A-Wish tours in
the past, and everyone knew the routine.
Erika hadn’t thought about today’s adventure in those terms, but coming to the rodeo was certainly making a wish come
true for Joey.
She’d waited until yesterday morning to tell him about the planned outing. He’d gotten so excited she feared she’d have to
take him back to the hospital, but he’d taken several deep breaths and calmed down, and they’d discussed how everything
would work.
If Joey knew what to expect, he would do much better than if she just commanded him to blindly follow her. The poor kid
had been through so much she couldn’t blame him for wanting to know everything that was planned so he could prepare for it.
Regardless, she knew Joey would never forget walking behind the bleachers and seeing all the stock or meeting some of
the rodeo stars.
All of them were careful not to shake his hand and spread germs, but they all signed a T-shirt Kutter had snagged from
somewhere that had the St. Paul rodeo logo on the front of it.
By the time they met Willie, one of Kash Kressley’s huge bulls that seemed more like a pet than a beast who would try to
stomp all over a bull rider, she could see Joey was getting tired.
Kutter glanced at her and then up at Joey. “How about we get some snacks, then head for your seats?”
“Okay,” Joey said, looking around with interest as Kutter guided them to a booth selling corn dogs, fries, funnel cakes, and
hamburgers.
The grease-laden food wasn’t something she would normally feed Joey, but it was a special occasion, and she didn’t think
it would hurt anything for him to enjoy an artery-hardening indulgence from time to time.
Erika placed orders for her and Joey, and Kutter ordered a corn dog, a hamburger with fries, and two bottles of water.
When he tried to pay for her food, Erika refused. She already felt beholden to Sam for all he’d done, and she was sure Kutter
had far more important things to do than show her and Joey around, but he’d been patient, never acted like he was in a rush, and
was a great tour guide when it came to showing them behind the scenes in the rodeo world.
Joey looked ready for a nap by the time they reached the seats where Sam waited. Kutter bent over so Sam could lift Joey
off his shoulders. Sam carefully settled her son on a padded cushion next to him.
Kutter handed Sam a red and white boat-shaped paper tray with a thick hamburger and fries. He set a bottle of water on
the other side of Sam, grabbed his hat from where it sat on the bleacher seat in front of Sam, then tipped his head to Erika.
“It was great to meet you, Mrs. Esposito. I hope to see you and Joey again.”
“Call me Erika, and thank you, Kutter. Joey and I won’t forget your kindness today.”
Kutter grinned. “My pleasure, ma’am. Enjoy the rodeo.”
With that, Kutter hustled out of the bleachers while taking a bite out of the corndog and waving the hand holding his water
bottle at someone across the arena.
Erika settled onto the cushion on the other side of Joey, grateful that someone—likely Sam—had thought to provide them,
and saw the backpack she’d sent with him resting like a step beneath Joey’s feet. She handed Joey the corndog she’d ordered
for him, and he dipped the end of it in a paper cup of mustard.
He took a big bite and unwittingly spread mustard around his mouth while his eyes were illuminated with joy.
“Yum!” he said and hurried to dip the corndog into the mustard again and take another bite.
Sam looked over Joey’s head at her, not speaking, but questions were evident in his eyes and his expression. It was as
though she could read his thoughts, knowing he wanted to make sure everything had gone well.
“Kutter is a wonderful tour guide. He introduced so many of his friends, I’ll never keep them all straight. Joey loved
meeting Kash’s bull, Willie. Is he really one of the bulls that bucks off riders?”
Sam nodded and wiped his mouth on his napkin after taking a bite of his hamburger. “Willie is one of the best bulls in the
rodeo circuit and a hard one to ride, but once the rider comes off his back, he won’t try to hurt them. He’s like an overgrown
dog when he’s not in the chute or arena.” He looked down at Joey. “But don’t get too close to him without supervision. He’s
still a big animal that could accidentally hurt you.”
Joey nodded and continued eating his corndog.
Erika couldn’t think of the last time Joey had eaten something that wasn’t healthy. She’d been so focused on feeding him
food to help boost his immune system and keep his digestive health on track she’d lost sight of him being a kid who would
enjoy junk food once in a while.
Sam held out his tray, and Joey snitched a crispy French fry, dunking it in a puddle of ketchup before shoving it in his
mouth.
All too often, he had little to no appetite, so it thrilled her to see him eating with enthusiasm.
Erika found she was hungry as she took a bite of the hamburger she’d ordered, without fries, and wished she’d splurged
on the crispy little pieces of golden, salty potatoes.
When Sam turned his head to speak to someone a few rows behind them, she reached over and snitched two fries, then
held her finger in front of her lips and winked at Joey.
He giggled but kept on eating his corndog.
By the time he drank several sips from the water bottle Erika had bought for him, Joey could hardly keep his eyes open.
“You look like you need a rest, pardner. Just lean against me, and I’ll let you know when it’s time to watch the arena.”
Sam lifted his arm so Joey could rest against his side.
 The way the man so tenderly cared for her son made a lump the size of a baseball lodge in her throat. She took a long
drink of water, willing her emotions to settle, then finished eating her hamburger before gathering her trash and Sam’s and
carrying it down to a garbage can at the bottom of the bleacher steps. She returned to find Sam speaking to a woman who had a
little red-haired boy clinging to her hand and a baby girl on her hip who looked to be about a year old. The baby had
strawberry blonde curls and big blue eyes. Both children were adorable and looked at Sam and Joey with interest.
“Erika Esposito, this is Brylee Price and her children, Carter and Caitlyn.” Sam smiled at Erika, then nodded toward the
arena where two men on horseback, dressed in identical outfits, sat talking as they coiled their ropes. “Her husband and father-
in-law are pickup men. They also work for Kash Kressley.”
Erika knew from watching rodeos that the pickup men had vital roles to play as they helped rodeo athletes get off the
backs of bucking beasts and then guided the animals out of the arena.
“That seems like one of the toughest jobs here,” Erika said, and Brylee nodded.
“It’s nice to meet you, Erika. Sam told us a little about you. It’s wonderful you could be here tonight. I hope you and Joey
have a great time.”
“Thank you,” Erika said, resuming her seat when Brylee and her children settled onto bleacher seats a few rows ahead of
them.
Erika had so much she wanted to say to Sam but couldn’t seem to find the words. Not when she was still uncertain
whether to be furious at him for inviting them to the rodeo and potentially compromising Joey’s fragile health, or grateful
enough to grovel at his feet for making her son so incredibly happy.
Sam continued to introduce her to more people he knew through Kutter as the stands continued to fill around them. Most of
them were married couples, several with children. Even the rodeo barrelman’s wife came with her son and took a seat right in
front of Erika.
The woman was dressed in jeans, dusty boots, and a cotton blouse with ruffled cap sleeves but still managed to look
elegant and put together. She turned around and smiled at Erika, offering her hand.
“Hi. I’m Paige James, and this is my son, Alex. Our boys look like they are maybe close in age.”
Erika shook her hand, immediately liking the woman. “Erika Esposito. Joey is five. How old is Alex?”
“He’s four going on thirty,” Paige said in a teasing tone. Her son looked up at her and grinned with ketchup on his cheek
and his hotdog held in both hands.
“He’s a cutie,” Erika said, not exaggerating in the least. Alex James was tall for his age, and he was a handsome boy with
a charming smile, even with ketchup highlighting his grin.
Paige removed the sunglasses she wore and gave Joey a studying glance before offering Erika a sympathetic smile.
“Kutter told us about Joey. If there is anything we can do to make this evening better for him, please let me know.”
Erika felt that big ball-sized lump lodge right back in her throat. She nodded and blinked away the tears that threatened to
spill over.
Paige slid her sunglasses back on and asked Erika which children’s hospital she took Joey to. Erika discovered Paige and
her business partner held a fundraiser for the hospital each November. Although she’d heard about the gala event last year,
Erika wouldn’t have been able to attend even if she’d wanted to because Joey had been in the hospital at the time.
Sam kept a protective arm around Joey as her son dozed. It was remarkable to her, after being in and out of the hospital so
much, that Joey could sleep anywhere despite the noise going on around him. Perhaps that was a gift.
The man Sam had mentioned was the rodeo barrelman barreled into the stands and swung his son up in his arms, making
the boy giggle. He bent and kissed Paige’s cheek, then removed his hat and nodded to Erika.
“I’m Cooper James, but I see you’ve already met my better half and our little sidekick.” He grinned and cast a glance at
Joey. “If there’s anything we can do for your son, just say the word.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the offer,” she said, smiling at the rodeo clown who oozed vibrant energy. It almost rolled off
him in waves. She wished she could capture some of it to spread over Joey.
As though he sensed her thoughts, her son awakened, saw the man with the clown face standing in front of them, and broke
into a wide grin. “You’re Cooper!”
“I sure am. I bet you are Joey!” Cooper gave him a fist bump and set Alex down beside him. “Did you meet my son?”
Joey shook his head.
“Joey, this is Alex. Alex, this our new friend, Joey.”
“Hi,” the two boys said in unison, grinning at each other.
“I just wanted to come swap howdies,” Cooper said, bending to kiss Paige’s cheek, then removing Alex’s hat and ruffling
his hair. “I’ll be back later, little gators.”
Joey waved as Cooper jogged out of the stands, then leaped over the arena fence.
“He’s impressive,” Erika said to Paige.
The woman turned and shook her head. “He’s something, but I love him to pieces. Just don’t let him talk you into
participating in a dance-off.”
 Her comment made their friends howl with laughter. Erika assumed that referred to a joke with some backstory she didn’t
know, but she smiled, and Joey grinned. If nothing else good happened with their adventure today, Erika felt like she’d met
many nice people. Some, she would even like to know better as friends, but she doubted that would happen since their worlds
didn’t intersect.
She glanced over at Sam and caught him watching her. She shrugged, he grinned, and her heart felt like it did a complete
flip-flop in her chest.
What was she doing? Hanging out with cowboys and dragging Joey to a place full of dust and manure, and goodness only
knew what germs were floating around them.
She looked down at her son, his face aglow with happiness, his smile bigger than she’d seen in a long time, maybe ever.
Perhaps, just this once, throwing caution to the wind wasn’t all bad. Perhaps, occasionally, a body simply needed to have
fun.
When the first horse bucked out the chutes, Joey stood to watch it.
The next thing she knew, he was sitting on Sam’s lap as the man pointed out riders he knew and things to watch for that she
certainly would have missed.
Throughout the evening, Joey alternated between intently watching and resting, but he spent a good part of the time on
Sam’s lap.
Erika wondered if it would make the man’s leg ache, but it seemed he kept Joey on his right thigh, avoiding the left.
With Joey clinging to Sam like moss to a tree, it freed her up to either sulk that her son wanted someone besides her or
engage with the people around her.
Dusting off her rusty social skills, Erika soon engaged in a conversation with Paige James and Brylee Price. She even
took a turn holding Brylee’s baby girl.
Cooper kept the crowd engaged, and when he held a stick horse race between some of the rodeo athletes, Erika joined in
the laughter and cheers at the spectacle it created.
Just before the bull riding, Cooper ran around the arena, lobbing T-shirts and ball caps into the crowd. He tossed one that
landed right in Joey’s lap.
Alex turned around and gave him a high-five. Before the evening ended, Alex and Joey were sitting together, talking about
little boy things, like their favorite dinosaur, if Spiderman or Batman was better, and why God made caterpillars.
Sam appeared amused as he listened to their conversations while keeping one eye on Joey and one on the arena.
When the rodeo came to a close, Joey could hardly keep his eyes open. Sam looked like he wanted to pick him up and
carry him, but Erika could see he was struggling to keep from showing his pain as it was.
“Here’s my business card and personal cell number. Give me a call if you ever want to set up a playdate for the boys. I
think they’d both enjoy it,” Paige said, handing Erika a crisp business card. “I’d enjoy getting to know you better too.”
“I feel the same way, Paige. Thank you. I don’t know when Joey will feel up to another full day of fun, but when he does,
I’ll call.”
Paige smiled, took Alex’s hand in hers, and left with a friendly wave.
Several people Sam and Kutter had introduced her to stopped to say a word of parting. Soon, it was just her, Sam, and a
sleepy Joey left in their section of the bleachers. She could see Sam needed a hand, but both of hers were going to be required
to get Joey back to her vehicle. In fact, she was so turned around after the tour Kutter had given them she had no idea where she
was parked.
“Kutter is coming, if you don’t mind waiting a minute,” Sam said, tucking his phone into his shirt pocket. He brushed a
hand over Joey’s head as the boy leaned against him.
Joey tilted his head back and smiled at Sam.
“Did you have fun, Joey?”
“It was the best day of my life,” the little boy said, making something tight and painful squeeze Erika’s chest. She picked
up Joey and held him as he rested his head on her shoulder. She slung the backpack over the other, ready to leave if she just
knew where to go.
She’d been against coming to the rodeo, and only because Tracy and Joey’s doctors had assured her it would be okay had
she finally relented and agreed to attend.
To hear her sweet boy say it was the best day of his life made her feel like a failure as a parent. She’d known Joey would
have a great time, but it had been so hard to see past her fears of what might happen to allow him to come.
No matter what tomorrow brought, she was glad Joey would have the memories of today.
Memories that were made because of Sam Silver’s kindness.
Before she could say what was in her heart, Kutter arrived with a tall and pretty blonde woman and an attractive dark-
haired man who were clearly a couple. She could see the resemblance between Kutter and the woman and assumed she had to
be his sister.
“Erika, this is my sister, Brenda, and my brother-in-law, Brad.” Kutter made the introduction while pulling Sam up to his
feet.
“It’s lovely to meet you both.” Erika smiled at them but noticed Sam looked from Kutter to her and gave a brief shake of
his head.
Kutter took the backpack from Erika, offered her his arm, and smiled. “May I escort you back to your car?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said, falling into step with him as they walked out of the bleachers.
She saw Brad and Brenda flanking Sam as he took one painful step at a time out of the bleachers. Brad carried the
cushions they’d sat on tucked under one arm.
Kutter pointed to a stock truck in the distance. “See those bulls they’re loading up, Joey?” he asked in an obvious effort to
distract them from Sam.
Erika thought it was sweet that Sam’s cousins were so protective of him. She knew Sam desperately needed to keep his
dignity intact as much as possible. She pretended not to see him struggling to move out of the bleachers. “Tell us again what the
straps are called that they put on the bucking horses.”
Kutter filled the silence with a rundown of rodeo terminology as he walked her back to her SUV. He hovered nearby
while she settled Joey into his seat. She took the backpack from him and tossed it on the floor, then shut the back passenger
door.
“Will he be okay?” Kutter asked, tipping his head toward her vehicle.
“I think so. It’s been a long, long time since he’s had so much excitement, but he loved every minute of it. Thank you,
Kutter, for making time for us, and getting Joey the autographed T-shirt. I’m sure you had better things to do.”
“It was my pleasure, Erika. If I can ever be of assistance, just call. You’ve got my number now.”
Erika had exchanged numbers with him earlier when he’d begun their tour. She glanced back at the arena, but Sam,
Brenda, and Brad had yet to appear. “Will Sam be all right?”
Kutter nodded. “Yeah, he will be. Going up and down steps and doing a lot of walking is brutal on his leg, but you didn’t
hear that from me. He hates for anyone to see him like this, so you’ll have to overlook him trying to put up a good front. He’s
been here since early this morning helping and overdid it, but he was so pleased you and Joey could make it. I hope you both
had a good time.”
“According to Joey, it was the best day of his life,” Erika smiled at Kutter. “Truly, I owe you all a debt of gratitude for
making Joey feel so special today. Thank you.”
“We were happy to do it, Erika. Joey is a great kid. Drive safely back to town and keep in touch.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Night!” Kutter called as he backed away and took off at a jog.
Erika got behind her wheel, hoping Sam wouldn’t be in insufferable pain, and drove home with thoughts of Sam, the
people she’d met, and Joey weighing heavily on her mind.
 Chapter Eight

