She couldn’t do this. No. Gripping her mug harder and tamping down the urge to slosh its cooled contents in his face—or just kiss him—Merry stepped away and tried to remember how to breathe properly. “Don’t. Just…don’t. I don’t have time for this.”
She’d gotten genuine whiplash from a rollercoaster at Kennywood once. That was nothing compared to this. Getting stood up. Hopes dashed. And then a new hope and antsy expectation swelling in her chest at the prospect of becoming an aunt in a short matter of time.
“Merry. Merr-ry.” Ricky tugged on her arm and she spun around to face her siblings all bundled up and ready to go. “Does your car have gas in it? Mine’s in the shop and Mum’s got a flat today.”
Shoot. Gas. That had been the cause of the dinging on the second half of the drive over here. Her gas tank was on empty. She’d thought the noise was the beginning of a migraine from crying so much.
“We can get some down the street and then get down there.” If her car made it the one mile to the nearest station. Her siblings didn’t appear convinced, and Lydia’s thumbs flew over her phone. They had to hurry. But how?
“It’s getting bad out there. I can drive.” Her coat settled across her shoulders, and her shoes were set in front of her in a cloud of warmth and Old Spice that evaporated just as quickly. Sam. Of course he’d offer to drive them. Ever the Mr. Steady, except when it really counted. Ricky caught her eye and shrugged as if to say, what choice do we have? And it was true. They couldn’t miss their niece or nephew’s arrival. “You don’t have t—”
“Oh my gosh thank you. I’m still miffed at you, though.” And so Lydia shooed them all out the door into the blizzard. Merry ignored Sam’s proffered hand and slipped into the back seat of his truck cab alongside Lydia. No way she’d sit in the same spot where he first asked her out.
Still, it very well might be a God-thing Sam had shown up so inconveniently and unexpectedly with his four-wheel drive truck that could navigate the rolling, pot-hole marked roads of Pittsburgh to get to the hospital. Even if her heart did sting and spun at intervals as hard and fast as the streams of frozen raindrops and snowflakes outside. All of it melted when they stopped at a traffic light at the end of the Hot Metal Bridge, and Sam twisted around in his seat. “What can I say to make it up to you?”
She couldn’t even summon the strength to meet Sam’s gaze. “Nothing.” Because something was beginning to glimmer in the back of her mind, and she couldn’t shake the raw, piercing truth of it. The only thing she’d want Sam to say—to promise, really—to make it up to her, was that he’d never do such a thing again. That he’d never hurt her or let her down.
Except the truth of it was—even Sam Shepard wasn’t perfect. And it wasn’t fair of her to expect such a thing. From anyone. Maybe that had been her problem all this time. Merry rested her head against the window glass and bit back a groan. She had a feeling he’d try to never let her down again—which was practically perfection—and that was no way to live.
No way to love.
***
“Can we please talk about this, after everything?” Sam’s jaw ached from gritting his teeth both in anxiety for the hazardous road conditions once they had left the South Hills—and for the hurt he’d dealt Merry. The precious girl’s eyes said it all, though she tried to put on a tough shield with her silent treatment. She was in a world of hurt—and he’d caused it.
He had failed her. The one person—the most important person, now—he shouldn’t have. You’ll never be good enough. Of course, that voice in his head had to sound like his dad. It wasn’t the Holy Spirit. That wasn’t how God operated. It couldn’t be.
But after the day he’d had—nothing was sure and everything was royally messed up. And he needed to fix it.
Lydia’s head popped over the seat and she pointed out the windshield. “Turn there. Mum said we can hop right on the elevators inside the doors.” The teenager sat back in her seat, muttering something under her breath. Whatever it was, Sam knew he deserved it. It was a miracle Ricky hadn’t slammed the door in his face when he showed up to the Graingers’ house on the sliver of hope Merry would be there.
Easing up to the hospital entrance, he braked, and put on his hazard lights. “I’ll stay a while in case you need a ride home.” And he wouldn’t give into any arguments. Ricky huffed a sigh, then hopped out of the truck with a gruff, “Thanks” followed by Lydia sashaying at a good clip into the hospital.
