“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 rubber-soled 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 bra
ked. 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.”
Bone-weary and beyond responding, Rachel closed her eyes and turned her face to the wall to hide her silent tears.
Chapter Sixteen
Sean had lingered at the accident scene just long enough to make sure Rachel and Samantha were safely aboard the ambulance, then headed for his car.
What he wanted more than anything was to be reunited with Rachel. To comfort her as best he could. If things didn’t turn out okay for little Sam he didn’t know what either of them would do. He’d been so angry when that drunk driver was pulled out of the wrecked car and arrested he’d wanted to strangle the guy with his bare hands. It had taken several police officers—plus Hank Brody—to keep him from trying.
Right now, the ambulance bearing Sean’s loved ones was headed for an emergency facility near Salem. He’d been told that if more specialized care was needed once initial assessments were made, one or both patients would be flown by helicopter to Little Rock. He was determined to get to them before that. He had to. Nothing was more important.
His hands clamped the car’s steering wheel, every muscle tense, as he raced on through the night. How totally helpless he felt! This was a situation where a strong belief in God, like Rachel had, would sure come in handy.
If there is a God, he countered.
But suppose there was? What would he say to Him?
Sean had no idea, nor did he think the Almighty would be inclined to listen to the prayers of a cynical guy like him. Why should He?
Maybe for Rachel’s sake, Sean answered. For Rachel’s sake he’d have to try.
Keeping his eyes on the road ahead he first drew a deep breath. “Hey, God? You up there?” he began. “It’s me. No, forget that. I’m not asking for myself, I’m asking for Rachel. You know Rachel. She’s one of Yours. She’s probably too traumatized to ask for help herself right now so I’m asking in her place. And for Samantha, too. Okay?”
Sean felt silly talking to an invisible being. Next thing he knew he’d probably be seeing guardian angels the same way Samantha said she did.
Angels? A vivid recollection of the accident leapt into Sean’s consciousness. He’d never forget the sight of Rachel bravely trying to flag down that oncoming car. Reflected light had played tricks with her appearance, making her waving arms look like wings in motion. That was how he’d known where she was. It was that glowing image he’d jumped for when he’d come running out of the Brody’s driveway.
His heart started to pound erratically. That was exactly what had happened. No question about it. He was positive. So how had he and Rachel landed at least three car lengths up the road from the end of the drive, instead of beneath the wrecked car? If there was a logical, scientific explanation, he sure didn’t know what it might be. Unless…
The urge to dismiss the notion of divine intervention was strong. Stronger still was his assurance that he’d been an unwitting part of something amazing.
His hands trembled on the steering wheel. His heart felt lodged in his throat. “God?” he whispered. “Jesus? Are You really out there?”
Though no audible answer came, Sean was certain there had been one. He was finding it hard to see the roadway through eyes misted by tears of intense gratitude. Cautiously he slowed his frenetic driving pace, while his heart threatened to pound its way out of his chest.
As the beginnings of faith touched him he sensed a subtle change in his outlook, a kind of peace he’d never felt before. It flowed over and through him like the passing of a warm wind or the rising of a blush to one’s cheeks.
“Okay,” he said, nodding resolutely. “You win, God. If You want me, You’ve got me, although what You’d want with the likes of me, I sure can’t imagine. Just keep taking care of the people I love, will You? Please? That’s all I care about.”
Sean had barely finished speaking when he realized he’d arrived at the hospital. He cut the wheel hard to the right and drove straight to the emergency entrance. As he climbed out of his car it occurred to him that he’d just turned more than one hard corner to get to where he found himself right now.
Sean barged past the receptionist without asking anyone’s permission and straight-armed the swinging door. The treatment room was crowded. He spotted Rachel pacing in front of a closed curtain. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her hair was a mess and her cheeks were pale and dirt-smeared, but she still looked wonderful to him.
He hurried across the room. “Rachel!”
She didn’t hesitate to step into his embrace. “Oh, Sean.”
For a long moment he just held her, breathing in her familiar scent and giving silent thanks that she was okay. Finally he loosed his grip
and looked at the curtain.
“Is Sam in there?”
“Yes.”
“How is she?”
“I don’t know. They won’t let me see her. The doctors are with her right now. I’ve been trying to listen to what they’re saying but it’s too noisy in this big room.”
“At least they got to her right away. Have they checked you out yet?”
“No. I’ll be fine as soon as I know Samantha’s going to be all right. I’ve been going crazy, waiting and worrying.”
“I’m here now. We’ll wait together.”
He turned, keeping one arm protectively around her shoulders. “Come on. Let’s sit down. You look awful.”
“Oh, thanks a heap.”
Sean gazed down at her tenderly. “That’s my girl. When you snap at me like that, I know you’re okay.”
“I didn’t snap at you for no reason,” Rachel argued. “You said I looked awful.”
“You’ve never looked better to me.” There was a definite catch in his voice.
“Really?”
“Really.” Once again realizing fully how close he’d come to watching her die, he couldn’t convince himself to stop touching her, holding her close, so he sat down first and urged her onto his lap.
Rachel willingly settled there, wrapped in her warm blanket and the comforting arms of the man she loved. Tomorrow there would be plenty of time to explain why they ought to stop seeing each other. Right now, all she wanted was to retreat from reality by cuddling up to Sean.
“I wish…” he began.
She raised her face to him. “What do you wish?”
“Nothing. You rest. Now’s not the time to talk about it.”
“Hmm. I wonder. After what happened tonight it seems to me that waiting too long to do anything can be a mistake.”
“Maybe you’re right this time.”
“Maybe?” One eyebrow arched. “And what do you mean, this time?”
Rachel had intended her remarks to distract him and lift his spirits. She might be showing signs of stress, as he’d said, but so was he. If she looked half as world-weary as he did, it was no wonder he’d commented on it. To her relief, he smiled.
Blessings of the Heart and Samantha's Gift Page 32