Erika stood and stretched her arms over her head. She’d been working nonstop while Joey was receiving another treatment.
The one he’d gotten that had given him enough energy and strength to enjoy the rodeo a month ago had worn off a few days
later. He’d slipped into a downward spiral that had left him so weak and lethargic, that he’d hardly eaten and only wanted to
sleep.
The doctor had decided to administer another dose of the same treatment, but Erika hated to see how hard it was on Joey.
She felt so helpless to do anything to assist her son.
Helpless, but not yet hopeless. There were still treatments they hadn’t explored. New clinical trials they’d applied to be
part of. Anything was possible, but right now, today, it seemed like everything was against them.
If she could set aside her concerns about Joey, which was altogether impossible, she’d still feel terrible. She’d meant to
reach out to Sam long before now. To thank him and Kutter for all they had done to give Joey such a special night.
For one evening, he’d been just a five-year-old boy having the time of his life at a summer rodeo.
Despite all her fears and worries about it making Joey sick or taxing his strength, she knew the rodeo and his current state
of health had nothing to do with each other. She’d seen the treatments peak and wane too many times not to recognize the
pattern.
However, Sam didn’t know that. Didn’t know that she didn’t blame him for Joey being back in the hospital. How would
he, since she hadn’t replied to the voicemail or two text messages he’d sent that had gone unanswered?
At first, she’d been angry that Sam had given her son an experience that had, in Joey’s words, been the best day of his life.
Shouldn’t that day, whatever it looked like, have been something she’d provided?
She’d been annoyed, mostly with herself, by the attraction she felt to Sam and the way she’d handled it by basically
ignoring him that night.
Embarrassed by her own thoughts and actions, she tried to recall if she’d been even the least bit friendly or appreciative
to Sam that evening. He probably thought she was a shrew. Did people still say shrew? Whether they did or not, it was how she
felt.
The more time that passed without her making an effort to thank him, the harder it had gotten to think of the appropriate
thing to say, so she hadn’t said anything at all.
The fact that she hadn’t grated against her already raw nerves.
Erika might have been raised in the foster system, but when she was sixteen, she’d fallen in love with a movie that
showcased a genteel way of life, and she’d vowed then to live as graciously as possible.
She’d looked up dozens of ways to live tastefully and beautifully and chose those that spoke to her, like keeping stationery
in a box with paper scented with her perfume. She loved opening the box and getting a whiff of her favorite fragrance.
By watching videos, she’d taught herself the art of flower arranging and how to decorate her home. She dressed modestly,
spoke thoughtfully, and did her best to be a sincere and caring person.
So much for that, she thought with a derisive snort.
Her husband had died, her little boy had been diagnosed with cancer, and she’d had to sell her beautiful home. Nothing in
her world had felt right since John had come home with a broken leg.
Angry at him all over again for being reckless, for wanting the thrill of adventure more than the love of his little family,
she hated that he’d gone off without a thought of the possible consequences. Had he realized he would break his leg, she had no
doubt he still would have gone skiing with his buddies.
She knew it was pointless to be angry. John couldn’t have known any more than she had that he’d get a blood clot that
would kill him.
Still, in those months after Joey had been born, John had begun to grow distant, spending less and less time with her and
their son and more time with his friends. It was as if he’d arrived at a crossroads, one path that would lead to adulthood and
the other that continued the road he’d always trod. Rather than grow up and embrace the responsibilities of fatherhood, he had
proven he wasn’t ready. Maybe he never would have been ready. She could see that now.
John would have always been fun and charming and entertaining to be around, but when it came to raising their son, she
knew he would have let her bear the load of responsibility on her own.
For the first time since John had passed, Erika saw her future with him clearly. Likely, they would have divorced by now.
Not because she didn’t love John. He was an easy man to like, an exciting one to love. It would have been because she’d
stepped into adulthood and motherhood, and John never would have seen the need to change.
Somehow, knowing that, acknowledging that, made her feel better. She wasn’t a boring wife or a party pooper, as he’d
started calling her in those last months before he’d died. She’d simply grown up.
Now, though, what she wouldn’t give for just one carefree day. Even an afternoon to herself without a worry in the world.
That seemed impossible considering the way her worries felt, as though they multiplied by the hour.
A sound at the door drew her attention to it, and she watched as Joey was wheeled into the room. When the bed was
positioned just so, and he was hooked back up to all the monitors and machines, the only one who lingered in the room was
Tracy.
“You need to get away from here for a while, Erika. Go home and shower, and take a few hours to yourself. I’ll stay with
Joey. If anything changes, I’ll call you, but I’m insisting you go. It’s a beautiful summer day out there. Give yourself a little
grace and time to enjoy it. Before you can take care of Joey, you need to take care of you.”
Erika looked at her son. Saw he was sleeping peacefully. He likely would be zonked out for the rest of the afternoon.
Would it be so terrible if she went for a walk or took a nap in her own bed?
“Take a little time for yourself, Erika. You need a break.”
“Okay,” she said, not arguing with her friend. “If you’re sure it will be okay for me to leave.”
“It will be more than okay. I promise I’ll stay close to Joey, and if he starts to wake up, I’ll text you.”
“Thank you,” Erika said, closing her laptop and stuffing it in her computer bag. She gave Tracy a quick hug, then rushed
out the door.
She almost ran down the steps and out into the blinding sunlight. Heat waves danced across the pavement of the parking
lot, but it felt good to her after being cooped up inside. It was generally dark when she left the hospital, and the sun was usually
just beginning to rise when she returned.
For a moment, she stood outside her SUV, face turned up to the sun, and let the heat penetrate down to her bones before
she climbed behind the wheel and drove home.
The first thing she did was take a long shower, something she hadn’t done in months. Showers were fast, not leisurely.
After she got out, she smoothed fragrant lotion over her skin, let her hair air dry, and slipped on a pretty summer dress she
hadn’t worn for two years. After sliding on a pair of dressy wedge sandals, she applied a little makeup, grabbed her purse and
car keys, and decided it was time to face Sam Silver.
She’d never been to his place outside Sherwood, but she had the address on her phone. On the way there, she stopped at a
bakery and bought a dozen chocolate chip cookies as well as a dozen strawberry cheesecake bars. She figured if he didn’t like
one, he might appreciate the other. Sam didn’t strike her as someone particularly picky, so hopefully he’d enjoy both.
Erika checked her phone every few minutes to make sure Tracy hadn’t tried to reach her, then decided if she was truly
going to take an afternoon for herself, she needed to trust her friend, a skilled nurse, as well as the hospital to take good care of
Joey.
When she took the turn onto the road she thought led to Sam’s house, she waved at a group of youngsters riding horses and
having what looked to be a grand afternoon. Then she drove past a green barn-shaped mailbox that matched a barn in the
distance and braked to a stop. Slowly backing up, she checked the numbers on the mailbox post. A match to Sam’s address. She
pulled onto the lane, followed the driveway, and parked near the house.
She got out of the SUV with the two boxes of cookies and started up the walk to the house but stopped. Sam would likely
be in his workshop. He’d mentioned how he spent most of his waking hours there.
Erika balanced the boxes of cookies on one hand and headed toward the workshop. She was almost there when a blur of
light-colored fur shot around the corner of the house, barking as the dog raced up to her.
“Leroy? Is that you?” she asked, allowing the dog to sniff her fingers before she patted his head.
“He’s still working on that whole guard dog gig. If you scratch him behind his ears or offer him bacon, he’ll let you walk
away with whatever you want.”
Erika looked up as Sam stood in the open doorway to his workshop. His tan had deepened, and his hair had lightened,
evidence of extra time he’d spent outside.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him if walking away with whatever she wanted applied to him. At some point since
meeting Sam Silver, she realized she was more than attracted to him. She was falling for him.
Funny way of showing it, her snide inner voice commented.
There were times she wished that voice had a face so she could slap it. Rather than wallop her own cheek, she smiled and
walked over to Sam with Leroy sticking close to her side. She didn’t know if the dog was interested in her or the boxes of
goodies she carried.
“Hi,” Sam said when she stood a few feet away from him. That one little word carried so much emotion. She could feel
his questions. His disappointment. His hesitancy. His hopefulness.
“Hi,” she said softly, wanting to say a hundred things but somehow at a loss for words.
With the sun glinting off Sam’s coppery hair and the fresh breeze blowing around them carrying the scent of the flowers in
bloom, it was hard to focus on anything but this incredible man with his incredibly kind heart.
She’d somehow forgotten, or maybe pushed from her mind, the rugged handsomeness of Sam Silver. The sight of him
made her heart beat a little faster, and her palms feel damp. Or maybe that was the summer heat that had hit the triple digits as
she’d driven out to Sam’s place.
“Is Joey okay?” Sam asked, concern evident in his features as he took a small step toward her, further endearing himself to
her heart.
He could have demanded to know why she was there. Could have questioned why she’d ghosted him for the past month.
Could have told her to leave and never come back. Instead, his first thought had been to ask about Joey.
“He had another treatment today. He’ll sleep for several hours, so Tracy insisted I take a little time away from the
hospital.”
“That’s good.” Sam pushed open the door behind him and motioned for her to enter his domain.