“I’ll be up in a minute. Text me what floor, please.” And so Merry pulled the back door shut. Sam swiveled around to try and figure out what Merry was thinking, only to find the beauty pale and drawn. “Just go park. I…I can’t get out. Not yet. I need a m-minute.” She was shivering. Sam turned up the heat dial on his dash and followed signs for the parking garage. Maybe this was his chance. To apologize, reassure her that this was a one time mistake—and heal her heart.
Parking brake locked, lights off, key pocketed, and Sam leaped out of his truck to open Merry’s door before she could. Except she sat huddled against the seat, still shivering, and it sliced a new wound across his heart. Lord, help me heal her.
“You ready?” He’d wait until she was.
Merry’s bark of a laugh was short, and frighteningly bitter. “To talk to you? No. But I…I can’t go in. The last time I was at a hospital…I left with one less grandparent.”
That explained her hesitancy, and he kicked himself for the hundredth time, thinking she’d actually want to talk and work through things. Sam swung up into the backseat of his trunk and shut the door. He started to reach around Merry but she shied away, and he sat back, feeling appropriately put in his place. And so he waited. He’d wait forever.
Probably how Merry felt downtown earlier that day, waiting for him to show up.
Idiot. Sam folded his arms across his chest to ward off how his hands itched to hold Merry. “This time, though, you’re about to gain a new member of your family.” Lord, help me. I can’t let her down again.
A tear-filled smile lifted those soft lips a too quick second before Merry shuddered out a sigh and rolled her eyes heavenward. “It’s been five years, you know. And it…it still hurts. I miss him.” The parking garage lights made a crystalline tear sparkle in the corner of Merry’s eye, and Sam reached over and wiped it away. She leaned into his hand, and he eased closer until she reared back and covered her face with both hands. “I am an idiot.”
No. That was his title of the week. “Merry. I can explain. Please, let me make it up to you.” For the rest of their lives? How long could it take to earn her trust back so that she could rest safe and confident in the embrace he yearned to give her?
Long strands of auburn flew around as Merry shook her head. Sam grasped her shoulder and bent to get a better look at her. “Please believe me. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t care. I’ve been sick that I stood you up. There’s a reason for it. But I don’t ever, ever want to let you down again. I want to make it up to you. Whatever it takes.”
Merry leaned away from his touch, and his fingers cooled. Her mane hung across her face, and she gripped the handle of the opposite door. “I can’t do this.” A frigid burst of air smacked him across the face, the cab door slammed shut as quick as it had opened, and Merry was gone.
But he wouldn’t let her go that easily.
His feet clapped across the concrete jogging to get to Merry who was jogging towards the elevator. He couldn’t lose her. Not when they had everything to gain. If he could just make her see he’d never want to hurt her—or do so. Ever again. Make her see that he saw her hurt. And he could fix it.
“Merry. Grace.” Drawing up beside her in front of the elevator that could be heard slowly mounting up the floors, Sam paused to catch his breath. She shoved his shoulder with a weak fist before returning her bare hands to her coat pockets.
“I waited for you. For almost two hours. And not so much as a text?” Her voice rose in pitch and volume, reverberating off the hollow walls of the parki
ng garage to claw at his composure he’d been holding steadily.
“My dad came to my office.”
Merry put a hand on her hip, and if he weren’t so frazzled he’d think it adorable. “And? Did your phone die?” There was something more behind her eyes, and while her interrogation rankled—Sam knew he needed to come out with the whole, ugly truth.
“It didn’t. I haven’t seen my dad for almost seven years. After Mom…we’d never been close. He wasn’t there for me after she died. And I guess…” Sam scrubbed a hand over his hair and smacked his hand against the wall. “There’s a lot more to it. It’d take too long to tell you.” And he was not that person he had been. And he didn’t want to risk Merry knowing of his past—which would surely only add to her reasons not to…not to, what? Be with him? Like him?
