If she was surprised by how much she enjoyed him, she assumed he felt much the same. They certainly hadn’t gotten off to a promising start. Even if nothing more developed than these few visits, she would always appreciate everything he’d done for her.
On Tuesday midafternoon, Nichole stopped by. Beth was pleased to see her friend and regretted that she was weak and unable to hide her discomfort. The doctor said she would probably be moved to the rehab center the following day. It looked like she would be at that facility two or three weeks and perhaps longer. Sunshine had offered to let her recuperate at her house, but that wouldn’t work. Beth didn’t want her aunt to play nursemaid to her, especially when she needed to be at her studio. Besides, Sunshine was often out of town, traveling to art shows all around the country. The last thing Sunshine needed was to be driving Beth back and forth to physical therapy every day.
“How’s Matthew?” Beth asked as soon as Nichole arrived.
“Much better. He slept most of the night, which was a relief. Leanne’s watching him now.”
Beth knew Leanne was Nichole’s former mother-in-law. The two were tight. A bit unusual but the relationship worked. Leanne considered Rocco and Nichole’s children her own grandchildren and treated them as such. She was married to a Ukrainian man who baked the most delicious bread Beth had ever tasted.
“Sam called to let me know you’d had a rough day,” Nichole said as she came around and set down a crossword puzzle book she’d brought with her. Her gaze fell on the single red rose. “That’s lovely.”
Beth felt a warm happiness gazing at the rose. “Sam brought it.”
Nichole’s head whipped around. “Sam Carney?”
“Yeah, when he stopped by Sunday afternoon.”
Nichole’s eyes widened. “Sam has been up to see you twice?”
“Yes.” Beth didn’t know why Nichole looked shocked. She didn’t think it was meant to be a secret. If he didn’t want her to mention his visits, then he should have said so earlier.
As though stunned, Nichole sank into the chair. “Wow, that’s great.”
Beth felt she needed to explain. “Now that Sam and I have had a chance to get to know each other a little, I find I like him. He’s good company. I don’t think he has any idea how funny he is.” She repeated part of their conversation that made her smile, especially his definition of “decent women.”
Nichole groaned and rolled her eyes. “He’s definitely one of a kind.”
“He said he’d be back.”
Nichole’s eyes widened. “Sam did?”
Beth felt she had to let her friend know the truth. “I…I asked him if he wouldn’t mind visiting again and he said he would.”
Nichole looked as if she wasn’t sure what to say.
Beth didn’t want to appear overly curious, but she did have a few questions she hoped Nichole could answer. “You mentioned he’s a mechanic.”
“One of the best, according to Rocco. And a good friend, too. Owen loves him.”
“With good reason, if that jar of dollars is anything to go by.”
Nichole relaxed against the back of the chair and smiled. “It’s more than that. I told you before that he’s super with the kids. Even Kaylene. It was Sam who took her out driving when she first got her learner’s permit. Rocco only drove with her once. I don’t know what happened, but Kaylene returned in tears and Rocco said he was through. Sam stepped up and showed the patience of a saint. Even with driver education classes, I don’t know if Kaylene would have gotten her driver’s license if it wasn’t for Sam.”
Further proof that there was more to the man than met the eye.
“Owen thinks of him as the best uncle ever. My two sisters live in Washington state and we don’t see them often, so the only men in his life are Rocco and his father. My ex-husband tries, but he has trouble understanding the needs of a six-year-old. It’s Rocco and Sam who taught Owen how to ride a bike and throw a softball. Sam has attended every one of his T-ball games along with Rocco.”
“You mentioned how good he is with Matthew.”
“He’s amazing with the baby. That’s the reason I wanted the two of you to meet. Like I said earlier, Sam’s a bit of a character and he seems to have trouble with meaningful relationships with women, but with a little patience I think he could be a real catch.”
After all he’d done to help her, Beth found she was willing to be open-minded about Sam, something she hadn’t been earlier. “What’s his problem with relationships. Did he have a bad experience that left him bitter?”
Nichole released a slow breath. “Before I put together the dinner, I asked Rocco about that very thing. He said as far as he knew Sam had only been involved in one serious relationship, and that was years ago. I’ll see if Rocco will give me a few more details. I know Sam’s not currently involved; if he is, he doesn’t talk about it and I’ve never met her.”
Beth couldn’t help wondering. “He told me he didn’t do relationships.”
“That’s the impression I get, too. But seeing how great he is with our family and how much the kids love him, I felt I had to try. My romantic heart believes he would make a wonderful husband and father.”
“I appreciate that you thought of me, but I don’t know if I’m up to taking on this grizzly bear of a man. Plus, there’s no indication he has any feelings for me. Well, other than pity.”
A smile blossomed in Nichole. “Au contraire. I’ve never known Sam to buy a woman flowers.”
“It’s a single flower,” Beth reminded her.
“A rose,” Nichole said, as if that was of major significance. “A red rose.”
“From the hospital gift shop. They probably only have red roses.”
“Still, Sam isn’t the kind of guy to buy a woman flowers. He did for you, though.”
Beth smiled, remembering how he quickly set it down on the table, as if holding it had burned his fingers. He’d felt awkward with it. At the time she hadn’t fully appreciated the gesture.