Erika had no idea what to expect as she stepped inside. Part of her had envisioned his workshop looking a little like a
prop from a Santa movie. It was nothing like that, though. There were several pieces of equipment on the far side of the
building. Along the wall nearest the door, a variety of tools hung above a long workbench. The rest of the space was filled with
shelves and tables. One table appeared to be where he packed ornaments for shipping, with supplies neatly organized around
it. Shelves held his red and white candy-striped gift boxes in an assortment of sizes. Another set of shelves held dozens of
books, most of them appearing old. A long, skinny table held rolls of velvet fabric. Plastic storage totes, labeled and tidily
stacked, held trims of lace, ribbons, and flowers.
“Welcome to my boring workshop.” Sam grinned at her. “I bet you envisioned little elves scampering around and the
rafters strung with lights and holly garlands.”
She laughed. “Busted. But this is nice, Sam. Very functional. You’ve done a great job organizing it, making the best use of
the space.”
She set the cookies on the end of the shipping table and walked around the building. Sam explained what each piece of
equipment did, then he opened the door to a huge built-in cabinet in the back of the workshop.
Erika sucked in a delighted gasp as she looked at dozens of ornaments hanging from hooks mounted beneath the shelves
that held even more ornaments. There were bells in several sizes. Delicate glass balls with fragile-looking scrolls of silver
and copper encasing them. Christmas trees that seemed to be spun of silver. Disc-shaped ornaments with little shutters that
opened to reveal vintage Christmas card scenes beneath them. There were a few wooden ornaments. Balls with resin flowers.
Even heart-shaped ornaments made of metal flourishes. The one she liked best, though, was a heart made from an acanthus
pattern Sam had fashioned into a piece of smooth silver and tied at the top with a silk bunch of holly and a fluffy red bow.
“You are such a talented artist, Sam. These ornaments are spectacular.”
“Thank you. It’s something that I truly enjoy doing.” He motioned to the wall by the door. “Want to see what I’m working
on?”
“Yes, please.” She followed him over to the workbench and bent over to study a disc ornament. It was about four inches
in diameter and maybe an inch thick. She had no idea what material he’d used for the disc itself, some type of lightweight
metal, but the front featured a beautiful winter scene of a couple in a sleigh. The outside edges of the piece had resin scrolls
and delicate snowflakes, giving it a three-dimensional effect. He turned it over, and she lightly traced her fingers over the
words, “Will You Marry Me?” painted across the back in a decorative vintage script.
“It’s a custom piece for a December proposal.” Sam showed her a tiny latch. He opened the disc, and she saw a small
silver hinge that held it together. The inside was lined in rich blue velvet. “He can tuck the ring inside here.”
“That is the coolest thing, Sam. So clever. What a precious keepsake that will be, at least if she says yes.”
“I hope after all the work this kid is going to with the proposal, his girl marries him.”
Talking about marriage made Erika feel like she was about to break out in hives.
She wanted to marry again. Someday. Far into the future. When Joey was healthy. When her life was no longer in
shambles. When she no longer experienced waves of guilt washing over her for taking a few hours for herself.
Yeah. Right now, she was at the very bottom of the ladder when it came to marriageable material. Maybe even in a
subterranean level beneath the ladder.
 If she lost what was left of her mind and decided she had any brain space available to fill with thoughts of love and
romance, Sam would have been the one and only choice for her.
Yet she sensed in him the same hesitancy she felt when it came to pursuing a relationship.
He hadn’t said anything, but she got the distinct feeling his limp and scars bothered him far more than they did anyone
else. For the most part, the scars on his left hand and arm weren’t all that noticeable. As for his limp, it seemed as if his leg
was rested, it was barely noticeable.
She’d known he’d been embarrassed the night of the rodeo about needing help to stand, not to mention make it out of the
bleachers.
The sudden thought struck her that Sam might think she’d avoided him because of his injuries, which couldn’t be further
from the truth. She’d ignored him because her life was basically a dumpster fire that just kept on burning.
Suddenly appalled for thinking about a fire analogy, considering what Sam had gone through, Erika felt both horrible and
mortified.
Still, she was a wreck. Her life was a mess, and she didn’t see it changing anytime in the near or even distant future.
“Sam, I need to apologize to you,” she said, deciding she’d better get to the point of her unannounced visit before she ran
out of time and had to return to the hospital.
“You don’t have to apologize for anything. I should apologize for foisting my companionship on you, Erika. I’m no prize, I
know that. About the rodeo, I didn’t … I wasn’t …” He stopped and stared out the window before glancing back at her,
appearing defeated. “I just thought Joey would enjoy it. I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable or for you to think
I expect anything beyond your friendship. However, if being around me bothers you that much, you can leave now and just
pretend we never met.”
Erika gaped at Sam, then gathered her scattered wits.
He’d taken a seat on a padded stool, so she moved to stand directly in front of him until his face was just a few inches
above hers.
“You listen to me, Sampson Joseph Silver. The reason I didn’t get back to you this past month had nothing, absolutely
nothing, to do with you or your injuries or whatever it is you think is so off-putting to people in general and me in particular.
Joey has been in the hospital since the Fourth of July. I’ve been so involved with him, with discussing treatment plans and
options with his medical team and trying to figure out what is best for him while attempting to get in enough work to pay my
bills, that I ignored everything else, including you. The rodeo was probably the happiest day of my son’s life. It was one of the
nicest I’ve had in a long time, and that was all because of you. I like you, Sam. I care about you, but you need to stop being such
an idiot.”
She took another step forward, stopping only when the skirt of her dress brushed against the legs of the work pants he
wore, then gave him her best motherly glower. “For the record, there is nothing wrong with you, Sam, except your perception
of yourself. No one sees you the way you do. You’re a kind, caring, smart, funny, fascinating, talented, and entirely handsome
man. One I find nearly impossible to resist.”
His gaze melded to hers, his eyes as hot as the heat shimmering outside. “Impossible to resist?” he asked in a raspy
whisper.
“Yes,” she said, fixated on his lips and how badly she wanted him to kiss her. For a moment, just one indulgent, delectable
moment, she wanted to feel like a desirable woman again, not just Joey’s mother or John’s widow.
Sam wrapped his right arm around her waist, moved his legs to either side of her, and pulled her so close she could feel
every contour of his hard chest as it pressed against hers.
Unhurried—so achingly, frustratingly, exquisitely unhurried—he lowered his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a
feathery light contact. Twice more, he teased her lips with the barest of touches.
Her hands slid up his shoulders and wrapped behind his neck, and Sam’s kiss went from hesitant to heated. Fully involved
in the ardent exchange, Erika couldn’t think, couldn’t hear, couldn’t do anything except feel how right and good it was to be
held in Sam’s arms. How delicious his kisses tasted, like something sweet and dark.
Sam might not have dated much since his accident, but somewhere along the line, the man had mastered the art of kissing.
He tantalized her mouth with a powerful skill that left her lightheaded and languid.
Erika hated trite cliches, but she had no better way to describe the quivering in her knees, the fizzy sensation in her
stomach, and the absolute yearning in her heart to go on kissing Sam for the rest of her life.
Slowly, in degrees as dawdling as he began the kiss, he edged away from passion into blissful tenderness. When he finally
lifted his head from hers, he kept both arms around her, encircling her with such gentleness, she had never in her life felt so
cared for. So deeply loved.
That depth—that incredible sensation of acceptance and desire—left her both awed and conflicted. She knew she wasn’t
betraying John or his memory. She’d been widowed long enough to move past that.
But what was she doing?
This … attraction between her and Sam couldn’t go anywhere. Regardless of how much she might want it to, she had no
time for anyone or anything in her life beyond Joey. He was her entire world and until he was declared cancer-free, it wasn’t
fair to herself or anyone else to even consider the possibility of romance. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to be a good
friend to anyone anymore.
With a sigh that felt as though it tore free from her soul, she dropped her arms and took a step back.
For a moment, Sam looked as though he was going to reach for her, to pull her back into the enticing circle of his arms
where she felt so safe and protected and cherished.
He gave her a long, observant look, then slowly nodded his head as though he understood. Understood her fears.
Understood her longings. Understood that she had no room in her life now for anyone other than Joey.
Without a word, he nodded a second time.
“I should go,” Erika said quietly, taking a few steps toward the door.
Before she was out of reach, Sam grabbed her hand and tugged. She tumbled across his lap, and he kissed her again.
Kissed her like it was the last one he’d ever allow himself to experience. Erika met his hunger and urgency with her own need
to be loved, her own intense longing to love Sam.
When he raised his head, she trailed her fingers through his coppery hair, memorized the feel of his stubbly cheek against
her palm, then slid off his lap and raced out the door.
Leroy woofed at her and dropped a gnawed-on tennis ball at her feet. She lifted the ball and threw it with all the
disappointment and despair that was surging through her. The dog bounded after the ball, chasing it into the trees behind the
workshop as Erika ran to her SUV. She started it, whipped around, slinging gravel in her wake, and left.
By the time she reached the road, she could no longer hold back the sobs. She cried all the way to the hospital, wondering
how many times and ways a heart could break.
 Chapter Nine