Merry stomped her feet and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I’m in a bit of a rush, so…” The elevator doors slid open with a merry ding and Merry flew in but didn’t smack the button soon enough to prevent Sam from hopping in just as the doors began squeezing shut.
He leaned against the stainless steel walls, exhausted. “For some reason only God truly knows, my dad came to see me today. And it caught me way off guard. I am so, so sorry for standing you up. Believe me—I would’ve rather been with you.”
Merry glanced at her phone, before slipping it into her coat pocket. “Kara’s okay. The baby too. He or she isn’t here quite yet.” And then the confounding redhead slapped her palm to the red Emergency Stop button.
She flung her mane away from her face and finally looked him dead in the eye. The anger-muddied pain in those stunning eyes kicked him in the gut. “I was poised…okay, that’s a lie. I liked you. Against my better judgment. Because you want to know what my better judgment told me?” Her voice cracked in tune with his heart.
“What?” He dared step nearer, and she didn’t move away.
“To not dare hope for anything with you. Because if history held true—as it literally has today—I’d get my heart broken when God, life, whatever came along and swept the rug out from under me. Again.”
She wasn’t making sense. “Again?” Did she mean her grandfather? Her writing she used to do? The list of unknowns about the woman in front of him multiplied in his mind, but he still took a step closer until they were toe to toe, and beneath the fluorescent lighting, Sam watched Merry’s eyes turn electric blue with tears.
“Yes. Again. Because five years ago tomorrow, the guy I was so sure I’d marry eventually, broke up with me. On my birthday. A week before my grandfather died. And it took me this long to start to open up again and…” Merry pressed both palms to his chest and tried to push, but he captured her hands with his.
No…opening up was worth it. I’ll prove it to you. But the words wouldn’t come. Not with being so near he could tell she wasn’t a completely natural redhead, and that she wore some vanilla-citrus perfume. And was shaking.
Now guilt stole his breath. He’d caused this. God, help me fix this.
“Apparently I’m too much of a hot mess still. And I should have known not to. Especially with you.” The tears spilled from bluer than blue eyes when Merry broke away, and in short order, the elevator resumed its descent to the hospital entrance.
“I am so, so sorry that happened to you, but I promise…look at me.” Sam gripped Merry by her shoulders and steered her around to face him once more. “I promise to never let you down again. It is killing me that I hurt you so badly. Please believe me.”
The ding of the elevator seemed to snap Merry out of wanting to believe him, and a veil dropped over her eyes, a mirage over the pain he’d dealt her. “You can’t promise that, though, Sam.” Merry’s sad, resigned smile would haunt him. “You’re only human. And I…” Bells chimed, Merry yanked her phone out, and Sam felt the wind knocked out of him at how her tearstained face transformed into a beautiful, unbridled joy.
“The baby’s almost here. I have to go.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Maybe he’ll be a little drummer boy someday. Like his uncle Ricky.” Merry traced her nephew’s big hands from where he lay asleep in Kara’s arms and marveled at the precious, flannel-bundled new addition to their family. He had arrived a short hour after she had finally found her family—and had instantly captured their hearts.
“Lean in, Mer. Smile, girls.” Mum beamed from behind her smartphone, poised and ready to continue to document every minute of her first grandchild’s life.
Merry shared a long-suffering eye-roll with her glowing, exhausted sister, and, thanks to baby Will’s presence—managed a smile for the camera. For the third time that night, but it was easy, now. Her tears had turned into joy when she had beheld her sister holding her firstborn. A healthy, squalling little boy who’d arrived a few minutes after midnight. He was already coloring their lives with an uncharted joy. Merry rested a hand on her sister’s shoulder and shook her head, in awe at the perfection of this brand new member of their family. Who she now got to share her birthday with.
“You timed it well, Kara.” Merry grinned before pressing a kiss to her sister’s head.
Her sister yawned around a smile. “Hmm, I’m glad. Happy birthday, you guys. Two of my greatest gifts.” Kara’s eyes drifted shut, but her hands stayed firmly around her son, and Jackson tiptoed closer.
