by Teresa Hill
Her sister Ann confessed, "I was about to strangle Greg if he didn't get his mother to leave me alone about the fact that we hadn't had children yet. You think Daddy was bad? Greg's mother was relentless. I couldn't have a conversation with her without her asking me about it and making me feel like a bad wife because we hadn't reproduced yet."
"Oh?" Rachel said.
"Yes. She's never liked me, and I can accept that. But I don't think it's any more her business than Daddy's when Greg and I chose to have children, and don't get me wrong, I'm glad it's happening. But we just weren't ready before. We wanted a little time to ourselves. I think we deserve that."
"Of course," Rachel agreed.
"But his mother just kept pushing, and Greg kept telling me to just ignore her. I guess that's how he's dealt with her all these years, but I don't have to do that. She's not my mother. All I wanted was for him to stand up to her for me, and for the longest time, he wouldn't. We used to fight all the time about it."
"You did?" Rachel had no idea.
"Now she's driving me crazy about the baby. You'd think she was the only woman on earth to ever raise a child successfully. She thinks she knows everything, and I can already see it's going to be trouble. Greg doesn't always do what I think he should to get her to just butt out of our marriage, and as much as that irritates me, I still love him," Ann said.
"Of course." Rachel had never doubted that part.
"Sometimes it just gets so hard," her sister Gail added quite sincerely, then stood there waiting expectantly.
"Oh," Rachel said, beginning to see where the conversation was going. She had honestly thought for a moment it was going to turn into a gripe session about men, and she hadn't understood what brought that on.
"Alex wanted to take a job in Phoenix the year Mom got sick," Gail said finally, when it was clear Rachel wouldn't say anything more. "Can you imagine? I mean, it was a good opportunity for him, but we were doing fine here, and there was no way I could have left with Mom so sick. I couldn't believe he'd even suggest it. We had terrible fights about it, and one night I told him if he had to take that job, to just go ahead and go. The kids and I would stay right here, where we belonged."
"Really?" How had Rachel missed that?
"We all have problems," Gail said.
"I know," Rachel agreed, but really, she hadn't known any of this.
"I wish Mom were here. She'd know what to say," Gail said, sighing and looking around. "It's almost like old times, you know? Like when we were kids. Being here in this house at Christmas, with the family all around. Ever since Mom was gone, we've all been together here. It's the Christmas house and the Thanksgiving house and the Fourth of July. All of those things. I can't imagine us all not being here, and..."
Her sister broke off, almost in tears.
"I'm sorry. Here I am thinking of me and my holidays, when—"
"It is a holiday. Today. Let's think of that," Rachel suggested.
"But—"
"Let's," she said. "Or even better, how in the world did you keep all these problems from me and from Dad and everyone?" That part absolutely fascinated Rachel.
"That's not the point," Ann said.
"Maybe not for you," Rachel said, but right now everybody in the world was sticking their collective noses into her marriage.
"The point is that marriage is hard. You don't just give up," Gail said.
"I'm not giving up," Rachel insisted. "And right now, I'm going to find my husband."
She thought she should probably try to rescue him from the same treatment she was getting. She saw him being cornered as often as she was, and she could tell from the knowing look in his eyes that they were hearing the same things. Right now, her father had him at the foot of the stairs.
She made her way, as fast as she could, to Sam's side, just in time to hear her father say, "I think I said a lot of things over the years that you didn't deserve. That day at the hospital, especially."
"What?" she asked, surprising them both. "What did you say to him?"
"Rachel, don't," Sam said.
"No, I want to know. Daddy, what did you say to him?"
"Something along the lines of him not doing his job, not doing what he promised me he would—which was to take good care of you and that baby."
"Oh, Daddy," Rachel said, then looked to Sam, who stood there staring back at her father.
"I'm sorry," her father said.
"It wasn't his fault," Rachel said.