“I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Sam glared at Kutter as his cousin leaned against the workbench like a misplaced post planted firmly in his way.
He reached behind Kutter for a pair of needle-nose pliers so he could bend the curled hook on an ornament. It was the last
one for the box full of ornaments he’d made to donate to the children’s hospital. None were as elaborately crafted as Joey’s
praxinoscope, but each ornament was unique. Sam hoped that would make the recipients feel special.
“Is there an answer that gets you out of my way and my hair?” Sam asked, rising from the workbench and walking over to
take one of the small ornament boxes from the shelf where he kept them. He polished the ornament with a rag he took from his
back pocket, then nestled it inside the box and added it to the large box he’d already packed with the other donations.
Kutter grinned and pushed away from the workbench. “Just agree, and I’ll leave you alone. For now.”
Sam could see Kutter had both his mind and stubborn chin set. It wouldn’t do any good to argue with him. His cousin was
intent on getting his way. Convinced he was helping Sam, Kutter assumed he knew what was best for him. There were times
when Kutter acted like he was older and wiser and treated Sam like an errant child.
When his cousin was in one of those moods, nothing would dissuade him, so Sam decided he might as well give in, and
perhaps Kutter would leave him in peace.
“Fine! I’ll go. Happy now?”
Kutter cracked a grin. “Almost. Do you have something to wear? Brenda said she could raid Brad’s side of the closet if
you need a suit for the gala.”
“I can dress myself, thank you.” Sam glowered at Kutter. “If you want to be helpful, carry that box out to my pickup,
would you?”
Kutter hefted the heavy box. “What’s in here? Bricks and rocks wrapped up in your candy-striped boxes?”
“No. It’s the ornaments I promised to donate to the children’s hospital. If you really want to be a help, you could drop
them off.”
Kutter set the box on the floor in the back seat of the pickup and shut the door, then gave Sam a knowing look. “You can’t
avoid her forever, you know. In case you were wondering, Erika and Joey are back at the hospital.”
At Sam’s incredulous look, Kutter shrugged. “What? She keeps me updated. I let her know you haven’t died … yet.
Although, you’re looking like you could use a few good meals to fatten you up. Brenda keeps inviting you over. Why don’t you
come for dinner tonight?”
“I …” Sam had used every excuse he could think of, some at least three times, to avoid dinner with his family. Kutter and
Brenda had grilled him about what had happened with Erika.
He hadn’t wanted to talk about it in August when she’d walked out of his life. Now that it was November, he was no more
inclined to discuss the way she’d rushed out the door, both knowing they wouldn’t see each other again.
Kissing her had been a colossal mistake. Oh, he’d enjoyed the kisses, for certain. More than any he could ever remember.
The problem was that she’d enjoyed them too.
When they’d kissed—connected—it was all Sam could do not to ask her if she’d consider doing it for the rest of their
lives. He loved Erika. Loved her so intensely and completely that he’d let her go even though it felt like his heart had been
ripped out of his chest and shredded into tiny little pieces.
Erika had more than she could handle with Joey. He’d known from the start she wasn’t interested in a relationship with
anyone. At first, he’d assumed that his scars and limp had turned her off.
However, it seemed he’d been wrong. Unbelievably wrong. Erika didn’t see him as damaged goods. She saw him as a
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 Fig. 219.—Young of Cyclopterus spinosus, from the Arctic Ocean, natural size.
Liparis.—Body sub-cylindrical, enveloped in a more or less loose
naked skin; head broad, obtuse. The infraorbital bone is styliform
posteriorly, extending backwards to the margin of the præoperculum.
One dorsal fin, with feeble flexible rays. Villiform teeth in the jaws,
none on the palate.
Small fishes from the northern coasts of the temperate zone,
ranging beyond the arctic circle. Eight species are known, of which
two (L. lineatus and L. montagui) occur on the British coasts.

