After his visit from Riley he’d gone to Texas to visit with Mrs. Jackie Simmons. Like RayAnn, she had moved on. Not with a guy, but with her own business. She sold gift baskets, and was doing pretty well for herself and her daughter.
Jackie got a little teary when she saw him, but she pulled it together and assured Sam that they were fine, and they definitely didn’t blame him for what happened.
With that second hurdle over, Sam was waiting for the magic to happen. Unfortunately, there was no such thing as magic when it came to healing from PTSD.
The medication seemed to be helping. He’d only had one nightmare in the last week, and that wasn’t even about the blasted hill. It was about kittens. He surely wasn’t going to tell anyone about the kitten dream.
He picked up the file Dalton had tossed on his desk.
“I heard back from Cooper. He looked over the agreement with McGuire. He says it looks straightforward. I have the accountant working the numbers now. In the meantime, I want to get ready to move once we decide. I don’t want a lag time after we take over. We have guys who will want to keep working.”
Sam flipped through the properties where they would potentially build the home he had designed. One in particular stood out. Four acres on a partially wooded lot in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. He shook the thought away before he could even start seeing himself there with Riley and Luca.
“Actually, I’m not sure I’m going to be buying a house. Riley and I kind of broke up.”
“Seriously? I thought you were good to go.” Dalton looked personally offended.
“I was. I am. It’s just with my issues, I’m more of a liability.”
“Issues?” Dalton tilted his head to the side.
“I have trouble sleeping.” Freaking kittens of all things!
“Uh-huh.” It was obvious Dalton could tell Sam wasn’t telling him everything, but he didn’t push for details, which made Sam grateful.
Fortunately they were interrupted by a tap at the door.
“Officer Porter, what brings you by?” Dalton asked Malcolm as he sat down. Malcolm Porter kept an eye on the warehouse and the business while Dalton and Sam were out of town. It was always nice to have a cop for a friend.
“I just got off duty. Anyone want to go get a drink?”
“Can’t. And not just because it’s only nine-thirty in the morning,” Dalton answered for them.
“Come on. You guys work for yourselves. You can leave if you want to.”
“We’re getting ready to take on another business. And apparently my partner has issues, and broke up with his girl.”
“Sorry, man,” Malcolm said sincerely. “Well, if I can’t corrupt you, I guess I’ll go home and get some sleep. It was a toss-up anyway.” With that he tipped his hat and left Sam alone with a miffed Dalton.
“I already have a few applications for people to take over your stuff on the road. Are you still planning to give that up?” Dalton asked.
“Yeah. I mean even if I can’t be with Riley, I’m going to want to settle down someday, right? I might as well lay the groundwork.”
“What do you think of the lots? If you’re laying groundwork . . .”
Sam looked at the photos again. “Let me go out and take a look.”
This turned out to be a bad idea.
He stopped at the one he liked best, and got out of the truck. He could see the way the house would be tucked in a clearing down a long driveway. It would be secluded. He liked that idea. The driveway would be great for the kids to ride their bikes. There was a tree at the edge of the yard that would be perfect for a clubhouse. There was a small creek. Surely Luca would have hours of fun getting muddy in that creek.
He and Riley could watch from the deck.
This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to happen. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about a future with Riley and Luca.
* * *
Another week had gone by and Riley was no closer to getting over Sam. He’d dropped off groceries while she was at work, using the key from the porch to bring them inside and put them away.
“I thought I said I was okay with peanut butter,” she muttered to herself as she looked in the cupboards. They were full. Cereal. Snacks. There was fruit on the counter, and ice cream in the freezer.
Damn it, why did he have to make this so hard? She missed him and loved him, but what would happen if he caused her to lose Luca? She would never be able to forgive him for that, even though she knew it wasn’t his fault.
On top of her broken heart and her foul mood, she was officially sick. She’d held it at bay, but unfortunately she was no match for the microscopic germs that had taken over her body. It was apparent by now the congestion in her sinuses and chest were not going to go away.
She popped a Dayquil and washed it down with a cup of coffee.
“Finish up and get dressed so we can get going,” she told Luca. “You’re going to go play with Maddy while I go to work.” Even though she had just gotten off work an hour ago.
“Sam?” he asked as he did every day.
“Hey, look! Do you want some fruit snacks?” He was distracted enough to forget his question for the time being.
Three days later, the cold from hell had somehow gotten even worse. Pauline cringed every time Riley coughed and swayed. She was feeling a little off kilter, but she was sure it was just because she hadn’t been sleeping well. A stuffy nose and an empty bed kept her tossing all night when she finally got the opportunity to go to bed. On top of that she now felt chilled and although she hadn’t taken her temperature to know for sure, she no doubt had a fever.
“I think you should stay home tomorrow if this isn’t better. Maybe you should go to the doctor again.”
The truth was, Riley hadn’t gone to the doctor at all. She let Pauline assume she had gone and didn’t correct her.
What she had done was call Nic at the clinic and asked her to call in an antibiotic. When Nichole said she would actually need to see her first, Riley put it off. Riley didn’t have time to spend sitting in the waiting room at the clinic. She had two jobs and a toddler.
