She smiled to herself, accepting the inevitable with a dollop of cynicism. Yes, she’d miss Samantha. Terribly. And she’d always think of this outing with Sean as a high point of her life. But the tears weren’t all for them. Not even close. Rachel’s tears were for herself, for the one thing she wanted that she could never have—love and commitment.
Truth to tell, her mother had been right all along. A job wasn’t enough. Being with Sean and Samantha all day had convinced her of that.
Like it or not, she did want a family of her own.
Desperately.
Chapter Fifteen
The drive back to Serenity seemed to take hours longer than the drive the other way. Rachel yawned. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Hang in there. We’re almost to the Brodys’.”
“I know.” She smiled wistfully as she glanced at the dozing little girl in the back seat. “You shouldn’t have bought her that enormous stuffed animal. It was way too expensive.”
“Had to. This was my last chance to spoil her.”
Rachel sighed. “I’m really going to miss her.”
“Me, too.”
Glancing sidelong at Sean she was certain she saw a glint of moisture in his eyes. “Do you think they’ll let her write to us, or maybe phone if we tell them to reverse the charges?”
“Maybe,” he said. “I suppose it all depends on whether they’re taking her because they really want her or because of her inheritance. Wait till they learn it’s been placed into a trust fund so it can’t be squandered.”
“Hannah did mention something about money coming to Samantha. How did you find out so much?”
“I asked. I’m surprised you didn’t.”
“I suppose I should have. I just kept telling myself I couldn’t do anything to change what would eventually happen, so I ought to stay out of it. Stupid, huh?”
“Avoiding heartache? No, that’s not stupid. It’s normal. Nobody goes out looking for dragons to slay unless they find monstrous footprints in their own backyard.”
Rachel’s brow knit. “Huh?”
“Some people are born crusaders,” Sean explained. “Others aren’t. Your talent happens to be teaching and you do that well. You said you recognized the gift when you were very young.”
“Yes, I did.” She was surprised he remembered a casual comment from so early in their relationship.
“Then, don’t beat yourself up about not being gung-ho to do something else. You have character, Rachel. If you saw an injustice that needed righting, I know you’d try to right it. When there’s nothing that can be done, staying out of the affairs of others is the smartest choice.”
“But I haven’t. Not really,” she said softly, in confidence, with a quick peek at the back seat to make sure Samantha was still asleep. “I was involved up to my eyebrows the minute I set eyes on that little girl.”
All Sean said was “I know exactly what you mean.”
The sun was set by the time they pulled into the driveway of the Brody house and parked. Apparently no one had thought to turn on the outside lights, leaving the yard dark except for the glow from the living room windows and a waxing moon that was starting to rise above the treetops.
Dimness suited Sean just fine. It matched his sinking mood. Leaving his hands resting on the steering wheel, he sighed and looked over at Rachel. “Well, I suppose we’d better wake her up and get this over with.”
“I suppose so.” She managed a smile. “I want to thank you for talking me into going along. I had a wonderful time. I’m sure Sam did, too.”
“Hey!” Sean said, brightening. “You called her Sam. That’s a real breakthrough.”
“Better late than never, I guess.”
Slowly, deliberately, Rachel turned in her seat and got to her knees so she could lean over the back of the front seat and gently rouse the weary child. She touched Samantha’s shoe, wiggled it. “Honey? Wake up. We’re home.”
Samantha snuggled closer to her stuffed panda and rubbed her cheek on its soft fur. Still asleep she murmured, “Mama.”
Tears sprang to Rachel’s eyes. Hiding her ragged emotions she quickly got out of the car and stood with her back to it, arms folded across her chest. When Sean came up behind her, laid his arms over hers and pulled her close, his tenderness cost her the last vestiges of her self-control and she began to weep.
“I…I’m sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t going to do this.”
“It’s okay. I have broad shoulders.”
“No kidding.”
As he slowly leaned down and kissed the top of her head, she dashed away her tears, turned and said the first thing that popped into her mind. “You missed.”
“I what?”
“You missed.” Through her misty gaze she saw understanding dawn as she pointed to her trembling lips. “It goes there.”
“Does it?” Sean whispered. “Are you sure?”
“No. But do it, anyway.”
He bent his head, more than ready to give her the kiss she was asking for. He’d been longing to end their marvelous day together in exactly that loving way. Only the belief that Rachel wouldn’t welcome the romantic overture had stopped him. Now that she’d removed that obstacle, he was overjoyed to oblige.
Rachel rose on tiptoe, waiting, anticipating, remembering. She could feel Sean’s breath, warm on her face, see the flicker of desire lighting his eyes. One more chapter in the fairy tale, she promised herself. Just one more and then it would be all over. For good.
Her lips parted. Her hands slipped around his neck. The moment she sensed his strong arms around her, she trusted him completely, and felt him raise her enough to lift her feet off the ground. Lost in that precious moment, Rachel started to close her eyes.
Bright light suddenly blinded her. Sean started and almost dropped her.
She staggered, fighting for balance and calling upon her heightened perceptions to make sense of whatever had just occurred. Floodlights illuminated the front yard, trapping them in the shadow thrown by his car. Rachel was instantly glad they’d been standing on the side opposite the house instead of sharing their kiss on the porch where they’d be easily seen.