Second Family—Gobiidæ.
Body elongate, naked or scaly. Teeth generally small, sometimes
with canines. The spinous dorsal fin, or portion of the dorsal fin, is
the less developed, and composed of flexible spines; anal similarly
developed as the soft dorsal. Sometimes the ventrals are united into
a disk. Gill-opening more or less narrow, the gill-membranes being
attached to the isthmus.
Small carnivorous littoral fishes, many of which have become
acclimatised in fresh water. They are very abundant with regard to
species as well as individuals, and found on or near the coasts of all
temperate and tropical regions. Geologically they appear first in the
chalk.
Gobius.—Body scaly. Two dorsal fins, the anterior generally with
six flexible spines. Ventral fins united, forming a disk which is not
attached to the abdomen. Gill-opening vertical, moderately wide.
 Fig. 220.—Gobius lentiginosus, from New Zealand.
The “Gobies” are distributed over all temperate and tropical
coasts, and abundant, especially on the latter. Nearly three hundred
species have been described. They live especially on rocky coasts,
attaching themselves firmly with their ventrals to a rock in almost any
position, and thus withstanding the force of the waves. Many of the
species seem to delight in darting from place to place in the rush of
water which breaks upon the shore. Others live in quiet brackish
water, and not a few have become entirely acclimatised in fresh
water, especially lakes. The males of some species construct nests
for the eggs, which they jealously watch, and defend even for some
time after the young are hatched. Several species are found on the
British coast: G. niger, paganellus, auratus, minutus, ruthensparri.
Fossil species of this genus have been found at Monte Bolca.
A very small Goby, Latrunculus pellucidus, common in some
localities of the British Islands and other parts of Europe, is
distinguished by its transparent body, wide mouth, and uniserial
dentition. According to R. Collett it offers some very remarkable
peculiarities. It lives one year only, being the first instance of an
annual vertebrate. It spawns in June and July, the eggs are hatched
in August, and the fishes attain their full growth in the months from
October to December. In this stage the sexes are quite alike, both
having very small teeth and feeble jaws. In April the males lose the
small teeth, which are replaced by very long and strong teeth, the
jaws themselves becoming stronger. The teeth of the females remain
unchanged. In July and August all the adults die off, and in
September only the fry are to be found.
There are several other genera, closely allied to Gobius, as
Euctenogobius, Lophiogobius, Doliichthys, Apocryptes, Evorthodus,
Gobiosoma and Gobiodon (with scaleless body) Triænophorichthys.
Sicydium.—Body covered with ctenoid scales of rather small size.
Cleft of the mouth nearly horizontal, with the upper jaw prominent; lips
very thick; the lower lip generally with a series of minute horny teeth.
A series of numerous small teeth in upper jaw, implanted in the gum,
and generally movable; the lower jaw with a series of conical widely-
set teeth. Two dorsal fins, the anterior with six flexible spines. Ventral
fins united, and forming a short disk, more or less adherent to the
abdomen.
Small freshwater fishes inhabiting the rivers and rivulets of the
islands of the tropical Indo-Pacific. About twelve species are known;
one occurs in the West Indies. Lentipes from the Sandwich Islands is
allied to Sicydium.
Periophthalmus.—Body covered with ctenoid scales of small or
moderate size. Cleft of the mouth nearly horizontal, with the upper jaw
somewhat longer. Eyes very close together, immediately below the
upper profile, prominent, but retractile, with a well-developed outer
eyelid. Teeth conical, vertical in both jaws. Two dorsal fins, the anterior
with flexible spines; caudal fin with the lower margin oblique; base of
the pectoral fin free, with strong muscles. Ventral fins more or less
coalesced. Gill-openings narrow.
The fishes of this genus, and the closely-allied Boleophthalmus,
are exceedingly common on the coasts of the tropical Indo-Pacific,
especially on parts covered with mud or fucus. During ebb they leave
the water and hunt for small crustaceans, and other small animals
disporting themselves on the ground which is left uncovered by the
receding water. With the aid of their strong pectoral and ventral fins
and their tail, they hop freely over the ground, and escape danger by
rapid leaps. The peculiar construction of their eyes, which are very
movable, and can be thrust far out of their sockets, enables them to
see in the air as well as in the water; when the eyes are retracted
they are protected by a membranous eyelid. These fishes are absent
in the eastern parts of the Pacific and on the American side of the
Atlantic; but singularly enough one species reappears on the West
African coast. About seven species are known (including
Boleophthalmus), P. koelreuteri being one of the most common
fishes of the Indian Ocean.