She also had more groceries in her house when she got home.
“Damn it, Sam,” she grumbled as she put them away. She hated that he kept bringing her groceries. After all, she wasn’t helpless. She could feed and clothe her child. But knowing Sam did these things because he wanted to and it made him feel needed made her feel guilty for not allowing his help.
She sent him a text.
Stop bringing me food, I mean it! And thank you.
She added that last part right before she hit send, not wanting to seem ungrateful. If ever there was a mixed message it was that one.
In an effort to stop his coming in her house like some kind of peanut butter fairy-godfather, she went out to the porch and found her spare key under the pot where she kept it. She had to put her hand out on the wall to steady herself, having stood up too quickly. Squeezing the key in her palm for a second she deliberated, and then she walked back in the house and tossed the key on the counter next to the growing pile of bills.
The next morning, she moaned when Luca crawled in bed next to her. His skin felt ice cold against hers as she shivered.
“Momma, up?” he asked. He was probably hungry, and she needed to get up to go to work, but she didn’t know how it was going to be possible in her condition.
She quickly calculated how much money she would lose if she didn’t go in. Pauline would understand, but she couldn’t afford to lose the day. Especially if it seemed inevitable that she was going to need to go to the doctor’s. For real.
With all the strength she could muster she pulled back the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed. Luca had already run off, expecting her to be right behind him. Unfortunately, she was having difficulty. The room was slanted and her burning skin was covered in goosebumps.
As she made her way to the kitchen, it became very apparent this was wors
e than she thought. She obviously had a fever, probably a high one from the way her head was throbbing. She was also off balance. There was no way she was going to be able to drive.
Hell, she’d be lucky if she could make Luca’s cereal.
She got a bowl down and filled it with Fruit Hoops, then focused on getting the milk out of the refrigerator and pouring it over the colorful circles in the bowl. In a fog she closed the refrigerator and carried the bowl to the table where Luca was sitting patiently.
She was royally screwed. It was time to do the mature thing and ask for help. Actually the time for the mature thing had been two days ago when she couldn’t seem to lie down without coughing, but she was ready now.
Her cellphone was on the counter next to the refrigerator. She just needed to make it that far. She leaned on the counter and picked up the phone. She would call Anita and she would come over to help.
It was a simple goal—just a few swipes of her finger—but she didn’t make it that far.
Chapter 14
With a deep breath, Sam walked into the jewelry store expecting to see the frown line on Riley’s forehead. He’d had a breakthrough at therapy the day before, and he decided he was ready to get his life back.
The first step started with Riley and Luca. He hadn’t had a dream in the last week, kittens, insurgents, or otherwise, and Dr. Younger had made some suggestions to help keep Luca safe until he was old enough to understand not to touch Sam while he’s asleep.
He glanced around the small shop and was surprised when only Pauline greeted him.
“Hi Sam. What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I stopped in to see Riley.” It was nine-thirty. She should have started her shift a half hour ago. “I brought muffins.”
“You’re so sweet, but she’s not here. You must not have spoken to her or you would know how awful sick she is. Poor thing. I told her to stay home.”
“I’ll go check in with her,” he said, leaving the muffins with the woman who was eyeing up the bag. “Thanks.”
He was disappointed that Riley wasn’t there. He had psyched himself up to state his case, and the delay was making him nervous all over again.
He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove down her street and parked in the alley behind her apartment. As he got out of the truck he thought maybe he should have stopped to get her tissues or cough medicine. Some gesture to show he cared. But the screams coming from the house made every thought fall right out of his head.
“Luca?” he called as he stepped up on the porch. He knocked on the door, but didn’t wait for anyone to answer before he went to the window to peer inside.
Luca was screaming as if he was being tortured, and every instinct Sam had told him to get inside that house. The air conditioner blocked his view on the bottom half of the window so he leaned up to look in through the top part.
Blood.
Luca was sitting on the floor in the kitchen next to the counter with blood all over him. Where was Riley? Why wasn’t she helping him?
Sam went to the pots at the side of the porch and picked up the one where she kept the spare key. Nothing. He picked up two more and then pushed them all over trying to find the key. It wasn’t there.
“What the hell?”
Luca let out another long wail and Sam couldn’t think. All he could do was act. Without consciously planning it, he grabbed hold of the air conditioner and ripped it out of the window, letting it crash to the floor, bits of plastic and splintered wood scattered at his feet.
A second later he was climbing through the window to help the little boy.
“Luca? What’s wrong?” he asked, but then he saw her.
Riley was lying on the floor in a large puddle of blood. Her skin was pale, her blonde hair stained red. Small bloody footprints marked the floor where Luca had ran down the hall. Hops, his white bunny sat next to Riley, soaked with blood.
Sam pulled his phone and dialed 9-1-1 at the same time he checked Luca over. None of the blood appeared to be his own. Sam told the woman on the phone to send an ambulance and repeated Riley’s address twice before he hung up.
He paused a second and ran his hand over his hair before he gathered enough courage to reach down to check for a pulse.
His mind raced. Please don’t let her be dead. Please don’t let her be dead. Please, he repeated over and over as his hands shook and Luca continued to cry next to him.