"No," her father said. "That was a father talking, a father who was scared he was going to lose his little girl and thinking he'd failed her somehow. I thought I hadn't done enough to keep you safe and happy, little girl. It's hard for a man to let his daughter grow up. To give her into the safekeeping of another man. I don't think any father thinks the man who wins his little girl's heart is good enough for her, but I should have gotten over that a long time ago. It's been obvious to anyone who wasn't blind that you love Sam and that Sam's loved you for a long time."
He turned to Sam and stuck out his hand.
"You've worked hard, made something of yourself, and I know you've been good to my little girl. After twelve years, I guess it's a little late to welcome you to the family. But I'm proud of you, Sam. Proud of what you've done here to this old house and to this town. And I don't think you're the only one who needs to hear that."
Rachel didn't know what he planned to do, but before she knew it, he'd dragged her and Sam a third of the way up the stairs, where they could see everyone in the front part of the house and everyone could see them.
Her father had a glass of spiced cider in his hand. He called for everyone to be quiet, then raised his glass and announced that he had a toast to make. He talked about how happy he was to be there, to have all his friends and family around him, how blessed he felt. And then he turned to Sam and Rachel.
"To my little girl, whom I love dearly." He raised his glass. "I'm so proud of her, for all that she does for our family and for this community. I can't imagine where any of us would be without her. Especially her husband and my new best friend Zach, and his two sisters."
He leaned down close and kissed Rachel's cheek. "This is what you were meant to do, little girl."
And it was. She realized that there wasn't anything she'd ever done in her life that gave her the kind of satisfaction that came from taking care of the people she loved. For so long, she'd honestly thought she was just drifting along, following where life led her, but in truth, she'd done exactly what she should have been doing. She'd been taking care of everyone. It was the only thing she could have done.
And these children... Zach was standing there grinning at the bottom of the stairs, and Emma was standing by the fireplace watching with an eagle eye as Rachel's fourteen-year-old niece held Grace. Her father was right. This was what she was meant to do. This felt better and more important than anything she'd ever done.
"I love you, Daddy," she said.
He winked at her as he addressed the crowd again. "And to my little girl's husband of twelve years. I was just thinking of how nice it is to be in this house on this day. The place where my wife and her sisters grew up, a place that holds so many memories. I don't think the house ever looked as good back then as it does now. Sam and Rachel made it glow.
"I was thinking about my own father-in-law and all the joy he's brought so many people with his work. He loved this town, too, and I realized that my son-in-law's brought the town back to us with all the work he's done to restore so many of our grand old buildings. He's made the place look as good as it did a hundred years ago or better, and now we have all these nice people from all over the place coming here to see it and enjoy it over the holidays.
"I know we had some hard times in this town and that there are lots of downtowns dying all over these days, but this town's alive and prospering. It glows with all the magic of Christmas, and I just wanted to take a moment to tell him how much that means to us. And that I'm proud of him and my little
girl."
There were cheers and raised glasses and well wishes all around. Rachel gave her father a big hug and a teary smile.
"You were right," he said. "I hadn't been fair to him, and if I've made your marriage any harder because of it, I'm sorry. I thought I owed him a very public apology."
"You did good," she said, looking over at her clearly stunned husband. And then she had an idea. They'd show them this marriage wasn't done, no matter what they'd heard. She wrapped her arms around him and said, "Kiss me, Sam. Right here. In front of them all."
And Sam did. He caught her close and gave her a long, leisurely kiss that had their entire audience cheering before they were done.
She eased back in his arms, remembering the look in his eyes, the husky roughness in his voice that morning in their bed when he'd told her he still loved her. What more could a woman want from Christmas than all that she had in this moment?
* * *
She was in the kitchen cleaning up later that afternoon when someone's cell phone rang. When she turned and saw the look on Miriam's face, Rachel knew right away who this call was about.
The children.
A moment later, Sam was at her side, his arm firmly around her waist. When Miriam finished the call, Rachel said, "You found their mother, didn't you?"