Fig. 221.—Periophthalmus koelreuteri.

Eleotris.—Body scaly; eyes of moderate size, lateral, not
prominent. Teeth small. Two dorsal fins, the anterior generally with six
spines. Ventrals not united, though close together, with one spine and
five rays.
About sixty species are known from the tropics, only a few
extending into the temperate zone. As regards form, they repeat
almost all the modifications observed among the Gobies, from which
they differ only in having the ventral fins non-coalescent. On the
whole they are somewhat larger than the Gobies, and rather
freshwater than marine species, some of them being abundant in the
rivulets of the islands of the Indo-Pacific and Atlantic. Others have
even penetrated into the inland-waters of the African continent.
Trypauchen.—Body elongate, covered with minute scales; head
compressed, with a deep cavity on each side, above the operculum.
Teeth small, in a band. One dorsal, the spinous portion composed of
six spines; dorsal and anal fins continuous with the caudal, ventral fins
united.
 Small fishes of singular aspect, from the East Indian coasts.
Three species, of which T. vagina is common.
Callionymus.—Head and anterior part of the body depressed, the
rest cylindrical, naked. Snout pointed, with the cleft of the mouth
narrow, horizontal, and with the upper jaw very protractile. Eyes rather
large, more or less directed upwards. Teeth very small, palate smooth.
A strong spine at the angle of the præoperculum. Two dorsal fins, the
anterior with three or four flexible spines; ventrals five-rayed, widely
apart from each other. Gill-openings very narrow, generally reduced to
a foramen on the upper side of the operculum.
The “Dragonets” are small, and generally beautifully coloured
marine fishes, inhabitants of the coasts of the temperate zone of the
Old World; the minority of species live in tropical parts of the Indo-
Pacific; and these seem to descend to somewhat greater depths
than the littoral species of the northern hemisphere. Secondary
sexual characters are developed in almost all the species, the
mature males having the fin-rays prolonged into filaments, and the
fin-membranes brightly ornamented. On the British coast one
species (C. draco) is very common, and locally called “Skulpin.”
About thirty species are known, many of which have the
præopercular spine armed with processes or barbs. Vulsus is allied
to Callionymus.
Other genera belonging to this family are—Benthophilus from the
Caspian Sea; Amblyopus, Orthostomus, Platyptera, Luciogobius,
Oxymetopon, and, perhaps, Oxuderces.

Tenth Division—Acanthopterygii Blenniiformes.

Body low, sub-cylindrical or compressed, elongate. Dorsal fin
very long; the spinous portion of the dorsal, if distinct, is very long, as
well developed, as the soft, or much more; sometimes the entire fin
is composed of spines only; anal more or less long; caudal fin
subtruncated or rounded, if present. Ventral fins thoracic or jugular, if
present.

First Family—Cepolidæ.
 Body very elongate, compressed, covered with very small cycloid
scales; eyes rather large, lateral. Teeth of moderate size. No bony
stay for the angle of the præoperculum. One very long dorsal fin,
which, like the anal, is composed of soft rays. Ventrals thoracic,
composed of one spine and five rays. Gill-opening wide. Caudal
vertebræ exceedingly numerous.
The “Band-fishes” (Cepola) are small marine fishes, belonging
principally to the fauna of the northern temperate zone; in the Indian
Ocean the genus extends southwards to Pinang. The European
species (C. rubescens) is found in isolated examples on the British
coast, but is less scarce in some years than in others. These fishes
are of a nearly uniform red colour.

Second Family—Trichonotidæ.
Body elongate, sub-cylindrical, covered with cycloid scales of
moderate size. Eyes directed upwards. Teeth in villiform bands. No
bony stay for the angle of the præoperculum. One long dorsal fin,
with simple articulated rays, and without a spinous portion; anal long.
Ventrals jugular, with one spine and five rays. Gill-opening very wide.
The number of caudal vertebræ much exceeding that of the
abdominal.
Small marine fishes, belonging to two genera only, Trichonotus
(setigerus) from Indian Seas, with some of the anterior dorsal rays
prolonged into filaments; and Hemerocoetes (acanthorhynchus) from
New Zealand, and sometimes found far out at sea on the surface.

Third Family—Heterolepidotidæ.
Body oblong, compressed, scaly; eyes lateral; cleft of the mouth
lateral; dentition feeble. The angle of the præoperculum connected
by a bony stay with the infraorbital ring. Dorsal long, with the spinous
and soft portions equally developed; anal elongate. Ventrals
thoracic, with one spine and five rays.
 Fig. 222.—Scale from the
lateral line of Hemerocœtes
acanthorhynchus, with lacerated
margin.

Fig. 223.—Chirus hexagrammus, from Japan.

Small shore-fishes, characteristic of the fauna of the Northern
Pacific, some of the species occurring on the American as well as
Asiatic side. They have been referred to several genera, as
Chirus, which is distinguished by the presence of several lateral
lines;
Ophiodon, with one lateral line only, cycloid scales, and slightly
armed præoperculum;
Agrammus, with one lateral line only, ctenoid scales, and unarmed
præoperculum; and
Zaniolepis, with one lateral line and minute comb-like scales.
 Fourth Family—Blenniidæ.
Body elongate, low, more or less cylindrical, naked or covered
with scales, which generally are small. One, two, or three dorsal fins
occupying nearly the whole length of the back, the spinous portion, if
distinct, being as much developed as the soft, or more; sometimes
the entire fin is composed of spines; anal fin long. Ventrals jugular,
composed of a few rays, and sometimes rudimentary or entirely
absent. Pseudobranchiæ generally present.
Littoral forms of great generic variety, occurring abundantly in all
temperate and tropical seas. Some of the species have become
acclimatised in fresh water, and many inhabit brackish water. With
very few exceptions they are very small, some of the smallest fishes
belonging to the family of “Blennies.” One of the principal
characteristics of the Blennies is the ventral fin, which is formed by
less than five rays, and has a jugular position. The Blennies have
this in common with many Gadoids, and it is sometimes difficult to
decide to which of these two families a fish should be referred. In
such doubtful cases the presence of the pseudobranchiæ (which are
absent in Gadoids) may be of assistance.
In many Blennies the ventral fins have ceased to have any
function, and become rudimentary, or are even entirely absent. In
others the ventral fins, although reduced to cylindrical stylets,
possess a distinct function, and are used as organs of locomotion,
by the aid of which the fish moves rapidly over the bottom.
The fossil forms are scarcely known; Pterygocephalus from
Monte Bolca appears to have been a Blennioid.
Anarrhichas.—Body elongate, with rudimentary scales; snout
rather short; cleft of the mouth wide; strong conical teeth in the jaws,
those on the sides with several pointed tubercles; a biserial band of
large molar teeth on the palate. Dorsal fin long, with flexible spines;
caudal separate. Ventrals none. Gill-openings wide.
The “Sea-wolf,” or “Sea-cat” (A. lupus), is a gigantic Blenny,
attaining to a length of more than six feet. With its enormously strong
tubercular teeth it is able to crush the hardest shells of Crustaceans
or Mollusks, on which it feeds voraciously. It is an inhabitant of the
northern seas, like two other allied species, all of which are
esteemed as food by the inhabitants of Iceland and Greenland. Two
other species of Sea-wolves occur in the corresponding latitudes of
the North Pacific.

Fig. 224.—Teeth of the Wolf-fish, Anarrhichas lupus.

Blennius.—Body moderately elongate, naked; snout short. A
single dorsal, without detached portion; ventrals jugular, formed by a
spine and two rays. Cleft of the mouth narrow; a single series of
immovable teeth in the jaws; generally a curved tooth behind this
series in both jaws, or in the lower only. A more or less developed
tentacle above the orbit. Gill-opening wide.
About forty species of Blennius (in the restricted generic sense)
are known from the northern temperate zone, the tropical Atlantic,
Tasmania, and the Red Sea. But in the tropical Indian Ocean they
are almost entirely absent, and replaced by other allied genera.
Three species, found near the Sandwich Islands, are immigrants into
the Pacific from the American Continent. They generally live on the
coast, or attach themselves to floating objects, some species leading
a pelagic life, hiding themselves in floating seaweed, in which they
even propagate their species. All species readily accustom
themselves to fresh water, and some (B. vulgaris) have become
entirely acclimatised in inland lakes. British species are B.
gattorugine (growing to a length of twelve inches), B. ocellaris, B.
galerita, and B. pholis, the common “Shanny.”
Chasmodes is a genus allied to Blennius, from the Atlantic coasts
of temperate North America.