“Did Sam say when he was coming back?”
“No…but I assume it’s tonight, as I’m being transferred to the care facility sometime tomorrow.”
Nichole frowned.
“What?” Beth asked.
Lifting her arm, Nichole gently brushed Beth’s dark hair from her forehead.
It didn’t take Beth long to understand what her friend was too kind to put into words. “I look terrible, don’t I?”
Nichole smiled.
“My hair is a mess. I don’t have any makeup here.” She was definitely at her all-time worst. If there was anything to be grateful for it was the fact that she hadn’t seen herself in a mirror.
“I know just the thing.” Nichole’s eyes brightened as she spoke. Hurrying to her feet, she reached for her purse.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back.”
Before Beth could say another word, Nichole left, a woman on a mission.
—
Thirty minutes later she returned, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She set a plastic sack from a local chain drugstore down on the foot of the bed. As if unveiling a work of art, Nichole withdrew each item from the bag one at a time. “Dry shampoo.” She placed that on the tray in front of Beth. “A brush and comb,” followed by a curling iron.
“Nichole!” Beth couldn’t believe anyone would do this.
“I’m just getting started.” Next came a bevy of cosmetics. It appeared her shopping trip had yielded everything Beth would need and more to help her feel more like a woman again.
Pleased with herself, Nichole giggled like a teenager. “I swear Sam isn’t going to know what hit him when he stops by this evening.”
—
An hour later, Beth felt a hundred times better. Her hair was styled, and while these weren’t her normal choices when it came to makeup, Nichole surprised her with how well she did matching up colors to complement her skin tone.
“You’ll let me know what happens when Sam
sees you?”
“I will,” Beth promised. She’d been miserable and in awful pain the last two days. She hadn’t complained while Nichole fussed over her, but by the time her friend left, Beth was both exhausted and exhilarated. She rested for the remainder of the day, counting down the hours until she would see Sam again.
At five-thirty, she wondered if he’d come directly from work the way he had the day before. Wanting to look her best, she sat up in bed despite the discomfort.
At six-thirty she realized he’d probably gone home to shower and change clothes. Perhaps he felt he wanted to look his best for her, too. The thought pleased Beth, although it was probably silly to put any significance into the timing.
At seven-thirty she started to grow concerned.
At eight-thirty she realized he hadn’t said when he intended to return, only that he would. She was the one who’d made the assumption it would be that night.
By ten she was depressed, miserable, and fighting self-pity. Sunshine hadn’t been able to stop by, as she’d left town for a gallery event. She hadn’t wanted to, but Beth had insisted her aunt go. Beth’s hip ached, and the incision where her spleen had been removed was a constant source of discomfort, not to mention the terrible ache in her ribs.
Struggling to hold back tears, Beth was furious with herself for putting stock in a few careless words Sam had said on his way out the door. Embarrassed that she’d asked him to visit, she resisted covering her face with her hands. Her cheeks burned with regret.
Beth had to accept that her move to Portland had turned into a disaster. Her mother was right. She was naïve and gullible and needed the protection of her family. All Beth wanted was to make her own way, her own decisions, and, most important of all, her own choices when it came to her life. Now it looked like she would be out of work for months, going through rehab. For the next several weeks she would be dependent on the charity of others. Her first taste of freedom and she’d royally screwed up. The temptation to pull the sheet over her head and sink into a pit of despair was almost irresistible.
Sleep was impossible. She sniffled and would have kicked some sense into herself if it wasn’t so painful to move her legs…to move at all. Shooting pain from her cracked ribs stabbed her every time she shifted in bed, and her hip throbbed with a constant dull ache despite the pain medication. She was a physical and emotional mess.
It must have been close to midnight and she was wallowing in depression, listening to music on her phone in an effort to ward off sinking any deeper into self-pity. When the door to her room opened, Beth assumed it was the nurse and, not wanting to talk, she turned her music off and kept her eyes closed.
“Beth?”
Her eyes shot open. “Sam?” He’d come at midnight! The man was nuts. She pulled the earbuds free and blinked at him in astonishment.
“Did I wake you?” he whispered. He stood just inside the doorway with his guitar in hand.
For a long moment all she could do was stare at him, convinced she was hallucinating. “What are you doing here this time of night?” she whispered back when she was able to talk.
He walked over to her side and set his guitar on the end of her bed. “You said the nights were the worst and you had a hard time sleeping.”
She blinked up at him in the dim light.
“I thought I’d sing you to sleep.”
Beth really did feel like weeping then. “Oh Sam,” she whispered, nearly choking on her words. “I thought…I thought…” She couldn’t make herself say it.
“What did you think?” he asked, his gaze warm and gentle.
“That you weren’t coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” he returned. He seemed surprised that she’d doubted him. “I told you I’d be back.”
“But it’s late and you have to work in the morning and…”
“Babe, trust me, I’ve been up far later than this and still managed to work the next day. Even hungover, I’m a good mechanic.”
She didn’t question his work skills. From everything she’d heard from Nichole and Rocco, Sam knew his way around an engine.
He paused and his gaze narrowed as he studied her. “You look different.”