"Yes. About two hours from here by car. In a hospital near Indianapolis. She's been there unconscious since the day after she left them in that motel."
Rachel drew herself up a bit straighter. Sam was right beside her, hanging close, maybe waiting for her to fall apart. Well, she wasn't going to. She'd known this day was likely coming, and this was what the children wanted.
"Is she all right?" Rachel asked.
"I don't know. But she's conscious now, and she wants to see the children, if that's possible. Today."
Rachel nodded, her heart withering just a bit. Today.
"It's the woman they found in Shepherdsville, right?" Sam asked.
"What woman?" Rachel asked.
"Someone found a woman dumped on the side of the road two weeks ago. She'd been beaten half to death and was unconscious, with no ID. Nobody had any idea who she was."
"And you knew about this?"
"Yesterday," he said. "I found out yesterday. Not that she was their mother, just that she might be. I didn't see any reason to say anything until we knew for sure."
"Oh."
"What about their father?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," Miriam said.
"You're going to find out. He used to beat her up, and I'm betting he's the one who put her in the hospital."
"You've talked to the sheriff about all this?"
"Yesterday," Sam said. "He was working on identifying her, but I guess if she's awake, we don't have to worry about that. We do have to worry about him. If he's the one who did this to her, those kids aren't going anywhere near her until he's behind bars."
"Sam, it's not for you to say," Miriam argued.
"Forget it, Miriam. I promised them they'd be safe from him, and I'm going to keep that promise. The man's going to be behind bars. That's it."
Sam didn't give an inch. It was an hour and a half later before he heard from the sheriff. They had taken Annie Greene's statement from her hospital bed and used that evidence to arrest her husband, who was behind bars on a charge of attempted murder.
"Okay. It's getting late," Miriam said to the two of them, then checked her watch. It was almost five. The hospital in Indianapolis was almost two hours away. "Maybe we should wait until tomorrow."
"No. It's Christmas. We have to take them today," Rachel said. "It's all they really wanted for Christmas. To see their mother."
"Are you okay?" Sam asked.
"Yes," Rachel said, feeling more calm than she would have expected. "This is what they want, and I want them to be happy. Just like I want you to be happy. Whatever it takes."
Chapter 18
They told the children together. Zach jumped up and down, he was so happy. His whole face lit up, and he was practically running for the door, leaving Rachel to chase him.
Emma looked up at Sam with a mixture of hope and love and fear on her face that left him practically paralyzed, finally whispering, "You found her?"
Sam nodded.
She flew into his arms and held on tight, her whole body shaking. "Oh, Sam. Thank you."
"You're welcome, Em." He waited until she'd calmed down a bit, wishing he didn't have to tell her the rest, wishing he could really be her hero, the one who made everything all better for her. "There's something else."
"What?"
"She's in the hospital."
Emma's expression froze. "Is she okay?"
Sam dodged that one. He didn't know the answer himself. "She's been unconscious. You know, when you're asleep and can't wake up?"
Emma nodded.
"She's been like that the whole time. That's why she didn't come back to get you. And now she's awake."
"Is she still going to be in trouble?"
"I don't know. All I know right now is that we found her, and she wants to see you. Rachel and Miriam and I will take you to her."
"And then she'll take us home?"
"I don't think she's well enough to come home yet. But you can stay with Rachel and me awhile longer. You don't have to worry about that part."
"Okay."
She was still trembling, still worried. He could tell. Finally, she looked up at him and said, "Was it my dad? Did he find her? Did he hurt her?"
Sam nodded. "But you don't have to worry about him, either. He's in jail, and even if he wasn't, he doesn't know where you are and nobody's going to tell him. You're safe here, Em."
"Okay," she said breathlessly.
"Come on," Sam said, his hand firmly on her shoulder. "Let's go see your mom."