Fig. 225.—Petroscirtes bankieri, from Hong-Kong.

Petroscirtes.—Body moderately elongate, naked. Snout
generally short. A single dorsal fin; ventrals composed of two or three
rays. Cleft of the mouth narrow; a single series of immovable teeth in
the jaws; a strong curved canine tooth behind this series, that of the
lower jaw much stronger than that of the upper. Head sometimes with
tentacles. Gill-opening reduced to a small fissure above the root of the
pectoral.
Thirty species, from the tropical Indo-Pacific, of small size.

Fig. 226.—Dentition of the same,

enlarged.
 Salarias.—Body moderately elongate, naked; snout short, with
transverse cleft of the mouth; a series of numerous small teeth in the
jaws, implanted in the gum and movable; generally a curved canine
tooth on each side of the lower jaw, behind the series of small teeth.
Dorsal fin continuous, sometimes divided into two portions by a more
or less deep notch without a detached anterior part. Ventral fins with
two or three rays. A tentacle above the orbit. Gill-openings wide.
Sixty species are known from the tropical zone, extending
northwards to Madeira, southwards to Chile and Tasmania. In certain
individuals of some of the species a longitudinal cutaneous crest is
developed; all young individuals lack it, and in some other species it
is invariably absent. Singularly enough this crest is not always a
sexual character, as one might have supposed from analogy, but in
some species at least it is developed in both sexes. Mature males,
however, have generally higher dorsal fins and a more intense and
variegated coloration than females and immature males, as is also
the case in Blennius.
Clinus.—Body moderately elongate, covered with small scales;
snout rather short; a narrow band or series of small teeth in the jaws
and on the palate. Dorsal fin formed by numerous spines and a few
soft rays, without a detached anterior portion; anal spines two.
Ventrals with two or three rays. A tentacle above the orbit. Gill-
opening wide.
Thirty species, from the coasts of tropical America and the
southern temperate zone. Three other genera are closely allied to
Clinus, viz. Cristiceps and Cremnobates, in which the three anterior
dorsal spines are detached from the rest of the fin; and Tripterygium,
with three distinct dorsal fins, of which the two anterior are spinous.
The species of these genera are as numerous as those of Clinus,
occurring in many parts of tropical seas, in the Mediterranean, and
being especially well represented in South Australia and New
Zealand.
Stichæus.—Body elongate, covered with very small scales; lateral
line more or less distinct, sometimes several lateral lines. Snout short;
very small teeth in the jaws, and generally on the palate. Dorsal fin
long, formed by spines only. Ventrals with two or three rays. Caudal fin
distinct. Gill-openings rather wide.
 Small fishes, peculiar to the coasts near the arctic circle, ranging
southwards to the coasts of Japan and Scandinavia. Ten species.
Blenniops.—Body moderately elongate, covered with very small
scales; lateral line none. Snout short; small teeth in the jaws, none on
the palate. Dorsal fin long, formed by spines only. Ventrals with one
spine and three rays. Caudal distinct. Gill-openings of moderate width,
the gill-membranes coalescent across the isthmus.
A fine but not common kind of Blenny (B. ascanii), from the
British and Scandinavian coasts.
Centronotus.—Body elongate, covered with very small scales;
lateral line none. Snout short; very small teeth in the jaws. Dorsal fin
long, formed by spines only. Ventrals none or rudimentary; caudal
separate. Gill-openings of moderate width, gill-membranes
coalescent.
Ten species are known from the northern coasts; southwards the
genus extends to the coasts of France, New York, California, and
Japan. C. gunellus, or the “Gunnel-fish” or “Butter-fish,” is common
on the British coasts. Apodichthys is allied to Centronotus, but the
vertical fins are confluent; and a very large, excavated, pen-like
spine lies hidden in a pouch in front of the anal fin. This spine is
evidently connected in some way with the generative organs, as a
furrow leads from the orifice of the oviduct to the groove of the spine.
One species from the Pacific coast of North America. Xiphidion is
another closely allied genus from the same locality.
Cryptacanthodes.—Body very elongate, naked, with a single
lateral line. Head with the muciferous system well developed. Eye
rather small. Conical teeth in the jaws, on the vomer and palatine
bones. One dorsal formed by spines only; caudal connected with
dorsal and anal. Ventrals none. Gill-opening of moderate width, with
the gill-membranes joined to the isthmus.
One species (C. maculatus) from the Atlantic coasts of North
America.
Patæcus.—Body oblong, elevated anteriorly; snout short, with
subvertical anterior profile; minute teeth in the jaws and on the vomer.
Dorsal fin with the anterior spines strong and long, continuous with the
caudal; ventrals none. Gill-openings wide.
 Fig. 227.—Patæcus fronto.
Three species of this singular form are known from South and
West Australia.
Zoarces.—Body elongate, with the scales rudimentary; conical
teeth in the jaws. Dorsal fin long, with a depression on the tail, which
is formed by a series of spines much shorter than the rays. No other
fin-spines. No separate caudal fin. Ventrals short, formed by three or
four rays. Gill-openings wide.
Two species are known, one from the European, and the other
from the North American side of the Atlantic. The former, Z.
viviparus, is well known by the name of “Viviparous Blenny;” as is
signified by this name it produces its young alive. These are so
matured at the time of their birth that on their first exclusion they
swim about with the utmost agility. No fewer than from two to three
hundred young are sometimes produced by one female, and the
abdomen of the mother is so distended before parturition that it is
impossible to touch it without causing them to be extruded. Full
grown individuals are about twelve inches long, but the American
species (Z. anguillaris) attains to a length of two or three feet.
Other genera of the family of Blennoids are:—Blennophis,
Nemophis, Plagiotremus, Neoclinus, Cebidichthys, Myxodes,
Heterostichus, Dictyosoma, Lepidoblennius, Dactyloscopus,
Gunellichthys, Urocentrus, Stichæopsis, Sticharium, Notograptus,
Pholidichthys, and Pseudoblennius.
 Fifth Family—Acanthoclinidæ.
Body elongate, low, compressed, covered with small scales. One
dorsal fin, occupying nearly the whole of the back, and chiefly
composed of spines. Anal fin long, with numerous spines. Ventrals
jugular, composed of a few rays only.
Of this family one fish only is known (Acanthoclinus littoreus), a
small Blenny abundant on the coast of New Zealand.

Sixth Family—Mastacembelidæ.
Body elongate, eel-like, covered with very small scales. Mandible
long, but little moveable. Dorsal fin very long, the anterior portion
composed of numerous short isolated spines; anal fin with spines
anteriorly. Ventrals none. The humeral arch is not suspended from
the skull. Gill-openings reduced to a slit at the lower part of the side
of the head.
Freshwater-fishes characteristic of and almost confined to the
Indian region. The structure of the mouth and of the branchial
apparatus, the separation of the humeral arch from the skull, the
absence of ventral fins, the anatomy of the abdominal organs,
affords ample proof that these fishes are Acanthopterygian eels.
Their upper jaw terminates in a pointed moveable appendage, which
is concave and transversely striated inferiorly in Rhynchobdella, and
without transverse striæ in Mastacembelus: the only two genera of
this family. Thirteen species are known, of which Rh. aculeata, M.
pancalus and M. armatus are extremely common, the latter attaining
to a length of two feet. Outlying species are M. aleppensis from
Mesopotamia and Syria, and M. cryptacanthus, M. marchei, and M.
niger, from West Africa.

Fig. 228.—Mastacembelus argus, from Siam.

 Eleventh Division—Acanthopterygii Mugiliformes.
Two dorsal fins more or less remote from each other; the anterior
either short, like the posterior, or composed of feeble spines. Ventral
fins with one spine and five rays, abdominal.

