“There was a car accident. She was with her parents when they died.”
“You’re sure?”
“That’s what she said.”
“What else?” Sean asked, studying the giggling little girl.
“She told me an angel rescued her.”
His head snapped around. “How?”
“Supposedly, this angel lifted the whole car off her and helped her escape.”
Sighing pensively, Sean nodded. “It’s possible someone came along and did that. There have been recorded instances of bystanders performing feats of enormous strength in times of stress. If a person saw a trapped child he might find it in him to pick up a vehicle.”
“That’s what you think happened?”
“Of course. What else could it be?”
“A real angel.”
“Oh, come on, Rachel. You don’t honestly believe in all that hocus-pocus, do you?”
“Why not?” She huffed cynically. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot. You don’t believe in anything you can’t see or touch.”
“You make it sound like I’m the one who’s delusional.”
“Aren’t you?” Waving her hands in front of her she quickly added, “Never mind. Forget I said that.” A smile raised the corners of her mouth. “It’s not your fault. You can’t help being blind to the miracles all around you.”
“Nice of you to give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“Not at all. I sometimes forget that not everyone sees life the way I do. Think of yourself as a lamp with a cord that’s not plugged in. You can try to turn that lamp on all you want, but it’ll never give light unless it’s properly connected.”
“Are you calling me a dim bulb?” Sean gibed.
“Oh, no. I think you’re one of the brightest people I’ve ever known.”
“Thanks.” His gaze narrowed on her, obviously saw the twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Okay. What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I just hope I’m there when you finally discover all you’ve been missing.”
Sean chuckled to himself. “I don’t—not that I’m agreeing with you, mind you.”
“Why not? You chicken?”
“No. I just hate to be wrong. Once I’ve made up my mind, it’s not in my nature to change it.”
“Then, you and I are in for a lot of trouble,” Rachel quipped, “because I never back down, either.”
“Never?” He pushed off the wall where he’d been leaning and took one step closer to her, then another.
“Well, almost never,” Rachel said, finding herself suddenly trapped.
Ducking to dodge around him she hurried back to where Samantha was shoveling in ice cream while also entertaining Hannah with stories of previous ice-cream treats.
Rachel grinned at them, hoping she wasn’t blushing from her close encounter with Sean. “Well, here I am. What’s good? Or should I ask, what’s left?”
“I got strawberry!” the little girl announced. “It’s larupin’.”
“That good, huh?” She laughed, looking to Hannah. “Have you been teaching Samantha new expressions?”
“Maybe a few. She does learn real fast, that’s a fact. Be a shame to lose her.”
Rachel had the scoop in her hand and was filling it with rapidly softening ice cream. She stopped abruptly. “Lose her? Why? I thought everything was okay.”
“So’d I, till this afternoon. I got a call from a lady up north in Colorado, Sam’s aunt, by marriage, on her papa’s side. She’s thinkin’ ’o steppin’ in, after all.”
“What? Those people weren’t interested before. Why the change? And why now?”
“I think there’s an inheritance,” Hannah said, turning aside and lowering her voice. “Don’t know how big, not that it matters to me. Doesn’t take much money to win over some folks, though.”
“That’s terrible! We can’t let—”
Coming up behind Rachel, Sean interrupted by laying his hand gently on her shoulder and saying, “I’m sure we all want whatever’s best for Samantha.”
When Rachel turned to look up at him, she couldn’t help her unshed tears.
He relieved her of the ice-cream scoop and stepped up to take her place. “You having strawberry, Miss Rachel?”
“Um…yes.”
“I see there’s chocolate, too. I think I’ll have some of that.” With a polite smile he went on to ask, “Mrs. Brody? Can I get you something?”
“I’m fine, thanks. Already had a bite of each. But help yourself to all you’d like. It’s fixin’ to melt, anyway.”
“I think it already has melted,” Sean said. “I like it that way, myself. How about you, Samantha? Would you like more?”
She held out her half-empty dish. “Yes, please. I want chocolate, like you.”
“Would you like it in a separate bowl?”
The child looked puzzled. “Why?”
“No reason,” he said with a short laugh. “I was just remembering how my brother Ian used to eat everything. He didn’t want any flavors mixed together.”
“Oh.” Studying the softening scoops in her bowl when Sean handed it back, Samantha paused a moment, then gave the whole thing a quick stir with her spoon and held it up for him to see. “Look! I made a picture!”
“Hey, great.”
“Know what it is?” she asked.
Sean glanced over at Rachel, as if hoping for rescue, but she was still fighting back her tears.
“Let me think,” he drawled, stalling. “It kind of looks like—um—an angel?”
Samantha giggled behind her hand. “No, silly! It’s Schatzy. See? It has a red collar and everything.”
“Actually, it looks more like a glob of melted ice cream than anything else,” Sean countered, laughing with her. “I think you’re teasing me.”
That sent the child into a fit of giggles. The laughter was so contagious that even Rachel had to smile. She nodded to Sean. “I think you’re right.”
“Samantha has a wonderful imagination,” he told Rachel. “Remember that when you’re talking to her. Know what I mean?”