Then he felt it. A faint thump against his fingertips, nearly made him weep with relief. She was alive, but for how long? She was bleeding from a head wound. There was so much blood.
For a moment, Sam’s mind transported him to another place where there was too much blood. He remembered seeing his own blood dripping from his fingertips into the sandy soil beneath him.
“Momma!” Luca said while tugging at Sam’s T-shirt. The little boy left bloody stains on the white cotton and Sam forced the panic down so he could deal with what was happening now. He didn’t have a bullet wound on a hill half a world away. He was in Riley’s kitchen and she needed him.
“Luc, stay back. Your mommy is going to be fine.” Sam stood and went to the drawer with the dishtowels. He grabbed a bunch and brought them over.
Turning Riley just enough to be able to put a folded towel on her head he applied pressure to the wound.
“Come on, baby. Please be okay.” He couldn’t help but notice how hot her skin was. She was burning up. Pauline had said she’d been sick. Why hadn’t she called for help? Luca was still crying, but that wasn’t the sound Sam had honed in on.
Sirens.
He could hear them coming closer as he remembered the door was still locked. When the sirens got near he let go of Riley’s wound long enough to open the door and run out to flag them down, then ran back to her.
He kneeled there in the kitchen with a screaming boy clinging to his arm as medical personnel flooded the room, yelling terse commands. The smell of blood filled the air.
He needed to run. To get away as quickly as possible before he snapped. But before he had the chance, he felt a tug at his knee and heard Luca say, “S-S-Sam.”
Sam’s feet were grounded to the floor. He couldn’t go. It wasn’t an option.
He picked up the trembling boy and held him tight, his little arms wrapped around Sam’s neck in a way that said he wouldn’t let go. Ever.
People shouted vitals and commands to one another as one of them asked Sam questions he couldn’t answer.
“She was home sick. Her boss said she had a bad cold. Her skin feels hot.”
“She may have passed out and hit her head on the way down. She’s lost a lot of blood, but her injury isn’t life threatening. Is the boy okay?” the man asked.
Luca was still clinging to Sam for all he was worth.
“He’s just scared.”
As they loaded Riley on the gurney, Sam noticed how small she looked. She wasn’t a big person but she seemed too tiny for someone so fierce and capable. Sam walked alongside her as they wheeled her outside and loaded her in the back of an ambulance.
He wasn’t asked to ride along and he knew he couldn’t. As much as he wanted to be with Riley, he needed to help Luca first. Riley would want that.
“We can’t take him with us,” the man pointed at Luca. “We’ll take care of her. By the time you get to the hospital they might have some information on her condition.”
Sam nodded woodenly and looked down at Luca.
“Momma,” Luca whispered when they closed the doors on the ambulance.
“She’s going with the doctors so they can make her better. We’re going to clean up and then we’ll go see her, okay?” Sam wiped at Luca’s red, puffy eyes as he nodded. Sam gave him a kiss on his forehead next to a bloody smear.
“Uh-oh,” Luca said, clutching his wet pants.
“It’s okay, buddy. It’s okay.”
He turned to go back in the house and was faced with a police officer.
“Do you live her
e?” he asked.
“Uh. No.”
“Is the boy yours?” Sam instinctively pulled Luca closer, as if the officer was going to rip him from his arms. What could he do if that happened? He had no rights. Only an incredible desire to take care of Luca.
“No,” he answered honestly, because he was certain lying to a cop wasn’t going to help his situation.
“I can vouch for him,” someone said from behind Sam. He turned to see Malcolm Porter walking closer.
Sam nearly fell down with relief. “Thank you.”
“So what happened?” Malcolm asked while pointing at the porch.
“When I got here, Luc was screaming and Riley was lying on the floor. So I”—he gestured toward the window—“I ripped out the air conditioner so I could get inside.”
“Why didn’t you use a key?”
“I don’t know where it is.” He didn’t go into the details about not having one of his own. The truth was, he didn’t know where it was.
Malcolm wrote something down in his notebook as Luca squirmed.
“Can we go in so I can get him cleaned up?” he asked. Luca was wet and smeared with blood.
“Sure.”
Sam carried Luca down the hall and started water for his bath.
“You want Colonel Scrubs?” Luca shook his head, his fingers were still tightly wound in Sam’s shirt.
He gave Luca a bath, which was difficult since the kid wouldn’t let go of Sam for a second. Sam answered Malcolm’s questions as best he could.
“It doesn’t look good, you breaking in with a woman bleeding on the floor. It’s a good thing I know you, or you would probably be in the back of a car until the girl woke up and could answer some questions.”
“Then I’m really glad you showed up.”
“If you had broken in and hurt the girl, her little boy probably would be afraid of you instead of clinging to you like a barnacle.”
As soon as Luca was out of the tub he was latched on to Sam’s neck again.
“That’s as good of an answer as any,” Malcolm said, closing his tablet.
“Is it okay to clean up the mess in the kitchen?” Now that it wasn’t going to be a crime scene with yellow tape and him hauled off to jail. He hadn’t even considered the way it looked. All he cared about was getting to them.
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