First Family—Sphyrænidæ.
Body elongate, sub-cylindrical, covered with small cycloid scales;
lateral line continuous. Cleft of the mouth wide, armed with strong
teeth. Eye lateral, of moderate size. Vertebræ twenty-four.
This family consists of one genus only, Sphyræna, generally
called “Barracudas,” large voracious fishes from the tropical and sub-
tropical seas, which prefer the vicinity of the coast to the open sea.
They attain to a length of eight feet, and a weight of forty pounds;
individuals of this large size are dangerous to bathers. They are
generally used as food, but sometimes (especially in the West
Indies) their flesh assumes poisonous qualities, from having fed on
smaller poisonous fishes. Seventeen species.
The Barracudas existed in the tertiary epoch, their remains being
frequently found at Monte Bolca. Some other fossil genera have
been associated with them, but as they are known from jaws and
teeth or vertebræ only, their position in the system cannot be exactly
determined; thus Sphyrænodus and Hypsodon from the chalk of
Lewes, and the London clay of Sheppey. The American Portheus is
allied to Hypsodon. Another remarkable genus from the chalk,
Saurocephalus, has been also referred to this family.[44]

Second Family—Atherinidæ.
Body more or less elongate, sub-cylindrical, covered with scales
of moderate size; lateral line indistinct. Cleft of the mouth of
moderate width, with the dentition feeble. Eye lateral, large or of
moderate size. Gill-openings wide. Vertebræ very numerous.
 Small carnivorous fishes inhabiting the seas of the temperate and
tropical zones; many enter fresh water, and some have been entirely
acclimatised in it. This family seems to have been represented in the
Monte Bolca formation by Mesogaster.
Atherina.—Teeth very small; scales cycloid. The first dorsal is
short and entirely separated from the second. Snout obtuse, with the
cleft of the mouth straight, oblique, extending to or beyond the anterior
margin of the eye.
The Atherines are littoral fishes, living in large shoals, which habit
has been retained by the species acclimatised in fresh water. They
rarely exceed a length of six inches, but are nevertheless esteemed
as food. From their general resemblance to the real Smelt they are
often thus misnamed, but may always be readily recognised by their
small first spinous dorsal fin. The young, for some time after they are
hatched, cling together in dense masses, and in numbers almost
incredible. The inhabitants of the Mediterranean coast of France call
these newly hatched Atherines “Nonnat” (unborn). Some thirty
species are known, of which A. presbyter and A. boyeri occur on the
British coast.
Atherinichthys, distinguished from Atherina in having the snout
more or less produced; and the cleft of the mouth generally does not
extend to the orbit.
These Atherines are especially abundant on the coasts and in the
fresh waters of Australia and South America. Of the twenty species
known, several attain a length of eighteen inches and a weight of
more than a pound. All are highly esteemed as food; but the most
celebrated is the “Pesce Rey” of Chile (A. laticlavia).
Tetragonurus.—Body rather elongate, covered with strongly
keeled and striated scales. The first dorsal fin is composed of
numerous feeble spines, and continued on to the second. Lower jaw
elevated, with convex dental margin, and armed with compressed,
triangular, rather small teeth, in a single series.
This very remarkable fish is more frequently met with in the
Mediterranean than in the Atlantic, but generally scarce. Nothing is
known of its habits; when young it is one of the fishes which
accompany Medusæ, and, therefore, it must be regarded as a
pelagic form. Probably, at a later period of its life, it descends to
greater depths, coming to the surface at night only. It grows to a
length of eighteen inches.

Third Family—Mugilidæ.
Body more or less oblong and compressed, covered with cycloid
scales of moderate size; lateral line none. Cleft of the mouth narrow
or of moderate width, without or with feeble teeth. Eye lateral, of
moderate size. Gill-opening wide. The anterior dorsal fin composed
of four stiff spines. Vertebræ twenty-four.
The “Grey Mullets” inhabit in numerous species and in great
numbers the coasts of the temperate and tropical zones. They
frequent brackish waters, in which they find an abundance of food
which consists chiefly of the organic substances mixed with mud or
sand; in order to prevent larger bodies from passing into the
stomach, or substances from passing through the gill-openings,
these fishes have the organs of the pharynx modified into a filtering
apparatus. They take in a quantity of sand or mud, and, after having
worked it for some time between the pharyngeal bones, they eject
the roughest and indigestible portion of it. The upper pharyngeals
have a rather irregular form; they are slightly arched, the convexity
being directed towards the pharyngeal cavity, tapering anteriorly and
broad posteriorly. They are coated with a thick soft membrane, which
reaches far beyond the margin of the bone, at least on its interior
posterior portion; this membrane is studded all over with minute
horny cilia. The pharyngeal bone rests upon a large fatty mass,
giving it a considerable degree of elasticity. There is a very large
venous sinus between the anterior portion of the pharyngeal and the
basal portion of the branchial arches. Another mass of fat, of
elliptical form, occupies the middle of the roof of the pharynx,
between the two pharyngeal bones. Each branchial arch is provided
on each side, in its whole length, with a series of closely-set gill-
rakers, which are laterally bent downwards, each series closely
fitting into the series of the adjoining arch; they constitute together a
sieve, admirably adapted to permit a transit for the water, retaining at
the same time every other substance in the cavity of the pharynx.
The lower pharyngeal bones are elongate, crescent-shaped, and
broader posteriorly than anteriorly. Their inner surface is concave,
corresponding to the convexity of the upper pharyngeals, and
provided with a single series of lamellæ, similar to those of the
branchial arches, but reaching across the bone from one margin to
the other.
The intestinal tract shows no less peculiarities. The lower portion
of the œsophagus is provided with numerous long thread-like
papillæ, and continued into the oblong-ovoid membranaceous cœcal
portion of the stomach, the mucosa of which forms several
longitudinal folds. The second portion of the stomach reminds one of
the stomach of birds; it communicates laterally with the other portion,
is globular, and surrounded by an exceedingly strong muscle. This
muscle is not divided into two as in birds, but of great thickness in
the whole circumference of the stomach, all the muscular fasciculi
being circularly arranged. The internal cavity of this stomach is rather
small, and coated with a tough epithelium, longitudinal folds running
from the entrance opening to the pyloric, which is situated opposite
to the other. A low circular valve forms a pylorus. There are five
rather short pyloric appendages. The intestines make a great
number of circumvolutions, and are seven feet long in a specimen
thirteen inches in length.
 Fig. 229.—Mugil proboscideus.
Some seventy species of Grey Mullets are known, the majority of
which attain to a weight of about four pounds, but there are many
which grow to ten and twelve pounds. All are eaten, and some even
esteemed, especially when taken out of fresh water. If attention were
paid to their cultivation, great profits could be made by fry being
transferred into suitable backwaters on the shore, in which they
rapidly grow to a marketable size. Several species are more or less
abundant on the British coasts, as Mugil octo-radiatus (Fig. 105, p.
254), M. capito, M. auratus (Fig. 106, p. 254), and M. septentrionalis
(Fig. 107, p. 254), which, with the aid of the accompanying figures,
and by counting the rays of the anal fin, may be readily distinguished
—M. octo-radiatus having eight, and M. capito and M. auratus nine
soft rays. A species inhabiting fresh waters of Central America (M.
proboscideus) has the snout pointed and fleshy, thus approaching
certain other freshwater and littoral Mullets, which, on account of a
modification of the structure of the mouth, have been formed into a
distinct genus, Agonostoma. Myxus comprises Mullets with teeth
more distinct than in the typical species.
This genus existed in the tertiary epoch, remains of a species
having been found in the gypsum of Aix, in Provence.

Twelfth Division—Acanthopterygii Gastrosteiformes.

 The spinous dorsal is composed of isolated spines if present; the
ventrals are either thoracic or have an abdominal position in
consequence of the prolongation of the pubic bones which are
attached to the humeral arch. Mouth small, at the end of the snout
which is generally more or less produced.

First Family—Gastrosteidæ.
Body elongate, compressed. Cleft of the mouth oblique; villiform
teeth in the jaws. Opercular bones not armed; infraorbitals covering
the cheek; parts of the skeleton forming incomplete external mails.
Scales none, but generally large scutes along the side. Isolated
spines in front of the soft dorsal fin. Ventral fins abdominal, joined to
the pubic bone, composed of a spine and a small ray.
Branchiostegals three.

Fig. 230.—Gastrosteus noveboracensis.

Of “Sticklebacks” (Gastrosteus) about ten species are
satisfactorily known, one of which (G. spinachia) lives in salt and
brackish water, whilst the others inhabit principally fresh waters,
although they all are able to exist in the sea. They are confined to
the Temperate and Arctic zones of the northern hemisphere. The
British freshwater species are the Three-spined Stickleback (G.
aculeatus), which sometimes, especially in Central Europe, lacks
scutes, sometimes has a series of scutes along the side of the body;
the Four-spined Stickleback (G. spinulosus) and the Nine-spined
Stickleback (G. pungitius). The commonest North American species