“I know exactly what you mean.” She picked up the dish of strawberry he’d fixed for her and tasted a spoonful, savoring the cool, smooth sweetness before she went on. “I also know what I believe. See that you don’t forget that, either.”
“Are you likely to let me?” he asked, muting a wry grin and trying to look more serious than he felt.
“Not in a million years, mister.”
Sean nodded and smiled amiably, including everyone in the magnanimous gesture. “Good. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you quit picking on me.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “Picking on you? Me? I’ve been trying to help you!”
If Sean had been the only one to laugh, Rachel wouldn’t have been surprised. However, when Hannah also began to guffaw, Rachel’s brow wrinkled with confusion. “What’s so funny?”
“You two are,” the middle-aged woman said. “The way you argue sounds just like me and my Hank used to, back when we started courtin’.”
Rachel didn’t mind Sean lingering after the others left. Truth to tell, she needed another adult to talk to. Preferably someone other than her mother.
When she started to carry the dirty bowls into the house, Sean pitched in and followed. “I’ll bring what’s left of the ice cream. I’m pretty sure it’s not salvageable, though.”
“There isn’t much. You can dump it in the sink. Just don’t let it drip on the carpet on the way to the kitchen.”
“Can’t we feed it to the animals?”
“Not the chocolate. It’s toxic to dogs and cats.”
“I didn’t know that.”
Rachel smiled at him over her shoulder. “See? Stick with me and you’ll learn something new every day.”
“Is that a guarantee?” he asked, amused.
“Close to it. I was planning to tutor you in country ways, remember?”
“How could I forget?”
Ra
chel laughed softly, enjoying his wry humor. Then she sobered. “You can do me a favor in return.”
“Sure. Name it.”
She set the bowls in the sink beside the cardboard ice-cream containers he’d put down, and rinsed off her sticky fingers before turning to look up at him. “I want you to get a copy of the police report on the death of Samantha’s parents.”
“Why? What good will that do?”
“Maybe none.” Pensive, Rachel dried her hands on a kitchen towel. “Then again, maybe the report will give us a better idea of how best to approach her.”
“Okay, I’ll do what I can. It might take some time.”
“According to Hannah, time is one thing we may not have a lot of,” Rachel countered. “Look, Sean, I know I’m no expert like you are, but even I can see that Samantha’s got some king-size hang-ups. Who wouldn’t? Especially since she saw the whole horrible accident.”
“If she really did,” he replied. “It’s also possible that she imagined being there.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Maybe because she subconsciously felt she should have been hurt, too. Or maybe because she thinks she could have saved everybody if she’d been with them.”
“What about the angel story? Do you really think she imagined all that?”
“Probably. The mind plays funny tricks under extreme stress.” He reached for Rachel’s hand, meaning only to offer consolation, but the instant he touched her he knew it was more than that. Much more. An undeniable current flowed between them, connecting them in some intangible way.
She grasped his hand in both of hers and held firm, looking up at him with misty, pleading eyes. “I want to help her, Sean. I have to. It’s like she was sent here to me. Can you understand that?”
Understand? Did he? From an intellectual standpoint, yes. From an emotional one, however, he had to admit he didn’t have a clue. If he were to concede that there might be a Higher Power at work in anyone’s life, he’d also have to acknowledge that the same Power could be affecting him. That concept was ridiculous, of course. Man was in charge of his own destiny. He, of all people, knew that. After all, he’d been just as apt as the rest of his family to lean on alcohol as an easy escape from reality, yet he’d managed to thwart those inherent tendencies. So far.
“It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t believe,” Sean said. “It’s what you think that counts. If you want my assistance in dealing with Samantha, I’ll be more than happy to help—as long as it’s in the best interests of the child.”
“I’d never do anything that wasn’t,” Rachel insisted.
“Not willfully, no. The only thing that worries me is how attached you’re getting to her already.”
“She needs love. You can’t tell me she doesn’t.”
“Of course she does. We all do.” He felt Rachel’s grip on his hand tighten and he laid his other hand over hers. “That doesn’t mean you have to be more to her than her teacher.”
Rachel knew he was right. She also realized it was too late to lock up her heart and keep it from responding to such obvious need as Samantha’s, nor would she want to. But what about Sean’s needs. What about her own? When he’d told her that everybody needed love, she’d sensed that he was speaking more from a personal standpoint than an objective one. Clearly, he needed somebody to love him unconditionally.
Not me! she immediately countered. She already had her hands full looking after this year’s class of five-year-olds and she didn’t intend to take on the burden of worrying about a “lost” adult, too. Let him find his own answers, his own niche in life. Hers was already crammed with enough responsibilities to last a lifetime.
Oh, that was real Christian, Rachel, she told herself. What a wonderful example you make. How proud Jesus must be of you!
Ashamed of her selfish inclinations, she held tight to Sean’s hands and boldly lifted her gaze to meet his. “I want to be Samantha’s special friend,” she said softly, earnestly. “And yours, too.”
He didn’t say anything in reply. He didn’t have to. The gratitude and fondness in his expression spoke for him, leaving her so deeply touched that she wanted to open her arms and give him a hug of encouragement, of validation, the way she often did her emotionally needy students.