Shouting and cursing was coming from the direction of the house. It built to a cacophony of deeply disturbing sound. The front door slammed, then slammed again.
Still blinking against the brightness, Rachel shaded her eyes with one hand. When she reached out to touch Sean’s arm with the other she felt his muscles flex beneath her fingers. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” He tried to maneuver her behind him. “Stay back till we find out.”
She resisted. “Don’t be silly. Hannah wouldn’t let anything bad happen to us here. Neither would Hank. He may be old but he’s strong as a bull.”
Peering up at the porch she counted five adults. Hannah and Hank were there, of course, arm in arm. The only other person Rachel recognized was—oh, no! It looked like Heatherington! Now the fat was in the fire for sure!
A middle-aged couple Rachel had never seen before broke away from the others and started down the porch steps toward the car. The smartly dressed woman left her portly mate lagging behind, stomped straight up to Sean and wagged a long finger in his face.
“How dare you! Do you know how late it is? We’ve all been worried sick. Field trip, my eye. I’ll see you’re fired. Both of you.”
Sean kept his voice low. “We’re very sorry you were inconvenienced, Mrs….” He tried Samantha’s last name. “Smith, is it?”
“You know very well it is,” she screeched. “No alibis. You tried to steal my niece and you’re not going to get away with it. Not if I have any say in the matter.”
Rachel stepped forward, still squinting and shading her eyes. “That’s not what happened at all. We just wanted to show her a good time before she left us.”
“Don’t give me that. Ms. Heatherington told these people we were coming all the way down here to pick her up, and you didn’t even have
the courtesy to have her here.” The woman muttered a curse. “Good thing you came back when you did. I was about to call the cops. Maybe I still will.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Sean said calmly. “Apparently there was some mix-up about the exact time of your arrival.” He gestured at his car. “As you can see, Samantha’s fine. She’s right here. Safe and sound.”
“Then, give her to me. I don’t intend to stand around all night and argue.”
Rachel opened the car door and leaned inside.
Standing close by, Sean heard her mumble, “You could have fooled me,” before her tone changed to gently rouse Samantha. “Come on, honey. Wake up. We’re home. And there are some new people here I want you to meet.”
Sean was proud of the way she put aside her own needs to do what was best for the child. If it was tearing him up to think of handing Samantha over to the rigid, unforgiving person they’d just encountered, what must poor Rachel be thinking? One quick look at her face told him exactly what she was going through, and it made his heart ache for her.
Clinging to her beloved teacher the child rubbed sleep out of her eyes while Rachel stroked her thin back and urged her more awake. She looked as if she was about to hand Samantha to her new guardian when the woman reached out, grabbed the little girl’s wrist and wrenched her away!
Rachel screamed, “No!”
Sean put his arm around her in consolation and restraint.
Hannah Brody had been hanging back, watching. Now, she bustled up and started to call the other woman every nasty name Rachel had ever heard—and a few she hadn’t—while Samantha wailed at their feet and the social worker dithered in the background.
The Smith woman paused only long enough to tell the child to shut up, then said, “Come on, Robert. Bring her,” and stormed off.
“Yes, Daphne.” With a shrug, the man held out his hand. Instead of taking it, Samantha clung to Rachel.
The little girl’s weeping had intensified almost to the point of hysteria, and Sean was worried about her mental state. He had begun considering intercession the moment he’d encountered Samantha’s new guardians. Now that Daphne Smith had demonstrated such a horrific lack of compassion and tact, he was beginning to think they might actually stand a chance of heading off the change of custody. It was worth a try. Staying with the Brodys indefinitely would be far better for Sam than going to live with the part of her extended family he’d just met.
Rachel was on her knees trying to soothe the weeping child when more shouting began. Hank and Robert were getting into it now. Younger and heavier, Robert threw a punch at Hank. He missed. Hank fell, anyway, when he staggered backward to escape the blow. Yelling, Hannah launched herself, fists flailing, into the midst of the melee.
Sean wasn’t far behind. He pulled Hannah out of the fracas, but she dove back in before he had a chance to rescue Hank.
Clearly, someone should telephone the police, Rachel decided—but who? Hank, Hannah, Sean and the Smiths were all part of the problem. And it didn’t look like Ms. Heatherington was in any shape to help, either. The usually staid social worker stood frozen in place, her mouth agape, staring at the near riot from the relative safety of the porch.
It was evidently up to Rachel to make the call if anyone was going to. What the whole group needed was a cooling-off period, and she knew she wasn’t big enough or tough enough to send them to separate corners the way she did her kindergarten students when they misbehaved.
Preparing to go inside to use the Brody’s phone, she straightened and reached for Samantha’s hand so she could keep her close. The child must have misunderstood. Instead of meekly taking her teacher’s offered hand, she jerked away and dashed down the dirt driveway.
Rachel was caught off guard. “Samantha! Wait!”
The little girl didn’t pay any heed. Already in a frenzy, she increased her speed. The last good glimpse Rachel got of her before the night swallowed her up was the bobbing of her blond curls and the dusky white of her tennis shoes.