So he’d noticed her hair and makeup.
“I like it.”
Beth couldn’t have quelled her smile had she tried.
Sam pulled out a chair, sat down, and balanced his calf across his knee, then dug a pic out of his jacket pocket. “What were you listening to?” he asked, noticing her phone and the earbuds.
“ ‘Bravery’ by G. P. Telemann. Ever heard of him?”
“Can’t say that I have.” He strummed a few bars and then glanced up at her.
“Are you taking requests?” she asked.
“Don’t know Mozart or Telemann, but I do a mean Rascal Flatts.”
Beth’s smile was so big that her mouth hurt.
“I’ll play for you a bit.” He strummed a chord or two and then picked up the rhythm. The music was wonderful and it surrounded her, filling her up. Her playlist had helped. Sam helped a lot more.
“You sleepy yet?” he asked.
Not in the least; not with Sam sitting next to her bed, guitar in hand. “Nope.”
“Settle back and close your eyes,” he suggested.
Relaxing as best she could, Beth leaned back, wincing at the pain in her ribs. “Know any cradle songs?” she asked.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so,” she teased. “Johannes Brahms.”
“I should have guessed.” He grinned at her. “I can do a little Garth Brooks, but that’s about as close to a lullaby as you’re gonna get out of me.” Sam chose a song she didn’t recognize and sang softly. His voice was deep and melodic; Beth was mesmerized. An hour earlier she’d been ready to pack her bags and return to Chicago with her tail between her legs and admit defeat. Now she was riding high, overwhelmed by the man sitting by her side. She’d mentioned ever so briefly that she hadn’t been able to sleep well, and now here he was, playing and singing to her. No one had ever done anything like this for her before. No one.
He sang her two songs, then paused, his hands poised above the guitar strings. “Are you sleepy yet?”
She wasn’t about to waste a moment of his visit by sleeping—not if she could help it. “Keep singing—that will put me to sleep.”
“It’d help if you closed your eyes.”
“Not happening.” Then, because she had to know, she asked, “Do you play in a band?”
He grinned. “Nah, I’m not that good.”
“You underestimate yourself, Sam. I’m a music teacher. I know good when I hear it.”
“Whatever,” he said, continuing with another song, clearly unwilling to believe her. When he finished he looked up. “If you aren’t sleepy, are you in pain?”
She had to stop and think about it, and surprisingly, she wasn’t. “Not at the moment. An hour ago I was miserable, fighting off tears.”
His mouth tightened. “How long before you can have another pain pill?”
“My last pill was at ten.”
“You mean to say you were close to tears even after the pain meds? They need to up the dosage.”
“It wasn’t physical pain,” she clarified. “I was depressed and overwhelmed with everything that’s happened. I don’t want to leave Portland and move back to Chicago, but I may have to.”
“I don’t see why. You have friends to help you. And what about your aunt? Rainbow, wasn’t it?”
“Sunshine.”
“Right. I’m sure she doesn’t want you to move away.”
“Probably not, but I don’t want to be a burden and that’s what I see myself becoming.”
“Not to Nichole and not to me.”
“Oh Sam.” Her throat thickened and she was at a loss about what to say. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I think you might have saved my life.” At the time of the accident, she was convinced she was going to die. He’d been there, maint
aining eye contact, grounding her, reassuring her. His presence had meant everything in those agonizing moments before the Aid Car had arrived.
Again he brushed off her compliment. “Come on, Beth, don’t give up so soon. I came here to help.”
She felt tears of gratitude fill her eyes and quickly blinked them away.
“I’ll be back,” he promised. “If you want, I’ll stop by tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”
Her disappointment was almost impossible to hide. “I won’t be here. I’m being transferred to the rehab facility.”
“Where?”
She gave him the name but didn’t know the address. Setting aside his guitar, he reached for his phone and found it. “I’ll come visit you there. Deal?”
“Deal.” It was hard not to show how pleased she was.
“Now close your eyes. If this doesn’t put you to sleep, then I’ve made a wasted trip.”
To satisfy him, Beth lay back and obeyed.
“Good girl,” Sam whispered and continued to play.
Beth thought it would be impossible to sleep, but Sam’s voice softened and before long she felt her body relax as she started to drift off. She fought sleep, but it did little good. The pain meds and the fact that her body needed rest in order to heal eventually lulled her into dreamland.
When Beth was half asleep, Sam gradually stopped playing and singing. If he didn’t need to work in a few hours she might have pulled herself out of the near sleeping state. She didn’t want him to go, but it would be selfish to hold him up any longer.
When he scooted the chair back, it made a light scraping sound. She’d waited all day for him and had to admit he’d been worth the wait.
Then something happened. Something even more unexpected than his midnight visit.
Sam leaned down and brushed the hair from her forehead and kissed her there. His mouth was soft and warm against her skin.
Oh yes, he’d been well worth the wait.
CHAPTER 8
Sam
Sam was busy looking at the electrical system on a 2011 Cadillac when he saw Rocco pull into the garage towing a vehicle. It wasn’t unusual for his friend to deliver a car to the dealership, but it wasn’t all that common, either.
If Not for You Page 7