In Sean’s case, she knew it wasn’t very smart to consider putting her arms around him. It wasn’t logical. But it was the right thing to do. And this was the right time.
Rachel didn’t care if her nosy neighbors peeked through the windows, misinterpreted her actions and shouted about them from the rooftops. Sean Bates needed a hug and he was going to get one. Right now. From her. So there.
He looked a little surprised when she pulled her hands away, then responded instinctively when she slipped her arms around his waist and stepped into his embrace.
In any other context she might have fretted that her behavior would give him the wrong impression. At this moment, however, she was confident he understood.
Laying her cheek on his chest she held him close and listened to the steady beating of his heart. This was not the breathless, frantic embrace of two clandestine lovers. It was deeper. More poignant. Almost spiritual.
Rachel didn’t know whether Sean was surprised or even if he was having the same kind of reaction to their closeness that she was. The only thing she was sure of was that she’d never felt this special, this safe, this loved, in her whole life.
Chapter Twelve
In retrospect, Rachel wasn’t sure which one of them had made the first move to relax their embrace. She only knew that they had thought and acted as one, perfectly in tune. How very unusual. How awesome!
Stepping back, she tilted her head to look up at Sean’s handsome face and was astonished to see traces of moisture in his eyes. Deeply affected, without pausing to consider the possible repercussions, she lifted her hand and tenderly, lovingly, cupped his cheek.
Sean placed his hand over hers, drew it around to his lips and kissed her palm.
Unsteady, Rachel laid her free hand on his chest and felt the pounding of his heart as it raced with her own runaway pulse. Her eyes closed. Her lips parted, trembled.
Lurking unheeded in the back of her mind was the caution that she should break away, should call a halt to what was happening.
She ignored the warning. Even her most vivid fantasies had never shown her this kind of belonging, this purity of devotion and endearment. Stop it? On the contrary—she wanted this wonderful moment to go on forever!
Sean slid his hand around the back of Rachel’s neck and pushed his fingers through the silky thickness of her hair. Then he tilted his head and bent to kiss her.
She put her arms around his neck and raised on tiptoe to meet him boldly. This kiss began softly, cautiously, like the one on her front porch had, then quickly intensified until she lost all sense of reality. Instead of seeing the situation clearly, she imagined herself floating off into the clouds just like one of Samantha’s angels.
It was Sean who finally tore himself away. He was breathing quickly and gawking at her as if he’d suddenly discovered a total stranger sharing his embrace.
Speechless, Rachel stared up at him. The tingle that had begun in her lips now included her entire being. Nothing seemed real except Sean. Nothing mattered but him. Being near him. Touching him. Trusting him completely. She wanted to ask him a thousand questions, yet her brain refused to cooperate and empower her voice. The loss of that much self-control was so frightening that it helped wake her up and bring her back down to earth—at least partially.
Could this be what it was like to fall in love? Rachel wondered. Or had she suddenly lost her mind? Given her usually levelheaded approach to life, she suspected the latter. A few seconds ago she had been so emotionally unstable she might have done something really stupid—and sinful—if Sean had asked.
Thank the Lord he hadn’t! Which proved that Somebody Up There was still looking out for her, she reasoned, although she knew she would have been th
e one ultimately responsible if she’d lost control and stepped over the line. It was no use trying to shift the blame to God when free will was involved. Clearly, she must never let herself get into that kind of a situation again with any man.
Rachel drew a shaky breath as the truth hit her squarely in the heart. No other man had ever affected her the way Sean just had! None had even come close. Not even Craig Slocum, the man she’d once planned to marry. Following that line of logic, breaking up with Craig had been a blessing, not the disappointing loss she’d imagined it to be.
Her eyes widened. Her jaw gaped. She stared up at Sean, finally managing a squeaky “Oh-oh.”
“Yeah. You can say that again.”
His voice was rough, raspy. Looking flustered and embarrassed, he cleared his throat as he took a step backward. “I think I’d better be going.”
All Rachel could do was nod. She followed him through the small house and out onto the front porch. It was one thing to know she shouldn’t try to stop Sean from leaving and quite another to actually keep her mouth shut and let him go. What she really wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and beg him to stay, to hold her and kiss her again, to make her forget everything else.
Acting on that idiotic impulse was out of the question, of course. Seeing him every day at work was going to be difficult enough after this. Letting him know that she had developed a schoolgirl crush on him would make it a hundred times worse, especially since nothing positive or lasting could ever come of a relationship between them. To encourage him romantically would be more than foolish—it would be cruel.
Seeing him heading for his car reminded her of the original reason for his visit. She shaded her eyes against the brightness of the setting sun and called, “Do you still want to borrow my hammer or my electric drill?”
Sean’s laugh was coarse, self-deprecating. “No, thanks. The way I’m feeling right now, redecorating is the last thing on my mind.”
It only took three working days for Sean to come up with the copy of the accident report that Rachel had requested.
He was thankful he’d managed to avoid running into her at school—probably with a lot of help from her—since their last ill-fated kiss in her kitchen. Now, however, in order to properly do his job, he was going to have to stop dodging her.
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