“Glad you could make it.” He gave her a quick hug, though his eyes were only for his wife and new son, and Merry took that as her cue. Her parents were packing up their things and getting ready to head home, but she lingered in the doorway, lax to return to reality. Facing the bevy of questions her family would be sure to dump on her in the next few days, reordering her heart to get back in sync with normal life…
Except how would that look?
I won’t think about that today. I’ll think about it tomorrow.
A yawn wracked through her frame as she slipped into her coat and fell into step with her family. The maternity ward’s pastel-tinted corridor seemed to stretch on for miles and she ached for a bed, and sleep. Her eyes were salty-itchy with traces of tears and old mascara and that headache still fought to take over her consciousness. But looking over all the photos her family had taken of their first introductions to William Raymond lightened her heart. And, thankfully, chased away all thoughts of the guy who she had desperately wanted to kiss just a few hours earlier.
Waiting in front of the ward’s elevator, Merry stared at the silver doors. She’d almost missed Will’s arrival. All because of a guy. You need to pull yourself together. All because of a guy who’d chased her down twice today alone. What type of guy did that?
The answer snuck up so stealthily that it literally tripped her into the elevator when she followed her family inside.
The right guy pursued like that. That’s what type of guy.
“Honey, Lydia filled me in about you and Sam. Are you okay?” Mum’s voice was soft, in her eyes nothing but sympathy—and a ton of questions, but, mercifully, she didn’t voice any.
Merry leaned into Dad’s wordless embrace. “I will be. I’m crashing at your guys’ place tonight, by the way.”
Mum nodded absentmindedly, now scrolling through her phone—probably to wake up everyone in her contact list with news of the baby.
Silent Night streamed softly through the speakers as they descended to the ground floor of the hospital, and she struggled to keep her eyes open and head focused on her new nephew. What to get him for Christmas, for starters.
She had so very much to be thankful for. And wasn’t that what the holidays were all about? Four of her greatest blessings were walking out of the hospital with her; the other three were upstairs making their first memories as a brand new family.
“Hey, Merry…” Dad halted and Merry glanced around for what had caused such an abrupt stop, and her heart began to plummet from the heights of joy she’d been in.
Sam sat with his head in his hands in front of the lobby’s Christmas tree and fireplace. Dad may be a man of few
words—but he had his moments of being oddly intuitive.
This was just one time Merry wished he wasn’t.
“How about I bring the car around, and till then you two can talk?” Dad phrased it as a question but nudged her towards Sam before she could protest. Merry tread softly towards him, but he didn’t look up. Her family waited by the automatic doors, and she waved them on.
This needed to be settled.
Lord, help me.
***
Orange and vanilla, holiday lights and the crackling of a fireplace swirled in Sam’s subconscious, and he struggled to open his eyes. A soft hand resting on his arm sent a jolt right through him, and he sat bolt upright in his seat—and found the girl he’d been dreaming about sitting right beside him.
He rubbed the drowsiness from his eyes until Merry’s face was clearer. “Hey. How’s your sister?”
“Doing well…” Merry pulled her hand away and shoved it in her pocket. “I have a nephew—William Raymond. He is the most perfect baby I’ve ever seen.”
Sam rubbed the back of his stiff neck, keeping his gaze on Merry in case she vanished. “Aw, congratulations. I’m really happy for you.”
Yet, how could such happiness and contentment—and pain and longing—be charged like electricity between them all at the same time? Merry sat there glowing with her new title of “aunt.” But the mascara tracks beneath her eyes belied her joy. And he had sat there for over two hours praying and wracking his brain on how to fix her wounded heart. Could they start fresh? He hoped and prayed. Because the alternative was one thing that he kept pushing aside whenever a still, small Voice brought it up.
He didn’t want to let her go.
“So, can we start over?” Bracing his palms against the tops of his legs, Sam took a good, long look at Merry. Instead of seeing a timid hope light those eyes of hers—he only saw more pain.
“I don’t think we should.”
“Because I accidentally stood you up one time?” Sam stood, pacing the rug in front of the fireplace. Merry slumped, shaking her head.
Wrapped in Red: A Three Rivers Romance Novella Page 8