“Sean!” Rachel hollered at the top of her lungs, then took off in pursuit without waiting to see if he’d heard.
The driveway was dark and winding. There were no streetlights along Squirrel Hill Road, either, so the farther Rachel got from the Brody house the more the countryside blended into a murky blur, lit only by a sliver of the moon.
“Samantha!” she shouted. “Wait! Please.”
Behind her she heard Sean’s voice echoing her calls. Just knowing he was following gave Rachel confidence. Her legs were already tired from a whole day of walking. The muscles throbbed, threatening to fail. She tripped. Faltered. Recovered.
“Oh, please, Lord,” she prayed aloud. “Help me!”
Arms held out in front of her, she groped along, hoping she wouldn’t accidentally bump into one of Hank’s barbed-wire fences and praying Samantha knew enough about the lay of the land to keep herself safe, even in the near dark.
By Rachel’s reckoning there was only the cement crossing over the wet-weather creek left to negotiate before she reached the road. The smack of her rubbersoled shoes hitting the hard concrete of the swale confirmed that conclusion.
She stopped there, fighting to hold her breath long enough to listen for Samantha’s footsteps up ahead. Instead, she heard the pounding of a runner’s stride somewhere behind. Sean was coming! Thank God!
A quick breath later she heard another sound. The way noise echoed in the narrow, wooded valley it was hard to tell what direction it was coming from, or even what it was. She listened carefully. The roar was growing more definable. It had to be a car or a pickup truck. And it sounded like it was headed their way on Squirrel Hill Road!
Panic chilled Rachel to the depths of her soul. Even the most levelheaded five-year-old was liable to forget safety rules in a moment of excitement. Samantha was unlikely to remember anything, let alone an admonition to stay out of the street.
Rachel sprinted for the road, praying all the way. The car’s motor was getting louder and louder.
She could see headlight beams now, brilliant and blinding. Between her position and that of the speeding car she caught a glimpse of a small, moving shadow.
It might be a deer, her subconscious insisted. And what if it wasn’t? With no thought for personal safety, Rachel ran out into the road, waving her arms wildly over her head and shouting, “Sam! Look out!”
Behind her, Sean gave a guttural roar when he saw her luminescent silhouette aglow in the glare of oncoming headlights.
The driver braked. Skidded. The car started to slide sideways, tires screeching.
Sean lunged for Rachel. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Airborne for what seemed like ages, he finally got his arms around her. He twisted to use his own body to cushion her fall and they landed in a heap by the side of the road. The vehicle came to rest mere feet away in the same shallow ditch, its lights blurred by tall grasses and brush.
Irrationally angry, Sean bellowed at her, “Are you crazy? What did you think you were doing?”
Rachel was wobbly when he helped her to her feet. “Sam,” she gasped. “Samantha. Did you see her?”
“No. Where?”
He scanned the darkness beyond the car. In the distance he could see small lights bobbing down the driveway from the Brody house. It looked as if several people were sensibly using flashlights to guide them.
“I don’t know where,” Rachel said. She sagged against him. “I thought I saw her just before…before the crash.”
Refusing to let go when he knew he’d come so close to losing her moments before, he said, “Okay. Show me what you think you saw. We’ll look together. Then I’ll come back and see about the driver.” He sneered in the direction of the car. “The guy’s probably feeling no pain. I can smell the booze from here.”
“Over that way.” Rachel pointed with a shaky hand.
Sean didn’t like the tremulousness of her voice. He’d never heard her sound so weak, so dispirited. “Can you make it
?”
“I’m fine,” she lied. “Hurry.”
“Looks like the cavalry’s almost here,” Sean told her, indicating the Brody driveway. “Let’s wait. We can borrow their flashlights instead of stumbling around in the dark.”
Rachel wasn’t willing to delay. She grabbed his hand and forged ahead. “No. I’m sure I saw something. I…” Her legs suddenly gave way.
Sean caught her before she fell. He didn’t have to ask what was wrong. He could see for himself.
They’d found Samantha.
No one argued with Rachel when she was chosen to accompany the unconscious child to the hospital. Her own bumps and bruises from the near miss with the out-of-control car were her ticket to ride in the same ambulance. She’d have suffered the injuries gladly to earn the opportunity to comfort the poor girl.
Unfortunately, Samantha remained unconscious. Patting her cool, limp, little hand, Rachel kept asking the paramedics, “Why doesn’t she come to?”
“We won’t know till we get some tests run,” one of them answered. “We’re taking good care of her. Why don’t you lie down until we get to the emergency room, ma’am?”
Rachel was adamant. “No. She needs me.”
“There’s nothing you can do for her right now. You’d better take care of yourself so you’ll be able to look after her when she wakes up.”
“I’m fine. Just cold,” Rachel said, shivering.
“That’s from shock.” The medic gently wrapped a gray blanket around her shoulders, guided her to the spare gurney and lifted her feet to swing her whole body around.
The appeal of a moment’s respite was so strong that she let him ease her down onto the pristine sheets and pillow. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I understand how you feel. I’ve dealt with lots of mothers and they all act the same way when their kids get hurt.”
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