It was a quiet, somber drive to the hospital. Rachel sat beside him, her hand clasped tightly in his for most of the journey. Zach and Grace dozed off on the way, and they had to wake them when they arrived. Miriam went into the room first, and came back looking pale and worried. Sam knew why. He'd seen Annie Greene the day before.
"They're going to turn down the lights. I think that might help a little to hide the bruises. But she looks awful," Miriam whispered.
Sam took Emma and Zach aside and told them, "Your mom looks bad."
"Bad?" Zach said. "She's been bad?"
"No. Not that. She just... She has some bruises on her face, and it's kind of puffy, too. She has some machines hooked up to her, some tubes and wires and things, but don't worry about those. They're all helping her."
"Tubes?" Zach said.
"She's sick, Zach," Emma explained.
"Yes, she's sick. You need to be careful about jumping on her. Even about hugging her. I know you want to, but you don't want to hurt her."
Zach looked perplexed. "She can't hug me?"
"I bet she can. You'll just have to be careful. Let her hug you, okay? Don't run in there and grab her. You might grab on to a part of her that's sore."
"Okay." Zach was ready. "Can we go now?"
Miriam took him by the hand and said, "Come on. I'll take you."
Emma waited, looking up at Sam, getting ready to cry.
"I know you want to see her," he said. "Everybody here is working to make her better, but I bet seeing you and Zach will do more to make her feel better than anything anyone else could do."
"I'm scared, Sam."
"I know." She started to cry. Sam dried her eyes as best he could. "She needs to see you. She needs to know you're okay."
"Okay."
"Rachel and I will be right here waiting for you."
Emma disappeared into the room. Sam felt sick to his stomach, wishing he could spare her this, hating the powerlessness he felt in this moment. There should be a way for a man to protect the people he loved, and he loved these kids. There should be a way he could take the hurt himself and spare them.
And then there was Rachel, standing by the wall ho
lding the baby, looking more angel like than ever as she slept with her face tucked sideways against Rachel's shoulder. Grace's cheeks were pink and full, her nose like a button, her lavish eyelashes lying against those silky cheeks, one hand clenched in a fist that was half in her mouth. She was sucking and smacking her lips against it in her sleep.
Sam smoothed down the flyaway baby hair and kissed the baby's forehead, then wrapped his arm around her and Rachel. Rachel was trembling, too, and she leaned her head on Sam's shoulder, and he could feel the misery coursing through her.
For a second, he thought of last night and this morning. Thought of how close they'd been, how hopeful he'd been. It was selfish, he knew, and he didn't wish any more misery on Annie Greene and certainly not upon her children. But he and Rachel had been so close, so close to having everything.
He pulled her closer, wishing he could stop her from hurting, too. Wishing he could give her strength and somehow make this bearable for her. But he didn't have any words, couldn't think of anything to do except hold her.
They were still standing there a moment later when the door to Annie Greene's room opened again. Zach and Emma came out in a rush, Zach looking scared, Emma almost as pale as her mother had been the day before. They came to him and Rachel. Sam picked up Zach, and he and Rachel pulled Emma into their embrace, the five of them locked there together in their shared misery.
"Mommy's really sick," Zach said.
"I know," Sam told him.
"Is she gonna get better?"
"I hope so, Zach."
Emma's head came up at that. She was studying Sam's face, looking for reassurance, and he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. I hope so was the best he could do with any degree of honesty at all.
Her lower lip started to tremble, and then her eyes and her mouth took on that pinched look a moment before she bent her head until it rested on Rachel's shoulder, and she started to weep. He would have done anything, he thought, anything at all to spare her this.
Miriam ended up taking the baby from Rachel and disappeared into Annie Greene's room once again. Sam took Zach down the hall to a vending machine and bought him a drink, because seeing Emma so upset was worrying Zach, too. It also bought Emma some time alone with Rachel. It was a while after that before they got everyone settled down in a small waiting room down the hall. Miriam came back with Grace and asked Emma to take her for a moment while she pulled Sam and Rachel into the hall and told them Annie Greene was asking to see them.
